Rituals

by Ryan Hastings

  “Angel?” Enysa asked. “We’ll get you caught up,” A’mi replied kindly. Enysa brushed her pale brown hair aside. “I feel a bit stiff, but otherwise okay,” she replied with a cute smile. “Have you spoken with Roju lately?” A’mi asked. Trova nodded. “I took him to a council meeting earlier (or whatever the fuck they’re calling themselves). He and I think it may be best to move the two of you out of Kitz. This place is turning into a powder keg with an array of different matches sitting on top,” he said plainly.

  “Aren’t we sort of running out of places to run to?” A’mi asked. “Pretty much,” Trova replied casually. “I’m waiting to hear back from a buddy of mine, but I like to think we have a little bit of time before anything goes down here.” Enysa peered out the window and saw people, with bags packed, being harassed by what were essentially mercenaries. She reverted to a much quieter and timider attitude.

  “Don’t worry,” Trova stated calmly. “I’ll never be too far away to get to you. An angel intervened on behalf of the three of you. The least I can do is to keep you from more of the same shit you’ve already endured.” “Then stay with me!” Enysa abruptly shouted. Even Trova was caught off guard by the request.

  A’mi looked at the bladedancer, as if to ask, “Can you?” Trova sighed and scratched his early-greying hair. “Give me a few hours,” he replied assuredly. “Then consider me directly assigned to your welfare.” His answer drew a gracious smile from both of the ladies. Trova pulled out two pistols and checked that the clips were full. Then he set them on a nearby dresser before exiting.

  He glanced back at the two girls. “I won’t regret leaving these with you, right?” he inquired. “I grew up around guns,” Enysa excitedly assured him. Trova turned his eyes to A’mi. “Point and click?” the alchemist asked. “Good enough,” the bladedancer sighed.

  Trova would later go to a meeting place where his comrades and friends regularly broke bread. He, Kosho, and Roju sat together on this particular occasion while Kosho debriefed Trova about the two strangers. He told him of their encounter with a guardian. “Damn,” Trova pondered, “some of the city is going to be coming to them sooner or later.”

  “It sounds like these two travelers are allies though,” Roju remarked. “They were brutally honest with you. I’ve never heard of a bloodlion, but the troll made it sound pretty terrifying. Terrifying is always a good ally to make.” Kosho sighed after chugging from a bottle of rum. “Trova, ya sure war between the peoples here is fo’ sure?” he asked downheartedly. The bladedancer lit a skunkweed cigarette and agreed.

  “I don’t tink der’s any guarantee how Sahja will be if da fight come to him,” Kosho added. “That’s why we immediately need to bring them in on everything,” Roju stated. “Tell me what other choice we fucking have?” Trova exhaled with satisfaction. “Kosho and Roju, I want both of you packed and out of here while you have the cover of dark,” he declared calmly. “Kosho is very familiar with these two. Introductions shouldn’t be awkward.”

  Kosho gave a stern thumbs-up. “You got it mon.” “What about Enysa and A’mi?” Roju asked. Trova choked on his inhale. “I, uh, I said I’d stay with them,” he replied. Both the men were surprised, especially since such personal attention was not the bladedancer’s forte. Trova leered at the two. Maintaining his composure, he decared, “Enysa literally lost control of her voice to make the request.”

  Trova returned to the inn just as dusk was beginning to fade into night, giving a coded knock on the door to the room. The door slowly opened, and the bladedancer was looking down the barrel of one of his pistols. A’mi was relieved to see Trova. Enysa rushed to embrace the bladedancer who had kept his word.

  Enysa sniffed his shadowcraft armor and looked into his grey eyes, as if to ask an obvious question. Trova sighed at the girl’s puppydog-like demeanor, pulling out another skunkweed cigarette and handing it to Enysa. “Well, we do still have a lot of food in here,” A’mi joked. “How’d everything go?” Enysa asked, sparking the cigarette.

  “We’ll be relocating tomorrow,” Trova replied, removing his coat and enough of his weapons so that he could be relatively comfortable, yet still retain instant access to them. A’mi, curious about the glyphs and design, inspected his shadowcraft coat. “Why do I feel like I’ve seen something like this before?”

