Rosinanti_Rise of the Dragon Lord

by Kevin J. Kessler

  “This is a fun party. Pity you can’t join us.”

  “Were that within my power, you would surely suffer the—”

  “Yes, I’ve heard your threats before, Aurax, but they’re just words with as much substance as your body.” She approached him fearlessly and waved a hand through the clerics face, dispelling it.

  Aurax clenched his jaw in utter hatred. “I will see to it that you suffer to the fullest extent of my wrath.”

  “It must be hard to have wrath when you can’t even lift a spoon.” Maura made eye contact with Nahzarro over Aurax’s shoulder. The Grassani king had finished slicing through the last of the hounds and was reaching into his pocket to retrieve the small device that could rid them of Aurax once and for all. Maura just had to keep the demon’s attention on her, which was proving easy given his utter distaste for the blond-haired human.

  “What’s that?” Maura asked, pointing to a splotch of discoloration along Aurax’s jaw. The demon did not respond so much as he growled from somewhere deep in his throat. “It looks like a bruise to me. But how is that possible?”

  “You know nothing, human.”

  “What happened? Did your demon mommy give you a spanking? Or is there someone out there that you’re finally afraid of?”

  Nahzarro was closing in, the weapon grasped firmly in his right hand. Aurax had no idea. Nevick was handily rounding up the remainder of the combating force. This was going to work.

  “I fear nothing, you putrid sack of meat.”

  “It couldn’t have been Zouka, and Valentean has been with us the whole time. And believe me, had one of us managed to buckle your glass jaw, we would have talked about it!”

  Aurax was shaking, now beyond the point of words. Maura only had to hold his attention for a moment longer.

  “So, was it Aleksandra? No? I guess it would be too much to hope that love affair had soured. So…Kayden then?”

  Aurax screamed in unbridled rage, throwing his arms out to the side as a crimson light erupted from his body. The glare did not hurt, but the air around Maura became humid. When the light faded, every centimeter of their temporary battlefield was crawling with Skirlack demons. The only space unoccupied was a small circle in which Aurax and Maura stood.

  She heard Nevick cry out and watched as the sea of rubbery, red flesh threw itself against him. Nahzarro was instantly overrun, the creatures grabbing him and pulling him roughly back. Maura watched in horror as the handheld weapon fell from his grip, tumbling into obscurity amidst the monstrous throng. Soon both Nahzarro and Nevick were no longer visible, completely swallowed by the nightmarish horde.

  Maura attempted to spring into action, but she was overrun by four Skirlack soldiers who, rather than attacking her and splitting her open, grabbed her by the arms and legs and held her aloft before Aurax, who was now smiling wickedly.

  “Now do you see, you petulant pustule?” he hissed at her, moving closer, bringing his face centimeters from her own once more. “You attempt to combat fundamental forces of nature and expect to come out unscathed on the other side. You are nothing, an insect trying to fight the planet itself. And now, Maura Lorne of the dead village of Lazman, you will finally pay the ultimate price for your garish defiance of the one true master race of Terra.”

  Maura desperately thrashed against the grip of her captors, but she was pinned in place helplessly. She snarled and squirmed, but she was no match for the demons’ physical strength. One of the soldiers stepped up beside Aurax, its fangs dripping with hungry saliva. It bore its claws and batted the air in front of her.

  “Now, this is what is going to happen. My subordinate here will split open your stomach, reach inside, and feast upon your entrails. And I shall watch every solitary instant and bask in the truest justice of the Mother’s will. I only hope that you remain alive and conscious long enough to truly feel and understand what is happening to you. Goodbye, pest.”

  As the demon moved in for the kill, Maura saw a golden light erupt from the pile of demons who had pinned Nahzarro and were likely attempting to disembowel him. Many of them were flung back and away just enough where Maura could see Nahzarro’s gloved hand shoot into the air, waving with an exaggerated flourish. The weapon that contained the final remnant of King Matias’s essence jumped from the ground, seemingly on its own, and flew to her, carried on the invisible waves of a last-ditch effort spell from the battered king.

