Enigma: Awakening

by Damien Taylor

  “A little trick from your fox,” she said, gripping the rusted chains that hung from the wall. She swung her heel into the eyes of one of the guards, cracking his visor. She bolted toward the startled guard, clenching his neck before shoving him against the wall and coiling the chain around his throat, forcing him to sip his breaths upon his tiptoes. She sighed. “Men never learn.”

  Sergio and I watched from the vent. We rejoined her once she had successfully subdued the troublesome soldiers. One wheezed, his face flushed and strained. The other clenched his eyes as he tossed and rolled upon the floor. “Not bad,” said Sergio.

  “They were typical... Men.”

  “Please, please, don’t kill me,” begged the guard hemmed by chains. I seized the other by his filthy collar.

  “What should we do?” Irvina questioned.

  I took a moment to think. Sergio snapped his fingers. “I got it. Hey, Winn, their suits could fit us, couldn’t they?” I grimaced at the idea. Their clothes reeked of sweat and whatever foul booze they had consumed. And I was sure the chained one had pissed his pants more than a bit. But for Nova, it was but a small sacrifice. It took a moment, but I complied.

  “A fine plan, genius. But you forgot about Irvina.”

  “Come on now, use your noggin.” Sergio pulled metal cuffs from the back pocket of one of the guards and dangled them in my face. “We’ll take her prisoner. We’ll say she’s been practicing witchcraft and that she’s to be kept in the same tower as Nova. Just like that, we’ll bust Nova right outta’ there.” I was about to say something when Sergio cut me off. “—Don’t start with your usual pessimism, Winn, if that’s what you’re about to do.” I shrank and shrugged.

  “It’s worth a try, I suppose,” I said and began stripping the shorter, stout guard of his armor. The faded uniform was too large, but it had to do for now. We soon dressed and were ready to move. Irvina collected her chakram stuck in the ground at either corner of the cell. “Wait,” I said. “What if the guards approach us? I doubt they’ll believe she’s a witch if there’s no evidence of it. We bear no official documents. Better to assume they’re smarter than they probably are.”

  Irvina held out her hands, fingers splayed.

  “Then I will make evidence.” From her palms rose a fog that rippled as if it blew in the wind, soon turning to ice that affixed the hanging guard to the wall. She did the same to the nuisance laying on the floor, leaving free only their heads so that they could not die due to their unfortunate encounter. “Problem solved.”

  “Good,” said Sergio. “Now we’re gonna have to confiscate those.” He gestured at her chakram. She hissed and handed them over. “Good. Now I’m going to put the shackles on, all right?” She hissed louder at her arrest.

  Sergio whistled to the first duo of guards we spotted as we roamed the dungeon.

  “How may I assist you, Arkadian?” spoke a long auburn-haired guard.

  Sergio cleared his throat and disguised his usual tone. “We’ve received order to relocate this young woman to a different tower. Lord Sergei has branded this one a witch—destroyed three villages in northern Memoria with her magic. We have proof.” We led the guards to their fellow soldiers whose faces had blued, their jaws too frozen to move. They could only moan, hoping their counterparts would investigate further. But at first glance into Irvina’s eyes, the frost grew colder and fear silenced them.

  The guards beside us flinched at the display. “She did this?” one of them asked. I cranked Irvina’s shackles with a tight grip. I would apologize later.

  “I’m afraid so. We’re to take her to the Eastern Tower—as far from the other prisoners as possible. Those are our orders,” said Sergio.

  “We were briefed that not a soul is allowed in that area unless specifically tasked by the general himself.”

  “She wasn’t deemed an eminent threat until earlier this morning,” Sergio explained.

  “She’s been moved twice before coming here. Her powers are great. Who’s to say she would not have succeeded in escaping had she not come across us?”

  “Right. The only reason we’re not icicles right now is because of these, er, magic-suppressing shackles,” said Sergio.

  “Should I lose them it’s good riddance for everyone down here,” I warned. “They were meant as a precaution for the Lucrein girl... until we got word of this one.”

  They contemplated and fidgeted nervously. “Take her,” they decided. “Do what you must. It has nothing to do with either of the two of us.”

  “You’ve saved us all,” said Sergio. He was about to ask something else when one of the guards spoke beforehand.

