CHAPTER 75 – TIDES OF METUCHEN


    Axion sat in the throne and took account of what rule would be like for him. It looked horrifying: thick, impenetrable darkness in the west, fire and shadow covering half of his nation and only growing. He had been keeping Caliber at his back, looking to the south. He could not bear the sight of it. The death toll of his kinsmen was increasingly rising. Axion could not breathe. He was on the brink of a meltdown. He jumped up in revulsion and decided to inspect every specific location individually.


    First…foremost, he had to confront it. Caliber was darker than ever. But from the south he could see a thin red line in the far horizon. A warm caress brushed his heart. He could see that there were still sunrises in other lands. Perhaps there was still hope for Anilithyìstad, Euphrati, and Mitakahn; but he saved none for himself.


    In a flash of thought, he remembered his orders for the boats, and looked out over the lake to confirm if they proceeded with his orders. The boats were, in fact, well on their way to the southern edges of the lake. Over the surrounding lands of ridges and fields between cities and towns was the slow exodus of all the small towns Anilithyìstad and company had passed through. Axion brought his attention to the patch of fields between Zepathorum and Port Caliber. He looked for any sign of mobilization.


    In haunting fashion, they had never seen the dark riders circumvent the capital city. Only reports from royal scouts informed them of the Serengeti getting overrun. The darkness was surrounding them. Soon there would be no way out. That was why Axion could only hold the course. He was going to be the one who spots the very second the enemy crests the hills.


    At first sign, Axion then would light and fire the first arrow, giving his mother warning. Axion detached a mirror and turned sunlight on the city by the bay. He ran back inside, opened the shelf to a desk along the wall, and pulled out a telescope. He brought it over to the mirror of sunlight and attached them, snapping it together, and then probed the outskirts of Port Caliber.


    It was then that he saw troops gathering into battle formations. They were already out of the city! Flames and smoke blocked his view with the telescope. It was coming from the burning flesh of the dragon soldiers, who were deathly allergic to sunlight. They were marching ahead of their darkstorm clouds. These unholy wretches were relentless, even on themselves. It was truly grotesque to witness. What horrors awaited them?


    Axion quickly ran into the Throne Room. The time had come to give Queen Adyána the first warning. Axion tore a piece of cloth covering a table not knowing that it was one of the original tapestries of the founder of his house and wrapped it tightly around the head of one of his arrows. He lit a vase of oil on fire, cocked the arrow halfway back, lit the end, pulled it back fully, and shot it out into the sky over the courtyard circle. The flame burned all the way down during its fall to the surface of Lake Niobi where it went out.


    The only problem was, and Axion could see it now, why they risked marching their force without the dark cloud, the natural weather of the day was overcast. It was as if the darkness took a hold of nature itself in the north, darkening the day. The sunlight was once again gone, and Axion felt more vulnerable than ever. It was too close for comfort, and for Axion there was no need to wait any longer.


    He fired two more flares into the air. Thankfully, the rest of the people outside the walls had just finished getting inside, and it took no time to seal the gates of Zepathorum and begin barricading the city. With the rescue team soon returning via boat over the lake, they did not have to keep the gates open for them. Now all Axion had to do was wait to see Anilithyìstad and Mercinestor return from their missions, re-crossing the lake to shoot up his third and final warning arrow. After that, Axion could leave the Throne Room and return to his spot on the city walls.


    Anilithyìstad felt like he was back on his knees inside the ravine. He was going to fail again, that he was certain. He could barely believe Mitakahn’s visit, let alone explain it. There would be no telling if he was to come back. The entire ordeal was strange and unreliable. Did Mitakahn even know he saved them? Anilithyìstad looked forward to Agmaritha’s retelling of her conversation with Mitakahn. At Anilithyìstad’s wits-end, a green torch broke into the atmosphere, revealing a warrior on horseback suited with the same brown leather tunics of the Steed Kingdom’s Royal Knights.


