The Sword of Light: The Complete Trilogy

by Aaron Hodges

  A boom came from below as lightning and fire burst up from the crack, but Enala did not hesitate. Elation stirred in her chest as she screamed, the green light of the Soul Blade flashing in the morning sun, and the earth snapped closed.

  Cheers erupted from the wall behind them and Enala’s heart pounded hard in her chest. She glanced at Eric, seeing her own disbelief reflected on his face.

  “Did we do it?” she whispered.

  A dark, booming laughter cut off his reply. Silence fell across the wall as the sound echoed across the killing field. Eric and Enala edged closer to one another, eyes scanning the empty ground, waiting.

  With a long, grating groan the earth broke back open. Archon rose up from the fissure, his feathered cloak torn and shredded, but a smile on his lips. He drifted across and alighted on solid ground. Reaching up, he unclipped his cloak and tossed it away. It struck with a heavy thud, loud in the silence.

  “Are you done?” Archon gave a dark chuckle.

  Enala shuddered, despair rising up within her.

  You cannot defeat me, Enala staggered as Archon’s words rang in her mind. She spun to stare at Eric and saw his terror, and knew he had heard the words too. You cannot even keep me from your minds, you poor, frail mortals.

  Archon stepped closer, his grin widening, his teeth glinting in the light of their swords. Magic swept out from him, stretching up like great wings of darkness. Tendrils of black magic wove through the air, reaching for them, calling to them.

  Enala shrank away, a voice answering deep inside her, stirring the shadows of her soul. Beside her, the colour fled Eric’s face as the magic caught them both. In her chest, Enala felt her hate stirring, her rage and desire rising up to claim her.

  Gasping, Enala doubled over, desperate to fight the forces wrapping about her soul. The flames of her magic rose to defend her. It burned at the darkness, tearing at its edges, but the black was like a flood, overwhelming. Bit by bit the spirit of her magic died away, snuffed out, suffocated.

  A groan rose in Enala’s throat as she sank to her knees. She stared down at the Soul Blade, willing herself to hurl it away. But her hand refused to move. It remained fixed around the sword’s pommel, and with creeping dread she sensed the first prods of the God power as it seeped into the void left by her magic.

  “No,” Enala sobbed, her body frozen now, helpless before the power of the Soul Blade. “No, please, not again.”

  Fear rose within her, stronger than belief. Never before had she experienced such terror as on Witchcliffe Island, when the God magic swept her away. Her will and soul had been nothing to it, mere play-things to torment and torture. She had never wanted to touch the damn thing again. It had only been for her friends that she had taken up the Soul Blade, to defend them against Archon’s power.

  And now… now they would die by her own hand.

  Enala sucked in a breath as the first surge of power tore through her body. The God magic had discovered her weakness, that her magic was lost beneath the darkness of Archon’s power. Enala fled into the depths of her subconscious, searching desperately for a hint of the flame, for some small ember with which to fight. But she found only darkness.

  And the burning touch of God magic.

  Throwing back her head, a scream rose from her throat.

  Then, all at once, the dark magic surged back from her, fleeing her mind as though sucked out through a vortex. The red of her magic flickered back into existence and with a rush of joy she caught it and hurled it at the God magic. The green flames gave way before its heat, retreating back into the Soul Blade.

  Enala opened her eyes to the boom of thunder, the crackling of lightning. The air rippled with power, the taste of it like ice on the wind. A column of lightning as thick as the towers of Fort Fall fell from the sky, enveloping Archon in its electric blue. The crack as it struck deafened her.

  A blast of wind rushed across the killing field, sending Enala rolling backwards over the barren ground. She clutched desperately at the Soul Blade as she rolled, suddenly desperate to keep its magic.

  In her heart, she knew who had arrived, what had happened.

  Grief twisted in her soul as a figure fell from the sky. He landed with a thud on the ground between them and Archon, a sly smile on his familiar lips, power shining from his eyes. It was Gabriel, Gabriel as she had never seen him before.

