Forts Special Edition: Fathers and Sons

by Steven Novak

  The majority of Ochans rode on a number of large, angry creatures of varying size and shape. Each one had been taken unceremoniously from their home world, tamed and forced into an existence serving the Ochan nation. Some had three legs, some four, some had long necks and some had no necks whatsoever. The beasts were as heavily armored and blood thirsty as were the soldiers seated atop. The already darkened sky grew darker still as regiments of soldiers perched on the flying creatures equally as diverse as their non-airborne counterparts swooped into the courtyard to join in the fray.

  The massive force moved with incredible precision, attacking from every possible angle. Some made their way into the fortress through hidden entrances, while others chose to scale the massive walls. Many simply came in through the main entrance.

  To call the sight terrifyingly impressive would be a gross understatement.

  The addition of these well-trained, battle-ready soldiers had an immediate effect on the course of the slave revolt raging inside. Outnumbered twenty to one, the small chance the surviving slaves may have had was erased in an instant. In a matter of minutes, nearly all of them were wiped out. The lifeless corpses floating in puddles of water stained with blood was a dark testimony to the greatest slave revolt the war had ever seen. What had been an uprising on inspiring levels now resembled an act of genocide.

  The Lieutenant had handed Zanell over to General Thrax. She sat on the General’s snarling, foul-breathed Megalot and sadly watched as the prisoners were outnumbered, overrun and slaughtered.

  General Thrax considered murdering the disgusting Fillagrou female after he had ordered the Lieutenant to join the battle. A part of him, though, wanted her to watch the slaves die. There would be ample time to kill her later. Better that she was taught the lesson before putting to an end her pitiful existence. .

  “It would seem that this little revolt is being put down rather quickly…what a shame. My men were hoping for a bit more resistance.” The aged General snarled sarcastically as he watched the battle play itself out. He wore a pair of thick glasses that also functioned like a pair of binoculars.

  Zanell did not need a special lens to see what was happening. In fact, she did not even need to look at the madness. For her, what was happening below had already happened and would happen again. It was a confusing paradox of time that she did not fully understand but had come to accept. General Thrax removed his binocular glasses, smiled and sighed deeply. His soldiers were performing well. The uprising would be over sooner than he had anticipated. When word of the quick victory eventually reached the King, he would no doubt receive a royal commendation, possibly even a medal. But part of him wished that he could be in the melee, fighting alongside his Ochan comrades, his blade slicing into the flesh of the worthless sleaze. Unfortunately, those days were behind him. He was a General now. His place was to watch from a distance, giving orders for others to follow, rather than taking orders himself. This was where Ocha needed him and this was where he would remain.

  A contented smile stretched across his face as he looked at Zanell. “I would have thought scum like you would have learned the futility of actions such as these at this point…ah…well, I suppose I should have expected nothing less. Intelligence is a quality so many of you lack. Trying to beat it into you kind over these past years has proven to be an impossible task.”

  Zanell smiled softy, teetering on the brink of laughter.

  “HA! My point exactly!” The General chuckled. “Even now, as your people drown in buckets of their own bile and blood, you smile at me like a buffoon. Your idiocy would anger me, female…if it were not so very sad.”

  The sound of a massive explosion suddenly filled the air. The grin on the General’s face instantly disappeared as he tried to see what had happened.

  Zanell’s smile widened.

  The sheer size of the explosion had forced every Ochan soldier fighting in the courtyard to take notice. In near perfect synchronization, their heads turned just in time to see the walls of the tower blown apart by a massive, unbearably bright light. Gigantic blocks of stone were tossed in every direction, some of them disappearing into the clouds, while others fell back to earth, very nearly crushing those who stood in its path. A heavy cloud of smoke sprinkled with dangerous debris spread across the sky, blocking the dark cloud, covering the courtyard in a dusty grayish haze. From the cloud of scattered stone and sand fell the wildly flailing body of Prince Valkea. Without bone or internal musculature, the floppy mess of a form splashed in a puddle of muddy water. Though his face was barely recognizable, the Ochan soldiers instantly noticed the delicate royal engravings on what remained of his shattered armor, as well as the elaborate royal designs on his dirty, ripped robes. The awful blob of disgusting flesh sprawled out in front of them was their Prince. It could be no other.

