by Ben Hale
Alydian saw the next several moments and a glimpse of what came after. She swerved and twisted, banking to avoid the vengeful flames to reach the position she’d foreseen—and then attacked. Frost breath exploded from her maw and struck the phoenix in the chest, slamming her into the cliff above Verisith.
Alydian landed on a rooftop, her claws digging into the stone as she intensified the cold, burning the phoenix’s body, freezing the fireflesh, fusing the bird to the wall. She smiled, sensing the triumph, but the momentary pride blocked her hope, and she missed the sight of Teriah dropping out of the entity and landing on a rooftop. From there she unleashed a strike of red lightning.
Alydian cried out as the lightning rent her dragon, the charge rippling through her body and shredding the magic. Her dragon burst apart, and she fell in a rain of electrified water and a gust of air. Her body twitching from the power, she landed in the tiny pool of water in the street.
Every muscle spasmed and she fought to drag herself away from Teriah. Verinai huddled in doorways and alleys, hiding from the carnage of the oracle duel, their faces filled with fear. She expected them to come for her but they remained in place, their gaze on Teriah descending behind Alydian.
The flames had partially destroyed the city and a blacksmith shop had seen half its structure caved in. Alydian dragged herself through the gap and leaned against the anvil. But Teriah landed on the street and limped forward. She kicked the door open and stood, lightning and the dark storm framing her in the opening.
“Your agony will be endless,” she snarled.
Red lightning still sparked across her body, but it had been dimmed by the frost gathered on her leg and arm. Like a beast gone mad, she limped into the blacksmith shop and conjured a glittering sword from the fading light.
“Or perhaps I’ll just take your head.”
She brought down the blade and Alydian instinctively raised her arm. The blade struck Alydian’s right arm, the blade breaking against the enchantments infused into her flesh. The upper half flipped into the anvil, cleaving it in two like it was made of butter.
Teriah stared at the broken blade but Alydian conjured her own sword and struck Teriah’s blade from her hand. Before Alydian could press the advantage Teriah flicked her hands and cast whips of red lightning.
Alydian stood her ground and conjured a hammer of light. Then she dipped into her farsight and the hammer turned purple, showing where the hammer would be. She ducked a whip and swung, driving Teriah back.
Her hammer and the whips destroyed the walls of the blacksmith shop, sending metal tools clattering into the street. Deep in her magic, she evaded the powerful blows and used her hammer to keep Teriah at bay.
“My friends will find the runestone,” she growled. “They will stop your army.”
Teriah snapped a whip and issued a mocking laugh. “They will find nothing. After Master Skerl created the runestone I transferred the link to my life. Only when I die will your precious commoners regain their memories.”
Alydian gave a savage smile. “That was the opportunity I sought. Mother?”
Elenyr exploded from the ground and drove her sword into Teriah’s back. Teriah shrieked in mortal pain, her rage abandoning her like a coward, the red fading from her flesh and leaving her empty. In a flurry of sparks, her whips disintegrated.
She collapsed to the floor as Raiden alighted in the street. Teriah gathered a burst of magic but he leapt through the opening and destroyed the effort with his sword. Then Teriah slumped, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“You cannot stop rage . . .” she pointed her hand at Alydian, but Devkin stepped into the room and caught her final blast of power on his anti-magic sword.
“I think we just did,” he replied.
Her muscles still twitching, Alydian caught the edge of the anvil and stepped around it. “Rage has no power against a perfect hope.”
“You will pay for your betrayal,” Teriah said, her voice fading.
“Your tyranny has been cast down,” Elenyr said. “No one will even remember your name.”
Teriah’s features tightened, and then relaxed in death. Then an orange light gathered around her body, brightening to blinding. Alydian made to shield her arm but the light burst outward, expanding at an impossible speed before it disappeared.
They all staggered and Alydian reached to her heart, where a strange hook she hadn’t noticed suddenly evaporated. Raiden smiled, his expression one of relief. “The people’s loyalty has been returned to them,” he said.
