War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6

by Araya Evermore

  They stared at the tiny flower before Issa tucked it back into her pocket. ‘This is just the beginning…But let’s not waste time. Do you think it wise to try and combine the two orbs I carry?’

  ‘I now think it was unwise to ever separate the magic in the first place,’ said Yisufalni. ‘I know not what will happen when they are one, but for all that’s occurring in this world, we must try. It might not be possible to combine them, but I was involved in the making of them, the only one to still be alive.’

  ‘We can but try.’ Issa slipped the orbs out of their pouches and held them up.

  Rather than take them, Yisufalni placed her hand gently on top of each, closed her eyes and entered the Flow. Issa did the same. Magic moved powerfully around the two orbs and they began to make a beautiful humming sound.

  ‘Look,’ Yisufalni spoke softly, ‘feel them already pulling together? The orbs want to be rejoined. Earth and Water are two different elements but always they exist together. Apart, they are nothing, their power is less. Listen, can you hear them talking? They’re telling us how to combine them. They’re guiding us. Give in to them. Let them lead us.’

  Issa surrendered to the power of the orbs. A strange language of notes and symbols filled her ears and vision. The pure language of magic vibrated the deepest parts of her being. The magic grew, filling her with light, power and elation.

  Things she didn’t know about the Orb of Earth became known to her. The nature of earth magic, the way bark grew and hardened around a tree, the movement of rocks, and the existence of vast crystal caverns deep within Maioria herself.

  The Orb of Water also spoke to her of many things—some it had already told her when she had become its Keeper, others were new. She discovered vast ocean-filled crystal caverns deep underground. Thousands of aquifers existed there, and Maioria was not just a solid rock spinning in the vastness of space at all. The rocks and crystals were her bones, the water, magma and other liquids her blood. The planet was alive, but she was hurt and wanted to heal. The elemental powers Issa held in her hands desired to be one so that the planet could heal.

  ‘We are one,’ the orbs whispered, again and again.

  Suddenly Issa knew what she had to do, and she knew Yisufalni did too. She poured the Flow through her hands into the orbs and felt Yisufalni do the same. In the Flow, the orbs flared all colours of the rainbow. They began to lose their solidity until they were no longer physical objects at all but dense balls of golden and turquoise energy. They elongated towards each other like lovers reaching out after millennia apart.

  Their energy touched. White light blazed where golden and turquoise combined. The orbs were feeling each other, remembering each other. The light grew brighter, flaring like a fire but without the heat, and the air vibrated and hummed. Pearlescent gold, silver and turquoise glittered in hues Issa had never seen before nor imagined existed.

  A different vibration captured her attention, almost breaking it. She couldn’t lose her focus now and ignored it, continuing to pour the Flow through her hands. The vibration came again, harder and more like a jolt. It wasn’t coming from the orbs. She frowned and pushed it away. The orbs were nearly fully combined now, their energies swirling together in a greater ball of light.

  Issa jumped as thunder cracked and black streaks of lightning snaked beyond the light of the orbs. The orbs flared, refusing to pause their destiny. She was unable to take her hands from them even if she tried. She couldn’t even see Yisufalni for the brightness, but she could still feel her there, channeling her magic into the orbs. The black streaks vanished and the thunder faded. The orbs gave a final burst of light, and the Flow pouring through her hands dropped to a trickle.

  Issa let go of the Flow, finding her hands and Yisufalni’s now clasped around a singular orb. The Ancient looked as faint as she felt. Slowly, Issa lowered herself to the ground. Yisufalni followed, both keeping their hands locked onto the orb.

  They stared at the beautiful object they held. Gone were the Orbs of Earth and Water. Gone, too, were the swirling energies on the surface. Instead they beheld a different orb entirely. This new crystal flared purple and indigo rays from its centre, like the iris of an eye, or the flaring sun. It was the same size as the previous orbs, and the same weight, but it was twice as powerful, Issa could feel it.

  ‘Something has happened in its making. I feel a part of it now more than I did with the Orb of Water alone,’ whispered Issa, not wanting to mar the awe-filled silence but struggling to understand her strange feelings towards the object of power.

