by D N Meinster
Slythe’s appearance felt like an answer to his prayers, and the Roamer helped Aros back on his feet while Fash fell back, holding a hand to his seeping wound.
“I got him,” Slythe said before Aros could even try to attempt a “Thanks.”
Slythe easily dispensed of the few loyalists that charged at him before he reached Fash. His double-bladed sword was puncturing guts with ease, and the troops weren’t fast enough to block it even when they saw it coming.
Fash spat out some blood before whipping both of his empty chains at Slythe. They curled around his sword and he relieved the Roamer of it with a yank. It broke back into two pieces as the Hunter dragged it closer.
Slythe spun and shifted, reappearing next to one half of his weapon and snatching it back into his grasp. He made to toss it at Fash, but he’d gotten too close to the Hunter. Fash’s metallic fist rammed the side of his head.
Tonna fired her arrow at Loraya, but it stalled on its way to her, hovering in the air between them.
A blue mage had taken control of it from the outskirts of the battlefield.
“Azzer,” Tonna growled, and she nocked another arrow and sent it flying at him.
Aros flung his clawblade at Fash as he started wrapping a nearly unconscious Slythe in his chains. But a brave loyalist dove at the sword, slicing his own chest open while taking it down.
Fash grinned at Aros as he lifted Slythe up like a marionette.
“No,” Aros growled, and he targeted the Hunter with his armor.
Fash shook his head and moved Slythe in front of him. There was no way to hit Fash without hurting Slythe as well.
Aros stood helplessly indecisive with his arm ready but with no plan of his next action. They were at an impasse, with neither able to move without potentially aiding their enemy.
As they stood frozen, one of the loyalists near Fash raised his sword and, with a swift cut, decapitated Slythe as he hung from the chains.
Fash and Aros both watched as Slythe’s silvery head plunged to the ground.
“No!” Aros screamed while Fash lowered Slythe’s body.
Aros hit his armor with all five fingers and the beam devoured the Hunter and the loyalist that had murdered Slythe.
Tonna’s arrows were not hitting their target. Azzer appeared to be having fun with her, having them zoom into the burning Malaise Tracks or zigzag into the ground.
Transfixed by the mage, the loyalists seemed to forget about Loraya and she eventually managed to crawl out of their grasp. When one of them noticed, they were only able to glare at her before a bronze shield smacked them in the head.
Doren scooped up his shield and then picked up the clawblade. He looked at it with concern. “Where’s Aros?”
Loraya looked back toward him just before he was lost behind a wall of white.
Tonna was almost out of arrows when she finally ceased her attack. Azzer used the cessation to reach toward Malaise Tracks with his staff and take control of some of the flames. He pivoted his staff toward the Hunter, and the fire struck at her like a cornered octopod.
Doren leapt in front of Loraya and blocked the periphery of the attack with his shield. They felt the heat as Tonna was scorched by the attack.
Aros’ hand felt so heavy that it took extra effort to lift it off his arm. When he finally did, there was little left of Fash or his troopers. Smoking skeletons were piled around a black-and-white cloak that remained intact.
Seeing the Hunters defeated, the handful of loyalists that remained turned and ran from the battlefield. But their way was interrupted by Rikki. With a wave of her staff, the dirt and grass became like quicksand and swallowed up the remnants of Kahar’s army.
Rikki walked past the few hands that reached up from beneath the terrain and made a beeline straight to her boyfriend. She examined Tonna’s smoldering corpse before she noticed Loraya. “Where are the rest of the Revolutionaries?
Loraya stared into Rikki’s eyes before she dropped to the ground and howled.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Loraya’s Lament
Malaise Tracks was still aflame, and no one in the vicinity cared to even try to extinguish it. The sense of loss overwhelmed the survivors of the battle. Yet it was not the sight of blood and carnage that immobilized them, but what was missing in the aftermath of their war. The bodies left atop the high grasses and dry dirt all belonged to the same side: Kahar’s side. The dead Revolutionaries didn’t even leave behind corpses. They were forever lost.
