The First Champion

by Sandell Wall

  She stood in a blasted wasteland. Anything that could burn still smoldered. Beneath her feet, the gray sand had been turned to glass. Nearby, the beast from before had stopped struggling. It lay still in death, flesh stripped and skeleton charred black. A wall of fire chased the horizon in every direction but the city.

  Discarding her goggles and mask, Lacrael set out in a jog towards the bronze gate. As she neared the walls, she realized the rock itself was burning. The fortifications seemed to sway and convulse as the fire climbed them, and Lacrael detected a faint and dreadful keening on the wind. Had the walls of Orcassus been alive?

  Lacrael pushed the thought away. It no longer mattered. All that mattered now was getting to the portal. She reached the great bronze door to find it still ajar. No one had come in the night and discovered her handiwork. The metal of the circular door had warped in the intense heat, and it would probably never shut properly again.

  On the other side, the camp was still deserted. As she climbed out of the small arena, Lacrael saw smoke rising in the city from at least ten different fires. A city like Orcassus must have miasma running through its foundations. There was no telling what damage Lacrael’s magus fire had wrought. The sky overhead had turned an angry orange, and ash was starting to fall like snow.

  Lacrael stopped only to strip the now useless miasma-filtering pack from her back. Free from this burden, she made her way towards the gate of the camp. The old gatekeeper stood outside his tent and stared up at the sky in horrified awe. When he spied Lacrael, he recoiled in terror. She glanced down at her hands—they were still sheathed in living flame.

  “What’ve you done?” the old man cried. “Are you a demon who’s brought the end upon us?”

  “Think of it as a new beginning,” Lacrael said. She strode past the man towards the gate. With a casual flick of her wrist, she reduced the iron door to a puddle of slag. Lacrael left the old man staring after her.

  The city streets were chaos. People did not know if they should fight the fires or run for their lives. No one knew what was happening or how to respond. Out here on the outskirts, there were no tomb keepers to question Lacrael’s presence, but as she ventured towards the inner parts of the city, she knew they would become a problem.

  Lacrael held her hands up in front of her and concentrated hard on extinguishing the flames. She might be able to burn her way all the way to the market portal, but it would take far too much time. Better to stay disguised as a tomb keeper for as long as possible. Finally, the fire on her hands went out. To her disappointment, Lacrael felt the increase in her powers recede. The high king had drawn back. From here on out, the rest was up to her.

  Just to be sure, Lacrael tested summoning another fireball above the palm of her hand. The fire within answered without hesitation. Relieved that her powers were restored, Lacrael set out towards the market and the portal to safety.

  No one gave Lacrael a second glance as she dashed through the streets. Everyone else was in just as much a hurry as she was. She had to divert her route twice when she turned a corner and found the street clogged with smoke and people desperately fighting the fire. The fire seemed to be spreading beneath the city, which made it impossible to predict or stop. Most of Orcassus had been chiseled from solid stone, but everything else could burn. People were dragging furniture, supplies, and even clothes out into the street to prevent it all from going up in flames.

  At last, Lacrael stumbled out into the main thoroughfare that connected to the underground market. She was only moments away from her destination. Here, the firefighting efforts were being directed by tomb keepers. One of these women spotted Lacrael the instant she stepped into view. The tomb keeper wore a House Riggor patch on her arm, an exact match for the one around Lacrael’s bicep.

  Lacrael swore under her breath. Of all the tomb keepers she had to encounter, it would be one from House Riggor.

  “You there!” the tomb keeper shouted. “I need you over here, right now!”

  “I’ve got to get to the market,” Lacrael said, doing her best to sound commanding. She pointed in the direction she was going and did not slow.

  This must have been the wrong thing to say, because Lacrael only took one more step before two other tomb keepers moved to block her path. Their hands were already on the hilt of their swords. The first tomb keeper came up behind Lacrael and moved around to look closely at her face.

  “Who are you?” the tomb keeper said. “I don’t recognize you. Where’s the rest of your kit?”

  “I lost it in the fire,” Lacrael said. “I’m trying to get to the market. I was told they needed help.”

