by Peter Last
“Are you okay?” Senndra asked in a worried voice as she started to pull the debris off the two men.
“I don’t know,” Josiah said. “I think Timothy’s unconscious.”
“We need to get this off of him,” Senndra said as she continued to move pieces of wall.
“Wait,” Josiah said and laid a hand on Senndra’s arm. “Look!”
Behind Senndra, Feddir was facing off against Molkekk. The two of them had gone several rounds with Feddir attempting to stomp on the wizard; however, Molkekk was too fast and dodged the dragon’s feet every time. The next time the dragon tried to crush the wizard, Molkekk spun away from the claw and shoved with both hands toward Feddir. Feddir flipped across the road, coming to rest against a building. Another spell brought the whole wall down on the beast.
“Who will contest me?” Molkekk shouted to no one in particular. “There are none that can stand against me.”
“None at all?”
Josiah could not see the newcomer, but his voice sounded familiar. Craning his neck as far as he could, he was finally able to see an elf walking down the street toward Molkekk. A moment later he recognized the figure as Nathan.
“You are powerful, magician. I can tell that already, but not even you can stand against the might of a wizard,” Molkekk said.
“You are mistaken, wizard,” Nathan answered. “I am not very powerful at all. In fact, I can hardly heal a flesh wound with magic. No, I believe you may be sensing the magician behind you.”
“Behind me?” Molkekk spun around to see another elf advancing on him. This one he recognized from many years before. “So, this is Wellter, the magician who should have fought me instead of Jothnial. You’re shorter than I expected.”
Wellter didn’t say anything, and silence fell as the two men stared at each other. Neither moved at all, but it soon became obvious that they were fighting for their lives, though the battle was not visible to the eye.
The air directly in front of Molkekk began to darken and slowly spread out from him; at the same time the air in front of Wellter brightened and began to spread out in front of him. The contrast was striking, darkness flowing out from one man and light from the other. Sparks showered down to the ground as light and dark smashed into each other, and the strain of both became evident as they tried to use brute force to overpower the other.
For several moments, the darkness and light pressed against each other, fighting each other, trying to push the other back, but neither made any progress. Then, so slowly that it was barely noticeable, the light began to recede. As Wellter began to show signs of weariness, Molkekk grew more vigorous and redoubled his attack. The forward progress of the darkness continued as it ate up the light until it had almost reached Wellter.
The magician made one last desperate attempt to push off the darkness and stopped its march for a moment, but then it surged forward, completely extinguishing the light and enveloping the magician. There was no explosion and no sparks; Wellter simply collapsed to the ground under the cloud of darkness.
Molkekk lifted his head to the sky and let forth a victorious cry, daring anyone to come and challenge him. Josiah couldn’t tear his eyes away from the wizard who was looking around at all of his fallen enemies. Slowly Molkekk’s gaze swung around until it found Josiah. Their eyes locked for a moment, and the wizard started across the ground toward him.
******
Rita’s eyes flew open, and she sat straight up. She was still in the park which she and her friends had walked to that morning, and as she looked around, she could see Richard, Alyss, William, and Lydia sitting up and looking around as well. Apparently the thing that had awoken her had done the same for them. Something was wrong, but Rita’s sleep-fogged mind couldn’t figure out what it was. She struggled to make herself concentrate, but the effort was useless. Then it suddenly hit her; Senndra was nowhere to be seen.
Quickly Rita rose to her feet and looked at the city around her. The bright sun that had been in the sky that morning was gone, hidden behind a cover of clouds, and a chilling wind was sweeping across the city. Oddly, the clouds weren’t covering the entire sky, nor were they coming from the horizon; rather it almost appeared that they were coming from the city, near a tower Rita could see above the buildings.
Without knowing why, she started walking toward the tower. Behind her she could hear her friends calling to her, but their voices were carried away on the wind, so she couldn’t quite tell what they were saying. Her pace started to increase gradually until she was running across lawns and down allies. Finally, she burst out onto a street and saw the tower standing before her, but it was what was in the building’s shadow that caught her eye.
