Cinder Reign: The Midnight Flame: A Sword & Sorcery Fantasy Adventure

by Vinn Winters

  “Sorcerer,” Eygodon corrected reflexively. “I must also confess that… I lied. As fun as it would be, I must confess that I am not actually here to slay your beloved king.”

  “What?” De’eyzen replied as he stepped back and tilted his head. “What foul goblin trickery is this? Your dragon is laying siege upon our kingdom at this very moment!”

  “No trickery at all,” Eygodon said with a shrug. “The dragon and I do not share the same goals. While I would indeed like to see this foul Kae-Koon kingdom reduced to rubble, I have more pressing matters that require my attention. Thus, I am only here for the King’s Pharos. Give that to me, and I’ll be on my way and your king will be safe… from me at least.”

  The knights sent confused glances towards each other.

  Hell. I expected the jewel to be a secret, but I didn’t expect everyone to be oblivious, Eygodon thought. This may be harder than I thought.

  “The King’s Pharos?” De’eyzen said, the look of surprise on his face quickly gave way to hysterical laughter. “You think we’d ever surrender that artifact to you, warlock?”

  “Sorcerer,” Eygodon muttered. At least someone knows about it…

  “We wouldn’t let you leave alive even if you walked away without the artifact,” De’eyzen said with a shrill laugh. “What would possibly lead you to believe that we would surrender one of King Sargedon’s most precious relics?”

  “I don’t know… an inherent desire to survive?” Eygodon replied. Reaching into his cloak with one hand, he pulled out an exquisitely-decorated obsidian book and held it outward at his side. The tome that was embroidered in blood-red rubies that were fused into each etching yet glimmered like magma in contrast to the darkened surface of the book.

  “That—that’s the Dakka Mor!” one of the knights shouted, causing an eruption of whispers between the knights. “That’s the book they said he used at Cinder Reign to wipe out Lord Aldrean’s Silverclad Knights!”

  “Silence!” De’eyzen commanded. “Do not succumb to the goblin’s bluff. An old book is nothing against the might of steel and arrow! Besides, the Silverclad Knights defeated Eygodon before when he was surrounded by his horde of Gruharr goblins. Now, he is all alone.”

  “Well… I don’t see the Embervyne Rangers here,” Eygodon replied, a grin growing across his face. “They were the ones that made me retreat. The Silverclad Knights never stood a chance.”

  “Lord Salderon, you have permission to cleanse the realm of this scum,” De’eyzen said to the knight closest to him. “Then, we will talk to King about replacing Lord Aldrean as paladin with the knight who didn’t fail in slaying Eygodon.”

  “It will be my honor and pleasure, Royal Advisor De’eyzen,” Lord Salderon said with a toothy smile.

  “If there is no other way,” Eygodon said. “But I did warn you.” Holding up his arms, his cloak vanished, leaving his only armor a laced, dark shirt under a black leather vest. He loosened the string about his neck, a glimmer of red flickered from a necklace tucked further in his shirt. Eygodon pulled the Dakkor Mor back in front of him. The book opened by itself, one page quickly spinning to the next.

  “Silverclad Knights! Let’s rip this goblin scum to pieces!” Salderon yelled. The knights charged towards the warlock, their speed only surpassed by arrows soaring through the air.

  Eygodon’s toothy-grin widened.

  ~

  Aldrean dashed towards the throne room. The only noise penetrating the silence was the echoing sound of his clanking armor. Though it was the middle of the day, a strange darkness had blocked out the sun; now only a dark crimson light filtered in through the giant palace windows.

  Aldrean stopped when he heard another set of footsteps running towards him. The paladin drew his blade and stared into the darkness.

  He lowered his weapon when he saw the royal advisor emerge from the darkness.

  “Lord Aldrean! Lord Aldrean!” De’eyzen screamed, wheezing as he fell at the feet of the paladin.

  “Speak, De’eyzen,” Aldrean said as he helped the man to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where have you been?” De’eyzen snapped. “You were supposed to be protecting the king!”

  “I was overseeing defensive preparations,” Aldrean replied. “Where is the king now? Is he safe?”

