You know?
On her feet now, she smiled in return, her own green eyes reflecting the radiance of his power.
“I do.” The relief, the bond of a shared secret, the joy of knowing a true kinship, despite being separated by generations. “But one thing I don’t know… how did you return?”
The giant smiled.
We do not only have enemies beyond the veil, but it seems allies as well. He looked past her, to the top of the steps. And speaking of friends…
The army of mankind rose into view, striding out of the smoke like heroes, led by a motley crew of men whose bravery had met every challenge and prevailed.
Iain, the Forester, youth who had taken on the mantle of leadership when it had been needed the most.
Marlyn, the Tulador, whose keen imagination had fashioned the weapons that had saved the day.
Pol, the shaman, supported by his fellows on either side, still weary from the burden of protecting his companions.
Arbistrath, once haughty, now less so, bearing proudly the scars of fighting alongside his fellow man.
Three of the Woodsman’s Four; Narlen, the Plainsman, Naresh the Servant and Elerik the Farmer, a trio, thrown together by the heat of battle and forged into men of power.
And lastly, the Woodsman himself, humble and strong, once consumed by vengeance, but now a leader of men.
Behind these heroes, scores of others, each brave, proud, each with his or her own tales to tell of the battle fought and friends lost. An army of heroes, who had fought the very denizens of hell itself and emerged victorious.
Stone gazed out upon them with blazing green eyes and his heart soared to see such proud examples of mankind, yet at the same time it broke with grief. For others had been lost.
Proud Hofsted, the Lieutenant ever loyal, ever willing to do his duty.
Master Wrynn, his mentor, his teacher, who had always had faith in him.
And so many others. So many. Foresters, Tulador Guards, Shamans and, even now on the plains two miles to the North, the Plains People.
His heart ached with a burden of grief that none could understand, for his knowledge surpassed all boundaries of man, knowing each and every soul that had been lost as though they were a close and intimate friend. Jafari, he remembered, almost as if he had been there, hurling himself into the blaze to break the spell that shielded the enemy army.
Should he have tried harder? Should he try, even now, after the event , to save them, these brave souls that had been lost in the conflict?
No. The dragon had warned him. Time was a strange and fickle beast, with flows and counter flows, but one thing was constant; a soul that had passed remained passed.
Minutes could be countered. Hours could not.
That rule could never be broken.
“Fools… all of you…”
The laughter of the Seeress broke him out of his contemplation, even as she was surrounded by the ranks of men and women that comprised the army of man.
“Look above you, the armies of my masters come, even now!”
They looked. They saw the truth of her words, shimmering shapes, hell in the heavens. Ceceline rose on wings of shadow, floating above the army as her cackling laughter rang out across the platform.
“All your heroics, all your bravery, all your tampering with the natural flow of time; none of it matters.” She grinned as she spoke to the blazing figure that stood, towering above his lieutenants. “Even you cannot stand against the full legions of hell, my king…”
The Glaives hummed their indignation at his sides, as though daring her to test those words, but Stone thought back to what he’d witnessed in the anteroom of Hell, before giving a nod.
Perhaps. He smiled. But then, we won’t be here.
He turned to the leaders of his army, who all knelt down, bar Alann who merely nodded as he awaited his orders.
Enter the Portal. I shall follow.
“Of course, my Lord.”
Further laughter from the sorceress above them.
“Madness! The Portal yet forms! Your men will be lost throughout time and space…”
The Woodsman turned to the angel, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
“Does the witch speak the truth, my Lord?”
No point concealing the truth of the matter. The titan nodded.
Aye, he admitted. I can direct you with my power, but only so far. You will land on Earth, rest assured. But at which period of history, I cannot guarantee. He placed a giant hand on the man’s shoulder. But have faith, he told the man, I shall find you. He raised his voice so that all might hear. I will not rest till I find each and every one of you. Trust me.
Silence from the men, the only noise the howling of the wind across the tower and the rumbling of distant thunder as armies from beyond the Veil gathered for war.
Then…
“I trust you.”
Gwenna rose.
“As do I.”
Others rose too, the rustling of fabric and the murmur of voices as the entire army got to their feet and swore their trust in his word. Tears glistened Stone’s immortal eyes, moved by their confidence in him.
Go. I shall find you on the other side.
The Woodsman nodded and turned, facing the Portal before them, axe in hand.
“Follow me…”
He stepped forwards into the green swirl of energy… and was gone. Following his example the rest of the army marched forwards, each man and woman taking a deep breath, as though diving into water, before vanishing in turn into the Portal.
“Madness!” called the Seeress from above. “He deceives you! He will betray you!”
But they paid her no heed, streaming into the unknown with only their faith in their Lord to guide them. Eventually, only Gwenna and Stone remained on the pyramid. She turned to him, gazing up the two feet that separated their faces, two pairs of matching green eyes that regarded each other with love and familiarity unthinkable even a short time ago.
They embraced, the petite woman and the mighty titan, before parting.
Go. I will find you.
She nodded, turned without a word, and disappeared.
Leaving Stone alone, at last, in his adopted homeworld.
He looked about, as if capturing the image of this world for one last time before he left.
