by Sam Ferguson
Icadion, the All-Father, was bleeding from his left arm, and he appeared weakened as he leaned upon a large staff. Icadion cast his eyes about the battlefield and when he turned once more to his son his words finally became clear in Jonathan’s ears. “The demons are too strong,” he said. “We must pull back.”
“Father, no!” Lysander cried. “If we leave, then we will be abandoning the world to the Four Horsemen.”
“It is too late,” Icadion shouted. “The Sacred Dark has been unleashed upon the land by your brother, and there is nothing we can do now to stop it from spreading.”
Off in the distance there was laughter as a massive blue demon with wings of fire swept his blade through an army of men. Scores fell with one swing, their screams filling the air for only a moment before the demon’s crimson heart of crystal glowed bright and pulled their souls in. For a moment it occurred to Jonathan to be afraid, but almost as soon as the instinct arose it was swept away as Jonathan recalled who he was standing with.
“Soulfin grows stronger with every life he takes,” Icadion said. “Only the Four Horsemen can stop him!”
“NO!” Lysander shouted. “I will not leave these people. I have grown among them, and come to love them.” His face was strong, but passionate as he spoke of the peoples of Terramyr, and Jonathan marveled that he could be witnessing this moment. What was the magic that Orin had trapped in that notebook of his?!
“We can create a new world!” Icadion shouted. “Do not let your emotions rule you. You are a god, act like one!”
Lysander stood and drew his powerful sword, the very sword with lay before Jonathan’s feet – the feet that had been left behind with the rest of his physical body. Jonathan’s eyes were trained on that sword, knowing that it somehow held the key to discovering what Captain Ziegler had been working toward.
“For the first time in my life, I am acting like one,” Lysander declared. “I will not leave!”
A four-legged beast lunged at Icadion from the side, but the All-Father turned and drove his spear into the demon’s head, killing it instantly and spraying the ground with a shower of black blood as the spear exploded through the creature’s head. The creator of Terramyr then flung the corpse back toward a group of twelve such demons before calling down seven bolts of lightning that blasted through the others.
“My energy is spent,” Icadion said. “Even a god must rest. If you stay here, I will be forced to leave you behind. Hildervahl will close Bifrost as soon as I have crossed back to Volganor.”
“Then, until we meet again, Father,” Lysander said. He turned back to the battlefield and rushed down the hill. Jonathan found that he was swept along as Lysander moved from the place where the vision had started. It felt strange, as though he were flying, or perhaps swimming, and he felt light and peaceful despite the sounds and smells of the battle that raged about him. All around him, men, elves, dwarves, and other creatures threw themselves endlessly at the creatures spewing forth from the bowels of hell. A nine-foot tall ogre charged Lysander, wielding a club, but the divine being easily dodged the blow and countered with a single thrust of his sword to the ogre’s neck. Dark blood ran down the enchanted blade for only a second before Lysander used the magic to call down a massive storm of lightning that blasted the ogre’s body away from him.
“We can’t let that thing through!” someone shouted from Lysander’s right. Jonathan turned and saw Jaeger, recognizing the powerful gnome warrior he had seen back at the ruined city. “That demon will crush everything if he crosses the mountains,” Jaeger shouted.
A goblin rushed in, screaming and wailing as it readied its axe, but Jaeger turned and drove his spear into the green-skinned warrior’s face and forced the goblin to the ground.
A tall orc stepped in to attack Jaeger while the gnome yanked his spear free, but there was a wet, thabunk! The orc went rigid and then fell to the side, revealing a stout dwarf with a look about him nearly as fierce as that of the gods themselves.
“I’m with you if you want to make a run for the thing,” the dwarf called out.
Lysander nodded. “We may not win, but we can at least give the others time to pull back. They can form a better defensive line within the Nahktun Mountains. In the open field, the demon is unstoppable, but in the narrow crags the others might be able to bring it down.”
“Well, if the three of you are about to commit suicide, then I suppose I had better join you,” a voice rang out over the din of battle.
