The Ancients

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “There’s no way… My force field cannot withstand something like this,” Cyrus said in a nervousness that reduced his speech to a whisper.

  “This is the power of the Earth Sage!” a declaration came from the skies as the first of the mountains was hurled down with the power to obliterate the entire island. Cyrus raised his force field. Lyla also made an attempt, but they both knew the futility of their defences against something as massive as an actual mountain being thrown at them – this was a scale of attack that neither of them could have prepared for.

  As the two looked up at the approaching calamity, a black cloud of hope appeared high in the sky – a tiny spec that Lyla knew was Wizard.

  “Summoning!” Wizard commanded, “Spatial Gateway!” He held his arms out widely like a sacrificial messiah. Appeared before him was a black portal that stretched across tens of square miles. Wizard clenched his teeth as the massive sphere weighing several billion tonnes plunged into the portal. Summoning a portal of this size was already something only a few arcanines could accomplish, but to transport a mountain was an even much more arduous task. Wizard knew all of the math, and despite logic telling him firmly to flee, he proceeded with using the portal. The average arcanine, at full strength, could manage to transport at best a hundredth of the mass of this mountain. But Wizard knew well how far above average he was. Adam and Witch – who was now close by the Earth Sage on her large white dragon – watched as the sphere was eaten up by Wizard’s portal.

  Across the world in the midst of an ocean, Wizard had spawned a clone to stabilize the other end of the portal, from which the sphere was launched from the height of the clouds, plummeting into the ocean with meteoric force, creating what to sages was a tiny ripple, but to men was a tsunami that would have erased any nearby island with ease.

  As soon as the entire sphere was transported, the black gateway disappeared, leaving behind a panting Wizard, whose mana had reached down to a dangerous level. Wizard shifted in a black cloud, but when he appeared on the ground where the others were, it was a purple cloud that shrouded him. He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was way too heavy. He could hardly stand. Lyla tried to rush to him, but she still could not move an inch.

  “Wizard! Get us out of here!” Lyla burst. “Or we’re all finished!”

  “Qu--quiet… down,” Wizard said through his breathlessness, slowly rising to a firm stance. He nudged his mana and it blackened thickly.

  “You need to shift us out of here!” Lyla insisted.

  “If we run away, this entire island will be destroyed by this attack,” Cyrus said. “There must be millions of people living here!”

  “That’s not the issue,” Wizard said. “Even since landing here just now… the sage has taken my ability to shift,” he said, sounding quite ashamed. “And the gravity manipulation has been strengthened also. Witch too has triggered her Gravity Flux.”

  “In other words… We’re not going anywhere,” Cyrus figured.

  Witch laughed.

  “Let’s see how they handle the second one,” Adam said to her, then lowered his arm in command.

  Wizard grabbed on to Lyla strongly. She cried out as she felt all her mana leave her at once, almost taking her very life force along. Wizard’s mana flared greatly, and wings of black mana appeared on his back. He flew upward swiftly toward the descending doom. “Spatial Gateway!” he bellowed, summoning a portal slightly bigger than the first. His veins bulged. Blood vessels ruptured and bones cracked inside him as he dug into the very limits of arcane magic. As the mountain headed into the portal, another clone had to be created to stabilize the portal somewhere else, and again, the mountain was plunged into the middle of an ocean.

  Devoid of all energy, Wizard’s black wings disappeared, along with all mana that was about him. His body succumbed to gravity.

  “Wizard!” Lyla cried out as he fell with no ability to shift or to create more wings. He was barely even conscious. Cyrus grabbed his temples and created a complex and gentle force field that broke Wizard’s fall effectively, giving him a slow and tender landing. A small puff of black mana left Wizard’s mouth as he exhaled deeply. He was on his back. He mustered up the strength to stand, but he knew that even the simplest spell was now beyond his reach.

  “You’ve… You’ve done it,” Lyla said, but Adam and Witch were still in the clouds.

  “You have done well, Wizard,” the Earth Sage’s voice echoed up from the earth beneath them. “You have displayed the power of two hundred arcanines… But so did your sister, Kha-Deva, in the last war. And I destroyed her.”

  Wizard’s fists tightened, but there was nothing he could do.