Sparks flew as two men faced off and as she ran, she saw one of them fall. The other turned and started walking toward a pile of rubble. As Rita drew closer, she could see two people buried under the rubble with Senndra standing over them. As she watched, Senndra drew her sword and ran toward the advancing man, but he ducked under her blow and backhanded her in the side of the head. She fell like a stone to the pavement.
At the sight of her friend being treated in such a fashion, a rage burst into Rita’s mind. Her pace increased to a sprint, and she drew the only weapon that she had, a long knife hanging on her belt. The man finally saw her when she was only a few feet away, but didn’t move to protect himself in any way. Rita continued at her breakneck speed, and the distance between the man and her disappeared. She raised her knife to deliver a blow and slammed into a wall of thin air. The knife flew from her grip, and she bounced backward, stumbling over her feet. Her head contacted the pavement with a sharp crack, and pain flooded her skull.
******
Cirro led the man in golden armor to the center of the city where his men had gathered and was surprised to see that there were more than twice the number he had expected to be present.
The man in golden armor walked directly through the ranks of soldiers as they parted to allow him to pass. No words were spoken, but it was evident they would follow him into battle. Cirro stayed close behind the man as he left the city square and veered off toward the gates. His pace was brisk but not fast, and in fifteen minutes he had led the army to the city gates.
The gates were slowly opening, and beyond them the army of Molkekk was charging directly toward the city. The grappling hooks on the wall and dead soldiers at the door of the gatehouse told the story; some of the enemy had scaled the wall without being spotted and killed the guards at the gate. Now they were opening the gates to allow their army access to the city.
The man in golden armor drew his sword and held it above his head. A clamor filled the air as the soldiers behind him drew their weapons and increased their speed to match his jog. By now the gates were fully open, and the enemy soldiers were coming out of the gatehouse. Seeing the soldiers of Magessa, they drew their weapons, but they were of no use. The man in golden armor reached them first, and a blow from his sword sheered through their swords and decapitated them.
The army of Magessa reached the gates a hundred yards in front of Molkekk’s men, and they formed a line while a few entered the gatehouse. Cirro retrieved one of the weapons from the dead gate guards and stood with two swords, daring the enemy to continue. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see the man in golden armor.
“I must leave you now,” the man said.
“What?” Cirro demanded. “There’s no way we can defeat this army without you!”
“Defeating Molkekk is more important than defeating his army,” the man answered. “I go now to find the wizard and kill him. You must hold this gate until I succeed.”
“Yes sir, I will do my best,” Cirro said. He watched as the man disappeared among the soldiers then turned back to the enemy. He raised his swords and waited.
******
Rita sat up and rubbed the back of her head. At first she thought she was dreaming, but now she knew she had to be awake. She glanced around quickly, trying to get her bearing
s, but nothing looked familiar. The sky overhead was red and open space rather than buildings surrounded her. Slowly she stood to her feet and realized she was on a battlefield that had been deserted for several days already. Dead bodies covered the ground around her, bodies wearing the armor of Magessa as well as bodies which wore the livery of Molkekk, but time had not taken note of whom the soldiers had paid allegiance. All of them were starting to decay, and birds were circling over the field, dropping down to feed on the dead.
The bodies of another breed of soldier were mingled among the dead, soldiers that had wings sprouting from their backs and wearing armor that was now dull, but still glowed with faint light. In an instant Rita remembered the whole battle, the army of Magessa being defeated, but an angelic host coming to their rescue. Slowly, almost afraid to look, she looked at the ground in front of her.
The man in golden armor was lying on the ground, his face deathly pale. Rita’s sword was still buried in his stomach, and it was obvious that he had been dead for a long time. Dried blood covered his armor and the ground around him, but miraculously time had not ravaged his body.