Lysander turned to see a tall elf and smiled. “Lysander and the warriors three, it has a good ring to it,” he said with a nod.
“I prefer Yaen and his lackeys, but I suppose you can name the group just this once,” the elf replied. Jonathan gasped, finally recognizing the elf which stood so tall and proud with Lysander. Jonathan’s own memories of Yaen were of an elf largely broken in mind and body, but this… this was a warrior he would have loved to have known.
Lysander turned and watched as the demon swept through a contingent of cavalry numbering at least fifty strong. “We have to sound the retreat. The more he kills, the stronger he becomes.”
Wings beat the air overhead and then the ground shook as a beautiful female with wings as strong as a dragon’s and as bright as the stars dropped to the dirt before Lysander and bowed to him. Jonathan immediately recognized Nagé, the goddess which collected the souls of the blessed. “My prince, it is not my place to command you, but I must remind you that Soulfin can kill you.”
Lysander smirked. “The demon can do more than that,” Lysander said. “He can destroy the entire world.”
“You brother Atek is defeated. If you return with us, we can protect Volganor from Soulfin. There is no need to risk your life, my prince.”
Lysander summoned lightning and fire to sweep aside a small number of orcs and goblins that were marching up the hill toward him and the others. “Soulfin doesn’t only destroy the bodies of those he kills, he is eating their souls. I cannot run away from such an abomination.”
Nagé nodded. “Neither can I,” she said.
“Nagé, if you stay here, Bifrost will close without you.”
“I have three hundred Valkyries at my command.” She rose and stretched her wings proudly while stamping the butt of her silver spear on the ground. “I was given the task of collecting the honorable dead from Terramyr. That is not a duty I can reject now. If you stay, then I stay as well.”
A flash of silver split the air between them, accompanied by a crash of thunder. A tall man in a green cloak stepped out from the light, holding a pair of spears. As Lysander brought his arm away from his eyes he motioned for the others to stay their weapons. Each of the warriors present lowered their arms a bit, but no one put them away. Forgetting that he was only the witness to a memory of the far distant past, Jonathan called out to Reshem. His voice sounded strange, as though he were speaking into a goblet. As the conversation continued among these legendary heroes, Jonathan drew closer to Reshem and examined his face carefully, remembering the first time he had seen him in the depths of the elven city where Miranda had been taken from him.
“I thought you couldn’t interfere,” Lysander said.
“I have two spears,” Reshem said, avoiding the other question. “They are made with the horn of a special ram. The golden horns come from a realm far from here, and they are able to destroy beings made from Sacred Dark.”
Nagé’s mouth fell open and she glanced to Lysander.
“Are you saying this can slay the demon?” Lysander asked, ignoring Nagé’s uncomfortable stare.
“I believe so,” Reshem said.
“He doesn’t sound that confident,” the dwarf put in before hocking a loogie and spitting it out onto the ground.
“I have enough confidence that I am willing to go into battle with you,” Reshem said. He held out one of the spears for Lysander. “If I am right, then this horn can not only slay Soulfin, but it will destroy his very soul. More than that, this weapon has the power t
o fight with ghosts.”
“Ghosts, why would we want that ability?” Jaeger shouted. “The tall one is mad.” Jaeger made a circling gesture with his finger beside his head and crossed his eyes.
“The orcs that die, are their spirits not gathered into an army in Hammenfein?” Reshem asked.
Lysander nodded, his enthusiasm visibly growing. “So if Hatmul decides to unleash the ghost armies, we will have a way to defend ourselves.”
“If Hatmul unleashes thousands of ghosts, two spears isn’t going to do much of anything,” the dwarf said.
“We don’t have much time,” Reshem said.
Lysander looked to the others and then back to Reshem. “What about the other Watchers?”
Reshem smirked and offered a shrug as his only answer. “You should take the spear.”
Lysander tossed his sword to Jaeger. “See that you take care of this.”
The gnome caught the blade and gave it a practice swing. “It will be an honor to fight alongside you.”
