by Lakshman, V.
The figure enrobed in black seemed to smile. “The Conclave sacrifices one of their own, a Sai no less. To what do I owe such generosity?”
Sai’ken transformed, becoming again the girl. She moved forward and knelt, bowing her head. “I greet thou, Sovereign, and bear a message from the stewards of Edyn.”
“A messenger with a message. How apt,” the dark figure said. “Speak, for I am curious as to what solicits such brazenness.”
Sai’ken nodded, then said, “I can tender thou the king of the builders and his most trusted allies. In addition, two more Adepts of the Way. Together they are some of the last of those who might resist thou.
“I also tender our service again, provided thou agree it will continue after the world is remade.” That made the creature pause. A small smile flitted across her eyes.
The being tilted its head down, as if considering something, then it switched to the archaic tongue of the dragons and said, “And what doth thou ask for in return?”
“We want Armun Dreys released,” she said simply, without explanation.
There was silence at that, then the crowned specter said, “Wherefore?”
“He kens the lore of the Phoenix Stone, something—”
“I will need to remake the world,” the figure completed.
Sai’ken nodded. “It was lost in the Shattered Sea, but Armun couldst help us locate it.”
“And having done so, what will thou do with the Stone?” asked the dark specter.
“We will give it to thee.”
The dark figure grew, rising until it looked down upon her. It raised a single finger, “And thy king will take the Oath for all dragonkind?”
“He hath empowered me to do so, and I speak for them all.”
The being bent forward, as if inspecting her soul, then stood. “Thou will take the Oath, and tender yourself and thy brethren to mine service again?”
“Will thou give me Armun, and let him journey with me to recover the Stone?” Silence reigned as Sai’ken knelt before the dark being towering over her. She knew the risk being taken, but the dragonkind understood their duty was to Edyn first. Hopefully, Sovereign felt the same way.
Finally, the creature said, “Agreed.”
“Then I say to thou, by the hand of Sovereign, mine Maker, and in return for the giving of Armun Dreys, we bind all dragonkind to thou. Our Oath, we will cause no harm to befall thee, either through our actions or inaction.” Sai’ken reached down and sliced herself open with one nail against her palm, cupping the blood and offering it to Sovereign.
Sovereign leaned forward and said, “Mine Oath, in return for releasing Armun Dreys and pledging thee and thine to continue to serve the new world of mine making, the dragonkind will serve me faithfully from this day forth.” The creature held his hand forward and a black mist fell from his outstretched hand to fall upon the cupped blood of the dragon.
There was silence, then a blinding flash of yellow surrounded them, slowly fading as the Way bound Sai’ken and every dragon upon Edyn to the service of the Oath she’d just taken. When it was done, Sovereign looked down and said, “You ken breaking thy word will consign thee and thine to obliteration.”
Sai’ken nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she pulled out a single dwarven finger sliced cleanly from the hand and tossed it on the ground in front of her. “The blood carries the marker identifying those who hast infiltrated Dawnlight. We offer them as payment, along with our fidelity. We art yours to command, our Sovereign.”
There was silence at that, then Sovereign gestured and the floor parted. From that open space rose an illuminated glass tomb within which was a man suspended in a clear liquid. She rose and moved over to inspect the tomb and the man inside. He did not look alive, but Sai’ken knew better. She could hear his heart beating slowly. He looked young, the same age as when she’d seen him last. She took on her dragon form and hefted the tomb easily, then turned back to Sovereign. She closed her eyes and bowed. “I thank thee.”
Sovereign inclined his head to her, then gestured to the finger, which floated up into his waiting palm. The blood within it came out in a cloud of red, hanging motionless in the air. Then he looked at his guardians and said, “Take those who scurry below and bring them to me.”
He looked back at Sai’ken and said, “Thou and thy brethren will sit at mine right hand in the world remade. Rejoice! Thou hast done well, daughter of Edyn.” A hole opened in the ceiling, with clear blue skies visible high above.
The young dragon didn’t say anything, just bowed again and leapt up with the tomb in her arms. In a moment she was nothing more than a speck in the sky.
