by T. C. Edge
I brace for the impact, drawing my energy to my shield once more. The gaps and shimmering tears fill in, protecting me just in time as I clatter into the earth. The shield takes the brunt, though the tremors run through me. My teeth chatter and brain rocks in my skull. My eyes are temporarily blurred as I try to stand and turn, but stagger only as I do.
The enemy rush in now, rifles held up and preparing to fire. I hear Kovas calling out the order to stop.
“We take her alive!” he shouts in his gruff, grisly voice. “We put her in chains!”
I turn back to the fort, my legs suddenly weak, trying to rush that way. The Olympians are too quick, bearing down on me through the shroud of smoke and darkness. I glance back, my foot catching on something. I tumble again, falling face-first into the dirt, the impact squeezing the air from my lungs.
Gasping, I try to press myself up. I don’t look back. I don’t need to. I can hear them now, a hundred footsteps tapping towards me on rock and stone. I can almost smell Kovas’s stink as he approaches…
Movement.
I see movement ahead.
Shadows through the breach, silhouettes against the flame.
I squint forwards, hardly able to move. My heart hammers as figures begin pouring through the rift in the wall, rushing back out and onto the plains.
Hendricks. Maximus. Stalkers and City Guards alike.
And at their head, leading them all…
Perses.
I gawp at the sight of the man in black coming my way. He rushes with intent, his face crafted of stone. Hope flourishes inside me. I turn back, his arrival injecting new energy into my blood. I see Kovas slowing, his eyes widening in shock, as he looks upon the man he thought to be dead.
And then, from the skies, I see a great blue light coming.
For a moment, the world stops, Kovas halting, his soldiers doing the same. They look upon their old leader, the greatest Olympian of all, paralysed by a temporary confusion. Is this real? they must think. Is Perses really alive?
Behind me, however, Perses doesn’t stop. He leads the coalition defenders on, rushing to my aid as they spot me there, caught in no man’s land between them…
Kovas unfreezes. His words rip violently from his throat. “Kill her!” he bellows, abandoning his intention to take me. “Kill her now!”
A hundred rifles lift and prepare to fire. Above, the blue light grows large, fizzing loudly as it bears down upon the fort. I look up and see it.
I look up, and see my salvation.
In a heartbeat, driven by need and my instinct to survive, I draw all the remaining energy I have and set it to a single use. My lower half explodes in flame, my palms shooting boosts to guide me. I soar once more into the air, my eyes staring at one thing, and one thing only…
The great ball of blue energy, rushing my way.
I speed towards it, as it speeds towards the fort. I have judged it just right, made the decision just in time. My vision is overtaken by electric blue, fierce at its centre, weakening to the sides. A fizzing, cackling, violence approaches.
And I meet it with open arms.
I fly right into the ball of energy, abandoning my power of flight as I do. Instead, I build a final shield around my frame, encasing me, protecting me, feeding off the source of energy as it rushes for the fort.
The sensation is overwhelming, almost too much to bear. I wonder for a second if I’ve made a terrible mistake. I wonder if I’m too weak now to handle the power surging through me.
I focus, bracing, every inch of me tightening up as the ball of blue light swirls around me, exploding on impact into a great, frenzied flame. I draw it in, feeding off its power. The sense of overwhelm peaks and begins to mellow. And instead, I feel life, energy, an unshackled vitality spreading through me once more.
The blue explosion fades, leaving only me behind. My shield is stronger than ever. My palms and lower body burn bright, holding me in place. I hover there, thirty metres in the sky, the fires swirling about me, casting my eyes down at the soldiers below.
Many look up, stricken by wonder. Many who didn’t flee before now turn and escape to the black, haunted by the flaming devil above them, by the mighty ghost of Perses, spectral in his lightless armour.
