Rituals

by Ryan Hastings

  “No, I just fail to see what da guardians be up to,” Kosho replied. “You’re really that bored?” Sahja remarked with a grin. “Me whole crew is bored!” Kosho cried out. “Der be no more runs to Asheya. We were de only crew bored and crazy enough to make doze runs,” he continued, wrapping his long arms around the guardian.

  “Well, then, this is a fortunate meeting,” Sahja said with an uncomfortable smile. “A job opening just came up.” Kosho gave an exaggerated gasp of joy. “Are you serious?” Fia asked her companion. “You don’t want professional soldiers? Or heroes? No offense, Kosho,” she added. “None taken,” the troll replied happily. “The military will be fine. I don’t want to pull more of their resources and name a hero in Dema that isn’t already devoted to a position,” Sahja remarked. He then turned to the troll and asked, “How many do you have?” “Eleven and meself make twelve,” Kosho replied. “How are any of you guys with firearms?” Fia asked with an expression of dread at the anticipated answer.

  “I mean, I can throw stuff really well,” Kosho stated proudly. “I tink’ Deacon and Duke served in De’gra.” “So, we’ll give them a tutorial. They can learn as they go,” Sahja said casually. “Da best way to learn,” Kosho exclaimed. Fia just put her palm to her face. “So, what be da gig, boss?” Kosho asked.

  So, Sahja explained the nature of their future expeditions as they left the grove. The troll wasn’t dissuaded by the inherent peril, nor were the crew members he eventually gathered. It was an odd but promising lot.

  Meanwhile, Roju had just crossed the bridge into southern Kussuum, an area that had been secured in its entirety by the defense forces. There was a large rocky island south of the state that had been scouted and found to have no trace of a hostile presence. This area was also in the beginning stages of becoming a historic naval base.

  However, Roju was headed farther inland past the tributary’s edge. Those in the company were awestricken by the elemental flux in the distance. Strange and wicked skies were overhead. Roju eventually found himself joining another battle, a fortified line that was providing support for forward-moving troops.

  Roju watched as other tanks and components of their convoy dropped off at various positions along the way, with artillery and projectiles flying in either direction. The soldier sat down, letting his legs dangle from the speeding armor. He calmly listened to the symphony around him, happy that he hadn’t missed the overture.

  “Sixty seconds!” a gunner yelled. “Thy will. Otherwise, just keep my happy ass together,” he uttered, as the large tank began to slow to a halt. Roju jumped down from the vehicle, followed by several cogs who set up compactable tower shields perpendicular to the sides of the tank.

  Roju waved at some comrades with a similar setup not 50 yards east of them. A soldier “over yonder” returned the gesture with a sharp whistle. Some cogs and soldiers of his unit then set up an apparatus that stabilized the tank’s position during recoil. This particular setup is meant to be “semi-permanent.” Literally, the next step was setting up camp in and behind the mini-fortresses.

  Roju glanced out over the embattled expanse before him, curiously looking through a scope at some of the larger corpses in the distance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  How to Bleed Someone

  Dom’rel had been alone in his throne room for a while now, simply watching things unfold through the endless number of eyes he had on Harth. Celestials and fallen guardians coming into play were intriguing to say the least. Dom’rel was playing a game, and he was the sort of player that enjoyed longevity.

  “Os’rel,” the dark lord uttered into the streams. A dark portal opened before the devil’s throne, and a fallen archangel stepped forth. His armor resembled that of a dragon, but its original radiance had long since perished. The thick armor still had angelic arrows lodged in one of the shoulders while his scythe was brandished with feathers from kin he’d slain.

  “I’ve been remiss. We’ve been ignoring a theatre,” Dom’rel stated. “Strike at Veil’Tasha. The elves need to be reminded we haven’t overlooked them.” Os’rel nodded but said nothing. “The fall of a terrani pillar should be enough to entice that snake to make a bolder move,” Dom’rel continued. “Remind all of them how frail they are.”

  Again, Os’rel gave a single nod but said nothing. His bladed and mutated wings simply twitched with anticipation, sharing the sort of insight Dom’rel enjoyed in seeing the eventual bloodbath to come. “As much as they bicker about their own victors, humanity will never understand how much of history I’ve written,” the dark lord stated with self-satisfaction.

