Born of the Phoenix

by Forrester, David Murray

  “Truly Delrawk you are credit to the order of Hassanfore, coming unheralded to my door as if the gods had sent you in answer to this abominable wickedness, you my friend may well be the greatest wizard of our time.”

  He couldn’t help but allow himself a light chuckle. “A great wizard perhaps, but not the greatest,” he took another deep puff of his pipe, the timing had been fortuitous, it appeared to him that it was indeed his fate to hunt down this witch and put a stop to her murderous carnage.

  “There is one crucial requisite that is of utter importance in this matter, you must bring me the witch alive so that I can discover from her which of the dark gods she serves so that I can ward this land from its evil.” he was confident Delrawk could achieve this. If Akella too was an arcane knight then she would probably be nothing more than a brawler just as her sister is, an easy victory for a wizard of Delrawks standing. If she tried to tell the truth that in fact she wasn’t a witch at all Delrawk would not believe her, Osrown knew his trust to be absolute, just as his loyalty was, he would take her words as nothing more than witches lies, for witches after all were branded as notorious liars.

  “I will capture this witch for you, but first I must rest, I travelled long through the night,” the fatigue was showing in his shoulders.

  “I will have a room and bath prepared for you,” Osrown signalled once again for the young acolyte, “anything you need for you journey just ask, I will have my men restock all your supplies,”

  “I needn’t require many things,” his eyes showed concern not for himself, but for Osrown, “do not let this witch play upon your mind any longer my friend, I will take care of this for you.”

  “Be safe.”

  “Always,” Delrawk gave Osrown a comforting pat on the back, and with that, took his leave.

  The greatest wizard of our time, more like the greatest fool. Osrown let out a snort of derision as he poured himself another glass of brandy. Delrawk was always so easy to manipulate. His good nature and kind heart had a constant yearning to perform great deeds of valour in the service of men. Soon Osrown would have three fire birds to torture and play with before devouring their souls. The anticipation of such a delicious meal was a divine torture.

  Chapter 15

  Wind tussled Akella’s hair as she stood on a rocky precipice overlooking the valley of the fallen. The road behind her was busy with travellers, many men slowed to admire Akella’s enchanting beauty as they passed by though several others who upon seeing her colossal sword scorned her, muttering cruel japes to their friends for they harboured a fierce prejudice against female warriors.

  A stunning waterfall bellowed from the cliff face feeding a narrow river which winded its way through the lusciously green paradise. Alive with colour the valley was home to an exotic assortment of magnificent trees, wild flowers and rare herbs.

  Eons ago the valley was used as a place to bury the honoured dead. Enchanting mausoleums and tombs were constructed to house the remains of great heroes and kings. During the gorigarni wars the valley was forsaken, dark entities descended upon the tombs transforming this place of wonder and reverence into a perilous locus of haunting ruins until Veronica Embrosia, the first larrosan queen bought light once again to banish the darkness, casting out the evil denizens with the help of powerful mages.

  For centuries the larrosan people flourished within the beautiful valley, building the tower of Analetta which is still considered one of the great wonders of Sapphiron. Countless travellers ventured into the valley for the larrosan’s were famous for their knowledge of herbology and healing. They were a utopian society rich with craftsmen, inventors, clairvoyants and talented bards. Once the reign of the kings began however, the peaceful society fell into violent ruin. The Valomere colosseum was erected and with it came a new age of brutality, gambling, deception and murder. Honour was traded for wealth, larrosan pride forgotten. Travellers only came to the valley now for violence, debauchery, hallucinogens and the hope of striking it rich winning coins betting in the colosseum.

  It was a treacherous journey down the steep zig zagging trail, slow too, for merchants with donkeys and carts often blocked the narrow passages forcing the travellers to plod along behind. Akella didn’t mind the pace, for the view was simply breath taking. The pebble laden road through the valley offered its own charms; an inspiring tour of a marvellous and wondrous landscape. Akella remained in awe of the valley until reaching Lorewell, for the city was in an appalling state of dilapidation and ruin. The masonry, once a marvel of architectural brilliance was chipped and crumbling in decay. Flower beds housed dying plants, grey and dreary they were a depressing sight. There was no splendour to be found.