The panic that spreads below is contrasted by the ferocity of our soldiers’ reaction. Perses, Maximus, Hendricks. I see them all rushing forwards and devastating the remaining soldiers, the rest of our troops following right in behind. I turn my eyes, flashing them towards the fort. Beyond the breach I see bodies scattered across the yard, littered among the rubble. Yet the fighting is now done. The fort has been made safe.
I turn my chest forward, altering my position, my palms firing down to hold me there. Subtle adjustments turn me, my eyes moving across the battleground, searching.
I see my target, his ugly, stocky figure and shining bald head hard to miss. In an instant, I flick my wrists, turning my palms backwards, and press forwards with a blazing trail of light, hunting him down.
He sees me coming, his eyes widening in alarm, turning to try to rush away. I flood in and don’t let him, whooshing past and knocking him off his feet. He tumbles and rolls, launching himself back up, frantic now as he tries to flee.
I turn and go again, firing myself low to the ground. I move past once more, setting a trail of fire behind me as I go. I begin circling as he attempts to double back, seeking a way past, a way through. Rotating around him, I spin with all the speed I can muster, forging a wide, tall wall of flame, spinning like a blazing tornado.
I come to a stop, dropping to the solid earth. Nearby, I see Perses stepping forwards, leaving the others to take care of the rest. He moves with great calm, his eyes narrow, his body humming. And still, despite my surging power, the explosion of my full potential, I look at the man with awe.
We share no words, not needing them now. I turn my eyes to the fiery vortex, reach out a hand, and open up a door inside. Beyond, caught and with nowhere to go, Kovas stands, hands to his head, eyes manically turning left and right. He sees the opening appear, and like a terrified beast, caught in a corner, attempts to flee through it.
Perses reacts, rushing right in. He takes him by the throat, lifting him off the ground, slamming him hard to the barren, rocky floor. I step in, following them inside, and allow the door to close off behind us, sealing us inside.
Alone now, hidden by the swirling inferno, Perses and I stand together, staring at the form of Herald Kovas on the floor. He looks up at us, terrified, the coward in him breaking free.
“M-mercy, Perses,” he says, bowing his shining head, holding up his hands. “Have mercy.”
“Mercy,” I growl. “Is that what you showed the Fringers in your camp? Is that what you showed Ralph!” I step in, my body golden and glowing. “You burned him alive. You burned them all!”
I reach out a hand, my fingers splayed into a claw. Between them, a ball of fire gathers, a mere metre from Kovas’s face.
“Give me one good reason, Kovas!” I say. “One reason why I shouldn’t end you right here.”
His eyes sneak up. I see tears on his soot-stained cheeks. His entire body trembles from within, his face convulsing with a hundred micro-expressions of fear, grief, anger, hate…
He tries to answer. Nothing comes but a mumble. I look down at him, and see nothing but a pitiful creature now, the powerful figure he was reduced to a shivering wreck.
“Let me do it, Perses,” I say, refusing to let my hatred for him wilt. “He’ll never be free of the Prime. He’s rotten to the core.”
I look up at the great Olympian, looming high above me. His eyes are hard to read, his face like a statue, still and stony. They stare down at Kovas, unrelenting. His breathing, usually so measured and slow, begins to pick up some pace.
“You were a brother to me, Kovas,” he says. His voice is so deep, easily overcoming the roaring of the swirling flames around us. “You betrayed me. You sought power for your own. You manipulated young Elian,
hoping he’d try to kill me.” He stops, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Everything you have done, you have done for yourself. And now, even the Prime have lost faith.” I see Kovas’s eyes lift to his, unblinking and tearful. “Your failure, Kovas, is complete.”
The man on his knees stares up, Perses’s words injuring him like a dagger to the heart. I see the truth wash over him. The truth of his failure, the folly of his corruption. Whatever happens now, he is finished. The Prime will never accept another failure.
He drops his eyes, knowing. Knowing his time is done.
“Kill me,” he whispers, speaking to the scorched and blackened earth beneath him. “Please, Perses,” he says, looking up. “Please, let it be you.”