Aros’ knees sank into the soil as he fell before Slythe’s body. He trembled as he lifted the cloak into his hands and bowed his head. Slythe had saved his life, but Aros had let him down. He didn’t know the Roamer well, but they had been allies. Why didn’t he see that murderer coming? Why didn’t he react quicker?
Aros peeked at the disturbing skeletons that surrounded him. He might not have saved Slythe, but at least he got vengeance for him. There was nothing left of his killers but bone.
Azzer knelt down next to Aros. “Slythe knew what he was getting into. Do not blame yourself.”
Aros might have disappointed Slythe, but he knew where the true blame lied. It was the Goddess that sent him here. It was Magenine that sent a Roamer to rescue him instead of saving him Herself.
He tried to roar at Her but nothing escaped his throat but a hoarse croak.
“Kwee!” Mr. Kwee mimicked him from his waist.
No time, She had said. Well, there was no time left for Slythe. He was dead.
Doren crossed the field until he reached Aros and Azzer. He knew from the motionless half-black, half-white cloak what he would find there, but he still needed to see for himself. He’d never felt closer to Slythe than he had in the last couple days. For him to have revealed that they were not only blood-related, but that Slythe was actually Aergo’s son, felt like it had established an immense bond between them. To have it broken so soon seemed like a cruel trick.
There was no face left to look into. It was merely a headless corpse encased in Amelia’s cloak.
“He told me everything,” Doren said as he looked on.
Azzer gawked at him. “So then, you are Roamers as much as you are Revolutionaries.”
Aros let go of the cloak and looked up at his friend. He spoke in a barely audible whisper. “I’m not.”
“Perhaps we should fill you in.” Azzer patted on the grass next to him. “Shall we?”
Rikki could hear Doren begin to explain the Roamer’s origins, but she already knew enough to continue her business. She surveyed the battleground, checking for survivors among the fallen. Yayne was the only one with a heartbeat. The rest were beyond hope.
She’d been too long in Valiant Keep. Or her magic had manipulated time to a calamitous degree. She’d rescued the mages in Kahar’s dungeons but doing so had sacrificed the last true Streamers. It was not a price she thought she’d have to pay. The risk was supposed to be hers, not theirs.
She stepped to the very edge of the world. The Revolutionaries were lost in the unseen lands; in Oblivion; in null space. There was no coming back from that darkness. Nearby, she saw the frayed chains that had once been tied to the Hunters’ mages. Whether intentionally or not, they’d staggered into the abyss as well.
Rikki tried sending a ball of light into Oblivion, but it vanished as soon as it touched the border. Whoever fell off didn’t end up anywhere besides the Bastion.
Loraya was curled up in a ball, her knees tucked in against her chest. She rocked back-and-forth as the adrenaline of combat deserted her and the realities of the present situation overwhelmed her mind.
Jemmy was dead. Kyer was dead. Skiff was dead. Nott was dead.
And Yayne was slowly dying, too.
All of her brothers.
Kahar had taken them from her.
And then there were the other Revolutionaries who’d been killed: Pats, Rogel, Tyet, Irinov, Chona.
Her entire family was gone.
So much of her life had been in thei
r company. Jemmy was essentially her father, having raised her after her parents had been killed. They died standing up to Kahar as he began to consolidate the tribes. Losing them had affected her in ways only her brothers could understand. All she could remember was the time that followed their deaths.
And the other Revolutionaries became her family, too. They joined when their tribes were being hijacked and they had nowhere else to go. CloudTrailers and MooseWranglers; HeartQuests and BedCairns; all were welcome in the newest tribe: the Revolutionaries. They were the only alternative to Kahar.
There were so many Revolutionaries once. Hundreds of them had packed into the caves of the Enduring Mountains. Even the stone spiders dared not to meddle with them. Despite what was going on in greater Terrastream, there were many celebrations back then. They all felt like they had escaped something awful.
It was only when the Roamers came and Kahar invaded the mountains that the significance of their quandary became clear. They could no longer hide and pretend everything was fine. They had to take action.
