Thamias spread his wings wide and beat once. He was going to soar into the sky and dive at full speed toward the capital. That was the fastest way. Thamias beat his wings more and more to gain thrust and ascend, cutting through the air. Ahna held on tight, moving her body like she would on a horse to match and follow the movement. She could not talk to him, but they were in perfect synchrony.
As they reached higher in the sky, she dared to look down at the land. She could see the forest to the south and the mountains to the north. This sight was breathtaking, but she did not have time to appreciate it. One day, she would, she promised. After all this was over, she would. Thamias soared through the clouds, Ahna clenching his crest. Now, all she saw was a sea of cotton white.
It did not take long before she heard the clashes of thunder. Dark clouds amassed ahead—they needed to dive now. Ahna stabilized herself, leaning on the dragon’s crest so she would not fall forward. Thamias dove through the clouds again, and now, beyond his golden neck, Ahna saw the whirling dome of eternal night. And she heard the screech that she still heard in her nightmares. She knew what it was and who it used to be. Holding on to the crest with her life, she knew that any mistake now would cost her dearly.
It was too hard to hold on. Thamias was diving too fast. In this moment where panic and determination clashed, Ahna saw her skin glow. That familiar radiance of the power she carried burst around her arms, so much that the closer they got to the dome, the brighter it seemed.
“Let me in,” the voice shouted. Its melody was no longer a ballad. It was a symphony.
“H-how?” Ahna said, struggling to speak.
The voice did not reply. Closer to the dome, Ahna realized the dome’s pull was what hauled them in, not Thamias’s speed. The dome had its own compelling force. They needed to control it so they would not be sucked in at full speed and crash land. Ahna’s light grew from her arms to her back. She felt like she was being crushed and freed at the same time. Her entire existence seemed unreal, as though she was caught between life and death. The dome’s energy was too much.
An idea struck her. She needed to crack the dome open.
She closed her eyes and focused on that torrent of energy she felt. She extended her arm, gathering the light at the palm of her hand. When it overflowed, the light spread and solidified in a crystalline blade of brilliance. Ahna had to scream. She thrust her arm forward as though she was throwing the heaviest of rocks. The blade pierced through the dome, forming a crack large enough for Thamias to slip in. Ahna saw the sparks of thousands of purplish flames scattered around the city before Thamias entered the dome.
* * *
Ahna scanned the city as fast as she could. It was in chaos. Explosions, flames, screams coming from all corners. She thought of touching ground, but there was one thing she needed to find first. One thing she needed to locate.
He was there. Thamias saw him too. In the darkness, he caught sight of the enemy from decades ago. The void dragon. The black fiend of funeral flames. But before he charged over and fought him, he needed to put Ahna down. She would manage the jump if he razed the floor. He just needed to get close enough to the ground. He glided over the main road, where he had enough room to spread his wing open to slow down.
No, Thamias, Ahna thought. She could not get on the ground now. She had to get close to the void dragon. But Thamias tipped over, and she lost balance. She was caught in a fall, tumbled down on the ground, and rolled until her back hit the side of the sidewalk. She grunted, panting. The light was gone when she managed to stand up again. Thamias soared and headed straight for the void dragon, who welcomed him with open claws.
Stunned, Ahna cocked her head left and right. She had to hurry. Her own satchel was gone, but she found Thamias’s a few feet away. She zigzagged through the dark streets, having to hold the walls here and there to catch her breath. The light returned as her vision cleared. Two white flames around her arms lit the path in front of her. She could hear a battle ahead. She could hear roars and screeches from the titans clashing in the sky above. A hand caught her by surprise. Claws pierced through her flesh. Ahna collapsed to her knees, facing a creature that stank like rotten flesh. A man with molten skin was holding her. More of himself kind appeared around her. Ahna did not hesitate. She released the light, blasting them out of existence.
That short moment had shaken her back to her senses. She picked up the pace fast and headed toward the battle. If there was a battle, that was definitely where Jules and Cayne would be.
