A Skeleton and a Lich

by Michael Chatfield

  “We teach justice, not war.”

  It wrapped his head.”

  “We strive for peace, not destruction.”

  His chest.

  “We will not look away from the world, whether it’s darkness or it’s light.”

  His Eyes.

  “We are the harbingers, the peace seekers, the blood letters, the god killers, and the farmers.”

  His hands.

  “To those who know these words, they know our oath.”

  Purple threads ran across his body, covering him, converging on the power that had covered his heart, creating a faint Guardian Symbol as it grew more powerful.

  “You have heard a warrior’s words.

  “A Guardian’s word is their law.

  “We do not give it freely and do not accept it without understanding.”

  Damien finished repeating after them.

  He stood there in purple light a guardian emblem on his chest.

  He didn’t seem to notice it and seemed at complete peace, looking at him it was like looking at a slumbering beasts, ready to be awoken.

  The leaders own Guardian emblems lit up with power, illuminating the hall. The eyes of their emblems opened, the power of Dena’s races converged, meeting in the air between the Tribunal leaders and Damien.

  “A Guardian is neither a shield nor a sword, but at times they will be asked to be both. They are the force that protects, a force that judges and are judged. Your actions will have greater consequence than you ever believed. You have become a Guardian, and you must strive every day to be better than the last.” The dwarven leader leaned on a metal cane as she looked into Damien’s eyes.

  The purple beams of power disappeared to show an emblem formed from metal and purple lines. It floated over to Damien and touched his own glowing half-formed emblem on his armor. It passed through without pausing. The threads that had spread across his body linked together.

  There was a rush of power, the wind and ground shook as power flooded towards Damien.

  He grunted as the power flowed through him, his eyes flickering purple as the hairs of those watching stood on end as they could feel the terrifying power rolling off of Damien.

  The purple threads of power spread through his body started sinking into his bones, and his aura increased in power.

  The world calmed down and Damien stood back up straight.

  There was a change to him, he looked older, his power was withdrawn and his movements were more refined.

  Damien looked at the symbol on his chest that was fading, imprinted upon him. No matter what he would forever remain a guardian.

  Damien touched the symbol, seeing it one couldn’t help but feel their heart being pulled as he had finally taken the last step to become a Guardian after nearly five centuries of upholding their rules and teachings.

  He quickly recovered and stepped down from the platform.

  The leaders all watched as he stepped towards his friends.

  “Are there any others?” the human lady asked, looking to the others.

  “I wish to try,” Aila said. After seeing it all, she felt as though she had to, that she needed to make the jump.

  The Tribunal looked at her.

  “Aila Wranoris, you are a princess among the dark elves. You know that if you become a Guardian, you will not be able to take on the role of princess unless you cease to be a Guardian? You may not use your personal strength or position in a negative manner,” the elven leader said in a severe tone.

  “I am a princess, but there is a reason that we abide by the council, only turning to the royal family in times of need and disaster,” Aila said.

  “Very well.” The elven leader looked to the others.

  “Please.” The human lady indicated to the area within the closed Guardian eyes.

  Aila stood where Damien had before.

  The leaders of the Tribunal settled down and closed their eyes. The eyes around Aila opened and she felt her body relax.

  She found herself on a panel of judges; she had been a judge for years. It was tiring and old to her. In front of her stood two men: one who was the accused and one the witness. The witness was terrified while the accused, a man believed to run an underground crime syndicate within the city, sat there without a care in the world.

  He has powerful ties that reach all the way up. Even if I convict him, it will be overturned and he will be free in a few weeks at the most. We can carry out the law within these walls but it is undone by just a few outside of it.

  She looked at the prosecution. The case had been pulled together by a young man who had become a guard to use the power of the city to seek justice for his brother. He had taken his time to build a case, find a witness. He sat behind the bench, his face blank but relieved.

  He expects me to do my job, but even if I do, it will be undone. They will try to kill him and his witness as a display to all others.

  I need something to hold him tighter, something to shift his aim away from them. He’s arrogant and thinks he’s above the law. If I make him believe that, and the right word games... That might work. It’s a gamble, but at the very least I can try to rope him in.

  She talked to her clerk and gave them a message.

  They read it and hurried off.

  “Mister Duncan, gangster, thug degenerate, peddler of drugs, possible murderer, low-life coward, hiding behind Daddy’s lawyers.”

  “Objection!” one of the lawyers called out, finally recovering.

  “What to? Obviously it’s not the money in your pocket, Mister Malrooney,” Aila said.

  “This is a court of law. I demand that we have a judge not prejudiced against my client!”

  “The rest of them are dealing with cases that won’t stain their hands or for people who don’t have Daddy backing them. I wonder—why is he so attached to his delinquent son? Do you do the services for him or do you get your boys to do it?” Aila could see Duncan’s veins were popping out. As people in the audience hid their laughter, his thugs looked around with threatening looks. Not used to others speaking out about you, are you?

  “Miss Wranoris!”

  “Malrooney, I have much better things than being at this trial with some service boy. So let’s get on with it!”

