Relic of the God

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  The white cloaks of his soldiers contrasted with the tainted black armour of the Darkakin, the two now mixing in the lower city outside the main gates. With any luck, he thought, the Darkakin would take the brunt of the casualties in penetrating Velia’s outer defences and his soldiers could sweep through the city afterward. Then, he could finally show the world his true power. The magic he had learned in Kaliban was his true strength and he wished only to use it for the will of Valanis.

  “Thallan!” Samandriel called from her horse beside him.

  Merkaris tapped his horse to follow the spear-wielding general. The Darkakin and Northmen alike moved out of their way, though the king suspected they feared Samandriel more than he. Adorned in black and gold armour with shadowy cloaks and hoods, both Samandriel and Thallan screamed danger to his instincts. It was a feeling Merkaris had come to enjoy…

  Samandriel jumped off her horse and joined Thallan in the middle of the field. The master of the sword had appeared in a deep trance with his arms stretched out at his sides. When the generals finally met there was no love between them, though Merkaris could never recall anything but contempt between any of the Hand. He gave his horse over to one of his knights and came to stand beside them, as if he shared their command.

  “Where did this storm come from?” he asked, feeling the magic in the air.

  “Observant as ever, King Tion,” Thallan replied.

  “This is beyond any human mage,” Samandriel said.

  “I have been trying to slow it down. It must be the princess...” Thallan stuck out his tongue in the manner of a snake tasting the air.

  “No brother, this is the elder I faced in Darkwell. It stinks of his magic!”

  “There are elves inside the city?” Merkaris asked absently. He was eager to test his magic against another elf. Killing the princess’ aid, Mӧrygan Mӧrgӧ, had been intoxicating, a drug he needed more of.

  Thallan ignored the question. “There was a display of magic above the gates. The catapults seem to have taken care of it, but the storm continues to build.”

  “Perhaps you killed the princess,” Samandriel said with a wicked grin.

  “There are more magic users inside those walls than elves.” Thallan turned to the albino Darkakin beside him. “Overlord Kett, continue bombardment on the gates.”

  The albino savage snorted before relaying the orders. He appeared quite the beast to Merkaris, with thick, red tattoos tracing his skin and half a head of white hair swept to one side. It was perhaps the massive cleaver strapped to his back, crusted with old blood, that would most have the king avoiding hand-to-hand combat with him. Not that he would ever need to resort to such barbaric behaviour, not when he possessed a wand and the knowledge to use it.

  “Have your men prepare the battering ram,” Thallan ordered Merkaris. “That shield won't hold for much longer.”

  Despite the irritation that came with being given an order, Merkaris smiled. “I am the battering ram…”

  36

  Queen to queen

  Adilandra felt her stomach drop when she looked through Ӧlli’s eyes. Valanis’ forces had almost doubled with the arrival of a new army. The queen’s initial moment of elation was quashed when this new army from the north sided with the Darkakin rather than challenging them. The dark elf had already corrupted the hearts of men it seemed. Velia was now crawling with savages and beasts of war, all clambering over one another to spill blood.

  Reyna…

  Adilandra called the name and the owl’s head turned back to the battlements, where the two opposing forces collided. The battle was that of fury and terror. The Velians fought to keep their people safe and the Darkakin fought for nothing but the fun of it. Ӧlli’s black eyes fixed on the central battlements, above the gates. Reyna was injured! The princess was on the floor and not moving, but the knight, Nathaniel, kept any attackers at bay. The man moved like a wraith, protecting that which he clearly loved. Adilandra found no hope in his courage, for her daughter was still lying motionless on the floor.

  She had to help her!

  Torn between watching Reyna and actually doing something to help, Adilandra felt rage building inside of her. The queen hadn't felt this helpless and angry since her captivity in Malaysai when she had been forced to fight in the arena. For too long, Adilandra had watched her daughter fight in the battles she and all of her kind should have been fighting. The struggles and the pain should have been hers, not Reyna’s. A wave of resolution washed over the queen of the elves, and if she had to swim to Velia herself, she would be leaving right now.