  The citizens were free thinking and outspoken, rough around the edges but polite enough in their own manner. A proud people; their attire was significantly different from what Akella had become accustomed to in other parts of Sapphiron. They dressed themselves with a unique creative flare and a stylised use of accessories.

  Built of grey stone and decorated with hideous gargoyles the Valomere colosseum was an intimidating structure of immense size. Thousands of lives had suffered a gruesome end in the blood soaked arena, it was rumoured that many lost souls lingered haunting the passageways and chambers of the deep catacombs below; their eerie cries echoing from the depths in the midnight hours.

  As Akella ascended one of the broad staircases leading into the colosseum she was greeted by the fierce cries of the roaring crowd within. It must be an amazing fight mused Akella, for the roars were deafening. The day’s journey had bestowed upon her a ravenous hunger for roasted meat and whiskey, but before she could satisfy her hunger she walked to the edge of the arena to satisfy her curiosity of what fight could provoke such a thunderous response from so many people.

  Her empathy swelled greater than a monsoon as her heart broke into a thousand pieces.

  Shackled by iron chains in the centre of the arena was a mighty black bear. Blood gushed from horrific wounds on its body; its eyes were oceans of pain and fear. Three powerful war hounds circled the trembling beast attacking in turn with savage ferocity. The bear struggled against the onslaught, for both its fangs and claws had been barbarously removed by some cruel heartless fiend ensuring the bears inability to defend itself. The crowd roared in delight as the hounds brutally tore at the bear.

  Time seemed to stop for Akella as her thoughts tried to fathom how humans could act so insanely sadistic and abominable. The visage of pleasure on the people’s faces as they cheered and whistled left her in complete shock. She no longer saw them as humans, but as hallow entities in human form completely lacking morality, the core essence that bestowed light upon a person’s soul. She now understood why Dennon had spat at her feet in disgust when she said she was going to the colosseum in Lorewell, which meant this atrocity was known throughout the land, but why then had it not been ended. Truly Sapphiron had suffered the end of heroes, humanity was in moral decline. With the heroes gone who then could restore virtue to the land.

  White knuckled she unleashed Sunderfall and leapt over the railing dropping twenty feet onto the sandy floor of the arena. The war hounds immediately sensing her presence turned snarling to face her, drool and blood dripping from their ravenous jaws. The largest of the hounds unleashed a terrifying howl as the other two coursed towards her, churning the sand with their heavy footfalls. Akella held no malice towards the war hounds, she pitied them for she knew their temperament had been forged by those who had reared them; this was the life they knew, violent and brutal as it was. She granted them quick deaths, Sunderfall effortlessly removing the heads from their bodies. The third hound was of monstrous size; layered in muscle it was a creature bred for slaughter. Akella stood her ground before it, stoic and unyielding. Growling the frightening beast leapt only to find itself impaled on the black greatsword.

  The crowd was on their feet in uproar shouting all manner of hateful obscenities and hurling rubbish into the arena. Akella cared not. Ignor
ing them all she rushed to the bear who lay maimed and bleeding. Such gratitude shone in its deep eyes, gripped with pain the bear was unable to move. Akella couldn’t allow the bear to suffer an agonising death as it slowly bled out, and so, pierced Sunderfall through its heart. Her eyes were glassy with tears as she fell into the bear gripping its soft fur in fierce embrace, emotions consumed in torment.

  As a tide hordes of frenzied men began streaming over the rail to attack Akella for her trespassing. How dare a warrior enter the arena and kill the honoured war hounds, it was unheard of in the history of the colosseum. There was no strength in the physical appearance of the Larrosan men yet their eyes mirrored a soul of immense remorseless savagery. Great iron gates within the arena were swung open as gladiators poured out of the barracks, fully armoured and brandishing weapons of pain and death ready to dish out a harsh retribution for this violation of their sacred ground.

