The Rise of Ancient Fury

by Ben Wolf

“Thank you.”

  Condor grinned at her. “Any time.”

  “Good luck catching me, though.” Lilly winked at him and dashed downward. When she looked back, Condor was close behind, but not close enough.

  She laughed, thankful to have him truly on her side.

  “This orange is already rotten, too!”

  A human soldier, one of Lumen’s recruits, tossed a shriveled brown ball aside. It hit the cobblestone street and splattered at Axel’s feet.

  The soldier looked up at him with terror in his eyes. “Imperator… I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Quiet,” Axel ordered. He had no interest in the soldier’s apologies. He had, however, taken an interest in the orange itself. “Pick it back up.”

  The soldier hopped up from his seat on a barrel and scurried over. He snatched up the orange—or some of it, anyway—and held it in his hands as he eyed Axel. He no doubt expected some sort of punishment, but Axel wasn’t going to levy any consequences against him for haphazardly tossing a rotten orange.

  But neither was Axel going to take a closer look at the orange by touching it himself, either.

  “Show it to me,” Axel said.

  The soldier’s eyebrows scrunched down in confusion, but he complied.

  The orange had indeed gone rotten. Its rind had taken on a bitter brown color, and its insides had darkened as well. It stank of the hyper-sweet scent of fruity decay.

  Axel nodded to him, and the soldier let the rotten fruit drop to the street again. “You said this wasn’t the first of these you had seen this way?”

  “No, Imperator,” the soldier said. “Practically the whole bushel has gone bad. And it’s not just the oranges. Other fruits are going rotten, too. The grain is drying out and turning black. Vegetables are turning brown too fast. Something is wrong. Perhaps a scourge of some sort?”

  Axel frowned, though his mask concealed it. “What about the fields surrounding the city? Have you heard any reports of similar things happening there?”

  The soldier shook his head. “No, but I’ve noticed the greenery throughout the city is doing the same thing. The leaves on the trees and bushes are brown already, but it’s not yet autumn. The grass is turning yellow, too.”

  “Imperator?” called a gruff voice from behind him.

  Axel turned back.

  A Saurian approached him with a large empty bucket in his arms. “Imperator, there is a problem with the water.”

  Axel’s eyes narrowed. What was it this time? “Which well?”

  “All of them,” the Saurian replied. “They seem to have dried up.”

  “Impossible.” Even as he said it, Axel’s gut churned. Perhaps it was possible. If Calum had been right about the King’s connection to Kanarah… “Show me.”

  The Saurian led him to the nearest well, around which a large crowd of both civilians and Lumen’s soldiers had gathered, all of them clamoring to get access to the water. Rather than trying to push his way through, Axel took flight and hovered over the well.

  Using his enhanced vision, he stared through the stone and down into the earth itself, searching for the water. He found some, but much farther down than the well could reach. And the longer he watched, the more the water seemed to be receding from the surface.

  Decaying fruits and vegetables. Dying trees and bushes. Diminishing water resources. It couldn’t all be coincidental.

  Axel had to know for sure. He had to know if anything could be done about it.

  He abandoned the Saurian and the people at the well and flew over the city back toward Valkendell. Normally, flying would’ve thrilled him as it had when he’d first tried it, but instead, the trepidation in his chest threatened to overwhelm him entirely.

  If the land really was dying, as Calum had suggested would happen, then how could they possibly fix it? They’d already killed the King, and if he truly was the heart and soul of Kanarah, had they doomed everyone to drought and famine in the process?

  When Axel arrived, he entered and headed straight for the garden. They had long since cleared away the vines and branches the King had erected over the entrance to keep his soldiers safe, so Axel strode right inside, only to stop short as soon as he laid eyes on the interior.

  It was exactly as he’d feared.

  Everything was dead.

  It had only been a few hours since they’d killed the King, but fully everything in the garden had already withered and died. The flowers had all shed their petals. The trees had dropped their leaves and their fruit. The branches had turned deathly gray, and the grass had gone brown.