  But it was not the man she had grown to love. She could see it in his eyes, in the ancient wisdom there, in the once brown irises now changed to crystal blue.

  It was Jurrien who stood before her now, not Gabriel.

  Jurrien, wearing the body of the man she loved.

  “Jurrien,” Archon’s voice boomed across the field. Darkness flashed and the lightning vanished, the wind dying away.

  Archon strode from the cloud of smoke where the lightning had fallen, his chest heaving, darkness curling all around him. The earth crunched beneath his feet, scorched black and crystallised by the heat of the lightning.

  And his face… Enala had never seen such rage on a human’s face.

  “In the flesh,” Jurrien smiled back. “Did you miss me?”

  “Oh, I will enjoy this,” Archon growled. “I will enjoy sending your spirit screaming back to the void. The time of the Gods is over!”

  Archon’s last word came out as a scream. Darkness grew from every inch of the man now, curling about him like a living thing. He faded into the magic as it spread from him, as though he were a part of it, as though he were more shadow than real man.

  Ice seeped into Enala’s veins as she watched the shadows grow. She could sense the power thumping through the air. The sickly twist of dark magic was so thick she could taste it. There was no denying it now; the man within the magic was no longer mortal, no longer even human. No human could withstand the transformation now twisting the dark Magicker’s body.

  The magic swept out, swirling and changing. Great wings of fire took shape first, stretching up to the sky as black embers scattered on the wind. Feathers of darkness formed, fire lighting from their tips. A hooked beak reached out for them, burning teeth lining the twisted keratin. Within seconds nothing remained of the man who had been Archon.

  In his place stood a Phoenix, its burning wings casting them in shadow, the heat of its flames driving them backwards. It towered over the three of them, its bulk filling the killing field, far larger than any dragon, taller even than the walls behind them.

  Enala staggered backwards. Slipping in the mud, she fell to the ground, unable to look away from the colossus towering over them.

  The great beak opened and a scream tore the air. If she hadn’t already been on the ground, the sound would have sent Enala to her knees. As it was, she clapped her hands over her ears and waited for the world to end.

  When the scream finally ceased, she heard Archon’s whisper in her mind.

  Time for this game to end.

  A fiery wind buffeted them as the flaming wings beat down, lifting the beast into the sky. Turning in the air, it swept towards the fortress.

  Twenty One

  Eric staggered to his feet as the Phoenix lifted off, its burning wings carrying it skyward. In his mind he heard Archon’s words, but they were dim compared to the memory screaming in his ears.

  “Then Archon took his place on the battlefield. He flew overhead, morphed beyond all recognition, darkening the heavens with his magic,” Antonia’s words from so long ago rang in his head, her warning now clear with the beast before them.

  Archon had surrendered his humanity long ago, had become one with his own power. Dark magic was the antithesis of everything natural and good, flaunting the laws of magic and the physical world.

  With it, nothing was beyond his power.

  Eric watched as clouds gathered around Archon. Flames leapt from the Phoenix’s wings to spread across the sky, and he remembered how Antonia’s tale had ended. Archon had unleashed his power and an inferno had fallen from the sky, burning the ranks of their army to ash.r />
  They could not let that happen now, not again.

  A roar sounded from overhead and Eric spun, his heart surging as the gold dragons dropped from the sky. The sun glittered off their scales, turning the sky into a gold-speckled tapestry. As one they alighted around them, growls rumbling up from their chests.

  It is time, Enduran’s voice echoed in his mind. We must stop him here, or all will fall.

  The dragon stepped forward as the others ringed them and offered his leg. Eric nodded, but turned back to Gabriel – or Jurrien, he guessed now.

  “Do you have a plan?” he shouted over the howling wind.

  Jurrien laughed. “The plan is yours, Eric. Gabriel seemed to think you had one. All I know is, alone, we cannot match his power. Last time I tried, he snuffed my magic out like a candle.”

  Eric sheathed the Sword of Light as he climbed up onto Enduran’s back. He nodded as Enala slid past him and took her seat in front of him. She flashed him a weary grin.

