Galanӧr could sense the fury and rage within his queen. Those subtleties gave away her faith, a faith not shared by her kin, and reminded him that the old ways were gone. Instead, he saw an elf who had embraced pain and torment to a level that now required an outlet.
“We need to get out of the city,” he said with some urgency; the distant cries were no longer so distant.
“Not before it burns,” Adilandra replied absently. “Not before she burns.”
The Goddess. It could only be the wicked queen of the Darkakin who Adilandra would see suffer the most. Galanӧr didn't want to think of the terrible things The Goddess had inflicted on his queen beside the barbaric arena.
“Where is she?” Galanӧr asked, his eyes now fixed on the adjoining room, waiting for the next horde to come running through the smoke.
Adilandra was yet to take her eyes from Ilargo. “She ran.”
“We need to go. Gideon must be here somewhere.” Galanӧr was hesitant to even leave his queen’s side, having only just found her again, but he needed his scimitars for what was coming.
“Gideon…” Adilandra repeated his name as if the mage were a distant memory.
Eventually, Ilargo disappeared over the city and the elves fled the burning rooms. Shadows danced across the interior walls, with mobs of Darkakin closing in on the pyramid and hunting their invaders. Galanӧr was torn between the need to fight and the need to escape.
“What are you doing?” he asked, noticing Adilandra’s absence.
The queen was stalking down the corridor that led to the pyramid’s base level, an open square that was quickly filling with savages if the noise was anything to go by.
“We can't get out that way!” Galanӧr hissed. He hadn't come all this way to lose Adilandra to her own madness.
Adilandra was confident in her strides as she came to the top of the ramp. “They will all burn.”
3
Reckoning
Adilandra stood ready, every destructive spell she knew on the edge of her lips. Her hands tingled with the build up in energy. For too long, the queen of elves had been a captive of these monsters, her magic kept from her. Not anymore. Without the green crystals, she was a force of nature the Darkakin had never experienced before. She alone had the power to bring down the entire pyramid and burn their civilisation to the ground.
Any thoughts of the old ways were buried deep now. For so long Adilandra had wanted nothing but to return her people to the ways of their ancestors, before all the wars, but there was no place for that here. Here there was only savagery, and she would give it to them.
The restless mob of Darkakin was a mix of soldiers and ordinary citizens, though in Malaysai that just meant she was surrounded by cannibals, rapists and murderers. Galanӧr was quick to join her but Adilandra was already sprinting down the ramp. The soldiers reacted first, pushing through to reach her, but their only accomplishment was to find death sooner than the others. The queen of elves jumped high into the air, before the group of Darkakin were within arm’s reach, and came down with her hand to the ground. The telekinetic pressure between her hand and the ground exploded, throwing the soldiers into the mob.
Her elven ears caught the sound of multiple limbs snapping out of place and shattering altogether. With her strength alone, Adilandra was a force to be reckoned with. Never bothering to pick up a spear or a sword, the queen of elves lashed out with her fists and feet. Every impact was enough to end a life or ensure it would never be the same again.
Galanӧr’s warrior cry signalled his foray into the battle. His scimitars whistled through the air, cutting their enemies down with precision, proving the elf to be a surgeon with his weapons. The horde was suddenly torn between those who wanted to tear into the elves and those who wanted to live.
Adilandra let loose her magic and began taking lives three or four at a time. The air around her crackled and flashed with spells designed to inflict maximum pain and damage, manipulating the elements into something cruel. There was a part of her, in the back of her mind, that appalled her actions, a part of her that knew these images would haunt her for eternity.
The sound of rhythmic footfalls echoed through the hall. They were the feet of soldiers, not ordinary Darkakin. The rest of the mob fled the square while Adilandra and Galanӧr finished those around them, dispatching the bodies into mosaics across the floor. Seeing the new cluster of savages frustrated the queen; The Goddess would be fleeing further every second.