  Slowly rising from the bear Akella’s soul burned with vengeance. She saw the waves of opponents bearing down upon her not as humans, but as abhorrent vessels. Disgusting creatures that needed to be abolished before their filth spread infecting other lands. Even as their numbers swelled and she found herself surrounded they were nothing but blade fodder; for Akella was indomitable.

  From the royal balcony King Pradosse watched in fury as the fallen bodies of his people began piling up around this mysterious invader. It started with a dozen, then it was forty, a hundred, two hundred. Wielding such an immense blade he was expecting her to tire, waiting for fatigue to set in so he could watch her be decimated by his gladiators; but it was not so. Not even his mightiest warriors could stand against her, their bodies torn apart by her greatsword. She was too fast, too skilled and too powerful; in all his long years ruling the colosseum he had never beheld a warrior of her calibre.

  “Let me kill her.” the warlocks eyes narrowed, finally a warrior had arrived that would give him half a challenge before crumbling under the might of his powerful magic. White veins pulsating along his black skin, the reptilian beast curled his fingers around the hilt of his staff.

  The king turned and regarded Horrasu with a sly grin. He relished watching the warlock fight and unleash his terrible magic, such a violent, gruesome and creative killer as he was. “Crush her.”

  A deafening horn was blown which shook the very foundations of the colosseum. The gladiators, men and all patrons turned their full attention to the king’s balcony. Akella, coated in the blood of the slaughtered stood atop a mound of broken corpses. Lowering Sunderfall she too starred up at the balcony. Draped in regal attire King Pradosse stood to address his people.

  “A scourge has befallen us! The insolence of this black haired witch will not go unanswered! She who comes with hateful wrath to spit on our traditions with her devilry, punishment has come! Behold your champion, Horrasu!”

  The crowd roared in triumph and chanted his name as Horrasu strutted from the darkness of the arena tunnels. Standing over eight feet tall with a body sculpted in muscle the reptilian warlock towered over his female adversary. Akella could sense the strong magical aura surrounding him. Wizardry was not her forte, she knew not the type of magic this reptilian warlock harnessed, only that it was immensely powerful.

  “Your death will be agonising,” he circled Akella reading her essence, sizing her up.

  “I don’t know how long you’ve been mutilating and torturing animals for your demented enjoyment but it ends now, with your death, your kings and the genocide of your people,” her words venomous and full of hate.

  “To think a hapless warrior such as yourself thinks she has the strength to end the kings reign, pathetic!” his staff, a simple wooden shaft became infused with magical energy that danced menacingly upon its surface, “I can sense that your blade is cursed but other than that you have no power, none that can match mine. You may have been able to kill all these pawns but against me you are nothing!”

  There was an eruption of magic as the weapons clashed. While Akella was preoccupied deflecting the staffs attack Horrasu conjured a sphere bursting with destructive power an unleashed it upon her. The magical explosion tore deep lacerations in her skin as the force from the blast threw her bleeding body across the arena. It was her first wound and the crowd roared in delight.

  Horrasu’s attacks were unrelenting, infused with magic they were dreadfully powerful. Akella remained in the pocket absorbing horrific amounts of punishment as she unleashed savage attacks of her own. Horrasu’s magic infallible, Akella indomitable, the battle a test of ultimate might and fortitude.

  Realising she was unable to break Horrasu’s magical supremacy Akella increased the speed of her attacks denying the warlock time to conjure his spells. Sunderfall was a blur to Horrasu and only by sheer desperation was he able to barely survive the brutal onslaught; with his strength waning the overbearing weight of defeat was upon him. Sensing his trepidation Akella surged forward for the killing blow.

  Leaping into the air Horrasu narrowly evaded Sunderfall’s keen edge. He was done with this warrior. It was time to show her the true awesomeness of his power and conjured a spell of such magnitude that once unleashed the destructive force of its eruption congested the colosseum with burning sand from the arenas floor; blinded by the haze none could see.