  He is getting a lot more than kissing if we get out of this, Maura thought to herself as she lashed back with her head, striking the soldier holding her on the right, along the nose. His grip instantly relaxed, and Maura tore her arm free, reaching out a hand to catch the incoming projectile.

  Aurax’s eyes bulged as she thrust the tiny, metallic object through his body and squeezed until the glass on its surface shattered. White light began to emanate throughout Aurax’s body, and the Skirlack holding Maura instantly let go as though the light was burning them.

  “What have you…?” Aurax said, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

  “When you get home, tell your mommy I said hello and that I’m sorry she won’t be joining us!” She fully crushed the device in her fist, and the light erupted from Aurax’s body, escaping out through his eyes, nose, and mouth. The demon screamed in agony as the white light of Grassan’s former monarch shredded through his incorporeal form and bathed the entire area in its alabaster radiance.

  The light shredded through the flesh of any Skirlack it touched, burning them to nothingness as it filled the area. Maura stumbled forward, holding one arm in front of her face to shield her eyes from the white light that was tearing Aurax to shreds. All she could hear above the explosive eruption of energy was the demon’s high-pitched shriek. As the glare subsided, Maura slowly opened her eyes amidst the newfound silence.

  Aurax was gone. Where he had stood, there was now only a blackened scorch mark burned into the pavement. The Skirlack demons who had overrun them were also nonexistent. The only remaining evidence of them was a layer of grey ash covering much of the street. Nahzarro lay face down, partially buried in the powdery remnants. Nevick sat off to the side, leaning against the front of a house. A pile of ash buried him up to the waist. Both were bruised and bleeding, but they were alive and had suffered no serious injuries.

  Maura exhaled in triumph, allowing the shattered ruin of the weapon’s casing to slide from her fingers. It struck the ground and practically exploded into hundreds of pieces. She smirked at the blackened pavement where Aurax had once stood. She knew this particular foe was not dead, but he was certainly raging somewhere in the bowels of Lokhar. And that, above all else, brought a smile to her face.

  She ran to Nahzarro, grabbing him by one arm and tried to haul him to his feet.

  “You did it,” he grunted happily as he stood once more, gathering his fallen whips and returning them to his belt.

  “Aurax is gone,” she confirmed, nodding to him with a smile upon her face.

  “For now,” they heard Nevick say. They looked over to see the big man walking quickly over to join them. “But we have no idea how long he’s going to stay that way.” Nevick turned his gaze up toward the highest reaches of the dark floating fortress, which threateningly hung above them all.

  “We need to move,” Nahzarro said in agreement, nodding along with the hero of Casid.

  “How do we do this without Valentean?” Maura asked, filling the space between them with the one question none of them wanted to ask. To face the sorceress alone was foolish. They would be killed easily. But they also couldn’t just sit around and wait for Valentean. Maura had no idea where he had gone off to, and none of them were familiar with the locales of the former Kackritta. It was an impossible situation.

  Then, as though answering her anxiety, jolting arcs of red and blue lightning filled the sky around the fortress, erupting out from the balcony that sat around the perimeter of the palace’s highest point…just below The Eye.

  “We may be down one Spirit of Light
,” Maura said, the spark of renewed hope alight in her voice, “but I think we just gained a Spirit of Order.”

  Seraphina was thankful for whatever sorcery had transformed the interior of Aleksandra’s throne room into a lush landscape. It was less damaging and debilitating as she smacked into it over and over. She struggled on the ground, lying in a small circle of upended and burned grass, trying to catch her breath. This wasn’t a battle. It was a prolonged execution.

  Aleksandra hovered high above, gazing down on her with the detached boredom of a deity lowering itself to engage with mortals. Seraphina felt helpless in the presence of such power. Crimson lightning danced along Aleksandra’s fingertips as the sorceress smirked.

  “Have you acquiesced to defeat?” she called down mockingly. “Has my power truly broken your spirit so quickly, Harbinger?”

  Seraphina didn’t bother with a response and exhaled forcefully. The Ice Queen had found when she attempted to engage her sister while flying, Aleksandra always had the advantage. Was there some way to take that away? Some way for Seraphina to face her sister in an arena where all of that power, all of that speed was negated?

