by Matthew Wolf
Darius stepped back, his normally cocky expression twisted into one of pain and confusion.
Gray focused on the task at hand, knowing he would need it all and more. He heard Darius’ footsteps, moving into the woods and away from him. He narrowed his focus on the Gate ahead. It sat shoulder to shoulder with the giant Burai Mountains. He looked to the White Plains below the Gate that were now blackened by the taint. With a deep breath, he summoned the nexus.
His power came, flowing through him. Like each time before, it filled him with life. Gray pulled even more into himself until he was filled to the point of pain. His gaze fell to the cavernous drop. Closing his eyes, he imagined the fall in the woods.
A dark green canopy raced towards him, as far as the eye could see… the wind lashed him as he plummeted… the rush of air sounded in his ears… terror flowed in his veins… The chaotic vision was halted and broken, but he held onto it, searching deeper. The wind howled as his eyes watered, vision fading, turning black… but he pushed beyond. In his mind he heard a quiet murmuring, a stirring in his veins as an ancient power was awoken. Then he saw it, the spell he had created, woven like a mesh of golden cords.
He pulled each thread, as if extracting the movements from a dream, and where he forgot, he filled in the gap with what the wind insinuated. The wind wove thicker and thicker strands, overlapping one another, but he made them loose, pliable. He wove those threads like a coat of armor, surrounding himself in a cocoon of wind that was alive. Placing his feet to the cliff’s edge he closed his eyes with a breath and fell forward.
Through the lashing of the wind, a voice sounded, “Gray, don’t!”
He twisted. Darius ran towards him. Surprise lanced through him. The nexus shattered. The wind that coursed around him vanished in a rush. With every fiber in his body, he lunged for the cliff’s edge when Darius smashed into him.
The roar of the wind raged in his ears and his eyes watered, blinding his sight. His cloak filled his vision and he threw it aside. Darius clawed at him and they tumbled end over end. He tried to restrain the rogue’s thrashing limbs, only to spin and lose contact. Colors blurred in a dizzying haze. More thoughts materialized, frenzied and incoherent, until he could barely think. Darkness began to creep, taking over his vision. No! His eyes fanned wide. The thought was like a lance, shrill but fleeting, and he plunged back into the dark abyss of his mind, searching frantically for the nexus. Below, the ground was spiraling closer. Something gripped him, choking him. It was Darius. Terror filled the rogue’s wide eyes. But he didn’t try to fight him. Instead, he shut his eyes, loosing a single breath.
Silence.
It was only a flicker, but he let it fill him. In that moment the nexus flickered. Gray gripped it like a drowning man who gasped for air. Suddenly, all the flows that he had conjured moments before came back in a rush that made his body jerk. Through his closed eyes he saw the ground, approaching too quickly. They were almost there. He wove the spell faster. Threads like spindly roots wove around them. He opened his eyes. A hairsbreadth from the ground, they were surrounded by a flame of wind. In his mind, he plied the spell, letting it take its course. Thick threads twisted and twined. Gently, the cradle of air lowered them the rest of the way, setting them down like a feather.
White mist fell. Snow, his mind registered. Around them, the snow had been blown back. Darius knelt, eyes still tightly clenched. Gray touched his shoulder.
“What just happened?” he whispered, looking as if he expected to be dead. How are we alive?”
Gray eyed his trembling hands. He was sapped of energy. Darius cursed and Gray turned. A tide of darkness sat before them. Huge vergs and lanky saeroks roiled. The dark army. What he thought was the taint of darkness from up high on the cliff’s edge was in fact the dark army itself. A stone’s throw away, a wave of grunts and snarls fouled the cold air as the army faced the other direction.
Gray panicked. He grabbed Darius, throwing a hand over the rogue’s mouth and crouched. No creatures had noticed them yet. He eyed their surroundings for a place to hide, when suddenly a nightmare misted out of thin air, materializing behind the armies. A Nameless.