The emotions that had filled Rita the last time she had seen this man, emotions she had successfully forgotten, came flooding back, and tears flowed down her cheeks. Hopelessness and sorrow filled her as she gazed at him and realized for the second time that she had killed the very person who could have given her any hope at all. Her mind told her that this was the very son of Elohim, and by killing him she had chosen her side. Who was she to try and ignore her decision? She couldn’t continue to fight for Magessa, for Elohim, now that she had done this.
Slowly her tears subsided, and she rubbed them from her face. She took one last look at the man’s face, and even though his features were lifeless, she could still see love on them. She vaguely remembered Senndra saying something important.
“Remember this,” her friend had said. “Elohim loves you and will always take you back. All that you have to do is ask.”
Hope flooded Rita. Could that possibly be true? Would Elohim forgive her even after what she had done? She looked back to where the man in golden armor was lying, but as her gaze touched him a blinding light appeared, accompanied by a loud roar. The earth under her feet shook, and she fell to the ground. She planted her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still hear the roaring, and the light still found a way to her eyes. Gradually the shaking faded away, and the roaring was close behind it. The light softened from its harsh glare, and Rita was able to open her eyes and look around. From her position on the ground, she could not see the body that had been in front of her a moment ago, so she struggled to her knees and craned her neck until she could see behind herself.
There was nothing there, so she turned back around and only then noticed her sword sticking out of the ground. Dried blood surrounded the weapon, but there was no sign of the body which had been there moments before.
Rita shook her head slowly and looked again, but the body was still gone. She crawled forward on her hands and knees until she reached her sword. Pulling it from the ground, she examined the blade and then the ground, but she could find nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to explain the disappearance of the body. Finally she stopped looking at the ground and rocked back on her heels. What was happening? The man had been here only a moment ago. He had been dead, so there was no way he could have moved. Rita’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as she stared at the bloody ground.
“Rita.”
The single word came from behind Rita and silenced all of her confusion. Slowly she turned and saw the man behind her, the one who had been lying dead on the ground. His golden armor shone as if it was giving off a light of its own, and best of all, the blood that had been caked on his breastplate was gone.
“Rita, you are forgiven if you will but accept it,” the man said gently.
Tears began to run unbidden down Rita’s cheeks as she looked up at the man. Love shone from his eyes, and it was more than Rita could bear. How could this man love her after what she had done to him? She bowed her head in shame. The man knelt down in front of her and gently lifted her face to look at him. With one hand he wiped the tears from her face.
“You are forgiven, Rita,” he said.
An unexplainable joy exploded inside of Rita and she threw her arms around the man’s neck. She was laughing through her tears now, and the man laughed along with her. He stood up and pulled her to her feet.
“You are mine now, Rita,” the man said. He directed Rita’s gaze to the battlefield, where she could make out movement among the mass of bodies. One by one the angels and soldiers of Magessa stood up. Their flesh and skin grew back until they were whole again.
“I have a job for you, Rita,” the man said after the soldiers were all standing. “My enemy Molkekk is at large and, if he is not stopped, will destroy all of Magessa. I need you to go back and face him.”
“But he’s a wizard, and I’m just a person,” Rita argued. “I will gladly go to fight him if you send me, but of what use will it be?”
“You are not just a person anymore, you are mine, and I will protect you,” the man said. “If you will obey me, I will help you stand against all your adversaries.”
“If you say so, my lord, I will do it,” Rita said.
******
Josiah watched as Molkekk batted Senndra away. He strained under the load of bricks on top of him and was able to dislodge a few, but they were too heavy for him to be able to free himself. He looked up and saw a girl come bounding down the street straight toward Molkekk, but she slammed into an invisible wall before she even reached him. She fell backwards and hit the ground with a dull smack, ending in a motionless heap.
