"The Denhauli?" Westan asked.
Vikard nodded. "If they're real, it makes sense Verago would send them to free his demon lord. And if the stories are true, I doubt they'll be contained at the oak."
"I guess we may need your help after all," Omana relented.
Westan stepped back. "Vikard and I will keep them away from the demon lord."
The two archdons positioned the priests around the courtyard, focusing mainly on the entrance. There was a half wall with an opening in the middle, separating the courtyard from the rest of the street. As Vikard took up his post opposite Westan, another howl swept through the area.
"Whatever it is," Westan said calmly, "they're coming."
Vikard imagined what the monsters might look like. Four years ago, before the relationship between Candelux and the Death Gods went from bad to worse, there was a rumor circulating among the higher priest ranks. Reports from Alovajj talked about two massive demon wolves that served as guardians to Verago. Since they had never left the Depths, there wasn't much detail about them, only that they were unique among demons and incredibly strong. Due to the questionable interrogation methods of the Death Gods, determining the accuracy of information coming out of Alovajj was always a challenge. And so, since no one had ever seen these wolves, there was understandable skepticism. After the incident at Deimor Outpost, the story faded away. But as Vikard waited for their forms to be revealed, he no longer believed the Denhauli, Verago's wolf guardians, were a myth.
His heart hurled against his chest. His feet felt the vibrations as something large galloped toward them. There was an audible gasp from the other priests as a giant black wolf leapt from behind the corner and squared off with the group. Almost as tall as the buildings beside him, the beast bared his fangs. His companion, an equally massive red wolf, emerged next and paced menacingly back and forth.
"Fangle me," Vikard said softly. "I suppose cleansing is out of the question."
"I suppose," Westan replied.
"Don't let them near the demon lord," Vikard instructed the priests behind him. "Take them down as fast as possible. Chains, spikes, whatever you can throw at them."
"Aim for their hearts if you can," Westan added.
Without warning, the black wolf bolted down the street. Vikard's hands glowed as the shadowy demon barreled down on the humans. The giant animal pivoted and bounded onto a nearby roof, exposing the fiery wolf behind him.
"Hit the red one!" Vikard shouted.
The demon spun her vibrant red body, and her tail sent a wave of fire, embers, and ash toward her opponents. Vikard took cover behind the wall. The screams of his fellow priests filled his ears.
"I'm blind! I'm blind!"
"I'm on fire! Put me out!"
"It burns!"
Vikard hastily patted out the small flame on his own robe before attending to the priest who lost his eyesight. The shadowy wolf flew from the rooftops and into the rectory courtyard. The red wolf dashed past the injured priests to join her partner. Westan led the attack as chains and spikes of light flew at the demon wolves. Meanwhile, Vikard hurried between the priests who had been badly burned. Healing was his specialization, and so his priority was to get the injured priests back into the fight.
✽✽✽
In the courtyard, the two demon wolves snarled while Omana's group kept Erynion bound. Those uninjured under Vikard's and Westan's commands did their best to keep the wolves away from the demon lord.
"Ha! I told you they were real!" Don Tuarsh called to his sister.
"Really? You want to gloat now?" Don Hessestra shot back.
Omana cursed Vikard for assigning these bickering siblings to protect her. "Will you two Dardan idiots just shut up and kill those things?"
"Yes, Your Grace!" they said in unison.
Vikard moved between downed priests while Westan rallied those still fighting. Omana knew it wasn't going to be enough. Her group had to help hold off these wolves in time for the rest of the fighters to arrive. She looked down at Erynion. His head hung low and his body was limp. Was he unconscious? There was no time to debate with herself whether this was a trick. "I have the demon lord! Drop your restraints and help kill those wolves!"
All at once, the holy chains disintegrated, save the unbreakable binding. As the priests under her command joined the battle, Omana studied her prisoner. When did he fall asleep? And how could he fall asleep with the light burning him?
