The Mists of Erantia (Realm of Arkon Book 7)

by G. Akella

"...and I'm confident that the Mistress of Death hasn't left the realm... You worry too much, my lady..."

  "Celphata is alive, but she did lose the main battle," picking a smoldering branch out of the fire, I lit up, and took a seat on a log across. "The goddess' stronghold is destroyed, but she was able to get away."

  "Kaher Taoll is destroyed?" Vaessa asked in a deflated voice, looking up from the flames.

  "I didn't see any road signs or anything, but Vill did make that claim... If you're talking about a fortress on top of a plateau in a valley surrounded by mountains, then—"

  "You spoke to Vill?!"

  "Well, more like he spoke to me," I shrugged, tossed the branch back in the fire, and briefly relayed my vision.

  When I finished speaking, a silence set it over the campfire, with only the branches crackling dryly in the flames. Finally, Vaessa raised her suspiciously glistening eyes, and whispered:

  "My father was there..."

  "Commander," a sentry materialized in the firelight. "There's a demon... He says he's here to see the prince."

  "Thanks," Kan nodded.

  I got up, and nodded a greeting to the tifling that stepped out of the shadows.

  "Good evening, master! We were just talking about you..."

  Black mantle draped around broad shoulders, short hair peppered with gray, receding hairline over a high forehead, hard lip line over a square chin... I recognized him at once. And really, it's not so hard to recognize someone who once tried to kill you...

  Vaessa stood up, clearly hesitant, and whispered in a voice hoarse with tension.

  "Father?!"

  "Prince, earl," with two nods in our direction, the tifling turned his gaze slowly back to Vaessa, and spoke quietly.

  "You have grown, daughter..."

  For the briefest of moments, the boundless love in his eyes was mixed with an equal measure of sadness, but then the Master of Death was back to his usual composed self as he took a seat on a log.

  "May I?"

  Was I happy to see the companion of the goddess of death here? Happy wouldn't begin to describe it. If he were here, it meant there was still a chance. A chance to waste Vill and return Celphata to her rightful post. And if so, I was ready to accept any terms, any proposition to make that happen. And I expected no less of the necromancer's daughter after she recovered from her statue-like wonderment. Even the dragons behind her appeared to be smiling—or was it the shadows from the firelight playing tricks...

  "Mistress sent me," the necromancer said, settling on the log. "We're almost out of time, so I will be brief. I'm sorry, daughter, but save your questions for later." Glancing briefly at his still-stupefied daughter, he gave a barely discernible shake of the head. "A war rages on the in Gray Frontier. Vill is on a rampage. Uroh and Laherton have been vanquished, Kin Marad and Uhn Attar razed to the ground. Kaher Taoll has fallen, Velena is gravely wounded, and Mistress has taken refuse in her phylactery. The goddess' strength is exhausted, and her astral body badly damaged..."

  "The Great Guardians are dead?" Vaessa gasped, having finally awoken from her stupor. "But how is that possible? And how did you even find us?"

  "Your ring..." Diarten nodded at his daughter's hand. "You're going to have to block it. The goddess' bastion has fallen, and Roth's talisman has been captured. I don't want the Twice Cursed tracking us."

  "But the Guardians were always considered invincible!" covering the signet ring with her hand, Vaessa looked up at her father. "How could this have happened?!"

  "The Twice Cursed summoned morts from the Dark Ocean..." the necromancer lowered his eyes with a sigh. "And he was able to bend them to his will."

  "Morts?!" Vaessa glanced at me for a moment, then looked back at her father. "The mythical beasts from an alien realm? But they are a fairy tale! You told me so yourself!"

  Well, well... I'd wager a bet that I'd already seen these 'morts' in my vision, even if those monstrosities didn't seem like residents of any ocean I knew, dark or not. Also, did I hear her right? Were there actual fairy tales in this world? Curious...

  "How was I to know?" with another heavy sigh, the necromancer shifted his gaze to me. "Mistress was able to destroyed one of the summoned beasts, but that sapped all of her strength. Morts are fallen gods who haven't found a place for themselves in the endless sequence of worlds. The darkness of the Underside has warped them, making them hostile to any sentient being... Vill is at the apex of his power, but you, Dark One... Four times now you have been able to hurt him. Nerghall and Rgharg have both passed into the Void, you've prevented the Cursed One from entering Demon Grounds, and destroyed his puppet and his army in your princedom."