  “The market can burn. We’ve been ordered to protect the house’s assets. You’ll join my squad until we get further instructions.”

  Lacrael shook her head. “I can’t do that,” she said. “Let me pass. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  To her surprise, Lacrael meant it. After all the destruction she had caused, she did not want to hurt these three women. She just wanted to get to the market.

  The tomb keeper looked at her funny. “Has the smoke addled your head?” she said.

  Lacrael sighed. They were going to force her to do this the hard way. She took a step back to clear some room, rotated her hands in front of her to form a fireball, and launched it straight into the tomb keeper’s chest. Lacrael intentionally kept it small, hoping the woman’s armor would protect her from the worst of the attack.

  The tomb keeper went flying backwards. Her companions dodged sideways to avoid her flailing arms. Lacrael sprinted forward and hurdled the woman as she crashed to the ground. She was beyond the trio before they registered what had happened.

  Lacrael ran hard for several blocks before risking a glance over her shoulder. They had not followed her. A renegade tomb keeper with magical powers was not part of their orders, and they were not about to abandon their post. Lacrael had never thought she would be so grateful for military discipline.

  Ahead of her, the alley that led down to the underground market beckoned. Lacrael ducked into the narrow corridor and hurried towards the stairs. As she took the steps, two at a time, she prayed that the others had made it.

  Chapter 58

  LACRAEL SKIDDED TO A stop at the bottom of the stairs. The vast, cavernous room of the underground market was completely empty. The crowds she remembered were gone, and the tables and stalls had been stripped of their goods. Lacrael scanned the room, hoping to see some sign of the others, but nothing moved.

  Surprised that she had arrived first, and worried what that might mean, Lacrael moved towards the portal that was carved into the wall. When she stood before the portal, someone called out from nearby.

  “Lacrael, is that you?” the familiar voice said.

  Lacrael spun towards the sound. Sorrell, Gustavus, and Tarathine stepped out from behind a merchant stall where they had been hiding. Relief flooded through Lacrael, and she rushed towards them.

  “We thought it best to hide until you or Kaiser appeared,” Sorrell said. “I wasn’t sure it was you in the dim lighting.”

  “You’re okay?” Lacrael said. “You made it here without any trouble?”

  “We had some uninvited guests back in the room, but thanks to you, I was able to show them some proper hospitality.”

  Sorrell lifted her right hand for Lacrael to see. In the place of missing flesh and bone, Sorrell’s hand was formed out of brilliant blue ice. She flexed her fingers for show.

  “We had to leave Niad behind,” Gustavus said.

  Lacrael’s heart ached at the pain in the big man’s voice.

  “We’ll give her a proper ceremony when we’re safe,” Lacrael said.

  Gustavus only nodded.

  Tarathine peered at Lacrael from behind Sorrell. Something in the girl’s gaze seemed different, a little less wild. Lacrael tried to smile at her, but she worried it looked more like a grimace. It must have, because Tarathine ducked out of sight at Lacrael’s attention.

  Sorrel
l noticed.

  “She’s obeyed everything I’ve said since we left the room,” Sorrell said. “Hopefully, seeing her father again will jolt her out of this state she’s in.”

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused all of them to turn towards the door. Seconds later, Mazareem strode into the underground market with Kaiser and Brant hot on his heels. Mazareem’s chest bled openly, his pale skin a disgusting network of jagged cuts.

  Mazareem spotted Lacrael immediately, and he turned his long legs in her direction. Lacrael’s first thought was to strike out at the man. She saw Sorrell tense up too. Even though they would not be here without him, a voice of warning was screaming inside Lacrael’s mind to kill Mazareem while she had the chance.

  He must have seen this in her face, because Mazareem favored Lacrael with a knowing grin. This did nothing to improve her opinion of him, but her fears about Mazareem were momentarily forgotten when she laid eyes on Brant. His gaze met hers, and the two of them stepped towards each other. Lacrael fell into his embrace. Brant pressed his face into her hair.

