As he descended four floors, he glanced down at his hands and questioned the limits of his new power.
This must be Ikalreev magic. Am I a mage? This sensation is unfamiliar and overwhelming, but consuming.
He raced down a new hallway and refocused on escaping the dark castle while killing his enemy. When he turned at the first corner, he stopped dead in his tracks and leaped backward as a giant clawed hand raked the air in front of him.
An unconscious lightning bolt shot out and severed the attacking demon’s arm. The demon reeled back in pain and held on to its stump. A red veil washed over Faolan’s eyes, and he pointed a sword toward the demon. An intense lightning bolt ran down the sword’s length and pierced the demon, creating a hole in the demon’s chest before it collapsed.
Faolan paused before passing the carcass, staring at the black blood running from its torso. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he thought he heard a whispering. He wondered, Did I tell it to attack, or did it attack by itself?
He shook his head and discarded the thoughts, then descended another three floors. He was fighting for control of not only his mind but his body. The magic was powerful, and the magic heart was commanding Faolan to bow to its aggressive might.
He turned a corner as he fought with the magic and saw a demon, bigger than the last, standing before him and blocking his way.
He did not hesitate and charged the demon, savagely roaring as he closed the gap. Small lightning bolts extended from his knuckles, but the lightning barely affected this new breed of demon. Its skin only sizzled in reaction to each electrical strike.
Why are you different; how do you resist the magic? he thought.
Faolan swung his swords at the demon, believing they might injure the creature like they had the Initiate, but the beast was prepared and matched his attacks swing for swing and parry for parry. Faolan roared at the demon, looking for a gap in its defense. He could not pierce its solid skin, his swords bounced off its hard exterior, and his bolts’ electric charge were neutralized by its stonelike surface.
The demon’s claws raked across Faolan’s right shoulder, spraying blood along the wall. He stumbled backward and pushed through the pain of the new laceration. The fresh wound was less painful than the torments he had endured under the seer’s influence, but his shoulder burned like fire.
He regained his composure and raced toward the demon, extending both swords forward. The blades lit up as both were bathed in an intense sheath of lightning. The blades pierced and slid into the beast’s abdomen up to their hilts. The rancid flesh around Faolan’s swords charred and smoked, but the demon did not die.
One of the beast’s heavy fists swung down at Faolan. He dodged the claws as they raked the air, nearly ripping his head from his body. The demon opened its big mouth, lined with gnarled teeth, and roared at Faolan in frustration.
Faolan’s swords remained lodged in the demon’s abdomen. He looked at them as a thought crept into his mind, then twin lightning bolts shot out of his palms and into the swords’ hilts, electrifying the demon from the inside. The demon’s movements stopped, and its muscles went rigid. It stumbled and slammed into the wall.
Faolan ceased the electrical attack, hesitating as the demon shook its head and straightened itself back up onto its feet.
The beast was stunned and disoriented but regained its awareness. Its intense gaze found its adversary. It growled and charged the escaped prisoner again.
Again, Faolan shot lightning bolts into the swords’ hilts. The electricity ran through the demon’s body, causing its muscles to spasm. Faolan didn’t relent this time; his twin bolts turned into forked lightning, and the rage in his face grew intense. He wanted to take its life, yearning for it to die. Retribution would be his.
The lightning overtook the monstrosity, and the demon’s life ended as a stench of burned meat rose in the air, and its body collapsed to the floor. Faolan continued shooting electricity into the humanoid monster long after it had died and watched it spasm with an unsound smile. He enjoyed watching it suffer; its kind had killed his parents and everyone he knew. They tormented him and took everything from him. He would show them pain and kill them all.
A new howl sounded from farther down the hall.
Another opponent? Faolan smiled as he began to feel enjoyment from killing the evil beasts. He ripped his swords from the carcass and looked down at his blades.