  Os’rel, changing the coordinates of his portal, motioned with his hand. The anomaly became larger and darker, swirling in the opposite direction. “Shatter their spirits, brother. Bring some noise to those caverns,” Dom’rel concluded. Os’rel saluted his master and was then engulfed by the portal.

  The very arrival of Os’rel among the underworld caused a disturbance throughout the nether. Some of the elder terrani prophets suddenly died from the sudden surge of darkness in their mind’s eye, overwhelming their mortal bodies with an immortal pain and dread.

  Os’rel, the seventh-born, subtly bred into the sheer monster he is today. He is a fallen archangel among those that assisted Dom’rel to imprison Deth all those years ago. During the rebellion, he also laid low a dozen other archangels and hundreds more of his youngling kin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Familiar Faces

  The darkdancer and his companions had driven to the southern port of Dema where they boarded the first of a series of sea craft that island-hopped all the way back to the south of Tok’tala. Trova led the two familiars through the light jungle to the open-air chapter facility. The lot of them were surprised to find Miri’el there. A’mi greeted the angel with a child-like embrace.

  Miri’el looked at Enysa and smiled. “Hello, Enysa,” she said warmly. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.” “This is Enysa, the one who saved Roju and us?” A’mi asked. Enysa fell to her knees, not knowing what else to do. The angel motioned for Enysa to stand back up, and she looked into the girl’s eyes. “I see you managed to find one,” she kindly stated.

  “Hm?” Trova replied curiously, distracted by the local enchanted wildlife that was tidying up the facility. A’mi and Enysa shared a confused expression as well at the angel’s remark. “We’re just familiars,” Enysa said timidly. “I could’ve sworn I felt the shadow tether pulse a couple days ago,” Miri’el replied hintingly, while glancing at Trova.

  “I can be a darkdancer,” Enysa exclaimed excitedly. “Wait a minute,” Trova interjected. “To begin with, she doesn’t carry a heroic gift.” “Neither did Mirym,” Miri’el politely interrupted. “Your concern for her is why you are in the position you’re in, Trova. You’re still a leader at the core who would lay down your life for your people.”

  “Miri’el?” A’mi asked. “Surely she’s gone through enough to…,” but she couldn’t finish her sentence. The angel shook her head and said, “Sadly, the ritual must remain in place. Flesh must be broken, which is the lasting reminder of one’s defilement. This is still a mutalative augmentation of natural existence. However, the decision ultimately lies with Enysa.” Enysa found herself with a mixture of emotions and feelings. “Trova?” she asked quietly.

  The darkdancer did not reply for a few moments but then finally turned around and leaned against the table behind him. “Are you waiting for me to come up with something clever?” he asked. “This is what your scars are from,” Enysa asked semi-rhetorically. The darkdancer nodded. Enysa sensed something reverberate in her being, gently aligning itself with her heartbeat. She agreed to the undertaking.

  Only a couple of hours later A’mi finished aiding Enysa by tying her short sand-colored hair back. Indeed, the candidate’s petite stature was already spotted with scars and burns, but blood is always required.

/>   I think we can bypass the details this time.

  “You don’t have to look, daughter. I’m here,” a voice said to Enysa, as she found herself lifted from burning black sands. She was in the arms of a shrouded figure that had two wings like an angel and two like a dragon. There was nothing but fire, darkness, desolation, and searing winds around her.

  Enysa recognized her own voice as a younger girl behind her. “NO!” she cried, leaping from the ethereal figure’s protection. She ran towards her younger self because she knew she was being given away as a payment for her town’s protection. Enysa couldn’t make it in time.

  The figure appeared before her again, spreading his wings to block the torrent of memories that began to play out. Enysa fell against the towering figure and covered her ears as she sobbed. “People always try to understand evil,” the figure stated, in a booming but distorted voice. “But, there’s never anything to understand.”

  “You protect this thief and harlot, Shadow?” Dom’rel hollered from behind the wings. Enysa stumbled at the devil’s voice, but she then went under the massive feathers and leaned against a translucent barrier. The figure continued to face away, remaining silent.