Lysander shook his head. “Change of plans. I have Nagé and Reshem at my side. Drenylin,” he gestured toward the dwarf and then pointed to Yaen and Jaeger, “you three help the armies retreat. See that you lead them to safety across the mountains. The Valkyries will assist you.”
Drenylin and Jaeger started to protest, but Yaen stepped in. “This is the wisest action. We can save many if we act quickly.”
“I shall have the Valkyries cut a swath through Atek’s armies, and then the others will be able to make a run for the mountains,” Nagé said. The tall goddess closed her eyes and bowed her head. A moment later Valkyries filled the sky and flew in unison. It was a sight both terrible and beautiful, and Jonathan stared with eyes wide.
Lysander offered a final nod to his friends, and then he, Nagé, and Reshem held hands.
“This might sting a bit,” Reshem mentioned. A flash of silver light blinded Jonathan as the ground fell away below him. The wind ripped at his hair and clothes and then everything stopped, as if the world had come to a complete stand still. Jonathan looked down as another flash of silver light deposited him in the air a few feet above Soulfin’s head. Nagé flew out to the side, her wings gliding effortlessly as she pulled a bow and began firing at the blue-skinned beast below.
Jonathan watched, as though resting upon a cloud not twenty meters from the great demon’s head as Lysander, second son of Icadion, fell through the air and pointed his spear downward, hoping to land a solid blow and drive his weapon through the demon’s skull. A second flash of silver exploded off to the side, and Jonathan could just make out Reshem as the tall man lunged in for Soulfin’s ankle.
Time moved slowly at first. A fall that should have spanned only a second or two seemed to stretch out for much longer as the demon turned his head upward. Nagé’s arrows flew sluggishly through the air, spinning and turning at a fraction of the rate they should have.
Inexplicably, time lurched forward. The arrows zipped downward and Lysander crashed into the demon’s head, only the spear did not penetrate the beast’s skull. Instead, the tip of the ram’s golden horn tore through the thin layer of flesh and then bounced off the solid skull beneath. The demon took a swipe at Lysander, forcing the god to leap out of the way. It was then that Jonathan remembered the stories he had heard from his Memaw’s lips on cold winter nights when they had been stuck in doors as children. Lysander had been sent to Terramyr by his father on a special mission, and as part of that mission, had become mortal. He was in very real peril, despite his divine origins. It was a seventy foot drop to the ground, but Nagé was there in an instant, catching Lysander and then darting back and away from Soulfin as the creature swatted at her with one of his fiery wings. The wing itself missed, but it created a wake of searing hot air that forced Nagé to fly even farther away.
“Reshem is down there, we have to get in for another attack,” Lysander cried out.
He watched as Reshem stabbed Soulfin’s ankle twice, spraying blood that looked more like glowing, red-hot magma out onto the ground.
The demon raised his foot and moved to stomp Reshem into oblivion, but the Watcher vanished, teleporting before the foot could drop. A flash of silver opened up in Nagé’s path and the goddess let out a startled scream before trying to turn to the side. Reshem reached out and grabbed Lysander’s forearm and in another flash of light the two were transported away, leaving Nagé flying alone in the air.
Reshem deposited Lysander on Soulfin’s left side, forty yards away from the demon, and then he smiled at the god. Though not immediately near the two men, Jonathan could hear the next words spoken, and felt as though he could also discern every nuance of the expressions displayed by each of them.
“I will draw his eyes,” Reshem said, “Wait for your moment, and then strike.”
At that moment, Soulfin turned and focused on Nagé. An orb of black formed in the beast’s open mouth, and Jonathan felt he knew what would happen next. The demon would unleash a powerful spell that would suck the living soul out of any creature it touched. A sense of dread and utter hopelessness swept over Jonathan. It was a sensation more powerful than any he had ever felt before, and he wished he could hide himself body and soul from what was growing between that demon’s lips.
Lysander stood to call for Nagé, but Reshem teleported to her and snatched her away in an instant, pulling her out of harm’s way just as the black orb shot out from Soulfin’s mouth, crackling with electrical energy as it grew and tore through the air.
