by Craig Zerf
Nathaniel had given instructions that, whenever any squad came across human prisoners the squad leader would allocate a certain number of the squad to stay with them, find them food and generally do all that they could to help. Nathaniel had said that more would be done for them when the final battle was over.
The marine stumbled again and Kob grasped his arm to steady him.
‘It’s working,’ said Tad. ‘The rubber heads have pulled back to London. Not sure how that helps,’ he continued. ‘You can’t keep up this ruse for much longer and the moment they see that it’s all smoke and mirrors we are going to have a million unhappy Orcs and goblins itching for a fight.’
‘It won’t get to that,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I hope,’ he added.
‘You hope?’ Said Tad. ‘Oh, great. That fills me with confidence.’
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. ‘Have faith.’
Tad smiled. ‘I do, my friend,’ he said. ‘I really do. So then, what now?’
‘Now,’ answered The Forever Man. ‘I put a finish to this.’
‘How?’ Asked The Little Big Man.
‘I need to get to London. The London Stone, to be exact. Once I am there, then I need a few moments to set the rest of my plan in motion.’
‘When?’ Asked Kob.
‘No time like the present,’ responded Nathaniel. ‘The sooner the better and all that.’
‘I will come with you,’ volunteered Kob. ‘You will need help.’
Nathaniel nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘I will also come,’ said Tad.
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘The people need a king.’
‘Good,’ said Tad. ‘Because they have one - you.’
‘No. When you get back to the Free State, you must take the crown. You must be king.’
‘Why me?’ Asked Tad. ‘Why not you?’
Nathaniel went down on one knee and put his arms around his friend. Neither of them spoke. There was too much to say and there was nothing that could be said.
Then The Forever Man stood up and nodded at Kob. ‘Let’s go.’
The Orc put his hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder.
Color raged and time twisted and they were gone.
And the tears rolled unheeded down The Little Big Man’s cheeks as he stood alone.
****
Nathaniel and Kob materialized at the top of the street that housed the London Stone.
Unfortunately, unlike the last time they had materialized there, the street was full of Orcs and Nathaniel had simply not had enough spare energy to disguise himself.
The marine unclipped his axe and Kob drew his broadsword then, without pause, they simply attacked, driving their way through the packed Orcs towards the London Stone that was half way down the crowded street.
It took a few moments for the startled Orcs to respond and by then at least ten were down. But there were still many to go and they quickly rallied, drawing their weapons and charging at The Forever Man and his friend.
Kob fought like a being possessed, his sword cleaving through the ranks of the enemy like the very scythe of Death himself.
Nathaniel slipped and fell to one knee as waves of fatigue and weariness threatened to overcome him. Five days and nights without sleep combined with the unbelievable amounts of energy that he had expended were taking its toll on him and he was now so exhausted that both his mind and his body were running on empty.
Kob hauled him up by his collar and pushed him forward and, it was with surprise that Nathaniel saw that he was in front of the London Stone.
He swung his axe at the bars that protected the stone, smashing through them as he did so. Then, with a mighty heave, he pulled the steel free and stood next to the stone.
Behind him he could hear Kob redoubling his efforts to keep the attacking Orcs back. To give Nathaniel time.
The Forever Man put his hands on the stone and concentrated, drawing in power. Above him lightning flashed across the sky and massive peals of thunder hammered the land. A vast wind picked up and screamed through the streets of London like a banshee calling for the souls of the damned. All about him windows shattered and doors blew off their hinges. The ground shuddered as if it were in the throes of death.
Nathaniel could hear the clashes of swords and the scream of the dying all around him as Kob gave his all to protect him for as long as possible. But they were as sounds and happenings from another place. Another would.
The London Stone started to shimmer as it turned from dull gray-brown to a deep orange and then to a fiery red as it heated up, filling with power.
The Forever Man’s hands started to blacken and burn, the pain as intense as anything that he had ever felt before. But he dared not let go. He dared not break contact.
He pulled in more power and then, with the skill born of twelve years of training, he started to weave the layers of light together, forming a net of vast size that he spread over the entire city around him.
His clothes burst into flame and he could feel his armor start to melt as the power mounted. The pain was too intense to voice. There was no room to scream, there was no room for anything bar the power and the pain.
Behind him he sensed Kob go down, a blade through his torso. But he rose again and continued to fight, bleeding from over twenty deep cuts, his life pouring from him as he fought on.
The net of light anchored itself to the ground and then started to tighten, pulling itself in, capturing all in its crackling bonds.
White hot needles of agony pierced The Forever Man’s very soul as the power mounted to an apocalyptic level, pouring into the London Stone in a waterfall of sound and light. Buildings all around The Forever Man started to explode, masonry and concrete and steel fountaining up into the sky as the ground shook and rumbled and tore apart.
Another spear took Kob in the chest. He heaved himself forward and struck his enemy down with a mighty overhand blow but the spear remained anchored in his chest, slicing deep into his lungs. He coughed up blood and swung again, dispatching another Orc.