  “Now that you have no way of escape… embrace your final moment!”

  With that, there was another quake of exceeding magnitude. Lyla fell to her knees in resignation as she witnessed a third mountain rise to the sky. This one was as massive as the previous two combined, and arose slowly. Adam’s hands trembled under the 60 billion tonnes of rock. This mountain was in the distance many miles off. It was the island’s most massive mountain.

  “Is this the end, Wizard?” Lyla asked as the mountain crumbled itself into a dense sphere – a sun of stone whose light was death.

  Witch held her hand out toward where the sphere was, and in seconds, it was encased in a black glow.

  “Witch has enhanced the potential power of the hit,” Wizard said. “Either way, we are dead, but now they have ensured that the island will be sunk… This is the end,” Wizard said. “My foolish sister, come with me!” At that moment, a yellow snake wound its way up Witch’s right leg. She looked down in a gasp, but it was too late. The snake that came forth from the seal made by Wizard’s summoning was a variation of Omichron’s Snake Bomb technique.

  The snake exploded before the woman could shift, blowing her leg to bits and flinging her off the dragon. Tiny yellow specs from the blast forged themselves into more snakes, which latched on to Witch all over her body. Panic preventing shifting, she was completely obliterated as the snakes exploded.

  “Such a careless woman,” Adam hissed. “Well. The show must go on,” he scoffed. “I bid you all, return to the earth!” Adam’s voice reverberated down below, and the giant sphere tore down from the clouds toward Cyrus, Wizard and Lyla.

  In this final moment, Cyrus thought that he might as well push beyond his own limit, in a final effort to survive. He entered the realm of his mind and tore down the barrier that had been keeping his mind from rupturing under its great potential. His eyes glowed a pure whiteness as the most powerful force-field ever to be created on earth was conjured around him, Wizard and Lyla.

  Even with this kind of defence, however, the mountainous attack could not be mitigated. Like a marble flicked by the finger God, the sphere of rock, coated by black magic, pierced through the island with a power matched so far only by attacks of the first war. Escape or survival was outside of the power of anyone on that damned island. The whole island was torn apart mercilessly, Cyrus’ shield a nonfactor.

  Adam laughed menacingly as the island of four thousand square miles was turned to bits and pieces that were quickly submerged. Millions perished within moments.

  Chapter 31: Loose Ends

  The second Azar returned to the tower after another of his frequent field visits, Ruben delivered the grim reports; “Another island is lost. Cyrus, Wizard and that woman…”

  ***

  “Anam Garadan!” Viknor summed yet another shield to block’s Falcon’s raging fire. He shifted from the fiery mess, getting himself just behind Falcon, but as soon as he could make a strike, Hilda was already upon him with a shift, forcing him to make an escape. Viknor hissed and summoned up swords as Hilda charged up to him once again, making increasingly vicious swings. But Viknor was no child at swordplay either. He exchanged swings with Hilda until he had to shift again when Falcon came in from behind with his flaming sword.

  “Anam Resal!” Hilda commanded, forcing Viknor into another shif
t. The hot beam of bustling mana ripped through everything in its path. The moment Viknor appeared, Falcon was already upon him. Falcon’s attack was too fast to be blocked. Viknor shifted again.

  “Summoning! Snake Nest!” the reappeared Viknor called forth, and a black portal stretched across the grounds of the battlefield. Massive snakes erupted from the ground, rushing at Hilda and Falcon. Hilda cut down the giant snakes with her blinding purple blades as they approached her.

  But Falcon had a more effective method of extermination. “Fire Art! Flame Dance!” he commanded. Thick flames engulfed him, then exploded in a hot pulse, stretching for almost half a square mile. Hilda and Viknor were spared by their quick shields, but Viknor’s entire army of snakes had been reduced to leathery ash.

  “I’m wasting time,” Viknor hissed. “My mana is being pressured, and I’m nowhere closer to winning. It’s regrettable, but I’ll have to go for that weapon…” He closed his eyes, and reached into the realm where he had fought his father to a gruelling victory. By the time his eyes were opened, there was a special blade in his hand, one that neither Hilda nor Falcon had any idea about.

