《Legendary Kingdoms》


 Prologue & World Map

    PROLOGUE


    Far away, in a distant realm reflected off the stars, there is a young portrait of Earth called MagnaThora. Forged from the union of Cosmos and Chaos, the primordial world surged with unlimited potential. In the wake of significance, humankind was born. Humanity¡¯s emergence brought all the intangible energy and infinite forces together and turned them into gods.


    An Age of Fire. An Age of Winter. And an Age of Storms ravaged all the land, preventing humanity from achieving agricultural technology.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Every time the gods intervened; they made matters worse. It took absolute withdrawal from their beloved MagnaThora to reach planetary equilibrium, leaving only four animal demigods behind, not to rule but to preserve. And so, in the Fourth Age of Equinox, inspired by animal myth and folklore, the original tribes of humanity claimed dominion over MagnaThora.


    The prophesied Age of Solstice now approaches.


    For too long the Supreme Dichotomy has been left unchecked. Pitting unyielding darkness against unexplainable truth, unearthing an ancient imbalance between good and evil. No corner of MagnaThora will be able to escape the eternal struggle, but one young man desperate for meaning will see it in his dreams long before anyone else, and this is his story.


    <h2>WORLD MAP</h2>

 Chapter 1: Knighthood of the Silver Den

    Part One: The Zepathorum King


    <h2> </h2>


    CHAPTER 1¡ªKNIGHTHOOD OF THE SILVER DEN


    Mitakahn put forth little resistance in the fight against his nap. Having heard these legends countless times during his tenure at the academy, he had mastered the art of coping with the monotony of lectures. Now the nap itself was pure reflex. It was perfectly natural for a robust late riser to doze off after rushing through the chilled dawn and sitting beside a warm hearth. Who could blame him?


    Whereas sometimes fate spoke through random acts, it was truly remarkable how many of Mitakahn¡¯s major life events could be traced all the way back to an insignificant moment, like not getting enough sleep after having a bad dream. This morning''s session focused on a prehistoric kingdom of MagnaThora.


    Ser Gasper continued, ¡°Before there were kings, before there were wars, before people had reason to write events down, making them historical, the Southlands were ruled by the dragons. What do we have for empirical evidence? Mere verbal accounts and songs are all that remain of the dragon lords. Their origins are rooted so deep in the shadow it is still unclear whether they were a house that took the dragon as their sigil or actual dragons themselves!¡±


    The old knight exhaled. He released his finger pointing in the air. One of the students yawned as the deflated teacher continued, wishing he had a session with the first-years instead. Before the legend found its natural conclusion an interruption startled the class.


    ¡°NO!¡± yelled Mitakahn.


    His head had slipped off his hand jolting him awake, the memory of his dream instantly evading him. In that moment, he screamed loud enough to stop the lesson and garner the collective attention of the class. Mitakahn let a few moments go by, in what felt like an eternity, before excusing himself from the room and certain humiliation ¨C temporarily.


    He ran through the oldstone hallway, passing all the other lectures still in session. Mitakahn turned a corner and bolted for the exit. He knew the doors behind the Silver Den accoladium were often left unsupervised. His suspicions were confirmed after slipping out of the building.


    One word followed Mitakahn into the wilderness where he hoped to find some peace and respite. One word he had wrapped his entire frame of existence around since the day he was born. The meaning of the dream may have eluded him, but one remnant chased him into the woods. Not just a word but a name¨C Theomitus.


    Most of the students assumed the school¡¯s isolated mountaintop location was just a form of educational retreat from the world they knew. It was, in fact, one of the oldest landmarks in all of the kingdoms. Before the kings there were gods. What could possibly be before the gods but more gods?


    West of the mountains was the godsmash crater. Mitakahn loved that phrase from the history books. Surrounded by the sea on one side and the mountains on the other. The crater was the only patch of MagnaThora that has gone untouched by man since the dawn of time. This crescent moon cliff-side used to be one massive, full (moon) mountain before the first founder god came crashing down, crushing the mountain upon impact, leaving only the crescent moon cliff standing. Ever since, it has been preserved by most kingdoms, and considered sacred, forever forbidden under swift penalty.


    Iron-clad laws prohibited any trespassing, but most people kept off of it out of respect. The school was built as its guardian, perched on the cliffs above. There was only one game trail that ran down to the holy lands, carved seamlessly into the cliff-face. Few knew of it, none dared to traverse it...


    Mitakahn sat in the grass at the bottom of the trail warming his face in the sun, having just made the decision to also skip his afternoon session, another one of his last semester classes. The severity of his trespassing did not evade him. Instead of listening to reason, he used it as an excuse to prove his resourcefulness. Mitakahn hid in the only place no one would dare come looking for him.


    In fact, not many people knew what was really down here. While Mitakahn had been descending the trail he got a better look at the Sacred Lands. That was how he knew not to venture any further. The rest of the valley appeared to be below sea level. He could tell by the over-developed marshlands. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in a bog with no one around to help him.


    The rest of the day unfolded without a flaw. His friends were going to give him relentless ridicule when he returned, it was all but guaranteed. Even still, warm weather, blue skies, and puffy white clouds marked the day a victory. Mitakahn was free to daydream.


    Mitakahn¡¯s mind could wander farther than any foot could ever walk. In his reflections he found peace, and in the shade over a nice bed of wild grass he found quiet. He could not help but doze off again. Midday naps were his favorite. When almost everyone else was too busy awake and living their lives, he was dreaming. It was as if being the only one dreaming made the dreams that much more potent.


    He was so content he slept the rest of the day away, which was odd because if Mitakahn was known for anything around campus it was never missing a meal. Outside of his small circle of friends, Mitakahn didn¡¯t always get along with the rest of the students. He was not the smartest and he was not the strongest. This was uncommon for someone with such an old family name, like Arkenoir.


    He was awoken by a growl that, surprisingly enough, didn¡¯t come from his stomach. Mitakahn found a big enough stick to serve as a club for protection. Regret flooded his mind for not bringing a blade. It was already dusk and too late to climb back up the trail, to do it at all was madness, to do it at night was certain death. Mitakahn would be stuck down here for the night. It''s a good thing he was no tenderfoot, but well-trained in his five-year tenure at the knighthood. No immediate threat revealed itself after the growl, so he set a small fire before getting started on a shelter.


    While finishing up his lean-to he thought he heard a slow rustle from the trees behind him. Mitakahn softly moved away from the fire, out of sight. It could be anything. He could hunt it. He could be the hunted. Crouched down low into the brush, he waited for his intruder.


    There was nothing to be seen. But he still heard sounds of a threat. Mitakahn grew anxious, his nerves getting the best of him. He had to do something. With a big gulp, he started walking back out to the campfire. He gritted his teeth and used himself as bait¨C which was never a good idea and only a measure of desperation. Mitakahn¡¯s self-awareness piqued suddenly exposing the fool¡¯s errand, a true knight would have remained steadfast and waited for a better opportunity.


    Beads of sweat dropped off his forehead, haunting his every step. Mitakahn barely stepped forth before regretting his decision. He dropped, and in doing so saved himself from getting mauled. The beast missed its mark, but still managed to take some flesh with it; stout claws sliced into the back of his shoulder blade.


    He dropped the club in the attack and narrowly avoided falling on top of it, twisting his kneecap. The beast landed close enough to the fire for it to get spooked and scurried off. Preoccupied with identifying his foe, Mitakahn¡¯s focus kept him from screaming and he rolled over the pain. It blended in with the trees so easily. Four legs, rough skin, no fur, uncanny agility. These traits did not add up to any local fauna.


    The beast flew down from the tree branch and attacked. Mitakahn dodged the aerial assault by the grace of the gods. The winged creature was not just passing by; it was looking for its next meal. Mitakahn reached for his club, but it redirected in an instant and rushed him again. Now face to face, with the help of the firelight, he could see it was a winged lizard, known as a basilisk. Impossible. Mitakahn gave up going for the club and instead jumped out of the way of the charging reptile.


    The beast¡¯s kicking heel knocked the club into the fire. Mitakahn picked up a rock and hurled it. The basilisk dodged the rock, side-stepping it, and made another run at Mitakahn.


    Sure, the lesson books showed illustrations of what a basilisk of the south looked like, but not like this. This reptile was far larger than anything Mitakahn could have expected. They grappled back and forth. Tossing, tackling, and rolling around on the ground.


    The reptile¡¯s tail wrapped around Mitakahn¡¯s neck. He desperately scratched at the tightening coils closing off his air flow. He stopped swiping at the tail and rolled over, pinning the lizard down. He then pushed them both forward on the ground and into a small tree. In the struggle, the tree snapped near its base.


    The splintered stem stuck up out of the ground like a spear. Choking halfway to death, Mitakahn found it in himself to lift them up and drop down hard. It worked! Impaling the base of the basilisk¡¯s tail on the broken tree shard. Dismemberment was a great form of distraction. Air gushed back into his lungs as the tail released its grip, falling away from the beast as it scurried away.


    Mitakahn got back to his feet and ran to the fire, ducking behind it for a chance to catch his breath. The giant reptile would give him no such opportunity. It flew haphazardly out of the brush above Mitakahn. There was a bizarre shift he had never felt before. Something he could not see, but he could feel closed in around him.


    Everything slowed down.


    Mitakahn looked down at his left hand, believing this would not be for the last time. He closed his eyes, and reached into the flame, searching for a grip...


    Mitakahn winced, pulling the club out of the fire and swung it at the basilisk flying overhead. He knew his fingers had to be burnt, but in the heat of the fight he felt little pain. The fiery club slammed into the serpent¡¯s ribcage and a burst of embers exploded in the darkness. The dynamic blast encapsulated the fallen adversary in a fiery celebration of splintered cinders. The reptile fell, tried to get back up and then stumbled over clawing back into the brush.


    Blood and dying embers marred the brush. Mitakahn followed its trail and found the motionless beast sprawled out. It was finally dead. At the sight of it his nerves began to settle down. His body caught up while his mind slowed down. Exhaustion and pain were taking over. Even still, he wanted to get a good look at it. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The grayish-green scales covered most of its body, from its stub of a tail to its horned brow, all save its beige underbelly. The most frightening part for Mitakahn was the thin leathery skin connecting its arms to its body. This reptile had wings. Mitakahn knew it did not fly as much as it glided, but this was still the closest thing to a dragon he had ever seen, and the implications were disturbing.


    ¡°What in the Nethers is a cold-blooded creature like you doing this far north?¡±


    He dropped the club. His singed hand, scratched-up back, and twisted knee all sang to him. Mitakahn plopped down onto the ground drained of energy, the full impact of the fight taking inventory on his body. The smell of the dead basilisk was horrible, like fermented grass and droppings. Mitakahn wrestled with the stench briefly before passing out.


    The second time Mitakahn awoke in the Sacred Lands he did so with the sun. He still had some time before First Horn and could make it up the trail in the light, but he knew there would be no hiding his physical condition. He didn''t waste any time looking back. He had enough of a reminder riddling his body with swells and pain, vowing never again to visit the Holy Lands of MagnaThora. Irony at its best.


    When Mitakahn reached the top, he saw his friends on their way to class. Right before Mitakahn got to them, a member of the faculty called out from across the fields.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡± yelled Ser Pulitzer, with his ill-fitting spectacles bouncing on his high-ridged nose as he ran. ¡°You¡¯ve been summoned by the headmaster.¡±


    Mitakahn changed direction and started running over to the Main Hall, attempting to hide his limp. He had been caught before he even had a chance to get away with it. First Horn sounded and the entire student body proceeded to their morning sessions.


    Mitakahn felt a great schism in his path. He was no longer on the same trajectory as the rest of his peers. He was no longer a student beginning his morning session. Some force was pulling him, where? He did not know... But he would not resist the current back to the wilderness; for better or for worse.


    The columns of the main building were made of greenish gray oldstone. Mitakahn walked through the massive slabs lodged together to form the capital story walk-up.


    The top of the stairs led up to the headmaster¡¯s office. This was the kind of information Mitakahn thought a student should know of, but never actually see for himself. The doors to the office swung open before him as the sunlight invaded the previously dim stairwell. The quick flash of light nearly blinded him but soon receded to reveal the headmaster sitting at his desk, in all of his prestige and glory, and of course, his infamous long gray wispy beard, so pronounced and overgrown, its bottom tip wiped his desk free of any dust.


    ¡°Mitakahn, please have a seat.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Master Gribbons.¡± Mitakahn said, as his palms began to sweat.


    ¡°You look like you had a rough night.¡±


    Ser Pulitzer remained by the headmaster¡¯s side, hovering carefully with his arms crossed. ¡°The boy needs medical attention, Master.¡±


    ¡°I can explain-¡±


    ¡°To save you from further embarrassment, Mitakahn, I will inform you now that we are aware you missed all of your classes yesterday,¡± said Gribbons.


    Mitakahn sunk in his chair. This was going to be ugly.


    ¡°We had the fourth-year scouts track you to the Sacred Lands trail, and furthermore Ser Pulitzer informs me that he witnessed you returning to camp from the trail just now.¡±


    ¡°Master, please if I could just ex-¡± Mitakahn rubbed his hands together anxiously.


    ¡°You know what we have to do, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°¡­Please¡­¡±


    ¡°It is one of the oldest laws of this institution¡­¡±


    ¡°This house was basically founded on it, son,¡± Ser Pulitzer added.


    The proceedings of the room came to a sudden halt. The headmaster turned his attention towards the tenured knight and Mitakahn could not help but quietly revel in it.


    ¡°Give us the room, Ser Pulitzer.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, Headmaster.¡±


    Once the door closed Headmaster Gribbons¡¯ facial expressions almost completely changed. The unyielding stern front he was famous for faded and a burdened look stretched across the headmaster¡¯s face. Mitakahn could read the old knight loud and clear, he was conflicted.


    ¡°Mitakahn, I have no choice.¡±


    ¡°If people find out I was expelled it will disgrace my father¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°You think I have not heavily weighed all the ramifications of your actions? Maybe if you were so aware of your father¡¯s house and its societal standings within the eight kingdoms from the start you would have never crossed the forbidden threshold!¡±


    ¡°Headmaster, I meant no disrespect.¡±


    ¡°Your father is a king, Mitakahn, which makes you a-¡±


    ¡°Prince. But not the one that counts, right?¡± Mitakahn¡¯s temper finally took hold, ¡°My whole life I have been told I am an heir, but what¡¯s the point? I¡¯m the prince who will never be king. What is my purpose? The very question that brought me here. Feudal code and ancient tradition have ever been the bane of my existence. What is it about a patch like any other ground that makes it forbidden? Why does being born a couple years too late take away your chance of being king, even if you could be a better fit?¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, if you fail to see the quintessential lesson of this academy after five years, then that alone in my eyes would be grounds for dismissal.¡±


    ¡°Master¡­ I-¡±


    ¡°It is not for us to decide the way of the world. True knights of the Silver Den attune to their surroundings, they do not expect the world to attune to them.¡±


    ¡°Headmaster, you are right.¡± Mitakahn calmed himself down, ¡°I have trained here for five years now. The lessons you and your knights have instilled upon me I will never forget. I have come to terms with the fact that life does not revolve around what I want. But sometimes it gets the best of me and getting what I want is exactly my way of standing up for myself. You say we don¡¯t matter, I say we should. At what point does letting the world rule itself hinder our ability to do good? Your teachings are useful for developing one¡¯s senses but are useless and outdated for practical applications in the real world.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, if you would have just brought these concerns to me in a proper forum I would have finished your training personally. But now, after what you did¡­¡±


    ¡°And if you send me packing, Headmaster, weeks before we are knighted. Zepathorum will be the laughingstock of the eight kingdoms.¡±


    ¡°We will not make your expulsion public.¡±


    ¡°How do you plan on doing that?¡±


    ¡°The manner is directly correlated with how we caught on to your violation in the first place.¡±


    Mitakahn felt something he had never experienced before, like an endless pit opening up in his gut. It was a sense of, to put it in words:


    How could this get any worse?


    ¡°We received word from the crimson kingdom, the great lion himself King Theomitus has called you home.¡±


    ¡°With just a couple of weeks left? Why?¡±


    ¡°No reason was provided.¡±


    ¡°What could possibly be more important than getting knighted?¡±


    ¡°Objectively speaking Mitakahn, from my experience it¡¯s usually one of four events: a royal birth, wedding, coronation, or death.¡±


    Mitakahn felt the impact of that last one just a little bit longer than the others. Before he sank any further in both chair and heart, Mitakahn jumped up.


    ¡°Tell me you sent correspondence of my return already, before you caught me in the Sacred Lands.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it was already decided by the council of elders that notification of your dismissal would be sent post-haste. By the time you get home your father will know that you failed your quest for knighthood.¡±


    He had heard enough. Mitakahn politely excused himself before he completely lost his composure. The realization of helplessness settled in all too quickly. Before Mitakahn knew it he was heading across the commons. The amount of trouble he was in felt like a weight around his neck, pulling his eyes to the ground. He found himself walking, where? He did not know. All he knew was he had to get away.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡±


    His former classmate was standing directly in front of him, face to face. Mitakahn looked up at one of his closest friends, Bridger Callister. Mitakahn and Bridger had one thing in common that could not be said for any other member of the knighthood. They were both royalty. Bridger was a shining example of a true prince: tall, fast, strong, clever, and most of all¡­firstborn heir to his father¡¯s throne. After examining Mitakahn¡¯s disheveled state, Bridger tried hailing Mitakahn again, this time with a question. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I was just expelled.¡±


    Anyone else would have taken a step back or even dropped their jaw, but not Prince Bridger. He put both of his hands firmly on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulders. Mitakahn winced as pain shot down his wounds from the night before. Although his eyes were no longer on the ground Mitakahn still struggled to focus. That was until Bridger made direct eye contact; and with it, forced Mitakahn back to reality.


    ¡°My friend, tell me what happened to you.¡±


    What was there to say? In one fell swoop he managed to turn his entire life upside-down. Getting knighted was the first step of his plan to achieve a significant life beneath the throne. He just tainted the well on the initial draw. He failed and that might not even be the worst of it. Some scandal awaited him, a secret so shrouded in mystery he had no choice but to track it to its source. Mitakahn saw it in Bridger¡¯s crystal blue eyes, the clarity of the situation reflected back onto him. It was time for Mitakahn to go home¡­


    And face the crimson.

 Chapter 2: The Tragic King

    CHAPTER 2 ¨C THE TRAGIC KING


    Mitakahn missed home. It had been over four years since he enrolled in the knighthood, and apart from the few breaks between sessions, the prince had spent the majority of those years at the academy; away from home, his home, and his people, known throughout all of MagnaThora as the Pride.


    He looked out across the rolling blue deep as far as the eye could see in any direction, his sea voyage coming to an end. His body still ached from the basilisk, but the wounds were healing. The massive wooden frigate with an abundance of sails carried him across the Neiad Bay. Rather than send a royal escort, the king contracted a premiere merchant vessel. This meant something to Mitakahn. Time was of the essence.


    Ahead of them spawned land, more importantly a city, and the largest seaport in the north. Soon he would land in Port Caliber. The City of Caliber was built upon merchant prosperity, its downtown district now reached the same heights as its sister city, Zepathorum.


    Up ahead for Mitakahn meant simultaneously bringing home his ugly truth and confronting the mystery that awaited him. Although he did not know anything for sure yet, he was picking up subtle clues from his unfolding surroundings. His ship was not received by a magnificent welcoming party like every other time he had returned home, no real surprise there. It was merely Queen Ady¨¢na standing at the docks with her royal guards, awaiting her second-born son.


    Queen Ady¨¢na was once a princess of the Horse Kingdom in the West. In her youth and up until recently, she had flowing brunette hair bundled and woven in thick braids down to her waist, and warm brown eyes. The cargo frigate docked at the northern cape at Seaport Village Pier. Prince Mitakahn walked down the boarding ramp in his gray cloak. They were kind enough to let him keep it, knowing full well he would never obtain the silver cloak of an ordained knight.


    His mother looked up, astonished. Time had altered many things since last they met, and the prince¡¯s growth would have perhaps been the topic of conversation given normal circumstances, but too much had changed at home. Mitakahn looked down at his mother. He finally got a good look at her and realized that while time had been good for Mitakahn¡¯s growth, it had taken its toll on his mother.


    Queen Adyana bore such burden in her eyes, her dark brown pupils gave way to a darkness Mitakahn had never seen before. Her hair, still down to her waist, had withered into brunette and gray stressed strips. Her face looked worn down and profoundly sad. After looking hard, Mitakahn could still see her beauty, but in his absence something had been plaguing her along with the rest of the townsfolk.


    The Queen greeted her son with a warm embrace. He would be the last to know in the entire kingdom of the awful news. It was amazing how Mitakahn had been kept in the dark until the summons reached him at the knighthood, a true testament to the Silver Den¡¯s reclusiveness. Up until now he had been worried about his own misdeeds, but the atmosphere around town was too much to ignore.


    There was an unusual density to the air. The winds from the sea seemed to stop right before the city. Everyone walked with their heads hung low, eyes to the cobblestone ground, as if a contagious despair afflicted the city. In the shadow of change crept a sullen gloom. Mitakahn dismissed it as a lousy seaport day. The once bright, bustling, clean streets of the port city resembled more of a murky melancholy that left the prince feeling estranged.


    His journey was not over. He took a carriage with his mother out of Port Caliber and up to Zepathorum City. It was in this carriage that she explained to him what was going on.


    ¡°Now listen carefully, Mitakahn, because it is going to be hard enough repeating this once. I do not wish to say it again¡­¡±


    ¡°Go ahead, Mother.¡±


    ¡°Your father is very sick. We do not know how it happened, but it is¡­ It doesn¡¯t seem like he is going to make it. Whatever kind of sickness this is, it is eating him from the inside out. I have been watching him for months now, and it has only gotten worse in that time. There is little- hope.¡± the queen trailed off with no idea of what to say next.


    Mitakahn sat there, eyes wide, lost in horror and confusion. He had so many questions and he was so furious, but there was only one thing he could say. ¡°I understand.¡±


    The shock rang out inside his mind, stunning him for the time being. He wasn¡¯t going to get any answers; not right now. What else could he hope to make of this until he could see for himself? But something inside him, something deep down, had always feared that this evil was lurking. Mitakahn always suspected there were things his father kept from them, old secrets that made kings the loneliest people on the planet.


    Mitakahn had harbored so many questions growing up. What happened to the rest of the Arkenoir Dynasty? His family had ruled for hundreds of years, yet all his uncles, aunts, and cousins were on his mother¡¯s side from the ShoreLands. It was too late now. He had let the unknown fester in his time away. Maybe if Mitakahn was around more he would have been able to spot it sooner... He tried not to spiral down the slippery slope of placing blame.


    Before he knew it, they were entering the gates of Zepathorum.


    Mitakahn¡¯s time away helped him recapture Zepathorum¡¯s splendor. The city was made of crimson crystal towers with a skyline peaking high enough to kiss low hanging clouds and wrapped by a ribbon wall. The crimson city sparkled in the sun. The highest tower being the citadel, the residence of the royal family, rested in the exact middle of the city with its back to Lake Niobi. The crystal made Zepathorum one of the most beautiful cities in all of MagnaThora and, more importantly, the most impenetrable.


    The twin cities of Caliber and Zepathorum resembled a harmony of modern marvel and ancestral ingenuity. They rode in the dual horse-drawn carriage through Zepathorum down Crimson Boulevard. Mitakahn was home. The prince would get to see his father at last.


    Mitakahn walked up the spiral staircase of the royal tower and into the king¡¯s resting chambers without hesitation. No amount of anticipation could brace him for what he was about to see.


    Once again his mind toyed with him. In the few seconds before he entered the room Mitakahn feared the worst. What if he looked horrible? He had no idea what to think. His mother¡¯s briefing almost felt like a detriment. He was shaken to the core, which made him feel like a child once again. It was a little after midday and even with a light in the corner of the room it still seemed dark. Mitakahn hated the feeling. This was not the home he remembered.


    He turned to see his father sitting on the bed. Mitakahn was appalled. In the time passed it seemed that Theomitus had aged over thirty years. The King¡¯s beard, which Mitakahn modeled his own after, was gray and spotty. His skin was tight and worn out. His eyes, once powerful and authoritative, were now surrendered to the sickness and glazed over, almost vacant. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    His body was scrawny and fragile. The fat and meat on his bones were completely gone, his skeleton sucked dry. He was half the man he used to be. His crown now looked over-sized but not ill-fitting.


    King Theomitus looked up and saw his son. Without hesitation, he tried to stand. ¡°Mitakahn!¡±


    Mitakahn instinctively rushed to his side to help him, the corner of his gray cloak whipping the air. ¡°I¡¯m here¡­I¡¯m here now, Father. Everything is going to be alright.¡± For the first time ever, the prince found himself comforting his king. Together, they stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by family, hugging each other. Mitakahn opened his eyes; he was taller than his father. Since when?


    He wanted to break down right then and there and cry, but he didn¡¯t. Something inside of him made him hold on, hold true to what he believed in to get him through this. He had to be strong for the time being, strong for his father and his family. Like the ends would one day justify the means, and once it was all over life would have found its own path to the greater meaning¡­if he could just hold strong now. Mitakahn acknowledged this force and pulled it close, along with his father.


    The king held onto Mitakahn tightly. It had been too long.


    ¡°Mitakahn, th-there¡± he stuttered, ¡°there are so many things I¡¯ve wanted to say to you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, father. I¡¯m home now. We have plenty of time.¡±


    ¡°¡­time for what?¡±


    Mitakahn was completely thrown off by his father¡¯s confusion. Only later did he find out from his mother that a couple of days ago the king had lost the ability to keep his attention. Theomitus was losing his mind. One moment they would be in the presence of the king, the next moment he was either docile or disoriented. The mind was a fickle, complex thing. Even in such abnormal circumstances, there was still a woeful balance only chaos could connect.


    ? ? ?


    When King Theomitus first began to feel this sickness inside of him his mind immediately focused on the future. The king knew something was wrong for a while but did not show any signs of physical ailment. Theomitus decided not to say anything and keep his family in the dark about his sickness. He did this by going on a quest, leaving Mitakahn¡¯s older brother and heir to the throne, Prince Axion Arkenoir, in charge of the entire kingdom for the first time.


    At the time, the royal family did not think anything of it. They thought it was merely a trial for Axion as prince and future ruler of the kingdom and a vacation for the reigning king. Theomitus even mentioned to his wife how dealing with the lords, the council of Prestigents, the senators, and most of all the governor would be good for the prince¡¯s growth in diplomacy. In the king¡¯s words, ¡°One of the most integral skill sets for ruling a kingdom is snake-juggling.¡±


    On his journey he walked to many lands and cities filled with old enemies. He searched far and wide for ancient treasures and went to look for places that had drifted off the map long ago. But no one knew he searched for such treasures. And whatever secrets he found or uncovered, he kept to himself, leaving a quiet mystery in his wake.


    When he returned home to Zepathorum the king never talked about his journey. In fact, by the time he came back he was beginning his descent and barely spoke at all. Theomitus would soon start cramping up in ordinary daily motion.


    His hips and groin ached. He thought he¡¯d pulled something. Or that¡¯s what he told them. Maybe he was just getting old and starting to feel it. That was how he rationalized it, how he kept the possibility of something far worse at bay. Soon the shroud of menial ailments would be pulled to reveal the truth.


    ? ? ?


    The king returned from his journey. For a time, he kept Axion in charge. Theomitus relished in the idea of taking an early retirement. He spent his days with his beloved Ady¨¢na, like back before they had kids and a kingdom to worry about.


    Theomitus stared at the sun¡¯s radiance bouncing off the golden shine within his throne room: the manes on the lionshead sculptures ever-present amongst the royal architecture, the gilded crown molding, and the crimson carpets embroidered with gold threads. He looked out wide openings created by the balconies at a panoramic view of his city and kingdom beyond it.


    His queen walked into the room, practically skipping with glee. The hair braided down her back was still a bright brunette, and she had not a worry in the world. Theomitus compared the beauty of the sunshine with the loveliness of his wife¡¯s eyes. ¡°Do you know what today is, my king?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I believe I do, fair queen. It is the anniversary of our wedding day.¡±


    ¡°Correct, your majesty. Happy Anniversary!¡± She smiled while she leaned in over the throne for a kiss. Together the two of them sat on the throne, Ady¨¢na on Theomitus¡¯ lap, peering out over the southern window, past Lake Niobi, at the cascading fields of the Serengeti.


    ¡°One day,¡± promised the king, ¡°when Mitakahn is done with school, and Axion has taken the throne, we shall retire to a small town in the Serengeti, and find a nice place by the lake¡­¡±


    They both stared out into the horizon with joyful smiles on their faces. ¡°That sounds perfect,¡± replied Queen Ady¨¢na. She jumped up, like a little girl, turned around, and went to say, ¡°And perhaps, we can have a-¡±


    But before she could finish she saw something wrong in the face of her beloved. Half his smile turned to frown, while the eye above it began to droop. Ady¨¢na screamed when King Theomitus started shaking uncontrollably.


    ¡°Help!¡± yelled Ady¨¢na. ¡°Guards!¡±


    Ady¨¢na rushed over to the king, who was now fully out of control of his bodily functions. She held his head by her bosom, keeping it from trembling, while the rest of his body convulsed and then fell limp, lifeless. She feared for the worst, and screamed out yet again, ¡°GUARDS! THE KING NEEDS YOU!¡±


    The Royal Guard rushed in to tend to the fallen king.


    ¡°He¡¯s still breathing! Quick, get him down to the infirmary, and notify Prince Axion of what has happened. HURRY!¡± ordered Queen Ady¨¢na.


    They moved into action and carefully brought the fainted king downstairs. Ady¨¢na met Axion at the infirmary. ¡°It is best if we tell no one what has happened right now, especially Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± said Axion, ¡°He should finish out his schooling without worry.¡±


    Together the prince and queen concealed the king¡¯s condition as best they could. But he only got worse, and it was apparent what was happening to him. Soon, the council was notified, followed shortly by the entire nation. Eventually, the world at large would know that King Theomitus was tragically ill.


    Mitakahn alone would be kept ignorant of the horror and plague that the royal family was going through, until finally it became too dismal to be kept at bay, and the time came to call Mitakahn home.


    ? ? ?


    Theomitus was at the brink of death, and Mitakahn was just finding out he had a limited amount of time left with his father. The king knew an intimate apocalypse was on the horizon for his family, one he would regrettably be the cause of, one he could not be there to lead a recovery after. His guilt weighed on his body, and his gravity succumbed to depression, a new psychological symptom of the illness.


    But soon his mind would rot with the venom invading his body, and the burden would give way to confusion. He wouldn¡¯t talk much, just walk in a constant daze. No longer would he be able to lay down plans for the future. It was clear his mind had moved past the present, possibly to somewhere else entirely.


    Mitakahn often wondered how life would be if perceived through his father¡¯s eyes, in his ¡°on the brink¡± condition. What arbitrary doors of physical life would be closed, and infinite doors of rapture opened? Like the shadow growing under a windowsill from the setting sun.

 Chapter 3: Castle Rosi Island

    CHAPTER 3 ¨C CASTLE ROSI ISLAND


    Mitakahn was shown to his room by his mother. As they crossed over the upper floors of the citadel tower they passed through the throne room. Even with the noon sun reflecting an abundance of light by the open balconies surrounding them, the room still felt hollow to him, devoid of life and the way it used to be.


    The crimson and gold banners dipping listlissly from column to column between balconies. A lonely lion¡¯s head, expertly encased and outlined in crystal, mounted to the wall, towering over the humble throne below it. Made of the finest imported mahogany oakenwood, the throne was lifted off the ground by two polished crimstone steps.


    Mitakahn lingered a second for a view of the lake and the Serengeti beyond it. His mother caught the stall in his stride and patiently waited for him at the door. Without turning his head to look at her, Mitakahn asked Ady¨¢na, ¡°Where is my brother?¡±


    ¡°Axion went to Castle Rosi. Once you have settled in, I have arranged Commander Cel¡¯a to escort you to meet him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready now, Mother.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡± She turned and started back across the throne room.


    Having already forgotten to remove his gray cloak in all the commotion, Mitakahn decided to keep it on rather than switch to citadel colors, and boarded the same carriage he was brought in on. It was sitting there unmanned. He grabbed the reins and took to the streets, making his way through the city limits. Mitakahn drove his double horse-drawn carriage to the gatehouse like a man about town. Although the people¡¯s faces might not have all warmed at the sight of him, he still connected to this city at its core. He always did. He was back; it was time to fully be here and embrace his return.


    Mitakahn arrived at his rendezvous with his father¡¯s number-one guard, Commander Cel Adora.


    ¡°Welcome home, my prince.¡±


    ¡°Please, Cel¡¯a, if we are to be companions across the region do me the favor of dispensing with formalities.¡± He smiled at her, ¡°Call me Mitakahn.¡±


    Cel¡¯a broke her ready stance with a smile. ¡°I will try, but no promises, my¡­dear¡­¡±


    Mitakahn quickly understood that it was a reflex she had developed over the years. He would do best to let it go and get to the bottom of their journey. ¡°Can you help me catch up with Axion¡¯s interest in Castle Rosi?¡±


    ¡°I was waiting for you to ask. The reason your mother chose me to take you to Mercinestor is because we were both there. Lord Casterosi and I were both with your father the day he found out what it meant to be a king.¡±


    The Legend of Magnanimous, Lion Lorde


    The mighty golden-furred lion had not always been a god of the countryside like the Grey Wolfe. He was made of bluish blubber and fins for the vast depths of the ocean. But when a foreign invader forced the lion from his home, he was able to take one thing with him. Desperately he spirited away one artifact from the dark abyss at the bottom of the sea.


    The gem¡¯s color took the stormy deep blue with it, contrasting the green savannah grass in bright fashion. Every so often a bluish beam of light shot out of the gemstone suspended in the lion¡¯s fangs, catching the sunlight from above and refracting it out in spectacle.


    At first the sun rejected Magnanimous. The lordly sea lion carried the blue gem up the river. The farther he tried to take it from the water the heavier and the more abrasive it became.


    Such a painful process would never stop Magnanimous, for he was the god of courage and willpower. His fins callused into feet, with claws protruding out of each toe. His body molted free of his greasy blue blubber flesh, peeling away to reveal a rich coat of golden fur. The lion quickly realized this land trek was futile, but by the time he dropped the gem his body had adapted, and now the sun celebrated Magnanimous.


    Men and women came to see the magnificent lion. His short blond strands of hair seemed to blend their tips with the horizon and dance in the sunlight. Big buttery eyes, a regal cleft upper lip with sprawling perfectly symmetrical whiskers, and a chiseled chin completed the god-lion¡¯s face. His mane was a mix of blond and golden-brown, with sparse crimson hairs found on its very edges.


    Every shade of every color caught in the spectrum of golden brown glistened clean, luscious, and velvet to the touch. Only one of the divine beast¡¯s physical traits could be disqualified as beautiful: his claws. They were the size of a grown man¡¯s head and sharp enough to cut and roll one clean off its stem. But the need for such reckless abandon did not dwell within the lion. Magnanimous wanted to show man all the glory of his treasure.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It is called the Ignaleos Cor.¡±


    ¡°What does it do?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t do anything. It is the jewel of the abyss.¡±


    ¡°It has to do something.¡±


    Magnanimous had no love for early man. That was until they tried to help him move the Cor back to the water. Some even died trying. Magnanimous saw the raw potential of human courage and willpower. Through trial and tribulation, he found one native strong enough to drag the Ignaleos Cor back to the river, his name was Arkham.


    The great Lion roared, and an island grew from the river. A place to keep the gem. His roar moved the earth from beneath the water like the petals of a rose growing from its stem, and so he named it Rosi Island.


    Although there was never any empirical evidence to prove it, legend states that Arkham was the great ancestor of Jacob Arkenorth, the first Lord of the Lion Kingdom. Its believed that Arkham was sent back to lead those still gathered out where the great Lion had walked inland, thus founding Magnanimous¡¯ Pride, the first name for the people of the Serengeti. This settlement was the seed of the Lion Kingdom and would one day become Zepathorum City.


    ? ? ?


    A carriage, draped in the citadel banners of a gold lion-headed tower on a crimson field, took Mitakahn and Cel¡¯a north to that very island. Once again Mitakahn found himself at the receiving end of a tragic tale that directly affected his life. Cel¡¯a went into full detail in regard to meetingTheomitus when he was still a prince and assigned to new recruit training by his father. Theomitus took a liking to her immediately as the first female candidate for the royal guard, which up until that had been a boys¡¯ club. Theomitus might have moved on from being a military trainer quickly, but he never forgot Cel¡¯a. Then the day came for the Cor Trials.


    Cel¡¯a continued, ¡°This ritual was an outdated relic of our ancestors. It had no business lasting as long as it did, but every king of the Pride up to and including your grandfather had to successfully complete the trials.¡±


    ¡°What were the trials?¡±


    ¡°That is still up for debate. In fact, a curious hush was put on the ritual even as a conversational topic. Many people say many things. Some may be true and others most certainly aren¡¯t. I have faith that you will soon find out. All I can do is tell you what happened to your father.¡±


    Mitakahn stopped interrupting and let Cel¡¯a recall her formative years.


    ¡°I was still stuck in training, getting passed up for each opening in the citadel guard, when I heard your father was going to the trials. Of course, at that time his oldest brother Mitacles was becoming king and¡ª¡±


    ¡°My father has a brother?¡± Mitakahn was caught completely off-guard by this extremely relevant piece of information he had never known about.


    ¡°Your father had several siblings. As the born heir, Mitacles got to choose Theomitus and their middle brother Baal to accompany him. I asked your father once what happened. He tried to tell me. I believe he wanted to tell me. But he couldn¡¯t, so I never asked him again. It didn¡¯t matter. Only Baal and Theomitus returned from the island.


    ¡°After that King Benethor decommissioned the ritual. He left the Ignaleos Cor in the hands of House Casterosi and offered his second son Baal the throne. Unfortunately, Baal disappeared before ever becoming king. I guess most of the people were able to move on with their lives, content with never opening the trials again¡ª¡±


    ¡°But not my father.¡±


    ¡°No, not your father.¡± She smirked, ¡°He convinced me to go to the island with him. I knew then what I know now. I would follow him anywhere, to the ends of MagnaThora. So, I escorted him on his quest.¡±


    Cel¡¯a went on. The tale took most of the ride to tell. When they arrived Mitakahn¡¯s mind was wrapped up in a mess of all these things he had not known about his family and kingdom, but that was not what mattered. Mitakahn now had a hunch. And a hunch could save the day.


    The wheels rolled against the water-stained planks of the drawbridge over to the island. As they crossed, mechanisms running along the side of the bridge powered up with a bluish glow. Mitakahn watched from the back of the carriage as the bridge behind them lifted automatically.


    Stolen story; please report.¡°That¡¯s new.¡±


    The island was large enough to fit a castle and some fields to farm. It had been home to the same bloodline since the founding of the kingdom. These days the lord of Castle Rosi Island was King Theomitus¡¯ best friend. His name was Mercinestor Casterosi, but ever since Mitakahn was a boy he had called him¡­


    ¡°Uncle Nestor! It is so good to see you.¡±


    Mercinestor hugged Mitakahn. ¡°Mitakahn, my my, you have grown up! And look at that beard. You are starting to look just like your old man, be it not for your Borigini coloring.¡± Mercinestor laughed. He had the hands of a craftsman; they were tough but without calluses. His dark features gave way to his soft nature and infectious smile, complimented by a thick salt and pepper walrus mustache.


    Cel¡¯a greeted Mercinestor with a bow.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see the both of you,¡± Lord Casterosi stumbled over his words, ¡°however bittersweet the terms may be.¡±


    Mitakahn cut straight to the point, ¡°How have I spent my entire life coming to this island and never known what is kept here?¡±


    Mercinestor smiled knowingly, as if ecstatic to finally be done with the charade, and then he quickly moved on. ¡°It was the decree of your father, the king.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that I¡¯ve been so oblivious all these years. I¡¯m finally piecing it all together and I think I know what the Ignaleos Cor is, or at least where it is¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in the back¡ª¡±


    ¡°In the back!¡± Mitakahn tried to say it at the same time as Mercinestor. The Island Lord chuckled, and Mitakahn continued. ¡°I knew it! The deck with the locked door, same bluish glow coming from the cracks between the doorframes that I saw on the drawbridge...¡±


    ¡°That, my prince, is our latest invention.¡±


    ¡°Your handiwork has come a long way, far surpassing¡ª¡±


    ¡°My handiwork, it is not. That invention was all Cipher.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Mitakahn smiled proudly. ¡°Somehow that doesn¡¯t surprise me.¡±


    ¡°My son has exceeded everyone¡¯s expectations since he completed his schooling. Utilizing the Cor in ways I have never dreamt of.¡±


    ¡°I assume he is with my brother right now?¡±


    ¡°Correct. He is showing Prince Axion the Cor.¡±


    ¡°In the back,¡± Mitakahn said, overcompensating as he tried to look like he had figured everything out already.


    Cel¡¯a remained with the carriage as Mitakahn followed Mercinestor through the kitchen and dining hall, through the greenhouse, to the back deck over the harbor rocks. The deck stretched out over the water to the rocks where a detached structure stood precariously.


    ¡°This walkway used to scare me as a kid. On nights we were over for dinner and storms enraged the river tide.¡±


    ¡°We have lost good men out here,¡± said Mercinestor. ¡°It is a treacherous stretch.¡±


    Mercinestor opened the door that was always locked and let Mitakahn walk through first. The hallway quickly ended and opened up on one massive room. Towards the center of the room there was no floor; instead, walkways intertwined over the water. At their nexus, a platform held up the Ignaleos Cor. Cipher and Axion stood across the room from him.


    There he was, Mitakahn¡¯s older brother. Everything Mitakahn was and everything Mitakahn wasn¡¯t. The same brown hair, but trimmed closer, a warrior¡¯s haircut. The same brown eyes, but bigger, big enough to see the whole kingdom. The same smile, but perfect, unlike Mitakahn¡¯s slightly crooked bottom teeth. The only big difference was Mitakahn¡¯s beard, as Axion was clean shaven, a true prince.


    They came together and greeted one another.


    ¡°You could have told me about father sooner,¡± Mitakahn said, wasting no time in telling his brother how he really felt.


    ¡°How about a hello, little brother? And who do you think sent the message to the academy in the first place?¡±


    ¡°Yes, well your afterthought message got me ex¡ª¡± Mitakahn stopped himself. This wasn¡¯t the time for petty squabbles. ¡°What are we going to do, Axion?¡±


    ¡°Everything and anything we can do...¡±


    Although Axion did not stop talking, Mitakahn had a brief intermission in his head, a breath of fresh awareness over the fact that he was now noticeably taller than his older brother.


    ¡°¡­and right now, that means figuring out if this artifact is involved in any way.¡±


    Cipher took this as an opportunity to begin. Mercinestor¡¯s only son, Cipher Casterosi had inherited the family traits in more than just physical appearance. He was as sharp as his old man and pushed the limits of their knowledge every day. The big difference was Cipher¡¯s youthful physique, a carbon copy of Mercinestor that was carved out of rock and had the muscles to prove it. Although he did not have the same iconic walrus mustache, it was clear he could grow one. In fact, the shadow of the walrus was lightly cast upon his upper lip as he spoke.


    ¡°The trials used to be the only time there was any activity from the Cor. According to historical accounts and my father¡¯s own words, an energy field emanates from the Cor and creates a threshold to its own inner realm. Do I have that right, father?¡±


    ¡°That pretty much sums it up.¡± Mercinestor approached the boys, smiling. ¡°This next part is my favorite,¡± he whispered to Mitakahn.


    Cipher walked up to a console slightly off center of the room, adjacent to the core, and turned the switch. With a scratching sound, the Ignaleos Cor exploded but not with fire. Bubbling blue liquid roared and churned, becoming ever more viscous until it slowed to the pace of sludge. The lazy liquid now resembled the petals of a flower.


    He continued, ¡°I was tasked with figuring out how to recreate the phenomena. Well, since then not only have I figured out how to open the threshold to the Corscape, but I can also keep the portal suspended indefinitely, and I have found a way to funnel power from the energy it puts off.¡±


    ¡°This is far beyond the most advanced technology found anywhere in greater MagnaThora,¡± said Axion.


    ¡°This will change everything,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°It¡¯s raw power. The applications are limitless,¡± Axion added.


    Cipher nodded as he and Axion exchanged glances. It was clear they were both on the same page. ¡°I have been monitoring for any negative repercussions and so far, nothing.¡±


    ¡°A breakthrough like this could send the Pride to the top of MagnaThora,¡± said Axion.


    Mitakahn rubbed his chin between the hairs of his beard. ¡°We need to go inside.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Axion flinched. ¡°Are you mad?¡±


    "We have no idea what will happen if we cross the threshold,¡± Cipher explained.


    ¡°Father did it¡ª¡± Mitakahn said before getting cut off by Axion.


    ¡°And now he is dying.¡±


    ¡°The only way we¡¯ll know for sure is if we go in. Plus, don¡¯t skip over the fact that Uncle Nestor and Cel¡¯a remain unaffected.¡±


    ¡°He has a point, Axion¡± seconded Cipher.


    ¡°You can¡¯t actually be considering this too!¡±


    ¡°Why are we out here, then?¡± Mitakahn argued. ¡°You were waiting for my opinion. That¡¯s it. We have to go into the Corscape.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m with you, Mitakahn.¡± Cipher looked at his father for encouragement, and that was exactly what he got. Mercinestor had not wanted to say anything, but he had been waiting for someone to state the obvious.


    Before Mercinestor started, he had a thought. Theo should be here for this. But his old friend, the king was too busy fighting for his life at the Citadel to wrestle with old demons at Castle Rosi Island. ¡°Okay, boys, listen up. When I was your age these dreaded trials went south, and the royal family buried the ritual. There used to be committees that handled this sort of thing. They curated the trials for the Arkenoirs and maintained the Corscape. Those days are long over, and we don¡¯t know what waits for you on the other side.¡±


    Mercinestor continued, ¡°Others might caution us from taking such a risk, like your mother. But that¡¯s why I am here and she is not.¡± He smirked. ¡°I will make sure the portal stays open for your return.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t exactly say that convinced me, Uncle Nestor,¡± said Axion. ¡°My gods, I should have dressed in my battle armor. If only I¡¯d known this was where the day would take us.¡±


    ¡°There is still time to properly prepare,¡± said Cipher.


    ¡°No, we are here now¡­¡± Axion sighed, resigned. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

 Chapter 4: The Gem Portal

    <h2>CHAPTER 4 - THE GEM PORTAL</h2>


    Mercinestor unsheathed his sword and gave it to Axion. ¡°Take this, my prince, the Krakenwreck has never let me down.¡±


    Axion had his own sword, they all did, but this was exactly the kind of push he needed to step through the threshold.


    Together Axion, Mitakahn, and Cipher stepped up into the reticulating blue petals, cycling so smoothly together within the portal it was unclear whether the flow spawned from the center or the edge. They entered the cosmic doorway.


    With a brief push through the transient substance the petals were made of, they crossed over. Leaving the physical realm made Mitakahn feel like he was getting ripped out of his body without actually leaving. It took his breath away, as if his body mistook the displacement as being high in the sky atop the highest peak. They soldiered through the sensation and journeyed to what awaited them on the other side.


    They were inside an obscure reflection of MagnaThora. Within the Corscape everything around them had a bluish hue on it. Everything. This included Mitakahn, Cipher, and Axion as they looked at one another in disbelief. Mitakahn had made note of the feeling beneath his feet when they stepped into the swirling portal that was a continuously shifting gelatinous blob. They were not walking on the sludge petals. No, he imagined this was what existed inside one little drop of the portal.


    The walls of this reality seemed to move with their imagination, like a dream. Only when he tried to focus could Mitakahn make out what surrounded the gateway. When he drew his attention back in towards his brother and Cipher a sort of fog rolled in around them. The overwhelming sensation coursing through all three of them at the moment was the sheer doubt that they were still alive.


    Mitakahn¡¯s ears popped as soon as someone tried to speak.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what is going on,¡± Axion said, muffled, ¡°but, I hope we can get back to normal.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Axion, do not fret.¡± Even Mitakahn¡¯s own voice seemed different, not muffled but wavering, almost vibrating.


    ¡°I trust you, brother.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re with you, Mitakahn,¡± Cipher echoed.


    ¡°Glad to hear it. Cipher, you might want to lead the way as the unofficial expert.¡±


    ¡°I am hardly an expert, but I have learned of some potentially helpful checkpoints.¡± He looked back for approval from the born heir.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, dear cousin.¡± Axion grinned, ¡°I¡¯m not afraid to admit when I am out of my depth.¡±


    Cipher shrugged, ¡°As you wish,¡± and stepped forth into the cerulean haze with his sword drawn. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Axion and Mitakahn each crossed their path behind Cipher in a serpentine fashion. The fog was thick and inconsistent. The smoke amongst them whipped and remained stagnant at a whim. They were inside a stone structure with unrecognizable symbols on the walls. It appeared to be some sort of temple.


    ¡°My father told me for most people the trials will present them with a challenge made apparent.¡±


    The room opened up to a courtyard of interwoven stone paths all of which leading towards the center. The room may have opened up, but the fog did not clear. Luckily, there were weak spots. The fog thinned near the light as if it was opposed to it. Within the clearing they found the main room of the temple. Cipher called it the relic room. That was where the light was coming from, but it was still too foggy to make-out what was down there.


    ¡°I have a theory I¡¯ve been wanting to try.¡±


    Cipher unfurled a short staff, wrapped it with a cloth, and then he ignited a flame. The red blaze was quickly quelled by the bluish haze. The red flame appeared for a brief instant before mixing to purple and then fading back to the blanketing blue. ¡°There! Did you see it?¡± asked Cipher.


    ¡°I did,¡± answered Mitakahn, ¡°A brief moment of pure red, unadulterated.¡±


    Cipher nodded and they both lost track of time in thought, trying to expand upon the color theory, while Axion looked around for more clues.


    Mitakahn racked his mind for another basic red that was easily accessible. The idea struck him like a lightning bolt. So, he broke the flesh of his right hand with the tip of his sword and sucked out the blood that drained through the rupture. Axion looked at his brother bemused. Mitakahn grabbed the torch from Cipher and spat blood into the flame. The flame roared out.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Woah!¡± Axion gasped.


    The blood burned and brought the red back into view for all to see.


    The red flame did not diminish this time. No, this time it devoured the blue fog until the temple was clear of it. The smoke didn¡¯t simply clear. It was sucked into the flame, the force of which nearly dragging them off their feet. With dug in heels, they waited as the fog curtain pulled away, revealing a courtyard of tombstones.


    They had a look around. Mitakahn brought Axion over to the tombstone of Mitacles Arkenoir. All the hints and clues were starting to fall into place: the mystery of Theomitus¡¯ siblings, the reason the trials were retired, the hiding away of the Ignaleos Cor.


    ¡°Commander Cel¡¯a told me of him, brother. This must be the tomb of lost princes; all those who failed the trials.¡±


    Axion looked around. ¡°There are so many of them.¡±


    ¡°It is a hard sight to see,¡± Cipher said.


    ¡°How could there be so many when it was so easy?¡±


    ¡°We are not home yet, Axion,¡± said Mitakahn.


    At the center of the courtyard was the final room. They could all see now that there was a circular barrier inside. Upon closer inspection they could not only see through it but they could touch it too, truly bizarre. The barrier resembled glowing glass.


    ¡°Coming here the portal consumed us. This time I think we have to press forward, break through.¡±


    Axion put his hand on the bubble. After a little pressure he was able to push it through. Mitakahn took a deep breath and put both hands on the bubble, getting ready to submerge himself entirely.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Cipher stopped them.


    Mitakahn pulled himself off of the bubble and could feel a tingling sensation course through his skin, racing a chill up his spine.


    Cipher explained, ¡°There¡¯s something I feel I should mention. I might already know what we are about to walk into and its nothing good. It''s one of the elements I was able to extract from my experiments and it is highly toxic. I¡¯ve been looking around for it this whole time and haven¡¯t found it. It would make sense that its right near the exit.


    ¡°Once we are through, the portal will start to close. Do not trust anything you see inside. My father told me that this is the hardest part of the trial. This room will tempt you with ideas that could keep you here forever. You must not fall for it. If we stick together and get through this unscathed then we will be blessed with the rite of the Ignaleos Cor.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. For every person it is different.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not saying much,¡± said Axion.


    ¡°We are running out of time. Remember, don¡¯t breathe until we are back home.¡±


    ¡°Heaven''s sake,¡± Axion sighed.


    ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Ready!¡±


    They pressed into the bubble. It was not easy. It felt like trying to run underwater. They pushed through to the other side where the blue smog mixed with the cold flames of the gem-portal. The path was short. Cipher led the way. As they passed, the princes saw a scene they could not look away from.


    Theomitus was in his bed coughing, unable to sleep, stirring uncomfortably, a scene Axion had been all too familiar with at this point. The king moved his head away from them revealing the blue veins on his neck. Mitakahn identified the hint and went after the bait.


    He suddenly became overly aware of the fact that they had still learned nothing of what ails the king inside the Corscape, the whole reason for making the trip in the first place. And now, that trip was almost over. He had to think quickly and bring something back with him to reality. Something that Theomitus might have come into contact with all those many years ago. Unable to communicate to his brother, Axion tried to stop him. In the scuffle they were separated from Cipher who was taken back through the gem-portal. Axion watched in horror as the portal started closing behind Cipher.


    Axion and Mitakahn looked at each other. They were stuck and running out of air. Axion would have made it out if it wasn¡¯t for Mitakahn. But something in Mitakahn¡¯s eyes bothered Axion. He looked at his brother as they both drowned in the noxious fumes. Mitakahn didn¡¯t care anymore. He was on a different path now. Axion panicked. What was he doing? Axion watched Mitakahn close his eyes and open his mouth.


    ¡°MITAKAHN, NO!¡± Axion screamed out, unintentionally opening his mouth as well.


    The two princes inhaled the smoke, falling to their knees. Axion crawled over to Mitakahn who was wretching on the ground. His little brother¡¯s eyes glowed with blue flames and the veins under his skin crawled with the same inked color. Axion screamed in rage as the portal finished closing in front of them, leaving them stuck in the Corscape.


    The smog concentrated together in the center of the room. A dark figure with a crown conjured out of smoke stood before both princes, as they gasped for air. The smoky hands reached down under both of the princes¡¯ chins, lifting their faces, forcing them to look up.


    Mitakahn was horrified. He did not want to see the face of death. The light from above the dark figure became too bright to bear. Mitakahn felt his consciousness slipping, like chills collecting in his heart until it burst through his chest. A flash of the silhouette hid in the echoes of his memory as everything faded to black.

 Chapter 5: Coming to Terms

    CHAPTER 5 ¨C COMING TO TERMS


    When Mitakahn woke up he was in his bed, back home at the citadel. His mother was by his side, pressing his forehead with a warm cloth.


    ¡°Is this real?¡± Mitakahn asked.


    ¡°This is home. You are safe.¡± Ady¨¢na said.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°What happened is you almost got us both killed.¡± Axion interrupted.


    Axion was standing in the doorway of Mitakahn¡¯s chambers, clad in his crimson velvet resting garbs. He was in recuperation just like Mitakahn.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ax.¡±


    ¡°We got out alive, that is all that matters.¡±


    ¡°Does father know what we did?¡± Mitakahn asked the queen.


    That¡¯s when they heard his voice clear from the other corner of the room. King Theomitus was with them. He walked up to his family and addressed them as their patriarch.


    ¡°Who do you think saved both your asses?¡±


    Axion and Mitakahn both gazed at their father in awe.


    ¡°It appears as though the excitement of mustering what little power I had left to save you two has brought me a side-effect of clarity. Mercinestor is lucky Commander Cel¡¯a had the wisdom to inform me when she did.¡±


    Mitakahn was trying to put it all together in his head. If Commander Cel¡¯a was with them the entire time, she must¡¯ve had one of her royal guards inform the king. And if that were so, it meant she had the insight to give the guard specific orders, believing their journeying into the Corscape to be a certainty. Was Mitakahn really that predictable?


    ¡°You two unknowingly participated in a ritual that you had no business attempting,¡± said Theomitus. ¡°As much as I would like to tell you that it has no part to play in my current condition it also may very well be the cause. And now that same corner of your fate has been unlocked whether you like it or not. Now you will be tested with power and influence. Pray you make the right choices for the consequences will be severe.¡±


    Mitakahn was blown away at the old Theomitus resurfacing. How could he still be in there after all that has happened? Mitakahn did not understand.


    Was this another secret? He decided right then and there. He could not let it stand, any of it. No matter how dismal the future looked. The hard truth was that the kingdom could not afford to let major secrets die with the king. Someone had to push through the delicate nature of the subject. Mitakahn was just that person. And now was the time to push, while the king still had all of his faculties. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Axion tried to explain. ¡°Father, we were just looking for a way to cure you¨C¡±


    ¡°How could you never tell us you had brothers!?¡± Mitakahn interrupted.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡± the Queen admonished.


    Axion put his face in his hand, afraid to look.


    ¡°Oh, Mitakahn. The Arkenoir House is too old to be without secrets. My siblings abandoned our house, so I let the pages of history forget them. Maybe I went a little too far keeping them from you two. Look, the fact is it¡¯s my fault we¡¯re in this predicament to begin with. That being said, you should have consulted me first,¡± Theomitus hesitated for a second, reluctant to continue, knowing what he was about to admit, ¡°But I understand that moments of lucidity like these are getting harder and harder to come by. I am beginning to think that there is no cure for this. Least of all in the Cor.¡±


    Axion felt that last note deep in his gut. He got caught chasing down the wrong lead and it looked like all he accomplished was the waste of precious time.


    ¡°Father,¡± Axion hesitated, ¡°What is going to happen to us? What is the Ignaleos Cor?¡±


    King Theomitus spared them any further torment and got right to the point. ¡°The Ignaleos Cor is not from this realm, boys. It is something otherworldly. It is a terrifying power that tests your worthiness and then judges that worth.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Through fate and what it gives. If the gift becomes a curse, then you have failed.¡±


    Mitakahn looked at Axion and his older brother actively ignored him. Neither wanted to ask the next logical question.


    It didn¡¯t matter. The question of Theomitus¡¯ curse filled the room.


    ¡°Have you both such little faith left in your old man to think I failed with my power?¡±


    Mitakahn had trouble finding his words.


    Theomitus exhaled. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you.¡±


    ¡°Do not give up on us, my love!¡± the queen cried out.


    ¡°Never. Even if I can no longer draw breath, I will never give up on you three. In life or death, I will always be there,¡± the king smiled, ¡°That¡¯s my power.¡±


    Axion saw his mother start to tear up so he went to her side. Ady¨¢na grabbed him by the arm and together they walked out of the room, as he reassured her, ¡°If father can rebound to save our lives, he can do it to save himself too. There is still hope.¡±


    A warm moment for Mitakahn to see before his world came crashing down again.


    ¡°A word, Mitakahn¡­¡±


    The young prince froze. That tone. Those three words. A combination that sent tremors forth from his past. Whenever Mitakahn misbehaved he risked his father¡¯s punishment, always heralded by that very same tone. For what might be the last time ever, he feared his father¡¯s voice. King Theomitus walked over to his son.


    ¡°Axion informed me of your expulsion from the academy.¡±


    Mitakahn was speechless. He had nearly forgotten. Worse even, he had nothing good to say and wouldn¡¯t do his father the disservice of coming up with excuses.


    ¡°Aside from the day I lost my father, I have never been more destroyed.¡±


    If Mitakahn had nothing to say before he might as well be a mute now. He couldn¡¯t believe it. His father the king mustered what was left of his willpower only to profess his utter disappointment. It struck Mitakahn where he could not defend. The king validated the prince¡¯s core insecurity: he was not good enough. Theomitus left the room and Mitakahn to digest what had happened and pick up all the pieces.

 Chapter 6: King with a Fabled Past

    CHAPTER 6 ¨C KING WITH A FABLED PAST


    Time withered on, and with each day life struggled and squirmed under the shadow of disease and despair, with a pale sun on the horizon. Mitakahn was heartbroken. By the time he reached his father everything had changed. All hope was lost.


    It was not a matter of health, but willpower. After fighting for so long against his unknown ailment, it took everything to keep up what little defenses he had left. Theomitus had only gotten worse since Mitakahn returned home and now it was at an all-time low.


    Mitakahn¡¯s expulsion, that total letdown served as a wicked external force, consuming the last of the King¡¯s resilience. But Mitakahn did his best not to let that get to him. Mitakahn endured, as his father did. He kept his chin up with his father, for his father. He would not leave his father¡¯s side out of both savor and penance.


    The king did not want to sit still. Theomitus was a courageous king and a valiant warrior. He spent little time talking in his weakened state. Mitakahn could only guess at what thoughts assailed the king¡¯s mind. Perhaps he spent all his time wondering and reminiscing. And there it was¡­ The end of the sentence, the answer to the equation. In the question of the chaos of the human brain as it withers away: at first you look to the future and at last you look to the past. Theomitus sat lost in thought, drifting back to his days as a young warrior.


    The horns sounded and young Theomitus approached the gem-portal along with his brothers, clad with the finest armor in the nation. His fair hair feathered in the wind and his smile flickered along with his smooth blue eyes. Theomitus was brimming with pride for his family and his brother. This was his special day. It was the day of the trials. King Benethor¡¯s three oldest sons stepped forth, Theomitus, Baal, and Mitacles, heir to the throne.


    The gem-portal grew to its full size and the crowd cheered. It was time. Theomitus had no idea what to expect. Their father always enjoyed keeping his secrets regarding the trials. He was interested in how their quests would go without the influence of his own experience.


    Theomitus clutched his shield in one hand and his sword in the other. Baal went with two short swords. The transition was subtle at first. It looked like they were back in the city. The streets of Zepathorum were never to be feared. A blue shadow cast across the buildings.


    The princes looked up to find hundred foot giants stumbling into the city. Mindless drones in the shape of clumsy humans, that towered over the citadel itself, rampaged the city. Their vacant eyes hit Theomitus in the heart like steel daggers. He had to tell himself it wasn¡¯t real.


    ¡°This way!¡± Mitacles yelled to his brothers.


    They rushed through the streets ignoring the carnage all around them. Trying their best to avoid direct contact with the giants they slipped through the buildings and alleys to get to the citadel. In no time, they were climbing the spiral staircase up the citadel tower. At the top they sprung the hatch to the pointed roof. Mitacles stood with his brothers closely over his shoulders and surveyed Zepathorum. The giants were demolishing the city. They had to act quickly before there was nothing left. There was a brief hesitation in Mitacles¡¯ step. Theomitus couldn¡¯t imagine what his brother was thinking about. With the burden being off of Theomitus he was able to assess the situation free of any added pressure.


    ¡°When they pass we need to jump onto them.¡± Mitacles began to plan.


    ¡°We can try to use one to harm or run into the others,¡± suggested Baal.


    ¡°This cannot be the trial, we need to keep our eyes open for the real clue.¡±


    ¡°Follow our lead, Theomitus and keep your head in the game,¡± ordered Mitacles.


    The giants stampeded around town in no discernable pattern. It was impossible to predict when they would come for the citadel. One tragically missed the tower and fell into Lake Niobi sending most of the water splashing from the lake. As the giant started to get back up it dug out a gemstone.


    ¡°It¡¯s there, it¡¯s right there!¡± Theomitus yelled out pointing at the gem.


    His brothers had no time for his distractions.


    ? ? ?


    Mitakahn and Theomitus sat down in the fields of the royal gardens with the lions. Although they were wild animals, an old respect filled their hearts for the royal family. Some ancient property gave the family the ability to walk amongst such alpha predators. The orthodox of the kingdom believed these lions to be the descendants of the mighty Magnanimous. The lion god¡¯s descendants mixed into the local prides of the Serengeti. That bloodline of lion lived in harmony with the Arkenoir House, back to the first days of the kingdom.


    The older female, Gabriella, rubbed her giant forehead under Mitakahn¡¯s chin and then sat by Theomitus¡¯ side, as if she was guarding him. She sniffed the air, scanning the troubled king, sensing the dark force that was within him.


    Mitakahn got up and played with Maximus, a rambunctious young male lion. His mane was not yet fully grown in but he acted like head of the pride. Theomitus watched as Mitakahn wrestled the friendly lion.


    Maximus got pinned by Mitakahn and tried to kick out of his hold, scratching the prince¡¯s leg. Mitakahn backed off and covered the minor wound. The basilisk back at the Sacred Lands did far worse, but he still bled. As a boy, Mitakahn quickly became accustomed to superficial wounds when playing with the lions. Theomitus watched the prince struggle with the pain. He did not move to help him, he wanted to, but he couldn¡¯t. He sat in a trance, getting pulled back by his thoughts.


    The heir to the throne had to do his best in the trials. Theomitus¡¯ older brother Prince Mitacles stood at the top of the citadel tower waiting for a giant with the eyes of starbursts to lumber by. He jumped with his sword out. His brother Baal stood on the roof and watched in horror.


    He would have to work up the nerve to make the leap himself next. They would not get a better chance than this. Baal jumped and began his climb up the side of the enormous brute. At the summit was Prince Mitacles getting to his feet. It was now a straight shot to the giant¡¯s neck. If he can get to the neck he might be able to bring it down.


    Mitacles helped Baal up. He took pride in being able to make the charge together. And then his line of thought took him to the missing one, to Theomitus who was nowhere to be found. Theomitus had left the city altogether. He ignored the attacking giants and descended into the empty lake. There at the bottom, in the glow of the Ignaleos Cor a bubble surrounded the gem. He knew this was the right way, but his brothers were in too deep in the wrong direction. So, Theomitus decided to complete the trials himself.


    As Theomitus pushed his way into the bubble, Mitacles and Baal charged at the neck of the giant. The wind was the only warning they got during their charge of the massive hand coming to swat them away. Baal got thrown off the edge while Mitacles was pinned between the hand and its neck. His sword dug into his own leg. Mitacles screamed out in pain.


    Baal pulled himself higher and higher up the giant¡¯s arm in an attempt to get back to his older brother. Theomitus watched Mitacles from within the threshold of the gem. He watched as Baal failed to climb back up. Theomitus had the Ignaleos Cor in reach. All he had to do was take it and they would win, but it would be the third-born son anointed for the crown.


    Theomitus had no desire for the crown. He was here to help his brother achieve his birthright. It was hard for him to accept it, but the only way he could help Mitacles now was to turn back.


    Theomitus stopped and redirected towards the city where Mitacles was still pinned in pain. The giant¡¯s hand released its grip on its own neck and Mitacles tumbled, out of control. Baal reached out and grabbed his brother¡¯s arm. He held tight. Theomitus worked his way from the center of the bubble back to their side.


    Mitacles sprung awake and took hold of Baal ¡°Swing me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Swing me over.¡±


    ¡°You dropped your sword. Your leg looks broken.¡±


    ¡°I must win this.¡±


    ¡°MITACLES, NO!¡±


    Baal tried to stop him, but it was of no use. Mitacles pushed off his good leg in a desperate lunge for the giant. He pulled a dagger out in midair but was once again swatted down to the ground.


    The trials stopped.


    It sounded like a mill turning off, a stone and wooden wheel machine slowly grinding to a halt. The cerulean city vanished and Theomitus exhaled. The bubble popped and he spun out of balance, coughing heavily. Theomitus and Baal were dropped next to Mitacles¡¯ limp body. Theomitus reached for his older brother whose eyes were closed. They would never open again. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ? ? ?


    Mitakahn wiped the wet tears off his leg and embraced his father. Theomitus wept in Mitakahn¡¯s arms and mumbled incoherently. He begged his son for forgiveness, but Mitakahn could not understand him. The lions circled around the two and rubbed their giant furry heads into the prince¡¯s shoulder. The endearing cats showed their affection with subtle nudges. The prince wanted to break form and cry with his father, but he did not. He rubbed his back and let the king continue.


    Mitakahn escorted the king out of the courtyard. He walked on his own, as if driven by his very will rather than physical strength. Mitakahn wondered how his king was doing this and what powerful darkness could hobble a spirit such as his father¡¯s. Mitakahn could never truly get his mind away from that inquiry. Some things you just can¡¯t let go.


    He grew anxious and angry, never had there been a case like this of sickness inside their kingdom. The king showed no physical signs like cuts or sores. But he was pale as a ghost and as skinny as a shriveled old man. His bones popped and crackled as if they were going to break at any moment. Mitakahn did not know where they were walking, but he followed his father. He followed his father because it was one of the most inherent and comfortable actions he knew. Mitakahn would follow his father, his king, his hero, to the ends of the world and back if he could.


    Mitakahn stopped his father at the head of the stairs. He helped the king down the stairs and had a guard open the gate that separated the downtown district from the Citadel courtyard. Theomitus¡¯ meandering path led them to the outdoor market. Everyone stopped what they were doing and bowed to the king and his prince.


    He walked over to one of the farmers who was trying to sell his tanglefruit. They resembled a miniature star bursting forth from all sides, beautiful yet tough yellow-orange skin on the outside, and a juicy pink succulent inside. They were indigenous to the north and the Serengeti only. He kneeled down beside him and whispered into his ear. Mitakahn thought he heard the last couple words.


    ¡°-sting glory of our kingdom.¡±


    But it wasn¡¯t enough to make sense of it. The farmer shook his head ¡°yes¡± and stood, trying to cover his face as a tear rolled down his cheek. The king walked out of the market down a path which led to the beach. Mitakahn lingered, wondering to himself, ¡®what did he say to that man that he could not say to me?¡¯


    Mitakahn took the king all the way along the beach as they looked out across Lake Niobi. Theomitus loved the beach. Something about sitting on a sandy bed and looking out at a horizon supported by the watery depths appealed to Theomitus. If he was ever taking a break from the throne room he would normally be found on Niobi Beach. He sat down on the sand bed and looked into the reflection of the sky in the lake. He couldn¡¯t help but have his mind wander off again.


    ? ? ?


    There was little to no talk concerning who would inherit the throne between brothers after the passing of Prince Mitacles. Theomitus lost track of the days as he quested abroad. He spent time with the horse lords at Metuchen beach where he fell in love with one of the western princesses. Theomitus convinced her to visit the Pride with him. When Theomitus returned to his home it was a different place from when he left. An odd gloom cast over the Serengeti giving Princess Ady¨¢na no cause to fall in love with the North. Theomitus presented his betrothed to his father for his blessing and got something else back that he did not expect.


    ¡®We must talk at once, Theomitus.¡±


    Theomitus read the room. ¡°Where is my brother, Baal?¡±


    ¡°During your diplomatic missions,¡± the King explained, ¡°Baal has all but resigned his duties as first general of the army and heir to the throne.¡±


    ¡°I must speak with him.¡±


    ¡°We will let you know when we find him,¡± the King said.


    ¡°I cannot believe things have gotten this bad.¡±


    ¡°This kingdom needs a ruler when I am gone.¡±


    Theomitus looked up at his father and then at Adyana. Where he had lost two brothers he gained a spouse and the start of his own family. ¡°This kingdom will always have a ruler.¡± He bowed to the King, ¡°This, I promise you, father.¡±


    Not long after Theomitus married Ady¨¢na, King Benethor passed away. Their only regret was him not being able to meet his grandchildren. Theomitus became the next king of the Pride. He kept most things the same as when his father ruled. There was one significant change.


    As King Theomitus walked down Crimson Boulevard after his coronation, the crowd all kneeling before him, he sought out one specific warrior. Lion Kingdom custom dictated that every new king was allowed to select his own commander of the royal guard.


    Well, Theomitus never thought he would be king, but he did often think that one brave warrior in particular was constantly being overlooked for the royal guard. This never did sit well with Theomitus, no. And now, he was in a position to do something about it, an opportunity to right certain wrongs.


    He got down close and said to his soldier, ¡°You are a lion of the Pride. Stand with me and take your place in the everlasting glory of our kingdom.¡±


    He placed the tip of his sword from shoulder to shoulder and Cel Adora arose as the Commander of the Royal Guard. She walked with him for the rest of the parade, side by side, along with Queen Adyana and the rest of the prominent figures of the kingdom. Cel¡¯a felt the people cheer for her and the new king. It filled her heart with love for the throne and the Arkenoir House.


    Weeks later King Theomitus would ask her to risk her life. She accompanied him to Rosi Island. The new Pride Lorde opened the gem-portal for an unsanctioned journey. He stood before the churning doorway with his companions Commander Cel¡¯a and Mercinestor Casterosi.


    ¡°Are you sure about this, my king?¡±


    ¡°Your father ended the trials, what point would be served by risking another visit?¡±


    King Theomitus took his time giving the answer, ¡°This is a crazy world we live in, there is no denying it. Curses are tenacious, finding all sorts of ways to latch onto your legacy. Right now, I can see the clear and present danger of leaving this rite unfulfilled. I will not hand down my legacy without first resolving the problems our generation caused.¡±


    ¡°Now that is a reason I can fight for.¡±


    ¡°We end this once and for all¡­tonight.¡±


    King Theomitus took Lord Mercinestor and Commander Adora through the gem-portal, back into the fray of the trials.


    ? ? ?


    Mitakahn threw a rock into the lake and waited for the water to ripple from the impact. Theomitus watched the prince toss the stone with all of his might into the horizon. The sun set Theomitus¡¯ shadow over Mitakahn. The prince felt the comfort of a presence he had been able to count on since birth, and it felt good. Mitakahn feared that his father was losing his mind. He hadn¡¯t spoken in days. He only whispered and mumbled what everyone considered nonsense. Who knew what he was thinking?


    Mitakahn would try every day to talk to his father, really talk to him; confront him with the reality of the situation, but he could never find the right words, or the right time. He could never bring himself to admit that his father was going to die. Let alone make him aware of that fact. Instead, they walked together in silence. Sometimes the king would have to lean on the prince. Sometimes he could walk alone. But the day would soon come where he needed Mitakahn to carry him everywhere, and then the day where he could not move at all. The bright days of the kingdom had long since disappeared. Soon times would seem bleaker than ever.


    The two returned to the Citadel. ¡°I want to go to the throne room, Mitakahn¡± requested the King. A simple phrase, as though he had been able to talk with ease.


    ¡°As you wish, father...¡±


    They climbed the stairs to the uppermost floors of the tower. It took them a while but soon they reached the throne room. The room was empty. The governing and rule of the kingdom was being controlled by Axion and Queen Ady¨¢na from the council room, below them. Theomitus could sit in peace on his throne for his remaining days.


    Mitakahn sat by Theomitus¡¯ feet thinking about his childhood, how he used to do this all the time. The King had spent most of his time with his advisors in the throne room, making new laws and tough decisions. Mitakahn as a small child would sit along with him on the throne, below his mighty grip playing with his giant golden ring hanging overhead. Besides that, Mitakahn spent much of his time in the gardens as a boy. He would run along with the royal lions while his mother picked cascadaleas and dover tulips.


    Mitakahn remembered when he used to get yelled at for trying to wrestle with the lions. ¡°They play rough, Mitakahn,¡± his parents would tell him, ¡°too rough for you.¡± But that never really stopped him.


    Instead, Ady¨¢na would put Mitakahn on top of the oldest male lion, Raja. Raja was the only shadow lion in the Pride. Theomitus would later reveal to his sons, he found the cub wandering the Serengeti when he had first become king. Orthodox members of the kingdom saw it as a bad omen. Theomitus reveled the animal¡¯s eccentricity.


    Being different didn¡¯t make the lion any less majestic. Just as bountiful as the other lions¡¯ manes, Raja showed his magna-crimson shine along the edges of his black hair. The golden blond fur customary for lions only outlined Raja and highlighted his mane. Mitakahn specifically remembered his father telling them as kids that finding Raja finally made Theomitus feel at ease with taking the throne. A lion was not supposed to be golden, a king was supposed to be firstborn. He had been a loyal companion ever since.


    The king¡¯s companion watched over both Axion and Mitakahn when they were toddlers. He walked with them through the markets and towns when they were young children as their own personal bodyguard. Raja treated the two young princes as though they were his own cubs. And no one would dare trifle with the shadow lion. Raja gave this particular generation of the Arkenoir House quite the reputation.


    In the few times Theomitus had to ride into battle during his reign as king, he did not use a horse like other modern kings. He was akin with the kings of old. He rode Raja without a saddle out of respect for the animal.


    Theomitus and Raja would customarily challenge the leaders of bandits or encroaching warlords to a duel before battle. If accepted, Theomitus would always claim victory with the help of Raja. There were ample times where, thanks to Raja, many soldiers of the lion kingdom¡¯s lives were saved.


    Mitakahn remembered when Raja died and how it affected his father. Theomitus was heartbroken. Mitakahn realized that was the first time he really remembered dealing with death. Memories of his father pulling him aside, with water-filled eyes but no tears, telling him, ¡®Death is a natural part of life, Mitakahn. We all must accept it in our own time. But trust me when I say this¡­Life¡¯s journey does not end in death. Not even for poor Raja. And it will not end in death for me or you either, not if you don¡¯t want it to.¡±

 Chapter 7: A Knight from the West

    CHAPTER 7 ¨C A KNIGHT FROM THE WEST


    The day grew late. Theomitus had fallen asleep in his throne. Mitakahn was too emotional to stir the king awake. Theomitus had not been able to sleep for days. So the prince let him rest and went for a walk by himself outside. On his own time during the night, he walked the beach of Lake Niobi, which bordered the southern edge of his city. Mitakahn used this as a quiet way to release his despair.


    He didn¡¯t want to be a part of it anymore. He wanted to run away and not be who he had to be. At the peak of his despair a tear ran down Mitakahn¡¯s cheek and got lost in his beard. He rubbed his face and looked up. He looked up for something, anything to help him through this tough time, help so he would never feel alone. And in that moment he found a figure in the moonlight reflected off the lake, walking a horse on the beach. It was his Uncle Anilithy¨¬stad (Anilith-y-istat) Borigini, Queen Ady¨¢na¡¯s younger brother. He was the future king of Metuchen Point and the Steed Kingdom. Anilithy¨¬stad was also a knight of the Silver Den, one of Mitakahn¡¯s few relatives to attend the same school as him.


    Metuchen Point was the old home of Ady¨¢na and her family¡¯s kingdom. Anilithy¨¬stad along with his father, King Avalahn, ruled the western beaches. The great kingdom of Metuchen was the capital of the Steed Kingdom. Metuchen was made up of a tremendous palace on the shore that ended on the water with a lighthouse. To the eastern end the massive hall stretched into a ranch with gates and horse trails as far as the eye could see, until eventually, remaining on an eastern pursuit, the landscape turned into a jungle thicket.


    This thicket stood as the border between the horse kingdom and the rest of the world, making it one of the outer rim nations. Along with the Lion and Stag Kingdoms, they made up the last three monarchies in all the land. The capital of the ShoreLands was named Metuchen Point after the lighthouse built to help lost travelers find their way. The lighthouse rivaled the Zepathorum Citadel, where it housed the royal family and the kingdom¡¯s throne.


    Other nations mocked the Steed Kingdom as a primitive culture, but the Shorelanders were outstandingly progressive in many of their customs, even though their fundamental beliefs have always remained traditional. An outsider could never perceive that. Natives to the shore found the best quality of life being as in touch with the natural world as possible.


    King Avalahn, Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s father, still ruled Metuchen as king, but had long since given all responsibilities to Anilithy¨¬stad. Taking an early retirement would enable his son to get ahead of the game and learn firsthand what it was like to rule a kingdom while he was still young. Upon hearing of Adyana¡¯s tragedy, Avalahn decided to come out of retirement so Anilithy¨¬stad could go to his sister¡¯s aid. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Mitakahn looked at the mighty warrior walking his stallion as he came into focus under the moonlight. Anilithy¨¬stad stood before him.


    ¡°I have come to you, now¡­ nephew, in the darkest of days. In these grave times we must remember that clear thought and right judgment matter most.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad was a friendly and compassionate uncle to the boys growing up. He was playful and a shoulder to cry on. He treated his nephews from another kingdom as warmly as his own kin. But that was just one side of him. This same man was also a fierce and feared warrior amongst the eight kingdoms. He was severe when he needed to be and brandished the familial Borigini temper when cornered.


    He shared many similar facial features with Mitakahn¡¯s mother. His thick brown hair, identical eyes, and yet his tough exterior granted him the opposite image of Ady¨¢na. His broad shoulders and rigid chest gave him a look as hard as stone. Anilithy¨¬stad was dressed in a black leather tunic, with brown chain mail underneath it. It looked as though he was dressed for battle. Maybe he thought the war that was raging here was one he could actually fight with fist and sword. But lo, it was an unwinnable battle that he was walking into; and Mitakahn could attest to that. Mitakahn was still too wrenched in agony to speak. So Anilithy¨¬stad sat down beside his nephew and they both watched the moonlit lake in silence.


    Some time went by. Mitakahn tucked his head down and tried to clean his face of his tears without Uncle Anilithy¨¬stad seeing his weakness. But Anilithy¨¬stad was well aware, without looking, of why his grief-stricken nephew was sitting alone on a twilight beach.


    ¡°It¡¯s all going to be okay.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that¡± responded Mitakahn, ¡°You don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I think you misunderstood me¡­¡± Anilithy¨¬stad explained, ¡°Your father may die, we all die. Life goes on.¡±


    ¡°Not my life,¡± rebutted Mitakahn, ¡°I don¡¯t want a life without my father.¡±


    ¡°I understand, Mitakahn, and nothing I say can change how you feel,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad tried to reason with him, ¡°but you will find your way¡­¡±


    After that short conversation they went back to silence. Anilithy¨¬stad didn¡¯t want to upset Mitakahn any further. Hopefully, his words had found a spot and sunk into Mitakahn¡¯s heart, even if he was not eager to accept it. In any matter, they sat comfortably in the sand and stared at an encroaching darkness beneath the night sky.


    Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s horse gave a short whinny and nudged the back of his head. He turned around to see a single window lit in the citadel tower, his sister¡¯s room. Anilithy¨¬stad turned back around, ¡°Let us go back to your great hall and think this through. There is still hope, brave prince, do not get lost in your sorrows just yet¡­.¡± The wise knight grabbed his horse¡¯s reins, and they walked on the beach, three in a row, back to the citadel.

 Chapter 8: No Stone Left Unturned

    CHAPTER 8 ¨C NO STONE LEFT UNTURNED


    The Horse Prince¡¯s arrival at the Citadel was always somewhat contemptuous. At the very core of their relationship, Anilithy¨¬stad and Theomitus were rivals. After all, Theomitus had stolen Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s sister away from their home. But in such dire times, all prior squabbles were easily put aside. Anilithy¨¬stad tapped into the entire weight of Metuchen¡¯s resources to find a cure for his brother-in-law. Another round of mediciners and doctors, even shaman priests from the western shores, examined Theomitus'' rare disease.


    Mitakahn was grateful for this, because now he was present for all of the consultations and could ask the proper questions that needed asking, from his point of view, the practical approach and beyond. Mitakahn prided himself on thinking outside the box where others could not. Such as Axion, who sat on the other side of the table mostly silent but nodded his head at what the professionals were saying. He¡¯d heard the answers before. None of it mattered much.


    It was a whole lot of ruling out other known diseases like plactack and larynxia, silent killers. The doctors discussed diseases that matched the symptoms, diseases that caused the organs to rot from the inside out. Each one could be traced back to an external source, meaning people didn¡¯t just die without contracting the diseases first, by blood or inhalation, or even digestion. People who die of larynxia spend too long in the mines and the smoke does it to them. Plactack you have to either inherit or develop from over-exposure to carbon-based nutrients. Neither of which applied to the lifestyle of the Pride King.


    ¡°What if it is an undiscovered disease?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    Everyone looked over at him. The mediciners were visibly confused. One just kept staring at Mitakahn without blinking..


    ¡°Then we will have no way to detect or treat it.¡±


    ¡°Paradoxia.¡±


    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Mitakahn


    ¡°It¡¯s the name given to diseases that are formed by their symptoms first, of origin unknown.¡±


    ¡°This is why the practice of medicine defies reason,¡± said Mitakahn. ¡°You spend all your time labeling definitions of your choosing and calling them facts.¡±


    ¡°Not all of the time, we research and collect, and then we educate.¡±


    ¡°So now the king is a lesson?¡± Mitakahn antagonized.


    ¡°The information we gather here might save the lives of countless others in the future.¡±


    Theomitus smiled from across the room. Up until now the king sat there expressionless, causing everyone to doubt if he was paying attention. Queen Ady¨¢na held his hand earnestly. She paid careful attention to every word. The Queen was good at being royalty. Her face was a mask. Only those closest to her could read the desperate emotions hidden behind her reassuring facade.


    ¡°Paradoxia has always been more than that definition to me. It is a terrifying reality, the idea of a terminal disease that could come from nothing and consume you. If there is a cause, my king, we simply do not have the technology advanced enough to identify it. We are limited to our times, and because of that we fail you.¡±


    The mediciner bowed before the king who leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder. Anilithy¨¬stad walked him out. After another long day of testing and lack of diagnosis, Paradoxia was the closest thing they had. Deep down Mitakahn knew what the mediciner said was true. They just weren¡¯t there yet, but maybe with what Cipher and Axion were planning there could be a safer future ahead of them with the Ignaleos Cor. Just not one Mitakahn¡¯s father would see.


    Mitakahn urged his uncle to tap into the other kingdoms through the knighthood for their physicians and mediciners. He obliged and from far and wide they came at the behest of their rulers.


    Through the proper channels the Silver Den was able to influence many different sovereigns into sending support. Some made it more public than others in a petty attempt to destabilize an already unstable monarchy. Some purely didn¡¯t care. Others were old allies and sent their best.


    Even the senate sent their most learned mediciners. They thought it was magiscer that plagued the king, caused by prolonged exposure to magic. Certain sects of scientists theorized that the MagnaThoran magic gave off a radiation that could prove lethal over time. Many dismissed this due to Crucifire Plains and their notorious big city bias against the ancient ways, no broader an expression could be found than their definition of the word magic.


    The bottom line was no one could prove anything, so no one could cure the king. Hope was depleting like the last candle running out of wax in a windowless room. Every day the king looked worse and worse. His skin tightened into leather. His body ate its own fat and muscle to prolong the inevitable. Some of the more naive mediciners tried to blindly cure him.


    The king drank toadroot tea that smelled of the swamps and sweaty feet. Mitakahn wondered how he could even drink it if the smell alone was enough to make one vomit. But the king was still mighty and strong in his own right, even while his body continued to wither away. All the remedies in the world could not stop what was happening. Options were running out.


    In the darkest of times the demon that haunted Theomitus took full control of the king¡¯s body. As he tossed in agony on the bed, his fingers clutched the bed linens, thrashing them off the bed, failing to relieve the pain of his spinal tremors. And yet his mighty soul held on through the suffering for days; lost inside. Theomitus fought to stay alive, though the family could not figure out what drove his despair. What was left besides the primal instinct to survive through endless suffering?


    The family had thought he was waiting until Mitakahn got home. Still, a couple weeks later, he held onto some sort of life.


    Mitakahn and Anilithy¨¬stad watched over the king for his remaining days while Queen Ady¨¢na and Axion ruled the kingdom. One day, Anilithy¨¬stad could not keep his suspicions to himself and bid Mitakahn to private counsel.


    ¡°What is it, uncle?¡± Mitakahn asked, as they spoke in the room alone with Theomitus sleeping in his bed.


    ¡°Mitakahn,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad spoke covertly, ¡°we cannot afford to be close-minded here. We must consider the fact that the king was poisoned.¡±


    ¡°By whom? He has no more enemies left out there.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Perhaps an attack from within¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you saying, uncle?¡±


    ¡°Is there any proof that this is not regicide?¡±


    ¡°And I suppose they¡¯re also contemplating patricide over in the congress as we speak.¡±


    They were.


    The Governor of Zepathorum, a skulking creature by the name of Demeter, was addressing the high council in an impromptu meeting to discuss the possible implications of the dying king. The royal family had no idea; even though it was illegal for the state of the kingdom to call a meeting without the crown. Demeter was up to no good, a power play at the king¡¯s expense. But he would not put his plans into action until after Theomitus was out of the picture.


    Mitakahn, unfortunately, had faith in the decency of humanity, and failed to agree with his uncle¡¯s suspicions. He could not consider any more malice in his life right now. His father was rotting away before his very eyes. Like an hourglass, the sands of his life perpetually diminished.


    Mitakahn only had so much time left with the most important person in his life. In a last testament to his father, Mitakahn vowed to take in as much as he could no matter how painful, until the last hours. He knew now that he would forever miss life without his father, and would always want to return to it, no matter the conditions.


    Mitakahn rotated through all the questions he had for his father. What he could ask. What he could not ask. What he wanted to know. What he needed to know to be able to go on. Mitakahn sat in silence and came up with one all-encompassing question to ask.


    ¡°What would you have of this family?¡±


    He stuttered to finish.


    ¡°¡­when you are gone,¡± Mitakahn cleared his throat.


    The Prince sat equal with the king, and even though his withered body sat around Mitakahn¡¯s young proud stance, the prince still looked up to his father.


    ¡°Your brother will find his way. He will find his queen and become king. Watch over your mother and finish your schooling.¡±


    Mitakahn sank in his chair. Did the king forget? There was no way to finish at the academy now, not after what he did. Part of Mitakahn wanted to say, ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s all you have for me?¡± But the prince knew¡­ It was hard enough for the broken down king to say that much, to admit his own defeat, to accept his own demise. There are just some questions that can never be answered.


    Mitakahn rubbed his bearded chin as he gave a long hard consideration of all the other unanswered questions that would go unresolved. Like why Mitakahn never knew about Theomitus¡¯ brothers. Mitakahn wanted to know what was with all of the secrecy but simply could not ask without adding on to the king¡¯s burden at this point. Instead, they stood in unsettling stillness, attempting to deal with the gloomy mood.


    Anilithy¨¬stad would quickly grow discouraged by the lack of answers he was getting. There was not enough medical technology or knowledge to identify his illness. It was almost supernatural. And Anilithy¨¬stad would not take his brother-in-law to the warlocks, for he was still a king. And they were known for fooling around in dark arts and drew their power from NetherRealm. The King¡¯s life was too important to be sustained through precarious means. They had no other choice but to do nothing. That was all they could do. There were special elixirs and even ambers common in the back alleys of Crucifire Plains that could ease his suffering, but the king denied such shortcuts. He endured through the full extent of the pain.


    The young prince still could not bring himself to confront his father any further in the matter of telling him outright that he was dying. This was father, the king, he would fight it and win. The rest of the family had the same morale, but Mitakahn knew it was useless and couldn¡¯t bring himself to reveal the tragic truth. His grief was turning to cynicism, and it would soon turn to resentment.


    The king had become a shell of the man he used to be. Mitakahn thought this when he had first returned, but now he had been around long enough to take full stock of the piece of his father that was missing. The part of the king¡¯s personality that comforted Mitakahn most, the wisdom, the bravery, the hero inside him was gone. And now, everything else was rapidly deteriorating. Mitakahn saw a defeated imposter take his father''s place. He knew it was his father, he could still see him trapped within the piercing eyes. Mitakahn would stay with him, no matter how horrible it felt.


    Mitakahn tried to be with his king every step of the way. Almost as if repeating his own mental vows, Mitakahn repeated to himself, ¡°¡­carry him when he cannot walk. Sit with him so he is not alone.¡± No matter how hard it hurt, the prince had just cause.


    Back at the academy, Mitakahn had expressed his concern with where a second-born son belongs in the world. Now he knew. He found his purpose, even if it was for the time being. His place was right by his father¡¯s side when everyone else had enough. When his mother and brother needed time to themselves to regroup, Mitakahn was there so his father never had to be alone in the darkness.


    In the late hours of the king¡¯s life, many came to his bedside to bid their final goodbye. Mitakahn struggled with the idea of saying goodbye. Often they would both sit in awkward silence, not knowing what to say, trying to just enjoy life, the moment at hand, and being together. Mitakahn wondered what his king was waiting for.


    ? ? ?


    On a very clear night, the air heavy and tainted, a figure cloaked in darkness crept through the streets of Zepathorum. He slipped into the Citadel and up the center tower unnoticed, approaching the king¡¯s bedchamber. It was clear, whoever he was, he did not want to be seen and knew exactly how to subvert the royal guard. The stranger entered the king¡¯s chambers and Mitakahn sat against the wall on a chair next to the window, eyes shut. Away in some far off place winning the battle and saving the girl. The soft curtains blew gently on his cheek, polishing a lunar mask upon his slumbering face.


    As the full moon shone across the sky with the stars in the midst of their seasonal chant it gave the cloaked man a chance to look at the exhausted prince. Anilithy¨¬stad confronted the mysterious newcomer silently. They uttered a few words close together. Anilithy¨¬stad bowed to the stranger and left the room. The man walked over to the window after he put out the one candle lighting the room. He slowly measured up the unaware Mitakahn, sitting in the chair fast asleep. The man stared at Mitakahn and wondered what happened to the years. A cynical twist of fate had turned on this world, one he will never understand. And that was why, perhaps, he walked in the shadow, afraid of all things real.


    He blessed the prince and slipped a bound up pouch into the pocket of his tunic, and patted it softly, over his heart. He continued over to the king.


    ¡°I¡¯m here, Theomitus.¡± The figure stood over King Theomitus as he began to stir in his bed.


    ¡°I knew¡­.you¡­.would come,¡± Theomitus tried to smile.


    ¡°You did not have to wait for me.¡±


    ¡°I had to see you¡­.one¡­last¡­.time,¡± Theomitus squirmed in pain.


    ¡°This will not be our last time together.¡±


    ¡°Did you do it?¡± Theomitus¡¯ voice quivered, ¡°Did you give it to him?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He has it now, but he will not know why.¡±


    ¡°He will find a way.¡±


    ¡°They will both make you proud.¡±


    ¡°Thank you¡­ for¡­ showing up.¡± Theomitus feebly grasped at the visitor¡¯s sleeve.


    ¡°Easy now, rest.¡± The shrouded man took the king¡¯s hand in his, ¡°Settle your breath.¡±


    The distant kinsmen calmed the king. And then said unto him, ¡°What long years had brought our relationship to¡­ no matter what the quarrels were or who was to blame, all is forgiven and forgotten, little brother.¡± Baal Arkenoir left the citadel unnoticed, a place he once vowed never to return.

 Chapter 9: Death

    CHAPTER 9 ¨C DEATH


    His mind ran in circles, circles to escape the imminent choice: the final decision over life and death, breath and rest, consciousness, and the end. Theomitus feared the end and the off chance that there was no after. There was nothing waiting for him on the other side. Like a closed book, the end of a story.


    What if life was what you made it, and this wasn¡¯t the beginning of an even bigger journey? Merely the end¡­ No matter what the results may be, one thing was certain: this last adventure of the king¡¯s legend would be the greatest of all. Many times, before he had witnessed death from the other end, serving enemies their final judgment on the battlefield and watching family members succumb to their own fate. But now, finally he was the victim of nature¡¯s target. He was being killed by the will of the fates and combined wisdom of the universe. There was no arguing. There was no resistance.


    All that was left was one simple task. Theomitus had to let go on his own, of it all. The king has to give up his life, his bonds, his attachments, his knowledge; everything he had come to understand over his lifetime. That is what the dead have never been able to tell us¡­death is a choice. The king considered the idea, and it revolted him. He toyed with it, but he remained distant, he hesitated before the end. The days were growing darker, and it was getting too hard to hold on. King Theomitus of the Lion Kingdom nation now had one final task¡­ choosing when to die.


    Dawn breaks and the King shares his last laugh with a Priest.


    ¡®Breath, Beat¡¯


    Two chariots came for him, unbeknownst to the rest.


    ¡®Breath, Beat¡¯


    Familiar faces and ancestors. Harbingers of the Heavens


    ¡®Breath. Breath¡¯This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    His family gathered around him. Sons at both sides.


    ¡®Breath. Beat¡¯


    A small candle of life burns down within him.


    ¡®Breath. Breath. Breath. Beat¡¯


    ¡®We are all here with you.¡¯


    ¡®Breath. Beat. Breath.''


    His brain fills in euphoria.


    ¡®¡­Breath¡­Beat¡­¡¯


    Only love can he feel now, and the light shines of-


    ¡®¡­breath...¡¯


    This is it.


    ¡®¡­¡­¡­¡¯


    The king passes from this world.


    There is no grand departure or epic ascension. He just ceases to be.


    Along with the king dies certain reality, sensitivity, and morality


    And all the boy can do is sit there, in tear soaked eyes


    Move. Breathe. Live.


    Please


    ¡­Life can go on.


    I let go of his hand,


    For the last time¡­

 Chapter 10: Wake

    CHAPTER 10 ¨C WAKE


    Mitakahn opened his eyes. A shade of blue lingered in his view that he dismissed as the dawning sky. There was no looking away from the truth. It was the first day of a new life. A life he did not want to live. For a while, he would lie in bed, contemplating many things. At first he thought about the cruel humor of fate. How could he be expected to move on so quickly after such a heavy blow? And now, an entire day of events where he would have to stand in front of everyone he knows and many he doesn¡¯t, all the while keeping his composure every step of the way.


