Sevenfold Sword: Unity

by Jonathan Moeller

  The battle was not going well.

  Truth be told, it was about to be lost.

  The muridachs poured through the shattered gate in a horde, and Calliande and the Augurs and the other wizards unleashed their magic at the ruined gate. Fire and lightning and ice ripped into the muridachs, killing dozens of them. Kalussa hurled crystalline spheres with such force that they punched through multiple muridachs at once. Corpses carpeted the northern square, mostly muridachs, but with a growing number of gray elves.

  A line of gray elven swordsmen struggled to hold against the muridachs pouring through the gate. They fought in perfect harmony, each swordsman covering the other, moving with perfect timing to avoid tripping each other, and they left slain muridachs heaped around them. Yet the sheer press of the muridachs forced the swordsmen back as more enemies swarmed through the gate.

  The situation on the walls was just as bad. Ridmark saw that the muridachs had managed to clear two footholds on the ramparts, and more ratmen were swarming up the siege towers and onto the battlements. Some of them fought the defenders on the walls, but others descended from the ramparts and into the city’s streets. If the muridach commanders had any wits, they would move through the streets and come at the defenders in the square from behind.

  They needed a more defensible location, but there wasn’t one. Cathair Caedyn had no citadel, relying upon its walls for protection.

  Ridmark fought on, trying to keep the muridachs from reaching Calliande and the other wizards.

  ###

  Tamara did not need to aim her spells.

  There was no need. The enemy was everywhere. In every direction she looked, save for behind her, she saw muridachs pouring through the gate or scrambling over the walls. Tamara through lightning bolt after lightning bolt, leaving slain and stunned muridachs scattered across the ground.

  Despite the danger, her eyes kept flicking to Tamlin.

  He was a pillar of defense, laying around him with the Sword of Earth, killing muridachs with every blow. Krastikon and Calem fought with equal ferocity, their Swords slicing through armor and flesh. But the sheer weight of muridach numbers was pressing them back.

  Calliande had suggested that some of the gray elves could flee through the southern gate and into the Illicaeryn Jungle, but Tamara now saw that was hopeless. If the defenders tried to flee, they would be overrun in a matter of moments.

  A pair of Throne Guards rushed towards Tamlin, swords raised to strike, the blood sigils burning on their crimson armor. Tamara thrust her staff and cast a bolt of lightning, and her magic coiled around the two Guards, making them jerk and dance. The dark magic on their armor deflected her power, but it gave Tamlin the moment he needed to move. The Sword of Earth cut down both Throne Guards, their corpses falling to the ground.

  Tamara started to pull together power for another spell, and she heard Calliande gasp.

  She turned, fearing that the Keeper had been wounded, but Calliande looked fine, only exhausted. The Keeper was staring the to south, her blue eyes wide.

  “What is it?” said Tamara.

  “It’s gone,” said Calliande, astonished. “It’s just gone.”

  The green glow under the bark of the Sylmarus winked out of existence.

  ###

  Magic burned before Calliande’s Sight, a storm of elemental and dark magic as the gray elven wizards and the muridach priests threw their spells into the fray. The competing powers seethed and snarled, battling each other with fierce violence.

  And then, in the middle of the fighting, the aura of the Sylmarus vanished.

  It just vanished, disappeared as if it had never existed.

  “No,” said Athadira, staring at the Sylmarus with wide, horrified eyes. “No, it cannot be.”

  “What happened?” said Calliande.

  “She killed it,” said Athadira. “She killed the Unity. Another moment and it will collapse.”

  And with that, Calliande realized that the battle was over.

  When the Unity collapsed, the mental shock would stun or disable the gray elves. The muridachs would sweep the city in short order. Could Calliande and Ridmark and their friends escape? Perhaps, but she did not see how. The muridachs encircled the city. And Qazaldhar would make sure that Nerzamdrathus and the Throne Guards and the muridach priests came for them.

  “Then this is the end of our people,” said Athadira. “The Unity has failed, and…”

  “Athadira, shut up,” said Seruna. “Look. Look!”

