“Get up,” Kayden barked down at him and turned his back on his brother to face their enemy.
The battle outside the gates of Aleksandrya was bloody and brutal. McNeil moved through the carnage with the grace of a ghost, hacking, slashing, and stabbing until his curved blade appeared to be forged from black demon blood. The creatures were surprisingly agile for their immense size, and the hounds had proven to be particularly annoying. Even so, his soldiers were cutting through them with no reinforcements in sight.
That must have meant the Dragon-Lord and his companions had managed to expunge the demon Aurax from this realm. Phase one of the operation was successful. But as the red light of The Eye continued to bathe the heavens in its crimson glow, McNeil realized that all had not gone according to plan. What had happened out there? Had the Dragon-Lord actually failed? McNeil bitterly thought to himself that had he been present as initially suggested, failure would not have occurred.
Sensing a presence rising behind him, the emperor ducked, allowing the blade of General Belladon to pass above him, opening the chest of another creature. McNeil spun to the right, taking the head of an incoming hound, standing back to back with his general.
“Their numbers dwindle, Sire,” she said, a hint of triumph cutting through her tone.
“Yes, but unless the Dragon-Lord takes down that crystal, there will be no hope for victory.” The sound of roaring machinery drew McNeil’s attention toward the smoldering ruins of what had once been the airship of his temporary allies. He had watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as it went down, hoping that the inventor and mechanic had been aboard. It would be the final justice for their betrayal of the empire to go down in flames alongside the creation they pilfered. But it seemed as though their demise might have been premature. The crash site was far enough away where McNeil couldn’t quite make out what was transpiring, but the rackety clanging of the airship’s engine told him it was not long for the air.
“They are a resilient lot, aren’t they?” McNeil asked, watching as the airship slowly began to climb. The general grunted in disapproving agreement. Then, the two warriors leapt in opposite directions, continuing the battle in hopes that somehow, some way, the Dragon-Lord would prevail.
What am I doing? Kayden thought to himself as he watched the body of his former mistress smack into the ground. A part of him felt wretched inside, and the darkness within him churned in disagreement. Gazing down at his brother filled him with a further sense of loathing and hideous self-doubt.
I’m not doing this for him, Kayden thought, trying to justify his actions. She has belittled and abused me for far too long. This had to happen eventually. So why not now?
Kayden turned away from Valentean, focusing fully on Aleksandra, who rose to her feet with a look of astonished anger darkening her already sharp features.
“You…” she said, her voice quaking with the strain of her rage. “You vile traitor. You would throw your lot in with your hated brother, forswear your oath to me, and doom yourself to a horrible death by fire? And for what? To make a statement? Some trivial act of defiance? I thought you more intelligent than that, Kayden.”
“You’ve never thought anything of me,” he spat back, focusing his raging emotions upon her red-eyed stare. “You’ve only ever seen me as a tool, doling out insulting assignments meant to belittle and humble me. Well, the time has finally come, my lady, for you to learn that you cannot leash the darkness!”
Aleksandra scoffed. “I can do whatever I like, little man. You know nothing of what it is like to be my enemy. Are you sure you’re ready to find out?”
Kayden dropped into a combat stance, studying the sorceress, rather than answer her. Let my actions do the talking.
Though, in his heart of hearts, Kayden knew that he was terrified. She was so powerful, so omnipresent. He had seen it, had felt it in her presence every day and night since Lazman. But something within him had changed. Since his thrashing at Valentean’s hand, it was as if something had shifted. He felt stronger, more in control of his power. He knew he could match her now. He had to.
Kayden channeled the inner power of darkness, flooding his body with its invigorating hue. Once more, the air around him darkened, and streaks of purple lightning scratched at the space around him.
“Kayden…” came the voice of his brother, once more standing and at his shoulder. Kayden shot Valentean a scorching sidelong look.