  “Take the shortcut to the surface, just that way.” They pointed. Satisfied grumbles told me that they’d answered whatever he had planned to inquire of them.

  “Warn the rest of the soldiers down here, but do so discretely. And tell them not to follow. It would place them in great danger. Us guards have to look out for each other’s boots,” Sergio said, inventing a brainless idiom as if we’d stick around long enough to earn their trust.

  The guards obliged and went quickly on their way.

  Sergio chuckled.

  “Really? ‘Magic-suppressing shackles?’” I grumbled.

  “Guess these brainless tin-heads will believe anything you tell them,” he sneered.

  “I suppose. It worked. Still can’t fathom why you’d change the tone of your voice, though. It’s not like they know you.”

  “Heh, heh... I thought it'd be funny.”

  We moved across the dungeon halls casually. The air was thick and distasteful. Prison talk echoed in the atmosphere. The halls seemed endless. Many guards passed us, paying us no mind. We came to a lift that took us up to the intricate design of the keep. A bridge led us outside where the noon sun undulated over the working city. Inner Ortiz was massive. There were more guards than anyone. The poorly hung weapons, bedraggled attires and abusive barking distinguished the despicable Shadow Legion. Their untidy ensemble served their true combat prowess no justice. They were far more dangerous than the local Arkhadian guards.

  “Look,” Irvina nudged. Far to the east, we caught sight of the isolated tower where Nova was kept. Sergio confirmed it. It loomed over the city’s layout. Across the bridge ahead was a vacant turret with an encircling staircase that wound to the ground. The front courtyard of the keep was filled with guards and inbound prisoners whose shackles jangled as they shuffled about. We passed them subtly and continued eastward. The more Sergio and I moved along in the ridiculous uniforms, the more we stunk. From the look on Irvina’s pink, bulging face, she had been holding her breath for quite some time.

  Close to the dungeon, there was a massive crowd shouting at an execution stage. On it stood soldiers at attention. Sergio stopped suddenly. “Sick,” he barked. Women, men, and children stood with nooses around their necks and their hands bound. “They’re going to execute them in front of all these people? Is this Sergei’s doing?”

  I groaned. “Sergio, keep moving,” I urged. Then I felt something tugging on my trousers.

  “Psst, psst. Down here.” It was a short boy crawling on his hands and knees, hiding his face.

  “Sphinx?” He lifted his head.

  “I discovered a few tidbits of information,” he said urgently. “That girl—your sister—they’re taking her from Ortiz today. I don’t know where, why, or when, but you folks had better hurry. Several more soldiers guard the tower than we first mentioned. The password is: ‘was made nameless’, whatever that means. Oh, and they know you’re coming for her. They’ll be looking for anyone that seems out of place.”

  I turned about and looked around. A gang of Legionnaires reached out into the crowds, searching methodically. “Sphinx, how did you get—”

  “Sorry. Can’t stay. We've spotted something massive in the sky, headed for Ortiz. We’re hightailing it out of here. I’ve gotta’ run. And nice suits. You look just like Arkhadian scum. Smell like ‘em too!”

  H
ow did he know who we were? Town rats...

  He disappeared into the crowd. We kept on for miles toward the tower. Just as Sphinx had informed us, many soldiers stood with swords in hand, patrolling the area. Our uniforms kept us unquestioned in our approach to the pair of guards at the tower’s entrance.

  “What business have you here?” said a soldier sternly as we came before them.

  “We’re to transport this prisoner... under Lord Sergei’s orders,” Sergio began.

  They laughed as if they knew something we didn't. "Sorry, soldiers. We must’ve been asleep when that order came.”

  Sergio brought his hand to his chin, ran his eyes up the height of the tower, and spoke. “I see. And you know nothing of a prisoner?” he questioned. They looked upon Irvina whose head hung low and sneered. “Many prisoners come and go—”

  “Ah, yes. Don’t I know it. But, you see, this one... unlike the others... was made nameless.”

  As Sergio turned his back to them, a soldier cleared his throat. They began to perspire. “Nameless... you said?”

  “Nameless.”

  The men shuddered and looked at each another. “This way.”