    Mitakahn stepped in front of the mirror. He stared into his eyes. He scanned his face in the reflection and did not see the same man as yesterday. He saw someone new within; someone who was hiding beneath an old face. He took out a razorblade and wet it. He brought the blade up to his cheek and began to shave off his beard, his father¡¯s beard. A beard he could grow in full since the second year of the Academy; and upon its emergence Mitakahn never wanted to remove it for the rest of his life. But his life was over, and a new one had started in its wake.


    He no longer deserved this honor. Forever, he would compare his beard with that of his father¡¯s and so did the rest of the family. Theomitus used to tell him, even though Mitakahn¡¯s coloring was dominated by his mother¡¯s Borigini heritage, hints of red, from his grandfather, King Benethor shined through on the beard, especially in the summertime.


    That always bothered Mitakahn. People told him all the time that he looked just like his father, but to be honest, for a while Mitakahn couldn¡¯t see it. He always thought he looked just like his mother and brother, and the king¡¯s fair-haired nature stood out amongst the rest. The resemblance was in Mitakahn¡¯s bones, the way his face was shaped, how his shoulders carried his body as he walked, everything about Mitakahn, aside from his dark hair and temper, bled pure Arkenoir. He was his father¡¯s son. Even if he didn¡¯t want to admit it. From hind to mind he was of his father¡¯s kind.


    But now, his father was gone, and so was his face, so Mitakahn changed into a new face. The razor burned against his flesh, as the hair fell from his face. He was nearly finished when he nicked right below the corner of his mouth. The blood quickly emerged from the small wound. He did nothing to clot it. He watched, through the looking glass, the dripping wet blood, leaving his body. Mitakahn¡¯s face turned white. He smeared his fingertips in the blood and lifted it up for a better look. Mitakahn admired the purity of blood, no convolutions, no complexities, thick red life.


    Mitakahn wiped the blood away and finally tended to his wound. He finished cleaning himself up and got his dress-robes ready for the funeral. With a dark crimson tunic and black cloak, Mitakahn would have to wear what he and his brother called their ¡°death robes¡±. That term echoed in Mitakahn¡¯s mind as he hated himself for wanting to laugh in such a grave time. And then Mitakahn thought of his brother and thought about what he was probably going through himself this morning. So, he quickly put his death robes on and looked one last time at the now clotted cut on his face before he left the room in search of his older brother.


    ? ? ?


    Anilithy¨¬stad couldn¡¯t sleep. After the King¡¯s death, and after taking care of his sister and the boys, it was hard to close his eyes. So Anilithy¨¬stad took it upon himself to tend to the most unglamorous job in the world. Anilithy¨¬stad, thinking only of his family and the fallen kingdom, tended to the fallen king. He brought Theomitus¡¯ body to its final resting place. He carried the king down the Citadel and spent the entire night crafting a coffin for him.


    Anilithy¨¬stad was a very resourceful man. He pulled golden plates and crimson cloth from the royal walls. The Royal Guard looked in on the bizarre knight from the Steed Kingdom tearing apart their sacred capital in fear for they knew the terror that would come down on them if they tried to interfere. They watched the wild knight rip the regal decor apart, until one of them finally worked up the courage to say something.


    ¡°My lord, you¡¯re not allowed to do that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re dismissed, soldier.¡±


    ¡°My lord, I do not take orders from-¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad was now in the guard¡¯s face.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go ask your Commander for orders before you find yourself on the streets.¡± His temper was getting the better of him.


    The silent guard grabbed his partner and answered for the both of them. ¡°Yes, my lord, right away.¡± They left Anilithy¨¬stad to continue.


    By sunrise, he had a magnificent casket ready to convey the King¡¯s influence and respect throughout the land; simple, yet elegant. Its glistening gold outlined the entire box. The thick flawless crimson cloth covered the polished oakenwood. Once finished Anilithy¨¬stad sat down and embroidered golden letters running across the front¡­


    ¡°PRIDE LORDE THEOMITUS THE YOUNG,


    BELOVED KING, FATHER, & HUSBAND¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad walked back up the citadel with the sun rising. He quietly entered the Queen¡¯s chamber thinking she would be sleeping, but Ady¨¢na was sitting in the dark, curtains drawn in front of her windows and balcony. The bed was made as if it was never slept in. Light from the morning sun was shining through the cracks of the curtains, giving away Ady¨¢na¡¯s condition to Anilithy¨¬stad. A tear fell through the line of light down to the floor and quietly crashed on the polished stone.


    Anilithy¨¬stad went over to her sister. She was still in the same clothes she¡¯d worn the day before. Dried tears revitalized by new ones. She didn¡¯t blink, she did not speak. In fact, she had said very little since it happened, if anything at all. Anilithy¨¬stad stood by his sister, he could try to sympathize with her, but he knew something like this was beyond him. They both knew, and that is why they stood apart, in silence. She wouldn¡¯t even look at him. Anilithy¨¬stad stood there, perhaps completely unaware to his sister, racking his mind, trying to find a way to help her cope with the pain.


    ? ? ?Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Axion awoke, and all the recent events of yesterday came rushing back to him. He sat up in his bed and only had one thing on his mind¡­. He got out of bed and walked out onto his balcony. It was hot out, the murkiness from the day before was gone, but the air was now dry, starved of humidity. He tried to think about something else, anything else really. But he could not escape the crown. He was the firstborn, and rightful heir. Mitakahn had nothing to worry about. It was Axion who inherited his father¡¯s responsibilities.


    If only he had more time with him. If only he thought enough ahead to ask him how to rule. It always came so naturally to his father. And that is why this country is his, and not Axion¡¯s. It¡¯s not right¡­ almost disrespectful to take the throne the day after his father died. That is why Axion made the decision to wait until after the funeral. For, only the gods knew how he, underneath it all, feared his upcoming responsibility. Although Axion was the firstborn and heir to the throne he resembled his mother and Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s family looks; it was Mitakahn who received the torch from the Arkenoir line. Why would the gods make Axion the heir but give the bloodline to his younger brother?


    Axion walked out of his bedchambers, half-expecting Mitakahn to come and wake him, like so many times before. But today felt different. Axion found himself alone at the entrance of the empty and dark throne room. Intimidated, he dared not go inside. He skirted around the edge of it.


    He feared his destiny as king, yet he could not escape it. His stomach clenched. He could not stop thinking about the crown.


    He was waiting for something. He did not know what. And that bothered him. Whatever had to happen needed to happen soon. The kingdom would not wait. Without a leader the nation would crumble. If Axion did not take his rightful place he would disgrace his father¡¯s memory and his family¡¯s legacy.


    Axion was on the main floor of the Citadel, in the mess hall, with the rest of the troops from the Royal Guard eating an early meal when Mitakahn finally found him. Strange that he was not in the family dining room where they normally ate thought Mitakahn; but how like Axion to want to just blend in with his fellow soldiers. Mitakahn sat beside his brother, ¡°We should probably go see Anilithy¨¬stad and find out when the family¡¯s coming in.¡±


    Axion discreetly nodded with a mouthful of food. Mitakahn continued, ¡°We should be there, you know¡­when they come in to dock.¡±


    Axion shook his head again, without once looking over at Mitakahn.


    Mitakahn looked down, searching for something to say to get a response from his brother. He looked back up at him. ¡°Food good?¡± he bluntly asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s food, Mitakahn¡± replied Axion, ¡°You should go get some.¡±


    Mitakahn shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve lost my appetite.¡±


    They both sat in silence until Axion finished. Mitakahn listened to the guards and servants on the scattered tables around them eating and chatting. Axion cleared his dish and together they both went back upstairs. Silence seemed to be a constant theme between the royal brothers now; a theme that would not relieve itself for some time. As if each one was walking alone on distant planets. Mitakahn was aware of this, but he did not fight it or deny it. So, he tried to get used to it. He used the time to clear his thoughts.


    Together, the two princes climbed the spiral stone marble staircase up to the royal chambers. Axion flashed back to times when they were young and would constantly race up the stairs. Axion would naturally beat Mitakahn, but often let him win. Today was a gruesome contrast of such fond memories. Axion was brought to a stop by his emotions and turned around. He exited the Citadel in an attempt to get away from it all. Mitakahn chased after him. ¡°Axion!¡± he screamed as he grabbed his shoulder, ¡°What has gotten into-¡±


    Axion turned around and shoved Mitakahn to the ground. He walked away from his brother without looking back. The guards standing around them looked at the prince on the floor, ready to come to his aid. Mitakahn was embarrassed¡­ embarrassed of his brother¡¯s irrational actions and his own inability to defend himself. He sat up casually and rubbed his scratched chin. Mitakahn looked down to see his dress robes blood-stained and torn. The cut from shaving must have reopened. ¡°Great!¡± he exhaled as he tried to wipe the filth off his pants. Twice his blood had been spilt today. Commander Cel¡¯a walked up behind him and helped Mitakahn up.


    ¡°What am I going to do, Commander? These are the only dress robes I have that still fit.¡±


    Cel¡¯a examined the prince¡¯s frame, and it became quite clear what to do, ¡°Why don¡¯t we go up and check your father¡¯s wardrobe? You two are similar in size, perhaps we can find something¡­¡± Cel¡¯a tread in dangerous waters. Mitakahn¡¯s reaction to her suggestion would be a clear indication of how he was coping with the loss.


    Ady¨¢na, she had seen, was still inconsolably racked with sorrow. Axion wanted nothing to do with anything; even his own brother¡¯s helping hand. Mitakahn was at least talking.


    Cel¡¯a stood almost frozen, waiting for a response, hoping that she did not insult the prince. Mitakahn thought about it for a second with a very uncertain look on his face. He then turned to Cel¡¯a and asked uncertainly, ¡°Do you think it would be a good idea?¡± He already had a run in with his older brother. What would Axion and other people think if he was seen wearing the king¡¯s clothes?


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯ll be fine, my prince,¡± Commander Adora furthered her claim, ¡°The way I see it¡­Your father left all his belongings to you and your brother, so it¡¯s yours now anyway. And Axion isn¡¯t built quite like you, my prince. You truly are your father¡¯s son-¡±


    But before Cel¡¯a could stop her knee-jerk comment, upon hearing those last words Mitakahn snapped his head down. It had struck a chord in Mitakahn and now he was trying to block his despair and cover his grief stricken face.


    ¡°Come, let us see what we can scrounge up for you to wear,¡± a new air of importance came over Cel¡¯a as she continued, ¡°Your cousins will be arriving soon, not to mention old King Avalahn and we especially do not want to keep him waiting!¡±


    ¡°Ha! You know Commander, you should not joke around about the king of the horse lords that way,¡± forewarned Mitakahn.


    ¡°You are right, my prince. We are blessed to have such allies,¡± Cel¡¯a bowed her head.


    A reunion of sorts, an international gathering of the kingdoms even, but down to the core it was still a funeral they were all about to attend. And that, amongst everything else, mattered most. Mitakahn made sure to keep that in mind. Friends and loved ones would try to cheer him up and take him away from the reality of the situation, but Mitakahn must remember¡­ that today, he was to say his final good-bye to his father.


    Mitakahn went back up to his room at the top level of the Citadel. He took off his torn up robes, temporarily put on the charcoal-gray tunic with crimson trim he wore from the night before and picked out a suitable formal robe. It was not the fanciest item in the King¡¯s closet, but that is what Mitakahn wanted.


    He was careful to tread around his brother¡¯s fragile emotions. He did not want to make Axion feel like he was not the right one to fill Theomitus¡¯ shoes. Which was an appropriate concern; seeing as though Mitakahn would be literally wearing a pair of the King¡¯s shoes at the funeral. So, a subtle, indistinguishable black death robe was the clear choice for Mitakahn. But he was careful not to make the same mistake twice, and instead of putting it on right then and there, he brought it back to his chambers and laid it on his bed.


    When Mitakahn went to bend over and neatly flatten the robes on the bed he felt something protruding out of his breast pocket. He reached in and took it out. It was a soft, bound up pouch containing a folded up parchment with stiff corners. He unraveled it and took out the paper. Mitakahn unfolded the large piece of worn down parchment and laid out the family tree when Anilithy¨¬stad stormed into the room.


    ¡°I have just received word that their ship has been sighted entering the bay. Come! Let us meet them in Caliber.¡±


    The two rushed out of the royal quarters, down the Citadel, and out of Zepathorum, towards Port Caliber.

 Chapter 11: The Other Side of the Family

    CHAPTER 11 ¨C THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FAMILY


    The docks got little traffic from the bay. But the Axis River which comes from the east, and flows west out into the bay, holds the only nautical passage where nations can use sail and oar for business and trade. After a long journey across MagnaThora, their ship had finally come into Port Caliber under an amber sky of scattered light and fields of clouds and docked at the royal pier within Seaport Village. The royal family of the Steed Kingdom came off the boat in turn.


    First, the three cousin princes of the kingdom walked down the boarding plank. There was the second oldest of Lorde Avalahn¡¯s five grandchildren (second to Axion), Lord Jericho. He was the son of Ady¨¢na and Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s oldest sister, Marinol, and an only child. Jericho was a very worthy knight. His athletic build and dark features gave him a very sleek appeal, the most swift and graceful of the bunch, but prone to getting bested by his temper.


    Next was Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s oldest son Anilithion. Anilithion was the identical image of Anilithy¨¬stad as a young man. Same kind eyes, but a softer stature full of youth. Next to Anilithion was his brother, Mortikahn. Both Mitakahn and Mortikahn, were named after their Grandfather, taking the ¡°-ahn¡± suffix of Avalahn¡¯s name. Young Mortikahn was already sporting his father¡¯s wide shoulders and thick skin. His watchful eyes and looming face supported his suspicious and aggressive personality.


    Mitakahn greeted each of his cousins with a hug. These five cousins, although separated by miles and miles of land, spent much of their childhood growing up together as brothers. It was not until the older ones grew into adults did their paths part. But now, in light of death and in need of support, they were together once again.


    ¡°Good friends, how are you all? It¡¯s been awhile,¡± greeted Mitakahn.


    ¡°You are right Mitakahn, it has been too long, and we are sorry for that,¡± confessed Anilithion.


    ¡°Well, you are here now, and that is all that matters, besides you were following my orders. How is home?¡± asked Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°It is good father, the old man is not as worthless as we thought, he is running things like you never left,¡± replied Mortikahn.


    ¡°That is very brave of you to utter such dismissive language about Grandfather, be it you know¡­ young warrior, that there are spies everywhere,¡± forewarned Jericho.


    ¡°¡­Even inside such high and protected walls as these?¡± added Mitakahn.


    ¡°Do not let them scare you, brother. But do be wary of your words¡­ they are right about these docks, nothing but pickpockets and scandals,¡± murmured Anilithion.


    Suddenly he was thrown off balance, his guard down, and pulled backwards by the neck by a figure in the shadow.


    ¡°Surely, a noble prince from the stallion nation should not be so easily caught off his guard. He would never make it in such a dangerous city.¡±


    It was prince Axion who was holding his younger cousin. Axion tossed Anilithion around and head-butted him. Axion twitched his head; his cousin¡¯s skull shook him up. He took another look at the young heir who was not so young anymore.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting a little old for that, Axion. Doesn¡¯t even hurt.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you compromised your footing,¡± Axion countered right before swiftly swiping his cousin¡¯s legs out from under him.


    ¡°You have a taste for the theatrics, cousin. We didn¡¯t think we would see you upon arrival,¡± teased Jericho.


    ¡°And miss my favorite imported cargo?¡± countered Axion, ¡°Nonsense!¡± Axion and Jericho greeted each other with a rough hug, while Mortikahn helped his brother up.


    ¡°It is good to see you, Jericho.¡±


    The two oldest of the grandchildren had a lot of history together.


    Behind the first three were the princesses of Metuchen. Led by the queen of the Steed Kingdom, Luciana, and Jericho¡¯s mother, there was also Princess Nic¨ªli, wife of Paxikahn, youngest son of King Avalahn, and their two little girls Avalahna and Micilahnya. The two young princesses were skipping off the boat hand in hand and clearly knew not of the grave occasion that the entire family was coming together. Mitakahn was so glad to see them. He picked Micilahnya up and asked, ¡°Where is my Uncle Paxikahn?¡±


    ¡°I asked him to stay and lead the nation along with my brother¡± King Avalahn came out lastly, in long tribal robes. He had aged greatly since Mitakahn last saw him, but still was of tremendous stature. ¡°Galastad and his family also send their regard and love. Their stately duties keep them at the Senate.¡± He said.


    ¡°I understand, your majesty.¡± Mitakahn bowed his head to his grandfather.


    Avalahn looked deep into his grandson¡¯s eyes. They were dark and unending.


    ¡°Come closer, son.¡±


    Son


    The word Mitakahn no longer wanted to be called.


    ¡°Give your grandfather your embrace; it has been a grueling voyage.¡±


    Mitakahn went over and hugged his grandfather. Micilahnya laughed as she was sandwiched between them. Mitakahn put her down and continued his embrace giving the old man a support under his arm.


    Anilithy¨¬stad came around to the king and took his other arm, ¡°Good to see you, father. Let us return to Zepathorum. And prepare for the wake.¡± as he ushered the rest of the family to the caravan, where they would take the road to the Citadel of Zepathorum. Many would show up for this ceremony; most of the kingdoms would be represented by both familiar and foreign faces.


    On the ride back, Micilahnya accompanied Mitakahn on his horse. She asked her older cousin, ¡°Why is everyone so sad?¡± But Mitakahn did not have the heart to tell her. The girls would not go to the funeral. They would unknowingly wait in the royal chambers with their mother. Mitakahn simply answered, ¡°It has been storming here for many days.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± answered the na?ve princess, ¡°I like rainy days, they make me miss the sun.¡±


    Mitakahn was impressed with his little cousin¡¯s insight. She had no idea how right she was. The citizens of Port Caliber were starved, not of food but hope. Everyone was. Darkness had invaded their kingdom after the king¡¯s death. Mitakahn looked around at the townsfolk; there were no smiles, no laughter; only gloom expressions reflective of his own. The entire kingdom was feeling his sadness. It was almost¡­tributary.


    After the road from Caliber, they reached Zepathorum City. It was the same pathetic scene there, nothing but dull movements and sorrowful looks. Wheeling through the overwhelmingly gray streets, the family did not speak. When they finally reached the citadel, Queen Ady¨¢na was standing outside, waiting for them. She picked Avalahna off of Axion¡¯s horse and greeted her family members one by one. And finally, she reached her father, King Avalahn. Ady¨¢na melted into his arms and regressed. She wanted to be a girl again, not the widowed queen. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Avalahn felt the pain that his daughter was in. He guided her into the Citadel and consoled her. Ady¨¢na''s father was the only one of them who could bring the queen back from despair and darkness. Ady¨¢na rested in her bed chambers along with her sister and the princesses, as Avalahn talked with Anilithy¨¬stad. The cousins and grandchildren of the Stallion King waited outside the Citadel and caught up with each other when outsiders began to arrive for the services.


    The first to arrive were priests from the Phoenix Kingdom. The Phoenix Kingdom was the most regarded kingdom in all the lands. Their legend was one of infamy. Members of the Phoenix Kingdom were ascetic hermits, who never left their home on top of the highest peak in the northern slopes of the Burning Mountains. The highest peak was prudently named Mount Fire. This monastery was positively unreachable by average men of any kingdom and housed one of the most ancient treasures and miracles of MagnaThora.


    Two magi, as they were called by the world at large, were already at the Citadel when the group arrived back from the port. Mitakahn entered the room first to find them talking with Queen Ady¨¢na in her bedchamber. He took it upon himself to greet the two magi, now standing alone by the balcony door. They were dressed in simple amber robes with a dark bronze shine. With tan skin and definitive facial features, Mitakahn was hesitant to approach them at first. But his apprehension quickly dissolved when they smiled at him and waved him over. He greeted them and introduced himself, even though it seemed like they already knew who he was.


    ¡°Hello, my name is Mitakahn. I am-¡±


    ¡°We know, prince. The deceased is your father,¡± interrupted one of them.


    ¡°I am Knox, and this is Loki,¡± introduced the other.


    ¡°Did you know my father?¡± He asked them.


    They both nodded their heads and answered, ¡°He asked us to perform his burial rites in accordance with the old gods.¡±


    ¡°Were we shocked that a modern day Pride Lorde would be so bold as to cast aside the ways of the Magnanimous? Of course.¡±


    ¡°Shocked and happy to oblige, after all he was one of the most strong-hearted kings we have ever had the pleasure of knowing.¡±


    Mitakahn tried to swallow his erupting emotion by quickly asking another question.


    ¡°Have you met many kings in your time?¡±


    Loki leaned over to whisper in Mitakahn¡¯s ear. ¡°We have lived long enough to know a time when all the nations were ruled by one king.¡±


    Mitakahn could not believe his ears. They must be hundreds, probably thousands of years old, for that to be true. ¡°You lived during the age of the Crucifire Kings? Surely¡­ you must be joking,¡± responded Mitakahn.


    Knox pulled in Mitakahn¡¯s attention with a cryptic explanation, ¡°You are still very young, dear boy. But I can see past the pain in your eyes. And soon, there will come a time where everything you think you know about this world will explode in fantastical and unbelievable discoveries.¡±


    With that, Mitakahn was rendered speechless. Thankfully, Anilithy¨¬stad relieved Mitakahn and brought the magi up to speed about the service proceedings. The magi of the Phoenix had come to the funeral to give the fallen king the a send-off worthy of MagnaThora and her child. They led the progression with blessings and acclamations.


    Mitakahn returned to his own balcony in his room and looked at the landscape all around, the clouded sky, the sparkling lake. Anilithion walked up next to Mitakahn, ¡°How are you holding up, cousin?¡±


    ¡°I have a feeling I¡¯m going to be asked that question a lot today.¡±


    Anilithion stuttered, ¡°You know, my heart has been with you since father told me about Uncle Theomitus.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Anilithion. You have always been far more perceptive and thoughtful than your age warrants,¡± affirmed Mitakahn.


    His little cousin was almost as tall as Mitakahn. He was a full grown warrior now and proud knight of the royal family. Mitakahn looked at his cousin with pride. As the middle cousins they symbolize the collective spirit and core soul of the family¡¯s inheriting generation; Anilithion representing the heart and youth, and Mitakahn representing the age and wisdom of the group. The two of them watched all the guests approaching the city for the funeral from the balcony.


    ¡°We should get down there,¡± advised Anilithion.


    ¡°I have to change into my dress robes,¡± replied Mitakahn.


    ¡°Shall I meet you downstairs?¡± asked Anilithion.


    ¡°Before you go, I found a random artifact earlier¡­a document of sorts¡­ in my pocket that I wanted to show you.¡±


    As Mitakahn changed, Anilithion took a look at the piece of parchment on the counter. Mitakahn fitted the cuffs on his dress robes and looked out the balcony at his homeland. Fearful pangs ravaged his head. He felt queasy and unbalanced. Mitakahn grasped the stone balcony as all these thoughts and memories rushed into his head. He could not discern them. Anilithion would have seen the blue hue emitting from Mitakahn¡¯s head if he wasn¡¯t so focused on the parchment.


    But they were not memories at all¡­Just sights of his life, shuffled up and out of order. Mitakahn tried to get a hold of himself and ignored the brief attack on his senses. He continued to look out at the Serengeti. It was a beautiful day, still hot, but the humidity was returning. Mitakahn could feel the sweat gathering on his brow, such a peaceful part of his kingdom. Still simple and young, Mitakahn regretted not spending more time there, before¡­But what was he saying?


    ¡®¡­Before what?¡¯ Mitakahn thought.


    An overwhelming sensation crawled into the pit of his stomach. Something horrible was on the horizon. He could feel the pressure in the landscape around him rising. Just as such horrible darkness passed not a day ago, what more could fate possibly have in store for them? The constantly rising sense of foreboding was making Mitakahn confused. Was not the worst over? He could not figure out what yet, but he hoped as time moved on it would get clearer. In these times, where he found it impossible to explain anything, he gave himself to the unexplainable, and accepted the way of fate, the will of nature. After your father dies only then do you truly realize anything is possible.


    Mitakahn closed his eyes standing outside. Everything was calm right now. He let the cool breeze gently brush his face. The warm sun consoled him to the core. It was a beautiful day today. Mitakahn wondered if Theomitus had anything to do with that. Who knows where his father was now. Was he watching them? Mitakahn just knew that he was still alive, or maybe it was a feeling. According to the Magnanimous of the Pride church the spirit of his father lived on in the ascendant hall of kings. But that could never be real to Mitakahn. He subscribed to the pragmatic ways of the Silver Den. Man is a physical being, and can barely comprehend life, let alone the Afterlight, it was not his place to meddle.


    Mitakahn just had to believe in his feelings. It placed hope in his heart, a gift in order to not lead him astray. In the upcoming trials his will and convictions will be tested, but his faith will never be shaken.


    He opened his eyes and looked at his kingdom once again. The sunlight glistened off of Lake Niobi. Mitakahn remembered how much he missed home back when he was in the Silver Den. Now being back for some time he missed setting foot across MagnaThora beyond his kingdom. He fretted if he would ever get back out there and to what degree.


    Another strong rush came upon him. He felt something real, something physical, a wave pouring out of his eyes. No. It was nothing. His subconscious was trying to warn him. Either that or his true intentions were trying to break free. Mitakahn could feel himself changing. His mind was opening up to parts that he had never thought of before. He was both scared and excited for what was to come, but right now it was his father¡¯s funeral, and his cousin was waiting for him back inside.


    Mitakahn walked back in, ¡°So what do you think?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It looks like a family tree to me. I see your name, Axion¡¯s, and it leads all the way up the line of kings, even past Jacob¡­¡±


    ¡°Did you know that Uncle Theomitus had six brothers and sisters?¡±


    ¡°Six? ¡­No, I did not. I¡¯ve never met a single one of them.¡± Mitakahn thought about what this could mean. ¡°It was only the other day I found out¡­¡±


    ¡°And what about the back¡­the message¡­¡±


    ¡°I did it¡­¡±


    ¡°You what?¡±


    ¡°¡­You see that glass jar on the shelf over there¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­That contains your father¡¯s dying breath?¡±


    ¡°For reasons I can¡¯t explain, it sits on my wall,¡± Mitakahn said, ¡°As if waiting to come into play, sitting on some unknown meaning and usefulness.¡±


    ¡°I believe you cousin, and I believe it¡¯s significant, but one question draws my curiosity more than any other¡­Who wrote it?¡±


    Before they could get into any further detail, Mortikahn barged in and said bluntly, ¡°Father wants us downstairs, many have arrived.¡±

 Chapter 12: Serengeti Glades

    CHAPTER 12 ¨C SERENGETI GLADES


    The three of them went downstairs to the main courtyard of the city. Inside Zepathorum City was an intricate network of stores, houses, the kingdom¡¯s high council, and, of course, the Citadel. All of which were built in height order, peaking at the Citadel and then sloping back down on the other side, all the while remaining even and symmetrical. A lot of work was put into the planning of the city. The entire city was surrounded by three high-rise walls, with only one opening behind the Citadel, and of course, the crystal.


    When the city was founded, it was figured that Lake Niobi was large enough to protect and serve as an obstacle for the southern border of the city, in case of siege. The last unique aspect of the city was its tremendous interconnecting courtyard, including the Citadel, to the front gates and the road down to Port Caliber. This courtyard was the quintessential center of town, and, concordantly, where the crowd was starting to accumulate for the Funeral.


    Anilithy¨¬stad, Axion, Queen Ady¨¢na, Mitakahn, and the rest of the family stood under the archway in front of the Citadel and greeted everyone who arrived. The first house to arrive was from Castle Rosi. Mercinestor and his wife Sudania consoled Ady¨¢na. Cipher pressed his hand affectionately on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°We will always be there for you, prince.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Have there been any new developments?¡±


    To be honest, Cipher, I was going to ask you the same thing.¡±


    ¡°No¡­well what exactly do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily regarding the mystery surrounding Theomitus¡¯ death, but more along the lines of¡­¡± Mitakahn struggled to find the right words. ¡°Have you felt differently since we came back from the Ignaleos Cor?¡±


    ¡°Now that you mention it, I¡¯ve been having the strangest thoughts lately and just the other day while I was examining the Cor I imagined that the portal opened¡­¡±


    Mitakahn knew what Cipher was going to say next, but he needed him to say it out loud first. Mitakahn needed to hear it himself and in doing so confirm that he was not going mad.


    ¡°¡­and then it opened.¡±


    ¡°Did you try to close it on command? Or try it again?¡±


    ¡°I had similar theories, but I was too worried about my own mental faculties to continue testing.¡±


    ¡°I feel as though something has changed inside me as well, but there has been a lot to process.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s understandable, Mitakahn.¡±


    Cipher put his hands firmly on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulders. He squared up with him and made eye contact.


    ¡°But we are still standing, we are still here.¡±


    ¡°Yes we are.¡± Mitakahn dropped his head.


    ¡°Life isn¡¯t done with us yet.¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t¡±


    Cipher could see the hint of a raw smirk coming from beneath Mitakahn¡¯s buried brow, as if he was mining through his sorrow and just struck a little joy. Mitakahn nodded. He was losing his words and there was still a long day ahead of him.


    The rest of the key figures of the Pride filed in behind House Casterosi. There was House Silonas of the southernmost city of the Serengeti, led by Lord Grastaris. From the eastern city of Orbalis there was House Trenoble, led by Lord Arsen. In walked, House HyGard which hailed from North Caliber, led by Lord Zefari. There was House Ventrilles from Arunidawa in the West, Lord Jonavan, his wife Lady Kalina, and their beautiful daughter Kara Ventrilles, commander of the Zenfor Archers.


    ¡°Look who it is, Cipher.¡±


    Cipher already knew of Kara Ventrilles. Growing up in the houses of their respective families meant they were parts of the same circles. Over time, completely unbeknownst to Kara herself, but only Cipher and Mitakahn, they developed quite the rapport. It was a simple dynamic. Cipher was unable to tell her how he really felt.


    ¡°You should tell her about your new gift.¡±


    ¡°Kara would find it fascinating.¡±


    ¡°Here she comes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not ready.¡±


    ¡°You never are, my friend.¡±


    Mitakahn pat Cipher on the back as the Ventrilles greeted them one-by-one. Cipher smashed words together in his head to catch Kara¡¯s interest. As she approached him, she flicked her head, tossing the dark bangs away from her eyes. Apart from the long bangs on one side of her face the rest of her hair was cut short. Somehow she found a way to exude the fierceness of lead Zenfor while also maintaining her feminine exquisiteness. The hair flick rendered Cipher speechless. The Ventrilles made their way through the procession.


    Mitakahn saw the whole thing go down, a tale as old as time. Kara exists and Cipher chokes. Eventually Cipher would overcome his stage fright, for now he tortured himself. Mitakahn refused to let him give up hope.


    ¡°Next time, I can feel it.¡± said Mitakahn, reassuringly.


    Cipher nodded his head in resolve.


    The lesser Lords arrived together, almost as if on purpose. House Kalner of Kallington and House Brevitas of Brevindale combined with House Leston from Quarry, and House Miller from Cubbet Downs accounted for most of the towns in the centermost regions of the Serengeti. Together these lords made up the major and minor houses of the Pride. Some were more friendly with the crown and the royal family than others, but all were loyal.


    Soon the foreign kingdom representatives arrived. The only ones that Mitakahn could identify were the politicians and senators of Crucifire Plains. Mitakahn could not help but think about his friend and schoolmate, Tron, and whether or not he would be able to make it to the Funeral.


    Mitakahn noticed how all the councilmen of Zepathorum were surrounding the Senators of Crucifire. Perhaps it was envy or perhaps something darker that was brewing within their conversations; but whatever it may be, Mitakahn was both aware and conscious of this clandestine gathering and what trouble it might bring to the future of his kingdom.


    He took a mental note, immediately alert Axion of a potential coup in the works. Part of Mitakahn wanted to run over to him right away, but it was not the time. He must respect his father on this day; that above all mattered most. He would have to tell himself that time and time again, throughout the day. For many reasons would try to pull him away, distractions, despair, but respect and love would guide him and keep his heart and mind in line.


    Axion was off in a daze as he stood under the Citadel¡¯s archway trying to figure some things out. His priority was the throne; he could never escape its shadow on his thoughts. To try and divert his attention he began to count all the banners inside the courtyard.


    There was the gold banner with the black outline of a gorilla which waved above the Senators. Although many kingdoms were now under the control of the Senate, at a king¡¯s funeral the banners of old flew; a customary MagnaThoran decree. There was also the brown and white banner of the Bear Kingdom. The other outer rim nation besides the Lion and Steed Kingdom located in the far eastern reaches of MagnaThora. Another banner was coming through the mighty metal gates of Zepathorum, green and tan, its worn down color practically blending in with the city¡¯s walls. This banner hailed from the Komodo Maze, the stone labyrinth inside the desert of the south, home to the rapidly decaying Lizard Kingdom. Stolen story; please report.


    Axion was suddenly greeted by an odd old man wearing dirty glasses with a very old cloak, riddled with dirt all over him. Upon seeing Axion looking at all the banners, he pulled a cloth from under his cloak and asked Axion to set it for him. Axion agreed and the old man walked away, just like that. Axion inspected the flag. It was a gray flag with two blue diagonal lines meeting in the middle where a fair blue silhouette of a dog stood proudly. One of the founding tribes of humanity, the canine kingdom had long since been reduced to its role as the remaining part of the senate. Behind Axion waved the crimson flag of Zepathorum and the newly raised black and brown flag of Metuchen¡¯ representing both the Lion and Steed Kingdom. Lion, Steed, Gorilla, Bear, Lizard, and Canine; six banners waved in the air.


    Axion thought of only two more that he might see, and one that he hoped he would never see in his lifetime. The both ancient and feared Dragon Kingdom¡¯s amethyst colors have only been seen during the dark ages. Always the enemy, the Dragon is the ancient god of darkness and evil.


    The only other kingdoms not represented by their banners were the Phoenix Kingdom and the Stag Kingdom. The Magi, Axion thought, were already here, so why not hang their banner high where everyone could see it. Perhaps, those priests of the sacred order were too humbled and withdrawn from society to have a banner.


    And as though they were reading Axion¡¯s thoughts, one of the Magi stepped out from the archway after talking with Anilithy¨¬stad and Ady¨¢na, merely raised his hand with slow confidence, and a flag of pure flame manifested right underneath the Lion Kingdom¡¯s banner on the same flagpole. Although it looked identical to a sideways flame, it still swayed in the air like all the other banners, a true testament to the mystical essence of the Phoenix. Axion was astonished and his cheeks flushed red with clear embarrassment on his shoulders. But most of all, he felt violated and self-conscious of whether or not he could hold his own thoughts in his head confident of no outside intrusion.


    Lastly, Axion saw the silver glistening from across the courtyard. The banner of the Stag Kingdom, although not as magical, was still a marvel to look at. It looked like tremendous work had been put into the making of this banner. The silver was solid across the entire flag with the exception of a bright white stag galloping with every bend of the wind. Perhaps it was an optical illusion, or maybe it was some divine magic like the Phoenix Kingdom¡¯s banner; but the Stag on the flag not only shined with the radiance of the sun, it was also constantly in motion, running across the sparkling fields of silver.


    The Stag banner swayed above the convoy of King Mightier, and the rest of the Stag Kingdom¡¯s royal family now entered the city. Mitakahn quickly walked over to the upcoming arrival of the Stag Kingdom, he had now known King Mightier for five years, between his friendship with the King¡¯s son, Bridger, and Theomitus¡¯ relations with the Stag Kingdom. He pleasantly greeted King Mightier, his queen, and the two princesses, Bridger¡¯s sisters, and Bridger¡¯s younger brother Thorax.


    Mitakahn asked King Mightier where Bridger might be if not here. And King Mightier told him that he was still at school finishing up the term. Mitakahn felt a little disheartened that none of his friends were coming to the Funeral, but he was glad that they would be able to finish up their training, even though he could not. Once again he was tempted by grief and resentment, and once again fought against it, pledging his dedication to making the day all about the honor of his father¡¯s memory. After talking with the royal family of Compis Falls, the capital city of the Stag Kingdom, Mitakahn returned to his brother¡¯s side. The two columns of the kingdom standing side by side, greeting all their guests who have come such a long way to pay their respects.


    After Cipher¡¯s confirmation of the Ignaleos Cor having lasting effects on them he wasted no time in asking his brother point-blank.


    ¡°Axion, have you felt different since we got back from the trials?¡±


    ¡°No, not one single bit.¡±


    Something about that answer made Mitakahn think there were other things going on with Axion which might cause him to sour on a completely separate topic. This was a trait commonly found with Ady¨¢na¡¯s side of the family, the Metuchen side of the princes, the red blooded shorelands in them. Mitakahn recognized it well, so he changed the topic.


    ¡°A good showing¡±


    Axion responded by pointing at the banners, ¡°Seven banners fly in our courtyard little brother, including ours that makes eight, two more and the ancient prophecies of the Ten Kingdoms might be fulfilled here at Father¡¯s funeral.¡±


    ¡°That would be some feat¡­ raising the Wolf Kingdom from extinction and taming the Dragon Kingdom well enough to be a part of civilized society. Well with that kind of impression you would be the most influential king of all time.¡±


    Axion took a step back and gave Mitakahn an austere look.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± replied Mitakahn to his brother¡¯s face.


    Axion did not answer.


    Mitakahn persisted, ¡°I know you have been avoiding me since I returned home. I never took it personally, because I was always with father. But why the grave look every time I utter a single word to you now that he¡¯s gone, Axion?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not you, little brother. I just¡­¡± Axion hesitated, before getting in closer to Mitakahn¡¯s ear, ¡°I don¡¯t know if I want to be king,¡± he finally admitted.


    ¡°¡­You don¡¯t know if you want to be king?¡± repeated Mitakahn.


    ¡°I just have so many-¡± Before Axion could finish he was cut off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it, Axion!¡± Mitakahn cut loose, ¡°And don¡¯t go around saying that sort of thing! There are scavengers just waiting for a chance to crumble the throne and hand all the power of our kingdom over to the Senate. Sycophantic snakes who attend this funeral with their false sympathies and phony air of significance-¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, control yourself. What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°This is your destiny, Axion. You can¡¯t run away from this. I saw the councilmen talking with the Senate as soon as they got here. Governor Demeter will jump at the opportunity to dissolve our family¡¯s legacy and take control of the kingdom. You can¡¯t do this.¡±


    ¡°Who are you to tell me what my destiny is? I will do what I feel is right. No one is going to tell me what I can and can¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re having doubts, I understand that. But you have certain responsibilities as the first born-¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, I don¡¯t want to hear it!¡± and with that Axion stormed off back into the Citadel.


    Jericho, Anilithion, and Anilithy¨¬stad, came over to Mitakahn after hearing the end of the argument.


    Jericho asked, ¡°What was that about?¡±


    And Mitakahn answered, ¡°Nothing, we¡¯re both just¡­ exhausted¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay Mitakahn, don¡¯t worry yourself over it,¡± compensated Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°I¡¯ll go talk to Axion. We should be starting the procession soon. Go see about the casket, boys.¡± Anilithy¨¬stad went inside to console Axion; and Jericho, Anilithion, and Mitakahn went to prepare the casket for the ceremony.


    Mitakahn was helping fasten the casket to the carriage for the ride down to the Port City when he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned around to face a group of towering men and women. Mitakahn looked up at their faces, he was reminded of one friend back at the academy, they must be from the Bear Kingdom.


    ¡°Hello Prince, you do not know me, but I knew your father. My name is Rhodideran, and I am the Steward of Wilder Heights. Your father was a great man and noble king, and for that we present you and your family with this gift. . .¡± He moved out of the way and pointed with his massive hand to a sculpture standing in the middle of the Courtyard.


    The gigantics of the Bear Kingdom were simple folk and a civilization of gifted miners. In all the time they dwell in the mountains their biggest form of trade and business were both mining and molding metal and stone. The sculpture was a beautiful work of art. It was a picture of four lions. Three of the lions were carved out of polished stone. One was a lioness, and the other two were lion cubs, one looking up and the other on its back lying in front of the other three. The last lion was clearly the father and a memorial for Theomitus and was crafted out of ivory stone with a golden mane of fur and a crimson crown. It was a powerful sight to see.


    Mitakahn marveled at the incredibly kind gesture given by the Bear Kingdom and gratefully thanked them, saying, ¡°This is truly a most wonderful gift. We will forever keep it in that exact spot in the center of the city, for all the ages to remember my father, the king, and your compassionate tribute.¡±


    They bowed to each other, and horns sounded off above from the top of the walls. The Funeral had begun.


    The service would start in the Courtyard of Zepathorum City. Everyone who had assembled in the courtyard were now gathered into a line and tossing flowers onto the King¡¯s casket. The last person to go was the Queen, who gently placed one white rose on top of the flowerbed. After that Queen Ady¨¢na, Axion, and Mitakahn along with their cousins and extended family members would ride with the casket, on carriage, down to Port Caliber. Everyone would follow them in a procession line of black carriages and pure white horses. The prestrian-bred horses were brought from Metuchen as an ode to Theomitus¡¯ pure-heartedness. Mitakahn looked out of the carriage, he noticed how this was the exact antithesis of the journey Mitakahn had completed when he first returned home. How many times has he made this trip back and forth in his lifetime? But never with the disparaging pretense of his last two trips. They would bring the casket to another meeting hall before they took it to the beachhead.


    As they journeyed down the road all the citizens of both cities and the Serengeti were standing along its edges tossing down long Serengeti glades for the horses to step on and carriages to ride over. Long blades of grass as tall as the people holding them and delicate to the touch, you could roll over several stacked together with a wheel and not feel a single bump in the wagon. They are only found in the rolling fields of the Pride. The masses of the Lion Kingdom came out in their entirety for one last testament to the king, subjects beholden to their beloved monarch.

 Chapter 13: The Funeral

    CHAPTER 13 ¨C THE FUNERAL


    The procession line entered Port Caliber and pulled around in front of the main city hall and Assembly, a room for meetings and legislature councils inside Caliber. It was in this room that everyone was given the opportunity to pay their last respects to the fallen king. Mitakahn stood by his late father and greeted every person brave enough to say goodbye. He met many of the men and women that his father called friends. The prince stood alone by his father¡¯s casket. Mitakahn didn¡¯t blink throughout the whole ordeal, in a constant daze of disbelief and despair. He knew that is where his father would be at such an occasion if the roles were reversed, so he stood as herald to the bereaved.


    For Ady¨¢na it was not so easy. At first, she tried sitting up at the front of the room near the coffin. But it was just too much to bear. It was her father, King Avalahn who approached his suffering daughter. He put his arms around her and brought her to the back. Avalahn told the queen, ¡°You are brave, my child. You carry such a burden with grace, and I beseech you,¡± continued King Avalahn, ¡°to look around, and feel good about the amount of lives your husband touched. He was a true champion of lions and child of MagnaThora. And he has the honor of dining with the gods now¡­¡±


    Queen Ady¨¢na wiped away the tears from her eyes and felt the warmth of her father¡¯s embrace. She felt like a child again, her shoreland roots exposing. It moved her to be strong once again and flow the brave energy her father generated and her fallen soulmate deserved. Avalahn admired his daughter. She had come so far. He was so proud of her. And his heart sank for her. He would helplessly witness her life be stripped away of all decency.


    The shore king would have her come home with him if she was not responsible for a nation. Not just that, but a family. Avalahn could see that Axion and Mitakahn were as crushed as Ady¨¢na, and Axion, his firstborn grandson, now in line to take his throne, was more fragile than ever. But soon his time would come to leave and return to Metuchen. He had to figure out a way to watch over her. Perhaps, if he cannot do it himself he might leave a guardian by her side. And there was no one more reliable than his first born son, Anilithy¨¬stad. King Avalahn left Ady¨¢na with the rest of the princesses and fetched his son.


    King Avalahn stood side by side with Anilithy¨¬stad as they watched Mitakahn in the front of the room standing alone beside the casket and greeting every member of the farewell procession, a constant current of people both foreign and domestic in a line.


    ¡°I want you to stay here after the funeral, and look after them,¡± ordered King Avalahn. ¡°Keep the boys with you and take Jericho as well.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, father.¡±


    ¡°Stay as long as you deem fit¡­until they are on their feet again.¡±


    ¡°What of Axion and the throne?¡± inquired Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Give him all the time he needs¡­and all the space he needs from the sharks¡­¡± Avalahn alluded to the bureaucrats that would sooner or later lobby for the dissolve of the monarchy and assimilation into the Senate.


    ¡°As you wish, my liege...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m entrusting you with the well-being of this nation because you are the only one who understands such a rule. Pray to the gods no more darkness do these three see¡­¡± King Avalahn concluded and walked away from his son as Jericho walked up next to the other side of Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°What was that all about?¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad turned to his nephew and said softly, ¡°We¡¯re to stay behind with the princes and mediate the transition of the throne.¡±


    ¡°We will not fail you, uncle.¡±


    ¡°You never have.¡±


    Mitakahn continued greeting people coming to pay their last respects. There were many people sharing their story of the king with the prince. He was grateful. If there was anything that Mitakahn loved it was getting the same story from a different perspective. In the most sour of ways, this was one all-encompassing story about his father.


    ¡°He¡¯s not gone, you know,¡± said a polite old woman.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°We believe in the Magnanimous but who put the great lion on this earth?¡±


    ¡°The gods did.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my prince. The same gods that gave us the lion gave us the heavens. All great kings of the lion go to heaven and Theomitus was truly great.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The kind old lady reached out for Mitakahn¡¯s hand and kissed it saying one more thing before she moved on, ¡°You look like him.¡±


    Mitakahn wondered if anyone would call him truly great at his funeral. If only he could be there to see for himself. He would only dare to think he could be as worthy as his father.


    This part of the procession would be a fog of a memory to Mitakahn, except for one moment. Surrounded by condolences and apologies; the prince¡¯s murkiness was at its thickest. In the fog, Mitakahn could hear the quiet conversations all around him better than he could see right in front of him. . This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°He held that jar up to his mouth, as if he was actually accomplishing something.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still a child in many ways.¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s face suddenly flushed with sweat. They were talking about him.


    ¡°I laughed it off instead of scolding him and you should¡¯ve seen the look he gave me.¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s anger pushed through his grief when he realized it was his brother saying these things to their cousin Jericho. How could Axion act so cold in a moment of sheer vulnerability? These were no childish games he was playing.


    He was given a secret mission within a hidden message. Mitakahn would do anything for his father and failed to save him. He had nothing left except the mysterious message, and what? His brother felt the need to ridicule him for it? Mitakahn was furious. He stood at the front of the procession while his brother mocked him from the back.


    There was no way he could ever explain it to Axion. His older brother was a deliberate and severe person, just like Jericho. No wonder they were commiserating together at the expense of Mitakahn. What exactly did he do wrong? Have a little hope? Maybe it was a fool¡¯s hope, but it was a drop of water in an endless desert.


    At the time, he was too caught up in the moment to think how his family would react to such an odd gesture. Mitakahn¡¯s anger quickly gave way to humiliation. Why did he always put himself in these situations?


    Axion was right, it was childish and selfish to think he could save the king by trapping his last breath in a jar. Now he realized how much of an idiot he must¡¯ve looked like desecrating his father¡¯s corpse. He was ashamed of himself. As soon as he got back to his room he vowed to hurl the jar off the citadel tower and forget it ever happened. It was time to start acting like a real man.


    Just then a light entered the room and broke his fog. It slowly made its way to the front of the room, waiting in the line of mourners. When the light reached Mitakahn it dimmed.


    Behind it was a beautiful maiden. She looked like a princess of the Heavens: bright, natural brown eyes that look as though her pupils captivate all the colors of the universe, fair, soft skin, and long brunette hair flowing into her immaculate evergreen dress, still glowing with the white radiance of light. Mitakahn was compelled to hug her. As they held each other in their embrace, the maiden spoke softly into Mitakahn¡¯s ear, four simple words¡­


    ¡°His spirit lives on.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    With a flash, the prince stumbled back and nearly fell to the floor. The woman was gone. Mitakahn was delirious. No one had flinched within the room. No one but Mitakahn noticed what had just happened. He was starting to hallucinate. Leave it to prince Mitakahn to dream up the most beautiful woman in the world. The grief and despair had officially taken a toll on the prince. He gathered himself as best he could and finished this grueling part of the ceremony. The murkiness set back in, but Mitakahn had forgotten his vow to discard the jar.


    He had heard all the stories of his father¡¯s a hundred times. But it seemed modesty was the theme in all his storytelling. Because what Mitakahn was hearing now, about his father¡¯s adventures, was so inspiring and more grand than what his father used to tell him, that it all deserved to be logged in the hall of records; worthy of future generations to hear.


    Without warning from the doors walked in, two by two, as if it were an honorary marching service, all Mitakahn¡¯s brethren from the Knighthood of the Silver Den. All of the friends Mitakahn learned with and grew close to walked perfectly in step with each other, into the service to give their honor and respect to the fallen king, the widowed Queen, and their bereaved comrade. The first five knights leading the march were faces he thought he would not see this day. Mitakahn looked at his former bunkmates and close friends, Tron, Kunezar, Bridger, Humbler, and Excelsior. Tron gave Mitakahn a subtle head nod as they all walked by him to the front of the casket.


    The entire parade stopped, turned to face the casket, and knelt down on one knee, all the while being completely in sync with each other. After a moment of silence, they all stood back up and chanted, ¡°All hail the glorious dead¡± and then marched to the back of the room. Upon their entrance the whole place stopped and took note of what was happening. It was a true testament of brotherhood and honor.


    Mitakahn left his spot beside the casket to greet and thank his friends. Before he could even wonder what Excelsior was doing Orion came rushing into the service and pounced on Mitakahn.


    Excelsior was from the Canine Kingdom, a community of wanderers. Upon being born, every member of the Canine Kingdom was paired, by fate, with a dog that walked beside them their entire life. This was an ancient divine gift that preceded any other kingdom legend. The dogs grew to the height of humans, and sometimes, depending upon the breed, the size of horses. Just like the ancient kings of the Pride, members of the canine kingdom used their dogs as mounts. They traveled as one and were always fierce on the battlefield, a storm of cavalry.


    Now, with his back pinned to the floor, Mitakahn was getting all the grief and sadness licked off his face as he was overcome with joy by the dog¡¯s affection. Excelsior came to his wild beast¡¯s side, saving the prince from the dog¡¯s loving torment.


    After that, Mitakahn personally thanked all of his friends for coming. Tron told him how one dark and foggy night he was on the fields of the Silver Den with Excelsior when they both looked at each other and knew something was wrong. Their thoughts surrounded Mitakahn, and they knew what had to be done by the Academy.


    Soon the service began to slow down. The line had dispensed and there was no one left in the room besides Mitakahn¡¯s closest family and friends, and the two priests from the Phoenix Kingdom. The wake was now over, and it was time to bring the casket down to its final resting place. The casket would be carried down to the shores by Axion, Mitakahn, Anilithy¨¬stad, Anilithion, Jericho, and Mortikahn. It was not an easy task. The walk consisted of many blocks through the inner city, then turning south into residential areas, and finally the empty shores of Caliber.


    The chosen few set down the casket upon the sand. It was almost night time already. To think, a whole day had passed by in the teardrop of a minute. The beach was clear of any ship or seaside market. The citizens of Port Caliber were thoughtful enough to give the king and his family the privacy and their final good-byes, and Mitakahn was grateful for that. It was because Theomitus was such a good king that everyone in his kingdom was loyal to him and kindhearted to each other.


    Everyone paid homage to the setting sun. A natural element common in various religions. MagnaThora was the land of many faiths, all clashing and mixing together. The Lion Kingdom was not an overly religious kingdom as some of the others. It was also nothing like the Apathetics. An ancient order of Apophas that despised worship and rule and manufactured the democratic revolution with the founding of the Republic in the ashes of the gorilla, canine, and lizard thrones.


    No, the Lion kingdom remained neutral, a secular rule with flexibility in religion and belief in personal freedoms. Mitakahn had always admired that about his home, a monarchy that honored human rights. Everyone didn¡¯t have to believe in Magnanimous just because they lived on his Serengeti, but it sure did help.

 Chapter 14: The Eulogy

    CHAPTER 14 ¨C THE EULOGY


    It was very quiet; no one was speaking. Mitakahn had thought long and hard about this moment and in his deliberation had finally come to a decision. He took a step forward. He walked in front of the group and said, ¡°I would like to say a few words about my father.¡±


    Uncertain at first, he looked to the Magi of the Phoenix for approval. They nodded their heads. Queen Ady¨¢na¡¯s eyes began to water. And Anilithy¨¬stad spoke out, saying, ¡°Go ahead, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°The King¡­ I mean¡­ My father was a generous and compassionate man. He was a kind and powerful ruler. But amongst all his outstanding qualities as a leader, three were prominent and the core of his magnificence: Courage, Wisdom, and Love.¡­Courage, not just in the sense that you all may think of it. Yes, he was brave in the face of war and danger. But King Theomitus was also a valiant heart in the care of his kingdom. His ambitious mentality toward ruling these lands gave him a very unique quality as a king. He would walk down the Serengeti and here in Port Caliber and talk with the common folk. Not only was he honest in humility, but he was an extremely thoughtful king.¡±


    Mitakahn took a deep breath, attempting to gather his thoughts, and continued.


    ¡°I remember, as a young lad, walking with my father and being shocked at how many of the citizens he knew. He would greet everyone who crossed his path. Not only that, but he would know their names and all of their family members¡¯ names. And of course, he would ask how they were all doing. After being abroad and learning how other cultures and nations work, I have never heard of anything quite like this. I was, and still am, so proud of my father.¡±


    ¡°The next trait is wisdom. Early in my life I began to question a lot of things that people take for granted. Not only did my father have an answer for me every time, but he always left me thinking and wondering more after our talks. He was one of the only people that could stimulate me mentally and for that I am truly going to miss him.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I feel that nobody sees the world as I do. But talking with the king always reassured me that I was¡­not¡­alone¡­¡±


    Mitakahn began to trail off, thinking about how alone he would become now that his father was gone. But as soon as he caught his brother¡¯s face, almost on the brink of tears; he found the strength to go on.


    ¡°And the last trait is love. In today¡¯s modern world love is sometimes seen as a point of weakness. But, this was the most powerful tool in the king¡¯s arsenal. He loved his country, he loved his role as king,¡± Mitakahn looked to Axion when he said this, ¡°He loved his life, his family, and most of all¡­¡± Mitakahn turned his eyes towards his Mother, ¡°He loved his wife.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°With these combined passions, King Theomitus was given the strength to do what was necessary to ensure the prosperity of his kingdom. King Theomitus was the best Pride Lorde this kingdom has ever seen. And this was made possible by his capacity to love. His memory will be with us to the very end. And I urge you all to take a lesson from the dead and live a life devoted to courage, wisdom, and most of all¡­love.¡±


    Mitakahn walked back to his spot in line as his last words echoed in his ears.


    Thoughts rapidly bounced around in his head, ¡®Did I do my father justice?¡¯ ¡®Did what I said apply to the moment?¡¯ ¡®Did I get across the message I was trying to convey?¡¯ ¡®Did I just make a fool of myself?¡¯ But his tensions were eventually soothed as the next part of the ceremony was under way.


    It was known by all that the old magi of the Phoenix Kingdom were men with phenomenal powers. Now it would be proven. They walked from the head of the ceremony, two of them, side by side, to the casket. They held out one hand each and it looked as though fire came spilling out of their fingertips as they lit the noble tomb ablaze. Then they grasped both side handles without getting burned by the flames covering the top of the casket, and began to raise the casket.


    The two clerics burned their hearts bright with belief and veneration, wielding them with massive wings of fire upon their shoulders.


    Children of the Phoenix were believed to possess powers of immortality, wings of fire, and flight. Long had Axion and Mitakahn heard of such rumors, but not before now had they ever witnessed it with their own eyes. These two quiet titans lifted the casket that took six average men to carry into the air with ease, while their awe-inspiring wings burned on high for the occasion. Axion would never forget this day. Something about those wings made his fear of the future dissolve for the time-being. Even though he was still worried about moving on and what it would bring, the sight of the fiery wings quelled his heart.


    The two magi set the burning memorial assail in the bay. Slowly, the casket floated out to sea. The water was calm under the sinking sun. The slow glistening of the water¡¯s reflection blended both the fire from the sailing grave and the light from the amber sun together. It burned into the horizon of the sunset, never to be seen again. The magi chanted their last blessing and flew back ashore. The wings evaporated when their feet touched the sand, and they were human once again.


    The mass concluded with the drifting away of their king. Mitakahn turned from the sailing grave and began to walk back from the shoreline.


    ¡°Mitakahn¡± Tron walked up to him, trying to get his attention. He was able to stop his friend. Mitakahn respected Tron and gave him the opportunity to help. Tron registered this and thought quickly about the right choice of words.


    ¡°We will get through this.¡±


    Mitakahn looked up at his friend. He had no response. He patted Tron on the back with an absent smile before looking back down to cover up his grief and walked away. The wood burned into prayer and from the sea their father¡¯s soul was lifted into the heavens to live forever in the Light.

 Chapter 15: Retreat to the Mountains

    CHAPTER 15 ¨C RETREAT TO THE MOUNTAINS


    A few days had passed since the funeral. Each night Mitakahn had trouble getting to sleep. Throbbing headaches would come to him in the late afternoon and last until nightfall. There were some nights that the headaches kept him from getting any sleep at all. He was growing more and more restless, and by far the most irritable of the mourning family. After his sermon at the funeral, Mitakahn had all but stopped talking.


    King Avalahn along with the princesses returned to Metuchen, but Jericho, Anilithy¨¬stad and his sons, Anilithion, and Mortikahn stayed behind. All of Zepathorum went back to its daily routines. It seemed that Queen Ady¨¢na, Axion, and Mitakahn were the only three still stuck in the wake of their king.


    Mitakahn had, at last, dropped his brave front. He would sit in the Citadel, lost in his thoughts, trying to make sense of all these new feelings. Never before had he felt such pure hatred and blanketing dullness. The resentment covered his aura. Something was growing inside him¡­ a new energy, a brandished feeling. His entire concept of life and meaning was shattered, broken; unhinged.


    He felt divided, his spirit¡­ lost among the fray of his identity; shredded personas mixing inside his mind. He was not himself anymore. But the schism brought on by his father¡¯s death and the introduction of darkness to his heart changed him irrevocably. Mitakahn was losing his grip on reality. Above all the confusion, although he would never admit it, he was scared. Scared of what this life would mean for him. He sat in the shadowed corners of the Citadel alone and watched the sun rise and set.


    All the fuss of the funeral was over, and the royal family was expected to pick up where they left off. Queen Ady¨¢na tried to sit in on council meetings but could not bear to hear her husband¡¯s name being said so many times in one sitting. Soon she became paranoid that they only did it to drive her out. Part of the queen wanted to pack up and return to her home kingdom of Metuchen. But she knew she could not. She was a mother of the Lion Kingdom, and she had to protect her family and nation. Axion could barely look at the throne without getting upset.


    Each member of the royal family was falling into deep depression. They needed to get away for a while and recollect themselves. That is when Anilithy¨¬stad decided to send them to a retreat in the mountains. He knew of a small town where they would be safe in solitude. Upon concocting these plans, Anilithy¨¬stad sent Jericho and Mortikahn out ahead with a patrol of the Royal Guard to make sure that the path was clear.


    Mitakahn entered the Queen¡¯s chambers and let her know that the carriages were waiting for them out front. He helped bring his mother¡¯s bags to the carriages in the courtyard. Axion came down and together the three of them, along with their servants and personal guard climbed into the horse-drawn carriages and set off on their trip to a small village in the northwestern slopes of the Burning Mountains.


    The family could not stay in the capital, they had to get away and gather their thoughts so they could return level-headed and with proper priorities on their mind. The ambassadors and councilmen would temporarily run the nation until Axion was ready to take the throne. Mitakahn was very wary of this decision but did not want to cause conflict between himself and his mother and brother so early after the king¡¯s death. So, Mitakahn talked to his uncle privately and together they came to the conclusion that Anilithy¨¬stad would stay to make sure the best interests of the royal family were kept in mind.


    The trip to the Burning Mountains was short. The Burning Mountains were named after their peculiar mountain peaks and ranges which make it look like a long line of giant brown flames. It was not until the second age of MagnaThora when the mountains actually started to emit smoke from its vents that the name came into literal meaning. As the legends have it Lord Patronalus wrestled the great dragon god Dracobra down to the deepest caverns of the mountains and imprisoned the beast there. The immortal dragon was rumored to be there until this day lighting the fires from within. But in the reality of the modern age the fire, wherever it may be, was going out. Oldstone experts could all tell you the mountain smoke slowly diminished. Many religious fanatics saw it as a heed to the end of days. But life goes on.


    There were many small towns along the mountainside. They prayed to the ancient gods of the phoenix tribe, a kingdom unlike the Pride. They had no houses or liege lords, no standing army, or vast cities. It was just these small towns and Mount Fire itself, a place unreachable by common man. Anilithy¨¬stad and the Pride council chose the relatively young settlement of Ashtown for the royal family¡¯s retreat; known enough to them, just the right distance away from their kingdom, and most important of all devoid of any threat, truly innocent.


    The royal family did not talk on their trip. They just sat in the caravan. Their looks rivaled stone; short breaths, sullen expressions. They passed time. And so time passed, day turned to night, and they arrived at the end of their trail.


    They went right to bed, getting through another day without any more disaster. Mitakahn was the last to turn in, lying wide-eyed in his bed. He could not sleep. There was no comfort in it. He feared his dreams. Instead, Mitakahn wandered outside in the night.


    The moon and stars brightened the dark sky. Mitakahn stared up at the moon¡­ one pure light in the darkness surrounded by stars: a window to the heavens. Mitakahn got up and opened the window, but before he could go through it he was shaken awake. He unknowingly fell asleep out on the grass.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The first few days were long. And they were finding it hard to adjust to the stiff mountain air and the people¡¯s slow lifestyle. Each day just crawled by as they tried to re-appreciate life in its most basic and wholesome form, but it was no use. They sought asylum in this young town where there was no law, no politics, just community, just the promise of a future. It was still too small to stir up deviants or criminals, the perfect town, na?ve to mischief and misery, free of evil.


    One morning Axion walked through the town, curious but distant. He wandered around aimlessly looking for something, just anything, anything he could wrap his mind around to forget about what haunted him. How could he become king? How could he take his father¡¯s place? The answer was simple. He could never take his father¡¯s place. So what was the point? He considered remaining here in this modest town forever in seclusion, away from his responsibilities and torments. Axion wandered aimlessly both inside his mind and around town. He found himself lying on a table outside of a market staring up, high into the sky.


    ¡°You look lost.¡±


    He heard a humble voice from above him. ¡®Funny you should say that¡¯ he thought.


    The prince opened his eyes to find a beautiful maiden of the fair town. She looked different from the rest of them though. The townsfolk were small people, frumpy with pasty white skin, pale and stout figures. She was not of their kind. She was a lengthy, curvaceous, and well-toned girl. Her reddish tanned skin complimented her fiery eyes. She stood out amongst every other member of the village. But they loved and treated her as one of their own.


    ¡°I am Euphrati.¡±


    The prince heard her soft and intriguing voice once again and wondered, ¡®what appeal do I serve over any other lad around this afternoon?¡¯ and then it bit him, he had not responded to this girl at all. And with that he jumped up, nearly colliding with her.


    ¡°I am sorry for my lack of courtesy, my name is Axion, and I don¡¯t know a single person in this town. This place is new to me.¡±


    Euphrati laughed and the two began to talk, affection sprouted immediately. Euphrati was known throughout the town as an orphan with a very unique story¡­


    Legend of the Man from Dark Cloud


    One day many years ago, there was a loud thunder in the sky and a black cloud stretched over the village. All of the townsfolk came out of their houses to see the thunder that brought no rain. The slow rolling cloud moved across the entire span of the sky. It came from the east. The blackness was more like a thick smoke than a cloud. It barely looked natural, but it moved in union with the high winds. The current was slow, as the darkness consumed the atmosphere. Further down the range at the highest peak the mountain breaks and the screams of hundreds are muffled in the smoke of its exhaust.


    One voice escaped the treacherous event. A man fell from the sky, plummeting towards the floor. He pulled the black smog with him. With a mighty crash his impact broke the ground. The villagers all hurried to the crash site to find the man. When they dug him out they found a baby in his arms. Even more miraculously, the baby was still alive. The father was gone, so the town took in this child and would raise it as their own.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    Now she was a young woman who worked and lived on her own. Euphrati was a special child, and the villagers all knew that. Her spirit was pure, and her soul was strong, eternally protected by her father¡¯s love. Euphrati told Axion, she always knew she didn¡¯t belong here, but she had nowhere else to go. Axion did not return to his cabin that night, instead he would begin spending all his time with Euphrati. They did everything together. Days would pass without Axion even noticing. He had found his something.


    For Mitakahn it would not be so easy. He would spend his time during the day in the darkness of his bedroom, trying to solve his own problems. With his father gone it was only a matter of time before the royal family lost control. Each would fall before relinquishing rule over the Pride. If Axion and Queen Ady¨¢na did not have what it took to replace Theomitus, how could Mitakahn? He was the prince of no purpose, the second son. And he could see the approaching disaster coming. It was draining him. He was overtired. Mitakahn developed dark rings under his eyes. If only he could relent and get a good night¡¯s rest.


    After a couple of days in the mountains, although the royal family did not want to, they had to start thinking about returning to their beloved kingdom. There were a lot of people that depended on their leadership and guidance, and they had to reunite with their duties. Thinking and discussing were two very different tasks, the latter being much more difficult. For Axion, talking came very easy to him with the introduction of Euphrati to his life, but for Queen Ady¨¢na and Mitakahn they were still keeping to themselves and avoiding any chance of conversation or interaction.


    Axion was sitting with Euphrati on the same bench where they met in the middle of town when a villager gleefully approached them.


    ¡°Will you two be coming to the Festival tonight?¡±


    ¡°Festival?¡± repeated Axion.


    ¡°Of course, we will,¡± answered Euphrati as she turned to explain to Axion, ¡°This is an annual tradition here to celebrate the completion of the summer harvest. There will be food, games, and music. Don¡¯t worry! It will be a lot of fun. Do you think your mother and brother would like to come?¡±


    ¡°I doubt it, but I will go ask them,¡± said Axion as he left the bench and walked over to his family¡¯s tent.


    The tent was noticeably regal. It was not an ordinary tent, but looked more like a cluster of tents; equipped with three bedrooms, a common room, and attached to the front was a deck with a fire pit and rotisserie spike built right in. As Axion approached the tent, Mitakahn walked out.


    ¡°Mitakahn! I was looking for you¡­¡±


    Mitakahn looked up with no verbal response.


    ¡°¡­I¡­Euphrati was telling me about this festival that the town is having tonight, I was wondering if you and mother wanted to go,¡± suggested Axion.


    ¡°I just want to be left alone,¡± mumbled Mitakahn.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Axion said bluntly.

 Chapter 16: Chronis

    CHAPTER 16 ¨C CHRONIS


    Mitakahn walked off and Axion went inside to ask Queen Ady¨¢na to go with them to the festival. Mitakahn went to the outer limits of the village. Dark rosy trees stood like giants above him. This forest was very old. Mitakahn had never seen a red forest before. He marveled at the unique qualities of the wilderness terrain. It was a bright sunny day, and yet there was a thin blanket of smog covering the woods.


    The Burning Mountains were truly a bizarre place. Mitakahn took out his buck knife and began to throw it at one of the large red oak trees. The first time he tried it the knife¡¯s tip missed its target and the handle clanked against the tough bark. Mitakahn walked over to the knife, picked it up, cleaned it off, and returned back to his throwing spot. This time, when he threw it, the rotation of the blade was perfect, and it stuck deep into the bark.


    ¡°Nice throw, but I would be careful if I were you,¡± said a voice lurking from somewhere beside Mitakahn, ¡°It¡¯s a big forest and who knows what might wander right into your throwing knife mid-air¡­or who¡­¡±


    A swift burly man appeared from behind a tree. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I startled you, my name is Echo. I am one of the guards of the village. I was just on my round when I heard your racket.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize this village had guards. I¡¯ll be sure to tone down the ruckus,¡± Mitakahn bitterly responded to Echo¡¯s greeting.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I came across as annoyed, I was merely trying to make a joke.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the joking mood,¡± said Mitakahn as he pulled the knife out of the tree in a hostile manner and tucked it back into his sheath.


    ¡°Listen, I understand you don¡¯t know many people around here, and you and your family has been through some hard times recently-¡°


    ¡°Then you know enough to leave me to myself, thank you,¡± Mitakahn rudely cut off the villager trying to extend an olive branch.


    ¡°As you wish, I¡¯m sorry I bothered you,¡± said Echo, as he bowed and left Mitakahn¡¯s company.


    Mitakahn regretted treating the villager like that at first. Then his new found air of resentment made him feel better. He was no longer the prince who had to be nice to everyone. He was a different person now; he did not want to be the same person. He could not be. His father¡¯s death had symbolized a schism in his life, starting a new era.


    And in this new era, he was taking on a new identity. This new identity was not entirely known to Mitakahn, yet he thought he had it all figured out. Deep down at the core of it Mitakahn thought to himself ¡®I am no longer a boy with a father.¡¯ And that gave him permission to act uncharacteristically petulant. He agreed with his own cynical sense of logic and went about his business.


    Mitakahn walked further into the woods, careful not to be found by any more unwanted visitors. He came upon a mighty rock peering over a short cliff-side. Mitakahn always found comfort in these types of settings. From this high up, he could see the slow pillars of smoke rising into the air from the mountains below him. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    While Mitakahn was admiring the clouds he saw something moving within them. From this far away he could only describe it as a moving black speck. As it got closer to him, and its detail became clear, he realized it was a bird. Its graceful wings were enormous and powerful enough to be able to fly through the dense clouds, spreading the smoke out with the dancing spirals of its wingspan. This was no mere indigenous bird. Whatever it was, it was making its way towards Mitakahn.


    Head to head, its path took no turn or tangent, although moving somewhat erratically. it was flying to Mitakahn. At first, he was a little worried that he might have to fight some iron-strong bird on the mountainside. Then he noticed once again, the creature¡¯s gentle nature and graceful yet lopsided flight. It was not coming to attack him, and that intrigued Mitakahn. If it was not a predator out for prey, what was its interest in Mitakahn?


    The bird got close enough, now, for Mitakahn to make a clear observation of it. It had the face of a hawk, with a red chest, dark shining silver feathers on the edges of its wings and slightly crooked tail; and black, perfectly round eyes with golden yellow rings around them. This was certainly a wondrous species of bird.


    The hawk circled above Mitakahn once and then landed right beside him on the rock. They both looked straight forward at the landscape, Mitakahn with an innocent smile on his face. The first smile he had worn since Orion tackled him during the wake. He noted a definite affinity he shared for the animal kingdom, one rooted in his love for the lions of the royal garden. This intruder of his privacy was much more welcomed than the villager before. Mitakahn subtly turned his head to gander at the proud bird. Its chest was puffed out and its feather¡¯s clinked together as it got comfortable.


    Mitakahn caught a better look. The hawk¡¯s tail was actually metal. Mitakahn blinked in utter shock, a Silver-tipped Hawk, one of the rarest birds in the world, was sitting right beside him. The charming kestrel twitched its head towards Mitakahn, and they made brief eye contact. Mitakahn thought for sure the bird would fly away, but it was acting as if Mitakahn posed no threat. He was amazed at the boldness of this hawk. So, he turned back towards it, saying, ¡°And what is your name?¡±


    The bird screeched and cawed, and the piercing sound stung Mitakahn¡¯s ears. He cringed and rubbed his ears, and the bird screeched again. But this time it ruffled its feathers, and they chimed out. The chimes coupled with the screech in an unexpected manner. The combination of the two created a beautiful sound that was quite pleasing to Mitakahn¡¯s ears. In the muffled aftershock, he heard an echo. Whether it was in his head, or the bird was actually saying it, Mitakahn could hear a definitive word. And he could only assume that it was the answer to his question. So, he then said in a much more serious tone, ¡°Your name¡­.is Chronis?¡±


    The hawk gave another squawk and rustled its short chin feathers. Mitakahn laughed, he could not believe that he was actually communicating with a bird. The Silver-tipped Hawk fluttered its tail feathers as it tried and failed to remove an obtrusion.


    Mitakahn listened to the chromatic tones sounding off from the small collisions, and something was out of tune; sharp and flat notes that do not coincide with each other. Mitakahn looked carefully at the bird¡¯s metal feathers. There, underneath the silver-encrusted layer, a small twig was caught inside the bouquet of soft tail feathers. The poor majestic fowl clearly needed a hand. Mitakahn reached down slowly and carefully pulled the twig out from under the silver tail feathers.


    Chronis shook his entire body and reset his feather formation, a harmonious scale of melodic perfection emitted. Mitakahn flinched at the magic of natural music. The hawk looked at Mitakahn and then took off from the rock back into the sky. Chronis sang out in chorus with the chimes of his flapping wings as he reentered the clouds and Mitakahn responded, ¡°So long, friend.¡± Mitakahn watched as Chronis, the mighty Silver-tipped Hawk, turned back into an unrecognizable dot and thought to himself, ¡®what a majestic creature.¡¯ Perhaps, one day, their paths will cross again.

 Chapter 17: The Festival

    CHAPTER 17 ¨C THE FESTIVAL


    Meanwhile, back at the village, Axion found Queen Ady¨¢na sitting in the tent. He knelt down beside her and asked, ¡°Would you like to go for a walk, Mother?¡± She shook her head, but Axion persisted, ¡°Come on, it will do you good to get some fresh air.¡±


    He helped her up out of the chair and escorted her outside. There waiting in front of the tent for her was Euphrati. Axion introduced them to each other, and Queen Ady¨¢na now realized how Axion had come to get over his grief so quickly. Euphrati was beautiful: elegant eyes, rosy-red cheeks, and frizzy black hair, as if her hair had been slowly emitting a simmer of heat just like the mountain landscape. Ady¨¢na admired Euphrati, she was young, she was gorgeous, and she was in love.


    ¡°Mother, we would both like it¡­if you joined us¡­¡± proposed Axion.


    ¡°Join you where?¡± examined the queen.


    ¡°There is a festival just in town, we would like it if you came with us¡­it is a village tradition¡­and I know the entire town would be honored if you took part in the festivities¡­¡± explained Euphrati.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Ady¨¢na hesitantly said before catching Axion¡¯s eyes and giving into the will of her oldest son, ¡°¡­I suppose I could, just for a little while. Where is your brother?¡±


    ¡°I had asked him to come, but he shrugged it off and left for a hike,¡± informed Axion.


    ¡°I¡¯m worried about him, Axion. He seems very troubled¡­¡± proclaimed Queen Ady¨¢na.


    ¡°Yes, I have had similar thoughts, Mother. But for now, let us go enjoy the night,¡± requested Axion as the three of them walked off to the festival.


    Each one of them took to different parts of the Festival. Axion found one of the sporting booths. It was an archery contest. There were nine other contestants besides Axion. In the first round, only four of them hit the inside circle of the target. Axion was one of them. In the second round Axion was the only one to hit bullseye. He along with the closest runner-up advanced to the final round. The runner-up went first and hit the bullseye perfectly. Axion took a deep breath, loaded the arrow into his bow, looked up at the sky, mumbled some words underneath his breath, took a steady aim, and fired the arrow. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    It soared through the air steadily and accurately, and upon contact, stuck the bullseye over the other arrow causing it to unwedge itself and fall to the ground. The crowd cheered in wonder and excitement. The competitor conceded and shook Axion¡¯s hand in very high regard. Axion was awarded a medal for his winnings and left the contest booth an accomplished man. He wondered how many of the townsfolk knew his true identity. Their arrival to Ashtown wasn¡¯t exactly announced. That would have defeated the point of the retreat.


    Queen Ady¨¢na took to the food stand and tried the native cuisine of the village. After she feasted on a fire-roasted mutton chop, she was presented with an apple tart. She had eaten apple pie and apple muffins before in her kingdom¡¯s esteemed kitchen, but never like this. The apples were rich with flavor. The glaze was sweet and savory. The pastry that it was wrapped in was crunchy and flaky. She licked her lips in satisfaction and made sure to let the cooks know how incredible their food was.


    As Ady¨¢na was eating some other snacks on a picnic table, Euphrati had wandered out onto the dance floor right next to her. She danced by herself to a band of mandolins. Ady¨¢na watched on and her heart grew for Euphrati. She was so graceful and seemed to glide on the floor as she twirled around on her barefoot toes. Axion returned after winning his contest and sat by his mother, and they both regarded Euphrati, mother and son, two of the same mold.


    Soon the entire festival had circled around Euphrati dancing. Her hips and arms moved in rhythm similar to a flame in the wind. Queen Ady¨¢na nudged Axion to join her. Axion was no dancer, but he did want to be with her. He got to his feet and swallowed his pride. There was no other woman in the world he would do this for. Axion slowly approached her. As she spun around and saw him, she tripped on herself, lost her balance, and began to fall. Axion caught her in his arms, lifted her back up, and then spun her back around to her feet. He didn¡¯t realize he had that in him. Euphrati¡¯s eyes sparkled. She would remember this moment forever. The crowd clapped.


    Together, the two of them moved to all four corners of the floor, back and forth, in perfect groove and balance with each other. Axion never felt, nor had he ever danced like this before. Queen Ady¨¢na looked on with tear-filled eyes. She was so happy that her son had found Euphrati. He deserved to love someone the way that she had loved his father. Ady¨¢na¡¯s overwhelming sadness from being reminded of her love with the fallen king practically disabled her. She left the festival, unnoticed, and went back to her tent to wallow in her own despair and loneliness. No one could understand or relate to her and that was driving Ady¨¢na crazy. A condition she unwittingly shared with her youngest son.


    Axion and Euphrati danced until the festival was over. They were lost in each other¡¯s embrace. Axion never wanted this feeling to end. But soon it was pitch-black, and his mother had vanished. Axion no longer felt the way he did in the middle of the dance floor. He regretted not noticing his mother¡¯s disappearance and was scared to go back to the tent to find her. Instead, he sat with Euphrati alone on the picnic table staring at the stars. He could not help but gloat to Euphrati, as a nightcap, in vivid detail, over how he won the archery contest.


    The night concluded out in the forest as well. Mitakahn returned from his hike, still thinking about that majestic hawk that flew into his life; Axion bid goodnight to Euphrati, and they both went to bed. Axion joined Mitakahn and entered the tent. He told Mitakahn all about the day¡¯s events, their mother joining in the festivities, his archery winnings, of course, and Euphrati¡¯s dancing. The two princes found their mother inside, sound asleep, in her room at the far end of the tent. Mitakahn went to his room and was able to fall asleep after a trying day of both physical and emotional exertion.

 Chapter 18: Dark Attractors

    CHAPTER 18 ¨C DARK ATTRACTORS


    Mitakahn was startled awake. But upon his resurgence back into reality he immediately started to forget why his dream was so unbearable. Instead, he was wondering what he was doing back out in the forest in the middle of the night. He was lying flat on the dirt and twig, with his buck knife in his hand. He got himself up and failed to notice the words he sketched into the dirt¡­


    Carbon Terra


    Mitakahn tried to rationalize with himself. He used to sleepwalk when he was a kid. Axion would purposefully lock him out of his bedchambers when it happened and Mitakahn often woke up in the morning drooling on his own door.


    Everything looked different from the daytime. The trees no longer had that red shade. The twilight scattered a muted tone upon the trees. The cold of the night pressed against the hot smog emissions from the mountains and created a dense fog. The speckled fields of lunar light gave a whole new appeal to the forest. Mitakahn started walking back to town. He flipped his knife around by the handle in his hand, never catching the blade.


    Mitakahn¡¯s mind wandered along with him through the forest. He thought about his destiny and what his future might bring. He always had big dreams and feelings of greatness. He always thought his life would be significant. But now, in the wake of recent events, everything will change. Like a flip of the coin, he no longer wanted what he knew to be a good life. If anything, he wanted the complete opposite.


    Whatever his destiny may be, there was a crucial element missing, Mitakahn¡¯s father. Every time Mitakahn pictured his future, although not specific, Theomitus was always a part of it. And now that he was gone, Mitakahn had to rethink everything, but mostly about whether or not destiny was worthy enough to exist without him; because right now, it was not.


    To Mitakahn, if he did not fulfill his destiny it would be a testament to how important and crucial King Theomitus¡¯ presence and influence was in his life. To Mitakahn, this line of logic made all the sense in the world. Nothing and nobody could convince him otherwise. His mind was made up, and that was the bottom line. It almost made him feel better about getting expelled from the academy. Almost.


    A frightening howl in the distance startled Mitakahn. For the moment, his attention was averted from self-pity and self-loathing. But as soon as he scouted his surroundings, he went right back to his despair. He never used to feel like this. Optimism and resilience were replaced by pessimism and cynicism. He mocked the universe. He spat on nature¡¯s ways. If everything happens for a reason¡­¡°¡­What possible reason could there be for taking my father away?!¡± Mitakahn screamed because he knew no one was there. He fell to his knees and his words echoed around him, mixing between the trees.


    The howl sounded off again, this time, much closer. Mitakahn gripped his knife tightly and slid over behind a tree. He quickly and most importantly¡­quietly got back to his feet, still remaining low to the ground. He poked his head out to see if the creature had gotten any closer. He could not see anything. Mitakahn panned the forest searching for movement. What was it with him and getting caught in the night by a predator?


    Suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes and a twig snapped from behind him. He turned around but again saw nothing. His heart was pounding within his chest. He felt surrounded. His stress was rising. Mitakahn wished he was back in his tent, no, he wished he was back at home within his city walls. Why did they ever leave? Who knew what was happening back home right now, while they were wasting time here in this small town, collectively licking their fresh emotional wounds.


    Another growl, almost whispered in his ear, came from back behind Mitakahn. He turned around, again, to face the same way as the howls, and he saw two massive, glimmering eyes in the darkness staring right back at him. This was no mere wild animal. Something unnatural was hunting him. There was no unseeing what he just saw. To be honest, Mitakahn didn¡¯t need to see it was there. He could feel its presence and it was terrifying. He began to have trouble breathing, as it moved closer. The full moon revealed itself from behind the clouds and casted more light onto the foggy scene.


    At the sight of the most frightening beast, he ever laid eyes on, Mitakahn readjusted his knife nervously and it slipped out of his hands. The tips of his fingers tingled, they were numb. A dark, ragged monster of a wolf was staring him down. Its mangled fangs covered a mouth that was larger than Mitakahn¡¯s head. He had studied wolves at school. It was far bigger than the average wolf, rivaling the size of a horse. It''s dark black fur was long, unkempt, and altogether unnatural.


    As if formed in the fires of darkness and shadow, this beast drooled at the mouth for the taste of fresh blood. Its eyes glowed with disdain, red and black, and in the iris¡­ a pure glowing pale yellow. It looked more like a demon than a wolf. Mitakahn was unable to move. He shivered in helplessness. He wanted to ask the gods for their divine intervention. He prayed to the heavens. He received no answer. He was a dead man.


    That was not such a bad option. To be reunited with his father would be a tremendous gift. In his father¡¯s presence he was never a second son. And once again, cynicism consumed his thoughts like a rolling fog, but this time it served as a moment of clarity. He completely forgot about the threat staring him down; the danger he was in. He had accepted it already.


    The beast¡¯s magic was strong and Mitakahn now worried if he died, whether or not he would be able to meet his father in the heavens of Afterlight. For there was no doubt that Theomitus was righteous enough to join the gods, but Mitakahn and his newfound principles danced dangerously close to never achieving Magnascension. He cringed at the possibility of coming back to this world as a cursed, wretched beast like the one he was cowering in front of as it circled Mitakahn on the floor; brewing him full of dark thoughts, getting him ready to devour. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Mitakahn was once again on his knees, practically hypnotized by the monster¡¯s fierce presence. Mitakahn wallowed in the shadow of grief and resentment, just as Queen Ady¨¢na did upon seeing Axion and Euphrati dancing at the Festival. Mitakahn, in a lackadaisical daze, had no idea that the monster wolf now stood right above him. His spirit seemed to be an appetizer for the wolf. There was no doubt, now, that the spawn of shadow was enchanting Mitakahn into this desolate spiral.


    He was heart-broken, and that was all he could dwell on. His pupils grew dark in sadness. Mitakahn hated his life. His dark pupils stretched across his eyes and pushed the white out. He hated himself. And there was nothing he could do about it. His eye sockets grew in his head, as his heavy black eyeballs took over his face. His veins ran thick and covered his face. He no longer looked like himself. He renounced the gods for selfishly taking his father away from him. And deep down, at the bottom of it all, he resented his father for leaving.


    Mitakahn¡¯s swollen black eyes were ready to burst, instead blue flames ignited around them in full blaze. The dark wolf closed its eyes in satisfaction and opened its mouth, ready to bite. A mighty screech echoed through the trees, and Mitakahn felt a shiver of unwelcomed joy rush down his spine.


    The familiar screech chimed true in his ears. It was Chronis, the Silver-tipped Hawk. He had come back to return the favor and help Mitakahn. He swooped down low and whacked the wolf in the face with his metal tail. The connection was cut. The dark wolf was temporarily distracted from Mitakahn as he began to come back to reality. Mitakahn looked up. His eyes shrank back down to normal size and lost the color clouding his sight. He shook his head; he could not fully comprehend what was happening. All that fear from the monster was turning his skin white. It was draining the life out of him without making physical contact.


    He was in awe of Chronis¡¯ bravery, but it was not over yet. The dark wolf still stood right over him. All he could do was stay still and pretend like he was still under the somber spell. He slowly stirred his head and put on a frown, praying that Chronis was not finished.


    Chronis landed on a nearby branch and banged his tail against the tree, giving off a loud ding and deafening dong. The pure tones rang throughout the woods like a bell tower. It drove the wolf mad. The dark wolf jumped up on its hind legs and with a snarling roar, howled once again into the moonlit sky. The moon bulged, tricking Mitakahn into thinking it got closer. It summoned strength in its howl, and turned its attention back on Mitakahn, still huddled before it. The dark wolf licked his chops and went to bite the nape of Mitakahn¡¯s neck.


    A spear sailed through the air and pierced the wolf in the side of the chest. As it squirmed, Mitakahn tucked and rolled out of the way. It kicked and writhed in pain. Mitakahn got back on his feet and ran to where the spear was thrown. There, stealthy hidden in the dark, was the village guard Echo; the same villager Mitakahn was so quick to dismiss and insult. He ran over to the guard¡¯s side, mumbling incoherently, giving him thanks and praise, and asking him for forgiveness all at the same time. Echo leaned over and said, ¡°Quiet prince, we are not yet in the clear!¡±


    He pulled a bow out and armed it with an arrow, but the wolf was gone. Echo looked around, he could not find it.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t just retreat.¡±


    Echo worried giving the prince that little bit of attention distracted them long enough to give the beast the upper hand. They must get back to the village where safety can be found in numbers.


    Another screech sounded off from Chronis, he turned his crisp-feathered body and put his tail in the moonlight, turning the silvery tail and angling the moonlight into a spotlight. The extraordinary bird moved the light to the exact position of the wolf. It was no longer hidden giving Echo the opportunity to fire his arrow. It pierced the dark wolf directly in the head. The monster wolf gave a meager howl and retreated back into the shadows of the forest.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Your bird saved our lives,¡± Echo exhaled.


    ¡°What was that thing? ¡­some sort of wolf?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°That was no wolf. That was a monster from the old world called a berserker.¡±


    ¡°A berserker?¡± repeated Mitakahn in the form of a question.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. I always thought they were myths. Local legends say they were beasts that survived the days when the gods walked MagnaThora, a mix of man and wolf. Wolf tribesman captured and tortured by the gods of darkness and treated like animals¡­until they¡­ turned¡­¡± Echo explained further, ¡°Hungry for human blood these berserkers took the form of wolves to strike fear deep into the hearts of the bravest men. And then they were set loose on the world. You¡¯re lucky that it didn¡¯t bite you. When bitten you turn into one, and once you turn into a berserker you never turn back. And you live forever as an agent of evil.¡±


    ¡°How do you know so much about them?¡± inquired Mitakahn.


    ¡°I know many things concerning MagnaThoran myth. I keep a library in the basement of my house.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I treated you so poorly before. I have been very selfish lately.¡±


    ¡°It is okay, Prince Mitakahn, I can understand what you¡¯re going through. It is very hard losing a loved one. Come¡­let us return to the village. I suggest you keep this attack to yourself. No one wants to believe such danger lurks so close to home.¡± forewarned Echo.


    ¡°I will, and thank you, once again¡­¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, prince. Plus, it wasn¡¯t just me. Your loyal pet won the night,¡± admitted Echo.


    ¡°Oh, Chronis you mean? I only met him today.¡± Mitakahn tried a whistle. Chronis flew over and landed on Mitakahn¡¯s left shoulder. Echo lifted his hand to pet the hawk on the back. Chronis did not flinch and did not fly away. He proudly let the humans fawn over him.


    ¡°Just met him today and he¡¯s already trained, that¡¯s some bird,¡± praised Echo.


    The three of them returned to the village. Mitakahn and his companions parted ways: Echo went back to patrolling the perimeter, Chronis flew into the trees, and Mitakahn returned to his tent; whether he could sleep or not, he stayed in the safe confines of his room.

 Chapter 19: Potion Making

    CHAPTER 19 ¨C POTION MAKING


    After a week, the royal family still had not talked about returning to the capital. Queen Ady¨¢na kept to herself in the tent and Axion was fully swept up by the enchantment of love, spending all his time with Euphrati. Their bond had grown immensely. They were inseparable and acted as though they had been together their entire lives. Euphrati fit right in with the royal family, a necessary addition after Theomitus¡¯ departure. Euphrati would help the family resume its natural order of four.


    Even in Mitakahn¡¯s dark moods and deep depressions he still treated her like a long lost sister, and Queen Ady¨¢na looked to Euphrati to save her son from his suffering. This sealed Axion¡¯s love for her. He knew deep down in his heart that she was meant to be with him. It was the only feeling Axion could rely on. Euphrati was Axion¡¯s new foundation. The first step in his recovery and a crucial element in Axion¡¯s eventual taking of the throne. For Axion, he had just lost one of the most important people in his life, only to be replaced by a love greater than any he would ever come to know. Fate worked in mysterious ways.


    Mitakahn had also found two new friends who helped him turn over a new leaf. No longer resentful and self-loathing¡­for now, he found some peace in visiting Echo¡¯s library and exploring the mountains with Chronis. Echo told him more about berserkers and the ancient legends of the land while Mitakahn told him about the Ignaleos Cor and the flaming wings of the phoenix priests.


    ¡°You see Mitakahn, the berserker was drawn to you because of your contact with the Ignaleos Cor. It¡¯s your tampering with the Cor that brought the demon north in the first place.¡±


    ¡°What is going to happen to me?¡±


    ¡°History tells us one thing¡­experience another¡­all I know is the berserker¡¯s gaze brought it out of you. If we were able to harness that exposure power we can find out exactly what physical contact with the Cor has done to you.¡±


    ¡°You would be able to do all that?¡±


    ¡°Assuming we could kill the berserker to begin with¡­Yes, I believe there is an extraction potion in Mandrake¡¯s Mandates that involves Eye of Berserker. It¡¯s extremely dangerous but doable.¡±


    ¡°¡­Mandrake? Oh, I think I remember from my lessons at the academy. The warlocks were once legendary sages, and he wrote an encyclopedia on all of their supernatural doctrine and relics.¡±


    ¡°That might be a bit of an oversimplification but other than that, spot on, Mitakahn. I have Mandrake¡¯s entire collection in my library. There¡¯s a volume on imbuemancy, specifically exposures that can do what that fell beast did to you, only in a controlled state, no side-dish of fear-drinking or certainty of death.¡±


    ¡°Great, so let¡¯s go find and kill that berserker.¡±


    Echo shook his head affirmatively. Mitakahn was relieved. He appeared to be onboard with the crazy plan they just hatched as if they were on the same wavelength. Mitakahn found a piece of his father inside of Echo he was not expecting and with that a tiny piece of his heart was restored.


    Mitakahn then realized that he would spend the rest of his life doing this. Slowly replacing the void left with small stitches made from the bonds of all the people in his life that reminded him of Theomitus.


    They decided that night to camp in the same stretch of woods where the first attack happened. Mitakahn was no stranger to using himself as bait, only this time he was not alone. Echo was there to watch his back and was quite fond of repeatedly mentioning their silent partner.


    ¡°I bet your little friend is up there right now in the trees waiting for his heroic moment.¡±


    ¡°We can only hope.¡±


    ¡°In order to pass the time, would you prefer to hear a story or a song?¡±


    ¡°Is sitting in silence out of the question?¡±


    Echo gave Mitakahn a look of disapproval.


    ¡°If you insist¡­I wouldn¡¯t mind hearing more about Mandrake.¡±


    Echo¡¯s put-out visage quickly vanished with a smile.


    ¡°Ah yes, a worthy tale for a starry night,¡± Echo took a deep breath, ¡°There were ancient times and there were modern times, somewhere in between there was a time when historians found a way to convert all the supernatural legends of MagnaThora into practical applications. No one was more famous for this than Mathias Mandrake. But to understand his story, you must hear it from the beginning.¡±


    Legend of the Warlock¡¯s Veil


    They have always been watching. From the other side of reality, the phantoms could always see us, but we were na?ve to them. The phantoms were MagnaThoran gods of old, banished in their time and for all eternity. Every day of the rest of their infinite lives spent on one thought, one promise to themselves¡­ one purpose alone¡­crossing back over.


    There were small pockets of concentrated magic between the realms, cosmic thresholds. Although there was never a breach from the phantom side, man proceeded to unwittingly get closer and closer to finding a way. In Epitaph City treasure-hunting nomads brought MagnaThoran artifacts together under one roof for the first time in history. They studied the weapons and jewels and found patterns in the comparisons and contrasts. Runes and spells were discerned from the science behind the magical treasures. Man tried to bring the phantom realm to life in the real world by translating what they learned into their own language. Two sides of the same coin, what were doorways to the phantoms were merely objects to man.


    People forget that the warlocks were not first. After the age of gods and the age of crucifire kings there was a vacuum of power. Criminals challenged the major houses of the kingdoms and called themselves warlords. The nomad historians decided to take action for the good of all MagnaThora. They finally unlocked the secrets of the cosmos and in equal response anointed their order the warlocks.


    The first gem they were able to crack was the Oculus Veil. Anyone who used the veil could commune with the phantoms of the NetherRealm. Eventually the warlocks were able to bind their spells with supernatural forces, enchanting MagnaThora with legitimate magic.


    After a couple of years, the warlocks from Epitaph City grew into a following bigger than any one kingdom. They held dominion over all magicraft, distributing its power deliberately. They alone handled the source of their supernatural connection. The warlock masters kept an unearthly secret only privy to themselves and a select few.


    Master Mandrake was a bookworm, a warlock through and through. He remained in the safe confines of libraries and published his mandates for the annals of history, quickly bringing the legend of the warlocks to the forefront of civilized society.


    Sadly, this is a tragic tale, one which has a predictable ending. The truth behind the science of the magic was lost in a world that was both amazed and amused by cheap parlor tricks. It was never taken seriously and after a time the novelty wore off. Now a warlock is no more feared or respected than a snake-oil salesman.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    It got late into the night before they knew it. Mitakahn was too distracted by the story to notice the dying fire. The flames were now as small as rolling embers on the floor. And the color had turned into a maroon shade unfit for a natural flame. A familiar feeling took a hold of him. It could only be described as¡­ well¡­ It was pure dread. In the wake of the diminishing fire, Mitakahn caught a glimpse of something horrifying on the other side of the fire-pit¡­plump, glowing, yellowish-white eyes. It was a berserker.


    The demon wolf stepped into the light of the quieting fire. It was not just any berserker. The firelight confirmed it, revealing the gash on its head. This was the same berserker that attacked him. Mitakahn wanted to scream so he could warn Echo, but when he opened his mouth a soundless air meagerly escaped. He was frozen. The fright and fear stilled his heart. Fighting to keep consciousness, Mitakahn¡¯s heart pounded within his chest. His body was desperately trying to act, but his mind was shutting down.


    Fear was spreading throughout his body like an accelerated version of the late king¡¯s disease. Mitakahn wanted to think about how miserable his life had become and wallow in his self-pity. But when his sight fell upon his unsuspecting companion, concern for his well-being flooded his mind. Mitakahn¡¯s true feelings shot back up from inside his chest, vanquishing his victimization. Mitakahn no longer gave into the temptation of the berserker¡¯s dark magic.


    Mitakahn could feel a tingle in his fingertips. He moved his left hand and stretched his fingers. Movement! He jumped to his feet, unsheathed his sword, took a deep breath, and yelled from his diaphragm, ¡°ECHO! LOOK OUT!¡±


    The berserker gnarled at Mitakahn¡¯s vocal defiance and Echo was suddenly aware of the situation. The berserker leapt at Mitakahn and he quickly defended its attack with a sword parry and a dodge.


    Mitakahn was thrown off his feet but bounced right back up again. Echo followed Mitakahn¡¯s lead and took off running back towards camp. The berserker was distracted by Echo¡¯s scurrying for the moment when Mitakahn jumped on the opportunity. He struck down with his sword, nearly missing the beast entirely, and sliced off its tail. The berserker did not flinch.