  ‘Two become three become one. We have helped birth something new into existence and in its creation we have become part of them,’ explained Yisufalni.

  Issa nodded her head, understanding her intrinsically. ‘Then we are both its Keeper?’

  ‘I guess that must be the truth.’ Yisufalni did not lift her gaze from the orb. ‘But what is it called? It has a new name…Listen, can you hear it? It’s a vibration. It is Illendri. In our ancient language a similar word means ‘The One’.

  ‘Illendri,’ Issa breathed, feeling the wholeness of the word. The orb flared as she spoke its name. ‘For the one it has become. The symbol of all things being rejoined. Take it, Yisufalni, take it to the astral planes or to Murlonius. Take it far away from here and hide it.’ Issa tried to push it to the other women but Yisufalni shook her head.

  ‘No, we are hunted too. The Knights of Maphrax—ahh, your look of horror tells me you’ve seen them. I knew you would have. Baelthrom’s hunters.’

  Issa didn’t want to think of them in this moment. ‘They came for me a few times; in the bath in Teramides and again on the battlefield—they can reach me anywhere and I must run. Even in the Realm of the Dead they follow me and I cannot fight them.’ Issa’s throat constricted at the memory, her mind seeing horsemen made of shadow and scales.

  ‘No one can fight them, Issa. They came for us too, that’s why I’m here. I told you we fled. Baelthrom’s Knights of Maphrax whose souls live in the Dark Rift and are lost forever.’

  Issa imagined a horse screaming in the distance, black eyes leaking smoke, shadows becoming swords and armour. A hand reached towards her and she shivered. A hand with a ring, and on the ring, a horse…

  The Flow jolted suddenly, breaking her out of her terrible memories. The air shimmered where they sat, the telltale sign of another wizard arriving. They jumped up and Yisufalni stuffed the orb into Issa’s pouch. Before Issa could protest, Freydel appeared. The wizard’s ashen face was a mix of fear and anger.

  12

  Falling Circles

  ‘What have you two done!’ Freydel roared.

  His eyes were bloodshot and he clearly hadn’t combed his hair or beard in days. He looked thin and utterly bedraggled.

  Issa stepped back. Yisufalni laid a hand on her arm. The Ancient stood tall, her back straight, her melodic voice calm yet commanding.

  ‘My dear Freydel, we have done what the orbs commanded us to do.’

  ‘You have endangered everyone!’ Freydel virtually screamed, almost mad. Had the wizard lost his sanity as well as his cool?

  The air shimmered and that strange magical jolt came again. Issa frowned and looked around. Where was it coming from?

  A light beamed down from the sky striking the Wizards’ Tower where they had just been sitting. Issa stared at it. It didn’t feel dangerous, just had a peculiar magical signature. In the pillar of light, a tall, slender being swiftly formed.

  Issa stared up into the serene, alien, golden face of Ayeth. He was at least seven feet tall. Her legs gave way and she sank to the ground, all the magic dissipating from her grasp. Yisufalni was frozen to the spot, all colour draining from her face. Freydel, in the presence of his beloved teacher, regained his sanity and composure and rolled his shoulders back.

  Ayeth did not take his deep blue gaze from Issa. Slowly, an enigmatic smile formed on his flawless features. ‘You are the one who is trying to stop it,’ he said.

 
Issa realised he spoke an entirely different language and only recognised one of the Aralansian words, but he somehow had the power to make her understand him.

  ‘You cannot be here,’ Issa whispered, her voice an ugly rasp compared to his. He was regal and calm, poised and elegant.

  Her mind and emotions churned in turmoil. Here was the one who had started it all. Here was the cause of the death of her family, her friends, and the destruction of her homeland. Here stood the being who had destroyed her life in this and lifetimes past, and yet all she could see was wisdom, benevolence, beauty.

  With a sinking feeling, she realised she could never, ever kill Ayeth. In that moment, hope for the end of it all died a little—for she must stop him so that Maioria might live.

  ‘He helped me arrive here safely,’ Freydel said, smiling proudly, his character calm and vastly different to when he had arrived. ‘Now we must undo what you have done. This war must end and only Ayeth can stop it.’

