by Levi Samuel
Several other hydralfar stepped into the open, revealing themselves to the lone caster.
Jorin’otth counted nine in total, including the one before him. Inspecting their garb, much like they inspected his, he noticed they were clearly dressed for battle. Though they weren’t standard hydralfar unit. Their dress was beyond that of the usual scouts, or even officers for that matter. These few belonged to the royal court. Thinking through his options, he came to a decision. “I was aware of the looming threat. That’s why I’m here. Could you, by chance, tell me where I might find your commander? I have imminent news to enlighten his ears.”
“You’re in luck. You happen to be standing in the presence of Jullien the Third. Emperor of the Thirteen Dynasties.” The hydralfar that pulled him up bowed, seemingly excited about the use of his title.
Jorin’otth smiled and bowed for the second time. It was as if the alfaren emperor expected him to be in awe of such status. That was the reason he preferred avoiding his people. Their superior attitudes and belittling demeanor never sat well with him. “I suppose the status of commander does not extend beyond that of an emperor.” He bowed low once again, feigning interest. “My Lord, if I may be so bold. What do you know of the dreualfar?”
Jullien smiled at the question. He’d never seen this hydralfar before. Who was he to question an emperor? Nonetheless, it was a valid question, to which he didn’t have the time to answer. And that secretly meant, he didn’t know enough to reveal that fact. “I’m afraid we don’t have the time to discuss such a broad topic. If you’ll walk with me, there’s a gateway to Lorengale just a few miles ahead. My generals await to receive orders.”
“My apologies, I’m in a bit of a hurry myself, which forbids me from basking in your superior grace. Would you allow me a brief moment? I shan’t be long.”
Jullien thought about it for a moment. This lost and dirty hydralfar was an interesting sort indeed. And if he held vital information, it was good to hear him out. “A benefit to being emperor, people will wait for me. You may proceed, so long as you uphold your brevity.”
Jorin’otth bowed again, growing annoyed by the ridiculous action. “Thank you, your supreme elegance shall be remembered for eons to come.” He silently recalled exactly what was said about this particular emperor in the years to come. “You have been deceived by the dalari, My Lord. They march under the banner of allegiance, but I’m willing to bet they’ve never told you their dark secret.”
“And what secret is that?” Jullien asked, growing uncomfortable with the lingering silence between them.
“Why, the dreualfar, My Lord. The dalari created them, just as they created the hydralfar. Though I’m certain you wish to authenticate this information for yourself. After all, a most noble and understanding commander such as yourself would never take the word of someone they met off the street. Once this information has been verified, I trust you’ll bring swift and unforgiving justice to the situation. You are, after all, our lord and savior. To allow the deaths of so many to go unpunished would speak volumes to your reputation. And we can’t have that. Anyway, I said I’d be brief, and brief I have been. I’ll leave you to your duties, My Lord. Good luck and I look forward to meeting you again.”
Before the alfaren emperor could recall him, Jorin’otth marched off into the trees toward Durnal Hill. He was running out of time and meeting the spoiled brat, while productive in his ploys, delayed him longer than he’d intended.
Jullien watched the crude hydralfar rush off, both confused and intrigued by his words. If it turned out the dalari were responsible for the dreualfar, there would be profound consequences. So many hydralfar had already fallen in this war. There was no way he was going to allow another death if this rumor proved accurate.
The thundering echo of footsteps against hardened earth traveled across the sparse woodland. Over four thousand dalari marched toward a single purpose. It was their mission to effectively end the war by any means necessary.
Ravion glanced at his brothers, trekking along beside him. It felt nice belonging to something so powerful. They were united against a force of darkness. And while he’d marched against it before, this time was different. This time it felt like destiny. Hearing the order echo from the front of the assembled companies, he prepared to stop with the rest.
Trendal turned on heel, facing the considerable number of soldiers awaiting his command. Never before had he been the direct superior to so many. Though in truth, his command hadn’t changed, just the number of officers that answered to him. Glancing at the assembled captains and lieutenants beside him, he selected what it was he was going to say.