    It turned back around towards Mitakahn, and he felt the cold chill return to his spine. The dark wolf howled, and the clouds parted, revealing the full moon. Upon the moon¡¯s face shining down on them, its tail re-grew completely with unnatural speed. Mitakahn took a step backwards bewildered and started to trip on his clumsy heel.


    Before he could turn to run he lost his balance and toppled over. The berserker was in no rush. It took gentle steps toward Mitakahn, trying to entice him back under its spell. Mitakahn began to feel drowsy. As if it fed more on his bad feelings than it could on his flesh. Getting light-headed, he lost the ability to react quickly. The berserker¡¯s carnivorous fangs, now visibly drooling closer and closer to Mitakahn, delivered an icy fear. Mitakahn was helplessly falling victim to the berserker¡¯s control again.


    He tried to get up, but he was rendered inert by the time he got to his knees. And alas, he found himself back in the same position, knelt down before the wicked berserker, powerless. Mitakahn¡¯s head swung like a ball slowly dangling on a flimsy axis. His eyes rolled back inside his head, and his mouth hung open. He was fully paralyzed. The berserker stood in front of Mitakahn, with the fire now roaring behind it in a maroon-red glow from the evil energy spike in the atmosphere, ready to feed.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡± screamed out Echo, sword drawn shaking nervously.


    The tension had broken between Mitakahn and the berserker. And Mitakahn could regain his movement. He slid his knife slowly from his belt as the berserker began to turn around towards Echo. They were unwittingly playing a successful game of alley-cat and cobble-mice, causing the berserker to keep changing his mind over its prey. Stolen story; please report.


    Mitakahn plunged the dagger into its gut, but the berserker did not stir, it did not squeal, it did not kick. It simply pulled itself off the blade and ran towards Echo, kicking over Mitakahn in the process. The berserker instantly caught up with him and tackled Echo to the ground. Mitakahn watched from beside the fire as the wolf sunk its gruesome fangs into Echo¡¯s back.


    ¡°NO!¡± yelped Mitakahn as he searched around for his knife. Knowing that even if he did stab the wolf, no good would come of it, Mitakahn was at his wit¡¯s end. He screamed; screamed for help, screamed for someone, anyone, but no one came. To his pleasant surprise, a screech from the sky echoed back at Mitakahn.


    One which gave Mitakahn strength.


    He threw his dagger with all his might, and it sailed across the night sky. The knife landed its point in the dark wolf¡¯s back, cracking its spine in half. The wolf stumbled to the ground and twisted itself free. With a turn of the neck, it snapped its spine back in place and lunged at Mitakahn. Its patience was spent. It was no longer going to toy with its prey. Mitakahn, now weaponless and his companion defeated, stood waiting for the berserker¡¯s masterstroke.


    The now roaring maroon fire was parted down the middle and in flew a glimmering silver bird. Chronis, the Silver-tipped Hawk, flapped his wings, abruptly redirecting the fire into the berserker¡¯s face and propelled his winged feathers forward. Out shot silver feathers pointed and sharp. The silver feathers flew through the air like arrows and cut clean through the dark wolf¡¯s skull. The Berserker stopped dead in its tracks. The flames faded back to a normal orange-red flare.


    Mitakahn raced over to Echo¡¯s side. He was on the ground, lying as still as a corpse. Mitakahn expected the worst. He turned Echo over. Chronis landed on the other side of Echo, as if he was also checking to see if he was okay. Echo was awake, in shock, it didn¡¯t look like he was in pain, but his back was already stained blood-red. He got himself up with the help of Mitakahn and mumbled.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°I will be okay.¡±


    ¡°You told me that people who get bit, turn.¡±


    ¡°I will never let it get that far.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to hold you to that.¡±


    ¡°We need to gather what we can.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what you need, and I will get it,¡± Mitakahn offered.


    ¡°The tail, a claw, the heart, both eyes, two bask of blood, and however many of those silver feathers your little friend dropped. I have a feeling they will make excellent mixing instruments. Once we get back to my library I will brew your concoction as promised.¡±


    Mitakahn carefully extracted the items Echo requested. He propped the carcass atop a bucket they brought with them and split the matted leather fur in twain. The rank red drained out of the fell beast and into the bucket, much more than two bask. Mitakahn threw the eyes and the claw in the bucket, along with the heart which he took extra special care in removing. He dangled the tail around his neck and helped Echo get to his feet. Chronis swooped down and latched onto the bucket with his talons. He slowed to a near halt and struggled behind them keeping the bucket in a level hover.


    By the time they returned to the village it was nearly dawn. Chronis got the bucket down the stairs and released it onto the dark oak table. Immediately gathering his full strength back, the silver squall dashed over to the windowsill and perched on it, watching them intently. The first thing Echo did when they got back to his house was take out a small bottle filled with golden liquid and remove his shirt.


    ¡°Is that ether?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Ether is the most coveted substance known to man. It stops aging and with enough of it you could live forever. How did you come across it? How did you get any of this?¡±


    ¡°Usually by the same means, I read about it in a book and then I find the item.¡±


    ¡°Just like that, huh?¡±


    ¡°Just like that,¡± he smirked.


    Echo prudently let loose one drop of ether from the bottle. It hit his hand and he immediately bounced it to the gash on his back where the berserker got him. He rubbed the ether into the wound. Before Echo closed the bottle he lifted it over his head and tipped it sending a drop tumbling into his eye. The bottle went back on the shelf. Mitakahn watched Echo¡¯s eye flash gold as he blinked in the ether.


    Echo cleared his throat, preoccupied with setting up for their experiment. But Mitakahn knew what would happen next. Like a gasp of wind rolling sand up a dune, the open wound on Echo¡¯s back closed itself. The red irritation lit up from within and cleansed itself back to a vibrant flesh-tone matching the rest of Echo¡¯s back. It looked like the sun had briefly shown inside Echo. He was completely healed without skipping a beat.


    ¡°And to think¡­all the time my father spent wasting away, all of the doctors and medicines we tried¡­that a cure was just up the road in the mountains.¡±


    ¡°The ether is not a cure-all, especially if you try to put it up against a disease of untraceable origin. There is no reason to think it could have saved your father. Do not put that burden on yourself, prince.¡±


    Echo put on a bluish gray tunic with a silver ribbon weaving the collar to the center of his neck and chest. He found Mandrake¡¯s volumes on the second shelf from the bottom in a bookcase that spanned the entire lateral wall of the basement. He plucked the correct volume from its place and fingered through to exposures.


    ¡°Where is it,¡± he mumbled to himself, ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon I know I saw you somewhere¡­¡±


    Mitakahn watched him walk the book back to the table.


    ¡°Is your name even really Echo?¡±


    ¡°I have had many names, most people do. Even your family, the Arkenoir house, was once known as the Arkenorths.¡±


    ¡°Trivial facts about my own kingdom will not dissuade me from my investigation.¡±


    ¡°And just what are you investigating, Mitakahn?¡±


    ¡°Have I not been clear?¡± he looked around as if there were other people in the room, Chronis squawked back at him, and he continued, ¡°Your true identity.¡±


    ¡°My mother named me Cohen. My father gave me the surname Quill. But that name means nothing to you. What about this name? Ephearian.¡±


    ¡°I thought I heard you mention it in the legend of the warlocks. I know of it. I¡¯ve studied the Ethereal prophecy.¡±


    ¡°Then it is I who wonders why it took you until right this moment to finally realize the relevance of such an order.¡±


    ¡°I am no ephearian and neither are you. The ephearian are extinct.¡±


    ¡°It is not a social club, Mitakahn. You have come into direct contact with the magic of MagnaThora, unlocking the first of three doors that makes an ephearian.¡±


    ¡°How do you know so much?¡±


    Mitakahn tried to recall his lessons from third year history. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. So much of his memory got washed away after the funeral, much more than he bargained for. It would take Mitakahn awhile to get it all back. Sadly, he could not remember the other parts of going ephearian, or even what an ephearian was really. All he had to do was ask and Echo surely would¡¯ve told him but in this raw stage of newfound persona Mitakahn struggled to get out of the way of his own ego. Echo was quick at work, anyway, merely giving Mitakahn the business to entertain himself while he gathered the ingredients.


    ¡°Now, I am no master, just a mere home-schooled student but exposures are basic enough. Not simple imbuemancy but not as complex as restoratives. They are about as complicated as it gets without involving ether.¡±


    Echo rambled on without looking away from what he was doing.


    ¡°Exposure potions are fairly cut and dry. The one we will use draws out any hidden potential from within the drinker. To our benefit we know exactly what we are looking for, the only thing is¡­the Ignaleos Cor is random in its nature, so we can¡¯t know for sure what to expect.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the potion called?¡± Mitakahn asked with peak curiosity.


    ¡°Trillion¡¯s Syphon ¡ª two larpin seeds (grounded), pinch of komodo myrrh, gragnyre fleece, one part cherub blood, eye of berserker, and three parts morticomb dry spirit.¡±


    ¡°The concoction is highly flammable, but that¡¯s the point,¡± Echo explained, ¡°Put a spark to the gragnyre and the whole thing lights up. What¡¯s left I can cut with orchard ale.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound so bad.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, if we do this we don¡¯t know what is going to happen. You have to be absolutely sure you are up for the challenge.¡±


    ¡°The way I see it¡­ if it gets me any closer to figuring out what killed my father, there¡¯s no choice to be made.¡±


    ¡°I admire your devotion to your father. Even in death you still hold his vigil.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all I have left.¡± Mitakahn looked down.


    Echo looked away, searching for something to say.


    ¡°Well think about it this way, prince. You are just accelerating the process of something that would happen to you sooner or later. Since you stepped through that portal you now walk a different path.¡±


    ¡°And yet my brother has felt nothing.¡±


    ¡°You also told me your cousin Cipher admitted to a change. It affects every person differently, some later than others. In my studies, subjects exposed to the Cor who develop latent effects from the magic have a much more potent reaction. By activating it now, perhaps you will be splitting the difference.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re a gambler too,¡± Mitakahn said without making it a question.


    ¡°Still trying to puzzle together my sorted past?¡±


    ¡°Echo, you spoke of my father¡¯s death just before as if it was no big deal, that level of discretion I can appreciate but with all due respect I can¡¯t trust anyone when it feels like death is personally out to get me.¡±


    ¡°You do not need to fear me.¡±


    ¡°I find your inability to be upfront suspicious. That is enough reason.¡±


    Echo did not want to push the prince any further, so he focused on bringing the ingredients together. He grinded the larpin seeds in the mortar and held it over an ironclad cup tapping the back and spilling the seed dust into the cup. He pinched the komodo myrrh and threw it in. With a bottle of cherub blood in one hand and a bottle of morticomb dry spirit in the other he measured out the doses by eye.


    Echo took a min-clothe from the bench and rolled it out on the table. At the center of the roll were the two silver feathers Chronis assassinated the berserker with. He used them as utensils together in one hand. The pointed ends lifted the berserker eye from the bucket to the cup. He stuffed the rest of the cup with gragnyre fleece letting it poke out of the top.


    Echo scratched the pointy end of the silver tail feather up the length of the other one. The resulting spark grabbed a hold of the fleece and burned all the way into the cup. As soon as the spirit ignited, the flame swallowed the contents of the cup. Echo stuck a metal feather in and stirred the viscous fluid together. As it fused it smoldered and foamed. He let it breathe while he went upstairs to get the orchard ale. He came back down with a freshly tapped bottle.


    ¡°Here, try this.¡±


    Mitakahn took a sip. It was quite enjoyable, hints of grove-apple over a strong hoppy taste, bittersweet and easy to drink. Mitakahn took another sip and Echo yanked the bottle back, he poured the rest of the ale into the cup with the potion and stirred it one last time. It was ready for ingestion.


    Echo slid the cup over to Mitakahn who just stared at it.


    ¡°Good luck.¡±


    Mitakahn picked up the cup, still refusing to break eye contact with it.


    ¡°Epitome of grace.¡±


    Mitakahn closed his eyes and lifted the back of the cup before he felt the ale hit his mouth. He swallowed most of it not even noticing the change until the after-taste hit the back of his tongue, making him cough. Not just one cough but a fit-full. The coughing took a hold of Mitakahn as if he was choking, but he breathed freely. It was his body physically mistaking the struggle to maintain consciousness for choking.


    With his chin being forced up into the air Mitakahn could feel his eyeballs rolling back and his eyelids closing. He fought to keep it from happening. He tried to kick his eyelids open, make a muscle out of them. The coughing subsided and he was able to snap his eyes wide awake only to find a blue earth, reminiscent of the gem-portal.


    Echo watched the two blue flames in the center of the room dance while they stole the light from the rest of the basement. The flames were fueled by Mitakahn¡¯s eyes. The power was overwhelming Mitakahn, he couldn¡¯t tell if he was excited or nervous about what was happening to him. Once he figured out how to stop letting it grow he tried reeling the sensation back. His attempts were successful, and the flames quieted down to his pupils.


    ¡°Mitakahn?¡± Echo checked in, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­I¡¯m gaining control.¡± Nope.


    Mitakahn released a cerulean charge into the bookshelf, shaking the books on the rack. It startled Chronis on the windowsill who then quickly proceeded to make his leave of the basement. Mitakahn was able to curve the effervescent shockwave into the ceiling. The blue flare doubled tenfold, forcing its way out of his head, throwing him backwards onto the floor with a bang.

 Chapter 20: Change of Mind

    CHAPTER 20 ¨C CHANGE OF MIND


    Too much mist, sludge, and marsh floors. Can¡¯t really move, have to, can¡¯t stop. Slow climbing seems smarter as I watch all my men rush past me. I watch in horror from the front, and chills run, in bad anticipation, down my back. They are devoured. No less frightening than the scariest of nightmares. They are crushed and tossed around as though they weren¡¯t men at all. Their bodies soak into the ground before I can get close enough, one with nature once again. Now it is just me. I trek, I voyage, I journey, I seek. Why do I search? What is this creature behind me in the mist? Is there anything to search for? It is all gone. Just then the mist fades into darkness.


    I can feel them all around me, yet I do not see them. Threats of night. I reach for my sword. Nothing is there. There is no hope, only darkness. I will surely lose again. I clench my hands into fists, bracing myself for a first attack. Knocked upside the head, darkness replaced by a black sight; I come to¡­


    Atop a misty peak with a grand temple behind me, I peer down to see the sunken marshes where my comrades had fallen. Who would bring me up here? The lights begin to fade out again. Here comes the same evil, the same evil that has endured so many times before, too many times. From what beyond I do not know I can see the light of a hero. A crimson crown among the utter oblivion shines as a beacon of hope. The light radiates from the sword in the king¡¯s hand.


    I reach for my sword. Its cold-burning handle brings life to my cutting arm. I pull it out of the sheath. As the blade comes out the crimson shine catches the sun¡¯s radiance out of the gloomy clouds, and the blade becomes so bright it catches fire.


    A white flame burns from the helm, bringing out the faces of the enemies into my sight. Ugly demons, old myths of legend attack me. Crawling faster than natural, it pains to look at. They claw and bite at you only to turn you. Take your pure blood and burn it into terror. Once the terror hits your heart it poisons you. The terror turns to darkness. The darkness breeds hate. In hate lives evil. Evil turns you rotten. And rotted you become them. I swing to keep them at a distance. They come at me for the light, even though they reject anything but darkness.


    The light burns as I sweep across the chests of the creatures. Black ooze erupts out of the flame slicing open the shadowed body. I retake my stance as they collide like meteors to the ground, obliterating the darkness. All the crumbs of what used to be demons were gone, blended back into the earth. I hold the sword in my hand; I can feel its power. With this power I have the strength to conquer any obstacle. I can feel its glare on my face. It doesn¡¯t burn me, but warms me, it feels familiar. It is the sun on my face.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    Mitakahn tried to let go of something in his hand that wasn¡¯t there. A deep tremble coursed up his arm and down his spine to his heart, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.


    ¡°My gods¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn are you okay?¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Your face exploded in blue fire knocking you unconscious. Then you woke up and walked out here.¡±


    ¡°I was¡­it was¡­so beautiful and so real¡­¡±


    ¡°Your dream?¡±


    ¡°It didn¡¯t feel like a dream.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn look at me,¡± Echo turned the prince¡¯s gaze from the dawn, ¡°the Cor has revealed itself to you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°It has been a long night. I suggest you go back and get some rest. Maybe unconsciousness on your terms will hone your new ability.¡±


    Mitakahn felt unsure of himself and in his fugue state took Echo¡¯s advice without question. He walked back to his tent with nothing but the morning dew filling his nostrils, painting a strong sense over this moment for his memories. He got back to his bed before anyone was awake. In no time he fell asleep even with the morning stealing back the sky.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    I wake up in a dark room with luscious shades of shadow lining the walls, an impression of imprisonment. The vindictive room is mocking my suffering. I peel at the walls. My nails shift upon my fingers as their edges grind into strange matter. A shiver folds down my spine. My depth perception is off in the cold dark black, but I feel as if the walls are closing in on me. There by a window, the only window in the room, the stars light the ground.


    A figure sleeps in the bed, with another dark figure standing over it, holding a glaring dagger.


    The dagger plunges into the victim on the bed, and the screams ring out and float over to my ear. I know that voice. It cannot be. I throw myself at the window to try and break it so I can save him. Save my kin, save my family. I can¡¯t get out. The dagger re-surfaces and then goes in for another strike. The screams shatter my composure. I cannot stand this. My father is dying out there! And there is nothing I can do about it. I scream to match his anguish and in my release I look up, and see an unfinished house, a roof of night sky and stars. I dig my hands back into the wall. It moves like thick mud. I lift my weight up. I can get out of the room if I move quickly. I get over the wall and fall to the floor.


    When I stand back up the room has vanished. The murder atop the hill is gone as well. I am surrounded by trees. Through the night sky I can see little besides the trees, and I am worried that I will not get back to the previous scene, whatever that was. And save¡­who was it again? My memory is fleeting. I must press on. Walking through the forest I get a feeling of familiarity, I try to hold onto it, in hopes of retrieving my fallen memories.


    There in the distance! I run to catch up to it. But it narrowly stays out of reach. It looks like a diamond. The most beautiful diamond I¡¯ve ever seen. I MUST GET IT! I leap to grab it, but it flies across the valley. It now looks as small as a raindrop. But wait¡­a figure surrounds it, forming out of thin air, an animal.


    The diamond is now a twinkle in its eye. Bluish-yellow piercing eyes. I am no longer standing, but floating, floating in space beside the sun. I cannot breathe. I have no need to breathe. I marvel at the universe with my companion. But all is not right. The moon clicks and clocks as it orbits directly in front of the sun. The devious rock moves to sour the credit of the mightiest stars. And there in the distance slowly swings the world, unaware, unable to do anything to stop this awful event.


    The moon makes its final move and blots out the sun. Light is completely eclipsed from the earth. It looks dark, depressing. All the colors and shades have changed for the worst. I cannot just sit idly by and do nothing. I convince the sun to put me in motion. With a solar flare, a beautiful bright red ribbon whips me towards the moon. The moon is dark controlled as if by some unnatural force. I immediately regret my decision to attack. The shadow leaps out of the moon and reaches for me. I look back for the Sun¡¯s help, but nothing. It¡¯s no use, invading my sight to black.


    Do you dream when all you see is black? I walk, in the black, not knowing where I am going, or where I was. Am I even walking? No. Red clouds on a missing horizon. They approach with the haste of a storm. The first drops rain down. They spiral down towards me, as they paint the map into life and vision. The red clouds are of bad blood, and the black rain is nothing more than dirty tears.


    Sometimes the only way to let go of something is to let go of everything. Who then will be there to pull me back? The only person to vow that creed passed beyond these shores not long ago. His presence brought with it unbeknownst grace and comfort. His queen no longer smiles the way she used to. His Kingdom no longer lives in peace and harmony. His sons no longer rely on his guidance and strength. Misery surrounds all of us. His time was taken unfairly from him. Now I watch the consequences reap my life for everything it''s worth.


    When I wake up I am back on the hill beside the victim. I have no control over my actions. When I finally pull the knife black tears run the blood down the blade. I catch a glimmer from the moonshine of the metal dagger¡¯s reflection and see the victim¡¯s face¡­no¡­it can¡¯t be.


    Darkness is inside everybody. But it is a matter of battle and victory in whether or not you want to be called decent and true. When those who lose the will to fight let the darkness invade them, they turn into defeated shadows of themselves. All honor, pride, homage, and respect, all that gives meaning to life, is taken away. The only thing that can retrieve one from the depths of depression is what was taken from him in the first place¡­ love.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I rain down upon a familiar city with the black tears. Inside the thunderous storm, I find an armada of dark ships crashing upon a seaport, destroying everything in sight. The dark force moves as though it is one monster. It eats the port city alive. I get my feet on the ground. The streets of Port Caliber are filled with dead bodies, a veritable wasteland. Below the darkness burns a single fire on the rotten sea. From the fiery tomb rises a man wearing a dead crown of solstice. Shadow runs over everything and the darkness comes chasing after me. Mitakahn!


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°NO!¡± the prince jumped out of his bed.


    After hearing the cry Axion ran in, ¡°Mitakahn?¡±


    There he stood wide awake staring off into the distance, skylight in the grain of his eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    And then it was as if Mitakahn woke up again, his head now as clear as his eyes, ¡°I saw a sign of the Solstice,¡± he said with pure certainty, ¡°the kingdom is in peril, we are all doomed, Axion! We have to go back!¡±


    ¡°Calm down, calm down. It was merely a nightmare.¡±


    ¡°No, Axion, this is the nightmare, what will happen is the nightmare. The dream was a sign, a warning from someone, somewhere. You have to trust me. I don¡¯t know yet, but it was real. A gift from the cor.¡±


    ¡°The cor? You sound crazy, Mitakahn. Your mind is spinning loose,¡± reasoned Axion. ¡°We have been watching you get worse and worse. Watching and not saying anything, but now it¡¯s unavoidable. You¡¯re sick.¡±


    ¡°No, for the first time in a while I am thinking clearly, you must believe me, brother. We cannot afford to be ignorant if what I dreamt comes true¡­. we must save our kingdom, our father¡¯s kingdom, we must go home.¡±


    ¡°¡­Okay.¡± Axion appeased him, ¡°We will leave at noon.¡±


    That was far too easy. Mitakahn never knew Axion to be unrequitedly cooperative.


    But it did not matter. Mitakahn had the camp packed up and their mother in her carriage before Axion had returned from lunch with Euphrati. So he decided to use the spare time to pay Echo one last visit. He wanted to tell him what the Ignaleos Cor revealed to him.


    Mitakahn knocked once, maybe twice before the front door opened and he was whisked down to the library. Echo scanned his physical conditions and said pointedly, ¡°You look better.¡±


    ¡°I feel better. I feel clearer, like a weight has been lifted.¡±


    ¡°So, tell me, what have you learned?¡±


    ¡°The Ignaleos Cor has given me sight. Last night I had a vision,¡± Mitakahn¡¯s eyes darted in insecurity, ¡°but I am having trouble deciphering it through my dreams.¡±


    ¡°Come, tell me what you saw, perhaps I can give some perspective.¡±


    They sat down around the same dark oak table they brewed the exposure elixir on. Mitakahn told Echo what he could remember from his dreams, but that¡¯s when he realized as soon as he was startled awake he began the forgetting process.


    ¡°There was a diamond¡­ and an army of darkness, Port Caliber under siege,¡± he could feel himself getting worked up again. He paused to gather more detail as Echo tried to find a hint, they both sat in silence. Mitakahn got up anxiously. ¡°I can¡¯t waste any more time. I have to be going, Axion will be back any-¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn I think I know how to help.¡±


    Echo went to the wall of books and slid out Mandrake¡¯s Mandates.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Runecast base chronicle. It has articles on all known MagnaThoran artifacts. If there are any answers to your dreams, start looking here.¡± Echo emphatically shook the book.


    Mitakahn could not take such a generous gift but when he tried to refuse he thought out loud, ¡°I guess there¡¯s no sense refusing a gift from someone who came into possession of it by precarious means.¡±


    ¡°Your integrity goes unblemished to the end. I will tell people never to think of pulling one over on Mitakahn Arkenoir of Zepathorum.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°All in good time, prince.¡±


    Echo smirked and shook Mitakahn¡¯s hand. He handed him the hardbound book wrapped in a pressed brown-leather jacket. The jacket matched the entire chronicled collection of mandates. They went back upstairs and bid farewell. Echo felt bad not being able to give Mitakahn more help after all they had been through. He racked his mind searching for one last way to help. He couldn¡¯t think of anything. He could give him his horse! No, that would be weird, considering the caravan they came in on, even though the horse was special. But he wasn¡¯t completely at a loss. Before Mitakahn was out of earshot Echo called out to him. He ran closer to be sure Mitakahn heard him.


    ¡°If you run out of options, seek out my old acquaintance in Epitaph City, he goes by Demascus. He¡¯s the only person I know who could tell the legend of the warlocks better than me. Well maybe not better, but perhaps more¡­factually.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for everything, my friend.¡±


    ¡°Your kingdom will be okay, son.¡±


    That word again.


    ¡°Whether danger is imminent or not, the Pride will survive because you still hold vigil.¡±


    Mitakahn made sure to repeat the contact name to memory as he clenched the book. Echo provided him with the tools to solve his mysteries. Now the rest was up to the prince.


    Mitakahn successfully returned right before Axion, who was taking his time walking back to the caravan with Euphrati. At first, Axion was quite annoyed that his time was cut short by his brother. But after a quiet realization made just before, he turned to Euphrati. An earnest look came over Axion¡¯s face. Only his mother knew what was coming next, Mitakahn on the other hand would be completely blindsided.


    Axion turned back to his family as they got in the carriage and said softly yet sternly, ¡°I¡¯m staying.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mitakahn was flabbergasted.


    ¡°I am not going to abandon the only good thing to happen since my father died because you had a bad dream¡­¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you wish¡­¡± Queen Ady¨¢na kissed her eldest son on the cheek goodbye.


    ¡°Your father?¡± Mitakahn yelled at Axion, ¡°What about your kingdom and your throne?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lecture me little brother, this is my choice, the Pride will get along fine without me.¡±


    ¡°Take good care of him,¡± Ady¨¢na said to Euphrati.


    Euphrati smiled and bowed to Ady¨¢na who pulled her in for a hug.


    The sight of it made Axion feel good, like this was the right decision.


    ¡°Farewell, Mitakahn.¡±


    Mitakahn did not say goodbye to his brother, instead he sat down in the carriage and got ready to live life without him. Ady¨¢na got in with Mitakahn trying to keep from making their rocky departure any worse. The carriage door closed, and the driver whipped the horses.


    ¡°How could you let him do that?¡± Mitakahn hissed at his mother.


    ¡°I will not stand in the way of my son¡¯s happiness. I only hope you can find what Axion has.¡±


    ¡°Awfully convenient coming from a hypocrite.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn! I am your mother. Do not talk to me that way.¡±


    ¡°This is madness, and you¡¯re provoking it. I shall say what I must.¡±


    ¡°Then please do not talk to me for the rest of the trip.¡±


    The journey back home usually seemed shorter. But this time the unsure future and family discord slowed the pace down to a near halt. Mitakahn prayed to the gods that all was not lost before they returned. He used this long span of quiet daylight as an opportunity to open the runecast chronicle. There were more than three hundred pages to get through, each with in-depth descriptions of various artifacts. This was definitely going to take a while. It would be a good distraction from the quiet panic sounding off in the back of his head until they reached that final ridge crest so he can see with his own eyes that Port Caliber is okay.


    End of Part One

 First Interlude: Lost

    FIRST INTERLUDE ¨C LOST


    Malinor was an ordinary man. He frequented the bars of Crucifire Plains. The city was so big he could live his entire life going from one tavern to another. This is exactly how he liked it. He was cast out of his home through no fault of his own. He need not go back. He didn¡¯t want to go back, not one bit, and that was the truth. Every day he spent getting drunk and thinking about how much he didn¡¯t want to go home. One day he was drinking at a bar in the western side of the city, closer to the desert. They put weird spices in their ales, the lizard kingdom folk. They appreciated a curried drink. Malinor did not. But he had no choice. He was running low on coin.


    He was down to his last drink if he still wanted money for a room tonight. Malinor always had a staring match with his drink. He took it down before it could do anything nefarious. But alas, it was now empty and his last drink. He weighed out his options in his mind and only took about a second before spending his room money on another poorly spiced ale. In order for tonight to be a success he would need to spend all of his money and then forget he did so.


    Malinor stared at his next drink boldly as it was being poured. The barman looked at Malinor and shook his head, not even sparing a word. He heard choking next to him and then spitting.


    ¡°Gods, I can¡¯t stand the stuff. Why did they have to make it so sour? Patronalus¡¯ sake you city folk really know how to ruin a good craft.¡± Said a Komodo Mazer.


    Malinor looked over at him and pointed to his empty glass. The barman looked twice at the glass.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it if you don¡¯t want it.¡±


    ¡°If you like the stuff, by all means.¡±


    The mazer poured the beer into Malinor¡¯s mug. It didn¡¯t matter that there were remnants of spice in his mug that mixed into the beer, it still tasted great.


    ¡°I¡¯ll never understand why you plainers put grapes in your ale.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not grapes, you troglodyte. It¡¯s hops that they put in it to give the bitter taste.¡±


    ¡°Bitter doesn¡¯t belong in ale.¡±


    ¡°Neither does curry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are plenty of other bars that serve beer more bland to our liking.¡±


    Malinor finished the mazer¡¯s beer and slammed his mug on the table. He turned to walk away, to walk out the front door, taking the hit, but then he stopped. He turned back around and punched the mazer right in the face. The mazer didn¡¯t even fight back. Malinor pummeled him to the floor and did not stop punching until he was pulled off by the barman. Malinor was quickly shown the door to this particular establishment. He had once again overstayed his welcome. There were still a couple coins in his pocket, or maybe just one and he was seeing double. Malinor patted his chest, took a deep inhale, and steadied his path.


    ¡°Onto the next one.¡±


    After about his fifth endeavor of the night, Malinor finally found a dark hole to crawl into. Yes, he spotted it out of the corner of his eye in the alleyway he was walking by, or was he walking down it? At a certain point his inebriated state took over and he let go. Nothing would stop him from crashing now. The only thing he really wanted, to fall asleep and never wake up, and therefore never have to remember his past. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    A swift fist punched his gut, launching him back into the air, rattling him back to his senses, or what little he had left. Malinor fell to the floor tearing the clothes on his back and smacking his head. He got himself to his feet but barely got himself into a ready stance before the second strike came down on him. He blocked the punch and immediately felt his legs get kicked out from underneath. Malinor tried to get to his feet, but again his legs got kicked out from underneath him. Malinor was exhausted and so drunk. He exhaled and lied there, able to override his survival instinct.


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to kill me, get it over with.¡±


    ¡°Are you really so desperate to end your own life?¡±


    ¡°You have no idea.¡±


    ¡°That mazer you pummeled¡­he was here in the city to be recruited, not just some merchant or raider mission, he was going to go south to survey the great gate and if the opportunity presented itself, venture south.¡±


    ¡°A mission to the Southlands?¡±


    ¡°To put it bluntly¡­yes. You bested him. It would be in my employer¡¯s best interest if I were to offer you the quest, instead of that forsaken mazer.¡±


    ¡°Who is your employer?¡±


    ¡°That information will be withheld from you until my employer deems fit. Does it really matter? We both know what this mission is¡­a death sentence. Either you come back with a story and fame waiting for you or die trying.¡±


    Even in Malinor¡¯s intoxicated state he was able to quickly do the math. It¡¯s the best offer he will get for the foreseeable future. The choice was easy.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful. Are you fitt to cross the Sandlands?¡±


    ¡°There is no corner of MagnaThora I cannot reach.¡±


    ¡°Your attitude is inspiring and perfect for your journey ahead. Might I suggest getting some rest tonight. We made arrangements at the Cooling Star Hotel for you where you will also find field provisions. Take it or leave it. It matters not to us. If you make it back from your journey and have something to report, you can find me at said hotel. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Is there a reward?¡±


    ¡°A monetary reward is certain, I would also venture to guess my employer would offer you a personal congratulations. That is really as specific as I can be at the moment, but I expect you would be indulgently compensated for your feat.¡±


    ¡°Sounds better than getting kicked out of back alley bars.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡±


    ¡°Do you have a name?¡±


    ¡°Crooms.¡±


    ¡°Strange name for such a formal gentleman.¡±


    ¡°It is the moniker my employer bequeathed me.¡±


    Malinor got up and brushed his pants off.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to sucker punch me like that.¡±


    ¡°You needed a¡­ compelling reason to stay awake.¡±


    ¡°If you would be so kind as to show me the way to the room, I would consider your services rendered for the night.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡±


    ¡°So, after all that¡­you don¡¯t even know who I am?¡±


    ¡°Anonymity only works successfully when it is on both sides.¡±


    Malinor didn¡¯t necessarily believe Crooms, but it left him one step ahead of the game, because this was most certainly a game, and there is no way that this ominous employer hired Malinor without knowing his true heritage, and the explosive realization of his birthright.

 Second Interlude: Spark & Steel

    SECOND INTERLUDE ¨C SPARK & STEEL


    Long ago, in the dawn of man¡¯s dominion over MagnaThora, the first king of the founder tribes was anointed the Crucifire King. He came from the Wolf Tribe and his name was Phaelstrom Hightower. Under his rule, the original kingdoms lived in peace for quite some time. Unfortunately, as it is with all good things¡­ Nothing lasts forever.


    While lesser men squabbled and plotted against him, Phaelstrom dove deeper and deeper into the magic of MagnaThora. Along with some of the most brilliant minds in all the kingdoms they created alchemy and with it, the capacity to forge miraculous tools. The trick was using dragon breath to melt their metals. King Phaelstrom was gifted a colossal dragon by the lord of the dragon kingdom. Phaelstrom grew to bond with the Dread Raphe, a flying inferno that could eclipse the Ivory Tower in its shadow. Which made things difficult since that is where they performed most of their research and experiments.


    One of Phaelstrom¡¯s favorite inventions was the sword of fire. The epher qualities bestowed upon it gave the blade the ability to ignite on command. It became the first of the Seracheru blades and the king¡¯s own weapon. He gave it the name the Crucifire Sword. When the sword sealed its handle to his grip, the Supreme Dichotomy sealed a covenant upon the sword and its holder to only ignite for a true king, a warrior who is worthy.


    King Phaelstrom spent too much time in his laboratory and not enough time in his court. The needs of the people were put aside and in the shadow crept a snake who whispered in the ears of the king¡¯s allies. Slowly but surely unrest was sown into the king¡¯s subjects. The grand orchestrator still hid in the shadows, waiting to reveal themselves. The Crucifire King would be caught off guard when the pieces began to fall but that did not make him not ready.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The First Kingdom War brought humanity to its deliverance.


    The Dread Raphe returned with the might of the Phoenix Kingdom flying behind it. The colossal dragon battled above, as its clandestine master King Phaelstrom Highcastle and his army fought against Lord Zordragon who finally called his banners against the Crucifire King. To King Phaelstrom¡¯s dismay, the Gorilla Kingdom and the Lizard Kingdom sided with the Dragon Kingdom. A schism that split MagnaThora right down the middle. King Phaelstrom failed to fulfill the prophecy and unite all the kingdoms of humanity. His penalty was severe, both him and his house would suffer a terrible fate.


    King Phaelstrom wielded the Crucifire Sword unlit. After all that had happened, after all the Dark Lord Malohrin Zordragon had taken away from him, he still had hubris. Malohrin Zordragon threw two orbs of necrotica at King Phaelstrom¡¯s feet. It appeared as though the dark lord had created his own magic to rival the king¡¯ epher. It was not able to eat away at his flesh, but it kept him stuck to the floor. He tried to light the magical sword. Malohrin threw daggers of necro-blades into King Phaelstrom¡¯s shoulders rendering his sword-swinging arm useless.


    In two strokes, Phaelstrom was already disarmed. Continuous usage of the epher had slowed the king¡¯s reflexes. Before he could do anything Malohrin brandished a necro-blade larger than any broadsword. The Dark Lord swung the darken-sword for Phaelstrom¡¯s head. In his last breath, King Phaelstrom put all his power into the Crucifire Sword, and it vanished from between his fingers.


    Malohrin Zordragon decapitated King Phaelstrom and took his crown along with the Summithrone at Castle Ark and ruled over all MagnaThora. Malohrin retired the Crucifire name and called himself Dragon Emperor. He enslaved all those who spoke out against him, and the wolf kingdom was almost exterminated as an example to the rest. The time of peace and quiet was over.

 Chapter 21: The Legwork

    Part Two: Crimson Schism


    CHAPTER 21 ¨C THE LEGWORK


    Mitakahn lugged that book around with him everywhere. Some places were just not meant for literature. Other places almost felt made for reading, like the royal gardens. Mitakahn sprawled out on the grass using the lioness¡¯ backside as a headrest. Gabriella sat proudly, paws overlaid, with her head up, keeping watch over the courtyard. It was the kind of day Mitakahn hoped for, not a cloud in the sky. He leafed through the volume of Mandrake¡¯s chronicles.


    There were so many different artifacts defined in the volume that there were several ways just to categorize them in the contents summary. Mitakahn had spent most of his time on the ride home deciphering the summary of contents in order to plot a course. Another element he was missing was a clearer picture of his dreams, more importantly the sword and that other gem he held in his hands. What was it again? Mitakahn wondered if there was a way to have the same dream twice.


    He was going to spend his early afternoon going through the chapter on regional historical weapons. Mitakahn had gotten this far by using the Ignaleos Cor as a reference point in the regional historical machinations chapter. He found out quickly that the weapons chapters always followed the machinations chapters. Now it was just a matter of going through all of the different regions and kingdoms. This would be an arduous task. Mitakahn was grateful to be able to do it in the comfort of the lioness and the shining sun.


    Halfway through the MassifLands region section Gabriella¡¯s thigh twitched, rattling Mitakahn¡¯s attention away from the book. It was clear right away that there was something in the garden with them. Maximus had been nowhere to be found since yesterday and assumed wandering the Serengeti, maybe he returned looking for his sister. No lion spent more time with a human than Gabriella did with Mitakahn. He took a liking to her immediately. Ady¨¢na would tell people that her son imprinted on the lioness cub but in reality Mitakahn just bonded more closely to the lions of the Pride than he did with any of his Zepathorum peers, save Cipher. That got Mitakahn thinking about his friends from the knighthood.


    And sure enough, as if responding to Mitakahn¡¯s mental beck and call, Excelsior walked out from the brush with his fateful sidekick Orion, the dog. Mitakahn was caught off guard but not surprised. With a swift brow, sleek short black hair, and medium stature, his soft commanding eyes were only outshined by his brazen chest. Excelsior¡¯s kind nature and familiar grace made him exceptionally charming. Along with that, his larger than life four-legged friend Orion was always fun to be around. The black and brown, long-eared pup had a disposition just like his master, making them two of the most popular names back at the academy.


    Excelsior was part of the Canine Kingdom, a lost tribe of nomads; they pushed the definition of the word kingdom into great strain. Excelsior would be known to boast about his people¡¯s ability to get anywhere they needed to be, using the open road as a tool. But the road did not lead past the gates of the city and the citadel guard, that was all Excelsior and to a certain degree Orion. It is not easy smuggling a fully grown meadow-shepherd through a city, especially one as large as Orion.


    Mitakahn smiled at the two of them transitioning from creeping through the shadow to strutting out in the open and then realizing they shared the grass with a lioness. Mitakahn stood up along with Gabriella. He could tell by her heartrate that she needed to get to all fours. They stood facing each other as reflections of their kingdoms, the lions and the canines, the pride, and the pilgrim.


    ¡°You have come a long way my friend and never short on making an entrance.¡±


    ¡°Is she going to have us for dinner?¡± Excelsior pointed at the lioness.


    ¡°If she very well pleases.¡±


    ¡°My boy would have something to say about that.¡±


    Orion showed his teeth, a pure act of theater. Gabriella returned the favor, shooting the cold chill of fear in all of their hearts. Everyone knew she was devoid of any theatrics. Orion relinquished his claim of dominance and bowed to the lioness. Who in turn allowed the canine to approach them and more importantly greet Mitakahn with all the affection that comes with one of Orion¡¯s hello¡¯s. Gabriella walked away dismissively as Mitakahn got back to his feet, wiping his face free of shepherd drool.


    ¡°What are you doing this far north?¡±


    ¡°I kept a close radius after the funeral.¡±


    ¡°I forgot it was the end of term. Was everyone knighted?¡±


    Excelsior looked at Mitakahn instead of answering, his reluctance made clear. So Mitakahn immediately changed the subject. ¡°Do you make a habit of being around when your friends need you?¡±


    ¡°Some people would call not having a permanent home a curse. I use it to my advantage. How have you been coping since the loss?¡±


    ¡°Excelsior, as much as I want to tell you all that has happened since we last saw each other, it still very much feels like that day. It still feels like it happened yesterday. At first I feared I would never be able to shake the feeling. Now I¡¯m realizing what the future may bring could be enough.¡±


    ¡°What could be worse than losing your father?¡±


    Mitakahn looked out past the garden and Lake Niobi, towards the Serengeti.


    ¡°Losing my kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what troubles you, prince.¡±


    Mitakahn took Excelsior through his current affairs leading all the way back to Castle Rosi Island and the Ignaleos Cor. He told him about Chronis, Echo, the berserker, the potion, and the dreams. That¡¯s when he showed him the chronicle in his hand.


    The manner in which Excelsior grabbed the book from Mitakahn was possessive and not subtle at all. This slightly irritated Mitakahn, but he quickly moved past the instinct as he soon began to realize it was for a good reason. Excelsior knew the Mandrake Mandates well. When he was not roaming around the open countryside of MagnaThora he was in the Epitaph City libraries.


    ¡°¡­a lot of people forget that the warlock order started in those libraries.¡±


    ¡°Do they have a complete collection of these chronicles?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve read every single one of them.¡±


    ¡°So, you would know if there was any mention of a magical sword or diamond gemstone?¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, there¡¯s got to be hundreds of magical swords and gemstones. Have you ever heard of a legend without one?¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think about it like that.¡±


    Excelsior started flipping through the chronicle just like Mitakahn was doing. This did not instill the prince with confidence. But then again, it was such dense material that maybe he was just getting a feel for the old terrain.


    ¡°Can you tell me any specific details about it?¡±


    ¡°It is hard to make sense of my dreams, or should I say the few memories I have left of them. But from what I can recall it was a sword that erupted with light, almost like a flame.¡±


    Excelsior rubbed his chin for a second before he went back to turning page after page. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is the way.¡±


    ¡°Do you have an alternative suggestion?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t look for something if we don¡¯t know what we¡®re looking for. The key is your dreams.¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I can¡¯t remember much.¡±


    ¡°So, you have to dream again.¡±


    ¡°To be honest I haven¡¯t gotten a good night¡¯s rest since we¡¯ve been back.¡±


    ¡°How do you feel right now?¡±


    ¡®I feel¡­¡± Mitakahn looked around and took it all in, ¡°¡­at home.¡±


    ¡°Would you be opposed to a dawning chant?¡±


    ¡°That is knighthood ritual.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡±


    ¡°I am not a knight.¡±


    ¡°You are to me. You are one of us, Mitakahn. And you always will be. No godforsaken rule infraction will change that.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel right anymore.¡±


    ¡°Alas, a point I cannot argue with. Let us take a ready seated pose and see what the morning brings.¡±


    Mitakahn sat back down and tucked his feet underneath him with his back up straight, replicating Excelsior¡¯s pose. On the other side of him Orion sat down almost trying to mimic them.


    ¡°Focus on your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Smell the grass beneath your feet. Feel the wind in your hair. Close your eyes and clear your mind.¡±


    They meditated until late into the afternoon. It was Orion who broke form first, but the others soon followed as they heard the same call, the call of hunger. Mitakahn went another day without getting any further. It was starting to get the best of him. Was this all just in his head?


    After dinner Mitakahn took the opportunity to wander around the old tower halls. It was always a useful exercise for him to clear his mind. The citadel was his playground. Now, more than ever, he needed the comfort. Mitakahn found himself walking past the throne room, unprovoked. He stopped and looked into the hollow room. It was empty and dark. No one had stepped foot in it since the king... He looked at the crack in the polished stone floor, the line dividing the hallway from the throne room. Such a simple boundary, and yet, so much meaning in between the two slabs of stone. He lifted his foot, dangled it at the edge, and then penetrated the invisible wall he pictured in his mind. He landed his foot safely on the other side of the crack, making his first step into the throne room.


    Mitakahn walked further in. At first he was afraid, but he quickly conquered his fear and walked to the center of the room. The feeling was overwhelming. The darkness surrounded him, taking over the atmosphere in the room. The throne room, with no curtain pulled and no blind drawn was a somber pitch of black. Thick as fog, and yet the air was thin. Had the sun set already? A bright light emanated right in front of Mitakahn and threw him back onto the floor. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the light. His back was cold against the smooth floor. The light turned into fire and rapidly swirled like a whirlwind, expanding from the center of the throne room. In a fierce explosion, the fire flew to every corner of the room, but instantly retracted back to the center, and right before it vanished¡­took the shape of a smooth curved sword.


    He crawled away afraid, not just of the enclosing darkness, but the uncertainties of what was to come. Mitakahn rushed out of the room, his head swimming with ideas; and behind him the bright sun getting ready to set, once again lighting up the throne room, back to normal as if nothing happened.


    Back in his chambers, he tried to collect his thoughts. In order to preemptively keep from panicking he chanted over and over again the same line of thought. To any passerby he would look as mad as a vanagoji. Luckily, he remained unnoticed. Mitakahn continued his mantra as if to use it as a lightning rod for his focus. ¡°A dream while awake is not a dream, A dream while awake is not a dream.¡±


    It felt as though the blue flames that once plagued his vision were retreating deeper and deeper into his eyes. The essence of the Cor was making its way to Mitakahn¡¯s heart. He knew it. This was not madness; this was something of another world, of a higher realm. And in this knowledge he found hope for his case. He found a reason to pull himself from the brink. Mitakahn decided to believe in his delusions. A little bit of hope goes a long way in calming nerves. Mitakahn was able to break from his self-imposed spell and get to work.


    He found Excelsior and went down to the library, feverishly explaining his last vision and his new hunch. ¡°And then I remembered a story from the past, one of great importance. I remembered my MagnaThoran history.¡± Excelsior followed Mitakahn as he searched every shelf for a particularly labeled book. When he came upon it, most of the lore was based upon the ancient kings that ruled over all the kingdoms, but Mitakahn was looking for something very specific.


    Book after book dropped onto the table after Mitakahn depleted his resources. Finally. he found a book that could help him and placed it on the stack for Excelsior to see.


    The Crucifire Dynasty


    And then he sifted through the pages until he came upon something unforeseen. ¡°¡­And for whoever shall hold the gilded blade of crimson force will be named king, for only a true king can hold the Crucifire Sword.¡±


    Mitakahn looked up as Excelsior continued reading. What could this mean? With Axion out of the picture, how could he find a fabled sword, return it to his kingdom, and take the throne in his brother¡¯s place? It was impossible. Mitakahn could feel it clearly. This was not the right path. The Crucifire Sword was undoubtedly the sword in his dreams, but he was not fit to wield it. And then it hit him.


    What was the one current image in all his vivid dreams in the mountains? His father. More than a way to grieve, more than a way to save his kingdom, Mitakahn finally found the one thing he was looking for¡­ If darkness does come for the Pride, and Mitakahn is able to track down the Crucifire Sword, then there is only one person worthy enough to use it and save the kingdom. This is how Mitakahn brings his father back.


    Excelsior continued along a predictable line of thought. ¡°Now we just need one more thing for the Mandrake Mandate, a region or kingdom of origin.¡±


    They dug through the book trying and failing at the same time. Excelsior backed off and gave Mitakahn the courtesy, since after all; this was now a book of the Pride.


    ¡°Interestingly enough the Crucifire Sword is not inherit to any one kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Well, it had to come from somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Some things in MagnaThora are too old for history books.¡±


    ¡°You still sound like a knight.¡±


    Mitakahn ignored Excelsior¡¯s comment, ¡°All it says for origin is the White Desert.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right.¡±


    ¡°We can consult the chronicle, but it sounds like a dead end.¡±


    They went back upstairs to check the Mandrake Mandate. Excelsior was able to find it rather quickly and handed it to Mitakahn to read. There wasn¡¯t much about the mythical sword in the chronicle that wasn¡¯t written in the other book. The description was even more unhelpful, which was strange because the other articles went into such illuminating detail. Some unknown difference about the sword made it almost a higher echelon of magical artifact. The Crucifire Sword could only ignite into flame if it is held by a king who is worthy.


    Mitakahn agreed with Excelsior that it wasn¡¯t much of a lead; not ready to admit to his desperate resurrection theory just yet. They parted ways for the remainder of the evening. Mitakahn re entered his room and put the Mandrake Mandate next to the jar containing Theomitus¡¯ last breath, the first and last step of his new quest.

 Chapter 22: The Heart of Gold

    CHAPTER 22 ¨C THE HEART OF GOLD


    To be honest it had been eating away at him since they got home from the mountains. Now a couple of days later it was time to make amends with his mother. Mitakahn joined her on the queen¡¯s balcony. He wanted to do more than just check up on her but didn¡¯t really want to apologize outright for his disrespectful behavior. Apologizing would make her feel validated for letting Axion abandon his duties, and Mitakahn did not want them to have the satisfaction. So instead, he came up with a way to make her feel better about everything else. He knew the source of her sorrow was the passing of the king.


    Mitakahn¡¯s plan was obvious. He used to ask his parents about how they met all of the time. Being from two different kingdoms was an interesting story to say the least. Mitakahn would always take notes in his head about how the stories differed between parent and after a while between time. They became more and more reminiscent as they got older, sparing detail, and focusing more on feeling. One thing always remained the same; they fought against the world to be together. Mitakahn knew if he asked now he would learn a little bit more and perhaps it might make her feel better to think about the early days of their love even if it inevitably led back to the present.


    ¡°Tell me again mother, how you and father first met.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, Mitakahn? You have heard this tale countless times, my dear.¡±


    ¡°Humor me, mother. I need to hear it again.¡±


    ¡°As you wish.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°My family believes in different gods than here. We never had a god like Magnanimous to worship so distinctly, so the Shorelands worshiped the old gods, the roots of MagnaThora. I¡¯m talking about before Patronalus. These were the founders of MagnaThora. Little can really be known about them because they left our realm before the rise of man. There was one legend though, one legend of old called the heart of gold that everybody knew. Your father was amongst the champions trying to find the ancient treasure.¡±


    ¡°His quest led him to the shores of Metuchen where he asked for the horse king¡¯s aid. My father welcomed prince Theomitus and gave him the full resources of the crown. Originally, King Avalahn assigned Anilithy¨¬stad to personally aid the lion prince. It was not until I found out he was in search of the heart of gold that I offered my assistance as well. You see, it was one of my favorite legends as a girl. A legend that they would sing to us in the parishes. One as common as Magnanimous the lion lorde, this was the first lesson in love.¡±


    The Legend of Epitome and Epiphany


    The world was shaped by fire, winter, and storms. Primordial forces kept the growth of the human race down. Immortal omnipotent beings known as gods walked among the first men. The gods were bound to men by a foundational covenant. They could not exist, one without the other. Led by their oldest brother King Epitome, the gods helped vanquish the fire, thaw the winter, and tame the storms. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    In the end, it took a sacrifice that Epitome was willing to make for everyone. He used his might to bring in all of the storms plaguing the land. Compounding the thunder and winds, he forged a kingdom in the sky called Legacy City, which man would come to commonly refer to as the heavens. The gods were forced to leave their precious MagnaThora in the hands of mankind. Man prospered after that.


    King Epitome ruled with his beloved Queen Epiphany, the goddess of beauty, love, and harmony. For a while Epiphany felt at peace. There was harmony in both realms. But before long the oldest of Epitome¡¯s younger brothers became wanting of more. Lord Plagues was the god of decay, destruction, and the darkness. He was the antithesis of Epitome in every way save power, which is what he coveted most. Plagues broke the seal between god and man in an attempt to turn them against Epitome. In one magnificent gesture, Epitome sacrificed himself and Plagues, cleansing man of darkness. In their absence, the gods grew wayward. Apophas took over and Quarrel brewed chaos unchecked.


    Eventually most of the gods were trapped in the NetherRealm and Apophas abandoned humanity forever, leaving only the demigods. Those same divine animals that the first kingdoms were founded on. But before all of that, before the kingdoms of man, before the NetherRealm, before the sacrifice, before his long walk to the southlands, Epitome stopped somewhere in MagnaThora and left his heart hidden. The moment the heart touched the air it turned to gold. Epitome knew the road south would inevitably kill him. So, he left his heart, the estate of his soul, to its proper keeper¡­ Epiphany.


    It didn¡¯t matter if it took her a millennia to find it, Epiphany looked every day for her beloved¡¯s heart. Unfortunately, the goddess was never seen or heard from again and the Heart of Gold was never recovered. The only lead being Epitome¡¯s journey south from the Atlas Mountains across the beaches of Metuchen.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°That is where Theomitus began his search. He didn¡¯t get very far though. No, because the first day, well the first moment really, that we saw each other ¡­I fell for him instantly.¡±


    ¡°Love at first sight.¡±


    ¡°Part of me always thought it was the nature of opposing my father¡¯s will that drew me to the idea of falling in love with a lion prince, but it turns out it was destiny all along. At least, I can say that. We were meant for each other.¡±


    ¡°The end removes all doubt. You can both rest assured.¡±


    ¡°I hope he rests.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the way I talked to you, mother.¡±


    The moment had gotten the best of Mitakahn. He felt the sudden urge to completely come clean, deeply aware of the irony.


    ¡°Mitakahn, I wanted to be mad like you. One day when you are a parent, you will understand how difficult it can be sometimes. Often you find yourself putting the parent part of your life before yourself, when you¡¯re a ruler it¡¯s even worse. The fact of the matter is, we cannot force Axion to take the throne. I still have faith in him though. You must too.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Who would choose a girl over their family?¡±


    Queen Ady¨¢na laughed.


    ¡°Your father did, and the choice gave him his own family.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re right, I certainly can¡¯t argue with that.¡±


    ¡°I love you son. You have a strong heart and a unique mind. Your father was always proud of you, and we always trusted you to do the right thing. So, tell me, what are you going to do about your visions?¡±


    ¡°I have a plan.¡±

 Chapter 23: All-Time Backfires

    CHAPTER 23 ¨C ALL-TIME BACKFIRES


    The next morning a council of action convened. When Mitakahn told Anilithy¨¬stad about his dreams, his uncle did not doubt him like the rest of his family. Instead, he sent word to Metuchen to prepare for the worst and spent the last couple of days setting up this meeting.


    Mitakahn stood outside on his balcony and took a moment to greet the sunrise. The air was damp, the sky was clear, and the sun was oversized. Mitakahn looked at the red haze waving the fading blue night away, a purple dance of the sun¡¯s bent rays. It was going to be a hot day. Mitakahn could tell, ¡®almost unbearably hot¡¯ he thought.


    After a while, Mitakahn got dressed and went downstairs. He entered the main council room of the citadel. The members of the meeting included: judges from the Prestigents, politicians in the senate, the lords of the greater and lesser houses (including Lord Mercinestor Casterosi) of the Pride, and of course, Commander Cel¡¯a, Anilithy¨¬stad, Jericho, Anilithion, Mortikahn, Excelsior, and Mitakahn. Queen Ady¨¢na still wanted no part of dealing with politics. She heard everything directly from Mitakahn and had no need to endure a sit-down with the state.


    The council met around several large roundtables, a floor below the throne room, inside the citadel at Zepathorum. They talked about key issues. The threat of Mitakahn¡¯s dreams soon entered the conversation.


    ¡°So¡­ we do not know for sure if this danger will ever come?¡± asked one of the lords.


    ¡°Tell me you are not buying into this, Amalki?¡± interrupted a Prestigent named Jirulian.


    ¡°No, that is why it is not worth alerting the Senate just yet,¡± answered Anilithy¨¬stad, ignoring Jirulian.


    ¡°I know this seems crazy,¡± Mitakahn led on, ¡°but every bone in my body is telling me that there is something out there. Some nameless threat grows in secret and it is going to storm these shores.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense!¡±


    ¡°Whatever it is, it could be the explanation to Theomitus¡¯ curse that we have been waiting for,¡± said Commander Cel Adora.


    ¡°No ship has ever been able to sail the Barren Sea, it is impossible-¡± chimed in a councilman.


    ¡°Yes, but how can we be sure? Who knows what evil magic is out there. There is no reason to be ignorant towards this possibility and risk dooming an entire nation upon one presumption,¡± explained Mitakahn taking the opportunity to cut off the councilman from furthering his argument.


    ¡°Do you honestly expect us to believe you?¡¯ asked another senator.


    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know, we must keep an open mind,¡± confessed Mitakahn.


    ¡°And if these shadows do attack¡­how do you expect us to fight them off?¡± said Demeter, the governor of the Lion Nation, finally sharing his deviously withheld thoughts.


    ¡°Only a king can order Liege Lord Casterosi to summon the army banners,¡± said one of the lords from the greater houses.


    ¡°There is a bylaw for times such as these,¡± pointed out Lord Mercinestor.


    ¡°The named heir can take the throne if the born heir is declared incompetent.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, is that what you are saying?¡±


    ¡°I do not want my brother¡¯s throne. I must follow my dreams.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± mocked the other councilmen.


    ¡°This is madness!¡± They shouted.


    ¡°What if the only way we can rally the kingdom¡¯s banners is if you institute the named heir bylaw? Will you take the throne then?¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad felt a shiver go up his spine. It was too specific of a question. From the other side of the room he could see Mercinestor twitch in his seat as well. Before either of them could intervene Mitakahn answered.


    ¡°I will do whatever it takes to save my kingdom.¡±


    ¡°He wants the crown for himself!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what he is saying.¡±


    ¡°All princes dream of the crown!¡±


    ¡°Prince Mitakahn has always walked a different path.¡±


    ¡°That must have been his plan all along.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn loves Axion and would never betray him!¡±


    ¡°Your father-¡±


    ¡°My father!¡± interrupted Mitakahn as he launched to his feet, ¡°¡­is the one who brought me these dreams, so bite your tongue before I-¡±


    ¡°Easy Mitakahn,¡± mediated Jericho.


    ¡°¡­rip it out,¡± persisted Mitakahn, ¡°saving us all from having to hear you finish your foolish and pointless thought, you pathetic excuse for a man!¡±


    ¡°STAY YOUR GROUND, PRINCE! And know¡­your¡­place. You have come to us declaring our nation under certain death, preaching about dreams as if they were prophecies, this is all sacrilege, and, must I say, highly illegal. Prince Mitakahn, there is no doubt that you have been suffering after your father¡¯s death,¡± Demeter pretentiously rambled on, ¡°we all have¡­but for you to come into our kingdom and threaten the very lives of us all under false prophecies and inaccurate assumptions! I will not stand for it! Obviously, your grief has taken a negative toll on you, prince. And I fear for the worst. Feed into your hallucinations and delusions we will not! Nor will we give into your attention-seeking behavior. Just because you are a child of royalty does not mean you can play games with the well-being of the entire kingdom! I thereby, call a trial in the high courts of Zepathorum for the false-prophecies and blasphemy of prince Mitakahn.¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°What?!¡± stumbled Cel¡¯a.


    ¡°Wait a second!¡± screamed Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that,¡± interjected Mercinestor from the lords table.


    Mitakahn sat down in his chair, dismayed, dumbfounded and yet, not completely surprised. He glanced over at Excelsior behind him who was maintaining his stature. His friend leaned forward for Mitakahn¡¯s ear, ¡°So this is how they treat royalty in the north?¡±


    Mitakahn shook his head and sat there as words were thrown around him by his family and the politicians, muffled in a melancholy trance.


    ¡°I second the motion,¡± starkly added another senator.


    ¡°Then it is settled,¡± concluded Governor Demeter, ¡°this time tomorrow, a session of court will be ordered for the prince¡¯s misconduct. This council¡­ is adjourned.¡±


    ¡°I must return to Castle Rosi and inform Cipher of this at once.¡± Mercinestor said to Mitakahn before storming out, ¡°We will be there at the trial, my prince. This will not stand.¡±


    All of the diplomats exited the council room. Mitakahn sat in awe of how the flow of the meeting had drastically gotten away from him. He never would have thought that he would be the one to hand over the monarchy to the politicians. Demeter walked by Mitakahn, still sitting, and just before he exited the room, sinisterly whispered in Mitakahn¡¯s ear, ¡°Consider this your arraignment.¡±


    The governor took one more step and his head smacked the upright spear of Commander Cel¡¯a, who was now standing right in front of him. Was that wetness on his forehead now? He dabbed it and examined. Blood. He dare not address it. He could barely make eye-contact with the fierce look coming from the warrior¡¯s glare as she then escorted him the rest of the way out of the citadel.


    Anilithy¨¬stad sneered at Demeter as they crossed paths, Anilithy¨¬stad went to Mitakahn¡¯s side and helped him up out of his seat, ¡°Come now, Mitakahn, it¡¯ll be alright, let¡¯s go upstairs.¡±


    The boys followed Anilithy¨¬stad. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Mortikahn, ¡°wouldn¡¯t they just be trying to convince Aunt Ady¨¢na as the judge in the trial?¡±


    ¡°Not when there is no king, according to Zepathorum law it befalls the highest level of judges in the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means no one else can get involved, not the Arkenoirs, not the Casterosi, nor any of the Pride¡¯s major and minor houses. We¡¯re going to have to sit back and let this happen.¡±


    ¡°All because of Axion.¡±


    ¡°Do not be so quick to blame your cousin. He is doing his best. Just like any of us can.¡±


    Excelsior stayed with Mitakahn. Now that they were out of the hall Orion was able to once again join them. They walked down the street and when the coast was clear Excelsior suggested, ¡°Why don¡¯t I take care of this the epitaph way?¡±


    ¡°And what precisely would that entail?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s nothing compared to how they do things over at Demeter¡¯s precious senate.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s non-specific.¡±


    ¡°I would make the trouble makers stop making trouble.¡±


    ¡°Much clearer! I appreciate your willingness to break the knight¡¯s code so easily, but I must ask something else of you, my friend.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I have a feeling there is no stopping the chain reaction now, if they imprison me or execute me-¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn don¡¯t say that your own kingdom will not execute you.¡±


    ¡°Either way, the innocent people need to be saved. You are completely up to speed on the quest. We need the Crucifire Sword. Go, find the others, I will catch up with you if I can.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn we don¡¯t even know where it is? The book said the White Desert.¡±


    ¡°Echo gave me one more outlet if all else failed. A contact in Epitaph City named Demascus.¡±


    ¡°Demascus!?¡±


    ¡°You know of him?¡±


    ¡°I apprenticed under him at the library. He is the one who nominated me for the knighthood.¡±


    Mitakahn laughed. If he had just remembered to share that one piece of information before, they could have avoided all of this. They probably would¡¯ve been on the road by now.


    ¡°I will go and gather our friends to your cause Mitakahn,¡± Excelsior brought the prince in close, ¡°but we will see you on the road. This is your quest not mine, and I have faith that your kingdom will not abandon you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you my friend. Make haste. I fear time is against us.¡±


    ¡°I will leave tonight. Tell everyone I bid farewell and give them the wanderer¡¯s blessing for their hospitality.¡±


    Mitakahn bowed to his friend and patted Orion¡¯s head. He watched them leave the city limits and regretted not just going with them. But as prince he had a duty to face the charges held against him. So, Mitakahn went back to the Citadel and waited for what happened next. He had taken a while to get to sleep that night, in high anticipation of tomorrow. He was losing all hope again. Something inside of him felt the evil growing. He looked outside each day, and it seemed as though the sky was getting darker and darker. He was growing worried that the evil would strike, and they would not be ready, and thus die without much of a fight.


    ¡®What evil?¡¯


    A moment of exasperation rushed his thought process. Calling it evil was a vague attempt at validating what was otherwise an empty threat. ¡®Evil¡¯ The word echoed in Mitakahn¡¯s dark mind. The only evil present in their kingdom was trying to falsely convict him in attempted mutiny. He will soon be condemned by what he was trying to stand up against.


    And then it hit him. What if the sinister shadow in his dreams can take more than one form? What if war, and sword and shield, are not the only tools for destruction? What if his dreams just put into motion a self-fulfilling prophecy? Perhaps, the evil he feared had already infiltrated his kingdom. If so, things were worse off than he thought. In a day¡¯s time he could be in shackles, the monarchy dissolved, and the nation irrevocably doomed. Mitakahn cursed his brother for staying in the mountains.


    It was all going wrong. Mitakahn missed his father. Then again, he could not think of a more suitable ending for such a miserable turn that his life had taken. But no, he couldn¡¯t think like that. There is no life in hopelessness. And so, he treaded on, he kept his head up and waited for something to come to him. He opened his mind and his soul followed. Mitakahn fell into the deepest of slumbers¡­


    Awakening. But I am still dreaming. Another dream. Keep attention. Rain¡¯s coming. A wicked storm overhead. Wind billowing, trees swaying, temperature cracking. With the storm comes darkness. The winds carry me to a forbidden kingdom. I must get out of this cursed land. Wait a second. A hole in the darkness. Above that peak. I climb but the cliff is too steep. I am trapped on this wall in the storm. The current of the rain trying to peel me off the rock-face.


    Just then I reach up to dig my hand into the stone and the sword of flames comes back to me. It cuts through the stone without problem, and I quickly rise to the top of the mountain. But that is not to say I was finished with the mountain. I took the fiery sword to the mountainside and carved from its face all the stone and dirt.


    The stone retreated in on itself and the fire from the sword baked it bright. I stood upon a massive diamond. I stood upon the Carbon Terra. As soon as I say the name aloud it breaks apart between my feet into four massive slabs. They plummet and so I plummet with them. We fall together to the edges of the earth, and I struggle, but I am able to keep paying attention¡­Tonight I take the name back with me for I know I am in a dream.

 Chapter 24: The Family Counselor

    CHAPTER 24 ¨C THE FAMILY COUNSELOR


    Mitakahn woke up in a jolt, but was not terribly startled, a cold sweat culminating on his neck, the smell of morning dew under his nose. He had something on his mind. Some fleeting memory from his deep sleep. ¡°Carbon Terra!¡± He scrambles for a place to write down the words. Instead, he picked up the Mandrake chronicle and found it under the canine kingdom machinations. There was quite a bit about it, pages worth, so much so that Mitakahn did not have enough time to read it now. So, he took the parchment of his family tree and stuck it in the chronicle as a bookmark. Although he could not see it, he could feel that certain cerulean something simmering in his eyes. He was getting used to these dreadful dreams. Whatever was in his eyes put itself out, but this time he felt it. He was gaining control from within the dream. Now there was some form of light at the end of a dark tunnel. As much as he was gaining control of his dreams, he was losing control in reality. Today was his trial.


    He was getting dressed in proper attire for the court when he looked into the mirror. Mitakahn noticed that not only was the cut on his chin gone, but his beard had fully grown back in. He thought of his father for a moment, and then relinquished the idea of reminiscing.


    There was a knock at the door. He rubbed his furry chin. It was Anilithion, ¡°Father wants to see you downstairs, in the throne room.¡±


    Mitakahn followed Anilithion downstairs to where Anilithy¨¬stad and Galastad were waiting for him. Galastad was the lead representative and ambassador of the Lion Kingdom in the Senate at Crucifire Plains. Theomitus met Galastad through his marriage. In their dealings with the eight kingdoms and the Republic Theomitus became very fond of Galastad and saw him as not only an equal but a confidant. Galastad craved more than his kingdom could provide and thus relocated his family to one of the largest cities in the world, naturally following in the footsteps of his own father, the Metuchen representative in the Senate.


    Galastad was an averagely tall man, with an average build, and a look indistinctive of any other Borigini. The only attribute of Galastad which stood out amongst his rough and tumble kin was his keen sense of conversation and law and his button nose. He was King Theomitus¡¯ attorney and chosen representative for the Senate, which said a lot about his character. The cousins parted ways, Anilithion walked back to the spiral staircase, and Mitakahn entered the throne room.


    ¡°What is he doing here?¡± scorned Mitakahn as he no longer felt any compassion for politicians.


    ¡°He has agreed to help us, Mitakahn, and defend you at your hearing. He has long been the most loyal senator to the throne,¡± argued Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need his help,¡± Mitakahn coldly said as he turned around and started to walk out of the room.


    ¡°Mitakahn¡­ wait!¡± yelled Anilithy¨¬stad, but he got no reaction from Mitakahn.


    ¡°I believe you,¡± said Galastad bluntly.


    Mitakahn stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around with a skeptical look on his face, ready to at least hear what Galastad had to say.


    ¡°I was a loyal subject of your father¡¯s even when I didn¡¯t have to be. I have royal blood running through my own veins, but it makes no difference. I remain loyal to you and your family. Did you know that your father visited me in Crucifire Plains during his final quest? He told me grave times were coming and gave me the tools to secure your future. He all but said he would pass, and a power grab would follow. If you believe that danger is coming to this kingdom, then I trust your intuition as I did your father¡¯s. Your family has long been the guardians of the Pride, and I refuse to neglect that truth. I have faith in you Mitakahn,¡± confessed Galastad.


    ¡°Well¡­be all that as it may, you¡¯re going to need a better opening argument to keep us out of the dungeons,¡± Mitakahn mildly joked.


    ¡°Good, now let¡¯s get down to business, cousin¡± Anilithy¨¬stad and Galastad went on with deliberations over the upcoming case. They began to put together a case against the allegations that were brought on by the senators and congressmen.


    ¡°They made a point about the named heir bylaw.¡±


    ¡°That has always been a troublesome law.¡±


    ¡°They told him his dreams were, ¡®false prophecies¡¯ and ¡®blasphemous¡¯.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad and Galastad tried to figure out a way to keep Mitakahn from being wrongfully prosecuted.


    ¡°This is not going to be easy,¡± Galastad went on to explain, ¡°¡­they are bureaucrats, and will stop at nothing to dissolve the monarchy and add the Lion Nation into the Senate. They see it as inevitable. A natural course. I spend a lot of time down at Crucifire, in the Senate, they talk about every nation being integrated into the Republic so matter-of-factly. It¡¯s frightening. I¡¯ve also heard rumors of the governor¡¯s ties with the golden syndicate. And worst of all, Demeter sees this all as a play for power, an opportunity to put his plans into effect.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Plans?¡±


    ¡°Yes. This is a very vulnerable time. Demeter thinks that by condemning Mitakahn in Axion¡¯s absence, stripping the monarchy will be a breeze. By doing so, Demeter will make himself the leading authoritative figure in the nation aside from the senate. I know what you¡¯re thinking, but the Senate is so far away that complete rule of a kingdom cannot be left up to them. Only the important decisions would go to the Senate, everything else¡­ Demeter would be the king of.¡±


    ¡°Can we use any of this at the trial?¡± asked Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°I doubt it. It is all speculation. Demeter is a very clever man. I have no doubt that he will be prepared for such an accusation.¡±


    ¡°What about Axion?¡±


    ¡°Axion has no official power until he takes the throne. Honestly, the council will take any opportunity they can to loop him in. That would save them a lot of time and trouble. It is ultimately Axion they¡¯re after. Sadly, Mitakahn is just a pawn.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re using the prince as bait. So as long as Axion stays in the mountains they have nothing to get him on.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Galastad furthered, ¡°Axion has to be very careful from now on, one false move¡­and it could mean the collapse of the kingdom.¡±


    Mitakahn felt a rush of nerves come over him. It was as if a wave of unexplainable emotion hit him, forcing him to leave. Mitakahn excused himself to the hallway.


    With concern written all over his face, Anilithy¨¬stad said, ¡°It is a good thing you are here, Galastad. Poor boys, first having to deal with their father¡¯s untimely death, and now this...¡±


    ¡°I know. I regret being at the Senate for so long, I can¡¯t believe things have gotten this bad. What poison has invaded our kingdom?¡±


    ¡°You really see this as your home now, don¡¯t you? And yet your wife and kids stay in the city never learning the truth of their family.¡±


    ¡°Now is not the time, cousin. Tamaronek and I have had many long talks about the well-being of our progeny. Galaxian, Wickham, and Jaqel will find their way home to the motherland shores, walk with the stallions of our ancestors, and have their own wisdom to show for it. For now, we must focus on the matter at hand.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡±


    It seemed whether told by the dreams or brought on by the dreams, that doom was inevitable. He wanted to blame his vivid imagination for cooking up such a deadly hoax. But he knew the feelings he had towards his dreams were real. His convoluted mind was throwing around blame and reason to the point of dizziness, but deep in his heart, he still knew what was sincere. Mitakahn closed his eyes and gave all his attention to his heart.


    First, he concentrated on breathing. He felt his chest pumping and flexing. He thought about the blood moving throughout his body. He imagined the liquid life running through his veins. He pictured the glowing veins releasing the light in its entirety upon his body. He watched as his sight faded from black to gray. And then, gray to shining, bewildering white. White was described as the absence of color. But, to Mitakahn he looked at what could only be described as the infusion of every color in the spectrum, pure light. His demons were cast away. He no longer thought of the injustice that ruled his life. From the light he saw a simple landscape: blue sky, a sharp sun, reflecting grass on both sides, and a strong, promising road in the center.


    Mitakahn opened his eyes. The brightness dimmed down and focused back on the dark filtered reality he was living in. It was clear now, for Mitakahn. This was all meant to happen. He would be put on trial for his premonitions and the outcome would ultimately lead him to where he needed to go.


    Mitakahn, Anilithy¨¬stad and Galastad came down the spiraling staircase having wrapped up the pre-hearing meeting. There waiting for Mitakahn at the entrance was Cel¡¯a. She was standing guard, but he could see something deeper. The Commander was conflicted, and he knew exactly why. So Mitakahn decided to take the burden off one of Zepathorum¡¯s best champions. He greeted her with a hug and told her, ¡°Do not worry about my fate. We must both do what¡¯s best for the kingdom. This house is all that matters. Keep my mother safe.¡± He released the commander who was being uncharacteristically quiet. She bowed to Mitakahn and a tear rolling down her cheek glinted the daylight directly into Mitakahn¡¯s eye.


    ¡°Mitakahn, it is almost time¡­¡± said Anilithy¨¬stad.


    Mitakahn answered, ¡°I am ready.¡±


    ¡°May I have a minute alone with the boy?¡± Galastad asked Anilithy¨¬stad before taking Mitakahn aside. ¡°Now then¡­tell me everything you have uncovered about the dreams¡­¡±


    Queen Ady¨¢na was still punishing herself with the bereavement of her husband. That and what little responsibility she had left as queen regent took up all of her time. In the large scale of what could be considered the definition of ruling a kingdom, the word little could go as far to say she was only really in charge of addressing the needs of Zepathorum City.


    A whole city of subjects requiring the crown¡¯s allocation of charity and protection. With every single service she provided this foreign kingdom she has come to call home it came with a reminder of Theomitus, the only real reason she was here. Over the years she developed more reasons to stay in the north, mainly two sons and good friends like the Casterosi and the Adoras. With Axion remaining in the mountains there did not seem to be any change in her responsibilities as sovereign in sight. According to Galastad, Ady¨¢na faced the same threat as Axion if they testified, guilty by association. By counselor''s advice and sheer reluctance, she would not attend the trial.

 Chapter 25: Opening Arguments

    CHAPTER 25 ¨C OPENING ARGUMENTS


    Mitakahn and his advocates reached the mall of congress, a large circle where the courthouse was one of many halls of law and legislature. They entered the giant stone-clad doors with the same crimson finish and golden outlay as the rest of the courthouse. They walked into the grand hall of honor and found their spot in front as everyone was settling down. This trial was controversial; everyone across the Serengeti wanted to watch, but only the privileged Zepathorum citizens who were first on line to get in and select houses of the Pride by lottery: Arnastes, Casterosi, HyGard, Trenoble, and Ventrilles were able to bear witness. Mitakahn gave a subtle wave to Cipher and Kara, sitting with their families in the stands. Kara tried to smile back at her friend, the prince. Cipher gave nothing in return, but Mitakahn knew that look. His cousin was working something out in his head.


    The banners of the state, which all too eerily resembled the Senate¡¯s white cloth with a black globe spiraling down, but with the iconic golden lion sigil of the Pride at the center, were displayed right next to the House Arkenoir and House Borigini banners. The Arkenoir banner had the same lion sigil woven with the finest golden thread over a crimson cloth. A silhouette of Zepathorum¡¯s symmetrical skyline masterfully outlined in royal blue sandwiched between the sigil and the crimson cloth.


    The Borigini banner was a simple brown stallion sigil with dunes of sand over a black banner. Anilithy¨¬stad admired it standing proudly in the Zepathorum court. He was immediately hit with the truculent mood of the committee below the banners, a polar opposite of the Pride spirit during the funeral. The opening ceremony was underway. A ritualistic proceeding of rites, praise to the gods, and reading of formalities and obligations required of court conduct. Mitakahn mostly ignored the overbearing ceremony, its regal splendor was causing him to gag. Instead, he admired the architecture of the courthouse.


    Mitakahn could not remember ever being in here before. Its smooth, sharp angles of ivory and amber stone gave it great appeal. Sequential ridges along the series of columns in the front and back of the room were wrapped in thick golden ropes and curtains. Long, thin, pale stained windows lined the sides of the courthouse bringing a meager tone of light inside. Flat round windows on the box ceiling created a spotlight for the cast of the trial. At the front of the assembly room, in between two massive statues of lions, were a row of nine elected officials known as the Tribune Prestigent.


    The Tribune consisted of the Prestigents, the highest of judges in the kingdom, most of which, deep in Demeter¡¯s pocket. The sad truth was even with all of the tenure and merits these master judges had they were merely puppets put on stage to do the will of the governor, who was the presiding prosecutor for the case. The Tribune Prestigent sat on a lifted bench looking down upon the rest of the courthouse. Next to them was one chair coldly separated from the rest, facing the crowd. Separating the crowd from the Tribune were two tables, hosting on the left, the prosecutor, Demeter, and on the right, the defendant Mitakahn, and his council Galastad and Anilithy¨¬stad; behind them¡­ a small thick wooden gate and the rest of the audience in attendance for the controversial State vs. Prince hearing. A red crimson carpet was rolled out, splitting the house evenly in half until it reached the front doors.


    The middle chairperson and appointed Head Prestigent stood up. It was Jirulian, one of Demeter¡¯s stooges from the council meeting. He announced the start of the trial and requested the prosecutor step forth and present the charges. Demeter rose from his seat, walked to the center of the floor and spoke with clear, precise, and most of all, loud words, ¡°The state of Zepathorum, and the Lion Pride charge Prince Mitakahn Arkenoir, second son of the late King Theomitus, with committing false-prophecies, usurpation, attempted demagogy, and blasphemous behavior unfit for a prince.¡±


    ¡°Will the prince please stand,¡± ordered Jirulian.


    Mitakahn stood up with Galastad and Anilithy¨¬stad standing up beside him. ¡°How do you plead?¡±


    ¡°Not guilty on all accounts, your prestige,¡± answered Galastad. The three of them sat and the hearing was formally underway.


    ¡°The Tribune will now hear the governor¡¯s first word.¡±


    Demeter stood up and walked out onto the floor. ¡°Prince Mitakahn has been brought here for one simple reason¡­and that is to show that no one is above the law. Not even a prince. In these troubled times, people are beginning to falter over where they should put their support and faith. This country has been living in a golden age for many years under the rule of the late King Theomitus and before him, King Benethor the Just. We have not witnessed hard times for a while. When the world was under a great depression, we were miraculously saved from it. When the kingdoms were fighting Border-Wars, the Serengeti was untouched. Thanks to our kings and guardians this kingdom, the Lion Pride Nation, has been allowed to flourish for countless years.¡±


    ¡°Now it seems that times are not so golden. The king has passed away from some unknown illness, and what have his sons done to protect us, his kingdom? Besides, avoiding the throne, they have offered us these telling¡¯s of unsolicited danger and false prophecies. Prince Mitakahn has taken the opportunity, in both his father and brother¡¯s absence, to conjure up a compelling act to put himself in the spotlight.


    ¡°He has told us wild stories of impending doom upon our nation. And what is his source for all this speculation? ¡­His dreams!¡± Demeter paused to add a soft snicker before he continued, ¡°Yes, we all understand that the grieving process is a hard one, and yes, you have our deepest sympathies, but prince, you have forgotten two distinct points in your bereavement¡­The first of which is, we, the nation of the Lion Kingdom, lost our king too. Theomitus was not just a father to you and prince Axion; he was like a father to all of us too.


    ¡°You cannot be so selfish to think that you are the only one affected by this crisis, which leads me to my second point¡­In your selfish mentality you want us to¡­ volunteer tolerance¡­ And I tell you, no! That is only saved for those who deserve it. You want us to let you slide, let you do what you want, indulge your fantasies, well that is all well and good until you break the law.


    ¡°I have here, one of the oldest books in our kingdom, one of the first books of law ever written in accordance with the Kingdom¡¯s commonwealth. This book contains over five hundred laws, most of which we still abide by to this day. And I am going to read only one of them. It is listed as number eighty-eight. ¡®To the occurrence of False Prophecy, premonition, or divination: One who comes to the Kingdom and foretells by dreams that which cannot be seen will suffer under the code of law for their idol leadership towards a wrongful path and evil end. Be wary of demagogy, the attempt to gain control and power by influencing the emotions and prejudices of the public. Any conspiracy as such should be seen as espionage and treason and should be condemned to life imprisonment or death.¡¯¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The entire courtroom gasped upon hearing Demeter read that last word from the ancient book of laws. There was no getting around it¡­Mitakahn¡¯s life was at stake.


    ¡°¡­You see ladies and gentlemen. This should be taken very seriously. The State is worried that Prince Mitakahn is using his indulgences as royalty to take advantage of an open throne, to swoop in and take power for himself through coercion of prophecy. And under the evidence of code eighty eight, a law so important it was one of the first hundred codes created for this country, we are told to treat his demagogy and potential espionage as serious as we have to¡­¡­even if it means a death sentence.¡­So together, today, as a country united, we will hear testimony, examine evidence, and decide whether this prince¡¯s actions are justified or condemnable¡­Thank You.¡±


    Demeter walked back to his seat and poured himself a glass of water. Pitchers of water were present at both tables, for both counselors would be doing a great deal of talking throughout the hearing, and the water was to prevent their mouths from getting dry, their throats from getting sore, and their voices from getting hoarse.


    It was now time for the prince¡¯s first word. Anilithy¨¬stad was bright red with anger and resentment over Demeter¡¯s distracting speech, contrasting his nephew¡¯s colorless face beside him. He went to stand up, when suddenly Demeter yelled out, ¡°Prestigent, the State wishes to appeal to the co-counsel of the Horse Kingdom in terms of proper kingdom boundaries and appropriate representation.¡±


    ¡°The court agrees with the State-¡±


    PROPER BOUNDARIES!!¡± screamed out Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°I¡¯LL SHOW YOU-¡±


    ¡°SILENCE!¡± screamed Jirulian over Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s outrage, ¡°Guards! Reprimand the shorider and take that ridiculous banner down.¡±


    ¡°If you take my banner down from these sacred grounds,¡± Galastad intervened, ¡°I will not stop legal pursuit of all nine of you until every secret on that side of the room is exposed and you have been collectively reduced to nothing.¡±


    ¡°How dare you threaten the Prestigent!?¡±


    ¡°It is okay,¡± Jirulian mediated, careful not to show the pure terror behind his eyes, ¡°the guard will leave the banner and escort Prince Anilithy¨¬stad out of the courtroom.¡±


    Two guards came forth and restrained Anilithy¨¬stad. He twisted out of their grip, threw one over on top of the other, they both collided into one another and fell onto the floor, and Anilithy¨¬stad rushed for Demeter. Jericho, Anilithion, and Mortikahn intercepted Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s consuming rage, but not before he was stopped by his nephew¡¯s request, ¡°Uncle! ¡­Please¡­¡± begged Mitakahn, now standing, and looking at his rambunctious uncle, still with an emotionless face.


    The guards got back up and timidly escorted Anilithy¨¬stad out of the courtroom, to be placed temporarily in the brig for the remainder of the hearing. The Tribune Prestigent asked Jericho, Anilithion, and Mortikahn to also leave the courthouse. They did so without causing a ruckus, in comparison to their captain, the exception being Anilithion nearly tripping over his own two feet in front of half the kingdom. From the stands of the great pride houses Mercinestor whispered to his son. Cipher listened to his father''s words and stood up, attracting the attention of most of the people in the stands, including Kara Ventrilles. Cipher nodded at her then left his spot, approaching the judge.


    ¡°You can dismiss the lion¡¯s share of the prince¡¯s co-counsel with technicalities all you want. We will just keep coming to his aid.¡±


    ¡°The state recognizes Cipher Casterosi as the defendant¡¯s co-counsel.¡±


    There was a brief cheer from the crowd before they were quieted. Cipher sat down next to Mitakahn who welcomed him earnestly. Galastad stood up and walked out to where Demeter was just standing. He looked around; first at the Tribune, then at Demeter, and finally at Mitakahn. He went to talk to the judges of the Prestigent, but instead, turned his back on them and addressed the audience, ¡°Governor Demeter talks of espionage, treason, demagogy. What he neglected to include in his opening statement were words like rhetoric and propaganda. You see these words are used to describe the art of twisting the truth. The truth¡­a right that goes beyond any law, up there with family and honor. And I ask you, I ask all of you¡­¡±


    ¡°How long have you known the prince? How long have you watched the celebrity lives of Prince Axion and Prince Mitakahn in scrutinizing detail? And how many times have you seen Prince Mitakahn called a liar, get caught lying, or admitted to lying? The answer is never. Mitakahn is one of the most outstanding members of our nation. Less we all forget, this prince is so outstanding¡­he was the only person in the entire kingdom to be selected for the Knighthood of the Silver Den, the most exclusive school in all of MagnaThora. An endless supply of supporters comes to his aid, proving before our very eyes the caliber of his character. Prince Mitakahn stands before you, his flawless image smeared by the governor because he was so worried about this kingdom¡¯s well-being that he went to the high lords and councilors¡­and how did they reward his loyalty? They betrayed his trust and convicted him unjustly!¡±


    ¡°Prince Mitakahn has never been guilty of demagogy. Dema means the public, that¡¯s people like you and me, but Mitakahn never went public with his visions. He specifically chose to address the council first. He does not seek power for himself. Sometimes the truth is disguised by propaganda and rhetoric. I urge you all to see through the smoke and mirrors. Because in the end, it does not matter what a Tribune of sycophantic bureaucrats thinks, what matters is what you, the people, think. Our noble prince¡¯s life is in your hands! You call him selfish, when he is really one of the most selfless people I have ever known. He resembles his father in not just looks alone, but in heart.¡±


    Mitakahn stifled the knee-jerk reaction he normally has when people say that about him.


    ¡°He has suffered, yes, the defense does not deny that. But to say that he has suffered to the extent of treason is absurd and the same as saying he has suffered to the point of insanity. And, as we can all see, he sits amongst us as sane as ever-¡±


    ¡°And sane people, of course, always dream of the future,¡± interjected Demeter. Galastad quickly turned around to face the Tribune, ¡°Prestiges!¡±


    ¡°You may proceed, councilor¡­¡±


    ¡°In conclusion, I say to everyone in this courthouse¡­You must not cast judgment based on what is said about a person, but rather the character that you know to be at the core of them. If you believe that Prince Mitakahn is so caught up in his suffering that it has twisted his ways to treason and greed, then there is nothing I can do or say to change your mind. But if you believe that this prince is innocent and just trying to protect the home and kingdom that his father left him, then I urge you not to allow him to be punished by a corrupt system. Thank you.¡± Galastad sat back down and mumbled to himself how his closing could have been stronger.

 Chapter 26: First Testimony

    CHAPTER 26 ¨C FIRST TESTIMONY


    ¡°The Tribune will now call upon the perpetrator and defendant, Prince Mitakahn Arkenoir, son of Theomitus.¡±


    Mitakahn rose from his seat and walked to the chair which sat adjacent to the Prestigent Bench. The Tribunal member closest to him stood up and recited, ¡°Swear unto your crimson pledge of honesty that you may do no harm or tell no lie under the scrutiny and penalty of the king¡¯s law.¡±


    ¡°I solemnly swear.¡± Mitakahn took the oath.


    Demeter stood back up and slowly made his way over to Mitakahn. A smug smile stretched across his face. ¡°Compelling argument¡­¡± he said.


    ¡°Is that your first question?¡± retorted Mitakahn. The audience began to stir.


    Demeter had a question ready for him, ¡°Prince Mitakahn, did you admit to a kingdom council that you would enact the named heir bylaw in the event of an enemy invasion?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I did.¡±


    ¡°On what grounds?¡±


    ¡°I did not pose the question, so I did not choose the parameters.¡±


    Demeter knew that Mitakahn temporarily had him. For he knew full well that he was the one who posed the question back during the council and if pushed enough on the subject Mitakahn would reveal it and this line of questioning would be dismissible.


    ¡°Do you¡­prince¡­believe that you are subject to the same laws of nature as everyone else?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    ¡°Then how do you explain the fact that you have been contacted by the gods through your dreams to warn us all of impending danger? That does not sound like the standard laws of nature to me¡­¡±


    Mitakahn was careful not to admit to trespassing through the Ignaleos Cor. ¡°I did not ask for these dreams; I cannot explain them.¡±


    ¡°So, you admit that you are above natural law and humanity?¡±


    ¡°I did not say that.¡±


    ¡°Well, it must be one or the other, Prince. Either you renounce the dreams as prophecies, or you renounce your mortality¡­¡±


    ¡°I will not renounce my dreams nor go back upon my principles just to escape persecution.¡±


    ¡°There you have it, may the court recognize that the prince claims to be beyond mortality and better than everyone else.¡±


    ¡°Prestiges!¡± screamed Galastad.


    ¡°That is not what I said!¡± argued Mitakahn.


    ¡°Not in so many words.¡±


    ¡°I believe I am mortal. If you cut me, I bleed. If you execute me, I die.¡±


    ¡°Well don¡¯t jump ahead of yourself, prince. We still have a couple more questions¡­¡± Mitakahn reflected Demeter¡¯s pompous smile back at him. Demeter was thrown off his swagger for the moment. How could the prince smile after such an obvious death-threat?


    ¡°Do you believe,¡± Demeter continued, ¡°that you were given these dreams for a reason?¡±


    ¡°I know where you are going with this,¡± admitted Mitakahn.


    ¡°Please answer the question, Prince.¡± reinforced Demeter.


    ¡°¡­Yes¡­yes, I do.¡±


    ¡°Is it because you are a prince?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. It is unclear.¡±


    ¡°Is it because you went to that exclusive academy?¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯ heart skipped a beat. Does he know?


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t think so¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Then please tell us all¡­why you were chosen out of all the citizens of this nation to be entrusted with the message of the gods.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can answer that¡±


    ¡°Please try¡­¡±


    Mitakahn looked at the Tribune Prestigent. They all nodded their heads to hear his answer. Mitakahn looked at Galastad, he gave him no outlet. He had to answer the question. He had to fall into Demeter¡¯s trap.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­I guess I believe¡­that I have seen great tragedy and in my heart I know that I have gone through the worst so I can remain level-headed in the face of any other tragedy.¡±


    ¡°So, you are saying,¡± rephrased Demeter, ¡°That because your father died, you have seen enough tragedy that the gods deem you fit to warn us all of suspected danger? I¡¯m sorry but I don¡¯t believe it. Many people¡¯s parents die early on in their lives, and they don¡¯t see the future, not to mention your mother and brother who have dreamed nothing and coincidentally are not here with you.¡±


    Mitakahn stirred in his seat with that last comment.


    ¡°Please prince, try to come up with a better reason I know you have it in you¡­¡±


    Mitakahn gave Demeter a cold, vicious look. The worst in him had come out, and it was getting to Mitakahn. He decided not to hold back anymore. It was really no use. The damage was done. His conviction was probably selected already. What was the point in pretending anymore?


    Mitakahn answered, ¡°Have it your way councilor¡­ Between my bloodline, my schooling, and the events of late concerning my father¡¯s death, I believe that I have been put on a path far from the rest. Perhaps the gods talk to me because they know I will listen. Not deny, or try to use them for personal gain, but listen with an open mind and an open heart. Perhaps the gods give me these dreams because they know that I would do anything to understand why my father was taken from me. Perhaps I have these dreams because I have nothing else going for me anymore.¡±


    Besides that last note, Demeter had everything he was trying to pry from Mitakahn and quickly cut him off, ¡°You heard it, folks. There is no need for me to ask any more questions. Prince Mitakahn feels that he is above everyone else here today. His pretentious attitude towards himself and others leave much to be desired. Perhaps¡­ he thinks he is so special that he is entitled to the crown, the throne, and the control of the kingdom¡­Rulers shouldn¡¯t be entitled to their rule, they should earn it for themselves.¡± Demeter paused to let his words sink in, ¡°the state rests.¡± Demeter went back to his seat and sipped on his water with a self-righteous air about him.


    Galastad stood up, preparing to cross-interview Mitakahn. He had registered the tone of Mitakahn¡¯s last response and realized he knew it was over. There were only two things left to do¡­


    ¡°Prince Mitakahn, do you believe that there will be an attack on our nation?¡±


    ¡°Yes I do.¡±


    ¡°Where exactly?¡±


    ¡°The shores of Caliber, by a fleet of dark ships.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think this?¡±


    ¡°I saw it in a series of dreams¡­¡±


    ¡°Why do you think it was different from any other dream?¡±


    ¡°Because while I was in the dream I was conscious of what was happening. It all felt real. In ordinary dreams I feel, and¡­ I hope you all can agree¡­that I am a puppet¡­ of sorts¡­ being pulled around by my strings with no control.¡±


    ¡°I can agree with that.¡±


    ¡°In these dreams, I was able to identify that I was actually in a dream. In every other dream in my life I have been under the guise that it is reality. A biological trick to keep us asleep, I guess.¡±


    ¡°That being said¡­if the kingdom was attacked, let¡¯s say¡­tomorrow¡­would you take the throne of Pride Lorde and lead our Nation to victory?¡±


    ¡°I would never. I both love and respect my brother, and the throne is his responsibility,¡± Mitakahn concluded, ¡°Even if the nation was under mortal peril, I would do everything I could as a prince, but I would not become king unless forced. It is not my destiny.¡±


    ¡°Destiny. So, you agree that destiny both gave you these dreams and made you the second born and therefore not the heir to the throne.¡±


    If there was anything Mitakahn hated in his life, it was hearing those two words. He cringed and tried to remember what his answer to the governor¡¯s question was, ¡°Yes I do.¡±


    ¡°Seems a bit of a contradiction, can you clarify it for us?¡±


    ¡°I believe that my older brother, Axion¡¯s journey is to become king. My journey, concordantly, has to be something else to derive meaning, significance. I think these dreams are the beginning of a path that will lead me to my destiny and rightful place in this world.¡±


    ¡°So, the dreams are evidence that you do not want to be king?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°According to the governor, the dreams are evidence that you want to become king and seize power over the kingdom for yourself.¡±


    ¡°I think the governor is looking for a reason to abolish the royal blood line.¡±


    ¡°Prestigents please! This is getting hostile.¡±


    ¡°Agreed. Councilor¡­get to the point.¡±


    ¡°My client has admitted, under oath, that he has no intentions on taking the throne for himself. He merely has a feeling that our kingdom is in trouble and seeks to warn us. Let¡¯s say we prepare for the worst and call the army to Port Caliber. If there is no danger¡­there is no harm done. If there is danger at our doorstep, then we all owe Mitakahn our lives. There are no ulterior motives or hidden agendas here. Well¡­ I should say on Mitakahn¡¯s behalf.¡± Galastad leered at Demeter as he rounded up his cross-examination with a quick jab at the state and Tribune, ¡°The defense rests. You may step down, prince.¡±


    Mitakahn returned to his seat with Galastad and Cipher, who leaned over and said to him, ¡°I hope that worked.¡±


    Galastad commented ¡°You did well, I¡¯m proud to represent you.¡±

 Chapter 27: Second Testimony

    CHAPTER 27 ¨C SECOND TESTIMONY


    Demeter stood back up, nodded to the Tribune without Galastad or Mitakahn noticing, and then cleared his throat, ¡°The kingdom would like to call its second witness, Lord Mercinestor Casterosi.¡±


    Mitakahn and Cipher looked at each other. The same thought seemed to hit them both at once although it was lost on Galastad. Mitakahn was the first to speak on it, ¡°They must know about the cor.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°They have no proof.¡±


    ¡°If they do, they could go after your research.¡±


    Cipher smiled as if he knew something everyone else did not. He rubbed the cuff on the sleeve of his left arm.


    ¡°Should I be worried?¡± Galastad leaned over.


    ¡°They¡¯ve got nothing.¡±


    The three of them focused back on Mercinestor getting sworn in.


