by Jeff Kish
“You are outnumbered!” Praler shouts at Hyrel. “Give up or be slaughtered!”
“You underestimate Eagle,” he sneers as he flings another searing fireball her way, but she blasts the projectile with a jet of water so powerful that it extinguishes instantly.
Though momentarily stunned by the display, Hyrel recovers and asks, “Lieutenant Commander Praler, I presume?”
“I said to surrender,” she stresses.
The confident mercenary responds with more projectiles. Though she extinguishes each one with ease, he succeeds in holding her down as his men gain the advantage in the conflict.
Praler observes as her men, scouts by training, fall to their skilled opponents. Growing desperate, Praler attempts to get close to Hyrel, but he retreats while attacking her from a distance. When she veers to chase after the runic, he bombards her with blasts that stop her in her tracks. All the while, the roar from the approaching army reminds Praler she is nearly out of time.
As her last ally is cut down, she makes a last-ditch sprint for the runic, but the Eagle member carrying her is now safely behind the approaching horde. A fireball impacts her calf, and she tumbles to the ground in searing pain. She turns back to her opponent, now nearly atop her, and tries to counter with a water blast, but he grabs her wrist and bends it behind her back, pulling it until her arm breaks. She screams in agony as he forces her to her knees.
“You never stood a chance,” Hyrel goads as he forces his victim to her feet. “Let’s go see the commander, shall we?”
* * *
Talkem bombards Marmela with a savage gale that sends her careening backward, patiently awaiting support as his former peer continues to cling to her dangerous blade. “You could always end yourself, Marmela. Perhaps that would bring more honor than pretending to be a rag doll.” Defiantly, Marmela gets to her feet and holds her weapon steady. The display annoys Talkem, and he sends her flying backward even more forcefully. “Look at your failure, Marmela! My men have won, and my runic approaches.”
The mob forms a wide ring around Marmela, keeping her contained while the Eagle members proudly report to their boss. “Mission accomplished, sir!” Hyrel exclaims as he throws the injured Praler at his feet. “A gift for you, as well.”
The former commander is more interested in the unconscious runic hanging between two Eagle members, but his brow furrows. “This isn’t the one-armed youth. What did you bring me?”
“Corpit lost track of the earth shaper, but we still secured this one,” Hyrel explains. “She’s an ice elementalist, and she is assuredly a runic.”
“Are all runics children?” he laments.
“Errm… I think she’s just small,” Hyrel says. “Finally, here is a gift from Corpit. Ospif Haran, cousin to the king, himself!”
Talkem blinks in surprise. “Did I not get a report about you missing from the Academy? How did you end up with Corpit?”
The looks in Ospif’s eye suggests he has unkind words to say, but the gag in his mouth prevents him from answering. Hyrel shrugs and says, “He was a loud one. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“What am I to do with him?” Talkem asks. “Ransom him to the Academy? I have better things to do.”
Hyrel unsheathes his knife. “Shall I gut him, then?”
Talkem ponders this before replying, “No, let us keep him until he is proven useless.” Turning to Praler, he says, “Lieutenant Commander, it is good to see you. I never got to thank you for your support in my escape from that accursed dungeon.”
Praler howls in rage as she tries to take aim at the commander with her good arm, but Hyrel again grabs her wrist and bends it behind her. Through the pain, she spits at him and shrieks, “You took my family, you monster!”
“Now, now, don’t make me break your other arm,” Hyrel chides.
Talkem draws his shattered blade and holds it up in the beaming sunlight. “Commander Marmela, I think it’s time you lowered that nasty weapon,” he says, pressing the blade to Praler’s neck. “Or will you have your subordinate’s blood on your hands?”
Marmela can’t help but eye Rex; his position is within striking distance of Talkem, and yet he doesn’t make a move. She wonders if he could possibly have become a double agent, though that wouldn’t explain the transmitted cipher. Reluctantly, she says, “Very well, Thayo. You’ve beaten us.” She crouches and rests her water blade against the dry earth. The moment she releases it, it loses its form and soaks into the thirsty plains. She stands and places her hands in the air.