  “Mind if I steer?” she laughed.

  “You’re the dragon rider,” he turned back to Jurrien. “Well, we have all three God powers now,” he pointed to the sky. “So we stop him, whatever the cost.”

  Jurrien nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Lead on then, young Eric.”

  Eric felt the muscles of the dragon bunch beneath him, and quickly wrapped his hands around Enala’s waist. Then Enduran leapt for the sky and Eric’s stomach fell into his boots. The dragon’s wings swept down as his roar echoed off the walls around them and then they were surging upwards, driving ahead to where the dark Phoenix waited.

  The gathered roar of the other dragons came from behind as Enduran’s tribe joined them, followed by a boom as Jurrien took to the sky. Glancing across, he saw lightning flickering in the God’s fists as he flew past them.

  Swallowing, Eric reached up and redrew the Sword of Light. Its energy surged through him but he kept its flames extinguished, ensuring they would not do any harm to Enala. She still held the Soul Blade clenched in her fist, its green glow glittering on the scales of Enduran’s back. He held her tight as they raced upwards, closing fast on the beast Archon had become.

  Enala glanced back as they flew and he saw a wild joy on her face, a sharpness to her eyes that had been missing before. She swung the Soul Blade and pointed it skyward, her wild scream carrying to him over the thump of wings.

  Eric smiled as he remembered the first time he had laid eyes on this girl, his sister. He had been dying on the black sands of Malevolent Cove, but even so the image remained crystal clear: Enala astride the dragon Nerissa, her golden hair billowing in the wind, her brow creased with righteous anger.

  He saw that girl again now and the sight warmed his heart. They would need her courage in the battle to come.

  Hoisting the Sword of Light, he drew on its energy. His mind tingled with its power, but he was still searching for a plan, for a way to halt the inferno Archon was about to unleash.

  “We have to stop his attack,” Eric shouted over the wind. “Jurrien, you and I will fight fire with fire. Hopefully we have enough to match what he throws at us. Enala, do what you can to protect the fortress from whatever gets through!”

  Enala nodded but she did not look back. Instead she hoisted the Soul Blade and stood, a wicked grin on her face as she balanced on Enduran’s back. Then she turned and slid back down so that she faced the ground, the Soul Blade already flashing as she worked its magic.

  Thunder crackled in the storm clouds above them, but Eric could sense no rain or wind within them. These were no natural clouds, but dark things, born of Archon’s black magic. They held only one thing – death.

  Then a roar shook the air and the sky opened up.

  And the flames began to fall.

  *************

  Fear clutched Inken’s chest as the dragons took flight, chasing after the black beast that had risen from the mud.

  Archon.

  The name sent a shiver down to her soul. The man’s shadow had hung over their lives for so long now, leaving a dark taint on even the most joyous of memories. Always there, waiting in the distant future, waiting to destroy them.

  But now that future had finally arrived. Archon had come, his legend made flesh. They had watched together from the wall as he slaughtered their most powerful Magickers, as he brought Enala and Eric to their knees. Only Caelin’s strong arms had stopped Inken from racing to their aid then, and a wave of relief had swept through the defenders as Jurrien arrived.

  But now they stood helpless, unable to aid their friends in the desperate fight in the skies above the fortress. There atop the battlements of Fort Fall they waited, tame sheep for the slaughter.

  A rumble carried down from overhead and Inken sucked in a breath of fear.

  The clouds gathering around the Phoenix had vanished, washed away by a firestorm now falling towards them from high above. Flames licked across the sky and Inken flinched as she felt the first kiss of their heat on her face. Around her the men and women of the Three Nations started to scream and run, but she could only stand and stare, knowing there was nothing they could do to escape the doom rushing towards them.

  Above, the dragons still flew towards the firestorm. A surge of hope flickered in Inken’s chest as light leapt from the leading dragon. The blue flash of lightning joined it and she knew Eric and Jurrien were fighting back. She just prayed they had the strength to halt the inferno.

