“Try if you dare.”
Aurax chuckled. “I enjoy you, human. You have the spirit we Skirlack admire. Ruthless ambition, a propensity to violence and anger, that single-minded pride that makes your ilk so easily swayed to our cause. It is a shame you will die tonight.”
“The Emperor of Karminia fears nothing,” he declared, stepping up to the demon and staring into its yellow eyes.
“Yet.” Aurax vanished in a haze of crimson.
McNeal relaxed his grip from the hilt of his sword and found his hand to be shaking uncontrollably. He clenched it back into a fist and stalked to his throne, forcefully pulling the sword from the backrest and tossing it to the ground at Belladon’s feet. He sat in a huff, infuriated that Aurax got the last word in on him. Baus waved a hand in the space Aurax had occupied moments earlier, a crazed half-smile upon his face. The general, however, stared at him with a scowl of concern.
“Your Highness…” she began.
“High alert,” McNeal commanded. “We won’t have long to wait for bloodshed.
The Heart of Casid moved over the mountain range that separated Grassan from Aleksandrya, and despite the consistent hum and churn of the engine, the cockpit was deathly silent. Valentean stood at the forward viewport, watching the snow-capped peaks pass below them. It had been only months since he and Maura had traversed these mighty mountains on foot, yet still it seemed as though that had been someone else’s life.
The life of a weakling, Kayden’s voice sneered at him within the arena of his mind. A man who sat idly by while his princess and home were sealed away. A man who, at this very moment, marches to his own death because he does not have the fortitude to embrace the power he could so easily call upon.
Valentean’s anger churned at the sound of his brother’s sneering condescension. It was the same tone that had driven him to moments of rage as a child. The chaos in his blood was going for broke now; it was pulling out all the stops to try and urge him to give in, to revel in its power.
Val, came Seraphina’s voice, how can you hope to return to me when you won’t fight with everything you have? He could feel the heat of chaos spreading through his veins, and it tingled his spine with a shuddering longing to feel the flickering warmth of the flames.
“Are you doing all right?” Maura’s actual voice cut through the silent one-sided conversations occurring in his head. He turned to see her coming to stand beside him, gazing up at the Blood Star with trepidation.
“Yes. I’m fine,” he replied, looking back out at the mountains, trying to end this conversation before it began.
“It’s hard to think that so recently we were walking over these mountains while you were teaching me to control mana.” She echoed his earlier thoughts, and Valentean dismissed it with a casual wave.
“We have more important things to worry about right now than reminiscing about past journeys.”
Maura took a long, slow breath beside him, seemingly attempting to bring her emotions under control. “Well, yes, we have an uphill battle to fight,” she admitted. “And to accomplish our tasks of destroying The Eye and distracting Aleksandra, we’re going to have to work together.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because right now our two heaviest hitters aren’t speaking to one another.” She gestured over at Nevick, who sat silently in the command chair, Deana by his side as their hands interlocked. Valentean and Nevick had not spoken a word to one another since their confrontation in the throne room. “Don’t you think you should say something?”
Though he hated to admit it, Maura was right. Despite the insistence of the chaos churning within his heart, Valentean knew that only a team effort would lead to a favorable outcome. He could not hope to destroy The Eye and topple Aleksandra alone.
What use is one such as him to you? the voice of his father asked even as Valentean nodded to Maura and wordlessly turned toward the command chair.
There you go again, Kayden sneered at him along the planes of his thoughts. You care so much for these ridiculous humans that now you’re going to beg one’s forgiveness? Valentean’s common sense was fighting off the invasive racket, and he shook his head to try and clear his thoughts.
Nevick noticed his approach and visibly tensed, sensing another potential confrontation. He rose from the seat, leaving a concerned-looking Deana behind and moved to the railing, glaring down at the approaching animus warrior.
“What do you want?” the big man demanded.
Valentean felt the edge of irritation grate on his psyche at the casual disregard his massive companion seemed to show for him. However, he once more thought about the upcoming struggle and strained to swallow back both the taunting voice of the chaos and his pride. “Look, we have a big battle ahead of us,” he said, searching for the right words.
“Yes, I’m aware.”
Valentean took another humbling inhalation as the flames of his rage seared his screaming mind. “With that being said, I think it’s important that we stand together.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. What happened in the throne room…it should never have happened.”
Nevick nodded and stared at Valentean, clearly not at all satisfied. “If you’re trying to apologize, you’re taking a pretty long route.”
Valentean’s mind exploded with the voices of Kayden and his father screaming over one another in a cacophony of outrage, calling upon him to strike out against his colleague and spill his boiling blood just minutes before their assault was to begin. Valentean’s fist began to close, heat building along the flesh of his palm.
Nevick braced himself. He knew provoking the animus warrior was foolish. He had enough common sense to know that teamwork was vital to their mission in stopping Aleksandra. However, there was some part of him that just couldn’t let go. Dangerous sparks were forming between the two warriors once more as Nevick glowered down at Valentean.
“Nevick…” Deana said from behind him, still nervously seated in the command chair. He ignored her, though. Valentean’s fist was tightening, and smoke began to pour between his clenched fingers. A small lump of fear began to form in Nevick’s throat, and he swallowed as though he could push it down into the depths of his stomach.