  She couldn’t see Dom’rel, but now found herself watching all the debauchery of her life. She felt sick, mouthing, “I’m sorry,” as tears flooded her eyes. The massive wing gently separated Enysa from the view of the spectres. “My dear shadow,” the figure said, “your heart has cried out, and your sins are forgiven. Draw strength from that which the fall subjugated you. Use it to be a candle with the fire of the Light Himself.”

  Taking the entity’s hand to help her stand, Enysa could no longer feel the environment around her. She fell into the shrouded figure, grasping the chain-link robes to support herself, and wept. “I’ve had the privilege to watch humanity grow by the Light’s side for some time now,” said the entity. “To see the truth take root in every corner of the world has been astonishing, but the nature of the fall cannot be easily corrected. War will exist so long as Harth remains a battleground.”

  Enysa’s tears fell straight down. The chaotic winds broke around the expanse of the wingspan and seemingly beyond. “Tell Him how sorry I am,” Enysa cried. “He knows, child,” the entity replied. The large entity’s wings encircled the girl, and Enysa faded into the dark.

  A’mi quickly provided a sedative to assist with the return process. She checked Enysa’s eyes and essentials, giving the all-clear. Enysa would be allowed to rest and recover. Her friends were relieved at the successful process.

  The sun would soon rise over the Anoshi isles. While many refugees had been allowed through by now, two visitors now came from the other side. “I guess we didn’t think that it would be summer here,” Azotus remarked. Sapphira threw down her heavy military coat and began rolling up everything she could.

  It wasn’t hard for Sapph and Azotus to notice the voidkeeper. The girl quite literally had an aura about her. Sapphira stopped to take notes while Azotus went to speak with the girl. Even Stella was startled to see the furry behemoth approach her, but she bowed as if to invite a guest into a home. The wolvyn gave a casual salute in response.

  “The bridge will remain active for at least another 40 hours,” Stella said quietly and respectfully. “I was instructed as much.” “Instructed?” Azotus replied curiously. The girl nodded. “Their majesties, Bol’rel and Miri’el,” she said softly. The wolvyn was genuinely shocked that the girl had brushed shoulders with Bol’rel, and that she was so passive about the fact.

  “What’s that glow in the distance?” Sapphira inquired, pointing southeast. “That is Asheya,” Stella replied. “The throne of Kush’hera.” “KUSHI?” Azotus exclaimed in disbelief. “The sky-shatter fights on our side!” The voidkeeper, gently nodding in affirmation to his question, looked at the warrior with wide eyes as he put his massive claws on her shoulders.

  “Kushi?” Sapphira asked confusedly. “We have plenty to make our report on, miss,” Azotus boasted happily. “It’s a grand relief to have such allies across the world.” “I would very much like to see Shiro myself,” Stella remarked, “but I would need to check with their majesty first.” “Of course,” Azotus answered. “You seem to have a key, so you can let yourself in anytime,” he joked.

  “I can’t imagine what you and Morgan would be able to do together,” Sapphira added in thought. “Morgan? The natural voidmancer?” Stella inquired curiously. “Aye,” Azotus stated confidently. “She’s quiet like you--maybe a little rougher around the edges.” Sapphira asked to speak with any military commanders in the area. Azotus remained with Stella, asking her about the matters in Zuhetta as she’d witnessed them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Landmine

  Azal’el and his squad were reeling from their vehicle being flipped into the air. A land mine from a bygone war had now put them in a less than desirable position. “SOUND OFF!” Azal’el shouted, taking his bladed staff in hand. “A FUCKING LAND MINE! OF ALL THINGS,” Ogg yelled angrily. “INCOMING! ALL DIRECTIONS!” Mooroos shouted, setting up cover and opening fire on their aggressors.

  Genri charged himself with lightning. “MAKE SOME NOISE PEOPLE. WE’RE ON HIGH GROUND. IF FORCES ARE NEARBY, THEY’LL SEE US,” he ordered. Diisu conjured a bright orb and hurled it into the sky. The orb burst, illuminating miles around, and was visible from even farther away. “What was that bit about being noisy?” the gunslinger joked.

