Leviathan's King (The Search for the Brights Book 3)

by Aaron Thomas

  Alexander’s voice sounded somber as he said what they were all thinking, “We need something to break up the standoff.”

  As the small group of wizards paced and tried to decide what would be most effective,then they heard a loud clattering. The sound was getting louder and resembled a steel hammer on stone. Sahera watched through her servant's eyes as a metal bull, as tall as a building, clambered through the city streets. As it closed the distance to the bridge, it picked up speed and crushed anything that got in its way. A merchant stand splintered upon meeting one of the hooves.

  She shifted from servant to servant, making a clearing and pushing wizards out of the way of the hulking beast. She watched as the metal bull met the magical wall locking into a running stance and slid with tremendous force, breaking the wood of the bridge spanning the moat. The stone elemental barring the entrance to the castle was struck with the horns of the now unmoving metal bull. The stone of the elemental crumbled and scattered across the stone work inside the castle walls.

  Sahera seized the moment and sent her soldiers to work. They attempted to storm the castle as they were decimated by an onslaught of elemental forces. Wind knocked them from the bridge, water froze and stabbed them, clothes and armor burst into flames as they crossed the water.

  She screamed out in pain as they were struck from every angle. Their pain was now hers to bare, what they would have felt when alive she now felt with every sting of elemental power. Suddenly, there was no more pain. She opened her magic eyes to see Elder Wizards pushing back the elements that were attempting to kill her soldiers. She let out a devious smile as she pushed her troops harder. Those in front took the brunt of the damage, but she transferred the deadly damage to those that had not crossed. She watched as other soulless stood half a mile from the danger, dropping as if they had taken the deadly blows.

  Something shifted on the battlefield, and Sahera watched as Dylan’s earth elemental ran away from the incoming attackers.

  “I have control of the earth,” The bearded wizard said, now standing beside Alexander at the window.

  Alexander clapped his hands, “We’ve got to get you in there. Come on, help me carry Sahera until we can find a cart.”

  The three wizards picked up Sahera as she tried to ignore the jostling and keep her troops moving forward. Her eyes leaked of tears as more and more died to protect her long-time enemies; the Elder Wizards.

  Sahera was quickly placed in a wagon next to two other wizards wielding elementals. They seemed to pay her no attention. The cart's wheels clambering along the cobblestone street did nothing to block out the sounds of battle she heard from thousands of ears.

  Fiery explosions echoed the buildings, townspeople screamed as their city was being evaded by the dreaded Dark Army. Water and ice crashed into walls, floors, and soldiers. A torrent of wind howled as it twisted in on itself, only revealing a fight through the tiny bit of debris as they blew through the sky in an otherwise invisible fight.

  The feeling of the hair standing on end came over some of her soldiers in the large courtyard. Quickly she waved her arms to the surrounding wizards to warn them. It was too late. A flash of light arced through her soldiers and weaved its way to some of the wizards before shattering the stones underfoot. With the amount of magical energy being pushed and pulled, uncontrolled chaos lightning would find its way into battle.

  Her line of soldiers fell, smoking as they absorbed the pain of lightning. Another arc lanced out cleaving the arm off Dylan’s earth elemental. These types of arcs were unpreventable in battle and could tip the favor for either side’s cause. She needed to spread the magic out and force Dylan to split his elemental’s efforts.

  Wizards tried to keep pace as the soulless army ran through any open door, splitting her attacking force into multiple columns. Any door she could find, she forced her men to burst through until she could find her target.

  “Alexander, are you still here?” Sahera asked with her eyes closed.

  The cart slowed just before he spoke, “Right here.”

  “I am searching for Dylan. We must hold off the elementals until I can find him. Then I will lead the way for your wizards,” Sahera said between her efforts of pushing soldiers forward.

  “Do what you must. We’re gaining ground, and are crossing the bridge into the courtyard now,” Alexander said.