It was obvious by the way Galanӧr was holding himself up that the elf was in considerable pain. Adilandra couldn't see all of his injuries, but more than a few had to be internal after his fight with the giant. Digging deep, the queen found her reserves of magic that would serve her in this fight, though she knew some rest would be required unless she wanted to burn out.
Sudden cries of pain erupted from the back of the soldiers’ group. The surprise attack had them all turning around, ignoring the elves, and facing their new enemy. Still, the cries rang out and the Darkakin started to drop and the sprays of blood could be seen over their heads. Adilandra couldn't believe her old eyes when Gideon Thorn emerged in the middle of the savages. The mage moved with the grace of an elf, both his speed and apparent strength greater than those around him. Perhaps the most unusual sight was that he wielded a sword instead of his staff.
Gideon twirled, ducked and skidded around his enemies, all the time his blade sweeping about him to parry and attack. Galanӧr’s expression mirrored her own, as the two could only watch the mage reduced the group to a pile of lifeless bodies around him. It was only seconds before he was left standing on his own, panting for breath, with a scimitar in his hand, the blade as clean as the day it was forged.
“Gideon!” Galanӧr exclaimed.
The elf ran for the human and the two embraced for a short moment. They shared a look that Adilandra couldn't decipher, but it was apparent that the two had gone through their own trials since she last saw them.
Upon seeing the queen, Gideon bowed his head. There were tears in the young man’s eyes and the words on the edge of his lips struggled to find a voice. “I… I’m sorry. Galanӧr never lost faith; he knew you had to be alive. I didn’t -”
Adilandra cupped Gideon’s cheek in her hand, her thumb gently wiping the ash and blood from his skin. Looking into his eyes, feeling his skin, and taking in the new aura that surrounded the mage gave the queen pause. There was something different, something new about him that hadn't been there before.
“Is that what I think it is?” Galanӧr asked, his gaze locked on the scimitar in Gideon’s hand.
The question broke the three up and Adilandra took a step back from the mage. Ancient memories were tugged from the deep when she took in the sword and its red and gold hilt.
Galanӧr held up Gideon’s arm. “You have Mournblade! How? When?”
Gideon replied with a tired smile. “When I knew you needed me.”
Adilandra couldn't believe the pieces of the puzzle before her. “You have a Vi’tari blade?”
Gideon appeared confused. “Ilargo said the same thing. What’s a Vi’tari?”
“Ilargo said?” Adilandra almost gasped before her hand found her mouth. “You are… You’re a Dragorn?”
Gideon gripped the hilt a little tighter. “I am.”
Adilandra couldn't contain her smile. Seeing a Dragorn for the first time in a millennium brought tears to her eyes and softened her edge. “You are bonded with Ilargo?” The queen looked up as if the green dragon was above them.
“You pulled it from the stone?” Galanӧr was still captivated by the blade, though Adilandra was lost by his question. “How did you learn to fight like that? I’ve never seen -”
“We’ll have to talk more when we get out of here.” Gideon interrupted, glancing over his shoulder. “There are more coming.”
“No.” Adilandra was blunt. “Not before I find The Goddess.” That harder edge was quickly returning, along with the memories of her captiv
ity.
Gideon looked to protest but Galanӧr spoke up. “I agree we need to leave, but the head of this snake needs removing.”
“This entire civilisation is an ally for Valanis,” Adilandra added. “The world should be rid of them.”
Gideon didn't look completely convinced, but he nodded his head. “Give me a minute.”
Adilandra shared a quizzical expression with Galanӧr while the two waited for Gideon, who was simply looking up to the ceiling in silence.
“She’s entering the arena!” he finally cried. “Come on!” The mage ran over the bodies and headed for the light.
Adilandra paused before following, still amazed at the revelation before her. Gideon had communed with Ilargo, just as the Dragorn of old had done. They were beyond the exchange of simple emotions now and were actually speaking to each other. She was only a young elf when the last of the Dragorn had been around, but tales of their prowess in battle were legendary, speaking of how the dragons could relay information to them from the skies. How Gideon, a human, was a Dragorn was a burning question in her mind, but it would all have to wait.