* * * * *
Dazra moved quickly, sometimes half inside or outside a wall as he followed his second. He’d thought Giridian would lead but the man seemed happy to be silent, taking a secondary role, deferring to either him or Gedeon. Perhaps he’d been too hard on the adept, he thought. They’d mostly stayed within the tunnels because of Dragor’s inability to phase. For the most part, it didn’t bother Dazra since they were acting as bait. He’d rather meet Sovereign’s forces in open air spaces than be encumbered with unknown powers they may wield when ensconced in rock.
Gedeon held up a hand and they all came to a stop. He looked around, tilting his head as if listening. Dazra put a hand on the wall and listened too. His eyes were drawn upward. Something big was coming.
“Defensive!” said Gedeon, sinking into the ground.
Though he had no love for him, Dazra didn’t want to leave the adept by himself, so he drew two short blades and moved closer. Naph turned and faced the way they’d come, a heavy short blade in one hand.
Gedeon flew out of the tunnel floor and hit the ceiling, falling down and bouncing painfully. He left behind a bloody print where his nose had smashed into the rock.
Wait, Dazra thought, why were they not phasing? He stretched out his hand and felt the firm and unyielding surface of stone. They’d been discovered! His entats weren’t working.
“We’ve got to pull back, they’ve found us!” he said.
Gedeon was pulling himself up when a meaty fist caught him in the chest and smashed him back up against the ceiling. His limp form fell, only to be encased in a globe of stone.
Naph moved forward with a scream and struck the fist but his blade skittered and sparked off its knuckles. The tunnel they were in widened, as if pulled apart by hands until it was a semicircular opening. Standing before them were two guardians, one holding Gedeon in the stone globe, the other coming for Naph.
The warrior dodged a swipe from the creature and tried to strike it again, but the blade did the same thing, sparking off the obsidian skin without even marring its surface. Then a fist caught Naph and he went down in a tumble, unconscious or dead, Dazra couldn’t tell.
The dwarven leader backed up and looked at Dragor. The man just stood there, looking slack-jawed and useless.
“Get out of here!” he screamed, even as he rolled out of the way of a hammer fist of granite that sent pulverized stone dust into the air.
The adept just looked at him until a fist caught Dragor’s body. Dazra was sure there would be nothing but pulp left, but when the guardian’s fist touched the adept he disappeared in a flash, as if he’d never been there at all.
Loose ends
All tailors in Westbay know that before a sweater
is finished, one must tie up the loose ends.
- Alain the Farflung, A Guide to Westbay
Lilyth’s eyes glistened with tears as she watched the sparkle of fire. Avalyon burned like an orange star, like an ember trailing black smoke across the dusk sky. She knew her forces were busy pushing Valarius’s elite through the portal to Bara’cor while cutting most of the city off from the highlord. Pandemonium must have reigned, and the sight took her breath away.
“Good news I take it,” muttered Thoth, squinting into the sky alongside her.
Lilyth turned to him and said, “The portal to Bara’cor is closed.�
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Thoth’s eyes widened, “How do you know?”
Lilyth regarded him for a moment before saying, “I’m waiting for word on the fate of Valarius.” She hugged herself, hoping against all hope the highlord was dead. She thought about reaching out to Alion, but the undead magehunter had a specific task and interrupting her now would not help.
The double doors to her throne room opened and in strode Mithras, wreathed in the holy sunfire that was his to control. He went to a knee, putting Tempest point down and pulling the flames in so that only his skin shone golden. It was as if the sun never set on him.
“You succeeded?”
“I do not like retreating,” the once Altan warlord who was now a Fury said, “but I drove the curs mewling like kittens to the portal. Did they open it?”
“They did,” Lilyth said, “and sent reinforcements to hold against your fearsome return.”
“Valarius’s chosen warriors?” asked Mithras.
Lilyth smiled, her eyes alight with pleasure. “His very best.”
“Then we have succeeded,” concluded Mithras with a smile. “You have the cunning mind of a wife I once cherished.”