A flash of silver appeared high in the sky over the demon, and then there was a second just atop the demon’s shoulder. Lysander had to keep from shouting out as Reshem drove his spear into the base of the demon’s neck. Soulfin spun around, but Reshem had already teleported down to the ground. A moment later Soulfin roared angrily as Reshem tore a gash in the demon’s foot. Nagé fired several enchanted arrows from above, blasting Soulfin with missiles that called down lightning from the heavens and drilled into his flesh while the Watcher continued to teleport around the beast and harass it with quick stabs and stinging slices.
Soulfin snarled and desperately lashed out through the air in an attempt to catch Reshem, but the Watcher somehow always appeared in a safe place just long enough to jab Soulfin and then take off again.
The only problem was that no matter how many times the demon was struck, it didn’t seem to tire. The wounds Nagé inflicted upon the beast healed up only seconds after they had been made, and even though it appeared that Soulfin could not heal the areas Reshem had struck, the injuries did not seem to do much more than anger the beast.
A few moments later, a dozen Valkyries flew in from the south. Their spears and bows gleamed brightly under the light of Nagé’s magical attacks. Reshem focused his teleportations away from Soulfin to keep the beast focused on him, but it was no use. Soulfin must have heard the winged warriors coming. He flexed his mighty, fiery wings and sent a wall of flame up that consumed the first six Valkyries. The others turned away, but even as Reshem kept poking and stabbing the beast, Soulfin spun around and caught two more Valkyries with his sword, and devoured the last four with his orb spell, sucking their souls away for all eternity.
Nagé wept and charged in from above, firing her bow so rapidly that Soulfin flinched away from the unrelenting lightning. Jonathan too, wished to weep, but found that his ghostly form was unable to produce the tears his horrified soul yearned for.
Reshem continued his assault, focusing on the demon’s shoulders.
Lysander stood up, ready to strike. With Nagé coming in from high above and blasting the demon in the face, Soulfin was already arching upward, exposing much of his torso. Reshem’s attack forced the beast to raise its arms and wings up to counter, meaning Lysander would have a clear shot, but the window of opportunity would be brief.
Had Lysander not been born into a mortal life upon Terramyr, he would have retained all of his former glory, and he could have traveled the distance in the blink of an eye, but no
t now. Though he had magical weapons and extraordinary strength and agility, he had none of the powers he had once wielded as a god. He didn’t even have any magical ability, for those things had been stripped from him for his mortal probation.
“Father, just this once, grant me a portion of your strength!” Lysander whispered, the words coming clearly to Jonathan’s ears as he watched with all his energy focused on the hope that Lysander’s blow would land true. Then Lysander charged across the battlefield. His feet appeared to move like light upon the darkened ground, but Jonathan could see only too well that he would never reach Soulfin in time. Nagé was closing in much faster, and would be forced to turn away or suffer ultimate destruction, and Reshem was running out of safe places to appear along Soulfin’s mighty shoulders. Another three seconds, and the demon would surely kill one of the two, if not both.
“PLEASE!” Lysander grunted through his tightly clenched teeth.
An explosion of light sent myriad colors out over the darkened field and scattered the purple and black clouds from the sky just long enough for a thick, golden bolt of lightning to streak across and down to Lysander.
“Aim true, my son,” Icadion’s low voice instructed as the lightning snaked beneath Lysander and lifted him upward, rocketing him toward Soulfin’s chest.
The demon lost interest in Nagé and Reshem. It turned toward Lysander, but Lysander held true to his objective, aiming his spear for the demon’s heart. Riding the writhing, charged force beneath him, he managed to pierce the demon’s chest. Thunder rumbled over the valley and tremors rocked the ground below as Lysander’s great spear plunged deep into Soulfin’s heart. There, instead of a heart of flesh, was a solid, pulsing crystal behind the demon’s protective ribcage. The spear exploded upon impact, showering Lysander in shards of crystal as Icadion’s lightning bored deeper into the hole Lysander had made.
