by B. A. Scott
“It’s been a long time,” said the Sage.
“Ages,” Doniel agreed. “I heard you’d returned with my sons. I can’t tell you how thankful I am, knowing you were with them. Thank you for seeing them back safely.”
Athiux’s face gave no evidence of emotion. He simply replied with a nod.
A whoosh and thud caught Doniel’s attention as Vega landed behind him from the sky. The Aerolus wore armor and held a spear in his hand. Another was secured to his back, and the Skull Dagger furentus was sheathed on his belt. Upon one arm, he wore an armored gauntlet that began at his elbow, and stretched well beyond his enormous, taloned hand, extending his reach with three large, deadly sharp fingers.
“The Aeroli are in position,” he told Athiux. “And we’ve distributed your furenti to the ranks. I pray they are enough to contest this horde of death.”
“How many do you see?” Athiux asked.
“Nigh five times what hold these walls.”
“And Daro? Do you see him yet?”
“Yes. He’s there.” Vega pointed beyond the wall, where Daro’s army parted for two figures, riding side by side on heavy black steeds.
“Is there fear in your heart tonight, Hadaan?” Daro asked.
“I have no fear of men,” Hadaan answered, elevating Daro’s pride.
When they reached the front lines, nothing but empty earth stood between them and Caleton’s massive gates.
“Lead the assault on the southern wall,” Daro told Hadaan. “Smash it to the ground.”
“It will be done, Father,” Hadaan said with a bow of his head. He proceeded to the southern end of Caleton. Daro dismounted, and handed his reigns to a nearby Primen. The Dark Lord glared at the city before him. His eyes traveled from the outer wall to the castle within, and up the magnificent Fountain spire.
For a moment, all was still, save for the winds.
“See your fate before you now,” Daro whispered to the grand city before him, letting the minds and hearts of the soldiers above fill with fear at the sight of his deadly warriors.
Doniel looked to the west, where the last molten edge of the setting sun wavered just above the horizon. At that moment, a snowflake landed upon his armored shoulder.
“He brings his demon spawn to our walls,” Doniel said, “and plagues our lands with an evil heart. Tonight, we put that evil to rest.”
“May their soulless bodies break upon these walls,” Athiux added as he unsheathed his Earth Sword furentus. He raised it high over his right shoulder, and swiped violently toward Daro.
The land beneath Daro’s feet trembled. His forces felt the land swell, and for a moment, all were confused. The ground cracked, split and crumbled in on itself.
“To the walls!” Daro commanded, and his children raced toward Caleton. As they did, the earth below them fell into a great crescent-shaped chasm that grew wider with every passing moment. Daro looked back through the shroud of snowflakes to see the ranks behind him falling to their deaths.
“Take the city to its knees!” he yelled to those who remained.
“Here they come,” said Athiux.
“Ready catapults! Spear-bows! Archers!” Doniel’s voice echoed across the battlements as he unsheathed his sword. “Fire!” he yelled as the other Captains and Generals upon the outer wall bellowed the same command. Caleton struck the armies below with a ferocious barrage of arrows, spears and rock. But Daro ignited shields of magic to protect his forces.
“Time to leave you,” Vega said upon seeing flying Fated Ones gather into formation. “Good fortune to you both!” Then, he crouched and sprang upward, beating his wings as he soared into the sky.
With the power of Gale, Athiux brought the strength of a hundred winds against Daro’s charging demons. The great gust kept them from the outer wall, pushing some of the army back into the crescent-shaped gorge. Daro ignited further shields to protect his armies.
“He counters your magic?” Doniel asked Athiux.
“With ease,” the Sage told him.
“And he’s blocking our arrows with shields,” Doniel added.
“Shields can be broken,” Athiux said. “But the magic to do so has to be stronger than the wielder—stronger than Daro.”
“Then break them down!”
“I cannot. But I know what might,” said the Sage as an arrow whizzed past his ear. He reached into a pouch at his waist, and pulled out a small, semi-translucent orb. “Fire Pearls,” he said, handing Doniel the furentus. “We only have so many.”
