by Ben Wolf
Chapter Nineteen
Captain Beynard Anigo had scarcely believed his eyes upon realizing that it was Calum and his friends advancing toward Kanarah City with a vast army behind them, but sure enough, it was them. They’d grown and changed in appearance—especially Magnus, who was now inexplicably a massive Dragon—but it was doubtless them.
He’d been certain they would perish when he’d allowed them to leave—or rather, after he’d sworn not to further pursue them. Yet somehow they’d survived the desolation of the valley surrounding Trader’s Pass and the perils of whatever lay beyond, and now they’d returned with a formidable army and new powers the likes of which he’d never seen.
After Captain Fulton was killed, his superiors back at Solace had sent Anigo a message promoting him to the rank of Captain and commissioning him to take Fulton’s place in overseeing the soldiers based in Kanarah City.
While it was doubtless a promotion, and while he’d enjoyed the initial phase of reorganizing the fractured structure in the void Captain Fulton had left behind, Captain Anigo despised the position itself. It kept him tied down with administrative duties and prevented him from the work he loved, the work he’d become known for—going into the field and making things happen.
Now the position had maneuvered him into a confrontation with an invading force of Windgales, Saurians, and Wolves. Were it not for the King’s provision of aid just prior to the army’s arrival, Captain Anigo might’ve resigned his post then and there.
But deep down, he knew he could never do that. He’d signed up for a life of service in the King’s military, and now only death could separate him from his duty.
As he surveyed the force approaching them from Trader’s Pass, he couldn’t help but wonder if that day had finally come. From atop his horse, Candlestick, he glanced back at the green pods they’d entrenched at even intervals behind the city walls and hoped the King’s provision would be enough to turn the fight to their advantage.
Captain Anigo ordered Commander Jopheth—who’d also received a promotion at the same time—to have his soldiers fall back into the city and seal the gate. With the Windgales’ ability to fly, the city’s walls wouldn’t keep them out, nor would they keep the Dragon out, but they had made preparations to deal with that—at least for the Windgales.
Now they would find out whether or not their plan would work. Captain Anigo gave the command, and his men lit their torches.
When the gate slammed shut, Axel’s fury intensified. Though Calum and the others behind him shouted at him to stop, he continued to run forward, propelled by impotent rage.
Arrows thudded into the road around him by the dozen, but he paid them no mind. He hadn’t come this far to get picked off by a random arrow from some faceless archer on the walls of Kanarah City. Nor would his Blood Ore armor, now a full set since Magnus no longer had need of it, yield to measly little arrows.
But despite Axel’s best efforts, he couldn’t reach the gate before a searing blast of emerald dragonfire struck the wrought-iron portcullis and the wall from overhead, reducing it all to molten slag. Then an enormous shadow blotted out the afternoon sun from behind Axel.
The frightened shouts of the soldiers posted on the walls filled Axel’s ears, and he saw several men go flying as the gate collapsed into a slurry of burning liquid. They were the lucky ones, he realized. Magnus’s blast had reduced several others to ash in the blink of an eye.
Still, he didn’t stop running.
Overhead, the flicker of Wisps dashing over the city walls tried to steal Axel’s attention away, but he didn’t let his focus waver. Thanks to Magnus, the gate was open, but in order to get inside, he’d have to jump over a pool of molten metal and stone. With one last push, he increased his speed, timed his jump, and leaped just before he reached the edge of the slag.
Despite wearing Magnus’s old armor, Axel soared well over the pool of superheated liquid and was primed to land squarely on his feet—until something reminiscent of a thick tree branch covered with leaves knocked him backward.
The blow cracked into his armored chest, stealing both his breath and his momentum, and forcing him back out of the city the way he’d come in. He landed on his back and skidded to a halt some forty feet away from the gate entrance. Whatever had struck him had done it with incredible power.