And she was right. Ahna made it out of the streets onto the southwest road down the bridge. She could see flashes from weapons swung, hear screams of war. A battlefield stretched before her eyes. Ahna was suddenly blinded by the flare of a sword lighting the darkness. Her jaw dropped when she saw the wielder. Cayne. And she was turning undead creatures to ashes with it.
Ahna began fighting her way to the frontline. The light that streamed from her dug a path through the horde to where Cayne stood. Ahna whirled her arms, each time sending rings of light through the undead crowd. She had almost made it. She was already back with the living when a hand caught her arm. It gripped her wrist and held her back. Ahna was going to attack, but when she locked eyes with Luthan, everything crumbled.
She was here. Again. Ten years he had waited. Ten more years above the fifty that were already behind him. And here she was. But she looked at him like she wanted him to let her go.
“Meriel,” he managed to say, his voice silenced by the roars of battle.
Seeing him added to the relief she felt at seeing Cayne, but she was on a mission. And to be honest, she had no idea how to act. There were more important things to do than hug or kiss him. He let her go with sadness in his eyes.
“You’re back,” he said.
Ahna simply stared into his emerald eyes. She wanted to run and hide and stay here at the same time. “Luthan...” she murmured. “I’m back.” She wanted to smile but could not, so she plucked the talisman out of her leather cuirass and showed it. “This is how we stop the void dragon.”
Luthan looked at it and frowned. He recognized what it was, but he had so many questions. “A soul sigil? How did you—”
“It’s his soul.” Ahna had anticipated the question.
He wanted to ask so much more, but she was a woman on a mission, and there was no way she would stay here longer.
“What do you need?” he asked, recovering his stance.
Ahna looked to the sky, and Luthan looked with her. Others did too, and they realized why. Golden flashes invaded the sky as they crashed against the dark shadow of the fiend. The two dragons were battling. Only their roars could be heard.
“Holy shit!” a voice exclaimed. “Ahna?”
She turned around and was instantly crushed by Jules’s embrace.
“By the gods, you’re back!” Jules exclaimed. “What...do you...what?” He was so overwhelmed with relief he could not speak.
He and Luthan rushed through the troops toward the backline where they could brief each other. Ahna wanted to know everything that was going on.
“So, let’s see,” Jules began. “We were going to take the Castle of Gold when the dragon showed up. We’ve tried securing as many people as possible in the cathedral, where the undead can’t reach. Or as Luthan says...”
“Blessed grounds,” Luthan briefly explained, and Ahna nodded. She could have inferred that on her own.
“We’re fighting with blessed swords,” Jules added. “It’s working, but I don’t know for how long.”
Ahna shook her head like it did not make sense. “Why is he attacking the city?” The void dragon, the afterimage of what Cedric could have been, did not benefit at all from attacking Bravoure, no matter how crazed the undead were.
“I’m not sure,” Jules said. “But there’s a man on the main road that seems to control the undead. He was leading them.”
“A necromancer?”
Luthan gave her a nod. “Something like that… I
suspect it’s a lich.” Jules raised an eyebrow, so he proceeded to explain with as few words as he could. “Phorus Adal was a magic-user. A mysticist. I think the undead curse corrupted him, and he turned himself into a lich.”
Phorus Adal, that name rang a bell. Yes! Ahna remembered. The cultist Cayne had mentioned. But if he turned into a lich, destroying him would end his control, but it would not stop the void dragon. Nor would it rid the city of the night and the curse. For that, they needed to deal with the fiend himself.
In the sky, the two dragons battled each other in fierce and fury. Ahna could hear the roars, and it was getting too loud.
“I see your brother is here too,” Jules commented.
Ahna could not stop looking at the clash of titans unfolding. They whirled like dancing flames of gold and purple. It was almost beautiful.
“We need to find Phorus,” Ahna eventually said. “If he controls the void dragon, we need to give him a reason to make him land.”