“Leave this to me,” he barked. It was not a request. “When I’m done here, you and I still have unfinished business.” Before Valentean could respond, Kayden launched himself at his former mistress. Charging a fist with mana, Kayden aimed for her head, but Aleksandra seemed to float out of the attack’s path. Kayden continued, unfettered, launching a series of lightning-fast punches and kicks, all designed to disable or kill. But no matter how quickly he moved, no matter how expertly he varied his offense, still Aleksandra was untouchable.
“What’s wrong, Kayden?” She mocked him with an unfaltering smirk while continuing to blur out of the path of his most devastating attacks. “Not fast enough?”
The sound of her jeering mockery stabbed at his rage, and Kayden screamed in frustration. He broke off his attack, rolling to the side, and summoned large chunks of rock that rose from the unnatural landscape on which they stood.
Kayden hurled the stones at Aleksandra, filling the air like a meteor shower, but still she dodged nimbly, bobbing, darting, and bending her way out of Kayden’s path. She had yet to block or meet his attacks with any kind of force. She was…toying with him. Then, she apparently decided that the fun had ended. A burst of flame rocketed from her outstretched hand, disintegrating Kayden’s stony projectiles and careening toward the Spirit of Darkness.
The former animus warrior tried to dodge out of the way, but the flame struck him along the side, and he crashed to the ground. Kayden cursed into the grass, clutching at his scorched torso. Even with all of this strength, all of this power, he still could not free himself from her grasp.
Aleksandra bore a grim expression as she glowered down at him, rising into the air, arms spread like wings. “Kayden Burai,” she bellowed down at him, sounding as official and regal as ever. “For your willful betrayal of the Oath of Animus, I, Aleksandra Kackritta, Empress of Aleksandrya, hereby sentence you to death!” Red lightning poured from her talon-like fingers, scratching through the air as they hurtled toward their target.
Kayden looked up into the face of his death and glared at it in defiant hatred. But then, a flash before his eyes deposited Valentean in his midst. He waved his arms in a series of whirling motions, summoning a surge of wind that solidified into white energy. Aleksandra’s magic struck this barrier, and Valentean’s defensive technique held against it. Kayden could hear his brother straining and struggling and watched in dumbfounded fascination.
“What are you doing?” he yelled out to Valentean over the din of clashing forces. His brother said nothing in response, simply cried out in exertion as he continued to ward off Aleksandra’s final assault. Kayden found the sting of tears upon his eyes. What was Valentean doing? He could have sacrificed Kayden and used the opportunity to continue the assault upon the sorceress unfettered. So…why was he doing this? Then, Kayden felt a pair of hands settle onto his shoulders.
“Can you walk?” It was Seraphina crouched behind him, trying to lift his bulk from the ground. Kayden grunted in response and rose to his knees. Seraphina draped one of his large arms over her shoulders and pulled the struggling animus warrior to his knees. Together they ran and stumbled out of harm’s way. “We’re clear!” she shouted to Valentean.
Kayden watched as his brother broke off his shielding and leapt back, landing beside them. “Are you all right, Kay?” he asked, concern etched across his face.
Kayden stared at Valentean, mouth agape and brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m fine,” he replied simply once he found his voice, straightening and removing his weight from Seraphina’s body.
&nb
sp; “This only works if we do it together,” the Ice Queen said, looking at the Burai brothers with concern and a hint of frustration. “Please, let’s do this! For the fate of our entire world!”
Valentean nodded and looked at Kayden, his eyes pleading with his twin brother. “Please, Kay.”
For the first time since Lazman, Kayden looked into his brother’s eyes, void of the hateful screech of darkness. Perhaps in these dire circumstances, it would be in his best interest to cooperate. Kayden gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. Valentean gave him a small half-smile, and he could hear Seraphina audibly exhale.
The three spirits of Terra turned and stared at Aleksandra, who casually floated to the ground.
“So, here we are then. Three of the four corners allied against one. Well, my dear friends, perhaps the time has come to battle as true gods should!” A red glow surrounded the empress, blinding in its crimson fury. Kayden winced but would not look away. He knew what was coming, and he gathered his strength in preparation to meet it. As the light faded, standing there before them was Aleksandra in her massive red dragon body, far larger and more powerful than any of them.