It hadn’t hurt all that much, but Axel struggled to find his breath as he stood back up to his feet. Had he seen the hit coming, he would’ve reacted differently, but it had seemingly come out of nowhere. At least he hadn’t dropped his Blood Ore sword in the process.
From very near behind Axel, the thunder of countless Saurian footsteps approached. Now back on his feet, he glanced back and saw them charging toward the city, toward him.
Overhead, Axel noticed the Wisp warriors who’d flown over the city walls being rebuffed by… more tree branches? Or vines of some sort? They dueled with thrashing whips of brown and green, some of which even had specks of white, or pinks and reds, almost like flowers.
Even Magnus himself had refrained from diving down toward the city, instead choosing to remain airborne as he surveyed the happenings below.
As the Saurians passed by Axel, he peered through the opening where the gate used to be. At first, he saw only soldiers, but once the Saurians reached the gateway and the pool of melted metal and stone, now cool enough to walk over, branches and vines from the sides of the opening lashed out and repelled them.
The Saurians fought back, swinging axes and swords to fell the aggressive plants, but to no avail. The flora formed a flexible network across the opening, gradually filling in more and more of the space until an impenetrable wall of thorny vines and branches separated the Saurians from the interior of Kanarah City.
Among them, Axel even noticed crimson buds beginning to bloom into roses. Their petals alone were the size of his fist, and some of the flowers had swelled to twice the size of his head.
Axel marveled at the sight. He’d never seen anything like it before.
Then he looked up again in time to see the same wall of branches twisting and curling upward, gradually forming a natural dome of browns and greens, accented with white, pink, and rose-red flowers, over the entire city.
Axel growled to himself. However they’d done it didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Axel still lacked the power to do anything about it.
He cursed under his breath, lowered his sword, and regrouped with Calum and the others farther back along Trader’s Pass, still enraged, but now equally frustrated and defeated.
Captain Anigo breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t quite known what to expect when the pods had arrived. Green and seemingly made of a cluster of leaves, the pods had literally taken root in the shallow ditches the soldiers had dug around the inner perimeter of the city walls.
Then, as if prompted by the approach of the enemy soldiers, the pods had sprouted into gigantic swirls of vines that autonomously defended the city from all manner of attacks. Now the canopy overhead completely shielded them from attack, but it also blocked out the vast majority of daylight. Only a few seams of sunshine filtered through, not nearly enough to light up the city.
But that’s what the torches were for. With each soldier holding a weapon in one hand and a torch in the other, the inner perimeter of the city remained well lit.
The sight of the vines twisting and curling in the relative darkness, ever reinforcing the foliage above them, unnerved Captain Anigo. They reminded him of the Gronyxes’ unending supply of writhing tentacles in the sewers and tunnels below their feet, and he had to look away to banish the memory from his mind.
As far as he knew, there were still more Gronyxes down there, haunting the tunnels, but he couldn’t think about that now. They kept to the darkness below, out of sight. Despite their fearsome nature, they weren’t a concern, especially now.
He blinked away the last vestiges of eerie green light from his mind’s eye and refocused on the task at hand. He redoub
led his resolve and nodded to himself. Even if a few stragglers managed to break through the city’s thorny shell, his men would quickly dispatch them. The King’s provision was working, and soon reinforcements would arrive to bolster their numbers.
But when a blast of emerald fire sheared through the canopy high above, Captain Anigo’s resolve faltered.
Even though he’d seen it before, Calum couldn’t help but revel in the sight of Magnus loosing emerald fire from his gaping mouth. A concentrated stream of flames sheared through the city’s thorn-studded exterior, searing a smoldering line down to the city walls, which melted under the immense heat of the fire.
The canopy immediately started trying to mend the egregious wound Magnus had dealt to it, but a few dozen Wisps still zipped through the opening and into the city below. To Calum’s shock and awe, Magnus actually landed on the top of the dome, which somehow held his weight.
