by Casey Eanes
Grift stared at Wael, his eyes full of rage. “Let’s attack them head on. Let’s bring the fight to them, Wael! Let’s strike them when they least expect it.”
Wael stared at Grift and slowly nodded his head. “I agree with you, dear friend. If these are our last moments, they will not be of us cowering in the dark. Let us go and meet the High King.”
Wael turned and called down from the tower, his voice booming from his tall station. Below, a small band of monks stood, awaiting his orders. The Mastermonk’s deep voice broke over them and sent them to action.
“Ring the bells, brothers, and send word to all of our Order! Ring the bells and release the birds! Seam Panderean is here and brings to us a war, and we will fight! We fight not for ourselves but for Aleph, the Undefiled. May our deaths be a worthy sacrifice for his rule and reign, a balm for this broken and ruined land, a healing salve for the people of all of Candor against the Five who threaten to overwhelm us once again.”
Grift stood silent as the forest exploded with the sound of ancient bells, a cacophony of bronze booming in the forest. Soon the empty sky was filled with hundreds of falcons who sent word over the din of bells ringing in the trees. The monks would stand together, united in their fight against Seam and his Dominion. They would all join to protect the forest Realm.
“I know that this was not easy for you, Wael.” Grift put a heavy hand on his friend’s broad shoulder.
Wael nodded and whispered, his words few but powerful. “None of these things have been easy, Grift. Since sending you and Willyn out, I’ve sought for a sign or a word from Aleph. I have pleaded with him in fasting and in prayer. Do you know what I’ve heard?”
“What?” Grift stood like a statue, waiting.
“Nothing. I’ve heard nothing, and it terrifies me. But as I live and breathe, the monks who guarded our borders were brought down fighting, slaughtered by Seam’s horrible Serubs. They were sacrificed with no mercy, and their death brought on the Desolate. That is enough for me. The time for prayer is over. We bring Aleph’s mighty rage and justice to the jackal king.”
Adley wavered, her voice shaking. “But what about the Predecessor tech? I’ve just gotten it set up! We can’t easily move it to the front.”
“Which is why you will stay back, young Adley.” Wael’s voice was commanding and resolute. “For in our last moments, you will be all that we have left to keep Seam away from the last mirror. From Isphet. You are our last defense, and you must keep whatever comes our way back."
Adley nodded, her face pale. “Okay.”
The Mastermonk nodded and turned to Grift. “We must move quickly. If we don’t attack soon, we will surely lose our advantage.”
Grift nodded and descended the stone staircase without a word.
Seam jumped at the sound of the soldiers being devoured by Bastion and Abtren. Their screams echoed through the titan as if it held a slaughterhouse. The Serubs would have to heal quickly, so there was very little use in trying to disguise their nature from his other forces. Let them know what I wield, and let them tremble.
Yet Seam paused in his chamber as another sound joined the chorus of ripping flesh and screams. It was an old sound, full and encompassing, a low roll of hollowness that threatened to swallow them.
“What is that? Bells?” Seam dashed to the front of the titan, his eyes wide with rage, as his voice pinned Captain Reed to the wall. “What is that racket, Reed?”
Reed had sat idling the convoy as the beasts Seam controlled were “assisted” by the other soldiers. He glanced at the High King, his face pale with all he had encountered in the last few hours. “It sounds like bells, sire.”
“Bells?” Seam’s face coiled and twisted with disgust. “The monks must be sounding the alarm. Very well, then our presence here is no longer a secret.” Hammering down on his datalink, Seam ushered a command to his aide back in Zenith.
“Put me in contact with that useless Evan Darian in Elum.”
“Aye, sir.” The sound of the feed clicked over, and Seam stared at the pudgy face of Filip Darian’s son, the new ruler of Elum. Shirtless, his face was covered with chocolate, and Seam heard the sound of several women laughing nervously.
“Seam! What a surprise! I dare say, you caught me at an awkward time, but I’ll always accept your call, High King.”
“Evan, I don’t care what you’re doing, but I am requesting immediate assistance. I need air support over Preost. You need to move your forces to these coordinates – fast.” Seam transcribed the coordinates, and Evan’s face pinched with anxiety.