    The man holding the burning green torch was Paxikahn, the younger brother of Anilithyìstad and Adyána, uncle of Axion, Jericho, Mitakahn, Anilithion, and Mortikahn. He pulled out his longbow, loaded the torch, fired it into the air just above him, then quickly loaded an arrow and shot the torch. The green fire exploded into billions of tiny flames. The light temporarily stunned the dark riders and the Berserkers. The light also showed Anilithyìstad the company his brother, Paxikahn, was riding in with.


    The relief from Metuchen was finally here, and truly a glorious sight to see. More than five thousand knights were gathered. What a grand gesture. That meant five thousand more spears, five thousand more swords, and five thousand more horses. King Avalahn of the Steed Kingdom, and maternal grandfather of Axion and Mitakahn, knew the Lion Kingdom needed everything they could muster.


    The Serengeti Rescue was once again on its way. The Royal Cavalry had only about ten riders left, including Anilithyìstad, Jericho, and Mortikahn, but the Metuchen battalions brought their numbers back, defeated the assaulting wave, and together with the civilians, systematically made haste north.


    It was now a great escape to Zepathorum. Knights of the Metuchen battalions were picking up women and children and giving them a ride on their horses. In a harmonious rush the two kingdoms collided in collaboration and narrowly escaped the dark riders. Jericho brought up the rear and could see Paxikahn riding out ahead of the herd to scout. Anilithyìstad rode in the front, leading the exodus, and Mortikahn was on the other side watching the flanks. They were making their way back in good time, and most of all… the path was smooth without confrontation. But in order to get to Zepathorum, they had to go near the nucleus of the darkness…Port Caliber.


    Anilithyìstad was absolutely thrilled about his brother’s arrival. Prince Paxikahn was much younger than his siblings and almost closer in age to Axion and the generation of the grandson princes. The prince brought a great deal of Metuchen’s fiercest knights and for that Anilithyìstad was so very thankful.


    Another howl was heard in the distant night followed by a war cry and the clashing of metal. Over the ridge, Paxikahn and a couple of knights were caught in a scuffle with more dark riders. Luckily, there were no Berserkers. All of the attacking riders were now on horseback. Jericho watched on as Anilithyìstad approached the hill. But before anyone could see whether or not Paxikahn and his men had made quick work of the riders, ravenous wolves came out of the shadow, flanking Jericho’s side.


    The Berserkers charged into the unsuspecting knights and civilians, and immediately broke their lines. The evil beasts were pinning down their victims and leaving them paralyzed with their bites as they tore through the soldiers guarding the women and children. Jericho kicked his horse towards them and yelled out his war cry, grabbing the attention of Mortikahn and Anilithyìstad.


    With only a couple of moments alone after he engaged the Berserkers, Jericho fished through his quiver and pulled out a clip of ten arrows with silver tips. He snapped the clip of silver arrows onto his bow, loaded one of them, and just when he fired his first arrow, Mortikahn crashed into the fight. The arrow went straight through the back of one wolf’s head, as Mortikahn slit the throat of another.


    Jericho’s sword, holstered on his back, began to tremor, and glow. In the heat of battle, there was no time for insecurities or vulnerabilities and thus no opportunity for the Berserkers to use their best weapon…fear, making them practically mortal.


    Jericho and Mortikahn made quick work of these legendary demons like true champions. After surviving the horrors of Port Caliber, the knights were unaffected by their fear mongering. Many of the wolves fled. Four stayed behind, and they were all circling Jericho. Mortikahn was briefly distracted by the capture of one last fleeing wolf. Jericho loaded his bow with two silver arrows and prayed for his life.


    His prayers were answered by the war cries of his two uncles. As Jericho released his last arrow it sailed through the air aimed at the head of the wolf across from him, Anilithyìstad and Paxikahn attacked from both sides of Jericho. Together they rid the world of two more demons, wiping them out. Anilithyìstad knew there were more still out there. But they had no choice. The mission must carry on. Zepathorum was not far now. He could see the tips of the towers. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Jericho could see water on his right. They were already at Lake Niobi. The small town citizens who they first passed on the way to the ravine were frantically awaiting their return after leading them into the city.