His nostrils still smoking, Magnus dug his powerful hands into the burning fissure he’d created. Then, with every ounce of his considerable strength, he began to pull the network of vines apart. More impressively, it was actually working.
Though the vines fought back, coiling around Magnus’s limbs and raking their thorns across his scales, the Dragon didn’t relent. He drew in another deep breath and exhaled another blast of green fire down into the city.
Seeing it sent a twist rippling through Calum’s gut. He supposed the soldiers resisting them deserved whatever they got, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for them. It’s not like they stood any real chance against Magnus’s flames; they would just die, incapable of defending themselves, and painfully so.
But Calum was more concerned for the actual citizens of Kanarah City. If Magnus’s attacks hit any of the buildings, innocent people might be hurt or killed as well.
Still, Calum knew Magnus well enough to know he wasn’t reckless with his power. Because of the dome, he couldn’t see what Magnus had hit inside the city, but he had to trust that it wasn’t a soft target.
As the flames from Magnus’s mouth ceased, a portion of the dome shuddered, shriveled, and turned brown, all within a matter of seconds. Then they fell away from the rest of the dome’s structure like chaff blowing away on the wind.
It happened so quickly that Magnus almost fell into the city with them, but he readjusted with three vigorous wing beats that helped to right him on what remained of the dome.
In the aftermath of his blast, Magnus had reduced a large section of the city wall to molten stone, and a corresponding wide section of the canopy was also gone.
They had a way into the city.
Wielding the Dragon’s Breath sword in his hands, Calum charged toward the city with Lumen’s army behind and all around him.
Wide-eyed, Captain Anigo watched as Magnus’s flames obliterated several nearby pods in a row. The green fire had shorn through them as if they were paper, and the vines that had sprouted from them perished in short order, falling lifelessly to the city streets and onto buildings.
Though the remaining vines already reached for each other to bridge the new gap, it wouldn’t happen soon enough. Windgales were already cruising through the opening, and Saurians and Wolves streamed through the destroyed section of wall, which was no longer molten beneath their feet.
Still atop Candlestick, Captain Anigo shouted orders to his men to fill the gap themselves. Dutifully, they abandoned their torches and obeyed, flinging themselves at the encroaching forces in a cacophonous clash of steel, talons, and fangs.
Like the vines struggling against the Dragon overhead, the soldiers couldn’t stem the tide. The Saurians were too strong and durable, the Wolves too cunning and quick, the Windgales too fast and flighty.
The opposing army pierced through Captain Anigo’s soldiers like a spike plunging into flesh. He didn’t have enough men to resist the incursion, and even if he did, what good could mere soldiers and steel do against the weapons and powers of foes such as these?
Captain Anigo turned to Commander Jopheth, who rode a brown horse. Despite his initial dislike for the man, Jopheth had proven resourceful and competent as a corporal. Though he’d received his promotion to commander more out of necessity than merit, he’d become someone Captain Anigo could truly trust, even in the most uncertain of times.
And now certainly qualified as such.
“This will be my final order to you, Commander,” Captain Anigo said. “Take four men with you. Enter the sewers beneath the streets and flee the city. Go to the King. Tell him what transpired here today. He must know what kind of foe we are facing.”
“Captain, I—” Commander Jopheth began, but Captain Anigo cut him off.
“There will be no argument,” he asserted. “Go now.”
With a curt nod, Commander Jopheth urged his horse forward, and they trotted away.
Captain Anigo watched him for a moment, then he refocused his attention on the flow of enemies cascading over his soldiers. He raised his lance, kicked Candlestick’s sides, and raced toward the battle.
As he did so, another burst of emerald fire from above consumed another swath of pods, felling another section of the dome. This time, thick branches riddled with thorns fell all around Captain Anigo as Candlestick charged forward. The foliage thudded onto the streets, rooftops, and even some soldiers on both sides of the conflict.
Captain Anigo didn’t let Candlestick slow down.
