by Callie Kanno
The orders which were passed quickly through the ranks. A line of L’avan soldiers stepped forward and each called upon their vyala. Adesina could see their eyes glowing with power, and the waves of their magic shot forward toward the advancing force.
Under normal circumstances, the enemy would have been met with illusions that would have sent the soldiers into disarray. However, the darkness that Cha-sak had spread over the sky seemed to be impairing the illusions, which relied on the bending of light. The mercenaries continued to move forward, unbothered by the attempts of the Red L’avan.
“Red One back,” ordered Me’shan. “Red Two, Gold, and Orange forward.”
Three groups moved forward to replace the first, and a new wave of magical attacks began.
The Gold group only consisted of half a dozen soldiers. The gold L’avan ability had to do with energy, which usually meant either depleting an enemy’s energy and making them collapse or adding to the energy of allies. L’iam had this ability, but something had happened to him during his capture the year before. When he had fought Adesina just after Faryl’s rescue, he had used his powers to call down lightning from the sky—something he had never attempted before. The latent ability had not disappeared after L’iam was freed from Basha’s control, and he had begun to develop it. Other L’avan with gold in their eyes were tested to see if they could learn to wield their powers in a similar manner, and the small Gold group were the only ones who proved apt. A large number of children seemed to have potential, but it appeared that most of the adult L’avan were too limited by what they believed was—or was not—possible for their vyala to accomplish.
The six Gold L’avan now stood at the front of the army, closing their eyes in intense concentration. Their hands were joined as they stood there, linking their powers into a single well from which they could all draw. This made their task an easier one.
While they were preparing their lightning strikes, the Red Two and Orange groups were busy sending out streams of vyala to hinder and hurt the Shimat force. Enemy arrows were thrown back to their source, the ground warped and cracked under the feet of the advancing soldiers, in some places the earth erupted and sent mercenaries flying.
As the enemy soldiers stumbled and fell, the lightning began to rain down on their heads.
It was a concentrated attack from the Gold group. Dozens of bolts fell from the sky in quick succession, killing and wounding the Shimat forces in large groups. The deafening roar of thunder washed over the field, causing almost every soldier to flinch. The frenzy lasted only a few seconds, but the damage was considerable.
When the last of the lightning strikes fell, the Gold group collapsed in one motion. They had exhausted their vyala and were immediately unconscious.
“Have them carried back to the camp,” commanded Adesina.
Me’shan didn’t wait for the Shimat to recover from the barrage of magical attacks. He called for the next wave—this time a group of Seharan soldiers.
“Archers,” he ordered.
The archers mainly consisted of Seharan hunters, but they were all skilled with the bow. They had been positioned along the eastern side of the hills that overlooked the battlefield, not far from the river that ran all through the valley. The height of the hill gave them greater range than the archers in the Shimat army, which was a much-needed advantage.
The simple Seharans had only been soldiers for a month or two, but they took their orders with pride. Each archer raised his or her bow and took careful aim.
Adesina took her cue from her father and issued instructions of her own. “Cavalry and Rashad at the ready!”
While horses were common in Sehar, few of them had been trained for battle, and even fewer felt comfortable in the presence of Rashad. The cavalry consisted mostly of L’avan horses and riders, and there were less than three hundred of them. Fortunately, the large majority of the Shimat’s mercenaries were without horses.
Adesina rode at the head of the cavalry, prepared to lead them into battle, and Ravi was joined by Riel to lead the Rashad. The L’avan queen raised her Blood Sword and let her vyala flow through it, causing it to shine like a beacon.
“Be safe, my daughter,” whispered Me’shan in a voice that only she could hear.
Adesina gave her father a tender smile before turning back toward her enemies. “Forward,” she shouted.
The sleek forms of the Rashad and the horses sprang forward in a unified motion. The thunder of the hoofbeats pounded in Adesina’s blood, and her mind became completely focused on the battle ahead. Every sense in her body seemed amplified.
She could smell the freshly churned earth and the lingering scent of ozone from the lightning. The wind whipped across her face and her tightly pinned hair tried to break free of its bonds. The dirty faces of the Shimat mercenaries became more distinct as Torith galloped closer.
The Rashad were faster than the horses, but they deliberately kept in line with the cavalry. Somewhere behind them, Me’shan gave the order for the archers to release, and a volley of arrows came down on the first few lines of mercenaries.
Adesina gave a fierce battle cry, and her voice was joined by the other L’avan of the cavalry and the roar of the Rashad.
The attack from the Seharan archers caused the first wave of mercenaries to falter, and Adesina’s force drove into them with a deafening clash of weapons and armor.
Some of the mercenaries had pikes and tried to use them to impale Adesina, but she knocked them aside with a brush of her vyala. One of the Shimat turned his horse and rode toward her, raising his own Blood Sword to meet hers.
Another explosion shook the air, and every soldier on both sides seemed to flinch. Adesina’s gaze flicked back to the hill that overlooked the battle, where Ruon and Sitara stood to fend off Cha-sak’s attacks.
Adesina had no more attention to spare. The Shimat bore down on her with a vicious swing of his sword. She was barely able to defend herself as the Shimat bore down on her, showing the skill that only came from years of experience.
