by Rosie Scott
“Hell,” I cursed, shaking my head. “Trying to make up for the gold they lost, I suppose.”
“It wasn't even gold they'd lost,” Cyrus argued lightly. “They would have never gotten gold at all. The people couldn't afford Sera's healers. That was the point.” The Sentinel sighed. “This is why I truly hope you win this war, Kai. You will be the first in the line of Seran royalty to change how these things work. It's a long time coming. With you as Chairel's leader, perhaps the two strongest world powers could be at peace.”
I eyed him from the side, my mind on Tilda and the Sentinel's plans for her. “The two strongest world powers could be at peace only if both leaders agree.”
Cyrus nodded, though he didn't risk saying more. “There it is, Kai,” he pointed as the town of Dagmar slowly showed itself from around the cluster of small mountains to our right. “You wanted to see Dagmar.”
“I wanted to warn them,” I murmured, my hands holding tight to the railing of the deck as I looked over the town.
Dagmar was a coastal town that reminded me much of Thornwell, with mostly wooden buildings scattered over the grasses beside its harbor. The structures were all three stories or less. Small fishing boats were sprinkled through the shallow waters, many of them departing from the docks in preparation for fishing in the upcoming rain. I knew in my heart that the small town would be destroyed in our attack of Glacia. It was too close to the shore, and its buildings were vulnerable so close to the ground.
The small fishing boats traveling out of the inlet slowed as they caught sight of the approaching Eteri navy. Shouts of panic flew through the air, and some of the boats started to turn back.
I grabbed the war horn from my belt and lifted it to my lips. As I blew through it, a breeze rustled past my face, pulling my hood off and releasing my red hair into its current.
HUUURRRNNNNN!
“Kai Sera!” It was a screech of panic that came from a fishing vessel traveling south along the outer coast just north of the inlet. Only two men were on it, and they frantically pulled oars through the waters to hurry past us and escape.
I turned to the Eteri soldiers manning the warship's sails. “Stop the ship!” As they did so, I called out to the fishing boat. “You there! Come closer. I have a message.”
The two men exchanged glances. They watched as our warship came to a stop in the ocean. No magic was thrown their way, so they cautiously decided to trust me long enough to row closer. Both men were human, and one was a few decades older than the other. They both looked upon me and the navy with fear.
“We have supplies,” the older man called nervously. “We can give you whatever you want. Please, don't attack our home.”
My heart ached with his pleas. I wondered what kinds of lies had been spreading of me. “I want nothing from you,” I called back, lowering my voice as they rowed within the shadow of the ship. “Quite the contrary.”
“You are Kai Sera,” the other man said, his voice jumping with nerves.
“I am. And despite what you may have heard of me, I look to rule Chairel with regard to the people's needs.”
“You look to spread necromancy,” one of them replied.
“Among other things. Life magic among them.” When I said this, the two men glanced at each other again. “Listen to me very carefully,” I finally called. “Dagmar and Thornwell are in danger. Sometime over the course of the next half-year or so, the Servis will rise greatly. Both towns will be underwater. You need to leave the coast and warn Thornwell if you can. I want as many of the people safe as possible.”
The older man asked, “What is going to happen?”
“I cannot say for fear of giving Chairel's military access to me and my plans,” I replied honestly. “All you need to know is that all of you will be killed if you stay, and I don't want that to happen. Row closer. I have things for you.”
I scrounged around in my satchel as they did so, pulling out two objects. The men watched me curiously as I tossed them down into their boat.
“Gods, this is...” the younger man opened up a coin purse I'd tossed him.
“Five hundred gold,” I replied. “Use it to help you rebuild. The ruined village of French in the northeast sat upon a gem mine. Perhaps you could build there.”
“How do you...know this?” The older man questioned, his brow furrowed. “French only produced lumber.”
“The gem mine was found shortly before its destruction,” I replied. “A good friend of mine was from French and told me of this. A friend who lost his life in the Battle of the Dead. Lived here in Dagmar for a number of years.”
