Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  “Quite the army, Nyx.” Arakiel smirked as he stared at the mass of the recently voided. “Are you up for this task?”

  “Save your uncertainty, Arakiel. The morels were always my masterpiece, remember? This hive will serve us well.” Nyx tore her gaze from the multitude and locked her black eyes on Arakiel. “This is our opportunity to break free, brother. The High King made his final mistake leaving us behind. We can make him pay.”

  Arakiel roared, slamming his fist down and spitting as he screamed. “Forget that worm! He no longer matters. The game has changed. He is bringing Isphet with him. We must prepare for his arrival.”

  Nyx shot back, her eyes like black holes. “Is the mighty Arakiel nervous at the coming of Isphet? If we don’t overthrow the Keeper, he will make him fall in line like us.” Nyx turned her back to Arakiel and focused back on the morel hive. She whispered, her voice barely audible. “I am thinking of us, brother.”

  Arakiel grabbed Nyx’s shoulder and spun her to face him, eye to eye. “No! You are not,” he growled. “You are thinking of yourself. Isphet is coming, and my spirit is restless. I have sensed him moving within Candor for weeks now, his power growing.” He locked his crimson eyes on her. “We must be ready…our brother has found an ally behind the glass and he is very strong.”

  “An ally?” Nyx’s face twisted with hesitation. “There is nothing behind the glass, Arakiel. You know this.”

  Arakiel gazed out across the empty desert, his face stoic. “Perhaps you are right, Nyx, but something has...changed. I cannot think of any other answer for this.” The god shook away the feeling of dread and barked his commands. “Prepare this army quickly and make sure we have enough to serve us once Isphet is unlocked. We must stay vigilant.”

  Nyx nodded and turned from her brother before raising her arms and losing herself to the mind of the horde.

  “Help them!” Kull grasped at Aleph’s tunic and tried to pull him toward the portals. “YOU MUST HELP THEM!” Kull’s eyes darted from one opening to the next as he watched his father’s limp body be thrown into one of Seam’s titans, while Wael and Adley lay lifelessly in the sanctuary of Taluum. Seam’s morel army set fire to the sanctuary, and Kull began to scream, his body shaking and his mind full of fear. “Please! You have to help them!”

  Aleph stared into the mirrors, but his face was distant. He turned, his eyes locking with Kull’s. “I have helped them, Kull, and I will continue to help them. That is why you are here.”

  Kull shook his head with disbelief. “I don’t understand. How does having me here do any good? Aren’t you the One? The most high of the gods? What is stopping you?!”

  Aleph’s eyes were sharp, his words heavy and laced with purpose. “Kull, I need you to trust me.” Aleph’s eyes quickened with resolve and he gazed down on Kull and then back to the portals. He held his hand out to Kull and opened it, and Kull’s eyes grew wide. “The time for you to make your choice has come at last.”

  Kull shook with fear at what he saw. In Aleph’s hand was a blue key, shimmering like a lightning bolt.

  Willyn throttled down her rook and ran one last scan. She locked her computer on her prime target and pushed the throttle forward again. “All units, engage. Titans, drop mortars on my coordinates once in range.”

  A chorus of shouts rang over the datalink as Willyn crested the final dune separating her from Zenith. She engaged her deck gun as quickly as she leveled her line of sight on the small barricade wrapping around Zenith’s borders. The explosive rounds shattered the small metal wall with little effort, but as soon as the wall was opened a flood of soldiers poured out like water from a burst dam.

  Bullets ricocheted off Willyn’s rook as she pressed forward, her finger held in a hard squeeze against the trigger. Bodies fell one after another as Willyn shattered them with her hammering guns, mowing down the Dominion forces that pressed in for her. “You’ll have to do better than this,” Willyn shouted.

  Willyn scanned the horizon beyond the foot soldiers that poured out of the barricade. She spied dozens of rooks standing back, waiting, refusing to assist the men being chewed up by the Grogan machine gun fire. “Stay tight in formation and finish these hostiles quickly. They have cavalry waiting in the stables. Don’t lose focus.”