  She nearly gasped as a plan began to form in her mind. The lake that sat as part of the illusion called out to her, offering assistance. She could do it. There was a way to even the playing field and perhaps even gain the upper hand. Seraphina’s eyes shone with the blue energy of order, and five thick tendrils of water rocketed up at her triumphant sister.

  Aleksandra spotted them too late. The water wrapped around her arms and legs, with the final and thickest tentacle of liquid surrounding her neck like a noose. Before Aleksandra could shrug off the assault, Seraphina commanded the lake to reel its flowing appendages back, dragging the empress down roughly until she vanished beneath the water’s surface.

  Seraphina climbed to her feet and leapt into the air, her body straight as an arrow. She dove into the lake just in time to see Aleksandra thrashing and raging. The twin red lights of her eyes were like beacons through the dark liquid. Seraphina had no problem breathing while surrounded by her element and could cut through the underwater realm with a grace and ease reserved only for fish. Aleksandra was not so lucky.

  Seraphina could see anger and panic flashing through her sister’s eyes as she attempted to fly up and out of the oppressive captivity created by Seraphina’s mastery. Aleksandra attempted to form a fireball in her hand, but the water instantly quenched even the magically enhanced flames of chaos. The Ice Queen commanded the fluid that surrounded them to swirl further around the creature that had once called her sister. Aleksandra flailed as she was dragged farther and farther down.

  Seraphina rocketed at Aleksandra, extending one hand in front of her until it slammed into the empress’s face. The Spirit of Order used the force of her momentum to further push her chaotic sibling down, slamming her into the lake’s sand floor. Aleksandra glared around Seraphina’s pressing fingers in utter hatred, and Seraphina returned the iron eye lock with a calm and patient countenance. She did not have to strike her sister down. Seraphina only had to wait.

  It tore at her heart to drown her sister, and she recalled with startling clarity the many times Aleksandra had comforted her. How she had confided in her older sister all too often while the unknown architect of Terra’s destruction simply smiled at her and brushed her hair as if she hadn’t been plotting the upending of their world.

  Aleksandra opened her mouth and screamed in fury. The sound was distorted as bubbles erupted from her open maw. Seraphina felt pity for an instant, believing this surrender of oxygen to be Aleksandra’s admission of defeat. She was wrong.

  Somehow, in defiance of the natural order of Terra itself, an explosion tore from Aleksandra’s body. Seraphina was flung back through the water and, an instant later, felt Aleksandra’s hand close around her throat as the empress flew up with her captive sibling, erupting out of the lake. Her scream was now fully audible, and it shook the walls and perhaps even the entire fortress itself.

  Aleksandra was dripping with moisture. Her clothing hung damp and heavy around her slender body. Her hair was matted to her face, but the glow of chaos upon her eyes had never shone brighter. Seraphina could see the cracks forming along the flesh beside her eyes deepen and elongate as she poured more and more chaos into her body.

  With a fling of her arm, Aleksandra tossed her sister through the air, past the field of green, until she landed with a thud and a smack into the hexagonal tiles of the throne room’s natural flooring. An explosion of red chaos energy erupted through the surface beneath her, perfectly echoing Seraphina’s agony at the sickening impact.

  The Ice Queen’s body ached, and her head swam with momentary delirium. She watched as the water dropped from her hair and nose, pooling upon the solid ground, with gentle amusement. She even chuckled as the trickling moisture tickled her neck. A jolting, sparking streak of lightning slammed into the ground millimeters from her left temple, and instantly, Seraphina remembered where she was.

  She turned to stare up at her sister as she slowly descended toward the floor. The moisture that had soaked her to the bone was evaporating, burned away in the face of gathering chaos. Now dry and once more very in control of the situation, Aleksandra smirked.

  “Is that fear? Do you think that’s what Sophie felt before you blasted her from existence?”

  “I didn’t want to…kill her.”

  “Silence!” The empress leveled two fingers, pointing them down at Seraphina’s face. They sparked with red lightning, prologuing the final spell that would end the Ice Queen once and for all.