  "Erisjat was largely your Mistress' doing," I shrugged. "And Vill's companions was my warriors' merit. But you didn't come here just to warn us, did you, dar? Do you have something for us?"

  "I am proud of my daughter," Diarten smiled, turning to the demoness. "You have excelled where even I have failed. Ahn Kulad... You have found it at last..."

  "The cemetery is still within Mistress' domain. The Lord of Darkness may have destroyed the university, but—"

  "Helstaad is the Goddess of Death's main source of power in Karn," the necromancer didn't let her finish. "If we secure it, we'll give Celphata the chance to recover and take back Kaher Taoll. And for that we need Hel. You have broken Kiyaret out from under the Lord of Darkness' control, and we now know that Hel hasn't departed this realm. She's asleep, much like Nerghall had been asleep for three centuries. The Cursed One hadn't finished her off... And it would appear that he still hasn't taken his sights off the ancient cemetery."

  Taking a deep pull, I exhaled the smoke, glanced at Kan, still as a statue, then looked back at Diarten.

  "You want us to find Hel?"

  "Don't you feel it yourself, prince? The end to this war draws near." Diarten cocked his head slightly, peering into my eyes. "Events are unfolding at an increasingly rapid pace, and this prophecy... Too much of it has to do with your struggle with Vill. Mistress is certain that only you can locate her companion. Help my Mistress, Dark One, and she will come to your aid once more. This is her war now, too! The power-hungry dark god had summoned morts in what is a grave violation of the laws of our realm, giving us all the justification we need to retaliate..."

  If he's a terrible dark god, who is Celphata, exactly? I chuckled to myself. Then again, in this world, dark didn't necessarily mean evil. In fact, nobody here was evil, not in the classic sense of the world. Everyone had their own interests. Practicality up the wazoo...

  I contemplated the smoking pipe in my hand for a few moments before raising my eyes at the necromancer.

  "Of course, I will help the goddess. But where should I look for her?"

  "Alas, nobody knows this aside from the Cursed One and his minions. But take this," rising from his log, Diarten proffered what appeared to be a small silver bell.

  You've accessed the quest: Companion of the Goddess of Death.

  Quest type: epic.

  Use Celphata's Call to awaken Hel from her centuries-old slumber.

  Reward: experience, unknown.

  "This artifact can awaken her," the necromancer explained. "All you need is to ring it."

  A simple wooden handle with runes decorating the rim, the quest item had the unambiguous name of Celphata's Call. Bells like these were a dime a dozen in any Russian elementary school, traditionally used to signal both the beginning and the end of the school year.

  Rising from my seat, I handed the bell to Vaessa.

  "I think that your daughter is likely to sense Hel's presence long before me, master."

  "That is your call to make, prince. Mistress simply tasked me with giving..." Diarten stopped short, jumping to his feet, and proceeded to stare out at the hills.

  "They're here! Morts!" He turned to me sharply, pointing at the elevation illuminated by the moonlight. "Get your people out of here, prince! Quickly!"

  "Alarm, Kan!" I nodded to the knight-commander
as he sprung up off his log. "Get everyone up!"

  Great, just great. Betrayed by Celphata's own ring! And the Twice Cursed bastard's words were now clear—he had already known how to find us...

  "But I've already blocked it!" Vaessa protested.

  "It takes up to ten hours for Roth's talisman to lose the link to its bound object," the necromancer explained, peering into the darkness. "You must retreat, prince. Regular weapons won't even scratch them, but they'll be gone before dawn—sunlight is fatal for creatures of the Underside."

  The camp was abuzz. Stirred awake, the troops were quickly packing up their belongings. And if the foxes and Saverus' mages acted as if nothing extraordinary was happening, Max's guys just stood there, looking around with blank expressions on their faces. Hart! Refusing battle was the last thing I wanted, but I had no reason to doubt the Master of Death's words. We wouldn't have a chance in hell against one god, let alone two.

  "What are your orders, prince?" Kan's grim face shone with resolve—eyes narrowed, jaw firmly set. Were I to order an attack, the knight-commander wouldn't hesitate to charge into battle... But that was also precisely why I wasn't going to do it.