    ¡°Swear unto your crimson pledge of honesty that you may do no harm or tell no lie under the scrutiny and penalty of the king¡¯s law.¡±


    ¡°I solemnly swear.¡±


    ¡°Lord Mercinestor, you are responsible for the kingdom¡¯s most prized possession. Some might say the prosperity and market value of the Serengeti coin has grown to where it is today thanks to the Ignaleos Cor. Others blame it for that outdated and retired ritual of unnecessary sacrifice. The fact remains we let you keep it in your possession.¡±


    ¡°¡­Let¡­me?¡±


    ¡°We have it on good authority that there was an unknown activation of the Ignaleos Cor the same day the prince returned to the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Can you please provide your proof of such an accusation?¡± Mercinestor deflected.


    ¡°Our sources choose to remain anonymous for their own safety.¡±


    ¡°Then technically you have no authority at all.¡±


    The thing about having a spy in Castle Rosi is once you reveal them you no longer have a spy in the castle. Demeter knew this and already concluded that it was not worth it to do so now. He would be able to get what he wants by other means. Instead, he would appeal towards Mercinestor¡¯s emotions.


    ¡°You¡¯ve watched Prince Mitakahn grow up. Much like his uncle in the brig you were able to show him the importance of family, especially in the light of what happened to the Arkenoir line. You stepped in when others did not. You were like a brother to the king.¡±


    ¡°Get to your point.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°You were there when the king was forced to take the throne after his brother died in the Corscape and now you knowingly let your son and the princes risk the same fate. How can you live with yourself?¡±


    ¡°You have no right to accuse me of anything. I would have done whatever it took to save Theomitus. He was my king and the best man I knew. He didn¡¯t deserve what he got and his family sure as hell does not deserve your persecution in his absence.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn went looking for answers, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°All evidence to the contrary.¡±


    Mitakahn looked over at Cipher who was brimming with pride. Galastad added his remark, ¡°Your old man is stumping Governor Blockhead.¡±


    ¡°In your opinion, Lord Casterosi, why is Mitakahn allowed to participate in a ritual that was abolished by his own grandfather? Mitakahn is no king. He is subject to the same laws as the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°There is no evidence of Mitakahn participating in the alleged ritual.¡±


    ¡°Clearly, you cannot be swayed. An honorable trait, my lord, but even if we cannot produce a witness, everyone in this room knows how the clouds glow blue above Castle Rosi Island when the gem portal is active, alive in the night. And there were multiple accounts from local river valley folk of that infamous glow emanating from the island the same night Mitakahn returned to the kingdom.¡±


    ¡°I cannot agree to anything without substantial evidence.¡±


    ¡°I have made my point. No further question, prestiges.¡±


    Next, Galastad had a chance to cross-reference the witness. ¡°Do you agree that the governor is a greedy man?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Impropriety, prestiges!¡±


    ¡°What will you do with all of the information this trial has presented here today?¡±


    ¡°Although my house is older than any that stand on the tribunal, I have no power here. So, at my first opportunity I will ride for the Burning Mountains and bring Prince Axion home to do away with all this foolishness.¡±


    ¡°No further questions, prestiges.¡±


    Demeter jumped right away, ¡°You cannot let him leave now.¡±


    Jirulian beckoned, ¡°Seize him!¡±


    The guards moved into action as if they were statues coming to life. All the other lords in the courtroom stood up ready to fight, including Kara Ventrilles, commander of the Zenfor Archers and one of the kingdom¡¯s most famous warriors.


    Cipher jumped up, right next to Mitakahn. But Cipher did not reach for his sword like the rest. He jumped the table and got to his father before the guards. Cipher lifted the sleeve on his left arm to reveal a mechanical bracelet. A dark leather band held the valley-tin directly over his wrist on the back of his hand. He opened the thin metal cover and cranked a switch causing the bracelet to glow. As if the two were mutually exclusive a loud echoing boom could be heard from outside of the courthouse. It sounded like thunder from a distance, but Mitakahn knew what it really was.


    He was trying to put it together. Mitakahn understood while he was watching events unfold that it could be some time before he would see Cipher again. Who knows what will happen after this? Cipher had created some sort of device that mirrored the Ignaleos Cor. That same churning cerulean portal opened up from his wrist large enough for him and Mercinestor to walk through. As the guards charged them the portal slammed shut causing a shockwave to ring out and knock them and the Prestigents off their feet. Everything settled down and the Casterosis were nowhere to be found.


    No one could believe what just happened. If Mitakahn had to guess, he would assume Cipher found a way to channel the cor¡¯s energy to his wrist-device and when he opened the gem portal with his mind it allowed him to travel between the two and return home instantaneously. Mitakahn looked at Galastad.


    Now what do we do?

 Chapter 28: Final Testimony

    CHAPTER 28 ¨C FINAL TESTIMONY


    Demeter brushed the debris off of his clothing. He was officially done playing around and trying to enjoy himself. It was time to do what he set out here to accomplish today and that was to dismantle a monarchy.


    ¡°The kingdom would like to call its final witness, prince Axion, to the stand.¡±


    The crowd thundered in uproar from the unseen turn the trial had taken. Demeter was clearly hoping that this would validate his arbitration. He said one more time, ¡°The state calls Prince Axion to the stand.¡±


    Everyone was caught in vivacious conversation with each other, looking around for the absent prince.


    Demeter yelled out one last time, ¡°The state calls Prince Axion to the stand!¡±


    Mitakahn closed his eyes. Part of him would forever resent his older brother for not being there when Mitakahn needed him most. But the other part of him was grateful that Axion would not get looped into all this, and the monarchy would remain intact.


    ¡°Enough of this shallow attempt at my family¡¯s rule!¡± yelled a voice from in back.


    The doors to the courts were wide open and there standing at the entrance was Commander Cel¡¯a escorting Queen Ady¨¢na in her finest robes and crimson crown. Demeter winced and refrained himself from touching the scab on his forehead. The crowd gasped in unison at their sudden arrival. Queen Ady¨¢na walked through the gate and sat on the chair adjacent to the Tribune. The Prestigent closest to her stood up like a scared buffoon and read the oath once again ¡°Swear unto your crimson pledge of honesty that you may do no harm or tell no lie under the scrutiny and penalty of the king¡¯s law.¡±


    ¡°I solemnly swear.¡± Ady¨¢na played along.


    ¡°Queen Ady¨¢na, it is an unexpected pleasure to see your face here,¡± Demeter was blatantly stalling to figure out what he would say to the witness he never saw coming.


    ¡°Are you going to ask me a question or should I step down?¡± The Queen¡¯s words infuriated Demeter into action. Twice he had been insulted by the royal family, sniveling brats. He now had all the fuel he needed to turn a mother against her son or sentence them both to death. ¡°Are there any plans for you to hand the crown over to Mitakahn because Axion is too scared to take it himself?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Are you planning on taking control then as queen regent?¡±


    ¡°¡­For as long as my son needs.¡±


    ¡°When exactly will that be?¡± Demeter was set on embarrassing Axion in front of his future subjects.


    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know, yet. When the time is right.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°I said I don¡¯t know¡­It is up to Axion, not me.¡± Demeter was done with his games and now aimed to finish off the Arkenoirs once and for all.


    ¡°Do you believe that your son, Prince Mitakahn¡¯s dreams are a prophecy of the future?¡± Queen Ady¨¢na had to be incredibly careful how she answered this. If she said yes, she might find herself sitting right next to Mitakahn and facing the same charges. If she said no, she would have saved the monarchy at the price of supporting Demeter, her son¡¯s enemy.


    The stipulations were clear to Ady¨¢na, and yet the decision was so complicated. Ady¨¢na looked at her poor boy, finally able to see his worn-out, ghost-pale face. This whole ordeal had taken a trying toll on Mitakahn. Ady¨¢na wanted to put an end to it. But she did not know how. A mother and son connected eyes and she caught Mitakahn nodding his head, and mouthing the words, ¡®It¡¯s okay.¡¯


    Ady¨¢na knew what her son wanted her to do. Mitakahn wanted Ady¨¢na to sell him out and save the throne at all costs. At first, Ady¨¢na was destroyed by the gesture. But then, she came to her senses and realized it was the only way to end this and keep everything intact. Demeter broke the connection, saying, ¡°Queen Ady¨¢na, if you would kindly answer my question¡­¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe his dreams are a prophecy of the future.¡±


    Demeter was astounded; apparently, he was not the only spineless creature in the courthouse.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be all your honors, the state rests.¡± Demeter once again returned to his seat with that stuck up look on his face, as if he smelled something foul in the air, and liked it.


    ¡°Would the defense like to cross-examine the queen?¡± Galastad stood up and walked towards Ady¨¢na. Mitakahn did not know what angle Galastad would take on his mother to further his claim without getting him in trouble.


    ¡°Do you love your son?¡± asked Galastad simply.


    ¡°¡­With all my heart.¡±


    ¡°The defense has no further questions, your prestigents.¡±


    Galastad walked back to the table and sat down beside Mitakahn. ¡°That was quaint,¡± the prince sighed.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d like it,¡± conceded Galastad.


    ¡°You may step down, Queen. The state and defense will now have one last chance to argue their case. I urge you both to keep it short, orderly, and focused. Governor, you may go first.¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Queen Ady¨¢na walked back down the aisle catching mixed looks from the citizens in attendance. Her popularity was not at its highest. But that¡¯s okay. She had joined Mitakahn in sacrificing her own integrity for Axion¡¯s sake and was able to keep her head held high.


    ¡°We are coming to the end of the trial. And you have all heard many different sides of the story and colorful testimonies. You have heard that truth is higher than laws, in the company of love and honor. Truth is a human quality. And human qualities are all subject to natural law, as we have learned. And natural law is constantly changing. So, what does that say about the truth? Truth can only be taken as far as the person who carries it. Therefore, who can be absolutely trustworthy? No one. You cannot be forgiven of your actions and blasphemies because you are a trust-worthy and outstanding character. No one goes their whole life without lying. And truth cannot always be trusted.¡±


    ¡°Prince Mitakahn believes that he is above us all. His false sense of entitlement has given him an air of pretentiousness that has warped his reality to believe our kingdom is in danger. If we do not put a stop to this and keep indulging this child¡¯s fantasies, he will surely make a play for the throne, whether he admits to it or not. We must not allow anyone in this country to believe that they are above the law. If we do not make an example of Prince Mitakahn then false prophets will be popping up everywhere and we will have an epidemic on our hands. We must stand together in the laws our forefathers wrote for us and enact a zero-tolerance standpoint¡­just like the academy did¡­¡±


    And there it was. Mitakahn knew this day would come, the skeletons in his closet now in plain view before the entire kingdom. ¡°Unbeknownst to the rest of us and kept secret by the throne, Prince Mitakahn was expelled from the Knighthood of the Silver Den¡±


    Demeter paused as a collective gasp swept the room.


    ¡°He was kicked out for trespassing on sacred land. Yes, that¡¯s right ladies and gentlemen. No one is above the law, my lord.¡± Demeter continued without flinching, ¡°And it is quite evident now that Prince Mitakahn thinks he is, and nothing will stop him from breaking oath, law, and our national trust in order to get what he wants. Some might say there is nothing more dangerous than the combination of recklessness and power. Thank you.¡± Demeter bowed to the Tribune and returned to his seat.


    Galastad stood up and took Demeter¡¯s place on the courtroom floor. Galastad knew that this was his last chance to save the prince¡¯s innocence. He had to pull something out that could sway the minds of the Tribune. But then he thought, once again, how they were all in the pocket of Demeter. Axion¡¯s future as king was safe for now, the royal family remained intact, and judging by Demeter¡¯s concluding speech they were not going to sentence Mitakahn to death. So Galastad decided to go against every diplomatic bone in his body (which numbered quite a few more than all the politicians currently standing in the courtroom combined) and make an attempt at blowing the lid off the whole trial.


    ¡°Sadly, I have nothing more to say at this moment. Demeter saved his most powerful points for the end. Almost as if he knew how this would all play out. That is because the ruling has already, undoubtedly, been decided. Unfortunately, it is true¡­ we live in a corrupt, broken system. The politicians that stand before you are conspiring against us. You want to know about demagogy and espionage¡­Governor Demeter has put forth a plan to dissolve the monarchy and-¡±


    ¡°THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CASE!¡± interjected Demeter.


    ¡°COUNCILOR! Know¡­your¡­bounds,¡± authorized the Tribune.


    ¡°As you all may know, I work as a chief ambassador for the Lion Kingdom at the Senate. That is the MagnaThoran Senate located in Crucifire Plains. What you may also know is that I was not born of this nation. I am in fact a Borigini. Some of you may be questioning my loyalty. Who can trust a man who does not pledge his allegiance to his home? What you do not know is I have come to learn in my tenure that all nations will eventually dissolve into the World Republic as a democracy.


    The world is bigger than my kingdom, or yours¡­.¡± Galastad stared down Demeter.  ¡°Now¡­ under the committee at Crucifire the mode of transfer was always seen as gradual and fair, not forced. But there is one thing they do not tell you, one part of the process that benefits only one person in this room. During the power exchange, an intermediary is chosen to oversee rule of the kingdom, and that is usually the kingdom¡¯s governor. That¡¯s right, your sniveling governor sees this all as a way to gain more power and it doesn¡¯t matter who gets hurt along the way!¡±


    ¡°PRESTIGES!¡±


    ¡°COUNCILOR! One more outburst like that and you will be ejected!¡±


    ¡°¡­Prince Mitakahn is innocent and has been the unfortunate victim in all of this due to blind faith in his country. Do you want to know how I know he is innocent? I am not here to convince you anymore because there is really no point. Mitakahn confided in me the true extent of his dreams. He is not on a quest for power. Mitakahn, I want you to tell them what you told me.¡±


    Mitakahn could not bring himself to say it. He refused to bring it into reality. Luckily for Mitakahn Demeter interrupted, ¡°Mitakahn had his chance to speak. Finish up, Galastad.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Galastad concluded, ¡°Mitakahn told me he thinks the only way to save us is to bring his father back from the dead.¡±


    And it was Galastad who brought it to reality for Mitakahn, potentially tainting the possibility of it ever coming true now. ¡°You cannot condemn someone for wanting their father back, especially when the governor¡¯s entire case rests on that same someone making a play for the throne. Open your eyes people. There is only one person here today that wants to rule¡­¡± Galastad turned to face Governor Demeter and took a stern breath, preparing to finish this hearing with a bang. He reached out and pointed at the governor, ¡°AND IT IS THAT SPINELESS BOTTOM FEEDER OVER THERE!¡±


    ¡°THAT IS IT! GUARDS!¡±


    ¡°THE PRESTIGES ARE IN HIS POCKET!¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±


    ¡°HE WILL HAND THIS COUNTRY OVER TO A WARLORD FIRST CHANCE HE GETS!¡±


    ¡°STOP HIM!¡±


    The two guards who escorted Anilithy¨¬stad out now came after Galastad. He went quietly and when he turned to take one last look at Mitakahn he caught a reaction he was not expecting and made him proud of the outburst. Mitakahn was smiling, his Borigini-half beaming with pride, leaning back in his chair with the color now returned to his face. He could have borrowed some redness from Demeter¡¯s cheeks, who was blushing uncontrollably from the embarrassing accusations that Galastad made.


    The entire courthouse was once again in an uproar. The Tribunal Prestigents were all banging their gavels to regain order in the court. Mitakahn relished in the chaos surrounding him, he was its calm center. His smile seemed everlasting. Order was once again restored in the courthouse and Head Tribunal Jirulian was already speaking, ¡°A verdict has been reached for the case of the State versus Prince Mitakahn. On the charge-¡±


    ¡°YOU SEE!¡± a random citizen yelled out, ¡°GALASTAD WAS RIGHT!¡±


    More citizens followed, ¡°They sentenced Prince Mitakahn before the trial was even finished!¡±


    ¡°SILENCE!¡±


    Grand Prestigent Jirulian talked over the outraged public in order to make their ruling official, ¡°The charge of committing false prophecies the defendant has been found not guilty,¡± The crowd cheered in utter enthusiasm and sympathies for Mitakahn. But they were quickly wrangled back down to stillness, ¡°On the charge of attempted demagogy the defendant has been found¡­not guilty.¡±


    The crowd did not stir this time, in high anticipation for the last ruling. ¡°And finally, on the charge of blasphemous behavior unfit for a prince the defendant has been found¡­¡±


    The Tribune stretched their usual pause excruciatingly long to repay the courthouse for buying into the commotion Galastad, single-handedly, conjured up. Demeter¡¯s look gave nothing away. He did not show whether or not he knew the first two charges were going to be not guilty; and he did not show whether or not he knew what verdict they were going to come to next. Mitakahn sat emotionless, ready for any twist or turn of fate to be thrown his way. The smile still traced upon his face.

 Chapter 29: No Good Deed

    CHAPTER 29 ¨C NO GOOD DEED


    The Tribune Prestigent finally finished its verdict, ¡°¡­guilty.¡±


    The crowd once again gasped in almost perfect unison.


    ¡°The deliberation for the sentence was unanimous. It is not execution, it is not imprisonment, and it is most certainly not a fee. The convicted, prince Mitakahn Arkenoir, second son of Theomitus, will be condemned to¡­ exile. He will have until dawn tomorrow to prepare for his departure and must vow never to return to this city or anywhere within the greater kingdom¡¯s limits as long as the ruling still stands, and the case is not overturned. This trial is now adjourned.¡±


    The Courthouse cleared after a rumbling response from the citizens sitting in. Anilithy¨¬stad and Galastad were released from the Courthouse brig and reentered the room. Jericho, Anilithion, and Mortikahn came rushing in from the courthouse¡¯s back doors. Those who missed the verdict were informed of the punishment. Anilithy¨¬stad could not believe Mitakahn was to be exiled, and yet Mitakahn seemed unaffected by the charge.


    His indifference was disturbing to all his family members. Little did they know Mitakahn was planning to leave anyway. He had to catch up with Excelsior. But how could he save the kingdom if he couldn¡¯t step foot within its limits? Mitakahn¡¯s mind glimpsed possible solutions while they talked about the atrocious trial around him.


    As the lords and ladies of the Pride left, Kara Ventrilles stopped before the prince. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Prince Mitakahn. This will not stand. We will find a way to bring you back.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Kara. Please just be prepared for what may come.¡±


    ¡°I will make sure Arunidawa is ready.¡±


    ¡°Then you believe me?¡±


    ¡°House Ventrilles stands with the throne in all its forms.¡± Kara watched Mitakahn¡¯s expression change after that. ¡°Your brother will return, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°Not soon enough.¡±


    Kara, feeling like everything she said made things worse, excused herself, rejoining her family as they left.


    Knowing who was to come next, Mitakahn might have stopped Kara from leaving. Demeter walked over with a paper that verified Mitakahn¡¯s exile. He handed it to him, ¡°You can hold onto that little memento, prince.¡±


    Galastad took the paper from Mitakahn, folded it up and stuck it in his breast pocket, all the while staring feverishly at the rotten governor. ¡°I eagerly await the day we see each other again and you beg for me to destroy this paper.¡±


    ¡°Why would I ever do that?¡±


    ¡°The only way you¡¯ll come crawling back will be a matter of life and death.¡±


    ¡°That could be taken as a threat.¡±


    ¡°Then you should walk away.¡±


    Foolish Governor Demeter thought he left with the upper hand. He left the courts with a pompous smile stretched across his face for the whole city to see. He had done his part in destabilizing an already compromised royal house.


    Together, the royal family led by Commander Cel¡¯a, accompanied Mitakahn back to the citadel. He walked up the spiraling staircase to begin packing. It was nearly twilight, and he had until dawn to get his belongings together. Mitakahn spent the time he had left with his family, when it became too late in the night he left them asleep in the Citadel and went out to the royal garden where the two family lions dwelled¡­one¡­final¡­time. Mitakahn laid down between them. Maximus slept as Gabriella stared at Mitakahn with her chin resting on his chest. It was heavy on him, but he did not care. Positioned like this, the lioness¡¯ eyes were huge. He looked into them, memorizing each golden strand of her irises surrounding the dark reaches of her pupils. It was like staring into a fallen star. He loved the inherent majesty of lions. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Mitakahn spent the rest of the night petting the hair on the top of Gabriella¡¯s head until he fell asleep. He awoke in the middle of the night in his bed with no idea how he got there. Hopefully, it was just sleep-walking. Mitakahn lit a glow-torch on the wall next to his bed. He used the time awake to finish packing his travel bag. Aside from his camping gear, this would be a bag that could fit on his back containing all of the essential items of his entire life. He found a way to attach the breath-jar to the outside of his pack, and that¡¯s when he came upon the chronicle. Mitakahn opened the book up to the Carbon Terra chapter and started reading before almost immediately falling asleep.


    The next day Mitakahn found a place in his pack to stuff the chronicle so he could finally read the Carbon Terra chapter. Mitakahn decided to eat down in the mess hall with the rest of the guards, reminiscent of his brother¡¯s old habits. He enjoyed one last warm meal that was prepared by someone else. He could not be sure how long he would have to wait for such a luxury again. Commander Cel¡¯a, or as her soldiers addressed her, Commander Adora sat down in front of Mitakahn. She just stared at him. Her face was guarded, vacant of all the emotion he knew her to be feeling except for concern.


    ¡°My jurisdiction knows no bounds. My imperative is to keep your family safe. I can dispatch a regiment to accompany you indefinitely.¡±


    ¡°You are going to need all the help you can muster here. I will be fine on my own. I have been training for this for years.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, please allow me to help you in any way.¡±


    ¡°You are already helping me, don¡¯t you see? I can leave without worry that my mother is in any danger. You are an extension of myself that can remain within the citadel walls, I cannot express how much that means to me. I will be okay out there. This was always my path. I was meant to travel abroad.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my prince. The royal guard eagerly awaits your return.¡±


    ¡°I will come home. You have my promise. I will do whatever it takes to get back here safely.¡±


    ¡°That is a promise I must insist on holding you to. When the time comes, I will be there to hold the door open for your arrival.¡±


    Cel¡¯a bowed and excused herself to let Mitakahn finish his last meal in peace. He had a lot to think about before leaving the citadel for good. Only his family accompanied him to the city limits.


    He stood outside the gates of Zepathorum City. It was another hot morning. The damp grass and murky weather was the type before a storm. But the storm never came, as if it were gathering its fury elsewhere, just waiting to come down upon them. Unfortunately, Mitakahn had to leave, and would not be able to stay and find out for himself whether or not his dreams would come true.


    ¡°This is good-bye and good luck, Mitakahn. Go with our love.¡±


    He bid farewell to his mother, ¡°May the next time we see each other be under better circumstances.¡±


    Queen Ady¨¢na could not bear it, first she lost her beloved husband, then she let her eldest go without a fight, now she is being forced to say goodbye to her last boy. She did not know what to do. She had to do something for him. Quickly, Ady¨¢na searched for a way to help Mitakahn, she yelled out, ¡°Go to your brother in the mountains. It will be just what Axion needs to come home and take his rightful place. After he is king he can abolish your exile.¡±


    ¡°He had his chance to help, mother,¡± Mitakahn immediately put the idea down, ¡°Now I will go to Epitaph and find a way to save the kingdom, and Axion will have nothing to do with it.¡± Mitakahn turned ahead.


    One more time Mitakahn looked back, ¡°I will not fail you.¡±


    Being an outcast was not really on his mind. He was thinking about his journey and what was to come. He began walking away with his back turned to his family. A moment so mundane in the literal sense but so momentous to Mitakahn for one simple reason. If he didn¡¯t look back again, it might be the last time he ever sees his home.


    Anilithy¨¬stad watched his nephew walk away with nothing but the company of his shadow. He could not have this; he was racking his mind to figure out what to do. He looked over at his eldest son. Anilithion was mid-yawn and scratching himself. Anilithy¨¬stad shook his head.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Galastad caught up to Mitakahn, ¡°take this.¡± He handed him a smooth dagger with a golden handle and a red crimson line going down the back of the blade. ¡°This was your father¡¯s hunting knife¡­He left it with me the last time I saw him and told me to give it to you when the time is right. I can think of no better time than right now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Galastad, thank you for everything.¡± Mitakahn tucked the knife in under his belt and walked down a small stretch of cobblestones which led to the Epitaph Road.


    Anilithy¨¬stad had offered Mitakahn a horse to ease his travels earlier, but he denied it in honor of celebrating the road in human stride like his friend Excelsior did, in honor of his ancestors, the Canine Kingdom.


    Soon enough, Mitakahn converged with the Epitaph Road, the sun was now in the blue sky, right in line with the road, green grass was reflecting the sunlight on both sides, and that¡¯s when Mitakahn realized¡­ Back before the trial, when he was meditating to calm his nerves, he pictured this exact scene in his mind. And now, he was here. Fate had led him exactly where it showed him it would. Mitakahn felt good. In all this misfortune and wrongdoing, Mitakahn felt¡­rejuvenated¡­on-course.


    He was approaching the light at the end of the tunnel, and his old thoughts of cynicism and pessimism were vanishing once again. Mitakahn turned over a new leaf in the wake of his Kingdom¡¯s abandonment. He was more determined than ever.


    End of Part Two

 Third Interlude: Condemned

    THIRD INTERLUDE ¨C CONDEMNED


    The Sandlands could only be described one way, arid. It was a patch of scorched earth right in the center of MagnaThora, to cross the Sandlands was to move between the reaches: north south and west, more importantly south. The southern range of the Burning Mountains ran all the way west to the Barren Sea with only one break in it, where the Great Gate was built. The Sandlands stopped and the Southlands began with the desert as the transition.


    After long days following the Equitor River south, Malinor could see the Great Gate in the distance. A couple days felt more like one hundred days under the beating sun, with not a tree nor a boulder to cast some shade for reprieve. Malinor only had the river, but even the river this far south succumbed to the harsh climate, dwindling to a heavy stream. His face was mostly covered by a longclothe mask that wrapped up over his head, even still his skin felt tender as if sunburnt, and his lips were chapped.


    Walking in the sand as this time slowed everything down for him, the hours stretched on and on and the scenery barely changed. Yes, he saw the Great Gate in the distance, mostly black, with towering graystone pillars checkered throughout. But it would still be some time before approaching the actual gate. Even then, he had little to no idea how he would get through.


    All evidence and common sense pointed to the way being blocked, because what good would a gate be to keep the darkness out of MagnaThora if people could cross through it freely. There were few accounts of people exploring the lands near the gate. No one dared to venture out and survey, or if they did they never made it back alive to tell about it. Malinor needed some rest before he made his final approach. He cared not and continued to make his way to the gate.


    The fact that the enormous metal and oldstone gate was in sight before him, and every step brought it closer and closer captivated Malinor. Nothing would keep him away now, not even his own fatigue. He dragged himself through the mounds of sand, struggled up the gradual incline and then meandered down what each little dip came thereafter. It was truly glorious. A modern wonder. No living man could be capable of such tower metal walls. Closer up the stone pillars seemed to be more like anchors, keeping these fierce black metal slabs from cresting over one way or another. The stone pillars were only slightly crooked, making it clear they were organic and from Malinor¡¯s guess rooted directly into the ground like a tree.


    The more he got under the gate the more it burdened him, as if an old spell took a hold of Malinor. Don¡¯t look up or the wall will topple over. Malinor panicked in his desperate fatigued state and embraced the black metal gate. It was ice cold in the baking hot sun and desert. So cold the frost bit his hands as he pulled away. It didn¡¯t look iced or frosted over. Malinor examined the gate all around him. There were solid seamless burnt steel forged plates shaped by godly magic.


    The only break in the immaculate black metal were ornamental spikes and ridges, no doors, no windows, no vents. It was impossible to get around. Just like the tales of old said. The giant metal walls ran straight into the mountainsides of both sides, cutting vertically through the cliffs, leaving no humanly path around the gate. The cliffs shot up so drastically on both sides of the southern pass their peaks had their own whitecaps.


    ¡°You¡¯re not gonna get through.¡±


    Malinor jumped.


    ¡°Trust me, mate.¡±


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just like you. I wanted to see what was on the other side. It¡¯s impossible. You¡¯re not going to get through. You might as well turn around.¡±


    ¡°I will be the judge of that, stranger.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t throw your life away!¡±


    ¡°My life is mine to do what I please!¡±


    ¡°Would you make the same mistakes as a sad old man?¡±


    ¡°I will find a way over that gate.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°I¡¯m the only person who knows how to get through.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not right. If you knew how to get through you wouldn¡¯t have been waiting here.¡±


    ¡°What do you think is right?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m dreaming or maybe hallucinating in the desert, maybe I¡¯m even dead and this is my hell, forget the nether.¡¯


    ¡°You are not dead, Malinor.¡±


    ¡°How do you know my name?¡±


    ¡°I am not a mirage or a mind trick.¡±


    ¡°What are you?¡±


    The old man with long hair, a dark look, and long unkempt beard moved forward. As he revealed himself his figure began to¡­well, it wiggled. His true form grew out of him slowly with long antennae and wings, and then the antennae swirled into horns and a tail burst forth, his face warping, the hair shedding off along with the molting flesh as the scaley beast finished its transformation.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­you¡¯re a dragon. A shape-shifting dragon? Do those exist?¡±


    ¡°A DRAGON!?¡±


    The voice of the dragon knocked Malinor back. This was no mere dragon of the Southlands. This was supernatural. Malinor had clearly offended it by what he said. Malinor wavered and then dropped to one knee, bowing his head. The shadow of the dragon approached and consumed Malinor, eclipsing him from the sun. The heat was gone. Malinor dared not look up. It felt eerily similar to touching the gate.


    ¡°You are the dragon god, banished to the south by your fellow gods, and imprisoned by Patronalus. How are you here?¡±


    ¡°You said it yourself. I am a god. And I have been¡­waiting a long time for this moment.¡±


    ¡°What moment?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t get by without a little help.¡±


    ¡°How can you help me?¡±


    Suddenly everything around them skipped, wiggling in place like he was doing before. Only this time it included Malinor. Reality shook and the black gate behind the dragon dissolved away, changing to red caverns. The dragon¡¯s eyes glowed.


    ¡°I am Dracobra the god of darkness, if I allow you passage into my kingdom you must swear to return north and free my physical body from the earthly prison Patronalus put me in.¡±


    ¡°I swear it. Embody me with your goodwill and I will bring what I learn back to the north and lead the liberation of your legacy.¡±


    The cavernous walls behind the dragon trembled and cracked into crooked slabs. They shook loose and dropped, hitting the floor and exploding into tiny pieces. Behind the falling cavern boulderock was the sunless sky of the south.


    ¡°By walking through my portals, you accept the seal of the compact. From the moment you walk through, you will start to inherit my power. You will not know how to access it with your feeble northern brain. My people will help you acquire all the resources necessary to journey north and free me. If you fail to keep your end of the compact the darkness will consume you and eventually kill you. Do not treat this decision lightly.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±


    Malinor got off his knee and walked through the first portal into the dragon¡¯s cavern prison, he looked around, the stalagmites and stalactites made the bars and walls of the vast cavern. He walked under the dragon, immensely larger than anything he could have imagined, making himself feel as small as a mossquirrel.


    ¡°You are a brave fool human.¡±


    ¡°Why not use the portals yourself?¡±


    ¡°The only magic more powerful than mine is that tyrant Patronalus. I am made from the gods. He operates the power of the gods like one of the creators themselves.¡±


    ¡°I will use your power to overthrow and kill Patronalus.¡±


    ¡°You are truly something terrible, human. I know now my legacy is in good hands. Move forth through my kingdom as my first exalted; hold your title high before them and take your rightful place as my champion.¡±


    Malinor passed through the second portal and entered the SouthLands.

 Fourth Interlude: Slumber & Stranger

    FOURTH INTERLUDE ¨C SLUMBER & STRANGER


    The Crucifire Sword was not seen for some time after Phaelstrom¡¯s death. The whole world mourned the loss of the Crucifire King but nothing like the magical tools he had created. They were bonded to him as a part of the magic. Once that bond was broken the artifacts became wild and vulnerable to the Supreme Dichotomy¡¯s covenants. The Crucifire Sword quickly fell into rumor and legend. In reality, it slept, a realm away, awaiting for its hero to be reborn.


    Malohrin¡¯s reign over MagnaThora as Dragon Emperor lasted terribly long. He had found a way to prolong his life and outlast his own heirs. He revealed his secret to nobody, but more and more he became a recluse. And so, MagnaThora¡¯s Dark Age crept on through time, enabled by those who lived in fear and indifference.


    It did not happen overnight, but soon the civil unrest grew to a boiling point, houses across the kingdoms revolted against the Dragon Empire. The Lion Kingdom along with the Stag and Steed Kingdoms declared their own kings and their independence from the empire. Recent alliances strained to the verge of collapse while old alliances searched for a way to re-forge their bonds.


    Rebellion sparked with one of the Dragon Emperor¡¯s very own daughters, Alura. When war called the kingdoms to arms, they had to decide between oppression and freedom. The kingdoms chose to fight. The only problem was the armies did not fight together. There was bad blood between most of the kingdoms and their houses. Too much had happened during the reign of the dragon kingdom, too much lost.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The Dragon Emperor¡¯s real downfall was slavery, which wouldn¡¯t be found in any of the history books. The emperor was always to quick to use slavery as an answer for insubordination. People began to get displaced all over MagnaThora, away from their families and loved ones. Separated and abandoned to a life of servitude, until freed either by a rebel king or a benevolent noblemen. And then where does that leave them?


    The people were scattered and scared. People lost their home and their heritage. There became folk from no kingdom. Those who had no recollection of their past, no idea where they came from, or what kingdom they hailed from, no kingdom to call home, nameless towns along the road, across the countryside.


    One man lived amongst these small towns with no family or past. He had no surname. No friends. In fact, the only definable quality about him besides warrior was his soft blond hair wisping wildly in the wind. Since he could remember, he wandered around all over.


    For some time, he thought he might have roots in the Canine Kingdom, but he never had a four-legged companion to call his own. He was the child of no in-particular kingdom. He was the world¡¯s son. And with that lonely curse came a unique gift. Every day that he walked, he felt some kind of darkness growing, not in himself, but in the world changing around him.


    He felt the evil brewing, growing in the world. He could not explain it, but he knew it to be true. So, instinctually, he began to make his way south. One day he saw a dragon in the sky. As far away as he was, it looked larger than a tower. Fascinated, he followed the strange flying beast.


    Before long, he lost it in the clouds and stumbled upon hundreds of thousands of soldiers fighting. An alliance of all free man, brought together to save their land from evil. Without hesitation, the warrior pulled out his sword and joined the fight. He knew right away. This is what he had been waiting for.

 Chapter 30: The Epitaph Road

    Part Three: Carbon Terra


    CHAPTER 30 ¨C THE EPITAPH ROAD


    One mishap and you just had a bad day. A couple of mishaps in a row and you can start to string along a pattern. Mitakahn looked back on every time his life became more complicated and tried to find a trend. His expulsion from the academy, tampering with the cor, the berserker attack, the trial; every time he was trying to do the same thing¡­ push the limit on reality. Mitakahn felt like he was subconsciously forcing himself to get out and see the world. Was he guilty of his own exile? The prince did not want to admit he was getting away from the very same kingdom he was trying to save. He did not want to admit it because he knew it not to be true. He carried on because this was the only way.


    It was midday before he took his first break. He wanted to get some distance between himself and Zepathorum. It was bad enough that he had to avoid stepping onto the wrong side of the road; he did not want people to see him lingering around. Mitakahn had a long path ahead of him. That much was clear. So, he walked while he thought it out. He considered all of his options. Anilithy¨¬stad told him before he left, that there was always a place waiting for him at Metuchen shores with the rest of his family. But Mitakahn knew deep down that his mother¡¯s home was not his destination. His destination was the libraries of Epitaph City, more importantly Demascus.


    Forward motion meant catching up with Excelsior and Orion, but he had no idea how far they had gotten in their quest to rally the troops. When it came down to it, he did not know where they would be, which proved troublesome. Thankfully, for right now the navigation was easy, a simple choice, go east, because there was no other way. Mitakahn had to be careful to remain on the road and could not cut any corners.


    This strict guideline was because he was still walking the perimeter of the Serengeti, and his court sentence did not permit him to walk on native soil anymore. This combined with the refusal of a mount or going north to Axion meant Mitakahn now faced a prolonged amount of time traveling by foot. He tried to ignore the fact that it was, what seemed like, an endless path ahead of him, and concentrated on the bluish-gray stones beneath his feet.


    One step at a time.


    In creation, the stones might have been flawless, but now, after the decay of nature through time, the corners were round, there were cracks riddled throughout, and small chunks missing every so often. Mitakahn examined the discrepancies and blemishes for patterns. It made the long hours pass by. After a while he could swear that he was reading messages in the roadstone. Thankfully today, his first day of exile, was soon ending. So, he picked out a spot on the northern side of the road and began to build a shelter. He was excited to get that portion of his day out of the way. Finally, he had the time in the sunlight to read the Carbon Terra chapter in the mandrake chronicle. The couple of pages of text that have been eluding him since before the trial were now on the agenda of an otherwise quiet day. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    There were many small towns on the Serengeti side of the road he could spot from a distance, but none really that were right beside the road. Mitakahn had picked a spot in between such towns, careful not to catch any unwanted attention. The northern side of the road was relatively clear of any townships. Mitakahn had packed essential tools and equipment in his bag, the first of which he was pulling out to set up his shelter.


    He put a tent consisting of furs and poles together quickly, his new home. He also pulled from his pack a stick of flint and a pouch of wool. Mitakahn created a fire ring of rocks in front of his tent and went on a hunt for some firewood. When he returned from his hike, the sun was approaching the horizon. Mitakahn set the wood inside the fire pit, took out some wool from the pouch, and placed it systematically between the wood. With his father¡¯s hunting knife and the stick of flint Mitakahn cracked a spark, which fell onto the wool, lighting the wool aflame and gradually lit the wood inside the fire pit.


    After some time sitting between his tent and the fire Mitakahn found himself getting a little hungry. He could hunt, he could set a snare, but he was already tired and feeling rather lethargic, so he pulled a piece of dried roast from his pack and nibbled on that. Mitakahn slid his pack behind him and took out the chronicle flipping through to the Carbon Terra chapter he had been so eagerly anticipating since he started this crazy pursuit. Mitakahn hoped for answers this time. He lifted the book up for deep examination.


    MACHINATIONS ¨C CANINE KINGDOM


    Carbon Terra Description Properties Origin Sources


    Mitakahn thought it would be best to start at the beginning. The description made it sound like a giant diamond. He knew from common knowledge that it was considered to be worth millions. Its properties were mostly unproven claims of prosperity, an item that garnered affluence and wealth. This artifact was the quintessential definition of a hidden treasure. There were other secondary properties. They mentioned abilities like using it as a window to the future or a gateway to the heavens. Everything was folklore, mere speculation.


    If Mitakahn wanted to know for sure what it was and how it was involved with his vision he had to consult the origin page. He began to read it ¡®¡­the Carbon Terra was one of Quarrel¡¯s Plunders, one of the god-stones collected by the warlocks. The god-stones had a name according to the common folk, known throughout the kingdoms as the Incapsulate Impernums. These gems were some of the most famous treasures of their age due to the rumors of their origin. According to the elders of the ancient tribes these jewels were divinity incarnate, meaning they were the very-¡¯


    Before Mitakahn could continue, he saw someone approaching his camp from behind the open book. In the time it took to read one section of the chronicle Mitakahn risked dropping his guard, not thinking anything of it. A decision he would soon regret. It was foolish to think that the road near his home would be devoid of trouble.

 Chapter 31: The Brutality of Exile

    CHAPTER 31 ¡ª THE BRUTALITY OF EXILE


    ¡°Good evening.¡±


    The voice was clear and not confrontational at all. This clued Mitakahn into the possibility that he might be dealing with professionals. ¡°Now, you look like one of those Z-city socialites¡­am I mistaken?¡± A slender, but not necessarily tall, man with a big nose and long blond hair shaved on the sides walked into Mitakahn¡¯s camp. He wore nice clothes that Mitakahn could see right through and identify as mismatched sets from different kingdoms. The dark-bristled fur vest was clearly from out east in the MassifLands. The snakeskin pants are unmistakably from the Komodo Maze. He himself looked like he could be of lion or gorilla allegiance. Mitakahn could not make him, but he knew one thing. He is too calm to be acting alone.


    ¡°What gave it away?¡±


    ¡°The amount of gear you have packed to set up a simple camp.¡±


    ¡°I am but a humble traveling merchant. My gear is my trade. I am on the road to meet with my brother¡­and his companions.¡±


    ¡°I used to live in Z-city, that place knew how to keep the rich rich and the poor poor and still make it look like the king was doing good. Are you one of those do-gooders?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to kill me if I¡¯m charitable?¡±


    ¡°You have a sharp tongue for a merchant. I am merely easing you into the transition.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°To be blunt, me and my gang are going to rob you of everything you got. If you don¡¯t struggle-¡±


    Before the thief could finish Mitakahn was on his feet and attempting to draw his sword. He could hear the footsteps close-in around him. He was outnumbered. He managed to get his sword free before they attacked him. One went for the sword and another kicked Mitakahn in the back of his legs, bringing him down to his knees. They threw his sword away, and both kicked him repeatedly, bouncing him back and forth on the ground until he stopped fighting back. They followed up with a couple stomps on his back to discourage any further retaliation. He was now ready. They grabbed each of his arms. The rest of the gang came out of the brush and began taking apart Mitakahn¡¯s camp and rummaging through his belongings.


    ¡°That was a mistake. See, at first I liked you, with your quick wit. It would have made for a fun encounter, but then you went the way of the warrior like a fool. Now you¡¯re going to pay for it severely.¡±


    The leader kicked Mitakahn in the stomach causing him to cough and keel over. He picked Mitakahn¡¯s face up by the chin with one hand and clenched his fist with the other. The leader punched Mitakahn across the jaw. The exiled prince tumbled away onto the floor in pain. The two henchmen picked him back up while he struggled to catch his breath.


    ¡°You could have been an entertaining mark.¡±


    Mitakahn took a deep breath as he saw him wind up for another punch. The second blow to the head sent Mitakahn¡¯s vision backwards. He looked out towards the road hoping to see an ally. ¡°You could have been a funny mark.¡± The beating ensued as he gave his spirit to the gods and prayed for their intervention, maybe one of his friends, one of his cousins¡­ ¡°You could have been a high value mark.¡± Perhaps Anilithy¨¬stad or Cel¡¯a or his brother. ¡°You could have been an easy mark.¡± Maybe Chronis or Echo, or even a good-willed passerby. ¡°A boring mark doesn¡¯t seem like it was ever an option.¡± The sad truth was clear. The one person Mitakahn prayed for was long gone. Mitakahn was alone. His father was dead. Nothing could stop what was happening.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t really matter because now you are going to be a dead mark,¡± the thief smirked. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Mitakahn raised his hand for mercy. One of the men holding him up thought he heard a whisper. ¡°I think he wants to say something, boss.¡±


    Mitakahn caught his breath and gathered his energy to speak.


    ¡°Well, what is it?¡±


    ¡°The gods won¡¯t let me get killed by a man whose hair looks like he lost a fight with a chimp and a pair of clippers.¡±


    The men around him tried to hide their impulsive chuckles. Mitakahn stole the boss¡¯s smirk. He could feel the right side of his face swelling up with each passing moment, slowly covering his eye and impeding his sight. The leader of the gang stepped back, ready to kick Mitakahn again.


    ¡°Boss, take a look at this.¡± A henchman in front of the one going through his bag had found the mandrake mandate on the ground.


    ¡°That is definitely worth something. Take special care of it.¡±


    ¡°What about this, boss?¡± the thief with Mitakahn¡¯s bag pointed out.


    ¡°It looks like a jar.¡±


    ¡°Could be valuable¡­¡±


    Mitakahn no longer cared how beaten-in his face was. He listened to them casually talk about the container of his father¡¯s last breath and panicked.


    ¡°It¡¯s an empty jar, you idiot. They are a coin a set.¡±


    Mitakahn summoned what was left of his strength to try and break free of the grip the two thieves had on him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, boss, it could be some fancy jar.¡±


    The leader briskly walked up to the henchman holding the jar and Mitakahn knew he had to make his move. He punched one of the guards between the legs and tripped the other slamming his head into a rock on the ground. The leader, now startled by Mitakahn¡¯s rage, turned, and ran away. Mitakahn stumbled forward clumsily, cocked his fist, and tried to punch. It turned into more of a tackle than a punch, but still had the same effect on the thief holding the jar. In their scramble the jar rolled away onto the floor, narrowly missing rocks jagged enough to puncture its glass.


    He kicked away from the thief and tried to crawl over to the jar. The thief clawed at his feet and then jumped forward. Mitakahn timed it perfectly in his wounded haze and kicked the thief directly in the face. He cradled the jar closely and exhaled. The thief was no longer moving, he could be dead, but most likely he was just knocked out. It mattered not. The jar was safe once again. Mitakahn looked at it in his hand.


    Back in a flash, the leader came crashing down on him with Mitakahn¡¯s own sword breaking the jar into a hundred pieces in Mitakahn¡¯s hand. The pain was excruciating. The broken glass thrashed his hand. The sharpness of the pain caused by trying to turn it made it nearly impossible. Mitakahn screamed in utter frustration. He finally brandished the hunting knife given to him, and plunged it into the leader¡¯s leg, bringing him down to Mitakahn¡¯s level. With little hesitation or resistance, he took the knife out of his leg and stuck it in the thief¡¯s chest.


    The leader exhaled, releasing Mitakahn¡¯s sword. The other henchman rushed over to their fallen leader. Mitakahn threw him towards them and backed away waving the bloody knife. They stayed away from him; none brave enough to exact revenge. Instead, they rushed away. Mitakahn could hear them as they scrambled off.


    ¡°Cass is gonna kill us.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t go back without him.¡±


    They took with them everything Mitakahn had except his sword, the clothes on his back, and his father¡¯s hunting knife. Mitakahn waited as long as he could with his back against a giant rubble rock. He stayed awake and kept his sword out, expecting them to return and finish the job. He could not remember when night fell or when he fell asleep, but he made it through alive. Thankfully, for him, they never revisited the scene of a crime. He had survived a robbery on the road.


    Mitakahn¡¯s mouth filled with blood. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he slid down the rock and his face wiped the blood along its rough surface. The blood smeared and dripped down the other side. He landed roughly causing an upswept gust of dander and debris spotted with the prince¡¯s blood. It caught the current and lifted high enough to lose sight of the ground. The gust of wind carried the scent back to the city under the very nose of the lioness of the royal courtyards. Gabriella recognized it immediately and some primordial trigger unleashed her upon the world. That night the royal guard spotted the lioness climbing over the city walls north.

 Chapter 32: Rock Bottom

    CHAPTER 32 ¨C ROCK BOTTOM


    It was time to wake up. Even though he did not want to do it, this was at least the third time Mitakahn had woken up on the same giant round-rubble rock. The other times he could not help but fall right back asleep because of all of the pain and fatigue. He was lucky he did not die in his sleep. Now he was able to keep his eyes open and assess his surroundings. There was nothing or no one in sight. He could hear some birds in the background but that was it. He decided to get to his feet and look for scraps.


    When he tried to push himself up his left hand burst with pain as soon as he moved it. He looked down, the cuts stopped bleeding, a good sign. The problem was he could barely move his hand. He had to get a closer look. Mitakahn shook his head. Something was wrong. He could see fine out of his left eye, but the bruise over his right eye was the worst one on his body. It throbbed like a sting and practically blinded him. Besides his hand, his head hurt the most, making it hard for him to walk straight. He gradually stumbled to the creek closest to his camp that he could remember. The water was deep enough and slow enough for Mitakahn to go in to his waist.


    Mitakahn dunked his face in the spring water. It was refreshing, and cold enough to jolt him into a more alert state. Mitakahn drank from the stream by cupping his right hand to his mouth. The cold spring water revived him inside and out. He did not really appreciate a cold drink of water before this day, something Mitakahn would never forget for as long as he lived.


    He took his hunting knife out and pressed its blade against the bruise over his eye. He carefully nestled the edge of the blade into the purple flesh of the bruise to break it and relieve the pressure it was causing. Mitakahn learned bloodletting from his time at the academy. Doing it in the stream was a good way to numb it out before the incision while simultaneously being a reliable source of sterilization. He waited until he stopped bleeding and tried his best to wrap a bandage he tore from his sleeve around his head to cover his right eye.


    After a couple of hours, Mitakahn gathered the strength to walk back to the road. Once again feeling the stones under his feet he lifted the headband. To Mitakahn¡¯s relief he could see out of his right eye again. Things were starting to look a little better, but his left hand was definitely broken. Mitakahn took a deep breath as he decided to take a closer look at the injury. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Mitakahn deduced that if he tried different parts of his hand in isolation from each other it might help define the break more. He wiggled his fingers and only felt residual pain. That was a good sign. None of his fingers were broken. Mitakahn rubbed his forearm and no spikes in pain either. It had to be his wrist. Mitakahn braced himself and tried to turn his hand. The amount of pain that caused him was enough to make any man faint. Mitakahn tried his best not to fall over. He refashioned the headband with a sturdy stick he found under a bushel tree to make a tourniquet for his left arm. It was enough to keep his hand in place and prevent continuous agony. He walked as far down the road as he could before fatiguing. In pure desperation, he fell asleep lying down right next to the oldstone road.


    The sound of travelers walking by woke Mitakahn up the next morning. He could tell they were talking about him. He did not move. He was half-afraid of what they would do and half-embarrassed they would recognize him. As they continued to ignore him a loaf of stale bread dropped right before Mitakahn. The prince never thought his life would one day depend upon the pity of strangers. Mitakahn devoured the bread. It gave him enough energy to walk the road for a couple of hours and start scouting for a good place to rest overnight.


    It was amazing how his life boiled down to four or five simple acts: breathe, rest, drink, eat. When the world is this basic, it cancels almost everything else out. After he finished the bread, his mind was able to focus on the next logical step. Since he did not have anything to set up, he had to find a natural structure to shield him from rainfall or any other environmental disturbance while he slept. If he could find something fortified enough he could maybe spend another day or two healing. But Mitakahn was careful not to get caught in the same predicament as he did the first night.


    A hollowed out grandfather tree served as the best cover he would find tonight. He was grateful. Broken at its stem, it laid over onto another tree. The fall caused the hollow tree to break open enough for Mitakahn to slip in and out with ease. It was almost like a sleeping camp made out of bark. Mitakahn nestled into the gap and pulled the loose bark off the tree. It fell in one sheet and covered the gap, giving Mitakahn complete privacy.


    This was the perfect place to lay low and get some rest. Mitakahn could barely keep his eyes open. So, when he felt little critters with more than two legs crawling on him he paid no attention to it. Nothing was worse than his current state. Thankfully, he was able to go the day without any incident, getting that much further on the path to recovery.

 Chapter 33: Unlike Any Storm Ever Seen

    CHAPTER 33 ¡ª UNLIKE ANY STORM EVER SEEN


    Mitakahn remembered little from the days that passed. He took with him a feeling of regret for being too stubborn to go to Axion in the mountains. He memorized the name of the other gems the Carbon Terra was a part of right before he got pummeled half to death¡­


    Incapsulate Impernums


    It was enough of a lead to take to the libraries at Epitaph City. Once he made that connection, he realized he really didn¡¯t lose much, only the jar, which was priceless. How could he pull off what he wanted to without it? Mitakahn just had to tell himself¡­ where there is a will there is a way. He ignored the fact that chances were very slim without the last breath. For right now, all he had to do was get to Epitaph City and hope the rest would be revealed. That meant first getting to Towerock and the road south. The only other lasting thought Mitakahn was able to take from the grandfather tree was his inability to keep track of the days. He had no way of knowing how long it had been since he departed Zepathorum.


    Regret, a clue, and time-loss.


    He was strong enough to walk longer today, finally making some serious headway from Zepathorum. He was starting to get hungry again. Before he could focus on what to do for dinner, the clouds above him began to show their shadow and fill the air with moisture. He could tell a thunderstorm was moving in. The clouds gathered like an army rallying to battle, cumulus accumulation taking the forefront of the skies and preparing for something epic above them.


    It would just be a matter of minutes before it rained. All of the telltale signs were revealing themselves, the sudden drop in temperature, the increase in humidity, and the utter lack of sunshine. Mitakahn did not mind a rain-shower as long as it was a mild one. The atmosphere above churning and darkened, its fury building towards something ungodly. Mitakahn had never witnessed such a build up before a storm before. He would have to find a suitable shelter before it was too late. Time was against him.


    The humidity was leaving, rising to the final clash of pressure and moisture in the air. Even more unnerving was the fact that there had been no thunder or lightning leading up to the storm-break. Mitakahn thought he saw flashes from behind the shadow, illuminating the concentrated columns of clouds. The pressure was building immensely with no outlet of light or sound, no boom, no flash. The storm was here but the effects were still on its way.


    When the clouds finally opened up, it did not feel right. This rain was different. It was a static rain. There was no fall. There were no drops. Somewhere between a squall and a fog provided a strong density to the area that Mitakahn was getting stuck in. It immediately made him feel uneasy, as if MagnaThora was off its axis, a feeling that cut right to the core of him and turned his stomach. He took a moment to acclimate.


    It felt like walking through a murky swamp to him. This was unnatural for any ordinary storm, a glitching gale, a broken tempest. The humidity claimed dominion over the atmospheric density. Gravity latched onto Mitakahn with an enormous invisible blanket and pulled him down, smothering his path. He put all of his might into moving, into just getting one more step forward.


    A loud crack in the sky and everything toppled over. The static-quake snapped all the fog in the air up to the clouds, concentrating the condensation, and released it in one fell swoop. The sudden rainfall knocked Mitakahn off his feet. When he managed to stand back up, he was not where he started. The road was gone and replaced by a hill with a great willow tree grown over a round boulderock at the top. When he looked closer, he thought he saw the stump growing into the stone.


    The roots nestled into the rock, cracking its spherical nature, the same way a river carves out a canyon over millennia. It was almost as if the storm invigorated the growth of the willow tree. He ran for the hilltop, as the splashing rain became worse and worse. All of the tree¡¯s thick branches and hanging, fleeted leaves provided ample cover, but Mitakahn could already see the tree was rapidly losing leaves. The branches whipped around and suddenly another bolt of lightning crackled through the sky and struck right through the tree like a javelin.


    The lightning pierced the tree, impaled the stone, and ricocheted through the hill to return to the sky, but then, the strangest thing happened. The bolt of lightning stopped. It was frozen in place. It was doing the one thing lightning was never known to do¡­be still. It didn¡¯t retreat. Unlike any other lightning strike, it wasn¡¯t over in an instant. Mitakahn was too close to move. To him it looked like the lightning was trapped in the ground.


    Mitakahn looked closer. The power surge of lightning appeared to be too much for the thunderbolt to contain without being in motion. The energy creeped into the closest thing it could find. The impressions around where the thunderbolt hit the boulderock glowed. The glow flooded the rock and changed its color, purifying it an earthy white, resembling that of ivory but with a less smooth, finished feel and more of a rustic, imperfect tone. The harnessed lightning fascinated Mitakahn. How could this transfer of energy to the boulderock be a natural occurrence? No, this was a natural phenomenon.


    The stone grew brighter and brighter until it could no longer contain the light. Just like before, it pushed past the rock and bleached the willow tree. It found a home in the leaves and even the rainwater that nestled over every surface. The rain sizzled off the lighted tree. Mitakahn watched it gather, plunge, and expel within the branches like a hornet¡¯s nest. It swirled and mixed with the stormy air making its way over to him surprisingly fast. The rainwater whisked by his face, and he felt better instantly. He moved his fingers over his right eye and the bruise was gone, even more peculiar the cut he made with his knife was now a scar, completely skipping the scab stage.


    The rain healed him. When he thought about it, the healing factors were less a cause and more like a symptom of whatever natural phenomena occurred. The lightning was rattling the boulderock beneath him trying to break free of its hold. Mitakahn could breathe and walk comfortably now. His wrist was still broken, but only his side ached beyond that. Overall, it was a tremendous improvement. Mitakahn did not want to try his luck. He slowly backed away from the tree. Then two things happened simultaneously making it hard for Mitakahn to decipher the implications they presented. A loud roar from an ancient beast bellowed out from within the clouds above and all of the rainwater surrounding him instantly froze.


    For the time being Mitakahn forgot about the light show. All of his focus was now on the frozen water. He had never seen snow before. He only knew what to call it from his studies of MagnaThora¡¯s Ice Age, the time of endless winters. Nothing could prepare him for the real thing. Sure, the coldness almost burned his skin like fire, but the beauty of the snowfall and the pleasing drift of the snowflake was something truly to behold. Then Mitakahn had a look at the intricacies of one single flake. The symmetry of the hard corners and even lines made nature look like it had specific designs to put humankind at awe. His next move was one of pure youth. Mitakahn lined up a snowflake falling above him and opened his mouth so it would land right on his tongue. He felt it dissolve instantly and smiled. It was delicious.


    Why had he never seen a snowfall or a winter at that? The obvious answer was because of the Burning Mountains surrounding MagnaThora. They generated too much heat for any cold climates to take hold of the region. Somehow, the truth seemed deeper than just a smoldering mountain range. Natural boundaries could not completely contain MagnaThora from the rest of the world. Mitakahn knew there had to be more of an explanation out there, but before his mind could wander off too far the rattling light from within the boulderock called him back to his strange reality. Something was seriously wrong with this land. It was time to leave. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Another scream came from the sky. It was clearly some kind of a beast but this time its call sounded more like a cry for help. Perhaps it had fallen victim to the natural phenomenon. The white fields around him were unapproachable. He felt like his gravity was multiplying, a density surrounded him and weighed him down. It was almost easier to walk back to the stone. In fact, it felt much better to do so. Mitakahn retraced his footprints in the snow.


    He didn¡¯t realize the density followed him in until it was too late. He tried to walk away from the lit tree again but couldn¡¯t budge. Now he was close enough to the stone to reach out and touch it. The bright branches of the willow tree dangled above him. The light within the stone and tree seemed harmless but it also appeared to be the cause of all these crazy environmental changes.


    It was time for Mitakahn to do what he did best and make a regrettable decision. He reached forth and touched the rock with his left hand. Not even a gentle touch with just the tip of his pointer finger, but a full palming of the boulderock. It didn¡¯t matter that the arm was in a sling. During times of pure fascination Mitakahn defaulted to pure impulse, and his instinct was his left hand, broken or not.


    Mitakahn¡¯s eyes immediately rolled back in his head and lit on fire, a blue fire, as if it had never left. The light from the thunderbolt supercharged Mitakahn at first touch. He slipped into an electro-induced dream. His eyes rolled back and poured blue light out in every direction. Only one other time had the transition been so severe, the very first time, when he drank Echo¡¯s potion.


    It was pure darkness, stitched over my eyes to keep me from seeing the truth. I did not want to be here. This was not my doing, but if I am really having another vision. I will make the most of it, and dream of the Carbon Terra. Then why am I only seeing darkness? Is that why this pursuit of the diamond is so obscured in mystery?


    I¡¯m starting to get the feeling that just by pulling on these insane threads I am inadvertently causing the very doom my dreams foretell. So many times, now I have been stripped away of things closest to me, it is hard keeping myself grounded. The berserker showed me pure emotional darkness, the beating I received from the thieves showed me pure physical darkness. I get broken down, piece by piece, just to get put back together again in someone else¡¯s image. But whom?


    The darkness cracks through the stitches but does not give way to light. Only screams can be heard from behind the shroud of darkness. The cause of the ear-piercing screeches gets closer, and I can hear a scraping along with it. I want to wake up. It sounds horrible, like something that can kill me. If I can even die here¡­I just want to move. I want to break through this ensnaring darkness and soldier on. I have a mission and it starts with ridding myself of the darkness that burdens me. I shake my body and dislodge my arm from beneath me. I slide my hand to my chest. I can feel the light within. But I must find a way to reveal it. The screams get louder. I can feel its presence hovering over me. It is no beast. It is a person. And it does scream¡­she cries.


    I hum my mother¡¯s song, one from our childhood lullabies. On instinct it is the only thing I can think of quick enough. The blood-curdling cry of the monster is almost paralyzing. If I do not get free soon she will strike with her dragging claws. They scrape like metal on rock.


    Lord¡¯s mercy for the savannah glades


    A bountiful spread of the lion¡¯s share


    The crimson sun shines while the shadow fades


    Keeping our land in the light and our country fair


    The glow of light emanating from my chest cut beams through my hand. The beacons cut through the stitches and freed my sight. With the light comes back consciousness. You know how I can tell? I can feel, once again, the heightened sensation of my left hand getting charged by the lighted stone.


    ? ? ?


    The static light from within made it warm to the touch. It felt good after his time in the snow. That was until he realized he couldn¡¯t pull his hand off. Mitakahn panicked and tried pulling with his other hand. The excruciating pain instantly reminded him of his broken wrist. This was not good. The more he struggled to get his hand off the more the pain came back, and even worse, the more his makeshift tourniquet became undone. Mitakahn had to swallow the pain and do whatever he could to break free. He even got his knees under his arms and feet on the stone to put all his weight into pulling his left hand off. It didn¡¯t work, but boy did it smart like hell. The tourniquet finally fell apart, leaving his wrist bare. He looked down and saw the light crawling towards his fingers. The lightning wanted to take him over too.


    Two razor sharp metal shards darted through the air. They sunk into the rock around his hand. The unique squawk supported by the sound of chimes made it clear to Mitakahn who had arrived to save the day. Chronis the silver-tailed hawk dive-bombed down towards Mitakahn on the ground and rolled to avoid the tree. The snow was quickly melting on the ground revealing the misted green of the grassy hill. Before he crashed into Mitakahn and the rock, Chronis reversed course, launching his wings forward, releasing two more metal feathers.


    Their impacts sent cracks to the other two breaches, connecting together, and lodging a cube of the stone loose. Mitakahn fell to the ground with it. The weight of the boulder grinded his broken wrist-bones together. The pain was overwhelming. He wanted to faint. He felt the sensation lurking, but he needed to press on. After the release, all of the light from the hill gathered into the bedrock and jolted back up through the tree, finally releasing the thunderbolt back to the sky.


    What was left of the snow and the lighted rain was now gone. All that remained was the piece of the glowing bedrock still attached to Mitakahn¡¯s hand. Chronis jumped down to him on the ground and hopped over to help with the rock. As he tried wedging his tail between them, Mitakahn took a moment to pet the bird. He felt it was a good way to show his gratitude. Nothing meant more to him than having a friend back by his side. He patted Chronis on the top of the head. The bird awkwardly froze in place, human affection was still new to him.


    Even the tiny feathers were made of soft silver. Petting Chronis felt like rubbing thinly veiled metal. Mitakahn examined the flight grease coating the silver wings. It was a fine layer, probably a natural discharge, like sweat, that prevented rust. He rubbed the bird¡¯s featherhead as he got a closer look. He began to notice the mystical bird warming up to him. Chronis closed his eyes and enjoyed the praise.


    A loud thud broke their wholesome reunion. A brief whimper sounded off in the same direction as the crash. The whimper reminded Mitakahn of the roars from the clouds. He looked at Chronis who was already back on-guard. Chronis flew up towards the crash. Mitakahn broke into the best run he could muster and scrambled after his companion. When Mitakahn arrived at the crash he took a wide stance, still dragging the rock, and readied himself as Chronis landed on his shoulder.


    The smoke from the crash cleared and before them was a massive creature of ancient legend. It did not take Chronis by surprise. Mitakahn, on the other hand, could not believe his eyes. He thought nothing could top the snow. The dragon did not look dead. In fact, if he looked closely enough he could see its smooth black scale-covered chest moving up and down. Its arms, legs, and even its tail were each longer than Mitakahn head-to-toe. The black scales gave way to charcoal gray stripes along its hide and seemed to give off a reddish glow as if from the fire within. The gray led all the way up to its head gradually paling to bone horns.


    Mitakahn was most intrigued by the thin layer of skin that made up its wingspan between the tendon and bones protruding from its shoulders. He wondered how such material could be thick enough to propel this massive beast off the ground but thin enough to keep it airborne. The same redness dominated the dragon¡¯s wing-skin, disqualifying Mitakahn¡¯s theory that its source was from the fire in the belly of the beast. After careful examination of the downed powerhouse, Mitakahn shared a look of agreement with Chronis. The sentiment was quite mutual between man and bird. They should leave before it woke up. There was only one problem with that. As they turned around someone was standing there waiting for them.

 Chapter 34: The Dragon Rider

    CHAPTER 34 ¨CTHE DRAGON RIDER


    There was no denying this intruder was from the dragon kingdom, judging by the armor and of course the dragon. Smooth-plated amethyst dragon emblems spiraled over the rider¡¯s leather undercoat, reflecting the black-steel metal from the helmet with amethyst winged-ears that connected to the visor. Mitakahn had to be careful and assume the dragon rider was a threat. He clumsily went for his sword with his right hand. The dragon rider took a ready stance. Mitakahn could tell just from one repositioning that she was a woman. All he saw from the visor slit of her helmet were dark eyes, but they curved at the edges, like that of only a woman with almond shaped eyes. This would also explain the small stature beneath the rustic armor. They got closer and Mitakahn became less worried. Even if she did hail from the most evil kingdom in all of MagnaThora, this unassuming rider posed no threat to him.


    Mitakahn let his guard down slightly and the dragon rider took it to her advantage. She swooped low and kicked the boulder Mitakahn carried causing him to fall over. She pounced on him, and he threw his weight. They tumbled over together and Mitakahn landed with the chunk of boulderock on top of her helmet, pinning it to the ground. Without hesitation, the dragon rider slipped her helmet off and kicked Mitakahn back. He stumbled uncontrollably, giving into the pain from his hand. The rider jumped on top of him. Mitakahn stole a good look at her. She had long, wild brunette hair to match her dark brown eyes, a serious brow, with delicate lips, and perfect white teeth. She brandished a dagger close enough to Mitakahn¡¯s neck to gain his full cooperation.


    Mitakahn gathered his strength and threw her off, staggering to his feet. He hobbled around; the boulderock was still attached to his other hand. Exhaustion would soon win the day. He had to find a way to come to terms. Mitakahn searched his mind for something neutral and non-aggressive to say.


    ¡°I do not want to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°You will never get the chance.¡±


    ¡°My name is Mitakahn. The storm has punished me too.¡±


    The dragon rider looked at Mitakahn cradling his own hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you, northern boy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fair. I think I know what you mean. You come from a dark legend. Right now, mothers all over MagnaThora are telling their children stories to keep them in bed because if they don¡¯t, a monster like you will get them. Most people hope to the gods that those monsters are just that¡­stories, but here you are¡­standing right in front of me. Nightmares of the past come to life. I have every reason to assume you are hostile. Yet still, I¡­do not¡­want¡­to hurt you.¡±


    The dragon rider continued to stare at Mitakahn. Her demeanor did not change one bit. Mitakahn honestly could not tell if he was getting through to her or not. Then she spoke.


    ¡°You can call me¡­Zora.¡± Against her better judgment, she decided to let her guard down, but only slightly. Mitakahn jumped on the opportunity to continue the conversation.


    ¡°Is that your dragon?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my child rests grounded, waiting to be revived.¡±


    It worked like a charm. Zora¡¯s focus immediately switched over to the downed dragon.


    ¡°Your dragon is the most impressive thing I have ever seen.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. You can call him Fathom.¡±


    ¡°How do we help Fathom?¡±


    ¡°I have this.¡±


    Zora revealed a massive snowball she had stowed away.


    ¡°You still have snow?¡±


    ¡°Not just snow. This is a fruit.¡±


    ¡°A fruit?¡±


    ¡°Here¡±


    Zora broke the giant snowfruit against her dagger and it cracked perfectly in half. Inside it was hollow but not empty. Zora felt around and pulled the blue goo out of it with her fingers. She let it accumulate in her cupped-hand and brought it over to the giant slumbering black dragon. Zora let the juice of the snowfruit drip onto the dragon¡¯s face. The juice leaked into his mouth. She had good aim and made sure it got where it needed to go. Some of it, of course, missed the dragon¡¯s long scaly-lipped mouth and dripped down the tough reptile skin. Zora got close and wiped the excess snowfruit juice across the dragon¡¯s nose. The refreshing spray brought the dragon back to life. Fathom stirred as if he was shaking free of a spell. He did not care for the events of late. He swallowed and then licked at the cold essence lathered under his nose, his forked tongue made sure to get every last drop. Then he spat some fire and lifted into the air like a wild beast. Mitakahn backed away startled. Zora smirked.


    ¡°He will be okay.¡± She reassured him, ¡°This is a common trick when a rider is stuck away from the city during the winter time.¡±


    ¡°You have winters where you come from?¡±


    ¡°I come from MagnaThora just like you, lion knight.¡±


    ¡°I am no knight and there hasn¡¯t been a winter in quite some time.¡±


    ¡°You are trying to make a fool of me. You northerners are all the same. You think yourselves better than us, when in reality, you know nothing of the south and what it takes to call it home.¡±


    ¡°The southern gate was built for a reason.¡±


    ¡°By cowards.¡±


    ¡°By the gods.¡±


    ¡°You think it protects you. Who do you think protects it?¡±


    Mitakahn looked over at Chronis who twitched his head and looked back at Mitakahn.


    ¡°Why do you look so worried?¡± the dragon rider asked.


    ¡°I think you are a time traveler. And I think that storm brought you here.¡±


    ¡°That is nonsense, Mitrocon. There is no such thing as time travel. You unfroze the rabid thunderbolt and for that I am in your debt. When Fathom returns, I will help you fix your hand as repayment.¡±


    ¡°That is not necessary but very gracious of you. And my name is Mit-A-kahn.¡±


    ¡°That is what I said Mitercon.¡±


    Mitakahn smiled and nodded his head. He silently figured out another way to bring up the fact that she was from another time, the very pages of history. Zora stepped out and began a call that placed somewhere between a whistle and a song. It was of pure melody and echoed through the valley. A giant roar let out and then the world shook. The crashing noise in reality was the dragon redirecting his flight pattern.


    ¡°Listen, I think something very serious happened to you during this storm.¡± Mitakahn tried to get her to pay attention to him, but it was not working. ¡°A couple of days ago I almost got beaten to death by thieves.¡±


    Zora finally focused on him at those last words. She scanned him up and down in order to tell if he was being honest. Mitakahn knew if she thought he was lying nothing would stop her from confronting him about it.


    ¡°You do not show any signs of a beating.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because the storm took them away, but I can assure you my left wrist is completely broken. Here, take a look at this.¡±


    Mitakahn lifted his tunic up and revealed to her the bruises on his ribs. Most of his torso was completely healed. This created such a deep contrast between the bruised sections that it looked like there was a line going down Mitakahn¡¯s abdomen. It was all the proof he needed. No human being heals like this, in extreme patches, it did not matter what kingdom you came from. She was starting to consider something was wrong. She looked north and finally acknowledged something she had been remaining willfully dense of since the snow melted.


    ¡°Why do the Burning Mountains smoke like that?¡±


    ¡°That is exactly the kind of question no one from the last millennia would ask.¡±


    From the clouds, Fathom descended in a nosedive, still stretching himself out since the turbulent storm. He did a freefall spin and turned over, spreading his dark wings as far as they could go to catch the wind and slow him down. The giant black dragon brought his wings back in and landed before Zora, bowing. She rubbed his head and walked away. Mitakahn watched in sheer contentment. It looked as if she was foraging for a moment. When she came back she had the metal tail feathers that Chronis had shot at the stone. That intrigued Chronis enough to keep an eye on her.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°It is rare to come across, but I have seen it before. The electrified boulderock is perma-binding, which is the worst possible scenario for you. There is simply no way to take it off cleanly. I am sorry, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure?¡±


    ¡°I spent my entire education studying the elements of MagnaThora. Boulderock was not exactly Day 1 material, but you wouldn¡¯t find it as a focus in any advanced lessons. Thankfully, I know of a way to fuse it to your bone. It will heal your wrist and I can make the procedure as painless as possible, but the burden will be yours to carry for the rest of your life.¡±


    ¡°That last part about the burden aside, I want to trust you¡­ Sadly, this is not the first time I have been the subject of a radical experiment that started with the innocent act of picking up Chronis¡¯ feathers. So why don¡¯t you tell me exactly what you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°At first I was just going to displace the rock from your hand both covertly and cleverly. Now I am thinking about involving a fourth element.¡±


    ¡°A fourth?¡±


    ¡°Boulderock, flesh, silver, and steel¡­¡±


    Mitakahn looked down, ¡°My sword?¡±


    ¡°I made a gauntlet for my brother. One that retracted whenever he sheathed his sword. I always wished there could be a way to make it form from nothing, a way to obtain full autonomy.¡± Zora rubbed her chin and then noticed him, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Where you come from¡­you are a forgesmith?¡±


    ¡°I was raised in the forges of Morticomb Caverns. For a time, it was all I knew. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°I never expected to meet¡­ someone from south of the great gate. I didn¡¯t know what to think.¡±


    ¡°What did you expect?¡±


    ¡°Something far less beautiful-¡±


    Zora stopped what she was doing and Mitakahn immediately felt awkwardness seep into the air between them. He did not realize what he said until it was too late. Now the words were out and there was no taking it back. Zora went back to tinkering as if nothing happened, immediately relieving Mitakahn who could¡¯ve sworn he caught the smallest of smirks on her face.


    ¡°You are lucky to have crossed paths with such a rare bird.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call my luck of late good, though Chronis is a treasured friend.¡±


    ¡°The metal of his feathers is unlike any metal in MagnaThora. Its very composition is in flux.¡±


    ¡°Will the silver bond with the blade of the sword?¡±


    ¡°Yes, the sword will be far more valuable after this, effective against foes both human and supernatural alike. But there is something else to Chronis¡¯ metal. Imagine being at rest¡­ in flux. A paradox in itself. His metal is practically alive, it twitches between solid and fluid interchangeably, which makes it a perfect candidate for the transient element in the binding; boulderock to sword to bone.¡±


    Mitakahn tried to grasp the idea by repeating it back to Zora, ¡°This binding will combine my flesh and bone with that of the silver feather and boulderock.¡±


    ¡°A metal fist would come in handy the next time a thief tries to beat you up.¡±


    ¡°You make a fair point, if I even had a choice.¡±


    ¡°But you do not.¡±


    ¡°No, I do not,¡± he chanted along with her.


    ¡°I am going to make this a good thing, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Zora.¡±


    By the time they were done setting up for the procedure it was well into the night. Mitakahn was lying down with his bare arm spread out and held down. Chronis hopped along beside him, checking out his own shedding being used in some crazy human experiment. Two tail feathers placed across both sides of Mitakahn¡¯s left arm, one silver feather lay across the top of the stone, and the final feather lay on the hilt of Mitakahn¡¯s sword.


    While Zora was getting ready to forge the stone from his hand she started explaining. ¡°Fathom is old enough to control the temperature of his flame. I have even trained him to be able to dance different temperatures together in his forge. We have gotten so good at our trade that I can perform what is called a cold-fire forge. The bond needs to happen on a cellular level to fuse the stone with your bone, so the fire has to be so hot it changes color temperature to blue.


    ¡°I know techniques to form protective low heat layers and splice them into the forge to protect you from harm. You will feel pain from the actual fusion of flesh and bone during the procedure, it will hurt like hell tomorrow, and it will look scarier than anything you can imagine, but if you trust me and do not move, I can turn this handicap into an invincible piece of armor.¡±


    ¡°I trust you.¡±


    ¡°Lie back.¡±


    ¡°I am ready.¡±


    Caww!


    Chronis launched into the air to be free of the splash-zone. Zora finished reading from her small burgundy velvet book and slipped it back into her satchel. She started an enchantment in another language. ¡°Groomdi ola cornesosa. Cesslen triadnine lewadodoon. Caneiad ola jas doladoon.¡±


    Fathom choked up and right before Mitakahn was completely doused in raging hot fire he saw Zora smiling. He immediately filled with dread. Was this all a show? Was Mitakahn really just dinner? The dragon kingdom from ancient history always had a bad name. That is not the impression Mitakahn got from Zora, so he did not flinch when the dragonfire poured down upon him. Despite the brief nudge of doubt, he trusted his true feelings. He had faith in his newfound friend. The dragon¡¯s fire did not horribly burn him. In fact, it was so low in temperature it felt more like a warm breeze.


    ¡°Groomdi ola cornesosa¡±


    Mitakahn watched fire spewing out of Fathom¡¯s mouth change from deep below. The fierce red and yellow flames generated a blue core that overtook the entire flame. It roared over Mitakahn but a thin veneer of red flame danced around him, maintaining a barrier between him and the cold fire. The top tail feather melted and broke down into the boulderock.


    The stone melted on his hand. It covered his fingers, but he did not burn. He still had all kinds of fire raging around him. The fire whipped and herded the boiling stone across Mitakahn¡¯s left hand to where the tail feathers paralleled each other from the knuckle of his thumb and pinky to the joints of his wrist. It looked like a trick of the eye. All of that glowing white rock melted down into two tiny metal feathers.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid for this next part,¡± Zora yelled over the flames to her subject, ¡°there is no avoiding the pain.¡±


    She tweaked Fathom¡¯s head and he slightly changed the degree in which he spewed flame. The feathers could no longer maintain their individual composure and melted onto Mitakahn¡¯s flesh. He could not help but scream as his flesh seared from the metal feathers fusing with him. The molten silver slithered across Mitakahn wrists and seeped into the scrapes from the broken jar. The mixed alloy of hawk-silver and boulderock coursed through Mitakahn¡¯s veins and found the central skeletal structure. The metal was so broken down it filled the fractures in his wrist bones.


    Like a whip, Zora forged a ribbon of pale cold fire that ran up the streaming metal to where it merged with the bone and ignited the fusion effect. The stone-metal alloy exploded and became one with his flesh and bone, mixing with his blood, connecting to his very essence. The bonding in the bones sealed the breaks together better than any cast or brace ever could. The pain was excruciating because his wrist was forcing itself to reset, regrow, and re-heal. The worst it got the more Mitakahn remembered the rest of his pain. In his screams he channeled all of the frustration he felt from his problems as a way of releasing them; a desperate attempt to free him from his burdens. The pain subsided, dialed down to a dull sore.


    Fathom seemed to have turned the tide of his fiery rage towards the sword now, the last piece of the puzzle. As the sword bonded with the silver tail feather; a soothing sensation took hold of Mitakahn¡¯s left hand. It was coming from a new encompassing flame with hints of green around its edges. It had to be some sort of third flame, but Mitakahn¡¯s ability to focus and reflect on the situation was getting harder and harder. The entire process exhausted Mitakahn. By the end he could not keep his eyes open.


    Mitakahn slept well into the night and even past sunrise. He would have wished he woke up just a little bit sooner to be there for her departure. The loud crack of the wind was what startled him awake. By then it was too late. Zora was in the air gaining altitude quickly and clearly flying south. She was in for a long journey home. Mitakahn had missed his chance to say goodbye and thank the dragon girl.


    ¡°Well, at least you stuck around.¡± He said to Chronis who was looking at him cock-eyed perched on a blossom tree. ¡°Looks like I have part of you in me now, little buddy.¡± Chronis hopped around and chirped enthusiastically.


    The chunk of boulderock was completely gone, more importantly so was the pain. He got to his feet and rubbed his hands together. He looked down at his bare fingertips, void of any boulderock remains. He never thought he would see them again. Mitakahn carefully examined his left wrist as he wiggled it freely, fully healed. All of the cuts on his hand were healed with silver scars twisted around his wrist, down his forearm. They were sore and pain coursed through his body upon touch, but besides that and the bruises on his ribs, Mitakahn had now made a full recovery.


    He brushed himself off and walked over to his sword on the ground. Mitakahn picked it up with his left hand and out from the scars came the boulderock armor. Shining silver metal linked together in slivers up his wrist and palm, then separately spinning together around each of his fingers.


    He had full functionality, touching each tip of his fingers to his thumb around the grip of the sword. When it came together, the reflecting shine turned the armor white like ivory stone and then faded back to the mirror silver. It felt great and even balanced his arm better with the sword, creating a more fluid and sustainable strike. Mitakahn named his sword after the feeling he felt when the gauntlet first opened. From this day forward he would call it Coldstark.


    When Mitakahn finished practicing with his new gauntlet, he sheathed the sword and upon release of the hilt, the gauntlet retracted. He rubbed his wrist. The transition was not without a price. Mitakahn now knew what it felt like to shove an entire gauntlet of armor into a few scars. The intense pressure the imposition put on his flesh gave off a painful sensation. Even still, it wasn¡¯t that bad. What Zora did for him prevented Mitakahn from spending the rest of his life as a cripple. The engineering involved to pull off such a feat was truly impressive. If only he could have thanked the forger responsible for such a marvel.


    Mitakahn concentrated. If the boulderock armor responded to the sword then in theory he could make the scars respond with each other and form the gauntlet without the sword. He tried sensing both of them on his arm. His mind was still too scattered to focus properly. He just could not make it work. Mitakahn exhaled. For now, he would let it go and wait to call upon the gauntlet another time. He had a lot of catching up to do on the road.


    With his wits once again with him, Mitakahn could easily divine the way back. He spent the time carefully examining his new piece of armor. It was so fascinating¡­ to say the least. He could not tell if he was hallucinating but he had to admit to himself that the gauntlet was changing colors between shades of silver, like a moving reflection. There was no metal in the sciences of man that changed fluidly from the charcoal of ore to the white of ivory.


    It was a part of him now, held together by the very same magic holding the vast lands of MagnaThora together. Mitakahn closed his eyes and imagined a connection between him and MagnaThora. There was no noise, but when he opened his eyes, the gauntlet had formed around his hand without any contact with his sword. As soon as his foot crossed the threshold back onto the Epitaph Road, Mitakahn knocked into someone. The gauntlet retreated into his wrist and Chronis screeched.


    ¡°Sudden hell!¡±


    ¡°My sincerest apolog-¡± Mitakahn stopped mid-sentence. He could not believe his eyes. He had just brushed shoulders with the last person in the world he would expect to see out here.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been through the Nethers, cousin.¡±

 Chapter 35: Enter Anilithion

    CHAPTER 35 ¨C ENTER ANILITHION


    ¡°Father sent me after you.¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s heart skipped a beat. The prospect of an overturned exile passed through his mind for a brief moment. Sadly, he knew that could not be the reason for his cousin¡¯s sudden arrival. Whatever the reason may be it will most likely be equally as impactful. Therefore, he had to ask.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Word from the northern reaches¡­ Attack on Castle Rosi Island. Father tasked me with telling you exactly this¡­ The Ignaleos Cor activated and consumed the entire island. There has been no sign of a single member of House Casterosi and no evidence of an outside threat.¡±


    ¡°What could it mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Anilithion. ¡°Father said it did not mean you could come back. I asked him.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for that.¡±


    ¡°He told me you would have a plan.¡±


    A plan? A month ago, Mitakahn would have turned around right then and there and made haste to House Casterosi to see for himself. But, here he was, as far away as he had ever been, out on the fringes of society, and he still felt like he was here for a reason. Mitakahn was onto something.


    ¡°My plans are my own. Cipher and Lord Mercinestor can take care of themselves. I must press on.¡±


    After everything he had been through, Mitakahn¡¯s resolve was now ironclad. Part of him felt obligated to give his cousin an answer. Strangely enough, it was an honor that he came all of this way to get his advice. He had to give him something in return.


    ¡°Tell Anilithy¨¬stad that my gut tells me Governor Demeter is somehow to blame. House Casterosi represents the high houses still loyal to the crown and if they can be silenced then it makes his plot to destabilize all the more easier.¡±


    ¡°I am not going back,¡± said Anilithion.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to help you on your quest.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect cousin, you were not exiled. Why should you suffer the same fate?¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn it was not my choice to be here, but to be honest with you, if it were, I would have been with you since the gates of Zepathorum,¡± admitted Anilithion. ¡°Plus, if I get a couple quests under my belt father will stop calling me a colt warrior. Is this the bird you told me about?¡±


    Mitakahn held back a laugh. ¡°Yes, he is.¡± He felt his knee give a little bit and decided that was enough walking today. Perhaps it was the feeling he got from his loyal kin finally arriving to his aid. Either way, it was time to set up camp. They walked out a safe distance from the road and found the side of a cliff covered in woods. Anilithion started a fire.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    He rubbed his wrist. ¡°I¡¯ve been through a lot since Zepathorum.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you¡­what happened to all of your gear?¡±


    ¡°Taken by thieves.¡±


    ¡°Father was right, you should have taken a company with you or at least a trusty mount. Are you hungry? What am I saying¡­of course you are!¡±


    Anilithion took out a ration of loaf bread. He blessed the whole loaf before tearing a generous piece off, ¡°Epitome of grace,¡± and handed it to Mitakahn who consumed it in quick bites. Anilithion did not stop there, he followed the bread up with aged loin jerky for energy and his water canteen.


    ¡°Do you know why you say that?¡± he asked his cousin.


    ¡°Epitome of grace?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°My dad says it. Its religious, stallion orthodoxy, the god Epitome who graced the horses of Metuchen.¡±


    ¡°He was the first king of the gods.¡±


    ¡°Imagine that.¡±


    ¡°His brother Apophas had no business being king and yet he was stuck with the throne. I used to think a lot about what I would do in that situation, but I guess he¡¯s lucky he had other brothers and sisters.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°When the queen of the gods didn¡¯t return to endorse his coronation the rest of his siblings followed her to MagnaThora, save Quarrel.¡±


    ¡°Epiphany stayed back to search for the heart of gold. My mother is obsessed with the old gods.¡±


    ¡°I can hear it in your voice. You are starting to sound more like yourself. You must be getting better.¡±


    Mitakahn felt a refreshing blast of new life wash over him with the digestion of his meal. He explained everything to Anilithion. He even admitted to thinking he could bring Theomitus back and subsequently letting the jar of the king¡¯s dying breath get destroyed. He even confessed to not knowing how long it had been since his exile.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°It¡¯s not over, Mitakahn. If you can find out who wrote the message to capture his dying breath you can ask them what it was intended for.¡±


    ¡°There is no way of knowing where to even start such an investigation.¡±


    ¡°I am not saying launch an investigation. I¡¯m just saying keep your eyes open to potential candidates revealing themselves in plain sight.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your wisdom, cousin.¡±


    Anilithion put his hand on his cousin¡¯s shoulder. He could see the physical toll everything had taken on Mitakahn. The poor prince was reduced to nothing. His manner was severe, and he periodically kept looking over his shoulder, checking his blind spots.


    ¡°After we get you back to full strength, what is the plan?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m stronger than I¡¯ve ever been. Behold!¡±


    Mitakahn drew his sword and the silver gauntlet unfolded across his wrist and palm to his fingers. He raised his sword up so his cousin could have a good look. Mitakahn concentrated on the feeling of the gauntlet around his left hand, the cold burning metal pressing against his skin. He took the sword with his right hand and maintained the gauntlet on its own. He let Anilithion examine the gauntlet up close, showing off his full hand and finger dexterity while wearing the metal glove.


    ¡°This is a work of art.¡±


    Mitakahn started to think about the forger that made it for him and where she could be right now. As his attention started to slip the gauntlet retracted back into his wrist scars. Anilithion jumped back.


    ¡°How did it do that?¡±


    ¡°If I told you the truth you would think I was crazy.¡±


    ¡°I already think you¡¯re crazy, cousin. You can be honest with me.¡±


    Mitakahn laughed and told him about the healing storm and the dragon rider. Finally, they were all caught up. Now, together, the two cousins would go in search of Excelsior and the libraries of Epitaph City. There, Mitakahn and Anilithion would get some answers about the Carbon Terra and where to attain the mystical FireSword from his dreams. Hopefully, they could do all of this before any harm came upon Mitakahn¡¯s kingdom.


    ¡°But¡± Anilithion asked a very integral question, ¡°let¡¯s say we accomplish all of this¡­how do we get back into the kingdom if you are still banned?¡±


    ¡°There are a few options, now that I think about it,¡± Mitakahn explained, ¡°perhaps by then either the country will be in so much turmoil that they will welcome me back with open arms or I¡¯ll gain entry by mere possession of the ancient artifact. If not, you will just have to go in alone. But it is not good to try and predict the future, this much I have learned. Trust me when I say¡­forced foresight only leads you to bad places.¡±


    ¡°You are right, cousin. So let us just worry about the present.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And it is getting late, so let the present be sleep. Goodnight good friend and thank you for coming.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn¡­¡± Anilithion beckoned, ¡°Have you considered returning to the mountains for Axion¡¯s help?¡±


    ¡°He turned his back on me when he chose a girl over his own family. Whatever I have to do to save my kingdom, I don¡¯t need Axion¡¯s help anymore¡­¡±


    ¡°Fair enough¡­goodnight cousin¡­¡±


    Mitakahn closed his eyes and a couple of moments later opened them back up after hearing the rustle of Chronis¡¯ wings. The silver-tailed hawk approached Mitakahn and clearly looked bothered by something. He twitched his hind feathers as he trotted over. Anilithion sat up with Mitakahn as they observed the peculiar bird.


    Chronis struck his tail feathers with his wings and a complex sound unlike any other they had ever heard sailed through the air into their ears, altering their perception. The bird called out to them, and they could both hear his voice. Aside from their original meeting this felt like the first time Mitakahn was properly communicating with the mystical bird, with Anilithion along for the ride.


    Cawww!


    Cawww oooo!


    Chronis called out, twisting his vocal chords, ¡°you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Did he just speak?¡±


    The bird screeched out as if it took tremendous strength to rein in his cries.


    Eeeeeee!


    ¡°¡­need¡­¡±


    Cawwww!


    ¡­your¡­¡±


    Then the magnificent silver accented bird stood tall and stretched out to show his full wingspan. He waved his wings and tickled the air with his feathers causing wave after wave of rhythmic undertones before conjuring up his final bellow.


    Rennnnn!


    ¡°¡­.friends.¡±


    Anilithion and Mitakahn looked at each other as if they had just solved a riddle. They said in unison, chanting the words back, ¡°You need your friends.¡±


    Chronis shook his head up and down. Anilithion nodded along with the bird. Mitakahn looked at the two of them speechless. He smiled and nodded his head with them. Anilithion laughed. Chronis took one last look at his human friends before he took off for the skies.


    They watched him climb through the air towards the stars. Anilithion laid back down while Mitakahn continued looking at the night sky. Every so often, he thought he could see the reflection of Chronis¡¯ silver in the distance.


    ¡°Even if he somehow knew who your friends were,¡± Anilithion put it to Mitakahn, ¡°How would he know where to find them?¡±


    ¡°Many mysteries surround that bird, all of which I am not prepared to dive into yet. So far, he has only been a force for good and has saved my life on more than one occasion. If he can rally the troops while we get in stride it might just save some time and with any luck save the kingdom. Let¡¯s just not count on it. The plan is still Towerock.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me. He is quite fascinating. I must say. I have never experienced anything like that.¡±


    ¡°I know it felt like my mind was lifted off of the ground.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he was getting us on his level.¡±


    It fell silent after that. Mitakahn prayed to the gods Anilithion would never find himself regretting those sentiments. With all that has happened already, there was little hope the rest of the way would be easy.


    Mitakahn felt as though he had just closed his eyes when the rising sun started to warm his face. It was morning. The dewbirds whistled and the blades of grass huddled drops of the morning current moisture. He opened his eyes to find that the fire had diminished to hot embers now. Mitakahn went to wake up Anilithion, but he was gone. When Mitakahn turned around to start on his cousin¡¯s trail, Anilithion was already returning to the camp with two kanja rabbits slung over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve caught breakfast,¡± he said.


    ¡°I can already see that you¡¯re going to be quite pleasant to have around, Ani,¡± remarked Mitakahn.


    Together the two cousins ate roasted rabbit. Just a half hour over the still burning charcoal and their meat was cooked well. Anilithion split most of his gear with Mitakahn, providing him with his own rations, a second set of clothes, a blanket, and a rain tarp. Mitakahn fashioned the tarp into a backpack. They packed up their gear, and started on their way, walking further east on the Epitaph Road. They had a long trip ahead of them.

 Chapter 36: The Beggars Gift

    CHAPTER 36 ¨C THE BEGGAR¡¯S GIFT


    On the road, Mitakahn and Anilithion crossed paths with a sorted cast of passersby. The first of which was a long bearded old fellow and his scraggly dog. Clearly, they were wanderers and part of the Canine Kingdom. To Mitakahn, they looked like the atypical pair of wanderers. If he was back at Zepathorum, in the hall of records, looking at a book defining the kingdoms, Mitakahn firmly believed this image would be on the title page for the Canine Kingdom, the wanderer and his companion.


    Another passerby was a very big, robust man, wearing dark fur and taking massive, heavy steps on the road. Anilithion covered brief glances at the stress fractures that the large man left on the stone after he passed. If Mitakahn were to guess what kingdom he hailed from, he would most certainly guess the Bear Kingdom; for he could have been Humbler¡¯s brother; they looked so much alike.


    When the sun was halfway across the sky, Mitakahn and Anilithion decided to have a quick meal while walking. Mitakahn rustled through his bag looking for something to eat. ¡°We still have this.¡± He pulled out the bread he took from just yesterday and handed it to Anilithion. He also took out some dried fruits.


    They came across a beggar on the side of the road. He was keeled over and pulled at the robes of the men walking ahead of them. Mitakahn could not help but feel sorry for the man. As they passed, the man beseeched them.


    ¡°Could you spare some food? Please, I beg of you.¡±


    Without hesitation, Anilithion tore him off a chunk of bread, ¡°Epitome of grace.¡±


    The peculiar stranger devoured the bread. He ate it as if it had come fresh out of the baking kiln. He truly appreciated it and Mitakahn recognized the familiar feeling. When there is nothing in this world except yourself and nourishment. The beggar spared no time consuming the bread and spared not a single crumb for the ground.


    ¡°Thank you, I am Descallion,¡± he replied.


    The cousins introduced themselves by alternate identities, careful not to let on that they were both princes. Anilithion introduced the two, ¡°I am Rosin, and this is Amkor.¡±


    Mitakahn followed him up with, ¡°We hail from a small town in the Burning Mountains,¡± as he pointed to the same general area that he found Chronis.


    ¡°Blessed be that humble small town by the old gods and the new. You would be shocked to hear how many people walked by me before you. I owe you my life. I wish there was some way I could repay you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about it,¡± relieved Anilithion. ¡°That bread was not exactly prime.¡±


    ¡°No, I insist,¡± said Descallion as he went through his bag looking for something. Anilithion looked over at Mitakahn and stifled some giddy laughter before refocusing on the grab bag. For a while, he searched, but after losing all earnestness, he gave up. He stared up into the air above Mitakahn and Anilithion still sitting down and eating, his peculiar nature beginning to surface. ¡°Oh! I know!¡± He twisted himself around, unstrapped his cloak, folded it sloppily, and handed it over to Anilithion. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Anilithion hesitated, ¡°I have my own cloak.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t understand,¡± Descallion held out for them to see, ¡°this is no ordinary cloak. It is a magical cloak. You must take it, or I will consider it an insult!¡±


    They took a good look at it, a standard brown cloak with patches, no frills, or pockets. The only identifiable quality was the hole next to the bottom right corner. At closer look, it could not even be confirmed that the cloak was actually brown and not just severely dirty.


    Anilithion whispered to Mitakahn, ¡°I feel like I can smell it.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Mitakahn tried to hide his laughter, ¡°I don¡¯t think you have a choice, cousin.¡±


    Anilithion took it from the crazy beggar. He just stared back at Anilithion with this awkward smile, as if he expected something in return. And then in a moment of pure bewilderment Mitakahn watched his cousin give the beggar his own royal Metuchen cloak, made of the finest brown shorlin threads. Descallion thanked Anilithion and just like that he was out of their lives forever.


    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°What!? You practically told me to!¡±


    Mitakahn busted out laughing, almost keeling over, holding his sides.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think he was going to leave us alone unless I did something. My cloak!¡± he cried.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ani. I admit that it got out of hand. I was only teasing. But you do have a kingly way with people.¡±


    Anilithion threw the strange cloak over his shoulder. Their next stretch of walking was not over until sundown. This time they quickly set up camp and built a fire. Like clockwork, they had their shelter erected, fire started, and dinner served in record time.


    The days went on like this for some time. After three days of uneventful walking and camping, Mitakahn and Anilithion were once again getting ready for another night¡¯s sleep. Mitakahn prepared the fire. He cracked the flint with his knife and the spark landed on the gragnyre fleece, lighting the fire. Before they set out for another hunt, Mitakahn caught Anilithion staring at the ragged cloak. He was holding the patchy cape in his hands deep in thought. And then, to Mitakahn¡¯s utter surprise, Anilithion threw the cloak into the fire.


    ¡°What are you doing!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not wearing that thing. I can just pick a new one up the next time we cross paths with a merchant.¡±


    Mitakahn could not argue with his cousin¡¯s logic, only something odd was occurring in the fire.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± remarked Anilithion, ¡°It¡¯s been in the fire for more than enough time. Why doesn¡¯t it burn?¡±


    They both looked at the beggar¡¯s cloak in the fire. It sat in the center of the flames, unscathed. Mitakahn summoned his gauntlet and removed the cloak from the fire. It was stone-cold.


    ¡°It appears to be fireproof.¡±


    ¡°This is unbelievable,¡± confessed Anilithion as he went to test its unnatural power himself. He wrapped it around his hand. After it was securely wrapped, he stuck his cloak-covered hand in the fire and pulled out a log completely covered in fame. It was fireproof. ¡°Do you think he knew that it possessed such a special property?¡± asked Anilithion.


    ¡°He did say it was magic,¡± Mitakahn ironically jested.