“Move, you worthlesss sacks of meat!” It shouted as it strode up and down the lines, taller than Gray remembered. Its black armor, overlapping plates of sinuous metal, undulated like snake scales. It roared and lashed the beasts with a dark whip. The dark army pressed forward.
Another Nameless materialized. It was even taller than its brother. “Onward you filth! The Kagehass will have your hidesss! Into the Gate!” it bellowed, urging the dark mass forward. Like a surging tide, the throng grunted and snarled.
In the distance, over the heads of the army Gray saw their destination. The huge stone face of the Gate now seemed impossibly far. Suddenly, a slim fissure ran down their center and a strange crimson light spread. Dread filled Gray’s heart. The Gate has been breached.
Gray rose, searching for a place to hide when cold steel touched his skin above the collar. “Darius,” he whispered thinly. The dagger pressed deeper and he choked, stifling his breath. Darius turned and his eyes flared. The rogue’s hand shot for the hidden dagger in his clothes.
“I wouldn’t do that,” his assailant replied in a hard voice.
Gray didn’t dare to look around. “Who are you?”
“Silence!” the man commanded in a low hiss. “I would not speak again, unless you wish to die. It is said a saerok can hear a mouse’s scurry.” Gray struggled against his grip. “Now I’m going to let you go. Don’t make a sound or I will regret my decision,” he said in a menacing whisper, then pushed him away.
He looked up, rubbing his neck and taking in his attacker. The man wore a ragged gray cloak. Its heavy hood was pushed far forward to hide his face. Other than that he was tall and wore the nondescript clothes of a wanderer. But his voice and demeanor was all too familiar.
“Kail,” he whispered.
The man drew back his hood, revealing bright scarlet eyes. Kail’s strong jaw was dappled with unshaven growth, peppered black and gray, while his long gray braid hung down, nearly reaching his shoulder. At Gray’s side, Darius’ jaw dropped. The rogue gained his senses and lunged for his weapon. But Gray was quicker. He grabbed the rogue’s wrist.
“Gray, what are you doing? Dice, that’s Kail!” Darius voice was full of panic.
“He won’t hurt us,” he replied. Then he looked to Kail who gave a wolf-like smile. “What do you want with us?”
“I see you decided not to part from your friends,” the Ronin said.
“I tried, but I realize now that I’m not like you. I’m not alone.”
“Perhaps not. But they will die, and you will pay the price,” the legend shrugged. “Nevertheless, that is not why I am here. In light of your precious friendship, I’ve come to deliver a message.”
“What message?” Darius asked warily.
“Your friend is in danger.”
“Ayva. Where is she?” Gray asked, striding forward.
“She is being held captive upon the gates. The Kage are coming for her. They know that you possess the blade and they will use her to get to you.”
“What do we do?” Darius asked.
Gray looked to the legend. “Take us to her. Take us to Ayva,” he told the Ronin.
“So be it,” Kail said with a crazed grin and the Ronin closed his eyes. He raised his hands and coils of air swirled upon the ground. They grew, surrounding them like a blanket of snow. The wind raged and the beasts turned with a roar. Gray saw saeroks and vergs racing towards them—but still the wind grew until it was a thick maelstrom of white, encasing them. Gray was suddenly weightless, his limbs frozen. The last sound he heard was Kail’s maniacal laughter, rising above the wind.
Blue Skies
THE DRAGON FLEW AWAY, JOINING THE others that circled like carrion birds waiting for the kill.
Ayva tried to slow her frantic breaths. Beneath her was a shelf of stone, not much bigger than a narrow plank.
On hands and knees, she crawled to the edge. Her fingers gripped the lip of stone. She peered over. Fathoms fell beneath her, a dizzying abyss that made her head swim. The plains below were a roiling sea of black that obscured the White Plains.
“The enemy,” she whispered.
Suddenly, the ground beneath her lurched. She pressed her back to the gate as the world beneath her rumbled. Her toes reached the edge and her nails scraped on the stone as she waited for the shaking to end. Finally, it did and Ayva opened her eyes. She saw a different part of the Burai Mountains, and the plains below had shifted. The Gates had moved. They are opening, she realized with rising dread. Hardening herself, she continued to search, trying not to think about the drop. She noticed a dark metal door behind her, but saw no handle. She searched for anything she could put her hands on. There was nothing.