  “I have no idea!” De’eyzen yelled. “He was supposed to be in the throne room, or in the royal shelter, but he slipped away! It’s so easy for him to escape in his — current — form.”

  “I imagine you never owned a pet as a child,” Aldrean said flatly.

  “Of course not! Disgusting flea-ridden creatures,” De’eyzen replied.

  “We must find the king, and return him to the throne room immediately,” Aldrean continued.

  “No! Anywhere but the throne room!” De’eyzen cried.

  “What could be worse than the dragon outside?” Aldrean replied skeptically.

  “You were supposed to kill him!” De’eyzen shouted. “This is all your fault! If you had just done your duty—”

  “What do you mean, Advisor?” Aldrean replied, tilting his head slightly. “You are not making any sense.”

  “You should be defending the throne, knight! Defend our beloved kingdom from that thing!” De’eyzen screeched. “If you had just performed your duty and killed him at Cinder Reign, none of this would be happening! The king would be safe, and there would be peace across the—!”

  De’eyzen fell silent when Aldrean raised his blade towards the advisor’s chest.

  “Eygodon is here?” Aldrean asked, his voice stern.

  “Ye—yes,” the advisor stammered.

  “Where?”

  “He’s in—he’s in the throne room,” the advisor replied meekly.

  “Get out of my way,” Aldrean growled, glaring ahead.

  “First tell me where I may find other knights to seek protection—”

  “I said, get out of my way.”

  “Certainly, milord!” De’eyzen replied obediently, his voice cracking. The advisor slowly maneuvered around the paladin’s blade and then ran frantically towards the castle entrance.

  “I’ve waited a long time to finally put you down,” Aldrean muttered as he continued forward.

  ~

  The crimson glow filtering in through the windows offered almost no light as Aldrean entered the throne room.

  “Oh, Holy Willow, guide my path,” Aldrean said softly.

  The paladin whispered a small prayer, and a glow emanated from above, lighting up the immediate area around him.

  “Eygodon!” Aldrean shouted into the darkness.

  Silence.

  “Eygodon!” Aldrean shouted again. “Show yourself!”

  “I came here looking for a relic, but was promised a king. So I came in here looking for a king, but all I found was you,” a sly voice beckoned from the darkness. “For now, you will suffice.”

  “Summoning a dragon to do your dirty work, and the guards you slaughtered—this is a new low… even for one as filthy as you,” Aldrean yelled.

  “Oh, I assure you, that dragon has its own motivation for demolishing your kingdom,” Eygodon’s voice replied from the shadows.

  “It matters not. That dragon will be dead soon, and you along with it,” Aldrean challenged.

  “Or the more likely scenario, the dragon kills all your friends, and then rips open the castle and devours us both,” Eygodon said.

  “I would gladly forfeit my life to rid you from this world,” Aldrean replied boldly.

  “There’s that stubborn bout of honor you knights all have. Makes you do foolish things, take foolish risks. Perhaps you feel more alive with one foot already in the grave, but me… I prefer to live.”

  “You’re the one who deals in death, warlock,” Aldrean spat.

  “Sorcer—you know that, it doesn’t matter. Not right now at least. I’ll dive into the deepest depths of the abyss if it means I get to bury you with me. I know, at least… that I’ll be able to cla
w myself back from the dark. I’ve waited… a very long time for this,” Eygodon said.

  “As have I,” Aldrean responded, raising his sword. “Any final words before I purge you from this world, warlock?”

  “Just one question: How long has it been since you felt the intimate embrace of a woman?”

  “What?” Aldrean asked, squinting.

  Aldrean’s eyes widened as he saw a curvaceous, blonde-haired woman step out of the shadows, wearing nothing but a blood-red amulet around her neck.

  “Who — who are you?” Aldrean asked, his hands trembling.

  “Me?” the woman asked, continuing towards him. “No one important, at least not to the great Lord Aldrean.”

  “Uh — you need to get out of here,” Aldrean stammered. “It’s not safe! It’s too dangerous!”