Without hesitation, Doniel took the Fire Pearl to the nearest catapult, adding to its payload. Upon his command, the catapult hurled the furentus from the outer wall.
A few seconds later, the orb collided with one of Daro’s shields, and thunderous explosions of red and orange fire erupted in a bursting of light. Bodies flew through the air as dirt and rock clouded the land below. When the dust had settled, a crater, fifty paces wide, was all that remained.
Doniel couldn’t believe his eyes. He took notice as several other soldiers and their officers followed his example, and hurled their own Fire Pearls over the wall.
“What magic do they possess?” Daro asked. “Their efforts are useless. They only delay by moments.” He released his shields, and held the onslaught of Fire Pearls in mid-air, levitating them for a moment above his children.
“Oh lord,” uttered Athiux, his voice filled with dread. “FALL BACK!” he bellowed. But before any man could obey his command, Lord Daro sent the Fire Pearls speeding back toward Caleton. Where the furenti struck, the wall was utterly demolished. The great stones and heavy doors that had once comprised the gates blasted away in great chunks, sending all who stood upon them into the air.
* * * * *
“What was that?” Gabrel asked as the group made their way to the lower levels of the castle. A shudder ran through every stone in every wall of the great stronghold, and dust sizzled down from the ceiling upon their heads.
“Sounded like a mountain hit the castle,” Kaven said.
“Ayden, how much farther?” Kade inquired.
“Just through here,” said the Princess, leading the group down a wide spiral staircase.
“After you, Kade,” Kaven said, gesturing for the Enchantress to proceed after Ayden first. Kade obliged, though her face aroused fear in Kaven’s heart. She had the look of dread, as though she was about to do something she’d regret.
“Asos, Domini, we’ll bring up the rear,” Gabrel told the soldiers quietly. “I’d like to keep you between the Enchantress and ourselves for as long as possible.”
“Why?” asked Asos. “Do you not trust her?”
“It’s complicated,” Gabrel said.
The staircase delved deep below the city. Gabrel started to wonder how traveling downward would take them beyond Caleton’s walls.
“Do the catacombs extend from the city all the way to Palthea?” he asked.
“No,” said Ayden. “A secret lies hidden deep within our vaults—a secret you shall be privileged to learn this night, and one, my father fears will be discovered if the battle should go ill. We can only hope that if victory is not ours to be had, the castle falls to such a death that the very passage we speed through is crushed beneath the rubble.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Gabrel said.
The staircase ended at an archway that birthed a long, stone corridor, lined with torches.
“The passage to our ancestors,” the Princess told the others. “On the other side, the secret will unfold.”
* * * * *
As Caleton’s defenses retreated inward to the protection of the second wall, Daro’s forces poured into the city. Athiux and Doniel, bloodied by the blasts that obliterated the outer wall, sped as fast as their legs would carry them.
High above the ground, Vega soared through the air, flanked on either side by two of his fellow Aeroli. He plunged his spear into the neck of one Fated as another landed on his back. It strangled the Aerolu
s’s neck, and bit deeply into his flesh. Vega found it nearly impossible to maintain flight. As his vision grew dark, he took hold of the Skull Dagger, and reached behind his head to the Fated One. With a quick slice of the blade, the Fated’s grip on Vega loosened. The creature’s eyes rolled back into its head, and when Vega twisted in the air, the heavy corpse tumbled off his back.
Vega came to his senses, and surveyed the madness around him. It was utter chaos. In the distance, he saw one of his fellow Aeroli scrape the face off of a Fated One with its armored gauntlet. But behind the winged warrior, another Fated soared straight for his back, a long, deadly spear held ready to skewer him.
“Athalusian!” Vega bellowed, but the clamor of battle muffled his yell. Vega flew toward the Aerolus, attempting to intercept the Fated before it delivered its blow. But after a moment, he realized he would not be able to get there in time.
