He was slowing down, succumbing to fatigue from the prolonged sprint, but she remained as calm and stoic as ever. This was nothing to her. Was she playing with him even now? As this dreadful thought flowed through his mind, Valentean felt the point of Aleksandra’s bony elbow crack him in the chin. He dropped to the ground, blood pouring from his face as he attempted to roll to his feet.
She was at him instantly with a rising knee that was meant for his chest. Reaching out, the animus warrior blocked her with both arms crossed over her intended target. But as soon as they made contact, Valentean felt the now familiar sensation of her snake-like braid elongating to wrap around his throat. Aleksandra vaulted over his head, and the hair coil casually flicked Valentean to the side, sending the animus warrior smacking into the ground, where he rolled toward the bank of the lake.
She was rushing at him again. Valentean had to think fast. He looked past the charging sorceress toward his princess, who watched him with blossoming hope in her eyes. Thinking on Seraphina allowed the power of order to shine once more in his heart, focusing on the small spark of Sera that existed within him. Valentean’s eyes burned with blue light, and he called upon the lake, sending rocketing frozen ice barbs careening toward his foe. Aleksandra ducked beneath the first onslaught and knocked several frozen spears from the air with her arms. Valentean shot a stream of water at the empress, catching her by surprise and once more knocking her to the ground. Aleksandra rose with a burst of fire that evaporated the water dousing her into steam. She snarled and glared at Valentean, rushing him. He attempted to lash out with water, but the enraged empress leapt over his feeble attempt at offense and casually smacked him back into the lake, skipping across its surface like a stone before coming to rest on the far bank.
In his frustration, Valentean could feel the echo of chaos now contained within his heart wanting to be released. While he had come to accept the awesome force for what it truly was and was reasonably sure he could now control it, he was hesitant to release the blaze. A small part of him still feared its influence. As these thoughts continued to trouble him, Aleksandra sped across the lake, slamming her forehead into his own, sending the animus warrior falling to the ground, clutching at his aching face.
“Poor Valentean,” Aleksandra remarked, advancing on him slowly. “You thought you had the advantage, didn’t you?”
Her stamina was unreal. Valentean cursed her seemingly never-ending stores of resiliency. Then he remembered The Eye and that barbaric throne, which he had stolen only casual glances at since arriving in this horrible chamber.
With those instruments flooding her with continuous chaos energy, he never stood a chance at wearing her down. He had to trust in Nevick. He needed to trust that his friend could get this job done and save them all. Then and only then could he stand a slight chance at defeating the ultimate evil.
“Well, Shogai, the time has finally come for you to—”
A globule of water erupted out from the lake and surrounded her head like a liquid helmet. As the sorceress thrashed, the assaulting water pulled her back, smashing her through the surface of the lake, completely submerging her. Instantly, the entire lake froze into a solid sheet of ice. Valentean looked out across the water to see Seraphina standing there, one hand outstretched in the wake of her spell, the other clutching at her midsection, still in terrible agony. She had come to his aid when he needed her most, reminding the animus warrior that the oath he had sworn to her was a two-way road.
“Together?” she called out to him over the frozen surface.
“Always,” he answered back as the ice exploded in a crimson eruption.
Princess and animus warrior braced themselves and attacked as one.
XXX: Casid’s Vengeance
Zouka’s titanic fist nearly caved in Nevick’s sternum as knuckles smacked against skin. The warrior of Casid was toppled by the mighty blow, rolling along the roof of the fortress, resigned beneath a dark night sky. Sounds slowly trickled into the big man’s ears, becoming distinguishable through the static white noise reverberating through his head following the latest clubbing attack from his hated adversary.
From far off, he could hear the sounds of large-scale warfare. The warriors of Grassan and Karminia, under the banner of Emperor McNeil, were clashing with the remaining Skirlack forces, attempting to force their way into the city, which, according to their carefully constructed plan, would be void of one all-powerful sorceress and ripe for the taking. But his inability to destroy The Eye had hindered the entire operation.