“And because I’m so happy, I will not kill you for that remark,” replied Lilyth. She walked past him as he put his head to the floor in apology.
“And neither will I, beloved,” muttered Tempest.
“What are you planning?” asked Thoth.
“Valarius and Avalyon are only part of our problem, Keeper,” replied Lilyth. She made a small gesture and Mithras got up and moved to stand at the lowest step of her dais. “Defeating Valarius doesn’t free us to act.”
“What then, is left?” questioned the older man. He leaned on his staff and said, “I’m impressed with the way in which you’ve orchestrated the downfall of Avalyon.”
Lilyth nodded in thanks, then said, “We must escape Arcadia.”
Thoth’s countenance reflected his confusion. “Escape?”
“Arek’s minions have expanded beyond my ability to contain. Our only hope is to flee.”
“But you said you had them controlled! We cannot survive there, not without bodies,” exclaimed the Keeper.
“With Arcadia consumed, the Way will be much more powerful in Edyn. Our people can survive, walk the world again. There will be bodies aplenty to be had, and our worlds will be unified.” She nodded to Mithras, then said, “Life amongst those who worship us has always been the final outcome. I cannot have the Conclave oppose me, nor know of our plans. Will you help us negotiate a peace?”
Thoth looked down, thoughtful. “I think that will be diff—”
Tempest emerged from his chest, driven in by Mithras, who had come up behind the Keeper. The blade said, “Sleep, old one, the Lady reclaims your role. Your services are no longer needed.”
Thoth looked down, his eyes glazing over, then back up at Lilyth, “Why?”
“Why not?” she replied. “What need has the world for you, when I am the light of lore?”
The Keeper gasped, his mouth working as though he wanted to say more. No sounds came out, and Mithras aped him, opening and closing his mouth in time with the Keeper’s own as he pulled out the blade. The old man staggered forward a few steps, walking in no specific direction, then fell to his knees. Mithras fell next to him, still pantomiming his slow death for the amusement of those gathered.
Lilyth let out a delicate laugh, watching the Keeper to die, then she turned to Mithras. “Prepare for transition. Once we are in place, you will hunt down the elves. There’s still no margin for error, but we wait for Baalor’s signal.”
“At once, Lady,” the Aeris Lord regained his feet and bowed.
“He tasted delicious,” said Tempest in a husky voice, “much better than I remember.”
Lilyth smiled and said, “And there will be more to feast upon as we forge a new world, sister—a world free of Sovereign, the Conclave, dwarves, elves, and the accursed dragons.”
The Demise of Fear
Thus what is most important in combat,
Is not to fight for violence’s sake,
But to attack your opponent’s strategy.
- Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades
You think Ash is just going to let you escape?” Kisan asked, moving to Arek’s left.
Arek shrugged and said, “I don’t care what he does, but with the blood gate closed the only person who knows how to get us home is Duncan.”
The simple statement had its desired effect on Kisan. She muttered a curse, then looked at Ash and said, “You’re letting that murderer go free? Why not kill the red mage now?” She smiled, evidently thinking Arek would have his hands full trying to stop the firstmark and dealing with her simultaneously. Clearly she did not value her own return to Edyn as much as Arek’s and Duncan’s death, but she’d underestimated the young commander.
“He’s a prisoner,” Ash said, “and until he faces trial, under my protection. And as Arek says, he might still be of some use.” The firstmark stepped forward and pointed his blade at a spot right between Kisan’s eyes, “However, I do like the idea of payback,” he said, tapping his own stomach where Kisan had run him through.
The master gave them a dark smile, “Everyone really wants to die today.”
Yetteje stepped forward and said, “Can’t we unite? We’re not free of here yet and Edyn needs us.” She looked at Kisan, “All of us.”
When no one answered, Arek pitched his voice to Ash and said, “I’d like everyone to back off, Firstmark. This is between me and her.”
The laugh he got was unexpected. “Sorry kid, this isn’t practice. She has a better than good chance of killing us all.”
Yetteje laughed too and said, “You didn’t mind my help under Bara’cor.”
