by Jeff Wilcox
“My, what was that?” Id’ril groaned, sitting up and massaging his aching head. Then he saw the diamonds still sitting on the small, portable wooden altar. “It failed. I’m sorry, Blademaster Kaiyr. I have failed you.”
Kaiyr sat up and glanced over at Caineye and Wild before turning to Id’ril. “No,” he said, his voice filled with a deep sadness. “You did not fail. Lady Solaria did not wish to return.”
At the blademaster’s words, Wild burst into tears again, and Caineye stared blankly at the ground. Rising, Kaiyr gently laid Solaria’s head on the grass. “I will begin preparations for her burial.”
It did not take long to select a place to put Solaria to rest. The perfect spot seemed to reveal itself as though with a mind of its own. A small stream ran through a clearing filled with the same purple flowers Solaria had been picking in Arvanos’s glade. After resting from the mental exertion of meeting with both Arvanos and Solaria, Kaiyr took up shovels with Caineye and Wild, and together, the three of them dug Solaria’s grave.
The service afterward was a simple one, with Id’ril and Eledath saying prayers as the trio tearfully replaced the earth over Solaria’s body. Then they all stood vigil until nightfall, wordless for more than an hour before the sun set.
Finally it was over, and although Kaiyr still knelt on the ground before Solaria’s grave, Caineye and Wild were quietly discussing with Id’ril and Eledath what should be done about the coming danger; this Saraël figure sounded mighty indeed if the necessary preparations for her arrival involved the deaths of thousands upon thousands of Ik’durel’s inhabitants.
“Master Kaiyr,” Id’ril said at last, as the hour neared midnight. “Come. I beg of you to join us in a meal and then to rest. We have all had a long day.”
Kaiyr said nothing for almost a minute. Just as Id’ril was about to try again, the blademaster spoke, his voice calm and full of determination. “No, Father Id’ril. I and my companions have rested this day, and in only a few hours, Saraël will arrive in this world. I intend to meet her on the field of battle and put an end to her designs, whatever they may be.” He leaned over and kissed the ground at the foot of Solaria’s resting place. Then, rising, he turned to Caineye and Wild. Kaiyr’s cheeks showed the stains of tears, but they had by now dried, and he wiped away the evidence of their passing with his sleeve. His resolve hardened to adamantine, and he could see the same was true for both Caineye and Wild; even Vinto seemed ready to avenge the one responsible for the group’s strife.
“Let us go,” Kaiyr intoned in a slow crescendo that turned into a battle-eager growl. Caineye, Wild, and Vinto fell into step beside the blademaster. “We have work to do.”
XLII.
“Well,” Dingo said as we sat down together in my dorm room, “this is it, unless we really don’t wrap things up here.” It was the Friday before finals began, and while Xavier devoted much of his time to studying for his math and accounting courses, I spent most of my time on other endeavors. The college atmosphere at end of the year was too exciting for me to sit down and write the (still unpublished) novel I was writing at the time, so I put many hours into my favorite PlayStation 2 and PC games; Xavier actually welcomed the background noise of me gleefully chopping apart aquatic zombies and witches.
“We’re finishing this campaign tonight?” Matt asked.
“Yeah. I’d like to run during finals, but I need to make sure I do well. Then there’s the packing and getting ready to leave, and I’m leaving on Thursday, so we’d only be able to play through Wednesday. Well, not even that, since I think I have a morning final on Thursday,” Dingo replied, idly tossing a few dice around on his little table. “So, how about a recap of last time?” He looked at me, since I tended to volunteer such reminders.
I rolled my eyes, not at Dingo, but at the various hardships our characters had gone through. “Well, we began with spending forever walking through the streets of Ik’durel to get to the black castle. We met Warteär Nomen there. Oh, and we took Solaria along, since she decided she wanted to play soldier and get her shapely ass killed. Which she did, no thanks to that double-twenty.” I ran my hand through my long hair, got my fingers tangled in it, and then set the whole assembly on my desk, propped up on my elbow. “Uh, we cut him to pieces, then—”
“Hell, yeah,” Matt interjected, leaning forward in his seat for a round of high-fives. As we slapped his palm, as well as each other’s, he added, “Even though I didn’t do anything! High fives to Wild! Woo!”
