Amorlia

by Chris Wichtendahl

  All Fall Down

  Umbra raised her arms, and a massive tower rose up behind her. It was made from the remnants of the Ship of the Dead, as well as the rubble of the devastated street. At the center of the tower, visible through unbreakable glass, was the black lantern. The foul heart of the Nightwalker Queen beat in the howling mouth of the Mad Wizard’s head and the lantern pulsed out its steady symphony of hatred and malice. A door opened at the base of the tower, and the sound of heavy marching boots could be heard. “So, this,” Kael said, “could be bad.” “Think so?” the Dark Huntsman asked sardonically. As everyone watched, a horde of mechanical men rushed out of the tower to stand behind Umbra. They appeared to be corpses with bits of machinery grafted to them. They were hideous to look at, and more than a little frightening. “Like them?” Umbra asked, “I designed them myself. Do you remember the mechanics I attacked you with last time we had the chance to visit, little sister?” Artemis glared and said nothing. “Well,” Umbra continued, “I used parts from them, and combined them with a bunch of dead bodies I found lying around. Thanks to my Resurrection Engine,” she gestured at the tower behind her, “I’m able to rejoin the dead with their souls, using the mechanical parts as batteries. It’s a bit of a painful and disorienting procedure,” she admitted, “but I have to say it makes them awfully pliable. And Artemis,” she smirked, “there are plenty more where these came from.” The mechanical army marched forward, intending to overwhelm the forces that were hastily being assembled against them. Even those remaining Nazean soldiers had joined the rest, recognizing that Umbra was a threat to everyone, not just their ostensible enemies. The Dark Huntsman took aim at one of the lead monsters and fired. The bullet bounced harmlessly off one of the metal pieces. “Oh, lovely,” he said, “they’re bulletproof.” He turned to Artemis. “Any thoughts,” he asked, “or do we just wait for a miracle?” Suddenly, there was a wind. With the wind came a blur of color that enveloped the undead soldiers, and they all collapsed into piles of their component parts. The blur resolved itself into Pym, standing next to Artemis. He wiped his hands on her jacket. “Well,” he said, “that was disgusting.” He looked at Artemis and her companions, “Hey guys,” he said, “looks like I got here just in time to watch the world come to an end. Speaking of, did you know the Great Wood is on fire?” Artemis grinned and gave Pym a quick hug. She turned to the Dark Huntsman, “Wayen Zill, may I present Pym Kenar, Prince of Vega and resident timely miracle.” The Dark Huntsman gasped, “The Ghost Wind...” “Ah,” Pym smiled proudly, “a fan from the old days.” “Wait,” Artemis said, turning to face Pym, “did you say the Great Wood is on fire?” Pym nodded, “A veritable inferno. In fact, as I was running, I nearly scorched my--” “EXCUSE ME!” At the sound of Umbra’s voice, the ground in front of the four heroes exploded, throwing them backward. The dark goddess scowled at them, “Do you mind? I’d prefer you were paying attention as I brought your pathetic little world to its very overdue and brutally violent conclusion.” “She sounds mad,” Pym whispered to Artemis as he sat up, “Do you think it was something I did?” “Silence!” Umbra shouted, “Your interference was as useless as you are juvenile, speedster. Behold!” She gestured, and fresh mechanical corpses marched out of the tower, taking the place of the fallen. By this point, however, the troops had rallied. Heavy Nazean artillery had been brought in, and began shelling the tower and its defenders. Though the projectiles had no effect on the tower itself, handfuls of Umbra’s creations were destroyed by them. Then the foot soldiers got involved, engaging the monsters hand-to-hand. It was a losing battle, even with the big guns. So long as the tower functioned, it could create 10 replacements for every creature that fell. Kael, Wayen, Pym, Artemis thought to her companions, support our fighters against those things. I’ll handle Umbra. The men rushed to do as she bid, Kael pausing for a quick kiss. “You’ll ‘handle’ me, will you, little sister?” Umbra taunted. She gestured Artemis forward, “come on, then.” Artemis leapt at Umbra, sword in hand. The dark goddess knocked the sword out of Artemis’ hand and shattered the Monarch’s jaw with a single punch. Then she snapped Artemis’ arms, legs and spine before tossing her to the ground like a broken doll. Umbra laughed and thunder rumbled across the sky in response. “Who’s next?” she challenged. Breaking away from his many foes, Kael swooped in and gently lifted Artemis’ broken body from the ground, bearing her to the safety of the healers’ tent. Behind him, he heard Umbra’s sinister laughter echoing across the battlefield. When he landed, two healers of the Westwall Hunt rushed to his side, immediately beginning to work on the savaged Monarch. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she twitched, each breath coming in a ragged gasp. Kael stood by her side, tears streaming down his face. The Monga approached, laying a hand on his arm. “You have to return to the battle, Kael,” she said gently, “they need you down there.” “Artemis needs me here!” Kael pulled away from her. “No,” the Monga insisted, “she doesn’t. Unless you have healing gifts I’m not aware of, all you’re good for here is standing around and crying.” Kael rounded on her, eyes blazing. “Angry?” the Monga asked, meeting his gaze unflinching, “Then take it somewhere it will do some good.” She pointed to the battlefield, where her husband led a mixed group of warriors in an assault on the invading horde. “Umbra,” Kael said darkly. “Not Umbra,” the Monga insisted. “Focus on her abominations,” she unsheathed her sword, a grim light in her eyes, “I’ll deal with the Queen of the Underworld.” Umbra stood among the carnage as a cold rain began to fall from a dark sky. She laughed, reveling in her freedom and power. She hadn’t been this strong in over a full age of this wretched world. She looked around at the futilely struggling humans and sneered, “Is there no one among you fit to even challenge me?” “I am.” Umbra turned to see the Monga, and a cruel smile spread slowly across her face. ****** Up on the hill, Artemis came to in the healers’ tent, every single part of her screaming in pain. A healer rushed over, gently forcing her back down on the cot. “No, Monarch,” he said, “you must rest. Your body is whole again, but there will be pain for some time yet until you fully recover.” “No time,” Artemis grit her teeth through the pain as she stood. She stumbled once, then righted herself, “I have to stop Umbra.” The healer began to fuss, trying to get her to lay back down. “Monarch, please,” he said, “in your condition, you could barely fight me.” “We might be able to help you with that,” a voice said from the entrance. Artemis looked over to see Anton and Dru standing there, holding the flap open. She walked unsteadily toward them. “Show me,” she said. ****** On the battlefield, the Monga squared off against Umbra, the latter having produced a barbed spear seemingly from thin air. “Well, animal?” Umbra taunted, “do you truly believe you have what it takes to defeat me?” Without warning, the Monga swung her sword, slicing Umbra’s head from her shoulders. The dark goddess’ body fell to the ground next to it, and the Monga sheathed her sword. She smirked down at the twitching body of the former Queen of the Underworld. “Figure I do, at that.” She turned and began to walk away, not noticing Umbra pick up her head and seamlessly reattach it to her body. She only just had time to hear Jef call her name before she felt Umbra’s spear punch through her back and out her chest. Umbra leaned in close behind her, whispering in her ear, “I know what you’re thinking, primate. You’re thinking, ‘But I’m impervious to harm! How could this be happening?’” Umbra cackled and leaned closer, her breath hot on the Monga’s cheek, “I am a goddess, you fool. Your superhuman ‘powers’ mean nothing to me. I can-- what is so funny?” The Monga was laughing, though the sound was a rasping wheeze. A bubble of blood burst on her lips and she turned her head as much as she was able to face her killer. “I w-wasn’t thinking that,” she coughed, “I was... was thinking, ‘Wow, so that’s what that feels like’.” She smirked at Umbra as she felt herself fade, “Y-you know, you’re n-not that sc-scary. Juh-just pathetic. I h-hope Artemis... tuh- takes her time w-with you.” Then, with her final breath, she spat a mouthful of blood in Umbr