    They looked in amazement at the new gift Anilithion had acquired.


    They talked for a while beside the fire. Mostly, they talked about the weirdness in the world lately. ¡°We should be coming up on Towerock tomorrow¡­or soon. I mean¡­it¡¯s not like we¡¯re lost,¡± thought Mitakahn out loud.


    ¡°Of course not, there is only one way to go, east. And that is,¡± Anilithion pointed down the road, ¡°that way until we come up on Towerock. What is it like?¡±


    ¡°Towerock is the ancient ruins of the canine kingdom¡¯s capital. Although, it¡¯s been such a long time since its fall that even in death it still lives.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t spent much time with the wanderer race have you? My friend Excelsior spared little detail in the history of his people. They are a nomadic people, so their cities are built in flux.¡±


    ¡°Flux?¡±


    ¡°Towerock and Epitaph City are more like assemblies than cities. No one house takes up permanent residence or declares ownership over property. It¡¯s actually extremely fascinating.¡±


    ¡°So, they just share the cities?¡±


    Mitakahn smiled back at Anilithion putting it together. ¡°They share the cities.¡±


    ¡°Seems like a waste of time when you can just go to Crucifire Plains.¡±


    ¡°Well, you are explaining exactly what the modern world has brought the canine kingdom to. When their line of kings ended their people never stopped migrating. Most of which went to the largest city on earth. Now Towerock and Epitaph City are flourishing with history and deprived of activity, which makes them the perfect places for my mission.¡±

 Chapter 37: The Vanagoji

    CHAPTER 37 ¨C THE VANAGOJI


    The conversation will always lead to one inevitable topic. Mitakahn had come to realize this at an early age, all evidence to his waistline. For some obvious reasons, his time on the road had reminded him of the ultimate drive of man.


    ¡°How are we on food?¡± checked Anilithion.


    ¡°Not good, we are going to have to start hunting more. The loaf is gone, and we have been out of fruit and meat for days.¡±


    ¡°We should go hunting tonight.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea,¡± reflected Mitakahn, ¡°I¡¯ve actually got some spare energy.¡±


    The two cousins rounded up their gear. Anilithion equipped his quiver filled with arrows and picked up his bow. Mitakahn securely tucked his father¡¯s hunting knife into his belt and took his sword just in case. The two warrior princes were ready to hunt. They walked from their camp trying to find a good spot to post.


    ¡°What¡¯re the odds?¡± retorted Mitakahn as they came upon a single tree standing in a surrounding field of tall grass. They helped each other up the tallwood tree and sat on its thick branches. Now all they had to do was wait for something to come their way.


    This was the kind of thing that could take all night. Sometimes the hunt was really just the luck of the wild. They made sure they were upwind. That way their scent would not deter any potential prey. Out of sight and out of smell were good starts, but they were in a foreign land and were not familiar with the migration patterns of the wildlife in the meadows east of the lion kingdom.


    Who knew how far they had to get away from the road before they could find evidence of wild animals that they could hunt? Mitakahn could not help but wish he had already met up with Excelsior. Not only was this prime wanderer territory, but even if they were both out of their comfort zones if they were on the fringe of society Excelsior would still be able to track game.


    The academy taught Mitakahn to hunt anywhere, but it could not give him the tracking trait inherent to every member of the canine kingdom. They didn¡¯t have anything to bait with, so their only tool was time. Hopefully, over the course of the night, an oblivious animal will cross their path. Mitakahn waited for something not too big to take down and not too quick to get away, no easy feat. The odds of them finding something with the right prerequisites on their first attempt at hunting was highly unlikely. They would probably end up spending most of the night talking softly as to not scare off any potential prey, and then giving up and falling asleep until morning.


    Luckily for Mitakahn, his cousin was one of the best entertainers he knew. Anilithion always had something to talk about and often made Mitakahn laugh. Right now, the topic was how his younger brother Mortikahn would always reach for the hearth-fire as a baby, no matter how many times their father Anilithy¨¬stad would yell at him. Anilithion learned early that he would have to look out for his younger brother and make sure he didn¡¯t play with fire.


    As they got older the meaning behind the phrase playing with fire became different things, these days, more often than not it meant courting women. That was the moral of Anilithion¡¯s quiet conversation. Girls are dangerous and his brother had a generous appetite. They managed to keep their voices low, aside from when Anilithion got worked up. Anilithion talked about his brother a lot. Mitakahn could tell that they were closer than he was with Axion. It didn¡¯t bother him much because he knew it was mostly due to the age difference. Mitakahn¡¯s parents waited far longer to have their second born than Anilithy¨¬stad and his wife Ninabi did.


    They spent more time talking about Beach and Spike, a popular ball game from the Shorelands. Mitakahn spent plenty of time at Metuchen to develop a love for the game. He always fancied himself a competent spiker. Anilithion played the beacher position. The difference being the spiker scored all of the points. Mitakahn was only in it for the glory. A beacher had to keep the spikers from gaining ground and they were the backbone of the team.


    Beach and Spike was one of the harder MagnaThoran sports to learn because it was the only ball game played on horseback. There were no sports local to the lion kingdom, but there were several local Carrier champions, a big city stadium game played professionally in Crucifire Plains. The lion kingdom held true to the old ways. They participated in tournaments for jousting, archery, and dueling. It used to be fights to the death, but as society modernized the rules became much more¡­family friendly. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Anilithion was obsessed with Beach and Spike, but with Carrier he was very particular about who he rooted for. Mitakahn saw a lot of his father in him when Anilithion talked about sports. Anilithion lived in the moment and hung on every last word. Mitakahn always had a harder time focusing, his mind juggled several different perspectives. For example, his peripheral awareness enabled him to spot movement out in the wild night while Anilithion was talking.


    ¡°There!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I see something,¡± pointed out Mitakahn.


    Anilithion struggled to see what Mitakahn was looking at. Some distance away, on the top of a ridge, the grass parted.


    ¡°Mitakahn, I still don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°Sshhh!¡± quieted Mitakahn.


    Anilithion hurriedly fumbled his bow as he tried to get an arrow out of his quiver. His bow slipped out of his hands and Anilithion instinctively lunged for it. ¡°Mitakahn!¡± he screamed as he, himself, slipped out of the tree.


    Mitakahn snatched Anilithion¡¯s hand before he fell to the ground. Mitakahn shifted his weight to support Anilithion, now dangling from his hand. Mitakahn looked up and noticed the parting grass picking up pace and getting closer. Whatever it was¡­ it sprinted right for them. It must have heard them in the tree.


    ¡°Quickly, cousin, quickly!¡± hurried Anilithion as Mitakahn tried to lift him back up to the branch.


    Out from the grass came a vanagoji charging with fierce boney horns. Mitakahn put all his strength in one pull and lifted his cousin up just in time to miss the vanagoji¡¯s charging head-butt. It hit the tree and shook their grips loose, making Anilithion fall to the floor.


    The disoriented vanagoji did not notice Anilithion on the ground. Mitakahn laid there motionless. He did not know what to do. Anilithion hid on the ground, and took refuge in his cloak, which covered him from head to toe. The fat boneheaded beast sneezed and exploded. Or that is what it looked like to Mitakahn. Anilithion heard the explosion and tried his best not to squirm or call out in fear of being burned alive.


    In reality, its purple skin briefly ignited with flames during the sneeze, a weird organic chemical reaction of the beast when subject to exhaustion and sudden massive head trauma. The vanagoji caught its breath and resumed its siege on the tree. Mitakahn looked down at the aggressive beast. The vanagoji was twenty-five percent bone and seventy-five percent blubber, with a fat tail and four stumpy legs. Most of the bone was on its head save for brief spots leading down its spine. He could not see Anilithion anymore. As the tree trembled Mitakahn clung on and screamed out for his cousin.


    Little did he know that Anilithion was hiding on the floor right below Mitakahn. The cloak protected him. Now he blended in perfectly with the floor. Time after time, the vanagoji narrowly avoided stomping on Anilithion and never once noticed him. As the beast once again shook his head to gain his orientation back, Anilithion poked out his hand and waved to his cousin to reveal his position. Mitakahn saw him and registered yet another unique property of the cloak.


    ¡°Anilithion!¡±


    ¡°Hold on!¡± he yelled from the floor as he ducked under the cover of the cloak again in anticipation of another vanagoji sneeze. The ground exploded and then they continued.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to drop my hunting knife right beside you the next time the beast rams the tree!¡± informed Mitakahn.


    And sure enough, after the boneheaded beast hit the tree, it once again stumbled around, looking like it had gotten into a batch of hard cider. Mitakahn dropped the knife and Anilithion swiped it underneath the cloak without being seen.


    Kaboom!


    Anilithion took a deep breath. If the vanagoji came around for another charge, he knew its course would bring it directly over him. When the vanagoji crossed over him, he lifted himself up on his hands and knees, bumping into its purple belly, and threw the beast off balance. It tripped onto its side. Mitakahn swung himself down from the branch and jumped onto it, pinning it down. Anilithion slit the vanagoji¡¯s throat without a moment¡¯s hesitation. It writhed in pain for a minute or two and finally fell limp.


    ¡°Gods! The smell!¡±


    They choked on the sulfuric smell of the vanagoji¡¯s blood. Mitakahn went to pick up the beast, but Anilithion stopped him. ¡°It was my kill,¡± he excitedly stated, ¡°Allow me to carry it back to camp.¡±


    ¡°As you wish...¡±


    They returned to camp victorious to find everything exactly how they left it. Mitakahn took a big risk ignoring the fact that thieves could strike at any moment. This harsh truth still kept him awake at night. It is a good thing he was ready for any future conflict, thanks to Zora. They cooked the entire beast over the fire, except for the head that Anilithion decapitated while he cleaned it. Anilithion kept the horns as a memento of his accomplishment.


    ¡°You are obtaining treasures left and right,¡± complimented Mitakahn.


    That instantly sparked another conversation about the cloak and its powerful abilities. They thought about what else it could do. Both decided to separately think about experiments they could perform to uncover its entire arsenal of properties, as they both retired to bed after quite an eventful day.

 Chapter 38: Conversations in Passing

    CHAPTER 38 ¨C CONVERSATIONS IN PASSING


    The next morning, they rose from sleep at the same time, eager to get to Towerock. Skipping breakfast, they continued on the road, passing many faceless travelers. This stretch of the road they started to get noticed and stopped by onlookers who identified the two princes.


    Although he was finally starting to feel like his old self again, Mitakahn hoped that his celebrity status would not be an issue in his travels. For soon, word would spread of his exile, and he would become a social pariah. So, after another awkward identification of royalty, Mitakahn threw his hood on and pointed his head down, pinning his eyes to the floor. Once again, he found himself watching his feet pass over the withered bluish-gray stones.


    The rest of the day passed by relatively quietly. Unfortunately, they did not reach Towerock as expected and would have to set up camp once again without achieving their goal of turning south. The two cousins silently prepared for another night on the side of the road.


    Mitakahn put together the tent as Anilithion started the fire. It was now a routine for them. They felt very comfortable with each other and did not need to escape awkward silence with constant conversation. But a topic of interest was stirring inside Anilithion. He was very thoughtful and always had others in mind. Right now, Anilithion was thinking about his aunt; Mitakahn¡¯s mother. Poor Ady¨¢na was still stirring in her loneliness and depression, now all alone at home without her two boys.


    ¡°Do you think your mother is going to be okay?¡± he asked.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t seem too upset by my¡­ departure. I think it¡¯s because she is still dealing with my father¡¯s death.¡±


    Anilithion knew Mitakahn had misunderstood his question but realized that his answer had inadvertently led into Anilithion¡¯s quandary. He deemed it unnecessary to correct him.


    ¡°She¡¯s taking it very hard,¡± continued Anilithion.


    ¡°¡­Hardest of all. You have to understand¡­It wasn¡¯t just her husband that died. It was her life. With Axion and me¡­ we still have the bulk of our lives ahead of us. Axion is proof, by finding Euphrati, that we have the potential to get over the loss. But not my mother, she feels that all the meaning and significance in her life has been taken from her. And from now on she will live a life devoid of true happiness because that¡­ is what she thinks my father¡¯s death deserves.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t fully understand, Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°What I mean is¡­Ady¨¢na doesn¡¯t want her life to get better. She doesn¡¯t want to stop crying or grieving. To her, if she did¡­ it would be disrespectful to my father¡¯s memory. By not making her life any better¡­it is a sort of testament to how much my father meant to us- I mean her. She will go on suffering to remind herself of the impact that King Theomitus had on her.¡±


    ¡°For how long?¡± pained Anilithion.


    ¡°Until her time is up, and she can rejoin him in the After Light.¡±


    They both stared into the fire rather than look at each other. Without being able to control it, the night had taken a negative tone. The dark of the night was thick. Mitakahn suffered under a familiar feeling which was shooting a cold shiver down his spine. The darkness seemed to be collecting around them. Mitakahn could not quite pin the feeling. His eyes remained on the fire. The conversation had dissolved into the lurking night.


    ¡°Well, you could look at it this way,¡± Anilithion continued after a long pause, ¡°Aunt Ady¨¢na was so fulfilled by her union with your dad that even in death she knows no other relationship will ever be as strong, so there is no reason to move on. She lived in the time of the love of her life.¡±


    ¡°That is a good way to think about it. Very poignantly put, Anilithion.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°When it comes to my own personal problems I forget there are always two ways of looking at things.¡±


    ¡°We can all try our best to remember that in rough times.¡±


    ¡°My only problem is my mind doesn¡¯t just stop at two.¡±


    ¡°Forty ways to skin a cat¡±


    ¡°Pardon me?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a saying.¡±


    ¡°Not where I come from.¡±


    They both awkwardly looked at each other as if about to draw swords and then broke into ridiculous laughter. The hour grew late, and they spent another night under the stars. Mitakahn stayed awake as Anilithion snored beside him. Unable to sleep he prayed to the stars where the gods held court, hoping something would come of tomorrow.

 Chapter 39: Towerock

    CHAPTER 39 ¨C TOWEROCK


    Not even more than halfway through the day they saw the city in the distance. From this far away, it resembled one massive castle. As they got closer, the intricacies spread out into a city. That is the way it was with the ancient founder cities like Towerock and Castle Ark. It took them the rest of the day to reach the ruins of Towerock and passage south, but they were finally here. Approaching the city limits, they did not see many people. In fact, there were few lights from any campfires.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I am going to find any answers here.¡±


    ¡°You made it sound like a bustling city.¡±


    ¡°I must have been mistaken.¡±


    ¡°What could we possibly find here?¡±


    As they turned the corner, they saw Excelsior kneeling down beside his faithful canine, Orion, and Bridger fondling his mandolin, blatantly expecting Mitakahn and Anilithion¡¯s arrival.


    ¡°My Gods! This is unbelievable!¡± yelled Mitakahn as he ran over to them, ¡°You have no idea how good it is to see you three.¡±


    ¡°You too, brother,¡± replied Bridger.


    There was only one other prince that attended the school, Bridger Callister, one of Mitakahn¡¯s closest friends. Bridger stood just as tall as Mitakahn, yet his nimble build, combined with his clear blue crystal eyes made his senses more acute and advanced than any of the other students. Bridger¡¯s father was ruler of the Stag Kingdom, a kin known for their adept prowess and divine gifts of long life.


    ¡°How was the road here?¡± greeted Excelsior with a question.


    ¡°Forgiving. I assume you both heard what happened to me.¡±


    Bridger nodded his head sympathetically.


    ¡°You should have let me deal with those bureaucratic sycophants.¡±


    Mitakahn moved the conversation forward with a question, ¡°How did you know we would be here?¡±


    Cawww!


    Chronis swooped down from the battlements. The silver-tailed hawk hovered before Mitakahn and then landed on his shoulder.


    ¡°That marvelous bird of yours,¡± answered Excelsior.


    ¡°Oh, so you have met Chronis,¡± said Anilithion as he shook Excelsior and Bridger¡¯s hands and greeted Orion with a cordial bow. The noble dog bowed back, but really just gave himself a disguised stretch.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe he found you,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°Not just that, but when he met up with Bridger and I, he flew in from the south. There is no doubt in my mind that he went to round up the others before us,¡± furthered Excelsior, ¡°they will most likely meet us further down the road.¡±


    ¡°How does it even know who we are, Mitakahn? I have never seen anything like this before,¡± said Bridger.


    ¡°None of us have,¡± said Anilithion, ¡°Mitakahn, this bird is truly extra-ordinary.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it!¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°I would not be so na?ve as to blame chance for bringing this bird to you,¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°No, there has to be more at play here,¡± Bridger rubbed his chin, and began deliberating with Excelsior, ¡°This is divine intervention, no doubt. There is no other rational explanation.¡±


    Meanwhile, Chronis had flown off of Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder landing right in front of Orion; and the four men watched as Chronis and Orion interacted with each other, a giant dog greeting a tiny shiny hawk. The confrontation was anything but hostile, it was more curious. Orion bowed his brown furry head low to sniff the peculiar bird, and Chronis hopped around in short spurts examining Orion. The four onlookers could not help but smile and laugh at this adorable encounter. Chronis let Orion sniff the top of his head.


    They quickly settled down around the fire to get some rest before starting their journey south in the morning. Bridger played his mandolin quietly, giving the flames a story.


    ¡°Of all the things to take with you on this quest, you brought your mando.¡±


    ¡°To not bring my music would be to not bring a part of me. Plus, you never know when a mandolin might come in handy.¡±


    ¡°Prince Bridger is known for his musical talents throughout the Woodlands,¡± said Excelsior.


    They laughed as Bridger sang his retort, ¡°With this mandolin I can strike a chord, with the same precision I wield my sword.¡±


    Bridger brought the melody low and slow. He was gesturing for someone to sing or entertain. Anilithion looked around. He seemed to recognize that he needed to do something. He saw Bridger¡¯s prompt but struggled with the context. ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered¡­why do they call it the Epitaph Road?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Mitakahn smiled. Excelsior stood up from his relaxd position leaning on Orion¡¯s leg. He nodded his head at Bridger who reset the harmony in a more upbeat tone. ¡°Let me tell you about one of the oldest wonders of the world by going all the way back, even past my ancestors who built it.¡±


    The Legend of Raphael and Ranosaur


    Gods are seldom tasked with easy decisions. They could no longer interfere with the fate of man, so they left MagnaThora. They knew they could not leave the human race entirely to their own devices. In one of his last acts as rulers, the gods created the demigods; a Phoenix to rule the mountains and skies, a Sea Lion and Sea Serpent to rule the vast ocean deep, and a Wolfe to rule everything in between.


    It was no surprise that the first community of humanity to develop was the tribe around the great Grey Wolfe. Members of the original Wolf Tribe, when putting their faith to prayers, could unleash their inner wolf, over-developing their senses and abilities and in some cases even shapeshifting into wolfmen. There was a problem, not all of the followers could feel these godly effects. The Grey Wolfe was cultivating too large of a following.


    The demigod gathered his tribe and howled before the moon. Clouds parted and split, dividing the moonlight. Amongst the hundreds of people two were selected, two brothers. Ranosaur and Raphael walked with the Grey Wolfe. He told them of the godsplan and their roles. Their faith was strong. He gave them both separate surnames: Ranosaur Towerock and Raphael Highcastle; and lordships over the Wolfe¡¯s tribe, splitting it in two. All those who could unleash their inner wolf would remain in the forest with Raphael, for the others was a miracle that would last forever.


    A slice of the Wolfe¡¯s divinity sacrificed to bestow an eternal gift. The day they left the forest Ranosaur woke up thinking it was all a dream, evidence of otherwise snuggled up next to him. The brown and white furs on the bed camouflaged the pup at first. Ranosaur picked him up and cradled the furry lad. He was not alone, from that morning on, every member of the Canine Tribe would be born with a puppy to grow up with and become lifelong companions. The canines flowed with the wolf god¡¯s blood making their lifespan seven times the span of a normal dog, extraordinarily inept to their companion¡¯s instincts, and so big they could rival horses as mounts.


    Ranosaur took his tribe, now paired with their canine partners, and journeyed west. Upon the roaming fields of the great MagnaThoran western frontier Ranosaur found true significance along with his people. Something about being with the dogs unleashed a primal need to be nomadic. It took a long time before roots were put down and Towerock was founded, but that did not make the canine tribe any less prominent than their brothers in the forest. When the time finally came to rally for war their rolling cavalry was second to none.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    Excelsior continued, ¡°As everybody in the world knows the Wolf Kingdom was destroyed by the back-wrath of an ancient covenant. Their brother kingdom built the Epitaph Road in effigy to their fallen kin. The road connected the world of MagnaThora just as the Crucifire King did. You may hear old wanderers call it the king¡¯s road.¡±


    Anilithion shook his head in agreement. He had heard the legend of the first houses many times before, but he never knew how deeply they connected to today. Then Excelsior told them something they did not know.


    ¡°Since its creation, the Epitaph Road served not only as the path between kingdoms but also their oldest form of communication. The gray stone of the road is actually quite malleable. It is better on your feet, allows you to walk longer, and you can carve into it. Most of the messages are anonymous because how could any recipients know where to look?¡±


    ¡°They could tell where the message is the next time they cross paths,¡± answered Anilithion.


    ¡°Well then he would just give him the message right there.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow, I guess you are right about that.¡±


    ¡°It could be a secret message they could not speak in public,¡± Mitakahn retorted for Anilithion. His younger cousin did not possess the experience as he did for these micro-debates.


    Excelsior had no problem bringing it right back around, ¡°That would fall under the aforementioned anonymous category.¡±


    It might have been a technicality, but his friends mastered that art amongst many at the academy. The art of the technicality, Mitakahn always thought he could rise above it during their friendly conversational duels and more often than not was proven wrong. Mitakahn was willing to let this one go since Excelsior was kind enough to entertain them with his storytelling. After all, he was doing such a great job. It got later into the night and Bridger had put the mandolin away as things quieted down.


    ¡°Mitakahn, may I be forthcoming with you?¡± Bridger insisted.


    ¡°By all means, my friend.¡±


    ¡°This is going to be good,¡± Excelsior mumbled.


    ¡°I feel as though you are tracking down the wrong lead. We should not be focused on what you saw in a vision. We should be focused on what killed Theomitus. If no one ever knows what it was then what will stop it from happening again?¡±


    ¡°Paradoxia¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Trust me when I say I feel like that all the time. Even though I have already forgotten a lot of what transpired in his final days, one thing I will never forget is the lack of answers. We spent months talking to all kinds of healers, mediciners, and anyone with any hint of a possible cure however unlikely. My parents¡¯ chambers reeked of toadroot tea because some old grandmothers¡¯ tale said it fought against disease.¡±


    ¡°I trust you.¡±


    ¡°We exhausted all of our options and there was still time left to watch him wither away.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mitakahn. I didn¡¯t mean to upset you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s important you all know this. Things got desperate in the family. I saw sides of my mother and brother that I want to forget. There were harsh truths dealt to me. I tried¡­I¡­there was one time I tried to talk to him about what we should do when he was gone.¡±


    ¡°He did not say much. I was barely able to say the words out-loud. Who can be strong enough to admit their own death? It was humiliation at its worst. He said he wanted Axion to find happiness and he wanted me to finish the academy. By that time his mind was almost completely lost, or else he would know that can never be an option.¡±


    Bridger exchanged glances with Excelsior.


    ¡°There were never any leads to track down from the illness. Here I have something. Echo gave us Demascus and Excelsior already knows the contact.¡±


    ¡°He was a close mentor of mine.¡±


    ¡°There is a thread here. I just can¡¯t see it without all of the pieces.¡±


    ¡°And you think that one of those pieces is the Carbon Terra?¡±


    ¡°All I know is it¡¯s a diamond amongst a collection of gems called the Incapsulate Impernum. If we find the diamond it might point us in the direction of the sword.¡±


    ¡°And the Crucifire Sword will save your kingdom from certain doom.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a start.¡±


    ¡°As crazy as this sounds, we are with you Mitakahn.¡±


    ¡°Good because if I found out anything in my recent travels, it¡¯s that I am going to need all the help I can get.¡±

 Chapter 40: Advanced Lessons in Hunting

    CHAPTER 40 ¨C ADVANCED LESSONS IN HUNTING


    They traveled for some time after that along the road south. Days that went by without much event were merely accounted for and never embellished upon. The road was traveled, meals were shared, camps were erected and taken down with all sorts of conversations throughout. As this particular day came to an end, they had to find camp for the night. With four men, setting up camp became much easier. They found themselves spending more time around the campfire, catching up with each other.


    ¡°I still find it hard to believe, Mitakahn,¡± said Bridger, ¡°You¡¯re telling me a dragon rider healed your broken wrist with the flames from her dragon?¡±


    ¡°We learned about the ancient dragon kingdom forgesmiths at school.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And she gave you a gauntlet that puts itself on and takes itself off?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget, it hides in his scars too!¡± Anilithion added.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, it remains unseen.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I get it, I know what this is all about, my friend.¡± Mitakahn smiled and stood up. ¡°You all want to see it.¡±


    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± said Bridger.


    Mitakahn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would use this as an opportunity to practice activating the gauntlet without involving his sword. He did it once before. He had to clear his mind. Don¡¯t think about the gauntlet opening itself up. Mitakahn focused on his hand and what it felt like with the gauntlet on. The best way to put it was a slight icy numbness, crisp without being cold. He knew the feeling and wanted to get more familiar with it.


    Mitakahn opened his eyes, and his left hand was covered in silver metal. He hadn¡¯t even heard it this time. His friends marveled silently at it. He brandished the design, reflecting the raging fire light off of the gauntlet¡¯s silvery lines. He formed a fist with his metal fingers and then stretched them out straight, showing off the metal¡¯s pliability.


    ¡°Wow, that is versatile, Mitakahn. I must say.¡±


    ¡°Every warrior should be so lucky to have a gauntlet like that on the battlefield.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the silvery metal can bend in places normal metal can¡¯t, but what can it withstand?¡±


    ¡°Ah, it appears that a demonstration is in order. Anilithion, if you would be so kind.¡±


    Anilithion stood up and drew his sword. Mitakahn braced himself and nodded to his cousin, giving him the go ahead to strike. Anilithion brought his sword over his head with both hands, right down on Mitakahn. He didn¡¯t hold back at all. Mitakahn stood firm. He left foot pointed at his attacker. He caught Anilithion¡¯s sword strike. His gauntleted hand holding the edge of Anilithion¡¯s sword. Mitakahn threw the sword back and his cousin along with it. He waved to Excelsior and Bridger, palm out. Not a scratch was on the silver gauntlet.


    ¡°Remarkable.¡±


    ¡°I must say Mitakahn, that is some piece of armor.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Bridger.¡±


    ¡°The fire.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How does the magical gauntlet hold up against fire?¡±


    ¡°Probably with ease, from whence it came, and all that,¡± said Bridger.


    Mitakahn squatted down beside the fire. Not breaking eye contact with Excelsior, he slowly waved his hand through the fire. Bridger laughed and Anilithion gasped. Any normal person would have pulled their hand away from the fire after that with third degree burns. Mitakahn barely blinked. His gauntlet unscathed.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s too easy.¡±


    Excelsior took one of his swords out and used its point to shift a hot ember out of the fire. He balanced it on the flat side of his sword and lifted it out of the fire. Excelsior served the hot ember to Mitakahn.


    ¡°Oh, now we are talking.¡± Bridger said.


    Mitakahn looked at the ember, its red blaze reflecting through the ashy smudges on Excelsior¡¯s blade. He picked it up with his silver hand.


    Mitakahn held the ember in a closed fist. He looked from friend to friend as he held his left hand out in front of them. After a couple of moments, to Mitakahn¡¯s surprise, a heat crept in. The longer he held it the more it began to burn. When the heat turned to pain the gauntlet spasmed and reclined back into his silver scars, tossing the ember to the grass. Orion scampered over to the hot ember and smothered it with his massive paws.


    ¡°Interesting.¡±


    ¡°So, it¡¯s flame retardant, but not fireproof.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d think a gauntlet forged in fire would be fireproof.¡±


    ¡°Well how could they mold it if the metal was fireproof?¡±


    ¡°Aha!¡±


    ¡°The metal is from Chronis, which means its properties must derive from his silver tail feathers.¡±


    ¡°Which means one of his weaknesses could be fire.¡±


    Mitakahn nodded as he stared at his hand. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a good thing we tried all this.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know your boundaries until you push them,¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°That¡¯s either a gem of wisdom or a good excuse to get drunk.¡±


    Excelsior smiled.


    ¡°What else can it do?¡±


    ¡°Well, I noticed it changes its shade of metal, based on what I am not sure of yet.¡±


    ¡°That could be another practical use for the gauntlet. Keep it up and that shield will turn out to be a better weapon or tool than any of us carry.¡±


    ¡°We should be looking more into that dragon rider,¡± Bridger pointed to the sky, ¡°and that bird.¡± He pointed at Chronis.


    Chronis turned and looked at Mitakahn, as if he was surprised the conversation found its way to him.


    ¡°You just want to recreate the armor.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we all be properly plated for what¡¯s to come?¡±


    ¡°Bridger raises a fair point.¡±


    ¡°If our lead fails in Epitaph maybe Chronis will show us the way, but as of right now, it looks like he also wants us heading south.¡±


    Mitakahn looked at Chronis who exchanged looks with him and every other member of the group. The bird looked oblivious, but it still went down the line, one at a time and looked at each of them, starting with Mitakahn, and then back again, ending with Mitakahn. He ruffled his feathers as if settling in and then plopped himself down for sleep, part of their circle around the fire. They all soon followed suit.


    Mitakahn woke up with the sunrise, unaware that he had fallen asleep. Chronis was by his side, tightly wrapped up in a bundle under his outstretched arm, fast asleep. Mitakahn peered at the sight. He had never really witnessed a bird sleeping before, not to mention one that felt comfortable in a human embrace. Something about it gave Mitakahn a sense of intimacy and love for the bird. The fact that Chronis trusted Mitakahn enough to sleep beside him was very inspiring. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Now that Chronis was back, Mitakahn felt a renewed sense of legitimacy. He could not rationally explain it. In fact, he could not explain Chronis at all. But everything about this journey they were on, revolved around the unexplainable and Chronis seemed to be a perfect incarnation of that faith in mystery.


    Chronis rested gleefully on Mitakahn¡¯s left shoulder. Every so often he would take off and fly above them in a wide circle. Mitakahn was getting better and better at interacting with the bird, and knew he was not leaving for an extended amount of time. He was just patrolling, scouting ahead.


    After a while, Chronis tried trading his seat on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulders for a ride on Orion¡¯s back. It was a match made in the heavens. These two companions turned out to be instant friends and a great source of entertainment. Now making their way south, the group would soon come into the Inner Realm of kingdoms. This included Epitaph City closest of all, Compis Falls to the east, the Komodo Maze to the west, and Crucifire Plains further south.


    It was approaching dusk, and the time had come to, once again, set up camp. But this time, they had plenty of supplies and enough people to produce a proper campsite. Bridger, along with Anilithion, took Orion for a walk, and used his canine sense of smell to scout out a perimeter. The two walked together as Orion trotted ahead on a scent. Bridger was a cunning hunter and skilled warrior.


    The lords of the Stag Kingdom were among the physical elite of humanity. They could run across the floor as light as a whisper; their feet able to walk along the earth with the highest sensitivity akin to a touch as soft as a feather. Quick and silent, they moved without a trace. And yet, they were as strong and resilient as a mighty elk. Keen trackers, their heightened senses rivaled that of animal abilities like Orion¡¯s. The kingdom believed that peak physical prowess and keen acute senses were the gifts of the Stag gods; ancient elk, moose, and caribou that once roamed their forest, before the dawn of man. Bridger always remembered the cold truth, the unbridled history of his people.


    Anilithion walked with the two as he studied the practice of a perfect scouting operation. Bridger held back and made sure there were no tracks coming from any possible threats; as Orion ran ahead and followed any hint of a trail, running them out until all aspects of a chance were disqualified. They moved fluently without missing a beat. Anilithion did his best to keep up. Bridger crouched to the floor and examined an imprint on the ground in the dirt.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± asked Anilithion.


    Those words wandered off as though unheard by Bridger, his concentration remained firmly attached to whatever story that piece of earth was telling. Orion returned from his most recent loop and joined Bridger in his queries. The dog quickly picked up the trail and took off over the ridge. Bridger and Anilithion sprinted to keep up after Orion. They got over the hill and watched the dust slowly fall back to the ground after being kicked up by Orion¡¯s haste.


    ¡°He has run out of sight. We should go back and get Excelsior.¡±


    ¡°Do not fret, Anilithion. I still have his trail and I know what he hunts.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    But before Bridger could answer, a yelp broke the night¡¯s silence, one that could only belong to Orion. The two warriors fixated upon the area of the scream.


    ¡°Quickly!¡± Bridger yelled out as he ran into the falling dirt. Anilithion watched his companion dive into the darkness and after a moment¡¯s hesitation made pace behind Bridger.


    Meanwhile, Excelsior and Mitakahn finished setting up the camp and went looking around for firewood, night now in full effect. Mitakahn walked back out onto the Epitaph Road and peered out into the distance. He stared at the road ahead and the unknown south. This is the furthest south he had ever traveled without his father. He could not help but be constantly reminded of his father.


    He could never fully appreciate his love for his father until it was all taken away from him. It made him feel like there was something missing from the prince¡¯s heart. And in that void sprouted a darkness Mitakahn had never felt before. It was what the berserker preyed on. He grew weak, his awareness of the intruding force was hardly apparent, disguised in his head as the looming threat represented in his dreams. Mitakahn could not clearly identify what plagued him. Staring out onto the road his sight grew dark. The horizon dimmed in his eyes, and he began to see the shadow gathering in the south.


    He felt like he was no longer looking through his eyes, but he was looking beyond his physical line of sight. He looked beyond the cities and the desert, beyond the mountains and the barren wastelands of the south. He saw dark sails being carried by the wicked winds north through the death trap of the Barren Sea. He saw a dark tone blanketing the night¡­rapidly spreading.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡±


    The prince woke up. But he was still standing on the road, and his eyes were open. Excelsior screamed out again, ¡°Mitakahn!¡± The prince turned towards Excelsior. ¡°It is not good to stare down the road at night. It quickly becomes a canvas for vivid imaginations.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting lost in my thoughts.¡±


    ¡°Thoughts about your father and the dreams?¡±


    ¡°Am I going crazy, Excelsior?¡±


    ¡°I think you were given a life that is by no means ordinary. So don¡¯t be avoidant of the possibility that the extraordinary is far from over.¡±


    ¡°And if I¡¯m ultimately making all this up, tricking even myself?¡±


    ¡°Then we take it from there. And perhaps think about reevaluating some things before our next adventure.¡±


    ¡°The first on that list being my sanity.¡±


    ¡°You are doing just fine, prince. Keep following your heart and reason will follow.¡±


    ¡°Reason used to be a lot easier for me.¡±


    ¡°It only gets harder. Life would be¡­boring any other way,¡± jested Excelsior.


    ¡°This is the farthest south I have ever gone without my father.¡±


    ¡°And the farthest south you have walked with your canine brother.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand what I mean-¡°


    ¡°I do. And trust me in knowing that what you are thinking about, I can help you with. I can¡¯t be your father. But I know you don¡¯t want to be alone. You will never be alone. That is why we are here. You might have lost a father, but you have also gained six brothers.¡±


    ¡°I know, thank you.¡±


    ¡°We will be with you until the end, Mitakahn.¡± Excelsior put his arm around Mitakahn¡¯s shoulders. The two walked back to the camp and got the fire started. ¡°Our scouts have not arrived back yet?¡±


    ¡°I guess not. They must be giving Anilithion the advance tutorial.¡± Mitakahn joked.


    Just then a familiar yelp is heard faintly by Excelsior. ¡°I know that voice.¡± He quickly ran out into the fields of darkness. Mitakahn chased after him. ¡°Go back, prince. Watch the camp. This is my concern.¡± But Mitakahn continued following Excelsior stubbornly.


    The two approached the ridge and slowly climbed to the top. The clouds cleared in the sky and the moonlight stabbed through the rising dust over the ridge. Dirt kicked up from a fight. From something¡¯s struggle. The lunar rays spread diagonally down above the crouched backs of Mitakahn and Excelsior now hiding in the shadow of the mound. As if they were spying on the moon.


    More screams in the distance. The two broke the lines of light and darkness and raised their heads over the hill, peering at the other side. They found Bridger and Anilithion downing a beast. They walked up behind their comrades to get a better look.


    ¡°It is a wild hoggabor,¡± answered Bridger.


    The five of them, Mitakahn, Anilithion, Bridger, Excelsior, and Orion return back to the camp, and they roasted the hog over the bonfire.


    They ate well that night. Excelsior was glad of it. For he knew the road would be long and painstaking in the morning. The routine affected everyone¡¯s spirits except Excelsior who lived for the wilderness. Three princes: Bridger, prince of the Stag Kingdom, Anilithion, prince of the Steed Kingdom, and Mitakahn, prince of the Lion Kingdom, were used to the luxuries of warm rooms and soft beds. Excelsior on the other hand was no prince and concordantly was very comfortable with his lifestyle as a vagabond.


    They spent another night sitting around the fire. Mitakahn enjoyed the feeling of company during his travels, that lost sentiment of friendship. Life was getting better. His pain was easing with every new day. Mitakahn went to sleep with renewed spirits. He gave himself to the enchantment of dreams and fell into a deep slumber¡­


    ¡­¡±Falling in a dark sky. I feel helpless. The inevitable doom approaches. Above me, waving goodbye, the glowing moon. Still, I plummet. Still, I fall. My body hits the ground with a furious impact and yet I stand up from the crash. This must be a dream. Again, I realize I am inside my dream. Do I consciously live in two worlds now? Can it be more? This has only happened a couple of times, and those times have come to be crucial precursors. There has to be a reason behind such blatant warnings. Then I must follow my heart¡­and walk on.


    Dark hills, resembling those of which my body sleeps right now. Brown grass cascading over a sullen horizon. The shining moon illuminates my path. Moving above me in the black night sky. There are no clouds. There are no stars. Just me and the moon. But I can feel another presence. A greater presence. One of danger. I look behind me. The thick dark atmosphere is swallowing the earth. The catastrophe is nipping at my heels. I run! I run to stay alive. I run, but I cannot run forever. And there is no help in sight. I stop, turn around, and confront the rolling force. It wipes out the ground beneath me. I stand firm in the wake. I stand on nothing. It is all around me. I reach for my sword but there is nothing there. No hope except one last lifeline¡­the moon. I feel its light upon me. I let the lunar rays cover me. The white beams pull me up from the black space. I rise in stellar gravity.


    I am now on the moon and can no longer see the light. Now the black is everywhere. What can I do? It haunts my every move. It doesn¡¯t matter if it''s a dream or reality. I cannot escape it. What must I do? I close my eyes. Out from the other side of the moon crawl hideous monsters. Six arms, six swords, six eyes. Their crawl is like a constant stumble avalanching towards me. I reach for my weapon.


    The blazon sword simmers in my grip.


    I pull it from its sheath. The white sparks erupt off the glowing blade. It burns with the same light as the moon. The white light reflects off four beacons on the earth. It somehow looks familiar, is it another sign? Another means to the end? I spin myself around as the creatures come at me, holding my sword out in front of me. The knife cuts open the monsters and the fire spreads throughout their wounds. They are gutted and left lifelessly on the ground. I gather my energy and burn the fire in a mighty fury. It consumes the moon and the light is born once again. Out from behind the earth comes the sun. I can see the beacons clearly now, they are four towers of a stone city. The darkness has fully retreated back into the shadows. And the floor of the earth has returned for me to freely walk on once again.


    So, I return home. Home to where the sun rises. The floor of the earth stretches and bounces. It is daybreak, and I do not only believe in my dream. I push off the ground with my feet and rapidly rise into the air. I rise out of the sky and continue into the universe¡±¡­


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    Mitakahn opened his eyes, his pupils resembling the starless, cloudless universe he was escaping. He arose from his sleep and greeted the new day with a fresh morning breath. It was time to walk the road again. As the group packed up camp, Mitakahn told Excelsior about his most recent dream. He described the moon and the sword. But as he mentioned the beacons Excelsior interrupted him.


    ¡°I know what it is you saw,¡± he smiled.

 Chapter 41: Epitaph City

    CHAPTER 41 ¨C EPITAPH CITY


    After all this time on the road, he knew how things worked now. He could feel the wind on his face and the sun beating down on him. The elemental nutrients gave him energy. He inhaled and gathered the spirit of nature. And so, time sped up around him. The sun was being pulled under the horizon when Excelsior yelled out, ¡°Look! It¡¯s Epitaph!¡±


    Four tall stone towers appeared from behind a small hill. The amber sparkle of the sun reflected off the gray stone skyscrapers sun-bathing away its bluish hint.


    ¡°We made it.¡± The wanderer gave a sigh of relief.


    Even to a nomad the feeling of coming home still warmed the heart. The company made their way through the walls of the city. Mitakahn was overcome by the beauty of the foreign city.


    This ancient city was built with the same stone that served as pavement for the road. Massive slabs of bluish-gray stone pieced together to create grand halls and bed-rock buildings. In the core of the city there were few towers, among them were four skyscrapers. The beacons Mitakahn saw in his dream. Each one was a different directional point.


    At the North Tower was the city¡¯s main meeting hall. The South Tower was the city¡¯s biggest marketplace. The West Tower was the library, an institute of sciences and law. And the East Tower was a local temple. There were no Canine Gods, but there was this temple.


    Noone really knew who or what it was a temple for, but it was there. It had always been there. It was built along with the other three towers and the road. These four ancient beacons were the last remaining buildings that had not been rebuilt or remodeled from the original construction of Epitaph. Their faint shade of gray stood out among the rest of the blue and sandy stone. The rest of the city was covered in clusters of small buildings and temporary homes.


    It was getting late. The company had walked for most of the day, and now they were feeling the effects of it. They ended their trek at a local cobblestone cavern that Excelsior was very fond of, and apparently, had a past with, The Doberman Pinscher. When they entered the dimly lit tavern, they saw a table in back with familiar faces. With a tall glass of ale in each of their hands sat Kunezar, Humbler, and Tron.


    Mitakahn was overwhelmed with joy. The knights all greeted each other.


    ¡°Tron!¡± Mitakahn smiled and embraced his friend. ¡°What in the name of the gods are you doing here?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°Must you ask, Mitakahn?¡± Excelsior interrupted, already knowing the answer.


    ¡°It does my heart well to see you again, friends. All I can say is that silver bird of yours has a strange way of communicating, and here we are¡­¡± answered Tron.


    Tron was a rather tall lad, known for his long thin ginger hair, thick arms and legs, and face with brooding and reckless features, a true citizen of the Gorilla Nation. Tron was Mitakahn¡¯s closest friend at the academy.


    ¡°It¡¯s truly fascinating. He squeaks sort of a¡­ tune in to your thoughts, you know? Like you¡¯re¡­.receiving a message,¡± Kunezar tried to properly explain.


    Equal in size to Excelsior, Kunezar contrasted Excelsior¡¯s smooth looks with a very rough posture. His jagged, agonized face and epicanthal folds gave him a look of reclusiveness, coupled with a soft spoken nature that was common among his people in the SandLands. The Kingdom of the Lizard had long suffered inside their city in the desert, the Komodo Maze, even the most noble of their lines showing the physical effects. After only one time hearing his father call him at the academy a nickname stuck to him closer than any other. It came to a point where people referred to the desert knight more commonly than his real name.


    ¡°Kones! It is great to see you. You look well!¡±


    ¡°As do you, Mitakahn.¡±


    Mitakahn addressed the last member of his closest group of friends, ¡°Humbler, my friend, it has been too long.¡±


    ¡°I have been thinking about you since the funeral, my friend. How did you come across such a magical creature?¡±


    By far the tallest of the knights, with big ears, a surprised face, and thin lips, Humbler was one of the few members of the Bear Kingdom who would do more good in the world spending his time at the library instead of the mines.


    Mitakahn used this question to bring everyone up to speed on what had happened to him since the funeral. For Anilithion, it would be the third time hearing some of the stories.


    Tron, Kunezar, and Humbler considered it their mission now to help Mitakahn see it through to the end. The new additions to the company then reminded Bridger and Excelsior that Mitakahn was not with them for graduation and that immediately sparked a new topic for conversation. They all proceeded, in turn, to tell him about it.


    The graduation was short and quaint. The Knighthood of the Silver Den was not big with celebrations, but the ceremony was the most important of any at the academy. The academy presented their class in front of the entire school and awarded them medals of excellence and diplomas of accomplishment. Mitakahn was beginning to feel left out. Given the events that unfolded before his return to the Pride, he was not able to be there with them. Mitakahn could not tell if the rest of them knew about his expulsion. Tron could see Mitakahn¡¯s convoluted eyes and tormented silence and took the cue to present him with an opportunity of redemption.


    ¡°Mitakahn they told us you were expelled,¡± Tron spoke on behalf of everyone else, ¡°The Headmaster told us it was for trespassing and then he told us about your father.¡±


    Mitakahn had a hard time looking at any of them in the eyes. He didn¡¯t know what to say.


    Luckily, Tron went on, ¡°After graduation Headmaster Pulitzer ordered us to represent our brotherhood at the funeral.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my brotherhood anymore.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn, the Headmaster tasked me with giving you something that day, but I thought it would be disrespectful to your father to give this to you on a day meant to honor him.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°What are you saying, Tron?¡±


    Tron handed Mitakahn a certificate.


    Mitakahn opened it and read its contents. It was a reinstatement into the academy.


    ¡°Your expulsion was revoked by special decree of the headmaster.¡±


    ¡°If we make it through all of this you are expected to return and complete your training.¡±


    Mitakahn looked up with water-filled eyes, he had so much to say, but he simply responded, ¡°Thank you¡­all of you, for always being there.¡±


    ¡°To your father,¡± Excelsior toasted as they all raised their glasses together, ¡°May it never be too late¡­to make him proud.¡±


    The group sat in silence for a while, digesting Mitakahn¡¯s current affairs. Conversation discreetly re-entered their circle and soon, after many cups of cider and ale the group had exhausted themselves with drink and were ready to retire. They made their way upstairs and piled into two connecting rooms with soft cushioned beds compared to the rough floor of the wilderness.


    Mitakahn would lie in his bed unable to sleep staring up at the ceiling. He was so glad all his friends were with him now. Chronis sat by the windowsill as if he was keeping watch. Mitakahn felt completed; no longer being held down by the cloud of being abandoned by his kingdom. Mitakahn felt free, the circle of his closest friends now fully present and complete.


    He stared deep into the wooden beam above him. He would stare through the wood one splinter at a time, and then the roof, out into the night. He would look deeper and see the stars high above him moving down into the horizon, vast shale swinging in the echoed past¡­


    ¡­¡±They move with incredible speed. Never have I seen such a thing. Never have I been able to see past wood into the brightness of the universe. Yet, here I stand once again aware- Before I realize what is happening, all the stars fall from the sky. A shower of dying light. It was once again black. The darkness chases me around. As if a nightmare is constantly biting at my feet. I must escape. I leave my chambers and walk the streets of Epitaph at night.


    Thieves walk these streets unchecked, you know¡­


    Excelsior¡¯s voice in my ears.


    They thrive in the dark of night.


    And now I walk in the middle of it. I do not have my sword. The magical flaming sword. I must find the sword to save my kingdom. And to do that I must find the Carbon Terra. But how?


    The glimmer of light hits my eye. It is blinding at first, but I recover. I follow its trail. It leads me to an alleyway of shadow. Who knows what lurks in the night? I cannot follow. What darkness could infiltrate my dreams and take a hold of me?


    A whisper from the alleyway. I have to go down it. This will all make sense if I just face my fears of the dark. Or so I hope¡­


    I slowly walk down the alley. The shadow consumes me. I feel it all over. Its weight on the back of my neck. I reach for my weapon and pull it out of its sheath. A thick diamond-crusted blade by the looks of it. It burns my hand. I scream and drop it. It plummets to the ground and shatters into millions of pieces.


    The glimmer of light flashes again. This time it reflects off my eyes and then off the tiny pieces of diamond on the ground. An intricate plot of rays comes into focus. The light from the rays cuts the ground and I go falling into the abyss.


    Voices shout softly into the falling night sky. The pieces of diamond fall with me as the light refracts from one another, creating a prism around me. We crash into the ground and the prism protects my fall. I now stand at the center of the city. Facing north looking at the Grand Hall of Epitaph City. A court. A market. A library. A temple. Four points of a city.


    With that thought I am grabbed and pulled to the West. Into the library of Science, History, and Law. Hundreds of racks of books and recordings. Accounts of old and new. Ancient sciences. Hokey religions. This place is an archive of history. Ah!


    Pulled out of the building to the South. I fall into the marketplace. A pit of a thousand coins breaks my fall. I go to get up. I am attacked. I struggle to protect myself, but they do not hurt me. They avoid me. A quick scramble and then they all leave. Every coin is missing from my back. I now sit on the floor.


    I am pulled once again, this time to the North. I am under trial. The city rallies together, up in arms. Soon I will, by vote, be banished from Epitaph. What have I done? With little time to react, I am pulled to the East.


    The temple. Excelsior talked about this place. Long has it been a place for worship and praise to the gods. But the Canine Kingdom has no gods of their own, only the ones they share with the rest of the world. Who then¡­could this place be made as a tribute to?


    Pieces of the diamond sit on the floor in front of me. As if they are on the altar to be sacrificed. I get on my knees and assemble the pieces back together. It is not difficult, they fit together with ease. What is the answer to this riddle? I place the last piece inside the diamond and the glimmer of light returns hitting the diamond.


    Rays of light shoot out every which way and cover the room. I can¡¯t help but look into the crystal. Its sharp and exact edges turn smooth. The lights grab me and pull me in. I see myself with my eyes wide open, white glowing pupils, shining full of light holding a sword of white fire. This is how I find what I search for¡­¡±


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°It¡¯s here!¡±


    ¡°What is?¡±


    ¡°The Carbon Terra!¡±


    ¡°The ancient diamond?¡± asked Humbler.


    ¡°Mitakahn calm down,¡± said Bridger, ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s here?¡±


    ¡°I think I am supposed to bring it to the temple in the center of town.¡±


    ¡°Where is this diamond?¡± asked Tron.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± confessed Mitakahn.


    ¡°Then how can we bring it to the temple if we don¡¯t even know where to look for it?¡± scrutinized Kunezar.


    ¡°The library,¡± answered Excelsior. ¡°We ask Demascus. That was always the plan.¡±


    ¡°Excelsior is right,¡± said Mitakahn, ¡°We go there first.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know Kones! You just have to bear with me.¡±


    ¡°Then tell us what you do know, prince,¡± interrupted Tron.


    ¡°I was pulled to every tower. North, south, east, and west. My journey ended at the temple where I looked into the gem. It started at the library.¡±


    ¡°What happened at the other two towers?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to make out. I witnessed thieves robbing the market clean, and then I was blamed for the burglary at the court. It didn¡¯t make much sense. But then again, what part of this does?¡±


    ¡°Then it is settled¡­we make for the library post-haste,¡± declared Excelsior.


    The group gathered their things and equipped themselves with their gear. Mitakahn looked around as he tightened his belt. Chronis was no longer by the windowsill. He was gone. He must have left some time in the night, perhaps on another secret mission.

 Chapter 42: Demascus

    CHAPTER 42 ¨C DEMASCUS


    The group set out to the West Tower, crossing into the courtyard, and spanning the distance between. Excelsior entered first with Orion by his side. The Institute¡¯s director noticed them immediately.


    ¡°Ah, Excelsior! You have returned to our fair city. Welcome home, I just saw your brother Whelan and his cronies not too many moons ago. I see holding a roaming court runs in the family!¡±


    Excelsior brought the group over for introductions. Orion greeted the director¡¯s dog, Greyden who sat tepidly on a tasseled worn-in paisley-patterned floor pillow by the bookcases. Greyden resembled his master in many ways, most notable his gray whiskers.


    ¡°This is Demascus, he taught me almost everything I knew before the academy, aside from my parents and sisters. If there is anyone that can find your clues, Mitakahn, it is this man.¡±


    ¡°Prince Mitakahn, it is an honor to have you here. I knew your father. He was a good man and a worthy king.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my lord. A mutual friend sent me. His name is Echo.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±


    Mitakahn was not expecting an awkward hesitation. The memory of doubt crawled into his thoughts.


    ¡°What reason did this Echo send you my way?¡±


    ¡°He told me the legend of the warlocks, helped me call forth my visions from the Ignaleos Cor, and gave me a volume of the Mandrake Mandates.¡±


    Upon hearing one sentence, Demascus¡¯ demeanor completely changed. He brought Mitakahn, Excelsior, and the rest of the company in through the entrance hall to his personal office. The pressed oakmont bench table provided more than enough room for everyone to have a seat. The surrounding racks and shelves of books and essays distracted Mitakahn¡¯s companions.


    ¡°Now tell me, prince, exactly how did Echo bring your visions forth?¡±


    ¡°A potion called Trillion¡¯s Syphon.¡±


    Demascus brow un-furrowed and a smirk could be seen under his long gray mustache. He scratched his furry chin. Mitakahn could tell he was piecing it all together and predicted the librarian¡¯s next question.


    ¡°How did you get the berserker eye?¡±


    ¡°We hunted one that was already hunting me.¡±


    Now the smile was on his face for all to see.


    Anilithion exchanged concerned glances with Tron and Kunezar. Demascus continued.


    ¡°Not an easy feat at that. You have come a long way to speak with me. How can I help?¡±


    ¡°What are the Incapsulate Impernums and what does it have to do with the Carbon Terra?¡±


    ¡°Those are old founder words. The warlocks based the original runes off many of those gemstones. Do any of you know what it translates to in common tongue?¡±


    Humbler had an answer at the ready, ¡°Impernum means impermeable or another word for invincible or immortal, and Incapsulate means enclosure.¡±


    ¡°Correct. The same original celestial forces that turned into the gods when man was born went through yet another metamorphosis to pure crystal. Trapped by their own magic, made by the gods for the gods. Scattered all over MagnaThora, their divine power lay dormant for all eternity. The Carbon Terra was not just one of them but considered by many to be the crown jewel.¡±


    ¡°So it holds the power of a god inside of it?¡±


    ¡°Not just the power, but each gemstone if properly accessed could release a founder god from the first age. One of the phenoms themselves. Praise be eternal.¡±


    ¡°Praise be,¡± many of them repeated, but decidedly not all.


    ¡°This has already been helpful. Our knowledge is limited on the Carbon Terra.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s start with the basics. Carbon Terra, means ¡®pure earth¡¯. It is the perfect representation of earth¡¯s purity as a flawless diamond. Look here¡­¡± Demascus pointed to the drawing on the page of a book he had seemingly pulled from thin air, ¡°It is a massive diamond, perfectly symmetrical.¡±


    Everyone took turns reading the article on the artifact. Mitakahn watched them after reading it for himself. They did not understand. It could not compare to the Mandrake Mandate. Sure, he was robbed of the chance to read the article he intended, but everything else he had examined leading up to the Carbon Terra chapter had more depth than these standardized scripts.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t say where the jewel is located.¡± Humbler pointed out.


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t contain a detail like that.¡±


    ¡°Would the Mandrake Mandate?¡±


    Demascus looked directly at Mitakahn. There was no mistaking his manner. There was not a shred of doubt in his eyes before he said, ¡°The Mandrake Mandates are not republic approved.¡±


    ¡°I am a prince of Zepathorum, the ways of the Republic matter not to me. Do you have a copy of them?¡±


    Excelsior laughed.


    ¡°A copy?¡± Demascus smirked, ¡°They wrote the originals under this very roof, but we do not need the volumes. I know everything there is to know about the Incapsulate Impernums.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± Bridger instigated wisely.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°Like the fact that Quarrel was trapped in them by his own trick. Or that Apophas put the gods in the stones because of a broken heart. We all know the tales from the nurseries, but it takes a real dedicated expert, such as me, to find the truth behind all of the legends.¡±


    The Legend of Essence Reach


    The Warlocks, through the Oculus Veil, had arranged an alliance with one of the phantom gods. Years of planning had led up to this one battle for the god¡¯s gemstone. The warlocks had finally found it in a trap of monsters and disaster.


    It was only until they were in the throes of battle that they made the brash decision to switch objectives. The master who designed this trap left an unknown gem unprotected. The great sorcerer Lantic Trombose led the warlocks in redirecting their forces and recovering the Sol Epher. In the aftermath of the battle the Carbon Terra was left behind and would vanish into legend. The ally through the Oculus Rift never tried to contact the Warlocks again.


    You might be asking yourself, ¡®how was this a victory?¡¯ The Sol Epher gave us the Ephearian Order. The Warlocks took the gemstone back and before they did anything, they studied it. Taking their time with observations and examinations, they figured out how to use it to create champions of light, known as the Ethereal Order.


    ? ? ?


    ¡°So. . . you may ask questions now.¡±


    The group started talking all at once.


    ¡°Who is inside the Carbon Terra then?¡±


    ¡°Why was the battle called Essence Reach?¡±


    ¡°Which god was inside the Epher Sol?¡±


    ¡°How are we going to find this thing?¡±


    ¡°You are asking the wrong questions,¡± Demascus went on, ¡°No god was inside the Epher Sol. It took the warlocks a very long time to figure that one out. It is made up of an essence created long ago by the alchemists. Only epher can make an ephearian. I could spend an entire day explaining what I just said.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this,¡± Bridger sighed.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s get down to it. What you lot need is some modern facts as opposed to all this ancient myth. There are many who would agree with me when I say what the republic does not know won¡¯t hurt anyone. This is not a new idea. Long ago, the canine kingdom found the godstone and sold it in order to avoid our complete collapse. Although time has helped fade the Carbon Terra into obscurity, important things always find a way of coming home.¡±


    ¡°I knew it!¡± Mitakahn took another step towards the validation of his dreams.


    ¡°Now we are getting somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Before I go any further¡­what are your intentions with the diamond?¡±


    ¡°For a while on the road I did not know. I only had pieces. Now as I get closer to the diamond it seems clear and obvious all at once. We wish to unlock its potential and free the god inside.¡±


    ¡°There is no way of knowing what will come out of it. I cannot allow that.¡±


    ¡°Whoever it is, will lead me to the Crucifire Sword.¡±


    ¡°The great evilbane? It is a legend. Only Patronalus, Lord of Man, can wield it.¡±


    ¡°It is said to belong to any king worthy enough to wield it.¡±


    ¡°And your kingdom is in dire need of one of those, I¡¯m beginning to see...¡±


    Demascus took a deep exhale. He was troubled and clearly weighing things out to himself, like a jury of old librarians all wrapped up in one old man¡¯s body, one dusty beard of deliberation.


    ¡°It is too big of a risk unleashing the god inside the Carbon Terra. Even if we could¡­ how do you plan on identifying who it is?¡±


    ¡°With the combined wits of this group, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Does that include Orion?¡±


    ¡°If it must,¡± vouched Excelsior.


    Demascus looked at Excelsior and then continued his line of questioning, ¡°Why should I help an outsider unlock the powers of the Carbon Terra when even the most gifted of Epitaph scholars have never been able to solve the mystery?¡±


    ¡°Because of your friend Echo. He helped me conjure the vision, a vision of my kingdom getting attacked. Tell me, if he was standing here before you today would you doubt his claim or deny his request?¡±


    ¡°No I would not¡­If it is the same man I think it is, but I must tell you the name Echo is a common alias for warlocks.¡±


    ¡°I knew he was hiding something.¡±


    ¡°I do not doubt that your intentions are true, prince. I am merely calculating if it is worth the risk. The credit of your companion Excelsior is worth quite a lot. With his endorsement, I see no reason to keep you from your quest as long as we unleash the god together.¡±


    ¡°That was easier than I expected.¡±


    ¡°To be honest with all of you I have been waiting a long time for the right reason to see if the legends are true. I have spent many days pondering the ancient riddle of who sleeps within the god stone, as its guardian. Whoever it is, I think it is safe to say that it must be the same god that worked with the warlocks from the other side of the Oculus Veil. Many think it is Thora, the goddess also known as mother nature, because of the etymology of Carbon Terra, some think it could be Ample or Nero, and there are all of the others to consider. There just is not enough information and too many options, not to mention how long it has been. In this age, people think it is all myth. Monsters can attack at night but gods are still just a story. How very sad, indeed.¡±


    ¡°It could be Queen Epiphany, she dishonored the gods by staying in MagnaThora.¡±


    ¡°There were always those who thought it to be Lady Epiphany, but as you said the legend is she was not there when the Phenom gods were cast out of Legacy City.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the legends of Quarrel and Isola. She was a beautiful genius. An inventor,¡± added Kunezar.


    ¡°Yes you are correct. The goddess Isola, in fact, forged the Incapsulate Impernums for Quarrel. She was madly in love with him. That love blinded her to Quarrel¡¯s deception. It could very well be her.¡±


    ¡°She is the goddess of ingenuity and not malevolent in any way.¡±


    ¡°The never world has no fury like a woman scorned,¡± Kunezar quoted one of the common colloquialisms from his hometown in the desert.


    ¡°None of whom he mentioned are evil really, not even Ample or Nero, odds are we set free one of the good ones.¡±


    ¡°It is not a matter of whether they were good. We have no idea what all of that time in the NetherRealm has done to them. Best-case scenario they are crazy with immense power, worst-case scenario they are angry with immense power. It was never a worthy risk, but frankly, I have grown bored of playing it safe. An ordinary life has gotten us this far, and now, according to Prince Mitakahn, there are people in danger. We simply cannot do nothing. I see no better time to conduct the ceremony of relinquishment.¡±


    ¡°So, I guess there is only one other thing left to do. You must be careful. It is the most sought after jewel in the world. Be extremely discreet. You are not the only ones looking for it. Keep your quest a secret and be wary of anything out of the ordinary. Now go to the market and ask for Conroy.¡±


    ¡°This has all been very helpful, Demascus¡± said Excelsior. ¡°I can never thank you enough.¡±


    ¡°You thank me every day by making me a proud mentor.¡±


    The group gave their appreciations as they said goodbye and left the Western Tower. They went down to the marketplace and at first they had no idea where to begin. Orion bowed to Greyden who was far too old to pay any attention to the pup¡¯s antics. Orion walked away and licked a patch of dirt off the back of Anilithion¡¯s neck, making the young prince giggle.

 Chapter 43: The Marketplace

    CHAPTER 43 ¨C THE MARKETPLACE


    The main building was made of the same stone as the road. The marketplace looked like one big box with a circular roof overhead where the stone thinned into translucence. There was constant chaos going on within the building. Trades and deals being bargained and bartered everywhere.


    ¡°Excelsior are you familiar with this arena?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°Um¡­I have not been here in years. But it should still work the same. We need to go to the inner circle for jewels and currencies.¡±


    The team made their way to the inside of the market and reached a table covered in all sorts of diamonds. Excelsior led the conversation for them.


    ¡°Excuse me, we are looking for Conroy.¡±


    ¡°Conroy, huh? And what would it be concerning?¡±


    ¡°Our business is our own, kind stranger.¡±


    ¡°He is not one to accept random calls. I need a reason.¡±


    ¡°We are old friends. That should be enough.¡±


    ¡°As you wish. I will go get him for you. Wait here.¡±


    After a short while a man with a tunic dirty with gem-polish and torn with holes came out of the back.


    ¡°Are you Conroy?¡±


    ¡°I am him.¡±


    ¡°We have been told to come to you by my mentor, Demascus. I am Excelsior and we are in search for the Carbon Terra-¡±


    ¡°Ssshhh! I must stop you right there. There is no such thing!¡± Conroy blurted out, and then continued in a whisper, ¡°We must seek private council if what you say is true. Meet me tonight here inside the market tower. Knock four times on the door, after the third knock pause and wait a moment before the last knock.¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡±


    ¡°Now get out of here, and don¡¯t talk to anybody else about it!¡±


    As they left the marketplace the same man who had gotten Conroy for them yelled out after them, ¡°What, you come and go without buying anything?¡±


    Bridger turned around and took a stern look at the man. Something was not right about him, something was off. The company returned to the tavern where they spent the previous night and got something to eat. They ate and talked around the table about their hunt for the diamond until sunset.


    ¡°Alright I think we have waited long enough, let us return back to the market,¡± Anilithion eagerly suggested.


    The group walked back to the Southern Tower and came upon the door. Excelsior tried to knock the code, but upon the first knock he pushed the door open. It must have never been locked¡­


    ¡°Be very wary,¡± Tron repeated the advice of Demascus.


    ¡°This does not feel right, cousin,¡± Anilithion warned Mitakahn.


    They slowly walked in one by one. As light as a breeze, they made not a sound. They walked through the hollow marketplace, a shell of what it was just hours ago. They approached the backroom where they first saw Conroy walk out of. It was pitch black. Anilithion was right... something was wrong. The seven warriors entered the room. Excelsior searched for a source of light while Orion nudged him earnestly, which usually meant¡­something was coming.


    Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them. The torches on the walls lit. Mitakahn could now see that twenty thieves surrounded the group. The company quickly drew swords as Orion got low, growling furiously, showing his teeth. Mitakahn¡¯s white metal gauntlet cascaded out of his left hand as it gripped his sword, clicked into place, and returned to its darker gray metal form. Those still not familiar with his new armor noticed it, but in the heat of the moment could not address it.


    ¡°You are looking for the Carbon Terra.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± answered Excelsior.


    ¡°We are not stupid, your friends have told us all about it.¡±


    ¡°Friends¡­?¡±


    Just then, Conroy was pulled from the corner, bound and gagged. The man holding him was the same guy earlier that afternoon that went and got Conroy for them.


    ¡°You!¡± blurted out Bridger who jumped after him, only to get pulled back by Tron and Anilithion before anything happened.


    ¡°We demand to know where the Carbon Terra is.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± Spoke Excelsior on behalf of the group.


    ¡°If you lie to us one more time we will kill him.¡±


    ¡°We are not lying. We came here to find it.¡± Mitakahn stopped before he said too much and gave Conroy up. But it was too late. The thieves set their eyes upon the beaten and bound Conroy. They took the gag out of his mouth.


    ¡°So¡­why don¡¯t you tell us all where the Carbon Terra is¡­¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know where it is.¡±


    The thief took out his small knife and slammed its handle into Conroy¡¯s fingers, breaking his knuckle.


    ¡°By the gods! Please stop! Please I¡¯ll tell you, I¡¯ll tell you.¡±


    ¡°Well then, go ahead¡­¡±


    ¡°Long ago, when they began mining the southern slopes of the Atlas Mountains they did not find much. Many of the miners were of the Canine Kingdom. Back then we were poor and one of the lower class kingdoms. To find anything would be a stepping stone for the nation¡¯s quest for success. The miners dug deep into the earth, the more they came up empty, the deeper they mined.¡±


    ¡°GET TO THE POINT, OLD MAN!¡± One of the thieves yelled out.


    ¡°One miner fell through a crevasse, down a tunnel. It is said that he fell to the center of the earth. There, in the pitch black was the Carbon Terra. He lifted it out of the ground without struggle and brought it back to the surface. The Canine Kingdom brought it back to the City. From there it was decided that it would be broken up into separate pieces. The pieces would be sold into the world market and bring about a new age of wealth for the Canine Kingdom. It is how our country got back on its feet.¡±


    ¡°Is that true?¡± Bridger whispered to Excelsior.


    ¡°A touching story, and not a bad conspiracy theory I might add. But that does us no good. Are you saying that it is gone...assimilated into the world¡¯s economy?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. Why would you bring these men here at night just to tell them that?¡±


    With a head nod, the sword handle ran back into Conroy¡¯s hand and broke another knuckle.


    ¡°Do not lie to us!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference? You¡¯re going to kill me either way.¡±


    ¡°If he tells you everything, will you release him to us?¡± interrupted Mitakahn.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a deal.¡±


    ¡°They broke the Carbon Terra into four pieces and hid them underneath each tower in the city. The smaller pieces that fell off in the process were sold and worth tremendous wealth.¡±


    They cut Conroy¡¯s bounds and threw him over to Mitakahn.


    ¡°You are a fool!¡± Conroy spat as he rubbed his knuckle, ¡°They¡¯re still going to kill us.¡±


    The leader turns to leave the room, smirks, and mumbles out of the corner of his mouth¡­¡±Kill them all.¡± The door closed with the company surrounded by thieves.


    Mitakahn looked over at his cousin. Not sure if this would be his first real fight. ¡°Anilithion! Do not hesitate to kill these men. They will show you no mercy.¡±


    Anilithion shook his head earnestly and braced himself. Orion without hesitation lunged at one of them and bit their neck immediately bringing him to the ground. Kunezar blocked a sword strike and cut his opponent¡¯s arm off, finishing him with a killing stroke. Humbler took out his opponent¡¯s legs leaving him helpless on the floor.


    Anilithion cut one thief down while his cloak blocked a sword-strike like a shield on his back. He clenched his sword tight and uppercut another, knocking the opponent on the floor unconscious. Another thief tried to take advantage of his blind side. Tron threw his sword into the thief sneaking up on Anilithion. A thief seeking to increase his odds attacked Tron without a weapon. Tron had only seconds to react to the attack after saving Anilithion. Luckily, Tron was no stranger to hand-to-hand combat. He dodged the sword and slipped behind the enemy, grabbing a firm grip on his chin and the side of his head, and snapping his neck from his back. Tron recovered his sword by Anilithion, taking it upon himself to look after Mitakahn¡¯s cousin.


    Bridger pulled out his bow and arrow and fired off several arrows putting down an opponent with each arrow. No one else would dare risk switching from the sword. One rushed him as he spun down low, dodging the opponent¡¯s knife, and tripping the thief.. He finished his opponent with a killing stroke to the back with an arrow. Excelsior wielding both of his short swords danced with three thieves. He threw his swords into the ceiling, jumped up, grabbed onto them as he dodged sword strikes flailing his legs, and kicked one square in the face knocking him to the floor.


    Orion bit at the heel of another. As Excelsior fell back to the floor, swords in hand, he decapitated his last opponent. Mitakahn backed Conroy into the corner to protect him. He kept his fighting simple: Parry. Dodge. Cut. Kill. They came at him looking to kill Conroy and finish any chance of the company retrieving the treasure. He tossed his sword into his off-hand and blocked the remaining two foes, one with his sword and the other with his silver gauntlet, but got caught off guard by the third, who punched Mitakahn right across the face.


    Mitakahn, instantly infuriated, cut down the other two in a quiet rage. He brought the last enemy to broken knees and opened his throat with his sword. The final body fell, lifelessly leaking a puddle of blood in front of Mitakahn and Conroy. Mitakahn rubbed his head and asked Conroy, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Now that that is over with. I hope you did not tell them the entire truth,¡± interrupted Bridger as he re-sheathed his sword, pulled his arrows out of the dead carcasses, wiped them off, and put them back in his quiver.


    ¡°No, I did not. Thank you so much for saving my life,¡± praised Conroy.


    ¡°You do not have to thank us. It is our fault to begin with. We brought this upon you, and for that we are truly sorry. Now, what didn¡¯t you tell them?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°The four pieces are not located at the bottom of the towers. When the towers were made¡­ at the top they created beacons of light to be lit in times of war. They could never figure out how to emit the light from the beacons¡­ that is until they discovered the Carbon Terra. The reason its discovery was kept secret all these years is because this country could not afford to have the beacon''s source of light become public knowledge. As you can see there are many people in this world that seek out the crystal for selfish gain. Once there were many of us but in the later era of this world we have grown few in numbers. I am one of the last members.¡±


    ¡°Of what?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°The warlocks.¡±


    ¡°You are a warlock?¡± Excelsior asked while he was slowly putting it all together, ¡°Demascus has told us of their crusades for ancient treasures and artifacts. But I¡¯ve always wondered¡­how could he know all these tales? As if they were common knowledge¡­unless. . .¡± The young wanderer drifted off in his thoughts as he came to an obvious conclusion, ¡°¡­Demascus is a warlock too!¡±


    ¡°Yes. It has been too long and I am out of practice. In my golden years, I would¡¯ve made a spectacle of tonight. There is real power in these books, boys. Without Demascus I will be the last of our kind here in Epitaph. This is truly a sad day.¡±


    Excelsior¡¯s face dropped in utter disbelief. His despair took over in a wind. He did his best to contain it. And chose his next words very carefully. ¡°You speak to me as though Demascus is dead. Is there something you know that I do not?¡±


    ¡°They have been following you since you entered the city, who knows how long before that.¡±


    Mitakahn felt a brief chill run down his spine.


    ¡°By the time they ambushed me he was already¡­ There was nothing I could do to help... I failed Demascus, but I will not fail you. I will show you how to ignite the godstone. I made a promise, a vow to take my brother¡¯s place at the ceremony.¡±


    Excelsior did not need him to say it outright. He knew deep down, in his heart, that Demascus was dead.


    ¡°But that would make you-¡± Bridger interrupted Anilithion before he could finish with one simple word that would have a tremendous impact on the situation at hand¡­


    ¡°Bait.¡±

 Chapter 44: Teams of Twos and Threes

    CHAPTER 44 ¨C TEAMS OF TWO¡¯S AND THREE¡¯S


    ¡°Then we will split up,¡± decided Mitakahn.


    Excelsior gave a quick look at Orion and the canine ran out of the room and up the stairs. Excelsior then turned to the rest of the group and said, ¡°I will go with Conroy, along with Humbler and Anilithion to the temple to create a stronghold. Bridger¡­ you and Kunezar go back to the Institute. Mitakahn and Tron go to the Courts. You guys will get to your tower and split up from there. Decoys go to the basements. The others get the pieces of diamond. We will meet at the temple. It is there that we must put the pieces together¡­if I¡¯m not mistaken, Conroy?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The pieces must be put together in the main altar room.¡±


    ¡°What about the piece at the top of this building?¡± asked Anilithion.


    ¡°We need not worry about that, prince,¡± answered Excelsior as Orion came out of the staircase with a glimmering rock carefully being held inside of his salivating mouth. Excelsior lifted out his hand and Orion dropped it. Excelsior held out the rock for the group to see.


    ¡°This is what it looks like. Now we must go and be careful.¡±


    It was a glistening diamond with crooked chunks clearly missing from its sides. The effervescent brilliance of the bright crystal rock was truly something to behold. They all took a second to admire it and then split up. Bridger and Kunezar reached the Tower of Science and Law first. They snuck in the back unnoticed.


    ¡°I shall go to the basement as a decoy.¡±


    ¡°No, stay with me,¡± Bridger demanded.


    Kunezar followed Bridger¡¯s lead as he scaled into the rafters. They crawled inside the tower in the shadows. Kunezar would never think to utilize some of the surroundings that Bridger was using for stealth.


    Tron and Mitakahn quickly ran up the main road of the city, from south to north. They did not have the luxury of secrecy. There were very few people out at night. Most wanderers valued the energy they received from a good night¡¯s rest. They only walked during the day. That gave Mitakahn and Tron a clear sprint across the quad. Halfway across Tron stopped Mitakahn.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I want to see it.¡±


    ¡°See what, Tron?¡±


    ¡°I want to see that thing on your wrist up close.¡±


    Mitakahn smiled as he remembered they were not yet used to his new tricks. He presented his left arm to Tron ready to snap his fingers in front of him.


    ¡°I have been working on summoning it without the sword.¡± He snapped and brought the mirror metal stacks of armor forth from his wrist scars. They looked a darker silver in the night time. Tron took a closer look.


    ¡°How did you come upon something like this?¡±


    ¡°A tale for another time my friend. We must make haste across the courtyard.¡±


    ¡°After this is all over, I will make sure you regale me with the story over some ale.¡±


    ¡°You got it, Tron.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡±


    The two continued across the fields.


    ¡°You should check out Anilithion¡¯s cloak.¡±


    Conroy led Anilithion, Humbler, and Excelsior to the temple and immediately started barricading the doors. Conroy locked the doors as Humbler and Anilithion lifted benches and other furniture over to block the doors from being broken down. Excelsior began to scale the tower, and Conroy ran into the closet and gathered all the clothes and oils necessary to perform the ritual.


    Tron and Mitakahn reached the Northern Tower and barged into the front doors. There was no one in the lobby of the building, but there was a light emitting from the upstairs floor.


    ¡°This could be a trap.¡±


    ¡°We have to go up there either way,¡± reasoned Mitakahn.


    The two drew their swords and carefully ascended the wide stone staircase.


    These stairs were detached from the other staircases that lead all the way up the tower. Mitakahn and Tron did not know this. This short, one story staircase went only to the Grand Courtroom. Mitakahn pushed the doors open and the light poured out from inside. The two walked in and the door shut behind them. The council was in session, but it did not look like the standard procedure of trials that take place in this city. Something was askew.


    ¡°The courts recognize the two unknown travelers who entered our city yesterday. You walk with no canine companion; therefore, you are not from this city. It has come to our attention that you are looking for the Carbon Terra. Right now, our guards are cleaning up a bloodbath you are responsible for at the Market. You are being charged with trespassing, murder, and kidnapping. You shall lay down your weapons and tell us where the Carbon Terra pieces are,¡± ordered the Headmaster Judge.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you right there. I¡¯ve already been through a mock trial, and this wreaks of amateur theater. Just who the hell are you people?¡±


    The false judges stood from their elevated seats and armed themselves with bows and arrows. ¡°Ha! For all your insight you were still foolish enough to just walk right in here. Archers, fire at will,¡± ordered the head thief.


    The archers lifted up their bows and strung them with arrows.


    From a window behind them, the glass was blown in. A black blur flew through, landing on one of the archers, tearing his body apart. The archers scrambled looking for the unknown threat. Orion rushed at them, from the shadows of the courtroom knocking several over and tackling one. He bit at his ankle and dragged him, kicking, and screaming back into the shadows. Mitakahn and Tron jumped on the opportunity.


    Mitakahn climbed up into the seats and cut down thief after thief with his sword. Tron tackled the closest archer and broke his neck. Another one jumped on his back, the thief¡¯s knife sliced open Tron¡¯s arm. He screamed in pain and threw the sloppy warrior over his head. The thief fell to the floor and dropped his knife. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Tron, without hesitation, plunged his broadsword into the face of his enemy. He picked up the bow of one of the fallen thieves and fired an arrow at another archer¡¯s head. He took cover and continued to pick off the other archers. Orion put an unshakable fear in the remaining thieves, and they ran, chaotically, out of the courtroom into the night. The fake Head Judge quivered on the floor underneath the tip of Mitakahn¡¯s sword. Tron came back over with Orion to Mitakahn¡¯s side.


    ¡°It is the same thief who ordered our death at the market, Mitakahn.¡±


    The three stood tall overhead as the thief shook and groveled in their shadows. Mitakahn put his sword away and knelt down in front of the thief. The conniving ingrate pleaded for his life with his face while he snuck a dagger out from the back of his cloak with his hand.


    Mitakahn tried to speak with him, ¡°Tell me...¡±


    The thief waited to make his move as Tron and Orion stared fixedly at him. He feared Orion, but he knew the prince was unarmed at the moment and this would be the best opportunity he would have to retake the upper hand. He prepared to make his move.


    ¡°¡­what is your name?¡±


    ¡°I was there¡­¡± He trailed off to pull Mitakahn¡¯s attention in, ¡°I carried Handsome Jac away after you knifed him in the chest.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The northwestern reach of the epitaph a day after your exile. We knew who you were. Boss Cass loved Handsome Jac like a son.¡±


    ¡°Warlord Cassius?¡± Tron said, ¡°You work for the golden city syndicate?¡±


    ¡°This whole time¡­¡± Mitakahn stammered, ¡°That ignoramus with the ridiculous haircut¡­ he cost me everything.¡±


    ¡°Ridiculous was the way you threw yourself at that empty jar.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea¡­¡± Mitakahn was at a loss for words.


    But as the thief uttered the first syllable of his next word his knife-wielding hand twitched, and before he could even reach Mitakahn with his dagger, Tron¡¯s sword came down as heavy as a sledgehammer through the thief¡¯s mouth into his neck; cutting his tongue half off. His arm dropped limp to the floor brandishing the dagger.


    Mitakahn remained stunned as Tron helped him regroup.


    ¡°How deep does this go, Tron? My kingdom¡¯s perils seem to be getting away from me.¡±


    ¡°Focus on the matter at hand. The diamond, we must hurry. The others will all be at the temple by now.¡±


    Before Mitakahn could thank Tron or move to climb the tower, Orion scurried out of the room and found the other set of stairs. He barked at Tron and Mitakahn and then began the ascent up the tower. Mitakahn tried to shake the paranoid thoughts away. There is no way of knowing how deep these implications went.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s the same crew that nearly killed me up north,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°You made it out alive and now they are all dead or soon to be. The good news is we know they can¡¯t fight worth a damn. ¡±


    Mitakahn stared at the gauntlet on his hand while he held his blood stained sword. ¡°I¡¯ll make every last one of them pay for their sins.¡±


    ¡°Come. Let¡¯s see what the dog has done.¡±


    The two ran out of the room and over to where they heard the bark come from. A door left hanging on one hinge swung into the wall calmly. Tron started walking up the stairs.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use. He is already on his way down. And I¡¯m sure he has the piece.¡±


    ¡°How can you tell?¡±


    ¡°He told us before,¡± answered Mitakahn.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember that from our training,¡± mumbled Tron, as he came back down the stairs.


    ¡°You just weren¡¯t listening.¡±


    ¡°Recently exiled and already talking like a wanderer.¡±


    Mitakahn leered at Tron and then gave way to a smile. Orion returned with another piece in his mouth.


    ¡°Good job, Orion. Now take it to the temple and we will be your decoy. Find another exit. We¡¯ll take care of the front.¡±


    Orion ran back into the courtroom and leapt out of the window he broke into, clearing the dangerous shards of glass still stuck in it. Mitakahn and Tron walked out of the front door, swords drawn. All they saw were a couple of figures in the shadows running towards the Hall of Science and Law.


    ¡°Bridger and Kones!¡±


    ¡°Pray they are not still there. Come now, prince.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to help them.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re in trouble.¡±


    ¡°I know!¡±


    ¡°Then we go together.¡± Tron rallied behind Mitakahn and the two rushed after the fleeting thieves.


    Bridger and Kunezar reached the top of the tower, but they had crawled too high and now they sat on top of the beacon room. They found a chute, but before they decided to jump down it, they heard voices talking in the room. It seemed that there were people awaiting their arrival inside the room. Bridger and Kunezar stood hunched over in the crawlspace on both sides of a hole in the ceiling being covered by a wood plank. Bridger took out his bow and a couple of arrows. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Kunezar watched as he had no idea what to do. Bridger turned to the side of the room where the voices were coming from and went to knock his bow with the arrows.


    He opened his eyes and looked at Kunezar as he exhaled. He took a step forward, the wooden plank snapped, and he plummeted into the room. On his way down he figured out where and how many there were and fired his arrows. As his feet hit the ground their bodies followed. Kunezar jumped down, when he landed he saw Bridger pulling his arrows out of two dead thieves on the floor. There in the center of the room, a glass chamber was constructed, but it looked as though its insides were empty. Bridger and Kunezar walked over to the compartment and scanned it for an opening. Kunezar rubbed his hand on a side of the glass and pushed inward. The sheet of glass slowly slid down into the floor.


    ¡°Come look at this, Bridger.¡±


    The two peered in at a quiet treasure, shining bright into the mirrors that they thought were glass. Bridger carefully removed it, wrapped it in a cloth, and tied it to his belt. They closed the compartment and made their way downstairs. When they got down to the ground level they ran into the main lobby where nine more thieves were waiting.


    Bridger pulled four more arrows out of his quiver and quickly loaded all four of them into his bow. Two arrows blew back one opponent, and the other two each brought down an enemy.


    ¡°Well, that takes care of three of them,¡± scoffed Kunezar as they drew their swords and charged at the remaining foes.


    They battled back and forth in the hall. Bridger took two of them into the library of record where they dueled between the book racks. Meanwhile, back in the lobby, Kunezar now faced four thieves. He jumped off the stairs onto two of them. Cutting one of them down and quickly getting to his feet as he kicked the other in the head unconscious. The remaining two charged at him. He ducked in between them while blocking their sword strikes.


    Bridger, still in the library, turned a quick corner and climbed up the book racks. The two turned the corner after Bridger but stopped when he was not there. He jumped down at them holding two arrows in his hands. The two unsuspecting opponents looked up at their enemy: a fatal flaw. They hit the floor and Bridger landed on his feet. He slowly rose with the bloody arrows still in his hands. The two thieves lie dead on the floor with punctured skulls. Bridger ran back through the hall in haste to return to Kunezar¡¯s aid.


    Kunezar charged at the remaining foes and sliced directly in the middle of the two of them, attracting both of their swords to his. He dropped down and spun around to take out their legs, but one of their swords knocked him in the back of the head. Kunezar stumbled and tried to keep himself from blacking out. The pain was overwhelming, but his Silver Den training kicked in. Kunezar jumped back just in time and escaped the other sword¡¯s slice. The thief¡¯s sword strike got stuck in the floor. Kunezar shook off pain and rolled over the crouching thief trying to pull out his sword from the floor and dodged the other¡¯s sword strike.


    As he rolled, he kicked the thief coming at him in the hip and threw him back into the wall. Kunezar finished rolling to his feet and decapitated the thief by pulling his sword out of the floor. Bridger entered the room and the two joined forces against the last thief getting up after being thrown into the wall. He saw the both of them coming at him and made a run for the doors to the front lawn.

 Chapter 45: When the Pieces Come Together

    CHAPTER 45 ¨C WHEN THE PIECES COME TOGETHER


    Mitakahn and Tron rushed after the thieves. They all converged on the front lawn of the Western Tower. Mitakahn tackled one of them into the tower wall. Bridger ran out and saw Mitakahn and Tron on the prowl. Kunezar threw his sword, heaving it into the air over the running thief. It came crashing down into his chest forcing the thief to fall forward. Tron knelt down and fired off an arrow from his bow. The arrow flew low through the air and pierced the thief¡¯s ankle pinning his leg to the ground. They defeated the last of them and regrouped in the field.


    ¡°Do you have your piece?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°Yes. And yours?¡±


    ¡°Orion took it to the temple,¡± answered Tron.


    They quickly caught their breath and started their last sprint across the quad. They made their way over to the East Tower. Bridger could not see any more thieves in the courtyards. What he did see was a familiar hound waiting for them in the tower¡¯s shadow of the moonlight. Tron looked up into the sky at the full moon. It looked bigger than usual, as if some supernatural force has been shining a spotlight on them the entire night. They followed Orion around back to an entrance those barricading inside left open for them. Orion took them into the main altar room. Excelsior came walking out of the back room with blood all over him and Conroy in his hands.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°What happened?!¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°They were waiting for us in the back. He went in to get the stuff we needed for the ritual.¡±


    ¡°They knew we were coming,¡± Mitakahn said.


    ¡°We found out from a thief in the northern hall. They were assigned to Mitakahn from the start by Warlord Cassius.¡±


    ¡°Cassius!?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no telling how many will come after us.¡±


    ¡°We brought this down on that poor man. I marched them right to his front door and asked for help. I handed the last of the warlocks up on a silver platter to that fat-headed crime boss. I failed them,¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°That¡¯s not true. Echo is still out there.¡±


    ¡°It is ultimately my fault, Excelsior,¡± Mitakahn confessed, ¡°I brought you all into my misery without any regard for your own well-being.¡±


    Excelsior looked at Mitakahn without contempt or forgiveness in his eyes. He looked at his friend like he was looking in a mirror. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°There is no way any of us could have known! For all we know the same people who exiled Mitakahn hired the warlord to kill us,¡± reasoned Tron.


    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t waste any more time!¡±


    ¡°Forget the ritual now! Let¡¯s just put the pieces together and see what happens,¡± suggested Kunezar.


    ¡°I am doing the ceremony!¡± Excelsior gave Kunezar a cold look as he informed him of the plan.


    ¡°The perimeter is secure. Do we have all four pieces?¡± said Bridger trying to break the tension.


    ¡°Yes,¡± answered Excelsior as he revealed three of the pieces. Bridger untied the rag from his belt and took out the final piece of the diamond, handing it over to Excelsior who was placing a pouch on the altar, and loosening it.


    ¡°Do you need help?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°You can hold it as I put the pieces together,¡± directed Excelsior, ¡°the rest of you stand back.¡±


    Excelsior wiped his hands clean and put on the charcoal robe. He placed each piece on the altar. Mitakahn walked behind the altar and got in position next to it. Excelsior fit two pieces together and handed them to Mitakahn. He took the oil from the altar and spread it over the two conjoined pieces in Mitakahn¡¯s hands. He fit the other two pieces together on the altar, pulled a handful out of the opened pouch, and rubbed a powder on them.


    Anilithion leaned over to Tron who was bandaging the wound on his arm and asked him, ¡°How does Excelsior know what to do?¡±


    Tron answered him with one, soft-spoken word, ¡°¡­Demascus.¡±


    Anilithion was the only one in the group that did not know of Excelsior¡¯s history. Growing up under Demascus, Excelsior learned many outdated ceremonies and irrelevant procedures of the Canine Kingdom¡¯s heritage. Excelsior always knew one day they would come to be useful, either for a resourceful reference or something inconsequentially important. But never in his wildest imaginations did he think that he would have to remember the step by step ritual of putting together the infamous Carbon Terra in his dear mentor¡¯s place.


    Excelsior lifted it up and concentrated all his attention as he slowly lowered it onto the half Mitakahn was holding. When the powder touched the oil a flame ignited spreading over the entire surface of the crystal and down into the cracks between the conjoining pieces. The flame welded all four pieces together. The entire diamond melded into one. Excelsior stepped back.


    Without warning, the entire diamond caught fire and began burning off its edges. What Mitakahn would never know is the smoke filling his lungs drifted past him and reached everyone involved in the mystic ceremony. Mitakahn coughed and shook his hands in fear of getting burned but he could not release the diamond. He tried over and over to rid himself of the diamond as it burned, but to no avail. The rigid diamond melted into a smooth sphere, just like it did in his dream.


    Mitakahn began to panic, but the fire in his hands did not burn him. So, he did not drop it, in fact he stopped moving completely. He stared into the fire as it eroded the diamond into a crystal ball, hypnotized as if. The fire danced around the ball and pulled Mitakahn¡¯s vision into its red crystal eye. Excelsior along with the rest of the group, watched helplessly, not knowing how to intervene.


    The prince stumbled back but still did not yell for help. The morphing diamond enthralled him. The small shining particles melted into all different colors and painted a perfect picture worthy of a thousand interpretations. The picture was a portal and swirled open for all to see. It lingered above them until it reached every corner of the ceiling and then dropped enveloping everyone.


    They briefly fell through a world not of their own, floating in utter oblivion. The company propelled back out of the diamond¡¯s realm. Mitakahn hit the floor as his head snapped back. The portal diminished and exploded above them raining darkness all around. Mitakahn could tell that they were no longer indoors. It was night and they were not in Epitaph City anymore. The shadows stirred. There was something in their midst.

 Chapter 46: The Mad Shadow

    CHAPTER 46 ¨C THE MAD SHADOW


    The air was different up here. They had been transported to an elevated location by the gem. As far as Mitakahn could tell, it was still the same night; that big fat full moon in the sky allowing him the keep track. They were displaced in location but not in time. Mitakahn rubbed his head and tried to get to his feet.


    He could see everyone around him present and accounted for. Then Mitakahn realized that the reason he could see everyone so clearly was because of the light emanating from between them all. It was the Carbon Terra at the center of the group. The gem had returned back to its diamond form. Such an unworldly thing would have the precedent to behave erratically. The light vibrated so frequently that it could not be seen by the naked eye, but it could be heard. The god-stone pulsated with a low hum. The diamond then started to engorge and perspire.


    Whatever was happening seemed to put a tremendous amount of strain on the corners of the diamond. Light splashed around the hillside as the condensation casted its shadow projection out from the glowing gem. It got everyone up and on the same page. Swords were once again drawn. By now, the Carbon Terra had tripled in size and was still growing.


    The fine diamond corners were bending and ready to give. The winds swirled the darkness around them. Light morphed the corners into elbows and knees. The hard glass surface of the crystal turned into organic matter but didn¡¯t lose any of its shine in the metamorphosis. The diamond was no more, the transition completing. The white silhouette of a womanly figure with long spangled hair lay before them. Her eyes opened and the winds of shadow snapped to her aid. They spun around her. The shadow wrapped the goddess up and gave her the same face as the night, vanishing from sight, and stealing the light.


    Mitakahn could no longer see the moon. He could barely see Tron and Anilithion closest to him. He heard Orion¡¯s bark and knew everyone was still close. He had to think of something fast. He looked down at his left hand. The gauntlet was a darker gray. It seemed to always mimic the current environment. As Mitakahn thought about how the magical gauntlet could parallel light, he saw it change to the mirror form. A spark of insight crawled into Mitakahn¡¯s mind. Perhaps, he could control the color of the metal. He remembered what Zora told him about Chronis¡¯ metal always being in flux.


    Mitakahn knew from his experience on the road not to think about changing the color of the gauntlet outright, but to, simply, think of the color itself. Right now, he needed light, so he thought about the big fat full moon above them, hiding behind the dark clouds. Mitakahn unlocked another feature on his gauntlet. He waved his sword hand in the air and it lit up with the same pale brightness as the moon, serving as a beacon for his company.


    Mitakahn worried his hand was sticking up in the air for too long. He felt vulnerable and that was never a good thing. At this point, most of them were gathered. Anilithion watched in horror as it looked like the night sky snatched Mitakahn from them. The shadow wrapped his hand up and yanked him around. Anilithion and Tron quickly grabbed Mitakahn on both sides to anchor him down but the force above was overpowering.


    Orion barked as the light flashed through the night winds. The night released Mitakahn and spat him back out as dark as everything else. His gauntlet returned to its basic charcoal gray metal form. Mitakahn was shook and not speaking. The winds withdrew and the dense shadow lifted. Bridger and Humbler joined the rest of them rallied around Mitakahn. Orion barked at the dark clouds above them.


    The dog¡¯s barks returned in kind with surrounding howls. Mitakahn recognized the call immediately. There was no mistaking it. He got himself up and braced Orion with a pat on the back. Mitakahn knew he had to focus and found his words.


    ¡°We are surrounded by berserkers, the dark wolves that prey on fear. One bite and you turn into one. Do not let your feelings betray you and look to one another to keep the beast distracted. If anyone has silver weapons now would be the time to use them.¡± Mitakahn clutched his sword and for a brief second, became thankful that he was mugged along the road. If it were not for his broken wrist, the storm, and the dragon rider, he would lack the silver infused sword needed to fight against his current threat.


    ¡°This can¡¯t be happening,¡± Anilithion panicked.


    ¡°What if it¡¯s an illusion?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to take that chance.¡±


    ¡°Stay together,¡± Tron told them, ¡°And follow my lead.¡±


    Bridger took out his bow and arrow and traced the surrounding area for any signs. There was movement between the trees but even his keen eyes could not translate the dark of the night. That was until the toxic light of the berserker¡¯s eyes, red with pale yellow glowing rings, appeared for all to see. Bridger shot his first arrow. They all listened in confusion. The arrow sounded like it never found its mark. There was never a landing impact noise. Bridger shot another and Excelsior joined him, loosing his own arrow into the tree line. They howled again and the clouds parted to reveal the moon.


    ¡°Why haven¡¯t they attacked yet?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not press our blessings.¡±


    The massive, matted, dark furred wolves with red and yellow eyes lurched forward from the trees slowly. They formed a circle around the company. Orion¡¯s tail tucked between his legs. Tron gritted his teeth. No matter what this violent shadow would bring upon them, he would be the one who remained on guard against the berserkers. The circle opened and out from the parted clouds above them spilled the shadow. It churned and landed before them, swirling like a tiny tornado. The men gripped their swords tightly, bracing themselves, but none of them knew what to expect.


    The shadow refined itself back to the form of the woman. It was a chaotic mix. The shadow tightly swirled like moving skin over the lady made of light from the Carbon Terra. Then there was some sort of phase shift. The shadow concentrated and blended together with the light to create a putrid flesh. Features formed from the flesh including long black hair that covered her face.


    The rest of the shadow pinned itself to her like a dress. Fingers stretched out from hands at the end of two arms. They were crooked and the nails were sharp, more closely resembling claws. The jagged hands parted her hair to reveal a still-forming face. The points of the claws scratched open her face in different spots revealing her features.


    Her cold black eyes separated and formed lids that snapped open. Some of the light could still be seen in the iris of her eyes but her pupils were the purest black. Ears and a nose, followed by a chin left only the mouth to come into realization. It curled into the mutating face, producing two rows of crooked teeth and as soon as the mouth broke open into lips a piercing scream was let loose that nearly deafened the entire company. The sheer volume and shrill tone stung the eardrums to a debilitating degree. They all covered their ears and writhed around as the cries intensified.