  The inside was black. I released Irvina, and we assailed the unsuspecting pair, subduing them. It was a long stride up the staircase with a whirling spectacle over the banister. The hair on my arms rose as we approached the top, anxiety setting in. The door was tall and shadowy. Sergio kicked it flying from its hinges. There was naught, but a flicker of light shone through the slit window.

  The thumping footfalls of sandals beat toward us when we entered. The shadow of an object in motion cut across the room. A loosed brick hurtled for Sergio’s head. He ducked in time, and it soared out of the chamber, plunging down the tower shaft.

  Nova bolted for the exit, but Sergio caught her by the arms. She fought him. “Nova, Nova, it’s all right, kiddo’.” She calmed and looked at him as he removed the Arkhadian helm, and then to me as I did the same, and then Irvina. Her eyes widened with surprise. She began to tremble, tears welling, and then she lanced into my arms, knocking me back.

  “I’ll always find you.”

  “Don’t worry, kid, you’re safe,” said Sergio.

  Irvina jerked and lifted an ear. “They’re coming,” she muttered as she moved toward the door. For a moment there was no sound, and then sudden quickening footsteps and shouting echoed up the tower. Arkhadians. We gazed at one another and nodded, agreeing that we were in for a fight. Sergio tossed his armor and snatched the top of the Arkhadian uniform overhead.

  “Won’t be needing these anymore.” He exhaled. “Ugh, that’s loads better.”

  I stripped and doffed the smelly disguise as well. The guards were approaching. “Let’s get ’em,” Sergio blared as he pounded a fist and started out first. Irvina went after, then Nova, and then me.

  A quarter of the way down, we met our enemies. Green light flashed, engulfing Sergio, and he became a black bull stampeding from the front. The guards halted, shuffling over one another, struggling to draw their weapons. Sergio snorted and rammed them over the railing. Arkhadians flew everywhere. Not one soldier made it past his goring horns. At the bottom of the stairs, he became himself again.

  A dark armored and hooded man stood between us and the exit. The blade Rahginor came in my hand instantly before I knew I would need it. We kept running. He stepped aside. Impulsively, as I passed him, I swung at him. He leaned away from the blade and watched as we fled. We made it out of the tower but slid into to a grinding halt before a fleet of Arkhadians and the Legion. We circled Nova, facing our adversaries.

  A Legion disciple dragged an elder man forward on the ground, his royal robe tearing against the concrete. King Akhadius.

  “Are you mad?” He sprang with rage as a tall crown of gold toppled from his stubbly scalp. The hooded man strode from the tower and descended its staircase into the court.

  “Forgive me, Akhadius. Where are my manners? Consider yourself informed. From this point forward, the Shadow Legion will take care of all affairs. You’ve been relieved of duty,” he spoke. The king’s eyes grew with trepidation, and a long moment passed before he struggled to bring his old bones upright.

  He tugged at his collar and then said with a hardening voice, “I will not be treated as some frail mongrel to be tossed about. You’ll have to kill me now.”

  “Pathetic, aren’t you? That’s just what I plan to do. I’ll give you a fair count to run as far and as fast as you can.” The king paled at the words, and he shook. “The plan for Ortiz has changed. The Inevitable, have passed new judgment over this place. Burn it. All of it,” the hooded one said to gathered soldiers.

  The king plunged to his knees. “No, I beg of you, please. Do what you will with me, but spare my people.”

  “You should be grateful I’ve allowed you to keep your life a little longer. Leave me before my kindness is undone.”

  The king crept back as a doe would from a lion. Forsaking all valor and dignity, he retreated through the crowded soldiers like a timid child. “Run! They will kill us all!” he blared across Ortiz to all that he could reach.

  “This city is to be destroyed—leave nothing standing,” the man commanded them. The Legion drew their swords promptly, but the Arkhadian men were reluctant, unsure if they were willing to betray their families and the vows of honor they once pledged. The outnumbering Legion brought forth swift condemnation for all unwilling to follow orders. Soon the screams echoed, women and children the loudest amongst them.

  Ortiz was ablaze elsewhere in the distance. From there was the onset of the wild rioting. Arkhadians scrambled for their lives, trampling, and tumbling over those that had already fallen.