“Who?”
“Theron Boa,” I replied.
The older man looked at the younger man and nodded. “I knew Theron. Ran around with Fergal's daughter for a while.”
“Isa,” I said. The older man glanced up at me. His gaze softened as he came to realize my honesty.
“What is this?” The younger man lifted up the small book I'd thrown him.
“I have done my best to write down all of the life spells I know and describe their use and pronunciation,” I explained. “Use these spells with my promise that more like this will come if I take Chairel. And be careful with using them in public, friends. If Sirius's men find out about this, you could be imprisoned or worse.”
The young man held the small book to his chest as if protecting it. His eyes humbled as he said, “Thank you.”
I smiled warmly at him. That one look of gratitude would stick with me for life. “You're welcome. Now go. Protect your people. Hire a mercenary to ride to Thornwell as quickly as possible if you need to. In half a year, both towns will be overrun. Half a year,” I emphasized.
The men nodded, before rowing off to return to the shore. By now, all manner of civilians were standing in groups along the coast, eager to see both the ruckus and the woman they'd heard so much about. I mentally wished them all success and luck. As our warship began to sail once more, I pointed east, further encouraging the people to listen to my pleas.
“Do those people know you are a god?” Bhaskar's voice pulled my attention to my right, where he'd walked up to be beside me.
“Not unless Chairel has allowed rumors of me from events in Nahara to travel north,” I replied. When Bhaskar said nothing else, I questioned, “Why?”
“Those two men looked up to you like one by the end of that conversation. You have a way with people, Kai.” Though Bhaskar didn't admit it, I could sense envy along the edges of his voice once more.
“Do I?” I hesitated, reaching over to tap on the god's golden armor. “I gave them five hundred gold, Bhaskar. If someone gave me that much gold, I'd love them, too.”
The god chuckled at my joke. I continued to watch Dagmar until we were out of sight of it, and the moody skies finally released pent-up rains over our navy. I had done all I could to keep the civilians safe. I could only trust they would do the right thing with the information I'd handed them.
The Eteri navy continued north. Our next stop was to pick up Altan and his navy in Makani. Then, finally, we would prepare for the culmination of the past few years of war and heartache: Glacia.
Forty-one
82nd of High Star, 423
HUUURRRNNNNN!
The war horn roused me from sleep. Despite my fatigue, I immediately knew the time had come. During the downtime of our navy's long trek up the eastern coast of Eteri, the Sentinels and I had discussed our plans. I'd told them of Glacia's layout that remained in my mind from Cicero's memories. If the memories were correct, there was a great inlet on the western side of the continent which led to the giant glacier's center. The plan was for our ship to travel through the channel as far as we were able before disembarking and moving to the center of Glacia on foot. Meanwhile, the navies of Altan and Uriel would defend us from the coast. Zephyr's ship would be coming with us to secure the inlet while we went forth to find Vertun and the perfect place to assault with the sun. To keep as many of us as safe as possible, we were
to leave Bhaskar to use his spell while returning to the ships. The god had a war horn and was to use it before acting. It would then be up to us to continue the signal down the line so our navy would know the right time to protect both their ships and their eyes. We hoped the other navies would be safe enough while at the far edges of the continent, but we couldn't be sure. It was possible this mission would remove both Glacia and Eteri from this war. There would simply be no way to know until we were victorious or all dead by the heat of the sun.
For now, anxiety rippled through my gut. When I'd fallen asleep the night before, our navies were preparing to pass by the two tiny islands which sat above the northern coast of Eteri. We'd planned to move around the country until Esen was in our sights. After all, we weren't sure when the Icilic reinforcements would be attacking, and only Kirek's army of ten thousand would be in the cup of Eteri. If they'd timed their attack just right, the second wave of Icilic could already be in Eteri. Either that, or we would come across them on the seas. Evidently, one of those two things had happened.