  Lightning collected around the dark figure of Jurrien, spreading out to coat the sky. White fire joined it, rushing from the Sword of Light to swirl around the dragons, its strength building with each second.

  Inken’s ears popped as a sudden energy surged in the air, and then the forces of the Light and Sky were rushing up to meet the oncoming inferno.

  A deafening crash fell across the wall as the two forces met. Light flashed, blinding the defenders, and it seemed the forces would tear the sky itself asunder. Tears streaming from her eyes, Inken forced herself to look away as white spots swept across her vision.

  Please, please, please, she chanted the silent prayer in her mind.

  A gust of air struck her then, knocking her from her feet. She tumbled across the cold stone and only the crenulations stopped her from toppling from the wall. Groaning, she blinked her eyes to clear them and looked up, desperate to see her fate.

  Overhead the sky had cleared, the waves of black fire all but destroyed.

  Not quite, she realised with a trickle of despair. Spots of flame still marked the sky, tumbling down towards them, too close to stop now. Closing her eyes, Inken waited for the end to come.

  Then she gasped as the wall beneath her shook and the earth rumbled. Struggling to stand, Inken stared across at Caelin, mouth wide, unable to speak. The rumbling grew around them, turning to a roar, and then the ground behind the wall split open and a cliff-face of rock rose into the air. Groaning and crackling, the rock grew upwards, surpassing the wall and the pale faced defenders, and spread out overhead to form a shield against the flames.

  Inken shivered as dull booms came from above, the flames crashing onto the rock with impotent fury. She hugged herself, tears stinging her eyes, and sent her silent thanks to Enala.

  Slowly their rocky shelter receded back into the ground, disappearing into the field behind them until it seemed it had never been. Breathing out a long sigh, Inken searched the sky for sign of the dragons.

  Before she could find them, the horns of the defenders began to sound.

  Climbing to her feet, Inken stumbled to the edge of the ramparts and looked out across the killing field.

  Through the smoke below came the black cloaks of the enemy, emerging like the ghosts of the past. Beasts ran amidst them, Raptors and felines and lizards alike, the whole host of Archon’s army come to claim their revenge.

  Atop the wall, the defenders watched them come. Not a single man or woman wavered. Pride for her people swelled in Inken’s chest. Each of them had witnessed the battle below
, the bravery of their Magickers as they went to their death. They had watched as Eric and Enala refused to give an inch to Archon, as they refused to surrender.

  Now they faced the tooth and claw and steel of the enemy, and they would live by that example.

  Smiling, Inken reached down and drew her blade. It was almost a relief now to see the enemy return, to feel her helplessness swept aside. This was a threat she could face, an enemy she could defeat.

  Caelin stepped up beside her, a smile on his face.

  “Let’s go to war.”

  *************

  Enala let out a long breath as Archon’s firestorm died on the rocky shield she had torn from the earth. Then she turned her attention back to the sky, and the black creature Archon had become. Reaching into the Soul Blade, she sent a pulse of magic into Eric and Enduran, and allowed its healing warmth to flow through her own body.

  Thank you, child, the dragon rumbled in her mind.

  “Thanks, Enala,” Eric echoed the dragon’s words, his voice raised over the crack of the wind.

  “Do you have a plan?” she shouted back.

  Eric laughed, nodding to the smoke drifting around them. “That was about the extent of it.”

  Enala’s heart pounded hard in her chest, but she grinned back. Joy swept through her soul at being a-dragon-back again, to soar through the sky with nothing but the strength of the dragon holding her aloft. It was freedom to her, a final connection to her parents and the gifts they’d given her. If she was to die today, she was glad to have had this last ride.

  You are welcome, little one, she heard Enduran’s voice and smiled.

  It is good to be with you, Enduran. But let us hope this is not our last ride, she thought back.

  A tremor shook the dragon and she smiled at Enduran’s laughter. Ahead the phoenix loomed, its black wings beating the sky. Flames curled out around it, tainted by its dark magic, but there were no clouds now.

  “Enduran!” Eric shouted over the howling wind. “Send the others back. There is no point in them risking their lives in this fight.”