CHAPTER 72 – THE SERENGETI RESCUE
The Seraphin Ravine did not look like much from the outside. But there was a tiny dip in the ground. Somehow, the forefathers of Axion, Mitakahn, and Theomitus built a refuge, blending in completely with the mountainside, and leveling out the terrain. Upon following the dead-end crack of land, they found a door hidden in the brush.
“We are here,” announced Anilithyìstad.
Inside, it was a massive cluster of caverns with columns and rafters haphazardly preventing the walls from ever caving in. There were no private rooms. Just different areas and bulges within one giant cavern, an intricate campsite.
Jericho waited outside of the ravine with the cavalry while Anilithyìstad and Mortikahn went in. Jericho was working on dual accounts of surveillance: the primary being security against darksiders. The Dragon Army was going to roll over the Pride soon, and even the Seraphin Ravine would feel the effects. And the supplemental objective of surveillance was finding the reinforcements from Metuchen. He waited impatiently along with most of the Royal Cavalry, while Anilithyìstad and Mortikahn took more than enough time getting the refugees ready for mobilization.
This rescue mission was taking too long. Attack was inevitable. Jericho, standing on his stern horse, wielding a long spear and shield, kept a devoted focus on his surroundings when there was a sudden howl from the distance. The line of riders quickly turned around towards the mountains; nothing, no sounds or giveaways. Another howl rang out from the north. The group once again shifted at the alert and scanned for enemies. But there was nothing in the thickening darkness.
“Be ready,” Jericho said calmly.
And he was right, for suddenly a wave of wolf-harnessed riders came from all sides. The line of Royal Cavalry was immediately flanked and compromised. Jericho hurled his spear into a rider trying to breach the ravine. It brought the dark rider to the ground, but the Berserker remained alive, clawing at the front door. Jericho rode up to the doors and without an inch of fear, decapitated the distracted wolf.
“RETREAT!” called out Jericho as he led his men into the caverns.
Unfortunately, by doing so, he revealed the entrance to the enemy, making it impossible to keep the riders out of the ravine. But better they funnel the attack through the doorways, saving some of their numbers. They poured in along with the fleeing guard, like water breaking through a dam.
Before Anilithyìstad could even react, he watched his men get devoured all around him. Life or death battle ensued. Anilithyìstad chopped down three riders when he lost his sword, but that didn’t stop him. He jumped onto another one. The acolytes dismounted the Berserkers and tackled Anilithyìstad to the floor. Their defenses were completely swept. Anilithyìstad had no choice but to surrender.
‘How did this happen?’ he thought to himself.
The acolyte that approached him was missing an eye and had very dark scaly skin with patches of boils and blisters all over. The eyebrow over his missing eye was bulging out and over his eye socket like a tumor. His eye patch was a small black crescent with the icon of a burnt sapphire dragon on it. He was now very close to Anilithyìstad, smiling in his face with his rotten breath and crooked teeth. But above all of this, brave Anilithyìstad was focused on the demon-soldier’s eye. A blood red pupil with a pale yellow slit in its center, like that of a snake’s. The monstrous sight curdled Anilithyìstad’s stomach.
All the while, Jericho racked his mind. There was no possible way for them to get out of this without the civilians dying. He looked at all of their frightened faces staring back at him. He had to do something. Jericho looked to his uncle, who was still in a staring match with what seemed to be the commander of the enemy squadron.
The commander pulled out a dagger from his back and tried to put it around Anilithyìstad’s throat. Anilithyìstad did not fail to put up a fight. The two began wrestling while all the other dark soldiers jabbed at their hostages and screamed for Anilithyìstad’s cooperation.
One of the acolytes cut the life out of its hostage.
At the sight of a helpless villager getting mercilessly killed, Anilithyìstad gave himself up, and ceased his futile attempt to escape, dropping to his knees. His eyes met the lifeless body on the floor. He was overcome with grief and despair.
He had failed: failed Axion, failed his sons, failed his entire family, and failed his sister the queen. All he could look at now was relief in death. But even that seemed bleak. For the sheer thought of confronting Theomitus in the Afterlight and bearing the news of failure squashed any hope of a sweet release. He looked up at the eye-patched commander preparing to swing his kill-stroke and was practically blinded.
A massive flash of lightning sparked inside the Seraphin Ravine up above the commander with the eye patch. All the air in the cavern was instantly gone. A hole was torn through the fabric of space and time.
Out from that miraculous tear stepped Mitakahn.
Behind him the future sealed the portal from the outside. Everyone in the Seraphin Ravine was brought to the floor as they suffocated. The flux of energy between dimensions left this side of the universe emptied. This underground base became a barren void. Mitakahn looked down at his preoccupied audience. Had they not just realized what happened? Did they not take witness to one of the most miraculous moments in the history of man? Then he remembered… they needed air.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The light from his radiant birth shined onto them with a healing sensation. In a wave of relief, the shade of light poured over them as it twisted into the air and the winds rushed back. The dragon soldiers got back to their feet, but before they could retrieve their weapons they were all blown to shreds by individual fiery white blasts bursting forth from inside each one of them. Their guts and entrails sprinkled the floor effortlessly.
