Demon Stone (Ascendancy Legacy 4)

by Bradford Bates

  ASCENDANCY DEMON STONE

  BRADFORD BATES

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Bradford Bates

  Copyright © 2016 by Bradford Bates

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any inquiries may be addressed via email to Bradford@bradfordbates.com

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this work are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.

  Cover designed by Rebecca Frank http://bookcovers.rebeccafrank.design

  Editing by Courtney Umphress http://www.courtneyumphress.com

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  CHAPTER 1

  SIR ROLAND’S REDEMPTION

  Sir Aldin tuned out the world around him hours ago. Now it was only him and the stone. It became his singular focus. Everything else slowly faded away. Every ounce of will that he could summon went into making sure that each tap of his chisel was precise. Any mistake now and there wouldn’t be time to start over. This was his last chance to create his life’s masterwork. After thirty years of study, he couldn’t fail now. The demon horde was marching, and this stone was the only chance they had to survive.

  The years he spent locked away deciphering the demon’s language didn’t seem wasted now. At the time, he had been ridiculed and scoffed at by his peers. They had been trained to destroy the demons, not to study them, but he had always been fascinated by their works. The demons had their own language and their own magic. The only way to truly defeat an enemy was if you knew them better than you knew yourself. Today he would find out if all those hours spent in study were wasted, or if he truly held the secret to their victory.

  The obsidian stone turned under his numb fingers. He had been at the work bench for almost the entire day. Setting the stone down, he flexed his tingling hands before picking the stone back up to examine his work. Three more runes and the stone would be complete. Then all of their hopes would rest in the hands of his chosen warrior. A feeling of sadness washed over Sir Aldin at the thought of not being able to carry the stone himself. The stone had been the work of a lifetime, and he wouldn’t even be there when it was used.

  Holding the stone up to the light, he marked out the path of his next cut. Bending over the clamp on his desk, he set the stone back in place. The chisel felt right in his hands. This time, it would work. It had to. The stone would take the enchantment, and they would be saved. He tapped the chisel with a precision that he couldn’t be sure was entirely his. It was as if an unseen hand was guiding his own. Each strike of the chisel brought the stone closer to completion. He wiped the sweat from his brow and bent back to the task before him.

  Relief and exhaustion flooded him as the last mark etched into the stone. Sir Aldin ran his thumb over the mark, gently brushing the dust from its surface. A smile creased his battered features then. The love he felt for the object before him now could be compared to the love he felt the first time he knelt before God in the church of the Lord. He almost felt like a younger man, instead of the grizzled warrior he had become. He was again reminded of his age as he stood from where he had spent the last day stooped over the stone. His back creaked in protest, like a tree in a stiff wind. He took a moment to stretch, letting some of the stiffness seep out of his muscles. Time was in too short a supply to linger overly long in self-indulgence. He reached out into the world around him and began to pull in the power God had blessed him with. The magic trickled in at first, and then the tiny stream turned into a river. The power washed over him, and the aches of the last day slowly washed away.

  He recited the words to himself before picking up the stone. Each word had to be repeated correctly, or all his work in crafting the stone would have been for naught. Saying the words to himself again, he reached for the darkened blade on his shelf. This very dagger was what had started him down his quest to create the stone all those years ago. Gently, he turned the blade over in his hand as if he was holding an object blessed by God, instead of forged in the fires of hell. The knife in his hands had changed the entire course of his life; it was his burning bush. Sir Aldin examined the runes again, even though he had memorized them long ago. Each rune on the stone had been made specifically to counter the runes found on the archfiend’s blade. Now was not the time for self-doubt and inaction. The time for reflection withered away as the demons relentlessly crawled into this world.

  Sir Aldin cut the tips of his fingers open with the fiend’s blade and reached for the stone. The words tumbled seamlessly from his lips. He continued to pull at the power around him, only this time, he channeled it into the stone instead of himself. The black stone started to glow red with the power he had infused into it. Instead of stopping, he channeled more power into the stone. The runes would hold it, or else everything was lost. The runes started to glow, and he could feel the stone burning into his flesh.

  The dark red light pulsed from the runes, and he continued to chant the words. Over and over he repeated the words. Until finally, he fell to his knees in exhaustion. He pulled the stone toward his chest, cradling it there despite how it burned him through his tunic. It had worked; the spell had worked. There was hope now that they could be saved. He smiled as exhaustion took him into a deep slumber. All of his life, he had been told his studies were worthless, and now he knew it had been a lifetime spent in the service of the Lord.

  Sir Aldin groaned as the doors to his private chambers banged open. How long had he been passed out on the floor? Every part of him seemed to ache, a punishment for not crawling to his mattress before passing out. When he looked down at his blackened fingers and saw the completed stone nestled there, most of the pain simply vanished. It had been a success this time when they had truly needed it; the stone had held his power.