  “I ask that Miss Wranoris is removed and another judge replaces her!”

  “On what grounds?” Aila looked perplexed.

  “It is clear that your judgment is impaired!”

  “Impaired? I was just reading out charges. And isn’t Mister Duncan here listed as owning a garden company? Doesn’t that mean he trims his clients’ bushes, bends down and really gets into the dirt?”

  Duncan slammed his hand on the table.

  “Frustrated by your job, Mister Duncan? I would be, too—sounds like you spend a lot of time on your hands and knees.”

  Aila went back to her documents. People looked at one another, wondering what was happening.

  Aila saw that one of the guards wearing civilian attire sat down in the seats. He coughed and looked her in the eyes.

  “Well, looking at everything here, it looks like Mister Duncan is free to go.” Aila put the documents down. She made sure that they didn’t close.

  The prosecution started to pack up and the guard looked at Duncan, who was pulling on his suit as he started to leave. His dark eyes bore into Aila’s.

  She could feel the dark thoughts behind his eyes.

  The guard who had brought the charges and the witness was talking to the prosecution. The witness looked as though he were going to collapse as those dark eyes from Duncan’s thugs landed on them.

  Aila used her superior hearing, moving things around in her binder.

  “No one disrespects me like that. Get some boys. Go to her house—make an example and put her corpse out for all to see. I don’t care if she’s some judge.”

  “Come back to the bench, please, Mister Duncan!” Aila brightened up as everyone looked over.

  Duncan looked at his
lawyer.

  “Miss Wranoris, this entire session has been ridiculous. What do you mean?” Malrooney looked deeply disappointed with her.

  “Sorry. I was reviewing something here and I believe that there will be new evidence soon,” Aila said.

  “Really, Miss Wranoris!” Malrooney let out a displeased sigh and stared daggers at her.

  “Malrooney, do I need to remind you whose courtroom this is?” Aila asked in a quiet voice that made him stand straighter. “I didn’t think so.”

  The guard who was in civilian clothes left the room, with no one noticing him. He had been just a few feet from Duncan.

  Her clerk passed something to an aide of the prosecution, who brought it up to the bench.

  “We would like to submit new evidence,” the man said.

  “Good.” Aila nodded as everyone returned to their seats.

  “We were not aware of this,” Malrooney said.

  “Well, it is recent evidence.” The prosecution looked at Aila.

  “Present it,” Aila said.

  The recording played, with Duncan’s voice.

  Aila’s expression darkened. Malrooney went pale and Duncan frowned, looking around.

  “Threatening a court justice with death, planning it out, attempted murder, of the second degree. Being the subject of this threat, I really cannot take over these proceedings. I will have to pass this to the county judges. Mister Duncan, you will be held in holding while we investigate these accusations,” Aila said.

  Her vision resolved and she left the courthouse and was in front of the Tribunal, not back in the hall but a new room.

  “Why did you do that?” the elven leader asked.

  Aila remembered that she was in a trial.

  “With me raising it to judges who are outside of the city, they will have a much harder time to bribe or interest them. They will be truly neutral. Using the investigation, the judges and people on Duncan’s payroll would only be able to cover up some of his activities. It would allow us to look into his doings much closer than before. With the increased pressure, something was sure to go. I could get the judiciary to bring in their own lawyers and get the guards to do their jobs. If I just pressed ahead, then I would only get him for a murder that could be overturned,” Aila said.

  “This trial was to test if you would follow the letter of the law,” the dwarf said.

  “The law is a tool, one that you used well, to gain a better position for this trial,” the hobgoblin said with approval. The others seemed to agree.

  Aila was nervous as the scene changed around her.

  She had been fighting against the Drafeng for years.

  “We need to run!” a captain yelled. “They broke through the north wall!”

  “What about the people?”

  “They can fend for themselves!” the guard yelled, eyes wide, and ran away.

  She knew that the battle was lost, but there were people within the city already. Her fellow guards were dead or fleeing. She was young; she had her whole life ahead of her. Running away would be so easy.

  If I take a step forward, I’ll die.

  She looked at that symbol on her chest, the emblem of a Guardian. She was weak, so weak now.

  She sent power into the building around her. It came apart, forming three golems.

  She saw beams hitting the walls of the city. Chaotic rounds slammed into buildings, exploding and sending rubble everywhere.

  Aila raised her hand as a round hit a building close to her. She was thrown off her feet and stone chips cut her hand and her face. She landed, wincing from the impact. More rounds landed all around her.

  She forced herself back up and toward the wall.

  Come on, Aila. Come on! Just get to the wall.

  She took that fear and she owned it, focusing on just getting to the wall.

  There were stumbles and scrapes.

  A section of the wall exploded. A golem moved in front of her, protecting her.

  She ran forward and made it to a set of stairs and ran up it.

  Catapults hurled stones, rubble, wood, magical enchanted rounds; anything that they could launch and would hurt the Drafeng, they launched. The wood of the catapults groaned as they released their payloads.

  People were still on the wall. Dead bodies lay here and there; people cried out in pain as others tried to help them. More were hiding behind the walls, pale with fright as they held their weapons.