    It was as if its own cries startled her, and she didn¡¯t know what to do. The night witch stumbled around crazed. Her cries varied between violent and scared. Mitakahn took a deep breath and retook a ready stance, allowing his ears to burn uncovered from the screams as he approached the stunned witch. He took little steps closer and closer until she was practically in reach of him. She bellowed over and snapped her head back to look right at him. Before Tron could see the idiotic risk Mitakahn had taken, he moved into an offensive position against the approaching berserkers, providing no back-up for the prince if things went sideways as they always seem to inevitably do.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡±


    Tron turned back around after Anilithion¡¯s scream to see Mitakahn in a staring match with the witch. She wretched her body, rolled over Mitakahn, and pinned him down. He was almost face to face with the demon. Was this even a god? Mitakahn was helpless. The warlocks had gotten them into a real mess here, and completely broke their promise to be there to guide them through it. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The skin on the witch¡¯s face toiled and churned. Mitakahn could not stop looking at it, being this close. The shadow tried to cover something up. Mitakahn looked into her painful eyes as she continued to scream and twist into him harder. There was light in those eyes begging to get out. This was a god, and something was wrong. The unleashing had been cursed.


    Did they not do the ritual right? Was this just how things would play out when opening any of the godstones? Perhaps Quarrel¡¯s final trick was to curse them upon re-entry into MagnaThora. Or maybe Demascus was right and all those millennia within the NetherRealm warped the gods into nightmare versions of themselves. Mitakahn had to try and break through to her. It was his purpose, being the one who had taken it this far already. He could not doom this being to such torment any longer. Mitakahn wrestled with it and tried to break free. It was harder than he expected. He was beginning to lose control and suffocate under the pressure of the witch.


    Orion tackled the witch off Mitakahn, triggering the circle of berserkers into action. The witch got back to her feet and the berserkers chased his company all around him. She took a breath and let out another repulsive scream. In a fury, she made haste again for Mitakahn. Nothing would stop her this time. He grabbed his sword and focused on brightening his gauntlet for the encounter. The witch attacked Mitakahn and sliced his arms as she wailed her decrepit claws around. Mitakahn winced, but in the heat of the moment, did not realize how deep his wounds were.


    He swung at her head with the sword. She stopped and grabbed the sword, ripping it from Mitakahn¡¯s grip without getting wounded. The witch knocked Mitakahn upside the head with the hilt of his own sword. He crawled back to his feet, scrambling to find his focus. He pulled out his father¡¯s hunting knife and the white metal came back to the gauntlet.


    The witch screamed in frustration and threw the sword down making another lunge for Mitakahn. She grabbed the knife by the blade again. This time, Mitakahn let it go and punched her in the face with the gauntlet. The punch ripped the dark flesh off her face and for a brief moment, before it reformed back over the light, Mitakahn saw her true face and it was beautiful.


    Almost embarrassed the witch called upon the shadow again and it swept in, knocking the company off their feet. The shadow fog pressed to the ground and reeled back in, taking away all of their weapons with it.


    Mitakahn ran back to the group. Right now, his best solution was using the gauntlet to break her free from the shadow-flesh, and that did not sit well with Mitakahn. Although he had learned firsthand that a beating can yield critical results, he did not want to be the one responsible for choosing a hostile approach in this god¡¯s rebirth. There had to be another way.


    Mitakahn pushed himself to think. What could they do without weapons? He demanded a solution from himself. They had nothing but the supplies and personal effects on their backs now. He commanded himself to think of a way, to go back through everything and see if there was a clue in all of this chaos, all the tragedy, all the magic, all the dreams¡­The dreams!


    Mitakahn remembered the vision he had when he touched the boulderock charged with lightning. It had to be a precursor. The witches were practically identical, as if it was a memory from the future. Everything clicked into place and made perfect sense to Mitakahn for one brief moment. The music saved him in the dream. Music tamed the witch and right now, he was staring at the mandolin strapped to Bridger¡¯s back.


    The screams continued as the company fought off the berserkers. The dark wolves possessed an unhealthy obsession towards Orion. Maybe they wanted to turn him the most. The witch broke off into the group. Kunezar was unlucky enough to replace Mitakahn as her prey. It tackled him and tore into his leg. Kunezar cried out in pain. The next scream sounded more like a laugh. Excelsior mounted Orion and got close enough for a jump kick right into the witch, freeing Kunezar who immediately rolled over and clenched his bleeding leg. Two berserkers chased off Orion while the witch crawled over to Excelsior.


    The witch lifted herself up into an almost poised position. The darkness swirled to her dress and hair shining light out from the rest of her. Her bare white feet lifted off the ground as she levitated and threw herself high into the air, only to come down hard on Excelsior.


    Mitakahn helped Bridger unstrap the mandolin from his back as the witch continued its assault on Excelsior.


    ¡°It just keeps getting stronger and stronger.¡±


    ¡°Can you play the melody to Lion¡¯s Share?¡±


    ¡°Now? Are you serious?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to rule out even the most unlikely of weapons.¡±


    ¡°Is this really what it¡¯s come to?¡±


    ¡°Trust me.¡±


    The blistered-over-black witch used its claws to cut into Excelsior¡¯s back. Bridger began to play his mandolin. No one could hear the music over the screams. He tried to get closer. Excelsior kicked the witch off him and as she fell over, she stopped screaming to recuperate. That was when she heard it and all of her attention turned towards Bridger. She made a desperate run for him but as she got close, Mitakahn stood up and began to sing.


    Lord¡¯s mercy for the savannah glades


    A bountiful spread of the lion¡¯s share


    The crimson sun shines while the shadow fades


    Keeping our land in the light and our country fair


    There was a natural boundary. Something was tapping into her essence and getting past the curse. She tried again to attack Bridger, but he transitioned into a chorus with major chords, strumming them as hard as he could, throwing wave after wave of crescendo at the witch. It went from a natural deterrent to completely subduing her. Those who knew the Lion¡¯s Share joined in with Mitakahn, complimenting upper and lower registers, completing the harmony.


    Bridger demonstrated his musical prowess with his own rendition of the nursery song accompanied with ebbs and flows. He took them all on a ride of peaks and valleys along the strings of the Mandolin, plucking with groove and intent. He bridged back from his solo and resolved the melody with the rest of the company. They created a symphony of sound with only a handful of voices and four strings. It broke the hold on her as the dark flesh shattered across her face.


    Her screams wiggled clear of demonic possession. No longer paining the ears, as they turned to whimpers, and soon thereafter silence. She crawled through her malting shadow like they were shallow puddles. The lady of light got to her feet and looked around with new eyes, clean eyes. She radiated light, practically blinding them in the night. No one could get a good look. Orion¡¯s yelp could be heard in the distance, and everyone immediately remembered the berserkers. Thankfully, they were no longer hunting the company. They had surrounded the goddess. Mitakahn thought it through.


    ¡°They want her light,¡± Tron ventured a guess.


    ¡°No, I think it is more than that,¡± Mitakahn said, ¡°I think she is afraid.¡±


    ¡°We have to do something!¡±


    ¡°We have no weapons.¡±


    Excelsior had caught up with Orion, he came back riding the dog with both of his swords in his hands. ¡°All of our swords are over behind the tree line. Go now!¡±


    They scattered into the trees as Orion kicked up pace and charged with Excelsior holding his sword out. The berserkers left too little time for him to help her. They attacked in unison.


    ¡°No!¡± he called out.


    The goddess swatted away the attack with a wave of light that she let loose in all directions. It passed through the berserkers and cleansed them of all darkness. Every single strand of their fur wiped clean of the shadow. From the fringe of their hide to the depths of their fundamental core, the goddess appropriated the very essence of the berserkers.


    The black and mange stripped away from them, leaving behind immaculate white wolves. Mitakahn let the wave pass by him and looked down; the scratches on his arms were gone. He looked over at Excelsior and the same could be said about his back, even Kunezar. Everyone¡¯s wounds from the witch were gone.


    ¡°Ancient demons, born into this world by an abomination, I renounce the dark forces¡¯ claim on you. You deserve better than what you were given, just like me. I return, and so I summon ye to reclaim a destiny much deserved with the light. Be born again anew, my children, as my guardians of white.¡±


    The white wolves calmly aligned behind her. She turned towards Mitakahn¡¯s company. Finally, she seemed ready to address them. Mitakahn could practically fall over from his anticipation, eager to get some much sought after answers. In a flash of light, the goddess and her white wolves vanished off the mountainside. Their exit revealed the rising sun. The night was over.

 Chapter 47: Ancient Omens

    CHAPTER 47 ¨C ANCIENT OMENS


    The company found a trail behind the tree line where they picked up their weapons. It led further up to the top of the mountainside, not down. They were lost and had no choice but to follow it for now. Anilithion looked back. He was impressed at how far up they were. The foot of the mountains was a gradual slope covered in pine trees. Now that they were making their way to the top¡­ the passage was becoming much more narrow and treacherous. The company climbed along the mountain in a straight line. At the back were Anilithion and Tron, and then Humbler, Kunezar, Bridger, Excelsior and Orion, all of which were following Mitakahn.


    ¡°How are we going to get up there?¡± asked Kunezar as he examined the rock-face ahead, ¡°It¡¯s far too steep.¡±


    Excelsior was already busy harnessing Orion with a rope. The dog possessed the vertical jump necessary to scale the cliff-side. He landed on the next level and got a firm grip. Excelsior pulled the rope tight and slowly climbed up the cliff. Each warrior, in turn, grabbed a part of the rope and ascended with the support of Orion¡¯s anchor. They slowly climbed up the large mountain-face, feet nearly dangling off the rock. Mitakahn let everyone pass by him as he stared out at the morning sun, trying to make sense out of what happened last night.


    When Anilithion walked by Mitakahn, he gave him a comforting smile and pat on the back. Now last on the line, he watched as his friends climbed, one by one, over the top edge of the cliff. He looked around. The mountains had turned into a plateau for the last stretch to the top. Finally, he pulled himself up over the corner to see a temple.


    Mitakahn looked around the whole edge of the plateau. There was no possible way up or down, no trail to be found. Without Orion, they would have been stuck. The temple sat on the easternmost peak of this mountain range. It was a glorious sight, glamorously plain. No vines or dirt speckled the walls, not withered nor worn.


    The light tone of gray stone was faultless and polished. The roof was a wide triangle, perfectly symmetrical, with a seal. They could not see it in its entirety right now, as dawn still approached. Surrounding the entire temple were massive, perforated columns. In the twenty columns, sculptures of soldiers wearing rusted bronze armor were carved into the columns facing the group.


    ¡°I guess we find a way inside.¡±


    ¡°Any idea how?¡± asked Bridger as he sat on the stairs in front of the massive columns.


    Before Mitakahn could answer, a pulse from touching the stairs sent a glimmer and a vibration up the steps and through the columns. Eight bronze-armored soldiers opened their eyes revealing darkness as black as night and emerged from the columns. They crackled and crumbled their open tombs as they pulled themselves out of the stone.


    ¡°Um¡­Mitakahn¡­what¡¯s going on?¡± stuttered Humbler as the bronze-armored soldiers re-adjusted after their stony birth.


    They now stood in a line reflecting their fleshy counterparts. Mitakahn unsheathed his sword, gauntlet cascading, and knew that this was not going to be a casual affair. His companions followed suit and armed themselves. The bronze-armored soldiers took out stone axs with bronze-metal blades on one end and sharp stony spikes on the other.


    Bridger shot an arrow at one of them and it bounced off its stony head ineffectively. The bronze-armored company all turned their heads towards Bridger standing in the middle. Any doubt that these animated sculptures were non-confrontational was now obsolete.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s a security system,¡± assumed Mitakahn.


    The line of stone soldiers stepped closer and closer.


    ¡°How are swords supposed to damage stone?¡± worried Anilithion.


    Their shiny hands held their weapons weightlessly, now close enough to detail. They were only but a little longer than a sword¡¯s stroke away, bearing down hard on the hearts of Mitakahn¡¯s company.


    ¡°Just stick together and fight defensively. We¡¯ll figure it out,¡± instructed Tron.


    The bronze-armored soldiers broke rank and attacked the company. They fought around each other one on one. Orion used his cunning to keep the sluggish stone sculpture occupied. Excelsior immediately studied the surrounding terrain for a natural opportunity. Some ways away he saw a large, rounded boulder sitting upon the dirt.


    He crossed his swords, blocked another ax-swipe, and continued to parry slowly making his way over to the boulder. Orion, now feeling opportunistic, ducked low under another swipe of the ax, snuck around to the soldier¡¯s backside, jumped up on his hind legs, and bit into the soldier¡¯s bare neck. Orion nearly cracked his fangs upon contact with the stone, and with a whimper sprinted away from his opponent.


    Meanwhile, Excelsior found himself right beside the boulderock as he intended. He let the soldier collide its ax with his sword and then locked it in with his other sword. When the soldier put all his might into the ax, it broke free, and continued its rage with the most powerful ax-stroke yet. The ax came crashing down towards Excelsior, but he jumped out of the way, putting his sword behind the head of the ax, right in the nook between the spike and the neck of the handle, and escorted the ax deep into the ground.


    Excelsior stomped his foot into the back of the ax, putting it even deeper into the earth. The soldier released one of its hands from the ax and backhanded Excelsior in the face, throwing him to the ground. Excelsior got back up and shook his head in an attempt to hide his own pain. His head felt like it was splitting on the inside. The soldier was still trying to pry its ax out of the ground. Excelsior kicked into a sprint, jumped up, grabbed the soldier¡¯s stone head, and smashed it into the boulder next to them.


    The soldier¡¯s head shattered on one side, and pebble-sized rocks rained down to the floor from what used to be its cheek. Excelsior took a deep breath, his plan nearly worked. He wiped some blood off his lower lip, but before he could properly enjoy the fruits of his effort, he heard the soldier pulling its ax out of the ground. Now the disfigured bronze-armored soldier charged towards Excelsior, unharmed.


    Back at the group, Anilithion and Tron were fighting back to back. Fighting was a loose word to describe what they were really doing, which was mostly just blocking the ax-strikes from the bronze-armored soldiers. The group still had no idea on how to defeat them. Humbler, the only one taller and bigger than the stone soldiers, drove his sword straight into the chest of the soldier. It pierced through the bronze-plated armor, but upon hitting the stone, the sword snapped in half. Humbler was now weaponless.


    He dropped his broken blade, and took dodgy steps backwards, avoiding the soldier¡¯s deathly ax-strokes. Soon Humbler was at the edge of the cliff. The soldier¡¯s advancement pushed Humbler¡¯s heels off the side. But before the soldier could finish off Humbler, Orion came out of nowhere and hit the stone soldier with his shoulder, pushing it off the edge, narrowly avoiding Humbler.


    Orion¡¯s original opponent had caught up to the pup and as it came down on Orion¡¯s back, Humbler caught the ax by the handle. The two struggled for control over the ax, and Humbler saw it as a good time as any to get away from the edge as he pulled back and forth with the soldier. Orion was afraid to help Humbler; after all, he only had a couple of weapons in his arsenal, one of which, his bite, was nearly shattered on his last attempt. So, he looked for his master, Excelsior, to check to see if he was unharmed. Before he could find him, the ground quaked in front of Orion and up from it came the bronze-armored soldier who he tackled off the mountainside. There was no beating these guards. It was virtually impossible. It was like fighting the earth beneath their feet.


    Bridger had retired his arrow shooting but kept out his bow to use as a shield along with his sword. He was also struggling to defeat the stone-clad opponents. Everything he was coming up with was failing. Bridger resorted to a strategy of slowing chiseling away the soldier¡¯s stony flesh. Stroke after stroke broke through the bronze armor and was slowly working its way into the soldier¡¯s ax arm. But it was like cutting down a tree with a pocket dagger. It would take Bridger all day just to cut off the soldier¡¯s arm. Even still, this formula served as the best idea Bridger could come up with, so for the time being he chipped away, until he could think of a better solution.


    Kunezar and Mitakahn were staying close, for they were in the same predicament as everyone else. They had no clue as to what to do with these guards. Mitakahn was quite sure now that this was a defense mechanism of the temple. His reasoning was simple¡­they were impossible to defeat, yet not very aggressive attackers. Mitakahn just had to find the key.


    He had to think of the one thing that everyone else overlooked. He examined his opponent up and down. The bronze armor was not very strong. It looked almost like it was only for aesthetic purposes. Mitakahn tossed his sword to his right hand and lunged his plated fist at the chest of the stone guard. Mitakahn¡¯s metal-coated knuckles broke clean through the ceremonial armor causing it to fall to the floor. He tried the same armored punch, but his gauntlet bounced right off the guard. The stone was much more difficult to damage. So, if the armor wasn¡¯t stronger than what it was protecting, what was the point of having it? Mitakahn was just frustrating himself now.


    He glanced over at Kunezar. They both looked very similar, performing the same repetitive moves to keep the stone soldiers at bay. Mitakahn continued studying the stone soldier, besides the bronze and stone, the only other substance that the soldier consisted of was its dark shadowy eyes. Then Mitakahn thought of something. He slid his father¡¯s hunting knife out from his belt, and on the next collision of sword and ax Mitakahn thrust the knife into one of the soldier¡¯s eyes. As he pulled the knife out, the eye swirled up and exploded, bursting the bronze-armored stone soldier into a million tiny pieces.


    ¡°THE EYES! AIM FOR THE EYES!¡± screamed out Mitakahn without a moment¡¯s hesitation.


    Kunezar reacted first and before the stone guard could connect with his ax-stroke, Kunezar jammed his sword into the soldier¡¯s eye. Just like Mitakahn¡¯s opponent, Kunezar¡¯s swirled up and exploded, nearly turning to dust. Bridger swiftly pulled an arrow from his quiver, and with a backspin plunged the arrowhead into the stone guard¡¯s eye, pulled it out, spun back around, loaded the arrow in his bow with the soldier exploding behind him and shot the arrow into the eye of Orion¡¯s opponent.


    Through the dust of Orion¡¯s vanquished foe, Bridger could see Humbler dueling with his opponent. He took the ax away from the stone soldier, snapped it in half over his leg, dropped the head, and shoved the long broken prong into the soldier¡¯s eye. Bridger was slightly taken aback by Humbler¡¯s primal fighting style, but then brushed it off, figuring he would be fighting exactly the same way without a weapon. Tron and Anilithion, blocking from their attacker¡¯s axes, spun around each other, keeping their backs together, and lunged their swords into the other¡¯s opponent¡¯s eyes. All the stone guards were now defeated, all except Excelsior¡¯s. When the group looked around they could not find him. Orion was the most worried of all.


    The group quickly scattered in search of Excelsior. But before they could get too far, Bridger shouted out, ¡°I found him!¡±


    The group came together around Bridger, Orion rushing ahead of everyone, to meet up with Excelsior.


    ¡°We tried to find you,¡± said Kunezar as Orion rubbed his furry head up against Excelsior¡¯s side.


    ¡°We found out a way to destroy the temple guards,¡± informed Anilithion.


    ¡°All you had to do was stab their eyes,¡± explained Mitakahn.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s one way¡­¡± scoffed Excelsior. The group looked around at each other and had a laugh.


    ¡°Why¡­what did you do?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°Go take a look for yourselves,¡± replied Excelsior.


    The group walked towards where Excelsior had come from, while Excelsior and Orion went back over to the temple. After going down a short ridge, the group came upon a small pond. The pond had a quiet stream coming out of it that led to a waterfall that dropped water all the way to the bottom of the mountain range. Mitakahn, Bridger, Tron, Anilithion, Humbler, and Kunezar walked up to the side of the pond and looked beneath the water¡¯s surface. There, standing on the pond¡¯s floor, was Excelsior¡¯s opponent, the bronze-armored soldier. Water-logged into paralysis, it did not move.


    ¡°Sunk like a stone, clever,¡± commented Bridger. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Just like Excelsior, to find a way of his own unlike any other¡­¡± remarked Tron.


    ¡°We should get back to the temple¡­¡± rounded up Mitakahn.


    Everyone turned back towards the temple except for Bridger. He took out his bow and one arrow. Bridger used all his strength to pull the string on his bow as tight as he could. He twisted a loop with the string and haloed one end of his bow. The string was so tight it was cutting into the flesh on his hand, nearly drawing blood. But he successfully tightened the bow.


    He pulled the arrow back with all his might until he could not bear to hold the arrow anymore. Bridger released the arrow and it cut through the pond¡¯s surface without losing much velocity. The submerged arrow found its target and made contact with the sunken bronze-armored stone soldier¡¯s eye. The eye swirled and exploded, and Bridger watched as the surface of the pond surged water into the air like a geyser erupting. The last temple guard was obliterated, and Bridger rushed back to catch up with everyone else.


    The group returned to the front of the temple to find Excelsior and Orion sitting on the steps; Excelsior petting the hair on Orion¡¯s head, and Orion licking a scrape on Excelsior¡¯s knee. The group gathered on the steps and when the last of them landed on the bottom step, the stone columns trembled and slowly lowered into the earth.


    ¡°Looks like another security system,¡± said Humbler.


    ¡°Good insight, Humbler,¡± said Bridger sarcastically.


    The group stared at the wall; there were no seams or cracks, no doors, or windows. Mitakahn rubbed the wall with his palm. It was cold. He pushed and he wiped its surface, but nothing happened. Again and again, he tried pushing different spots, all feeble attempts. Mitakahn walked back down to the bottom of the steps where the company was waiting, ¡°We better set up camp, I¡¯m tired and I can¡¯t think of anything.¡±


    The group took out their camping equipment. When they were finished setting up, they all sat down around a fire.


    ¡°We should try to get some sleep before the sun makes it impossible.¡±


    ¡°We could all use the rest.¡±


    Finally, relaxed, Mitakahn got to thinking about the front wall. He scratched his chin as he thought. That is when he realized his beard was longer than ever. It had been several weeks since he left Zepathorum, and now his scruffiness was a testament to his exile. He combed his fingers through his beard and thought about his father, twirling the edges of his chin to a point.


    Mitakahn thought about when he was a child. King Theomitus would put little Mitakahn on his shoulders all of the time. Mitakahn remembered playing with his father¡¯s beard, most notably when he would give shoulder-rides to his younger cousins, Avalahna and Micilahnya, and the princess¡¯ fingers would replicate the same subconscious twirling. It all kind of reduced down to the same sentiment. His fondness for facial hair had emerged in adulation of his father, at an early age.


    Around the circle, Mitakahn was positioned so the front wall was directly in view. He had no idea what the conversation around the fire was about; he was too busy looking past them, rattling off ideas in his head.


    ¡°Humbler, you lost your sword in the fight?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± replied Humbler simply, ¡°Must you always have it out for me, Bridge?¡±


    ¡°Relax¡­If you want you can borrow my sword for the time being, I do better with the bow,¡± suggested Bridger.


    ¡°Much appreciated, but I¡¯ll make do,¡± declined Humbler.


    ¡°Going to crush skulls with your bare hands?¡± mocked Kunezar.


    ¡°Of course, stone or bone, Kones¡± Humbler put on the regional accent of his people, one he trained very hard to lose, ¡°I¡¯ll grind them to dust in me palms-¡±


    ¡°IT¡¯S US!¡± interrupted Mitakahn.


    ¡°What?¡± a couple of them said at once.


    ¡°It¡¯s us¡­Why do you think there were eight guards waiting for us when there are exactly eight of us,¡± eluded Mitakahn.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± answered Tron for the whole group.


    Excelsior sat quietly, sharpening his swords and let the prince continue his train of thought.


    ¡°How does that get us inside, Mitakahn?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°I propose that we all go try to put our hands on the wall. Altogether, at the same time¡­¡± recommended Mitakahn.


    ¡°That sounds too easy,¡± Bridger said, putting forth his opinion.


    ¡°It¡¯s worth a try,¡± added Tron.


    So, the group got up from the fire and went back over to the temple. They all stood in a line, like they were when they confronted the stone guards, and put their hands forward. At the same time, they all pressed their palms on the stone wall. Nothing happened. Everyone except Mitakahn turned back to walk down the stairs and return to camp.


    ¡°Mitakahn,¡± said Anilithion when he noticed Mitakahn had stayed, ¡°It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± Mitakahn cleared his throat and said louder, ¡°I think we all need to do it!¡±


    ¡°We just tried that,¡± said Kunezar.


    ¡°It¡¯s late, Mitakahn. We¡¯ll try something else after we all get some rest,¡± reasoned Tron.


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t wait any longer! I have to get in there! We didn¡¯t try everyone¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Bridger was starting to get frustrated.


    ¡°He means Orion,¡± interpreted Excelsior, ¡°He thinks we should try with Orion.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± scoffed Bridger.


    ¡°There were eight guards,¡± repeated Anilithion, supporting his cousin.


    ¡°How ridiculous is that?¡± seconded Kunezar.


    ¡°If it doesn¡¯t work we call it quits and try again at noon,¡± mediated Tron, being the group¡¯s voice of reason.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± said everyone except Excelsior and Mitakahn.


    Once again they all returned to the wall, this time with Orion at the end of the line next to Excelsior, who was right next to Tron, then Anilithion, Mitakahn, Kunezar, Humbler, and Bridger. They all placed their right hands on the wall, except for Mitakahn who placed his left hand, and Orion jumped up on his hind legs after a look from Excelsior and landed his front paws on the wall.


    The wall sunk in where they pressed against it. The ripples swam to every corner of the surface and turned the stone into a mirror. The group took their hands away from the churning wall as various swirls emitted from the center. The swirls shot out from the middle spiral and showcased before each one of them, exactly where their mirrored eyes were; sixteen tiny whirlpools for sixteen eyes.


    The first two were before Mitakahn. They formed into shimmering crystal spheres. One was pure white and the other was pure black. Together their static blended them together to form a perfect gray. As the gray formed next to him, down the line formed two red crystals, two orange crystals, two yellow crystals, two green crystals, two blue crystals, two indigo crystals, and finally two violet crystals: each warrior displaying a different color and representing a different part of the spectrum. The colors all swirled together to create a spinning rainbow that fluidly blended together into a reflection. The wall trembled and shook like the pillars before and pulled up from the floor. They marveled at the temple¡¯s miraculous mechanics. The giant mirrored wall vanished into the short roof as it was being raised.


    Behind the wall were two gigantic stone doors. The doors were so big they were almost the entire size of the wall, and practically looked like the wall had now split into two halves. But they were just doors; they were made of slightly darker stone and outlined in very dark chrome metal. There were no door knobs or handles. There was only an airtight crack down the middle. A loud snap seemed to have released a concentrated gust of air through the crack, activating the temple. The giant slab doors started to move slowly, they peeled back and slid open.


    The company stood in awe. Mitakahn stepped inside the doorway. A spark ignited in the front corner of the room and fell into a canal of oil, lighting torches along the temple walls. The rest of the company followed behind Mitakahn and entered the temple. They split up and looked around the room. It was not a terribly big place. Large murals and curtains covered the four walls. Within the room were large wooden tables with unknown treasures resting on them. They were all too afraid to pick up or touch anything in fear of setting off a trap or initiating another test.


    ¡°Look at the paintings, look at this one, it looks like the legendary battle at the southlands gate,¡± pointed out Kunezar. They all scanned the stories told by the murals on the walls.


    ¡°I think I know where we are,¡± Excelsior blurted out.


    ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°This has to be the Temple of Virtue.¡±


    Mitakahn began putting it together in his head while they talked it out aloud.


    ¡°The Temple of Virtue was built by Patronalus.¡±


    ¡°Which means¡­¡±


    ¡°The FireSword could be here!¡± Mitakahn proclaimed.


    Everyone started looking around for any artifacts or weapons. Anilithion noticed there were ten torches that did not light like the others. He grabbed one of the lit torches on the wall and began to ignite the remaining ten.


    ¡°Everything in the room kind of points to the door right here,¡± said Mitakahn, thinking out loud.


    Tron and Bridger walked up on both sides of Mitakahn to examine the spot he was talking about.


    ¡°There¡¯s no door, Mitakahn,¡± corrected Bridger.


    ¡°I know, but there has to be, look, there¡¯s no shelves or paintings here.¡±


    ¡°Everything in this room does seem to point to this spot...¡±


    Bridger walked away in search of another door or room. But the room was enclosed. In fact, when Bridger turned around from where Mitakahn was standing he had noticed that the front doors had closed and resealed. In better judgment, he decided not to say anything. That way, no one would get worried or claustrophobic, especially Excelsior, and they could all concentrate on the task at hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to find the FireSword here, Mitakahn,¡± admitted Kunezar.


    ¡°Have a little faith,¡± snapped Tron back at Kunezar, ¡°We just got here.¡±


    ¡°It looks like no one has been here for a very long time.¡±


    As they tried to figure out the next puzzle, Anilithion lit the last of the ten torches. The room turned on, and the floor began to separate into a sequence of pieces.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening!?¡±


    The pieces rotated around the room and sank into the ground, one by one, as if the entire room was a gigantic locking mechanism.


    ¡°What did you do, Anithilion?¡±


    Each warrior looked at the other with a face of terror and uncertainty.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±


    Mitakahn, the only one standing on a part of the floor that was not detached or moving, watched as each one of his friends fell into the dark abyss of the temple.


    Excelsior immediately jumped off his piece, onto Orion¡¯s landing, and grabbed a strong hold of Orion as they fell with their collapsing platform.


    ¡°No!¡± screamed Mitakahn and then he turned to face Tron as they both knew¡­ he was the next one to fall into the darkness, ¡°Tron¡­¡±


    After that, Kunezar and Bridger¡¯s pieces fell simultaneously. Humbler tried to cling onto the walls, but he couldn¡¯t keep a hold for long. One of the torches he was holding onto snapped under the pressure and his platform cracked, falling into the darkness. The treasures and artifacts stayed stuck on the tables as their pieces of the floor snapped and plunged into the abyss. The last piece, which Anilithion stood upon with quivering legs, was orbiting around the now empty room, about to pass Mitakahn.


    ¡°¡­Ani, when the platform passes¡­ jump onto mine and I¡¯ll catch you!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can, cousin, it might not get close enough.¡±


    Just then, the platform started to sink like the others. It passed by Mitakahn, as Anilithion¡¯s fingers slipped by Mitakahn¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Jump Ani! Jump quick!¡±


    The platform made a loud snap and Anilithion plummeted into the darkness with the rest of the fallen company. Mitakahn slid his back down the wall and sat defeated on the floor, thinking all of his companions were dead.


    ¡°What have I done!?¡± he chastised himself. He buried his head into his arms and grieved inconsolably. Now that he was all alone he had no problem crying like a child.


    ¡°I just led my friends to their death! I¡¯m such an idiot. How could I be so foolish to believe this would actually work? What is wrong with me!?¡±


    Mitakahn was sick of himself. He wanted to cause himself harm, to do some real damage, to suffer like the rest of his company just did. So, he slammed his head back repeatedly on the stone to feel pain, to feel something. The wall behind him clicked and slid up. Mitakahn was right all along.


    There was a secret door.

 Chapter 48: Turning Point

    CHAPTER 48 ¨C TURNING POINT


    ¡°We¡¯re okay Mitakahn! There¡¯s another room down here,¡± a voice yelled from the abyss, sounding very much like his cousin¡¯s, ¡°We¡¯re looking for a way out now.¡±


    Mitakahn stood up, turned around, and looked into the new room that he had no other choice but to walk into.


    ¡°Here we go¡­¡± he thought aloud as he took a deep breath and walked into the unknown darkness.


    The room had no window to the outside and no lamps. Mitakahn walked in and the door closed behind him. When the door completely shut it was pitch black. One light opened up out of the ceiling and shined down on a statue. The statue seemed to be the only thing in the room. It looked to Mitakahn like a window capturing the natural light from the sky.


    It was a light so bright, the ray emitting from the window kept the same rectangular shape all the way down to the statue. As if, it was standing under a box spotlight. He slowly walked over to the statue. It was a stone sculpture of a warrior lifting up his right arm. The statue looked like it was supposed to be holding a sword high in the air, but there was no sword in his hand.


    ¡°I know who this is,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°It is the great warrior, Patronalus. The first man to become a god,¡± echoed a soft, angelic voice from the darkness.


    Mitakahn quickly turned around, the voice sounded all too familiar.


    ¡°Show yourself!¡± he screamed as he lifted his sword into the air, the tip cutting through the spotlight.


    Just then, the light from the window was pulled down from the ceiling right next to the statue, revealing the windowless wall behind it. The orb of light grew so bright it overwhelmed Mitakahn. The light forced Mitakahn to drop to his knees, release his sword, and cover his eyes with the gauntlet. Even covered it was intense, comparable to standing on a balcony on the sun but without the heat. Mitakahn heard surges and discharges.


    He felt the light dividing and shooting across the room into slow thick beams. The smaller beams cascaded to the corners of the room, casting their moving shadows onto Mitakahn. They each landed and took the form of white wolves. The glowing wolves sat with their front paws between their hind paws, chests out proudly, lighting the room. The large beam receded right in front of Mitakahn. As it reeled itself in, it took the form of a woman.


    ¡°You have made it so far on your journey, prince. Finding a way where so many others before you have failed, and after everything, after losing your father, the exile, the broken wrist, I attacked you. You of all people, the only man willing to free me, my savior. I cannot tell you how sorry I am.¡±


    Mitakahn wanted to tell her she had no reason to be sorry, but he was having trouble speaking. He succumbed to the unexplainable voice, a voice so comforting that it made him feel like he would never suffer from pain or grief again as long as he was in its presence. He opened his eyes, but the rapid change in light left red spots riddling his corneas, he was nearly blinded.


    ¡°You know me?¡± asked Mitakahn, rubbing his eyes to regain sight.


    ¡°You are Prince Mitakahn Arkenoir of the Pride, son of the great King Theomitus,¡± announced the Woman.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± questioned Mitakahn.


    ¡°I am Epiphany, Goddess of Harmony and Love.¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s eyes cleared, and he adjusted to the light in the room. He looked up and could now see, in full detail, the stunning beauty of Epiphany. The only way to describe her properly was the most beautiful woman in MagnaThora. It was almost unbearable, like that of the light still shining just beneath her skin.


    He wondered how he would ever view women the same way again. The effects of her beauty changed the world around her, making it a brighter place for it. Long brunette hair cascaded down her back and looked like it was constantly changing slight hints of various colors with every new shade of light that bounced off it. Her hair was flawless, but so was the rest of her. Epiphany had perfectly symmetrical facial features, a clear definition, proud stature, immaculate skin-tone, and eloquently curved hips.


    Her face was a masterpiece: rosy cheeks, an infectiously bright smile, and extravagant eyes, with irises encapsulating every color in the world, entangling, and fusing together in a spiral around her pupils. She had on a pure white gown glowing around the edges with the resonance of the light left over from her emergence. Her hair smelled like spring dew and fell freely down the back of her white gown with one majestic braid in the middle. And she stood barefoot, effortlessly compelling the natural side of her beauty. Mitakahn looked up at her in wonder and awe, mesmerized at her appeal. He was speechless. Epiphany was beautiful beyond compare. She was most glamorous and truly enchanting.


    Mitakahn stammered, ¡°I can¡¯t believe you were inside that thing all along.¡±


    ¡°It took me some time to break free of Quarrel¡¯s spell, even after being freed from the Incapsulate. All that time in the nether world poisoned me rotten. I must admit, I did not see that coming. It was the music that brought me back, you clever man. Finding the harmony in rhythm and sound was the key. If not for you, I would have suffered immeasurably. I cannot doom my brothers and sisters to the same fate. I must find them and help them once I regain all my strength.¡±


    ¡°How did you get trapped in the Incapsulate Impernums?¡±


    ¡°They knew where to find me, and they had the motivation. All of their plans could have been unhinged if I had uncovered my beloved¡¯s heart. Poor Apophas did not handle my rejection well. Yes, it is all coming back to me now. I did not mean to reject the would-be-king. I simply wanted to stay on MagnaThora. Now he is gone, and I live on. I was the victim but here I stand, and he is just a memory, funny how things like that work out.¡±


    ¡°I understand what you mean,¡± Mitakahn nodded as he stared at his left hand.


    Epiphany followed his gaze, ¡°Ah yes, such a fine gift you received from the dragon rider. She still thinks about you.¡± Epiphany closed her eyes. Mitakahn observed the goddess trying to channel her power. ¡°I can still feel her, but her light weakens as she flies beyond the southern gate. Tell me, will you go after her when all of this is over?¡±


    ¡°If I make it through what¡¯s to come¡­¡± Mitakahn took a good look at the silver scars on his hand, remembering everything that happened along the road, ¡°it will be the first thing I do.¡±


    Epiphany smiled and her eyes twinkled. The sensation coursed through her body and renewed a feeling she had missed for a very long time.


    ¡°Allow me to help you on your quest, savennoy.¡±


    Mitakahn tried to refuse out of honor but as the goddess approached him, he started to lose his words again.


    ¡°Savennoy?¡±


    Epiphany leaned in close, took his wrist in one hand, and pointed at it from above with the other. ¡°It means my savior in the old tongue.¡±


    Mitakahn felt a jolt and the gauntlet activated covering his left hand in shining silver. Epiphany drew a circle in the air with her finger above the gauntlet, making it brighter and brighter. While continuing the motion, she lowered her finger to the gauntlet and touched it. The light flashed at its brightest upon touch and receded. Epiphany took a couple steps back.


    ¡°Point north.¡±


    Mitakahn obeyed her command.


    ¡°Point west.¡±


    Mitakahn obeyed again.


    ¡°Now point south.¡±


    Right as Mitakahn pointed his gauntlet south, it went from a shiny gray to a glowing white ivory.


    ¡°What did you do to it?¡±


    ¡°Nothing really, just gave its pulse a beacon.¡±


    ¡°Will it lead me to Zora?¡±


    ¡°From whence it came. That is until you find her.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°It will always lead you to what your heart desires most.¡±


    Mitakahn blushed and didn¡¯t know what to say next. Epiphany smiled at the young man. She reminisced over his innocence, thinking quite literally that it had been a long time since she saw this familiar awkward behavior in humans.


    ¡°Just like a man to be able to stare down certain death at the other end of his sword but not see what¡¯s right in front of him when it comes to the opposite sex. Man¡¯s true biggest weakness.¡±


    ¡°You have some sense of humor.¡±


    ¡°You would too if you were my age.¡±


    ¡°My mother, who worships you, taught me enough to know never to ask a woman her age. So, I will simply ask¡­ What was it like in the beginning?¡±


    ¡°She sounds like a strong woman.¡±


    ¡°The strongest.¡±


    ¡°It is hard to put into words¡­ volatile, temperamental? We learned very hard lessons in the early days. You humans take all this quiet for granted but it took a lot to get to this point, a lot of work and a lot of sacrifice.¡±


    ¡°We still tell our young the legends of how you saved humanity from the primordial fires, the endless winters, and the storming winds.¡±


    ¡°I bet they don¡¯t mention flying stardragons into the sun to end the endless winter only to bring about the storms that devoured the world.¡±


    ¡°There are many renditions¡­maybe a different kingdom might.¡±


    ¡°Man has evolved so much. I can hear it in your voice, feel it amongst your companions in the temple cellar, and even greater MagnaThora. You are not the same mortals I once knew. When I regain my full strength and embrace society, will they accept my word as the word of God?¡±


    Mitakahn thought long and hard. He understood the question. Even after all he had seen he still had his doubts. If she was in fact a god, would his brain not explode at the very sound of her omnipotent voice? Would he not be overwhelmed by awe at her very existence? And yet, perhaps it was his destiny to be a man amongst gods. His heart was in tune with the fates, and so he responded.


    ¡°They will come to trust you as I have.¡±


    For some strange reason, Mitakahn felt comfortable amongst the presence of divinity, as if he had experienced their intervention some time before.


    ¡°Good, because I am here to help. I can show you how to complete your quest.¡±


    ¡°How do I save my kingdom?¡± asked Mitakahn earnestly, as he gave way to his instincts. He spoke to Epiphany like a friend or loved-one; almost like an equal, not like a sacred queen.


    ¡°In time, brave hero, everything you seek to know will come in time.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Then what is it¡­that I came here to learn?¡±


    The Legend of Patronalus


    The Second Kingdom War or as common folk called it, The War of Many Kings waged all across MagnaThora before gathering on one front. That front was the same location where it all began, before the fallen southern gate. There were few champions for good. Victory seemed unattainable until one warrior who would change the fate of MagnaThora forever, a vessel of cosmic forces, entered the fight.


    An epic battle of terrible proportions ensued. Warriors came from every nation, constantly reinforcing the lines, but they did not work together. They could not seem to defeat the evil; they could only prevent it from spreading. The battle went on for days, and the warriors grew tired, but the evil did not stop coming. There was little hope left. Our hero found himself at the frontline, one of the only men still not fatigued or wary of warfare. One warrior with wisping blond hair subdued under his helmet.


    Next to him were the great warriors of his time. Royal names and famous lords surrounded him, but he did not know their titles. To him, he merely fought amongst fellow men, and that was all he needed to worry about, in the heat of battle. He cut down enemy after enemy, specializing in the ones trying to stab his allies in the back.


    An ancient cult of Necromancers surrounded King Agnoralles of the Canine Kingdom. The Rebel Canine King awaited a final death stroke from his enemy, Emperor Zordragon. Under the dark hood a smile appeared as the armored monstrosity drooled over the prospect of obliterating another founding house before him, a true terror to behold. Slowly the dark dragon god was using its influences over man to cut the tether between the wolf god and his worshippers.


    There was no stopping the Dragon Emperor who had become more twisted and ruthless than ever. No man could best the sorcerer tyrant in hand to hand combat. He was far too powerful for any man or king. It was then, that the brave new warrior stepped forth and, in doing so, beyond any warrior before him, finding it in himself to give everything to the pursuit of good and virtue, even if it meant his life.


    Patronalus raised his sword into the air, as the enemy¡¯s sword came crashing down. The clouds thundered, and lightning shot out from the stormy sky, hitting his sword, and lighting it aflame. It was with this fire that the first man ascended to a higher form of existence. The majestic firespell finely covered his entire body.


    The enemy¡¯s sword sliced down into Patronalus but he appeared to be unharmed. Everything slowed down. He looked at himself as the sword passed through his body, phasing through his flesh. He then looked at King Agnoralles, even at Emperor Zordragon, none of whom could believe it, and finally he looked at his new fiery sword. His steel sword was gone and replaced by the Crucifire Sword shining before him in blazon glory. It cut clean through the Emperor, still with a dull stare, destroyed at the re-emergence of the legendary sword. Malohrin Zordragon¡¯s body crumbled to the ground as it burned to a pile of ash. Patronalus vanquished the mighty tyrant. The fire blared in the faces of all opposing foes, consumed by the inferno.


    The hero of the Crucifire Sword now led a new front against the darkness. Patronalus, along with his comrades-in-cosmic-arms, pushed the evil back behind the gates, tipping the stalemate over in their favor. The kingdoms of free man won the battle and the war. He had saved all of humanity. Patronalus was perfectly in tune with the cosmos and now knew what he must do.


    He looked at the clouds as they broke. Behind them was the sun that lit his mighty torch. It was landing on the horizon. Patronalus walked away from the battlefield, into the sun, he looked back at the people he saved. The First Paragon, half-man half-god, the ascended one, wielder of the high seraph blade, disappeared in the sun¡¯s brilliance, never to be seen again, but that did not stop him from performing his many miracles all across MagnaThora.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°He did all of that¡­and he wasn¡¯t an heir or a prince or anything. All of the books said the sword was only meant for a king who is worthy¡­¡± Mitakahn said.


    ¡°It depends how you define worthy. Words and interpretations can be tricky. What are the specific standards of a king from different kingdoms with different laws or different eras for that matter?¡±


    ¡°He was chosen by the sword, by MagnaThora herself.¡±


    ¡°Or he could have been a lost heir, an unnamed prince from a forgotten kingdom. Time will never tell us the truth. Patronalus became the fully realized form of man in that hour and ascended to another realm. If I go to him in the Divine City, I can never return. It is a one way trip. To return would be not without great cost.¡±


    ¡°I would never ask that of you,¡± said Mitakahn. ¡°The FireSword is the moral of the legend.¡±


    ¡°Correct¡± replied Epiphany.


    ¡°If this is all real.. then¡­that means what I saw happen to Caliber will come true! I must get back before it is too late.¡±


    ¡°You did not come all this way just for verification of danger.¡±


    ¡°Then what must I do?¡±


    ¡°I think you already know¡­¡±


    ¡°The FireSword¡­ but if it is not here in the statue¡¯s hand, where can I find it?¡±


    ¡°Long ago the sword was put back on this earth. Patronalus, lord of the gods, knew the darkness would inevitably return. So, he hid the FireSword in a blatant, yet subtle location.¡±


    ¡°That does not help me, kind goddess. I need more.¡±


    ¡°Follow your heart,¡± She repeated to him once again with a smile.


    The prince thought for a while, ¡®blatant, yet subtle¡­¡¯ and then it hit him, ¡°¡­Mount Fire! That is where the sword is hidden.¡±


    ¡°You have very keen insight, Mitakahn,¡± confirmed Epiphany, ¡°It will serve you well.¡±


    ¡°And when I do find the sword of fire, you said it yourself in the tale, it is meant for a king, part man, part god¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you asking me, Mitakahn?¡±


    ¡°Will it bring back my father?¡±


    Epiphany got down next to Mitakahn and placed her hands over his. ¡°Mitakahn, I know how badly you yearn for your father¡¯s return¡­¡±


    Mitakahn broke when she said that. Something about Epiphany¡¯s tone made Mitakahn feel like they had been together his entire life, old friends. She cut right to the core of him, and he did not feel the need to put on a brave front for her. A goddess¡¯ effect. And so, he sobbed before her. The goddess still smiled warmly and caressed his back, continuing.


    ¡°¡­And I will never tell you to lose hope. You must find strength without him. There is no denying that the sword is meant for a king. Even lost, Patronalus became one of the most legendary kings of all time. But did you come here to save your kingdom or bring your father back?¡±


    Mitakahn had a brief feeling like he had to make this decision before. He knew what the right answer was, but deep down he also knew a damnable truth, he was selfish. Mitakahn breached a part of his soul that he always kept in the dark; one side of him that he never wanted to admit was there. Mitakahn thought about trying to lie to her, but she was a god, who¡¯s to say she wasn¡¯t reading his mind right now? So, he decided to be brutally honest.


    ¡°I would watch the entire world burn, just to get him back.¡±


    For a brief second, while Mitakahn waxed on unbridled, he felt a purity he never knew before. It quickly vanished as the weight of the world returned. Through its lens he worried if this new honesty made him a villain. Epiphany chimed in, preventing Mitakahn from further mental spiral.


    ¡°And what kind of world would that be to come back to?¡±


    ¡°One my father would be disappointed with.¡±


    ¡°So what good is a notion like that?¡±


    Mitakahn felt a new low. What the goddess must think of him right now. He searched for a different way to convey his feelings. ¡°He was taken before his time was up. If I could pay for his resurrection myself, I would.¡±


    ¡°So, in that new world there would only be a crisply burnt Mitakahn?¡±


    ¡°I would wish no harm to others. Yes, only me.¡±


    Epiphany smiled, ¡°Not many fathers and sons would share that same sentiment. It is against the natural order. The old die while the young survive. You hold your father close, a standing vigil. Allow me to reassure you. In all my time walking the lands of MagnaThora, of all the men and women I¡¯ve met and gotten to know, I have never come across a single human without the darkness in them.


    ¡°To be human is to have such thoughts of hopelessness. It is my divine right to make sure the flame of hope never diminishes. I am a servant of man, not a ruler. And you, my dear, have nothing to fear. Your love for your father is great and it will grow in time and become something else entirely, but you mustn¡¯t let the darkness prevail, not within nor without.¡±


    ¡°Will I be able to make it all the way to Mount Fire and back before the attack?¡±


    ¡°Once again, only you can determine that.¡±


    ¡°Is there anything more that you can tell me?¡±


    ¡°The darkness, Mitakahn¡­ I fear the Age of Solstice will soon be upon us.¡±


    ¡°You mean that prophecy is real?¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, the Quintennial Calendera is long extinct like my kind? Cursed. Well, you see, your ancestors were the ones who coupled weeks into months, coupled decades into ages, and named them all after us. In doing so, they put forth certain things into motion as i the way of MagnaThora and the rule of the Supreme Dichotomy.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, this is too much for you. I should stop.¡±


    ¡°No, please, I need to know.¡±


    ¡°We were all created by the Supreme Dichotomy. Think of them like my parents. They clashed together when the world first clashed together and made all of the life on it. There is a part of it in all of us too. They are extremely concerned with the concept of covenants and transactions. So, when man began to write down the history of me and my sibling¡¯s acts in the form of ages, fire, winter, storms, and Equinox for equilibrium, the Supreme Dichotomy bound a covenant and sealed the fate of the next age in a prophecy.


    ¡°Now here is the important part, we the gods, the planet, and you humans all live together in harmony and symbioses, right? Well, when Quarrel trapped us he took away our power and influence over everything, including the Supreme Dichotomy. We tempered and balanced them since our inception. In our absence they will become unhinged and there will be a tipping point, a point of no return. The time of balance will be over, and the Supreme Dichotomy will split forever bringing either an epoch of unknown truth or endless darkness.


    ¡°I presumed the demigods are the reason it has not gotten that far already. If any of them fall that could be it. Which is why I worry about the darkness growing in the south. It inhibits my abilities. Its old evil, the same that my beloved king sacrificed himself to eradicate, the same evil Patronalus fought against, and now it¡¯s our turn, except something is different¡­


    ¡°There is a new influence that I simply cannot read, and it terrifies me. The mystery of the south grows behind a wall of darkness and soon it will spill over onto all of MagnaThora. You cannot just defeat it. You must vanquish it once and for all. I will help you as much as I can, but ultimately it will be up to you and your friends. The people you have surrounded yourself with possess the potential for greatness, each in their own way will change the world. In order to unlock your combined potential, we must make contact with the godwolf Entehii. There are such few allies left. Once I regain my full strength I will begin my quest to galvanize the gods, and recover my brothers and sisters. What you have done here is remarkable and the first step towards MagnaThora¡¯s salvation.


    ¡°This is the spark that lights the fire. So far, you have held true. Keep it up and you will make it to the end. Whenever you need me look to the stars. Find me in the stars for solace and resolve. Good-bye, savennoy, go with the love and support of all MagnaThora¡­¡±


    The white wolves howled in unison. The goddess slowly grew bright once again, enveloping the wolves. Before it became too bright to bear, it began to blink sporadically. The sparkling light dissolved leaving Mitakahn alone in the dark. A door on the opposite side of the room from where Mitakahn had entered opened.


    Mitakahn took a deep breath and digested all the information that he had just learned. It was a lot to take in. All of his worst fears were confirmed. There was so much to think about now. If he could not go back to his country, how could he warn Ady¨¢na that the threat was real? If only he still had Chronis¡­ Even if he could get a warning back to Zepathorum by way of one of his companions, the bureaucrats would just condemn Ady¨¢na as they did him. Mitakahn needed to concentrate on the task-at-hand, and that task was the FireSword. All he had to do was get to Mount Fire.


    Easier said than done, Mount Fire was on the other side of MagnaThora, and once he finally got to Mount Fire how would he know where to find the sword? He wanted to scream out for Epiphany to come back, half because he wanted to see her beauty one more time, and half to ask her what to do once he got to Mount Fire. But he already knew what her answer would be, something like¡­¡±You already know the answer,¡± or, ¡°What does your heart tell you?¡± There are a million ways to say it and only one truth¡­he would have to figure it out himself.


    So Mitakahn decided to get back to his friends, run all the information by them to see what they have to say about it, all the while making haste to Mount Fire, and hopefully coming up with some ideas along the way. Done mulling things over for the time being, it was time to calm his thoughts and start the next leg of his journey.


    As Mitakahn went to leave out of the new door that opened, he noticed there was still something lighting the room. He turned back and saw the statue of Patronalus.


    Two small crimson red flames burned within the statue¡¯s eyes.

 Chapter 49: Biggest Weakness

    CHAPTER 49 ¨C BIGGEST WEAKNESS


    Mitakahn walked down long narrow stairs, beautifully sculpted architecture covered by darkness. It led to the room with his friends trapped in waiting. He opened the door and when he lifted the stone slab into position, another door opened on the other side of the room.


    ¡°Convenient, we spend all this time searching for a door, and right when the blessed prince returns to us¡­ two doors open with the ease of his bidding,¡± scoffed Bridger.


    Outside the other door was solid blue sky. They were already almost halfway down the mountain. The troop walked out onto a hidden trail that they could not see before. Orion ran ahead to scout.


    ¡°We are back on the eastern side of the mountains,¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°So Mitakahn tell us what happened while we were waiting for you in the basement,¡± said Anilithion.


    ¡°Well¡­it was a lot to take in. There was a lone statue in there and then I talked with the um¡­ the goddess-¡±


    ¡°The goddess!¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°From the Carbon Terra?¡±


    ¡°That witch thing?¡±


    ¡°I kid you not! It was the Goddess Epiphany that came out of the Carbon Terra last night. When she came to her senses, she fled to the temple and told me about everything in that room, including the FireSword. I¡¯ve never felt like I did in her presence before. It was as if I was¡­a better version of myself, like she brought out the best in me. After meeting her, I have this urge to be a better person, the person that she sees in me. I know it sounds crazy, but the things she said to me-¡± Mitakahn interrupted himself before he could go on.


    ¡°Well! What did she say?¡± asked Tron.


    ¡°She said a lot of things. She told me my dreams were real, and that my kingdom was in grave danger. But, she made it sound much worse than I had expected. Judging by her tone¡­ I don¡¯t think it¡¯s just going to be Port Caliber. I think the entire kingdom is in danger.¡±


    ¡°What did she say about the sword?¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°She told me the story of Patronalus in new detail. Epiphany said that he hid the weapon back on earth when he went to the heavens. Some place ¡®blatant yet subtle¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Did she say where?¡± asked Bridger.


    ¡°Mount Fire!¡± blurted out Humbler.


    ¡°Exactly. That is where we must go. But she did not say what to do once we got there,¡± further explained Mitakahn, ¡°It is up to us to figure that part out.¡±


    ¡°In summation¡± said Tron, ¡°She told you that you were right about the attack on your nation and the FireSword, but she didn¡¯t have the FireSword for you or tell you how to get it? Just where it is¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s about right,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°Now what?¡±


    Now¡­¡± Mitakahn froze in his head. He could no longer weigh the lives of his kin and family against racing for an emblazon sword.


    ¡°We should make for my city as fast we can,¡± insisted Bridger.


    ¡°We must get back to the road, and go from there,¡± said Excelsior.


    ¡°The trail back to the road takes us too far out of the way south. We should just cut through the borderlands,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°You are¡­exiled¡­Mitakahn,¡± said Tron rashly, ¡°Don¡¯t you remember your kingdom¡¯s boundaries?¡±


    ¡°My kingdom¡­ yes that¡¯s right, my kingdom¡­ It¡¯s the blood of the Arkenoir family that founded this kingdom, their roots run deep through the soil of the Pride. No man can stop me from walking upon my home¡­No man¡­¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re talking like a true MagnaThoran prince, Mitakahn!¡± said Bridger.


    ¡°Mitakahn, don¡¯t be crazy. You know the level of your national security!¡± said Anilithion.


    Mitakahn stopped and looked at him.


    ¡°He¡¯s right. There is no doubt you are at the top of the border watch list.¡± Tron stood behind Anilithion, just as Bridger stood behind Mitakahn. Tron pleaded, ¡°Warlord Cassius is still after us. It¡¯s too risky.¡±


    Mitakahn looked around at his friends. ¡°We shall be quick,¡± he walked around his cousin Anilithion, ¡°We shall practice our stealth training.¡± Mitakahn continued by Tron, ¡°and it will be as if we were never here.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Mitakahn you are cheating, the gods knew you were exiled just as they know when the port will be attacked. This is a test. Trust me like we trusted you at the doors of the temple¡­¡± Excelsior pleaded, but Mitakahn did not care, he ran ahead, passing up paths back to the Epitaph Road and going down a trail towards Silona City, the southernmost metropolis in the Serengeti.


    Mitakahn turned back, ¡°We just take this and go off-track before the city limits. We run along the border unseen and we hit the road, maybe get a day¡¯s jump on our quest.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s possible we can get a word on whether the kingdom has been attacked yet.¡± Bridger made Mitakahn realize.


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡±


    ¡°Why would you encourage him?¡± Excelsior said aside to Bridger. ¡°This is not the way.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡± Bridger went on, ¡°Nobody knows if they¡¯re still persecuting him or have completely forgotten about it. Maybe in the time he¡¯s left Axion has returned and taken the throne¡­even dropped the charges.¡±


    ¡°I agree with Bridger,¡± Humbler chimed in.


    Everyone then looked at Kunezar, the only one not to express his opinion yet. He looked back at them all. At first, he thought he did not have to answer. He even tried looking at Orion to pass the attention to the pup, but Orion just stared back at Kunezar with his head cocked like he was also waiting for him to take a stance.


    ¡°Well, Kones?¡±


    Kunezar answered, ¡°¡­It is only a problem if we get caught.¡±


    Humbler, Bridger, and Mitakahn took that as siding with them, while Anilithion, Tron, and Excelsior saw it as Kunezar claiming indifference.


    Mitakahn and Bridger formed the two leads as they came down off the mountaintop. ¡°It¡¯s just a league or two until the border. I know of a blind spot in the patrol,¡± Mitakahn whispered, ¡°The meadows turn too close to the edge of the mountains creating a docile canyon of jagged rock. Yet somehow, giant mother oak trees stand through the rocky soil and make it impossible to fortify or patrol, a realm of ancient uninhabitable earth. I never thought I would be on this side of the mountain. We can cut through right there, look.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure, Mitakahn?¡± Excelsior said in an ill-advising manner.


    They continued behind him. Excelsior signaled to Orion, and he ran ahead. Excelsior pulled in front of Mitakahn and they sunk the prince back to the center of the group. They surrounded him and entered the scattered canyons of the Serengeti southern reaches. Bridger ran up ahead while Humbler and Tron, the two tallest of the company, took lead, as they all weaved throughout the enormous evergreen trees.


    Tron whispered to Humbler, ¡°We are now entering into the realm of the Pride.¡±


    Mitakahn was officially breaking the law. There was no sign of any guards or border battalions or anyone for that matter. Orion came back from ahead of them and ran over to Excelsior.


    The pup wrapped around behind Excelsior and nervously rubbed his head into his master¡¯s chest. Bridger looked over to Excelsior consulting the canine scout. Excelsior saw it on Orion¡¯s face. They both knew¡­ something was wrong. Mitakahn was in severe danger. A branch released from up above.


    Bridger, Mitakahn, and Excelsior looked up. A bird flew above them in the dull sky. Orion slightly whined and the giant tree branch bent unnaturally.


    ¡°MITAKAHN!¡± Excelsior screamed as he tried to save his friend.


    There was nothing to see in the trees. All that could be heard was the snap of a bow releasing its arrow. The arrow soared down from the tree and hit Mitakahn in the back of the shoulder as Excelsior pulled him down, narrowly missing his heart. Bridger turned and released his own arrow. The body fell from the heights of the canyon¡¯s canopy and hit the floor behind them. Orion took off after it. Mitakahn was down. Bridger put his ear to his mouth and looked up at the rest of them, ¡°He¡¯s not breathing¡­¡±


    Excelsior got back up and punched Bridger in the face. Tackling him and crying out, ¡°This is your fault!¡±


    Tron got beside Mitakahn and turned him over along with Anilithion and Humbler to examine the arrow.


    ¡°Excelsior, enough!¡± Yelled Kunezar pulling him away, as the hot-headed Canine knight tried to hit Prince Bridger again.


    ¡°The arrow is poison-tipped,¡± said Tron.


    Excelsior froze in his stance and ran back over to them.


    Bridger rubbed his face and said, ¡°We have to get it out before the venom sets in.¡±


    Tron held Mitakahn on his side along with Anilithion, Humbler, and Kunezar, as Excelsior broke the tail of the arrow off, took a deep breath, and pushed the arrow all the way through Mitakahn¡¯s torso, breaking the skin of his chest. He pulled the arrow out from the other side. They expected a scream. They wanted one. Mitakahn remained limp. Tron reacted, no longer willing to sit idly by and watch the prince die. He made a fist and pounded Mitakahn¡¯s chest trying to get him up. It was no use.


    ¡°Wait! WAIT!¡± Excelsior demanded.


    They all picked Mitakahn up and Excelsior squeezed the wound. Blood and the poisonous concoction dripped out of Mitakahn.


    Kunezar looked around and started panicking.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± yelled Bridger.


    ¡°Orion should have been back by now¡­¡± Kunezar stood up and brandished his sword.


    They lost their grip of Mitakahn¡¯s body, and it collapsed back to the ground.


    ¡°Did we get it all out?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re losing him!¡±


    ¡°He needs my people¡¯s medicine.¡±


    ¡°Compis Falls is too far away.¡±


    ¡°Get up! It¡¯s not over!¡±


    From all around the company, in the crooked canyons and ancient evergreens a border battalion dropped in on them. Over twenty golden syndicate mercenaries, disguised as Lion Nation border patrol, engaged the company to ensure that there would be no witnesses to the assassination of Prince Mitakahn.


    A growl from the shadows!


    End of Part Three

 Fifth Interlude: Forsaken

    FIFTH INTERLUDE ¨C FORSAKEN


    Beyond the great gate south, the sands shifted into more solid dried up patches of earth. These were known as the WasteLands, not quite desert, not quite marsh, yet still a wretched place. Malinor traversed the WasteLands and kept his path due south until he reached civilization. He needed to make sense of his experience back at the gate; get some sort of confirmation he is not just losing his mind. Did Lord of Darkness and the Netherworld the dragon god Dracobra really choose him? A nobody from the north. A reject. Maybe that¡¯s all a revolution in the modern age required¡­


    Most of the country in this area broke east back along the Burning Mountains, ahead south was the edge, and the Barren Sea after that. Except before the sea was a city along the skyline. That¡¯s where Malinor would go. The road is never kind to people who are not used to it. A southerner worth his weight in obsidian knew how to spot a northerner. Malinor was easy prey. Before he had a chance to talk to anyone about his divine interactions he found himself in dire straits. Malinor quickly realized any word coming from someone north of the gate would not be trusted. He was a fool to assume otherwise. Do these people really want to hear that their god has chosen an outsider to lead them? No.


    The bars clanked in front of Malinor after all his possessions save the shirt on his back were taken and he was thrown in with the rest of the lot of slaves. They were being wheeled off away from the city, towards the mountains to the east.


    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Malinor.


    ¡°Quiet!¡± the guard yelled, banging the bars separating them on the prison wagon.


    No one answered for a while.


    ¡°They are taking us to those mountains, within them is Morticomb Caverns. The places we are going are not pleasant,¡± the slave said. He got smacked upside the head by the butt of a spear from the guard sitting above them in the cage.


    Malinor shook his head annoyed. ¡°No, what is that?¡±


    He pointed to the horizon beyond the Morticomb Mountains. They had grown used to it living in the south. Sometimes it took a new set of eyes from beyond the gate to shake them out of it. Malinor was referring to the mists coming off the horizon east like tentacles of fog and wind, almost like the fire of a storm. It caught and cascaded across the horizon, twinkling with the far away sun.


    After waiting a longer amount of time, more than double the length of time the first time, the same slave opened his mouth to answer Malinor. The spear thrusted back down to reprimand him, this time it was the spear head. Blood trickled out of the slave¡¯s mouth, he cried out. A piece of his tongue fell through the hole in his cheek. It splattered blood onto Malinor¡¯s chained leg. He squirmed. After that he kept his mouth shut.


    It was like that for a while until they reached their destination. The wild horizon remaining in the background, unexplained. Malinor was forced into the mountains where he would not see the light of day for some time. He was first sent down to the mines where he cracked through the ground in search for ore. He served the forgesmiths until they grew tired of his escape attempts. Malinor was then sent to the dungeons where he was experimented on and tortured. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    It just so happened that amongst all the executioners, interrogators, and torturers Malinor was their favorite prisoner. It wasn¡¯t often that they got a man from Northgate. When they felt like asking questions during their torture pieces it was always about MagnaThora¡¯s kings. They had no concept of the Senate. Malinor had a laugh at that. Eventually his fame got him an audience with the lead interrogator, Officer Orwell Spangalore. Malinor knew he was mad from the first day they met. Back then his madness was restrained. He still kept up appearances for the sake of society. That was until Malinor got through with him.


    It started off just as harmless as his other hosts. Malinor claimed he spoke with the god Dracobra and was anointed their savior. They wouldn¡¯t believe him. They torture him until he confessed to his lies. Malinor swears of no lies. And on and on it went until the captors got sick of the circles and passed the prisoner along. Spangalore wanted to hear for himself.


    ¡°What did the great dragon say to you, scum lord of Northgate?¡±


    ¡°Many things. None of which I asked for evidence of¡­which now I see was a mistake.¡±


    Malinor laughed and then screamed as Spangalore had his guard hold the branding iron to Malinor¡¯s back. His flesh burnt. He could not see it himself, being tied down, but could he feel it, and also could he smell it.


    ¡°Your flesh smells good, north-man,¡± the guard spat, ¡°must be coated heavily in fat.¡±


    ¡°You are barely a worthy meal for my men stranger. You really think our deity would choose you to deliver his will?¡±


    ¡°From the looks of things down here¡­yes.¡±


    ¡°Like you have any idea what life is like in the southern reaches. People of Northgate ignore the truth.¡±


    ¡°What truth?¡±


    ¡°You will never know. You will only know pain.¡±


    ¡°I am familiar with pain. You can remind me of its effects all you want. This only goes somewhere when you start talking.¡±


    ¡°If I talk¡­you will talk?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What is it you want to know?¡±


    ¡°What makes the mists swirl along the horizon?¡±


    ¡°You want to know about MagnaThora¡¯s oldest secret.¡±


    ¡°You just called my people ignorant. I¡¯m asking you to inform me. Will you continue to perpetuate a falsehood? Then continue administering the pain.¡±


    ¡°I will not tell you, outsider.¡±


    Spangalore started walking out of the room. Before he left he said one last thing then leaving Malinor to the darkness.


    ¡°I will show you.¡±

 Sixth Interlude: Strike & Surge

    SIXTH INTERLUDE ¨C STRIKE & SURGE


    Patronalus inherited the wisdom of the gods with revered grace. He did not take the throne as the new Crucifire King. Instead, he sought a higher crown and calling, as King of the Gods and Prime Guardian of MagnaThora. He departed society and the musings of man.


    His first quest was clear. He knew if he cut down the dragon god that another evil entity would rise up against him in its place, just how Dracobra rose from the ashes of Plagues. It will always happen, doomed as if. Nature is about balance and cycles, revolutions, and entropy.


    Patronalus, along with the help of the legendary dragon the Dread Raphe, hunted down the god of darkness. He knew together, with their powers combined, they could defeat the dragon god. He flew south, blond hair flailing in the wind as he rode atop Raphe. There was no sensation quite like riding a dragon. When it was one of this magnitude Patronalus also felt like a flea on the back of a giant, which provided its own creature comforts. He was truly able to enjoy his time in the clouds before arriving south of the broken gate, at the Temple of Darkness in Dragon Cove.


    He used the Crucifire Sword to surround the Dread Raphe in protective fire and they fought the god dragon, only slightly larger and more terrifying than the Raphe. Before they completely destroyed the temple Dracobra fled south to the outer limits of MagnaThora. The demigod was panicking. It did not want to die. It did not want to lose. It refused to go back into the sea, which surrounded the southlands on one side. The mountains surrounded it on the other. There was one strip of land that kept going southeast, curling around and up the continent, but that also gave way to the abyss at world¡¯s end, the great cascade.


    The fortress at the end of the world signifies where the demigod Dracobra made its final stand against Patronalus. Unpredictable lava geysers downed the Dread Raphe and Patronalus was forced to fight amongst the glowing red rivers and skies of ash. It mattered not to Patronalus, who wielded the sword of heroes.


    A clash of fire and steel against claw lit up the dark skies of the deep south. Patronalus fought the dragon and repelled everything it threw at him. Each strike was challenging. He would have to play defense until he could get a grip on the fight. Dracobra knew its fire would not burn him, but it still knocked him off his feet with its sheer force. The dragon used this to keep him disoriented. Patronalus adapted, learning how to absorb the dragon fire with the sword.


    The Paragon of Fire spun around and threw the dragon¡¯s own fire back at it in a spray. The fire did not burn it, but it still knocked the dragon back. And that¡¯s when Patronalus struck! He flew up under the dragon in the air and carved his sword into its gut. The blade got stuck in the dragon¡¯s armored scales and they were off. Dracobra flew above the ash clouds.


    They flew above the clouds for some time. Preoccupied with each other as the dragon snipped at Patronalus while he formed fire daggers and used them to pry the thick scales from the dragon¡¯s hide. The Crucifire Sword still lit, strapped to his back, generating its divine fire, filling Patronalus with power. He carved into the demigod until its soft underbelly was exposed and they began their descent. They landed somewhere in the mountains. Where? He did not know. For now¡­


    Patronalus awoke after the crash. Even for a new god that hurt like something awful. He looked around. The Crucifire Sword was just out of reach, intact but unlit. Patronalus tried to stand up, but the ground trembled beneath his feet. The dragon god was rising up and the caves were buckling under the immense pressure. They fell through another level and the Crucifire Sword along with them. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Almost live an indoor avalanche, each level they dropped gave them the moment to break through the next floor, and then the next, and the next, and so on, and so forth. Until they reached a sweeping chamber large than any arena or assembly hall. It was so big it had its own sub caves full of tunnels and rooms created by interwoven stalactites and stalagmites. Patronalus hit the hard floor and wondered if it was the core of the earth. He laughed as he got himself up. The sword was gone. He was on his own.


    The dragon shook the dust and rocks off its long body. Being this big was a burden. Being this big stuck inside caverns was perilous. Dracobra could not remember a time, since its creation, that it was not able to fly away. Its only choice was to reduce its size. As the demigods shrank Patronalus attacked!


    Without his sword he waited for the creature to shrink to a manageable size and jumped at it. Patronalus tried to summon the fire daggers, but they would not manifest. In order to wield the mystical fire, he would need to ignite the sword. That wasn¡¯t very convenient. He would have to come up with something else. Patronalus tried to wrap his arms around the dragon¡¯s neck, it was significantly smaller now, but by no means small enough for that. He barely avoided getting bucked off.


    Dracobra spun around like he knew something. Patronalus panicked, the implications clear. The fire was gone. There was nothing to protect him from its fury. Dracobra took a deep breath, from its wounds it glowed yellow as the fire in its belly churned.


    Patronalus held his hands up, palms out, and closed his eyes. He could still see the scene around him. He tried to sense the sword. It was buried. He shook the boulderocks on top of it. They barely budged. He tried again and they flew up between him and the dragon, shielding him from the fire. In one last push, Patronalus released the stones, sending them towards Dracobra. They missed their target. The dragon swooped in after the sword.


    The crucifire sword sat on the ground unlit, surrounded by rocks of all sizes, finally free from its boulder tomb. Both gods raced towards it. It moved on its own towards Patronalus but Dracobra was closer. It pinned the sword on the ground of the cave with its black claw. Patronalus stopped dead in his tracks, and they stared at each other.


    ¡°You¡¯re running out of options, puny human.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re never getting out of here, lord dragon.¡±


    ¡°You will die down here along with me.¡±


    ¡°No one is dying today.¡±


    Patronalus closed his eyes again, palms out. Instead of moving the rocks, the stalactites and stalagmites began to tremble. He let out an audible yelp as the strain of what he was trying to do took hold of him. Then the Paragon moved the tunnels and rooms of the chamber. He changed their size and moved them like ribbons connected to the roof and floor, through the room. The first two, at the same time, flew through the air, spinning into thin coils. They smacked against the dragon¡¯s snout and spun around its mouth, spiraling around several times, locking it shut. Two thick stalactites fell onto the dragons wings, pinning it down, as wide stalagmites spread over the dragon, interweaving with the rest.


    Dracobra tried to alter its own size. Before it could break free the liquid stone set and lit on fire. The Crucifire Sword was back in Patronalus¡¯ hands. It was over. The dragon demigod once guardian of the abyss and champion of darkness was defeated.


    Patronalus sealed that bottommost chamber and imprisoned Dracobra forever in the Burning Mountains. Once he put up enough safeguards in the bowels of the mountains he would relinquish the poor dark beast from such an intimate imprisonment. It would live out the rest of its life down in the depths of the Earth, heating the foundation of the Burning Mountains with its fire, fulfilling the mountain¡¯s namesake, and melting any chance of snow for the entire continent.


    His primary opponent now defeated, the Paragon of humanity began to repair the damage down by the war. Every day lived after his duel with the dragon god would be spent knowing his power was not all in the sword. Patronalus was an ascended being and worthy of greatness. He was not just the hero that slays the beast and saves the princess. He was the savior of them all and MagnaThora¡¯s salvation. He continued on his quest of miracles.

 Chapter 50: Back to Reality

    Part Four: Port Caliber


    CHAPTER 50 ¨C BACK TO REALITY


    Time will always be relative to the person living through it. For one prince, several momentous events could transpire in the same amount of time as his counterpart, who seemed to stand still in a bubble of romance. Several weeks had passed since Axion parted ways with his family and stayed in the mountains with Euphrati. Still too swept up in his budding love to care, Axion barely thought about home and the way he left things. Most mornings they shared a meal together amongst the townsfolk, a tradition Euphrati liked to uphold. This particular morning one of the town guards ate beside them. Euphrati did not know him personally, but she knew of him. They kept to themselves until a strange bird landed on the breakfast table.


    ¡°What a strange bird¡± said Axion.


    ¡°That¡¯s Chronis¡­¡± the guard grumbled under the bite he was taking.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Chronis?¡± Euphrati asked.


    ¡°Chronis¡­is a name¡­specifically the name your brother gave that bird,¡± explained Echo. ¡°Silver tailed hawks are one of the rarest species of bird to roam these lands and your brother walked with it like it was any other songbird. Incredible¡± Echo chuckled.


    ¡°You met my brother?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right¡­ he was in danger¡­actually we were both under attack when Chronis saved our lives.¡±


    ¡°Saved you from what? This place is harmless,¡± said Axion.


    Echo ignored Axion¡¯s presumptuous statement, ¡°¡­A beast known as a Berserker. It was after Mitakahn¡­I couldn¡¯t see it at the time but it had it out for your brother.¡± Echo stopped explaining and tried to solve the mystery, ¡°¡­What would make a wild beast go on a mission?¡±


    ¡°What if someone trained it to go after Mitakahn?¡± Euphrati asked.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡­a Berserker is-¡±


    ¡°I know what a Berserker is,¡± Axion interrupted, ¡°¡­a feral agent of darkness. My gods, whatever could be powerful enough to govern the will of a Berserker could be capable of anything.¡±


    ¡°It wanted your brother dead or worse¡­and now he¡¯s out there in the wild without his guardian here to protect him¡­¡±


    Axion looked at the bird. Echo was clearly talking about Chronis. Mitakahn¡¯s guardian fell to a bird in his older brother¡¯s absence. He got so caught up in his own life he forgot to think about it like that. It was one thing to grapple with his father no longer being there for him. What Axion failed to comprehend was that he not only had to find it in himself to be his own protector, but he also had to be there for the others who had relied on his father. Mitakahn, his mother, even the Pride for that matter, which is an entirely different topic. Or was it? It all bled together with becoming king. Up until now he put up a deliberate front in his own mind to impede his progression. It was all getting so confusing¡­ But wait, there was something about that middle bit.


    ¡°What do you mean¡­out in the wild?¡± Axion asked.


    ¡°Have you not heard? Word from Zepathorum is Prince Mitakahn has been exiled.¡±


    ¡°EXILED!?¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± asked Euphrati, for Axion was now rendered speechless after his outburst.


    ¡°Rumor has it¡­false prophecy¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± Euphrati dismissed.


    Axion realized what was going on immediately.


    ¡°What have I done? ¡­the dreams¡­he must¡¯ve gone public with them after I ignored him¡­those sniveling politicians were waiting for an opportunity¡­he said it himself¡­and with me not there¡­I gave it right to them¡­¡±


    ¡°Axion¡­what are you saying?¡± Euphrati asked. Poor girl tried to keep up.


    Axion did not answer at first. Instead, he stood up and looked out towards the horizon, the slow running slope of the mountain to the river, the road, and the Pride beyond it. His look smoldered at the realization, what it all meant, what he had to do now. Chronis perked his head up to behold him. A massive unseen shift in the tides of MagnaThora, only apparent to mystic birds who watch the hands of time. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I have to go back.¡±


    Euphrati had never seen Axion like this before. Her cheeks flushed with red as she did her best to hide it. It was as though something took a hold of him. It was still Axion but of a different spirit, she had no way of realizing it at the time, but it was of the Pride. She fully supported Axion¡¯s decision. Euphrati knew this day would come; in fact, she was kind of looking forward to it. Ever since she was a little girl, she yearned to leave the small village. Euphrati always felt the need to explore MagnaThora, but deep down in her heart she knew all she really wanted was to find her home.


    As if Chronis heard her thoughts, the kind bird flew over to Euphrati, who was holding out her hand, and landed on her arm. Echo took a second look at the not-so-average village girl. Perhaps this bird wasn¡¯t Mitakahn¡¯s after all. But if that were true¡­what did that mean for those Chronis selected? The silver-tailed hawk ruffled his feathers and cawed when Euphrati¡¯s expression changed drastically. The bird flew away and Axion asked, ¡°What was that all about?¡±


    ¡°He spoke to me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡±


    ¡°What did he tell you?¡± Echo persisted as he escorted them to the village limits.


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing¡­¡± Euphrati stopped walking with them.


    Axion looked back at her when he realized she had stopped walking with them. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you¡­¡±


    ¡°Try me¡­¡±


    ¡°Chronis wants to show me the way home.¡±


    ¡°The bird¡­told you¡­¡± Axion repeated, ¡°I see¡­Well¡­I know what this means to you¡­but I must make sure my family is safe.¡±


    ¡°What about my family, Axion?¡± Euphrati went on the offensive, ¡°You¡¯ve known yours your entire life¡­ I¡¯ve never known mine¡­This is my chance¡­¡±


    ¡°You cannot ask me to abandon my brother and mother, after we just lost the king¡­¡±


    ¡°I have to do this, Axion. I understand why you can¡¯t come with me, and I am sorry I cannot go with you.¡± Euphrati backed away from Axion and Echo.


    No, no, no, it was happening¡­


    ¡°Please don¡¯t make me choose,¡± Axion begged.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t choosing, my dear¡­¡± Euphrati comforted him, ¡°This is putting our love on hold until we can sort out our lives.¡±


    ¡°But we won¡¯t be together¡­I stayed so we could be together.¡±


    ¡°We will again one day,¡± Euphrati walked back over to Axion, ¡°I promise,¡± and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Before she could leave, he grabbed her and hugged her, a long embrace, one meant to last him a lifetime.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to hold you to that¡­¡± he whispered in her ear, before letting the girl go to chase her past.


    As they walked away, Axion had a whisp of emotion suddenly come over him, it was dread. No, it was instant regret over not kissing her when he had the chance. It might have been his only chance. What were the odds they would ever see each other again? Euphrati quickly collected her things and said her goodbyes to the humble folk of Ashtown, who took her and raised her as a community and embraced her leaving, knowing full well what this meant to her. Euphrati was off on her own adventure, just like Axion or Mitakahn. Chronis led her off east across the Burning Mountains as he flew high above her in the sky, almost like he was trying to see something far off. The men however, made a slight detour before Axion left. Echo took him to the stables.


    ¡°You will never meet a horse quite like this. Don¡¯t tell your Metuchen brethren but he is a finer breed than any shoreland steed. I should know. Not only is he fast on a hard road and resilient off-road, but this horse is sharp. He is a Hyriesling. Mark my words, prince. He will never let you down.¡±


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°Call it penance for something I should have done for your brother.¡±


    ¡°I think I know what you mean.¡±


    ¡°Let this be a gift for helping you catch him.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The young horse was well toned with a sturdy, tough, brawny definition; bright brown hair, a glistening blond mane on the back of his neck, and a pure white strip running down his nose. Echo petted the blond mane and told Axion the young horse¡¯s name before saying goodbye and good luck.


    ¡°This is Huntross, the most faithful companion you¡¯ll ever have. He is the colt of my beloved Caprice.¡±


    ¡°He looks fully grown.¡±


    ¡°He is not. So, expect him to get even larger.¡±


    ¡°Then he will be the biggest horse in MagnaThora!¡±


    ¡°You are going to need all the help you can get.¡±


    Axion, in his rush, paid little heed to those last words spoken by Echo. In the brash prince¡¯s mind, he assumed Echo was referring to the journey home. Axion had to return as quickly as possible. The prince had enough experience around horses to know he had to spend his time wisely right now. Better to take the time now to bond with Huntross than riding too early and risking any number of potential catastrophes. He let the horse smell him.


    Axion scratched his long cheeks beneath his ears until he let out a nay. Axion smiled at the horse and patted him on the back of the neck. He then mounted and was met with zero resistance. He didn¡¯t even have to give him an apple. The happy colt trotted out of the town. Once on the path he nudged Huntross into a full stride. Never one to hold back, Axion kicked the horse to simultaneously show his demands and test the beast¡¯s limits. Huntross obeyed and exceeded expectations. Axion felt no need to lighten up on the reins. Before he knew it, the horse had him halfway home.

 Chapter 51: The Approach

    CHAPTER 51 ¨C THE APPROACH


    Dawn broke in Port Caliber and a dark storm cloud spread over the Barren Sea. It was no ordinary storm. No, the clouds looked far too dark to be normal. Something unnatural was entering the bay. The sun hit flat under the cloud and formed a beam of light that looked like a fleeting blanket. A young boy with his ankles in the water was the first one to see it.


    Denison¡¯s older sister focused on catching breakfast. She usually let the boy play if she did not require help fishing. He was nice enough to make the walk with her all the way from the stables district. Although she would never tell him, in risk of bruising his blossoming manliness, his company far more of worth than his help with the net. He still had a lot to learn, but Denison was a good little brother.


    From Denison¡¯s point of view, the shadow of the storm caught the Barren Sea and turned its water rotten. Disturbing monstrosities made their way to the shore underwater. Denison watched as the water between his feet began to taint. He followed the spread back out, all the way to the horizon, where the darkness looked like it was bunching up in clusters of sails.


    Denison backed out of the water as a tentacle snatched his foot. It yanked him down and pulled him under furiously, dragging him out into the deep. His sister lunged after him and threw the fishnet as a lifeline for Denison to hold onto. Denison took a hold of the net and closed his eyes as he got thrashed around, water shooting up his nose.


    Now being pulled along together, his sister took a rusty knife out of her boot and held it with her teeth, climbing the net to the boy. Denison panicked and swatted at the tentacle, his breath quickly running out. His sister grabbed him and pulled him in so she could reach Denison¡¯s ensnared ankle. Denison did not hesitate. He took the knife from his sister¡¯s mouth and plunged it into the tentacle, releasing them both. With a boost from his sister, Denison swam for the surface.


    The relief of the surface breach filled Denison with fresh air and ecstasy. Underneath him, his sister succumbed to the shadowy depths. Black algae swallowed her up and mutated her under the water. It would not be the last time she would ever be seen. It¡¯s just that no one would ever recognize her after today, save maybe one. Denison could not wait; he was exhausted, and the darkness was surrounding him. The boy swam back to the beach and crawled out of the water. He fell on the sand sobbing uncontrollably, trying to catch his breath and looked back one more time for his older sister, but he knew¡­ as he watched the sea turn before his very eyes. She was gone.


    People passed him on the beach. The wailing winds had pulled them out of their houses and brought their attention to the stormy horizon. Denison tried to warn them from going near the water, but no one took the word of a kid seriously. The boy ran because that is all he knew to do. He ran home to the only person that would believe him, his mother.


    Port Caliber was truly a vast city, with its rolling fields out to the east, the Arbalest bridge to North Caliber, and most notable, its towers. Most of them housed the citizens of the Pride and looked similar albeit of varying constructions. That was except for the government buildings which were exquisitely carved out of the same fireproof crimson stone as the Zepathorum Citadel. Vestige Tower was a thin tower that came to a spiraling point, with perforated ridges lining its entire surface leading up to the point, which resembled an ornamental spear mounting the top of the building. This tower archived the most treasured artifacts of the Lion kingdom. These halls were filled with history. It was the same place King Theomitus¡¯ funeral procession stopped for the viewing.


    There were so many floors in the Vestige Tower that it didn¡¯t just house the kingdom¡¯s museums and assembly halls. The upper floors were all dedicated to the kingdom¡¯s congress. On this particular floor, on this particular day, during this particular morning, Galastad Borigini squabbled with the politicians over law and precedent. He found the conversation getting tiresome and excused himself to peer out the window. What an odd looking sunrise¡­


    The light shined flatly, paralleling the land underneath, like a sandwich; MagnaThora, the field of sunlight, and the storm cloud on top. The golden sunshine appeared to retract in on itself as the clouds took over, revealing the Barren Sea. A view of the bay always calmed his nerves. Today it didn¡¯t. The bay was black and as he followed the crunchy horizon back in towards the city¡­what¡¯s that? The docks were on fire.


    If Galastad had taken one more moment before reacting he would have seen the legions of ships sailing into the port. The Metuchen warrior was already in action. Galastad barely knew how he got to throwing the deliberation table over so quickly. All he knew was he needed to get out there and do something about this. The calculations locking into place as he figured it out. Axion was away. Only the Queen ruled. The Casterosi house was missing. This did not bode well for the kingdom¡¯s defenses. The vassals will struggle to call their banners. It would be up to the municipality. It would be up to the national government to respond. That¡¯s when Galastad stopped dead in his tracks.


    ¡°Where is Governor Demeter?¡±


    ¡°He never arrived for the meeting.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Which is odd because-¡±


    ¡°He usually leads them.¡± Galastad finished the sentence.


    Demeter¡¯s absence might be the biggest clue to the fact that this kingdom was in serious danger. The Coast Watch would be completely caught off guard and most likely dispatched immediately by the enemy. His best bet was to rally the kingdom¡¯s militia with the emergency beacon. The confused bureaucrats had no idea what was going on. Before Galastad left to put on his battle armor, he beckoned onto them.


    ¡°If any of you know how to wield a sword, meet me at the beaches, spread the word, and for you cowards quietly plotting to flee the city already, burn the damn beacon at the top of the tower first so we can at least warn the rest of the kingdom. Make no mistake. This is war.¡±


    The air became slightly disturbed. Not quite like a gust of wind, but more of an invisible tremor. Reality split open and swirled around, forming into a portal. The churning cosmic fire tilted forward and out spilled Cipher and Mercinestor Casterosi. They fell to the deck helplessly. Cipher got to his knees to have a look around. He could not believe his eyes. He was on a southern warship. The amethyst dragon sigil waved above him on a black sail. Ahead of the boat was Port Caliber, but to Cipher¡¯s complete and utter dismay¡­ behind them was an invasion fleet of over a thousand warships.


    His father, Lord Mercinestor of Castle Rosi Island was badly injured. Cipher tried to help him up as best he could with his wrists tied together. A decorated warrior walked out of the ship¡¯s cabin to have a look at the new cargo. He was certainly their leader, but Cipher did not think that he was just the ship¡¯s captain. This warrior had a title more significant than that, Cipher deduced. This was the commander of the fleet and they were on the flagship. Cipher was too clever for his own good. Fear ran deep through his heart, fear for his life and his father¡¯s life.


    Zorrowfold gave them a brief look before focusing back on the portal. Cipher trembled as their captor fell through the portal, landing gracefully on his feet. Zorrowfold dropped to one knee.


    ¡°Hail the dark lord!¡±


    The rest of the sailors kneeled and hailed the cloaked warrior.


    ¡°Admiral Zorrowfold, it has been a taxing day. Pray you have good news for me.¡±


    He towered over everyone in his bizarre armor and dark cloak, wielding a black metal sword that quietly glowed around its edges. The plates of his armor looked like they were made of stone that seemed to twitch ever so slightly. The hood of his cloak covered most of his face. Cipher could see he was wearing a vanity mask. One of the relics of the ancients and common in the south, vanity masks served as a way to render physical attraction irrelevant. The coarse cobalt mask had razor thin slits for eyes, with a subtle, almost non-existent nose, and an upended oblong opening around the mouth that revealed his pointed chin. Zorrowfold stepped forward to report.


    ¡°My lord, we have arrived at Port Caliber.¡±


    ¡°Excellent timing.¡±


    The dark lord picked up Mercinestor by the neck like he weighed nothing and used him to threaten Cipher.


    ¡°Tell me where the Ignaleos Cor is or I will kill your father.¡±


    Mercinestor managed to shake his head while in the chokehold. He didn¡¯t want Cipher to give up the cor, no matter the cost. Cipher refused to answer. Enough time went by for the Dark Lord to get the idea. He threw Mercinestor back down to the floor and stepped on his head, pinning him down. He placed the side of his black sword¡¯s tip on Mercinestor¡¯s face, barely breaking the skin.


    ¡°STOP!¡± Cipher screamed.


    ¡°Last chance, Casterosi. Tell me where it is¡­¡±


    The sword pressed down onto Mercinestor¡¯s temple. He squirmed in pain. He somehow managed to maintain eye contact with his son as a little blood dripped across his eye. He was a tough old man. His look turned from agony to pure horror as the glow on the edge of the black sword expanded and started to suck the life out of him. Cipher could not believe it. He could see the hairs of his father¡¯s mustache turn gray and white, one by one, more and more, and his eyes fade.


    ¡°If you do not tell me where the Ignaleos Cor is I will let the reaper blade drain him dry and throw you overboard, chained to the dead weight. You will drown with your father¡¯s corpse as your country burns.¡±


    Cipher¡¯s shoulders sunk. It was hopeless. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The Dark Lord Malinor smiled. He turned to give orders to Admiral Zorrowfold. ¡°Begin the invasion. Do not relent until you reach the gates of Zepathorum.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my lord¡± Zorrowfold bowed and relieved himself.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Cipher asked.


    Malinor looked out at the approaching city before he answered.


    ¡°Because I want to. And there is nothing that can stop me.¡±

 Chapter 52: Troubled Times

    <h2> </h2>


    CHAPTER 52 ¨C TROUBLED TIMES


    The spiral staircase of the Zepathorum City Citadel listed among Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s least favorite things about the Lion Kingdom. The older he got, the more he dwelled over such a pertinent fact, as he scaled the tower to check in on his sister. There waiting at the top for him was Commander Cel¡¯a.


    ¡°You take the early shift in your own regiment?¡±


    ¡°The queen is all my royal guard has left to protect. I¡¯m not taking any more chances, your highness.¡±


    ¡°Some things are out of our hands, commander.¡±


    ¡°I made a promise.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad acknowledged her with a head nod. He had a feeling she was referring to Mitakahn. ¡°Is my sister awake?¡±


    ¡°You can find the queen on the balcony, where she spends most of her time these days.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Cel¡¯a¡±


    Cel¡¯a bowed and let Anilithy¨¬stad into the queen¡¯s chambers.


    He joined Ady¨¢na out on the balcony.


    ¡°Not much of a view.¡±


    ¡°Hello brother. Any news of my boys?¡±


    ¡°Sadly no. I think it is time we start considering father¡¯s involvement, at least until this period of unknowingness is over.¡±


    ¡°I will not let my home be occupied by a foreign army, even if it¡¯s that of my own family.¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad bowed, ¡°I did not intend to offend.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it, but please do not bring up the matter again.¡±


    ¡°The only thing is¡­¡±


    ¡°Anilithy¨¬stad, please.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent word to Metuchen.¡±


    ¡°Without my consent? How could you?¡±


    ¡°You misunderstand my intentions, dear sister. It is only as a precaution, in case Mitakahn¡¯s visions come to pass.¡±


    Ady¨¢na gave no response, which almost meant more than anything she could say.


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe him, do you?¡±


    Another pause.


    Anilithy¨¬stad followed the cloud-covered sky over to Port Caliber. The port city was almost dark, which was odd because it was still morning.


    ¡°Back in the old days, before our time, the evil that corrupted MagnaThora used ancient tricks like dark clouds and night, just like that,¡± he pointed towards the port city, ¡°They did it as a form of camouflage, a war tactic. By the time their enemies figured out what was going on the invasion was¡­already¡­here¡­¡± Anilithy¨¬stad trailed off.


    ¡°¡­How much like that?¡± Queen Ady¨¢na asked.


    ¡°Exactly like that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s no storm.¡±


    With that realization, they noticed a foreign darkness spilling out of the horizon. There were warships in the bay.


    ¡°It has begun! Right under our very noses! What Mitakahn predicted has come true!¡± Anilithy¨¬stad shouted. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Commander Cel¡¯a!¡± Ady¨¢na called out before tending to Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°Relax brave prince, go get your armor and lead the guard. They will be gathering at the Gatehouse.¡±


    In a frantic haste, Anilithy¨¬stad scrambled out of the bedchambers as Cel¡¯a came rushing in, spear at the ready.


    ¡°Commander, there is a foreign presence invading Port Caliber. You are tasked with fortifying Zepathorum and preparing for refugees. You will also need to issue a response team to assist the horse princes. They will need reinforcements.¡±


    Cel¡¯a took a deep breath. The queen¡¯s words etched into her memory. The royal orders planted firmly in her mind. Thank the gods she was good at her job, after all these years, and possessed such a reflex because nothing could take her attention away from what she was looking at outside.


    ¡°Yes, your highness. I will see to it right away.¡±


    It took everything she had to pull herself away, but she was able to. Before Cel¡¯a left she stopped and turned around. ¡°Is there anything else I can do?¡±


    ¡°If-¡± Queen Ady¨¢na cut herself off as she completely and utterly broke down. She began to sob uncontrollably. Cel¡¯a threw her spear on the bed and hugged the queen. Without making eye contact, Queen Ady¨¢na composed herself and cleared her throat.


    ¡°If Theo was here, he would be one step ahead of this. With Mercinestor missing as Liege Lord, it falls upon us to call the banners of the Serengeti.¡±


    ¡°Is this war?¡±


    ¡°We cannot afford to assume otherwise.¡±


    ¡°I can send riders post haste.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, commander.¡±


    ¡°May I speak candidly, your highness?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Cel¡¯a.¡±


    ¡°The king would be very proud of you, my queen, and relieved to know he left his rule in capable hands.¡±


    ¡°I will do what I can in his stead. I will try to make up for what we have lost, but I am no warrior, and a member of the Arkenoir House has always represented the Pride on the field of battle.¡±


    Once again, something beyond the city limits grabbed the commander¡¯s attention.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we need to worry about that.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad rushed down the spiral staircase to gather his weapons and armor. He reached his room, pulled chain mail over his head, slid his surcoat over it, and latched his metal chest piece firmly. He attached armor pieces to his arms and legs and tightened his belt around his waist.


    Anilithy¨¬stad picked up his sword, practiced his ceremonial pre-battle killing stroke, and then sheathed it. He put the sheathed sword in a slot on his back instead of his hip, the shorelands way, and picked up a spear. On the way out of the armory, he grabbed his silver ¡°U¡± shaped shield. Anilithy¨¬stad adjusted the straps on his ancestral shield, so it fastened tightly onto his arm. The general was now ready for battle.


    Anilithy¨¬stad approached the main gates of Zepathorum. Metuchen cavalry along with mounted regiments of the royal guard gathered into formation around Jericho and Mortikahn, both fully clad in armor and clearly waiting for his arrival.


    ¡°Good lads.¡± He muttered to himself right before greeting them.


    ¡°A foreign force is invading Port Caliber,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad addressed the response team, ¡°We must move quickly!¡±


    The bells of the citadel rang out in response to something. Some of the troops gasped. Anilithy¨¬stad quickly broke down the situation and continued.


    ¡°For my troops who are new to this land, those bells mean the Vestige Tower beacon at Caliber has been lit. That means our comrades at the sister city are preparing for a fight. I know for a fact that Galastad is down there. He will take the fight to them. So, we will use our force to secure a safe evacuation. The regiment will split into two groups, one to fight and one to get the townsfolk out. It¡¯s as simple as that. Prince Jericho will lead the group to evacuate, start at the stables and work your way in. I will lead the rest of you to the fight where we will come together and make our stand.¡±


    ¡°What about the Harbor?¡±


    ¡°The Harbor is already lost.¡±


    ¡°Not Seaport Village!¡±


    ¡°The village is impregnable!¡±


    The group shouted all at once, as Anilithy¨¬stad resumed control. ¡°We ride now! We ride to save the kingdom!¡±


    However, something was wrong. This was not his kingdom, and these men knew it. He was standing in someone else¡¯s place. Anilithy¨¬stad had been in battle before. He knew the importance of spirit, and the spirits of the troops before him were weak. As the men passed through the gate, Anilithy¨¬stad trotted his horse along with them.


    He gave orders to the gatekeepers. ¡°Lock the gate behind us and make sure not to let anyone or anything in until our return.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad exited Zepathorum unsure of himself, his men, and the battle ahead. He looked up at the Citadel tower for his sister. Queen Ady¨¢na was still standing out on the balcony with Commander Cel¡¯a. For some reason they were not watching him, and no longer looking out towards Port Caliber. No, they looked out beyond him. Were they pointing at something?


    ¡°LOOK!¡± a guard announced. He motioned toward the road.


    The soldiers cheered. There was a rider coming towards them from the Epitaph Road. Their spirits lifted immensely at the sight of the rider¡¯s crimson cloak billowing in the wind. The response team renewed their energy at the sight of his homecoming. Anilithy¨¬stad now with a boost of fresh hope kicked his steed and led the reinforcements towards Port Caliber, behind the return of Zepathorum¡¯s prince.

