by Brandon Chen
Ares took a fighting stance, both of his hands wrapped tightly around the handle of his spear as he pointed the golden tip straight at Ahriman. He dug both of his feet into the ground, his heart beginning to beat faster. He shot a glance to Mithra, who had his eyes closed. But he was still breathing. At least Ahriman didn’t kill him. “That power that you wield is not meant to be abused, Ahriman. Why do you think the gods locked it away? Does it even matter if you defeat both Mithra and I today? Tomorrow Heaven will send down more gods that will seek your execution. No one wants a rogue deity roaming the planet freely.”
“You’re right,” Ahriman said with a smile. “The other gods will see me as a threat after I kill the two of you. But by murdering two gods of war I am setting an example. Anyone, even gods, who crosses me will be doomed to perish. No matter how strong they are, no matter how many enemies are before me, I will lay them all to waste. My power is unlimited.” He held out his quivering hand before his eyes, which glowed with dark-purple arcane energy. The god held out his palm and the magic was expelled in the form of a bolt that rocketed through the air towards Ares, causing the air to shimmer with glittering purple light.
Ares rolled out of the way, the bolt of magic shattering the earth beside him. Dirt geysered upward into the air and rained down, splattering on the grass. The god of war spun his spear and then jammed it into the ground, cracking his knuckles.
Ahriman observed the god, unsure of what the boy was doing. Suddenly Ares’ clothing began to glitter brightly, as if it were made of the stars that filled the sky at night. The Persian god glanced away, unable to look directly at Ares’ flashing attire. When the evanescent glow faded away, Ahriman turned to find that Ares was now clad in perfectly fitted golden armor with rubies embedded all over it. Flames danced on his spiked pauldrons, flickering and snapping. Giant gauntlets were clamped over his hands, and his plated armor glinted in the sunlight. “I’m glad that you’re taking this seriously, infamous Guardian of the Lost Sands. But note that your impressive armor will not protect you from my magic. No matter how impenetrable you claim it is, I’ll tear straight through it.”
Ares snatched his spear out of the ground, whirling it in his hands. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He burst forward with a surge of speed, cracking the earth beneath his feet as he appeared right in front of Ahriman. The god of war gripped his spear tightly and jabbed outward with a fast and fluent motion, stabbing his weapon through the air straight for Ahriman’s face.
But the lord of darkness tilted his side with perfect reaction, the tip of the spear piercing the air inches from Ahriman’s cheek. The Magus swatted the spear away from his face and slammed his fist straight into Ares’ face. A spurt of blood streamed from the boy’s nose and Ahriman spun around and drove a solid back-kick into the young god’s stomach. The blow sank, releasing a burst of energy straight into Ares’ diaphragm. The god of war was launched backwards, rolling into the ground with smoldering smoke rising from his golden armor.
Ares landed hard on his back, gasping for breath and coughing the dust from his lungs. The world was spinning and he gripped his roiling, aching stomach. He was surprised; the ancient armor of Ares should’ve been able to withstand blows even from other gods. But he could still feel the agonizing pain from Ahriman’s strike. Slowly leaning forward, Ares winced. Inhuman reactions, incredible strength, and absolute control over magic … so this is what it’s like to fight another god.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Ahriman called with a wicked smile, sauntering forward towards Ares. “The fear. Oh, but you don’t even look scared, little boy. Dear prince Darien, perhaps I ought to make you feel true fear. Fear that will make you tremble and cry out for your lost parents. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” The Persian god snapped his fingers and suddenly a cloud of swirling black mist curled around his body and began to drift towards Ares. “I’ll bring you despair.”
Ares’ eyes widened as the dark fog swept outward and swallowed him, locking him in a world of swirling darkness. His heart was pounding and he gulped, his eyes darting around, as the fog began to construct a setting around him. Giant walls rose up to a grand ceiling and two thrones materialized before the young god. He soon realized that he was in his throne room, standing before his live parents. His father was sitting in his throne with perfect posture. He was expressionless as he looked at his son, Darien. Tapping the arm of his throne impatiently he sighed, as if disappointed. “How many times have I told you and Tetsu not to go on pestering Hassan, Darien?”