  Aila stayed low as the attacks started to fade away.

  “They’re coming!” someone yelled. People along the walls stood and Aila raised her head to look over the wall.

  She saw the lines of Drafeng, their chaotic beasts leading the charge. The commanders stayed in the rear, recovering next to their mobile towers.

  The defending catapults never stopped firing. Their attacks landed in the midst of the rushing army, tearing through their ranks.

  “Man the defenses!” one yelled out as people gaped at the oncoming enemy.

  Ballistas were reloaded and fired. Aila reduced the size of her golems to human size, forming nine in total. She attached souls to ballistas, the golems reloading as the ballistas fired themselves.

  Aila was panting from spending so much mana as she grabbed a bow. Just like hunting in the mountains.

  She drew back the bow, using her Far Sight, and released. The arrow flew true. She didn’t watch it; she didn’t have time as she drew and released, changing her targets continuously.

  The defenders were doing everything they could to thin the enemy. Chaotic beasts got into range, releasing a barrage of chaotic beams that struck that wall, leaving scars in it. If they hit a person, they would be thrown backward. At extreme range, they weren’t deadly but they could seriously harm.

  Aila focused on what she was doing, just repeating the same motions again and again as her soul-attached creatures worked tirelessly.

  The army made it to the wall. It was holed and broken in places. Ragtag groups of soldiers stood in the breaches.

  Gnome weapons fired. Goblin squads threw out grenades and other explosives, killing tens. Familiars supported from the rear, using ranged attacks; their human masters fed them power, their familiar sigils blazing. Elves used their bows and formed magic runes in the air, trying to thin the enemies numbers. Beast kin hacked at the chaotic beasts climbing the walls and fired their own bows or hurled spears, their bodies glowing with clan tattoos. Dwarves were covered in clouds of smoke as they fired their firearms and mortars. They were fighting together.

  Standing with them, Aila saw a united Dena, a Dena that didn’t care about internal conflicts.

  A dwarf saved a beast kin’s life and a human defended an elven mage casting a spell.

  Aila let out a yell; she drew her blades as a chaotic beast appeared on the wall. She slashed at their face and plunged her blade into their neck.

  They swiped at her, but she dropped and pushed her feet against the battlements, sliding backward. She spun her legs, getting to her feet. The beast she attacked had fallen off the wall, but there were others.

  She felt power returning to her as a ballista was smashed apart.

  She grabbed a spear on the side and threw it. The golem manning the ballista grabbed it and stabbed it into the beast that had destroyed the ballista.

  “We’re getting overrun!” one of the dwarves called out, panicked.

  “There isn’t anywhere to pull back to,” Aila replied.

  The panic that had been ignited chilled.

  “For Dena! For the people!” someone yelled out.

  “For Dena!” others yelled. It was an admission. They were going to their deaths, but they knew why.

  “It’s a good day to live!” the beast kin yelled.

  “Hold nothing back! Fight with all you have!” Aila yelled as she drew on the power within her body. Pushing past her limits, she directed it into a breach.

  The ground shifted and came together. Small, legless creatures—only as high as a human’s knee�
��with blades for hands appeared.

  They slashed out at the chaotic beasts, cutting them as they tried to enter the city.

  Aila was sweating; she felt as if she had aged ten years. She stumbled backward. She gritted her teeth as she fought beside the golems on the wall. The chaotic beasts were climbing up across the wall.

  It only slowed them; it didn’t stop them.

  People cried out as they lost their fights.

  Aila released curses. The dark magic landed on the beasts, making them blind and deaf, shoving them off the wall to fight in among the other beasts.

  “Drafeng!” some called out.

  Aila looked over the wall, seeing the grouped Drafeng. Two massive arms were on their back. They hurled spears or simply fired beams of chaotic power, targeting the areas the chaotic beasts were having trouble.

  “They’re going ranged!” she yelled, turning her head to the side. She turned back as a spear hit her in the chest and slammed her into the opposing battlement. She felt that cold chaotic power of the weapon feeding off her power, pinning her to the wall behind.

  She cried out, seeing her life—the people she would never see again, the regrets of things left undone or risks she had avoided and wished she’d taken.

  Power flowed through her veins, more pure and powerful than anything she had ever experienced before. Her eyes turned completely black as a smoke appeared around her hands.

  She slammed them down into the wall. More of the slashing mushroom-like creatures appeared across the wall, attacking the chaotic beasts.

  Several golem knights rose from the rubble and dirt, grabbing weapons or forming their bodies into them. They let out a yell, charging forward to meet the chaotic beasts and Drafeng.

  I did my duty. Just a bit longer.

  She looked at the fighting, the world losing sound as it was filled with color. People charged into the fight, using everything they had. Blood was spilled and death filled the air. Their doom was coming; they knew that there was no escape but the cold embrace of the afterlife.

  Many will not know what happened here—another battle, another fight that will fade with time. We will know and we will know that if there are those who look upon this fight, then we did our duty and won in the end.

  Aila felt stunning clarity as the battlefield faded away.