by Khalid Uddin
Suddenly, he felt the need to sit. Despite being healed in the infirmary when he and Savaiyon returned, the only remedy for exhaustion was sleep. Horatio dropped to a knee. More ships were arriving on their perimeter. Soldiers swam in from farther out. His lightning bolts were striking less frequently. And with less accuracy. Horatio put a hand to the ground. He was barely holding on to his manifestation. To let it go would mean certain unconsciousness.
For a moment, Horatio forgot where he was. He saw a different island shore before him. Damaszur? This place didn’t look familiar. He shook his head and came back to his reality. In the distance, Horatio saw a chubby man barking orders to his soldiers. That has to be him. Drahkunov. The soldiers were following his commands. Horatio attempted to call forth more lightning. Three bolts struck down near Drahkunov, but they hit the soldiers near him instead of the man himself.
The soldiers scuttled away from the area in all directions. Horatio put both hands to the ground. He took several breaths. He shook his head vigorously. Two. Three attacks left. At most. His eyes were shutting on him. He dropped to his forearms and struggled to look up. His vision was blurry, but he could still distinguish Drahkunov from the soldiers.
Horatio summoned more lightning. Five or six bolts struck. One of them knocked Drahkunov down, but the others missed completely. Horatio heaved. He could see Drahkunov struggling on the ground, though he looked somewhat different. Burnt. I must’ve burnt him. Severed body parts. Charred him. It was the only explanation he could think of. He could barely form a thought. His head touched the ground. C’mon. Finish…him. Horatio looked at Drahkunov writhing once more. With all of his remaining energy, he brought forth several lightning bolts. He kept his head up long enough to see them directly strike the man. Drahkunov no longer moved. Horatio managed to form half of a smile before collapsing to the ground.
***
It amazed Desmond just how many ships there were. He would have guess several hundred. As soon as Maximilian joined him, another brilliant idea formed in Desmond’s mind. If he could get rid of the ships, the battle would end. It wasn’t enough to just fire the cannonballs back at them anymore. “More energy, Maven. More power! We’re gonna end this once an’ fer all!”
Desmond felt the surge right after he made the request. Unfortunately, it came with advice. “I am warning you, Desmond. What you are taking in is dangerous. Promise if we get out of this, you’ll take a break from your manifestation. It would be stupid to do all this to survive, only to die from the very thing that saved your life.”
“I promise, Maven. My word is my bond. Just trust me!” The entire front of the House of Darian was gone, so they could see all of the ships coming upon the shore several hundred feet before them. It helped that the sun was rising. Hopefully this is over fast enough that we don’t even need Lao for mental communication.
He focused on a single galley. Desmond kept his eyes open and, slowly and unsteadily, raised it out of the water. He hovered it above the ship next to it, then let it fall. He repeated the same action over and over again. Desmond soon felt comfortable enough that he could raise two at a time and crash them into multiple galleys.
Desmond had hoped for more help from Horatio in destroying the ships, but he was likely busy engaging the soldiers. “Come ta think o’ it, I haven’t seen any lightnin’ in a while. Where is that kid?” he wondered as he continued the barrage on the ships. Desmond relished the wealth of energy that flowed through him. He wished his manifestation was always so easy and powerful.
He could no longer see any ships intact and focused his attention on the shore. “Come, Maven! We should help with the soldiers on the shore!” Desmond ran ahead, not waiting for Maximilian to follow. He remembered quite quickly that he needed to maintain contact with Maximilian to enable the energy surge. Desmond slowed and let Maximilian catch up. They reached one of the shores where the soldiers had engaged the Descendants. With Maximilian’s help, Desmond took soldiers nearly ten at a time and flung them high into the air over the ocean, far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to swim back, even if the fall didn’t hurt or kill them. Others were thrown into the wreckage of the ships. Desmond had no idea when he’d have this much power at his disposal again. He took full advantage. A group of soldiers was swimming in from a nearby sinking galley. Desmond raised the ship and dropped it on the men. Their screams were short-lived.