“Dalari and guests!” He announced, looking through the ranks at Gareth hidden among the first company. “As you know, we march for Durnal Hill in an attempt to stop the enemy from unleashing a great evil upon this world. Just over that ridge—,” He turned and pointed through the trees, to the large, run-down structure perched atop the next hill. “—we step out of our small existence and we enter into the realm of legends. This battle will never be forgotten so long as dalari live to tell the tale. Keep your weapons up and watch your backs. We’re expecting the hydralfar army to join us as we reach the shattered walls, but if they don’t show, your brothers and sisters are all you have. Let’s take back our lands. Let’s take back our freedom. And let’s take back our world! Onward to victory!”
Trendal turned and broke into a full sprint. Disappearing over the steep hill, he ran as fast as he could. Reaching the base, he slowed against the steep incline, feeling his breath struggle to keep up. He needed to be the first to reach the ruined city at the peak. He owed Kaileen that much. She was no longer here to kill these evil bastards. It was his duty to ensure first blood was released in her honor.
The assembled dalari army roared, trying to catch up to their commander. He was nearly at the cities edge when they reached the small creek flowing at the center of the wide ravine. Quickly leaping over, they rushed up the hill, seeing hundreds of arrows fly down the hill past them. A few of the dalari were hit, but little could be done about it. The hill was too steep to aim properly. And the other peaks were out of range.
Demetrix saw one of the archers pop into sight, fire his arrow and duck again. He knew there was no way to target him directly, but perhaps he could do something about his cover. Running beside the swarm of dalari, he scanned the broken stone wall, seeing the numerous wood planks sealing off the holes. They’d do little against a full-on assault, but when paired with the steep incline, it was more than sufficient to hold off an attacking army. Reaching into the pocket of his quiver, he grabbed one of the tiny glass vials Kashien had given him before they split ways. Snatching an arrow from his quiver, he pressed the steel head into the formed notch in the vial’s base. Tightening the leather binding, he was certain it’d survive the trip. He grabbed his bow, and took aim at one of the weak spots in the wall beneath the archers. There was plenty of space to keep the falling stone from rolling down the hill toward him. Seeing his mark, he released the string. His arrow passed through hundreds of dalari, missing each and every one of them. Impacting the boarded-up stone, a massive explosion erupted, launching dreualfar into the air and crumbing the already weakened barrier.
Dalari soldiers cheered, altering course to the piled rubble of burning wood and bludgeoned bodies. Rushing through the gap, the sounds of battle echoed down the hill.
Ravion peaked over the top, seeing the dreualfar resistance spill from the hole in the wall. There were less than he’d expected, but more than he’d cared for. Drawing his longsword, he charged into the fray, letting his ancestral blade do most of the work. Calming himself, he let the battle predict itself, showing him what he needed to do. Against so many, being prepared was the only way to stay alive.
Attack after attack rained down upon him, yet he spun and danced, deflecting each one. So far no one had been able to touch him, but the battle was young. Trendal dodged a lazy sword slice and plunged his blade into t
he creature’s gut. Shoving it into another, he retracted the blade, knocking another swipe wide. He was surrounded, but the spray of blackened blood made him feel alive. He was honoring Kaileen. That was all that mattered. If he were to die this very moment, it would have been worth it.
Seeing Trendal out manned, Gareth charged, releasing a hearty battle shout. He felt the energy escape him, filling the air ahead.
The dreualfar flew backward from the deadly blast, disappearing beneath the swarming ranks.
Before they could recover, Gareth was upon them, slicing his unseen psiblades. He fought his way to Trendal, thinning the herd.
“Glad you could join me!” Trendal shouted over the sounds of battle. Spinning around, he stabbed deep into one of the dreualfar.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter XIX
At Long Last
The air was hot and sticky. Sword clinks and sounds of battle echoed across the vast landscape, carrying on for miles from the crowded hill top. The sun’s glow was fading, casting shadow over the battlefield.