  Rather than a verdant paradise, the garden had deteriorated into a wasteland like the Valley of the Tri-Lakes, all in a matter of hours.

  The sight twisted Axel’s gut into knots. Had they made a mistake? Had they condemned all of Kanarah to death?

  No, he reassured himself. Lumen can fix this. He has to.

  Axel left the garden behind and rushed to find him.

  Calum excused himself from his conversation with Valerie and Matthios, grateful that he finally had the chance to do so. When Lilly had flown off, he’d hardly been able to concentrate on anything aside from her and how horribly he’d handled all of this king-talk.

  Now that she’d returned, Calum would have his chance to try to make things right.

  As he and Lilly approached each other, Calum noticed Condor landing a good distance away. Their eyes met for an instant, then Condor headed over to confer with General Balena.

  Upon finding Lilly’s eyes again, Calum began to issue her an apology, but she grabbed hold of him, wrapped her arms around her neck, and kissed him, long and deep.

  It surprised him at first, but he leaned into it and kissed her in return, holding her close. Perhaps he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

  When Lilly finally released him, she spoke first. “I’m sorry.”

  Calum blinked at her. “Sorry for what? I should be apologizing to you.”

  “You should,” she agreed, “but I’m the one who flew off instead of talking to you. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve stayed.”

  Calum touched her face with his hand. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve considered you, and us, in all of this, and I didn’t.”

  Lilly wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his breastplate. “Promise me we’ll find a way to make this work.”

  Calum grinned, and his heart totally relaxed. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “I know,” she said, “but now you’re going to be the King of Kanarah. That’ll complicate things for us.”

  Calum chuckled. “Yeah, if we can defeat Lumen. I still have my doubts about that.”

  “One thing at a time,” Lilly said, still holding him. “Let’s just get through today first.”

  “I love you, Lilly,” Calum said.

  Lilly let go of him and looked into his eyes again. “I love you, too, Calum.”

  He leaned in for another kiss, and she met him in the middle.

  “Er-hemm.” Riley cleared his throat from nearby, and they cut their passion short.

  Calum hadn’t heard or seen him approach, even though they were essentially in the middle of an open field. Then again, he’d closed his eyes while he was kissing Lilly.

  “Yes?” Calum asked as he and Lilly let go of each other and faced Riley.

  “Gavridel is back,” Riley said. “Says it’ll take a few days to get back to the city, based on how far away we are. So it’s time to go, before things get any worse.”

  “Thank you,” Lilly said. “How are things with Windsor?”

  Riley’s shoulders slouched. “Not great, but I’d rather not talk about that right now.”

  “I understand. If you like, I can talk to her?” Lilly offered.

  “Thanks, but I think that’ll do more harm than good. She no doubt can hear everything we’re saying right now anyway,” Riley sighed, “so I’ll just continue to eat crow
until she comes around. Or doesn’t. Could go either way at this point.”

  Lilly nodded, and Calum empathized with him.

  “Hang in there, bud,” Calum said.

  “Trying.” Riley motioned toward the rest of their ramshackle army with his head. “I’d better get back over there. Don’t be long. Can’t retake Valkendell without a king to sit on the throne.”

  Calum huffed and shook his head. The idea of him possibly becoming King of Kanarah still baffled and amazed him, but he was doing his best to try to acclimate to the role anyway.

  As Riley headed back to join the group, Lilly said, “We should join them.”

  Calum would’ve much preferred to stay with her instead, but he knew she was right. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Before we do, though, I have a gift for you. Might help in the coming battle,” she said.

  Calum had expected her to kiss him again, which would’ve been great, but he’d guessed wrong. Instead, she opened the pouch at her hip and removed a glowing yellow stone. It was similar to the crystalline crown on her head, but somehow more vibrant in color, almost as if lightning itself dwelled inside.