Perses doesn’t move, though I sense him stiffen just a little. He stares down at his old brother, the man who betrayed him, driven by his lust and greed. And slowly, he shakes his head.
“I do not want to kill you, Kovas,” he says. “I do not want to kill any of my people.” He shakes his head, drawing a strained breath. “I have been forced down this route. You have forced my hand. But even you are not truly to blame. It is the Prime who holds responsibility here.”
Kovas looks up. I see his expression shifting, the fear and grief cast off. He looks like they all do when the Prime is threatened. Another word, just one more, and I know that he will strike.
Perses turns quiet. He knows it too. I look up at him, and see now that he cannot do it. That he cannot bring himself to say the words, knowing how Kovas will react. Knowing what the result will be.
But, I think, it doesn’t need to be him. I can take the responsibility for myself.
I take a short step forward, drawing Kovas’s eye. I hold my palm out, lowered to my side, the flame still massing between my fingers. He looks up at me, that snarl returning. I see the hateful man I’ve always wanted to kill. Finally, I will see it done.
My lips open, and the words come out. The worlds that will see to his end.
“We are going to kill the Prime,” I say slowly, staring at him with my golden eyes.
I see Perses’s gaze gently turning down and away. He cannot watch as Kovas launches himself towards me, exploding into a rage as all the others do. He cannot watch as I set forth the flame, opening my fingers wider as death explodes from my palm. He shuts his eyes as the blaze wraps Kovas up, hugging him fondly as it feeds. And as the screams come, the terrible wails, I see Perses cringe and mournfully shake his head.
It doesn’t last long, before little of Kovas remains, his form turned to dust on the barren rock earth before us. Perses turns to me and nods, unable to hide the sadness in his eyes. “Thank you, Amber, for taking the burden,” he says. “There was no other way.”
I look to the circular wall of flame, spinning and coiling around us. Raising my hand, I cast it away, the blaze dissipating into the cold night air. As the rushing, roaring ends, I hear a strange silence take its place. My eyes turn out to the battlefield, where our survivors stand amid a sea of dead.
Hendricks and Maximus move towards us, hardly any of their men left. I look to the breach in the wall, and see Kira there, sitting lonely amid the rubble, staring out with a solemn gaze.
With a calm restored, my fears rise. I look to Perses, as the others step in.
“My grandmother,” I say hastily. “Elian. Are they OK?”
Perses nods. “They are fine, Amber,” he says sombrely. “The fort is safe.”
My heart lurches with a deep relief. “And Secretary Burns?” I breathe.
“All are secure,” Perses continues, his voice like far-off thunder. He looks northwards, towards the battle in the distance. All is quiet out there, the final cannon now in flames. Three, there are. Three great fires spreading to the sky, peppered with many others, the smaller carriages set alight.
“He must have won,” I say, looking on. “Ares has done his job.”
“But how dear was the cost?” asks Maximus, stepping in, his injured arm bandaged up, blood seeping through the cloth. He looks around. “A handful have survived. The Stalkers are all-but extinct. How many of my brothers and sisters have been lost too?”
It’s a question no one can answer quite yet, though one that doesn’t require us to think. Because in the gloom, we see more figures approaching, moving quickly towards us. I tense, preparing for another assault, but hear Perses’s voice hum calmly into the air.
“It is Ares,” he says. “Ares and a host of men.”
We move towards him, rushing out as they come. I scan and begin to see the silhouettes and shadows take form. A host of men, yes, but a small one. I count only forty or so left alive.
“The fort is safe?” Ares calls out, moving ahead of the rest. We join together, the fort still flaming in the distance, the Olympian convoy doing the same.
Standing in the black night, the moon now obscured by smoke and clouds, Perses nods. “We held them off,” he says. “We can thank these brave souls for that.” His eyes fall to me and the others. Ares’s own glint as they meet mine.
“I saw a flame moving through the sky,” he says, looking right at me. “I could hardly believe it.”