  Calliande stared at the Sylmarus and then saw what had caught Seruna’s attention.

  The base of the great tree’s trunk was beginning to glow.

  Not with green light, but with blue.

  The blue light shot up the tree, spreading beneath its trunk, and soon it looked as if the Sylmarus was wreathed in harsh blue fire. The ghostly flames shone brighter and brighter, and it blazed brighter than the sun. A sudden pause came over the battle as both the muridachs and the gray elves gaped at the strange light. To Calliande’s Sight, the Sylmarus’s aura writhed with a power that she had never seen before.

  Then the light exploded.

  A wall of blue flame rushed out in all directions from the Sylmarus, a hundred feet tall, and surged forward with terrific speed. Calliande flinched and started to summon magic for a ward, but the blue fire moved too fast. It passed through her without harm, though she felt the sheer power of it. The muridachs cringed back as the fire shot through them, but it likewise did nothing to the ratmen.

  It passed through the gray elves, and some of it settled on them, sinking into their flesh. All the gray elves had black veins visible beneath their skin, the marks of the plague curse, but now the veins glowed with blue fire.

  Calliande looked around in surprise and saw that every single gray elf had gone motionless, their eyes and veins beginning to shine with blue flame.

  Chapter 21: One Final Chance

  Ridmark looked around in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

  The gray elves stood motionless, blue fire glowing beneath their skin. The muridachs had gone motionless as well, though from confusion, and growled questions at each other in their language.

  “Calliande?” said Ridmark, his voice rough from exertion. He spotted her a dozen yards away, standing with Kalussa and Tamara and the Augurs.

  “I don’t know,” said Calliande. “Something is happening to the Unity, I don’t know what. But it’s touching all of the gray elves at once.”

  And whatever it was, it held the gray elves enthralled, or perhaps paralyzed.

  Which meant the muridachs had an excellent opportunity to finish them off.

  A muridach berserker strode towards Lord Rhomathar, axe drawn back to strike, and the movement shook the other muridachs out their paralysis.

  ###

  Third’s sword burned in the heart of the Sylmarus, the ancient weapon of blue steel crumbling to ashes.

  But with every beat of the heart, the blue fire shone brighter, the heartbeat growing louder and stronger. The blue fire spread through the veins of the wall, reaching higher and deeper into the living wood of the Sylmarus. Every time it touched one of the tumorous growths, the growth shriveled into nothingness, and the black veins had vanished from the heart.

  Third looked at her forearm and saw that the gash she had cut there had already vanished, as had the cuts on Kyralion and Rilmeira.

  “What is happening?” said Rilmeira. “I feel…the Unity…”

  Third looked at her. Rilmeira’s eyes glowed with blue fire, her veins shining with the same light. Kyralion looked the same, the golden hue of his eyes obscured by the azure flame.

  “Third,” said Kyralion, his burning eyes meeting hers. “What have we done?”

  “I will show you,” said Third. “Be ready to fight.”

  The song rose within her, the song of her blood. But she also heard the song of the Sylmarus inside of her head, and the two songs were in harmony. Third reached out and took both Kyr
alion’s hand and Rilmeira’s, and drew on her power to travel.

  This time, the power of the Sylmarus answered her.

  ###

  Ridmark sprinted forward, hoping to kill the muridach berserker before the creature took off Lord Rhomathar’s head. As he took the first step, Ridmark knew he was going to be too late. Even Oathshield’s speed would not let him cover the distance in time.

  Then the Lord Marshal looked up, the blue fire shining brighter beneath his skin.

  The axe blurred for his head, and Rhomathar vanished. The muridach stumbled and overbalanced, bafflement going over its rat-like face.

  Blue fire flashed, and Rhomathar reappeared behind the berserker. Before the creature could turn, Rhomathar drove his sword into its back. The creature gurgled and collapsed to the ground. A second muridach berserker came at Rhomathar, and he turned, parried, and vanished again, reappearing in a swirl of flame behind the berserker.