The roof vibrated beneath him, and the sound of a truly titanic encounter could scarcely be heard through the thick layer of stone. The battle against Aleksandra was raging on. And with The Eye still continuing to siphon the power of chaos from the air and concentrate it into her, his friends had no hope. So much was banking on him. The entire plan rested on his broad shoulders.
Movement at the base of The Eye reminded him the grand plan was not all that counted on him. Deana struggled weakly on her stomach. Her continued presence upon this battlefield had drained his concentration and added an extra layer of extreme anxiety to an encounter that would already have taken every fiber of fight within his being.
Zouka’s pounding footsteps were growing louder and faster as the Gorram beast charged his downed opponent. Nevick was not going to give the creature an opportunity to continue its momentary advantage. Pushing off the ground, he met the incoming behemoth’s midsection with his shoulder, grabbing the general by the back of the thighs and pulling as he drove onward.
Both men collapsed to the ground, with Nevick landing solidly on top of his rival. He attempted to press his advantage, raining ham-sized fists down upon Zouka’s exposed chest and face. This man, this…thing…had taken so much, done so much wrong. Nevick trembled with rage as he imagined the faces of those lost to the general’s might, ending with his two closest friends, Mitchell and Michael Duzel. It was their technological marvels that had allowed the team to come this far. Their airship transported the team to Kahntran and Grassan. Without their aid, Kackritta would still be encased by an energy barrier, and Nahzarro’s home would be wiped from the map.
He wondered if history would remember the names of those brave men and quickly realized that would only be the case if he triumphed here on this night. This thought added an extra burst of strength to his blows as he sought to cave in this devil’s scarred and putrid face.
Zouka moved his head to the side, allowing Nevick’s fist to impact the stone of the roof, which cracked beneath the force. Grabbing Nevick by the throat, Zouka pulled him down while throwing his head forward to smash the warrior of Casid in the face with his thick forehead.
Nevick recoiled, which gave Zouka the opportunity he needed to wriggle free, rise to his knees, and smash both fists into Nevick’s rib cage. The big man rolled across the roof, digging his thick fingers through the dark stone in order to stop his dangerous momentum. Spitting a wad of blood through his lips, Nevick gritted his teeth and thought once more on the Duzel brothers.
I’ll avenge you, my friends. Erupting to his feet, Nevick screamed in rage and sprinted at the monster once more, determined to end this battle and fulfill his role.
Michael was alive. He was shocked at first, but that overwhelming surprise was soon replaced by an avalanche of pain, which wracked the wounded mechanic over every conceivable centimeter of his body.
As he pulled himself up from the floor and into the pilot’s seat, a flash of agony choked him, and Michael screamed. Looking down, he nearly passed out once more. A jagged shard of the control panel had torn away and impaled him through the stomach. Blood was slowly trickling out around the wound, staining his jumpsuit and spilling out onto the floor.
“Ughhh,” a voice groaned by his side. Michael slowly turned his face to see Mitchell strapped in to the chair next to him. Zouka’s blade was still lodged in his chest, and Mitchell was deathly white. He didn’t have long to live.
“Mitchell,”
Michael said, reaching a stubby arm toward his older brother.
“Have to…help…them,” Mitchell groaned, sweat pouring off his bare scalp, intermingling with the blood upon his waxen face.
“We can’t,” Michael whispered back, though every word tore his torso to pieces with pain. “We’re…we’re not getting out of this one, brother.”
“I know…” Mitchell replied. “But…the ship…it can still…fly…for a moment.”
“What?” Michael asked, wincing as his jerk of shock tore at his gaping wound all the more. He spat a mouthful of blood out with a violent cough.
“Listen…” Mitchell said, raising a shaking hand and gesturing around them. “I know…my baby.”
Michael focused his hearing past the reverberating pressure of his weakening heartbeat and gasped. The engine was still humming. It was weak, sputtering even. But it was operational. How long could it stay that way though? If it lasted ten minutes, it would be the most dynamic miracle to ever occur on Terran soil. “We don’t have time…” he said to his dying brother. “What could we do?”