  The spell faded and her connection to the owl was severed in the blink of an eye. The sea breeze washed over her, bringing her elven senses back to life. It looked to be another clear day in Hook of the World, though the sky was still filled with dragons. The smell of several dead whales wafted up the beach and threatened to have Adilandra throw up the fish Galanӧr had cooked the previous night.

  The queen ignored the distracting sights and sounds and searched the bay for any sign of Rainael the emerald star. The green dragon was sat in the surf, regal as ever with her head pointed to the north. Adilandra set off at a jog, past Galanӧr who was stood on top of a dune running through his sword routines.

  “What’s wrong?” he called after her.

  “We’re leaving!” Adilandra replied without stopping.

  The queen splashed through the water and waded in up to her knees until she stood before the green dragon. Rainael glanced down at her, giving nothing away. A dragon’s face was impossible to read with unfamiliar eyes, but Adilandra had hoped for something more. The queen of dragons kept her eyes on the horizon and her emotions in check, choosing to share nothing with the elf.

  “Rainael, emerald star of the skies…” Adilandra waited for some recognition that never came. “I have seen the terrors unfolding in Illian. Valanis has struck sooner than we hoped.” Adilandra used the dark elf’s name to get Rainael’s attention. “The Darkakin have attacked Velia and my…” The queen lowered her head, still able to see Reyna lying on the battlements. “My daughter is there. She has been injured.”

  When Adilandra looked back up at Rainael, the dragon’s startling blue eyes were staring back at her. It was impossible to stand under such scrutiny and not feel intimidated. Galanӧr was standing in the water now, concern etched across his perfect features. Adilandra knew better than to give the other elf any regard when standing before the emerald star. Rainael commanded respect and being distracted by any other would have Adilandra’s words fall on deaf ears.

  “We cannot stay any longer,” she continued. “You have the power to change this war and the longer we wait the more ground Valanis gains.” Rainael snorted and lifted her head back to the horizon. “I know we agreed to wait and meet up with Adriel and Gideon, but the Darkakin moved faster than we could have imagined. They are laying siege to Velia right now…” The queen of elves could think of nothing more to say and it appeared she had lost Rainael’s attention. Images of Reyna flashed before her eyes, driving her on. “You’re the only ones who can turn the tide. We must leave. You have an obligation to help Illian now -”

  Adilandra took an instinctive step back. Her last words had Rainael peering down at her again, only this time, a sense of irritation emanated from the dragon, leaving the elf bristling with the shared emotion. She was confident that Rainael would never harm her, but it would be stupid to forget what creature was standing over her. Rainael was still a dragon, a predator that knew no equal, and a creature that would not suffer fools.

  “Gideon is a Dragorn now,” Adilandra explained. “The bond between man and dragon has been reforged. Right now, thousands of humans, all potential Dragorn, are threatened by Valanis, just as my kind was during The Dark War. Garganafan gave his life in that war -” The queen held her tongue when Rainael shook her wings and roared into the sky. In hindsight, Adilandra thought, perhaps Garganafan’s sacrifice was something the dragon didn’t need reminding of.
/>   “Adilandra…” Galanӧr called softly with an edge of warning in his voice.

  The queen waved him away and took a breath. She had to reach her daughter and if the elf had to challenge a dragon to do it, then she would.

  “Reyna has fought on her own for too long,” Adilandra told Galanӧr. “They all have. It’s time we reminded Valanis and his ilk that there are things even they should fear.” Her eyes looked up and met Rainael’s with her last words.

  Rainael whipped her head around and her tail extended as the dragon came to stand. Adilandra did her best to navigate the enormous creature, who was now striding onto the beach. Galanӧr waded over to his queen, his protective nature coming out as it often did around her. They watched Rainael stamp across the beach, a display that garnered the attention of the rest of her kind.

  “What’s happening?” Galanӧr asked.

