<h2>CHAPTER 87 – DWINDLING ODDS</h2>


    Jericho followed Mortikahn, as they rode their horses through the shadowed streets of the east side. They were well off the beaten path and trying to make their way back. To Mortikahn, they had gotten a well-deserved break from the warfare. To Jericho, that was at the expense of their fellow soldiers’ lives. A fact which made Jericho sick. He charged off past Mortikahn. Mortikahn watched his cousin blow by him and quickly made haste after him. The two warrior princes from the Stallion Kingdom raced for vengeance and bloodshed.


    When they jumped out onto a disassembled crossroads, they found the city full of raging warfare. The fires and bloodshed lit up the battleground, Jericho and Mortikahn slid down the ruined building and into the street. There was no front in this battle, just four corners of riots and duels.


    Jericho and Mortikahn did not head for the center first, but swept around, attempting to flank enemy forces. When they clashed with darksider battalions they were thrown back. That was when Jericho recognized he was dealing with no ordinary field captain, this was someone important.


    It most certainly was. The Dark Lord’s Admiral commanded the legions before them. Mortikahn was unaware of who Admiral Zorrowfold was and led his ranks in on a charge. Before Jericho could stop him, Zorrowfold met the charge and repelled the men from their horses, with a line of long spearmen. Mortikahn was blown back to the floor. His horse fell over on top of him, pinning him down.


    Jericho reformed the lines and tried to get a jump on Admiral Zorrowfold. He maneuvered his men around but was caught by the darksiders. The admiral had eyes in the back of his head; it was like he could be in several places at once. When Jericho looked back for Mortikahn and found that he was being crushed by his own horse, Zorrowfold charged at the last of the city’s cavalry. But the conniving admiral was blindsided by another front. Led by Axion, a rogue militia collided with Zorrowfold and his troops.


    Jericho was given the time to get back to Mortikahn. He tied his reins around Mortikahn’s horse and pushed it up as his own horse pulled it up. The horse was dead, but Mortikahn could walk, and got himself back up. He knelt down beside his dead steed’s head and rubbed its mane. Amongst all this chaos, Jericho looked upon the calmest of sights…A boy saying goodbye to his loyal steed.


    Jericho helped Mortikahn up as they tried to chase after the admiral, who was making his way up the middle of Crimson Boulevard, for the bridge that led over to the Citadel courtyard. But it was Prince Axion, who met arms against him, and pushed ahead for the bridge. Axion motioned over his flanking troops. They caught the sides of the rioting. Axion did not go any further into the fray, but bounced against it and sent his men out for the bridge.


    It was there that they could hold them, confine them to a small passageway, evening the odds. But for right now, many of his soldiers were giving their lives to this strategy. Axion fought side by side with them. He tried to save as many as he could. But the fronts were growing unchecked around them. He knew they could not keep this up for long. None of his strategies were solving any problems, merely a temporary deferral, over and over again, until now he found himself ready to give up the city just to save the Citadel. He cut down a Necrogallion in front of him and saw the admiral behind the fallen foe.


    “You!” Axion said out loud.


    Axion had some idea of who Zorrowfold was just by his military rankings brandished across his jacket. He knew this was a champion amongst the shadow kingdom of the underworld and that was enough for him. He struck a lane down into the center of the crossroads, where Zorrowfold was pushing through. Axion held up his sword and challenged the admiral, while the rest of his men ran across the bridge and joined forces with the last of the city’s guard.


    “Who are you to attack my lands? As sovereign of the north, I bid you to identify yourself!”


    The admiral killed one of the royal guardsmen still fighting in plain view of Axion. The prince tried not to squirm at the sight of it. The admiral threw the body away and then regarded the prince.


    “My name is Intrepides Zorrowfold, and I am Admiral to the Dark Lord’s army.”


    “Who is this Dark Lord you fight for?”


    “We fight in the name of the last dragon. The exhalted one. The emperor of the south and soon to be all MagnaThora.”


    “Give me a name.”


    “You dare make demands of the Dark Lord, puny lion?”


    “I have a right to know the banners that plague my kingdom.”


    “We are the dragon reckoning. We do not abide by the laws of the North, foolish boy.”


    “I will get it out of you. If the easy way won’t work, we will just have to try the hard way.”


    “You will get nothing from me besides a swift death.”


    Axion looked around. His remaining troops had finished retreating into the courtyard. He turned back and grinned at Admiral Zorrowfold. He kicked Huntross and turned him around to make for the bridge. Zorrowfold forgot what he was doing and called for a Berserker. He told his guard to finish off this crossroads skirmish and then meet him at the Citadel courtyard…


    “…For there I go to end this once and for all.”


    He followed after Axion, and they raced for the bridge. After he rode across it, Axion turned to one of his men and told him to destroy it. Zorrowfold jumped the bridge right before it collapsed into the moat. He slaughtered the men left to burn the bridge and kept pursuit after Axion.