    “Look, torches!” yelled out a boy.


    Once closer, Anilithyìstad could see that there were more than a hundred boats waiting for them by the shore. Civilians boarded onto the ships.


    The Steed Kingdom knights took the long way round and ran their horses practically to death getting around the lake before the shadow finally caught up with them. They crossed the east edge of the lake, for they knew by now that the way west would be blocked and the gates at the north would be closed around the city, and their only way in would be the beaches of Lake Niobi.


    The eastern walls of the city ended at the beach, but unbeknownst to strangers of the Pride, there is a sandbank in the lake that threads around the wall to the inside of the courtyard. The same path Anilithyìstad took when he met Mitakahn on the beach before the King’s death. He led the knights across the treacherous path with Paxikahn as Jericho and Mortikahn had gone with the civilians over the lake.


    Axion noticed them paddling across from the balcony of the Throne room. He shot his last flare of three flaming arrows to inform his mother of their return. Axion ran into the armory and re-geared himself for battle, shoving arrows into his almost empty quiver. He was not planning on coming back up here, in fact, Axion feared he might never return to this balcony.


    There it was.


    The hard truth, Axion expected all of this to fail. The barricades, the refuge, the stronghold, the reinforcements, everything had a grave outcome including his brother’s unknown fate. Where was he? Axion did not want to become king because he did not want to be known as the worst king of all time, the last king of all time. He did not believe in himself to survive the battle, let alone lead his people to victory.


    Axion kept telling himself Theomitus was meant to be king because he always played the part. For Axion’s entire life that’s all he knew. Now a new era of his life was forced into his hands, and he wanted no part of it. He turned around to leave the Throne Room and heard a whisper. Axion turned back to face the throne and saw a passing phantom. It was only there for a moment, but what lingered was a ring of fire above it. A ring of fire that looked… like the crimson crown. Huntross yelped and got Axion’s attention back. They rode down the spiral staircase to meet with everyone at the courtyard. This was it. War was finally upon them.


    Anilithyìstad had already arrived at the circle and met with his sister. Queen Adyána, since Axion went up the tower, had gotten the old men and women not recruited into the national guard to barricade the city blocks, fortifying the courtyard. When Anilithyìstad got there with the five thousand reinforcements along with her brother Paxikahn, Adyána was too overjoyed to proceed in defense tactics.


    Luckily for her, Commander Adora had just returned from the field, confirming the city defenses were in place, the gates were secure, and all innocent folk who could not defend themselves and refugees made for the Citadel. The Commander dispersed the five thousand Metuchen reinforcements throughout the city, promoting her royal guard to field lieutenants, each taking a battalion to defend a different part of the capital, from the beaches of the lake to the walls and gatehouse and all that was in between.


    She was confident her men knew the city better than anyone. Cel’a also sent a regiment of wounded soldiers who still wanted to help into the Citadel tower to scout and send flares like Axion before. This was her city. The Commander took great pride in her knowledge and protection of Zepathorum. She was a shining example of the heart of the Lion Kingdom, the spirit of the Pride.


    Anilithyìstad pulled up before his sister, the Queen, with their brother, Paxikahn, right beside him. She was standing at the Theomitus Lion Memorial Statue, the same statue that was donated to the royal family the morning of the funeral. The brother-princes of the Steed Kingdom came in with prideful struts in their behooved steps. Adyána was no longer scared.


    Jericho and Mortikahn greeted their aunt with a simultaneous hug, having already dismounted. Paxikahn followed behind them and greeted his sister with a long overdue embrace. Paxikahn was born when Adyána was practically an adult and a queen of another kingdom. Yet, their love for each other was endless. Adyána spent an abundance of time with her youngest brother. Even when she was raising children of her own, she made time for Paxikahn.