A battle cry filled the air as the priests and soldiers from the oak sprinted down the street to engage the Denhauli. Corruption surged from the black demon, creating a small haven for the wolves. As the red wolf pointed her muzzle skyward, her fur shifted to bright orange before turning nearly white. With an ear-piercing howl, a ring of fire flew out in all directions. Omana wailed as the blaze licked her robes, but her blessing stayed strong. Don Hessestra and Don Tuarsh extinguished the small flames that had latched to Omana's clothing.
"Are you all right, Your Grace?" Hess asked.
The archdon fought back the pain. "I'm fine. I'm fine."
A second battle cry came from the rooftops where dozens of iymed and hundreds of fray brandished their weapons. The paladins and watchers provided a row of protection in front of their robe-wearing allies. The demons roared again as they descended on their foes.
"Ogari vojjirol gadrof!"
"Lome dalik!"
Light and steel flashed across the courtyard as the humans tried to thin the numbers of the demon army. The enemy countered with Corruption, fire, and blades of their own. But on the outskirts of the fight, Omana determined the true goal should be killing Erynion as soon as possible. She recalled how he'd been unaffected by Don Shatha's lumenail. If Erynion was to be killed, it had to be with a real blade.
Omana scoured the area for a paladin. "Sir Illian! Sir Illian!"
Sir Illian was a Champion of the Light guardian and leader of the Paladin Order in Royal Oak. Illian effortlessly finished off his quarry before rushing to the archdon. A demon crossed into his path, and without hesitation, he sent the imp sideways with his shield.
"Your Grace?" Illian said.
"I need you to kill the demon lord this instant!"
The paladin hesitated.
"There's no time," the archdon insisted. "Hurry, before it's too late!"
Illian handed his shield to Don Hess and raised his arm to deliver the mortal blow. However, the blade didn't fall. The paladin's hand was caught in the jaws of the massive black wolf. Illian shrieked as the beast jerked his head and sent the guardian sailing through the air. The monstrous wolf towered over Erynion and locked eyes with Omana.
"Angels, help us," she whispered.
The black beast lowered his head and prepared to strike. Tuarsh and Hess stepped in front of Omana, but the wolf batted them aside. Blessings of Lumenail embedded into his fur, but he kept his gaze fixed. As the beast launched himself forward, Omana dropped her Blessing of Unbreakable Binding and dove out of the way. She hastened to her feet and cursed herself. Although Erynion appeared unconscious, the demon lord was no longer restrained. The black wolf's lip curled and his jaws parted. He shifted his body into a striking position. Omana opened her hands to reveal the two small Talisman replicas chained to her palms. She began to glow as ripples of light moved down her arms.
"May the power of the angels flow through me. Grant me the strength to fortify my soul and summon the light to strike down my foes. I invoke the Blessing of the Fallen Angel!"
Chapter 29
Birth of the Demon Lord
The Denhauli.
He'd heard that word before, but where? The demon lord winced as his mind felt an incredible pressure. When the two giant wolves appeared, an image flashed through his mind. His eyes grew heavy, and he felt the dream pulling him in. Although the next memory might reveal his identity, Erynion didn't wish to lose consciousness amid the conflict. Not here. Not now. But his fight was futile. He carefully sat on his feet and allowed his head to fall at the same
time as his eyelids.
When he was able to see again, he expected to be in the royal gardens, playing as a young teenager with his brother and sister. But what he saw was nothing of the sort. From his height, Erynion determined he was an adult in this memory. He stood in the center of a large room, dimly lit by torches. The walls and floor, though cut out of the earth, appeared smooth and well crafted. Before him was a figure on a throne, shrouded by the shadows. On either side of the throne rested a giant wolf, the red one nearly as large as the black one.
The silhouette spoke. "Welcome, Altheus."
Instantly, everything was clear in his mind. No blurred image, no misunderstanding. He knew where he was, when he was, who he was. The voice of the figure was the same voice that gave him instructions during his time on the Surface. The same voice that told him his purpose was to kill his brother, King Batar.
And the name. After all the torture and misery of the last few days, Erynion finally remembered his real name, his identity: Prince Altheus, son of King Cato. Three years ago, he was captured alive by Verago and brought to the Depths. This was the memory he was witnessing.