He reached to his back, and grabbed hold of his last spear, hurling the weapon through the air. It hissed loudly as it flew, entering the Fated’s body a moment before it could plunge its spear into Athalusian.
The demon’s wings flapped no more, and it fell toward the ground. Vega, seeking to reclaim his weapon, heaved himself into a head-first dive toward the descending Fated. As he soared downward, his feathers trembling against great gusts of freezing air, Vega dodged a spear, then, with quick flashes of the Skull Dagger, sliced deadly gashes into the Fated he passed.
Finally, Vega sheathed the dagger upon his belt, then wrapped his hands around the spear that pierced the falling Fated One. He placed his feet on the creature’s stomach, and with a quick yank, he pushed himself up from the demon, taking the spear from its blackened flesh, spewing dark blood from the wound as he sprang, somersaulting backward with wings wide. He twirled the spear, and looked in every direction for the next Fated to battle. Above him, one was already delivering a deadly blow toward his head with a black sword. Vega raised the spear with both hands, and caught the Fated’s blade along the shaft before it could meet his flesh.
“Merciful Creator,” Athiux uttered as he and Doniel reached the second wall’s battlements, then looked out at the city before them. Fires, set ablaze to the town, illuminated Caleton, and Fated and Aeroli battled in the skies above. But Daro’s forces did not attack the second wall. Instead, they stood behind their master, awaiting his orders.
Before Daro, the city’s Temple of the Goddesses stood impressive, ornate, upheld by statues of the goddesses themselves, like three massive pillars. The priests within refused to retreat, and remained obstinately in Daro’s path.
“Is this how you choose to die?” Daro asked them.
“May the Goddesses burn your soul from the Afterworld,” one of the priests said.
Daro shook his head. “Such fools,” he uttered. “Such fools.”
He stepped forward, and spread his arms wide. With a crouching lunge, he slapped his hands together. A massive tidal wave rose from the earth; it foamed and roared as it rose higher and higher into the cool night sky. And with a thrusting of Daro’s palms, it raced toward Caleton’s second wall, obliterating the temple, devouring every house, tree and rock it touched.
“Brace yourselves!” Doniel yelled as the mountainous waters rushed toward him. Some of the soldiers had already begun retreating, frightened for their lives.
“Hold your positions!” Athiux ordered, then, using the power of Suspension, he attempted to freeze the approaching wave. It slushed, churned, and cracked upon itself as Daro’s magic battled his own. But ultimately, just seconds before it reached the wall, the wave solidified into a massive block of ice, widely spanning the entire length of the northern wall.
The soldiers exhaled in relief when they realized their doom had not been met, but upon seeing the frozen, contorted bodies of their fellow soldiers—their friends—sealed within the ice, their relief turned to horror.
Far below, Daro’s brow lowered beneath his mask. “There is nothing you can do...” he whispered to the Sage from afar, “...that I cannot undo.” He took a deep breath, then, with a thrusting of both hands, sent both Gale, and a mighty impellment spell at the frozen wave. It shattered instantly into a storm of deadly shards and boulders, and struck the battlements with such force that limbs were slashed from bodies, and portions of the wall were blasted away.
Athiux conjured what shields he could to protect himself and those around him, but when the last of the icy onslaught ended, he saw very few soldiers left standing.
“Take the wall,” Daro said coldly, sending his army charging across the devastated terrain.
“Athiux, send ‘em to the depths with your sword!” Doniel yelled. But the Sage hesitated. Making use of the Earth Sword within Caleton did not seem wise.
“And destroy the city with them?!” he asked.
“Everything beyond the second wall is destroyed already!” argued Doniel.
Athiux held the amber blade before his eyes. Beyond it, he saw the dark figure of Lord Daro walking slowly amongst the ranks toward the second wall. The Sage brought the sword low, then swung upwards, not once, but again and again, up over his shoulders. Instantly, a great rumbling took the soldiers upon the wall from their feet, and all braced the stone below.