 Chapter 53: Landfall

    CHAPTER 53 ¨C LANDFALL


    The storm clouds grabbed a hold of the sky and the sun that fleeted east. A long time had passed since Malinor saw the clear blue sky. It reminded him of his humanity but only briefly, as the storm clouds proceeded to invade the sky. He pressed down on Mercinestor¡¯s head with the flat side of his double-edged sword. Mercinestor squirmed beneath him, pinned down by not only the dark lord¡¯s sword, but also his boot. Mercinestor managed to wrestle free of Malinor¡¯s wrath for a brief second. Just enough of a moment to give his son something. Cipher listened very carefully.


    ¡°Run.¡±


    Malinor and Cipher both shared a startled look. Malinor did not think the boy would have enough guts to go through with it. Sacrifice his own father? Cipher jumped up to the edge of the ship, cranked a switch on his wrist, and gave a cold look at the dark lord before leaping backwards into the water.


    ¡°No!¡±


    The dark lord lunged to the edge to see for himself. Just before he hit the water, the Ignaleos Cor materialized in Cipher¡¯s hand. The seawater smacked Cipher in the back of the head, chilling him to the bone. The proud son of the lion nation did not relinquish his stern affront towards Malinor. This kid would not go down without a fight. Malinor had no choice but to jump in after Cipher. The water felt like it froze onto his skin, before surging through his vanity mask, practically drowning him, but Malinor, fueled with rage, did not relent. The little brat had the gemstone the whole time! Malinor took something from the pouch on his belt and held it in his hand, muttering an enchantment underwater. He threw the clearstone and it slipped right through the water, almost unnaturally. The clearstone flew to Cipher and upon contact, all of the water in between the two of them vanished.


    Cipher fell to the ground, which consisted of dense water, like walking in the shallow end. He got to his feet but could not pick the gem up. Now that it was back in the high seas, it behaved¡­differently. Cipher did not have time or attention to spare to identify what was happening. Options were running out. He knew the dark lord would give chase, but not like this. Thankfully, Cipher still had one more trick up his sleeve. He knew this was the only way to save his life and possibly the kingdom, although what could stop the armada above? Not right now.


    ¡°Give it to me, boy.¡±


    ¡°You will never win.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s limited oxygen in this little bubble I¡¯ve created, so choose your final words carefully.¡±


    Cipher cranked the switch again. Malinor reached into his belt behind his soaked cloak and pulled out three throwing knives. Cipher initiated something but the results of which had no clear bearing on the situation at hand. He kicked some of the shallow water onto the gem and scooped it right up, swiftly taking his wrist-switch off, and attaching it to the Ignaleos Cor. Malinor released the throwing knives at Cipher before charging him.


    Cipher dodged two of the blades. He turned to shield the third throwing knife but Malinor found his mark. It hit the Ignaleos Cor and severed the wrist-switch¡¯s strap. It mattered not!


    Right before Malinor got close enough to harm Cipher he activated the wrist-switch once again and threw it, in tandem, with the Ignaleos Cor, at Malinor. The dark lord caught it and the gem imploded. The dark lord gruesomely purged from this realm in the blue misty haze. Who knew what happened to him? But, as soon as he was gone, the bubble burst and the pocket of air Cipher was standing in collapsed and flooded. The force of the impact thrashed him around. He had no control. Cipher washed away with the tide.


    Back on the deck of the flag warship, crewmen dragged Mercinestor to the brig and Admiral Zorrowfold led the fleet in the final stretch. In order to understand the invasion of the port city you had to know the city on an intimate and fundamental level. Port Caliber technically consisted of two different cities. Across the Axis River was North Caliber City, an old settlement with a recent surge of growth after they built the Arbalest Bridge. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    All the major cities in MagnaThora had their marvels and Caliber was no exception; its massive seastone Arbalest Bridge pointing north across the river, with wing-swings to draw the bridge to make way for ships going down the river. There was also Seaport Village, part castle, part coliseum, its versatility only second to the Zepathorum Citadel, able to open its walls to the masses or seal up and host the kingdom¡¯s financial market. Port Caliber was a shining example of the rise of the Pride in MagnaThora.


    Port Caliber had a very sharp, slightly above sea level, northwestern corner, pointing back into the Barren Sea. South of the curve, nothing but sandy dunes ran down the coastline. Docks and piers covered most of the northern tip, save for the beaches south. East of the tip, along the riverbed consisted mostly of ranchers for the city and the king¡¯s army. Just like the beaches, a heavy suburban area developed creating their own districts within Caliber. In between the stables, the harbor, and the beaches centered the city¡¯s greatest populous, a true example of the surging growth of a budding metropolis referred to as the downtown district. Downtown resembled the towers of Zepathorum City, housing a great many people, but where Zepathorum City¡¯s skyline was symmetrical, Caliber¡¯s was pure chaos.


    There were more people living in the downtown district than the beaches, the stables, the harbor, and North Caliber City combined. Downtown was the only district that bordered every other district, making it the central hub of the city. Admiral Zorrowfold focused the entire might of the fleet on the western coastline. The pointed tip of the bay almost looked like it corralled the dark warships into the port.


    Each ship at the front of the fleet contained a boarding party, armed and ready to catch the Lion Kingdom¡¯s defenses completely off guard. Before anyone could rally, the dark fog snuck the warships right in. Only those with a perspective either right up close or far enough away would be able to see the black sails through the shallow clouds. The first wave of ships crashed into the docks, releasing bands of raiders ready to wreak havoc. Anilithy¨¬stad was right. The dark fog was an ancient trick of the dark forces. In actuality, it was the exhaust of an ancient sentinel of the deep dark. An ancient beast the dark lord Malinor enslaved. Not only did it provide the proper cover for their attack just by polluting the air with its exhale, but the effects of its fog would infect the entire city, unleashing malignant spores of black algae, unseen to the naked eye, until it was too late. That was just the first wave.


    The Admiral had quite the onslaught planned for this invasion. The ship that landed right next to the flagship was that of the Mad Genius Spangalore, one of Malinor¡¯s closest advisors. The crew of both ships were already busy at work bringing the supplies down to make camp. Admiral Zorrowfold advanced to survey the landing zone. After the dock was a massive castle built into the cliffs of the cape.


    ¡°This will do fine. Begin setting up headquarters.¡±


    ¡°I brought a special gift for our master. Will he be long before joining us?¡± Spangalore asked.


    ¡°He was last seen fighting Cipher Casterosi down in the sea.¡±


    ¡°Oh bother, I will have to release my experiments without any further delay then. I will need access to the ground forces before they are mobilized.¡±


    ¡°As you wish. You should also know that we have a prized hostage, Lord Mercinestor Casterosi.¡±


    ¡°Oh marvelous! I will take over as his keeper. Nothing would please master more than to learn of a mutilated high lord of the lion kingdom. Ha!¡± Spangalore laughed.


    Admiral Zorrowfold spat and nodded to his subordinates. He tucked his hand into his coat and walked back onto the ship. He would see to the prisoner exchange himself. Zorrowfold was not fully convinced that Spangalore had the right to make such drastic decisions about integral members of the enemy force. They both had their own idea of the dark lord Malinor¡¯s mission.


    In his absence, they would continue his work but only to a certain degree. Admiral Zorrowfold was the one who would hold that line. He alone out of everyone in Malinor¡¯s inner council had the temperament fit for a successful military attack. Not all members of the dark lord¡¯s council would land with the first wave, but they were out there within the rest of the fleet, still traveling through the fog waiting to stake their claim on the day. Admiral Zorrowfold wanted to be here for strategic reasons. Spangalore was here because he was an absolute mad man.


    Admiral Zorrowfold would oversee the permanent installation of their base of operations. It was an important distinction for him. Storming the beaches in the first wave was the obvious option. It was wide open for the taking, but for that same reason it would make a horrible base camp. He knew if he could sneak the fleet into the harbor, like a thornet¡¯s nest, it would be impossible to uproot them.


    The harbor would remain their stronghold even after they take the city. From here, they would begin the extermination. Admiral Zorrowfold knew they would have to combat a rivaling force assembled by the native kingdom, so instead of releasing the full force of his army onto the city he took his time, and properly prepared for the siege of a nation. The first step was securing a foothold.

 Chapter 54: Axion’s Charge

    CHAPTER 54 - AXION¡¯S CHARGE


    Axion rode alone down the Epitaph Road from the mountains and wasted no time getting home. He pushed Huntross more than any horse he ever had, but the brazen colt did not relent. He even seemed to enjoy the challenge. Huntross¡¯ hooves pounded the dirt trail that split off the road. There was a moment where it didn¡¯t fully click for him. It¡¯s amazing how hyper-focused he could get on something, the idea of going home stitched right into his mind. Soon enough, a combination of minor details like the faint smell of fire on the winds and turbulent skies completed with the smoke rising from the port city forced his attention elsewhere.


    They were under attack! Axion could not believe his eyes as he got closer and closer. Panic snuck its way in. Was he too late? Was he ready for this? Mitakahn knew this would happen, but what did he say in detail? Axion had no idea. He had blocked his brother out like he did everything else. All that meant was he would be left to his own devices. The prince found the center of his nerve. The way was clear now.


    Axion rushed past his hometown with no time to spare. He could see his mother at the top of the Citadel. The bells were ringing, reinforcements were gathering at the gatehouse. From the looks of it, his uncle and cousins were leading them. Right on schedule, how could he have any doubt? Any other time and he would be right there with them.


    Axion shook his head in a symbolic gesture to break free of the spell love had over him. That time was over. He could not afford any further detour. Axion kept replaying his rationalizations over and over again in his head. He had been avoiding his return home because after King Theomitus died his world became so small all that existed was himself and the empty throne. Meeting Euphrati shattered that world in the greatest of ways, and he got lost in paradise, but the prince forgot to pick up all the pieces.


    He forgot that people needed him, including his mother and brother. He prayed to the gods that he was not too late. His neglect had already cost him Mitakahn. All he could do was fight in his little brother¡¯s place and rush to the aid of his people. Crown or not, armor or not, Axion would fight to his last breath to protect them.


    Axion passed through the port city limits. He wasted no time once inside the city and made for the center of the storm, bypassing the stables and beaches while making haste through the downtown area. Amidst the smoke and screams there was a quiet fog of shadow rolling in through the streets of the harbor, giving off a foul smell of rotten glade sprouts. Axion turned north, up the broad way, towards seaport village. Retreating townsfolk nearly tossed him off his mount.


    ¡°Make for Zepathorum City!¡± he yelled.


    He leaned down and into the turn. Once he cleared the bulk of the fleeing citizens, Axion pursued, without flinching, alone into the black midst as everyone else ran away from it. Soon the fog was so thick it looked as though he was in a different world, if not for the familiar cobblestones of the street. Perhaps it was more like being in the dark center of a storm cloud.


    One lone soldier walking into the haunted darkness.


    One warrior only to confront the impending doom.


    He saw no ally. He saw no foe. He felt it all around him. By now, he was at the docks. He could hear his horse¡¯s hooves against the wooden planks. Picture a world where all the colors of the spectrum blend into one inescapable darkness, one incurable unshakable haze.


    Axion felt a sudden jerk. Huntross had stopped, but he did not. A dark warship came crashing into the docks before them. He lost sight of his steed, and landed on the deck of the ship. Axion turned back to see if his horse was okay, but still the scene was obscured by black fog twisting and shifting all about. He looked around frantically for the blond colt, his new loyal friend. Finally, the fog in front of him began to part and clear away enough to get a good look at the bay. He got back onto his feet and re-gripped his sword. The thunder clapped in the sky, rattling the wood he was standing on. Out of the clearing smoke, he looked at the sea and succumbed to a sight unlike anything he had ever seen.


    The crooked lightning lit up the sky to reveal hundreds upon hundreds of black ships sailing towards him. Although it was still morning, some dark magic had the high clouds covering the sky, trying to eclipse the sun. To Axion, the vast armada of dark wooden ships turned the bay water to shadow. The sky opened up and rain poured upon the planks of the docks. A deep anxiety took a hold of Axion over the sheer number of incoming enemy ships.


    The farthest were only visible as tiny dots on the horizon while the closest could be seen clear enough to reveal the sigil of an amethyst dragon painted on the black sail. A dormant fear awoke inside him from seeing something like that. A primal fear. For a soldier it simply meant one thing, they were incredibly outnumbered. Screams suddenly surrounded him. This shipwreck was not yet abandoned¡­


    The dark pirates that came off the ship looked like they used to be men, but over time evil forces stripped them of their humanity. Their faces were warped and racked with torment. Known by different names, they were the damned from the Southlands, the remnants of the Dragon Kingdom, and commonly referred to as darksiders. Some more hideous than others, decorated with seared, almost burnt charcoal flesh patches of bruised scales riddling their bodies.


    Their eyes were sickly with pale white irises. Their uniforms were dirty, torn up black and amethyst cloth underneath and plated with rusted grimetal armor. They wielded rusted scimitars and misshapen blades that looked like relics from the first age.


    They attacked Axion one at a time, and he cut them down one at a time. They served no immediate threat for Prince Axion, a practiced warrior against mere pawns of the dark forces. A few more scrambled out of the wreckage, attacking in a far more chaotic manner. He parried one sword to block another, as he spun himself around, finishing off both foes. He picked up one of their fallen swords and threw it into another creature trying to escape.


    Axion looked around, overwhelmed by the amount of darkness that infested his kingdom so suddenly. Axion turned back to be faced with twenty more blood-drunk pirates. Just then, the cabin above them cracked and crumbled on top of the darksiders. As the wooden avalanche collapsed on top of them, a plank from the roof provided a means for its catalyst to slide safely down to the deck. Axion smiled and wondered if there was any other horse quite like this.


    Huntross trotted over to Axion, his horseshoes making a distinct noise against the wet southern wood planks, like a deaf clacking. Axion petted his faithful steed and remounted. They jumped down from the wreckage until they were back on the wounded dock. He now had a clear view of the harbor.


    Countless ships crashed into the piers destroying everything in their path. Axion saw scattered Pride sailors trying to gather treasures and escape. Axion rode Huntross over to one of the ships.


    ¡°My friends, prepare for departure, we must meet them head on!¡±


    ¡°But, your highness, this is not a military vessel,¡± said one sailor.


    ¡°What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Longridge.¡±


    ¡°Longridge, our kingdom is on the brink of destruction¡­Will you not join me in doing whatever it takes to save what we cherish most?¡±


    ¡°¡­. Ay¡­sir¡­What are your orders?¡± responded Longridge.


    ¡°Get your ship assail! Pull in the planks and keep them ready by the sides of the ship.¡± Axion took command of the vessel.


    Longridge gave his men Axion¡¯s orders.


    One of them rebuked, ¡°But captain, we are just one ship against hundreds.¡±


    ¡°You heard our king, we do what must be done!¡±


    Axion heard the words of Longridge and turned around to correct him, but before he could, an overwhelming sensation came upon him. He had caught a glimpse of the raw power that a king held over the spirits of his subjects. The exhilaration coursed through his chest. Axion grew brazen and eager for battle. The ship set sail, as the sailor said¡­ one against hundreds. But Axion feared not. The oncoming current of enemy ships immediately consumed their ship. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Throw the boards, do what you can, then retreat!¡± yelled Axion as he kicked Huntross to cross the planks, now connecting their ship to the enemy.


    Axion ran Huntross over to the dark deck, sword drawn and cut down the darksiders awaiting battle. He dismounted Huntross, as the mighty horse ran a quick circuit around the ship trampling all the foes on the deck. Axion killed any opponent unfortunate enough to get in his way and then found the ship¡¯s wheel and turned it towards a collision course.


    Axion whistled, quickly got back on the saddle, and awaited the crash. In a short moment, the dark ships came together in a splintery explosion along the colliding sides. Axion and Huntross anticipated the collision and leapt over to the next ship at precisely the right time and followed the same routine. They began to make waste of the standing legion waiting to be unleashed upon the shores. Axion steered the ship into another one as Huntross fought off the remaining sailors behind him with ample hind-leg kicks.


    It was not long before the fleets became wise to their strategy. Spears and arrows began to rain down on them from all around. Axion feared for Huntross¡¯ life. The ship they were on was rapidly sinking after the devastating blow it took from Axion¡¯s previously appropriated ship. It was too difficult to steer. Water was seeping in through the cracks of the deck. Soon they would either drown or be downed by spears and arrows.


    Axion¡¯s brave strategy turned out to be rather short-sighted and not well formulated to say the least. The key feature he had forgotten¡­ an escape plan. The ship was almost completely submerged, so Axion got back on Huntross, preparing to gallop across the shallow wreckage until they made it ashore, a desperate attempt at survival.


    Before they capsized, a plank slammed onto the side of the ship behind Axion. It was Longridge and his crew. Two sailors, armed with bows, shot arrows at the surrounding ships, providing cover fire for Axion and Huntross. They boarded back on and Axion quickly said, ¡°Make for the docks!¡±


    The crew turned the ship towards the shore; in front of them, a catastrophe of smoldering wreckage, both ship and pier alike. Behind them, still a vast fleet of forthcoming warships.


    Axion turned to Longridge and said, ¡°Captain, what do you call this ship? Besides a blessing¡­¡±


    ¡°The Iditarod¡±


    ¡°If we make it through this day... The Iditarod is to be the flagship of the king¡¯s new navy. What say you?¡±


    ¡°Ay, King. We, the crew of the Iditarod, are humbly yours.¡±


    There it was again. The sting. The words danced right out of his mouth without him even noticing¡­the king¡¯s new navy. It¡¯s funny how ambiguous phrases can be without even trying. Axion fully meant his father, his father¡¯s new navy, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was dead. But the sailor just assumed Axion was referring to himself in the third person and it ended up working on different levels. But it was not like Axion to let it go.


    ¡°I am not king, Longridge. Not yet, at least¡­¡±


    ¡°You are today,¡± Captain Longridge unofficially ordained.


    ¡°Drop me off at the closest pier. Then find a safe place to store the ship. Set sail if you have to. Save as many as you can. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Ay, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. You have done well this day. But you are more useful to us alive for whatever is to come next.¡±


    Before Longridge could answer, a crewman interrupted, ¡°Sir, there is only one pier in sight for a drop-off, and it is quickly approaching the starboard side.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Fines. That is your cue, your highness.¡±


    ¡°You come find me when this is all over, Captain¡± bid Axion. If there is anything left¡­


    ¡°May the gods go with you, a soldier of the Pride, in ever-lasting glory,¡± replied Longridge.


    Axion felt a quick hiccup in his heart. Something about what Longridge had just said got to him, but he did not know why. So instead, he concentrated on getting across to the pier and back to the shore. Huntross leapt off the boat and galloped down the wooden boards. Unexpectedly, the dark ship behind Axion crashed down upon them, almost forcing Huntross off the pier. He quickly rushed back to land, Southern wood clad in grimetal shattering the pier, twisting and ripping it to pieces. The explosion chased them. Axion yelled at Huntross to give his sprint all of his might, for the collapsing boards of the pier were nipping at the horse¡¯s hooves.


    The prince and his horse came hurtling up the pier as the splinter-filled tidal wave ate up everything behind them. Axion made it to where the docks met the streets, quickly followed by a hard hit in the back from the wave of wrecked warships, throwing him off his horse. When the broken water washed over him and pulled back into the sea to regroup, Axion found himself once again, horseless.


    Axion got up, his head pounding. Every bone in his body ached. He looked around for his sword, his sight blurred by the pain. A royal shield washed by him, a bad omen for the city defenses. Axion stopped the shield with his foot and picked it up. He found his sword just a couple of paces forward. He could not worry about Huntross right now, as much as he wanted to, because Axion now found himself amidst a gathering army from the amethyst ships.


    The evil soldiers were forming ranks and marching forward. Axion went unnoticed coming from behind them and cut them right up the middle. They were startled and scattered, breaking rank. Axion, after dividing their forces in half, found himself along the edge of the flank.


    There, just above the sandy trenches that the dark army had dug out in between the ruined docks, a familiar line of troops marched towards him, engaging in battle. So far, his assault of the enemy had led him far enough south along the coastline to be at the beaches. Axion caught something out of the corner of his eye before he could make a run for it. Washed up ashore face down in the wet dunes lay Cipher Casterosi. In a fevered sprint, Axion rushed for Cipher. He cut down anyone who stood in his way. Axion cracked crudely through the armor of the attacking darksiders, dispatching of the enemies to save his comrade.


    Axion¡¯s sword stabbed the sand as he used both hands to turn Cipher over. The prince frantically searched for signs of life. He shook Cipher and called his name as sand splashed everywhere, begging him to snap out of it. Axion put his ear up close to his mouth. There was no breath. Axion pressed down on Cipher¡¯s chest in succinct motions to get him to wake up. Axion was worried it was too late. That was when Cipher keeled over and coughed up seawater. Axion became flush with relief. He could exhale too. Unfortunately for them, there was no time to waste.


    Axion slung the shield over his back, lifted Cipher up by the arm, threw that same arm over his shoulder, and jogged toward the frontline. He heard the clanking of dimwitted foes striking his shield, attempting to cut them down from behind. In the heat of the moment Axion wanted to turn around and show these cowards a true fight. Unfortunately, when it came down to it, half of warfare was making the right split decision, weighing factors with consequences. The ends always had to justify the means. Right now, that meant getting Cipher to safety and rallying their ranks. Axion pushed on, ignoring his foe and carried Cipher away from the shore.


    They crossed the neutral zone, and Axion called out. The Caliber Militia quickly recognized their arrival and swarmed around him. Axion and Cipher were absorbed into the standing ranks of the Port Caliber Free Militia. In normal times, they were considered a volunteer branch of the Pride military, a tiny branch, more of a corner really, the reserves. Axion had experience training some of them. Good people, farmers and merchants mostly, but stout-hearted and eager to learn. They understood the importance of being able to defend your home and family when no help was coming. Axion never thought he would see the day when they would be saving his life.


    Axion handed Cipher off to a mediciner, unhinged his shield, and regrouped with his soldiers. The relief that came with support felt good, just knowing they were guarding their backs. He missed the feeling. It was now time for Axion to take up the mantle of commander once again. Thanks to his father, this would not be the first time he would be met with the challenge. Not many knew what it felt like to possess the ability to land a punch with the force of a battalion of troops behind it. Theomitus made sure Axion knew as future king.


    Axion assessed his small force. ¡°How did you get here?¡±


    ¡°Galastad rallied us here before taking the others to evacuate the city.¡±


    Axion had an idea of what Galastad had in mind. He divided the militia into two groups: defending their stronghold and an offensive wave. Their allies were out there. All he had to do was connect the dots. The prince led the charge back towards the enemy front. He rushed forward, cutting down whatever evil that crossed paths with him. His concerns now turned towards looking for Anilithy¨¬stad, which to him only meant one thing. Taking the fight back into the harbor district.


    ¡°Uncle! Uncle Anilithy¨¬stad!¡± the prince screamed over the rain as he saw no sign of the Metuchen knight.


    More and more ships were crashing into the docks as the battle raged on in the streets. The harbor district was decimated. They had no regard for harming their own boats. The sheer number of ships invading. No, they were not here to just invade but to conquer. It was impossible, the bombardment was merciless, and the fleet was endless. If they were not careful¡­this could mean the extinction of the Pride. In the eye of this raging battle, Axion had to get a fresh breath; he had to find his uncle. Even if they were fully prepared for this battle there would be no certain victory.


    From the right side of the battlefield came an unnatural current, throwing dark troops left and right. The tremble was heading straight for Axion. It looked enormous. Whatever monster this was, it targeted Axion. Axion took an apprehensive step backwards, but then decided to confront this powerful beast head-to-head. His own lines broke before engaging and he could see what was coming for him. It was Huntross. The horse had found him. Axion¡¯s heart lifted. He got back on his trusted steed, and looked around, now at a better vantage point, for his uncle.

 Chapter 55: Chance Meeting

    CHAPTER 55 ¨C CHANCE MEETING


    Translucent pulse-waves rang out around him as he clutched the Ignaleos Cor. As far as Malinor could tell he was phasing in and out of the Cor realm. The gemstone was not reacting well to the phase-shift. It was tearing itself apart in the process. The ocean gem radiated within Malinor¡¯s hand. He could feel the burning sensation. He did not release his clutch. He let the pain cover his forearms. The gem was behaving erratically. What was happening to it was completely unnatural, brought on by human meddling. He could not handle the unyielding weight it was putting on him. His strength was failing. The burning sensation took a hold of him. He had no choice. The pain seeped into him mercilessly, overwhelming him. Malinor screamed.


    The dark lord conjured a cry so loud it mimicked that of his kingdom¡¯s namesake. The scream was echoed from the clouds. After a few minutes the clouds parted by an unnatural current. The silhouette of wings darted across the sky, swooping and enlarging as it got closer and closer. A dragon landed beside Malinor as he suffocated under the Ignaleos Cor.


    He kicked and squirmed, splashing white sand everywhere. The dragon walked up close to Malinor, allowing him to get a good look while still getting crushed by the gem. He could see a rider mounted on the approaching redback dragon. The dragon tried to kick the gem off Malinor. Unfortunately for him, it did not budge.


    The dragon rider had the dragon fly back around and shoulder charge into the immovable gem. No matter what they tried it was too powerful. The rider dismounted and took out her canteen. Malinor now realized she was female. She poured the water from the canteen onto the gem and down off Malinor, onto the sand.


    A wave of release washed over Malinor. The Ignaleos Cor slid off his chest and down into the sand. Malinor tried to get up but his strength was gone. He stumbled to one knee.


    ¡°I humble myself before you, my lady. You have won my favor by saving my life.¡±


    ¡°I am weary from travel. Everything in MagnaThora looks different, but your cloak and garbs¡­are you a warrior of the southlands? A follower of the great dragon lord?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am the dark lord Malinor of GrimmFell, warden of the cove, Dracobra¡¯s chosen exalted.¡±


    ¡°Lord Malinor, it is an honor to be amongst the exalted, I, Zora of Morticomb, forgesmith of the caverns, Dracobra¡¯s disciple, offer you my services in your quests for the god of darkness.¡±


    Malinor bowed to the dragon rider, trying his hardest not to reveal the smirk fighting through the corner of his mouth. This dragon rider confused Malinor without a doubt. The important thing to understand was even though Malinor had no explanation as to who she was or where she came from, he had already figured out that she followed the ancient ways of the dragon kingdom. He used this to his advantage. He could figure the rest out along the way. The dragon tribe was once the most devout of the human races. Malinor knew how to tap into that fanatical kind of worship. This well drew deep. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°I was separated from my armada by a northern warlock. He used that god awful gem to do his bidding. The power of the north grows tremendously, if we continue to let it go unchecked, they will become a threat even greater than the cascade.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not possible.¡±


    ¡°They already wield the treasures of the gods like toys.¡±


    ¡°Where is your armada?¡±


    ¡°Port Caliber.¡±


    Zora looked directly at Malinor upon hearing those last words. Something was not quite right about all of this, about him, that deplorable mask. She decided for the time being to hide her skepticism and fall into the familial role of the loyal subject. It felt good.


    ¡°It will take some time. I just came from that way. I will escort you back and do my part to insure our kingdom¡¯s victory over the hostile northerners.¡±


    She bowed and climbed back atop the massive dragon. Malinor struggled to stand back up. His strength was depleted. Even his new companion looked tired. They needed to rest but more importantly he needed to get back. Malinor took a ruby cube from his belt and crushed it. The miniature walls broke with resin that expanded in his hand. Glowing red cracks grew from the black like lava. Malinor blew on the resin and the cracks vented red smoke. He inhaled the vapors and his eyes turned bright red. His fatigue was gone. He bounced from one foot to the other and no longer felt the weight of his gear. His strength had returned, albeit artificially. He approached Zora.


    ¡°This is nectopyre vapors. It provides a short burst of energy. I can dose your dragon and fly him so you can get some rest.¡±


    I am familiar with that kind of vapor. It has short term benefits as well as long term side effects. I cannot condone feeding Fathom this narcotic.


    That¡¯s what she wanted to say.


    Something about his demeanor terrified her. It wasn¡¯t just how quickly she discovered, she could not trust his word. It was almost the exact opposite of her time spent with Mitakahn. He was earnest and approachable, he just confused her with his words. Zora looked at the fiery eyes behind the vanity mask. This was not a man to be trifled with. Was this what her home had become? If she truly was in the future¡­


    ¡°As you wish, my lord.¡±


    She had to choose her steps carefully. Fathom was a strong dragon. He would overcome any negative repercussions of the drug and he would do very well in battle. Malinor gathered the attention of Fathom who waved his long red scaled neck away from the dark lord before being lured in by the scent of the vapor resin. Malinor was a natural dragon whisperer. He held onto Fathom¡¯s jowls intimately as the dragon inhaled the nectopyre vapors. Zora slid back to make room for Malinor who took the reins. Fathom shivered and roared fire into the air. The fire tinted blue and hints of indigo. Zora had not seen such wildness in her dragon¡¯s flame since his adolescent age. He abruptly took flight and Malinor laughed at the thrill of dragon riding. The trio headed north.

 Chapter 56: The Beaches

    CHAPTER 56 ¨C THE BEACHES


    Axion escaped the harbor district as it continued to collapse. He was completely overwhelmed. The only thing keeping him afloat was riding on Huntross through the fight. He managed to recover a Caliber spear for good measure. Axion could always appreciate the range and dexterity of a spear, compared to a longsword. They retreated into the downtown district and used the cover of the buildings to regroup. Along with Huntross, he led a small battalion of militia into street skirmishes. He knew few faces within the ranks. These men were reserves. They had no idea what to do, so they put the uniform on, and the training kicked in. Galastad, who was also somewhere out there in the chaos, galvanized them and put them to work. Now they rallied behind Prince Axion and helped keep Cipher Casterosi safe.


    Underneath the tightest and tallest section of the port¡¯s urban area, his searching finally paid off. He saw his uncle leading a battalion of troops into a fight. Axion broke loose with Huntross in a mad dash toward his uncle. There was no clear front, strictly chaos. His comrades were getting cut down all around the Metuchen knight. The evil started to surround Anilithy¨¬stad.


    Axion unlatched his spear and threw it, pinning two darksiders to the ground. He picked up pace and trampled over five more enemies, as he jumped off his horse and landed with a killing stroke right by Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s side. The two, now back-to-back without a word uttered, kept a constant rotation slicing down any soldier that approached them. Axion¡¯s regiment caught up to him and combined with Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s response team. Port Caliber militia, Zepathorum guard, and Metuchen cavalrymen all pushed forward.


    ¡°Uncle¡­they have more ships than we have men. I have seen it with my own eyes.¡±


    ¡°You are here, lad. That¡¯s all that matters. We will fight on¡­together. Yes. like the old days with your father. Come!¡± Anilithy¨¬stad screamed out as he remounted his horse and Axion remounted Huntross, ¡°Nothing can beat the power of our houses combined.¡± Anilithy¨¬stad smiled and held his hand out to his nephew.


    Axion knew this as what Anilithy¨¬stad and Theomitus used to say to each other on the battlefield because he went to sleep most nights as a child listening to his father regale him with house legends of old, per request of course. Huntross turned to get Axion as close as he could to his uncle. They grabbed each other¡¯s forearms and nodded their heads. Axion felt something right at this moment. A deep tread that traveled through him to the core of the Lion Kingdom. Pieces of his life smashed together carving out his path before him. There was a current to this fight that he would not be aware of right away.


    ¡°Reform the lines!¡±


    A dispatcher rushed towards them, ¡°Sir, they are taking the beaches.¡±


    ¡°I sent Mortikahn with a small squad to scout the beaches.¡±


    ¡°We must rush to his aid. We can fortify from there, Uncle.¡±


    ¡°The evacuation of the main street district is of upmost priority.¡±


    ¡°I know this city better than most. I can coordinate at the beach. It is our best option to make a stand. Thanks to Galastad, the procedure is well underway downtown already. If we can hold them at the beach, it will act like a shield for the rest of the city.¡±


    ¡°What about the harbor to the north?¡±


    ¡°We can dispatch another regiment to shield downtown from both sides.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad deliberated briefly before letting Axion take the lead with a nod of the head. Axion marched their regiment to the beaches, leaving a small contingent behind to keep their path clear for retreat while simultaneously acting out Axion¡¯s orders. He used civil servants for evacuation protocol in an attempt to spare troops. It was quite a sight to see. In the city¡¯s darkest hour, everyone worked together to retreat to Zepathorum. Soldiers handing over children to scribes, clerics, teachers. Even the judges and prestigents were helping where they could.


    The civil servants got them the rest of the way while the militia, royal guards, and Metuchen cavalrymen drew their weapons to combat the rogue darksiders breaking through the fight. The clusters of buildings would prove the hardest to mobilize, not to mention the overspill of people fleeing the harbor. This district would take the longest to evacuate. There was no denying that fact. This meant that the battle would end here. Axion kept that in the back of his mind. Compartmentalize when you can, but don¡¯t start using it as a coping mechanism.


    Axion worried it would be near impossible to confine the enemy to one front. The best they could do was hope to distract them enough to pull the fronts together, like a knoll-fly to the light. Axion led his regiment to where the clustered docks of the harbor gave way to the open dunes of the beaches. Just on the other side of the dunes were the huddled houses and neighborhoods. Axion saw his cousin Mortikahn and his men getting people out of their houses. Mortikahn stopped what he was doing when he saw Axion looking over at him. He pointed forward. Just beyond them were ships landing ashore behind those already there.


    Axion brandished his sword and turned Huntross into a full sprint. Anilithy¨¬stad pulled off with his own vanguard to cover them as Axion led a wave of soldiers into the pillaging darksiders. They crashed into the preoccupied enemies and scattering them. Anilithy¨¬stad watched as the battle ensued. The side of the beach Axion was on began to take the upper hand. Anilithy¨¬stad mobilized his guard and flanked the remaining enemies between the houses and the dunes.


    They wiped them out, converging with Axion¡¯s men and pushing the remaining darksiders back to the shore. As they gained momentum, for a brief second, Axion thought they might have a chance. There were more ships approaching behind the ones which had landed since the first wave was pushed back. Axion had found his line in the sand. He called the banners and set up a forward camp. It was now or never. His numbers seemed to be growing every time he looked around, word was getting out. This was the rallying point. Axion kept an eye on his cousin moving from neighborhood to neighborhood, escorting the beach folk out of the city. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Axion!¡±


    Axion turned Huntross around to find Cipher Casterosi on his feet.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡±


    ¡°They have my father.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°I must save him.¡±


    ¡°Where are they keeping him?¡±


    ¡°The flagship.¡±


    Axion¡¯s face worsened. He got off his horse and approached Cipher on the beach with the battle raging around them.


    ¡°You have seen the flagship of this fleet?¡±


    ¡°And their leader. Axion, if he did not die from what I threw at him then there is no defeating this kind of foe.¡±


    ¡°What did you throw at him?¡±


    ¡°The Ignaleos Cor.¡±


    Axion took two looks at Cipher.


    ¡°We are overseeing the evacuation of the city.¡±


    ¡°I must save my father before it is too late.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea where they took him. I found you in a puddle.¡±


    ¡°I can take the secret tunnels to Sea Port Village and infiltrate their ranks from within.¡±


    ¡°Help me clear the beach and I will join you.¡±


    ¡°I cannot delay. Time is of the essence, your highness.¡±


    ¡°Cipher, wait! There is no one, besides you and your mother, that values your father¡¯s well-being more than me, both as a loved one, and an integral cog in this kingdom¡¯s hierarchy. House Casterosi is the crown¡¯s oldest ally. In that same spirit you must agree we are nothing without this city and its people and the bonds we keep to them. Our fathers are not here to stand and fight so we will do so in their stead for the Pride! Are you with me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course, my father would want me to fight for those who cannot fight themselves. I am with you, prince. For the Pride!¡±


    ¡°Come! We push forward and take back what is ours!¡±


    Axion and Cipher pointed their swords in the air and the soldiers around them cheered in Caliber pride. They ran together down the long sand dunes for the massing darksiders. Once again Anilithy¨¬stad played the conservative, using his own detail to cover the brazen actions of the prince.


    Axion loved running downhill into an enemy line of troops. He lunged himself through the lines, parrying the spears with his sword and rolling into two darksiders, knocking them back. He created an opening in the line of spears allowing Cipher and his men to funnel in. Axion and Cipher cut enemy after enemy down with ease. They were more sailors than fighters. These were not the real foe. Axion tried his hardest to stay one step ahead. Their men rushed past them and regained formation. The spears were down, their ranks were broken. One more push and they could back them up to their own ships. If only it was that easy.


    Axion just couldn¡¯t help himself. He kept peering over the fight in front of him to check on the invading ships, more and more landed on the shores as they fought. The enemy numbers bolstered up to match theirs. The shift in the battle sobered Axion¡¯s focus. His men fought sword-in-hand in front of him. They were willing to die for him, for this city. He could not risk all their lives over such a hopeless endeavor.


    He had to call them off. The forward camp they were setting up would have to be practically mobile. This was a losing battle. The only way they could win would be by controlled retreating, getting everyone out of the city before the scale tipped entirely for the enemy. It was just a matter of time before the dragon kingdom fleet took the city.


    Axion tried to look at it like Mitakahn would. If he could make the necessary distinction between letting the city fall and saving the city folk, both could happen simultaneously. In other words, if they planned to lose they could still save lives. Then he would need to muster the banners of the Serengeti before Zepathorum was surrounded.


    That truth hit him like a brick wall. It meant prioritizing the country over the city. These were the kinds of decisions ruler¡¯s dread. All these crazy thoughts rushing through his head and the only two people who could help him make sense of it all were dead or gone. If only Axion had listened to Mitakahn. They would have been ready for this or at least his little brother would be right by his side through it.


    Axion called his men back from the brink and defended the camp. Cipher oversaw the last of the beach neighborhood evacuation along with Mortikahn and they returned to Axion and Anilithy¨¬stad asserting their influence throughout the fractured city.


    A dispatcher rushed in behind Cipher and Mortikahn.


    ¡°Sir, the trebuchets and catapults are ready.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad digested the information and gave his orders, ¡°Good. Muster what¡¯s left of Mortikahn¡¯s men for the beaches and aim the trebuchets and catapults at the waters lining the coast-¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± interrupted Axion, ¡°This battle is already over. We must think about a different strategy.¡±


    ¡°What will you have me do, nephew?¡± begged Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Fire the catapults and trebuchets against the bridge.¡±


    ¡°Destroy our own land?¡±


    ¡°The bridge crosses the river to North Caliber. It will cause a blockade and trap them in the bay, buying the rest of the Pride more time. Not to mention lands beyond our kingdom.¡±


    Axion was right and Anilithy¨¬stad knew this. So, he did not hesitate. ¡°Do what your commander has ordered,¡± said Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°All catapults are ready, sir.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s make it count. Fire!¡± screamed out Axion.


    A horn blew and then thirty-three other horns blew around the city. Massive boulders and slabs of rock were launched into the rain-bitten air. Axion watched from his horse as the bridge in the northern distance was demolished. The wreckage of the docks was caught by the crumbling bridge and created a dam of splintered wood and fragmented stone.


    Axion¡¯s plan had worked. The attacking armada was cut off from the river. Now the enemy only had one choice, to come down with all their might on Port Caliber. A choice that seemed like they had already made.


    ¡°Keep firing on the fleet until each site is out of ammunition, then sabotage the catapults, and evacuate the city.¡±

 Chapter 57: The Harbor

    CHAPTER 57 ¨C THE HARBOR


    Axion knew it was time to go save Mercinestor, but the retreat could not stop in his absence. He tasked Anilithy¨¬stad with holding the line. Cipher would go with him back into the harbor district.


    ¡°Mortikahn,¡± the rain continued to pour, ¡°You have done well with one district, now take all the troops you have and go meet up with Jericho at the stables. Finish there as best you can and then meet us downtown.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got it, Axion.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, little cousin.¡±


    Mortikahn turned around after taking a few steps away, ¡°You too,¡± and gave Axion a look of pure worry. Axion was proud of what a capable warrior Mortikahn had become. There was a time when he was the baby of the family. Now he was saving children by the armfuls. Before the princesses, Axion and Mortikahn represented the first and last of King Avalahn¡¯s descendants. As the first born grandson, Axion had a special bond with all of his cousins. The Borigini dynasty was strong even in the northern branches of the Arkenoir House. Axion had surrounded himself with the people he counted on most for this battle. He thanked the gods and his father for this fortune.


    Alas, the two separated and headed for different parts of the compromised city. Axion shed his travelers gear and crimson riding cape for a cloak and hood. Together with Cipher they disappeared into the city¡¯s shadow. Anilithy¨¬stad stayed back to fight the good fight while they still could. The harbor was lost and adjacent to the beaches. All the battle could do was distract some of the enemy forces from moving into the city. There was nothing standing between the innocent city folk and the invading dragon soldiers. So Anilithy¨¬stad sent as many as he could spare to their aid. The idea being that all of this would end in the city streets, culminating in the complete evacuation.


    This battle was no battle at all. Anilithy¨¬stad had done the math, and once you do the math there¡¯s nothing left but to see events unfold as predicted. The harbor was lost. North Caliber was saved by Axion¡¯s swift decision to sacrifice the bridge. The beaches were fully evacuated, and the stables were soon to be. Port Caliber¡¯s extremities will survive, three out of four districts saved, not a bad score. All that mattered now was the preservation of the inner-city district, the lion kingdom¡¯s most populous area.


    For now, Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s best strategy was to burn as bright as possible at the beaches and buy enough time for the people to get to safety before the entire city collapsed. That was all he could wrap his mind around right now. He could not even consider what to do after they lost the city. Get Mitakahn back? Thank the gods he had the forethought to send for help from Metuchen when he did. Really all he had to do was get inside the gates of Zepathorum, one of the world¡¯s most fortified cities and wait for help to arrive. That freed him up to focus on the here and now. That meant smashing skulls on the beach for as long as he could manage. And these skulls were dirty. So Anilithy¨¬stad processed through the dirty work unceremoniously. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers and beat back the enemy forces.


    The streets of the harbor were surprisingly quiet. At this point, the initial impact zone was fight or flight. The ones that chose flight were long gone. The ones who chose to fight, well¡­ the streets were too quiet for their stories to have ended well. Most of the city blocks were filled with smoke and debris, sparse fires and building collapses took them by surprise. They became more frequent the closer they got back to the water. It was no longer so quiet. From afar, the sound of wooden ships crashing into the docks sounded more like the ocean. Axion never thought he would be able to define the nuances of hearing an enemy naval attack up close and from afar.


    These were indeed dark times. When they could, the two lords of the kingdom helped the fleeing townsfolk get to safety, or at the very least, the path to safety. Cipher barely broke his gate. His focus was on his father¡¯s rescue. He rushed across the street corner and before them was a municipal water pump. Beyond it a well to the city¡¯s water irrigation system.


    ¡°The entrance to the tunnel is down there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of this but never seen it for myself. It will take us into the dungeons of Sea Port Village.¡±


    ¡°Seaport Village is the most northern tip of the port and completely fortified on all sides. If they are not held up there, then we will be able to take them by surprise attacking from there.¡±


    ¡°It is a good plan, Cipher.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m glad you are here with me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you¡­but I am getting the overwhelming sensation that by the time we get back to the surface, the city will be lost.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to think like that. We must hurry.¡±


    The two descended into the tunnel system. For a moment, a very brief moment, the break from the rain felt nice. The darkness quickly surrounded them as they delved deeper and deeper below the city. Axion followed Cipher, just like when they were inside the Cor realm. Cipher always seemed to walk with purpose. Where Axion felt more comfortable in the soldier role, Cipher felt more comfortable in the explorer role. They trekked through the dark dingy tunnels under Port Caliber. The darkness was the least of their worries. The rancid smell of human feces was almost too much to bear, and they weren¡¯t even in the sewer tunnel, merely sewer adjacent. As they passed the exits to the surface, Axion noticed Cipher was counting.


    After the thirty-seventh exit pathway Cipher turned left and continued down a new hallway. They made haste down the tunnel until it reached its end. Axion stopped when Cipher stopped. They both looked up at the winding stairwell. It was narrow and steep but made for a quick escape. When they reached the outside,it was still raining.


    Most of the other exit pathways led to buildings, houses, and sheds, but not this one. Cipher and Axion walked out onto the cliffside of Seaport Village. The docks were covered in dark sails. Cipher got down behind one of the boulderocks and surveyed the immediate area. He saw a large body of dragon kingdom troops massing at Seaport Village Boulevard. That could only mean one thing. Cipher tracked the troops, their servants, and the sailors dissembling ships and assembling camp all back to the ships they came in on.


    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s the flagship?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes I am. What happened on the deck of that ship I will likely never forget.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to doubt you. We are just putting a lot on the line here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. I wouldn¡¯t ask you to do this otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Do you think he is still on the ship?¡±


    ¡°My gut tells me they likely took him somewhere, but how could we even begin to guess where. We have to search the flagship for clues.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping to avoid the whole¡­search the flagship¡­part.¡±


    ¡°We will be quick and quiet. We will go unseen.¡±


    Axion followed Cipher down the ledge and over to a gazebo crossing the stretch of the courtyard right before the first pier. They snuck out onto the wooden boarding planks. The flagship was mostly empty at this point. Cipher got to where the dark lord had been torturing Mercinestor. He even saw some blood. They looked around but nothing really popped out at them.


    ¡°So, we know he is still alive, and they couldn¡¯t have taken him far. He has to be at the village. They could have hidden him in any of the number of houses surrounding us.¡±


    ¡°Any kind of military training from any kingdom would advise keeping your jail in the most fortified local area.¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t leaving here until we find him. Should we split up to cover more ground and search twice as fast?¡± asked Axion.


    ¡°No, we should stick together and be patient. The gods will light the way sooner or later.¡±


    ¡°Praise be eternal.¡±


    ¡°Follow me.¡±


    They snuck up on an approaching unsuspecting sailor and Cipher disarmed him and threw him over to Axion who put him in a headlock. The sailor passed out and Axion stashed him away. They slid over the boarding planks back to the pier. Instead of heading northwest back to the cliffs, they went east to the castle embedded in the cliffs. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Long ago, the castle of a fallen house of the Pride was decommissioned and renovated into Seaport Village. Most of the inside of the castle was gutted and the main southern wall was completely blown out. This kind of setup provided a perfect foundation for a new city center. In modern times it was being used as the kingdom¡¯s main thoroughfare. Now it was being used as a base of operations by the enemy. This simply cannot stand.


    ¡°Odds are he is inside Seaport Village, we start there.¡±


    ¡°There is a crate outside the windchime shack that leads directly to the office window inside the marketplace.¡±


    Cipher hesitated and gave a brief smirk.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know how you know that.¡±


    ¡°Hey, listen, I didn¡¯t ask any questions when we were down in the bowels of the city with the scum.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    They crawled by the guards and got up onto the side of the castle. Axion brought Cipher to the window and propped him up to access it. He got it open and crawled through, turning around, and giving Axion a hand up. They both got inside and drew their swords. Luckily for them, the office they were occupying had a window that overlooked the lion¡¯s share of the marketplace.


    ¡°There!¡± Cipher exclaimed.


    He ran into the hallway, down to the stairs. Axion rushed after him. He panicked as they rushed past some of the same people they were just trying to avoid only moments ago. Cipher completely shed all of the strategy and stealth he accrued getting to this point. Axion had no doubt that Cipher saw his father through the office window and the reason why he was acting so erratically. Nothing else mattered anymore. Guards met them in the hallway that led to the main room. Axion took a defensive stance as Cipher sprinted by him. He quickly repositioned into an attack stance and charged along with Cipher. This was it. They would have to fight their way out.


    Axion knocked the first sailor down with his shoulder, while he followed through, swinging his sword into the approaching sailor¡¯s skull. Cipher made quick work of his opponents as well. By the time they got to the main courtyard Mercinestor was being presented out in the open as bait.


    Cipher ran out to him and Axion covered them. This was not good. He looked all around. There were people on the balconies. They would be easily spotted. There was not much around them for cover, just abandoned hay squares and barrels, overturned scaffolding from a former marketplace. Like clockwork, as soon as they got to Mercinestor in the center of the arena, they were surrounded and the way they came was closed off.


    Cipher tossed his sword to Axion as he helped his father out of his bounds. His face was bruised and beaten, not to mention where the dark lord used the phantom sword on him. Dark veins ran down that side of his face from his temple to his eye. His pupil lost its color and almost all of the hair on his head was peppered with gray. Still, after all of that and who knows what more, the old warrior was still able to get to his feet. Now he just needed a weapon.


    ¡°Congratulations, gentlemen.¡± A voice came from an upper echelon balcony.


    His wiry hair was greased over and parted to the side almost ineffectively. Besides that, his coat was of fine quality, and he bore the accolades of a senior officer within the ranks of the dragon kingdom navy. He did not look like a soldier. He seemed more like an advisor or a scientist. He laughed at them as he cleaned the silver bifocals and placed them back on over his eyes.


    ¡°It appears as though you walked right into my trap. Which works perfectly for me. You see, we have been stalling while we wait for the dark lord to return. I knew you would come for him. Now I will throw everything I¡¯ve got at you and whatever works; I¡¯ll use in the field. It¡¯s a genius plan. The dark lord will be so pleased with my efforts. Oh, I do apologize for the wait, without further delay, please welcome to the dueling pit the Spangalore contenders!¡±


    The doors swung open and out walked fierce warriors of the dragon kingdom. ¡°Here¡¯s the fun part, my champions are known in the SouthLands as the night guard, you northerners have another name for them¡­¡±


    ¡°By gods,¡± Mercinestor mumbled under his mustache, ¡°the Necrogallion.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­what a harsh deal for you.¡± Spangalore let out a baby¡¯s cry. ¡°Well, here¡¯s what I can¡¯t do¡­let you go. Haha! Here is what I can do though¡­¡± He pulled his right sleeve up, pointing his elbow out.


    ¡°Arm you.¡±


    Spangalore reached down and tossed Mercinestor¡¯s sword to the ground from the balcony. ¡°Makes no sense, right? Alternatively, it cannot be a true test without a capable threat. So making sense will have to wait. Let the fun begin!¡±


    ¡°The krakenwreck.¡± Cipher and Mercinestor both declared at the same time as they stared at the sword, now within reach.


    Axion looked at the Casterosi men, confused in the moment. Did they not just hear the utter insanity coming from the balcony? Mercinestor made his way for the sword in between Cipher and Axion defending him from the encroaching enemy.


    He limped and dragged himself the rest of the way, sliding his open palm on the ground until it covered the hilt of the sword. When Mercinestor grasped the krakenwreck he was able to stand up straight, ¡°It¡¯s time I show you, boys,¡± and looked them right in the eyes, both eyes, ¡°what I took with me from the Ignaleos Cor.¡±


    Cipher smiled.


    The faded pupil was now completely rejuvenated, and the stained veins pulled back clean from under his eye, all the way up to his temple, where the reaper blade made contact. Even his swollen lip and the other bruises on his face lessened, nearly vanishing, but not the white hair in his mustache that remained. He walked in front of them, ready stance, exuding the energy of a man renewed. He led Axion and Cipher into the fight against the Necrogallion.


    The dark soldiers moved unnaturally fast. They were the enemy elite. The dragon vanguard. In no time they surrounded the three of them. Mercinestor cut any that were unfortunate enough to cross his path into pieces . These ancient myths, legendary invincible undefeatable champions of the Southlands, immediately felled by the mighty steel of Castle Rosi Island.


    Axion could not believe the old liege lord had this much vigor left in his step after all of that torture. Then he saw the crystal blue glow reminiscent of the Corscape emanating from Mercinestor¡¯s sword-wielding hand. It was an inspirational sight, giving all three of them a rush of energy. Together they cut down their enemy for Spangalore to see. He was no longer so happy. In fact, he was rather mad.


    ¡°Impossible!¡±


    He pounded his fist like a gavel on the stone balcony and ordered his guards to summon the next wave of fighters.


    ¡°You only wish it would be that easy!¡± the mad scientist taunted.


    He continued to his subordinates, ¡°Release a champion this time.¡±


    The largest man Axion had ever seen squeezed through the arena doors. His entire left arm was missing from the elbow down, but it was not replaced with emptiness. Starting from the grotesque¡¯s face, patchy burnt steel ran down the shoulder to the elbow joint, twisting into a spearhead at the end of it.


    ¡°They gave that thing a weapon for an arm.¡±


    Axion and Cipher charged at the new opponent before it could get its bearings, while Mercinestor took a step back. The monster was slow and dumb. Except it had no trouble swatting both Axion and Cipher away with one swing. Cipher bounced right back up and made a quick advance, sliding on his knees between the creature¡¯s stumpy legs. He sliced at them with his sword and barely seemed to make a scratch. The hide was tough. Was this thing even human? The champion kicked Cipher away. This time he didn¡¯t spring back up so quick.


    Axion on the other hand was in a defensive stance, parrying arrows from the archers. He angled one deflection in just the right way so the arrow ricocheted into the grotesque¡¯s face. Axion pulled off a remarkable feat. The arrow hit centers-eye. The champion pulled the arrow out and its eyeball came with it. It didn¡¯t scream. It just pulled the arrow from the eyeball using both hands and put the gelatinous orb right back in its socket. Axion sighed, beside himself. Cipher was back up again. They joined together for another charge, like back at the beaches. The champion met them with yet another swing.


    Mercinestor took one step back to gather his energy. This was a trick he learned long ago. Mercinestor closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his hand holding the krakenwreck glowed with the cerulean blue of the cor. He concentrated the energy in his hand, charging it up, and sent it back into the sword.


    Mercinestor opened his eyes and sprinted past the boys as they got knocked down again. He ran up on the abandoned scaffolding, leaping off and driving his glowing blue sword into the champion¡¯s chest. His jump was so high upon impact Mercinestor had no choice but to hang onto the hilt of the krakenwreck, dragging the sword down the middle of the monster¡¯s abdomen. Mercinestor landed softly on his feet followed by the splattering guts of the hollow champion. Axion and Cipher regrouped with Mercinestor. Axion had never seen anything like it. Finally, all the stories and tall tales his father used to tell him about his quests with Uncle Nestor seemed plausible.


    Spangalore pounded his fist against the stone balcony.


    ¡°This is simply unacceptable!¡±


    Below Mercinestor and the boys didn¡¯t waste any time. They searched for a way out. Archers protected all the visible exits, but this was not their land.


    ¡°Release one of the infected.¡±


    Mercinestor took a step back and performed the same move, this time, with his charged blade, he pointed the tip to the ground and spun around in one full cycle, the blast kicked up the dirt enough to disguise them momentarily.


    ¡°Stop them! They¡¯re getting away!¡±


    When the dust settled, they were gone, with a clear outline in the dirt from the door they used to escape. Mercinestor led them in the dark with the glowing blade. They were already back in the tunnel system and making their way through the harbor district.


    Axion examined his uncle closely. He had clearly mastered the ability given to him by the Ignaleos Cor. These higher applications of his power were starting to have counter-effects. He was losing energy at an accelerated rate. It was good they got out when they did. Anymore fighting that maniac¡¯s science experiments would¡¯ve exhausted Mercinestor¡¯s reserve. All they had to do now was regroup with Anilithy¨¬stad.

 Chapter 58: The Stables

    CHAPTER 58 ¨C THE STABLES


    After receiving his orders Mortikahn ran through the inner city alone. In all haste he made his way to the stables, but there was a lot that stood in his way, most of all the thick blanket of a black downpour. Without any foe in sight, Mortikahn took this opportunity to examine the black algae starting to collect between the building walls and the streets. He got close to it, sheathed his sword, and went to touch it with his finger.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you¡­¡±


    Mortikahn looked next to him; it was Galastad of house Borigini, counselor to Mitakahn at his trial. He looked different. ¡°Hello, Uncle¡± Mortikahn called him uncle even though they were cousins by Pride standards. The Borigini did things differently in the Shorelands. All cousins were considered brothers and sisters so their progeny addressed the older generation accordingly.


    ¡°I am relieved to see you,¡± he smiled. ¡°We were beginning to think you fell in battle.¡±


    Mortikahn always enjoyed joking with Galastad.


    ¡°This is no battle. It¡¯s a massacre.¡±


    Because he never could tell when he was joking.


    Galastad¡¯s eyes smoldered over the city skyline, drenched and burning to the ground all at the same time. Where was there room to smile?


    ¡°Prince Axion has returned, galvanizing the resistance, all is not lost.¡±


    ¡°No, it is not. I¡¯ve heard, lad. He is welcome news. I¡¯ve been seeing to the evacuation of the downtown area personally after rallying the militia and sending them to the beaches. I figured the rest of you would come along...eventually.¡±


    ¡°Father will be relieved to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Seriously don¡¯t touch that.¡±


    ¡°What is this muck?¡±


    ¡°Its old darkness, before the time of sword and shield. Just don¡¯t touch it¡­When it first began to show it wasn¡¯t everywhere like it is now. Which could only mean one thing¡­It¡¯s growing¡­¡±


    ¡°This stuff is alive? But where did it even come from?¡±


    ¡°Old horrors like this come from the darkest depths of MagnaThora.¡±


    ¡°The Southlands?¡±


    ¡°The ocean deep.¡±


    The beachfront broke one of its flanks and out poured darksiders into the city streets. Mortikahn looked back towards the stables when Galastad stepped between them and him.


    ¡°Go, Prince Mortikahn. If we make it through this, we will have to tell my boys of what a courageous stand we made today. Go now, I shall hold them off!¡±


    Mortikahn did not argue. He wiped his forehead with a moment¡¯s hesitation and followed orders, leaving Galastad to fend for himself. After a decent sprint down the boulevards, Mortikahn found Jericho and the rest of the royal guard escorting civilians out of the stables. Jericho along with a select few ran through the ranches and barns ushering the women and children to get a move on. Mortikahn and the bulk of their division presented a front on the southern border of the stables against looting sailors.


    These sailors of the amethyst ships snuck around the battle and into the town, killing and pillaging the townsfolk. Jericho ran through the tight clusters of fences and farmhouses, one hand wielding his short, sharp sword, the other hand shepherding the fleeing villagers. ¡°GET OUT!¡± he yelled, turning his voice to the soldiers accompanying him, ¡°GET THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN OUT!¡±


    Mortikahn stood shoulder to shoulder with his flank of royal guardsmen and militia. Together they charged the scrambled parties of intruding enemies. Mortikahn fought much like his father; dirty and efficiently. He would much rather jump on an amethyst soldier and snap its neck than keep his reserve and only use his sword. That didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t one of the most skilled with a blade. Around him, his soldiers were falling one by one.


    Directly to the right of Mortikahn, one of the citadel¡¯s Royal Guard was succumbing to a dark soldier¡¯s headlock. The dirty scales on the opponent¡¯s arms were cutting into the royal guard¡¯s face. He screamed in torment. Mortikahn threw his sword into the dark soldier¡¯s neck and rendered him defeated. Before Mortikahn could help his comrade up or retrieve his sword, two dark soldiers grabbed his arms. He struggled to break free.


    They turned him around to face an approaching behemoth. Mortikahn panicked. Never before had he seen a behemoth. Half beast half man, it was the size of a house, and deadlier than any battalion of darksiders. Before the behemoth could clobber Mortikahn, he flipped backwards, freeing himself of his guards. He kicked them in the back of the knees to easily bring them to the slippery ground and retrieved his sword.


    The two dark soldiers got back up and joined forces with the still approaching behemoth. The royal guard that Mortikahn had saved readied his stance beside Mortikahn. They charged at each other, two on three.


    Mortikahn ducked the behemoth¡¯s reach and cut one of the darksiders in half by the waist. The royal guard stabbed the other in the gut, but before he could finish him, the behemoth grabbed the royal guard, picked him up, and squeezed the life out of him. The royal guard dropped dead on the floor. Mortikahn could feel the hate coursing through him for these evil intruders.


    Mortikahn used the hate to fuel his fight. He sheathed his sword and took out two arrows. He big dumb oaf lunged for Mortikahn and missed by a mile. One arrow in each hand, he sprinted and got around the behemoth. He used the arrows to climb up its back. Once he got a firm grip around the back of its damp hairy neck, Mortikahn released the arrows and pulled out his sword, driving it into the back of the behemoth¡¯s skull.


    The horse knight¡¯s blade bounced right off the behemoth¡¯s skull, but it did not break. The beast began to back-pedal, raising its arms, trying to snatch Mortikahn. He jumped off its shoulder and turned around mid-fall. Mortikahn threw his sword into the behemoth¡¯s neck, right under the jaw. He poked clean through the monster¡¯s skin and drew an abundant amount of blood. The behemoth plummeted to the ground, squishing the bodies of the two dead soldiers. Mortikahn exhaled, walked over to the carnage, the stink of the remains smoking in the rain, and pulled his sword free. He looked around as he wiped the sword clean. It was easy with the rain. There was no one to witness his tremendous feat, single-handedly taking down a behemoth. Mortikahn shrugged it off and jumped back into the fight.


    Meanwhile, Jericho worked his way through the stable houses. It felt good to be dry for a second, even though his gear was soaked through and through. He came upon one of the remaining rooms in the stable where a mother was hiding with her children. They were quietly huddled in the corner.


    ¡°Why are you not fleeing?¡± but before the words escaped his lips, he knew why.


    Jericho jerked his head back as a dagger almost struck his forehead from a darksider behind him. Jericho backed up and caught a good look at this scum. His skin looked like it was rotting from the inside out. The few teeth that he had left were black and yellow. His tunic was torn and practically falling off. He was holding a bag in his other hand, filled with the spoils of war.


    Jericho attacked the sailor. He was a fair warrior, blocking each one of Jericho¡¯s strikes. Left, right, left, right, Jericho slowly backed him into a wall. The sailor threw his bag at Jericho. He parried the bag with his sword, but before he could counter, the sailor had leapt on top of Jericho, causing him to fall to the ground.


    Jericho¡¯s hands were tied up, one trying to pull the sailor¡¯s hand off of his throat, and the other holding the sailor¡¯s wrist, preventing him from thrusting the dagger into Jericho¡¯s eye. The sailor had all the leverage, and Jericho was losing the intimate battle.


    He begged for help, for Mortikahn, or any soldier of the Royal Guard to come in and save him. But Jericho knew he would have to get out of this mess himself or die trying.


    Suddenly, from behind the sailor, Jericho saw a pot get smashed over his head. The sailor stumbled back and dropped his dagger. Jericho picked his sword back up, snapped back to his feet, and rammed the point of his sword into the chest of the sailor, twisting it, and pulling it out of his body.


    Breathing heavily, Jericho looked around the dead body in the corner, the family huddled in fright behind it, and one brave boy stood beside the remnants of the broken pot that saved Jericho¡¯s life. Jericho walked over to the boy and kneeled before him.


    ¡°You are very brave, lad. Courage like that of a knight. I thank you for saving my life. What is your name?¡±


    ¡°¡­I¡­I am¡­Denison.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Denison. Now, you must help me one more time and guard your family while you all get to Zepathorum. Here¡­take this,¡± Jericho handed Denison the dead sailor¡¯s dagger. ¡°Get them out quickly, I must press on.¡± And with that Jericho left the house and continued on his path. He came upon three royal guards lost in confusion.


    ¡°You three¡­ come with me,¡± directed Jericho.


    The four of them ran down the street into an assembly hall at the end of the row of stables. Inside, as Jericho predicted, were more than twenty civilians hiding out. Children, women, old men, all clenched each other tightly, cowering in the shadows. Jericho heard screams coming from outside.


    ¡°GET THEM OUT!¡± He ordered as he ran over to the door where the screams were coming from. Two of his soldiers began getting them up and getting them out of the hall, while the other armed himself and stood by Jericho¡¯s side.


    In from the door came five amethyst-clothed soldiers, not sailors. The lines from the battle must be breaking. This battle was almost lost. Jericho took a deep breath and sprang into action.


    He jumped up, kicked one back into another one, spun around while switching his sword¡¯s position to backhand, and sliced the abdomens of two soldiers in one fell swoop. They hit the ground as the other two regained their stance and charged once again, while the last soldier battled with the guard that stood beside Jericho.


    Jericho alternated between opponents, parrying back and forth; up until he caught the handle of one sword, and swung the soldier around to get hit in the head by the other¡¯s sword. He released the dead one and kicked him into the other soldier, pinning him down on the floor. Jericho walked over to the trapped soldier, kicked the sword away from him, and drove his own sword into the soldier¡¯s head. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The last dark soldier was still battling with the royal guard. Jericho came up from behind them and cut the soldier¡¯s legs out from underneath him, as Jericho¡¯s companion came down upon the fallen foe with a killing stroke.


    ¡°Thank you, my lord.¡±


    ¡°You would have done the same for me. Now go, help the troops get them up the road,¡± said Jericho, as he left.


    He wanted to get a look at what was happening down in the city. Jericho peeked outside and saw a most disheartening sight. Not only was the rain pouring fiercer than ever and most of the towers and buildings of the city smoldered with black smoke, but dozens upon dozens of dark warriors were making their way across the roads and grassy knolls for the stables. There were too many of them.


    Jericho had to think and act quickly. If he ran, the stables would be sacked instantly. Surrendering any poor citizens that Jericho and his troops missed. If he stayed at the stable and formed a front there was a chance that they could get surrounded. If that happened, they would not be able to secure the gate for the retreat. Jericho was conflicted.


    After quickly reconsidering a solution outside of strictly two options, his mind was made up. He ran back into the hall, they were all gone, out the door, back towards the stables. Good. He caught up to them in no time. They had reached Mortikahn drawing in the southern line to meet them.


    ¡°Send a quarter of the troops with the retreat,¡± ordered Jericho, ¡°tell them to hold the gate as long as they can.¡±


    ¡°What about us?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going to rush the city and cover your father¡¯s right flank on the beach.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be walking into the most congested part of the battlefield, Jericho.¡±


    ¡°I know. That is why we are going together, cousin.¡± Jericho finished as he opened all the gates inside the stable. ¡°And we won¡¯t be walking.¡±


    The entire infantry that Jericho and Mortikahn had left were turned into cavalry, and the battalion made their way for the inner city. The rest of the horses were used to help with the evacuation across the boulevards to the city limits.


    ¡°BOWS AT THE READY!¡± screamed out Mortikahn.


    They all loaded their bows. The charging cavalry swiftly ran through the approaching enemy on the spanning hills and was now at the boundary road of the inner city. As they crossed the road Jericho screamed, ¡°FIRE AT WILL!¡±


    The arrows were shot straight up into the air and practically disappeared in the rain. Once everyone¡¯s quivers were empty, they switched to swords and entered the thick of the city.


    Between the fog and towering buildings, it was hard to see much of anything. The city was pure chaos. The docks were all but destroyed. When they hit the last line of buildings their arrows returned from the black sky and rained down on the crash-landing ships. They met their enemies with two fronts and blew by them with little resistance. The dark soldiers tried to capitalize on the cavalry passing by, but they were caught by the storm of arrows. Mortikahn galloped down the right side of the charge, parrying sword-strokes, and decapitating heads one after another.


    Jericho looked up at the corrupted city skyscrapers. They were in shambles, ready to crumble to the floor. Jericho remembered when he docked here and was first greeted by Axion and Mitakahn before the funeral. That seemed like such a long time ago. Now the city had completely flipped over. It was a shadow of what it used to be.


    Jericho worried about Mitakahn and Anilithion¡­ where they were if they were okay. He wondered what would have happened here today if Mitakahn was not banished. What he would give to have all of his cousins by his side right now.


    A loud crack interrupted Jericho¡¯s thought. A skyscraper above him had finally given into the torment of the day, between the rain, the battle, and black algae it was toppling over into another tower beside it. Jericho called for everyone to move out from under the plummeting debris when he was caught by a piece of glass in the arm. It cut right through his armor and broke his skin. Jericho quickly wrapped it up and led the cavalry under the wreckage. His hand was wet with what was most definitely blood, but there was no time.


    He mumbled under his breath. ¡°Please make it. Please make it.¡±


    The tower came down right over them, raining chunks of itself at them sporadically. Did Jericho just lead them right to their doom? He thought they were fast enough to make it. The truth was right in front of him now, not at this rate, no way. Then the edge of the falling building grinded up against the closest standing tower, slowing its fall. The stall gave them enough time to just skirt by before the remnants of the once Linchester Tower found its final resting place across Broad Street.


    Jericho checked his wound. It didn¡¯t look bad, but it was still bleeding. Another loud crack sounded off down the block, and then another and another, loud enough for every district to hear. Jericho led his battalion out of the inner city as the towers collapsed all around them. Mortikahn took the lead, for he was already familiar with this area, as they came upon the northern edge of the beaches. He looked back at the dying city. After this there might be nobody left to save¡­


    The dragon kingdom warships had covered the entire shoreline, to the point where Anilithy¨¬stad could no longer see where the reinforcement ships landed. It mattered not. Anilithy¨¬stad screamed out from his left ¡°HOLD THE LINE!¡± but it was pointless. The lines were failing. They were getting clobbered, attacked on all sides equally as hard on the beach. Anilithy¨¬stad was getting overwhelmed. He could only do so much. They were not worthy foe, but their sheer numbers were no match for Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s response team.


    He was cutting down enemies left and right, saving countless soldiers. But the enemy front just kept rolling in, without end. And even still, upon the horizon, more ships were entering the bay, just to crash against the beaches and docks.


    Now the inner city collapsed. The overflow would obliterate them. Not to mention, the left flank was about to break. Anilithy¨¬stad galloped towards the extreme left of the line. He got there just in time. He read the enemy force like a wild tide, and here came another wave. He got his men in ranks and braced them for the direct assault. They were the end of the line. They had to hold the line.


    Thankfully Anilithy¨¬stad had a brief moment where the center of the fight was in control, so he was able to respond to the left. Now the only question was, what of the right flank? He could tell, it was wavering. There was nothing he could do right now. In came a surge of enemy troops trying their best to get around them. Anilithy¨¬stad broke out from behind his soldiers so he could bring his horse to a gallop and outflanked the strike force, a diversion.


    Like water hitting rock, the Dragon Kingdom¡¯s army bounced off and collapsed in on itself in a failed attempt to flank the edges of the left line. Anilithy¨¬stad cut back in and right through them. He heard screams from the right flank and feared the worst.


    At that moment on the other side of the frontline, Jericho and Mortikahn had arrived with their cavalry.


    ¡°Gather the troops! Split them into two brigades. I shall lead one far right. You shall lead the other after my brigade along the edge of the line,¡± commanded Jericho.


    ¡°What of the left side?¡± asked Mortikahn.


    ¡°Look closely. Your father is holding it.¡±


    Hooves paved the dirt in dire haste. The horse princes were in their element. They once again divided their outfit of troops into two separate divisions. Jericho led his division to the extreme right of the beach first. They charged with their horses, screaming like wild animals to gain momentum. Mortikahn waited until Jericho¡¯s charge was halfway between them and the battle, and then called his division forward.


    Jericho¡¯s division came down hard upon the battlefront, sweeping back in all the scattered enemy troops attempting to break the line along the edge of the frontline. Mortikahn followed behind him, and together, the two divisions formed a hook maneuver, shoving the entire right flank of the battle back towards the middle and the water. What was left of the already small army of royal guard soldiers had won their part of the battlefield for the time being. They had collapsed both enemy flanks in on its center.


    Mortikahn held back with his division to make sure no reinforcements got around them after the hook. ¡°Regroup!¡± shouted Mortikahn, ¡°ARM SPEARS!¡± he continued as more dark troops ran up at them from the shores, ¡°FIRE!¡± Everyone, including Mortikahn, threw their spears far over the foot-printed and blood-spilt sand, into the chests of the approaching enemies.


    ¡°DRAW SWORDS!¡±


    Metal sliding out of sheaths sounded off as the soldiers braced for another bout. ¡°WE MUST HOLD THIS GROUND MEN! FOR THE PRIDE!¡± Mortikahn¡¯s steed kicked up onto its hind-legs as the horse whaled with prominence.


    ¡°FOR THE PRIDE!¡± screamed out every soldier wielding a sword for good. They kicked their horses into action.


    Another wave of Dragon Kingdom soldiers clashed against Mortikahn and his cavalry regiment. Mortikahn¡¯s shield stood out amongst the rest in his company; only alike with that of Jericho¡¯s and Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s shields. Instead of gold and crimson circular shields, theirs were black and brown ¡°U¡± shaped shields, with three points at the top and one point at the bottom, and the symbol of a mighty silver stallion on its hind legs, resembling very closely to the pose that Mortikahn¡¯s horse had just performed.


    Strike after strike seemed to enhance the outline of the horse on Mortikahn¡¯s shield as he continuously blocked one sword stroke and retaliated with one of his own. Foes were dropping all around him. Mortikahn followed the thought in his mind like instructions, block, stab, parry, block, stab, dodge, block, stab, finish, block, stab, kick. It was clockwork.


    Jericho was still pushing his small group of cavalry through the line, making his way from the far right to the center. Jericho ran both through and against the grains of the lines, his division gradually dispersing and reinforcing the entire right-half of the battlefront. He released the rest of his battalion into the left flank and reconvened with his uncle.


    The time for retreat was now. There was little more they could do. Anilithy¨¬stad was preparing to make the call. Three dispatchers were huddled behind him, protecting his blindside. He turned to give his orders, ¡°Call for the retreat. One of you go to Mortikahn and inform him, one of you inform the inner-city evacuation team¡­time is up, and you,¡± he pointed to the dispatcher in the middle of the three, ¡°make haste to the gates, tell them to begin the flight to Zepathorum if they haven¡¯t done so already. Go! Now!¡±


    The three messengers saluted and galloped off. Anilithy¨¬stad then turned to Jericho, ¡°You have to get to city hall.¡±


    ¡°What!?¡±


    ¡°The capital building. We must retrieve the city¡¯s records and family heirlooms,¡± explained Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Uncle, we don¡¯t have time!¡±


    ¡°We must do this, son. We must honor the ancestors, and all that they have done for this city before we give it up to the enemy, even if it is not our own kingdom.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Do it for your uncle.¡±


    ¡°For King Theomitus! So, what¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Leave now, you know where it is. The same hall where we held the wake for the king. You will be quicker alone. Take all that you can carry. If you have time¡­remember your history lessons and grab Arkenorth artifacts worthy of rescue.¡±


    ¡°Yes, uncle. Anything Castle Ark related. Right away.¡±


    ¡°Good lad, good luck.¡±


    They nodded at each other and headed off in separate directions. Jericho made his way back into the city and prayed it wasn¡¯t one of the towers destroyed. Anilithy¨¬stad kept fighting as he continued to keep an eye on Mortikahn¡¯s position. Their regiments slowly came back together in the middle and Anilithy¨¬stad signaled to Mortikahn that he was ready for retreat.


    Mortikahn returned. ¡°Father, I met Galastad in the city. He has been leading the evacuation downtown, he is their salvation.¡±


    ¡°He did his part just as you did yours. But we saw the fall of the city from here. It is time to go.¡±


    The retreat orders were put into full effect. The wounded and defeated soldiers were the first to retreat with Mortikahn leading the way. Anilithy¨¬stad stayed back and held what little land they could along the center of the beaches. The safety net that Jericho and Mortikahn had created when they rolled through the city center dwindled exponentially, and a frightening number of darksiders were bearing down on Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s right flank.


    Naturally, all of the hard work he put into the left flank was immediately undone. He slowly moved his battalions back to avoid getting surrounded. This army of darksider sailors were some of the worst he¡¯d ever seen. They were winning by sheer numbers and that just pissed Anilithy¨¬stad off. Soon enough the retreat was in full effect, and his battalion grew too small to stick around any further. So, he took the ones still not completely exhausted and made their way to the city limits.

 Chapter 59: Vestige Tower

    CHAPTER 59 - VESTIGE TOWER


    The rain blurred the smoke from the burning buildings together with the fog of the darkstorm. It was hard to see right in front of you clearly. When the fog noticeably parted, Axion grabbed Mercinestor and Cipher¡¯s attention. They gripped their swords and braced themselves for the next wave. The beast finally came into view and the blond hair gave away its innocence immediately. Huntross galloped up to Axion and nudged his nose into the prince¡¯s shoulder. Axion rubbed the horse¡¯s head. Not a scratch was on him. Axion offered the mount to his uncle, but Mercinestor declined, insisting he walk the rest of the way.


    ¡°I think we were just given a very rare opportunity,¡± Mercinestor explained, ¡°We can rally folks for the final retreat. You must press on to the Vestige Tower and reclaim our kingdom¡¯s most valuable possessions.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even know where to start, uncle. Should we not focus on the people?¡±


    ¡°You will know when you get there. The Pride flows through you. Our two families represent the pillars that Lorde Magnanimous founded to protect the Pride. We were chosen by the gods, son. Let that energy lead the way.¡±


    Axion nodded to Mercinestor with all the affection of a warm hug. For more reasons than one, he needed to hear that.


    ¡°The gods brought that fine horse back to you for a reason. Now use it, prince. I beg you!¡±


    Mercinestor and Cipher urged Axion to ride ahead. Time was of the essence.


    ¡°We will meet you at the edge of the city.¡±


    Axion mounted Huntross and turned him to ride back into the city. During this quick trip he had time to look at the devastation brought onto to his land. He wished he could look away. He reached the tower, which had to be one of five left standing, and decided to forego any formality on divine right. He ran inside the Vestige Tower remaining on Huntross as the horse charged up the stairs. Although it was basically against the law to have a horse inside the building, current times have called for martial law. He had almost forgotten what it sounded like without the rain. But if he listened carefully, he could still hear its outside echoes.


    Axion was shocked to meet Jericho in the top assembly room, and not just at that, but Jericho was not alone. Sword drawn and temper on high, the man Jericho had found was far more wicked in the royal family¡¯s eyes, than any dark soldier or sailor outside ransacking the city. The man Jericho had come across in rescuing Caliber¡¯s treasures and histories was the governor, Demeter. The man that was responsible for banishing Mitakahn from the Pride.


    ¡°I should kill you where you stand,¡± admitted Jericho unaware that Axion had arrived.


    ¡°Stay your sword, knight!¡± yelled Axion at Jericho.


    ¡°Prince Axion!?¡± Demeter cried out.


    Jericho looked up and immediately re-sheathed his sword.


    ¡°The dark army shall be upon us at any moment. Come! Grab what you can.¡±


    ¡°What of him, Axion? Surely, we cannot just let him go-¡±


    Axion gave him a stern look.


    ¡°You exiled my brother¡­for what?¡± demanded Axion.


    ¡°I did not know. He was acting crazy!¡±


    ¡°Do not lie to me!¡± Axion screamed out.


    ¡°We deemed it the right thing to do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m giving you one last chance, snake. Give me the whole truth or I will cut you down where you stand.¡±


    ¡°Fine! They wanted to destabilize your family, and after your father died and you left the kingdom-¡±


    Axion gulped.


    ¡°They knew the throne was fragile. They offered me¡­riches and rule over the nation after assimilation.¡±


    ¡°Who are they?¡±


    ¡°The senate.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Impossible.¡±


    ¡°That cannot be. That¡¯s true evil, pure wickedness.¡±


    ¡°He is a liar, Axion. Do not believe a word he is saying.¡±


    Jericho took his sword back out and put the pointy end under the coward Demeter¡¯s chin.


    Axion, still on horseback stood before him. The thunder collided outside, and its light shined through the high windows, down onto them.


    ¡°You have one last chance to tell me the truth.¡±


    ¡°His name is Warlord Cassius! He recruited me. I admit it¡­I¡¯m sorry¡­. I¡­. I was not thinking straight. Please¡­. have mercy. I¡­was wrong. I betrayed our nation. Please don¡¯t kill me.¡±


    ¡°You will never have a chance to turn this kingdom against itself again¡­¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Axion¡¯s rage took a hold of him, just like Jericho before. It must be genetic, or just the human condition.


    ¡°Wait!¡± a voice came from the front doors. It was Galastad clad in battle gear. ¡°Mortikahn told me of your return, my prince. You should know what I carry with me. What I have been carrying with me since the day of your brother¡¯s trial.¡±


    Galastad took out Mitakahn¡¯s exile scroll from his wet breast pocket. His armor vest, fashioned to resemble the Metuchen brown with outlines of gold and crimson around the shoulders running down, was actually made of the finest leather in Crucifire Plains. Axion could make this distinction by how dry the paper was after being out in that storm. He brought it over to Demeter and handed it to him. Jericho put his sword away and folded his arms. Prince Axion watched Governor Demeter rip Mitakahn¡¯s exile papers to shreds. He walked over to an unharmed hearth bearing a dying fire. ¡°There.¡± He tossed the shreds into the fire, and they all watched the garbage burn to ash. ¡°It¡¯s over now.¡±


    ¡°This is far from over, Prince Axion¡± Demeter admitted, ¡°Cassius told me of what plagues this kingdom, and it is beyond our worst nightmares. They aim to attack you on every level.¡±


    ¡°You are going to tell me everything you know.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your highness.¡± Demeter knelt down before him.


    Jericho looked at them¡­ ¡°You can¡¯t be buying this?¡±


    The sounds from outside seemed to get louder, the rain, the screams, the destruction. The high windows broke in and shattered. They were large enough for Demeter to get a good look outside and see the utter mayhem. The rubble and the panic covered by the dark clouds and black rain. The red, and the black, and the amethyst all bleeding together.


    ¡°Look at what your greed and conspiring has brought upon our country. You will pay for what you have wrought. For now, you get to keep your life, but don¡¯t even think about trying to run or escape.¡±


    ¡°I will be a good prisoner.¡± He kept his head down.


    Jericho looked at Axion twice.


    ¡°We should kill him where he stands.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s shorelander justice. He has information.¡±


    ¡°Shrouded in lies.¡±


    ¡°I will show him mercy, just as my father would have if he were here.¡±


    Demeter looked up at Axion. It wasn¡¯t enough for Jericho. This seemed like a huge mistake and breach in security. Jericho glanced at Galastad who was already nodding his head in earnest. Jericho rolled his eyes and followed Galastad out of the hall.


    Axion was left with Demeter, who abruptly turned around and walked away. He reached into a bookshelf and triggered a hidden lever. The bookshelf swung open to reveal a secret room. Axion was intrigued. Demeter disappeared into the room. Axion approached the wide doorway, but could not fit inside, for he was still on Huntross. Demeter returned shortly with a golden scepter in his hand.


    ¡°In my vast knowledge of this kingdom¡¯s history I can assure you that this is the only thing in the tower worth salvaging, almost everything else is a replica. Trust me I know the people that ran this place and if they survive the sacking of the city they will be able to tell you where they stashed away the original artifacts. There are rooms like these all over the Serengeti. Behold, the Scepter of Zenothorus!¡±


    The scepter shined with magnificence. For a moment, it took Axion away from the battle, he was losing. The scepter was stainless gold with an emerald gem at the top of it, and a lion engraved on its center.


    He handed it to Axion, knelt down before him, and said, ¡°This was your twelfth great grandfather¡¯s. Don¡¯t quote me on that. What¡¯s important is that he¡¯s the creator of this city. He had a vision of living outside of his father¡¯s shadow and that¡¯s exactly what he did.¡±


    Axion held the glimmering scepter in his hand, and with his other hand he offered Demeter a seat on his steed. Together the governor and the prince, in a shaky alliance, gathered everything they could to preserve the government and state of the Lion Kingdom, and along with Jericho and Galastad, they evacuated the hall. When they got outside of the Vestige Tower, before going down the outside set of stairs that surrounded the entire building, they could not help but feel the impact of seeing the city in such a state.


    Demeter kept his head down. Axion felt completely overwhelmed by the sight of it all: the downtown district in ruin, the break of the front along the coast, darksiders making their way into the city, fleeing women and children in the rolling fields, and the rest of their army helping as many as they could. Galastad gave Axion a severe look. Jericho focused on catching his breath. Galastad walked by Jericho, now standing in between them. Galastad advised Axion, ¡°As ruler apparent you are the one who has to make the call.¡±


    ¡°What call?¡±


    ¡°Axion whether we like it or not this city is lost. We cannot save it. We cannot save everyone.¡±


    Axion looked down. He knew exactly what Galastad was talking about, what he was implying. A perfect example of one of the many reasons he did not want to be king.


    ¡°I will not condemn this city and the people in it to death and destruction.¡±


    ¡°There is no other choice. We are at the point of no return. Look at it out there.¡±


    Galastad gestured out to the downtown area, the graveyard of buildings, beyond it the sea with the dark ships still sailing in. He pointed at the horrors with his sword.


    ¡°No, help is coming. If we do not leave now, we will surely die.¡±


    Axion struggled to find the words. He looked to Jericho, who seemed to be in the midst of the same realization. People were still trying to get out of the rubble. There were simply not enough soldiers left to help everyone. Jericho all of a sudden took a soldier¡¯s stance and gave Axion a firm look. Axion¡¯s younger cousin found his resolve, it was time he did the same.


    Galastad felt the same burden but held it with grace. Axion might think it was because this was not Galastad¡¯s true home if he did not know the man well. Axion spent a lot of time serving the country with Galastad and Theomitus over the years. One thing that always made him hold Galastad dear as a true ally, was the fact that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, not just his family¡¯s kingdom, or even both kingdoms between them, but all of greater MagnaThora. Maybe he was right¡­


    ¡°Sometimes ruling means having the strength to make the hard choices. No one wants to be the one to weigh lives, son. Your father told me once that a good ruler carries his burdens as though they were invisible, but never weightless.¡±


    ¡°My dad said that?¡±


    ¡°One of his many gems of wisdom. He knew the duties of being a king, specifically how they weren¡¯t all inspiring.¡±


    ¡°We have to do something, Axion, the darksiders will overtake the rest of the city soon.¡±


    ¡°It is mercy, your highness. Same as what you showed me,¡± said Demeter.


    Axion had to make a decision now. This was indeed the point of no return, but not in the sense that the others were thinking. For Axion, after he does this¡­his hands will never be clean again. In a way, it would be as though he was killing the innocent people left behind. Unfortunately for him, he could not look away, as much as he wanted to, it was his duty, his burden. Axion cleared his throat to speak clearly and determined.


    ¡°It is decided then. Surrender the city. Jericho take custody of Demeter, do whatever you need to if he becomes a hindrance. Give word to soldiers still tasked to the rescue orders, full retreat. We make for Zepathorum City! Go! I will rally those still fighting in the streets. No soldier is left behind. Save as many as you can.¡±


    Galastad and Jericho both nodded and saluted Axion. Demeter slid off Huntross and the horse bucked causing him to slip and fall into a face full of mud. They parted ways and went to pass the message along. The battle was over. The city of Port Caliber would fall to the enemy.

 Chapter 60: Twin Cities

    CHAPTER 60 - TWIN CITIES


    There was no avoiding it. The time had arrived. In one last draw of spirited breath, Axion charged back into the fray. He forced himself to confront the downtown area after all this time neglecting it. He never expected to take this long. Luckily, the consequences were not severe, thanks to Galastad¡¯s quick thinking. Now most of the city folk were saved, the remaining few making their way to the eastern city limits. What was left were the brave souls still fighting the good fight. At this point they must have assumed they would be left for dead; but no, not while Axion still drew breath, not under the banners of the Arkenoir house, here in the North. It was not the way of the Pride.


    The remaining force were a mere handful of soldiers, royal guard, Metuchen cavalry, and pride militia all mixed together. They used what was left of the big buildings to funnel the enemy pushing them in from the coast, their backs to the retreat; bless each of their souls. At this point the dark force was overflowing into the city. Just like on the coast, it was impossible to keep them together behind the retreat. The hunter nipped at the heel of its prey. From the side streets and alleyways rogue pirates and darksiders picked away at the retreating soldiers. Their numbers would soon dwindle past the point where it made a difference anymore. After that they would be snuffed out. Axion had to do something big.


    It was as though Huntross could feel the pull in Axion¡¯s heart. The horse broke out into an all-out sprint. Axion instinctively reached for his spear, but there was nothing clipped to the saddle. He quickly looked around at the carnage, pinpointed a replacement spear, and steered Huntross into a path where he could pick it up with ease. Axion examined it briefly, but he could tell by the weight that this was a spear from the Zepathorum royal guard. He swung it around and remembered his mounted training drills. Then an idea popped into his mind.


    Axion lifted himself up slightly from the saddle. Huntross wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it, so he galloped even harder. A slight pinch of worry crawled up the back of his neck as Axion wondered if he could successfully perform this type of maneuver at such a velocity. This horse really was something else. Axion took a deep breath and found his nerve. He jumped up, releasing his feet from the stirrups and landing them on the saddle, all the while holding the reins in his left hand and the spear in his right. Axion had a good balance on it. Huntross was an unstoppable force, unflinching, unwavering. Axion slid himself slightly down the left side of Huntross. He was practically laying out now, holding the reins tightly, as the street rushed by underneath him.


    Right before the darksiders collided with the retreating soldiers in yet another wave, Axion yanked the reins on Huntross causing him to jerk left and come to a sudden halt. The momentum carried Axion into the air towards the enemy. He spun the spear around over his head as he flew overhead, catching the darksiders off guard, felling each and every enemy to come in contact with his spearhead as he flipped. The launch found its natural crest and Axion came crashing down. He got his feet back under his body to brace for a landing. Axion brought the spear down onto another foe, softening his fall. He swiftly took the spear out of the corpse and threw it through the air, nailing two darksider by the heads to a stone wall.


    Axion drew his sword and took a step forward. The darksiders that were left flinched at the prince¡¯s brutality. These beasts feared him? Or was that not fear in their eyes. They regarded Prince Axion¡¯s brutality. In that time, it allowed him to rejoin his ranks.


    The remaining militiamen, so battle-fatigued and devoid of hope, reignited at the sight of their prince coming to the rescue. Prince Axion rubbed shoulders with the surviving protectors of Port Caliber and their hearts swelled with pride. Everything they fought for led them to this moment. They made their final stand with the would-be king. Huntross came trotting up behind him. Axion helped one of his soldiers carry another with an amputated leg. It must¡¯ve been done on the field. Axion gave them his mount and smacked Huntross on the hindside, sending him galloping away towards the rest of the retreat convoy. Axion stood with the last of the men who fought for Port Caliber.


    Another bout with the enemy was upon them. Axion put both hands on his sword and called out to his men to charge. They met the dark troopers blow for blow, Axion did his best to keep his men alive. Killing the enemy met little to nothing here. All they had to do was get out of the city alive. Only a couple more blocks and the district would give way to the fields between here and the stables. Part of Axion wished he told Galastad and Jericho to come back to secure his return. Hopefully the exodus will be so massive they will have no choice but to get caught in its wake. Though the sweat on his brow, the wetness under his hair that could not be mistaken for rain, pointed to panic¡­panic and fatigue. At every glance back he could steal from the dire situation at hand there were no signs of relief.


    Axion put down a devilish pirate trying to take advantage of his blind spot, with a rusty dagger no less. As the wounded pirate fell he tossed the ruddy dagger up. Axion caught it and threw it into the head of another pirate clawing on a soldier¡¯s back. These dragon kingdom natives really were wretched scum. Axion kicked another in the chest and rammed his sword through a shield, throwing both away and jumping onto the darksider. His own troops stopped retreating and surrounded Axion as he pummeled the darksider. Axion punched his head in with his fists. He let his rage take over. His sight turned red, but not from the blood splattering everywhere. A deep pull took hold of Prince Axion, he didn¡¯t feel regal at all, in this moment. He felt like the bringer of death. He was a machine of murder, bringing devastation to his enemy. They got the prince back up and continued their retreat, someone even got his sword. Axion began to lose his commander¡¯s resolve. This day was getting the best of him. He wiped his brow with his cloak. It was more for the gesture of shaking it off since the rain had drenched the cloak through and through.


    He helped his men defend another wave. Two militia men fell at the hands of archers in the alleyways, or wait no. Axion tracked them farther up. The enemy had found their way into a building.


    ¡°Spears!¡±


    A few sailed into the air and only one hit his target. Axion sighed and held out his hand.


    ¡°SPEAR!¡±


    Someone put a Metuchen spear in his hand. He smiled and sent it sailing into the air. A few seconds later and a body fell from the building. He called a couple more spears to be thrown and did his best. Some of his men fired their own arrows. In all his efforts he could not keep his men from continuing to fall. They were running out of time, and they were moving too slow. Axion was running out of moves. Why did he send Galastad and Jericho off so quickly? He needed to always be prepared with a contingency plan.


    Thankfully for him, he was surrounded by people who thought just like him at times. For Jericho, it would just be a continuation of the same strategy he deployed at the stables. He returned with Demeter, each on their own mounts and accompanied by riderless horses, having known exactly where to find them. At this point the numbers had dwindled enough to accommodate them comfortably.


    Only a couple men had to ride together, but they were mostly wounded and needed help to stay upright. Jericho led them out of the downtown area and into the fields of the eastern city limits, where they ran right into the fleeing masses. The evacuation was slow but working gradually. Very soon they would be overrun. At the rate they were going in contrast to how long it took to get a safe distance on horseback¡­Axion did the math in his head. There was a solid chance they could get away.


    As refugees entered the gates of Zepathorum for some time now, the lines to get in were starting to form and back up all the way to the road between cities. It was not yet significant enough to stop the pace of the retreat, but if left unresolved it could prove to be an issue.


    The road home was not as short as it could be in times like these. After maneuvering all the way up the line, he circled back and found the soldiers atop his new blond companion. They quickly traded places. Axion patted the horse¡¯s fur next to his mane.


    ¡°Did you miss me?¡±


    Huntross gave a soft nay.


    Axion traveled back to the end of the line, he now had a good sense of what was left. The words were on the tip of his lips, but he could not call attention to it just yet, anything could happen still. Axion looked around and found himself once again amongst his compatriots. He met up with Anilithy¨¬stad, Galastad, Mercinestor, Cipher, and Mortikahn, with the rest of the surviving soldiers, and despicable Demeter, all on horses. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Where is Jericho!?¡± Anilithy¨¬stad pointed out.


    A good question: Jericho was off his horse out on the western fields, defending a fleeing family from some renegade sailors. One stray pack of survivors who had fallen behind. How did Jericho spot them? He was getting flanked when Anilithy¨¬stad and Mortikahn dropped formation to help him. Mortikahn jumped off his horse and tackled two of the sailors. Once his son was safely on the floor, Anilithy¨¬stad shot two arrows in the back of their heads.


    Jericho had found Denison and his mother, he battled back and forth to save them. Mortikahn got up and helped his cousin brace for another wave of darksiders. They fought together bravely, but they were both exhausted. Before Anilithy¨¬stad could help them, Mortikahn was tripped, and the dark soldiers piled on top of him. Jericho managed to get Denison¡¯s mother on his horse, but when he went to lift the boy up, his wounded arm gave out.


    Anilithy¨¬stad moved in and finished quickly. No time to waste, he dropped his enemies. Anilithy¨¬stad reached through the wretched pile of death and pulled his arm back, with it came his son. He lifted Mortikahn out of the carnage. His forehead split open, gushing with blood.


    ¡°Gods, boy. Your mother is going to kill me.¡±


    Jericho had to parry suddenly and barely pulled it off, only he lost his sword in the process. Denison looked at his mother and the brave knight who was giving every bit of himself to defend her. Denison picked up Jericho¡¯s sword, barely able to lift it upright, and charged at the remaining darksider. Patronalus¡¯ sake¡­He was just a kid.


    ¡°NO!¡± screamed Jericho, with the last of his might as the black rains along with the darksiders consumed Denison in attack position and continued after his mother on the horse. Anilithy¨¬stad and Mortikahn wrangled the reins of Jericho¡¯s horse just in time. Altogether in one fluid motion, Mortikahn cradled the reins of his cousin¡¯s horse and Anilithy¨¬stad got both horses into a gallop. They fled with the rest of the exodus, leaving poor Denison behind. His mother couldn¡¯t bear to look, having lost her entire family today. Jericho¡¯s wet face scoured over the rolling hills, looking for the poor kid. He was lost.


    Axion rode ahead of the retreating army. He took a hard right turn and came around towards the port city to survey the damage. It was burning, and the smoke emitting off of the broken city skyline was mixing with the rising black cloud in the sky. The rain was letting up. The storm was over, for now¡­


    Axion reached the gates of Zepathorum. He galloped through the Gatehouse where Commander Cel¡¯a was talking to Mercinestor and Cipher.


    ¡°My wife!¡± Mercinestor insisted, ¡°Has she made it to the capital?¡±


    ¡°Lady Casterosi is safe, my lord. You can be at ease. My troops told me of the state of Castel Rosi Island when they secured her. They said it was in shambles, upended. What happened to you?¡±


    Mercinestor took a deep breath. He looked away from Cel¡¯a and put his hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°After the trial we discovered a spy within our estate keepers. Cipher confronted her as she attempted to sabotage the cor. In the scramble the entire island was transported to the Corscape¡­wh¡­erm¡­where he was waiting for us!¡±


    As soon as Cel¡¯a noticed Axion listening in, she turned to him and bowed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve ordered the guards inside to cover the last leg of the retreat, your highness.¡±


    Axion heard Cipher screaming above him. ¡°Archers! Ready! ¡­Fire!¡±


    ¡°I lost my spear, commander,¡± said Axion. He tried to make her at ease with a common barracks saying.


    She returned the gesture. ¡°I trust you lost it in a worthy place?¡±


    ¡°The worthiest of places, my enemy¡¯s face.¡±


    ¡°Then your spear is not lost. It merely met its noble end.¡±


    Just like Axion, to be a soldier first. Maybe that¡¯s what Cel¡¯a admired most about the prince, a trait they both shared.