Darien stared at his father, tears pooling in his eyes. His hands were shaking at his side and his lips quivered. “D-Dad?” he choked out. “Is that really you?” He looked to his beautiful mother, who stood up from her chair.
“Darien? What’s wrong?” his mother asked, ready to run forward and give him a hug.
His father held up his hand, stopping the queen. She reluctantly sat back down in her throne. “You cannot baby him, my Queen. After all, he’ll be a man before you know it.” The old king of Persia turned his attention back to Darien. “It is okay to cry, my son. But you must know when the opportune time to cry is. Shedding tears can be seen as a sign of weakness. But it can also be a sign of compassion. It is not okay for you to be weak. But I will be proud of you if you are compassionate to others.”
Treat others with respect and with time they’ll come to respect you. In the future, when it is finally your time to become king, the people will greet your ascension to the throne with acceptance. Darien, I’m sure that you’ll be a great king. You just have to have more faith in yourself. His father’s words from many years ago echoed through his head.
Darien took a step forward, reaching outward. “Dad! I—” He never had the chance to finish his sentence. The scene exploded into a gigantic puff of black fog, swirling around the young prince. Darien watched as the darkness fabricated another setting and he was placed back in the throne room. On the thrones were his murdered father and mother. His mother was face-first on the floor with a pool of blood forming under her body. The crimson liquid trickled down the stairs that led to the throne and crawled slowly towards Darien’s feet.
The prince looked to his father, who was staring at Darien with widened eyes. His face was pale but he was alive, just barely. “Why didn’t you save us?” Why was the most useless member of the royal family chosen to survive on that day? The life faded from his father’s eyes and the king’s body went limp in his golden throne, his arm swaying loosely at his side.
Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want to make them pay for your parents’ deaths? You aren’t even the slightest bit furious with what happened five years ago? Tetsu’s words, from their reunion in Yuusus, rebounded off of the walls of the throne room, echoing in Darien’s ears. Revenge.
Darien’s hands trembled at his side, burning rage coursing through his veins. He glanced up and stared at the corpses of his parents. They’re dead. They’re gone forever … and I didn’t do anything about it. I was powerless then. But right now I have the power to make anything that I want happen!
The old Ares was standing behind Darien with a sly smile spreading across his black lips. His long, messy hair came down over his face and his wild orange eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed at the Persian prince’s back. “So what do you want to do?”
“I want justice,” Darien growled, still staring at his parents’ corpses.
“How can you achieve justice? How can you avenge your parents? There is only one way. Murder the ones responsible for your misery.”
Darien grinded his teeth, rage usurping his mind. Every other thought besides hatred was cast aside and he shook with fury, ready to unleash his wrath upon the world. He was frustrated. Frustrated that he hadn’t done anything to avenge his parents’ deaths. Frustrated that he had been powerless to do anything to prevent their assassination. Even now, as he faced Ahriman in reality he knew that he was too weak to defeat such an opponent on his own.
“You’re afraid of res
ponsibility and losing those that you love. But I know, Darien, the one fear that dominates above all others. The fear that haunts your mind with every day. Powerlessness. It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Ares said with a nefarious laugh. “You, one of the new gods of war is afraid of being too weak. Too weak to protect your friends. Too weak to uphold your responsibilities. Too weak to do anything but grovel in the sand at the mercy of your first real opponent, Ahriman.”
Darien felt tears streaming down his cheek, his head lowered.
“Too weak to avenge your parents’ deaths. I’m sure that they are watching from the Heavens and they are disappointed that you did nothing to account for their deaths. After all, I’m sure their souls cannot move on if their murderer is not brought to justice. There he is, right there in front of you,” Ares said, an image of Zahir materializing in front of Darien. “But you don’t have what it takes to bring about justice. You don’t have the strength. I do.”
Darien looked up, staring at Zahir, the tears in his eyes glistening. His gaze hardened and his nose crinkled as untamable hatred burned in his eyes.