  “What, do you think a prettier sword will help you?” Hilda mocked. “Clearly, you are outmatched. You should give up and let me kill you!”

  “Fire Art! Flame Angel!” Falcon said. Suddenly, he was cloaked in flames that scorched Hilda’s dress from where she stood meters off. In his right hand was a sword of dense white fire.

  As if Viknor was right upon Falcon, he swung the heavy blade mightily. The swing dented his mana far more critically than he had expected. Hilda’s eyes widened and fidgeted as it appeared that an invisible sword wiped cleanly through the masked man’s throat. An elemental giant some meters behind Falcon was cut in two, and yet another which was behind that one. The flames from Falcon’s body vanished as his head fell.

  “Impossible…” Viknor muttered as the bird mask was separated from the head’s face. How can this be? Is this some kind of reanimation? What the hell is going on?

  Viknor looked at Hilda, whose face was completely blank. Colourless. Lifeless. This kind of expression – or lack thereof – worried Viknor rightfully. In moments, Hilda’s body began to shake profusely.

  ***

  Forty-Six and a Half Years Earlier…

  The clandestine group of shadowy figures gathered in the room that did not exist.

  “It is confirmed that the battle has begun,” Gilgash said. “Lord Vax, shall we take our positions?”

  “Yes. Go on. This battle gives us a valuable chance to replace our missing Shadow Councillor,” Prime Minister Vax answered. “But remember, if Catherina is the one who dies, do not take her. She will certainly not comply with us by any means, and will probably expose and try to destroy this council. The best candidate would be Viknor – as he is at the moment quite unstable, and has strong reasons to hate the Ogal Council. Additionally, I think he is the most talented of all the councillors. He is, after all, Aredes’ own son.”

  “Understood. I will go with Clevalli.”

  “Take Pika with you instead,” Vax advised.

  Pika, the council’s fledgling grinned. Gilgash knew Pika needed more experience on the field, but he always felt like working with him was too much like babysitting. Pika was hot-headed and always ready to fight – a quality Gilgash thought was detrimental to the council, but Vax saw great potential in him.

  “Very well,” Gilgash finally said.

  Gilgash and Pika were a ways off from Viknor’s grand battle. They were standing on a dragon they had always used for reconnaissance, since its energy could not be detected by even the most perceptive sorcerers – an Aghadi Dragon. They were also shrouded in a cloud of invisibility, and were distanced enough that their own magic would not be picked up – at least not over the exorbitant energies that clashed in the battle.

  They watched everything. Pika’s eyes gleamed, and he fidgeted a lot.

  “Relax, boy!” Gilgash tried to whisper.

  “Adamian Defense!” Viknor’s voice resounded.

  Pika gasped, having never seen these kinds of techniques before. “This Viknor sure is powerful!” he mused.

  “This is your first real mission. Mess this up and you’re dead. Get Thimius out that--” But before Gilgamesh could finish, Pika had already disappeared, leaving behind his trademark burst of lightning. In that very moment, he had returned, the unconscious councillor in his arms.

  Gilgash snickered. “As much as you annoy me, kid, that lightning-fast shift of yours is worth keepin’ you alive. Let’s go.”

  “But I want to see this fight till the end!” Pika complained.

  Gilgash hissed and grabbed Pika, shifting off with him.

  ***

  Thimius cracked his eyes opened. “Where—Hilda…” He soon became conscious enough to realize that he was in chains and ropes. He also realized that he was sitting on a chair in front of a table. He tugged weakly at the shackles that were on his wrists and ankles, but he quickly recognized that they were anti-magic tools, preventing even spaceshifting. “Viknor…”

  “Yes, it is he who we really wanted,” a voice came in. Somehow, he just became aware that others were seated about the table with him. His slowly returning vision showed him that he wasn’t indeed in complete darkness. The brightness from Pika’s shift had temporarily blinded him.

  “Who are you people?” Thimius asked. He tried to sound tough, but it was clear that he was very nervous, and even more confused.

  “My name is Gilgash,” one voice answered him, the voice of the man just before him. Gilgash pushed something that Thimius hadn’t noticed was on the table closer to him. The confused sorcerer looked down at the creepy mask. “We need a new Falcon,” Gilgash said.