  Just as Ridmark had seen Third and Mara do countless times before.

  Rhomathar turned to face the muridachs, and they flinched from his gaze. The Augurs straightened up, the blue flames still dancing beneath their skin and in their eyes.

  Then the plaza exploded in blue fire as every single gray elf vanished at once.

  ###

  Tamara felt her jaw fall open in astonishment as the gray elves disappeared from the square and the walls. For a single hideous moment, it felt like she and Tamlin and their friends were alone in a city surrounded by tens of thousands of muridachs.

  Then the gray elves reappeared, all of them, in swirls of blue flame. They were in different positions. It was just like Tamara had seen Third do, using the power of her blood to travel from place to place in the blink of an eye.

  Except now all the gray elves could do it.

  Tamara had seen them fight in fluid, graceful harmony, had seen their swordsmen move around each other with perfect timing, stepping with a half-second to spare to avoid their archers’ arrows. It had been a wondrous and terrifying thing to behold, and that uncanny harmony was the reason the gray elves had held off the muridachs for so long.

  And the gray elves showed the same deadly harmony as they flickered back and forth across the square and the rampart.

  Blue fire flashed and flared, and the muridachs died. Every time a gray elf appeared, a muridach warrior perished, and the gray elves traveled away before their enemies could land a strike. Tamara lifted her staff, intending to throw her powers into the battle, but there was no need. In less than half a minute, the attack on the gate and the ramparts had collapsed, with most of the muridachs slain and the rest fleeing.

  “How?” said Krastikon. “How are they doing that?”

  “I have no idea,” said Calliande. “The Sylmarus…the connection to the Unity has changed.” Tamara looked back and saw the Sylmarus blazing like an azure torch, the veins seeming molten beneath its bark. To her astonishment, she saw that thousands of new leaves had bloomed on its branches, and the blue fire was burning away the tumorous growths while leaving the rest of the great tree untouched.

  “The Unity,” said Athadira, the haughtiness in her voice replaced by awe. “It has…it has changed. It is different. It is rejuvenated.”

  Calliande started to say something, and blue fire flashed near them.

  Third, Kyralion, and Rilmeira appeared out of nothingness. Both Rilmeira and Kyralion had the glowing blue veins beneath their skin. The fire shone in Third’s veins, and her eyes had turned to molten blue fire. It made her look beautiful and terrible. The ancient pagans on Old Earth had worshipped goddesses of war, Tamara knew, goddesses who strode among the battlefields with the blood of the slain dripping from their fingers.

  If those goddesses could have seen Third, they would have fled in terror.

  “Third?” said Ridmark. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” said Third. Her voice had a strange reverberation to it. “But there is a task to be done.”

  “What happened?” said Athadira.

  “The blood of the dark elves,” said Kyralion. “Liberated from its enslavement, as Third was liberated. The blood of the gray elves, joined to the Unity. We called ourselves the Liberated, but it was Third who was truly liberated, for she knew enslavement more profound than any we shall ever experience. And it was she who has rejuvenated the Unity.”

  Athadira stared at them. For the first time, the High Augur seemed at a loss for words. Around them, the final few muridachs fled from the square, scrambling over each other to reach the ruined gate.

  “What…what should we do now?” said Athadira.

  “Perhaps we can hold here longer,” said Rhomathar. “The muridachs are withdrawing to the base of the hill, and…”

  “No,” said Ridmark. “Now is the time to attack, right now.”

  “Attack?” said Athadira, aghast, but Rhomathar nodded. “They have hundreds of thousands, and we have barely four thousand still able to fight!”

  “But those four thousand can transport themselves in the blink of an eye,” said Ridmark. “The muridachs have never encountered anything like this before. They won’t know how to handle it. If we hit them hard enough now, right now, before they can recover, we can break them.” He looked at Rhomathar. “Tell your men to target the muridach captains, the lords, the priests, the leaders. An army without leaders is just a confused rabble.”