a’s face. Enraged, Umbra tore the spear from her body, growling as the Monga’s limp form fell to the ground. She turned away as Jef rushed over, howling in grief, to gather his wife’s body in his arms. Umbra walked back toward the tower, absently killing people as she went, until she was brought up short by a load roar. Sa’raa stood before her in feline form, then changed to her human self before leaping at her enemy with her blades drawn. Umbra shattered the blades with a wave of her hand and caught the young werecat by the throat. “Well,” she said, her lip curling, “who might you be?” ****** “We call it God Armor,” Anton explained, opening the large wooden case in the back of the wagon. Artemis sat on the floor, holding her side and panting. The beating she’d taken had wiped her out. If she didn’t find an advantage, she was going to be useless. “Did you build it?” she asked. Dru shook his head. “Not exactly,” he explained, “We put it together, out of parts we found in the ruins of the Mad Wizard’s lair.” “You’ve been to the Mad Wizard’s lair?” “Uh,” Anton looked around, “maybe.” “Don’t tell our mother,” Dru whispered. “Or our father,” Anton added. “Or the Ki-Mon,” Dru amended, “or Colyn.” “Trae would probably be mad too,” Anton suggested. Artemis held up her hands, “Your secret is safe, boys,” she assured them, “Now, do you know how it works?” “Oh, definitely,” Anton said, pulling out an ornate helmet, “As we were putting it together, an idea of its function kind of came to us. We’ve figured out that it runs on pure Spark, and enhances the wearer’s superhuman abilities to an infinite degree.” “The problem is,” Dru chimed in, “that the amount of Spark needed to run it completely depletes the average superhuman’s powers.” “That’s for sure,” Anton chuckled, “Remember what happened when I tried it on?” Dru laughed, “He was out cold for three days.” “So, who can wear it?” Artemis asked, examining the helmet. “Well,” Dru said, “that’s why we called it God Armor. We figured only a god would have the level of Spark needed to make it work.” “Or,” Anton suggested with a sly smile, “half a god.” “Plus, there’s this,” Dru pointed to the crystal in Artemis’ forehead. “What about it?” Artemis reached up to touch it. “We think that crystal can tap directly into the source of the Spark, giving you more than enough to power the Armor,” Anton said, “That’s how the crystal is able to open the doors between worlds.” He shrugged, “At least, in theory.” Dru took the helmet back from Artemis, pointing inside it. “See this little indentation here?” he directed her attention to a slot just above the opening for her face, “We built that in while we were putting the Armor together.” “I think we were meant to build this, Artemis,” Anton said, “I think we were meant to build it for you.” ****** Umbra dropped Sa’raa to the ground, towering over the grief-stricken girl. “I know who you are,” she said, “you’re one of that dead savage’s little whelps, aren’t you?” She crouched down and looked into Sa’raa’s tear-filled eyes, as the young girl sobbed on hands and knees in the torrential rain. “Grief, sadness, despair, anger,” Umbra chanted, “all these things and more are what you feel now. I’ll bet you think you’ll never know what it’s like to be free of them,” she smiled, “That may be true, child, but I’ll bet I can make you feel worse.” Umbra stood and snapped her fingers. Immediately, Naatem and Frankl stood before her. She reached out and placed her hands atop their heads, turning them to face Sa’raa, who looked up in horror. “No,” she whispered, “oh, please, don’t.” “One of these men,” Umbra said, “is going to die.” She licked her lips, “But I’ll let you decide which one.” “It’s okay, Sa’raa,” Frankl said, “you can pick me. Pick me and have what happiness you can with Naatem.” “No, Sa’raa,” Naatem said, “I’ll go. Frankl is your brother, your blood kin. You can’t choose him.” Umbra laughed with pure delight, “Oh, such nobility! Such sacrifice!” She looked down at Sa’raa, “What a lucky girl you are. Well,” she said, “that’s both boys heard from. Now,” her eyes turned cold, “choose.” Sa’raa’s body heaved with her sobs as she looked from her brother to her lover then down at the ground. She shook her head, “No!” she cried, “I can’t! Please don’t make me--” She looked up at the sound of two loud snaps. Umbra let the bodies of Frankl and Naatem fall, their heads twisted completely around. “You seemed to be having some trouble choosing,” she said idly, “so I just went ahead and killed them both.” She sneered down at Sa’raa, who had crawled forward to fall across the bodies of her men. “Decide faster next time,” the dark goddess spat. She crouched down again, pulling Sa’raa’s head up by her hair. “Why are you doing this to me?” Sa’raa cried. “Because,” Umbra explained, “despair, anger, fury and grief are my meat and milk. I thrive on them, darling.