He would finally have his vengeance.
Farouk stood with Faeraon outside the tower. The others had gathered on the roof to observe and assist Jodocus as he directed the portal to the ground below. It slowly descended, still facing downward, and fluttered around its edges as the wind pelted its energy.
“That’s it,” Farouk whispered. “Just a little closer.”
The portal continued to descend until it hovered just above the ground. Farouk raised his staff, directing it to turn sideways and steady itself.
“Call to your people, Faeraon,” he said. “In your mind. Tell them to come to their king.”
Faeraon moved to the front of the portal, gazing into its murky black depths. He stood proudly, holding his sword in a regal stance as he focused.
“Come to me,” he whispered. “Come to me, my people.”
“Farouk!” Aeli shouted form above. The Grand Druid looked up, seeing her point to the east.
He turned, shocked at what he saw.
In the valley below, a massive army of dark things was approaching. And at their head, a familiar face.
“It’s the Corruptor,” Faeraon said, still facing the portal. “I can feel his presence.”
“Keep focusing,” Farouk said.
Traegus appeared next to Farouk, glaring downward at the approaching army. “Cambions,” he said. “Sons of demons, like Tyrus himself.”
“Farouk!” Faeraon called. “They are coming! I can see them.”
“Keep the demons at bay,” Farouk told Traegus, returning to Faeraon’s side. Behind him, he heard Traegus chanting a spell.
The portal shimmered as shadowy beings stepped through. Farouk gazed into its depths, seeing thousands of them gathered within. The Alvar had heard their king. Farouk focused on the spell he had deciphered, gathering his energy to form a field that would spread across the portal. The equations flashed into his mind, arranging themselves in the proper sequence that would unlock the field.
Then, it burst outward from Farouk’s staff.
The Alvar charged out of the portal in material form, their bodies having been transformed back into matter. They were as Faeraon was; tall and regal in appearance, almost divine. They were armored in gleaming steal, and bore weapons that were nearly as beautiful as they were themselves. Faeraon raised his sword, turning around to face the dark army below.
“Attack!” he shouted.
Faeraon’s army charged, rushing past Farouk and Traegus behind their king. Above, Jodocus held the portal open as the Alvar continued to pour out. Traegus cast a blinding light down the hill in front of the king’s army, blasting the darkness away like a divine wave.
The battle was on.
Malthor’s eyes widened as he saw the massive force of Alvar flow down the hill like water. At their head, Faeraon bounded down like a harbinger of doom, his face a mask of vengeance and hate.
“Prepare your spears!” Malthor shouted, suddenly regretting taking point at the head of his army.
The demons crouched, planting their spears into the ground and facing their deadly tips toward the charging Alvar. They growled in fury, shouting dark curses into the night.
Malthor disappeared.
Faeraon and his warriors leaped over the front line of spearmen, cutting them down as they passed. The Alvar furiously plowed through the demonic force behind him, and the sound of clashing steel filled the night.
Faeraon, fearless and determined, attacked relentlessly, proud and driven by the presence of his people. He cut the demons down by the dozens, growling as his blade sliced them to ribbons. His warriors fought with equal fury, cutting through them effortlessly.
“Send them back to hell!” Faeraon shouted. “Protect this land from their darkness!”
The Alvar shouted their war cries, continuing their onslaught.
The Corruptor appeared on the tower’s roof, avoiding the Grand Druid and the wizard. Aeli shouted in surprise, gathering Jodocus and shoving him behind her. Maedoc immediately blasted Malthor with a bolt of lightning, but the Corruptor was not affected. He shrugged off the blast as if it were nothing.
“Maedoc,” Malthor said. “I grow weary of your foolish attempts. Time for you to die.”
The Corruptor blasted Maedoc with brilliant fire, knocking the seer back and throwing him to the ground with great force.
“No!” Aeli shouted.
Maedoc flailed as the fire surged around him, burning his very soul. He called on the Dragon for protection, but his mind was weary with the pain.