She cried for help, but there was no answer, only the sound of wind. In the distance, she saw more ledges, but there was no way to reach them. Even if I could, where would I go?
Ayva slid down against the wall and held her knees with both arms. She thought of Gray and Darius. She imagined the two still far from Death’s Gate. “At least they are safe,” she whispered, cradling her head in the haven of her arms as the wind picked up and the cries of dragons assailed her. To her left, she saw the black door budge. At first she thought it was her imagination, but the door slowly opened outwards.
Her heart hammered in her chest. A head poked out from behind the black door and she saw a flame of white hair and a cloak with a symbol of a leaf. “Maris!” she cried, rising to her feet. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
He turned and a darkness grasped Ayva’s heart, stealing her breath and all hope with it. Pitiless eyes of frozen blue fixed her. Patches of flesh were missing from its pale, corpse-like skin and writhing maggots crawled inside those dark holes. It was a face of nightmares.
“Kage,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
The nightmare lunged, grabbing her throat. She gasped, and gripped its sinewy hand as it pulled her higher until she dangled a foot from the ground and she choked, trying to draw a sip of air. Boney fingers constricted and her eyes welled with tears. The false Maris twisted its head, soulless blue eyes stared into hers. The creature’s lips peeled and rows of sharp fangs flashed. “Where is the boy?”
Gate’s Edge
GRAY WAS LOST IN A SEA of white.
Abruptly, the shroud fell. His vision returned as his feet touched solid ground. Volleys of air and screams rained in from all sides. He looked down. Several leagues below them, the dark army writhed like an ocean of black. Beneath his feet, he saw he stood upon a small ledge of stone protruding from the Gate’s face.
As the whirlwind fell, Darius flung himself to the wall. “Dicing, dice, dice!” the rogue cursed eyes fixed to the endless fall.
Gray knelt beside his friend. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Darius’ hair danced wildly and he laughed nervously, “I’m not one for heights,” he said, “I’ll be fine.” Gray gripped his shoulder as he looked behind the rogue and saw a tall black door.
“Embrace the nexus and let go, Gray,” Kail shouted, his voice carried over the wind like a blade slicing through water. Gray turned and saw the Ronin. The legend stood at the very lip of the stone shelf, unaffected by the raging wind.
Darius shook his head, “Don’t trust him,” he whispered and gripped the wall even tighter. Gray gave him a reassuring look and let Darius go. He took a deep breath and pictured the nexus, letting the wind fill him. The raging zephyrs buffeted him, and now he felt them, down to their infinitesimal particles. With his eyes closed, the Ronin’s frame glowed golden, as if the wind around the legend was alive. Gray tried to match the threads and abruptly the wind shifted, sifting through his frame as if he were insubstantial.
He opened his eyes and teetered. His feet now scraped the edge. Gray’s heart hammered, the heady sensation rushing through him—he was one with the wind. Still, the feeling was diluted by the terrifying shrieks of dragons.
“What in the seven hells of Remwar are we doing out here?” Darius shouted. “Why did you take us here, Ronin?”
Kail was silent, his gray cloak with its dual swords whipped in the wind.
Gray spoke, his voice also matching the wind’s currents, “You know how to stop the Kage, don’t you? You may not care who lives or dies, but I still do.”
Kail turned his back and suddenly his shoulders began to shake. Gray realized he was laughing. The Ronin’s cackles rose over the lashing wind. He’s truly mad… The stories were true.
“Why are you laughing?” Darius raged from upon the ledge. “People are dying!”
Kail disappeared and reappeared in a flash of white, gripping the rogue’s tunic. “You don’t get it! It’s always a matter of life or death! And it doesn’t matter what you do, it always ends up the same.” His hard eyes glazed. “I can try to save them, but each time they die again.” Darius swallowed, and Kail’s grip loosened as he turned away.