  “Oh is it?” She looked down to her side and then back up at the paladin, her mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “Well, what if I like danger?”

  “Pl—please, milady!” Aldrean took a step back as she was almost in reaching distance and stumbled. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, there’s a vicious warlo—”

  “Shhhh,” the woman replied, gently resting her index finger over his lips. “There’s nobody else here. You’ve never been able to resist a pretty woman before; this is where you belong. Just you and me, and all of this darkness. So… whatever shall we do with that?”

  “Please…,” Aldrean whispered, as her lips drew closer to his, “you need to run.”

  “But I don’t want to run,” she said, too softly.

  Aldrean gasped as he felt multiple blades pierce his back, between the armor. He stumbled backwards and fell to his knees.

  The woman stepped forward and leaned into his cheek.

  “You should have never dared to cross me again, paladin,” she whispered into his ear.

  She jerked her head so her face was directly in front of his. Her eyes locked on his, she broke out into hysterical laughter.

  Aldrean watched in horror as each layer of her body fell off like sand, starting with the layers of her skin, then the fat tissues, then the muscles. Aldrean could still hear the shrill laughter when all that remained was a skeleton with bulging eyes, until those disintegrated too and the skeleton collapsed into sparkling blue dust.

  A silhouette moved around the paladin, becoming visible in the fading blue light of the dust. Aldrean could see one of its hands had nails as long as daggers. Each one of those nails was dripping with his blood.

  “You don’t know how to fight fair,” Aldrean said as he lifted his sword, wincing in pain from his wounds. “You have no honor.”

  “For you, old friend,” Eygodon sneered as he stepped towards the paladin. “I spare no expense.”

  ~

  Orbit pushed the tower shield off of him and cringing as he clenched his fists. Deep burns covered his arms, but he could still move them.

  He tried to rise, but stumbled and fell to his knees. He looked around to see the barricade he had been defending had been reduced to rubble. Debris and bodies scattered the ground around him.

  “Modrem!” he shouted, crawling across the ground. “Modrem!”

  “Orbit cannot fall this day,” Orbit mumbled between wheezing gasps of breath, his grip tightening on his hammer; it was charred from the inferno he had endured, but it was still solid. “Too many depend on Orbit’s victory. Orbit must — must bring them victory, must bring them safety.”

  Orbit saw a crossbow in the arms of a burnt corpse nearby. He crawled over and grabbed it and the few bolts he could find scattered about the area.

  “Looks like it’s still intact; there’s one thing going for Orbit,” Orbit muttered as he loaded it.

  He looked up. The rising smoke from the burn ruins hovered like black clouds above the kingdom. It took a moment but he was able to locate the dark creature soaring overhead. Arrows flew in its direction, from archers atop a piece of the battlement that was still intact.

  “No,” Orbit whispered. “Flee friends. Run before it notices what you are doing. Flee… please.”

  The dragon arched through the sky, soaring over Orbit and towards the archers. A stream of fire poured from its mouth. A chorus of screams reached the gnome’s ears as the fortification was swallowed in flames.

  “No! Damn overgrown lizard!” Orbit yelled. Leaning on the crossbow, the gnome warlord tried to rise, but his legs gave out again.

  Orbit almost dropped his weapon as his gaze fell upon another body. Though it was little more than ash, he still recognized the shape.

  “You damn fool… you should have run when Orbit told you to flee,” Orbit said, almost choking on his words. “You — you deserved to live. You had so much potential. Orbit was proud to be your teacher… but Orbit should have trained you better. You were not ready for this…”

  Orbit looked down at the crossbow.

  “Orbit is not ready for this.”

  He looked again towards the dragon; it circled in the sky above.

  “Come at Orbit, you foul beast! It is time for Orbit to slay you!”

  As if the dragon heard his words, it swerved in the air, beginning a descent towards him.

  “Orbit will not fall to you, dragon,” Orbit snarled, climbing to one knee and using the crossbow as a crutch. This time he was able to pull himself to his feet.

  The dragon drew closer; it roared and the ground shook in its wake.