Massive pillars of rock rose violently from the ground, nearly touching, like a great wall of stone that soared well into the skies. Daro looked at the towering structures before him with amazement. At first, he thought the obstruction was the Sage’s method of conjuring additional protection for the city. But upon a slow waving of Athiux’s sword, Daro saw the great rock wall lean toward his armies, then crumble into giant chunks.
Daro instantly attempted to levitate the avalanche in midair, like he’d done with the Fire Pearls. But when he realized its force and magnitude were too great to impede, he abandoned the idea completely.
“Damn you!” he bellowed as he formed a protective dome shield around himself and his nearest warriors. The storm of rock smashed fully to the ground, annihilating a mass of Daro’s army, as well as much of the northern part of Caleton.
Just when the soldiers upon the wall felt the briefest inkling of hope, the ground before them cracked. Like jagged lightning, the gaps raced from where the avalanche had fallen, breaking the second wall in several places, and even stretching to the innermost wall as well, shaking its guardians off balance.
Doniel took in the sight of the destroyed city. “More harm than good, that did us,” he whispered to himself.
“I told you—” Athiux started to speak, but stopped when he saw Daro’s troops spilling in through the gaps in the wall. “Oh, dear god,” he uttered. “Fall back,” the words came quietly, but when he realized that none of the soldiers heard his command, he yelled it again at the top of his lungs.
Amidst the resting boulders of the recent avalanche, Daro blasted his way free of the rock, sending chunks of earth into the air. When he rose to stand atop the rubble, he saw what remained of his army leaping from rock to rock, pouring through the destroyed second wall, delving deeper into the heart of Caleton.
Madness consumed the city as its guardians raced for the castle’s last line of defense—the inner wall—the highest and mightiest of the three.
“Athiux!” Doniel called out. “How will we hold the wall? What can we do that we have not already done?”
Athiux looked to the high tower above. “The walls will not stand against Daro’s might,” said the Sage. “But all hope is not lost. We can still keep the Fountain of Evindar safe. Daro can take the castle. He can take our very lives. But the Fountain—if we can keep it from him, the victory shall be forever ours. Once inside the wall, Daro will make for the Fountain chamber. Take your men and hold the bridge wall before it. I shall wait in the chamber itself, alongside the King, and aid the city’s guardians from on high.”
“I’ll hold him off as long as I can,” Doniel said. Then, he thought of Gabrel and Kaven. They needed to make their escape before it was too late. The castle will be overrun
soon enough, he thought. “Hurry my sons,” he said into the cool night air. “Hurry.”
Table of Contents
Chapter 26: Escape to Palthea
Ayden led the others deep into the catacombs. The passageways and stairwells delved deeper into the earth than Gabrel and Kaven could have possibly imagined. As they made their way out of a long tunnel, they entered a lengthy chamber laid with white stone, and lined with statues. Large indentions housed the grand tombs of Caleton. Kings, Queens, Princes, Princesses, Sages and prominent figures from high houses filled every corner of the vault.
Ayden spent no time pausing to discuss the tombs emblazoned with the Mercer family crest, though both Gabrel and Kaven wanted to know who lay inside each and every one. It wasn’t until the group turned a corner at the end of the chamber, leading into another, that one of the brothers spoke, for upon each tomb in the new hall was marked the very crest they bore upon their backs.
“Ayden,” Gabrel began.
“The Hall of Caladen,” the Princess told him, expecting his question. “Those of your ancestors who shall remain under the city of their name.”
At the very end of the chamber, in a wide indention, much larger, deeper and more ornately decorated than any of the others, Kaven saw a spectacular tomb.
“Whose is that?” he asked.
“It is the greatest Caladen to ever have lived,” said Ayden.
“Does Genus Caladen lay there?” Kaven guessed.
“The first Genus, yes,” the Princess confirmed.
“But I thought—” Kaven began. “We were told he died at Avenalora.”
“The truth of where his body was brought lies before your very eyes, Kaven,” said the Princess. “Anything else you might have heard is a distortion of history. All the great Caladens have always and will always rest in these sacred halls. So says my father, and his father before him.”