“Strip her of weaponry and bind her hands,” Talkem orders, and his men obey as they cry out in victory over their opponents. When Marmela is thrown at his feet, he squats and twirls his blade before her. “You were a worthy adversary, Marmela,” he says as the screams of a sky boat can be heard as it makes its approach. “We will now take our leave, and I will bind my runic. You can know your sacrifice was in vain.”
“Even if there’s a sliver of chance you will be caught, my sacrifice was not in vain.”
“I will not be caught,” he says, “because I have decided that you will be my hostage. You will ensure my victory.”
“The general will not hesitate on our account,” she asserts as they yank her and Praler to their feet.
“We shall see about that,” he contends. “Though, I must say, your persistence has been detestable and, as you might imagine, I loathe the sight of you. Perhaps we don’t need two hostages.”
“You do not frighten me,” Marmela says. “Do your worst.”
“Very well,” he says, gripping his blade. When she cringes in anticipation, he turns and plunges it into Praler’s stomach. The lieutenant commander falls to her knees as she coughs and gasps for air.
“PRALER!” Marmela shrieks. Rex turns away in shock, his face pale as the mob whoops and hollers around him.
The lieutenant commander offers a final, brave look to Marmela as she falls helplessly forward, landing face-first as her life reaches its end. Marmela sobs at the sight of her fallen comrade.
“Tears don’t become a Commander, Marmela,” Talkem scoffs. “Did you not just sacrifice the lives of a dozen men? Did you not just slay many of mine?”
Marmela’s knees grow weak as the full burden of her decision crashes upon her. “She was your comrade in arms,” she utters, her voice quavering. “We all were!”
“Then why did you draw your sword against me?” he counters. “She died because of your brash and hasty assault. Her death is on your hands.”
She clenches her teeth and fiercely declares, “You’d best kill me now, Thayo, or I will end you myself.”
“Strong words for a defeated prisoner. Take her to the sky boat,” he orders as it lands nearby, and he faces Hyrel with satisfaction. “This is our victory, my friend. You will accompany me to-”
“UP THERE!” someone shouts.
“What is it?” another wonders aloud.
Talkem shoots his gaze skyward to find a figure running among the clouds, and his heart sinks as Di makes her descent. “It’s her,” he growls.
Marmela lifts her eyes, and she feels a welling hope at the sight of the diminutive silhouette rapidly approaching. “Thank you,” she whispers to Praler and her men, relieved to know that their sacrifice was not made in vain.
Chapter 25
“Go ahead, Thayo,” Hyrel urges, drawing his sword. “Allow Eagle to earn its keep.”
“No,” he says. “She would make quick work of your men, plus she can give chase to a sky boat. We must leverage our hostages.”
“And if that fails?”
“Then we will attack on my signal.” To Rex, he says, “Keep the king’s cousin hidden for now.” Ospif cries out muffled screams as Rex shoves him into the sky boat.
Fire starts to stir, and Talkem glances to her. “Perhaps a battle won’t be necessary. Let us see what Diamond has to say about this runic.”
Though surprised, Hyrel calls out for his men to bring Fire to him. They plant her feet
on the ground, and they also bring Marmela. They stand behind the two prisoners and await the arrival of their adversary.
The barefooted Di does a quick flip to make her final descent, landing firmly on the ground in front of Talkem and his men. The crowd is bewildered by the appearance of the child soldier. Her full-length hair blows faintly in the wind as she calmly announces, “Give up. I’d rather not have to kill you all.”
The men fidget, some out of fear, others from confusion. Boldly, Talkem swings his broken blade to Marmela’s throat. “The fact that we’re still alive means you aren’t under a command to kill us,” he observes. “Do you really intend to take so many lives of your own accord?”
“Do you have my friend?” Di asks pointedly.
“I do not. This is the runic I obtained.”
Di’s eyes fall to former companion, and she almost falls backward in disbelief. “Fire!?”
Though still groggy, Fire manages to recognize Di’s form. “The brat…?”
Talkem raises his brow in surprise. “How strange. Do all you runics know each other?”