  She watched as the wizards battled over the magical territory of the elements they possessed forcing a magical barrier of their own to push forward. Trails of fire caused smoke to fog the battlefield, layers of ice made it difficult to walk, and vines and plants reached out to combat multiple elementals. The chaos of this battle was more devastating than any she had seen. Through it all, Sahera watched a calm old wizard walk across a now tattered bridge into the courtyard of the castle.

  Warick stepped over bodies carefully as not to do any more harm. He stopped but a moment to see one of his wizards pick himself off the ground and pull an ice spike out of his abdomen. The wizard’s life was gone, but Sahera had renewed his body’s will to fight.

  Warick looked into the dead soldier's eyes, “Show me where I am needed.”

  Sahera forced the wizard to nod his head and marched him into the fray of battle. Warick’s elemental bull battled on, now that it was free of Dylan’s earth barrier. Its giant horns were being plunged deep into the castle’s walls as it made its own doorway. The Elder Wizards did their best to blend in with her soldier's forming lines and walked through the empty hallways of Zepher’s castle.

  Finally, she found a hallway she remembered from her life long ago. A large set of double oak doors embolized with the wind symbol stood closed before her soldier. Filling the hall, she turned the other soldiers in that direction. She would do her best to block every exit and overwhelm Dylan with the soulless, backed by her wizard compatriots. When there was no more room to place men in the hallway, and she was sure she had covered every exit, her men attempted to push open the door. Their tremendous force was met with stone and earth.

  Pushing only enough to admit one soldier at a time, she forced the first through as she saw her husband’s body standing before her. The soldier took two steps forward, following her last command as she was dumbstruck with Dylan’s image. His face was a smile and without a worry in the world, just as it had been on their wedding day. In a flash, Sahera saw his face turn to show the wickedness she knew was inside him.

  A blade cleared its scabbard and swung at tremendous speed before she could react fast enough to make her soulless blink. She watched as the blade swung just below the chin. Her vision jumped to another soulless as it pushed through the space in the doorway, watching as her last Soulless’ head rolled off of its shoulders.

  Sahera’s hand reached for her own neck as if she could feel her own head leaving her shoulders. She faltered, and a blade was rammed through the second one's heart. Again, her vision changed and she clutched her chest. Switching her concentration to Warick’s new soulless escort, she put up a hand.

  “I’ve found him. Follow the soldiers,” She said in the gurgling voice of a soulless.

  Dylan’s voice beckoned her back to the doors where her soldiers stood, “I wish to talk with you Sahera, and your wielders as well.”

  Through the crack in the doors, Sahera could see Dylan place the sword back into the scabbard. Without a care, he sauntered back to the throne and sat. He was dressed in fine clothes and had jewelry lining his body. The original throne had been cast aside, replaced by one that seemed to be made of gold and cushioned by silk.

  Dylan’s image was not that of her husband’s. The Dylan she married didn’t covet material items or station. He worked hard to help everyone he crossed and did the most honorable thing in every situation he could, no matter the outcome. Multiple times he’d committed treason to circumvent a single person’s death. She smiled as she sat up in the cart, remembering her husband.

  In one voice, the soulless spoke what she commanded, “Dylan wishes to speak with t
he Elders and awaits their council in the throne room. All fighting will stop.”

  Both Dylan’s elementals and Elder Wizards alike stopped in their attacks but held their magical ground. Some looked around, unsure what to do and then checked their wounds. Sahera tried to hide their movements, but somewhere in the battle, they had forgotten to blend in.

  Dylan’s elementals walked amongst the soldiers, showing no fear as they made their way into the throne room. Some of the Elders stayed back, and some joined Warick as he weaved his way through the crowd. Sahera and her wizard escorts caught up to him as quickly as they could.

  Through the eyes of the soulless, Sahera watched as the throne room changed. Stone seats rose out of the ground. Braziers filled the room with light as the spirit wizards flaming friend ignited them. Each of the spirit-filled elementals made their presence known as they lingered about the room.