  Prying the stone from his hand, he set about healing himself. It would have been better to do this before passing out. It was harder now that the injuries were older, but he would need his hand in working order for what was coming next. The pain from his burned and twisted fingers straightening and the flesh knitting itself back together was almost as bad as the thought of entrusting his greatest work to someone else. “It has to be done,” he mumbled to himself as the black ashes fell away from his newly healed fingers.

  He stripped off his robe and started to wash with the flower-scented water his servant had brought in. It felt good to scrape some of the dried sweat and charred skin from himself. Only once he was clean did he realize what had awakened him. The sound of his chamber door opening in a rush, the news must have been great indeed for someone to have entered his chamber without his leave. He turned to see his latest apprentice standing there w
ith his hands folded behind his back, waiting like a proper squire for his knight to address him. Sir Aldin could tell that the boy wanted to speak. His body was thrumming with energy, and there was a nervousness about him Sir Aldin hadn’t seen before.

  “Out with it, boy, before you collapse from your eagerness.”

  “Sir Aldin, Sir Richard has requested your presence on the wall.”

  That could only mean one thing. That the horde had moved faster than anyone could have expected. They must be close indeed for the boy to look so nervous. “Send Sir Roland to me at once, and then inform Sir Richard that I am on my way.”

  “He requested that you attend to him immediately, Sir Aldin.”

  “Just carry out my orders, boy. I am more than equipped to deal with any repercussions that my own actions may cause.”

  He ran from the room. Sir Aldin watched him go, thinking the boy had promise. It was too bad that he wouldn’t be around long enough to shape him into the man he knew he could be. There was no reason to worry about what was to come. All of it was in God’s hands now. All anyone could do was their duty and hope that God was on their side.

  Shutting out the thoughts of what might come, he turned to the more immediate need of preparing for the battle. He slowly dressed himself in the armor of his order. He had altered the inside of his plate armor with runes, some of the very same runes that he had used on the stone. Deep down, he had always known that the stone would be a success. From the very first day he had worn his new armor in battle, the inevitability of the outcome had never been in question. The first demon to lay a hand on him in battle had gone flying through the air as if he had been struck by the power of God himself.

  He finished strapping the rest of the armor into place as Sir Roland appeared in his chambers. He turned to face him, strapping his sword to his waist and picking up the shield from the ground. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Sir Roland.”

  “You’re lucky that I came at all. The battle will soon be upon us, and my place is with my brothers.”

  “I have a more important task for you than standing to meet the horde with the rest of our order.”

  Sir Roland’s face grew red with rage as he answered. “There is nothing more important than our sworn duty. I will not flee when others prepare to risk their lives.”

  “And yet this is something I would trust to no one else.”

  Some of the rage washed away from Sir Roland’s features. “So you completed it, then?”

  “I have, and now I need you to bear the weight of it for me.”

  “You cannot ask this of me, not when our last stand is so near at hand. I wish to die on the field and reclaim my honor.”

  “And yet you must be the one to carry the stone. I trust only you to do what I ask.”

  Roland growled. “Damn you to hell, Sir Aldin.” Falling to one knee, he looked up into his master’s eyes. “I will do as you command.”

  “Then rise, and may God shine his blessings down upon you.”

  They stood for a moment, staring at each other. Each man lost in their own thoughts. Finally, the silence was broken as his apprentice rushed back into the room.

  “Sir Aldin.” He bowed. “Sir Roland.”

  “Speak,” Sir Aldin commanded.

  “Sir Richard is growing impatient and has sent me to find you. This time, he threatened the lash if I didn’t bring you to him myself.”

  “You have no need to fear the lash of Sir Richard, boy. The strength of his arm is long past its prime.” He watched as the boy’s face fell. “But you have no need to worry. I will go to him now.”

  “Thank you, Sir Aldin.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I have another job for you. I need you to accompany Sir Roland on a quest.”

  Sir Roland started to speak, but Aldin raised a hand to silence him. “You will take him with you.” He turned his gaze to the boy. “And you will do whatever he says.” Both of them nodded grudgingly.

  Sir Aldin moved toward his workbench and scooped up the stone. He set it into a small wooden box lined with felt, and then handed the box to Sir Roland. “This is the most important thing that you will ever do with your life. Be well, and do not fail in your task.”

  “I will not fail you, Sir Aldin.”

  “Then go.”

  Sir Roland turned and grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt, dragging him from the room. An auspicious start to their journey together, but their journey would be blessed nonetheless. All of the order’s hopes rode away from this castle in the hands of a knight seeking redemption and a boy barely old enough to summon his gift.