Desmond reveled in his accomplishment a moment too long. As he smiled at what he’d done, an arrow caught him in the side. “Dammit!” He fell to his knees and Maximilian immediately dragged him back toward the House. They stopped behind a pile of debris. As Maximilian crouched next to Desmond, he realized that the Maven had also been struck through the arm and the chest. The pain that Desmond felt was nothing compared to the longing for the power he’d just been controlling.
Savaiyon suddenly appeared through a gateway next to them, with Marshall behind him. “Get out of here! Now!” He created another gateway that led to a dimly lit alley. “We are not going to win this battle! More soldiers are coming! Too many of us are down! Our only chance is to flee!” Savaiyon shoved Desmond and Maximilian through the gateway. “I will send Lincan to tend to you! Try not to stray too far!”
Desmond looked through the gateway, listening to Savaiyon’s orders. He leaned back against a brick wall and slumped to the ground. His head pounded, craving the manifestation. “Hopefully Lincan gets here soon.” He looked to Maximilian, who lay on the ground, heaving. Blood trickled from the Maven’s mouth.
***
If his old friends could have seen the statues, they would have scoffed. Pretentious. Overdone. Unnecessary. Contradictory to everything the Harbingers stood for. Maqdhuum crouched atop the statue of Abram. City of the Fallen. What a stupid name. Adria sat next to him, clinging to his arm. The statue’s head alone was big enough for at least two dozen people to stand on. He spit a few feet in front of him and watched as it streamed down the front of the statue’s head. “These statues represent everything that’s wrong with the world. Human beings are so caught up in dedications to others and paying homage to the past that, most of the time, they forget what it means to live a good life and take care of the people who should matter the most to them.”
The girl responded with a witty retort, “Killing people. Cutting off their arms. Is that what it means to live a good life?”
“I do what is necessary. My fate has already been decided.” Soon enough, he would see his life’s purpose fulfilled and then he could be done with humanity. He would be satisfied. Even if it meant an eternity in Opprobrium. The way he saw it, the Orijin owned his soul anyway. If the Orijin wanted him to stay in solitude in Opprobrium forever, it was a fair exchange for his sins and for the undeserved gifts he’d received in his ridiculously long lifetime. Maqdhuum had had enough of people. He could spend the rest of existence never talking to anyone again. “Once we kill Jahmash, you will be rid of me. Tolerate me for that long and then you can have your peace.”
“You still owe me an explanation. Tell me what you are.”
“How about this? I’ll tell you about what’s weighing me down. If you can guess what I am, I promise that you will never feel like a prisoner with me.”
“Do you expect me to say no?”
Maqdhuum smirked. “Enough sarcasm. Just listen. It revolves around a woman named Raya. I showed up at her house about fifteen or twenty years ago. I had a request. Raya came with me willingly. I didn’t do anything to force her. She knew that her actions could ultimately lead to Jahmash’s downfall. I didn’t lie to her or deceive her in that regard. She brought me to the Three Rings. To the Orijin. She knew what I wanted and did not hesitate to help me. Her actions and willingness to help allowed me to acquire a new body. A new face. In exchange for eternal suffering. And mortality. And once I made my deal with the Orijin, bringing Raya to Jahmash was the only way to ensure that Jahmash would trust me. She agreed to be a pawn in the whole endeavor. Maybe not in those exact words.
But it’s all the semantics.” Maqdhuum spat again. He would feel no guilt. “Abram had been a coward. Had run away in the face of opportunity. Maqdhuum would not. He would do what was necessary. Even if he must betray people. Even if he must betray Raya, who had left her husband and child at a whimsical but grave request. That was so long ago. She is dead now. If she truly wants revenge, she can exact it when I see her again in the Three Rings. For the rest of my existence.”
“What?”
“Let me continue. Raya’s life and death were tools. She was the first step to Jahmash’s downfall.” And to humanity’s downfall. Though he hadn’t told Raya about that part of it. He wouldn’t tell this girl, either. He wanted to see humanity’s destruction as much as Jahmash’s. Mankind deserved to be obliterated. If not for mankind’s devolution, the world would not be in this state to begin with. Even if he spent the rest of his existence in Opprobrium it was worth it to bring the world down with him. Mankind’s arrogance had cost him Darian. Gideon. Lionel. “Mankind’s stupidity turned Jahmash into a monster. Into the ‘Red Harbinger.’ The Orijin had told each Harbinger that, despite the miracles bestowed on each of them, there would be flaws. Weaknesses.”
