by B. A. Scott
“Your choice shall decide that.”
Gabrel didn’t understand what she meant, but felt assured all would be made clear once he passed through the gateway.
“You made another portal—just there,” he noticed. “What’s the other one for?”
“There, I pray, you will emerge,” said Teréyu. “Be true of intent, Gabrel. Remember why you came. And all those you would save.”
Last-minute advice? Gabrel wondered. Or another warning?
“Good luck, ambassador,” said Saléus.
Gabrel returned his attention to the portal. “Here we go,” he spoke, then disappeared into its glimmering depths.
Chapter 30: The Storm
Fatigue wore on Dareic like bags of solid lead. His arms, exhausted from the fight, could barely keep up with his will to raise them. Casting magic had taken its toll as well. He felt drained and he wondered how Ralian was still standing upright, having wielded far more than he.
But Dareic’s determination outweighed his exhaustion. He’d long lost count of how many he’d slain, or how many times he’d nearly met his death.
All the mounted Peletors upon the battlefield were spent, and Hadaan’s forces pressed past the wall, into the Fortress, where they met Skael’adar, Humans and Erygians at the ground. And yet more continued up the ramps, save for the one Dexius took, for their fear of his unstable nature.
“Hold your positions!” Ralian yelled, hacking a Blessed One like a meat cleaver to its shoulder. “Hold the wall!”
Dareic wondered why the Sage hadn’t retreated inward. Apparently, Ralian sought to slow the incoming troops as much as possible, rather than aid the army within the Fortress.
Dareic dodged a Primen’s spear, then blasted it backward with a furious fireball. For a moment, no other attackers presented themselves. Dareic spun, ready to strike at any who approached, but stopped at the sight of Hadaan, standing on the wall, not ten feet away—a clashing of forces behind him.
Dareic twirled his blades, ready for Hadaan to engage as Treäbu came to his side.
“Look who it is,” said the Skaelar, snarling.
Vega arrived at Dareic’s other side, spears in hand. Behind them, Ralian, Vexen, and Skael’adar awaited Hadaan’s advance.
The dark man took a step forward, then froze with eyes wide, looking beyond his foes.
Confused, Dareic turned to see what stunned Hadaan so greatly.
“Hello, sister,” Dexius spoke. The entire ruined wall was empty behind him.
Immediately, Dareic and the others withdrew inward, their backs to one another.
“Cornered like rats,” spat Dexius, with evil delight. “And Vexen, what curious powers you’ve acquired since leaving your people—since murdering your own mother!”
“Dexius!” Hadaan spoke over the clamor of battle. “Don’t take another step. I know what you’ve done. I know what you’ve taken.”
Dexius smiled, and pulled the Amulet of Oblivion from beneath his armor.
“No more sense in pretense,” he said.
“What is that?” Dareic asked.
“Remove that foul thing,” Hadaan commanded. “It is killing our own forces, you bungling imbecile.”
“The fires of Oblivion do not discriminate,” said Dexius. “A means to an end, dear brother.”
“Oblivion,” Ralian gasped, fearfully.
“Fool. You can’t control it,” Hadaan spoke. “Take it off!”
Dexius cocked his head, the look of malice in his eyes—not for his enemies, but for his brother’s patronizing contempt.
“Dexius. Now.”
Dexius, shield raised, pointed his sword toward Hadaan and spoke, “You… do not command m—”
An arrow sliced through his cheek, shaking Dexius from his stance. He touched the wound, and observed the drawn blood. His eyes turned to Dareic and others. It did not take long to spot his attacker, for Vexen still held her bow, aimed at him, tears in her eyes.
Dexius roared, and Hadaan bolted away—back in the direction he’d come— knowing his brother’s rage would summon a terrible fire.
“Run!” he yelled to his forces.
Vega hurled a spear at Dexius just as the Oblivion Flame ignited. It struck Dexius’s shield with such force, it knocked him stumbling backward. But not before the hellish flames consumed several Skael’adar.
“Holy shit!” Dareic yelled upon seeing the warriors turned to ash.