  Adilandra wasn't sure. She could see why the Dragorn had been so vital in the past. Rainael grunted at Beldroga the great hunter, who quickly found his feet and turned to the majority of those gathering around them. His roar was a magnitude above Rainael’s and it soon rippled across the dragons, who all responded with their own mighty roar. As one, they launched into the sky, their wings kicking up clouds of sand on their way into the sky. Rainael turned to face the elves and lowered her head, exposing her neck.

  “I think…” Adilandra couldn't believe it herself. “I think we’re going to war.”

  37

  On the wall

  Asher wiped the blood from his eyes to better see his enemy. The Darkakin were throwing themselves at Velia’s defences without a care. The ranger was forced to plant his feet further apart to secure his footing on the battlements, which had quickly become slick with the blood of so many. From North to south, the walls were being overrun by savages. The Velians and the Graycoats put up a decent fight, but the Darkakin had the numbers. Many took note of Asher’s rampage and simply avoided him on their way out of the siege tower, heading instead for the stairs into the city.

  “Block the stairs!” came a cry, though it was impossible to identify the voice.

  A group of Velians broke away from Asher’s position and made for the stairs, leaving the ranger exposed to a flanking attack. A spiked pommel to the face had the Darkakin in front of him falling away, staggering those behind him. All it took was the parrying of three more savages, however, to keep his sword from felling the man behind him. Asher could see the serrated blade coming for him out of the corner of his eye. Kicking the Darkakin would be his only defence, but it would compromise his footing and see him laid on his back, at the mercy of the other three.

  It mattered little a moment later, when Faylen appeared from within the chaos and side-kicked the Darkakin so hard he was pushed over the wall. Asher spun his broadsword around, lifting his attackers’ blades and exposing their midriff. Their new armour was good, but the ranger swiped his sword horizontally and cut all three of them across the belly, where the chest plate should have met their belts.

  A strong, elven hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him back, allowing the Graycoats to rush in and take over stemming the flow. It gave Asher a moment’s pause and the chance to catch his breath. The ranger could feel his lungs burning and his chest felt tight. If he survived the day, he knew there would be more wounds and aches he was yet to feel.

  A series of fireballs exploded against the king’s platform, shaking the battlements under his feet. Asher turned to inspect the damage and realised he was no longer where he had started, but instead, further down the northern wall. Nathaniel and Reyna were nowhere to be seen and Glaide and Tauren weren't far off, fighting on the other side of the colossal statue that towered above them all. The elves, Ezeric and Nalmar, darted about the battlements like demons, their scimitars a blur in their hands. The elven steel had no trouble slicing through the Darkakin armour, and yet the pair didn't have a drop of blood on them. The same couldn't be said for Faylen, who was streaked in the red stuff.

  “We need to get back to Reyna and Nathaniel!” the elf shouted over the melee.

  Asher agreed, searching the wall for any sign of them. That was when he heard Glaide grunt in pain behind them. The older ranger was on his back, one hand holding a pointed spear at bay while the other batted a sword away. Asher instinctively ran to help his old friend, shoving Velians and Graycoats aside and cutting through any stray Darkakin to reach him. Using his momentum, the ranger barged into the spear-wielding savage, knocking him into the sword-wielder and giving Glaide the chance to find his feet. Faylen was an ever constant presence, keeping any who sought to harm Asher away.

  Tauren burst from the fray, jumping over the dead, to attack the Darkakin who had put Glaide on his back. Asher drove his sword down into the first, ending him immediately. The second had enough time to raise his serrated blade again, but it might as well have been a twig in his hand for all the help it gave him against Tauren. The southerner danced around the savage, opening arteries with every swipe of his short-swords.

  “Jonus…” Asher met Glaide’s eyes, conveying more with a look than he could say with words.

  “I’m not leaving you to fight up here,” the older ranger replied.

  Asher glanced at the city. “Some of the Darkakin have already found their way into the streets -”

  “I said I’m not leaving you to fight up here!” Glaide pushed his way between Asher and Tauren and skewered the Darkakin who made it through the Graycoats.

  Faylen dashed into the mob and assisted the knights with bringing down the savages. It didn’t take long before she was overwhelmed by the Darkakin, who charged for her instead of the wall of Graycoats. Asher moved to help, but Ezeric and Nalmar had already entered the melee and replaced the three fallen knights.