Sitting back in my chair, I sighed and went on, “Let’s see… oh, and even before we killed Warteär Nomen, the wolf army already seemed a little leery of us. More so when they saw Wild carrying their superior’s head under his arm.”
I glanced at Xavier, who knew what was next, and we both rolled our eyes so hard I could practically hear grinding noises. “We got back to the temple, and after another meeting with Arvanos, Kaiyr got to meet Solaria’s soul, who decided not to come back to life. So we buried her while Linkin Park played Crawling in the background. And now we’ve decided to go find out what Jinn wanted us to see and then kick its ass, whatever it may be.”
The gang chuckled at my addition of a Linkin Park song in the background, and I immediately spun around in my computer chair and found the aforementioned song in my music library. I let it play once during the first few minutes of the game before turning my music off.
“Well,” I said, brushing some eraser dust from my character sheet as Chester Bennington’s voice started bemoaning inner pain and suffering. “Shall we get started?”
*
Kaiyr, Caineye, Wild, and Vinto made their way through the empty streets of Ik’durel in the darkness of the early morning. Mist hung in the air and vainly clawed at the trio as they passed, but the companions were set on their goal and would not be dissuaded by the danger they knew they would face when the sun came up.
It was as they neared their destination that Kaiyr suddenly threw his arm out before Caineye, the blademaster’s elven eyes piercing the darkness better than the human’s. “Wait,” Kaiyr whispered. “There is danger afoot.”
He could not have been more correct, for in that moment, three black-skinned and –winged, silver-eyed angels descended upon them from above with a chorus of battle-cries.
Caineye gave a shout of surprise as he tumbled out of the way. Kaiyr’s soulblade appeared in his hand and parried the first dark angel’s strike, one that could have struck Caineye had Kaiyr not intervened. Unable to see clearly in the predawn dimness, the druid murmured a brief incantation and touched a nearby pebble, which flared into bright light. Then, seeing the second creature dive at the blademaster’s unprotected side, the druid called out, “Master Kaiyr!”
But Kaiyr was ready. His grief yet fueled his rage, and he coolly shifted his footing and released his soulblade. The first dark angel stumbled past, and then Kaiyr’s weapon appeared in his opposite hand, interposing itself between him and the second foe’s weapon, a shining scimitar. Blue-white sparks flew as their blades clashed together, Kaiyr deflecting the blow away and to his left.
Wild squeaked and ducked under the charging swing of the third dark angel, and he rose with a dagger in each hand. “You’re mine,” he said as the creature stood from where it had landed on the cobblestones. “Vinto, want to give me a hand?”
As the dark angel grinned and raised its scimitar in salute, Wild and Vinto closed on it, the wolf circling around as though it were hunting in a pack—which it was. The dark angel lunged for the halfling, fending off Vinto with a buckler strapped to its other arm. Wild, his daggers held point-down in his hands, parried the strike. Unused to such short and agile opponents, the tenebrous enemy overextended itself, helped along when Wild slammed his hilt into that of his opponent, momentarily locking their blades together and guiding the taller being past him.
“Hi,” the halfling said with a little giggle as he pulled the creature’s face close to his. Then he sank his second dagger deep into the dark angel’s
shoulder, drawing first—and very telling—blood.
Kaiyr fought with the utterly calm expression and confident movements that only a true blademaster could command. Nothing came as a surprise to him, and he remained completely unconcerned that his enemies flanked him; his preternatural prescience kept even the enemy at his back guessing where he would be at any given moment.
Watching with a vague look of contempt as one dark angel’s sword cut the air right in front of his face, Kaiyr stepped forward and to the left, causing the foe behind to miss by millimeters—again—dodging an attack he could not possibly have seen.
Caineye stood in awed witness as Kaiyr punished the dark angel who had been behind the blademaster with a decisive strike to the creature’s midsection. Blood speckled the street, and the winged foe bent over momentarily in pain but did not fall.