The tsunami of enemies soon fixed their attention on him, and they rushed to engage him in battle. Windgales darted toward him from above, Wolves dashed toward him from the sides, and Saurians lumbered toward him straight on.
Since he had failed to do so in life, Captain Anigo would fulfill his duty in death.
He loosed a war cry and pointed the tip of his lance at the nearest Saurian.
Thorny vines lashed into Captain Anigo’s periphery and shielded him from the onslaught only yards away. Something like hands, but made of green branches, swatted the first wave of Saurians aside as if they weighed nothing. Thorny fingers knocked Windgales from the sky and belted pouncing Wolves away.
In seconds, the only foe that remained in Captain Anigo’s path was the Saurian he’d targeted, now wearing a shocked expression as the vines cleared out everyone around him. By the time he looked back to Captain Anigo, a lance was already screaming toward his face. It pierced deep into the Saurian’s golden eye and burst out the back of his head.
Captain Anigo yanked his lance free, disregarding the blood dripping from it thanks to the mortal wound he’d inflicted, and looked to the vines that had saved him—only they weren’t just vines anymore. Nor did the vines cover any part of the city in the dome any longer.
Instead, dozens of hulking green golems thrashed the invading forces with thorny fingers and whips all around, fighting side-by-side with the smattering of soldiers who’d managed to survive this long.
At the center of their chests were the pods the soldiers had planted. They’d uprooted and now walked—if it could be called that—on those roots as if they were legs, and vines coiled and twisted outward from their torsos to form arms. At the top of each pod bloomed a breathtaking rose flower, each two or three times the size of Captain Anigo’s head.
Perhaps there is still a chance for victory after all, Captain Anigo mused.
Either way, he was still alive, and that meant he could still fight. So he readied his lance and followed a pair of the golems into battle.
Axel had just taken out his first soldier inside the city when the rose golems blossomed all around the King’s soldiers, bolstering their numbers, and he cursed under his breath. Of course, right when he’d finally gotten to work, something had to go horribly wrong.
Above him, the dome of plants withered and began to fall onto the city like a greenish-brown blanket draped over the buildings and streets. They’d given up on their defensive shell in favor of a more direct—and violent—solution.
Ahead, the rose golems thrashed at the Saurians in the lead, swattin
g many of them aside like toys. They lashed their thorny vines at both the Wisps flying at them from overhead and the Wolves circling them on the ground, occasionally hitting their targets, albeit not as consistently as with the Saurians.
As Axel considered whether or not he could tangle with these viny beasts, he caught sight of a soldier atop a familiar white stallion skewering the head of a Saurian with his silver lance.
Captain Anigo.
Whether or not Axel could take on the rose golems, he knew he could beat Captain Anigo in a fight. He’d already done it once.
He squared himself with the horse and its rider and bellowed the captain’s name over the ruckus of the battle around them. At first, he doubted Captain Anigo could’ve possibly heard him over the roar of the warfare, but then he turned his head and looked straight at Axel.
Axel clanked his sword against his Blood Ore chest armor and beckoned Captain Anigo to come to him.
With the adeptness of a seasoned rider, Captain Anigo smoothly redirected his stallion toward Axel and pointed his lance as they galloped forward.
Excitement prickled up Axel’s spine in anticipation of their rematch. He readied his Blood Ore sword, adjusting his grip. It would cleave through both horse and rider if he swung hard enough.
The thunder of hoof beats hammered in Axel’s skull and rattled his ankles as Captain Anigo charged at him, but Axel was ready. With perfect timing, he drew his sword back and—
A thick vine slammed into Axel’s chest, knocking him back a dozen feet. He landed hard on his back and skidded to a halt against the exterior of a building. Stunned, he looked up in time to see a rose golem lumbering toward him on root-legs, its multiple vines drawn back to finish him off in a barrage of brutal lashes.
Axel cursed again. If only Lumen had granted him some power, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