  There was no time for Sir Aldin to waste. Sir Richard had summoned him to the battlements. The inside of the castle had grown eerily still as the horde marched upon their position. All of the men must have already been ordered to their battle stations on the castle walls. The torches fluttered as he walked by, and it was easy enough to forget about what waited outside of the walls for him. His thoughts were fully focused on Sir Roland and the long road he had ahead of himself. He had to succeed. There was no other way. If the demon gate could not be closed, then eventually all of us would fall to their ever-growing numbers.

  Reaching the top of the battlements, Sir Aldin scanned the field. The demons filled the valley from edge to edge, and in the center of their horde stood their commander. He was a large Balor demon. The demon stood roughly three times the height of a man and had wings that stretched at least that far to either side. He carried a massive sword in one hand and a whip of flames in the other. As the whip dragged on the ground behind him, the earth burst into flames at its touch.

  The demons had wasted no time in sending one of their strongest against us. Hopefully, the order would be able to make them pay for their lack of foresight. Turning away from the fields, Sir Aldin scanned the battlements for Richard. He found him not far away and started making his way toward him. The men seemed to rouse themselves from their fear as he walked by. His near silent tread was full of confidence. Most of the men had never seen a horde such as this before and were unsure of the outcome. What they would never see was Sir Aldin waver, his faith in God was resolute.

  Some of the men snickered behind him, and he saw Sir Roland and his apprentice fleeing from the side gate. He wanted to correct them, but it was easier this way. No one would be looking for a traitor, at least not until this was over. One of the men said, “Look at the coward flee again.” It broke Sir Aldin’s heart to hear them speak of Roland in such a way. He carried a burden greater than they would ever know. Choking down his need to speak out for his knight, he continued toward Richard.

  Richard pulled him into an embrace as he reached him. It was just what the men needed to see to feel confident. Their two oldest warriors standing on the battlements together, staring at an army of demons and sure that victory would be on their side.

  Richard gave Aldin a weary look. “Should I even ask what that is about?” he said, pointing to the dust cloud formed by Roland’s horse in the distance.

  “Just know that he left with my blessing.”

  “That was all I needed to hear. Are you ready for this, my old friend?”

  “We all have to face our mortality sometime,” Sir Aldin said with a laugh, leaping from the battlements.

  Sir Aldin smiled as he fell a hundred feet to the ground below. The dust cloud that rose when he hit covered any sight of him from the men on the walls. Many of the men gasped and groaned in horror, thinking that he threw himself to his death instead of facing the horde. Just as the men were starting to lose hope, the dust cleared, revealing Sir Aldin standing as if he had only jumped a few feet instead of a hundred. The men broke out in cheering across the battlement.

  Richard grumbled to himself. “He always was a show-off.”

  Sir Aldin walked out onto the field of battle by himself as if he had the strength to face the growing horde of demons alone. He pulled his sword from his belt and slammed it into the earth point-first and shouted into th
e growing darkness, “You shall not pass!”

  “Damn it, Adam. He didn’t really say that, did he?”

  “Ok, you got me on that one. I was just trying to make the story more relatable to you.”

  “By copying Lord of the Rings?”

  “Well, a Balor demon looks a lot like a Balrog, and you have to admit it was an epic line.”

  Did Adam really just say epic? Hanging out with the younger generation was really starting to wear off on him. “Let’s just get back to the story, and this time, try and tell me what he really said.”

  “As you wish.”

  Wow, and now he went Princess Bride on me. I should have never let him and Alby talk. “Jesus, shut up and get on with it already.”

  He let out a little chuckle. “So do you want me to shut up or keep going with the story?”

  “You know what I mean. And for the record, it only worked in the movie because he was his grandpa. Saying as you wish to random kids should probably get you tossed in jail.”

  “I guess I do know what you mean,” Adam said with a twinkle in his eye. Sometimes he just couldn’t help pushing the buttons of his students. It was kind of fun to watch them boil over at the slightest provocation. Maybe temperament was something that came with age.

  Sir Aldin walked out onto the field of battle by himself, as if he had the strength to face the growing horde of demons alone. He pulled his sword from his belt and slammed it into the earth point-first and shouted into the night, “May God have mercy on your souls.”

  The demons started to laugh, and the Balor demon moved forward. “There is no place left for your God. This world is ours now.”

  Sir Aldin only smiled and pulled his sword from the ground. The horde started to move toward him as the sun finished setting behind them. The Balor demon moved in front of the rest of the demons, confident in the outcome of a battle between himself and one man. Sir Aldin focused on his power and sent a blast of pure energy out toward the horde. The weaker demons simply vanished into a cloud of dust as his power rushed over them. He commanded another blast to the opposite side of the horde, with the same results.