“Enough,” Maura shouted, jumping between the two men, arms held out to her sides as if to forcibly hold the warriors back. “Everyone is on edge right now, and we can’t allow infighting. The enemy is out there.” She pointed to the viewport emphatically, and Nevick suddenly realized how very foolish he was acting. The world was at stake, their very right to live free. And here he was, picking a fight with an unstable god over a bruised ego.
“You’re right,” Nevick said, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment. He saw Valentean’s fist slowly unclench, the smoke billowing out as his fingers opened and vanishing into the open air. “We’re fine, Valentean.”
“Good,” the animus warrior said softly, turning around and stalking off in another direction.
Nevick saw Maura’s muscles immediately relax as her friend retreated. She exhaled in a long sigh and looked up at Nevick with a glare of annoyance and disbelief. He suddenly felt very small and very foolish under the blond’s withering stare.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, averting his gaze. She nodded, bringing up a hand to massage the bridge of her nose with two fingers, and walked away leaving the bridge through the starboard doorway. Nevick turned and trod back toward the chair where Deana still sat, hands on her hips, shaking her head at him.
“Was that all really necessary?”
“I know,” he replied. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do,” she said back. “It’s called male bravado, and it’s ridiculous.”
“I just can’t put that throne room fight behind me.”
“You’re going to have to. Valentean is…he’s sick. He’s infected with that chaos essence, and it’s not going away any time soon. Until this is over, we have to just…be there for him no matter what.�
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Nevick’s jaw tightened. They had enough on their plate, what with invading an enemy nation and taking on the single most powerful magical being in the history of Terra. The last thing any of them needed was for their strongest asset to go rogue against them.
Nevick, of course, knew that the real Valentean, the kind-hearted man he had fought beside in Kahntran, could never act this way. Deana was right. He was sick and needed their help once this ordeal was over and done with. Maura had come to him regarding her and Nahzarro’s plan to use Valentean’s chaotic new powers to aid in their battle against Aleksandrya. Nevick hated the very idea of it, but he saw the logic. Valentean was the only one of them strong enough to stand up to her. He might not like it, but he had to trust in these dangerous abilities.
“Approaching drop zone,” Mitchell called out over his shoulder. Nevick felt his stomach tighten, and he looked down at Deana.
“I wish I could go with you,” she remarked sadly.
Nevick shook his head, nearly overcome with longing for this wonderful woman. “You’ll be better off here, watching over the boys,” he replied, motioning toward the Duzels.
Deana chuckled. “Yes, I’ll keep them in line.” She laughed again, her giggle turning into a sob of dread that she tried desperately to hold within.
“Hey,” Nevick said, kneeling in front of the seat and taking the side of his beloved’s face in one of his strong hands. “I’m coming back, Deana. This isn’t a goodbye.”
“I know,” she said, one of her hands coming up to gently lie along his. She pressed her cheek into the vast expanse of his palm, and Nevick could feel the wet streaks of tears along his skin. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she said softly.
“I promise.”
“And when you see Zouka again, make sure you punch him extra hard for me.”
Nevick chuckled sadly. He knew that monster still existed. Valentean’s accounting of what had occurred within Karminia had left little doubt as to the Aleksandryan general’s continued ability to draw breath. At first, he had scoffed upon hearing that the animus warrior had left the Gorram alive. But Nevick took an infinitesimal measure of satisfaction at knowing that enacting justice upon the brute was still his responsibility to dole out.
The airship shuddered as it began to lower and hover. Nevick gathered Deana up in his arms and walked with her down the steps, gazing sidelong at Valentean, who turned and stalked from the cockpit as the ship began to settle. That left Nevick, Deana, and the Duzels alone on the bridge. It seemed apropos that the last children of Casid have this moment together before diving into the fray.
The ship bucked slightly as it settled, and Nevick set Deana down in her chair. She wheeled up beside him as they moved toward the brothers. Michael rose from his seat first and smiled at his friends.
“This is it,” he remarked, a hint of nervousness shaking his voice. Nevick noticed the mechanic’s right fist clenched tightly at his side. Deana reached out and wrapped her fingers around Michael’s hand, steadying him and calming him with a gentle squeeze.
“It’s going to be all right,” Nevick said, staring his friend in the face. “We’re all going to do this together. We will fight together and win together. Then, when it’s all said and done, we can celebrate together.”
A smile broke through Michael’s grim demeanor. “That’s something I’m looking forward to. I could use a drink.”
“You and me both,” Mitchell said, still hunched over the control panel.
“Hey,” Deana called over to the inventor, “come away from there.”
Mitchell flipped a few more switches and stood, turning to his brother and friends, slowly stalking over. For a moment, there was silence as each member of the Casid family thought on the other three, what they had all been through and what they meant to one another.
“For Casid,” Michael said, putting his arm forward, fist clenched.
“For our home,” Nevick replied, pressing his fist into Michael’s.
“For our friends,” Mitchell said, extending his arm, his fist joining theirs.