That was when their numbers started to dwindle. After they’d found refuge in Fusion Forest, the Revolutionaries plotted a course back to the mountains; to the keep itself. Revolt-after-revolt failed, but her brothers always made it back. And so did she.
Now, they were all gone. From hundreds, they were down to two. She couldn’t count the Kytherans or the Roamers. They were allies but not Streamers. There were only two real Streamers left.
Loraya’s eyes began to burn and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Their tree of remembrance had burned away. There weren’t bodies to present for the day of reminiscence. They’d left her nothing but an empty feeling in her very soul.
Azzer finished describing the origins of their cloaks as he began to remove one from Slythe’s body.
Doren reached for Azzer’s hand. “What are you doing?”
“Slythe bestowed Yuurei’s cloak to Amelia’s heir,” he said. “I believe he would want you to have his.”
Doren lifted his fingers off Azzer. “I already have this.” He tapped a finger on his armor.
Azzer finished removing it, leaving Slythe’s body in his draws. He folded the cloak into a perfect square and stood back up. “Do what you wish with it, but it is yours.” He presented the cloth to Doren.
Doren got back on his feet and accepted the cloak, even as he stared at it, confounded. “Do these things have storage?” he asked Aros while examining the layout of his armor.
Aros gave him a shrug before getting up.
The three of them stood over Slythe’s body while Azzer positioned the top of his staff over the corpse. “Though M’dalla may insist she’d want to witness this, I think it best she didn’t.”
Aros’ guilt only worsened at the mention of his friend. He’d let her down by not protecting her boyfriend. All those times she’d save him in Belliore and he couldn’t even manage a similar feat.
Aros touched the tear dripping from his eye before wiping it away. The number of people he’d let down was starting to weigh on him.
“May you rest beside your father, here, in Terrastream,” Azzer solemnly stated. The channeling crystal began to glow and he touched it to Slythe’s remains, which faded the instant it made contact.
Doren observed the only relative he’d known besides his father disappear from the land. Why couldn’t Slythe have told him sooner? He wanted to spend more time with him; to know him better. All he had left of him was a cloak that he didn’t even need. He tucked it beneath his arm and looked to Rikki.
Rikki made her way over to Yayne, who’d been abandoned amidst the carnage. He remained unconscious, but he was breathing. She stroked the channeling crystal on her staff until it was more luminous than the nearby fire, and she touched it to Yayne’s heart.
The light swam over his skin like fish playing in a lake, and, within a minute, Yayne’s eyes were back open. They were crooked and unfocused at first, but the light eventually reached and healed them as well.
Yayne searched around as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was. “What...happened?”
Rikki didn’t want to be the one to tell him, but who else would? She couldn’t leave that to Loraya or her friends. So she told Yayne what had happened to the Revolutionaries and he puked all over himself.
Loraya was torn from her dark thoughts by the sound of her brother vomiting. She turned to see that Yayne was sitting upright and appeared to be completely awake. “Yayne,” she whispered before taking to her feet and rushing toward him.
When she reached him, she wanted to hug him, but the spew across his chest prevented her from getting close.
“Sorry,” Yayne said, and he started wiping his chest with his bare hand.
“You’re making it worse,” Loraya stated with the hint of a smile.
“I can help with that,” Azzer said as he came up to them. He flicked the top of his staff and a stream of water soaked Yayne’s torso.
Once he was cleaned off, Loraya didn’t hesitate embracing her brother. Yayne squeezed her in return and the two of them stood in each other’s arms while the remaining survivors gathered around them.
Aros glanced at Doren and Rikki. He needed to tell them what he was hearing, but his voice was barely audible.
“It’s a bit late for introductions,” the blue mage said once they’d all reached Yayne, “but I’m Azzer.”
“Aros,” he squeaked, subsequently pointing at his throat.
“Here,” Rikki said, and she touched the channeling crystal to his neck.
Less than a minute later, he was able to thank Rikki with his full voice.
“Oh, yeah,” Aros said, retrieving Rikki’s necklace and holding it out to her. “Why’d you give me this?”