Gray’s ire rose and he grabbed the Ronin. “It’s too late for those you loved, but there’s still good in you. I see it! Please, help me save them.” He saw a gamut of emotions flash in Kail’s features.
In a soft whisper, the man spoke, “I remember a time of green… When all was lush and full of life… Times before the land was stained… Before it was red and littered with bodies… Before the world was torn asunder.”
He realized Kail was singing, and he shouted over the wind, shaking him. “Tell me!”
“It’s no use, Gray! He’s gone!” Darius said. “We should leave!”
But he ignored the rogue as he searched for sanity in the man’s eyes. At last a faint light shone out from the dark abyss and the man spoke, “There is only one way to stop the Kage.”
“How?” he pleaded.
“You must embrace the sword and conquer the blade’s soul with the light.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darius said, “Gray, this is a waste of time.”
“Be silent!” Kail hissed, “Every word you say puts your friends lives closer to the grave.” Darius shut his mouth. The Ronin signaled to the black door behind them. “That door will take you to the halls. From there, find your way to the chambers. There you must use the sword, but listen closely for you must only change the sword in dawn’s light—if not, it may cast a fate worse than death for us all.”
“The dawn’s light?” he questioned.
“I cannot answer that. You must figure that out for yourself.”
Though not fully understanding, he nodded and turned to Darius. The rogue still gripped the wall. He tried to rise, but the buffeting wind took his cloak. “I’ll come with you,” Darius called.
“No,” he shouted, “We can’t forget about Ayva. She needs you.”
Kail strode forward, “The rogue and I will save the girl. You must get to the chambers and save the others. Besides, the Kage are after the sword, they are expecting you. It would be safer for him and I to go alone.” Darius’ brows bunched in uncertainty.
“Can I trust you?” Gray asked.
“I swear upon the soul of Morrowil we will save your friend,” the traitor replied. Gray knew that oath was more binding than his life or any other. “Go now, Gray, or see your world fall to ruin.” Just as mine was, he knew, reading the man’s sorrowful eyes.
Darius stood unsteadily. “Are you sure about this?”
He gripped his friend’s forearm. “Save Ayva.”
Darius shook him off and smiled. “Do me a favor. Don’t play the fool hero and get yourself killed, all right?”
“I’ll try,” he said, and turned to Kail.
The Ronin smirked, “May the winds be with you, Gray. Go now.”
With that, he touched the nexus and moved towards the door. He let the wind seep inside the door’s frame. There was a handle on the other side. He pulled the threads of wind down and the heavy knob twisted. The door swung open and Gray stepped
inside, silencing the howling wind and awful cries.
* * *
The door slammed behind Gray. He now stood in an empty stone hall. To his left and right, narrow archer’s slits ran along the long corridor. The slits looked out over the armies below. Even in here, he could hear the muted cries of the dark army.
Kail’s words swirled in his mind.
Get to the chambers. To stop the Kage, you must embrace the sword, conquering the blade’s soul with the light of dawn. Gray unsheathed his blade and gripped it tightly. He didn’t know what embracing the sword meant; but he needed to get to the center of the chambers—that much was certain. Ahead, the corridor continued without end. He looked behind. He saw the same endless hallway lit by moonlight. One is as good as another, he thought and began to trot, running through the hall ahead with sword in hand.
As he flew down the hall, he came upon a fork. Ahead was a maze of stone corridors. Rows of burning torches mounted in iron brackets stretched into the distance. His mind raced, eyeing the fork. The chambers must be deeper, but the hallways were a maze. What if I lose my way? The gates seem endless, taking a random path is a fool’s odds. Still, he had no choice. In the end, he had to try.
Shrugging aside his doubts, he took to the fork, heading straight. As he ran, images of the imagined chaos beneath him flashed through his mind. He blocked the images and ran even quicker, legs burning as each second passed like an hour. The air stirred and he froze. There was someone coming. He clenched Morrowil tighter as he watched the long hallway. His heart beat against his ribcage, when suddenly a figure appeared.
The light of the torches lit her flawless face. “Vera,” he said in surprise.