    Axion climbed through the hedge-maze and got back to the front of the courtyard, their headquarters. Anilithyìstad was absent. Galastad was doing what he could without him or Commander Cel’a. The soldiers were all fighting around the giant circle aimlessly. Together, they stood one hundred-some soldiers left to fight and die for the courtyard and salvation of an entire race. Commander Adora was still unconscious inside the Citadel with the queen and the civilians. They had no organization or front. It was pure chaos.


    Admiral Zorrowfold merged with the ranks of darksiders who broke through all the lines. It was perfect timing. He stood before his endless horde. Axion stood with his men and rallied them together. They recognized the return of their leader, and their hearts lifted.


    As Mortikahn got up and brushed himself off, Jericho was distracted by the darksider movement. Admiral Zorrowfold pushed the front down Crimson Boulevard. When Jericho looked down the road he saw the Citadel in the distance. Just then, along the march of legions, amongst them stood a darksider only familiar to Jericho.


    He approached the strange figure to investigate. Something was not right about this, and he had to find out what. Jericho got close enough to see the scarred and corrupted face. A face once filled with youth and virtue was now tainted and rotted to the core. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Denison, the same boy who had saved Jericho at Port Caliber, was now foaming at the mouth, and covered in sickening blisters and tumors. His childlike body was forced into sporadic growth, gross maturity, his bones and muscles were stretched. He no longer looked human. The scar tissue turned his eyes into black slits and pulled back his lips. As he marched along with the rest of the horde, towards the Citadel, The rancid boy stopped, turned to face them, and then slowly walked towards Jericho.


    He was horrified at what this young boy had become. It was no longer a “he”. And it thirsted for Jericho’s blood now. Was this the fate that cruel destiny had in store for him? How could such a young and innocent boy fall victim to intolerable evil. He was a prisoner vessel for the darkness.


    Jericho turned back to inform his cousin of the current climate of their fate when they were both distracted by the winged creature dodging buildings behind Mortikahn, and… heading right for them. The two cousins looked at each other, eye to eye, at the approaching evil. Before Jericho could give Mortikahn any aid, Denison tackled him to the floor. Jericho kicked him off and jumped back to his feet. Denison ran towards him and sliced forth with his scimitars. Jericho kicked a sword up from the ground and caught it with his empty hand. They now were dueling back and forth with four swords between them.


    Clank! Clank!


    Jericho bounced off the scimitars, turned around low, swung his left one and converged with Denison’s block, as he came up around with his right one, and was caught by another one of Denison’s block. Clank! Clank! The moves were fluent, static free. Jericho danced around him, unable to bring himself to perform a kill stroke.


    Clank! Clank!


    Two more times around in spin, and Jericho was face to face with him again. He brought both swords down on top of Denison’s head but was caught by his crossing scimitars. Jericho pulled one off, and swung down at his chest, but was parried away. He stepped back and jumped over Denison. They exchanged blows while Jericho flipped over him to the other side. Jericho landed and parried two strikes from Denison. He cleared the middle with his sword and swung them back around. The first one he lunged for Denison’s heart and the second one he held back for his head. When his first sword was parried Jericho sent the other in, but Denison parried that one too.


    Again, he tried the same thing, but in different positions. Clank! Clank! They bounced right off. He tried one more time, but after bouncing off his scimitars once again, Jericho got a kick off, into Denison’s chest. Denison was blown back some but re-gathered and charged.


    They connected again, Jericho tried another kick, and Denison countered with a punch from a fist holding his scimitar. The blow felt like it broke Jericho’s foot, but he shook it off. Jericho tried a three-strike combination on Denison but was deflected every time. He was tiring out of options and energy. Jericho switched to fighting defensively, until he could find a solution.


    Denison immediately sprang a trap on Jericho and knocked him down with a fury of high chops. Jericho fell down and tried to kick Denison, but this time the corrupted youth was waiting for him. Denison blocked both his feet, and pinned him down by the throat, his scimitar brushing the hairs on Jericho’s neck. He had done it. He was defeated and awaiting execution.  Jericho begged Denison to remember him. The scimitar still aimed at his neck. There had to be some reason why he was keeping him alive. He was not yet fully evil. Jericho bargained with him. Denison raised his hands to behead Jericho. When Denison lifted his arms past his head, Jericho kicked his feet up, throwing Denison’s body to the floor. He immediately propelled himself up with his hands over his shoulders.


    As he rose, Jericho sliced Denison in half. His top half was drained of life as it slid off its bottom half at the waist. It hit into Jericho as it slid down. The deformed remains of the boy he once owed his life to. Jericho looked around, he felt alone and cold. He did not want to fight anymore. He wanted this all to be over. He begged for the end. In one last act of dark life, Denison grabbed at Jericho’s throat. Blinded by his isolation, Jericho allowed his fallen foe to wrap his neck up. Denison died and his body locked in place. Jericho fell to the ground, along with the rest of the dead; breathless. If he die here tonight it was only right that it be at the hands of he who saved him back at Caliber.


