Rise of the Champions

by Nicholas Joslin

  “Chieftain Wooll might be gone, but his sacrifice to help others should not go in vain!” he boomed, walking over and climbing on top of a nearby table.

  “But how can we win?” a voice shouted from somewhere in the forming crowd.

  “We can win through our determination and skill in combat! They might have numbers, but they do not have skill! Unless we want that terrible infestation to overtake our entire realm, we must fight! Chieftain Wooll did not stop until the very end, and neither should any one of us! If we stand together as one unified clan, we can push through those Horrors and end this once and for all!” Chieftain Barod yelled to the crowd around him.

  He watched as the crowd murmured to themselves, some obviously hesitant to listen to what he had to say. He felt he had their attention but needed to inspire them somehow as he wasn’t sure if they had it in them. But given the circumstances, he had to try something.

  “Think of your family, your friends, anyone you care about. Think about what these monsters will do to them if we do not stop them!” Chieftain Barod urged. “Soon, a group of powerful Champions will return with weapons we need to finish this fight!”

  “Weapons? What weapons?” a Forud woman asked from near the front of the crowd.

  Chieftain Barod didn’t reply immediately, not knowing exactly what Seer Mordou would bring. He had barely been told anything beyond the fact some sort of power or weapon lay on the east coast that would turn them into great Champions of magic. He did not know when they would be back, or even if they would.

  “Something, something that can defeat our foes!” Chieftain Barod stammered.

  As the crowd erupted into furious arguing, Chieftain Barod felt he was failing them. But before he could say another word, he noticed the gate opening. He climbed off the table, seeing six figures walking through. His prayers had been answered; the Champions had returned.

  “Look!” Guard Captain Jarult yelled, trying to get the crowd’s attention.

  Chieftain Barod stared at them, slowly walking forward. As he did, he saw Seer Mordou smiling from the front of the group. He watched as the mage raised his arms, causing the others to do so as well. Chieftain Barod stopped, his distrust of magic once again seeping into his mind.

  He watched as the six conjured a large pool of gold colored magic. It grew and shimmered in the air, coalescing and fermenting into a vibrant looking ocean. Part of him hated seeing the magic, but as he made eye contact with Anna, he knew it would be alright.

  Suddenly, the magic burst apart into a tidal wave of golden energy. It first hit Chieftain Barod, then flowed over the crowd of people and then into the rest of the encampment. As it did, it made a strange soothing sound.

  Chieftain Barod immediately felt warm, rejuvenated, and emotionally stable once more. Not only did his morale return, but the crowd of warriors also erupted in cries of joy and eagerness to fight on. He did not move as the six approached him, all smiling with confidence.

  “Anna,” Chieftain Barod smiled, looking to his scout.

  “Chieftain, let’s finish this,” Anna grinned with a tough smile.

  Chapter 26

  Garon was filled with righteous fire as they cut their way through the corrupted forest. After hearing that his people had been turned to fight alongside the Horrors and Xerannu, he had found himself unable to do anything but fight. Even now, in the heart of what could be their final battle, he did not do anything but surrender to the bloodlust.

  Still, he had yet to actually see his people. Only the arrows of their distant, ever-retreating archers allowed him to confirm what he had heard was true, although nobody had seen the bulk of the warriors in some time, and he wondered where they lurked.

  He let loose a blazing burst of holy magic, not only cleansing the ground of the flesh but burning whatever organic material stood before him. The afflicted did not appear as though they could be saved, and now they would engulf all who stood before them in holy flame. However, as they cleared a swath of forest as they traveled inwards to wherever Xerannu lurked, he could feel his energy draining from so much usage.

  After returning to the camp amidst Chieftain Barod’s speech, every warrior and mage now fought behind the six Champions, their morale at an all-time high. Between seeing such power on their side, plus no longer having to fight in darkness, the allied clanspeople fought at their best.

  “How close are we to the center?” Valon asked, looking over at Anna.