“This will be very expensive, High King, but we will do as you say.”
Seam growled, his eyes piercing through the screen. “Do as I say and your family’s reign in Elum will not end. I find that a fair trade, don’t you? I want the monks’ forest to burn down to ash, do you understand me? Do it! Do it now!”
“Of course, Seam. I’ll issue the commands now.”
Seam snapped the screen off as he peered outside, his mind a tempest of rage. He had been worried about the white fire that the monks had called down, that had so badly damaged his Serubs. What had Abtren called it? Desolate? Seam smiled as he imagined the screeching sounds of jets sweep overhead.
They’re not the only ones to play with fire.
Kull stood with wonder as the world of Candor rolled by the cosmic window opened by Aleph. Kull’s land rolled by him like a large marble with new scenes forming and quickly morphing before him like shifting sand. Kull gasped as he observed bodies lying scattered in the mountains of the Groganlands, the fallen warriors shredded, torn, and tossed throughout the red canyon in a bloody demonstration of uncanny power.
The world shifted and rolled to the deserts of Riht where the city of Zenith stood, simmering under the desert sun. A vision of Baggers and Grogans alike being corralled appeared. They were all held at gunpoint as Arakiel stood on a platform above them, raising his arms to the sky and unleashing a shockwave of force over them. The screams of the masses rang out to the heavens and then were cut short. The crowd stood silent before their new masters. Kull recognized what had happened in an instant as a chill ran through the space he shared with Aleph. The essences of the corralled had been ripped from their host bodies so quickly, so efficiently. The window shifted again and scrolled to a landscape dominated by ancient evergreen trees. The silence of the scene was eliminated by a fiery missile exploding over the trees and igniting them in a violent blaze of flames.
The view shifted to Seam’s convoy snapping proud firs like twigs and rumbling through the forest of Preost, destroying everything between them and the fortress hidden within the dense woodland. Mortars and cannons fired with no mercy, leveling anything that the mechanized giants could not roll over. Kull shuddered as Seam hung out the side of his war machine, his face drawn up in a cruel, insane smile.
As the trees smoldered and burned below, the focus shifted to a Preost fortress, the walled city of Taluum. Four figures stood, perched atop one of the wall’s many spires. Wael, Luken, Adley, and Grift spoke to one another as they looked out over the horizon.
“Dad!” Kull cried out and reached for the image. He stared at them, his face darting between those he once knew; between Adley, Wael, and his father.
Aleph laid a large hand on Kull’s shoulder and offered a knowing smile. “Your father has fought hard, Kull, and has lost much. Yet, he continues to fight for the good of Candor. He has shouldered great pain, but he will not stop defending this world. His spirit is still very strong.”
Kull stared at his father, whose hair looked grayer than he last recalled. Large, dark bags hung under his eyes. “He doesn’t look strong. He looks exhausted.”
“Looks are deceiving, Kull.”
“What about the others?” Kull turned to look at Aleph. “What about Adley and Wael? Do you know what is about to happen?”
Aleph rolled his hand to the left, and the images swept back to the triumphant march of Seam’s mighty procession. �
�They are preparing to fight a battle they cannot win.”
Kull ground his teeth. “There must be something we can do.” He stared at the portal and pushed the window back toward his father. He stayed there, staring, before facing Aleph. “Tell me, there must be something you can do?!”
Aleph stared at Kull, his eyes knowing but distant. “There is, but it requires you to make a choice.”
“A choice?” Kull stammered. His heart hung in his throat.
Aleph nodded solemnly.
“Just tell me what it is,” Kull said.
Grift ripped open the door of an old truck waiting at the foot of the stone spiral staircase and whistled as he slapped the truck’s hood. Luken sprinted and leapt into the truck’s bed. He took his position behind a massive chain gun that was mounted in the bed of the vehicle. It was the only truck in Preost outfitted with heavy weaponry, and it was ancient, but Grift took it just the same.
“You sure you’re ready, Grift?” Luken peered into the small window between the bed and the cabin.