  “You’re in alchemy, right?” Trova replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “There’s been tons of ‘communication’ between alchemy schools and darkdancers over the ages.” Both the ladies looked at Trova in disbelief. “You’re a darkdancer!” Enysa exclaimed. Trova sighed. “ Almost, but no. The chapter I was going into was called to Malene. It was a nightmare I’d wished I had,” he said somewhat disappointedly.

  “Well, maybe we can help you?” Enysa asked. A’mi looked at her in amusement. “Are you THAT stoned already?” Enysa shrugged innocently. Trova certainly took some amusement of his own from the refreshing sort of spirit in these two; but he was constantly trying to figure out why an angel would have intervened on their behalf, or if even the angel would’ve known about them. It was more of a Q&A session for Trova, but the conversations began to wind down after a few hours.

  A’mi was quick to pass out when her head hit the pillow. Enysa looked over at Trova who was situating himself in a chair. “Can you sit over here?” she asked. “Just put your back against the headboard; you’d even be facing the door,” she cleverly added. The bladedancer grabbed a small satchel and went to sit on the bed. Enysa, wrapping her arms around a thick pillow, wedged herself with her back to Trova.

  The bladedancer began sorting through some various documents in the satchel, tossing some aside and binding others together. He wrote a handful of several short notes, each separately signed with his mark and name. They were separate communiques he’d deliver on their way out, each one addressed to allied “commanders” should the inevitable happen.

  “Mercy to those who give three rulers of the world; love to those who give The One for the world.” E:E:IX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  De’gra, Degraded

  Azal’el and company had “acquisitioned” a vehicle already beyond the border into De’gra. The estimated tens-of-millions’ demonic husks were a testament to the nation’s former population, which was now a shuffling graveyard that belonged to Dom’rel. Annihilators and pit behemoths now forged the once majestic elemental stone hills into necrotic breeding grounds. Great cities laid as rubble or less. Millions of soldiers had been lost in the various battles for the region, leaving a sour taste in the mouths of the few survivors that had been there and back.

  The military truck the squad had “acquired” barreled due east through the putrid dust. “So, where’s our first stop, angel?” Ogg inquired. “Straight through the highway gates,” Azal’el replied. “You said they’ve held the walls for some time now. They won’t keep a gate guarded if they don’t think anyone will come knock.” Diisu was gripping the roll bars as the vehicle landed from a large bump. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she uttered.

  Mooroos sniped a charging pit bull, his bullet lodging square between its red eyes. “May as well try and enjoy yourself,” he hollered from the gunner position. Genri chuckled as he steered between the rocks and remains. “Am I the only one with a desire to live past the next couple of hours,” Diisu exclaimed, covering her eyes from Genri’s driving. “Accepting death as an inevitability is incredibly freeing, Diisu,” Ogg laughed with enjoyment. “YOU TWO HAVE SAID THAT BEFORE! NOT HELPING!” she shouted back.

  The squad could already see the first great wall in the distance. These were massive structures that spanned hundreds of miles from north to south. Azal’el leaned forward. “We’re hitting them head on,” he said to Genri with an angelic bloodlust. Even though Genri knew Azal’el seemed a little too eager at times, he took a deep breath, believing in the angel’s plan.

  As they came within artillery range, shells
began exploding around the vehicle. “Diisu!” Azal’el shouted excitedly. “Show us some cover!” The mage, casting a powerful shield that repelled the explosive rounds, did her best to stand in the vehicle. Her eyes grew wider as they barreled towards a gate that no invading army had every directly broken, let alone in a lowly truck.

  Azal’el took his bladed staff in hand and stood atop the vehicle. “LAUNCH ME!” he hollered. “WHAT?” Diisu replied in disbelief. “LAUNCH ME!” the angel repeated. “GIVE ME EVERYTHING YOU CAN!” Diisu cast a powerful force-push that shot the angel ahead like a cannon. Azal’el’s weapon even gained a hint of radiance as it plunged into the metal, pulling the gates from the stone as if the angel weighed more than the world itself. “Holy shit,” Mooroos remarked, watching the towers of steel collapsing inward from a distance.