Reaching the tree’s edge, Jorin’otth wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead. He was out of breath and labored heavily against the trunk of a large oak. Glancing across the deep valley, he could see the dalari army swarming the ruined city. He was too late. They’d already arrived, but that didn’t mean he was finished. There was little chance he’d be able to sneak in, but that really wasn’t such a challenge. The hydralfar were known to aid the dalari in battle from time to time, especially against the dreualfar. Hell, it was the dalari that came to the hydralfar’s aid when the war first began.
Silently contemplating his options, reaching a moment of clarity. He hadn’t learned magic for nothing. Cursing himself for not considering it sooner, he recited the spell. The world around him began to shift. Feeling the portal open, he took a deep breath and let it claim him. An orange glow came into view and swallowed him whole.
Stepping onto the dusty and dry dirt, he heard the commotion much closer than it had been. Glancing around, he realized he was within the fractured walls, not far from his destination. The battle hadn’t made it this close to the center yet, but it wouldn’t take them long. He had to act now or the opportunity would be gone forever.
Ignoring the few straggling dreualfar heading to their deaths, he marched along the stone corridor and found the centermost structure this god forsaken city had to offer. It was much older than the surrounding buildings and held a lingering power that made the hair on his neck rise. Pushing the wooden door open, a rush of stale air pushed past him escaping into the world for the first time in gods knew how long. Jorin’otth stepped onto the dark, ancient steps and hurried into the unknown.
Ravion set his feet, parrying the incoming rapier. Locking his fist around the dreualfar’s hand, he brought his sword across and cut into the creature’s throat. Movement further in the city caught his attention. He could see a few more dreualfar headed this direction, but that was hardly the worst of his concerns. What he saw wasn’t black, but rather pale. He saw Jorin’otth for the briefest moment. And the traitorous hydralfar disappeared into one of the smaller buildings.
“Demetrix, Gareth. We have business to finish!” Refusing to see if they were following, he fought his way through the battle and into the mostly clear city center.
Demetrix followed in his brother’s wake, picking off the few dreualfar stupid enough to charge they. They were dead before they hit the ground. “Where are we going? The battle’s back there.” Demetrix asked, catching up.
“I saw Jorin’otth. If anyone’s going to try to cast this spell, it’s going to be him.” Ravion whipped his longsword around, deflecting one of the attacking dreualfar. An arrow thudded into its skull, dropping it instantly. Letting the creature fall, he continued past, searching for the evading mage.
Demetrix plucked the arrow from the dead creature and returned it to his quiver. There was no telling how long they’d be in combat, and you could never have too many arrows.
Gareth heard his name but couldn’t tell where it came from. Punching his bladed fist into one of the black-skinned creature’s face, he smiled watching it split, spilling brain matter and blood all over the ground. He noticed Demetrix and Ravion just ahead, beyond the battle. “Where are they going?”
Trendal killed his opponent and turned to see what Gareth was talking about. “I don’t know, but I’d wager it’s important. I haven’t known them to avoid a battle without good reason. You should join them.”
“You sure? There’s still a lot more of these vile pieces of shit to kill.”
“Yeah. We’ve got this. Go help your brothers.”
Nodding his understanding, Gareth turned and charged into the thick mass of enemies. Letting his enraged shout echo, he took joy seeing the dreualfar flee him. Knowing he was the source of their fear brought more joy than he knew he possessed. Cutting his way across the thinning resistance, he broke through the back side of the enemy and rushed after the others. “Hey, wait up!”
Hearing their brother behind them, Ravion and Demetrix turned, seeing Gareth approach.
“What’s going on? There’s a ton more dreu down there to kill.”
“Jorin’otth’s here. He went in that building.” Ravion pointed to the small shack, perched at the peak of the hill, surrounded by several of the larger structures. Judging by size and appearance, it seemed out of place all alone in the middle of the city. It clearly wasn’t much to look at, but the same could be said for the entire metropolis. The words ‘run-down’ hardly explained the underlying tone.
