Dreaming in the Dark_Chains of the Fallen Volume 1

by James E. Wisher

  Trust his master to have every angle covered.

  They’re getting ready.

  Damien sensed the growing power a moment after Lizzy spoke. The warlords and sorcerers were drawing soul force. This was the first time he’d felt them all at the same time. He shuddered to think what that much gathered power could do.

  “Heaven’s mercy,” the archmage murmured beside him.

  When you could almost see the power crackling in the air the opposing armies charged.

  They met with a resounding crash like the end of the world. Damien held his breath and hoped none of them survived.

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Sig stood at the head of his army. The dragon’s chill magic formed an impenetrable shield around him. Ogres snarled and trolls shrieked, eager for the killing to begin. Across the barren field, the enemy army stood still and silent. He’d never encountered such discipline. If anything was going to defeat his force, that discipline might be what did the job.

  Of course, he couldn’t discount the crackling power emanating from the Fire King’s champion. Even with hundreds of yards separating them the raging soul force grated on his perceptions like a sliver in the eye. Everything in him screamed to race across and destroy the power while at the same time another, stronger presence said the time was not right.

  That was the Ice Queen. For the past hour he’d been more aware of her presence within him than ever before. It was like she was looking over his shoulder and breathing down his neck.

  He glanced up at the sun. Noon had just arrived. Surely the dragon wouldn’t force them to wait much longer. The tension was growing unbearable.

  Seconds ticked by. His thoughts drifted to Ilda. She’d agreed to remain behind, thank heaven. If she’d been on the front line he might have been too worried to focus and that would get him killed. Today of all days, he expected to need every bit of concentration he could muster.

  Attack!

  Finally!

  “Kill them all!” Sig shouted before leaping into the sky.

  The army roared with one voice and surged forward.

  Sig put them out of his mind and focused on the enemy sorcerers. He needed to take them out before the Voice engaged him.

  There were a dozen figures in black flying above the southerners. Icy energy shot from Sig’s fingers and smashed through their feeble shields like they weren’t even there.

  His first volley took out four. A fifth dove toward his line, power crackling around her hands.

  Sig concentrated on her and hurled soul force javelins.

  Three feet from his target flames burst to life, consuming his attack.

  The Voice came swooping down at him, flames roaring from her outstretched hands.

  Sig darted out of the way. His shield negated the flames that grazed his right side.

  The duel consumed his awareness. Flames surged on either side as he dove at the southern army.

  He pulled up at the last second, twisted, and hurled a chill blast at the Voice.

  She dodged.

  Sig seized the moment to gain the high air.

  Now it was her turn to go on the defensive. He sent spheres streaking at her.

  They exploded in bursts of absolute cold. A shudder ran through his opponent.

  For a moment he dared think he’d scored a solid hit.

  The Voice shook it off and sent a vortex of flames roaring up at him.

  Drawing deep he put on a burst of speed.

  The flames closed in.

  A sharp turn sent him plunging toward her. They came together like thunder.

  The explosion of hot and cold sent both champions tumbling out of the sky. Sig slammed into the ground and scrambled to his feet, unharmed.

  He took a moment to study the broader battle. Thousands of bodies littered the ground around him. Tens of thousands of life forces had dwindled to hundreds, few of them holding much power. The berserkers and warlords had killed each other off first. Of the enemy sorcerers there was no sign.

  The Voice rushed toward him, her power raging nearly out of control.

  Sig drew the last of his power and focused it in his right hand. This clash would settle things for good.

  He spotted her and kicked off the ground.

  They raced at each other.

  Sig pulled his fist back.

  A new power appeared overhead.

  He put it out of his mind.

  Focus!

  If he lost this, he lost the battle.

  The Voice was only twenty yards away and closing fast.

  At ten feet Sig began his swing.

  Stop!

  He froze, his fist six inches from her face. The Voice’s helm trembled. Her whole body was rigid, just like Sig’s.

  What had the dragons done?

  “We must speak.” The voice from behind the helm wasn’t female at all.

  “Agreed,” the Ice Queen said through Sig’s lips.

  Through no desire of his, Sig slowly descended to earth. The Voice landed across from him.

  “Did you sense it as well?” the Ice Queen asked.

  “I did. Why were we not warned?” the Fire King asked. “Watching for these things is his job.”

  “I never understood how our brother thinks.” The Ice Queen turned Sig’s head northeast. “It appears we will be able to ask him shortly.”

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  A shudder ran through Al Elan’s ghostly body. It was the first movement he’d managed in heaven knew how long. The dark walkers shifted as one and turned their gazes away. The massive weight of their regard lifted and an instant later Dreamer was moving.

  The stars blurred and before he knew it, Al Elan was thrust back into his physical body. He groaned and sat up. Everything ached, but to his surprise he felt neither hunger or thirst. He’d barely scrambled to his feet when Dreamer’s great yellow eye opened and focused on him.

  “We have little time.” The dragon’s true voice rumbled like a landslide. “My foolish siblings have begun their millennial stupidity. I do not yet sense the Binder’s presence, thank all the universe. We have arrived…”

  The dragon trailed off and stared at the ceiling. “In time. He’s here. The others will sense him in moments and be looking for an explanation. The investiture is a simple process. Be still and try not to scream.”

