by Sam Ryder
Beneath them, the Narzani swept onto the flatlands and charged across the terrain like a scourge, perhaps sensing they would taste blood on this night. In their wake, the Black came crashing down.
~~~
SEEKER RYDER (HAS A NICE RING TO IT, DON’T YOU THINK?)
“Hurry,” I said, though I didn’t need to urge Beat—she was already running as fast as she could back to the other Warriors.
“Some of us aren’t Level 4,” Beat said behind me between heavy breaths, her feet slapping against the hard ground as she followed.
Though the Black was mere minutes away and it was pretty dark already, my Seeker eyes allowed me to see what was happening near the ward shields. Lace was already rallying her group, while Beat’s squad milled about, squinting into the shadows, searching for our arrival. “Is Nrrrf bringing Stomp?” Lace asked as I slowed to a stop.
“She’s waking the marmot now,” I said. Before we’d run off, Nrrrf had explained she would need to coax the beast from his slumber, being careful not to startle him. Apparently, marmots didn’t like to be startled, something Eve and I had learned the hard way back on Primo.
“We can’t wait for her.”
“I know. Let’s go.”
The demontorches were already lit, held by several of the Warriors, including Uva. She smiled at me wryly. It felt good to see her. “Nice night for a battle,” she said.
Though I knew she was joking—this night was no different than any other—it helped to loosen the tightness in my chest. I’d heard the dragon’s shriek just like everyone else. “Why not?” I said. “I’m tired of sitting around the campfire while the Warriors and Protectors get to have all the fun.”
Beat had arrived and was rallying her troops, giving them last minute instructions and reminding them of the correct formation depending on which type of monsters arrived. Of course, there was no “right” formation if Vrill and her dragon descended upon us from the air. Nor if the Narzani attacked on this night. We would have to learn how to fight them on the fly.
Millania was standing the closest to the ward shields, the glassy edge barely visible to my Seeker eyes. She turned back and looked in my direction. “Something is out there,” she said.
I knew she couldn’t see shit through the wall of darkness, but I’d learned to trust the Oceanian’s instincts. “Let’s go,” I said, a weight filling my words that was one step beneath a shout.
The two groups, each led by their Protector, marched forward. I strode between them, like a bridge between islands. My hammer glowed softly, humming slightly in my grip. Like us, the magic-infused weapon seemed able to sense the violence that was to come.
The ward shield swallowed us, the tingly sensation followed by the suck-pop! as we emerged on the other side. The inky darkness awaited us, the full measure of the Black having taken over the sky, ground, and everything in between. I could see farther than anyone else, but only in shades of gray and green, the distant mountains not much more than thumbprint smudges against the obsidian backdrop.
Something moved across the sky.
“The dragon is coming,” I said. My immediate thought was to convince the others to retreat. This wasn’t their fight—it was mine. But then I remembered that I didn’t get to choose for them anymore than I wanted them to choose for me.
And the winged reptile wasn’t the only threat we faced. A wave seemed to move across the ground, heading toward us.
Beat was at my side a second later, but I waved her off. “Take care of your Warriors. Hold off the Narzani.”
“They’re here? Shit.”
That about summed it up. I knew we stood no chance against this force, if only because of the sheer number of enemies we faced. But if the two Protectors and their Warriors could hold them off long enough…
I trusted Vrill. Even if she was being controlled by the Morgoss, she would find a way to defeat them. Hell, she’d already managed to talk to me, to warn me about the danger that was now upon us. If not for her advanced warning, we’d have been annihilated during this Black.
“Go,” I said, cutting horizontally through her group as Beat barked out orders. They formed a circle, back to back to back to ensure no one could be killed from behind. Lace’s group was doing the same. I ran toward the loads of primordial ooze we’d prepared for Vrill, waving my glowing hammer over my head to ensure she spotted me. I shone the metal head across the large pots to illuminate them. Like one of those people that waved glowing sticks to assist pilots on an airfield. My eyes were trained skyward, searching for another flash of dark scales that would give away the dragon’s location.