Yet another blade struck him, and then another spear. He fell to his knees. An axe shattered his helmet. Blows rained down on him as he struggled to stand. If he could not delay them any longer then Nathaniel would not have enough time to finish his task.
Kob shook his head, shaking it from side to side like a wounded bull elephant. And he heard the singing of the human warriors as they stood with him on the wall. He saw Tad’s smile as he clasped his hand and called him friend.
He remembered The Forever Man giving him a name.
With a last mighty effort he stood and roared. ‘I am Kob Kingsman!’
And he charged into the fray once again, buying Nathaniel the precious extra seconds that he needed.
Nathaniel sensed his friend go down and he knew that he was out of time. So he stopped attempting to push aside the pain. Instead he accepted it. He welcomed it. He used it, adding it to the net of power. Augmenting it with his own suffering. Giving his very life to its existence. He opened his soul and let the London Stone take it to do with it as it willed.
Time stopped.
The sky went dark.
The London Stone shattered into a million pieces.
And the world moved.
Chapter 46
Commander Ammon of the Fair-Folk opened his eyes. At first they could not focus. All about him was dark. Gray. He looked up at the sky. It was a dead blue color. There was no hint of the life light.
He glanced from left to right. And what he saw filled him with utter dread and despair.
On the right he saw the valley of Southee. And on each side of the Vale rose the Sethanon Mountains.
He heard a wail of anguish behind him and he turned to see Seth Hil-nu, his chief mage. Next to him stood Milly human, her face a mask of terror.
And spread out beyond them the rest of the Fair-Folk and their minions. The Orcs, the goblins and the trolls.
‘How is this possible?’ Whispered Amm
on.
‘Where are we?’ Shrieked Milly, the only human there.
‘We are home,’ croaked Seth. ‘We have been sent back to where we came from. Back to our land of origin. Back to darkness. We have been sent back to Death.’ He turned to Ammon. ‘You egotistical fool,’ he said. ‘You’ve destroyed us all.’
And millions upon millions of dark elves came pouring into the valley and over the mountains, and they fell upon the Fair-Folk in an avalanche of destruction.
Chapter 47
There is no tunnel.
There is no light.
There is only the unbearable lightness of being. Because the universe and all in it has already occurred and will continue to occur, again and again. Ad infinitum.
A leaf in an ocean of eternity.
A single soul lost in an endless moment in time.
Perpetually, eternally and always.
Unless someone has enough power to stop it. To continue onwards. To prevent us making the same mistakes over and over. A lever to move the world.
A man alone.
Living forever.
The Forever Man.
Chapter 48
A tsunami of pain. A bright light. Voices.
Nathaniel opened his eyes.
Above him the pulse-light coruscated across the sky. He rolled over onto his front and then slowly levered himself to his knees, fighting the bolts of pain that flashed through him as he moved.
He glanced down at his body. He was almost naked, what remained of his charred clothing hung off him like strips of burned offerings.
Raggedy man.
A large war axe lay on the snow next to him. He picked it up and used it to pull himself to his feet.
Then he looked around. Standing a few yards away were a group of ten men. One stood next to a horse and the rest were mounted. They were all dressed in a similar fashion. Ten gallon hats, leather trousers, denim shirts, boots. On their hips, belts with holsters. The holsters looked to contain some manner of old fashioned, long barreled revolver. They also carried swords and spears.
The man who had dismounted spoke first. ‘Well, goldarnit. Just where in tarnation did you come from, stranger? One minute you wasn’t there and the next you was.’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, what’s your name boy?’
Again the marine shook his head and shrugged.
‘You simple, boy?’ Continued the man.
‘I don’t think so,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘Where am I?’
The group of men laughed. ‘Well you be in the Unified States of New America. The good ole USNA. Where else, boy?’
Nathaniel wrinkled his forehead as he thought. He remembered a pulse. A land. A battle? But it was faded. Out of focus and disjointed.
‘The pulse,’ he said. ‘I think that I remember the pulse.’
‘What you talking about?’ Asked the man. ‘What’s a pulse?’
Nathaniel pointed at the sky. ‘Those colors. The light.’
‘Oh,’ acknowledged the man. ‘The High-Light. What about it?’
‘Not sure,’ mumbled the marine. ‘I think that I remember it happening.’
‘I surely doubt it,’ laughed the man.
‘Why?’ Asked Nathaniel.
‘Because the High-Light appeared over six hundred years ago,’ said the man. ‘So unless you be real old, you be mistaken.’
And a voice in Nathaniel’s mind spoke to him. But he ignored it because the words made no sense.
The voice said -
‘You are The Forever Man…and you have moved the world.’
Hi guys – Well, I hope that you enjoyed this. I know that it was a bit darker than the other installments but, as Tad often says, ‘Sometimes life just sucks.’ If you did enjoy it PLEASE could you leave a review? I would really appreciate it. And, once again, if you want to get hold of me please feel free to write [email protected] It’s my personal email and I will get back to you.
Thanks again for all and speak again soon
Your friend – Craig