  Just before the vehicle passed through the rubble and twisted steel, an explosion came from beneath the armored truck. Diisu instantaneously extended protective wards to her comrades. Even as the squad was thrown every which way, they were able to land unscathed. Well done, daughter! Haha!

  The five were now staring down demonic filth in every direction, but the groups’ formation was better than confident. Roars and shrieks filled the air as the monsters charged. Even in his mortal form, Azal’el’s melee cleaved the hordes like a holy wind shear. Lightning chained from each of Genri’s martial blows. Mooroos methodically cycled through his weapons with every bullet finding a lethal mark. Diisu enchanted Ogg’s axes with fire while providing sheltering spells and her own offensive elemental prowess.

  The warrior met the mighty pit crushers, as if they were novices falling to the molten lightshow of each swing. Using the steel from the very gates as her weapons, Diisu cast a magnetic field. THE DEMONS ONLY GOT AS CLOSE AS THE SQUAD LET THEM. IT WAS GLORIOUS! The ranger even began throwing knives just for fun. One after another, the putrid slaves were dispatched with utter heroic expertise.

  All the while, Azal’el was looking for the regiment commander, knowing the monster would be forced to show its face. The mage lit up the ramparts with hail and fire while Genri looked a bit more like a mage himself, with all that lighting he was tossing about. The squad decimated their way beyond the gates and well into the fortification. Though the monsters tried to flank the heroes, they found no such route. Mooroos, in particular, made very sure of that. He took his newer model battle rifle by the grip, cracking a bit of a smile when the first arcane-infused round was chambered.

  “DIISU!” Ogg shouted, beginning to channel his own thunder troll blood. “LIGHT ME UP!” By now, Diisu was in her elementalist’s trance, a true weapon to behold in action. She overcharged the warrior’s axes with molten power, now combining with Ogg’s substantial electrical discharge. The warrior headed for an enormous central pillar that fed a network of ramparts above and must have leapt one hundred yards into the air. He slammed the weapons into the thick stone, digging them deeper as he slid down. A combustion reaction trailed after the warrior, beginning to blow the base of the pillar apart. Simply masterful!

  Genri punched a hole through a lich commander; and, with a twist of his hand, he created a cone of arcing electricity. It was so powerful that a hundred “undead” were fried on the spot. HAHAH! Azal’el went out of his way to intercept an approaching annihilator, leaping four stories up to plunge his bladed staff into the fiery fiend’s face. The fine blades of Uz’rel’s forge slit the necrotic-stone flesh around the head with ease, allowing it to fall from the monster’s shoulders.

  Then, a bellowing voice shouted over the battlefield in the demonic tongue, and a fallen Ma’ji alpha revealed himself with a terrible roar. The being’s fur was grey and charred. His mane was made of unholy stone and laden with flowing glyphs of the pit. His tail was gone, and his arms were fused with demonic machinery.

  Diisu churned the very stone he stood upon, forcing the being down to the squad. Genri and Ogg engaged the fiend in martial combat while Azal’el and Mooroos kept the parameters at bay. The shields Diisu now applied to Genri and Ogg were instantaneous, thus allowing Diisu to continue responding one by one to Ma’ji’s strikes. Dozens upon dozens of strikes had already been cast that helped to block the monster’s furious blows, and neither of her comrades had yet been struck. The Ma’ji lion was as skilled as both of his opponents, if not more. It was quite a spectacle.

  Blades extended from the monster’s arms, as did a number of surprise projectile components. Small artillery shells exploded at close range, and brief bursts of gunfire accompanied the Ma’ji’s onslaught. Not focusing on her own protection, Diisu would receive some minor injuries. Though her comrades were holding their own against the lion, they were on the back foot. They needed the beast to make a mistake.

  The monster caught both of the warrior’s blades in his hands, enabling him to resist their edges and elements. Genri put the beast in a chokehold from behind, with his own elemental power being exhausted as he did. The Ma’ji seemed to be coming into a second wind. Its eyes were locking in on Diisu as it barely struggled against the thunder trolls before or behind it. “CLOSE YOUR EYES!” Diisu yelled. Luckily, everyone did; because, literally, a blinding flash quickly filled the arena.