Adesina used her vyala to harden her skin, but it still stung when a blow got past her defenses. She magically increased her agility, which helped her to compensate for her opponent’s greater experience.
Adesina blocked and parried, moving her sword with skill and grace, but she was not able to make an attack of her own. She waited patiently for an opening, which came with the next unexpected explosion from above their heads.
The Shimat’s horse shied from the direction of the noise, throwing its rider off balance. Adesina flicked her blade forward, cutting deep into the Shimat’s shoulder. The man bit back a cry of pain and shifted his sword to his other hand to continue fighting.
The delay caused by that movement cost him his life.
Adesina did not wait for him to adjust his handhold. She urged Torith forward and brought her sword down on her enemy with all the force of her magically enhanced arms.
The Shimat dropped to the ground and moved no more.
Adesina immediately turned to assess the position of the cavalry and Rashad force. The plan had been for them to strike first and then withdraw to make room for the infantry. She could see the foot soldiers were already moving into place, and she called out her next orders.
“Cavalry and Rashad withdraw.”
Me’shan could be seen at the head of the army as they charged forward to meet the enemy. Adesina felt her heart swell with pride as she witnessed her father’s skillful leadership in the midst of battle.
She was about to regroup with her attack force when a strange mix of emotions leaked through her Joining with Ravi.
Was it apprehension? Was it battle fury? Was it desperation?
Adesina turned Torith and kicked him into a gallop, heading for where Ravi was fighting.
He was not far from Adesina—he never was—but the chaos of the fighting made reaching him difficult. When Ravi came into view, Adesina immediately understood the confusing mix of emotions.
Ravi was surrounded by mercenaries with pikes, who were lashing out at him. He was being wounded and harried on all sides. He roared and swung at his enemies, causing them to back up. However, every time he turned to face some of the soldiers, the ones behind him moved in to attack.
Adesina jumped off Torith’s back, striking down the first soldier as she landed on the ground. She moved like a whirlwind, swinging her sword with deadly accuracy. By the time the mercenaries had gathered themselves enough to fight back, she had decreased their numbers by half.
Ravi did not pause, but latched his powerful jaws around the leg of the nearest enemy. A sickening crunch followed, and the man screamed in agony. Ravi spared the man’s life, and moved on to incapacitate the next soldier.
Soon, Ravi’s attackers were all either dead or unable to stand, let alone fight.
The large black feline turned to Adesina. “Are you hurt, Ma’eve?”
She shook her head. “No, but you are.”
Adesina sheathed her sword and knelt beside her guardian, placing both hands in his thick fur. She closed her eyes and let her vyala wash over Ravi, healing all of the wounds he had received.
She then took a deep breath, focusing on taking in energy, courage, and determination. The technique Ruon had taught her worked, and she felt her body rejuvenate as if she had had a long rest.
Ravi, who had been about to reprimand her for wasting her vyala in healing him, shut his mouth and stared at her in amazement.
“How did you do that?”
Adesina’s smile was a bit smug. “Ruon taught me.”
She could tell through their Joining that he had many other questions, but he didn’t have a chance to voice any of them. The air shook with another clash of Sitara and Cha-sak’s powers, and the noise of battle reasserted itself on their minds.
The two friends stood, and Adesina drew Falcon once more. Together they rushed forward to rejoin the fight.
Chapter Thirty: The Alchemist’s Sorrow
The roar of battle was almost deafening to those who were not accustomed to it. For the former apothecary of the High City, it was a terrifying experience. There was a small respite from the fighting where she stood, but that did not make the battle seem any less chaotic.
Faryl stayed close by Than’os’s side as he paused from fighting to take a breath.
She had never been trained as a Shimat, even though she had been raised in their fortress. She had been a breeding experiment conducted by Breyen, the Sharifal’s second-in-command, and then later she had become an enslaved alchemist. Faryl had never been considered of any worth because she had not inherited her mother’s L’avan abilities. Her father—if he could be called that—had discarded her as soon as it became clear that she could not wield magic.
Faryl gripped the handle of her short sword and maintained her defensive stance. She looked up at Than’os, taking in his sharp features and pinched look of concentration. When she had first met him she had not thought him a handsome man. During their journey in Zonne, his face had been badly burned, leaving him scarred. But now she did not see the scars or harsh lines of his face. She only saw the man that she loved more than anything else in the world. Perhaps her blindness to his defects was because she saw reflected in him the adoration that she knew shone in her own eyes.
Than’os had taught her how to defend herself so he could take her into battle without worrying for her safety. He believed her capable of anything, and it was rather baffling for Faryl to experience such confidence.
Even now, in the midst of battle, Faryl could see a desperate, loving sort of protectiveness when he looked at her. Almost as if preserving her life was more important to him than anything else.
Faryl was doing her best to keep away from the fighting. She and Than’os were on the far edge of the battle, which made it easier to keep out of the fray. Than’os had received orders to position his band of new recruits on the far end of the western flank and keep the Shimat forces from moving into a position where they could surround the L’avan and Seharan army. The order had been delivered to Than’os by a lithe Rashad named Rissa, who ran back and forth from the command tent.