“We don’t have a choice,” barked Grift. “Let’s bring the fight to the High King. Who knows? Maybe you’ll put a bullet through his brain.”
Luken laughed as Grift turned over the ignition and pumped the gas. The old truck roared to life and a cloud of black exhaust rolled from its tailgate. As Grift pushed the truck into gear, Adley sprinted out from the tower and screamed at them, waving her arms madly.
“Grift! Stop!” Adley fought to catch her breath as she ran to the driver’s side window and frantically motioned for Grift to open his door. “You can’t go. Not now!”
Luken jumped from the bed of the truck and tried to assess the fear he saw in her face. “What’s going on?”
Adley sucked in deep breaths as she spoke. “Jets. Coming in from Elum. They’re lighting up our sensors. They’re dropping lines of napalm, burning the forest down. Another squadron is headed this way.”
Grift hammered his fists into the steering wheel and cursed as he punched at the old truck. “How long? How far out are they!?”
Adley glanced up at the sky and shook her head in disbelief, running her shaking hands through her hair. “Minutes...only minutes away.”
Grift slipped the truck into gear and revved the engine. “Time to light up the sky!”
Luken jumped into the truck and pulled back the action on the chain gun, hitting the back of the truck. Grift hammered down the gas and the two sped off in the direction of the oncoming fighter jets.
Grift spoke over his datalink radio back to Luken. “On my mark, Luken, I want you to tear up the sky, you understand?”
“I read you loud and clear, Grift.” Grift’s mind roared with a quickening he had felt many times during his life. The threat of combat always brought with it a heightened sense of awareness, as if he was able to slow down the world and all that were in it. As he drove the truck through the scrambling mountain pass, Grift could feel the jets, as well as the distance he was from Seam’s firestorm pushing deeper through the forest toward Taluum. A fork in the dirt road came up, and Grift cut the truck’s wheel hard to the right. He threw his foot down on the gas and roared into his datalink.
“Aim high, Luken, and fire, NOW!” Luken whipped the gun behind him and its ear-splitting roar drowned out the world. In mere seconds, Luken saw the flash of four jets scrambling from the unexpected resistance. The spray of bullets ripped through one of the jets, causing it to careen in a chaotic barrel roll, while another broke from formation and fell back to avoid collision. The downed jet tore through the forest canopy, snapping trunks of trees as if they were toothpicks, until plunging to the earth in a blanket of fire.
The two fighters that held to their original trajectory successfully dropped their payload, unleashing another load of napalm. Grift slammed the brakes and whipped the truck around, driving the vehicle with unearthly skill.
Luken roared over the datalink, “One bird down, three more to go!”
Grift smiled and called back, “Let’s hope Seam doesn’t have a squadron of these things. I’d hate to think you just got lucky.”
Luken leaned over and peered through the back window of the truck, flashing a mischievous smile. “Luck? Ha…”
The squall of the fighter jets ripped through the sky, and Grift screamed, “They’re coming back for another pass, Luken!”
Luken swung the gun around, shooting deep, pulsating rhythms of heavy fire up in the air. The remaining jets were coming in fast, and Grift saw as the trees only yards ahead him began to splinter under their guns, ripping through the thick forest and devouring all that lay ahead.
“Hold on!” Grift steered the truck into a gully, barely avoiding the tree trunks that weaved around them. The jets unleashed another payload of liquid fire. Trees to the left and right of Grift and Luken were consumed from top to bottom and a thick haze of smoke filled the small space between the burning timbers.
Grift coughed and wheezed, trying to cover his mouth with his shirt as he fought for breath in the thickening fog of black soot. He glanced back at Luken as his partner continued to hurl hot lead into the sky, chasing the jets as they swept overhead. Grift floored the truck and turned back for Taluum. The scream of the jets overhead quieted and faded as the crackling inferno swelled, the red-hot flames leaping from tree to tree.
“Luken,” Grift called out. “You okay back there?”
“I’m fine.” Luken’s response was quick. “We need to get back. I’m afraid that was nothing more than a distraction.”