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice became deadly quiet. “And you have so much.” She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “In fact,” she said, “I want to feed on your delicious misery for some time. So,” she kissed Sa’raa gently, then stood. Looking down, she said, “Congratulations, child. You are now immortal. Let’s see what I can glean from you after all those terrible feelings have festered for a few thousand years.” Then, she walked away, calling back as she went, “Be seeing you.” Sa’raa lay huddled over her brother and the greatest love of her life, her tears mixing with the cold rain that pooled beneath their bodies. Her heart felt gripped in a cold hand, and she knew she would never again feel joy. Kitten. She looked up, and standing before her was Loki, one of the giant cats. She looked past him and saw the others. Phoebe was not among them, and she knew that Loki must be their ruler now. Come, he said. “I can’t,” she sobbed, gesturing to the bodies on the ground, “Naatem... Frankl...” They are gone, kitten. Your tears will not bring them back. Come. “Where?” She was kneeling now, not quite ready to stand. We are finished here, Loki told her. Tooth and claw are no match for men of metal. We will return to our home in the Wild Lands, and you will accompany us. “Why?” Your heart is broken, little one, Loki’s mental voice was soft, almost a purr, Walk among the cats a while and we will teach you how to fix it. Become your cat self, and leave the world of humans behind. One day, you will return, and bring to them the wisdom of the cats. Until then, their troubles are no longer yours. Come. Sa’raa looked down at Frankl and Naatem. She gently touched Frankl’s cheek and kissed Naatem one last time. Then, without rising, she became a cat, walking slowly to join Loki and his tribe. Silently, they left the field of battle, vanishing into the heavy mist. Sa’raa did not look back. Umbra was almost to the tower, enjoying the sight of her undead soldiers laying waste to the pathetic human army. Kael fought valiantly against a score of foes, but even his great strength was beginning to wane. Next to him, the Dark Huntsman held a broken arm close to his body with a sling made from strips of his tattered cloak. Pym huddled at their feet, his legs broken. He vibrated uncontrollably as he desperately tried to use his speed to knit his shattered bones together. A loud booming sound made her look around. A golem was charging across the field, smashing great handfuls of her mechanical men and crushing them beneath its massive feet. She was about to strike the behemoth down when she saw a tall muscular blonde woman striding toward her through the rain. Umbra sneered. “Ah,” she said derisively, “if it isn’t the Numeromancer. Come to avenge your sad little family?” Trae’s face was grim, her voice a low growl, “No,” she said, “though they will be avenged. I am here to spring a trap.” “Oh, a trap!” Umbra clapped her hands mockingly, “I suppose you have a bunch of meaningless numbers to throw at me?” Trae said nothing, simply staring. “Well,” Umbra laughed, “don’t keep me in suspense!” Trae began to softly count backwards, “5... 4... 3... 2... 1...” Suddenly, Umbra had an inkling of what Trae was up to, but by then it was too late. Trae smiled, pointing to the tower, “Zero.” Inside the black lantern, the head of the Mad Wizard exploded. Trae’s countdown had activated a device of her brothers’ design they’d hidden inside the head before Carola had come to steal it. The force of the explosion caused Umbra’s Resurrection Engine to crumble and fall, leaving nothing but a smoking pile of ru
bble. Umbra screamed, grabbing Trae by the shirtfront. “You filthy ape- spawned wretch! Do you know what you’ve done?!” Trae continued to smile, “Of course I do, you great stupid whore. I’ve ruined everything.” “Filth!” Umbra screamed. “I’ll strip the flesh from you as you watch! I’ll create demons just to feed on your soul! I’ll--” “You’ll put her down now, Umbra, and face me. This is between us.” Umbra turned to see Artemis. The Monarch of Vega was garbed in ornate silver armor. Intricate designs etched on its surface glowed blue, as did her eyes. A triple moon symbol on the helmet blazed white. She held the sword of Nazeas in her hand, and energy sparked and crackled along its length. Artemis made a gesture, and Trae was thrown clear. Then she stared hard at her unholy sibling. “Let us finish it now,” she commanded.