“You.” Adria gripped his arm more tightly, but let go as her eyes widened. “You are…Abram. How…why?” Tears streamed from the girl’s eyes.
“Jahmash’s weakness is water. Abram’s was loneliness. I have lived for centuries and no one in that time has managed to fill the void left by the loss of Darian, Gideon, and Lionel. Immortality means nothing if there is no one to share it with. Jahmash will soon realize it as well. Once you Descendants started surfacing, I knew the Orijin had something new in the works. I also knew that Jahmash must be working at something. I needed two things to stop him. First, try to gain his trust. No chance of that if I looked like Abram. Second, by killing people when he asked for them to be killed.”
“Why can’t you simply appear behind him and kill him?”
“He knows not to trust me by now. I realized too late that by accessing your mind, he could access your memories. You have seen me Travel numerous times. He would have made the connection. From now on, though, you must fight back when he tries to control you. I have been too careless. There is also the issue of him never being alone. He surrounds himself with guards at all times. Jahmash is smart. He doesn’t trust anyone, though he pretends that he does. I am an exceptional swordsman, but he is even better. I would never get the best of him. That is where you Descendants come in. If used properly, your abilities could be weapons that he can not match. I believe that is why the Orijin has blessed you with them. You are the new Harbingers. As for me, I am no longer worthy of the title ‘Harbinger.’ Nor do I want to be. I am no longer responsible for humanity’s salvation. I am no longer Abram. I am vengeance. I am the Master of Justice. I am Adl Maqdhuum.”
“I love the irony of it all,” Adria muttered next to him.
He turned to her. “What’s that?”
“Today is Abraday.”
***
Savaiyon was running out of energy. He would need to save his strength and use gateways just to help the Descendants escape. On the bright side, Marshall, Vasher, and Blastevahn were covering separate fronts of the battle to round up the wounded and keep them safe. Several Descendants still fought, though Savaiyon knew there would be more deaths. Those whom he could save he would send off for the time being, just as he’d done to Desmond and Maximilian. He hoped they’d find help soon. He was so tired he couldn’t even remember where he’d sent them.
He searched the main battlefront. Sindha was still managing to keep many soldiers held back with a force field, but even that only stopped a portion of them. Savaiyon ran by a burnt and bloody body, still smoking. He almost disregarded it, except that he noticed the face staring straight up to the sky and recognized it immediately. Orijin, no. Not like this. Not like this. Burnt? Charred? Horatio, please tell me this was not your doing.
A few hours ago, Savaiyon wouldn’t have known the man, but Zin Marlowe had revealed his truth to the surviving Descendants, and his old, withered face was imprinted in Savaiyon’s mind. He formed a gateway next to the body. It led to another island where the graves of Lionel, Abram, and Darian were. His body would be safe there. Savaiyon pushed the frail body through and released the gateway. As he arose to move on, an arrow struck him through the forearm and brought him back to his knees. Savaiyon quickly broke the shaft and pulled out the rest. No time for pain.
He ducked down behind a low wooden fence and ran along it to search for more wounded. Cursed height! Without Marlowe, we cannot stop them. We do not have the weapons to win a battle. We must retreat!
As Savaiyon passed an opening in the fence, he saw another body lying on the ground, rocking ever so slightly. Reverron. At least he is moving. A few enemy soldiers were running toward Reverron. From where he stood, Savaiyon opened a gateway on the ground next to Reverron. He kept it small enough that Reverron could roll through, just as he’d done to Marlowe’s body. If I shout, I expose my location. You owe me, Rev. “Reverron! Gateway! Roll to your right! Rev! Roll to your right!” The boy rolled more slowly than Savaiyon would have liked, but finally he made it through and Savaiyon sealed the gateway.