  “Aleksandra…I still…love you.”

  Her sister paused, the red draining slightly from her eyes. “You dare to—”

  A blinding white light erupted along the northern balcony, cutting off Aleksandra’s disbelief. She turned her head to stare at whatever had occurred down there, and Seraphina heard the familiar voice of Aqua roar in her ear.

  The mind, Seraphina! Attack the mind! While she’s distracted!

  Instantly complying with her mentor’s command, Seraphina thrust an arm forward, stretching out with her power, attempting to establish a connection with the twisted and monstrous mind of the chaos creature. Aleksandra’s momentary distraction worked to Seraphina’s favor as she plunged through the walls of her sister’s psyche. The empress attempted to resist, but it was too late, and Seraphina dove deep down into the thoughts, emotions, and mind of Aleksandra.

  Vahn’s arms shook as four Champions marched him to the stake that would be his funeral pyre. The quaking of his limbs had nothing to do with fear or any kind of anxiety. These crippling bouts of chest pain had been occurring with more frequency, and Vahn was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Age and stress had finally caught up with him.

  Gazing off the stage, Vahn could see the cowering populace of Aleksandrya gathered once more to bear witness to yet another painful miscarriage of justice. Their fear and sadness seemed more palpable on this day, for it was not simply some random street urchin who had mouthed off to a Champion being put to death. It was Vahn Burai—the last true symbol of the former Kackrittan military.

  The stage was surrounded by Champions and Skirlack alike. They formed a barrier on all sides, no less than five deep at their weakest point. Security was tight, and Vahn hoped the remnants of the rebellion, if there were any left, would not attempt anything foolish. Scanning the crowd, his heart sank. He immediately identified almost a dozen rebellion fighters creeping closer through the crowd. They were hopelessly outnumbered. This was folly. A suicide mission.

  Vahn tried to warn them away with a stern glare, but they either did not notice or did not care. Their loyalty to him was admirable but not at the expense of their own lives.

  “Servants of the one true Goddess!” Landon cried out, stepping in front of Vahn with his arms held out wide. “Today, we bring before the masses the ultimate sinner. A relic of a forgotten age. One of the leaders of the ill-fated and deci
mated Kackrittan rebellion. And most damning of all, the father of the dreaded Shogai itself!” Vahn could hear gasps and hisses directed his way from the percentage of the populace who followed the teachings of The Faithful. “For gross crimes against our benevolent empress and our most High and Holy Mother, we, The Faithful, do hereby sentence Vahn Burai to be purified by the kiss of the Goddess. We offer up our hopes and prayers that from the blaze, he shall be reborn as one of the true believing children of our noble order. As it shall burn!”

  The gathered populace raised their mutilated hands to the sky and repeated Landon’s final words. Vahn once more noted the variance in belief that spread throughout the crowd. True believers practically screamed this tenet of The Faithful, while those still loyal to the history of Kackritta spoke the words with lifeless eyes or winced as if the mere act of pushing the air that carried this phrase past their throats would cut their mouths to shreds.

  Landon turned to Vahn with a wicked smile as the torchbearer approached the stage with a crackling fire that would soon grow into the inferno that would claim the Captain Elite’s life.

  “I’ve waited so long for this day, Burai,” Landon said, running his fingertips over Vahn’s bare chest and abdomen as if marveling at the burns and scars he had carved into it. Vahn saw a look of wonder and reverie alight in Landon’s gleeful stare. His years in exile had twisted this once proud and good man into an inhuman monster who delighted in the systematic defiling of one he used to call friend and brother. “Honestly, all that reborn gibberish was for these sycophants. I just want you to burn and to die screaming.”

  Landon stepped away once more, gesturing to the torchbearer, who eagerly rushed forward. As he placed the flaming beacon into Landon’s waiting palm, Vahn watched with horror as the remnants of the rebellion moved ever closer to what was sure to be their ultimate destruction. He saw the faces of elite warriors, soldiers, and even many of the everyday citizens of Kackritta who had joined their ranks advancing, hands vanishing into sleeves and pockets, no doubt resting on various instruments of weaponry.