Grift steadied the truck’s wheel on the uneven dirt road and held the gas down as they hurried back to assist Wael and Adley. Grift wiped at the windshield and squinted as he fought to focus on the landscape ahead through the thick, swirling smoke. Before he could see anything, he could hear the screams of the Elumite jets overhead. They had circled and were bearing down on the truck again, their machine guns thumping hundreds of rounds into the dirt in front of the truck. By the time Grift saw the strafing fire, it was too late. There was no time to turn away. The path was too narrow and the gap was closing too fast. Grift slammed the brakes, trying to delay the inevitable. He whispered a prayer as he watched the stream of raining bullets close in on the truck.
“Do something! Whatever I need to do, just let me know! Now!” Kull’s plea was desperate as he begged Aleph to stop Seam’s procession. “Please!”
Aleph waved his hand and the portal looking on Candor closed, disappearing into the black void surrounding him and Kull. Warm tears rolled down Kull’s cheek and dripped on the bottomless floor below. Aleph turned to face Kull. His eyes were also wet with tears, but his face was set like stone.
“So much pain. So much confusion. So much hate, Kull.” Aleph slowly shook his head and exhaled a slow breath. “I can feel this world’s pain, Kull. This world and all the others.”
“The others?”
Aleph said nothing, and Kull didn’t dare ask again. Kull pointed to the spot where the portal had once stood and spoke with a bold tenor. “Why don’t you just stop it all now? You can do that, can’t you?”
Aleph drew in a deep breath, nodded, and paused before answering. “Yes, Kull. I could, but the life of Candor is made up of more than one moment, and this is not yet the greatest battle to fight.” Aleph dipped his head and closed his eyes. A tapestry of pain, pity, and rage covered his expression. He lifted his eyes to Kull, and they shone with the splendor of a thousand exploding suns. “It is time for you to realize why I have you here. For soon you must make your choice.”
New portals emerged from the darkness, exploding with celestial light. The simply framed portals looked like ordinary open doorways cut in the darkness. Kull’s heart dropped as he examined each entrance. Crashing against his ribcage, his heart threatened to burst from his chest as he spun on his heels, trying to watch what was happening within the four doors at once. Each doorway held an individual close to Kull’s heart: Adley, Wael, Rose, and finally Grift.
Adley, Wael, an
d Grift’s doors showcased their every movement in Candor. Adley was scurrying about a large cobblestone staircase as she prepped a machine. She was beautiful and strong as she hustled to prepare for Seam’s oncoming attack. Her long brown hair fell around her face as she toiled with the machine and tinkered with its interface.
Wael stood like a statue, watching out over the forests of Preost. Smoke rose in the distance and the chiseled frame of Wael stood tall facing it. Kull’s eyes widened at what the Mastermonk wore. Armor? The smoke continued to bellow and grow closer to Taluum as Seam’s marauding brigade tore through the forest toward his final prize.
Rose walked quietly in an open field of jasper. Long shoots of grain swayed gently, but their normal yellow hue was replaced with a brilliant red color that radiated a peaceful warmth. Kull lifted his palm to the image, and he tried to catch his mother’s eye as she floated past the frame of vision.
Grift was surrounded by smoke and fire. He was driving a truck, squinting as he steered. His face dropped and he looked to the sky as a firestorm of bullets threatened to tear through him.
“There are many consequences for the choice you will make, Kull, but the choice is yours, and yours alone.”
Grift closed his eyes as the white hot flashes of lead rained down inches in front of the truck. He sucked in a deep breath and held it in his chest as he waited for everything to end. The sound of the bullets thudding in front of the truck grew louder with each passing moment. Grift tightened his grip on the steering wheel waiting for the moment the bullets would end it all. They came, their sound slicing against the solid ground straight toward the truck.
Grift threw his eyes open only to observe the air around the truck shimmering as if they were in a bubble. A line of smoking holes in the ground led up to the front of the truck and continued again behind it, but none had hit them. Luken spun the gun around and opened fire, ripping through the tail of the jet and sending it smashing through the fiery canopy of trees below it.