“Get away from him! Back the other way!” Ralian shouted, grasping Vexen’s arm, and yanking her in tow. The group dashed along the battlements, hot on Hadaan’s heels, as Dexius rose and sped after them.
The Oblivion Flame surged about his body, fueled by a continuous stream of hatred.
Dareic and the others darted through the masses, already engaged in combat. Those unaware to Dexius’s threat instantly perished as he passed them.
Fear gripped Dareic’s heart. This was no Primen or Blessed he could defend himself against. That fire, he thought, cutting down opposition as he ran—jumping over corpses, gaps in the path, and heaps of broken wall. It burned them to nothing!
Ralian cast Fury and Gale, frying and blasting forthcoming demons. Vega launched his last spear back at Dexius, while sprinting for his life. Treäbu and the other Skael’adar threw knives and swords as well, but Dexius dodged or blocked the onslaught, and it only amplified his loathing. The Oblivion Flame pulsed around him, growing in surges with every hateful breath.
Ahead, Dareic saw Hadaan flap his mighty black wings, and soar into the air.
The sight of his brother escaping infuriated Dexius, but his focus remained on Vexen. He didn’t care that he was killing scores of his own forces. He was nearing her with every step, and she would soon face the consequences of her betrayal.
Treäbu collided with a horde of demons, a single blade in his hand. He cut through two Blessed, but not before one slashed him deep across the leg.
He crumbled to the ground, yelling in pain, as the others continued forward.
Upon hearing his bellow, Vexen glanced back over her shoulder and stopped.
Treäbu lay alone on the battlements, grasping his bloody thigh, writhing in agony. Dexius was almost to him.
“Treäbu,” Vexen gasped. He’ll be dead in moments, she realized, then raced toward him, pulling an arrow from her quiver. Ralian caught sight of her, and halted.
“Dareic! Vega!” he yelled ahead. They turned back to see what could possibly be more important than plunging forward.
At the sight of his wounded friend, Dareic’s stomach lurched. “Oh god,” he spoke.
Vexen knelt at Treäbu’s side, and aimed her bow.
“What are you doing!?” Treäbu screamed, for they would be dead in seconds.
Shrouded by red fire, Dexius roared in triumph as he fixated on his sister.
“Forgive me, brother,” Vexen said, then loosed her arrow.
It struck Dexius through the neck. He tumbled to the ground, and the Oblivion Flame vanished inches before Vexen’s hand.
Blackened blood gushed from Dexius’s neck as he gurgled and gagged. His fingertips grazed the arrow, lodged in his throat, as life poured out of him. He had no more hatred in his heart, for all he felt was utter bewilderment at his sudden turn of fate.
His eyes found Vexen, then lost their light as he succumbed to death. High above, Hadaan witnessed the horror. Despite his distaste for Dexius, what resentment he felt was instantly replaced by vengeful grief.
Ralian poured Revival into Treäbu as Dareic and Vega guarded them.
“You—turned back,” Treäbu said to Vexen.
“You would have done the same,” she told him.
“Look out!” Dareic yelled, colliding with Vexen, ramming her aside. They avoided what would have been a deadly stroke of Hadaan’s sword as the dark man landed with terrible force.
At first, Vexen thought Dareic had attacked her. But at the sight of her brother, she realized he’d saved her life.
Veg
a and the Skael’adar engaged Hadaan as Ralian heaved Treäbu to his feet. Treäbu winced, for even though his wound was healed, his nerves were tender beneath its scar.
Dareic and Vexen hastened to their feet.
“Thank you,” Vexen told him.
Dareic nodded quickly, brushing off his heroic act, then rejoined the fight.
* * * * *
The Agile tossed amidst the massive storm. Kaven understood the tumult to be a common occurrence at sea, but it was absolutely the most physically unsettling experience he’d ever endured.
The boat came to a shuddering stop, and the rumble of grinding rocks vibrated his feet.
“We’ve stopped,” he expressed his observation to Kade. They bolted to the deck, where Faelia had already approached Captain Cyver. The rain pounded in their ears, and lighting crashed all around.
“What’s happened?” Kade inquired.
“We’ve run aground,” said the Captain. The ship rested upon the shore of a most unusual place. One of an island chain, like hills half-buried in the ocean.