  Word of Prince Valkea’s fate quickly spread. A deafening hush cut into the sounds of war, slowly making its way throughout the courtyard. The thin layer of dust slowly settled as the soldiers stared unbelievingly at the gnarled remains of their leader. Some who needed further confirmation cautiously approached the body. Within moments the group of soldiers surrounding the corpse numbered in the hundreds, their numbers swelling quickly. Word of the Ochan Prince’s demise spread like a virus, passed from whispered hush to eager ear, filling their hearts with a very foreign feeling - dread.

  “It’s happening again!” A soldier screamed, pointing at the tower.

  In unison the soldiers watched as a hauntingly beautiful and terrifying glow spilled over the sides of the half-broken tower like a frothy foam cresting over the top of a goblet.

  “COVER!” A single voice bellowed from among the Ochan masses.

  Instinctively they ducked, covering themselves with their shields. Moving with astounding speed, the light spread across the courtyard, melting over the frightened, uncertain soldiers and everything else within its path. While the light had no effect on the Ochans, its effect on the fallen slaves was pronounced. Seeping into their wounds and spreading through their bodies, it healed the injured and breathed life into those recently dead. Creeping into every hallway and through every door, the strange light found those that it deemed worthy, filling their bodies with its potent, life-giving warmth. One by one, the dead and injured alike opened their empty eyes and breathed in freshness and strength they had not experienced in years.

  The light covered the fortress completely and moved across the flatlands, heading toward General Thrax and Zanell.

  Removing his glasses, General Thrax stared blankly at the approaching wave of frightening brightness. The stunned General quietly muttered, “What…manner…of…magic?”

  The instant the light began to fold over his body, General Thrax tugged back on the reins of the Megalot, causing the beast to recoil. The colossal creature lurched onto its hind legs, shaking its thick torso wildly, tossing Zanell into a thick patch of brush.

  After the light had returned to the shaky tower, the confused Ochan soldiers peeked cautiously from underneath their shields. Patting down their bodies while searching for injuries that the fearsome glow might have caused, they realized they had not been harmed. Looking around in bewilderment, the Ochan soldiers noticed that the prisoners they had just killed were rising up from the muddy ground, their wounds healed, their bodies no longer showing signs of starvation or hardship or injuries of any kind.

  “The dead…the dead…the army of the dead rise!” One frightened soldier managed to sputter as he raised his sword to defend himself against the newly reborn threat. The soldiers had no idea what was happening but their warrior instincts prepared them for combat once more.

  Before the battle could begin anew, the foundation of the heavily damaged massive tower degenerated. Collapsing inward on itself, the immense structure crumbled to the ground. Soldiers and the confused reanimated slaves immediately scurried for cover. A cloud of dust and debris shot into the rainy sky like the mushroom cloud aftermath of an atomic bomb as the tower tumbled. I
t blocked the clouds, spread across the courtyard and shaded everything in a deep gray, concrete haze.

  For a more than a minute, it was impossible to see beyond a few feet. Soldiers staggered awkwardly through the dust, partially blinded, coughing violently as it clogged their lungs. The rubble of the fallen structure stretched across the fortification. Soldiers who had not been quick enough to get out of the way were buried beneath a torrent of falling stone. The sudden, incredibly violent blast had caused a large section of the castle to become unstable as well. The sound of cracking stone and steel, mixed with the confused barks of Ochan soldiers, filled the night air, echoing into the clouds.

  The first fortress constructed on Fillagrou land, a towering example of Ochan superiority and the residence of the son of the great King, lay in a shambles. For Ochan soldiers and prisoners, a sight such as this seemed impossible. To see it fall was unbelievable. This was a moment some had spent a lifetime dreaming of while others had dreaded the possibility.