  Al Elan barely registered the warning before a black mist settled over him. He gasped in surprise, drawing in a lungful of the mist. Pain and power mingled in his core. Jaws clenched and eyes shut, he fought not to show which was winning.

  The agony persisted for he knew not how long until finally his breath had turned as black as the mist. As the pain faded he looked up at Dreamer. He’d never felt such a powerful connection with anyone or anything. Even the orphans he grew up with, even Iya, his first love, hadn’t been as connected to him as Dreamer.

  “I haven’t time to teach you how to control your new powers,” the dragon said. “I’m going to take control and guide you to the battlefield. Pay attention to what I do so you can copy it yourself. Ready?”

  Al Elan wasn’t ready in the slightest, but he nodded. His head hadn’t even stopped moving when he found himself flying and totally out of control of his body. The underground city flashed by and before he knew it they were out in the midday sun.

  Dreamer turned him south and rushed on. In the distance he felt many glowing dots, some brighter than others. Occasionally one would wink out.

  What you sense is the soul force, or what you call breath, of powerful individuals being snuffed out. That is my siblings’ war. The fools throw away lives we will need when the Binder arrives.

  Having someone talking in his head made Al Elan uncomfortable, but like everything else lately there was nothing he could do about it.

  Faster than he would have believed possible, Al Elan reached a field of corpses. Thousands of bodies covered the ground such that dirt wasn’t even visible. A few hundred survivors slumped amid the carnage. Man and og
re both looked nearer to death than life.

  Only two figures remained standing, a tall blond man and the Voice of the Fire King, both of whom crackled with the same draconic soul force that filled Al Elan to bursting. They jogged over to him, neither looking in the other’s direction.

  Another group approached from behind him. Al Elan looked over his shoulder to see Damien, Jen, the archmage, and two others he hadn’t met descending to join the gathering.

  Damien’s group had barely landed when the Voice asked, “Brother, what has happened and why did you not forewarn us?”

  “The Binder in Chains has been cast out of Heaven and fallen to our world. Matters in the outer darkness prevented me from arriving sooner. You both know what must be done.”

  “Will our sister help?” the blond man asked. “She has cut herself off from the world. I don’t know where to find her.”

  “For this I believe she will, assuming we can locate a champion with a sufficiently pure soul.” Al Elan was having trouble keeping up with the discussion. Even if Dreamer could read his thoughts, it didn’t go both ways.

  “Excuse me.” A man with a scruffy beard had stepped to the front of Damien’s group. He carried himself with the air of one in charge. “Could you explain what, exactly, is going on?”

  “Nothing that you mortals can do anything about,” the blond man said.

  Dreamer shook Al Elan’s head. “Sister, the humans are in as much danger as we are. They need to understand the threat and if they do perhaps they can be of some help in containing it. You have both squandered enough of your forces after all.”

  “Fine, explain to the worms if you must,” the Voice said. “But make it quick.”

  “I assume you noticed the star that streaked across the sky a little while ago?” Dreamer asked.

  “I only caught the edge of it,” Damien said. “Whatever passed felt strong.”

  “What you sensed was the Binder in Chains. The archangel has become corrupted and was cast out of Heaven. He always had a strong presence on our world. Before its fall, he was the patron of the Old Empire. The Throne of Chains was his gift to the imperial line. The artifact drew him here.”

  “What does that mean for us?” the bearded man asked.

  “The Binder’s nature is one of control. Once he regains his focus he will attempt to bring this world fully under his rule. The Old Empire will present little obstacle to him and once he’s finished there he will move on.”

  “To us,” Damien said.

  “Indeed, as a former colony he will see you as the next logical target. After that he will move north to my sister’s icy domain then south to my brother’s deserts and jungles. Nothing will stop him until this world is chained to his will.”

  “What about you?” the archmage asked. “Surely three dragons could destroy a single angel, even one as powerful as the Binder.”

  “Of course we could destroy him,” the Voice said. “He may be a match for any one of us, but my sister and I together could crush him like a bug.”

  The archmage cocked her head. “I assume there’s some reason you don’t?”

  “We don’t,” the blond man said, “for the same reason we don’t fight each other directly. The power necessary to destroy the fallen angel combined with that released by his death would be enough to shatter this planet. I suspect we would all find that a pyrrhic victory.”

  “Like you mortals,” Dreamer said, “we dragons are children of this world. We can live nowhere else. Killing the angel is simply not an option. Thus, our fallback plan, purification. We will use our power to strip the corruption from his soul and in so doing banish him from the mortal realm back to Heaven.”

  “And you need help to do that?” the bearded man asked.

  “Correct,” Dreamer said. “Four of us are needed. My brother and sister here will provide the raw power, I will guide the energy to the Binder’s soul, and our missing sister will strip out the corruption without damaging the pure angelic power that makes the Binder what he is. Nothing less will accomplish our goal.”