“I wanted to know it was out there waiting for me,” Rikki replied, taking possession of it. “In case Kahar somehow got the better of me.” She glanced at Doren as she put it back in place around her neck. “And so you’d know I’d come back.”
“What do we do now?” Doren asked. Was anyone still intending to partake in a revolution? They would truly be meddling if they decided to overthrow Kahar on their own. He no longer had any viable opposition. The King had won.
“We can’t let Kahar remain in power,” Rikki insisted. She stroked her regrown hair, recalling how violated she’d felt when it’d been plucked from her head. There was no way they could allow a monster to stay in charge.
“We still don’t know where the fourth Key is,” Aros reminded them. “Isn’t finding it why we’re here?”
“We haven’t seen Hatswick,” Doren stated. “Maybe he already has Terrastream’s Key.”
“Does he?” Aros asked aloud, hoping that he’d get an answer from the Goddess.
Rikki and Doren seemed to instantly understand what Aros’ question implied.
Aros nodded. As long as those two were around, he could speak about it in front of anyone.
“She’s speaking to you again?” Rikki wanted clarification.
“Yes,” Aros replied. “Though She doesn’t always answer.” She remained silent on Hatswick’s whereabouts.
“What has She told you?” Doren asked.
Loraya finally broke away from Yayne as she tried to grasp what the Kytherans were discussing. “Who are you referring to?”
“The Goddess,” Aros said, unable to look at Loraya to see her reaction.
“Magenine?”
Aros remembered telling Leidess about the voice those many decks again. He’d been hesitant, but if there was anyone in the kingdom he could’ve trusted, it was her. Leidess offered to help him right away, and she stayed with him that night to make sure he got some sleep.
Perhaps it was because they didn’t know each other that well, but he couldn’t imagine Loraya accepting that he was hearing the Goddess. He could only figure she’d be skeptical and probably alarmed. For some reason, this hurt him in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend.
There was a drawn-out silence
after Loraya’s question before Doren spoke up. “What has She said?”
“She told me that the other Revolutionaries were here, at Malaise Tracks. And She’s said there’s no time.”
“No time for what?” Azzer asked, intrigued by Aros’ revelation.
Aros thought back to his dream, where the Door was opening. Were they out of time? Was Neanthal going to be victorious?
Instead of mentioning what he’d seen, he only said, “She hasn’t explained.”
Loraya didn’t know much about this goddess, as Streamers tended not to worship what they couldn’t see. But if Aros was speaking honestly, then Magenine wasn’t a folktale creation made up as a rival to Neanthal. She was as real as the boy in front of her.
She had no reason to doubt Aros’ words, though she wondered why Magenine would speak to him directly. If She was capable of such feats, why didn’t She just speak to everyone?
As she stared at him, Aros refused to look back at her. Was he embarrassed by this information? Or was it something else?
“Ask Her if we should overthrow Kahar,” Doren said.
“We don’t need Her permission,” Rikki responded. “We are going to.”
Doren and Rikki both glared at each other. Then they smiled and pecked each other on the lips.
“Looks like I missed the party.”
All heads turned to see that M’dalla had shifted back to their location. She showed off her recently repaired flail as she moved toward Aros. “Ratch was relieved to hear that you’re still alive. He wants to know – ”
She froze as she realized who was missing from the group. Her eyes caught onto the cloak folded beneath Doren’s arm.
“Slythe,” she said with a hushed ferocity as her eyes watered. “What happened?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Invasion
10 D.R.
Dawn was approaching, but they would not wait until first light to begin. Legions of men and women lined up on the beaches of Noon, some bearing torches, others letting the moons and stars guide them. Most had both sword and shield in their possession, their weapons enchanted to be unbreakable. Though there were nearly two thousand of them getting ready, they remained quiet so that the gentle waves were easily perceivable as they got into position. Across the seas, the outline of Castle Tornis was barely visible. Before Neanthal, Kytheras had been awash in light at all hours. As the years of the Dark Reign went by, night prevailed until only darkness remained.