Di continues to express her disbelief. “Fire, you’re a runic!?”
The words pierce Fire and snap her from her daze. She glances around in confusion, silently trying to decipher the nature of the scenario as she finds her hands bound behind her back.
“Yes. This is a runic,” Talkem states.
Di puffs her cheeks. “Prove it.”
Talkem grabs Fire’s hand and punctures the tip of her finger on his blade, and he holds it out as blood drips onto his hand. Slowly, the blood turns to wet earth, and Di gasps at the sight.
Fire tugs at her captor and shouts, “Where am I? What’s going on, here!?”
“Does Era know? What’s Era doing!?” When she holds her tongue, Di stomps her foot and shouts, “Tell me, Fire!”
“Yes, he knows about me. And… he’s still pursuing you,” she replies.
The words have a profound impact on the short soldier, and a lump forms in her throat. “He’s still coming…?”
“Tell me, Diamond,” Talkem interjects, shoving Fire back to Rex, who gags her, “since I do not have your earth-shaping friend, will you allow me to take my leave?”
“W-What? Why would I-”
“It is clear you are not under any pertinent commands,” he explains. “Would you so willingly help your hated master collect another weapon?”
“Would I?” Di wonders as her heart sinks at the realization that Era isn’t here.
“I have a bonus,” he says, pointing to the sky boat as an Eagle member pulls Ospif out. “The king’s cousin. You will still be regarded a hero for saving him, even if you lose the runic.”
Ospif grunts from behind his gag as his eyes land on his former colleague. “Fmee!?”
“Ospif!?” she gasps.
“How is it you all know each other?” Talkem asks with a sigh. “Still, I need an answer. I am sure you are the first of incoming reinforcements, so time is of the essence. Withdraw immediately or the general will claim another runic, and any hope you had for his defeat will be lost.”
Di rests her palm against her forehead, her mind spinning with the sudden freedom of choice. Her intense hatred for Fire is a reminder of the betrayal she suffered at her hands, but, surprising even to herself, she wants to claim her more than she wants to be rid of the detestable eyesore. “No,” she whispers.
Talkem’s brow furrows. “What did you say?”
“I need her. Valvoren needs her.” She menacingly jabs a finger at Talkem and says, “You’re going to bring chaos to Valvoren. We need the runics to keep Alleria at bay.”
“So this is the brainwashing of the general?” he derides. “To fill you with the same ire for our neighbors that plagues our great commanding officer, himself? He is controlling you, Diamond. This time without a command.”
She forms her blades, her demeanor growing fiercer with each passing moment. “Give her to me.”
“You’re not the kitten we found a month ago,” Talkem growls.
“Give her to me,” she insists as she steps toward him.
Some of his men move aside for her, but others hold their ground. One charges forward and swings his sword at her, but she effortlessly ducks it, trips his foot, and slams him in the back of the head on his way down. Her motions are quick enough that few perceive her exact movements.
Talkem aggressively draws his sword. “Kill her!”
Though hesitant at first, the mob of combatants rush in on Di, but she surrounds herself with an impenetrable wall of air. Several of her opponents run hard into it and fall backward, dazed, while the rest slow and strike at it in vain with their swords. Her opponents halted, she drops the shield and plunges into the mob, methodically taking them down one-by-one with precise, blunt strikes to their heads. She slices through a couple blades before turning and forming another wall to block incoming combatants. Jumping against it, the nimble warrior flips over two aggressors and takes them down from behind.
Talkem watches in awe as she makes such quick work of his men, prompting some to wisely decide to throw down their weapons and retreat. “Cowards,” he mutters. “Eagle!”
“We’re with you!” Hyrel cries as he fires several volleys at her. She deflects the strikes with a shield of air as Talkem unleashes a blast of air into her, but she stands against it by thickening her barrier. Two of Eagle’s members swing around the wall, each with elemental blades of water, but Di effortlessly slices through their weapons with a single arm even while maintaining her barrier. When they try to grapple her, she laughs aloud as she releases the wall and allows all three of them to get blown away by Talkem’s gale. Once out of range, she instantly flips to her feet and returns to the air.