    Theomitus’ death affected many people in different ways, but for Paxikahn it felt like he had lost an older brother. Since then, the hole in his sister’s heart made Paxikahn uneasy, but his overwhelming urge to protect her endured. And that is why he was here before her, holding his broken sister in his everlasting arms.


    Anilithyìstad meanwhile, was helping Agmaritha down off of his horse. She walked over to the statue as Anilithyìstad was welcomed back by Adyána. The lost daughter of Zepathorum made her quiet homecoming, only noticed by Cel’a.


    “I don’t believe it.”


    It had been a long time since Agmaritha saw her brother. And now, all she could see of him was a metal statue of a lion and his stone-carved name. She cried at the sight of it. Behind her Anilithyìstad was telling the queen about her late husband’s sibling. Adyána was escorted over to Agmaritha by Anilithyìstad when she discovered that the poor woman was crying.


    Adyána could not imagine for what reason a sister could not see her brother on his deathbed, the king, in his own kingdom. What secret could have kept her away all these years? Did she even know of Axion and Mitakahn? The Queen thought to herself as she consoled Agmaritha beside the statue. Before any words could be exchanged, Axion had arrived, still on Huntross. At last, the family was together. Agmaritha looked up at the towering prince. Adyána said aloud, “Axion, this is your aunt Agmaritha, your father’s oldest sister.”


    “You look just like him…” murmured Agmaritha, “you look like the king.”


    She knelt down before him and when Axion went to stop her, Anilithyìstad and Adyána knelt down as well, followed by Jericho and Mortikahn, and like a ripple…everyone out in the courtyard bowed down. Axion was deeply moved. He could tell it was his father’s sister by her eyes and her voice. And her words felt like nutrients essential to the warmth of his soul, curing his suffering.


    He looked around at his world, and he knew what he had to do. One bottom line that always won over the balance… Axion had to honor his father. And right now, that meant becoming king and leading his people to safety and victory. No matter how many valid reasons he could think of to resist, including the basic fear of dying or worse…failing, Axion knew this was the right thing to do.


    He looked over at Anilithyìstad who stood up and approached Huntross. He spoke up to Axion, “It is time to embrace your destiny, nephew. You were born for this day. Bid me to recover the crown…”


    Axion listened to his uncle’s words while he peered into the faces of his people, each and every one of them were tired and worried, but over all of it, their eyes held on him with regard, they showed Axion that hope could shine through the worst of fears.


    He opened his mouth to accept. But before he could finish, a part of the city exploded. Massive craters were being catapulted through the air and raining down onto the city. Anilithyìstad immediately sprang into action. He ordered Paxikahn and Jericho to go to the gatehouse with the reinforcements to see what damage had been done.


    An entire host of infantry, siege weapons, and assorted cavalry were outside the walls of Zepathorum. Golden catapults and trebuchets launched boulders into the city.


    Commander Cel’a escorted Queen Adyána and Agmaritha safely inside the Citadel with the refugees before joining the fight. Axion and Anilithyìstad, along with Mortikahn, set up a fortified headquarters within the circle in front of the Citadel’s main doors.


    This last stand could go on for days, but no matter how long it took, they could not give up. They had three levels of protection: the city’s outer gate, the neighborhoods of the city, and the courtyard. There would be no breaks before the end. Each level was set up with a barricade and regiment.


    As each level of security was compromised the soldiers would fall back to the inner level until they were ultimately before the Citadel. This is how the city was built. Axion handpicked a team of guards, recruits, and reinforcements to hold down the Citadel’s circle. Anilithyìstad appointed dispatchers between the levels to coordinate with Cel’a’s lieutenants and scouts in the field and the tower.


    Their only hope was to outlast them, outlive the shadow.


    Surviving meant killing more than they were killed.


    Where were the Casterosi?


    The reinforcements from Metuchen were enough to keep them from total annihilation, but without the banners of the Pride being raised, odds were ultimately against them. The last battle for the Lion Kingdom had just begun and everyone was as ready as they could be for it. Ready to face the reality that the next time day breaks in the north, the Lion Kingdom might no longer exist.