Faryl had joined the band of soldiers because she had trained as a medic and would be able to save soldiers who might otherwise have died before they could be taken back to the camp to be healed.
Also, she couldn’t bear to be apart from Than’os when he was in danger.
Than’os had lost his hand in Zonne, and he was not the swordsman he used to be. Even so, he was no less of a soldier. He rallied his inexperienced young soldiers, raising his mace as he charged toward the enemy.
A movement to the right caught Faryl’s eye, and she turned in time to see a dark form slipping into a copse of trees. Than’os had just dispatched his current opponent, and so Faryl placed a hand on his arm to get his attention.
She pointed. “Someone is over there.”
Than’os frowned, which contorted his scars and made his sharp features seem even more fierce. “Let us go see.”
They moved quickly and quietly to the trees. Faryl saw the telltale glow of Than’os’s eyes and knew that he was using his vyala to scan the area. His eyes could see more than hers, so when a Shimat warrior dropped down from the branches of a tree, Than’os was ready. He lifted his mace to ward off the blow aimed at his head.
The Shimat landed gracefully, but did not renew his attack. His face wasn’t covered, and when he turned to face them Faryl gasped.
It was Breyen.
The last time Faryl had seen her father had been on the day she had traded her freedom for the life of her cellmate. At least, that is what she had been led to believe had happened. Breyen had manipulated her into thinking that her cellmate would be killed unless Faryl did everything the Shimat wanted. In reality, her cellmate had already escaped while Faryl was being held in a different room.
Faryl had spent the following five years living in a squalid basement and working as an alchemist for the organization she hated more than anything in the world, all for nothing.
Breyen had done that to her.
Breyen was the source of every unhappiness in her life.
“Well, well,” the Shimat leader sneered, “it seems that my little experiment has found a new master.”
“Breyen, what are you doing here?” managed Faryl. She was so shocked by her father’s sudden appearance that she could hardly speak.
“Leaving,” he replied. “The mighty Cha-sak should be distracted enough by the battle that he will not notice my absence until I am safely away. Soon, I hope, I will be completely hidden from his sight.”
Faryl was shocked by Breyen’s candidness. She wondered why he would tell them something like this, but then she realized that he was only being honest because it worked in his favor. He most likely assumed they would let him escape in order to give their soldiers a better chance at defeating Cha-sak. The L’avan and Seharan armies would stand a better chance without a strategic genius like Breyen leading the Shimat army.
“It is not possible to hide from Cha-sak. He is a demon of great power,” stated Than’os doubtfully. Faryl had told Than’os about her history and had spoken of Breyen. Now Than’os was watching her carefully and seemed to be gauging her reactions so that he could match them.
“Thanks to my little alchemist there,” Breyen said, nodding toward Faryl, “I have some valuable items that might make it possible.”
Faryl felt her face warm with shame. It was her work alone that had transformed L’avan blood into magical items for the Shimat. She had succeeded where all of their scientists had failed. There had been only five items that she had created, but all of them had been powerful—a healing salve, the potion that had put L’iam under Basha’s control, a pendant that hid the wearer from magical detection, a brooch that reduced the weight of whatever it was pinned to, and a circlet that made the wearer all but invisible.
Faryl had dreamed of the beautiful potential of her creations as she had ma
de them, pretending that they would serve some noble purpose even though she knew that they could only be used for evil in the hands of the Shimat. She had hoped each of her creations would find its way into the possession of better people, like the salve she had given to Adesina all those years ago. Yet Breyen had one of them hidden away—the pendant, based on what he had said about hiding from Cha-sak. And Faryl’s hope and hard work would help the man she hated most escape to a life of freedom.
Faryl felt the warmth within her begin to grow. The shame she had felt over her part in the wrongdoings of the Shimat began to change into something else.
Anger.
Breyen had used her entire life for his personal gain. He had hurt her and manipulated her and abused her and belittled her. He had convinced her that she had no real value, only the purpose that he gave to her.
He was wrong.
Faryl knew it more deeply now than she ever had before.
Breyen was wrong.
Faryl turned her vivid green eyes to Than’os and a silent understanding passed between them.
While in the desert of Zonne they had learned how to work together to accomplish certain tasks, jointly sharing the vyala that belonged to Than’os. Since then, they had developed the skill and expanded their joint abilities.
Than’os summoned his vyala and passed control over to her. Doing so left him defenseless, but it allowed Faryl to wield the power herself instead of simply directing its flow.
Her eyes glowed as she took control, and she faced Breyen with a terrible expression on her face. “No,” she said in a tone of finality.
Breyen’s brow furrowed. “No? What do you mean, no?”
“I am not going to let you slip away to start a new life,” Faryl declared. “You do not deserve to be free of Cha-sak. He is a noose of your own making, and I swear you shall be hanged by it.”
Breyen laughed in scorn. “Do you think you can possibly stop me?”
“Yes,” said Faryl, pointing to the ground at his feet, “I do.”
The earth erupted under Breyen’s boots, causing him to fly backward and land on his back. He stayed on the ground for several moments, staring at her in shock.