  Through a cloud of smoky debris, a single Ochan noticed an odd glow coming from the mountain of rubble where the tower had once stood. Others quickly noticed the hauntingly familiar glow and wondered what could possibly happen next. When the dust had settled, the cloud around the glow fluttered away, exposing it at last to the hordes of gaping onlookers. Hovering five feet above the highest slab of broken stone was a massive ball of white light, the glowing sphere blinding.

  Barely visible within its center were Pleebo, Tommy, Staci and Nicky.

  *

  *

  CHAPTER 59

  A HASTY RETREAT

  *

  Just as soon as Tommy had been awakened by Staci’s healing touch, the floor beneath him gave way and gravity pulled him down into a black abyss of sound and fury. Swallowed whole by the cloudy painful darkness, the peculiarly familiar sensations crawled out from somewhere deep inside the boy so quickly that it seemed to be instinct rather than conscious thought. Instantly reaching their boiling point, the sensations frothed over the tip of his fingers. Instead of leaping wildly as had happened before, the powerful light gleamed and emanated from his pores, then immediately folded back. When it reached out, the light snatched Staci, Nicky and Pleebo, pulling their tumbling bodies back toward Tommy, encasing the four of them in a protective bubble of energy. Shards of falling stone and wood collided with the glowing sphere as a cloud of destructive, dangerous debris rose up around them. No matter what wreckage collided with the sphere’s crackling, super-heated exterior, it was either evaporated or sent bouncing in the opposite direction.

  Hunched over on his hands and knees, Pleebo looked below him and saw only a wall of inconceivably bright light. The weight of his entire body was resting on pure light – as if it had form – as if it were solid. Over the past few days, Pleebo had slowly become accustomed to strange occurrences. Yet with each new one, he had found himself more astounded than the last. The experience of sitting inside what was essentially a glow was unlike anything he could have imagined – the unreal made real. Floating beneath his feet was young Tommy Jarvis. With his hands at his side, his eyes closed and his body lit up like the center of a Fillagrou sun, the boy looked almost Godlike. It was only a matter of days since Pleebo had first met Tommy Jarvis. From the moment he laid eyes on the boy that afternoon in the red forest, something inside had told him that Tommy was special – that he was more than he appeared. The glowing mass of astounding crackling energy was no longer just a boy. It was something more. This thing before him now was one of The Five – the realization of his grandfather’s stories. It was something special and new, something different…and something good.

  It was going to save them all – this he knew.

  With the dust of the collapsing structure cleared, the glowing sphere floating above the huge piles of rubble was exposed to the shocked onlookers in the courtyard. The ball of pure light and energy floated slowly over the debris of the fallen tower, past the heads of the gaping crowd and eventually touched down gently in the mud on the opposite side. The sphere disappeared gradually, the light retreating once again into Tommy’s hands. The group found themselves standing firmly on solid ground. Though the glow surrounding him had dimmed, the remaining energy in Tommy’s hands hummed softly. It was still there and it was ready. Slowly Tommy opened his eyes. A wall of confused and shocked Ochan soldiers stood in front of him. Behind him and to his right and left stood even more. Their swords were lowered, hanging loosely at their sides. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that some of them would never come to terms with what they had just seen.

  Nearly all of the soldiers had experienced magic on some level before. The war had introduced them to a wide variety of species, some of which practiced magic regularly and others that had simply showed a mastery over science that was often confused for magic. Though it was rarely talked about, many believed that the great King Kragamel himself had often dealt in the dark, forbidden arts. Magic on this level though – magic the likes of which they had just experienced firsthand – was unheard of.

  Tommy slowly lowered his hands while an ominous glow from inside his skull lit his eyes. With slow, deliberate steps, he moved toward the Ochan soldiers. With each step forward the Ochans stepped back. With every passing second, the otherworldly energy emanating from his body grew brighter.