Aeli cast a protection spell over Maedoc, shielding him from the Corruptor’s magic. Malthor turned to her in anger, his face twisted and fearsome.
“Foolish woman!” he hissed. “How dare you interfere?!”
He waved his hand at Aeli, sending her sprawling to the floor.
Behind her was the most fearsome sight Malthor had ever beheld.
Jodocus stood shocked. He looked at Aeli, who was once again helpless and wounded. He glared at Malthor with eyes that were filled with all the fury of the Universe. Malthor released Maedoc from his spell, turning to the boy. He could sense the great power within him, and the even greater energy that had recently gathered from the summoning spell. Whatever this child was, he was doom to all darkness.
“Back to the grave, Jodocus!” Malthor hissed, releasing a spell.
Lightning arced toward the boy. Jodocus held out his hands, absorbing the force of the magic and giggling as it arced between his fingers. Malthor scowled.
“What are you!?” he demanded.
Wordlessly, Jodocus thrust his hand at Malthor, releasing the magic back to its originator. But when it hit, it had been greatly increased by Jodocus’ own power. Malthor was blasted back and he slid along the stone painfully, stopping just inches from the edge. Jodocus stepped toward him, a strange glow enveloping him as his body began to change.
Before the Corruptor’s eyes, the boy transformed; he became taller, older, and more sinister. His blonde hair grew until it draped into his face, shielding his cold blue stare. Malthor attempted to push himself away, feeling the edge of the tower’s roof behind him. He cursed, summoning a spell to teleport to safety.
But Jodocus caught him in a web of magic, lifting him into the air and binding him in threads of ethereal matter. Malthor screamed in pain as the cords cut through his dead flesh, grinding into the bone, and down into his very soul.
Aeli awoke, sitting in an upright position. She was shocked when she saw Jodocus. He was no longer a little boy, but had grown into young man. He looked more than twice as old as he did before, and his face was no longer that of her innocent, loving child. He was now on the verge of losing that innocence with what his spell was doing.
“Jodocus…” she called half-heartedly. The boy turned. Though his face was filled with rage and hate, he still smiled.
“Mama,” he said. “I know how to send The Lifegiver away.”
Jodocus thrust his free hand into the air, opening the portal to Limbo once again. He threw Malthor into it, drawing back the ethereal threads with such a force that the dark wizard’s body was cut to pieces. His remains were drawn into the vortex, disappearing into its depths as his spirit howled in anguish.
Jodocus then dropped his hands, allowing the vortex to dissipate. Aeli stood, remaining still as Jodocus became calm. She looked at him lovingly. The rage was gone from his face, replaced by the wizened visage that once belonged to his namesake.
“I need some new clothes, mama,” he said, looking down at his shredded trousers.
Aeli rushed to him, embracing him.
“You did it, Jodocus,” she said. “You sent him away.”
Jodocus leaned his head against her shoulder. “I’m tired now, mama. Can I go to sleep?”
“Yes. Yes, sleep now. I will tend to Maedoc.”
Aeli turned in the fallen seer’s direction, seeing that Allora had already begun helping him. The Alvar knelt over him, running her hands over his face to impart he
r healing power.
“Is he alright?” Aeli asked as she approached.
Allora looked up, smiling. “Yes, Aeli. He will be fine. We should get him inside. He and Jodocus will both need rest.”
Farouk, Traegus, and the moorcat had joined the battle. The Grand Druid’s sword sung in the air as his staff released deadly magic at the demons that surrounded them. Traegus bashed them with his staff and his bare fists, enjoying the feel of his new improved strength. The moorcat tore into the demons with his claws and teeth, roaring with the glory of battle.
Ahead, Faeraon spotted the surrounding trees moving, and then dozens of demons at the back of the horde falling one by one. Another force had joined the battle, but remained hidden in the shadows. Faeraon called out to his warriors, encouraging them to finish the last of their enemies.
Onward they pushed, aided by their new allies. The horde was driven back into the shadows of the valley, and their escape seemed certain. Suddenly, the demons called out, crying in pain as another force appeared from the darkness and cut them down. Faeraon could sense the presence of familiar folk; the Druaga. He knew them well.