  “I do not know. This is not the way we came,” Anna replied as she bathed two nearby trees in holy fire.

  “I believe we are getting close,” Garon grumbled, somehow able to feel his father’s presence ahead.

  As a group of burly Horrors ran towards him from behind some nearby trees, Garon unleashed a fiery torrent of holy energy. He watched with indifference as the holy magic burned the Horrors alive, practically melting them to the bone.

  “By the gods, this magic is so powerful,” Seer Mordou uttered, impressed with Garon’s ability.

  “At least it is against these shambling monsters,” Valon added, unleashing his own rain of holy fire on another group.

  “But I can feel myself becoming fatigued from using it,” Becca said as she cleaned some ground.

  “Me too,” Goreth yawned.

  “Then we must be efficient. I do not know if this magic will remain with us, or return as strongly if it does,” Seer Mordou cautioned.

  Garon watched as Guard Captain Jarult made his way through the formation and approached their group. He wasn’t sure who to address, so looked between all of them as he spoke.

  “We need help back there! We’re being flanked!” Guard Captain Jarult expressed loudly.

  “I will go. The Forud Clan must not lose more of its own,” Goreth grumbled, thinking of Chieftain Wooll.

  “I will come too,” Becca added, walking behind him.

  Garon turned back to face more Horrors and let loose another barrage of magic. With each spell cast, he felt as though some sort of being, or consciousness reached out to him. Each time he used holy magic he wanted to use more, to cleanse more of the realm. He ignored it, wondering if it had something to do with Hy’ria.

  As they continued to burn their way through the sickened forest, they came to a line of humanoids standing behind one with a crown. Garon instantly recognized his people, despite their entire bodies being warped by whatever disease the Horrors spread. He stopped, suddenly making eye contact with his father’s terrible red eyes.

  The others stopped next to him, and as they did, the Horrors stopped attacking the warriors and mages behind them. There was a strange silence in the air, not even the sounds of nature lingering here.

  Garon watched as his father led his few people to the edge of their forest, all of them standing ready to fight. Then, his father took a few more steps out into the sunlight, revealing his warped form.

  “My son! You serve the wrong magic and wrong leaders!” Chief King Mace boomed with a sickly tone.

  Garon stepped a few feet beyond his friends, not far from his father now. A voice deep within his head told him to engulf his father in holy flame, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, not yet anyway.

  “And who do you serve, Father? Xerannu?” Garon asked loudly, resting his hands on his twin blades.

  He watched his father frown at the mention of the name. It seemed his father hadn’t expected him to know of his true master.

  “Xerannu is my ally, not my master!” Chief King Mace yelled, waving his bloodied axe through the air.

  “Is that so?” a dark, deep voice boomed throughout the forest loudly.

  Garon could feel a cold, haunting entity somewhere nearby. He looked all around but couldn’t see anything, but he did notice the eyes of every Horror, Highrock archer, and his father glowed bright red.

  Chief King Mace forcibly knelt to the ground, trying and failing to stay standing. His bones slightly cracked as he was forced to look down, as if kneeling before some invisible leader.
He looked as though he was trying and failing to speak.

  “Xerannu! Show yourself!” Seer Mordou yelled loudly, coming to stand next to Garon.

  “I am all around you, weak human. In every tree, in each of my thralls, in all the Highrock Clan. I am everything, and soon I will be your world!” Xerannu boomed, striking fear into all who stood opposing him.

  “But why are you here? Why are you doing this?” Valon yelled from behind.

  “To save us all, fool! Do you not know what other terrible threats exist in this celestial realm of ours? What I do, I do to save all life! For only under me can life continue to thrive,” Xerannu explained, his voice gurgling from all around them.

  “What are you talking about? What other threats?” Seer Mordou asked, his golden eye flickering with red and green as Xerannu’s presence cut through them all.