Mitchell tried to reply, but a fit of coughs brought bright red internal blood to his lips, and he gestured out the broken viewport toward the city. The Eye continued to shine its crimson light upon the battlefield.
“Something must have happened,” Michael said, shaking his head. “They should have…taken that thing down…by now.”
Mitchell coughed once more, a stream of blood erupting from his mouth and pouring through his goatee to drip off his chin. “Well…” the inventor choked out, “now it’s…our…turn.”
Valentean and Aleksandra locked fingers together, each jockeying for a superior position of strength. The animus warrior’s face was contorted in concentration and effort. Could he actually hope to match the empress in terms of brawn? He doubted it. Instead, he was simply trying to keep her in one place.
Seraphina cried out in the distance, pointing her fingertips at Aleksandra and letting loose a storm of blue lightning. The sorceress simply laughed, wrenching her hands easily from Valentean’s grip. She kicked out, striking the white dragon in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground, then met her sister’s barrage with a wave of red light, forcing the bolts to fizzle out long before they had reached their intended target.
Gesturing forcefully, Aleksandra sent a whirling fireball careening for Seraphina. The blue-clad princess met the attack head-on with a shield of flowing water, which exploded in a hiss of steam upon contact. Seraphina fell back with the force of the spell, slamming into the ground, and Valentean felt an explosion of rage blossom within his heart.
Seraphina was such a capable enchantress, and he was proud of her vast abilities. But still, the sight of her so callously hammered down like that stoked the fire of his memories, drawing him back to that fateful day in the woods when the beast had nearly taken her life. The words of his oath resounded in his mind, and Valentean decided that he had to do something drastic.
He opened the mental walls behind which he had imprisoned the spark of Aleksandra’s essence. The chaos could be a tool. He had learned what it felt like to fall out of control, and as long as he kept a handle on his emotional state, Valentean knew he could now control it.
Red light found his eyes, and Valentean shot a stream of flame at his hated enemy. Aleksandra turned in time to see the fireball slam into her flank, exploding against her robes and tossing her to the ground.
“Well,” she exclaimed, leaping easily to her feet once more, “you now dare to use the power of my beloved Goddess against me.”
“Shut up and fight,” Valentean growled, biting back on the rage blossoming within his heart and mind.
“Are you sure you have it in you though? You think you can control the chaos, Valentean, but chaos is beyond control. Chaos IS control.”
Valentean’s concentration was focused on the pulsating power within his heart, and he had no reply to the empress’s scalding words. Instead, he responded with another burst of superheated, crimson flame, but Aleksandra was prepared this time.
She met his flame with one of her own, and hers was larger, more powerful, and bowled the animus warrior over easily. Valentean’s smoking body rolled helplessly along the green grass floor. This momentary distraction allowed the chaos to grip him internally, and rather than counterattack, Valentean had to keep his focus inward lest he lose control. This was a mistake. A momentary advantage was not worth the danger he might represent should the chaos take him again.
Aleksandra knew better than to give him an opportunity to regroup. As Valentean struggled up to one knee, a burst of red lightning slammed into his chest, tossing the animus warrior back and sending his smoking body rolling along the ground.
The pain only fanned the flames of rage within Valentean’s heart, and the red light upon his eyes deepened. He bared his teeth in a predatory snarl, his palms smoking as he prepared to launch himself at the hated sorceress. As he was about to move, a wall of ice shot up between the combatants, and Seraphina was at his side.
His princess reached out and touched him on the shoulder. As red eyes met glowing azure pools of order, Valentean felt the flames of his rage die.
“You don’t need it,” Seraphina said, her voice calm and yet firm. “Calm yourself, Val. We don’t need to stoop to that level.” Her words and her stare were enough to beat back the inferno of his anger, and Valentean felt the cooling pulsation of his love for this wonderful woman explode out from his heart. The crimson light upon his eyes fizzled out, and the familiar white light of The Rosintai found his stare.