  Pleebo pulled Nicky and Staci protectively close, keeping them together and next to Tommy. Never in his life had he imagined that he would be surrounded by so many Ochan soldiers and still be alive. Not only was he alive, his very presence seemed to terrify the soldiers. Every drop of falling rain evaporated when it came in contact with Tommy. Puddles beneath his feet transformed into grayish plumes of steam. Tommy stopped, extended his arm and slowly opened his hand, pointing his glowing palm toward the soldiers standing before him. A deep hush fell over the crowd.

  With seriousness well beyond his years soaked into every word, Tommy calmly recommended, “I suggest you guys head home.”

  Taken aback by the confident tone in the firecracker boy’s voice, the Ochans exchanged brief, confused glances. The pink-skinned creature standing before them was undoubtedly powerful, but they were the toughest of the tough – Ochan warriors born and bred. Incredible magic notwithstanding, they were not about to simply turn tail and run. The idea of considering retreat even momentarily tickled the funny bone of more than one of them. As was bound to happen, their fear quickly turned to annoyance, annoyance turned to anger and from the anger erupted peals of laughter.

  Tightening the grip on his sword, the highest-ranking soldier closest to Tommy moved to within inches of the boy, a cocky swagger in his step. “Your magic doesn’t frighten us, child. An Ochan warrior fears nothing…least of all a creature wielding a paltry bag of parlor tricks. Magic or not, you are outnumbered fifty to one. Heed my words, child. There will be no retreat.” Lifting his sword, the Ochan extended it, pointing the tip between Tommy’s glowing eyes. “I assure you, we will make your death a slow and painful one for the mere suggestion alone.”

  Without any warning, the glow around Tommy’s face doubled in intensity and expanded to swallow half the soldier’s blade, melting the solid steel to a substance that resembled dripping butter. The soldier quickly pulled his weapon out of the glow, holding the scalding tip inches from his face. Despite the smug confidence of his words just moments ago, a chill of absolute terror went through his spine. It traveled down his legs and into his feet, freezing them in place.

  The glow around Tommy’s body tripled in size as he whispered through the great ball of light, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  From the tree line across the flatland, General Thrax sat on his Megalot and had watched the situation unfold through his binocular glasses. In less than ten minutes he had witnessed the dead come back to life, saw the Prince’s tower fall, and watched the glowing boy with his cohorts float to safety in a protective bubble. Now it was that same radiating child that stood defiantly in the face of an entire army.
Though it pained his Ochan pride to admit it, the image was downright terrifying.

  Whoever this child was, wherever he came from, he was clearly dangerous.

  He watched one of his soldiers approach the boy and exchange words. The glow emanating from the pink-skinned child’s body fluttered in lightning quick intervals, sending intense bursts into the clouds. It expanded rapidly. From the palm of the boy’s hand an astoundingly large wall of light sprung to life, extending miles into the air, bathing the courtyard. The massive wall of snarling brightness advanced in every direction. Pouring over soldiers and buildings like molten steel, it hungrily gobbled everything in its path. Moving with terrifying speed, the humming whiteness pressed forward, up an over what was left of the outer fortress walls, across the flatlands, and toward the tree line. The Megalot bucked wildly and almost tossed General Thrax to the forest floor. The rapidly advancing wall of light was now less than a hundred and fifty feet away, rolling over trees and plants, and great acres of land. Instinctively the General turned away, bracing himself for impact. It dissipated mere inches from the back of his head, receding back to where it had originated.

  Time passed silently, as time tends to do moments before one thinks they are about to die. His eyes closed tightly, his teeth clamped together with a vice-like grip. General Thrax held his breath and remained still as he anticipated his eventual end. The passing seconds rolled into minutes and the General wondered why he was not dead. He looked again at the fortress, trying to see exactly what had happened. The light that had encompassed his field of vision just moments earlier was gone. Not a trace of it remained. The ground around him looked the same and the trees still stood. The spooked Megalot beneath him gnawed angrily on the steel harness between its enormous, flat yellow teeth. The fortress, too, seemed to have no additional damage.