by Aaron Hodges
Yet even that was not the worst of it.
Screams echoed up from below him, the cries of the injured and dying rising through the floorboards. They had been carrying them down throughout the battle, clearing the wall for fresh defenders. Some had even brought themselves, hobbling down on shattered legs or cradling broken limbs.
They had set up a makeshift hospital in the large hall beside the mess hall to treat the worst of the injured, to stabilise them before moving them to the main infirmary inside the keep. Gabriel had stumbled down earlier, desperate to make a difference, but the cacophony of sound and smell had driven him back.
Never before had he felt so powerless, so helpless to aid his friends.
And still the whispers would not stop.
You can help them, Gabriel, the voice came from the shadows. In the corner of his eye, Gabriel could glimpse the demon, the flickering of ghosts whirling around it. But he refused to face it, to acknowledge its presence. You could be more powerful than you ever dreamed.
Gabriel closed his eyes, struggling to ignore the words. They clawed at him, dragging hooks of guilt through his soul. Could he truly help them? Could he use that sword and use it to drive back the enemy?
“No,” he growled to himself. “It lies. You know what it is, what it wants!”
I want nothing, the demon’s voice came again. You are my child, Gabriel, do you not see? I only wish to free you.
“I am no child of yours, demon!” Gabriel finally swung to face the creature.
The demon emerged from the shadows, its slow, gliding movements revealing its insubstantial form. The strength fled Gabriel’s legs as he watched it approach. He sank to his knees and looked up into the pale face of the demon. Death hung around the thing like a cloak, drawing the life from him.
It seemed more solid now, more powerful. As though it had fed, had grown stronger.
I only wish to help you, Gabriel, to give you strength. Do you not wish to aid your comrades?
Gabriel shuddered as the creature reached down and grasped his shoulder. Its touch felt like ice, its chill spreading out to engulf him. Tears ran down his face and he felt the darkness inside him rising from where he had banished it. This time, desperate and alone, he could not find the strength to fight it.
The shadow leaned closer, until the deathly lips were an inch from his ear. You know who you are, Gabriel, what you must do. Return to the girl’s room and take up the Soul Blade. Only it can give you the strength you need. Go!
Hot tears burned in his eyes as Gabriel found himself standing. The darkness spread out within him, pushing him back, swamping him. He faced the creature one last time, looked into the infinite depths of those black eyes. But there was no breaking its spell now, and with a twist of terror he found himself turning and walking from the room.
Somewhere below, the Soul Blade waited for him.
Fourteen
The slow thump of Gabriel’s boots on the wooden stairs echoed in the narrow space. The descent seemed to take an age, though less than a minute had passed since the demon had come. Gabriel’s head burned as he struggled to stop himself, but each thump brought him one step closer to the Soul Blade, closer to some dark fate he could only imagine.
The darkness within him swirled, rejoicing at its triumph, and Gabriel felt himself slipping away. He struggled against the emotions rising within him, the rage and hate he had thought long buried. Greed coloured his thoughts, and a desire rose in his chest, a craving for the power offered by the Soul Blade. He closed his eyes, trying to deny the darkness within.
But he could not close it off any longer, could not control it.
Then he was standing within Enala’s room, crossing to where a burlap sack lay carelessly discarded at the foot of the bed. He could feel the power radiating from within the sack, the aching taint of the Soul Blades. Reaching down, Gabriel upended the contents onto the floor.
The Soul Blades tumbled out, their blue and green glow spilling across the room. Gabriel staggered backwards as a tingle of fear caught him, cutting through the hate and greed. For a second he stood frozen, the dark and the light warring within.
But fear alone was not enough. The darkness roared and his soul shrank, retreating back to the depths of his conscious. With a long sigh, he straightened and stepped towards the swords.
The blue glow of Jurrien’s Soul Blade washed across the room, beckoning him. Voices whispered their warning in his mind, but the call of the blade was everything now. He was beyond reason, beyond thought. He shivered, his skin tingling with the power of the sword.
All the power of the Sky lay at his fingertips; the very magic Eric had used to destroy his life.
A dark grin crossed Gabriel’s lips as he reached for the Soul Blade.
“Gabriel!” Enala’s shriek pierced the mist around his thoughts.
Gabriel looked up, eyes widening to see Enala standing in the doorway. Blood stained her clothing and her hair hung limp across her eyes. Brown and red streaks marked her skin, but there was no mistaking the fear on her face.
“What are you doing?” she stared, mouth agape, fingers hovering on the hilt of her sword.
“I – I –” Gabriel looked from her to the Soul Blade, but whatever hold the demon had over him, Enala’s presence had not freed him. He felt tears sting his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he breathed.
Then he lunged forward and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the Soul Blade. A surge of energy raced up his arm as he lifted it. He stiffened as the power reached his chest, the blue fire burning down to his very core. His fingers clenched tight to the hilt of the Soul Blade, locking it in an iron grip. From somewhere far away, he heard a girl scream.
A grin pulled at Gabriel’s lips as the power spread and a euphoric joy lit his mind, banishing doubt and fear. He had never felt such power, such strength.