He had fought at their side many times in the past.
As the sun began to peek above the horizon, the archers appeared from the forest. Dozens of Rangers blended into the battle, fiercely driving the demonic lines back until the allies were able to fight side by side.
From his vantage point atop the tower, the Keeper smiled.
Victory was near.
Chapter Twenty Three
Kingu smashed his fist onto a formation of rock, shattering it to a million pieces as Khalid and the Dragon rolled to another source of cover. Frustrated, the giant roared, sweeping the rubble away to find the trespassers.
“That was close!” Khalid shouted.
“Watch out!” the Dragon shouted back.
Khalid rolled out of the way just as the massive fist crushed his hiding place. As he stopped, he looked up at Kingu’s face. Even from behind the giant’s helmet his face was a visible mask of rage. But, when the giant spotted Khalid lying helpless on his back, he stopped. He stared at Khalid curiously, his head cocked and neutral. Khalid slowly squirmed back, pulling up his feet to make another escape.
“Be still,” he heard the Dragon whisper.
Khalid swallowed, unsure whether to do as the Dragon said, or to make a run for it. The old Khalid, Jindala Sheikh, would have fled. But the new Khalid, Priest of Drakkar… really wanted to flee as well, but he remained still.
Kingu’s form came closer, his face lowering to get a better view of the prone priest. Khalid’s breathing quickened. He knew the giant could squash him easily, and he did not relish the thought of becoming a stain on the cavern floor. Nevertheless, he allowed the giant to investigate.
Kingu’s face, like the rest of him, was pitted stone. When he moved his facial features, there was a crunching sound and a small shower of shattered rock that fell. His eyes, though emanating the reddish glow, were lifeless stone as well. How this creature was alive was beyond Khalid. But the Firstborn were creatures of divinity; even this alien one.
“Gaia,” Kingu whispered, sensing the Great Mother’s spirit within the priest.
Then, his face contorted again and he raised his fist to deliver a crushing blow. Khalid sprang to his feet, dashing away just as Kingu’s fist bashed a crater into the cavern floor. The Dragon, seizing the opportunity, leaped over Kingu’s forearm, slicing it with his sword as he passed. The magical blade cut deeply into Kingu’s wrist, causing the giant to roar and pain and stand up clutching his wound.
“I think you just made him angrier.” Khalid said as the Dragon settled beside him. “We should flee again.”
“Right!” the Dragon replied as he watched Kingu lift his foot to stomp their new hiding place.
The two dashed off into the shadows just as the massive foot crushed the archway. The impact was massive, and the two of them were thrown to the ground as the cavern shook.
“Toward the center!” the Dragon shouted, sprinting in the direction of the orange glow.
“All of this racket may awaken Theia!” Khalid offered as he sprinted behind.
Kingu saw them rushing through the ruins and quickly stomped his way toward them. Rubble flew in every direction and the cavern shook with every footstep. The shaking made it difficult to run, but the two managed to come in sight of a circular wall that marked the end of the ruins.
“That must be it,” the Dragon said. “Look out!”
A massive foot crushed the floor where Khalid and the Dragon had stopped. The two of them had rolled away at the last second, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow. Khalid landed hard on his back, and he felt the cracking of one his ribs. He rolled onto his feet, holding his side in intense pain. There was no rest, though. Kingu’s foot came down again. The Dragon pulled Khalid out of the way just in time, dragging him, painfully, toward the wall.
“My rib is broken,” Khalid grunted.
The Dragon furrowed his brow. “That shouldn’t be,” he said. “Your armor should be protecting you.”
He placed his hand on Khalid’s side, keeping an eye out for Kingu’s deadly feet. Though he concentrated on healing his friend, he could not seem to summon his powers.
“Something is wrong,” he said. “My magic is not working here.”
“We need help,” Khalid said. “Can you call to Farouk? He could help us somehow.”