They killed them all. I am the only one who remains. The unstable individual within revealed himself with a crazed expression, as his eyes lifted with an intense and distant gaze. A terrifying atmosphere surrounded him.
He extended his right sword to the wall and walked, scraping the metal along the cold stone. The eerie sound filled the hall, echoing down the corridor. That high-pitched metallic scraping sounded like music to Faolan as he closed his eyes. A harmony of grating pitches sung through the stale air as he calmly stepped down the hall.
He could hear growling and snarling at the end of the hall. He could sense the demons’ seething hatred for him. Their dark nature seeped into the atmosphere from their petrified hearts, potent enough for him to feel.
Faolan approached a great domed room with seven symmetrical hallways, a central travel point for the halls in the keep. He knew the demons waited for him in that wide room; there was an advantage for them to not be held in by walls.
Aili is dead. He felt pain in his heart.
Faolan slowly opened his eyes and revealed the pair of glowing white orbs as they slipped out from beneath their eyelids with a malicious stare. Lightning erupted from Faolan’s fists as he emerged out of the dark hallway. The lightning struck demons and barren wall alike. Devastating forks of electricity streaked through the air. The demons backed away, uncertain of the approaching individual and his destructive power.
A lightning bolt struck a demon, killing it on impact, and a loud thunderclap deafened the room. Faolan’s rage incarnate, lightning bolt after lightning bolt shot out of his fists or from the ends of his swords, killing all they touched. Each bolt produced a thunderclap. The stone keep shook under the sundering vibrations.
If the demons were not immediately killed, then they covered their ears with their hands as they cowered away. The weakest ones fled the room.
Aili is dead. They had ripped her from him. He would never see her again, and that thought tore violently at his shattering mind.
Bodies piled up as the weaker demons fled and the stronger ones edged into the room. Size did not determine their strength as some were small but formidable. A few had rocklike hides, like the demon in the hallway, and those Faolan attacked with lightning-sheathed swords. He pierced, cleaved, and sliced their bodies with his unique blades bathed in rage-born magic. They felt his fury in full measure as his intense gaze showed that he feared them no more.
Aili is dead.
Chaos consumed the room as his rage intensified, so much so that demons began turning to ash as the lightning strengthened in power. A poof of ash exploded, then another as massive bolts struck the demons.
Faolan reached the middle of the room and unleashed his anger completely.
“Raahh!” he roared.
An explosion of electricity filled the entire room. Not a particle of air was left unaffected. Giant beams of electricity shot down the entire widths of all seven hallways connected to the room. The thunderous clap produced by the massive burst of electricity caused some of the castle’s outer walls to explode from the devastating change in pressure. Chunks of wall and stone fragments showered the court grounds surrounding the central keep.
The electricity stopped and left no evil life remaining within the keep’s halls. Only stone and ash were left in its wake. A silence hung in the air as a breath filled Faolan’s lungs. His ears rang for a moment as they adjusted from the magical explosion. A trickle of blood flowed from his ears.
Faolan stood alone in the wide room, his rage abated temporarily as he caught his breath.
He c
hose a hallway and walked down it. It didn’t take long for him to come upon a new spiral staircase, which led him down five more floors. The spiral staircase opened into a massive chamber.
He stepped into the high-ceilinged room and saw an old weathered throne layered in dust, sitting at one end. Tall columns lined the entire room’s length, and time-worn tapestries covered the walls.
The room was minimally decorated. One item caught his eye: an old empire’s insignia, which seemed vaguely familiar to him. A memory flashed in his mind of a time he had long since forgotten. The memory was not about Faolan, the person he was, but another personality whom he could not name. In the memory, he stood in the old king’s throne room exactly where he stood now. The colors in the room were so vibrant, and life filled the room. He saw people walking around in elegant apparel, and soldiers in formidable armor standing at their posts.