  Lacrael could have stayed in Brant’s arms for the next week, but she gently pushed him away after a few seconds. They had to get out of here before Morricant figured out how they planned to escape.

  Kaiser ignored everyone and made straight for Sorrell. To everyone’s surprise, he opened his arms, and she stepped forward to welcome his embrace. They clung to each other as if they were the only two people left in the world.

  “What’s this?” Kaiser said. He had brushed against the cold fingers of Sorrell’s icy hand.

  Sorrell pulled herself out of his arms and held up her right arm for Kaiser to inspect.

  “I lost my hand to Morricant’s ribbons,” Sorrell said. “I only just discovered I can form a replacement from the ice.”

  Kaiser looked like he had been punched in the gut, but before he could remark on this, he spied Tarathine hiding behind Sorrell. Sorrell noticed where his gaze had gone and stepped out of the way. Father and daughter faced each other for the first time in weeks.

  “I never gave up hope, little mouse,” Kaiser said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Kaiser took a step forward, arms opened to scoop Tarathine up—she darted away from him. The girl kept Sorrell between herself and Kaiser and moved away every time Kaiser came close.

  Dumbfounded, Kaiser let his arms fall to his sides.

  “Tarathine, it’s me,” Kaiser said. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  “She’s still coming back to herself,” Sorrell said. “I’m sure she’ll remember you in no time.”

  Lacrael had never seen Kaiser more crestfallen. All the strength had gone out of him in an instant.

  “Hey, at least she’s alive,” Lacrael said.

  Kaiser turned his forlorn gaze towards her, and after a few long seconds, he nodded, more to himself than to her. “You’re right,” he said. “A week ago, I’d have given anything to save her life, even if it meant she forgot who I was.”

  Suddenly, Kaiser looked around him like he just realized something was missing.

  “Where’s Niad?” Kaiser asked.

  Lacrael glanced at Gustavus before answering. “She didn’t make it. She gave her life to stop Elise from slaughtering us.”

  Kaiser’s shoulders slumped. Brant looked stricken.

  “Without her, we’d never have made it this far,” Kaiser said. “She deserved better.”

  “You’re damn right, she did,” Gustavus said.

  “This is all very touching, but we’d best be about getting this portal open,” Mazareem said. “It’s not often someone gets the better of Morricant, and we don’t want to still be here when she comes seeking vengeance.”

  “About that,” Kaiser said. At the same time, he summoned one of his spectral scimitars into his hand. He stepped towards Mazareem and raised the ethereal blade until the point hovered just above the pale man’s heart.

  Mazareem’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this? Treachery at the last, even after I kept my word?”

  “Call it due diligence, if you prefer,” Kaiser said. “Brant, see if your amulet can open the portal. I’m not taking his word for it that it can’t.”

  Brant nodded, seeing the sense in this. He brushed by Lacrael and approached the wall where the outline of the portal was etched into the stone. Brant contemplated the ancient scratchings, paced back and forth for a few seconds, and then spread his arms wide. He stood that way for a moment. Nothing happened.

  “I don’t really know what I'm supposed to do to open it,” Brant said. “The last time we went through one, it worked without me doing anything.”

  “That’s because this isn’t a Dragonslayer’s portal,” Mazareem said, his voice dripping with scorn. “You could spend the rest of your life trying to activate it, and you’d be no closer to doing so than you are now. Now, if you don’t mind, can I perform the task you brought me here to accomplish?”

  Kaiser’s smoking blue sword did not waver.

  “Every one of us here has ample reason to want you dead,” Kaiser said. “So you were right, and Brant can’t open the portal. I still don’t trust you. I’ll honor the bargain, but as soon as we come out the other side, the agreement has been accomplished. If you don’t deliver us to the kingdom of Haverfell, I’ll gut you before you can open your lying mouth.”

  “Save your threats for someone who has something to lose,” Mazareem said. “Now make that pretty blade of yours useful and remove this cursed collar. I can’t use the magic required to open the portal with it on.”