The oncoming soldiers altered their course and charged at Savaiyon. Their armor resembled that which he’d seen in the ruins of the Taurani village. Not enough time. Savaiyon formed a gateway right in front of them. He was sure it led into the ocean. It was too close for them to avoid. Once they were through, he sealed it and moved forward. This is taking too much energy. I have to hurry. Where are the others? He ran out from behind the fence to inspect the landscape. Horatio lay far to his left, where Savaiyon had seen him standing before.
Savaiyon hesitated a split second about going to him. No, he can answer for his actions another time. It could have been a mistake. Savaiyon ran to him after ensuring no enemies remained nearby. Just as with the others, he formed a gateway and pushed Horatio through. Exhaustion clouded his mind. Moments after closing the gateway, he forgot where he’d sent the boy. He’d actually forgotten where he’d sent most of them. Not far off, Badalao and Sindha fought nearly a dozen soldiers. Their backs were to each other and they were fending off attacks rather than fighting. Savaiyon knelt down to focus better. He started a gateway and wrapped it around Badalao and Sindha, creating a circle around them. Thankfully, his gateways were transparent, and he could see the two walk through. He closed it immediately and the stunned soldiers collapsed upon one another.
Another arrow grazed the side of his neck, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The glancing blow sent him to the ground. He heard another arrow land not far from his head. Multiple shouts ensued until he heard a voice coming near. “Come on Maven, we have to go!”
Savaiyon clasped his neck and stood gingerly, only to see Marshall and Kadoog’han standing by a lifeless soldier. Marshall had already taken the dead woman’s bow and arrow. “Inside! We have to go back in and bring the rest to safety!”
Marshall took a step in the opposite direction. “Nonsense. We have to stop these attackers! We can finish this now!”
“Too many of us are dead and wounded already! We must save whom we can! Marshall, this is not a discussion, it is a command! Marlowe is dead! We must preserve those Descendants who are left! There is a bigger battle than this to fight!”
“I’ve already watched the Taurani die and let Adria get taken away. I will not sit back this time!” Marshall glared at him and continued toward the remaining enemy soldiers. Savaiyon created another gateway, not far in front of Marshall, and watched the boy run right through it. He was surprised at how astute the boy was, as Marshall turned around almost immediately. Savaiyon close the gateway right away.
Savaiyon turned quickly to Kadoog’han, “Let’s go! We are running out of people to save!” They ran back toward the House, searching every remaining hallway and room for survivors. Sweat poured from Savaiyon. His clothes were drenched and only he
lped the exhaustion weigh him down. He had to resort to gateways a few times throughout the House in order to avoid enemy soldiers. They’d almost been seen by Drahkunov himself. Savaiyon would have relished a fight with the man, but it was not one he would win at the moment.
Over the next hour they covered almost every inch of what was left of the House and Savaiyon had created several gateways to help others escape. Many of his fellow Mavens had perished in the initial attack, but he managed to save a few. They would be necessary if the Descendants were to regroup. He and Kadoog’han even managed to save Delilah and Lincan before the infirmary collapsed. The two were stubborn enough to refuse to come upstairs. Savaiyon eventually created tight circular gateways around them so they’d had no choice.
“There is one more place we must go, my friend. There is one last Descendant we will need, if we hope to stand a chance against Drahkunov, cannons, and Jahmash.” He clasped Kadoog’han’s shoulder more in need for support than because he felt amiable. “If I have anything left in me to create another bridge.”
Kadoog’han shot him a knowing, but reluctant smile. “Dungeon.” He nodded. “The Prince.”
“We get him, then we leave.”
They wasted no time in moving on to the dungeon, but Kadoog’han carried Savaiyon practically the whole way. He wasn’t positive, but he might have blacked out once or twice along the way.
Savaiyon barely realized they’d arrived at Garrison’s cell. Once he recognized Garrison, he shook his head and stroked his hair. He briefly pressed his neck and saw that he was still bleeding, though not quite as much as before. Savaiyon took a step toward the cell and looked down at Garrison. The Prince crouched against the wall at the back of the cell and stared down.