Anilithyìstad stood up in awe at this most surprising of sights. Mitakahn looked at them with a strain, as if he had either never seen them before or was trying to remember them. He was different…. unhinged. He looked like he had aged fifty years but remained youthful. His hair was pure white, along with his beard, and blown back, like he was surging with static electricity. Even his eyes had thin sky blue rings in them, making him look like he was from a different world entirely, a world amongst the gods.
He floated down to the floor with his hands out, open-palmed.
Anilithyìstad cautiously approached him, and said, “Is that you, nephew?”
“I come here to have a conversation,” proclaimed Mitakahn in a monotonous tone, not acting at all like himself.
“A conversation?”
“For the sake of all mankind.”
Anilithyìstad had no idea what to think of this. He only had one question on his mind since the battle of Port Caliber, and that was, “Have you found help?”
“I am not here to help you,” informed Mitakahn.
“Then why are you here?”
Mitakahn looked down on his uncle. Anilithyìstad looked back at a shining beacon of cosmic light floating within the Ravine. He held his hands out and a red spirit beckoned out from his chest for them all to hear, “…The Will of the Gods.”
“Mitakahn…” Anilithyìstad begged as his worrisome face took hold, “what has happened to you?”
“Where is Agmaritha?”
“Who? You are not making any sense.”
“I must talk to my aunt.”
Anilithyìstad was rendered speechless. He had no idea who Mitakahn was talking about. He had no idea if Mitakahn was even Mitakahn. His once close nephew now seemed different, distant, like oceans of time had pulled them apart. A stranger from a strange world stood before him, in the form of young prince Mitakahn. Anilithyìstad felt the presence of a god and took notice. It would take a long time for Anilithyìstad to put it together himself, but he would say it to the prince long before anyone else. He knew Mitakahn was destined for greatness. And this event seemed to be a window of proof for Anilithyìstad to confirm his convictions.
Suddenly from a crowd of random villagers came a rusted voice, “I… am Agmaritha.”
What looked like a covered old lady was really a middle-aged woman with astonishingly similar physical characteristics to Theomitus. Mitakahn glided over to her. He towered over everyone else, including Anilithyìstad. For the first time in his life, Anilithyìstad felt like he was standing in the shadow of his nephew. It looked like a soft glow was emitting from him. What happened to him? Anilithyìstad just watched as Mitakahn knelt down before Agmaritha and said, “I’ve missed you.”
They held each other’s hands and walked away in private council. The suspense was relieved from the atmosphere. Jericho and Mortikahn met with Anilithyìstad, each saying respectfully, “We need to evacuate now.”
“What’s happened to Mitakahn?”
“I don’t know,” answered Anilithyìstad, “but he is not our Mitakahn. Get the people ready, we’re moving out.”
Crack!
Agmaritha came back over to Anilithyìstad to tell him that Mitakahn was gone. He had left and when Anilithyìstad asked where Agmaritha simply responded, “Back to his time.”
“Stick close to me,” addressed Anilithyìstad, “you hold valuable intelligence. We must make it back to Zepathorum.”
“I cannot go back there.” She jumped.
“We don’t have time to discuss this. Please” Anilithyìstad begged, “for your country’s sake.”
Agmaritha conceded to Anilithyìstad’s request and fled the Seraphin Ravine on Anilithyìstad’s horse along with the rest of the guard and the refugees. When they got outside another squadron of dark wolf-riders were bearing down on the ravine.
“GO!” yelled Anilithyìstad at the top of his lungs, as he unlatched his long spear and charged the flanking line of berserkers.
Jericho and the Royal Cavalry rallied behind Anilithyìstad and met the enemy head to head, while Mortikahn guided the simple townsfolk to safety. It was a tenacious effort. Mortikahn, like the shepherd of a flock, protected his people, as his family and comrades waged war around him. The attackers did not come for battle but for slaughter. They ignored the fight and attempted to kill the innocent fleeing citizens.
Jericho galloped along with several berserkers. He got in between two of them; pulled knives from his vest and threw them into the throats of the riders. They hit the floor dead, and the berserkers ran away mindlessly. Jericho followed them as he pulled out his bow and loaded an arrow.
Anilithyìstad gave the reins to Agmaritha as he used a sword and spear to go head to head with the dark riders. The wave of riders seemed to feed on the surrounding darkness. And no matter how many warriors or wolves were put down, the attack did not stop. It would be near impossible to get back to Zepathorum at this rate. They needed a miracle, and it had already left.