  This time around Diisu focused on protective spells for her comrades, praying that the objective was just to hold out long enough. The battle began as chaos. Underworld beasts engaged pit fiends. Both were now after the squad, still killing one another in the melee. This would prove to be to the squad’s advantage in this case.

  The angel was still keen in a fight but was much more defensive in his combat. His killing blows were clean and quick as he’d plunge, with only two motions, the headblade into a hulking moss panther’s cranium. With his eyes gone, the angel read the surrounding nether of the battlefield.

  Genri tore the jaw from a pit boar, using the tusk as a shiv in the face of an undead brute. WONDERFUL! A pit crusher came down at the man with a mighty swing, but he caught the fiend’s arms. A powerful surge of lightning was the precursor to Genri ripping the monster’s appendages clean off.

  Mooroos provided covering fire for Ogg, who was advancing farther away from the crash site. While the warrior was certainly leaving his mark, he was trying to draw more of the monsters away from rushing the squad’s cover. “INCOMING ARTILLERY!” Mooroos shouted. Diisu cast a powerful dome around the squad’s position. “OGG!” she yelled.

  The warrior rushed towards the glowing dome, diving through as explosions chased him. The amount of force Diisu had to hold was enough to temporarily lower her trance. “HOW DO THEY ALREADY HAVE ARTILLERY HERE AGAIN?” Ogg yelled. Then more shells exploded, but now they were farther away and coming from the other direction.

  “Reinforcements?” Azal’el asked. “Reinforcements,” Genri echoed happily, watching dozens of tanks and hundreds of soldiers heading from the advancing alliance lines. The monsters had no choice but to disperse as they were engaged by the military. Roaring and hissing bullets tore through their putrid flesh.

  The armored divisions dispatched the gathering enemy lines with utterly effective precision. Siege beasts of either dark army were laid low by explosive shells and high-caliber rounds. The peons and trash were swept back by well equipped and organized defense forces, sprinkled with heroes of various disciplines throughout.

  A lieutenant approached the squad, saluting and saying, “Forward armor, Theta division. Are there any besides you five?” “Nope, just us,” Genri sighed with relief. “Where the hell did you guys come from?” the lieutenant asked. “Long story,” Azal’el stated with exhaustion. “We just need to get to Kitz.”

  “Well, Kitz has been burned to the ground,” the officer re
plied, “but, I’m sure you’ll still find what you’re after in the BFC zones.” “We’re on directive from Kush’hera,” Genri remarked. “Does this BFC have a chief representative?” The officer wasn’t totally keen as to the nature of the group, but he was wise enough to hail direct transport into Dema.

  “I’ll see to it that you find the guardians once we make it back to Dema,” the lieutenant shouted as the squad boarded the armor. “Guardians?” Diisu uttered. “Plural?” Ogg shrugged. “I’m just ready for a bath,” he said, lying against the vehicle’s metal. “Yeah, you get first dibs,” Mooroos mocked. Diisu rested her head on Genri’s shoulder, grabbing ahold of his primeval robes like a blanket.

  Azal’el adjusted his blindfold, chuckling to himself as the tank pulled away. He could hear the sounds of distant artillery and gunfire continue as they passed by. “Thank you, Father,” he said quietly.

  The people of the Bonfire City would watch in awe as Kush’hera herself descended onto the shores of the tributary. They came to meet the heroes from whom she’d departed some time ago. Seeing the armored escort approaching over the bridge, Sahja and Fia were at the Celestial’s side soon after she’d touched down.

  One by one, the squad stepped out of their transport, Azal’el being the last to step foot on Demanian soil. Though the angel seemed hesitant at something, the group bowed before him and saluted their greeters. “So, you’re guardians?” he asked with a grin. “If that isn’t forgiveness for what you’ve done, I don’t know what is.”

  “You know us?” Fia asked. “I’ve heard of the three children you birthed--one for each continent. Congratulations,” the angel vented, “married by the devil himself.”“Reclaimed through sacrifice and their own decent souls,” Kush’hera added firmly. “They are an asset to the people. Do I need to remind you that this decision went well beyond your power, youngling?”