Marrow appeared in the doorway and clutched her side. Panting from her effort to reach the conflict, she spotted Teriah’s body and grunted in irritation.
“Did I miss it?”
Raiden twitched. “She says yes.”
Alydian laughed, the sound washing over the group like a healing balm. “Then the war is over,” she said.
Chapter 48: Unshackled
Toron stepped away from Elsin’s body and embraced Winter, the relief of the moment palpable. He’d loved Elsin, but that emotion had perished long before she did. As if sensing his turmoil, Winter murmured in his ear.
“I’m sorry.”
“She made her choice,” he said quietly.
Then he remembered Galathon and pulled away. Taking her hand, he hurried across the chamber to where the rock troll was slumped against the far wall. He was alive, but the damage had been done.
“I’ll find a healer,” Winter said.
“Don’t bother,” the rock troll said, his voice raspy. “I’ve fought my final battle.”
“And made your final kill,” Toron said
His laugh ended in a cough. “It is fitting.”
Toron inclined his head in respect. The troll had lived a brutal life, but in his final hours he’d fought with the rebellion against the Empire. Toron could not have triumphed alone, and the troll had lost his reaver and his life.
“You have my respect,” Winter said.
His voice failing, Galathon managed one last request. “Tell Alydian her mother was right. I died with honor.”
The troll closed his eyes and his body sagged. Toron turned to Winter, for the first time aware of the sounds of battle waging outside the fortress. The proximity indicated the Empire had nearly broken through the pitfalls in Horizon, and when they reached the walls of Dawnskeep the rebellion would fall.
“It appears Alydian failed,” Winter said.
“Do you regret your choice?” he asked, and noticed he still held her hand.
She offered a faint smile and looked up to him. “I may have hated Elsin, but I didn’t just choose the rebellion. I chose you.”
“Why did you not speak before?” he asked.
“I did not know if my sentiments were reciprocated,” she said.
“They are.”
He pulled her into a kiss. The soft contact quickly grew ardent. Then Toron heard a change in the sounds of battle and they parted, both looking upward. They exchanged a look and then sprinted up the stairs, reaching the courtyard to find the sounds of combat had changed. Instead of the clash of steel and screams of the dying, the shouts carried the tinge of surprise and alarm.
Spotting Astin and Ora on the battlements, Toron hurried up to join them. Full night had fallen but fires burned in Horizon, the flames rising from shattered and broken titans. The already damaged city was all but demolished, with the remaining structures reduced to scorched and burning rubble.
Astin heard their approach and turned. “Elsin?” he asked.
“Dead,” Toron said.
Ora breathed a sigh of relief, the expression tinged with hope. “The Empire’s reserves have rioted and attacked the Empire.”
“Alydian,” Winter breathed.
“She broke the curse,” Ora said, and gestured to the area outside Horizon. “See for yourself.”
Toron cast his gaze beyond Horizon and saw the Empire forces dissolving into chaos, the soldiers turning on each other with a vengeance. Many of the Empire soldier
s had thrown their weapons to the ground and retreated, and the call to surrender spread across the army.
The Empire soldiers in the city noticed the loss of their army and their courage wavered. With just a few thousand Verinai remaining, they cast about, their uncertainty causing them to hesitate. Noticing the moment, Astin gestured to Ora.
“They need a leader,” he said, inclining his head. “And you are the princess of Griffin.”
“Together?” she asked, extending a hand.
He smiled. “Always.”
Winter withdrew a stone from a pouch at her side and handed it to them. “Verinai masters use this to be heard when training,” she said. “I think it’s only fitting you use it to call for their surrender.”
Ora nodded and pressed the rune on the stone. When she spoke, her voice washed over the battlefield like thunder, the words causing all to turn toward Dawnskeep.
“Guildmaster Elsin has fallen,” she said. “And your curse has broken. I call on the Empire to surrender.”
“You lie!” a Verinai nearby shouted.