  Following a group of ten of the soulless, Sahera entered the room with the Elders behind her. Most took a seat, but Warick did not. The gray-haired wizard stood beside Sahera, crossing his arms in defiance.

  “You wish to plead for your life?” Warick asked.

  Dylan ignored the wizard and sat straighter in his chair, “It has been awhile since I’ve seen you Sahera, or should I call you Echia or Pratay.”

  She smiled, “I would like to speak with Dylan.”

  The body of her husband gave a small chuckle, “Dylan hears you, you know that, but to let him speak would defeat the purpose of what we do here. He does send his sentiments, though.”

  A tear ran down Sahera’s face as she tried to think of a coded message to send her husband, “Our worst fears have come true. Your son is a beacon of hope and has drawn attention.”

  Dylan laughed, “Oh, we know about Kilen. I will see to reuniting him with his father as soon as I do a little cleaning here.”

  “Your time here is done, you are drawing too much attention,” Sahera said.

  The spirit wizard stood at his throne and came to stand in front of Sahera. “Do you even know who you are speaking with? It’s me, Stephen.”

  Sahera tried to be like steel. Stephen was one of Dylan’s best friends. Sahera had killed him to take his body and freed his spirit for Dylan to take. Trapped inside of Dylan’s body, always seeking freedom, Stephen had become a dark and jealous being.

  When she gave no reaction, Stephen continued, “I thought you would like how I gave this kingdom peace. Laws are kept, crops flourish, and for the first time, generations of people live in peace.”

  “Your collecting too many souls and the Dark Master will see you like a burning ship on a calm sea,” Sahera said in warning.

  Stephen laughed, “I do not fear your Dark Master. Although, I will have to kill a lot of people so he cannot build another army here. It will at least make an attack more difficult.”

  “That is exactly the point, Stephen,” Sahera said. “Either way, the entirety of the elemental realms will die. Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t want to do that. I even tried to recruit you,” Stephen replied with a smile.

  “Recruit me? When?” Sahera asked.

  Warick and some of the Elders looked back and forth in what she thought was frustration by being left out of the conversation.

  “I told you already, I made peace in this kingdom. No one carries swords in Zepher. No one attacks anyone, and so no one has a reason to defend themselves. All you had to do was come to me and renew your bloodlust. If you had done that, we would be together to fight your Dark Master. It’s too bad you had to go and side with these Elder Wizards,” Stephen said before taking a long drink from a cup.

  Warick stepped forward, “We would have ended her long before she reached Zepher.”

  “I’m not talking to you, Warick,” Stephen said without looking at the graying wizard. “I laid it all out for you. We could have been happy again.”

  “I never wanted to go back there, and you knew it. So you try anyway? To tempt me to gather an army so I will thirst for more blood just to join you?” Sahera said letting her fury touch her voice. “You have killed thousands of innocent people!”

  Stephen laughed using her husband's voice, “Oh, I know how many I’ve killed. I hear them all screaming inside of his skull.”

  The spirit wizard’s cool demeanor changed in an instant at the reminder of the deaths he had caused. He crossed the room to within ten feet of Sahera.

  “Let me remind you of the deaths that you have caused. You strip them of their souls and use them for your bidding. You left thousands of spirits in your husband’s body just to be tormented by your presence, waking to the sight of you every morning. I should know, Echia, I was one of them. I am one of them! If you don't join me against this master of yours then I won’t leave you as a reminder of my death,” Stephen screamed.

  Sahera barely saw the man cross the distance as pain burst in her chest. He turned to walk away as she looked down at a ruby-hilted dagger sticking out of her chest. The warmth of her blood cascaded down her shirt as she felt the tip of the blade embedded deep inside of her. The tip piercing her heart as it failed to pump blood through her veins.

  She pushed through the pain long enough to whisper, “Run.”