All of the soldiers that had been sleeping on our deck were hurrying into their respective armor. Flashes of yellow, black, and white rippled through the quarters. Maggie tied her dreadlocks back from her face with a rope, and Azazel started stringing his bow.
“Little early for a fight, innit?” Maggie commented, lifting her heavy weapon from the floor.
“Or maybe too late,” I replied, “depending.”
Azazel had just woken up, but already his face beaded with sweat. High Star near northern Eteri was not nearly as hot as it was elsewhere in the world, but it was stuffier below deck of the ship, and his Alderi skin would forever be sensitive to heat. I reached out to him, water building in a palm. He lifted both hands out together, and I let the water fall into them. After he splashed his face, he murmured with relief, “Thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
“There's another war horn blowing in the south,” the archer informed us, pulling his hood above his head. “Unless one of the Sentinels disembarked during the night, Kirek is fighting.”
“Give me some good news,” I muttered dryly.
“You are surrounded by capable people,” Azazel replied helpfully.
I patted my friend on the back, appreciative of his answer. “That I am.”
We headed up to the deck. As soldiers around me chattered with the anticipation of battle and manned the sails, my eyes surveyed the scene. Our navies approached Esen from the east, the northern curl of Eteri stretched out to our left. The town I'd once visited held the signs of having been ransacked. The Icilic had claimed the village for themselves, but evidence of conflict was still prevalent. Some of the stone homes were scorched from fire. Much of the earth had been risen and overturned by earth mages. One or two of the buildings were even collapsed, and I could only guess as to how it had happened. Decomposing corpses of Eteri soldiers and griffons alike had been pulled into a large area alongside the farthest reaches of the Cleves, overshadowed by the cliffs as the sun rose above them in the east. The Icilic had ensured the corpses were far enough away from the annexed town that they wouldn't have to be inconvenienced by the stench, but close enough that they could call them to attention with necromancy if they so desired.
Esen had been taken over a year ago, so the corpses were little more than dried gray skin stretched over bone. While the Icilic had looted the bodies and picked them over, many of them still wore the armor they'd died in. My eye caught on one particular corpse tossed atop the pile. It was headless, and it wore the same black and yellow Sentinel armor I was so used to seeing. The few memories I had of Naolin clashed violently with what little was left of her corpse, tiny and colorless.
Esen was overpopulated with our foes. Not only had many of them stayed in the town to rebuild it under their own authority, but the soldiers that had fled from the Battle of Highland Pass were probably here. In addition, as evidenced by the warships dotting the waters from the coast to the north, the Icilic were in the midst of delivering their reinforcements.
It was a beautiful day for battle. The air was crisp with the last remnants of morning, and a breeze blew toward our ships from the east, speeding up our arrival. The skies were pure blue with nary a cloud in sight, and the full sun of High Star shone over our destination from rising behind our backs. Ocean waters were calm, as if oblivious to future events. Esen's surrounding grasslands flickered in waves of bright green as the winds coaxed them to the west.
And in the middle of it all, thousands of Icilic mages cluttered the land like a horde, shimmering faces turning to watch our navies approach. Since picking up Altan, our fleet had grown to precisely fifty ships with fifteen thousand men spread between them. Such a large navy was undoubtedly a frightening sight to those who hadn't expected us. Because the breeze traveled from us and toward them, I couldn't hear the Icilic screaming, but I could see their panic. Our arrival was a surprise, and that was in our favor.
Uriel's navy was closest to the coast, and the healer's ship was surrounded by both an alteration shield and a physical life shield as it traveled ever closer to battle. The blue directive flag of the vessel lowered down its mast before a red one replaced it. I heard the healer use his war horn, and Altan responded from the next navy. All at once, the ships behind the two leaders spread out their positions in the waters, each of the galleons preparing shields.
“Cyrus,” I breathed, watching as a group of Icilic began to hastily board one of Eteri's own stolen warships from the land, “land or sea?”