“Run aground!?” Kaven asked. “Where?”
Faelia looked to her surroundings with the utmost dread, and spoke, “There’s only one place we can be.”
Beyond their sight, a gargantuan figure peered from around a distant island peak, through the torrents, enraged by the ship’s arrival. Harcos, Zelvanyan of the Infernal Trine, was a sea creature of unmatched size and ferocity. Its form was of indigo, with a white stripe down its back, and its appendages were like wings of the sea, tipped with a spray of feather-shaped fingers, long as jetties.
With hatred in its heart, Harcos lunged for the Agile, leaving trenches of crashing waves in its wake.
“The Centurian Isles?” Kade asked. “Are you certain?”
“Arrived by this cursed storm,” Captain Cyver spat.
In all the rain and thunder, a deep, reverberating roar filled their ears.
“Um, what was that?” Kaven asked. They looked out to sea, where a gigantic dark mass approached with alarming speed. Lightning crashed, illuminating Harcos’s terrible form.
“Holy hell,” Faelia uttered.
“The Guardian!” Cyver yelled. “It’s coming for us!”
“What is that thing!?” Kaven asked as everyone sped to the back of the ship for a closer look.
Harcos surged from the water, raising an appendage to smash the Agile.
Kaven and Kade lashed out with Fury, striking the Zelvanyan, impeding its attack. Harcos rolled in pain, but recovered. He inhaled deeply and breathed out a ferociously frozen breath.
The wielders conjured shields to block the blast, but the ship and two of the crew who did not stand with Kaven, Kade and Faelia were sealed in ice. The remaining Boreans hurried for spears as Kaven and Kade pommeled the creature with lighting and Gale, thwarting its charge.
“It’s not doing any good!” Kaven yelled. “It’s too big!”
“It’ll smash us to bits!” Faelia yelled. “We need to draw it away!”
Kaven froze, his eyes wide.
“I have an idea. Hold it off!” he said, then raced away, barely maintaining his stride across the icy deck.
“Where the blasted hell are you going!?” Faelia scolded. But Kaven didn’t answer. The Borean Sage summoned Wave, and sent a continuous blast of water at the creature, like a raging river in the air. It kept Harcos at bay, but as he was a denizen of the sea, the deluge was ultimately of ineffectual offense.
Kaven returned, bearing both wind riders and a long spear.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Faelia said.
“Do you have any better ideas?” Kaven asked, strapping himself onto one of the shields. “We can’t throw spears far enough to reach it, and Fury just seems to slow it down. We need to get closer—and distract it from the ship.”
“Here! use this!” Cyver said, tossing Kaven her Keen Mask. Kaven donned it instantly. It was like the rain blurred away, and everywhere he looked became focused and clear.
Without another word, he grabbed a spear and soared into the sky. Raindrops stung him like a battering of speeding thorns. He made straight for the creature’s head, hoping it would see him.
Its face was smooth, but beastly, and it indeed fixated on the flying thing before it with a sense of curiosity.
“That’s it,” Kaven uttered, then wasted no time in sending a bolt of Fury between its eyes.
Harcos roared as jagged lighting spread across his face. He lurched forward, jaws wide, nearly engulfing Kaven in his massive mouth.
Kaven zoomed away, avoiding a crash of teeth. Harcos turned on him, intent on retaliation. He unleashed breath after breath of frozen malice at Kaven, thrashing and smashing at the air, but Kaven maneuvered with daring agility, persistently poking and scraping the Zelvanyan with his Fury-filled spear, like a biting flea to a bear. Where Harcos’s frigid blasts struck the ocean, seawater turned to giant chunks of ice.
With every strike, Kaven led Harcos deeper into the sea, away from the Agile.
Kade rose upon her own wind rider, and soared toward Kaven. Her sword was filled with Fury, and her eyes with determination.
With the beast chasing after Kaven, its back was open to Kade. As she approached, she grasped her sword with both hands, and held it above her head, blade downward.
She landed on the Zelvanyan’s back like a boulder from the heavens, and plunged her electrified sword into its flesh.