  “I do not have time to explain, nor should I have to such weaklings. I will give you one chance, all of you. Surrender yourselves to me, and together we can create an army like no other and find peace,” Xerannu offered, his voice oozing with temptation.

  “Never!” Anna yelled, walking forth and standing next to Garon. “We will never surrender to you, monster!”

  Garon and Anna shared a look, each reminding the other why they fought. Garon looked back, raising his hand towards his father. He knew it was too late, but he had to stop his father’s suffering. He let loose a flaming bolt of holy magic at his father, trying to ignore the sadness creeping into him.

  Then, suddenly, the magic bolt dissipated. As it shattered into small disappearing flecks, a greenish red field revealed itself around Garon’s father. As it happened, Xerannu let loose a deep cackle.

  “If you want to kill your father, you will have to do so with your own two hands,” Xerannu chuckled.

  “Then so be it,” Garon said darkly, unsheathing his twin blades.

  As he walked towards his father, he watched the controlled man stand once more, axe at the ready. He stood still, waiting for Garon to come to him. However, as Garon walked, he felt someone run from behind and grab his arm.

  “Wait,” Anna said quietly, holding Garon back.

  “What is it?” Garon asked impatiently, turning and looking to his friend.

  “It’s a trap. He wants you to fight him up close. If anything, Xerannu wants to dominate you like all the others. You can’t let that blood on your father’s axe cut into you,” Anna answered, letting go of Garon.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t,” Garon answered, turning around and continuing toward his father.

  “You’ve failed your people, Garon. They are mine. This entire land is mine,” Chief King Mace and Xerannu spoke in unison.

  Garon ignored the obvious taunt and ran at his father. As he swung his blades, he felt holy power coursing through his body. As his blades met his father’s axe, the opposing magics crackled as they touched. Each of the two men were now filled with power that was not their own.

  Magic aside, Garon had always been a far better fighter than his father. This was quickly realized as his twin blades danced with ease around his father’s replacement weapon. Only the magical power emanating around his father, and the fact he didn’t want to say goodbye, were stopping him from ending the chief king.

  “You were always a disappointment to me,” the influenced Chief King Mace growled.

  Garon ignored it, knowing he had to finish this fight before Xerannu could warp his own mind. He nimbly dodged a flurry of desperate hacks from his father’s axe and readied himself, preparing to end the sick being that posed as his father.

  Filled with a righteous fury, Garon used everything he had to overwhelm the corrupted chief king. He managed to break through his father’s parrying ability and sever his weapon-wielding arm. This only caused the inhuman imposter to hiss like an animal and flail his other arm at Garon.

  “The Highrock Clan will soon have its revenge!” Chief King Mace rambled violently.

  “If you’re still in there somewhere, rest in peace, Father,” Garon uttered softly, ignoring the crazed man.

  Infused with holy light, Garon brought his swords across his chest, and when his father approached him, he slashed outward, decapitating him in one quick move. He could feel his father’s energy disappear, and as he did, red and green strands leapt from his father’s body and dissipated into the woods.

  Garon felt no pain or sorrow, knowing his father had truly died that night days ago. If anything, his father’s soul would be free. Not even a single tear fell from his eye as he turned away from his father’s corpse.

  “You would kill your own father for glory. Have you no shame?” Xerannu asked, trying to warp Garon’s mind.

  Garon looked up to see the Highrock archers staring at him, looks of contempt across their faces. It was the same look he had seen his entire life. However, there weren't many archers, and the warriors were not present. He couldn’t help but wonder where the rest of his people were.

  “Xerannu, where are the rest of my people? I demand to know!” Garon shouted, looking toward the almost three dozen archers standing not far from him.

  Xerannu laughed, his sickly voice causing the trees to glow slightly before subsiding. Garon ignored it and continued staring ahead. As he did, he wondered if his corrupted father’s final words had any meaning.

  “You just heard your father say it, dear Garon. They are going to have their revenge on the Narsho Clan. They, along with a legion of my thralls, should be arriving there shortly. Then your people will get the revenge they’ve always wanted, and your homes will burn to the ground,” Xerannu laughed.