  “You cannot kill Orbit more than you already have,” the gnome muttered raising the crossbow, “you may defeat Orbit, but Orbit will carry you to hell with him.”

  The dragon was now almost upon him. It opened its mouth, its throat glowing red.

  “Orbit has a present for you, bastard,” Orbit said, aiming the crossbow. “This is for Modrem.”

  Orbit fired his weapon, and then lowered it, shutting his eyes.

  The dragon roared, and then exhaled, submerging the gnome in fire.

  ~

  Vyra’s stomach clenched as she crossed through the royal passageway. The bloodied corpses of knights scattered the floor around her. The palace walls and statues on either side of her were splattered in red, and the bodies of several knights hung limply from the statues as if they had been violently propelled in that direction.

  What vicious power would do such a thing? Vyra thought.

  The sound of sobbing reached Vyra’s ears. A squire knelt beside the body of a fallen knight, weeping. She recognized the dead knight and the squire beside him immediately.

  Vyra approached the sobbing squire.

  “Are you injured?” Vyra asked formally.

  Maefus shook his head through the tears.

  “Has Lord Aldrean been here?” Vyra asked.

  The boy looked up at her. He had lines crossing his face, scars from their previous battle.

  “He — he has, he ran ahead to stop Eygodon,” Maefus stammered through his tears. “I heard shouts, then a terrifying laughter, then clashing of battle, but then… nothing. I — I’m too afraid to go in and check. If Lord Aldrean was defeated—”

  “Stay here,” Vyra said. “I will go in and check.”

  “But what are you going to do?” Maefus asked meekly, “Eygodon is the most powerful warlock in the whole realm, and you’re just a—”

  Maefus fell silent when Vyra stared down at him. He turned back to his dead master and continued whimpering.

  Without another word, Vyra walked to the threshold of the throne room.

  What am I? Vyra thought, staring into the darkness.

  A woman? she thought. The Silverclad Knights scoffed at her as she walked into Brightmeadow Manor’s barracks for the first time. The uneasiness of that day still lingered with her.

  A victim? she thought, shivering at the memory of almost drowning in the abandoned well, while hearing the terrors that lurked in the darkness above.

  A berserker? she thought, remembering the feeling of Maefus’s warm blood against her knuckles in the barrack arena.

&n
bsp; An outlaw? she thought, still feeling the dull pain from the arrow that struck her after she had defeated Radek.

  An adventurer? she thought, recalling the mystical mist owl when she first ventured through The Cinder Fields to see The Midnight Wolf. Not even a season later she was back in those fields, holding Maek and watching the sun rise. The memory brought deep warmth from the within her chest.

  A… knight? She thought, staring in silence into the darkness ahead.

  Vyra took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

  Chapter 8

  The throne room looked entirely different from the last time Vyra had last visited it. A faint reddish glow filtered in from the palace windows. Small fissures traced through the stone walls of the throne room like fiendish spider webs.

  So much destruction. What happened here? Vyra thought, her anxiety rising.

  Light trickled from the ceiling above, casting a ghostly circle of light around a body lying against the stone floor; a small pool of blood encircled him. Vyra immediately recognized who it was.

  “Aldrean!” Vyra’s voice echoed in the quiet room as she ran over to him.

  “We need to get you out of here,” she almost shouted as she examined his body. “You’ve lost a lot of blood!”

  “Well, well, we meet again. I didn’t expect to see you here,” a smooth but menacing voice drifted about the throne room. “Calling me for another wish already?”

  “You need to leave,” Aldrean choked the words out as he stared up at Vyra. “You need to run, before he gets you too.”

  “Aldrean, you’re not making any sense,” Vyra said, her face etched with confusion. “Who said that? Before who gets me?”

  “Nonsense. If I was interested in killing you, I would have done it when you were alone in the forest, with considerably less protection than you’re wearing right now,” the voice spoke again.

  “Who is that? Reveal yourself!” Vyra said, looking around. Her gaze slowly rose the darkened throne. A man rested upon its seat; his eyes were shrouded in shadow, but his sharp-toothed smile was visible under the glowing red light emanating from the gem hanging from his neck.