His eyes opened and Gabriel found himself looking out at the world through a haze of blue. Energy crackled in the air, the raw potential of the Sky begging to be unleashed. He had only to wish it, and he could use its power to wipe the fortress from existence. Winds would tear the stones from the walls and lightning would fall from above, burning rock and steel alike to ash.
A mad smile split his lips. Reaching out, he touched a swirling ring of light. Thunder boomed as lightning materialised within the room. The blue threads of power crackled and danced across the wooden floorboards. A shriek came from somewhere and he turned to see a figure flee through the open door.
A trickle of regret touched him, quickly gone, and then there was only the magic of the Soul Blade, the thrill of its power.
Gabriel, the voice was so soft, so faint he would not have heard it if not for the shiver it sent through his soul. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the whisper, but a part of him clung to it, to the comfort of the voice. It hung in stark contrast to the demon’s whispers.
Yet the room was empty, his only company the roar of lightning and the crackle of flames now licking the walls. Slowly, the feeling fell away, tumbling back into the depths within. A dark joy throbbed in his head as the magic filled him. It raced through his mind, burning away thought and reason, and Gabriel felt himself slipping away.
Looking down, he watched lightning take form in his hands, crackling between his fingertips. His fingers clenched as though by a will of their own, and Gabriel suddenly felt like a spectator in his own body. His throat quivered as laughter filled the room.
Gabriel, this is not your destiny, the voice came again, stronger now.
A growl rose from Gabriel’s chest as his eyes searched the room. He spun, throwing out his arms. Lightning leapt outwards, catching on the bed, the wardrobe, the walls. It raged around him, burning away the meagre contents of Enala’s room.
“Where are you?” he raged.
Someplace you can never harm me, sadness touched the voice.
The voice cut through the power, finding Gabriel deep within his conscious. A tingle of recognition touched him and he clung
to the words, pulling himself back towards the light. He struggled to remember the speaker, but his memories came in bursts now, burned away by the throb of magic.
“Who are you?” words grated from his mouth in a metallic screech.
Gabriel’s eyes slid to the Soul Blade, fighting the pull of the magic. The veins of his arm stood out stark against his skin, glowing blue in the light of the sword. But he saw now the colour of the Soul Blade had changed, the blue of the Sky tainted by darkness.
And still the power raced up his arm, crashing upon his consciousness, pushing him down.
What is happening to me? He screamed in his mind, his jaw clamped shut, locked by the forces surging within him.
It will take you, Gabriel, the voice came again, a desperate edge to its tone. Unless you let me help you.
How? Gabriel could feel himself teetering on the edge, an infinite precipice dangling beneath him.
Relax your mind, and let me in, the voice demanded.
Gabriel swallowed, struggling to breathe as energy crackled in his chest. The God magic was everywhere now, burning, crackling, overwhelming. He fought it still, desperate to break free. Slowly the voice’s command seeped through to him.
No, Gabriel cried into the emptiness within. I will be lost.
It is the only way.
Shuddering, Gabriel felt the magic welling again, the power gathering to sweep him away. Unable to fight any longer, Gabriel succumbed to the voice’s command, and let go.
As his mind relaxed, a brilliant flash erupted behind his eyes. He felt the God power flee before it, racing back into the darkness of the Soul Blade, and then the world turned white.
For a long time Gabriel drifted, his mind afloat on the empty white. He knew he was lost, adrift in a foreign land, but somehow he could not find the will to care. He felt no worry, no dark touch of emotion to colour his thoughts. There was only the light, the unending space. It had been a long time since he’d felt such peace.
Closing his eyes, Gabriel gave himself to the feeling.
“Gabriel,” it was the voice again, calm now, the panic gone.
Reluctantly, Gabriel opened his eyes to search out the source. The absolute white still stretched out in every direction, but he was no longer alone. A man walked towards him, striding through the emptiness as though a bricked path lay beneath his booted feet. He wore a blue shirt and tight black pants in the fashion of a sailor, though his white hair was well kept and his face clean-shaven. His ice blue eyes found Gabriel’s, and held them.
“Jurrien”, he whispered, remembering the God from the battle in Sitton. “What happened? How are you here?”
Jurrien’s face darkened. “What one might expect, when someone without magic tangles with such an artefact. You have no power of your own, Gabriel, not even a touch of magic waiting to be born. Without it, your body had no defence against the magic within the Soul Blade.”
Gabriel shuddered. “Enala… the same thing happened to her when she touched the other blade. But Antonia did not come to her. Why?”
Jurrien frowned. “I do not know. I cannot sense much of the outside world; only what the wielder of the Soul Blade allows. But I have been saving my strength, preparing myself for a moment when I might be needed. When I felt the God magic taking you I thought it would be best to intervene. But my power is all but spent now…”
“Antonia had already come once, for Eric,” Gabriel breathed. “She had nothing left to save Enala.”
“Ay, my sister has always had a soft spot for the descendants of Aria’s line. I cannot imagine her willingly sitting by while one of Aria’s children was lost to her God magic.”
Gabriel smiled. “Thank you, Jurrien. I hope you don’t come to regret using your strength to save me. But you will not be in here much longer. The fortress’ Magickers are working on a way to free you from the Soul Blade.”