“I’ll see to that,” the druid muttered, snapping out of his reverie and pulling a long splinter from his spell component pouch. Whispering the incantation to his favorite battle spell, an enormous spear grew in his hand and rocketed toward the dark angel. His aim was true, and the creature stared in confusion at the seven-foot spike in its chest, blood dribbling from its mouth, before it fell over and grew still.
The shock of seeing its ally felled so easily threw Kaiyr’s remaining opponent off-balance, and as it swung down at the blademaster, still distracted by the death of its comrade, Kaiyr simply was not there. He had foreseen the enemy’s attack a long moment before it actually occurred, and the blademaster stepped out of the way, bringing his soulblade up under his opponent’s swing and opening the dark angel’s axillary artery with a gory fountain of blood. As the creature doubled over in pain and to staunch the flow of its lifeblood, Kaiyr stepped to the side, whirled his soulblade in the air once, and descended with a clean cut right through the dark angel’s neck.
As the head of Kaiyr’s foe rolled across the ground, Vinto and Wild were finishing with their opponent. Realizing its doom, the last dark angel attempted to flee, but Vinto latched onto its heel with his powerful jaws, sending the enemy toppling to the ground. Wild spared no time in leaping upon the creature’s wings and drawing his enchanted daggers in an X across the back of the black-skinned neck.
*
Dingo stared at the battle grid, dumbfounded. “How… Holy shit, you guys mopped the floor with my nether angels.”
“Nether angels?” I asked, blowing imaginary smoke from my finger-guns. “That what they’re called?”
“Pushovers,” Matt said, stretching as though this had been a warm-up. “I’m ready for a real challenge now.”
Dingo stared down at his sheets, whereupon he had written the statistics for his nether angels
[46] . “I… anyway, yeah, they’re nether angels. They’re pretty much the same thing Luna was before you tossed her into the pool.” He scratched his head. “God damn. How did you do that?”
I shrugged. I knew he wasn’t really looking for an explanation. “Well, in-game, we can chalk it up to our characters’ determination not to let anything slow them down. That battle lasted only eighteen seconds. Less, if you consider Caineye didn’t get a third turn in there.”
“Yeah, but how the hell did you do it without taking a single hit?”
“Well, Caineye stayed back, Wild’s got a decent AC, and he and Vinto tag-teamed that other angel really well. I’ve got improved uncanny dodge, so those other two couldn’t flank
[47] me, and that, combined with me using Combat Expertise for two—which activated my Deadly Defense feat—and my already-astronomical AC… they couldn’t touch me except on a twenty.”
Dingo whistled. “That’s some character building there… and teamwork, too. Good one, Wild and Vinto, on that nether angel. I thought I might have been able to hit one of you, though.”
In response, Xavier said nothing, but he cracked his fingers.
“Hehe,” I chuckled. “So, what happens next?”
*
The companions arrived at the base of the black castle a full hour before predawn light brightened the horizon. All of them wore grim expressions, even Wild, who, despite his undying curiosity to find out what great event would transpire here, feared for his companions. He had begun to think of them as friends and did not wish to see them fall.
“It’s all destroyed,” Caineye said in wonder, casting his gaze about the rubble. He could not see very well in the darkness, but the damage was visible even with so little light. Vinto sniffed at pieces of the destroyed castle but did not stray far from his master’s side.
Wild kicked a fragment of obsidian out of the way, and it skittered into the blackness. “Maybe the castle was actually some kind of egg for that thing Atradeus killed.”
The halfling and druid both looked over at Kaiyr, expecting some kind of speculative, if brief, comment from the ever-analyzing blademaster. But no such words were forthcoming. Kaiyr lowered himself to the ground and knelt silently, hands laid calmly in his lap.
Caineye and Wild exchanged worried looks. Kaiyr had fallen into this sort of silent brooding once before on the Flaring Nebula, when the dreadful events in Andorra and the death of Astra had become too much for him to bear. He had been unpleasant company then, but this time, something was different. Where before he had become sullen and irritable, now he merely stared at the obsidian rubble with a look of determination. He would see this battle through to victory even if it killed him, as though through force of will alone he would rewrite fate to suit his desires.