  The three of us stood firm, protecting Nova. Sergio and Irvina looked to me for the next move, for a command. The hooded one drew closer and spoke. “So, you’re the one whose power has been resonating on the heartland?” he said to me.

  I winced and gazed into the blackness of his face. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Blitzkrieg.”

  Sergio spat a humph and growled. “What’s the meaning of all this? This is low—even for your band of Shadow Legion outlaws.”

  “Sergio Makull, of Londale. You’re a Fox of that worthless Militia as well. Tell me, how does it feel being a pawn to another pawn? Not much of a fulfilling purpose I'd wager.” Sergio gnashed his teeth as hard as he could. His hands turned to fists. The Emerald activated. Something heavy swelled in the pit of my stomach, like something either had or was about to go horribly wrong. The Amethyst twinkled.

  “Sergio, no,” I calmed him. “I need you and Irvina to get Nova safe. Get as many people away from the city as you can. I’ll handle Blitzkrieg.”

  Sergio hissed, but did as I asked. They scurried off, leaving me alone to face Blitzkrieg amid the booming fray. “You’ve done well, Darwin, surviving this long against my Abyssians. But then again, I knew you wouldn’t fail me. And then again, I did say that it would be by our blades that we would die. Coincidence—such a sinister concept.”

  The heaviness in my core erupted. Angst crawled over my skin. Blitzkrieg rolled back his hood, revealing someone I hadn’t expected—someone that had haunted my dreams. The blond-haired, Cassidy Novalez, looked sickly pale, and shadows bordered his eyes. His ghastly visage petrified me.

  It was a mouth-dropping confirmation for my terrible premonition. I was speechless.

  “Thought I’d died, did you not?”

  I shook. “Cassidy... I—”

  “I am Blitzkrieg now. Cassidy’s soul is long gone.” He drew his swords—one from his left side and the other from his back. “Mura and Masa,” he said, lifting each one as he called their names. “You remember?”

  I raised Rahginor. I was still in shock. “Why?”

  Blitzkrieg didn’t answer the question. “Are you ready? This isn’t training anymore.” There was a pause. We stared at one another unblinkingly. One of his eyes was gray-blue, and the other was pearly
obsidian. He half smiled and then darted toward me at breakneck speed. I raised Rahginor just in time. In a flash, our blades locked—Rahginor against Masa—Blitzkrieg’s longer, full-length, whip-thin sword. “You missed the annihilation of your home, Lucreris. I watched from the shadows as you battled Roth. The first invasion failed on your account, but the second was simple enough.” A flashback came to me of when I was at Lucreris on that fiery night. I remembered.

  It was Blitzkrieg’s silhouette that stood upon that building beyond the raging flames of the city. But why, why would the Shadow Legion resort to killing? They weren’t the most moral men, but murdering thousands of innocent people was sickening.

  “So, you lead the Orbed Ones now.” Blitzkrieg’s voice instantly carried me into a state of fury and bewilderment. The Amethyst came alive, radiating. How does he know about the Orbed Ones? What happened to him? I growled.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do when this is over, Cassidy.”

  He laughed. “One of us will be dead, remember.”

  I parried and swung. Blitzkrieg ducked and advanced. His movements were rigid, yet smooth and calculated—a fighting style that I had been long accustomed to. I swung Rahginor low as I advanced, dragging it with a spark against the ground and then downward like fierce lightning. Blitzkrieg caught the blade in his crossed swords, and then released us, and our exchange continued. He fought with one sword at a time, swiftly alternating between Masa and Mura with adept elegance. With each strike, he unsheathed a sword, struck where he needed, and returned it back into its sheath before unleashing the other again. The unorthodox style made it difficult to strike him. His defense was flawless. But what had been even more intimidating was that his offense was just as terrifying.

  The battle’s pace quickened as our weapons clanged across the open space around the tower. “The orb makes you stronger,” said Blitzkrieg. But his strength had also been unreal.

  “Why are you doing this, Cassidy? What happened that made you forget your honor?”

  “Honor? The world knows nothing about such a thing. I was once so clueless. For Vail, there’s only the curse of destruction. The Ruling Races are marked for it. Vail will become the new vessel for Abyssians soon—if not this time, then the next. It is fate.”