  The Aerostone.

  She extended it toward him. “Take it.”

  Calum stared down at the stone. It was a kind thought, but he couldn’t possibly accept it. “I can’t take this. It’s sacred to your people. Without it, Windgales can’t become Wisps.”

  “And it’ll enable you to fly,” Lilly said.

  Calum blinked at her. “It’ll what?”

  Lilly grinned, and a hint of mischief glinted in her blue eyes. “Riley realized it. He recovered it after I threw it to the Windgales so they could become Wisps. He returned it to me and showed me. He said he didn’t want to be able to fly, though. Can you believe that?”

  Calum’s eyebrows rose. The thought of a flying Werewolf was truly the stuff of nightmares. “Crazy.”

  “So take it.” She took hold of his wrist and placed it in his hand.

  A lightness unlike anything he’d ever felt washed over him and mingled with his body. He didn’t understand it at first, but the more he concentrated on it, the more it made sense. With nothing but a thought, he lifted off the ground and continued to ascend higher and higher.

  By the time he finally looked down, he was at least fifty feet up in the air. Lilly had accompanied him on his journey upward, and it was a good thing, too, because when Calum looked down, he freaked out and almost dropped the stone.

  Then he began to fall.

  She grabbed him and clamped her hand overtop of his, which still gripped the stone. Using her flight ability and strength, she slowed his descent, all the while instructing him, “Fly, Calum! Release your fears and embrace the wildness of the air.”

  As the two of them plummeted from the sky, Calum clenched his eyes shut and tried to do what she’d said. They eased to a stop only a few feet off the ground and hovered there.

  When Calum opened his eyes, Lilly was beaming at him.

  “You did it,” she said. “Now try again. I’ll go with you.”

  Calum exhaled a deep breath, focused on the Aerostone’s power, and launched upward once again.

  Thanks to falling off his ladder, Gill now had a lump on the back of his head to go with the scar on the front of it. Jake had tended to him, good boy that he was, while they both watched the mammoth brown thing still rising out of the Central Lake.

  It had started as a pillar-like structure that extended from the waters, far wider than any boat Gill had ever seen, and taller than any of their masts, too. As it rose, it not only got taller but widened further, which seemed necessary just to support its own mass. Before long, it would surpass even the height of the distant mountains.

  Gill had figured the size of the thing would end up displacing a lot of the lake water, but instead, it appeared as if the water level had actually gone down. He’d spent most of his life staring at that lake, whether from the back porch of his shanty or, in his younger days, on a boat, fishing, so he could tell when something was amiss.

  The water level definitely hadn’t risen any, and the more he watched the phenomenon, the more certain he became that the water was draining from the lake. Why that was happening, he didn’t know. After all, he’d been staring at the surface of the water for nearly fifty years, not at whatever was underneath, unless it was in a net or attached to the end of a fishing line.

  As he watched, Jake pointed at the big brown column. “Look! Do you see that?”

  Gill’s eyes weren’t so good anymore. “See what?”

  “That… thing. There’s something on the… whatever the big thing is. There’s something on it, sticking out,” Jake insisted, still pointing. “It wasn’t there before.”

  “Whatchu sayin’?” Gill squinted, but he couldn’t see a darned thing. “I don’ see nothin’.”

  “Wait here.” Jake ran off, only to return a couple minutes later with a brass spyglass. He extended it to its full length and looked through it. “It’s there! It’s there! Look!”

  “What?” Gill accepted the spyglass from him and held it up to his eye. The glass was scratched and fuzzy around the edges, but it did magnify his view considerably. Even so, all he saw was the brown pillar itself. “Still don’ see nothin’.”

  Jake adjusted the spyglass’s angle for Gill, who slapped his hand away.

  “I got it,” he growled. He followed the column up until something flickered in his vision.

  Something he recognized but hadn’t seen for well over a decade.

  He lowered the spyglass.