Toron held aloft the amplious gauntlets, and Astin gestured to them. “We speak the truth. Your forces are outnumbered and your leaders have perished. Your guild has fallen. Your Empire has fallen.”
Ora swept her hand to them. “Throw down your weapons and extinguish your magic. Do it and we will find you a cell. Do it not . . . and we will find you a grave.”
The Verinai looked to their surviving high captains. Some stood just feet from Paladins, and weapons remained at the ready. Then the Empire soldiers began to drop their weapons. Steel clattered to the ground and magic went dark, the mages reluctantly extinguishing their spells. The decision spread across the battlefield around the city.
The Verinai in the city shifted uncertainly, until finally a master growled and dismissed his entities. He was too far for Toron to hear the words, but his look of disgust was apparent. Those around him surrendered as well, and in a wave of movement, the rest of the Verinai followed his example.
“It’s over,” Ora breathed, and jumped as she apparently forgot her voice was magnified.
Astin raised his voice. “Many traps lurk beneath your feet. Our forces will aid the Verinai to depart and assemble on the western hills. Healers from both sides will assist the wounded. General Shalric, dismantle the traps and clear them a path.”
“And to all those who hear my voice,” Ora said, her voice rising with triumph. “Welcome back to Griffin.”
The subsequent cheer was thunderous, the cry reverberating off the neighboring hills as the people voiced their joy. After a year and a half under the Empire, the sound washed over the battlefield like a cleansing wave, thousands of voices blending with the same emotion.
Victory.
Chapter 49: Peace
Leaving the destroyed Verisith behind, Alydian and her friends set their journey for Dawnskeep. A peek into the future was enough to reveal what awaited them, and for the first time in years, Alydian felt peace.
She spent much of her time with Raiden, and the others discreetly gave them space. Sitting around a campfire with no threat of conflict instilled a sense of hope and freedom. They mourned their losses, and Alydian tried not dwell on the fact that she was the sole remaining oracle. But for the weeklong journey back to Dawnskeep, she managed to just be Alydian.
When they reached the battlefield they found a sprawling camp on the hill north of the fortress. The city was in ruins, with portions of the fallen titans still burning. Horizon was hardly recognizable, with just one building remaining standing. The solitary home sat in the midst of rubble and gaping holes, the walls and ceiling miraculously unscathed after the battle.
Alydian’s gaze was drawn to Dawnskeep. Some of the walls had survived but others were damaged beyond repair. Cracks and rents lined the battlements, some still glowing with latent magic.
As much as was possible, the dead had been removed from the city, with a graveyard a mile away. Knots of individuals stood around the graves, mourning the loss of their loved ones. From the distance it was impossible to tell if they were Empire or Rebellion.
“It appears we’ve been noticed,” Raiden said, gesturing to the approaching riders.
“Can we not go back to being alone?” she asked with a sigh.
“No,” he said, and his fingers intertwined with hers. “But come what may, we’ll be together.”
“A future to look forward to,” she said, smiling at him.
“You two are adorable,” Elenyr said.
“You have to say that,” Marrow said. “You’re the mother.”
Elenyr laughed. “In case it wasn’t clear, my part in the victory must remain secret.”
“They wouldn’t believe a hauntress from the grave assisted in our triumph,” Marrow said.
Elenyr raised an eyebrow. “Hauntress?”
“You’re not going to retire,” Marrow said matter-of-factly. “But the people you aid will come to fear you.” She snorted. “She likes you, though.”
Elenyr laughed. “All I know is that my future is my own.”
“Goodbye, mother,” Alydian said, embracing her.
“I’ll see you soon,” Elenyr replied, and then moved to embrace Raiden. “Treat her well, or you’ll answer to me.”
He laughed. “I swear it.”
Marrow pouted. “She doesn’t want you to go.”
“I know,” Elenyr said. “But you have a family now, and so does she.”
“Just so long as she doesn’t visit my head again,” Raiden said fervently.
Marrow giggled. “She didn’t care for the reek.”