Seraphina gasped, Valentean’s muscles tightened, and Kayden smiled.
“Let’s do this,” Valentean said, his flesh already beginning to pulsate with alabaster energy. Seraphina began to light up next as the metamorphosis began. Kayden’s smile spread across his entire face as he called upon his true self. The darkness flooded through his body, accompanied by an explosion of purple light.
Anytime Nevick’s enormous bulk slammed into that of Zouka, the impact was accompanied by a thunderous booming, which shook the stone beneath them. After one such collision, Zouka stumbled back, frustrated that the human’s newfound strength seemed to be more than a match for his own.
The last several months had been a harrowing reality check for the Gorram, in which all he had once believed about himself had come crashing down around him. For decades, since the utter annihilation of his people, Zouka had believed himself to be alone in the world. Not only were his kin gone, never to return, but he saw himself as vastly superior to the weak and feeble humans who surrounded him.
The reemergence of the Rosinanti had filled him with a sense of profound excitement. He believed the risen dragons would pose an equal challenge to his might. But then he realized the truth of the matter. The Rosinanti were far above him, and against their might, he stood no chance. While such a thought was sobering to the ultimate warrior of the Gorram, it was not altogether damning. The Rosintai was a god made flesh, as was the empress. It stood to reason that they could not only match him but exceed him to such a degree.
This human though…that was unforgivable.
A no-name, faceless nothing from some backwater hovel had toppled him on two occasions. This egregious, despicable series of occurrences had caused the general to question everything he had ever known. It was the continued existence of this pinnacle of the human species that drove his every step toward perfecting his own body. And up until this moment, he believed that he had.
But still, the warrior of Casid matched him move for move. What’s more, as Zouka was beginning to slow, the younger warrior seemed to be getting stronger with every exchange. As they slammed together once more, grappling and jostling for position, Zouka felt a tremor quaking his back leg. Nevick pushed upon him, and Zouka took a step back. Then another. Then another.
“You’re done,” Nevick growled into Zouka’s sunken face. “Treasure these breaths because they’re amongst your last.”
Zouka hissed in frustration and annoyance as a fresh burst of pressure from the human sent him back another step. “You will never defeat me! I am the legacy of the Gorram. I am the champion of my people! No human can defeat me!”
“Well, I am the legacy of Casid. I am the champion of my own people, good and loving human beings whose potential will never be realized because of you. And this human is going to defeat you!”
Nevick slammed his head into Zouka’s face while maintaining his grip upon the Gorram’s arms. He reared back and struck the big man again and again. The pounding impact reverberated through Zouka’s entire body. The sudden jolts of pain only served to weaken him further, and the steady trickle of hot blood winding down his face told Zouka the end was near. Unless he did something drastic.
In that moment, the general decided that in such dire straits, it was permissible for the ultimate warrior of the Gorram to cheat. He dragged his fingers over the warrior’s eyes, causing Nevick to recoil lest he be blinded. As he released his hold on Zouka, the general let fly with a tightly balled punch that sent Nevick falling to the roof. Rather than press this momentary advantage and risk the resilient fighter turning the tables once more, Zouka knew there was one weakness he could still exploit. The one trump card he had come prepared with in the case of such an eventuality.
The Gorram leapt back, reaching down and making eye contact with the crippled girl. She was horrified and pale as though she could read Zouka’s every thought. He chuckled to himself. Were that in her power, she might have attempted to roll her way off the roof and fall to her death rather than suffer the horrors the Gorram general had planned.
As Nevick rose to his feet, Zouka’s massive hand grasped the woman around the head and torso, easily lifting her useless body into the air. Her legs dangled limply as her weak and ineffectual arms smacked helplessly against his powerful fingers. The warrior of Casid was advancing, charging with a desperation born of love. Zouka turned, holding the girl out between them like a shield.
The human stopped and glared at him in scorching hatred, though beneath the rage, Zouka could see something else. A wild terror.