  ‘The orbs stay combined,’ Issa said through clenched teeth.

  Ayeth walked towards her. With an honest, benevolent smile he held out a hand.

  Issa’s heart thumped in her chest as a thousand thoughts and emotions battled within her.

  ‘I was chosen as are you,’ Ayeth said.

  For a moment it seemed only she and him existed. Images, memories, feelings flooded into her, both of her life and his. His words unlocked a watershed of emotion, tears and pain. She wiped at the tears, struggling for composure.

  Zanufey had chosen him and he had fallen. Now he stood here with her, the great being before it all changed. Was she going to fall too? Could Zanufey even be trusted? Slowly, she reached to take his hand. As their palms touched memory jolted through her.

  She witnessed again the destruction of Aralansia, the screaming people, the vast and terrible energies ripping apart the planet. Then she saw Zanufey on the blue desert beneath a star filled sky, the hopes and fears of an entire race within her, and within Issa and within Ayeth.

  Was there any hope for Ayeth? Was there any way to save him? If she killed him now, all this would end and Maioria would be free.

  But as she stared into his fathomless eyes, she only saw herself reflected. A being given a grand yet terrible task. A being filled with devotion and power, and bringing into him all the pain and suffering of a world so that he might help it.

  They had both been chosen; he to save another race, and she to save her own from what he had become.

  Compassion swept over her. Could she help this man? An incredible need to assist him and stop him from falling filled her, just as it had when she fought Keteth and Zanufey stepped into her being. Could she bring this man home like she had Keteth?

  Thunder peeled and black lightning flared, splitting the sky apart and tearing her out of her thoughts and memories.

  Issa glanced up at a sky no longer blue but filled with racing, muddy clouds. Wind tore around them, not fresh but stale and heavy.

  ‘The shield is breaking!’ Yisufalni screamed.

  A great crack appeared in the shield, as if they were under a huge dome of glass about to shatter.

  ‘Ayeth, you must leave this place,’ said Freydel running to his side. ‘It’s Baelthrom, and you must not meet!’

  Ayeth stared up at the sky frowning but he still held Issa’s hand. He turned his gaze upon her. Beyond him, Freydel lifted his black orb and crystal staff, and incanted. The erratically moving Flow surged to do the Master Wizard’s bidding, and then Ayeth began to fade. The Aralan looked confused. In this place, the Master Wizard of the Wizards’ Circle held the most power. Right now, Issa doubted even she could match Freydel’s strength.

  The shield above shattered. They fell to their knees, except Ayeth, his partially material body remained unaffected by the explosion. He stared up, mesmerised, they all did.

  Black energy poured through the shattered shield towards the Wizards’ Tower as if being channelled through a giant funnel. It struck the tower, and cracks snaked beneath them. In the swirling black, another being began to form.

  Fear iced the air. Issa’s heart beat heavy and slow as time slowed down. Demon wings spread wide and a tripartite helmet appeared as the enormous shape of Baelthrom materialised.

  Issa gasped. Ayeth became fainter as Baelthrom solidified. Ayeth looked from his abominable future self back to her. Fear narrowed his eyes, and his gaze was searching. Was he asking her to do something? He disappeared, and she became aware of Yisufalni screaming something and dragging her to her feet. But Issa moved in a detached, sluggish haze.

  Dark blue eyes, like the colours of Ayeth’s, blazed to life within that helmet. If Freydel had had any power before, the Flow was gone now.

  In a daze that placed her beyond terror, Issa let Yisufalni pull her back but she could not tear her eyes from her enemy. Ehka squawked madly from somewhere, she had forgotten all about the bird. Her raven talisman burned at her side, and Illendri pulsed. The Under Flow surrounded all, there was nothing to protect them from Baelthrom.

  Issa lifted her hands. It seemed foolish to try, but the magic of the orb and the talisman willed her to. A wall of fire rolled towards Baelthrom. He stepped forwards, a clawed lizard foot stepping out of the black cloud. The Under Flow responded and shattered her wall, sucked the magic into itself, and doubled in strength as it slammed back into her. She fought it, spreading her arms wide to push it back but the Flow was an uncontrollable mess.