  "We retreat."

  I detested myself for even uttering the word "retreat," but losing the people who had trusted their lives to me in a senseless, hopeless fight would be not only foolish, but vile. My pride would have to survive.

  "Scouts! Retreat portals! Ten yards distance!"

  "What the hell is happening?!" Donut inquired loudly, gesturing broadly at all the commotion. Masyanya's and Myrrha's faces expressed surprise, Teetotaler's was tinged with worry, and only Bonbon was looking around with idle curiosity, and chewing on something all the while.

  The next moment, an earthquake shook the valley to its foundation. The peak of a distant hill exploded with a hollow thud, followed by a crash as an ink-black fountain shot up from underground.

  "Oh, snap!" Bonbon whistled in awe. "Are we entertaining guests?"

  "Portals aren't working," Kan declared way too calmly, watching the darkness billowing over the hill. "The mages report that their spells are being blocked by an unknown force..."

  "Now!" Diarten shouted as he threw up one hand. The next moment, two things happened simultaneously.

  The darkness above the hill condensed, taking the shape of two enormous monsters, and a ripple ran over the necromancer's figure. Hart! The morts didn't look so huge in my vision! But now, at a distance of a couple of hundred yards, it was clear that they were three times the size of Nerghall. And both were level 710! Their hit points were hidden, but maybe that was a good thing, easier on our sanity...

  "My gosh!" Myrrha exclaimed in the silence that fell over the camp, bringing her hands to her mouth.

  "Let's pretend nobody's home?" Bonbon proposed, looking at me askance. "I've gotten pretty good at it after hiding from collection agencies for a year and a half..."

  The grass under our feet turned to dust, a stench of rot and decay permeating the air. Diarten, having grown to a height of fifteen feet, clutched an ornate staff in one hand, its tip shaped like a serpent's skull. His mantle was gone, replaced by a ragged robe, and his face became a mask of true death.

  "Go..." the word rustled in my head as Celphata's companion, a level 550 necromancer, took a step forward, leaning heavily on his staff, toward the monstrosities rushing our way.

  "Father!" Vaessa rushed after the necromancer, but was intercepted midway by Kan.

  "Portals up! Quickly!" the foxes began filing into the portal windows—quickly while preserving perfect order.

  "Look alive!" I yelled at the stragglers, clutching the reins of my razorback.

  The necromancer raised his monstrous staff, sending a tsunami of rot toward the morts. The ground under the targets' feet turned to slush, ensnaring the beasts at once, in response to which both of the Underside's gods opened their crocodile jaws and let out a blood-curdling howl. The awful sound filled the head, drowning out my own thoughts, tugging at the soul like a tire iron grating on glass, reverberating in the spinal cord. I felt all my joints lock up with a painful spasm. A few feet from the nearest portal, Myrrha staggered, her knees buckling. Bonbon and Teetotaler caught her before she fell, their own HP bars cut down to nearly half. Struggling to keep their balance, the three of them dove into the arch of the portal floating over the earth.

  "Heals! Quickly..."

  Even with the foxes' max resistance to mental magic, the ticking spell had taken off at least a quarter of everyone's HP. Thankfully, the last of them were now jumping into the portals...

  "Prince!" I turned around to face the knight-commander's pained expression—Kan was clutching tightly a trembling necromancer's daughter. The dragons and Gloom were all still behind, Hart take them!

  "Into the portal! Force her, if need be! The dragons will follow! Off you go, Gloom!" I shoved the razorback toward the blue window, repeating the order mentally for good measure.

  The first monster's tentacles twitched, loosing pitch-black drops that blew up in size and took the shape of ten-foot-long spears in a matter of seconds. The mort heaved forward, flailing its ghastly limbs... Diarten was faster by a fraction of a second, putting up his staff just in time for a wall of translucent fog to block the enemy spell's path. The impact caused a deafening crash—the fog didn't stop the spears, but merely changed their trajectory. Nearly all of them ended up striking the ground of the now-abandoned camp, extinguishing two portals at once. One spear smashed into the ground less than ten feet away from me; another struck the necromancer in the shoulder. The Master of Death staggered, but managed to keep his footing.

  He turned to me, ripped the projectile from his shoulder with visible effort, and for a moment our eyes met.