“This ends now,” Zouka said, squeezing the girl lightly, which elicited a pained gasp from his captive. Nevick stopped, lowered his arms, and deflated before Zouka’s triumphant eyes.
The general lashed out with a titanic arm, striking his once mighty foe with a vicious backhand that sent him smacking into the stone. With a smile of victory spreading along his face, Zouka advanced, still holding the girl before him, to claim his long-awaited win.
The flashing lights given off by the titanic forms of four warring gods forced Maura to cover her eyes. Gritting her teeth as the dragons descended upon one another, she winced through the glare, lowering her arms to take in the full scope of the battle for Terra’s future. The red dragon was massive beyond comprehension, easily dwarfing the scaled trio that tried desperately to overwhelm it.
Maura’s vision adjusted to the light emanating from the colored scales of the combatants as the blue dragon leapt onto the red’s back. Seraphina sank her jaws into Aleksandra’s magma-colored flesh, and the crimson beast roared, seemingly more out of annoyance than pain. Then, the white dragon she had come to know so well charged in, mouth aglow with energy. Valentean loosed the gathered beam of destruction, and it exploded against Aleksandra’s looming face. The red monstrosity recoiled but did not fall.
Then, Maura’s blood turned to fire and ice. The black dragon, rising from behind Valentean like a twisted shadow, took to the air and descended upon Aleksandra, ripping and tearing with its claws and teeth at her scaled head and face. Maura glared at the ebony goliath. Its movements were so fluid, so effortless—a sharp contrast to its three counterparts who lumbered and lunged clumsily. She knew why, and the truth of it turned her stomach. Aleksandra, Valentean, and Seraphina were people who took the form of monsters when it suited them. Kayden was a monster who took the form of a human when it served his purpose.
Breath washed out through her nostrils as she watched the creature that murdered her father and destroyed her home leap off its former mistress’s head. It fired a burst of amethyst energy from its maw that exploded against Aleksandra’s scales and tossed Seraphina to the ground.
“He doesn’t care who he kills,” she grumbled to no one in particular, though Nahzarro was close enough to offer her a nod of his head. No doubt the mage king was reliving his own
thrashing at the hands of this evil thing. It sickened Maura to even entertain the idea that the survival of Terra partly rested on the shoulders of the greatest evil she had ever known. Sure, Aleksandra was a horrid being, but she was fighting for a purpose. She was fighting for her beliefs, for what she thought to be right. Kayden killed because…he could. And that, to Maura, was the ultimate definition of wickedness.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Nahzarro asked, shaking his head as he wiped a fresh rivulet of blood from his temple. “Having to put our faith in…well…”
“You have to believe,” a strong voice said, cutting Maura off before she could respond. Turning, Maura saw an aged warrior approach them, his clothing tattered and bloodstained. His flesh was blotted in purple bruises and oozing lacerations, but Maura remembered this man from the throne room of Kackritta Castle. She recalled the righteous indignation with which he had burst into the sham trial that had occurred moments before the fall of Kackritta.
“Vahn Burai,” Maura said. “You’re Valentean’s father.”
“I’m father to both Valentean and Kayden, young lady.” The warrior had a stoic look of fierce defensiveness etched across his stone-like face. Maura’s cheeks flushed with hot blood as the old man challenged her assertions of Kayden and the atrocities he had committed.
“You’re Vahn Burai?” Nahzarro asked as behind them, the dragons continued their terrible dance of death. Aleksandra continued to swat them away like insects as Valentean, Kayden, and Seraphina leapt at her one by one.
“It has been some time since I’ve seen you, Your Highness,” Vahn said, inclining his head toward Nahzarro. “You were but a child the last time I stood in your father’s throne room. I was…very sorry to hear of his passing. He was a good friend.” Nahzarro nodded grimly at the mention of his honored father. “He loved you dearly. He would have done anything for you.” Vahn turned and fixed Maura in his intense glower once more. “As all fathers would for their children.”
Rosinanti: Rise of the Dragon Lord (Rosinanti Series Book 3) Page 47