“Thank you, Sera,” he replied with a half-smile. The wall of ice separating them from Aleksandra shattered, and twin bursts of burning energy slammed into the two young lovers, sending them falling back onto the ground, gasping for breath.
Vahn watched in horror as Valentean and Seraphina faced off with this truly terrifying foe. In these last several months, Vahn had seen some remarkable sights. But the empress’s power was on a whole other level. Something had to be done fast, or the only hope for a peaceful Terra would die in this unnatural chamber.
But what could he do? He was but a mortal man. His skills as a warrior would be nothing more than a hindrance to his son’s epic struggle. A burst of movement from his side drew Vahn’s attention. Looking down, he gasped in surprise as Kayden had begun to move.
Vahn knelt at his son’s side, turning the tattered young man over. “Kayden,” he said, his voice insistent. “Kayden, my son, please hear me.” If Vahn Burai the elite warrior had no use on this battlefield, perhaps Vahn Burai the father could make a difference.
Kayden’s eyes were opening, slowly coming into focus. Seeing his father’s face hovering above him forced recognition into the young man’s stare. Then, his eyes came alight with the purple energy of darkness, and Kayden’s arm shot out, snatching his father by the throat as he silently glared at the old man.
“Kayden…” Vahn said, choking, “son…listen…to me.” Vahn’s face hardened into a stern mask of authority, and Kayden’s powerful stare flickered. Vahn felt the pressure ease off his windpipe just enough to allow for breath. Kayden still held his throat tightly, but now at least he could make his voice heard.
“Son, please. You aren’t the monster Aleksandra made you out to be. Please, Kayden. Please, for me, for the love I bear for you. Please help us!”
“What…?” Kayden started to ask, turning his head as the sound of magic ripped through the air. He gasped seeing Aleksandra continuing to thrash both Valentean and Seraphina simultaneously.
“You see, son? Your brother can’t handle this alone. Neither can Seraphina. They need you. Terra needs you. I need you, Kayden.” Vahn reached down, and his fingertips slowly caressed his son’s strong cheek. “Please, Kayden. Please.”
Valentean heard Seraphina cry out as she smashed into the ground beside him. Looking to his right, he saw the pained expression worn by the woman he had sworn his life to. A sizzling slice throu
gh the air alerted the animus warrior to danger, and in recognition of his oath, he threw himself between his lady and the oncoming spell.
A burst of flame smashed into Valentean’s back, sending him soaring along the battlefield, past Seraphina until he landed face-first in the grass and dirt. A whooshing burst of speed told him his momentary distraction had worked. Before his face stood Aleksandra’s tall black leather boots.
“Ever the animus warrior,” she remarked, grinding the toe of her boot into the ground as though she were imagining snuffing out his life like that of an insect. “You throw yourself into danger and the face of death, fulfilling your oath to that creature. But I will in this moment allow you to make a new oath, Valentean. Simply kiss my boots, and I will spare my sister’s life. The oath demands your fealty, Valentean. Save your lady.”
Valentean grimaced in the face of this false offer. She was mocking him, mocking his devotion and his love all at the same time. Valentean spat a wad of blood onto the toe of the empress’s boot in defiance of her will.
Aleksandra scoffed as he climbed up to his knees. “Pitiful. What kind of animus warrior are you? Champion Animus of Terra, indeed. Those who violate the oath have but one sentence, Valentean. Death!”
Aleksandra raised a hand as if to strike down at him, and Valentean winced in preparation of the terrible impact he expected. But the sorceress stopped as a strong hand clamped down around her forearm. Both Aleksandra and Valentean turned their heads in time to see Kayden grasping his lady by the arm, eyes aglow with darkness. He lashed out with his other fist that was covered in an enormous bundle of glowing, purple stones.
Kayden’s defiant punch landed solidly along Aleksandra’s jaw, exploding in a hailstorm of pebbles as the mighty empress was thrown violently back. Valentean gasped in shock, looking up at his larger twin brother, who simply scoffed and glared at him.
Rosinanti: Rise of the Dragon Lord (Rosinanti Series Book 3) Page 46