A booming of thunder, the stench of brimstone, and the world split asunder, the legions of Hell descending upon the platform, the island and the coast beyond. Looming giants towered above the Beacon. Vast ships of demonic iron floated high in the sky above.
Thumping footsteps, as Ceceline floated to the ground once more, a mighty horned shape forming beside her.
Baron Asmodeus.
The demon frowned, confusion clear to see on his face.
“Stone…?”
The beast snarled, made to charge forwards, but a blinding sphere of coruscating light leapt out from Stone, surrounding him in an unbreakable barrier and keeping the forces of hell at bay.
Silence, Baron. You’re in my world, now.
The beast snorted, but didn’t speak.
Good. I shall leave you now, with this, he tossed to the duo, the Seeress and the demon, a shining crystal, smooth like a pebble and wrought with glowing runes, and some parting words. He smiled as he spoke, but his voice was low, menacing and carried with it complete and utter conviction in his words. You brought me here, a hundred years ago. You manipulated me, tricked me, fed me lies and power thinking that I would forge you a gateway to my world. You almost had me. But you made one mistake; you spent so much time trying to kill me, that you forgot about the real heroes of this world. The brave men and women ahead of me will help me to prepare my world, to forge a new future for mankind. A brighter future.
The demon snarled as he spoke, unwilling to remain silent any longer.
“You think to delay us? A hundred years is nothing to such as us, godling. We will come for your world, in numbers greater than you can imagine…”
&
nbsp; The titan of light smiled.
And I shall be waiting.
He turned, striding towards the green portal, the barrier behind him keeping anyone from following. He looked over his shoulder, speaking to them one last time.
Oh, and Cece? I’d run if I were you. You have ten seconds…
He vanished into the swirl as the pair looked down at the glowing runestone that began to hum, the hum turning into a whine, the whine into a roar as power untold prepared to release in cataclysmic detonation.
The beast looked at the Seeress.
“Oh, sh-“
***
Enree gazed out upon the Pen, shielding his eyes from the blinding light behind it that faded, leaving behind the rising mushroom cloud that billowed miles into the sky, as though in slow motion. His every limb ached. His skin was raw and encrusted with dried blood from the countless wounds that bedecked his body. On his back, a Yaht, the bow-string long snapped.
The last five Clansmen he had killed with his bare hands.
Behind him, the last survivors of the Plains People. Barely a hundred had made it through the battle, out of the thousand that had begun it. But they had survived. Against impossible odds, they had survived.
The pride of the Plains People had been restored.
“What do we do now?” came a voice from behind him.
The Plainsman thought from a moment.
“We journey North. We find others. We hide. We survive.”
Another voice.
“Is there any point? They told us the world would end…”
Enree smiled, his lined face creasing beneath greying hair.
“I know. But something tells me that we’ve not been forgotten. We go North. We survive. We wait.”
“Yes, Chief.”
The men turned from him, walking away and leaving him to his thoughts, his memories.
He remembered the cryptic conversation with Master Wrynn after the liberation of Pen-Argyle, that fateful night.
Fight, he’d told him. Fight and don’t be afraid of death. Don’t be afraid of anything. This world is lost, but not yet. Because, in the end, none of this has happened. None of it.
Not yet…
Chapter Ten:
“Steve?”
PC Webb turned, his face impassive, his eyes vacant. Looking down at his fist, Yearsley saw the torn remnants of a cheap, blue coat. The younger officer let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a second. Drawing deep, he plucked up the tattered reserves of his courage and walked to the edge of the building. He looked down.
“Steve…?” No response. “Steve!”
“…what?”
The younger officer turned to look at his companion. “Where’s he gone?”
The older officer stared at him for a moment, disbelieving, then moved to join him. Looking down into the alleyway a lethal fifty feet below, sure enough there was nothing; no mangled body, no grisly remains. The empty, wind-swept alley defying all logic.
“…bloody hellfire.”
The younger bobby looked at him.
“There’s nowhere to hang on to. He couldn’t have survived… Where’s he gone?”
A voice behind the two, low, quiet, yet somehow drowning out the very thunder that rumbled in the heavens above. They shuddered as they listened, hairs on their necks standing upright, for this was a voice no mortal man should ever hear.
A voice with the authority of a god.
He’s gone on a journey.
They turned, looking to the far end of the air-conditioning unit, before looking up, craning their necks to take in the scale of the being before them. Being, for what other word could they use?
Angel? God?
“A… a journey?” ventured Yearsley, the pair dropping to their knees in fear and awe as they struggled to come to terms with the radiant titan before them.
Aye. A journey. The being gazed into the sky with luminous green eyes, as though recalling events long past. He will change. Things will come to pass, good, bad. But, ultimately, it will all end up back here, at the beginning. He smiled, faintly, before turning to the two Constables. You should go. It’s cold. Plus, you look like idiots in those plastic bags.
An elbowed nudge.
“Told you…”
Yearsley ignored the jibe, gazing up at the giant.
“What about you?”
The titan smiled.
I have a journey of my own to make. I made a promise to catch up with some friends and I intend to keep it.
“Where… where do they live?”
A quiet chuckle, like the distant rumbling of thunder in the mountains.
Not where, my young friend. But when.
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From the Ashes Page 19