Alydian smiled at the memory of Marrow regaining her second mind. Once outside of Verisith she’d instructed Raiden to strike her, an act he’d been reluctant to do. After some goading he finally slapped the girl, returning the mind to Marrow. She’d been so happy to be reunited she’d burned Raiden’s boots right off his feet, leaving him standing in a cloud of smoke.
Elenyr gave Marrow a warm embrace. “You and she are like daughters,” she said. “I will see you again.”
Marrow smiled. “If you don’t she will find you.”
Elenyr laughed again and then nodded to them, then phased to ethereal and dropped into the earth. Alydian watched her go with a trace of regret, but also hope. Her mother had carried a burden for nearly a thousand years, and for the first time, she seemed unfettered.
The riders proved to be Princess Ora and Astin, along with Jester and Red. All bore scars of the battle at Dawnskeep, but the reunion was joyful. As they made their way down the slope Winter and Toron also rode to greet them.
“You could have told us they arrived,” Toron said, dismounting to embrace his sister.
“They arrived!” Jester said brightly.
Alydian laughed with the others and they descended to the camp. As news spread of Alydian’s arrival thousands came to witness her return, flocking to the area outside the camp to wave and call out to the oracle that had defied the Empire.
The weight of her birthright returned anew, but this time Alydian did not fear the mantle. She smiled and greeted them all, taking much of the day to pass through the throng. Dinner was declared to be a feast, and the lavish meal was given to all, even the imprisoned Verinai.
Tales were shared on all sides and laughter rang across the hills, passing over the battlefield that lay silent. Alydian spotted Duke Senin casting dark looks at Ora, and recognized the sparks of a new struggle. Between courses she dipped into her farsight to see that the next few weeks would be rife with conflict.
Although the Empire had been cast down, it had endured long enough that the people were divided. Some were angry the Empire had fallen, while others wanted Duke Senin to be the new king. The man claimed that he’d merely feigned succumbing to the plague in order to stay with his men, and the moment the curse had been lifted he’d led them into battle.
While his claim could not be verified, he had fought with valor, contributing signifi
cantly to the Empire’s surrender at Dawnskeep. Many of the former Griffin soldiers had witnessed his valiance, and had not seen Ora’s effort in the fortress.
In the first test of her mantle as solitary oracle, Alydian helped Ora and Senin come to terms. It took all of her patience to keep them from going to war, but ultimately she convinced Ora to hold to her oath. Griffin was fractured in two, with Senin taking possession of the east and Ora becoming queen of the west. She named her new kingdom Talinor after her father.
Alydian foresaw decades of enmity between the two kingdoms, but it was better than the years of bloodshed it would take for one to conquer the other. Indeed, chances were Senin would have been the victor, and Ora’s bloodline would have perished.
Several times she considered the option to force Senin to abandon his claim, but doing so would have turned her into Teriah, and she’d learned enough from her mother to understand her role. Senin and Ora must resolve their own conflict, and Alydian could only offer guidance and advice.
The one point they all agreed on was that Dawnskeep and Horizon should be covered up, and the forest of Orláknia extended over. The Mage Wars had cost every nation, and none wanted the reminder.
The Verinai were tasked with covering Horizon, a feat that took a year. The mighty guild had lost the most of any, and just a few thousand remained. Those most loyal to Elsin’s ideals were imprisoned in Margauth, while those that showed remorse and forsook the guild received lesser punishments.
As time passed one thing was certain, the Verinai were no more. Those with multiple magics were born less and less, and it became clear the Verinai were a dying breed. The kingdoms took the change in stride, with much of the populace merely grateful for the end of the Mage War. The Verinai were relegated to myth and legend.
Chapter 50: Healed
Alydian cast her magic into the flowers and watched them bloom. Then she stood and stretched, pausing to admire her new home. Fashioned from a collection of magically grown trees, the structure intertwined the massive trunks into a single, graceful refuge. She could have gone anywhere, but she’d chosen to build the new seat of the oracle just a few miles from the buried Dawnskeep, a strategic location that put her between Griffin and Talinor, and next to the elves.