Their clothing was not like elven or human garments. It was of an unusual style with plentiful fabric and a regal appearance. Dresses with silk-flowing hems embroidered with elegant designs and rich colors. Suits with tight trim and clean lines, perfectly symmetrical yet artistic. Everyone had multilayered ensembles for a cold climate. A layer of light snow could be seen on the floor near the cracks in the main keep doors.
The brief flash of the past was ripped away from him as the memory faded.
He remained still as the memory lingered in his mind. He was surprised and stunned. He stood there for a moment as he recollected his surroundings. He put a hand over his eyes and breathed deep. What is happening to me? he thought as struggled to find reality.
He walked toward the old worn throne. It was missing pieces, and cracks wove through its wood-and-stone structure. The throne’s intricate design peeked through the years of wear and neglect. As he neared the throne, he reached out toward a design engraved on the high headboard. Faolan traced it with his fingers and a breath escaped him as he began to remember . . .
He was kneeling before the throne, eyes locked on the lavish red carpet below him. His gaze didn’t rise. He wore steel vambraces and gauntlets made with expert forging techniques. He heard a voice in his memory, though he saw no face or identity to accompany it.
“Stand for me, Prime Bastion of the Volnarian Shield . . .”
Abruptly, the memory ended, and he staggered backward. He shook his head and tried to find his legs. He placed a hand against his head and thought, I must get out of here.
He shook off the breath-stealing memories, not knowing what to make of them. He turned and raced away from the throne. He saw tall iron doors at the opposite end and ran toward them. He pushed one side open and walked over the threshold.
Immediately, he felt the cold bite of the fresh artic air. He looked around and saw barren land, from where he stood all the way to the ancient fortress’s walls. Watchtowers taller than the castle lined the defensive wall. The black stone wall’s ironbound gate stood straight before him, but to make it there he would have to push past the thousands of demons that stood in his way.
“Kill him!” Telfaldetrous roared, as it emerged from the thick mass of demons. Its chest was still smoking from the lightning-bolt strike it had endured.
Howls and shrieks came from every direction. Flying demons dove in steep arcs at him from high in the air, and land-bound creatures charged him.
The ground exploded several times in front of Faolan; a thick cloud of dirt expanded violently through the air. Three burly forms burst out of the expanding dirt haze, the cloud wisping behind their racing forms. They looked like giant moles, except they were bigger. Much bigger. Walking upright, they stood nine feet tall. Slitted eyes peered out over long, pointy, flat noses, and razor-sharp teeth lined their elongated maws. The muscles in their arms and torsos were bulky, to support their oversize, clawed paws.
Faolan shot lightning bolts out of his hands and killed several flying demons. They crashed into the ground, lifeless and burning. He shot a lightning bolt at one of the tunnelers, striking its chest but failing to injure the ground-dwelling beast. The tunneler pushed right through the Ikalreev magic, unharmed and unhindered.
Faolan released multiple bolts at the tunnelers. The magic slowed their movements for only split seconds at a time. He then released all that he could, and lightning repeatedly shot from his fists in forked chaos. The lightning hit the demons all over their bodies, but it was no use.
The tunnelers closed the gap and increased their speed. One tunneler lowered its shoulder as it barreled forward with all its force.
Faolan leaped to the side, barely dodging the muscular form and its crushing force. He had nearly no time to recover before a second tunneler swung down with its oversize claws. Faolan rolled to the side and dodged the second attack with sloppy footing as their speed outmatched his, and he struggled to stay ahead of them. He scrambled back to his feet and sprinted toward the gate. He ran straight toward the mass of demons but away from the tunnelers.
Lightning forked from his fingers and killed random demons far out in front of him who were not immune to his electrical power. He released a lightning bolt toward Telfaldetrous, but it missed its intended mark as his jailor ran behind another demon. The shielding demon dropped lifeless from the strike.
A new tunneler exploded out of the ground to his right, dirt cloud billowing around its erupting mass, and its huge claws raked the air near Faolan.