  The ferocity of the ground soldiers’ fire picked up as bullets bounced off Willyn’s rook, sounding like a hailstorm beating on a tin roof. Something felt off to Willyn as she pressed forward. Three Grogan rooks sped to the front of the formation, their targets set on the Dominion war machines ahead.

  Within seconds, the Grogans witnessed their first casualty. One of their rooks exploded with a magnificent eruption, followed by a violent burst of flames. As the Grogan vehicle tumbled end over end across the desert sand, the hair on the back of Willyn’s neck stood up. Something is not right. It was as if the rook had exploded on its own. Willyn turned her eyes and caught a glimpse of something stirring beneath another rook before it exploded in similar fashion. By the time the second rook erupted in a plume of flame and smoke, she saw a magnetic mine jump from its sandy hiding place and latch onto the rook immediately to her right. Hot flames exploded from the machine, causing Willyn to whip her machine in reverse.

  “Pull ba...” Before she could finish her sentence, she heard it: a loud clank. Her response was immediate. She reached down and ripped her evac cord. Her cockpit opened and shot her out just as the rook beneath her exploded, smashing across the sand in a twisted, fiery heap of metal.

  Willyn’s chute did little to lessen the impact as she crashed to the ground. She jumped to her feet as more Grogan rooks raced by, one after another, flying blindly into the minefield and exploding like choreographed fireworks. Willyn scanned to see if any other drivers made it out alive, but she was the only one to realize the trap. She ripped her helmet off and hurled it to the ground before barking into her datalink. “Mine field, pull back to grid TH-7. Use mortar fire to suppress.”

  A voice called in to address Willyn. “We’re coming for your evac.”

  “Stand down!” Willyn screamed. “Don’t come within a foot of me. Another one of those mines could be near. I will fall back on my own.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A bullet flashed by Willyn as she tried to gather herself. She glanced down the battlefield as a half dozen Dominion soldiers ran straight for her, the lead soldier trying his best to fire his rifle while running full speed. Willyn scrambled for cover behind the burning remains of her rook. As she dove behind the smoldering wreckage, a barrage of bullets smacked the ground inches from her feet and continued to beat against her overturned vehicle. Willyn leaned out from behind her cover and sent eight shots into the crowded formation pressing in on her. Two of the soldiers crumpled into the sand, clutching their chests.

  The four men remaining fanned out and slowed their pace as they shouldered their rifles and steadied their aim. Willyn popped up over the rook and fired three more shots, but none met their mark.

  Willyn ducked back down and changed magazines, cursing as she slammed a new clip into her rifle. She yelled into her datalink as she peered back out, trying to pick the easiest shot. “Where is my backup? I’m pinned down.”

  “Lion unit has visual. Sending in heat.”

  As soon as the words came over the datalink, the ground beneath Willyn shook as multiple mortars exploded no more than twenty meters from her position. Willyn ducked out from the corner of hiding and scanned the field. Only two men were left and the mortars seemed to confuse them. Willyn fired at the nearest Dominion soldier and small bursts of red announced her success. She swung her sights toward the final soldier.

  As the final soldier dropped, Willyn picked her path and tossed three smoke grenades across the desert sand. As each canister lit with smoke and flame, Willyn sprinted for the high ground, darting through the wall of smoke as bullets searched for her in the fog.

  A voice blared over Willyn’s coms. “My Sar. I have a lock on your location, coming in south of you. Co
py?”

  Willyn let out a sigh of relief and answered. “Copy, captain. Switch your rear gun to manual ops.”

  “Copy that!” The young pilot from Lion unit did little to hide his excitement.

  Willyn continued to sprint through the smoke as a rook swept in on her left. She leapt on board and tethered herself into position behind the massive gatling gun. “Take us out, captain. I’m in.”

  “Yes, sir. Rolling out. Hot zone in thirty seconds.”

  The rook rocketed from the smokescreen and flashed over the desert sand, like a black sloop sailing across a hot amber ocean. Willyn squinted, trying to keep the dust and sand from blinding her as they flashed over the dunes at an incredible pace. Her datalink roared with life from the young captain steering. “Goggles below the seat, my Sar.” Willyn reached for them and strapped them on, their tinted frames giving her much relief in the unrelenting Rihtian sunlight and sand swirling around the black war machine. She sat there, her eyes focusing and hand rolling over the gunning controls in the back of the rook. Willyn’s bright red hair whipped behind her as she rotated the gun, readying her sights. She wired her datalink into the rook and spoke, her voice filling the ear of each man who fought for her.