The Dragon nodded. “I will do so,” he said.
Khalid felt relief. He knew that Farouk would come immediately. For some reason, he felt that Farouk’s current quest would benefit from coming here.
The Dragon called to him, hoping he would come.
The victorious Alvar lined up in formation as their king inspected them. His face was one of joy and victory. His people had returned to him, and without being told, they had known their skills in battle would be needed. Their own joy at being in the presence of their king once more was quite obvious, as well.
Adder stared at the Alvar in awe. His jaw was open, and his lips were curled into an odd smile. He had never seen any creature on this Earth that appeared so divine; so perfect. They were the picture of absolute divinity; gods, it seemed. They were tall, with angular features, faces that were neither male nor female. There were both sexes among them, but each was just as beautiful and regal as the other. They were practically indistinguishable.
One of them, a male with blond hair and striking green eyes stepped forward. Adder admired his armor, which was both functional and decorative; stealthy and protective. It was the perfect combination of many factors.
“My king,” the warrior addressed Faeraon. “We have heard your call and came to this strange, beautiful world at your command. We ask you, what has happened to our home; our cities and our forests.”
Faeraon approached the warrior, bidding him to stand. “Aersil,” he said. “Our world is no more. The Darkness has devoured it, and all upon it. We have no home. I am sorry to bring you to this realm, but we must have our vengeance. I will fight against the darkness here, before it destroys this world as well. I will not command you to join me. But I would wish to have your company. As your brother, and not your king.”
The warrior bowed, turning to his company. The looks on their faces told Faeraon their answer. The warrior turned back to his king.
“Live or die,” he said. “We will fight with you and the people of this world until the end.”
Traegus stepped forward, standing beside Faeraon. “I am sure that when this battle is over, our own king will welcome you, as will the kings of the north.”
The warrior bowed his head in thanks.
“Please, my friends, I would like to welcome you to our world,” Traegus continued. “It is called Earth, and this kingdom, ruled by Eamon, the Onyx Dragon, is called Eirenoch. This young man here is Adder, and his lovely friend is Jhayla. They are the captains of the kingdom’s Rangers. They are protectors of the forest and all that
live within it. Adder, Jhayla, these are the Alvar, and their king, Faeraon.”
The Warrior and his king bowed to the two Rangers.
“We are honored to meet you,” Faeraon said. “And we are honored that you fight for such a noble cause.”
“It is I that is honored,” Adder said. “And I know that your people have been here before. It is you who inspired us to take on this noble cause.”
“And a noble cause it is,” Farouk said. He stood next to Adder, his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Adder, and his kin, are the shield of the Dragon himself. Without the Rangers, this kingdom may have fallen many times.”
Jhayla patted Farouk’s shoulder. “Keep that up,” she said. “And you’ll embarrass us for sure.”
Faeraon turned back to his people, raising his sword into the air. “We fight for Eirenoch!”
The Alvar raised their own weapons in the air, prompting the company of Rangers to do the same. Among the Rangers, the Druaga did so as well. The few people who saw them chuckled.
“Very well,” Traegus said. “I would suggest we travel east to the coast. Our armies are preparing to meet with those on the mainland.”
Farouk, the Dragon’s voice said in the Druid’s mind. I need your help, my friend.
The Grand Druid, hearing the Dragon’s beckoning, went to Traegus. “I must go,” he whispered. “The Dragon calls.”
“I know,” Traegus replied, smiling. “He needs you. Go.”
The Dragon carried Khalid over his shoulder, rushing to the wall and avoiding Kingu’s stomps. Though fast, the Dragon only narrowly avoided getting crushed. Kingu’s aim was fairly accurate, and was getting better with each stomp. Finally, the Dragon reached the stone wall and stopped, urging Kingu to stomp at him again.
“What are you doing?” Khalid asked. “Why are we stopping?”
Kingu’s foot came crashing down. The Dragon dodged, and the massive foot caught the rim of the wall, breaking away a large portion of the stone.
Into Oblivion (Book 4) Page 23