  As a whole, the monsters around them were affected. It certainly dazed the commander enough to matter. Ogg and Genri used their momentum to break the warrior’s axes from the monster’s grips. Genri landed a powerful elbow into the beast’s spine. The force staggered the monster forward where Ogg made a swift upward swing into the commander’s brain. It took a moment (almost as if the monster was trying to fight against this utterly mortal wound); but, after a step or two forward, the Ma’ji slowly fell to one knee. Then it finally slumped forward, even more lifeless than before. The more powerful demons actually retreated to spare their own existence while the cannon fodder continued to be culled by the heroes. Eventually, the “undead” began to disperse altogether and they were not even worth the chase.

  The squad was victorious enough for anyone’s liking. Even Diisu felt more invigorated than she had in some time. “I’m glad that’s done. I was out of bullets for my favorite guns,” Mooroos remarked, putting a final round into the head of a twitching pit serpent. They gathered together and then began a search of the area.

  “Why were they so quick to run?” Genri asked. “Because they’re on their own,” Azal’el replied. “There are thousands of garrison points along this wall, but they’re all acting independently. As of now, a lot of eyes are just watching our next move. Also, demons do not tend to protect one another,” he explained, gesturing down the fortification that ran into the horizon. “Do we have a plan?” Ogg inquired. “Yes, we do,” Azal’el replied confidently.

  There was still a presence of mortal corpses mutilated beyond recognition. Part of their morale was just as quickly taken. This came when they began to see the extent of the wickedness that had been there. They found the skulls of children gathered together in piles, and they saw bodies ritualistically hung by the masses along the ramparts. They entered into a building that resembled an officer’s post, smelling the dried blood and bodily excrements that were painted into glyphs of the pit all around them.

  “Is there any specific reason we’re torturing our senses, sir?” Ogg inquired, having his nose covered with a cloth. Azal’el seemed to be reading the designs, though they appeared to be incoherent and almost coded. “This was at least a summoning ground,” the angel stated solemnly, “which means there are more bodies here than we’re seeing.”

  Falling to her knees on the ramparts outside, Diisu let out a singular shriek that she quickly muted. The group rushed over to see a garbage heap of mortal flesh. The angel did the math in his head on how much would’ve been needed to power such a summoning station. Genri came beside the angel, also covering his nose and mouth. “There must be . . .” he began, “somewhere around three hundred thousand,” Azal’el replied with a vengeful look about him.

/>   The angel called Diisu over and laid his hands on her shoulders, facing her towards the heaps. She wanted to close her eyes to the sight but knew she couldn’t. The angel did not remove his hands as he said, “Let’s give them something a bit more respectful.” Diisu could feel an overwhelming surge of energy. She put everything she could into a mighty torrent of fire, crying out as the pillars of fire consumed the rancid sight.

  Taking control of portions of the flames, the angel motioned with one of his hands. A separate serpent of fire soared along the wall, penetrating every manner of ingress. Even Azal’el’s eye changed a bit for those who caught a glimpse. Perhaps there was another helping hand?

  It was enough to sap the mage of her stamina. She staggered for only a second before Mooroos caught her and held her. Ogg had clearly never seen Diisu execute such raw power. He couldn’t help but kneel before Azal’el. The angel even seemed a little lightheaded, patting the warrior on his shoulder as he walked by. His lack of words spoke plenty.

  There were some minutes of silence as the squad rested. “We’ll be lucky to find transport in a place like this,” Mooroos finally stated. “There is a great lake beyond this wall, maybe shy of a hundred miles due northeast,” Ogg stated. “Without having to hoof it to the second wall (or all the way into Dema) I’d say it could be our best bet.” Azal’el glanced up to the darkened sky, smirking at a distant and unique thunder.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  An Old Council

  There was a lone mountain at the center of Asheya, the tower of black glass. To this day, no mortal being of any sort had seen its peak. It serves as the nest of Kush’hera and her stormdrakes. In this particular instance, it also served as a meeting place.