    Mortikahn was still coming out of his daze. His horse was dead, but he could no longer care. The darksiders were swarming around them. Mortikahn tried to get his bearings. What happened to him? He was thrown. Some dark champion tossed him away as if he were nothing. The crossroads were now darker. Most of their comrades on the other side had retreated, which just left the swarming Necrogallion and any other monsters out there.


    Mortikahn was on the edge of the battle, alone on one side, the other side of the road which led to empty dark space. Mortikahn brushed himself off and readjusted his sword. There was his cousin before him battling with a darksider. But before he could help Jericho, Mortikahn was snatched up by two enormous talons.


    He rose into the air rapidly and heard a bird’s screeching terribly close-by. At a deafening volume, Mortikahn covered his ears and screamed in pain. It was unbearable while it lasted. Until Mortikahn was thrown onto the flat roof of a building.


    The craven was hideous. It pecked at Mortikahn’s feet while he was still squirming on his back as it got closer. This one had giant beady eyes with dark drooped eyelids. Its skin was plagued with limp feathers of short raggedy black hair. Inside of its bruised beak were crooked fangs and small grinded down teeth and a long slimy tongue. At the end of its wings were small claws with stretched out fingers. It grasped at Mortikahn. This beast was truly a monster. It screeched out again and Mortikahn was almost blinded with pain. He stuffed his fingers into his ears and opened his eyes.


    The bird lunged at him with its shrill neck. It pecked Mortikahn as he got up. He threw his sword into its eye. It coiled in pain, and immediately lashed out at Mortikahn, pushing him off of the building.


    Mortikahn fell down the stories for certain death. But the craven flew by and caught him before he hit the ground. Mortikahn pulled out his bow and an arrow. He loaded his bow and aimed for the wing flapping above him. Close enough, Mortikahn was able to target the bird’s bone. He fired his arrow, and it broke through the wing’s joint, breaking off its hinge.


    Their flight was interrupted by the broken wing, and they went into a tailspin. Luckily, the craven had not flown far up after it caught Mortikahn. They slid onto the street. Mortikahn cradled by the large bird’s body, rolled off and braced himself. But the craven was lifeless. Mortikahn took a look at the monstrous creature’s face. It did not breathe. Mortikahn pulled his sword out of its eye.


    The craven rose up, howled in exhilarating pain, and went after Mortikahn. The brave warrior backed away, blocking the bird’s beak attacks with his sword. After one more parry, Mortikahn swung himself around under the craven and sliced his talon clean off. The bird jerked its balance and went into crooked flight. With one of its last working extremities, its talon picked Mortikahn back up.


    They climbed the thick dark air once again, this time at a much slower rate. Mortikahn still had his sword. He squirmed into place and went to stab it in the stomach. But the craven rolled over and shook the sword from Mortikahn’s grip. It helplessly plummeted into the shadowed city floor. Mortikahn went for his arrows.


    He pulled two out, one in each hand, and started stabbing the remaining talons. The foot twitched and released Mortikahn. He grabbed a hold of the arrow he stabbed into the craven’s small palm. He pulled out another arrow and began climbing over to the craven’s back. He got right behind its neck, before the heavily wounded bird crashed into a building corner. They both collided with the stone and rolled over on the building’s roof.


    Mortikahn tried to pick himself back up. The craven was already doing so. He had to get up, but all his energy was gone. He reached for another arrow but could not get up. The craven licked its wounds and crawled over to Mortikahn, finally ready to kill him. The disgusting monster bird cawed one more time and drove Mortikahn to the brink. The bleeding, the pain, the darkness of it all was getting to him. He was scared out of his mind.


    He slit the craven in the neck with his sword. The thick blood trickled out and the bird flapped its wings, squawking. The life poured out of it and it died crying beside Mortikahn. The bird’s life stopped but its crying kept going; except it was coming from much farther away. Mortikahn looked up. Another bird came from the dark clouds bearing down right on top of him.


    “You’ve got to be kidding me…”


    Mortikahn jumped off the roof and slid down to the next one. The craven chased after him. When he jumped off the next roof, the one after was too far away. Mortikahn dropped down into the alleyway.


    The craven reached down and grabbed Mortikahn with its talons. It flew up and threw him into the air, right before the roof of another building. The craven opened its mouth to bite Mortikahn tumbling through the air. From the rooftop of the corner building, Paxikahn leapt into the air at the craven which was attempting to devour his nephew.


    He shoved his sword into the cravens mouth and down its throat. Its teeth cut open his arms, loosening his grip and he fell, along with Mortikahn, down to the streets below, but in light of all that he had killed the monstrous bird. Now if only he could save his nephew. They both fell for the floor, side by side, with the craven’s carcass. Mortikahn was overjoyed to see that his uncle was still alive, but that was all short lived as their doom rapidly approached them with the stone hard city floor.