“Well, if he’s in there, I say we drag his ass out and hang him for treason.” Gareth smiled at the prospect, taking the lead.
“After everything he’s done, I’m not sure I’d agree with giving him a trial of any sort. I say we just kill him and be done with it.” Demetrix paused, feeling his ears twitch. “We have company.”
A high-pitched horn echoed in the distance, announcing the arrival of the hydralfar. The three paused outside the shack, staring in wonder at the new arrivals on the next hill over. They marched in rows of fifty, creating a perfectly square formation. Their shimmering armor appeared almost white in the fading sun, making their assembled mass glow a radiance that could have lit the darkest cavern.
Reaching the edge of the large hill to the west, they broke formation and charged across the ravine, cutting into any dreualfar brave enough to engage them.
“Great. Now all the dreu-scum will be dead before we get back into the fray.” A disappointment carried in Gareth’s voice, never expressed before. Letting his uncharacteristically demeanor evaporate, he turned and stepped through the open door. It was narrow, barely wide enough to fit his broad shoulders. Being the largest of them that meant the others would have little to worry about. The air inside the descending stairway was rancid. Not sweet like rotten meat, and not foul like that of a sewer. This was bitter, lingering on the tip of the tongue, like acid that had been cooked into a gas. Only it didn’t burn the lungs.
Carefully, Gareth continued downward, seeing the last bit of daylight fade to total darkness. His vision shifted. He was able to see everything. The mold covered stone wall, the jagged and narrow steps beneath his feet, and lastly, the runes scratched into the stone. Running his finger over them, they seemed fresh, as if the mold had been scraped away not hours before. And just as he was beginning to get used to his sight, it went way, leaving him trapped in shadow. “Can you guys see anything?”
“I could for a minute but it’s gone now.” Demetrix answered, running his hand along the wall to ensure he didn’t misstep and tumbled down the steep pathway. “Did you see the runes? What do you think those are about?”
“No clue. Anyone have a torch?” Gareth asked, careful to place his feet before stepping down.
“I have a torch in my pack, but I doubt it’ll help. Those runes were a warding spell meant for removing sight. We’re trapped in pocket dimension of magical darkne
ss. I might be able to break the spell.”
“How would you do that?” Gareth asked, genuinely curious. He’d heard of countering spells prior to their effects taking hold. And on occasion, a studied caster was capable of dispelling the magics of a particular charm or effect. But to break a spell already in motion? He’d never thought of Ravion as the caster type. Though the version he’d had the misfortune of meeting not long ago certainly had no trouble with it. It was strange how quickly and drastically someone could change in such a short amount of time.
Studying the magical threads around him, Ravion picked out the elements of the spell, learning everything it would show him. “I can see energies the spell is made of. It’s kind of like hundreds of spider webs woven together into one complex skein. All magic has them. Each one is unique to the spell and the person who cast it. If you know where to look you can usually find a thread that didn’t get sealed completely. Once you find it, you can pick it free, and eventually break the effect. The more threads you break, the weaker the spell becomes, until finally it can’t hold anymore and the remaining threads give out. When that happens the spell collapses in on itself.”
“Yeah, I don’t care. If you think you can do it, go for it.” Gareth said, listening to the distant battle from the world above. It was faint, only able to be heard in silence. It made him wonder how deep they’d gone.
Ravion took a deep breath, forcing the magics to obey him. He was not going to be controlled by them any longer. Studying the yellow threads surrounding them, he found one that was slightly frayed. Hand trembling, he grabbed hold of it. Sweat was building on his forehead. The spell wasn’t beyond his ability, but he hadn’t tried anything so complex. Even the curse he’d recorded from the book wasn’t this strong, but again, he wasn’t relying on the magics inside himself for that. He’d used the book and the enchanted quill to do the hard part. All he had to do was serve as the catalyst for them.