The next several hours slipped silently by as the companions awaited Jinn’s arrival. When the shadowy creature finally made his appearance, it was just as the sun’s first light began to brighten the sky, even though the empyreal sphere had not yet shown its full face. More, Jinn was not alone, and five other watchers just like him billowed into the area before the ruined castle. It was impossible to tell which of the smoky beings was Jinn or whether any of them truly was the watcher they had met, for he did not announce himself to the trio.
Caineye and Wild glanced at Kaiyr, seeking any sign of action from the blademaster. But the elf sat stoically on his knees, where he hadn’t moved for hours, and watched the six insubstantial beings.
The watchers arranged themselves in a ring around a portion of the street relatively free of debris, each stretching itself out to touch the others on either side of it. Then, as the sky continued to brighten, the watchers’ forms pulsated with luminescence, as though drawing light from the rising sun to fuel their ceremony.
“We’ve been had,” Caineye muttered to Vinto, who gave a light whuff in response. “Jinn said he and his kind watch events unfold. Looks to me more like they’re making them happen, wouldn’t you agree?”
Again, Vinto grunted a wolfish response; whether he actually agreed or merely reacted to his master’s voice was a secret they alone shared.
The watchers’ bodies suddenly burst into brilliance when the first ray of sunlight crested the horizon. They wavered and shrieked as many parts of their bodies flowed from their forms to coalesce in the center of the ring.
Squinting past the glaring radiance, Caineye recognized just what the watchers had been hiding inside their bodies. “Oh, gods,” he said to Wild and Kaiyr. “We’ve really been had. It’s the artifacts! It’s Ministriel’s Regalia!”
Wild shook his head, but Kaiyr did not reply except to rise. He still did not manifest his soulblade nor make ready for battle; he was already prepared, mentally, to strike or defend as necessary.
The watchers continued holding their ring even as the sunlight stripped their bodies of smoke, revealing nothing underneath. Ministriel’s Regalia floated in the air at their center, arranged as though they clad an invisible body beneath them—and this was not far from the truth.
As the trio gazed on in wonder, a form became visible, the watcher’s smoke pouring in to fill gaps in the armor. As the lower half of the sun became visible, the body wearing Ministriel’s Regalia flared once and then became the corpor
eal, pale flesh of a beautiful and terrifying creature.
“It’s… an angel,” Caineye whispered.
At this, the angel’s eyes snapped open and stared at the druid. The watcher’s bodies gave one final screech and rose up, attaching themselves to the angel’s back. Each watcher became one of the divine being’s six feathered wings, one in each color of the six-color rainbow.
As the radiance died down, the angel’s bare feet touched the ground. An energized current ran through the stones at the celestial being’s touch, and the companions could feel it through their own contact with the ground. Vinto yelped and jumped away, but when the sensation heralded no further threat, he settled on a perturbed snarl.
She—and this angel was decidedly female—opened her mouth, and rolling thunder issued forth: “You, mortals who have interposed yourselves between me and my goals, I tell you now: stand down. I am she who was once known as Saraël. You will bow to me of your own accord, or I shall force you to your knees.”
“You are a fallen angel,” Kaiyr said, his tone hard. He stepped forward to stand between Caineye and Wild. “And you seek to return to the gods’ sides?”
“I seek nothing,” Saraël’s voice rumbled through the ruined street, vibrating the trio to their very cores. “I seek nothing; it is simply so. I will return to the heavens and resume my place, but not beneath the gods. I shall be a god, and my justice shall be absolute!”
Kaiyr’s eyes narrowed. “Hm,” he snorted, “your absolute justice demands the sacrifice of thousands, if not millions, of people? Your justice requires the destruction of entire pantheons? Your justice means the deaths of friends we hold dear?”
“It’s nothing personal,” Wild added nonchalantly. “Oh, wait. It is. Hehe.” His daggers flashed into his hands, where he twirled them idly.