There! It was much closer now, so close I could hear the whisper of leather wings beating the air. A flash of armor appeared above the scales—Vrill’s armor.
“Vrill,” I shouted. “I’m here!”
There was no response but the heavier sound of powerful wings. And then…
Guttural growling. Stampeding feet. The wave was moving faster now, the Narzani propelled forward by the promise of fresh meat. I didn’t know what they were exactly, or why their bloodlust was so strong, only that they wanted us dead, all of us, more than they wanted themselves to be alive.
The urge to run back to help the others was strong, but I had to rely on my trust now more than ever.
The dragon angled toward me, a weapon in and of itself, dark, bladelike spikes flashing on its back, lips roiling with unreleased tendrils of flame. It shrieked.
Oh fuck. I dove to the side, knocking over one vat of ooze in the process, which splattered all over me, coating my skin in a gel-like slime. Despite the speed of my decision, I felt the heat of the dragon’s jet of flame as it crisped the earth nearby. The ooze on my skin bubbled like boiling water.
I think I would’ve sustained third-degree burns if not for the ooze.
Instead, I shoved to my feet and spun around to face the dragon, which had now landed, its tail switching back and forth and knocking over another pot of ooze, the clay pot shattering from the impact.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wave of Narzani approaching, close enough now that I could make out their orange eyes and bristling fur in the darkness. It was time to use the trick we had up our sleeves. “Lace!” I shouted. “Light it!”
She didn’t need to be told. The speedy feline woman was already bolting away from her group of Warriors carrying a demontorch, the flames whipping back and forth because of the speed of her flight.
She was a lone defender against a sea of death. She’s not going to make it, I thought for a second. The Narzani were upon her, claws and teeth flashing in the dark, lit by the fire of her torch.
With my Seeker eyes, I could see the swathe of wetness glistening on the ground, a long band that Beat had the Warriors paint on during the day. We’d used most of our supply of demon’s blood, gathered over the last few weeks.
Lace dove, her arm outstretched, the flames seeming to reach for the blood on the ground, craving it, needing it.
A gout of flame erupted as the blood caught, swiftly running to either side, the fastest moving fuse ever known. In seconds the wide area we occupied was surrounded by a massive wall of fire, cutting us off from the Narzani.
And cutting the dragon off too.
The dragon, I remembered suddenly, surprised I hadn’t been sliced to ribbons and then burnt to a crisp while I’d watched Lace complete her part of the mission.
The dragon was pawing at the dirt, making a low growling sound from the back of its throat. The large collar encircling its throat was glowing darkly.
Vrill, I thought. She’s controlling it. Or at least she was trying to, though I was certain the Morgoss were fighting against her, attempting to force her to make the dragon inflict terrible violence on us all. Still, she’d bought me a few more seconds of life and I wouldn’t waste them. I ran to the side, circling the dragon to the left, my eyes never leaving its maw in case I needed to dodge another jet of flame.
Soon I could see Vrill, he
r face contorted in agony, her head raised to the sky as she issued a silent scream. “Vrill!” I shouted. “Hang on!” Her face twitched slightly in recognition of my voice, but she was unable to turn in my direction, her focus entirely on thwarting the efforts of her masters to control her and, through her, the dragon.
Which meant it was all up to me.
~~~
VRILL
It was a place of darkness. A place of pain. Vrill wished for blindness, for her eyes to return to those of the woman she’d been before being Leveled up. Even then, she knew, she wouldn’t be able to escape the nightmare invading her skull.
She saw the fate of the world, the destruction of Tor, the End of All Things Light, the Onset of the Eternal Black. The Morgoss showed her all this to cow her, she knew, and it was working. Her body was trembling, weakening. She’d hidden her true intentions from the demon overlords for a long time now, but that didn’t mean she could act on her heart. Not when their link through the damned collar around her neck was so strong.