  The dust had not yet fully settled but again the crowd roared in triumph believing nothing could survive the destruction of Horrasu’s frightening magic. The warlock raised his staff in victory as the bellowing of his name resonated within the arena. King Pradosse pleased with his champion began to clap but a harsh silence fell when the dust had finally cleared. Standing in a circle of newly formed and still smouldering glass was Akella, the emerald in her circlet shining brightly. She bore down upon the warlock, his mana spent, the magical staff shattered under the mighty force of Sunderfall’s blade. Akella’s final attack was ruthless and to the horror of the crowd Horrasu’s body was torn apart.

  Her retribution for the cruelty of the bear’s death had only just begun. The king’s balcony was fifty foot above her. The phoenix blood coursing through her veins allowed her to leap effortlessly to that height, and she stood a haunting silhouette before the king, Horrasu’s blood dripping from Sunderfall.

  “Guards kill her!” he roared, and his loyal subjects obeyed rushing foolishly to their brutal deaths.

  A jewel encrusted sword hung at the king’s hip, he unsheathed it, the polished blade glistening with elegance. “I am a king! How dare you face me!” Pradosse came at her with the sword; it was an ornament more than it was a weapon and shattered upon contact with Sunderfall.

  “You are the most abhorrent king I have had the displeasure of meeting,” she kicked him to the ground, his golden crown bouncing across the floor. “Know now upon your death that I will ravage your valley, that your cruelty shall never be repeated and I curse you to wander lost and never know peace in death!”

  The runes upon Sunderfall became alive with a glowing light as she pierced the blade through the kings body and deep into the stone of the colosseum. The cursed sorcery within the blade surged into the very heart of Valomere’s foundations which began to shatter and crumble as the true malice of the blade was unleashed. Akella fled the destruction utilising her extreme agility to navigate her way safely through the collapsing structure. Hundreds perished, crushed by falling pillars and stone, their dying screams drowned out by the thunderous crashing of the colosseums demise.

  The shockingly disturbing cruelty of the people had not yet abated from her mind. The image of the bear would be burned forever in her memory. Akella’s emotions raged as an inferno in her broken heart which hungered fiercely for reprisal and justice. With the utter destruction of the colosseum her sights now turned to the tower of Analetta.

  Lorewell was in chaos. Streets were consumed in ash and smoke. The people fraught with dread fled for their lives fearing that the apocalypse had come for them.

  Analetta resembled nothing of Valomere for it was built in an age l
ong past. It was an astonishingly beautiful tower of absolute magnificence. Deciduous vines that had remained grey and had not flourished for countless years covered the sides of the tower between the marvellously carved stone windows. Elegant balconies and terraces had been masterfully crafted upon it. Akella gripped Sunderfall tightly, Analetta would fall and she would drive the larrosan people from the valley.

  As she drove the blade forwards there was an explosion of light as Sunderfall was cast aside, deflected by another sword.

  “I will not allow you do destroy Analetta,” there was fierceness in Zoe’s eyes as she pushed Akella back.

  “Don’t stand in my way, this civilisation is ended!”

  “The heart of Lorewell was ended and bastardised long ago, Analetta is a relic from an age of wonder, a gem, and so it shall be again,”

  “How can you defend the larrosan when-“

  “These people are not true larrosans!” There was fierce emotion in Zoe’s voice, “They are vile shadows who conquered this land with betrayal and deceit. The valley of the fallen has an ancient and sordid history of which you are unaware but have now become a part of,” Zoe hoped Akella’s rage was not preventing her from seeing the reason in her words; an angered mind cannot ruminate with clarity. “The tower must remain for the return of the larrosan Queen, only she can purify this land and restore its forgotten beauty.”

  Akella’s shoulders slunk as Zoe’s words resonated within her mind but the cruelty she had witnessed was too heinous for her anger to subside so easily. Not true larrosans, what did it matter? They all deserved death.

  Their swords clashed a second time. There was so much power behind Akella’s attack that Zoe was sent sprawling a hundred feet; she had not anticipated Akella to possess such intense strength. She needed to quell Akella’s fury or Analetta would fall.