“Can men stand against these beasts?” Hyrel cries as he flings fireballs at her.
The Eagle member behind them cries out as Rex takes him out, freeing Marmela but releasing Fire to do so. Realizing his betrayal, Talkem takes the retreating runic’s feet out from under her with a precise blast of wind and proceeds to mercilessly pummel Rex and Marmela with a hurricane’s force.
Hyrel continues his fiery assault on Di by unleashing a wave of flames into her new trajectory. She hurries to the ground and surrounds herself with solidified air, where she takes pleasure in watching Hyrel’s barrage glance harmlessly off her shield.
A line of mounted troops appears from over the ridge, and Hyrel calls a warning to Talkem, who relents his assault on his former comrades and snatches the bound Fire. Hyrel forces the runic to her knees, and he presses his blade into her back to keep her pinned.
The mounted troops surround Talkem and his men, and Galen steers himself to stand next to Di as Marmela and Rex are slow to get up.
“About time,” Di grumbles at Opal, who is riding behind the commander.
“Hey, just because I can’t run through the sky!” He hops down, sniffs the air, and asks, “What’s that smell?”
“His fireballs singed my hair,” she gripes as she pulls at her tresses, and she mumbles to herself, “Ugh, long hair really does making fighting more difficult.”
Galen’s eyes fall to Praler before he fixes his gaze on his one-time peer. “You worthless scum! This fight is over. Lower your blade so you can at least die with dignity.”
Talkem grits his teeth. “If you want me dead, you’ll see the runic fall as well.”
Rex throws his hands in the air from afar. “About time! Where the devil have you been?” he cries. Talkem glares back at him with a snarl as he feels the impact of the betrayal.
Marmela jumps in front of their undercover spy and barks, “Why did you not act sooner, Rex!?”
He eases her back, grieved as he stutters, “Th-There were too many hostiles around me. I couldn’t-”
“You COWARD!” Marmela shrieks as she sinks her fist into Rex’s shoulder. “YOU WATCHED HER DIE!”
Galen swallows hard, again eyeing Praler and the other fallen soldiers he had seen mere hours
earlier, and he questions himself for taking so many forces at such a crucial moment.
“Sir, approaching troops,” a soldier reports, pointing toward two horses from the west.
“Go contain them,” he orders, and the riders dispatch as he refocuses on Talkem. “Thayo, it’s over. Your legacy is one of deceit and betrayal. Don’t also die a coward’s death.”
Talkem grunts as he resists resigning to his fate. Before he can craft a reply, a sudden explosion forces everyone to turn their attention to where Galen’s troops were just incinerated by the incoming aggressors, who are now almost upon the gathered forces.
“Who are they?” Galen shouts at Talkem, but he has no response.
Di moves to intercept them. She forms her blades and leaps at the bulky leader, even as he continues to ride his horse. He doesn’t react in time, and she cuts across his torso, expecting to slice him in two. However, sparks fly as her blade deflects off his body, and she tumbles as her balance is ruined. Though the runic is quick to get to her feet, the other rider veers next to her. “Goodbye,” the Allerian sneers, her hand extended. A powerful explosion erupts from her hand that consumes its victim.
Galen’s heart races as he watches Di take the attack. “Men! Form a line!” The remaining troops move into formation, and Galen looks to Opal and shouts, “Get to the front, soldier!”
The color is gone from Opal’s face. He remains frozen as his knees can do nothing but tremble. Galen grits his teeth as the two new arrivals dismount and approach. He glances to Talkem, but he’s as dumbfounded as anyone else present.
“Where’s the ice runic?” the fire maker shouts. “Bring ‘er out! I don’t want to accidentally toast her. You got ten seconds to comply!”
“Filthy Valvorans,” Peridot mumbles to himself as he tosses his cloak aside and unsheathes the mammoth broadsword strapped to his back.
“Just guard Talkem,” Galen orders Opal before turning his attention to his troops. “Split and attack!” he shouts, and they kick their steeds into a charge, half directing at Peridot and the other half at Ruby.