Harcos groaned in agony as Fury consumed him. He rolled, attempting to take his hidden attacker beneath the sea. But Kade withdrew her sword and sped high into the air.
Kaven saw her gliding through the storm, rising, then diving back down to the creature, for its underside was exposed from the rolling.
She buried her sword into its chest, sending the strongest surges of Fury she’d ever conjured into it. Harcos erupted from the water, high above the waves. He writhed in torment as Kade held onto her sword, refusing to relent. The force of the creature’s movements shook her, but they lessened with every passing moment as her magic crippled Harcos’s heart.
Kaven sped to her, though he was fearful to approach amidst the flailing.
Just a bit more, Kade thought to herself, struggling to maintain her grasp. But Harcos swung a mighty appendage at her—a last desperate attempt to swat her away. Kade didn’t see it coming until it was just upon her. She conjured a shield to block the oncoming blow, but she’d barely formed it when Harcos struck.
Kaven watched as the shield shattered, and Kade’s body was bashed into the air.
“Oh god,” he said, for her wind rider was smashed to pieces, and she was plummeting toward the ocean.
Harcos released a final moan of anguish, and sank lifeless beneath the sea as Kaven ripped through the air, reaching his hand toward Kade’s falling body. He slowed her descent with a levitation spell, then caught her in his arms.
Kaven looked upon her with dread. Her eyes were closed, her face was pale, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Oh god, Kade!” he yelled, shaking her. But she did not wake.
Chapter 31: The Hall of Imminent Futures
The battle raged on as Dareic and the others fought Hadaan and his demons atop the battlements.
They just keep coming, Dareic thought as he reached forward to impel a Blessed attacker. It sailed from the wall, like it was yanked violently backward by an invisible cord.
“My forces are flooding into your city,” Hadaan spoke between strikes. “Your defenses lay in ruin. And your Sage can only save so many.”
He’s right, Dareic thought. It’s only a matter of time before Skaelwood falls.
In that moment, in all the clashing of metal and ungodly bellows of rage and death, an Incinian horn sounded on the air. All looked to the distant tree line, where Fahren, leading thousands, emerged from the wood.
“Fahren,” Vega spoke.
The Incinian Sage surveyed the mayhem. His fellow Incinians were unarmed, and very few bore armor
, for they’d trekked to Skaelwood immediately following their liberation from Kallenshar.
“Fahren Sage,” spoke an Incinian warrior. “What do we do?”
“It appears our would-be haven has fallen under attack,” Fahren voiced the obvious. “What say we lend the bastards a hand?”
“We have no weapons,” the warrior argued.
“Leave that to me,” Fahren said. He walked forward, then quickened pace until he and the thousands behind were in an all-out charge toward Daro’s demons. Primen and Blessed turned to them, solidified their lines, and readied for collision.
As he dashed, Fahren looked to the flanking forests, where hundreds of mighty stalks had somehow fallen alongside the battlefield.
Kindling, he thought.
He levitated several trunks on both sides and set them ablaze with Flame, then hurled them across the plain like gigantic flaming rolling pins, bashing and crushing what remained of Hadaan’s forces.
The line of Primen and Blessed before them was flattened and afire, providing the charging Incinians with a wealth of weapons to recover as they plowed toward the wall.
* * * * *
Kaven soared frantically back to the Agile and set Kade upon the frozen deck.
“What happened!” Faelia asked, but when she saw Kade, she gasped in horror.
“She—she got hit,” Kaven said, dismounting his wind rider.
“What of the creature?” Cyver asked.
“It’s gone,” Kaven told her. He craned over Kade, putting his ear to her heart. “Blast this rain! I can’t tell if she’s—” he yelled, unable to discern a beat, then moved his ear to her mouth. The faintest breath was present, he was sure of it.
“I think she’s alive,” he said.
“Come, let’s get her inside,” Faelia urged.
Kaven nodded, just as the hairs on his neck stood on end.
Harcos erupted from the water, towering just beyond the ship. He studied the feeble things on board, wondering how such irksome insects could be so resilient. But their tools and toys were gone, beyond reach. Now, he would devour them all.