She managed to turn her head slightly in the direction she’d last seen Sam Ryder, but he was already gone. She didn’t blame him. Saving her mattered little when the fate of the world hung in the balance. She only hoped he would remember her fondly, the person she’d been before and not this darker, shadow-cloaked version of herself.
Then she saw something else, something that cracked the edges of her thinning resolve.
The Narzani. They leapt through the wall of flames without regard for being burned. Not because they couldn’t burn, but because they desired the taste of flesh and blood more than they valued their own lives, more than they feared pain.
She watched three go down in a heap, their bodies aflame. Two went still almost immediately while the third writhed back and forth to try to extinguish the flames. Eventually, the fires on its fur went out, not having demon’s blood to feed them. Its gray fur was black now, singed and crisp. It shuddered once, twice and then died, a croaking noise on its lips.
The wall of demonfire had been a smart move by Sam and his allies, but Vrill knew it would not be enough. She knew this because she could see into the Morgoss’s minds just as they could see into hers, using her eyes as their lens into the battle. They were already formulating a counter maneuver.
Several more Narzani burst through the fire, rolling to extinguish the flames. Two died. Four survived, badly burned but still full of bloodlust. They launched themselves at the pack of Warriors standing at the ready. The Warriors moved like a single organism, shifting to the side to meet the attack, three of them facing the creatures while the others covered the rear. The largest of the group, a solid woman with a body that seemed to be constructed of nothing but taut skin stretched over mountains of muscle and ridges of bone, lashed out with a long spear, catching one of the Narzani in the throat. Its head snapped back as blood spouted from the puncture. Beat, Vrill realized with excitement, remembering with fondness the time they’d fought together in Annakor. She was different now, a Protector, even more formidable a fighter than before.
The woman’s prowess in battle gave Vrill strength, even as several more Narzani leapt through the flames, half surviving while the others perished. The fire would pare their numbers down to a more reasonable amount, but even split in half the ocean of Narzani would be sufficient to overrun the Warriors, killing them all.
Unless she did something.
“ARGH!” she yelled, pressing her mind against that of the Morgoss, twisting her head in the opposite direction, against their will. She could feel her veins popping, her tendons stretching and protesting. Her own body fought against her, but she refused to be denied.
Surprising her, the Morgoss severed the link and her head snapped around viciously. She cried out in pain, her mind flooded with so much…so much…everything. After days and weeks bound to the will of her demon overlords, the sudden freedom seemed to fill her in a rush of sounds and colors and thoughts, so many thoughts, each stumbling over each other to try to get to the front of her mind. But then her gaze landed on Sam, who stood but a stone’s throw away, hefting a large clay pot of primordial ooze over his shoulder. The vision of him gave clarity to her convoluted thoughts. He hadn’t abandoned her at all. He’d risked everything by coming within striking distance of Mrizandr. To save her. Because he trusted her. He’d gathered as much ooze as he could, because he trusted her.
She was about to jump down to help him when the full strength of the Morgoss returned through her collar, which tightened around her throat, cutting off her lungs from the air they needed.
Never again, their voices said, scraping, grating, chipping away at her mind. Gasping, she felt her fingers moving upwards, toward the other collar, the one that linked her to the dragon. To Mrizandr. She felt her mind being twisted, her eyes still locked on Sam, who stood frozen, a look of uncertainty and concern falling across his face as he held the pot of ooze that contained so much hope if her theory was right.
The Morgoss sent the command to her and she relayed it to the dragon, her resistance shattered beyond repair. She had nothing left.
Nothing.
It was over.
~~~
SAM
I knew something was wrong. For just a flash, a narrow window of time that seemed to move in slow motion, it had been her again. Vrill. Just Vrill, with no influence from the demons hellbent on destroying this world.
But then that moment had ended and her eyes went blank, those of a stranger once more.
Which I knew was bad. Very bad. Acting on instinct alone, my legs started moving even before my mind caught up to the situation, even as the dragon lunged toward me, mouth open, flame-crusted jaws snapping.