  As she fell to her knees, unsure whether or not the Elders had heard, she saw the battle renew around her. Magic was flung in all directions as mammoth elementals crashed through walls and wrestled one another around her. She tried to pull the blade free, but the part that stuck out of her chest was barbed, making it impossible for her to pull free in her now weakened state. She reached out mentally, trying to push her soulless army forward in an attempt to kill her husband.

  **********

  The sight of her soldiers faded just before her own vision failed. She felt a cold that she hadn’t felt in decades since leaving the frigid dungeon chambers of her Dark Master. She was dying. Again.

  The darkness surrounded her, and for once she felt no regret. She felt only peace as her bodiless form floated in emptiness. She was happy and could only be happier if she had her husband and children there with her.

  **********

  Pain renewed where it had been before as Stephen used Dylan’s body to pull the barbed blade out of her chest. She felt her cold blood flow over her skin as the wound tried to stitch itself closed. Hundreds of her soulless were dying for the second time so she could live. She felt their bodies open to the wound she had endured, taking it upon themselves.

  Her vision straightened and cleared as the wound stopped bleeding and healed over with fresh, tight, pink skin. She was being carried to the now broken jeweled throne. Her death seemed to happen only moments ago, but with the battle over she knew she was gone longer. Sahera knew better; even if you were dead only a moment, time shifted. Looking into a gaping hole in the ceiling, she noticed the sun was setting in orange and purples. She had lain with a dagger in her chest all day, and if Stephen had woken her, that meant they had lost the battle.

  Sahera looked around as best she could at the room. Two large elementals held her aloft so she could see the hundreds of bodies that littered the throne room. Feeling out with her magic, she commanded her remaining troops to stand. With a few thousand still left at her command, she used their vision to survey the battlefield.

  The Elder Wizards had fought hard leaving the castle and surround grounds look to be like an ancient ruins. Warick’s metal bull lay half melted against shattered stones and rubble. Warick did not fair any better, his limp body lay beside Alexander’s inside the room’s pieces. The wizards dead bodies were burnt, twisted, and broken amongst the scattered remains of furniture. The great hall itself looked as though it may finish collapsing at any moment from the damage they did in the fight.

  Stephen must have noticed her looking, “Yes, Alexander put up a great fight. It’s too bad his talents were wasted when he could have been used to fight against your Dark Master. Their deaths are on your head, Echia.”

  Sahera slowly turned her head t
owards the man wearing her husband’s face. His fine clothes were slashed and burnt. The sheath on his hip was empty of its sword. She watched as he wiped her blood from the dagger he had plunged into her chest. They had come close to killing the man, but with a spirit wizard, close was not good enough.

  “I chose this life long ago, and you forced me to do this. I want to speak with Dylan,” She demanded.

  Stephen turned his head to expose his ear while leaned forward as he grinned, “He’s listening. I would never deny him your voice, or rather deny myself hearing him scream.”

  Sahera said nothing. She gritted her teeth trying to find the words that would tell Dylan to fight. She wanted to tell him that Kilen was a spirit wizard as well. If she could only relay the information she knew without Stephen hearing, Dylan would find a way to take control again.

  “Nothing?” Stephen teased. “That’s perfectly fine, he’s been screaming since the dagger found your heart.”

  “Why do you torture him?” Sahera cried.

  “He’s not the only one I have to torture,” Stephen maintained his smile as he leaned back into his chair. “I still need your help to defeat the Dark Master. I mean sure, I am very powerful, but even I grow weak at times.”

  “I’ll never help you,” Sahera growled.

  Stephen gave a chuckle, “You don’t really have a choice. To defeat your master, I will need an army. Only a soulless army can stand against another soulless army, so that's where you come in. Over the next few months, I will gather people here and slowly kill them with you. Eventually, your bloodlust will take over, and I will have you at my side.”

  Dylan’s body got off the throne and grabbed Sahera by the chin, hard, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “Soon you won’t want anything but more blood, soldiers, and death. You won't even recognize your son when you slit his throat,” Stephen said in a cruel whisper.