  “Well, drown me, drag me out, an’ dig me a grave,” Gill said.

  “Did you see it?”

  “’Course I seen it,” Gill said. “I ain’t blind.”

  “How it is possibly there?” Jake asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.

  On that, Gill had to agree.

  It made absolutely no sense for something so colossal to have grown out of a lake, so tall that it would soon tower over the distant mountain peaks.

  Especially a tree.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  In the three days following the King’s death, food in Solace had become frighteningly scarce, and finding water was no easier.

  Thanks to the gift of Lumen’s power, Axel no longer had to eat much, drink much water, or sleep, but those privileges didn’t extend to the tens of thousands of people dwelling in Solace. While Lumen’s army focused on rebuilding the city’s main gate, Axel had taken to searching the city and an ever-widening area for food and water so he could send people to claim it.

  The end result was all the more negative. Throngs of people had fled the city, unwilling to be trapped in a place with no food, water, or prospects of finding either anywhere nearby.

  When Axel asked Lumen if he wanted the soldiers to keep them there, Lumen had waved off his concerns entirely. Apparently, whether they lived or died here in Solace or outside the city was of no consequence to Lumen.

  Instead, the new King of Kanarah had focused on something entirely different—something secret and, Axel feared, terrible.

  After they’d slain the king, Lumen’s soldiers had captured hundreds of the King’s men. As he’d done following the battle for Kanarah City, Lumen had offered them the choice to either join forces and swear fealty to him as the new King, or they would simply be killed.

  To Axel’s surprise, hardly any of them agreed to join Lumen. It had struck him as foolish at first, but the more he watched the King’s men deny Lumen’s offer, the more Axel realized they weren’t fools at all.

  Rather, they were loyal men—loyal to a fault. Even with their King dead, they refused to bend to the whims of another.

  Lumen hadn’t killed them right away, like Axel had expected he would. Instead, he touched each man’s chest, shooting a spike of light into their hearts.

  The men screamed every time, but they didn’t die. They just collapsed, breathing hard, as something within Lumen’s power spread thro
ughout their bodies like a plague. Then their desperate eyes began to glow faintly red, and their skin took on a sickly greenish pallor.

  Even now, those same men still languished in the dungeons below Valkendell—dungeons that, prior to Lumen’s arrival had been empty. When Axel had first gone down to set potential prisoners free to join Lumen’s side during the battle, he’d found no one inside.

  What was the point of having dungeons if the King hadn’t thrown anyone into them?

  After that first day, when Lumen had driven spikes into the hundreds of prisoners now crammed into only a few dozen calls, Axel hadn’t returned. He had no reason to. The soldiers were going to die, and someone else would clean up the mess.

  Frankly, given the sorry state of the city, Lumen had done them a favor. Fewer mouths to feed. Fewer parched lips desperate for water.

  It was hard enough to care for their own soldiers, many of whom had resorted to eating whatever rotten food they could find. Others had chosen to go without entirely, fasting rather than deigning to eat wretched food.

  Axel had taken his concerns to Lumen multiple times, but always to no avail. Lumen, he’d decided, was either unwilling or incapable of fixing the problem. He’d only insisted that all would be put right in the end. He claimed that once they had truly defeated and destroyed the last remnant of the King’s followers, Kanarah would be saved.

  What could Axel do other than believe him?

  He could search for food and water, like he’d been doing. Beyond that, all his newfound power and strength amounted to nothing—at least until the final battle began.

  And now that he could see a mass of soldiers in silver armor gleaming in the distance, it wouldn’t be much longer until this war finally and truly came to an end.

  Throughout the course of three days, Gill and Jake had watched the enormous tree in the Central Lake sprout innumerable branches, all of them covered with vibrant green leaves.

  It seemed to have finally stopped growing upward, and now it extended outward instead. A canopy of green leaves blanketed the top of the tree, so thick that no sunlight could penetrate it to reach the lake waters below.