“Oh fu—” I tried to curse as I dove, the side of the dragon’s scaled face thudding against me, picking me up and launching me in the air. Ooze from the clay pot flew everywhere, hitting my face like splatters of fat raindrops. Still gripping my hammer in one hand, I was forced to release the pot to cushion my fall. The clay shattered and the rest of the ooze ran out through the cracks, pooling on the ground.
I immediately knew I’d made a mistake. I didn’t need my hammer for this battle. I wasn’t going to attack the dragon, or Vrill. Their lives were linked somehow, and to kill one would mean the death of the other. And I wouldn’t kill Vrill, not even to save everyone else. I just…couldn’t. Sacrifice one to save the many. That saying suddenly didn’t feel so noble, so necessary, anymore. Because if someone as good as Vrill had to die for the rest of us to survive, was any of it worth it?
Not to me.
There had to be another way.
I dropped my hammer, shoved to my feet, and grabbed the first pot of ooze I could find.
I was too slow by half. The dragon’s tail whipped around, ripping into my side, one of its spikes goring me through the ribs, puncturing all kinds of organs not meant to be punctured.
It lifted me up slowly, until I was face to face with it, its oval-shaped black eyes burning into me with such hatred I thought it might manage to stop my heart just from that look.
Wait. Wait. There was something else too. Something beyond the hate. Hidden away, deep inside. It was fear. The fear of being used. Of being someone else’s pawn. It was the same look I’d seen on Vrill’s face before. This dragon was as much a slave as she was, but that didn’t mean it was too far gone to be saved, did it?
Spots danced before my eyes, the pain immense, agonizing. I was dying. The ooze that had once coated my skin was gone, having sunk into my skin to save me from the burns. I still held the pot of ooze in my hands. All I had to do was tip it over onto myself and be saved.
But someone did have to be sacrificed for the greater good, and it wasn’t Vrill.
It was me, and I was a willing lamb facing a pack of wolves.
With all the strength I had left, I hefted the pot onto my shoulder and then launched it toward the dragon’s open mouth.
~~~
BEAT
The Narzan
i were vicious motherfuckers. Beat still couldn’t believe the flames hadn’t thwarted them. Instead they’d gone all kamikaze, more than half of them dying as they launched themselves recklessly through the fire like goddamned Hollywood stuntmen.
And even with most of them dying, there were still plenty left.
Beat didn’t know how many she’d killed herself, but it was in the double digits. Based on what she’d seen, Lace and her Wolverine claws had killed at least as many as she had. And yet there were always more to kill. The Narzani made the Maluk’ori demon horde look like a gang of toddlers riding tricycles.
The cat-dude named Chestah was dead. The white-furred guy named Guz, too.
It was two too many for Beat, who’d fully bought into Sam’s ideal of No More Deaths, something that was to be strived for, even if it was impossible in this violent world.
Speaking of Sam, she’d lost sight of him somewhere near the dragon. She desperately wanted to search for him, to make sure he wasn’t injured or dead, but that wasn’t her role anymore. He trusted her, and she had to trust him.
Her responsibility was the Warriors, both living and dead, around her.
Beat didn’t mourn her dead, however, not now. Not when there were enemies to be fought, allies to protect. Instead, their deaths spurred her on, righteous anger filling her from head to toe. Her spear was a series of lightning strikes wielded by a creator of storms. Her foes fell before her in droves, piling up, their blood running into dark rivers. She was covered in it herself. She tasted it, felt its warmth.
She felt one claw jab into her back and she reached back to grab the creature by the throat, tearing it from her skin, which ripped away. “Fuck you!” she shouted, pouring her anger into her words as she launched it away. Right into the wall of flames. It shrieked and then was gone, devoured by the hungry fire, which sizzled and spat in excitement.
She spun to open the throat of another Narzani with the blade of her spear, stopping to watch it fall, her ears picking up a new sound.