Let me in. It’s over. I know what you want.
“Kill him,” Darien whispered, the colors of his irises morphing from sky-blue to a coruscating orange. An aura of bloodlust radiated around the young prince and his knuckles turned ghostly white as he clenched his fists. “I want Zahir dead for what he’s done.”
***
Yuu was panting as they raced through the silent city streets, advancing towards the castle. The ground rumbled like an earthquake, and the Magus knew that the shaking was coming from the castle. That was surely where Ares and Mithra were fighting Ahriman. Why were they heading in that direction? Surely Cambyses wasn’t anywhere near such a dangerous battle.
But where else could Cambyses be? The eastern half of Persepolis had been turned into a battleground, with Alkaios’s soldiers massacring the unprepared Persian warriors by the hundreds. Perhaps he was on the western side of Persepolis trying to escape with the rest of the civilians.
“There!” Tetsu shouted, pointing to the sky. “He’s on my carpet!”
Yuu glanced up to the afternoon sky and saw a flying carpet, with the Persian king sitting on it. Accompanying him were two other Magi, standing beside the lord, overlooking the city. They were flying west, eager to escape the city that was doomed to destruction.
Aleysha whipped out her shield, wincing as a chilling sensation bit through her arm. Her burn wounds were still hurting through her bandages. “I’ll take him straight out of the sky.”
“Don’t,” Yuu said, holding out his hand to stop the female mercenary. “Your power is very destructive and there are still civilians in the area. You could accidently take them out with collateral damage. Leave it to me.”
“How are you—”
Yuu rushed into an alleyway between two buildings, leaving Tetsu and Aleysha alone in the empty street. He leapt off of the ground, kicking off of one wall and leaping to the next. He continued to hop from wall to wall until he was high enough to lash out and grab the ledge of the rooftop. His arms cried out in aching pain as he hauled himself onto the roof, rolling onto the flat, sandy platform. The Magus held out both of his hands, the markings on his palms beginning to glow a chilling blue color. He rushed forward to the edge of the rooftop and aimed his hands at Cambyses. A gigantic spike of ice was suddenly conjured in front of him and it shot forward, ripping through the air in the direction of Cambyses and his carpet.
Both of the Magi on the carpet noticed the incoming projectile and turned to the flying icicle. A surge of purple lightning scintillated through the air, smashing into the massive icicle. The projectile smashed into a million pieces of sharp ice, floating in the air.
Cambyses turned his head, tilting it when he saw that the ice wasn’t falling as it should’ve.
Yuu relaxed his shoulders calmly and snapped his fingers. The pieces of ices shot forward faster than before, and now thousands of projectiles raced at Cambyses and his Magi. The two Magi released bolts of crackling lightning that pierced the air, attempting to destroy all of the incoming icicles, but there was no way they could stop it all.
One of the Magi leapt in front of Cambyses as the daggers of ice bit deep into his back. Blood soaked the mage’s clothing as his body went limp and he slid from the carpet, falling to the city below. Pieces of ice had torn through the carpet, forcing the Sacred Treasure to plummet to the ground as well.
“I’ve got him,” Yuu exclaimed, pointing towards the area where Cambyses’s carpet had fallen. “Let’s get—” He was about to finish but he saw that Aleysha and Tetsu were already racing through the streets towards Cambyses. The noble sighed and shrugged, leaping off the roof of his building to join his friends, to finally confront the king.
***
The world was a whirling blur and there was a terrible ringing in the king’s ears. Cambyses lay on the ground, his left arm completely shattered at his side. Tears were springing to his eyes, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such unbearable pain. It was like someone had taken a hammer and crushed every bone in his arm all at once. Beside him was his last Magus, who was barely conscious. The mage was on the ground, a bloody splotch on his forehead where he had cracked his skull.
The other Magus lay several hundred meters away, his corpse broken from the fall.