The fleeing prisoner veered to the left and just barely dodged the tunneler’s attack, but in doing so he ran straight into the outstretched arm of another tunneler as it exploded out of the ground. The halting force threw him from his feet, slamming his back into the ground and flipping his feet up into the air. Faolan was so close to freedom but could only watch as the bulky demon reeled back an arm in preparation for a killing blow. He lay there, stunned from the hit.
He watched as the sharp claws descended toward his face.
The next moment, a figure appeared next to the demon. The figure’s slender blade pierced clear through the demon’s neck, but Faolan had failed to see the sudden attack. It happened too quickly for his eyes to catch. The demon collapsed to its knees and slumped over; black blood seeped from its long mouth.
The figure’s conical hat eerily turned, and penetrating, color-changing irises stared down at Faolan. A chill ran through Faolan as it felt like the stranger stared straight into his soul. A strong wind pushed against Waremasu’s cloak, his wake catching up to him.
Faolan looked around and noticed every demon had stopped; not even one moved.
Why? he wondered.
The evil ones stared at the stranger. Some backed away.
What Faolan didn’t know and what he could not see, they did. They knew who the cloaked one was, even though his wings were not visible, and who was the stronger. They dared not oppose the fallen angel hidden beneath the conical hat and enveloping cloak.
“Why do you hide them, angel? Afraid I will rip your wings from your back? You will not be able to stop what is coming. Soon there will be too many of us,” Telfaldetrous snarled at him from afar.
Waremasu cared little for the demon’s threats. He bent down and grabbed Faolan’s shirt, throwing the frail prisoner onto his shoulder.
“Let me go!” Faolan shouted. “Unhand me, now!”
But the stranger only tightened his grip around the struggling man. Then they disappeared, flashing beyond sight. They left only a gale in their wake.
The demons howled and shrieked in frustration that their prisoner had been taken from them. They beat their chests and pounded the ground in rage.
Telfaldetrous growled, “I will find you, angel!”
Chapter 12
Fragile Armistice
Food stores will dwindle, and cultural differences will strain a tenuous cohesion. Be kind to one another and bind together, for life means more than pride.
The Ikalreev Prophecies 23:9–10
Atop the outer wall’s battlements, many elven archers stood watch. Some patrolled, while other
s were stationed in the newly constructed towers that straddled its crest. The top of each tower was expansive enough to hold four ballistae and a platoon of archers. Another platoon would man the many arrow slits along its multitiered spearhead.
Above the outer gate, Ehreion stood on a box and overlooked the farmlands below. He saw the farmers tending to their fields and livestock. They looked so small from his vantage point. He was still surprised that the elves resorted to such a lifestyle.
He looked back at King Kvaran, who leaned against the battlement wall in deep thought, and said, “You told me their trees were a thousand feet tall. These are only a third that size, and the citizens of Lesley do not live in them.”
Kvaran lifted his troubled gaze. “I told you the forest elves used to inhabit thousand-foot trees, but not here. The people of Lithilias and Filithia dwell around the canopy, but not in the trees.”
“So where are the thousand-foot trees?” Ehreion asked.
“The trees you speak of are called Iapeusri Sequorid. They grow in a cool, fog-laden land far to the east, past the Adun Gor desert. The ancient ancestors of the forest elves dwell there.”
Ehreion glanced around. “Then I suppose the architecture did not come with them, either?”
“Filithia and Lithilias have traits of the beautiful architecture of the ancestors, but nothing like you would see in the east. Beautiful designs, rare marble, and alloys. A faint glow would emanate into the air from magically imbued crystals inlaid in the marble, so no candles or sunlight were needed to see.
“The trees were thick and strong enough to hold multilevel structures in the air, high above the ground. When I would look over the balcony edges, I could barely see the ground through the misty air. The fog was so dense it kept their people hidden in the trees.”
Ehreion interrupted the king. “Hold on. You have been there, in the east? And you did not take me with you?”
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