  “What the hell is this?” Thimius questioned.

  “The only way to keep Hilda alive,” Vax’s voice came in.

  ***

  But this answer to the frightful mystery would never belong to either Viknor or Hilda. All that they had were the impossible questions and the exhumed pain.

  “Hilda…” Viknor said, as the woman stared down at the severed head of the only man she had ever loved. His face was much more wrinkled now, and hair much thicker and greyer, but it was still unmistakably him.

  “I don’t – I don’t understand… How…”

  “Hilda, look at me,” Viknor said.

  The woman slowly moved her cold eyes to Viknor. In them was a hatred that was beyond measure – almost beyond human. “Twice you have…” The purple mana around her boiled up and expanded, and then it started to crackle and spark, like it was changing its form altogether

  “I don’t know what’s going on here,” Viknor said. “But it is clear that Oga is only toying with you. He must have known who this man was, and your ties to him in the past. He paired you up knowing that if either of you was to be killed, the other would suffer a horrible pain, and as such become enraged and volatile, making for a more destructive weapon,” Viknor explained.

  But what good would some rhetoric like this be right now? Could it undo either of Thimius’ deaths? Viknor took a few paces back as Hilda’s mana became viler and more unstable. Its brightness tensed into a thick dark purple that pushed against the boundary of the sixth grade.

  I’ll have to save the repentance for later. If I stand around until Hilda forces herself into arcane power… Besides, she is still an enemy, regardless of this development. She must be cut down. He clenched the Air Cutter tightly and made a powerful swing at Hilda. This threw another palpable dent in his mana. But Hilda had escaped the sword’s power in a movement swift as shifting.

  “Die, Viknor!” she blasted, reaching from almost directly behind him with purple blades.

  Her speed is even scarier now! He shifted away instead of trying to defend with the Air Cutter, which was too heavy a weapon to be wielded quickly enough against Hilda in close combat. Even though he had appeared some meters away, trying to give himself time to catch his bre
ath, Hilda was quickly upon him again. He reverse-summoned the special sword made by Oga and summoned up purple mana swords, deciding that wasting mana shifting out of Hilda’s swift attacks wouldn’t be of help in the end. His swords of bright purple clashed against Hilda’s swords of a darker, more menacing purple magic. As she swung with the need to kill, the strikes became harder and faster, until Viknor had to shift again to avoid being killed.

  “Anam Resal!” Viknor summoned from a distance off.

  “Anam Resal!” Hilda commanded as well. Her dress fluttered wildly as the bitter swarm of raw power clashed with and easily overcame Viknor’s attack. With wide eyes and a fright he had not felt in some time, Viknor shifted away, Hilda’s mana beam ripping through his power like nothing, wreaking havoc on the battlefield for miles.

  “Lightning Art!” Hilda blasted.

  Sorry, Hilda, but I have no time for honour at this point, Viknor resolved, and rushed up to his enemy with all the speed he could find. But Hilda raised her hand to deliver a swifter and deadlier attack than Viknor’s sword could manage. In another purple cloud, Viknor vanished to appear just behind Hilda, who spun quickly enough to fend off and counter any surprise attack. Well. Not this one.

  The woman shook in utter fright, and the lightning magic that was around her subsided instantly. Before her was standing a man wearing a falcon mask. In that very moment of weakness, Viknor made no hesitation in plunging a sword in Hilda’s chest, instantly destroying her heart. The woman’s corpse landed only yards from her lover’s. Viknor took off Thimius’ mask and threw it down, feeling disgusted. To play on Hilda’s emotion like this was not something he would ever consider to be an honourable strategy, but it might have been a necessary one. He looked back over at Thimius again. “More answers to search for after this wretched war,” he told himself.

  ***

  Across the expanses of the globe, armies, sorcerers and elementalists defended the little that was left of the world with valour and might that saw small victories on many a battlefield. But even upon the scope of the world’s grand battles, two swordsmen on the small continent of Libson, in a small village descended from Kizer, would not be outdone. Thousands of the soldiers and even giants pooled in on them from all over Libson, but they could not reach Zakashi village fast enough to overwhelm Kyle and Blade. They were two omnipresent blurs on a battlefield painted with blood and bodies.