  “But the Maledictus…” started Athadira.

  “We’re going after him,” said Ridmark. “Right now. If we can find Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar and kill them, we’ll break the back of their army.”

  “We cannot kill the Maledictus of Death,” said Athadira. “The Kratomachar gives him power. If you cut him down, his malevolent spirit will simply inhabit another corpse.”

  Something stirred in Tamara’s mind, something from the same place that had held her knowledge of air magic.

  Seven Swords. Seven spikes in the symbol of the New God.

  The seven Maledicti…

  “At the very least we can drive him off,” said Ridmark. “We…”

  “Wait!” said Tamara. “Wait!”

  They all stared at her.

  Tamara swallowed. “I know how we can stop Qazaldhar.”

  “How, girl?” demanded Athadira.

  “Don’t you see?” said Tamara. “There are Seven Swords, and seven high priests of the Maledicti…and their souls are bound to the Seven Swords. That’s why they’re immortal. That’s why they keep coming back when they are slain. Their souls are drawn back to the Swords, and then to a new body. But if you cut down Qazaldhar with the Sword of Death itself…”

  “He’s the Maledictus of Death,” said Tamlin with growing excitement, “and his soul would be bound within the Sword of Death until someone freed it.”

  Tamara nodded and looked at Calliande.

  “Dear God,” said Calliande. “I should have realized it sooner. I think she’s right. Krastikon, if we can get close enough to Qazaldhar for you to use the Sword of Death to strike him…I think we can trap his spirit, keep him from taking a new body like Khurazalin did.”

  “But there are so many muridachs,” said Athadira. “We cannot overcome them all.”

  “We don’t need to overcome them all,” said Ridmark. “We just need to kill their leaders. The gray elves can do that now. And if we kill Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar, the muridach host will turn on itself.”

  “Mother, he’s right,” said Rilmeira. “This is our very last chance. Lady Third and Kyralion have given it to us. We must not waste it.”

  Athadira stared at her daughter, terrible doubt on her face. Then her expression hardened, and she nodded.

  “So be it,” she said. “We shall decide our fate with one last battle. At least this way, if our kindred fall, we shall die fighting for victory, rather than waiting behind the walls for the end to claim us.”

  “Then let’s move,” said Ridmark.

  Chapter 22: The Last Stand Of The Gray Elves

  Rid
mark walked from beneath the ram’s housing and looked down the slope towards the siege camps of the muridachs, the others following behind him.

  The muridachs were ready for a fight.

  They had poured forth from their camps and formed up at the base of the slope, ready to charge up the hill and through the broken gate. Yet Ridmark saw the ripples of uncertainty going through the muridach lines as the survivors of the attack on the walls retreated to join them. The muridachs so far had not suffered any serious setbacks in the siege of Cathair Caedyn. They had suffered tremendous casualties, yes, but the muridach leaders did not care about that.

  But the muridach leaders had not yet seen one of their attacks repulsed so swiftly.

  Now, Ridmark’s instincts screamed. Now was the moment to strike. While the confusion and resultant demoralization worked their way through the muridach ranks. For all their viciousness and skill at combat, the muridachs were still scavengers. The gray elves had put up a ferocious fight, but they still had been weakened and dying, qualities the muridachs favored in their prey.

  Whatever Third had done, the gray elves were no longer so weakened.

  And it was obvious.

  The remaining warriors of Cathair Caedyn had transported themselves outside the walls, halfway down the slope of the hill. The swordsmen had drawn up in front, and the archers loosed a steady stream of shafts at the muridachs. The ratmen had not yet brought any of their own archers forward, and the muridachs had raised their shields to ward off the missiles, though Ridmark saw muridach after muridach fall.

  “There,” said Calliande, pointing with her staff. “Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar are there.”

  In the middle of the muridach formation, Ridmark saw a crimson mass of Throne Guards, waiting for battle in their red armor. At this distance, Ridmark could not pick out the figures of the Great King and the Maledictus, but he knew they would be there.