  “Your missing sister,” the archmage said. “That’s the fifth dragon, yes?”

  “Yes, Golden Dawn. She withdrew from the world ages ago, having grown disgusted by man’s evil. She dwells at the top of the highest mountain in the Thunder Peaks at the center of the Old Empire. Someone with a pure soul must go there and convince her to help us.”

  “What about the Leviathan?” Damien asked.

  “The mightiest of us.” The Voice snorted but Dreamer ignored her. “He is a being of instinct rather than intellect. I doubt we could explain things so he’d understand and even if we could his power is too wild to be of use in such a delicate ritual.”

  “So who do we send?” the bearded man asked.

  Before anyone could answer, Marie-Bell screamed, clapped her hands to her head, and collapsed.

  Chapter Ninety

  The pain in Marie-Bell’s head vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. When she opened her eyes, she was standing in a white hall that glowed with a diffused, sourceless light. Her body felt weightless and neither heat nor cold troubled her.

  A host of impossibly beautiful angels flew or walked around the space as was their preference. Some distance away more paladins appeared, stripped of their armor and weapons and dressed only in simple togas. A quick glance down revealed that she was garbed the same.

  A gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

  “I am sorry I haven’t contacted you before now,” her angel said in his warm, perfect voice. “Matters in Heaven came to a head faster than I feared. The council of angels has called all our mortal partners from your world to discuss how we might best deal with the Binder’s arrival.”

  “Do you know about the dragons’ plan?” Marie-Bell asked.

  He moved up to stand beside her. “We do. Though none have spoken to Golden Dawn in ages, we know she still lives. The dragons are correct in believing she is necessary to purify the Binder. I believe—”

  An unseen bell tolled, cutting him off in mid-sentence. Everyone began moving deeper into the hall.

  “What’s going on?”

  With slight pressure on her back her angel guided her onward. “The meeting is about to begin. Quickly now.”

  At the end of the hall waited a large circular chamber. Seven angels stood on raised platforms looking down at the rest of the group. Marie-Bell recognized a few of the paladins, including Sir Collin.

  He must have sensed her looking and turned to meet her gaze. His lips curled into a sneer before he looked away.

  Apparently like he was still upset.

  She refocused her attention to the seven angels above them. Each of them radiated power greater than any of those on the floor. Marie-Bell was pretty sure she knew who they were, but just to be certain she asked, “Are they…?”

  “The seven remaining archangels, yes. They are taking their failure to save the Binder hard. No archangel has ever fallen to corruption.”

  The seven raised their hands and the soft murmurs filling the chamber fell silent. The central angel, Adonael, a woman with a halo of golden hair, said, “We are gathered to discuss how best to deal with the threat our fallen brother represents to your world. Your partners will have by now explained the situation. The dragons have made a good plan and we will aid them. It is our responsibility to safeguard the world and if a pure soul must be sent to Golden Dawn one of you will be the best candidate. The quest will be difficult and not all that attempt the journey will survive. We will command none of you to participate. Will any volunteer?”

  Every paladin raised his or her hand.

  Adonael smiled though it looked sad to Marie-Bell. “As expected of our brave partners. Alas, all of you cannot go. Too large a force will draw the Binder’s attention. Twenty will go. Malcom Collin, you will lead this expedition. Marie-Bell, as the only paladin who had a partner wise enough to do what was right rather than simply follow orders, you shall go as well. I leave the remai
ning eighteen to your discretion.”

  The soaring excitement that filled her at the archangel’s announcement turned cold when Sir Collin stepped away from his partner and said, “Mistress Adonael, would it not be best to relieve the girl of her artifacts and turn them over to me? With all three in my possession, I’m certain to win Golden Dawn’s acceptance.”

  The only sign of Adonael’s disapproval was a slight turning down of her lips. “Did you have the courage to quest for the sword and armor? Have you ever faced the trials of the Haunted Lands and emerged alive?”

  Sir Collin bowed his head. “I have not.”

  “Marie-Bell has earned both her place on this mission and the right to wield the artifacts. I will hear no more on the matter.”

  “As you say, Mistress.” Sir Malcom stepped back to his place beside his partner.

  “Return you now to the mortal realm. The quest must begin at once.”

  Marie-Bell blinked and everything went dark. When she opened her eyes again it was to look up into Damien’s worried face.

  So she was to quest with Sir Collin. It was a great honor to be chosen, yet how would she manage with the grandmaster’s disapproval hanging over her?

  She didn’t know, but whatever happened, the mission couldn’t fail.

  Chapter Ninety-One

  Behind the Binder flames busily consumed the trees flattened by his impact. He breathed deep and frowned at the impure air of the mortal realm. The others, his former brother and sister angels, refused to listen when he warned of the dangers of free will. Mortals needed to be led by someone with the strength and determination to compel their obedience.

  Heaven, it seemed, disapproved of his plans. He would show them; the Binder would show them all. He would remake this world in his own image. There would be peace and order. Everyone would know their place and what was expected. His loyal followers would step up to administer in his name. When the other angels saw what he accomplished, they would eat their words and welcome him back to Heaven with open arms.