He didn’t like that, but Arek kept a cool head and settled into his combat stance. In truth, their skill couldn’t be denied, and he knew his master would’ve counseled the same.
“Honorable to the end, even if it means three against one,” quipped Kisan, crossing her black blades in front of her body.
Ash smiled, “I’m not buying the defenseless bit.” He arched an eyebrow, as if waiting for her to commit.
When Kisan moved, it was sudden and unerring. She did not attack any of the three arrayed before her, but instead threw a brace of feather blades at Duncan.
Arek was out of position and turned, only to see Ash dive and put his own wings up as a shield. The next instant his vision went black. He instinctively rolled and could feel two blades imbed themselves one after the other following his path. The fact that Kisan was trying to kill him became suddenly very real.
When he’d regained his feet he saw her loop Valor out from Yetteje’s grasp then turn it around to choke the princess while using her body as a shield. Rage filled him and he moved towards them but Kisan must have sensed it. She dropped the semiconscious princess and met Arek head on, bringing the fight close, her blades having shrunk to the size of daggers. Her expression promised this would be brutal and without mercy. The only problem was Arek still held his long blades.
The new adept didn’t hesitate but dropped them, quickly blocking her strikes at the crook of her elbow and wrist with his forearms, then countering toher neck with his hand in an openY.
She fell back gagging and dropped a blade, but was right back at him. Then Arek felt something ice cold slip into his side, and saw blood welling out from her stab. Kisan gestured and her lost knife flew back into her waiting hand.
Yetteje had recovered and now attacked with blazing arrow after arrow from her bow. One pierced Kisan’s thigh, but the master didn’t seem to notice. Instead she whirled and kicked, sending a discarded sword flying into the girl’s temple. The princess crumpled as the heavy pommel cracked into her skull.
Arek watched, horrified, then wished he’d held onto his blades. To his surprise they jumped back into his own hands! He realized with dismay now that just like Kisan, he had control over the length of his weapons. It w
as an expensive lesson to learn. A sudden wave of dizziness made the world tilt but he blinked and recovered. When he refocused, Kisan wasn’t there.
Something slammed into the ground, creating a small shock wave of force. Arek felt it bounce him slightly. It didn’t knock anyone down, instead four torcs that lay nearby got tossed into the air. These the master struck with her swords in quick succession, batting them unerringly at Arek and Ash.
Arek deflected the two sent at him, then moved in, finally locating the master as she materialized from the shadows where she’d obscured herself, quickly feinted back to her right. Metallic tangs told him Ash must’ve also successfully blocked his torcs. He was on Kisan, his sword licking out at her hip in a flash of silver.
Kisan kicked and caught the firstmark’s wrist, deflecting his weapon outward, then continued her spin so that her other leg delivered a spinning hook kick at Arek.
Arek ducked and spun under her leg, trying to sweep her. Rather than jump over his sweep, she let him hit her balancing leg, using it to give herself more momentum. The result was an aerial kick, magnified by Arek’s sweep. It caught the firstmark across his head, stunning and knocking him back.
Arek rolled even as Kisan’s knee came down with crushing force, cracking the wood underneath where he’d just laid.
He stood, surveying the scene, knowing Kisan had gotten the better of them in that first exchange. Yetteje and Duncan were down but Brianna had pulled them back behind a small outcropping and drawn her weapon, though she was not pointing it at anyone. Ash slowly regained his feet. Kisan had risen from where she’d landed, looking at Arek in disdain.
“Inept, slow, pondering, and bleeding like a stuck pig,” she remarked, her eyes glancing at Arek’s side. Then she flicked her wings forward and back and a hailstorm of blades flew in opposite directions, both at the firstmark and Arek.
They ducked behind their wings, but the zip of Brianna’s weapon firing repeatedly told Arek the master must be heading towards the dwarven healer. If Kisan took her out, any chance of them surviving was reduced to almost zero. He gathered the Way and then sent a blaze of pure whitefire at the retreating form of the black-winged master, who had shielded herself from Brianna’s fire using her feather blades.