“For our family,” Deana said, laying her lily-white, tiny hand atop their fists.
Maura entered the tiny hovel Nahzarro had once claimed aboard the airship while they were stranded in Casid, to see the new king hunched over a small table, completely engrossed in a large scroll. His concentration was so absolute that he did not seem to hear her enter.
“Find something interesting?” Maura asked.
Nahzarro jumped at the sudden sound of her voice and whirled around, one hand clutching the small, white pendant around his neck that once signified his father as a member of the Collective of Light.
“Maura,” he exclaimed, slowly uncurling his fingers from around the heirloom. “You startled me.”
“Clearly,” she replied, chuckling lightly at his grandiose reaction to her sudden presence. “We’re going to be landing soon.” As if on cue, she could feel the airships engines slowing. They must have been approaching the landing zone.
“That’s good,” he said, straightening his top hat and smoothing the folds of his pristinely made, long, purple coat. It was almost odd to see him in this room, once more adorned in the finery of royalty. Maura had thought, during their prolonged stay in the ruins of Casid, that the fraying and tarnishing of Nahzarro’s royal garb had humanized him in a way when he wasn’t being an ass.
“What was that you were reading?” Maura asked.
“Just my father’s notes as it pertains to this amulet.”
“You mean it’s not just a marker?”
“Apparently not.”
“What can it do?”
He opened his mouth to respond as the ship settled onto the landing zone, shaking them in the process. Maura pitched forward, caught off guard, and Nahzarro stepped forward to catch her in his arms. She was, of course, perfectly capable of remaining upright on her own, but Maura allowed herself to be held for a moment, giving her an excuse to enjoy the feeling of Nahzarro’s arms around her.
They stared at each other for a moment, silence making her lips itch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss, allowing their problems and anxieties at the coming battle to melt away as they dissolved into one another. He returned the kiss with an almost desperate intensity as if he, too, were longing to be lost in this one final moment together before the storm they were about to sail into overcame them.
Her flesh tingled with goosebumps, and Maura was suddenly very aware of her heartbeat as it echoed through her body. She drew her fingers along his slender yet strong shoulders, massaging into them as he pulled her waist closer. For this one moment, there was no war, no Skirlack, no Aleksandra. There was only the pleasure of the moment, the heat of their bodies, the wet smacking of their lips against one another. In that instant, they were the only two people in existence.
“Hello,” a voice said from behind them, jolting Maura back to the here and now.
She straightened and tore her arms and lips away from that of the mage king, jerking out of his grip and rubbing her hands along her pants nervously. Valentean stood in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked up as he stared at the two.
“H…Hi,” Maura responded, her voice shaking with nervous energy. Nahzarro as well looked mortified to be caught in the act and had actually turned away from the animus warrior, moving back over to the table upon which rested the scroll he had been studying.
“I wanted to let you know we’ve arrived and we’re moving out,” Valentean said as though nothing strange had been occurring within the room. Maura was thankful for that.
“Perfect,” she replied, flashing him a shaking smile upon lips that still tasted of the king’s tongue. Valentean turned and walked away without a second glance, and Maura exhaled deeply, color flooding into her cheeks. She turned back toward Nahzarro, who was busying himself at the table, moving things about nervously but doing nothing. Maura approached slowly and laid a hand along Nahzarro’s shoulder. The kin
g stopped his fussing and brought his shaking right hand up to caress her fingers. Without turning to face her, he spoke, his voice choked with emotion.
“Promise me we’re both making it out of this.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Then lie to me.”
She hesitated. “We’re both going to make it. I promise.”
Valentean descended through the open rear hatch of the airship and stepped out into the frosted air, feeling the ground beneath his feet change from the crisp smoothness of steel to crunching snow. He walked alone, feeling none of the camaraderie his fellows seemed to be experiencing.
Maura and Nahzarro? he thought to himself. When did that happen? The sight was so jarring it actually stifled the ceaseless voice of the chaos within his heart, and Valentean enjoyed a rare moment of free thinking. Sensing movement behind him, he turned to see Nevick and Deana locked in a tight embrace, their faces mashed together in a passionate, longing kiss of farewell.
He turned back toward the frosted sky laid out before him, following a steep drop that marked the end of the cliff face the ship had landed upon. Valentean took a deep breath and held it for what felt like an eternity until he saw it. There it was—Aleksandrya, sitting like a stain upon the landscape he had once loved so well. He thought on Maura and Nahzarro, of Nevick and Deana, and he knew that somewhere down in the chaotic madness of this corpse of his former home, Seraphina awaited his return.
He stretched out with his feelings, trying to sense along the lines that connected them, but since that confusing encounter in the Dreamscape, the ties that bound them to one another had felt weaker than ever. It seemed as though when the chaos got stronger, their psychic link to one another faltered all the more. Their powers were polar opposite and repelled apart.
But still, he could make out the faintest hint of her presence. She was restricted, confined, but yet there was no fear. There was pain, quite a bit of it. But beneath it all lay something else. Resolve. She was strong in a way he could never be. Following the pathways of energy, he could sense hope burning like a torch within her heart, and he admired her all the more for it.
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