“They will not succeed. Not unless…” the God trailed off, then waved a hand. “No, our bodies have been destroyed, returned to the earth as we have returned to spirit. We are Gods no longer.”
Despair touched Gabriel then, seeping up from wherever his body lay back in reality. “But we need you, Jurrien. We cannot defeat Archon without you.”
“You will find a way. You humans have never ceased to amaze us, even when we watched you only as spirits.”
“How?” Gabriel shook his head. “Archon is too powerful.”
Jurrien only smiled. “Together. You will defeat him together, Gabriel. The Three Nations joined as one.”
Gabriel’s shoulders slumped as he looked into the God’s icy eyes. “We cannot leave you here, trapped forever,” he looked around “Wherever here is.”
“This is the spirit realm, of sorts,” Jurrien answered. “Though it has been warped, a part of it twisted and broken off into the Soul Blade, ensuring a spirit can never truly depart.”
“Am I trapped here too then?” Gabriel swallowed at the thought.
“No,” Jurrien shook his head. “You are not truly here. Your body still waits for you back in Fort Fall. I only brought your spirit here to protect it from the God magic.”
Gabriel breathed a long sigh. “Thank you, Jurrien. Thank you for sacrificing the last of your strength to save me,” he paused, sensing the God still held something back. “Are you sure we cannot free you?”
Jurrien smiled. “Forget us, Gabriel. Our time is done. We cannot return, not without sacrificing more than I am prepared to ask. I will offer you only this: if the time comes when you have nowhere left to turn, nowhere to run, look again to the Soul Blade. The answer will come to you then,” the God raised his hand. “Farewell, Gabriel.”
Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but Jurrien was already fading, the white world falling away.
*************
Enala’s heart raced as she fled the room, the mad laughter of her friend chasing after her. A boom came from behind, followed by a wave of heat. She spun around a corner and leapt for the stairwell, thumping down the wooden steps as flames licked at her heels.
Another boom shook the air and a wave rippled down the stairs, shattering the boards beneath her feet. She stumbled on a jagged edge and went tumbling down the last flight, arms raised to protect herself. Then she was up, swinging herself into the corridor and racing for the outer doors.
Other men and women filled the hall, stumbling towards the exit, the healthy carrying the injured. Most of the army remained on the wall awaiting the next attack though, and Enala realised there were not enough able-bodied to carry all the wounded. Panic gripped her chest as another roar came from overhead.
Racing outside, Enala spun to face the building. Flames poured from the upstairs windows and thick smoke stained the sky. A crash came from inside as walls began to collapse. The blaze was spreading far too quickly – the building would collapse long before it could be evacuated.
Enala cursed her hesitation when she’d seen Gabriel standing over the Soul Blades. She should have grabbed him, tackled him, done whatever it took to stop him. But she had not even had time to grab the other Soul Blade. Now they had lost the God power it contained, and only the Sword of Light could match the power flooding through Gabriel’s body.
Overhead the noonday sun streamed down on the clearing between the walls, but its heat was nothing compared to that of the burning building. Screams came from within and Enala knew she could not hesitate any longer. Something had to be done, or innocent lives would be lost.
As people streamed past her, fleeing the burning building, Enala reached down to the power burning within her. Its red light rose at her touch, snapping at her mind, but she had no patience for its wilful nature now. Clenching it with a will of iron, she released her mind and opened her spirit eyes.
Staring at the building, she saw the eerie glow of the flames and reached out for it with her magic. Taking a firm grip of her power, she soared closer. Lines of magic stretched out from her, wrapping around the flames and binding them to her will. They fought ag
ainst her, desperate for freedom, to feed their ravenous hunger, but Enala refused to give in. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the ropes tighter, and hurled them skyward.
Screams came from around her as flames rose from the barracks and took to the sky, soaring over their heads towards the wall. Embers drifted down and the crowd flinched back as one, panic spreading through their ranks. But the flames did not fall, and a moment later they disappeared beyond the curve of the wall, tumbling into the wasteland beyond.
“What’s happening?” Eric’s shout came from beside her.
Enala drew back to her body. “It’s Gabriel,” she gasped, her thoughts still half with her magic. “He picked up the Soul Blade.”
Eric swore and reached for the Sword of Light. Flames lit the blade as he drew it, sizzling in the air, and she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think we need more of that,” she offered.
Shaking his head, Eric closed his eyes and the white fire died away. Beads of sweat sprang out on Eric’s forehead and his breathing quickened.
“Are you okay?” she sensed the tingle of power from the building and knew the flames were growing again.
Eric shook his head. “No. I… I’m still exhausted from the fight. But I have it under control. It’s just a good thing I didn’t use my magic in the battle.”
“Can you help?” Enala asked, nodding at the glow of fire coming from the upper windows.
Eric flashed a smile. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
He lifted the Sword and pointed it at the building. Enala closed her eyes and released her spirit again, pulling her magic with her. The fire leapt as her magic touched it, hungry to devour everything within reach. She sensed the surge of magic thumping in her ears and knew Eric was using the Sword’s power to do the same.