  “What’s Tai’garn doing?” Tauren asked, after redirecting a pair of Karathan soldiers to the next siege tower along.

  Asher observed the thick, grey clouds that formed from thin air above them. They promised a great storm, but there had yet to be any help from the elder.

  “Glaide.” Asher gripped the man’s shoulder. “I need you to go and see what’s taking so long.”

  “No,” the ranger replied stubbornly. “I told you -”

  “Glaide!” Asher gripped him tightly and locked eyes with his old friend. “None of us have long left on this wall. I need you to relay this to Tai’garn and tell him to get a move on!”

  After a moment, Glaide sighed and blinked slowly in resignation. “You had better save some for me.”

  Asher patted him on the arm. “Go!”

  Glaide ran for the stairs, pausing only briefly to dispatch two Darkakin who got in his way. Asher watched him go, sure that he had just saved the old ranger’s life.

  “Asher!” Faylen emerged from the front of the wall with fresh blood on her leathers. “We need to keep Reyna safe…”

  The ranger knew exactly what Faylen meant and he agreed. The princess was potentially the only person who could prevent the elves from attacking and plunging the battle into utter chaos.

  Asher looked to Tauren, but the young man gestured down the wall. “Go!” he urged. “Find Reyna and Nathaniel. We’ve got this side.”

  “Just stay alive,” Asher replied.

  The two parted and Faylen fell in beside him, both running back towards the king’s platform. Several Darkakin broke free from the Velians’ defences and challenged the pair, but all soon found their end at the point of a sword. It was the hooks that finally gave them pause. A hook and rope shot across the battlement and dragged along the stone until it caught on the edge of the wall, in between the towers. Dozens more flew over the battlements and were soon followed by giant ladders.

  “Shit…” was all Asher could muster, as yet more Darkakin climbed onto the ramparts.

  Two Graycoats rushed over and attempted to push the ladder away from the wall, but it was too late. The weight pressing against the ladders was too great and the savages found their way to the top. The
first to touch the wall were impaled and left to fall back into the field below, but they inevitably overwhelmed the Velians and Gracoats, adding more Darkakin to the battle.

  Running along the battlements was now impossible, with every available space taken up by fighting. Asher and Faylen threw themselves back into it, hacking and slicing anything that wasn't wearing a red cloak or a long, leather coat. The constant jarring from parrying so many swords was taking its toll on the ranger’s arms and wrists. It was only a matter of time before his hands would go numb and he would no longer be able to hold the broadsword.

  The men surrounding the nearest siege tower were suddenly thrown back with many not getting back up at all. A behemoth of grotesque proportions had stepped off the small bridge wielding a double-sided blade as big as any man. The Darkakin wore a bucket-like helmet and single gauntlet with nothing but a ragged loincloth to cover his legs. Arrows protruded his torso as well as a dagger that ran through his ribs. None seemed to bother the beast. The Darkakin roared, sending ripples through his swollen belly, before swinging his large sword around, catching several Velians at once.

  “Go right,” Faylen suggested. “I’ll go left!”

  The two split up, intending to attack the big man from either side. A blur to Asher’s left split his attention and he noticed Darkakin falling to the floor in quick succession along the ramparts. What was bringing them down remained a mystery until the familiar cheer of a hardy dwarf found his ears. Riding atop his warhog, Doran son of Dorain rammed his way through the savages waving a short, fat sword in one hand and a single-bladed axe in the other. Any who weren't brought down by the hog’s tusks were cut down by the dwarf.

  With a battle-cry on his lips, the dwarf leaped from the warhog and crashed into the solid chest of the behemoth. Doran’s weight was enough to drive the beast to the ground with an almighty thud. A ferocity and brutality rarely seen in the dwarf emerged forth and saw Doran hack at the behemoth’s chest and head with both sword and axe. The armoured ranger didn't stop until the large Darkakin was still and his insides were indistinguishable from his outsides.