“Are you sure?” Galanӧr asked, quickly becoming the slowest of the three.
“Yes,” Gideon replied, pausing to assess which street to take. “Ilargo can see her.”
Adilandra ran through the chaotic streets, more aware than ever that she was truly free. The pyramid behind them was still smoking and the fires inside were spreading, a symbol of her broken chains.
Now for retribution.
The queen of elves followed Gideon while keeping a close eye on Galanӧr, who was clearly struggling. Ilargo’s magnificent shadow continued to swoop over the top of them, reminding Adilandra that they had a dragon for an escort. His continued presence was enough to keep the streets and alleys clear.
The arena was easy to find, built upon three massive legs of red rock. The only way inside was through the spiral staircases inside the hollowed legs. It was here that the first of The Goddess’ defenses crossed their path. Adilandra was ready with a spell, but Gideon took point and cut the Darkakin horde down with enviable skill. The bodies tumbled down the stairs behind them as the three finally came to the arena’s level.
Stepping onto the sandy ground brought with it the pain of memories, of being forced to entertain the masses with daily fights. In the middle of the arena, as confident as she was sadistic, The Goddess stood. With most of her body on show, the woman was covered in head-to-toe tattoos. Her nails had been sharpened into wicked points, along with her teeth. She was nothing but an animal in Adilandra’s eyes. The three approached the evil queen, meeting her in the middle.
The Goddess taunted, “You should have stayed my pet, old one. Given time, I would have stripped you bare of all that holds you back. You wouldn't even have been recognisable as an elf. You could have been so much more.”
Adilandra could feel her hands trembling with anger. “You would have me worse than a monster. You would have turned me into one of you…”
The Goddess smiled from ear-to-ear. “And if you survive this, I still might.”
The trap had been obvious to Adilandra from the minute they saw The Goddess alone, in the middle of the arena. It was only when the streams of Darkakin poured into the arena from all sides that she felt the stab of regret. Selfishly, she had allowed Galanӧr and Gideon to wander into the trap with her, just so she could kill The Goddess. Perhaps a part of her had been tainted by the Darkakin…
Both Galanӧr and Gideon sprung into action with their blades held high, but the distraction had given The Goddess the precious few seconds she needed to disappear into the rushing mob. Adilandra cried out in rage and frustration, unleashing a barrage of spells that felled almost every Darkakin between her and The Goddess. The flashes of energy gave Galanӧr and Gideon the advantage over their blinded attackers, allowing them to slice through the first wave.
That was when the sky cracked.
A roar that froze every living creature to the bone brought the battle to a complete stop. It was a roar Adilandra had only heard once before, inside this very arena, when she first met Galanӧr and Gideon. The rock beneath them shook and the head of a black dragon reared over the lip of the highest tier. Blazing, purple eyes scanned them all, as smoke trailed from his nose and the side of his mouth. When the dragon’s bulk finally climbed over the edge and his fierce tail whipped in the air, Malliath the voiceless released a torrent of fire upon the Darkakin that surrounded them. If the savages screamed it couldn't be heard over the unbridled force of the dragon’s breath.
The arena shook again and another dragon, almost as big as Malliath, landed on the other side of the stands. This red dragon roared in the faces of the petrified Darkakin and unleashed a breath of pure ice. The savages ran in every direction but the fire and ice could not be avoided; only those in the center, beside Adilandra and the others, were safe. At least from dragon’s breath. Galanӧr and Gideon danced about the flames and ice with their scimitars working into a frenzy.
Adilandra was only looking for one.
Amidst the chaos, her elven eyes found The Goddess half crawling, half running to the safety of the cells. Her subjects were burning from both fire and ice around her, but The Goddess cared only for her own life. Adilandra broke from the safety of their circle and ran for her prey. With only a few feet between them, the two great dragons held their breath, the arena cleansed of Darkakin life. Malliath huffed and took off, heading deeper into the city with a mighty roar. The red dragon stepped into the arena, crushing the frozen bodies under his thick claws.