Cambyses reached into his robe, pulling out the Sands of Time with his free hand as he crawled backward, pressing his back to the wall of a building. His heart was racing, knowing that soon his enemies would be upon him. He grimaced, putting the Sands of Time down on his lap as he reached out and snatched a dagger from the belt of his unconscious Magus. Twirling the weapon in his hand, he put it in his mouth, clamping his teeth down on the hilt of the dagger. The king grasped his diamond hourglass once more and slowly staggered to his feet as he saw Tetsu and an unfamiliar girl sliding around the corner of the street. Tetsu, huh? You’re still alive.
Cambyses remembered how Yuu had been the one who was slashed in order to save Tetsu in the throne room five years ago. He recalled tossing Tetsu into the Lost Sands afterward. The bastard still survived and had the guts to come back to Persia. And even when Cambyses had sent thousands of Persian warriors and three Magi to ensure that Tetsu and his friends were executed, he still came out alive. The king bit harder into the hilt of his dagger, his nose crinkling as he glared at the Hayashi clansman. It must’ve taken dozens of miracles for this fool to still be standing. Cambyses raised his eyebrows when he saw that Tetsu was gushing blood from dozens of wounds all over his body. It was a wonder the mercenary hadn’t passed out from blood loss yet. Judging from the weary look in his eyes, he was already about to collapse.
Cambyses snorted. And you still have the audacity to come before me with those fatal wounds, Tetsu?
The king froze time using his ancient hourglass, darting forward past the unfamiliar female warrior towards Tetsu. He felt as if he were moving through layers of thick pudding, his movement becoming more restricted the longer he froze time. Finally reaching Tetsu, he swung his head to the side, slashing the blade of the dagger across the man’s chest. Fall like the weakling you are, plebeian.
Time reverted back to normal and Tetsu’s blood spilled onto the ground. The young man’s eyes were wide and he gasped tautly, falling to his knees before slamming hard into the dirt.
“Tetsu!” the girl screamed, rushing to his aid.
“Cambyses!” a familiar voice roared.
The king glanced up and saw that Yuu was descending upon him. The noble drove a heavy kick straight into his stomach, sending him rolling uncontrollably across the ground. Cambyses felt the Sands of Time slipping from his hands, and the dagger in his mouth flipped through the air and buried itself in the dirt several meters away. The king grunted, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His stomach spun like a churning maelstrom and he groaned, grasping his diaphragm, watching as Yuu stormed towards him.
“For f
ive years, I stood by you blindly thinking that you were just doing what you thought was right for the empire,” Yuu snarled, grabbing the king by the collar of his robe. “Even with this incredible power that Zahir offered me, I was still powerless before you. I never spoke out against your nefarious plan to dominate the rest of Dastia and expand Persia’s borders. I never saw through your insane plot to eradicate your brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. I was a fool to follow you, mindlessly fulfilling whatever excursion you set out for me without even questioning what I was doing. You told me that Darien murdered his own parents. You lied to me.”
The noble’s fist sank hard into Cambyses’s face, drawing out more pain as the king’s legs buckled and he crashed onto his back. The corners of his vision were blackening, and he sputtered blood onto the dark beard on his unrecognizable face. His nose was cracked to the side and his eyes were puffy and swollen, barely even cracked open. The king’s quivering hands went limp at his side, his bruised face pulsing as quickly as his heart was beating. Cambyses watched Yuu powerlessly, accepting his defeat, and waited for the man’s next move.
Yuu grabbed a handful of Cambyses’s hair and yanked hard, forcing the king onto his hands and knees like a dog. The Magus grabbed the king’s face and forced him to look at Tetsu’s unmoving body. “You’ve hurt my friends far too much, Cambyses!” Yuu growled, cracking his knee into Cambyses’s chin.
The king slammed onto his back once more, warm tears streaking down his cheeks. Memories of watching Tetsu, Darien, and Yuu play together around the castle flashed through his head. He remembered stopping them constantly from upsetting Hassan, the head royal chef. And now here he was, trying to murder the young boys that he had watched grow up over the years. “Just kill me…,” Cambyses choked out through his set of broken, bloodied teeth.