  "Go, Dark One! Find Hel, and... keep my daughter safe..." he wheezed, his eye-sockets flashing with a blue blaze. Then he spun back around, and shifted his staff, pointing the tip at the monster just as it escaped its sticky snare.

  "I will. Goodbye, master of death..." I whispered, clenching my jaw to keep the tempest raging within me from bursting out. With one eye on the frothing blob that was beginning to spread from the point where the spear had struck the ashy ground, I stepped into the rippling window of the portal...

  The necromancer's spell struck the nearest mort in the side. The monster stumbled, three of its tentacles turning gray and limp, but the dull rot that had begun to spread over its body was quickly coated by darkness. The next moment, both monstrosities gunned forward at a clip too incredible for their bulk, mowing down trees and structures as they closed in on the Master of Death...

  ***

  "My lady... Your father, he—"

  "What about my father?! Are you going to say that he sacrificed himself for the sake of others again?!" the demoness uttered in a lifeless voice, without turning her head.

  "He acted like a true warrior," Kan said, watching the road. "Any one of us would have done the same in his stead."

  "He said he was proud of his daughter..." the bitter notes in her tone betrayed an old child's grievance. "Hadn't he spent enough time in that Hard-forsaken cave? He'd sacrificed enough! And now... now he's gone again..." Vaessa drew a shuddering sigh and turned away, stopping her gaze at the birds circling overhead. Sensing their mistress' mood, the dragons kept their noses low to the ground while moving to her left, only sporadically looking up and around.

  The sky sprawled above us like a giant dome. The sun had passed its zenith, bringing sweltering afternoon heat. We were moving through the same endless silvery ocean of steppe feather-grass, interspersed with isles of umbrageous trees that grew more frequent in the past several hours. And just a minute ago, a narrow strip of the distant forest appeared on the horizon northwest of here.

  After leaping back a good five miles via portals, our squad mounted up and set out westward, away from the beasts that had been sent for my head. When the sun appeared over the horizon, signifying that the danger was finally behind us, we made
a right, and several hours later we crossed the border into the southern barony of the Kyarhat Princedom. We hadn't encountered any undead along the way, and I didn't feel like guessing where they had gone to or whether they had been here at all. It was theoretically possible that some player or group of players had gotten as lucky with the spawn from the Gray Frontier as I'd gotten with the demons, but I wasn't the kind of optimist to cling to such a theory. More likely, Vill had taken the mobs under his banners, seeing as he didn't have Velial or anyone else to answer to. The bottom line was, and regardless of any undead reinforcements, Vill was indeed at the apex of his power despite recently losing two of his companions. Hart! Though the fury and self-loathing for the shameful retreat were gradually receding, my mood was as sour as ever. The only one looking even gloomier was Vaessa, riding still and silent like an Egyptian mummy despite Kan's and Reece's best efforts to console her.

  "My mother... your friend... She shoved me into Hurd's arms and bid him to leave... To follow Zara and Hagedia, who were also getting their kids out..." Reece spoke softly, avoiding looking at the magus. "You know what happened next. Some stay behind so that others can leave... But those who leave, they come back at a later time, and have their vengeance."

  "That doesn't help me..." Vaessa sighed, clutching the reins in her hand as she stared listlessly at the road ahead.

  "Would you quit whining already!" I snapped at her. "What makes you think your father is dead?"

  "Do you honestly think that he could have survived against a pair of spurned gods? All by himself?" the demoness turned sharply to me, defiance in her eyes.

  "No, I don't. But even if he wasn't able to escape them, he will resurrect."

  "A god's companion could spent a millennium in Oblivion!" Vaessa half-spoke half-growled.

  "Yeah, and?! If Celphata dies, he won't have any chance at all! And if we had stayed behind, what chances did we have against them? You, me, her..." I waved in the direction of Raena, riding just behind Reece. "Say we took a stand there, at the crossroads by Kirana's temple. Would we have changed much, a swarm of flies against a duo of war elephants?" I drew a sigh, the continued in a calmer tone of voice. "Look, our objective hasn't changed. The Twice Cursed bastard must go. And all we need to make that happen is snuff out his last companion, track down Hel, and liberate your Mistress from her fruity tilery, or whatever you call it."