  “Check in, men. Status on the minefield.” She heated her guns, the barrels speeding their rotation as they got closer to the battle.

  “Got a lane open. Sector Z8. Ten units wide by our estimate.”

  There was no hesitation in Willyn’s decision as she called back. “Follow me, boys. We’re taking what we can. Single file, not taking any chances. Stay in the trench our titans dug out. Let’s pay our tribute to the High King!”

  Willyn could not help but smile as her men yelled out and shouted for her as she sped by the Grogan squadrons, taking point on the assault. The Sar was charging the gates of Zenith on the unarmored back of a rook, manning the guns, her red hair waving like a battle flag. “Follow me if you’re ready to die!”

  Willyn flipped her datalink over to a single feed directed to her pilot. “You ready, Captain...?”

  “Mundi. Mundi, my Sar, from the Flint Mines.” Willyn could feel the reverence in his voice as he addressed her.

  She spoke, her voice flying as valiantly as a battle standard. “Very well, Captain Mundi from the Flint Mines. You must have no hesitation, no fear. You are my razor. Together we cut this city open and pierce its cursed heart. For the Groganlands!”

  “Aye! For the Groganlands!” shouted Captain Mundi as he accelerated into the fray.

  The Dominion rooks that had been holding back just outside Zenith all swarmed from the city, rushing to answer Willyn’s charge. Willyn focused the barrel of her machine gun and held the fire steady on the enemy rook running point to challenge her.

  “On my mark, Mundi, roll portside. Bring the aft around. No brakes.” Willyn tested the tether holding her to the machine and stared back down the barrel of her gun.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The gap between Willyn and her challenger closed rapidly. Willyn stared down the Dominion rook and waited, staring at the guns mounted on the attacker’s sides. “Now!” Willyn screamed as the Gatling barrel flashed to life.

  Mundi obeyed and the rook turned up on its side, swinging wildly to the left, leaving Willyn parallel with the ground below. She kept her eyes locked on the iron sights and held the trigger as her rook righted itself again. Her bullets shredded the armor of the Dominion hovercraft as it attempted to redirect its course.

  Mundi did not hesitate and moved her into position again to fire on two additional charging Dominion war machines. The smaller hover vehicles swooped across the desert sand, jockeying for position, their engines roaring over the barren landscape. Willyn kept firing, the light of her shots filling her stoic face with an unnatural glow.

  In less than five minutes, all of the Dominion rooks that challenged her were demolished and Willyn and the majority of Lion unit were streaming toward the heart of Zenith. The Spire rose high into the sky, welcoming their assault.

  Willyn looked up, her face shielded under the massive shadow cast by the pinnacle structure.

  “Let’s tear that tower down, Mundi!” roared Willyn.

  “Aye, aye sir!” Mundi engaged the thruster of the rook as the two ran point into the heart of Zenith.

  Seam screamed over the datalink, his voice straining the limits of the small speakers on the feed. “I want a status report! Have the Grogans been handled yet, Arakiel?” Seam’s eyes cut through the screen as he barked at the Serub, who stared disinterested on the other end of the feed.

  Arakiel offered no emotional response in his silence. His face was set and locked like stone. After several moments of silence, he spoke, his deep voice booming as his eyes bore back at Seam. “They are exactly where I want them to be, High King. Soon your army will grow five-fold.”

  “Where are they? I am tired of your trivial resistance. Just tell me!” Seam saw sparks flash in his vision as he shrieked at Arakiel. Arakiel stared out in the distance, focusing on something off screen, refusing to answer.

  “I said where are they, Arakiel?!”