She was about to go, but Luthan caught her arm. “Why would you want to do that?” His tone showed severe concern, as though her idea was deemed complete madness.
“I need to get close,” Ahna replied.
“Are you insane?”
“I’m really not.” She stared into his eyes.
Luthan could see the resolve that lit her purple glare. She was sure of herself like she had never been before. There was something else about her—a certain power. That peculiar glow radiated with more power than he himself could control. He would not dissuade her. There was no way he would succeed. And so, Luthan had better let his wife do what she was meant to do. Why she had gone to the Dwellunder and back.
The Arc of Light’s power gave her enough confidence that she would be able to face the void dragon. She just needed to get close. She looked over her shoulder. The battle behind them had ended, and Cayne was walking their way.
“Ahna, you’re back!” she said.
Ahna nodded. She flicked her chin at the weapon Cayne held. She wanted to ask about it, but she instantly recognized it when her gaze landed on it.
“The Royal Claymore?” she exclaimed more than asked. Her eyes bounced between the three. She wanted to ask them how they had found it. She herself had looked for it in the ruins of Orgna years ago, right after the battle, and had found nothing. But why it lit the whole battlefield that way was also a pressing question.
They could tell her all about it after the battle. She needed to move.
“Where did you say Phorus was?” she turned to Jules and asked.
“He was on his way to the Castle of Gold,” he replied.
She breathed in, letting it out slowly. It was time to move. “Let’s go find him.”
Cayne seemed hesitant. “Bravan soldiers are within castle walls. They’ll probably fight us.”
Ahna looked to the sky. “We have a golden dragon.”
“They have an undead dragon,” Jules retorted.
“Exactly,” Ahna said. If the lich controlled the dragon, it could make the beast land. She peered over her head, over the houses, at the castle in the distance. “They call him the Avatar because he is the reason for the undead curse. If he lands, I can free him.”
She was about to walk away when Luthan’s voice retained her. “You talk like you’re so sure. Like you know him.”
Pause. Ahna lowered her shoulders and voice. “Because I know him. And so does Jules.” She looked into Jules’s eyes, who walked past her. “I just need to get close to him, that’s all. Give Phorus a reason to summon him. Once the curse is lifted, we can deal with the lich.”
Ahna began to walk and secured the talisman at the same time. Jules walked next to her. Cayne and Luthan followed, and soon, Berius and the rest of the soldiers were trailing behind them. The Castle of Gold was just within reach, and the loud screeches and roars of two dragons at war echoed in the dome of eternal night.
19
Necropolis II
The void dragon charged down Thamias with sharp claws ready to pierce through his golden scales. As hard as Thamias fought, this one was just too powerful. Just like when he had faced this beast decades ago, it was stronger than he was. Thamias had never forgotten it. Its purplish flames blazed hotter than draconic fire, and the ooze of its scaleless skin burned like acid. Thamias crash landed on his back by the river, the tip of his wing drenched in the water. The fiend landed above him, claws piercing through his body. Thamias struggled against its grip in vain.
The creature arched its neck. A purple flare traveled up from its belly, and it disgorged a blast of funeral flames. Thamias felt himself burn. He riposted with his own fire but was muffled by the acid that trickled down his throat. It hurt more than it should have.
Victorious, for now, the void dragon opened its wings wide and took flight back into the black sky. Catching sight of a group of mere mortals running down the streets like panicked ants, it glided above them and launched its flames.
* * *
Ahna dashed to the side to dodge the rain of fire. Screams erupted behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the damage but was blinded by flashes of purple. The void dragon was gone now, but she still needed to run. They were so close. Jules rushed beside her, followed by Cayne. Berius too.
More undead creatures tried to attack. Sound and movement attracted them like moths to a flame. They would speed up and try to claw through whatever the source was. But they were still afraid of the light. Ahna’s light. The white flames of an old power surged from her body in an arc from one hand to the other. And with the Royal Claymore and Luthan’s fire, the creatures were quickly scorched to ashes. Still, so many bodies were scattered across the city. So many dead would rise again soon if they did not put a stop to the undead curse.