  Garon gasped and turned back to his fellow Champions. Upon hearing this, panic spread throughout the army of unified clans. He quickly ran back to the others, who were already discussing what to do. The chieftain, guard captain, and other Champions had joined them. As he approached, Anna very lightly held his hand, knowing what he had just done was more difficult than he would admit.

  “You will not return to your village in time, so you must make a choice. Press forward and fail or return to your people and try to save what you can,” Xerannu boomed. “Just know that with whatever you choose, I will still win. Even if you close my portal, the manifestation will only get worse without my presence to guide my forces! My gift will spread throughout this land!”

  “He doesn’t mean … Is it too late?” Seer Mordou asked aloud.

  “Search the future, Seer!” Xerannu boomed mockingly. “Your land is lost, whether I am defeated or not! Regardless, it is over for you!”

  Garon watched as the Horrors that had surrounded their army retreated back to the forest where the Highrock archers stood. As Xerannu’s thralls fell back, a reddish haze fell over the forest. Based on the energy, Garon felt it would dampen the effect of their holy magic.

  “We must save our people!” Chieftain Barod urged, looking primarily at Seer Mordou.

  “I fear the only way to save them is to leave this land. Regardless if the portal is closed, our home is lost,” Valon added solemnly.

  “What? Are you trying to tell me we are fighting for nothing?” Titus asked angrily, pushing his way into the group.

  “No, not at all. We must close the portal and we must sail south. That is the only way our people will survive,” Valon began. “I’m afraid I need to return to the Narsho village to warn the others. Fortunately, Hy’ria’s staff has one portal left in it to get us there before our enemy.”

  Garon shook his head, realizing their task had now turned into a suicide mission. Not only he knew it, but the others did as well. Whoever continued onwards to fight would be left behind in a dying land.

  “Then that is what we shall do,” Chieftain Barod slowly declared.

  “But Chieftain!” Guard Captain Jarult protested.

  “Jarult! He is right, the Seers have not been wrong yet. Now we must trust and listen to them if we want our people to survive. I want you to travel back through the portal with Valon and three-quarters of our
forces. I must stay and fight, and see this to its bitter end,” Chieftain Barod ordered.

  “I will not leave your side, Chieftain; I too want to fight,” Titus declared.

  “Then you will stay and fight until our end, Titus,” Chieftain Barod replied, turning from Titus back to Jarult. “Now find those who wish to go and those who will stay.”

  Guard Captain Jarult nodded and quickly ran back to his comrades, who were eagerly awaiting orders. He spread the new information, crushing the his men’s previous morale.

  Garon didn’t like the thought of losing Valon, easily the most powerful of all of them. However, he was the Seer, and he knew it had to be done. Thinking of his people attacking the Narsho, Garon sighed, knowing his father might finally get his way.

  There was a solemn silence between them as they watched the warriors and mages split into who would go and who would stay. Given the fact that every warrior, either wounded or healthy, had left the encampment meant that every able-bodied human now stood before them. The majority would go defend the village and escape off their doomed land, and just over two hundred and fifty remaining warriors and mages would stay behind to help finish the assault and close the portal. They all knew what their choices meant, and a heavy weight hung around them.

  Garon watched as Seer Mordou and Valon embraced each other, both knowing this would likely be the last time they would ever see each other. Of everything that had happened, today, he found this sight to be the most heart-wrenching of all. He hadn’t known either man for very long, but he could feel the respect and friendship the former master and apprentice shared.

  “Seer Valon, I expect you to lead our people to their new home safely and proudly, for you are no longer only the Seer of the Ancient Clan, you are the Seer of the Allied Clans. Lead them well,” Seer Mordou ordered as he let go of Valon.

  “I will remember all you have taught me. Our people’s lives lay in all of your hands now,” Valon said, now looking to the other Champions.