Cyrus's blue eyes traveled over the waters. My question was vague, but the other general knew what I'd meant. There was a vast army of foes on land, but the Icilic warships had been delivering their reinforcements from a line stretching between Eteri and Glacia. From the looks of it, we'd arrived after the majority of them had already landed. Warships lined the northern coast of Esen, but a half dozen of them were still coming. Many of them appeared to change course after seeing our arrival.
“Sea,” Cyrus replied, “then land.”
I understood. I turned to the soldiers manning the sails, one finger pointing to the nearest Icilic warship. “Red flag! Intercept!”
The soldiers followed my order, raising the attack directive and pulling our ship to face northwest. Behind us, eleven galleons under our command loosened their line and were soon surrounded by glistening orbs of magic.
As Naolin had once told us, the Icilic had come up with their own unique design for their warships. Perhaps they'd taken notes from the dwarves because the vessels were bulkier than the Eteri galleons. The wood of the ships had been imported to Glacia from Chairel, the dark timber reminiscent of the pines of the Seran Forest. Sails were made out of thick animal skins and varied in color from cream to dark tan. Each ship had its own figurehead in the form of a unique creature skull. I did not recognize many of the beasts from just the heads, but as I had surmised by the Icilic's love of massive weapons, the size of the bones proved the wildlife of Glacia was intimidating. One of the skulls was the size of a dinner table and generally round, with four separate sockets for eyes and sharp fangs which were still attached to the jawbones.
Whistling echoed through the breeze to my left, where Altan was raining fire over an approaching warship. A ship under his command followed his lead, engaging one of the stolen Eteri ships which had come to the aid of our foes after boarding in Esen. Both vessels had magical protections as the Icilic used Maggie's systems for their own gain. As both sides went to work whittling down shields with magic and ranged weapons alike, the allied soldiers prepared grappling hooks, hoping to board and fight enemies up close.
Uriel's ship was in the midst of a deck brawl, and I caught sight of him in melee combat with an Icilic mage whose strength matched his own. Uriel wielded his beautiful spear against the other man's glaive, and when our friend whittled down the life magic keeping his foe safe, it was only regenerated. Cyrus and I watched Uriel battle for a few moments before the distanc
e put between us was too great.
“He will be fine,” I said since Cyrus was quiet.
“The sooner we deal with these stragglers, the sooner we can fight alongside the others,” the Sentinel replied, his gaze on the approaching Icilic warship.
One of our mages had already given our ship an alteration shield, so I quickly generated another with life magic to protect against projectiles. Many of the Icilic on the enemy ship already had personal shields. As our two warships started to align, multiple spells were thrown in our direction. Lightning fanned out over the alteration shield before being absorbed. Ice shards shattered into tiny pieces before melting into its energy. Leeching funnels only took power from their casters and gave it to us. The mages on board the other ship looked desperately confused. The magic of the Alderi was foreign to them. The isolation of the Icilic was a massive benefit to us.
The energy within the shield of our ship vibrated so intensely from the short exchange that the hairs of my forearms raised from coming into contact with its static. I built enervat between both palms, and a handful of Icilic fell at the edge of the deck in an explosion of black as our ships were tugged together with grappling hooks. The mages that did not fall were left regenerating their wards, but my eyes settled on the one woman within the hit of my spell who had been without a ward and was still unaffected.
Necromancer.
“Cerin,” I murmured, as the two decks drew closer.
“I see her,” my lover replied, holding his scythe with both hands. He had also used the ranged death spell, but we were now too close to risk it. Both of us trembled with leeching highs. With only a few feet left between the ships, we were the first to jump over.
Cerin immediately swung his scythe in a mighty arc toward the necromancer's throat. Given she was powerful enough to have survived my spell, I didn't think she would fall right away, and she didn't. The scythe sunk half an inch into the side of her neck, and my lover jerked the blade back from the hit as two funnels of black attempted to leech his life. Another woman wielding a two-handed sword clashed it into the back of Cerin's shield, causing the life magic to flicker.