Luthan took a glance at Ahna as she ran. The light emanating from her body felt nothing like magic. Yet it felt powerful. He had no idea what it was, or where it came from, or how long she had possessed it, and he could not ask now. She was running. They were almost at the Castle of Gold when they caught sight of the Bastion down the main road. Far in the distance, the void dragon landed atop the fortress and blasted a circle of flames around it. Soldiers were fighting there, Wolves. Luthan and the others could hear their howls. The fiend soared again without looking at them. The golden dragon was nowhere to be seen.
Ahna could not afford to let her mind drift to Thamias. She could not bear to lose him either. She stopped her rush, her chest heaving. The pain on her side was like a blade piercing through her ribs. She pressed her hand against it as if that would make it better. Jules came to check on her.
“Are you alright? Ahnny, we need to move!” he said and shouted.
She gasped to catch her breath. She was about to respond when she saw, on the other side of the main road, flashes and explosions. She heard voices shouting, and a group of robed fighters stepped out of the shadows. They rushed to Luthan when they saw him.
“Archmage Hyehn,” one said quickly. A woman with wavy black hair and an elementalist’s robe.
Luthan marched toward her. “So, the Academy did join the fight,” he said in a cynical tone.
She did not acknowledge his obvious aggravation. “What’s going on?” she asked instead, straight to the point.
“You tell me first.”
She told them how the Academy had locked its gates once the Wolf Pack had made the first move on the Bastion. They had seen this coming and wanted no part in this. As usual, Luthan thought. Ten years he had tried to convince them to do something about the situation in Bravoure. Upon the arrival of the night, they realized something was awfully wrong. Some wanted to stay in the security of their enchanted walls, but not even imbued marble could protect them forever from the undead tide. These magi here had been the ones to take arms, head into the streets, and fight.
“We have civilians in the cathedral,” Cayne said. She had been listening too. “We fight with blessed swords, and it seems to do the trick.”
“We’
ve erected a protective barrier around the Academy,” the woman said. “But we don’t know how long it’ll be before they breach it.”
Ahna wanted to say something, but they were already looking at her like they would a ghost. She had no wish for their judgmental glares. Whether it was because she was dokkalfar or from a time different, she had no care to know. Luthan must have read her mind because he motioned for her to come closer and stood beside her like a protector.
“They are controlled by Phorus Adal,” he said, echoing precisely what she wanted to say. “Do you remember him?”
The woman seemed not to recall, but the older wizard beside her nodded distantly, an incredulous look on his face.
“Phorus was an idealist,” he said. “We thought him to have left the kingdom when he disappeared…”
The woman pursued the conversation for him. “We figured they were led by some kind of force. We thought it was the dragon. Are you sure of what you’re saying?”
“Yes,” Luthan and Ahna said at the same time.
Their gazes veered to her. Six or seven others had joined. They formed a circle around them, each with their quarterstaffs brandished. They watched the horizon for any danger that would spring out of the shadows.
“You are Meriel, aren’t you?” the woman asked after her gaze had softened.
Ahna nodded. Luthan noticed how cautiously the magi looked at his wife. He did not like that. He slipped a hand around Ahna’s back and pulled her closer to him. No one was allowed to look at her like that.
She let him hug her closer. It was comforting to feel his warmth, almost like a relief. Maybe she should have done that first before rushing down the streets. It would have calmed her nerves.
“Phorus turned into a lich, and he raised the undead dragon,” Luthan said. “If we destroy Phorus, his control will be broken. If we kill the fiend, the undead curse will go too. Meriel—”
“Guys!” Jules interrupted before Ahna could. He was seriously getting annoyed by yet another reiteration of the situation. They had other things to do, and the void dragon was headed their way. He pointed to the sky, “I would love to catch up, but we need to move.”
Tempest of Bravoure Page 26