“Believe it,” breathes Hendricks, looking at me, his eyes framed with awe. “Without Amber, we would have been overrun. She saved many lives tonight.”
And took many more, I think, my eyes dropping briefly to the ground.
“So few have returned,” I hear Maximus say after a short pause. I look up into his eyes, stricken as they search the survivors among Ares’s troop. “Are all the rest gone, Ares?”
The mighty Neoroman nods, his armour stained by blood and soot, crimson splashed across his face. “We have paid for this victory with many lives,” he says, his own eyes etched in a commander’s grief. “Yet many more of the enemy’s were taken.” He looks to us all, one by one. “They came to weaken our cause, but we stand strong. When the Emperor comes, we will make them pay.”
A short bout of nodding ensues. Perses’s conflict remains clear, though all hearts are heavy tonight.
“Many fled,” I say, looking to Ares and the others. “Was it the same to the north?”
Ares nods at me, turning briefly in that direction. “We made them suffer enough to cause a retreat,” he tells us. “But hundreds were killed, perhaps a thousand, before they fled.” He looks towards the walls, the dead littered all around it. “It seems many hundreds more fell here.”
I nod my answer and then ask another of my own. “And Gailen?” I ask. “Did you….kill him?”
“The man who flies?” Ares asks. He shakes his head. “No, he led the retreat. The other Herald, Avon, was among them too. I injured him but he got away.” He looks to the fort again. “I saw Herald Kovas flock this way. Has he been taken care of?”
Perses nods slowly. “Kovas is defeated,” he says, his voice grave. “Amber gave him the death he earned.”
More praising eyes come my way. Then the gravity of the night quickly falls again.
Together, as one, we turn to look out towards the black expanse, two hundred miles still separating us and Olympus.
“The Emperor will be here soon,” Ares says. “We lick our wounds, and prepare for his arrival. And when he comes, we head north.”
All heads dip, eyes staring forwards. Oh, this battle may have been brutal, but there are more still to come. Olympus remains heavily defended, thought by some to be impossible to penetrate. And though their army is now weakened, and their leader lost, many powerful agents still gather under the banner of the Prime.
I draw a tense breath as I think of what still remains to come.
Tonight was only the appetiser, I know.
The main course is about to be served.
THE END
The Children of the Prime will conclude with Book 8 - Fate of the Chosen
IMPORTANT NOTE:
In the final book, it won’t only be Amber’s perspective being included, but Kira’s and Brie’s as well.
If you’re new to my
work, you may not realise that this series is part of a greater world called the ‘Enhanced Universe’. In it, Brie and Kira have been the main protagonists so far, and their own, dual perspective series has been running parallel to this one.
With them all now fighting on the same side, however, both series will be concluding in the final book, and therefore all three women are having their own points of view shown.
If you only want to read Amber’s, that’s fine. If, however, you want to enrich the story, then go ahead and read Brie and Kira’s as well.
You can also get started on their own stories too if you want. It will take some backtracking in the timeline, but the main Enhanced series, in particular, is well worth a read!
That can be for later, however. For now, go ahead and enjoy the finale to this one!
Part VIII
FATE OF THE CHOSEN
162
AMBER
I stand with Elian, looking out towards the plains, painted now with the light of an early dawn. It is red, deep like blood, a fitting colour to start the day.
Ahead, the true chaos of the battle the previous night comes into view in all its ugly, terrible glory, a battle that ended only a few short hours ago. Bodies pile towards the distance, like bundles of hay in an endless field. There are hundreds here, just outside the walls of the fort, and hundreds more within. And beyond, where the Olympian convoy, with its cannons and carriages, continues to burn, there are well over a thousand more.
I draw a breath as I look at them, my mind and body weary, but unable yet to sleep. So many of the corpses before me are blackened, scorched heaps in varying states of disintegration. Some still hold the familiar form of man, their skin and flesh merely roasted as they burned to death. Others, however, are little more than dust now, or small lumps of black tar, glued to the burned rock where they melted under my searing flame.