Molkekk walked purposefully toward Josiah, a murderous light glinting in his eyes. Josiah struggled with the bricks, shoving them off his chest so that he could sit up. Pain flared through his back, but he fought against it. He pulled a knife from his belt and stabbed at Molkekk as soon as he got close enough, but the wizard simply dodged the poorly aimed swipe. Releasing a laugh, he pulled his sword from its scabbard.
“Now to finally be done with you, flea,” Molkekk said and swung his sword at Josiah’s head. Josiah heard a whistling sound coming from behind, and the wizard’s blade stopped with a ringing sound against a sword that seemed to have materialized from nowhere.
The girl, who moments before had hit the wizard’s invisible wall, pushed him away from Josiah and inserted herself between the two men. She exchanged a flurry of blows with the wizard, driving him further from Josiah until she had put twenty feet between him and them. A blow from Molkekk jarred her sword from her grasp, and she stumbled backward. His next attack, one intended to finish her off, was a thrust at her chest, but she dodged to the side and moved inside his guard. Reaching with her left arm under his armpit, she planted her palm on his shoulder. With a move almost too fast for Josiah to see, she twisted and pushed Molkekk forward. With her other hand, she stabbed a dagger Josiah had not seen until now upward with her other hand, burying it in the wizard’s throat.
Molkekk staggered backwards, clutching at his throat, and Rita looked on in victory. The shocked look on Molkekk’s face, however, changed to a smile, and he raised an eyebrow. He grabbed the dagger, jerked it out of his throat, and tossed it at Rita’s feet.
Rita took an involuntary step backward as Molkekk stood up. Slowly he lifted his hands and pointed at her, and darkness began to flow from his fingertips toward her. It reached her quickly and enveloped her. She clutched her throat and fell to her knees as the darkness choked the life out of her. Her vision began to dim, and she knew consciousness would leave her at any moment.
“Leave the girl alone, or I'll tear you apart.”
Molkekk turned toward the weak threat and saw Timothy clawing his way out from under the rubble that covered him. He knocked aside what he could with his hands and dislodged the larger pieces with magic.
“Are you not vanquished yet
?” Molkekk growled. “I've seen ogres killed easier than you.”
“You lied about my family,” Timothy said as he staggered to his feet. “You killed the people I care most about, but I will not allow you to do it to this girl.”
“Wait a moment,” Molkekk said. He tossed Rita to the side and walked toward Timothy. “I know who you are.”
“That’s very clever of you,” Timothy said sarcastically. “It didn’t take the illusion in your tower nearly as long.”
“Yes, well, there’s so much more going on up here than in the head of an illusion,” Molkekk said, tapping a finger to his forehead. “All that’s irrelevant, however. Your service is to me, so why are we fighting?”
“I don’t serve you anymore,” Timothy said. “My master is Elohim, and Him alone.”
“That’s too bad,” Molkekk commented in an offhanded fashion. “I might have let you live, but now I will kill you like a bug.”
“For all your talk, that has yet to happen,” Timothy said. “If you want my life, come and take it.”
“I knew someone like you once,” Molkekk said. He made a fist and magic started to crackle around it. “He resisted me as well. I offered a gift, but he did not want to take it. In the end he submitted to my will; everyone does.”
“I will not,” Timothy grated. He threw a ward together just in time to deflect the spell Molkekk flung at him.
“Have you not seen me dispatch everyone who has stood against me?” Molkekk asked. “I will overcome you. Surrender now, and I will kill you quickly.”
“I surrendered to you once before and have hated myself for doing so ever since,” Timothy said. “It will not happen again.”
“Then you have chosen the more painful death,” Molkekk said coldly. He blasted a beam of magic at Timothy. The young magician tried to deflect the blow, but he didn’t have the strength. His ward crumpled under the attack. The force of Molkekk's spell threw him onto his back where he lay trying to catch his breath. An unseen hand gripped his chest and began to squeeze. His lungs labored to draw breath, and his ribs creaked dangerously. In moments they would begin to snap like twigs.