The Goddess tried to make a dash for the cells but her path was suddenly cut off by the most majestic dragon Adilandra had ever had the privilege of seeing. Rainael the emerald star dropped out of the sky and stood on all four legs between The Goddess and the cells. Adilandra had only seen the queen of dragons twice before in her long life; once in Illian, before the elves left for Ayda, and again at Mount Garganafan, when the dragons sealed the mountain shut to keep the dragon eggs safe inside. If nothing else, she recognised the fury on Rainael’s face, as she looked down at The Goddess.
Stuck between Rainael and Adilandra, the queen of the Darkakin squirmed and stayed very low, as if her instincts demanded she cower in their presence. There was still a wicked edge to her tattooed features, reminding Adilandra that they had just cornered a feral animal. Dragon and elf shared a look and Adilandra knew that Rainael would allow her to decide The Goddess’ fate.
“Do it!” the wicked queen hissed. “Do it! Killing me will just prove you’re the monster I desired. I made you!”
Adilandra sighed. She finally stood before The Goddess and had her completely at her mercy, but that last step seemed so much harder to take in the presence of the dragons. Not only had the dragons returned but also an emergence of the Dragorn, and with them both she felt the hope rekindle that had been buried under the Darkakins’ torture.
With a snarl worthy of the creature she was, The Goddess pounced from her prone position and swiped her deadly nails in Adilandra’s face. Seeing the desperate attack for what it was, Adilandra easily evaded the claws and instead snatched The Goddess’ wrist from the air. A simple squeeze snapped the bone inside, eliciting a scream from the evil queen. Another swift movement had Adilandra’s foot pushing The Goddess’ knee through the back of her leg. The next scream accompanied her collapse to the ground.
“I won't kill you.” Adilandra crouched over her and firmly gripped The Goddess’ other wrist. “You get to listen to your world crumble.” Another squeeze had the wrist broken and the evil queen writhing in agony, tears flowing down her cheeks. “If you scream loud enough, any who survive today might come to your aid.” Adilandra dropped her fist into The Goddess’ only working knee and dislocated it. When her final scream died away she stood over Malaysai’s cruel ruler. “Or maybe they’ll just eat you. Who knows with your people...”
Adilandra walked away without another word, taking a moment to enjoy
The Goddess’ defying scream.
4
Those Left Behind
Asher wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, staring into the desert. The south was behind him now and Nightfall with it. Somewhere under all that rock was yet another person who didn't deserve to die, another person who had died instead of him. Faylen had died for them and in the process even managed to rid the world of Alidyr, Valanis’ highest general. For the rest of his life, Asher knew there would be a part of him that never settled and never found peace, having been robbed of ending the wretch’s life himself. He hated the elf all the more for taking Faylen with him.
“You couldn't have saved her…”
Asher blinked slowly in an effort to control his temper. Even the croaky, old voice of Nasta Nal-Aket had his muscles tensing and his heart pounding.
“What do you care?” Asher replied, turning from the south and continuing their sluggish journey north.
“I do not,” Nasta joined him, his lidless sockets never focusing on anything. “But I could always sense that in you, even from a boy.”
“I don't know what you’re talking about.” Asher had no intention of taking part in any conversation with his old mentor.
“Don't abandon your emotions now, Asher. Not after embracing them so much. You’ve risked everything to experience life as one of them.” Nasta nodded towards Nathaniel and Reyna, who walked some distance ahead.
“I genuinely can't tell if you’re mocking me.” Asher ploughed ahead, hoping that Nasta would take the hint.
“Mock you? No, I would never be so careless. This life you have forged is not the one I envisioned for you, but you made your choice - not a luxury available to every assassin of Nightfall.”
“Choice?” Asher instantly regretted the bait he had taken, but he couldn't hold his tongue. “What choice? You would have had me killing for decades until eventually I took your sorry life and replaced you as Father.”
Relic of the Gods: (Echoes of Fate Book 3) Page 4