"What's going on? What do you want with me?" Altheus asked.
"Truthfully, it's not you I wanted, but your brother."
"Batar? Why?"
Verago rose and made his way to the massive red wolf. His fingers combed her fur. "Your brother is not as innocent as you believe. You have been betrayed."
"Oh? And I'm supposed to believe that? You're the traitor to all humankind."
"A harsh title, to be sure," Verago said calmly as he descended the stairs. "But unjust and all propaganda. I was humanity's greatest hero once. They even put my name on a big wall. But, that's a story overshadowed by the lies of a deceitful king, just as your story will become twisted by your brother."
As the Devil stepped into the light of the torches, Altheus cringed. Even in the royal gardens, moments before capturing the prince, Verago had stayed in the shadows. Altheus expected a deformed monster, but his fear subsided as Verago's appearance was ordinary. He was of average height with modest features. His hair a mix of brown and blond, and his eyes the color of chestnuts. His shirt was made of cloth with tightly interwoven laces across the front, keeping his chest hidden. His baggy pants were made from old leather.
"May I show you something?" Verago asked politely.
"Um, I suppose." Altheus was thrown off guard by the hospitality. They moved to an adjacent room, and Verago presented a large painting on the wall. The canvas depicted an angel, amid a plethora of demons, wielding a large axe in one hand with light radiating from the other.
"That looks like you," Altheus commented.
"That's because it is me, once upon a time. The kingdom was in serious danger. The demon army was growing stronger from the Amulet. The wanderers had absorbed power without focus and had created an army of fray, thousands of them. Alova had already fallen. Memorial City was their next target."
"I know this story."
"Do you?" Verago challenged.
"You led the charge into battle on the Plains of Deimor. You were killed. But before the fight, the Candelux priests tethered your soul to King Prevarra so you could return from the beyond in case you died."
"In case I died?" The Devil snorted. "The plan was for me to die."
"The plan? You went in knowing you would die?"
"Yes, can you imagine that? It was a willing sacrifice, though. It had to be. If I had any regrets about it, I wouldn't have transcended."
The captured prince stared at the painting. "And you never would've gained your power."
"Yes, but that's not what happened. I did transcend. And the power I returned with as an angel turned the tide of the war. The kingdom was saved. We retook Alova and the demons fled down here, into the Depths."
"Then why did you betray us? Why did you steal the Amulet of Yezda and rebuild the demon army?"
Verago sighed. "It didn't jump straight to that. There were many events that led to what happened. There was one other sacrifice I made that no one speaks of in your history lessons."
"Oh?"
"The soul binding cost me eternal rest. Once I crossed back to the Surface, I'd be trapped here. The tether that pulled me back would prevent me and the person to whom I was connected from transcending. One soul would always act as an anchor for the other."
"Then how'd you transcend to begin with?"
"The initial ritual between me and my brother was just a connection, like an open road between two cities," Verago explained. "It simply exists, but there's no substance, no energy. An empty path. When I died, the bond was filled with energy and that's what created the tether that brought me back. Once it's made, it cannot be unmade."
"So where's King Prevarra now?" Altheus asked.
"My brother is no doubt an angel on the other side. Though the soul bond can never be destroyed, it can be transferred to other souls of similar energy. In order to prevent Prevarra from suffering, his side of the link was passed on to his daughter, Thira, when she became queen. And again, to her son, Vask, when he took the throne."
"King Vask? It was during his reign that you stole the Amulet."
Verago's nostrils flared. "I had no choice. Except for a handful of faithful supporters, humanity had turned its back on me. Under the reigns of my brother and niece, there was progress. I worked tirelessly with Candelux to produce an artifact that could counter the Amulet."
Altheus's eyes lit up. "The Talisman of Zavi."