  The hurricane of magic shunted her backwards. Her power was not nearly enough. She realised she was screaming. The blackness pouring from the sky filled Baelthrom with magic she could never hope to match.

  He stepped forwards again and lifted his other hand. Black magic ripped into her, throwing her backwards, a doll spinning head over heel into the air.

  Time speeded up.

  Helpless, she tumbled over the edge of the Wizards’ Tower. Lightning flared and she tried to reach for her raven form but it was impossible to call.

  The ground sped towards her.

  Something large and blue streaked in her vision, something huge clasped around her waist. Dazed, she looked up at huge ice-blue scales. Her eyes travelled over the enormous body to stare into the huge golden eyes of Morhork. The claw that gripped her was blackened, hurt from when he tried to take the orb. They were airborne but he had no wings, instead, great magical forces flared around them. Powerful dragon magic. But even Morhork floundered under the assault of the Under Flow.

  Dragon magic surged, a gale blew, and everything became a blur. New forces overwhelmed her.

  Yisufalni stared at the fading form of Ayeth. He was a Great One, the Ancient’s ancestors of old whose power far surpassed their own. Beside him the ugly form of Baelthrom took shape—the terrible being that the Aralan would become.

  She tried to catch Issa as the incredible force of the Under Flow knocked the Raven Queen backwards, but her body failed to obey her mind, and the Flow was ripped away in the maelstrom onslaught.

  Ayeth disappeared and her eyes locked onto Baelthrom’s. He held a wooden staff, a wizards’ staff. Freydel’s old staff, is that how he’d found them? The staff would always be linked to its wizard.

  Yisufalni understood that she could not run, and the cold terror paralysing her abated in that realisation. An odd calm stole over her and her heart pounded less; she faced her death and there was no running from it. She would face the inevitable with calm dignity.

  In these moments of calm acceptance, the roaring of wind and magic melted away and time slowed down. Her capable mind worked fast, seeing the unfolding of events that had led up to this point, and now to her inevitable death.

  In a final act of defiance, she used the last of her magic to shove Issa away from Baelthrom, lifting her high into the air. Death would be better than enslavement if the Raven Queen could not break her fall.

  Yisufalni had known the wingless dragon lay hidden, she’d felt him arrive while she looked into her sacred pool, and had even sensed hi
s murderous plans, not unto herself, but to others. Wizards and orbs. His mind was consumed with wizards and orbs! But she had not expected him to help.

  Her eyes widened as he streaked behind and below Baelthrom, out of view of the Immortal Lord’s gaze, and captured Issa in his talons. Yisufalni marvelled at events, at redemption—perhaps Morhork could be forgiven. The universe had an enormous amount of leeway when it came to doing wrong. Too much, she felt.

  Her eyes travelled back to the gnarled old wooden staff in Baelthrom’s hands. With it, he had followed Freydel. All objects formed a link to their owners, especially magical ones. Baelthrom would know this as well as any magic user. That was why he carried the staff with him now. But he would not have been able to enter the Wizards’ Circle, or even find it, had Ayeth not come there first. For Baelthrom and Ayeth were the same being separated only by time. The shield would not have known to stop one and not the other.

  Freydel had, unwittingly, led Baelthrom here, and Baelthrom was exceedingly clever. But she could not hate Freydel for that, the wizard’s intentions were pure, he thought he was doing good, and intention was everything. She found she could not even hate Baelthrom, not even now.

  With some surprise, she watched the wizard not turn and run from Baelthrom, but stand his ground, his body trembling as he tried to speak with the Lord of Immortals. An admiral act, Yisufalni thought, but from the raging black magic surging through Baelthrom, this was not a being to be reasoned with.

  The black magic consumed Yisufalni, and within it four horsemen stood.

  The Under Flow smashed into the Wizards’ Circle, cutting off Freydel’s incantation. The ground split apart and the stone seats that had stood there for millennia exploded into rocks and dust, hurling Freydel over the edge. Barely hanging on to his staff and his mind, Freydel managed to cushion his deathly fall. He rolled on the grass at the edge of the forest beneath the tower, and lay there.