  “They are here.” As the first of the Grogan rooks crested into the city, Arakiel slammed the datalink shut, cutting off all communication with the High King. The Serub roared, his voice like a booming thunderclap, and charged toward the oncoming Grogans. He held his iron scepter out toward the invaders rushing to flank their forces. His eyes fell on the Grogan war machines, and his mind paused at a strange play of the desert sun. Something about the Grogan rooks looked different. Unable to wait, he led the charge as three hundred morels swarmed toward their enemies, sprinting like cheetahs, their claws catching the light of the blazing sun. The mob poured over the first rook in an instant, but Arakiel’s face froze as each morel soldier fell away upon making contact with the enemy rooks, dead before even landing a single blow. Body after body ran toward the rooks, only to fall dead to its side.

  “NYX!” Arakiel boomed, calling out to his sister. He would have to move fast before more of the Grogans breached the containment wall. Even with thousands of the mindless, their numbers would be thinned out in minutes as more Grogans breached the city. He sprinted, his muscular form clearing the desert plain like a galloping horse. He slammed his iron scepter into the first Grogan rook he saw, the iron rod penetrating the machine’s armor like paper. Arakiel twisted his weapon like a corkscrew until he heard screams from within, and the popping of bones.

  “THE RIVERS OF YOUR REALM WILL FLOOD WITH YOUR BLOOD, GROGANS!”

  Arakiel’s deep voice boomed over the desert, as he tore through four more Grogan rooks, strafing and jumping over their bullet storms before they could even target him.

  The Serub lord looked down on the shattered remains of one of the rooks he had just destroyed, desperate to find what was killing his army so effectively. It only took a second for his sharp crimson eyes to find the answer. Barbed quills. Electric quills that would fry any morel’s brain at the slightest touch.

  Very well, the Serub thought.

  He turned, searching through the chaos for his sister. He spotted her, elevated, hovering over the ground, her mind melded with the ocean of the mindless she controlled.

  “Pull them back, Nyx!” He flashed in her mind the revelation of the Grogan tech, and in an instant the tidal wave of a thousand morels began to recede from the battlefield. Nyx ran to her brother, screaming. “We have to take these rooks out now or we will be overrun, brother!”

  Arakiel wasted no time. He leapt in the air, ascending thirty feet with one mighty jump. He fell to the ground like a meteor and drove his iron scepter through one of the charging Grogan rooks. The hovercraft broke apart in midair, the driver disintegrating into an explosion of gore. The Serub stared out as thirty more rooks rushed through the interior wall like a swarm of black armored yellow jackets.

  He held his hand out, his fingers motioning them forward. “Come and die, mighty Grogans. Die for that land you love so well!” Thre
e more rooks swarmed by him, their engines rumbling through the desert sand, daring to get too close. They crumpled under the flourishing swings of his scepter, erupting into fireballs.

  The god held out his hand, his blood red eyes reading the field as more of the Grogans charged directly at him. He turned, facing his sister who had just clawed her way through a Grogan gunner.

  “Get ready! I will turn these and press our advantage!”

  Nyx’s black eyes shined in the desert sun, the blood of the Grogan she had gored still dripping from her face. “Do it!”

  Arakiel held out his hand. As the rooks screamed in for the attack formation, an iridescent sphere of energy exploded from his palm and a mighty wind tore through the place, releasing a sandstorm that clouded the battlefield in an instant. Nyx moved and her eyes clouded over, her mind searching for those whose essences had been robbed from them, taking root within their minds. The rooks caught in the wake of Arakiel’s power jolted violently as something within them shifted. They spun around with an uncanny synchronicity, and to the other Grogans, it looked as if they were retreating, until a firestorm of bullets ripped through their own forces.

  Grogans fought one another as those controlled by Nyx’s mind ripped through the Grogan ranks, causing confusion and chaos with every passing second.

  Arakiel’s face and body had withered with the expulsion of his power, but he held a firm smile. The Grogans were mighty, but their strength, technology, and numbers were not enough to turn the tide. Not against the Serubs.

  The screen went blank and Seam punched the wall, denting the iron plates lining the inside of the titan. He stomped toward his final prize and gazed into the empty, black glass.

  “You took liberty to speak before when I did not request your presence. Now I seek you out. Speak to me, god in the glass.”

  Seam stared into the empty mirror, his reflection the only image filling the portal. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his ebony sword, slashing the razor’s edge across his mutilated palm. The cut bit deep and he held his hand up to the mirror’s edge, allowing the crimson of his body to flow onto the mirror.