"Yes. It was the only way to stop the demons for good. But things took a turn for the worse when Vask became king. He was always such a petty and spoiled boy. Despite my efforts to counsel him, he saw me only as a tool to be ordered about. I was like a slave to him, and the kingdom was just a playground for him to rule over. Due to the constant demon threat, Candelux grew rapidly, and soon Primus Zavi became one of the main advisors to the king. Vask became sick of the nobility, and his thoughts were poisoned with talks of conspiracy and rebellion. I advised caution. We were so close to stopping the demons. A war among ourselves would've put all that at risk and thrown the kingdom into chaos. But, he didn't listen. He recklessly dissolved the Royal Throne. The three noble families became restless as their influence outside of their respective cities was all but gone."
"But, there was no war. Vask prevented conflict by allowing Corriani to marry his son."
Verago grabbed his wrist behind his back. "That's true. The joining of the Shabinne and Thoris lineage put an end to the unrest, but that came more than a decade later. In the meantime, the nobles built their armies in secret, waiting for their opportunity to strike the capital. But who would dare attack a king with an angel by his side?"
"Yes, that would seem foolish."
"It was around that same time that Zavi and I finally completed the Talisman. We discovered the artifact was so powerful, there was a way it could help me to transcend once again. If Vask allowed it, his side of the soul bond would be transferred to the Talisman. And when the Amulet of Yezda and the Talisman of Zavi were brought together, they would destroy each. In one single action, my soul would be free, and the demons would lose all of their power. Vask agreed to the transfer, but once it was complete, he hid the Talisman away."
Altheus was unfamiliar with this story. "That's not what happened. With the help of the priests, Vask combined the Talisman and the Amulet. Their powers negated each other. The kingdom was at peace until you broke the artifacts apart and took the Amulet for yourself."
Verago laughed. "Yes, that's the lie he told everyone. It's the same lie that sits in all the history books. But, the Talisman and the Amulet never met. You see, the noble families were dying to overthrow Vask. He promised me if I stayed by his side and protected him, he'd give me the Talisman to complete my mission. He just needed to calm the nobles first. But he lied about that too. For five years, I protected him. I was essentially trapped in that castle. In my absence from the battlefield, the demon numbers sta
rted to grow again. I finally realized Vask would never cease being selfish, caring only for his own life, his own power. He had no intention of saving the kingdom."
There was no proof that the Devil's account was any more accurate than the history books, but Altheus was intrigued by the tale. "How can you expect me to believe anything you're saying? Everyone I know believes King Vask was a hero, and you lashed out at him and stole the Amulet."
"I suppose that's to be expected. Perhaps I'll explain what really happened when you're ready to hear it. But no doubt, you know of the Brotherhood of Prevarra. They know the truth, and they're my only human support. Before Vask destroyed all trace of my legacy, the Brotherhood salvaged this one image of me. It took me years to get it just right, but I've recreated myself as closely as possible. Come."
Verago lead the prince back into the throne room. The fires on the walls had grown considerably, and no part of the room fell in the shadows. Verago ascended the stairs and sat on his throne. "Altheus, there's no easy way to tell you this, but you have been betrayed, much like I was."
"Again with this? My own brother wouldn't betray me."
"Of course, I don't expect you to believe me at face value. You can decide for yourself. Growing up, you were always better than Batar, weren't you? More athletic, more charming, more intelligent, some might even suggest more handsome. I've heard the whispers from the souls. But then, something changed. Seven years ago, he unexpectedly beat you in one-on-one combat. The women began to swoon over him as they overlooked you. Your father even began to consult with him on official matters. It's no wonder that the all-powerful Prima Mashira allowed him to court her."
The prince scoffed. "Is that the extent of your proof? People grow up and get stronger. Beating me made him more confident, and everyone knows women love a man with confidence. Plus, I was engaged to marry Nila, which took me out of the picture. And as for my father, he was probably just waiting for Batar to come of age before consulting with him."
"Yes, yes, naturally. But, you don't really believe that. Whether you realize it, your suspicion has always been apparent. Admit it. The change was so drastic and in such a short period. You went from dominating him physically to never being able to beat him again in a fair fight. Even during your engagement, women ignored Batar and fawned over you, but then they suddenly took interest in him. And not long after that, your father began to favor Batar as an advisor and possibly his successor."
The Twisted Gate Page 28