  Mazareem knelt and exposed the back of his neck to Kaiser. Kaiser looked down in distaste, and Lacrael imagined Kaiser lopping off Mazareem’s head along with the collar. But Kaiser kept his word, and he touched the edge of his scimitar to the black metal torc. Mazareem’s long fingers reached up and pried the dark ring open. When it was free of his neck, he hurled it away in disgust.

  “Much better,” Mazareem said as he rubbed his now bare throat.

  Kaiser finally dismissed his sword and stepped back. He moved to stand next to Sorrell. Mazareem turned his attention to the portal, and Brant stepped aside to give the man room. Mazareem’s pale fingers traced the arcane symbols on the stone; his lips moved while he interpreted them. This went on for several minutes. Mazareem seemed to be having no more success than Brant. Kaiser broke the silence when he asked the question the others were thinking.

  “Well?” Kaiser said. “Can you open it?”

  “Patience,” Mazareem said without looking up. “This portal is ancient. I know some of these runes, but not all of them. I can open it and get us through, but I can’t guarantee where it’ll drop us. A gateway this old can be unstable, sometimes dangerous.”

  While he spoke, Mazareem jammed the fingers of his right hand into one of the gashes on his chest. When he withdrew them, they were wet with blood. Using his own blood as ink, Mazareem began to draw a spell on the rock in front of him. After making the final mark, he stepped back.

  “Let’s hope I got that right,” Mazareem said.

  In response, the outline of the portal etched into the rock wall started to glow. The light spread across the stone until every symbol and rune burned brilliantly. Lacrael watched in awe as a radiant doorway appeared in front of Mazareem. In the center of this doorway, six inches from the wall, a tiny blue cloud swirled into existence. This spinning cloud expanded until it completely eclipsed the shining runes behind it. It rotated lazily, beckoning them to step through.

  “My magic won’t keep it open long,” Mazareem said.

  “You first,” Kaiser said.

  “As you wish.”

  Mazareem plunged into the portal. He vanished in an instant. Before anyone could say anything, Gustavus went next. Kaiser took Sorrell’s hand, who had a firm grip on Tarathine’s shoulder with her icy fingers.

  “We’ll see you on the other side,” Kaiser said to Lacrael.

  Lacrael nodded, and she and Brant watched the three of them
disappear into the churning cloud.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” Brant said. “Before everything goes crazy again.”

  “What is it?” Lacrael said. She turned into Brant’s chest and looked up into his eyes.

  “I love you,” Brant said.

  Even though they were about to plunge into a portal to the unknown to escape a realm defined by death, Lacrael grinned. When she stared up into Brant’s great brown eyes, those fears seemed like minor details.

  “I love you, too,” Lacrael said. “Now, come on.”

  Lacrael took Brant by the hand and pulled him into the portal.

  Epilogue

  ABIMELECH LOOKED OUT OVER Northmark. The city sprawled beneath his mountain fastness, every plume of smoke and dirty building a testament to his failure. This trash heap had been Rowen’s creation. Now, Abimelech watched over it, a reluctant guardian hidden in plain sight.

  Beyond the city, an orange sun sank into the watery horizon. Abimelech stared at the sunset without seeing it. His vision pierced the physical veil that lay over the mortal world. Mazareem, and the three champions, had passed beyond his gaze. There was only one place that lay outside of Abimelech’s sight: Syngard.

  Syngard, the forgotten realm. Abimelech had given up his attempts to make inroads there long ago. The last of his children to come from Syngard with a report had told of an entire realm on the brink of collapse, torn apart by magical energies it could not harness or contain. That had been hundreds of years ago.

  It seemed like only a few days. After all that time, Abimelech was no closer to understanding Rowen’s designs. The fallen king persisted, and even grew stronger, no matter what forces Abimelech brought to bear against him. Rowen’s burgeoning magic defied comprehension. And as Rowen’s abilities waxed mighty, Abimelech withdrew his influence, waiting and watching, hoping to identify the source of Rowen’s mysterious power.

  What did Rowen hope to achieve in Syngard? How did he intend his champions to survive there, when Abimelech’s own children could not?