    ¡°We will have to talk, Cel¡¯a, but for now, I trust you have taken the proper precautions for the coming siege.¡±


    Cel¡¯a thought it might be a question. To her surprise, it appeared to be a statement of fact as Prince Axion rushed upstairs to the observation deck of the Gatehouse, where Cipher was commanding the archers and trebuchets. The last of the army made it back to the city safely as the artillery rained down a barrier of death behind them. The city remained clear of the darksiders, for now.


    Axion patted Cipher on the back. They didn¡¯t look at each other. But there was a mutual feeling of success¡­no that wasn¡¯t it, relief? Maybe it was safety. The bottom line was, they again had control over the situation, for the time being. Axion went with Anilithy¨¬stad who brought Mortikahn into the Citadel to be looked after. Jericho escorted Denison¡¯s mother to safety.


    Galastad took a break from helping the wounded troops and sat down on the corner of a Zepathorum city block, alone. He was soaking wet from the storm. Galastad took refuge in the calm after the storm. For a passing moment he could feel good, refreshed in the winds. The heat would soon come back, followed closely by the shadowed storm. He sat, alone, with the townsfolk of the Pride, his brown war-stained leather tunic sticking out along the busy city streets.


    Axion felt comfortable enough leaving his people in command to head up the Citadel. He ran, still coursing with adrenaline from the battle, up the spiraling staircase back to his chambers where his mother was waiting.


    ¡°Oh, Axion! It¡¯s you! I knew it! I was so worried,¡± Queen Ady¨¢na confessed as she embraced her eldest son.


    Axion quickly told her of how the city fell and how they will soon be surrounded. He began to hyperventilate.


    ¡°We have to get Mitakahn. Mitakahn needs to get back. His exile has been overturned. He must know what¡¯s happened, Mother!¡±


    The prince went on and on, trying to look out the window to spot the massing dark army at Caliber.


    ¡°Axion, please relax, look at me. Your brother will find his own way back. No piece of paper will keep him from doing what¡¯s right. We can only focus on what lies ahead of us.¡±


    A nefarious ship docked on the shores of the fallen port city, one different from all the others, grander. Its sails dropped as they prepared to make camp. Out of the ship, aside from all the servants and warriors walked another commander of the fleet, a resentful comrade of the darkness known as the Emissary crawled out onto the dock.


    He was cloaked in slick shadow, his face covered. A harness on his chest, strapped on with diagonal leather strips going over his shoulders and around his sides, came together right at the center holding a sparkling gem, like an inverted diamond, reminiscent of the Carbon Terra. The smoldering gem vibrated and emitted a low hum. His servants brought out giant throbbing eggs with dark veins, surging, ready to hatch. The Dragon Kingdom acolytes sunk their rotten teeth into Caliber, collaborating their efforts to take over the rest of the Pride. The final judgment of the Lion Kingdom was at hand.


    Admiral Zorrowfold walked out of their stronghold at sea port village. The sand surrounding the pier whooshed and swirled around the admiral in his once-clean black officer¡¯s jacket with amethyst embroidery and buttons going down the middle in a uniform pattern. He stood there unflinching, hands firmly grasping each other behind his back. The sand stopped when the wind from the dragon¡¯s wings stopped.


    Fathom landed and flopped over, absolutely exhausted. Zora dismounted to check on her dragon. The poor thing had been flying non-stop for days. Odds were he would now sleep for days. The Dark Lord Malinor returned to Port Caliber, the day already won. He was not impressed. Malinor had no doubt his invasion force was unstoppable. Aside from the enormous setback Casterosi caused, Malinor still had all of the momentum. Thousands of his darksiders fell and it didn¡¯t even matter. He had an entire army waiting to deploy.


    Port Caliber was easy to take. Zepathorum City will pose the biggest threat possibly in all of MagnaThora. The capital city had legendary fortifications. The Dark Lord Malinor had his own grand designs for his siege that some might consider unorthodox, techniques he developed with the help of the mad genius Spangalore and the Emissary. Like the coward Demeter said¡­they were attacking on every level. Some levels would unapologetically violate the limits of conventional warfare.


    Queen Ady¨¢na finished bandaging her nephew¡¯s head. She walked away from Mortikahn on the bed and Jericho brooding in the corner. She walked by the Casterosi family hugging, Lord Mercinestor, Cipher, and his mother Lady Azuza. Commander Cel¡¯a accompanied Queen Ady¨¢na outside on the balcony as she joined Anilithy¨¬stad and Axion. She shivered, scared of the days to come. Axion excused himself and immediately returned with her crimson cloak. It was good to have him back. He did the best anyone could ask of a prince or a king today, given the circumstances. Anilithy¨¬stad put his hand on Axion¡¯s shoulder. He couldn¡¯t be any prouder of his oldest nephew.


    ¡°All we can do now,¡± Ady¨¢na told her family, ¡°is keep our eye on the light¡­¡±


    ¡°No matter how dark the days to come get.¡±


    ¡°Help is on the way, sister.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be enough.¡±


    ¡°We need Mitakahn.¡±


    End of Part Four

 Seventh Interlude: Irredeemable

    SEVENTH INTERLUDE ¨C IRREDEEMABLE


    Malinor had spent enough time getting tortured by the mad scientist Spangalore to come to a mutual understanding in all of that suffering. If Malinor could prove he was Dracobra¡¯s exalted Spangalore would take him to the East. It took exile, imprisonment, and torture for Malinor to finally find his meaning, his place in this world. It all became so clear once his life was boiled down to basic needs like survival. He saw MagnaThora so vividly now, as a whole. The continent was its own animal, its own god.


    A great deal of MagnaThora was the Burning Mountain Range. The mountains have two massive sets of slopes running separately from west to east and then connecting in the east, making up the MassifLands. The mountains are the northern and eastern barriers of greater MagnaThora. The Barren Sea is the western and southern barrier. But if you brave the passage south, which Malinor already accomplished with ease, beyond the WasteLands, and the SwampLands, there is something else. Malinor had seen it briefly on his way to Morticomb. Now he was obsessed over it. What if there was a way off MagnaThora? Malinor could become a famous explorer, a conqueror of the rest of the world. This would be his chance to start over. He brokered a deal with his captor, Spangalore, and gained passage to the far eastern reaches of the SouthLands. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Still battered and bruised he was transported to another prison wagon and carted out of the Morticomb Caverns. Malinor¡¯s eyes burned at first. He realized it had been some time since he saw daylight. The darkness became normal. It would take time to acclimate to the daylight. When he did, he took in the sights and couldn¡¯t help but smile. Everything looked so vibrant and alive even though it was the dingy SouthLands. He didn¡¯t mind the overcast day. He could appreciate a lot after what he had just been through. Who knows how long he was kept in the Morticomb dungeons. He¡¯d rather not think about it. Instead, he dwelled on the landscape around him. Most of the light was not coming from the sun kept behind the clouds. The light was coming from the east, where they were headed.


    The closer they got the better he could see the raging arms of mist. They danced together in unexpected colors. The dormant volcanoes emptied into the delta, the molten plasma, met land, met water, fusing together into something else. Malinor wanted to get a closer look, but the road became increasingly more bumpy as they made their final approach. The outlying storm of the divide made it almost impossible to reach the fortress.


    Finally, they reached their destination and Malinor was taken back inside, into another dungeon. This one had far fewer torture racks. Instead of pure darkness these cells had massive windows hanging off the edge of the fortress into the storm. Malinor quickly realized the imposing windows were the torture devices. He closed his eyes and, after spending an entire night listening to the volatile sounds of the reach, finally regretted his decision to journey to the edge, or to the south for that matter.

 Eighth Interlude: Shape & Shine

    EIGHTH INTERLUDE ¨C SHAPE & SHINE


    The next stop in Patronalus¡¯ campaign to rebuild MagnaThora was the Great Gate. The old landmark that divided the Southlands from the rest of MagnaThora. Even though Patronalus knew that the dragon god was really imprisoned in the north, he kept the gate in its original form as a beacon of safety and security, a sign for all that would see it and hear about it that the ways of old were restored.


    The Great Gate was made to finish was nature started, sealing off the only break in the mountain range dividing the North from the South. It started a wicked rumor and superstition in MagnaThora. Anything originating from the south was thought to be of pure evil. This negative association would be the cause of age old division and opposition between people from both regions.


    This conflict would be the base cause of most war and strife in the history of MagnaThora. And it all dates back to the first event between good and evil. The first stand off between the champion and the villain. The first time the light clashed with the darkness. The Southlands were blamed and shamed for being tainted grounds. They were tainted by the gods, but they did not share the blame for they were long gone. Humans inherited the sins of the gods, and it tore them apart. It was up to Patronalus to heal the wound of their predecessors. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The more Patronalus thought about it. Deep in his own head while he restored the giant gate piece by piece. Any passerby would see a man floating out in the reach, seemingly covered in fire, pulling plates from the earth to refine into the metal that would reforge the impenetrable wall. Calling it a gate is one of the grandest lies in all of MagnaThora because there is no gate to the other side. Not one that could be seen by the mortal eye anyway.


    That got Patronalus thinking about all he did not know as a god. This transgression must be rectified. The clearest path in doing so would be to track the remaining gods down and learning from them. Before he left the valley the humble god had a thought.


    He went to the mountains overlooking the Ivory Tower and the Great Gate, the tower located almost perfectly in between them. He chose this location to erect a temple that would house his own origins, careful not to make the same mistakes as his ancestors. Patronalus made the temple of virtue as a beacon of hope, filled with legends of the past for anyone who needed it. His story was one of truth and justice and exactly what the human race was due and what they were meant for¨C greatness.

 Chapter 61: Scent of the Cub

    Part Five: Northern Fires


    CHAPTER 61 ¨C SCENT OF THE CUB


    ¡°He¡¯s still breathing, listen! It¡¯s faint, but still there.¡±


    ¡°We need to do something¡­¡±


    ¡°Take him¡± Excelsior motioned Orion over to Bridger.


    ¡°What?¡± he said, his eye swollen after Excelsior¡¯s punch.


    ¡°You know the way better. Take Mitakahn with Orion to Compis Falls. This old hound can make it. He knows Mitakahn needs him.¡±


    Orion barely flinched when Bridger hopped on, but as they slid Mitakahn over his back the poor dog¡¯s knees began to buckle. If it hadn¡¯t been proven already, Orion was just another one of them, part of the company, and willing to do whatever it took to save one of their own.


    The supposed Lion Kingdom border troops glided down from the trees with the wind.


    ¡°We¡¯re too big, Excelsior¡± Bridger pushed off, ¡°It won¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°Have faith prince, now go¡± Excelsior slapped Orion on the hind parts before drawing his swords.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Kunezar struggled to get his sword out.


    The assassins surrounded the party.


    ¡°We have to do something!¡± said Tron.


    Orion stumbled to get free of the encircling mercenaries. The dog¡¯s legs gave out for a brief moment before he recovered. At that same moment Bridger had to deflect an arrow with his sword and lost grip of Mitakahn. The dying prince began to slide off Orion¡¯s hide. A clever assassin found himself close enough to capitalize on the situation. He lunged for Mitakahn¡¯s neck with his sword. He pulled his sword over his head and brought it down as hard as he could.


    Before the assassin¡¯s sword could connect a beige blur crossed his line of sight. It would be the last thing that the assassin would ever see. The other assassins crashed in on the remaining group. Bridger put away his sword, drew his bow, and shot down two assassins in one fluid motion, snatching Mitakahn before he fully fell off Orion.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, Excelsior, we¡¯re too heavy. We won¡¯t make it.¡±


    Another growl from the trees made the hair on the back of everyone¡¯s necks stand up.


    The beige blur knocked two more assassins off their feet and dragged them into the brush. Tron used this time to capitalize on the distraction. He and Kunezar cut down assassins too busy trying to locate the jungle threat.


    The predator reappeared in an instant and attacked another enemy. Its pounce crushed the assassin¡¯s neck. Its claws carved into his flesh quickly and smoothly. The assassin helplessly crumbled to his knees before getting his head snapped off his spine. The animal was now fully revealed. I was a lion from the north, after all this was still considered Serengeti territory. The lioness melted the assassin within moments. It was a wretched sight. Never before had men looked so¡­ worthless. Just slabs of meat held together by skin and bones.


    He never stood a chance against her ferocious and fatal design. The lioness brandished the dead assassin¡¯s head as it rolled around in her mouth and then drooled out the side, bouncing on the floor, as she walked up to Mitakahn. She nudged Mitakahn off Orion¡¯s hide with her head and got around to the other side to catch him, sliding the unconscious prince face-first onto her own back. Bridger watched Mitakahn¡¯s fingers graze upon the lioness¡¯ fur and take hold.


    ¡°That¡¯s Mitakahn¡¯s lion!¡±


    ¡°How did it find us?¡±


    For most of them this looked like something straight out of a northern legend. The spirit of the Pride knew no bounds. Mitakahn was not only prince of the Lion Kingdom, but he was also the prince of the Lion Lorde Magnanimous, and with that came certain apparent graces. Of course, Anilithion knew exactly who the fortuitous feline was. There were only three lions he had the privilege of meeting up close in his life, all of which were pets of the royal gardens of Zepathorum. Being of the same kin with Mitakahn, he was very well acquainted with them. Not so much Raja during his time, and Maximus was friendly to all, but Anilithion spent enough time with the lady of the pride to recognize Gabriella in the wild. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    She handled Mitakahn carefully but intently, like one of her own cubs. They all watched the royal lioness cradle Mitakahn with such tender control and then kick away from the skirmish in a flash, getting Mitakahn to safety. Bridger, who was still on Orion, took off after her. Bridger could tell after he caught up that the big cat was pacing him. Without skipping a beat, he pulled ahead and led the lioness to his people.


    He knew¡­ This was how they saved Mitakahn.


    Bridger led the lioness to Compis Falls. It was by no means a short journey, but if they rode fast and hard enough they could make it in time¡­hopefully.


    Excelsior watched them make a clean getaway before turning his full attention on the remaining assassins. He threw one sword into the head of a guard attacking Kunezar¡¯s blind spot. And cut the knees out from another battling Tron. He was not wasting time, no games. No prisoners, Excelsior¡¯s every swing was a kill-stroke.


    Tron regrouped with Humbler, still sword-less, taking on his foe by catching blade with blade. Humbler then kicked the foe¡¯s knee out from under him, using the fall as momentum to bury the assassins¡¯ sword back into his own head. Humbler pulled the sword out of the corpse and sliced the head off the last surviving ¡°guard¡± squirming on the floor. He looked at the rest of his friends.


    ¡°Shall we get going then?¡±


    The morning infiltrated his dreams and just like that they were pulled away from him. All Mitakahn could remember were a bunch of mossquirrels huddling in the sunlight. He couldn¡¯t open his eyes right away. Suddenly awake and still so tired, so exhausted, completely wiped of energy, Mitakahn tried to open his eyelids, the struggle almost hurt.


    He thought it best to rest for now. Why was he awake? He could barely move, but he could feel. His arms were resting gently on either side of him. At the end of his left hand, his fingers grazed the luscious fur of a lion¡¯s head. A soft purr gave it away, it was Gabriella.


    Mitakahn wanted to cry if he had the energy. Enough of what he couldn¡¯t do, what could he do? Mitakahn tried everything. He sniffed the air around him. He could smell. He smelled the scent of his lioness. It was immediately comforting to him. Mitakahn concentrated on the golden hair in her fur. He wanted to thank Gabriella for saving his life. He stroked the fur on her head. He was moving his left hand! The big blond cat purred even louder. Mitakahn loved that noise. Gabriella nestled her large nose into his side and Mitakahn¡¯s eyes shot open. He was getting his wits back. He turned himself over, still laying down, and immediately felt the wound going through his torso, but he wanted to pet Gabriella on the head and look at her, eye to eye. So, he persisted through the pain.


    ¡°Thank you for not giving up on me, girl.¡±


    Gabriella stared back at Prince Mitakahn. Her pupils were like golden-amber suns being eclipsed by absolute darkness. They gushed at the sight of him. Mitakahn could read it all over the lioness¡¯ face, she was relieved. Her prince was going to be okay. Slowly, he adjusted his body and lowered his head so he could rub foreheads with the lioness. The warm gentle fur felt good on Mitakahn¡¯s skin, a feeling he knew very well. This brought Mitakahn¡¯s mind back to the Citadel and the royal gardens in Zepathorum.


    For a brief moment, it felt to Mitakahn like he was home again, and he truly, most deeply, to his core, needed to feel that. She closed her eyes when he did this. An exchange the lioness had grown accustomed to over the years and pined for recently. It immediately made the motherly cat feel at ease. Gabriella let out a loud purr, sniffed Mitakahn¡¯s forehead, gave it the tiniest of licks, her seal of approval, and finally left the side of the bed. She curled up on the floor between the bed and the door, abruptly falling asleep.


    He wanted to fall back asleep in the comfort of this high quality bed, but curiosity over where he was and what happened got the best of him. He had a lot of questions. Where was he? Time to examine the clues: the sheer white curtains with resplendent green trim decorated the windows lining the entire side of this bedroom. They were not rectangular windows. These were like alternating teardrops and giant ¡°V¡¯s¡± completely filling out the wall. The thin window lace curtains with the green trim and tree and vine patterns. That¡¯s when he realized exactly where he was.


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t left your side since you fell.¡±


    A voice from the door of the room.


    Mitakahn tried to focus his vision, getting his head up to peer over. The sun cast through the room and made it light enough to see Bridger¡¯s blue eyes and a big smile.


    ¡°Wonderful to see you awake, Mitakahn. It was touch and go there for a while.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for saving my life.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. I feel responsible for putting you in that predicament anyway, so it is only right.¡±


    ¡°It was my decision to take the shortcut, you were merely supporting me. It doesn¡¯t matter anymore. Look what it ended up costing.¡±


    ¡°It has only been a day, Mitakahn. We still have time.¡±


    Mitakahn felt a brief glimmer of hope flicker within him.


    ¡°What happened to the others?¡±


    ¡°No word, but they should be arriving any minute now, unless we ended up being the lucky ones.¡±


    Mitakahn looked worried.


    Bridger continued, ¡°But I was there, I saw what your lioness did to the ranks of those assassins. We left our friends in good standing. Have no fear, Mitakahn. They will catch up and together we will continue the course.¡±


    ¡°The goddess told me-¡±


    Mitakahn groaned as if he was straining himself. ¡°The people I surround myself with have the potential to change the world. We need them.¡±


    Bridger gulped. He looked at the door as if expecting someone, or perhaps in penance of something. He scratched the back of his head pensively before coming to and responding to Mitakahn.


    ¡°They will not let us down. Have faith in our friends. Get some more rest and before you know it, you will be on the way to Mount Fire. I promise you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Bridger. I cannot express how good it feels to be under your family¡¯s roof. In many ways it feels like home.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to the Woodland realm, Prince Mitakahn Arkenoir.¡± Bridger made it official.

 Chapter 62: The Woodlands

    CHAPTER 62 ¨C THE WOODLANDS


    Excelsior wiped his blade with the min-clothe as the group journeyed over the bridge and into the town suspended above the waterfalls. It was as clean as it was going to get after the bloodshed back at the border. They had finally made it to Compis Falls. There were only low leveled buildings, but the waterfall village¡¯s layout was so systematic and well inter-twined it was able to house a great deal of the Stag Kingdom subjects.


    Every one of the villagers at Compis Falls was outside doing something. Whether it was bringing food in from the forest cultivation centers or repairing scaffolding, no one was wasting time. A quiet citizen sweeping the front bridge looked up to find the company arriving. Excelsior led them around like he owned the place. It would appear that the wanderer fit in all his friends¡¯ hometowns like he was a lost brother. This was the true essence of the canine kingdom.


    Immediately, the company went to check on Mitakahn. They entered the fine glass palace, decorated with exotic flora and hard wood sculpted walls. Inside was a shaman sitting next to the bed of Mitakahn. Anilithion rushed to the bed and held Mitakahn¡¯s cold hand, ¡°Is he going to be okay?¡±


    ¡°It was close. For a while we thought we were going to lose him,¡± Bridger explained.


    Bridger¡¯s mother, the High Shaman, cut in, ¡°He is resting now¡­and will be fine when he wakes.¡±


    They were all relieved.


    ¡°What of the lioness that brought him here?¡± Anilithion persisted, ¡°Did she leave?¡±


    ¡°The lioness is bound to the prince,¡± the Shaman told the company, ¡°A beautiful example of the love in nature. She will always protect him. A creature worth more than any man. She sat by his side until he awoke, soon thereafter she left our lands.¡±


    Bridger showed them to the kitchen and the bathhouse while they waited for Mitakahn.


    Back inside he whispered to the Shaman, ¡°Her name is Gabriella.¡±


    ¡°Gabriella is a blessing from the gods.¡±


    The company refreshed and reloaded their packs and quivers. Occasionally, the shaman would return and check Mitakahn¡¯s bandages. His skin was black around the wound, his veins the grayish color of dead venom. There was also some mix of herbs and rebelgrass, ancient woodland grass brushed with the cosmos. It acted as a disinfectant, fusing with the venom and then purifying it through Mitakahn¡¯s system, clearing him of any more lasting effects. Rebelgrass was extremely rare and practically invaluable. The royal family of the Stag Kingdom used their rations on a prince from another kingdom. The lion prince would never forget it was the mercy of neighboring nations that saved his life.


    When Mitakahn awoke he had a new companion on the floor in his room. He got out of the bed and let Orion lick his face. He hugged the pup. Orion¡¯s black and brown fur brushed Mitakahn¡¯s face. It was the other end of the spectrum from the lioness¡¯ fur. Orion¡¯s was longer with a musty scent. Where Gabriella¡¯s coat smelled and looked pristine, the mangy mutt¡¯s wasn¡¯t exactly dirty, but it, to put it nicely-- smelled like the road.


    It was a good, earthy smell. It got Mitakahn thinking about his journey. He was so happy to be alive, but still tired after what he¡¯d been through. The prince wiped the tears from his cheek, hoping no one noticed. Mitakahn felt well enough to get up and walk around.


    Mitakahn greeted everyone and made it clear that he wanted to get back on the road to Mount Fire. He got his wounds wrapped with new bandages, found his pack replenished, and dressed and armed himself. Bridger walked in suited in his light battle armor with a cloak. Light enough to travel with, and at the same time plated armor over his shoulders and elbows for heavy battle. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°My father requests your presence in our royal hall before we go.¡±


    Mitakahn followed Bridger as he adjusted and locked his sword-belt around his tunic, ¡°I half-expected you to keep me from leaving so soon.¡±


    Tron ran up to them and put his arm around Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder, ¡°You are one tough son of an ape.¡±


    Mitakahn winced. Tron was anything, but gentle.


    ¡°Tron didn¡¯t believe me. I guess that proves I know you better.¡± He grinned.


    Bridger led them in. They entered the capital hall of Compis Falls, the royal family¡¯s hall, and the throne room of the Stag Kingdom. One of the most influential seats of power in all of MagnaThora.


    ¡°This is Rendir¡¯s Hall, and that is a memorial of our great ancestor, Korbin, the first Lord of the Woodlands,¡± explained King Mightier Callister, down at the head of the room speaking with the rest of the company, as he pointed to the mural over their head. It was of the shining Stag Gods, pale white bucks surrounding a boy kneeling down, wearing a crown made of silver vines. Mightier continued as they walked closer¡­


    The Legend of Korbin Callister


    Korbin was just a boy when greatness was thrust upon him. His father was dead before he was born. It was different back then, in the forest before the stags. Elemental monster predators reminiscent of the Fire Age reigned supreme. The first men of the Stag Tribe did not live very long. Korbin was raised by his mother and her sisters. When a Mongrel claw pierced his mother¡¯s heart during a night raid, he became an orphan. Korbin would always struggle to remember his mother¡¯s face.


    Something about the demons in the forest made them thirsty for the blood of man; maybe it was a primal directive to assassinate an entire species alpha. Many families of the woods found themselves in the same position as Korbin, one male amongst a horde of mothers, aunts, and sisters. As the years passed Korbin lost his aunts. They were paying the price for Korbin¡¯s life.


    Until finally he was old enough to wield a sword and protect himself, now only having one guardian left alive, his Aunt Luminora. Living in the forest and surviving where most had perished, hardened Luminora and Korbin. They slept in the trees and barely spoke, they¡¯re entire existence focused on one thing¡­survival by not drawing any attention.


    The first time the Grey Wolfe walked across MagnaThora he claimed the east as the biggest threat and vowed to found his tribe there. But before he could do all that he was an infant god exploring his new kingdom for the first time. The beasts of the Woodlands did not care if they killed man or god, so the young godling took preemptive control. The Wolfe laid whispers upon the great wildertrees, hundred year old pines and oaks, giving them the ability to protect themselves and other innocent habitants of the forests, including man.


    A mongrel could best be described as a stone beast with horns and fire in their eyes and breath. They ransacked certain parts of the Woodlands, burning down clusters of age old wildertrees. In those ashes the Wolfe¡¯s whispers grew pale white, leafless yearlongs. The trees grew unnaturally fast, never sprouting. Instead, the branches bent and fractured down, digging into the ash-ridden soil. As if life was leaving the branches they snapped apart. The tops of the branches pointed up into the air once again and the broken pieces of the branches remained stuck in the dirt. What grew beneath the ground absorbed the ash and shook the dirt off as it emerged, fur bound cleft hooves pushed its body up from below the soil with the pale branch tips on its head. Each yearlong tree bore multiple stags. With the ashes of the forests cleared by the stags the green was free to return. The stags were made of what remained after the mongrels¡¯ burn, which made them impervious to mongrel fire.


    The Stags gave the good of the Woodlands a fighting chance. What they needed was a champion. No one wanted to face the mongrels; men were set on waiting for the stags to drive them away. The stags were merely mortal, in fact it took multiple stags to defeat just one mongrel and often a couple of them died in the process. Korbin wanted to fight. Against every word of his Aunt Luminora he ran with the stags, all she could do was follow him. In the first assault Korbin¡¯s aunt was burnt alive. Korbin cried over her ashes from the battle and a white yearlong sprung. The night moved the dirt, and the white branches parted the ground, releasing the stag. It was twice the size of any other stag. He looked more carefully at it. There was a point for every sister, including his mother, in the stag¡¯s antlers.


    Korbin rode with the stags of the Woodlands and wiped mongrels off the face of the earth, freeing the woodland realm of monsters. Mankind was allowed to grow and prosper. It was only fit that they gathered around Korbin as a pillar of the gods¡¯ presence in the world. As a testament to his anointing the townspeople called him Lord Korbin Callister and knelt in his presence, eternally grateful of his sacrifice.

 Chapter 63: House Callister

    CHAPTER 63 ¨C HOUSE CALLISTER


    Underneath the painting was a metal plate engraved, ¡°Lib Korbinel del Enti¡± which translated from ancient tongue read, ¡°Korbin lives with the Gods.¡± The company had followed Bridger down the regal green carpet toward the throne. There, sitting atop a one-hundred and sixty-eight pointed antler throne, was King Mightier. Standing beside him was Bridger¡¯s mother, the High Shaman and Queen.


    They all stopped right in front of King Mightier on his tall throne and bowed. Mitakahn got down and balanced himself between Tron and Humbler. The king told them all to stand while Bridger joined his mother, his two sisters and younger brother before the throne, each bearing a gift.


    Although Bridger¡¯s younger sister, Coleandra, was the one who got to distribute the gifts to each of them, the queen took her gift and began with Mitakahn. As High Shaman of the Woodlands, Queen Ilyaretta, interpreted the will of the Stag Gods.


    ¡°We have been awaiting your arrival, since the bird of Legacy came for Bridger¡­ You are all on a very sacred path¡­ The great caribou told us of your coming, and our part to play¡­ The Forces of MagnaThora are with you, Mitakahn¡­ We have listened to them well and gathered the tools necessary to complete your journey¡­ Beginning with you¡­¡± the Queen finished up, staring deep into Mitakahn¡¯s eyes, reading them intently, ¡°¡­the center of it all¡­¡± she said, with almost a skepticism about her tone.


    She stood before Mitakahn and handed him a book, wrapped in brown leather, saying, ¡°You, Mitakahn, prince of the Lion-hearted, get a most curious gift, one not from us.¡±


    He pulled it out of the leather cover and looked through it. It was a worn journal with an ancient emblem on the cover. ¡°Not from you? Then who?¡± Mitakahn questioned out loud. Neither the Queen nor the King answered him. In fact, King Mightier lowered his head and closed his eyes upon his throne. This struck Mitakahn as odd. Bridger¡¯s sister, Coleandra whispered in his ear, ¡°It was your father¡¯s,¡± as she walked by to present Excelsior with his gift.


    Upon hearing her most impactful words, Mitakahn finally took notice of her and her beauty. She had long golden blond hair, and big crystal blue eyes, a true maiden of the forest realm.


    She handed Excelsior a small bottle with its cork attached to a necklace. He put it on and asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Solaris energas,¡± murmured Coleandra in an ancient tongue.


    ¡°Liquid sun,¡± the Queen translated as Coleandra brought the next gift over to Tron.


    She presented him with a golden armguard. ¡°Go ahead, put it on,¡± she urged.


    Tron slipped the armguard onto his right hand. A perfect fit. All of a sudden the King screamed out, ¡°Guard!¡± and one of the guards in the room, closest to Tron, came at him with a spear. Being thrown into motion by complete instinct, Tron raised the arm with the golden armguard to block the spear. The armguard clicked and parts of a shield came folding out, connecting on all sides. Before the spear hit Tron, his right arm was now armed with a golden shield, covering him from neck to knee. The spear bounced off Tron¡¯s arm-shield, and the guard returned to his original position. When Tron lowered his arm, the shield clicked once again, and retracted back into a simple golden fore-armguard. Tron now had a nifty new tool in his arsenal.


    Coleandra brought the next gift over to Anilithion. But before she could reach him the Queen interrupted, ¡°It appears, young knight, that you have already received a most gracious gift.¡±


    ¡°What does she mean?¡± Tron whispered to Mitakahn.


    Anilithion rubbed the collar of his cloak.


    Mitakahn answered Tron, ¡°He got that cloak on the road, after giving a traveler some bread.¡±


    ¡°Would you know, by chance, what kind of cloak this is?¡± inquired Anilithion.


    ¡°It is an ancestral cloak. One made by some of the earliest inhabitants of Crucifire Plains, a warlock¡¯s shroud. Capable of many talents, and by now I am sure that you have witnessed a fair amount of them. ¡±


    ¡°That is right, Queen,¡± confirmed Anilithion.


    ¡°But you shall not leave our royal halls empty handed,¡± said the Queen as she winked at Anilithion and then nodded to her daughter, to continue the ceremony.


    Coleandra stood before Anilithion and said, ¡°You are young, you are decent, you are hope,¡± as she handed him a brown whip, ¡°May this always be a way to get you where you need to go.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Anilithion looked at the whip. It was not lavish. It was not intricate. It was a simple whip. Part of him wanted to ask why he would need a whip when he has a perfectly good sword, but he was too awkward to speak up.


    Coleandra took a box from her younger brother Thorax and brought it over to Kunezar, opening it in front of him. Inside was a large decrepit skeleton key. Kunezar took it out and examined it.


    ¡°You will know how to use it when the time comes,¡± she reassured him, ¡°But do not be hasty.¡±


    Kunezar was very interested in the curious key. Did they know something about his life or journey that he did not? What ancient puzzle would he have to unlock in his future? Many more questions rang out in Kunezar¡¯s head as the royal family continued their generosity.


    Coleandra walked over to Humbler empty-handed. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re my gift,¡± he said, chuckling lightheartedly.


    The king leapt off the throne with an enormous sledgehammer in his hand towards Humbler. King Mightier slammed it down just before Humbler, scaring him enough to never take another look at Coleandra. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°This is.¡± When he threw the hammer into Humbler¡¯s giant hand, the proportions returned to normal. Humbler took a sigh of relief and admired his new weapon. Two joys erupted inside him at once, his affinity for smashing and the fact that he no longer had to worry about not having his sword anymore. Thankfully, the company had not met much trouble after the border patrol. Now, Humbler was prepared for anything.


    Oddly, he felt more comfortable with the sledgehammer than he did with his sword, which made him wonder why he did not think to arm himself with a sledgehammer in the first place. The edge of the circle that was the face of the hammer had whittled antler spikes woven into it. There was also a giant ivory horn sticking out of the back. The handle was smooth, finished wood with a couple of long sloped ridges. And there were two thick brown polished leather straps holding the head of the sledgehammer and the handle together, with two phrases carved into the leather straps saying, ¡°Soft Soul¡± and ¡°Stern Stroke¡± in the woodland tongue.


    Bridger was left holding the final gift. A thick piece of wood perfectly arched, injected and finished with thin strips of shiny metal.


    King Mightier began as Bridger stepped forward, ready to present the gift to¡­ he did not know who, as everyone now had something.


    ¡°It is a bow that only a true knight of the Stag Realm can wield, and my gift to you¡­ son.¡±


    Bridger¡¯s head popped up and he turned around.


    ¡°It was just molded together in the furnaces of the woodlands,¡± explained King Mightier, now back on his throne, ¡°The best weapon our kingdom can offer.¡±


    Bridger adored the bow. He held it close. It meant the world to him. He took two steps away from the altar and stopped himself.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Bridger looked at Mitakahn. ¡°I can¡¯t abandon my kingdom if what the phenom god said is true. I¡¯m sorry Mitakahn. I must stay behind and help my family prepare for the darkness.¡±


    ¡°Please son, do not be so deliberate. I have been preparing for the return of the darkness my entire reign as king. You have the right to assist Mitakahn on his quest. It is the will of the gods. You embolden the Stag Kingdom and the House Callister name by escorting prince Mitakahn, the godwalker, on his mission.¡±


    ¡°For once father, will you take my lead. I can do more good here helping you prepare.¡±


    King Mightier seemed to diminish the towering effect he had on the room from the throne altar. He got up close to his son Bridger.


    ¡°My father named me Mightier because he wanted me to be the strongest ruler in MagnaThora. That choice in namesake led me to a brutal life. Years of border disputes. Some called it a war. I was party to insurmountable bloodshed. Some battles we fought none other than Mitakahn¡¯s father, his rest in ever-lasting glory. All my father¡¯s intentions led to was blood and carnage, a tainted legacy I inherited.


    After his time was up and it became my turn to rule, I vowed to do better. For my own reasons I named my heir with the same intention of a namesake fate binder. I intended for you, my son, to be a bridge amongst all people of MagnaThora. Why do you think I insisted on the Academy? Now here you are.¡±


    King Mightier smiled and continued, ¡°rescuing a lion prince, on the back of a wanderer¡¯s canine, no less. I couldn¡¯t be more proud of you. So, I beg you¡­ hold true. Stay the course. Do not falter after all you have been through.¡±


    ¡°Yes, father. I understand now. I give you my word as knight and prince, I will stay by my friends¡¯ side and see this through until the end.¡±


    ¡°You honor your family greatly, prince Bridger. May you go now with all the blessings of the Woodland Realm.¡±


    Bridger bowed to his king and father and rejoined Mitakahn¡¯s ranks. They had all armed themselves sufficiently and made their way through to the balcony over the other side of the falls. Mitakahn marveled at the waterfalls as he carefully found room to put the journal in his pack. He had already decided on what to do with it. As if it was never really a choice at all. He would record all his past dreams, any dreams to come, and any connections real or theoretical between them. He would start a testimony of these events for future generations to read.


    He opened the first page and began to write about the dream he had the night before he was expelled. It seemed like ages ago, but not even a year had passed since. Over the remainder of his journey, Mitakahn would record all of his dreams before he forgot them. And later in his life, when times were calm, he would finally put it all together¡­granted he survived.


    The rest of the group finished packing and met him outside on the balcony. Before they left for the kayaks, Princess Coleandra bid them farewell and good luck.


    ¡°May the gods go with you, and do what they can, just as we, in helping you complete your journey.¡±


    King Mightier had sent a messenger to the outpost at River Fork Ford to close the dam and slow the river¡¯s current for ease of travel North. They would use the kayaks to make quick work of the final leg of their journey. The trip was a refreshing change of pace, not having to walk. They could switch off on paddling, all except Orion had to paddle at least some of the way.

 Chapter 64: Heading North

    CHAPTER 64 ¨C HEADING NORTH


    Mitakahn did not mind paddling even as his wounds finished healing. The river was soothing to him. The Woodlands had given him renewed strength. Although the current was against them, the winds were in their favor, and after they got some distance away from the waterfalls the current softened.


    Riding the water was a good break for them. They could pretend, for a good part of the day, that there was no impending doom or dire path upon them. Orion was definitely among those who cherished the experience. He laid in front of Excelsior¡¯s kayak, on his belly with his paws and head hanging over the boat, staring at his reflection in the running water. Excelsior felt the warmth of the Solaris Energas against his chest. It hung directly on top of his heart, keeping his core warm. It felt like constant fuel rushing his system. Excelsior paddled his boat alone with his big furry dog sprawled out on it, and despite the added weight still managed to keep the kayak in front of the others, without showing any signs of fatigue.


    Humbler rowed without care along with Kunezar lost in his key. Kunezar was still obsessing over his gift, the mysterious key. When would be the right time to use it? There was nothing in Kunezar¡¯s life right now that he needed to unlock. Nothing material, that is.


    Tron paddled along with Bridger in their kayak. They had decided splitting the trip up, so they were both paddling the entire time at half the effort was the fairest way to go about sharing the trip.


    Anilithion helped Mitakahn row them up the river. Although he could feel the wound on his shoulder with each stroke of the paddle, Mitakahn forced himself to paddle the entire trip. Right now, he was too preoccupied with more pressing issues like, whether or not they were too late, or what they would do once they got there. Mitakahn had to snap himself out of it. He tried meditation to calm his worries, setting his mind on more simple matters like appreciating the beauty of the river.


    Mitakahn saw Anilithion¡¯s head keep tilting toward his new whip. He finally told his younger cousin to take a break from paddling. He immediately went for the whip as Mitakahn chuckled, the burn of his wound reminding him he was not out of the woods yet. Anilithion held his whip in his hand.


    After a short while of inspecting it, he stood up and began to practice cracking the whip on the boat. He balanced himself on the kayak, standing up straight and cracking the whip out across the water. The first time he tried it, Anilithion lost his balance and fell into the water. Mitakahn, rowing behind him, quickly grabbed his cousin, and lifted him back into the boat before the current spirited him away. The rest of the group had a short laugh at Anilithion¡¯s na?vet¨¦, even Mitakahn couldn¡¯t help but join in.


    Later on in the day, when the prince was dry again and after much practice, Anilithion could crack the whip while maintaining his balance. Towards the end of the nautical journey, Anilithion had almost mastered the whip. He could crack water off the surface of the river and then split a drop in half, mid-air, all in two fluent cracks. It was uncanny. Mitakahn respected his younger cousin¡¯s commitment to getting good. Maybe it was to get the last laugh or maybe he was always a natural at it. The truth remained, Anilithion was becoming a force to be reckoned with.


    It was the Phoenix Kingdom¡¯s landmark that they would be traveling to next. Mount Fire was far up in the Northeastern point and the highest peak in the Burning Mountains Range. The river had taken them parallel with the road north until the water got too hot to travel in.


    The warriors docked their kayaks and continued on foot until they reached the edge of the Burning Mountain Range and Mount Fire. A long trail would still stand in front of them of narrowing and never-ending slopes that involved persistence and dedication. That is why only the truly committed (and those with wings) have made it all the way to the top to walk throughout the ancient civilization, which hides in the clouds. So the troop would rest and camp for the night. They would make for the summit in the morning.


    As Mitakahn stared at the bonfire the whole group went into production around him creating a camp. He tended to the fire, trying to predict what would happen in the days to come. Mitakahn did not want to think of anything. He was trying not to let his sorrow get the best of him. Orion sat by the fire opposite Mitakahn, watching him intently. The dog walked over, laid under the prince¡¯s hanging hand, and pushed his giant furry head up against his open palm.


    Mitakahn¡¯s hand twitched against the meadow shepherd¡¯s fur, and he realized he was not alone. He patted the pup¡¯s head. Orion sat up, now towering over Mitakahn. The boy looked up at the dog. He was overcome by the animal¡¯s remarkable perception. Mitakahn pressed his face headfirst into his chest, in full embrace. Something about the warmth and the comfort of the moment made Mitakahn lose his guarded exterior. The giant hound sat stern by the fire and let the tired prince release his grief and anguish into his fur. Tears ran down the brown and black canine hairs, dropping off, and evaporating before they hit the ground near the fire.


    Excelsior walked up to the fire and unloaded the logs he had just rounded up, ¡°Be careful Mitakahn, he¡¯ll let you do that all night. He¡¯s a sucker for affection. Contrary to legendary belief, my dog is a sap.¡±


    Mitakahn composed himself and mumbled, ¡°He knows not how much it means.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Oh, I think he has some idea. You bear too much on your shoulders, prince.¡±


    ¡°I know deep in my heart that I am too late, that everything we are doing right now is in vain. The Pride has fallen. And yet we sit here and wait. I can¡¯t take this anymore, Excelsior¡­¡± Mitakahn leaned forward past Orion and dried his eyes by the fireside. Excelsior took a seat next to the sunken prince.


    ¡°You hold power inside of you like no other, I can feel it. You cannot fall to despair now. That is just your demons escaping, so you can clear your head. To have great power in feeling is to fall victim to embracing emotion, but you must control your passion. You are a warrior of the Greyden Clan! A knight of the Silver Institute. You know that it is not yet over. We still have more trails to walk and battles to win. You know this. You can feel it¡­we still have purpose, we still walk for meaning.¡±


    ¡°You are wise, dear friend, wiser than I ever hope to be. It is a true blessing to have you by my side-¡±


    ¡°And I will always be. No matter what happens, I will be with you to the very end. And don¡¯t you forget, unlike the other ones who might make the same claim, I come with a bonus, the loyalty of two, wanderer and shepherd.¡±


    ¡°You sell yourself short. You also can make an impressive argument over anything. I do not know what I would do without you, without all of you. I am truly blessed by the gods,¡± Mitakahn confessed to his entourage as they all gathered around the fire.


    ¡°Father would send riders if anything were to happen, Mitakahn. They would find us,¡± consoled Anilithion.


    ¡°I tell you one thing, once this is all over¡­I can¡¯t wait to get back to Wilder Heights and enjoy a real meal,¡± Humbler announced.


    ¡°One of these days, Humbler, you must come to my city, where the cuisine is better than any other kingdom.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that?¡± Excelsior argued, being the only one who has been across MagnaThora and tasted all the custom cuisines of the kingdom.


    ¡°I know because unlike you, vagabond, I do not need to travel the world to taste regional food. Crucifire is such a big place. Every kingdom has at least one place to enjoy the rich diversity of tribal cuisine.¡±


    ¡°Sounds amazing,¡± Humbler licked his lips.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you guys, but the food at Compis was better than anything I¡¯ve ever eaten at Metuchen or the Pride,¡± Anilithion admitted.


    ¡°The fish from Metuchen, the roast boar from Wilder, it¡¯s all found in the Crucifire markets.¡±


    ¡°Enough. Tron, you are making me despise our rations¡­¡±


    ¡°Humbler¡¯s right, we should talk about something else.¡±


    ¡°We must get to sleep, gang. The road is unforgiving from now on,¡± recommended Kunezar.


    ¡°If only everyone could be as fortunate as Humbler, we could all fall asleep the moment we hit the floor,¡± joked Tron.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick to judge, it looks as though our royal company has seen the busiest of days and are now feeling the effects.¡± Humbler makes his case, pointing out Mitakahn and Bridger who were already fast asleep.


    Anilithion smiled being the last prince standing.


    ¡°Well then, I think we should all follow suit,¡± said Kunezar as he got comfortable.


    ¡°I shall take the first shift,¡± said Excelsior, ¡°Anilithion, I will wake you halfway through the night to keep watch.¡±


    ¡°Be gentle,¡± said Anilithion, who then gave him a grave look with a weird smirk.


    Bridger had to think twice. The brave fraternity slept another night in the wilderness.


    It was just after daybreak. They awoke and without much delay, packed their camp up and began the ascent on Mount Fire. What was even more impressive than being able to climb it in the first place, was the sole fact that a stone trail was made to guide the way. The mountainside trail quickly turned into a mountain climber¡¯s delight, a true test of physical prowess. Crawling straight up on all fours was the only way to get higher. Short but wide stairs were engraved into the stone for footings and grips.


    Soon the company was so high up in the air, if they were to slip and fall, they would splatter like a bug on impact. The higher they got the more treacherous the path became. To the point where even the stairs disappeared. The only way to keep climbing was to risk grabbing onto little nubs and knots created by the mountainside itself. Mitakahn, in his wariness tried to compare the trip up to the Temple of Virtue but was too tired to successfully concentrate. Instead, he focused on the climb.


    When the way became completely vertical, and nearly impossible, when it seemed like it would not be possible to go any further, and they would have to turn back¡­ Bridger, leading the climb, would make a jump high enough to find the hold of a step. Grabbing Anilithion like he weighed nothing, he pulled them both up over the edge.


    They looked up to reveal a long, gradually sloped stone staircase as far as the eye could see toward the top of the peak. And at the top of that peak was the home of the ancient Phoenix Kingdom. The two helped Orion up, and the three together gathered to pull a rope while the remaining adventurers still hung on for dear life on the other side. Mitakahn was the last to grab a hold and get lifted over the ledge.


    The final leg of the journey was truly at hand now. A glimmer of hope rekindled in all their hearts. The entire company marveled at the prospect ahead of them, a slow sloping pathway with steps few and far between. Humbler turned around to gather the rope when he felt a tug, and they heard a scream yelp out from where they just were, over the cliff.


    ¡°Hey!¡± A woman yelled at him. ¡°I was using that!¡±

 Chapter 65: Port of Descent

    CHAPTER 65 ¨C PORT OF DESCENT


    The rains stopped painting the fallen city black, but the dark clouds remained. The dark lord Malinor stood before his putrid clouds and surveyed the rubble of Port Caliber. He was holding a black metal staff that contained glowing red-yellow wood. The wood inside looked as though it was not on fire but the very fire itself. Malinor waved it through the air in a circle. Some of the dark clouds above him began to churn at the same pace.


    It twisted down into the cyclone and then funneled into a circle around Vestige Tower. The ring of darkcloud landed on the ground and any fire inside the circle immediately went out. By the time the fires finished burning, Vestige Tower would be the only building left standing beside Seaport Village. This was exactly what the Dark Lord intended.


    Broken helms of the fallen soldiers still washed ashore. The black and amethyst sails were pulled down and used to set up a battle station. The Dragon Kingdom was sinking its claws into Port Caliber before the next step... The inevitable purge of the entire Pride. From inside the city of Caliber, the Necrogallion was quickly switching over from a nautical assault to fully outfitted armies. Worse than that, the horrid Berserkers of the Southlands had given up on tailing Mitakahn and his company across the epitaph and were now assembling at the corrupted port.


    Malinor was furious. He did not expect prince Axion to return so quickly, this would draw things out. Instead of the two princes returning to a ruined kingdom, they clung to the idea of preserving it. Nevertheless, Malinor was here as the harbinger of death, the god of entropy. He would consume the north and gain the power to topple all of MagnaThora. It started here and it ended here. Not only did Casterosi best him in the field, Axion¡¯s return galvanized the retreat, saving most of the civilians. But not all the civilians. A gross smirk wiped across Malinor¡¯s face, just about the only thing you could see behind the mask, as its only opening.


    There were many citizens and soldiers of the Pride captured during the battle. Malinor had Admiral Zorrowfold present them to him. There were few worth mentioning. Old men, wounded soldiers, a hopeless lady here and there. The boy who saved Jericho, was one of the prisoners lined up in front of Malinor. Denison was still holding Jericho¡¯s sword. The pommel caught the attention of the Dark Lord. He knew the smithcraft of Metuchen royalty when he saw it. Malinor was in a particularly bad mood. They chose the poor boy to make an example out of and corrupt. The Mad Genius Spangalore joined Zorrowfold and the Dark Lord before the gathered darksiders and their city prisoners. The Emissary unfurled a dark min-clothe with weapons and torture devices inside of them. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    He took a small knife with a sleek blade and dipped it into the glowing gemstone chained across his chest and handed it to Spangalore. Spangalore cut the boy¡¯s skin open and drained from him his red life. The Emissary then slit his own dark wrist open and poured his black blood over Denison. It mixed with the boy¡¯s tears and seeped into his cuts, infecting him. They let him writhe in pain. On the sandy shore his body began to mutate, turning Denison from boy to beast.


    Denison felt the cold slide through his veins. It was after the light of his heart. Fear swept the child one last time as the infection hit his core. Fear turned into painful exhilaration. Pure power restarted his heart in the shadow of life. The reverberation was instantaneous throughout his body. He gurgled and cringed in the transformation of his body.


    His bones stretched out and his muscles formed abnormal tumors. His face grew beyond years into deformity. His hands twisted into claws that grasped the floor as his nose cracked and retracted, his fangs grew out, and his eyes widened and strained. His skin blistered and burnt from the toxic reaction to the transformation and left him darkened. Blisters swelled over and surrounded his eyeball.


    The pain subsided, but never left. His purity was reversed in essence. His bravery turned to ruthlessness. Denison now thirsted for the blood of man to feast upon and ease his pain. All humanity was lost inside, the child was no more. He was a warrior of the Dragon Kingdom and part of the Necrogallion now.


    He was an abomination. The Emissary laughed as he anointed Denison. The Necrogallion would use many forms of warfare but turning the Lion Kingdom¡¯s youth against them was a direct assault against the Pride¡¯s spirit. The Dark Lord Malinor applauded the work of Spangalore and the Emissary, a feat not easy to come by for any of his council. Whether they admitted it or not they all feared the Dark Lord and he in turn gave them reason to, religiously. He was a force to be reckoned with, something not entirely of nature.


    The Dark Lord watched all of his minions ran their own maneuvers for the assault. It all looked very promising to him, but he would not clue them in on that. Spangalore took the prisoners away, their fate would be the same as Denison. The Berserkers were harnessed by Admiral Zorrowfold¡¯s elite; a squadron of acolyte riders, raised in the fury of shadow. The Acolytes followed the dark arts and the old way of the dragon tribe; they were devout zealots, and the admiral came from a very old branch of their bloodline. The black cavalry mobilized, as the armada evolved into an army, and set out early to reap the first acts of havoc on the rest of the Pride.


    Behind them, the Emissary oversaw giant primordial eggs being cracked open. Upon the shell breaking and the ooze spilling, the bird-like creatures inside broke out and devoured the sailors up whole. They moaned in painful pleasure as their bones cracked out and expanded. The monsters stumbled into the ruined city, working through their demonic growing pains. In not much time at all, they would grow large enough to fly, and as soon as they could fly, they would start eating people. Well, they always eat people, these beasts can just eat more people once they can fly.

 Chapter 66: Taking Initiative

    CHAPTER 66 ¨C TAKING INITIATIVE


    Up the towers of Zepathorum, prince Axion could only see far out across the fields between cities, the Caliber fires were almost out and smoldering, feeding the dark cloud above the city with more black smoke. Terrified at both the sight ahead, and the looming night, Axion sat on his balcony in suspense. His nerves were too abused and left to a frozen static. Axion could feel his nerves like a shell around him.


    Anilithy¨¬stad came out onto the balcony and rested his arm on the back of Axion¡¯s chair. ¡°It is just a matter of time¡­now¡­¡± he said with a sigh.


    It was a humid day, reminiscent of the ones before a storm. Axion squirmed in his seat, unwillingly choking down the dissatisfying feeling of doing nothing. The cloud would grow over Zepathorum, and the black rain would come again to destroy as it did with Caliber. Axion knew this was their fate.


    He looked out onto the horizon and saw death. He would not stand for it. The prince would do everything it would take to keep himself and his loved ones from dying. What happened to his father, he had no control over; this made him overcompensate in the bonds that he still kept. Axion was ready to do whatever it took to save his kingdom. The only question was¡­ how far would he have to go?


    Axion looked up at his uncle. ¡°What do we do, Uncle?¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad abandoned his post over the chair¡¯s shoulder and walked around to face his sitting nephew on one knee.


    ¡°Take the throne, Axion.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Your kingdom needs a leader.¡±


    ¡°I told you, it is my father th-¡±


    ¡°It is your father¡¯s will for you to be king!¡± interrupted Anilithy¨¬stad, caught in a rage. ¡°You can no longer afford to hide in his shadow,¡± he continued in a softer tone while standing up and heading for the door, ¡°not when there will soon be shadow all around us.¡±


    Axion did not respond. He just sat there on the balcony left to think about his uncle¡¯s fleeting words. Anilithy¨¬stad walked through Axion¡¯s room where Jericho and Mortikahn were waiting, Mortikahn working on his dagger tricks.


    ¡°Your cousin has lost his nerve,¡± informed Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°go help him find it.¡±


    Without looking at his father, Mortikahn got off of Axion¡¯s bed and headed for the balcony. Jericho stood up and adjusted the armor covering his wounded arm.


    ¡°I will be in the Throne room,¡± concluded Anilithy¨¬stad as Jericho nodded his head and they both headed for the different doors.


    Jericho entered the balcony and found his two cousins, Axion and Mortikahn, silently watching the quenching lights of Caliber.


    ¡°You can tell it really is night time,¡± stated Jericho, trying to make his older cousin feel better.


    ¡°I know,¡± he replied, being quickly cut short by young Mortikahn¡¯s inquiring mind.


    ¡°How can you tell?¡± he asked.


    Axion further explained as they stumbled into a candid conversation. Jericho stifled a smile. His plan was working, and Axion was beginning to come out of his disheartened state. Jericho now had him distracted; his next step would be to get him inside. This plan would not work unless it was without Axion¡¯s awareness. If tipped off, he would undoubtedly turn back to reluctance.


    Jericho racked his brain for a solution. And then, without any kind of gentle gesture by Jericho or hint to his plan, Mortikahn unknowingly led Axion inside the castle with a simple question.


    ¡°How ¡®bout we get something to eat?¡±


    Perhaps it was the naivety or youth in Mortikahn¡¯s eyes, because after his suggestion, all Axion could think about was the basic prospect of satisfying his hunger. In the past day it fell into the background of Axion¡¯s mind and became a luxury, but now it had once again resurfaced as necessity. Jericho followed them inside, silently mesmerized, and down the spiraling staircase towards the mess hall.


    Zepathorum City was virtually untouched. The tailing dragon warriors had been put down by arrow-fire. Its walls were immensely high. Its sleek outer walls of tangled crystal and stone, curved in as they reached the top and then pointed out at an immediate even level, making it almost impossible to drop ladders on. When seen from afar, the gates¡¯ optical effect made it look like the entire city was wrapped in a wide crimson crystal ribbon.


    Its only weak point was the border which the city shared with Lake Niobi. The beach was completely walled off from the city by the citadel courtyard, and there were many small doors and doorway openings mingled throughout it. Zepathorum City was a true work of art, the entire city was made to be perfectly symmetrical, culminating at Crimson Boulevard, which starts at the front gate of the city and ends at the Citadel and home of the royal family.


    The road led throughout the entire city, filled with marketplaces and neighborhoods, and surrounded by the gates and skyscrapers, like the Capital Courthouse where Mitakahn¡¯s hearing was held, and the National Temple. The Citadel had a circumventing courtyard intricately dividing the Royal Citadel with the rest of the city and the beach. At the end of the road the courtyard opened up to a wide circle in front of the two main doors of the Citadel. The circle was the heart of the courtyard. It was here that the statue of four lions, honoring King Theomitus, the Young, a gift from the miners of the Bear Kingdom, stood tall. Just inside those two main doors to the capital was the mess hall in which Axion, Jericho, and Mortikahn were now eating.


    Jericho had gotten up from the table when Axion asked him, ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°Throne Room,¡± said Jericho.


    Axion thought about the implications for a moment, and replied, ¡°I can¡¯t do what Anilithy¨¬stad wants me to do, Jericho¡­ not now.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­But right now all he wants is council,¡± said Jericho.


    ¡°And who else knows these lands better than you, Axion?¡± asked Mortikahn.


    He rose from the table with a now-convinced Axion and followed Jericho out of the mess hall and back up the spiral staircase. The three cousins got to the Throne Room and came upon an unexpected sight. Inside the room was not only Anilithy¨¬stad, Galastad, Mercinestor, Cipher, and Commander Cel¡¯a, but Queen Ady¨¢na as well.


    Anilithy¨¬stad hadn¡¯t gone straight down to the Throne Room when he left Axion¡¯s quarters. He made a quick stop at the Queen¡¯s chambers. Ady¨¢na saw the spirit of her family failing and wanted to help in any way she could. Just as Jericho and Mortikahn rallied Axion, Anilithy¨¬stad rallied Ady¨¢na, and Galastad. With his family together as well as House Casterosi and Commander Adora, Axion was prepared to use the full reach of his power across the kingdom. It was time to think of a strategy for salvation. All different attempts were immediately brought to the table¡­


    ¡°We must fortify the city now,¡± said Cel¡¯a.


    ¡°We have at most a day before they¡¯re here,¡± said Ady¨¢na.


    ¡°The Dark Lord knew exactly what to do, and where to hit.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a matter of time before the City is attacked.¡±


    ¡°What we need to do is save as many as we can before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°A miracle.¡±


    ¡°The Seraphin Ravine.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°My mother speaks of a place of refuge for our kingdom. The only other stronghold,¡± explained Axion.


    ¡°Is it a day¡¯s ride away?¡± asked Mortikahn.


    ¡°It¡¯s barely half a day¡¯s ride,¡± said Axion.


    ¡°Well then¡­¡± conjured Jericho, half sitting on a desk, ¡°what are we waiting for?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Reinforcements,¡± put Axion bluntly.


    ¡°Pardon me?¡±


    ¡°Uncle, can you get a message to the Metuchen relief? Something¡­that can penetrate these conditions?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do¡­¡±


    ¡°We alert the people of the Serengeti to make for the Seraphin Ravine, and for the reinforcement ranks to meet us there in the early hours of the morning. Then we extract everyone we can out of the Serengeti and hold the city¡­for as long as we can.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ludicrous, Axion!¡±, ¡°They¡¯ll be safer there,¡±, ¡°It¡¯s suicide!¡± yelled Galastad, Jericho, and Mortikahn simultaneously.


    ¡°It¡¯s necessary,¡± defended Anilithy¨¬stad.


    Axion nodded his head at his uncle and continued, ¡°Commander Cel¡¯a, please assist my mother in moving the women and children into the Citadel, as many as you can fit. Uncle Nestor and Cipher, I charge you with calling the banners of the great houses. Hit every province and major vassal, start with House Silonas, and work your way back in. You will have to be very judicious with your timing. Recruit too few and it won¡¯t tip the scales in our favor but wait too long and there won¡¯t be anything to save.¡±


    ¡°Jericho and Mortikahn notify the troops and tell them to draft a wider range of age. Galastad, alert the council of our plans. We need to be over the lake before dawn. This is it. This is how we survive.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad followed the orders of his nephew proudly, for he knew¡­ this recent horror and bloodshed had pushed Axion¡¯s will to lead. Without knowing it, Axion was now standing in front of the throne, watching all of his future subjects filing out of the doors. He had issued explicit directions and they were now all on their way.


    Before Axion could give himself time to think about it, he thought of a place he could go to quiet his mind and gather his thoughts. They would need as many defenders and fighters as they can muster, for city guards, caravan cavalry, and most of all, lest we forget, infantrymen. This meant stretching the limit of a good soldier and allowing both young and old men to join; farmers and merchants getting suited up with armor and armed with sword and spear to protect the preservation of their race.


    Jericho and Mortikahn got the word out. They rode through the city spreading the prince¡¯s plans and recruiting as many as they could. Meanwhile, Galastad walked into the National Temple and found all of the elders and councilors praying their magnitudes to Jacob and the Lion. Galastad approached the altar. He caught Demeter, the fallen governor, deep in redemption and penance, on his knees in one of the back rows.


    He got to the head of the temple and addressed the Council of Wartime Elders. They were the selected few, chosen from every separate part of the nation. They were the wisest and the righteous of the kingdom. Galastad said unto them simply, ¡°Prince Axion has a plan¡­¡± and formally informed the collected conscious of the Kingdom¡¯s spirit. Their reactions were all simple, they conceded, and were at the point where any plan was a good plan.


    Lord Mercinestor and Cipher said their farewells and took a small contingent of their provincial troops with them, leaving behind what they had been able to muster after the storming of Caliber. It was all they had right now besides the royal guard. There was an entire army out there to be summoned by their liege lord. Mercinestor and Theomitus used to do it together, after an ancestral bond between royal bloodlines, a split of power between the Pride King and the Pride Liege Lord. Those were the proudest days of the old lord¡¯s life, riding from town to town with his best friend the king, getting to know the people and marching off to fight for them.


    These were dark times, an ill fate for the aftermath of Theomitus. Lord Mercinestor would do everything in his power to save the kingdom. He would give his life to protect that which his best friend held so dear, his best friend who couldn¡¯t be here to fight side by side with him. Instead, he had Axion, a true hero in his own right, all he needed to do is take the steps. Until then, it mattered not. They would fight until there was no fight left in them. Mercinestor and Cipher Casterosi rode out into the Serengeti to unite the banners of the Pride, a desperate attempt at the kingdom¡¯s salvation and yet the best chance they had at surviving.


    Anilithy¨¬stad walked up the spiraling staircase of the Citadel to the highest room in Zepathorum City. Above the throne room and the royal quarters was one last attic room before the tower came to a point at the top. Half of the roof in the room was missing and curved inwards, making a majority of the room a balcony. Anilithy¨¬stad entered the nearly abandoned patio. He crouched over on one knee in the center of the floor and pulled a pouch out of his pocket. He took two pieces of charcoal out of the pouch and held the two stones in his hand. Anilithy¨¬stad brought his hands together and both smothered and cracked the pieces of charcoal. He put the two pieces on the floor. In a matter of seconds, the charcoal began to emit black smoke.


    Anilithy¨¬stad picked the pouch back up, turned it upside-down, and poured out a small bit of shavings. These shavings were of resin rocks, particularly a smooth green stone with a glowing core. He poured the bit of it in his hand onto the charcoal rocks and blew the remaining shavings on his hand into the black smoke. The shavings whistled and cracked when they ignited into the atmosphere. A green jet of light surrounded the room and then shot up into the sky, with a charcoal shadow, straight through the massive cloud that had covered the entire Serengeti.


    It breached the protected night sky, refracted once caught by the moon¡¯s rays and redirected back down to the earth. The light shot south towards the shores of Metuchen. Anilithy¨¬stad had done the only thing he could for the relief of Zepathorum, but for now he could only sit and wait for an answer. By now he knew the riders that he had first sent out upon hearing Mitakahn¡¯s dreams would have reached King Avalahn and Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s brother, Paxikahn. By now, Paxikahn would be leading a full regiment of cavalry into the North.


    When he returned to the Throne Room and found no one there, Anilithy¨¬stad continued down and out of the tower to the courtyard circle. Queen Ady¨¢na was opening the doors of the Citadel, and Jericho and Mortikahn were returning from their recruitment run.


    ¡°At least a hundred are on their way, two hundred tops,¡± reported Jericho.


    ¡°It¡¯s a start,¡± compromised Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°where is Axion?¡±


    ¡°He is not in the tower?¡± doubted Jericho.


    ¡°He¡¯s where he always goes when he needs time to think,¡± informed Queen Ady¨¢na, ¡°One goes to the stables, and the other goes to the garden.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean Aunt Ady?¡± furthered Jericho.


    ¡°My sons, so alike and yet so different... Axion would always find refuge at the stables with the warhorses. And Mitakahn, whenever he needed to think, I would find him in the garden, with the lions. I wonder where he is now¡­ And if he knows how much I miss him¡­¡±


    ¡°He knows, brave Queen,¡± comforted Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°he knows.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad hopped onto his horse and the three knights of the Steed Kingdom made haste to the stables. There the royal guard or lack thereof, was getting ready for the rescue mission. Axion was sitting with Huntross and petting his mane.


    ¡°We are ready,¡± reported Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Twenty-four soldiers are armed and waiting at the front gates of the city,¡± added Mortikahn.


    ¡°The rest we told to report to the city guard,¡± concluded Jericho.


    ¡°Good. How many total?¡± asked Axion reluctantly.


    ¡°At best¡­two hundred...¡±


    Axion did not respond. He just shook his head and bit his lips, as he harnessed Huntross for the ride.


    ¡°Hold on¡­¡± paused Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°you don¡¯t think you¡¯re coming with us do you?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± exclaimed Axion.


    ¡°Your place is here¡­ with your people. If we fail¡­they need you, Axion¡­to the very end.¡±


    ¡°Uncle, how many times must we have this conversation-¡±


    ¡°Not this time! There is no argument this time. I am your elder! You must do what I say! Respect your uncle¡¯s wishes, boy. It might be his last request.¡±


    Axion stood still as the wind kicked up and was funneled through the stables. The torches were blown fiercely and Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s presence was at its greatest.


    His horse jumped back on its hind legs, and he yelled out, ¡°Heeyahh!¡± galloping down the path to the exit. Mortikahn followed his father out along with the rest of the royal guard on their horses.


    Jericho held back and gave his cousin a final look. ¡°Good luck, Axion¡± he said.


    ¡°Make sure you all get back alive,¡± ordered Axion.


    ¡°I will,¡± reassured Jericho as he turned his horse around and kicked it into a trot.


    Axion watched the dirt settle, the wind die down, and the flames return to a simmer. He remained in the stables, alone with only Huntross and the rest of the horses. Axion thought intensely on what else he could do...


    Every second wasted is a life spent.


    As Anilithy¨¬stad rode out of the city, leading his son, nephew, and the rest of his squad of twenty cavalry, he saw a green streak fly into the air from the southwest. The streak popped into a yellow flash and fizzled away.


    Jericho rode up from the back. ¡°Did you see that!?¡± he pointed out, ¡°Metuchen answered! They¡¯re mobilizing!¡±


    Both Anilithy¨¬stad and Mortikahn were surprised. It was incredibly hard to learn resin code. Mortikahn could not even fathom attempting to learn it yet. Let alone, Anilithy¨¬stad, who had struggled with it for years, but just recently mastered it.


    ¡°All that from a green wisp of clouds?¡± testified Mortikahn.


    ¡°It is a very intricate trade, son. Each turn in direction and change of shade has its own individual meaning. After that you have to be able to account for weather conditions and other anomalies,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad tried to explain, ¡°All that matters is they are going to meet us at the ravine.¡±


    ¡°Where is the Seraphin Ravine?¡±


    ¡°I went there once, a very long time ago, halfway between here and the Equitor River, slightly further west towards the mountains. It¡¯s an underground off-shoot of the Atlas range, completely hidden from plain sight. It¡¯s a small network of caves with running water. Not a bad refuge. We can make it there with ease. What we need to worry about is getting flanked from our right side. They could have sent out riders already. We have to be ready for anything. Tell the men to stay sharp!¡±


    Jericho and Mortikahn fell back and gave the rest of the knights the orders. The rescue team rumbled down the Serengeti. In the distance, to the west, wild fires lit the horizon; evidence of the first towns besides Caliber getting attacked. The darkness was now spreading on the ground to match the black sky. The trip back for them will most certainly be more difficult.


    ¡°Will you be able to find it in the dark?¡± asked Mortikahn.


    ¡°We are almost there,¡± answered Anilithy¨¬stad indirectly.


    The rescue team had made tremendous headway. Since their departure, they had come across many small communities and villages. In each one, they told the people to make for Zepathorum City as fast they as could and to avoid the west. These were uncertain times that the knights were in. And yet they rode on, with fierce conviction and no regrets.

 Chapter 67: Mount Fire

    CHAPTER 67 ¨C MOUNT FIRE


    Mitakahn, along with the rest of the company, turned around at the sound of the traveler¡¯s voice. Humber quickly informed the group, ¡°It¡¯s a girl!¡±


    As they all ran over and helped her up, she spotted Mitakahn and said, ¡°Mitakahn!? What are you doing here? You look terrible.¡±


    ¡°Euphrati?¡± Mitakahn replied with equal confusion, ¡°I could ask you the same thing¡­ Where is Axion?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being led to my birthplace.¡±


    ¡°By what?¡±


    ¡°I believe you know him as Chronis¡­¡±


    Anilithion laughed, shook his head, and put his hands on his hips smiling, and then he said, ¡°That bird never ceases to amaze me.¡±


    Mitakahn gave Euphrati water. He was in awe of how she just made that climb after their own struggle. Mitakahn knew the legends that followed Mount Fire. It appeared as though Euphrati had a place here just like he did. Mount Fire was reserved only for those who deserved to be there, those who had such a fire in their heart that not even an impossible climb could stifle.


    ¡°Where did the silver-tailed hawk go?¡±


    ¡°He disappeared when I started the climb¡­¡±


    ¡°Most likely onto his next recruit,¡± scoffed Bridger.


    ¡°Rest now, Euphrati¡­the hardest part is behind us.¡±


    ¡°Thank you so much for the hospitality, my friends, but what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here for a magical fire sword,¡± Humbler said.


    Mitakahn explained, ¡°Euphrati I¡¯ve been exiled from the Pride because of the dreams I had in your town. We tracked down the goddess Epiphany who confirmed my premonitions to be true. The Pride is in grave peril and the Crucifire Sword may be the only thing that can save them.¡±


    Euphrati¡¯s face went pale. ¡°Mitakahn¡­¡± she said, ¡°Axion went back¡­to overturn your exile¡­He will be riding right into the danger.¡±


    ¡°We have to hurry!¡±


    The company absorbed another member, and they hiked the drawn out staircase to the mountain summit. Before long they were at the town of the Phoenix Kingdom. It had no official name nor could be considered a city. It was an intricate network of catacombs and tunnels. The mountain peak was old, and the cavern openings up here were some of the oldest and longest in the entire Burning Mountain Range.


    Up this high and tangled altogether they breached the surface like mountainous intestines before opening up. Within the nest of burrows and tunnels cracks revealed the molten lava below. Above the nest were ruins. All of the melted remains shined red atop the catacombs. Topping the ruins was the Temple of Fire overlooking the town, then the northern most tip of the mountain and all MagnaThora.


    Euphrati felt a subtle excitement that she could not control, some new energy that was getting to her. Mitakahn could not help but think about his country¡¯s imminent destruction. At best he had the rest of the day to find the sword. Their journey back alone would take too long for the odds to favor them. This could all be for nothing. What good is a magical sword of fire if there is nothing left to save with it? These thoughts were no good for him, but on this long walk of constant ascension there was room for heavy analysis.


    In short time, Mitakahn and his company found themselves looking upon the city of Mount Fire. In this city there were no tall buildings, only pinched ruins left over from a monstrous meltdown. The lava formed many tunnels and caverns in which the kingdom reclaimed as their city. What the Phoenix¡¯s sacred volcano destroyed, also helped to create a new life from the ashes. The only building still standing in its entirety was the Temple of Fire, with its thick molten columns built upon the highest ground on Mount Fire¡¯s peak, it escaped volcanic activity.


    The company took solace in the view up ahead, only a system of tunnels before they reached their destination. There was a charcoal slated arch built above the five entrances to the tunnels. Mitakahn looked back at Euphrati and asked, ¡°Which way?¡±


    ¡°Why would I know?¡±


    ¡°Take a guess,¡± Mitakahn smiled as if he knew something she didn¡¯t.


    ¡°The middle one...¡±


    It was a good choice. Mitakahn nodded his head in approval as they continued into the mountain deep. Most of the paths split and diverted, but the main ones led together into the main chamber. This cavernous room provided a suitable central district for the community. Inside were small market shacks, meeting houses, and prayer yards. That, combined with schools and courts, made up the essential system necessary to sustain the Phoenix Kingdom. There were not many roles in the community. Everyone was considered a priest or priestess. Once you came of age in the kingdom, you were anointed into the priesthood and blessed with your wings of fire. It was a rite of passage for any of the kingdom¡¯s kin.


    They continued into the already thriving underground metropolis and together searched for a sign or direction to the temple.


    ¡°Anyone know how to get to the temple?¡± bellowed Humbler from the back of the group as two priests walked by.


    They kept their heads down with their birch brown hoods up. Their cloaks were only lit by the reflection of their wings.


    ¡°I bet it¡¯s just straight forward,¡± predicted Bridger.


    ¡°We have to be sure,¡± warned Tron.


    ¡°We can split up,¡± suggested Anilithion.


    ¡°That might be a good idea, Mitakahn,¡± expressed Kunezar.


    Orion sniffed the floor and ran back over to Excelsior who was standing next to Mitakahn.


    ¡°What do you smell, boy?¡±


    Orion looked at his master, who knelt down next to him and patted the back of his head. Meanwhile, Euphrati looked around at this strange place. Something felt off to her. Not a wrong feeling, but a new one. One she has never felt before. It made her sad, made her regretful of the past. Why? The poor girl did not know. She covered up her tearful eyes and waited for the group to decide which way to go, hoping the attention would remain off of her and no one would notice her affliction. Flashes of massive towers checkered her mind when she wiped her eyes.


    ¡°Observatories,¡± said Mitakahn out loud, almost stealing the words right out of her mouth. He twisted his body with a snap and looked back right at Euphrati, like he was trying to decipher a code. ¡°¡­we should go¡­ to¡­ the towers,¡± he continued.


    She nodded her head in agreement, still rubbing her eyes but really just masking the runaway tears. Mitakahn stood in the center of the group and did not say a word while the ideas bounced around. Euphrati was beginning to figure out how he interacted with the flow of reason and conversation, but to her it still just seemed like Mitakahn could read people¡¯s minds. For now, all she wanted to think about was getting on their way and saving Axion. And right now, for some reason, that meant going to the Observatories.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see any towers on the walk in,¡± refuted Kunezar.


    Euphrati opened her mouth to reply to Kunezar but before she could Mitakahn was already talking, ¡°Just because we didn¡¯t see it, doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t there.¡±


    It¡¯s as though she could not get a word in without Mitakahn interrupting her, but really Euphrati was speechless, an overwhelming feeling had taken over her body in nervous sensation. She did not understand, and innocently victimized herself to this cruel fate. Somehow there had to be a way out of it.


    ¡°Someone should ask one of these monks,¡± proposed Excelsior, lurking around on the outer edge of the group with Orion, plotting and graphing.


    Euphrati knew it should be her who stepped forward.


    ¡°Excelsior is right,¡± seconded Humbler.


    Orion sniffed a trail past Excelsior and came upon two monks in deep prayer and ritual.


    ¡°Not to worry, they¡¯re always like that,¡± said Excelsior with a cynical overtone.


    Euphrati found her voice, ¡°Excuse me, sir,¡± she asked softly, in only the way a woman could portray, ¡°but can you direct us to the Observatories?¡±


    ¡°Who shall it be?¡± asked one of the priests in utter excitement, ¡°but little baby Eberlyn!¡± he finished as both priests turned around, ¡°back from the dead!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± she responded.


    ¡°I know that face. Look at me. It is you! Now all grown up you have finally returned,¡± the sullen sage continued getting closer to her, looking deep into her telling eyes. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°You know me? But my name is Euphrati¡­¡±


    The Legend of Eberlyn


    When she was but a baby with no name, many years ago, her mother, Lyne¨¢ was a priestess of the Phoenix, one of their best students. Her father came back from his eternal duty and married Lyne¨¢, settling into his fatherly role, and giving her the name Eberlyn. There was a brief moment of paradise in their lives before the entire kingdom was taken by the volcano¡¯s fury. The lava buried the small village and homes into the rock.


    Since then, they learned to live in the Incapsulated aftermath. Until now, the presumed fate of Eberlyn and her father was the same as Lyne¨¢, a fiery grave with the other victims. But¡­ before the molten flood reached the baby¡­


    Eberlyn¡¯s father grabbed the baby and flew out of harm¡¯s way. A tenured Gatekeeper, he was the bravest of hearts and one of the most inept of their kingdom. He flew true, narrowly avoiding colliding his fiery wings with lava and or ash-cloud, rendering him flightless. The massive cloud of ash suffocated anyone¡¯s wings who tried to escape. There were many who succumbed to the ash instead of the flame in a desperate attempt to escape their fate.


    If there was anyone that could power through it, it was Eberlyn¡¯s father. He escaped the immediate perils of the fire and molten lava, but it had taken too much time. There was no beating time. There was no taking it back or undoing. His time was up the minute the cloud of smoke became too large for him to evade. Now time was all that remained.


    The cloud choked him off from the source, causing his wings to extinguish. All that remained to power his wings was his own fire. The part of his soul that burned inside him, the thing that connected him to the Flame Eterna and the rest of humanity fueled the fire that flew him to a safe distance. He cradled the baby, protecting her from the smoke, keeping her breathing, as his light faded. He burned himself out getting as high as he could, but he could not break through beyond the smoke. The fire in his heart, the light in his eyes, his flame went out, his wings vanished, and his path arced in the cloud.


    He mumbled a prayer before losing consciousness and his eyes lit aflame devouring his pupils, and then eyeballs. The flames burned in his eye sockets and his flames reappeared for a moment before turning thick, almost like lava themselves. The plasma wings cocoon the father holding the baby and then turn to hardened ash, akin to charcoal. The ashen cocoon plummets through the smoke cloud to the ground. His last dying act was saving Eberlyn¡¯s life. Her father made the ultimate sacrifice.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°Your family was one of the proudest amongst our community,¡± began the other priest, ¡°Able to show honor to the Sunbird in the most worthy of ways, the creation of life. You are one of the last generations of our kingdom. You are Eberlyn, daughter of Atari, and scion of the Phoenix Kingdom.¡±


    Euphrati could not process what she was hearing.


    ¡°¡­I¡­I can¡¯t believe this. For so long I have wondered where my true home was. Now I finally know, and it all seems so¡­ surreal. And yet it all makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t she have wings?¡± interrupted Humbler.


    ¡°Not yet anointed¡­She has never prayed to the Phoenix God,¡± explained Excelsior.


    ¡°The wanderer is correct. You have never been baptized in the fire of our god,¡± added the priest.


    She took a deep breath. What did all this mean? Was she destined for something? Where could she find actual proof of her parents and not just stories? Perhaps, they had a grave or some kind of remnants of their household. And then in outrage, she decided to swallow everything she was feeling, ¡°There will be time for all of this later, Axion needs our help,¡± Euphrati said righteously forcing attention back onto her beloved.


    The two priests took note of her resolve and escorted Euphrati up to the Fire Temple along with the rest of the company. They escalated into a tunnel that closed tight around them and was slightly smaller than a hallway. When the team came out the other end, they saw the Temple of Fire in front of the golden burnt clouds and the setting-sun-speckled-sky. There was but little space between the temple and the tip of the peak, a tip that was stabbing the fielded sky of clouds. Three zigzagging flights of stairs led up to the entrance of the temple.


    A black door wrapped in dark molten red columns replicated the same color as the mountain rock. The building had similar qualities to the Temple of Virtue, but its differences were clear. For one, there were barely any corners on this temple. Covered in archways and smooth borders, everything was rounded out and curved in, except for the flat triangular ceiling topping the temple. There was one symbol between the door and the ceiling: a circle in the center of the wall with an iconic flame inside of it constantly churning.


    They walked inside of the temple and found a cathedral hidden underneath the crested temple walls. The roof was really a thin crystal window, filtering the sun into red sequential rays. Before the entrance to the cathedral there was a bordering gate with intermittent archways, the main one in between them and their destination.


    The company walked into the cathedral as the daily ceremony was starting. The gothic church was a dark amber stone building. The curvedly sloped roof was held up by four walls of pillars. Within these pillars smoothly ridged archways provided entrances and exits. The archways made ribbons upward to mimic the natural structure of the kingdom¡¯s wings. Two elegant curving lines came together at a point in the middle of the doorway.


    The temple could not be set on fire. Made from the same material as the dormant volcano, it looked as though it was carved directly from the mountain along with the rest of the catacombs. This must have been the effects of the volcanic blast. It looked like the kingdom had carved out its old prayer-house after the lava-slide settled.


    Everything inside the temple was smooth like it was sculpted by the lava¡¯s current. Even the benches and altars were stationary pieces of the temple, part of the mountain. Huge murals lined the three walls of the prayer room: on the left was an epic depiction of Patronalus and the Crucifire Sword fighting in the ancient battle, to the right a scenic portrait of Mount Fire erupting lava from its core, and in front behind the main altar an intricate carving and interpretation of the Phoenix. The Phoenix was the bringer of light to this world, or so did the Phoenix Kingdom believe.


    The company came in and sat down in the back, spectators of both a legendary and redundant ritual. All the monks came in one after another. When they passed under the archway their wings extinguished. They came in and filled the stands, but they did not sit. Mitakahn stood along with everyone else in the back rows.


    The two priests who walked in last did not file in with the rest of them but continued their path to the altar at the head of the room. They put red robes on and then dressed the altar with a red cloth. One priest stood behind the altar facing the crowd, the other went to get a white cloak and put it on the head priest¡¯s shoulders. He turned around and walked to the back of the room.


    ¡°May the Lord Alphatross bless us all in our unity. We thank you for another day under the warm sun and blue sky.¡±


    The gathered monks responded together, ¡°Ever-Glory to the skies and heavens.¡±


    The priest kept talking and repeating their daily ritual. Mitakahn looked around searching for a cove or backroom that the sword could be found in. He was beginning to get anxious. He worried if soon he would be compelled to disturb the mass and ask them where¡¯s the Sword of Fire. Instead, he kept to himself and examined the side of the wall with the sculpture of Patronalus on it.


    Very fine layers of red glossy stone overlapping on the wall created a natural masterpiece. He was almost too distracted by its complexity and beauty to look away. But there was no need to. There were no other doors or cupboards on that side of the temple. The roof was another sight to see. Tron was entranced by its magnificence, also refusing to look any which way but up. Tron thought of being in the core of a phoenix itself.


    The stone piece on the wall was carved so thin, it projected a shade of red sunlight upon the altar at exactly the right hour. The intended hour was upon them. This ancient temple was not only a meeting place for worship and faith, but a living mechanism.


    The molding of the six archways leading into the temple came together in three separate borders down the spine of the ceiling. Each one bent up towards the altar. The thin layers of the temple ceiling tangled together creating a spectrum effect. The sun slowly moved into place in the far reaches of the sky as the moment soon approached. Tron watched the spotlight of sunrays crawl up the counter on the altar.


    The priest returned from the back with an elegant glass jar containing oil, and a dark yellow candle in his hands. He gave them to the Head Priest one at a time.


    ¡°¡­The Sun King returned through his portal and flew down to the ancient gate. The grey wolf blew the clouds apart with his lightening and Lord Alphatross funneled his flame through the thunderbolt into the hero, Patronalus¡¯ sword. And the world was saved and pulled back from the edges of darkness. And so it is and ever shall be...¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s head perked up.


    ¡°..We praised be, to the Sunbird¡± echoes the audience.


    They were talking about the Crucifire Sword.


    The Head Priest aligned the candle with the path of the sun¡¯s rays. He spread the oil over his hands, and on the red cloth underneath the candle and jar, in precise motions. The pinnacle of the mass was finally at hand as the sun¡¯s path came into a finely ridged tinted crystal concentrating it into an explosive line of light. The beam hit the oil as the Head Priest threw it up from his hand, simultaneously he pulled the cloth out from underneath the candle as it all quickly ignited and disintegrated into small flames.


    The Priest snapped the cloth in the air and clapped his hands together; and the embers flew into place. The small flames and ashes mixed together to produce the outlining of the same Phoenix carved into the wall behind the altar. The Priest blew it up as it floated into the stone sculpture of the Phoenix, almost an identical match. Everyone¡¯s vision panned back down to see the candle sitting in the middle of the altar silently lit.


    The service now started its concluding portion. Everyone was handed a candle. The Head Priest brought his candle to the other priest and lit one in his hands. Then the two stepped down to the two sides of the benches. Each person¡¯s candle was lit and in turn they lit the candles next to them until the entire temple was illuminated with candlelight. The marvelous stone came to life in stunning new shades and tones. The details of the murals were now alive to tell an ever expanding story. The priest returned to the head of the temple.


    ¡°We have a daughter of the Phoenix with us today who has finally returned home. Please stand Eberlyn.¡±


    Euphrati blushed and slowly got up.


    ¡°Hail Eberlyn, daughter of Atari, Scion of the Phoenix Kingdom.¡±


    Anilithion leaned over to Mitakahn and asked, ¡°What is a scion?¡±


    Excelsior cut in and answered, ¡°It is a direct descendant of the chosen children of the sun. Euphrati is one of the last of her kin. There are only a few others in her generation, and her generation is the last among the Phoenix Kingdom.¡±


    ¡°The days of the old kingdoms are coming to an end,¡± Bridger added, ¡°They are leaving this realm.¡±


    Euphrati was brought up to the altar. She is blessed with oil on her forehead by the Head Priest. She kneeled before the High Priest and the altar in prayer. The Head Priest reached for her hand and pulled her up.


    ¡°It is time for you to see it.¡±


    ¡°See what?¡±


    ¡°The Flame Eterna.¡±


    Mitakahn¡¯s group was escorted behind Euphrati as they walked through the temple.


    ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken,¡± said Excelsior, as he went on with his vast foreign kingdom knowledge, ¡°In order for someone to see the Flame Eterna you must pass five trials: intelligence, strength, fortitude, awareness, and¡­what¡¯s the last one¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s faith,¡± one of the priests said, ¡°Faith is the final test in the Keymaster Trials, and they start now.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for-¡± But before Mitakahn could finish expressing his reserve the floor opened and they fell into a dark abyss.

 Chapter 68: Of a Different Sort

    CHAPTER 68 ¨C OF A DIFFERENT SORT


    It was strange for Zora to be this far north. She didn¡¯t feel comfortable along the northern reaches of the road where she met Mitakahn, and this port city was no better. She tried not to look around. Too many horrible sights around her. She was no soldier. Zora came from a family of cavern dwellers, forgesmith by trade. Yes, she did join the dragon rider core in an attempt to get outside of her family¡¯s shadow, but never did she intend on such extensive destruction. As Fathom¡¯s broodmother, she wanted him to spend time in the clouds and see greater MagnaThora. As all members of the dark kingdom know though, if there is anything that the cascade has taught them, it¡¯s that there is always a cost, usually in flesh and sacrifice, a dragon rider rides with the armies, and in the military it is kill or be killed. Sometimes they fought the monsters, and, with deep regret, sometimes they were the monsters.


    Zora was still early enough in her career to have not done anything particularly reprehensible yet. But as she continued to figure out just how far deep in she was, Zora began to realize her time was running out. She tried her best to keep to herself and stay out of the dark lord¡¯s way. Zora could only keep that up for so long. She knew as soon as Fathom awoke, certain things would be expected of them. Zora had an inkling of what those orders would be, but she would wait until she heard it directly before even grappling with the challenges that lay in store.


    The dragon rider was given a room in Seaport Village, mostly because that¡¯s where Fathom decided to crash. The accommodations were fair. The bed was far softer than anything she ever slept on. It was quite relaxing, and given her current situation, just the reprieve she needed from all the trouble surrounding her. Zora stepped outside to check on Fathom. He was still fast asleep, exactly where she left him. It had been days now, and he showed no signs of waking up.


    Zora got close to Fathom¡¯s head and rubbed his leathery chin. One of her favorite pastimes. The creature was a consistent source of heat for her, which she desperately craved at all times. She ran her fingers up the black scales and across his mouth. Zora wedged her fingers into the dragon¡¯s massive mouth and gently pinched his tongue. It was still wet. That was a good sign. Zora let go of his tongue and palmed the dragon¡¯s cheek. She could feel slight vibrations reverberating up and back down in the beast¡¯s chest. She followed the breaths down and saw the vibrations awaken glowing red lines in the cracks between Fathom¡¯s black scales.


    When she turned around after inspecting her dragon¡¯s slumber, she saw the Emissary waiting for her. A chill shot down Zora¡¯s spine, not a good sign. There was something repulsive about this particular member of the dark lord¡¯s council. She much rather preferred the company of Commander Zorrowfold or even Spangalore for that matter. Anyone would be preferable compared to the Emissary who had damned features and a flamboyant savage resolve.


    ¡°The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you, dragon rider.¡±


    Zora nodded. ¡°Lead the way,¡± she said.


    The Emissary turned around, brandishing a satisfied look on his face as he led her to the lobby plaza of Vestige Tower. The Dark Lord Malinor and Admiral Zorrowfold were coordinating all the moving parts of the invasion from this camp; Zorrowfold¡¯s acolyte riders were on route to the Serengeti. They let the infantile cravens rampage through what¡¯s left of the city. The army formed up beyond the stables, almost at the city limits, as it gathered for the siege on Zepathorum. The behemoths and mongrels harnessed and shackled into position within the ranks of the standing army.


    Zora walked through the city with the Emissary and the violent sights took a toll on her, by the time they reached the tower she practically had her eyes closed. Now she was before the Dark Lord and the Admiral, with the Emissary lurking in the background. She knew what would come next. Once the Dark Lord noticed she was in the room with them he addressed her.


    ¡°Zora of Morticomb Caverns, I have summoned you today to promote you to my high council and name you sky marshal of my fleet.¡±


    Zora dropped to one knee before the Dark Lord. ¡°Nothing would honor me more, my lord.¡± She crossed her right arm over her chest and then pulled it away swooping down. Malinor wiggled his wrist free of his sleeve to reveal a black gold ring around the middle finger of his gloved hand. Zora was meant to kiss it. She lurched her head forward, closed her eyes and kissed it. The black was siphoned out of the now pure gold ring and into Zora¡¯s lips. They glowed black for a second before fading back into her natural pink colored lips. She had no idea what just happened. All she knew at the moment was that she didn¡¯t like it. That feeling was foreign and immediately evasive. She even struggled to remember it. Remember what? She was tired, even after all that rest. It was easy to doubt oneself when seeing at least one reality altering thing per day. The allegiance she just swore to the Dark Lord was no mere words. That shadow that infected her lips bound them by more than just oath. If Zora acted against the words she spoke the ring¡¯s shadow would activate immediately, swarming her system, if it hasn¡¯t already.¡±


    ¡°This invasion will be the largest battle in MagnaThoran history. I took certain measures to ensure our victory over the north. Due to unforeseen developments, we may now need even more reinforcements than I had arranged for.¡±


    Zora wasted no time and cut to the chase. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°You want me to fly south and bring forth the horde.¡±


    Zorrowfold and the Emissary both regarded Zora briefly before hearing Malinor¡¯s laughter.


    ¡°No, dear daughter of darkness, I would not ask you to once again fly south.¡±


    Zora felt relieved. Maybe for a couple moments she lived in that naivety, before the brash realization set in of her mission being far more worse than another long trip.


    ¡°What would you have of me, my lord?¡±


    ¡°You say your family comes from the caverns, but you speak like a noble.¡±


    ¡°I speak like a comber¡­from my age.¡±


    ¡°So, you freely admit it now.¡±


    Zorrowfold and the Emissary looked confused, exchanging glances between the four of them.


    ¡°What does the dark lord speak of, dragon rider?¡± asked the Emissary.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been sent to the future from my time.¡± Zora sighed.


    There were plenty of questions, but this was Malinor¡¯s court, so he continued.


    ¡°I¡¯m asking you, Sky Marshal, to lead my finest dragon riders on a quest to reclaim a cosmic force.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I know what force you are referring to, my lord.¡±


    ¡°MagnaThora was not always the paradise that it is today. In the first age the world was ruled by fire. The phenom gods used their power to create dragons that could eat the fire. When the fires went out, the dragons ate animals and humans instead. So, the gods imbued them with magic and sent them into the stars.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a beautiful legend, my lord.¡±


    ¡°What does it have to do with us, exalted one?¡± asked the Emissary.


    ¡°Sky Marshal Zora, you are tasked with finding and bringing home the ancient star-dragons.¡±


    Zora was flabbergasted. So many questions ran through her head. It was hard for her to keep her concentration and pick just one response. The choice was obvious. Everything else paled in importance.


    Zora asked, ¡°How will you imbue me with the power?¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be nectopyre vapor, I can assure you of that,¡± Malinor smirked, ¡°Admiral Zorrowfold make sure siege preparations proceed without delay, even if that means marching up to the gates of Zepathorum without me.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my lord.¡± Admiral Zorrowfold bowed.


    Malinor walked away before stopping briefly, turning around, and gesturing Zora to follow him. Together they walked back towards Seaport Village. The Dark Lord was bringing her back to Fathom. Zora kept pace slightly behind the Dark Lord. She looked back, only the Emissary followed them. Zora felt a chill ping off the top of her spine by the neck. There was something truly despicable about him that Zora could not put her finger on but felt strongly about all the same.


    Malinor rubbed his hands as he approached Fathom, still sleeping on the ground.


    ¡°Excuse me, my lord,¡± said the Emissary, ¡°would you grant me the honor of awakening the beast?¡±


    ¡°Be quick with it.¡±


    ¡°You have my gratitude, exalted one.¡±


    The Emissary brandished the same staff that Malinor had used to quell the fires, from where? Zora did not know. He touched the top tip of it to the glowing gem strapped to his chest and they became the same white fire color, the churning cosmic flame seemed to spread over to the staff. The Emissary took the lit staff and began waving it in a synchronistic fashion. The clouds were being manipulated. From this far away, Zora could make out little, but the atmosphere was changing, fluctuating chaotically between dry and humid, hot and cold.


    Something was happening above. It looked like a tunnel was formed through the clouds above, then a loud crack and another, followed by two bolts of lightning ricocheting off the clouds. As the lightning blasted, Fathom¡¯s eyes snapped awake. Zora could see reflections of the lightning bolts in her dragon¡¯s eyes. He was awake and refreshed. Zora understood the implications.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Into the Burning Mountains.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°To kill a god.¡±

 Chapter 69: The Crimson Machine

    CHAPTER 69 ¨C THE CRIMSON MACHINE


    Axion walked side by side with Huntross across the hollow streets of the city, and up the courtyard circle before the Citadel¡¯s front doors; a small moment between the city and its future king, before the surrounding disaster collapsed in. It was hard enough losing Port Caliber. Now he had to act like the loss wasn¡¯t still there, still raw. The burnt ashes of the port city dancing in the wind over Zepathorum.


    The Citadel was built not only high in the sky, but also deep into the ground. The basement, equipped with a stadium of shelters and escape tunnels, was always considered to be the last line of defense before annihilation. When the time would come, when the last small town had felt the hammer-stroke of the shadowy death, this basement would be the only thing left standing between the survivors of the lion kingdom race and extinction.


    But for now, while the enemy was distracted, everyone was preparing, most of all Ady¨¢na. At the front doors of the Citadel Ady¨¢na was ushering a constant mass of people into the tower. Commander Cel¡¯a and her royal guard were systematically evacuating the different suburban neighborhoods that made up Zepathorum. Together with the Queen, they had set up a direct line down Crimson Boulevard from the gates to the front doors of the Citadel, funneling the city folk and all of the refugees into the stronghold. Ady¨¢na greeted all of her subjects warm-heartedly, when Axion met her on the stairs.


    ¡°We cannot hold the gate much longer,¡± he said


    ¡°I need you to go to the top of the Citadel.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°There is a switch inside the throne room, it lowers the balconies on the bedchambers floor down to the throne room floor¡­I need you to be my eyes. Take a few guards, keep updating me.¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t a guard do it? I was going to the gates.¡±


    ¡°Axion, a guard does not operate the throne¡­¡±


    Axion looked at his mother and knew exactly what her next words were, her thoughts completed. His emotions took a hold of him, he would have to face his demons, and go back to the Throne Room. His mother seemed to have bounced completely back from her depression. If only he could do the same¡­


    But when Axion took a closer look at her face while she awaited his response, he found that although she was directing and leading people heroically, there were still scarce tears dripping unwillingly down her cheeks. He knew right then and there that her courage was only temporary, and she had risen to the challenge. If they ever did escape this extermination, she would fall back into her dark nest, wallowing away the scars on her soul.


    For now, like a true queen, she inspired hope and gave aid to her people directly; unselfishly. He respected the inherent bravery of his mother, and finally gave way to her will. Axion¡¯s reasoning for reluctance was still intact, it was too near to his father¡¯s death, and the fear of becoming king haunted his every step. How could he put his country before him with such a burden in the way? He conceded and put his own insecurities on hold, Axion nodded to his mother.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I will go,¡± he agreed while he pulled a torch off the wall, ¡°but I will use flares not guards, send them to the gates in my stead.¡±


    He brought Huntross into the Citadel right after he said finally, ¡°One when they start an organized approach for the city, two when the gates must be closed, and three when I see Anilithy¨¬stad return.¡±


    Another idea jumped out of Axion¡¯s thoughts while he was describing his warnings. He continued into the grand hall of the Citadel and ordered one of the head servants to combine the guards and servants and send the boats across the lake for the retreat of the Serengeti Rescue. They were to send only a few pilots across the lake with the boats and attach the other boats however they could.


    ¡°I want to be able to see the boats leaving the piers when I get up to the Throne room,¡± finished Axion as he kicked Huntross and rode him up the stairs.


    The spiraling staircase was wide and long sloping along the side that ran up the wall of the citadel, a perfect run for a horse. In times of war, the kings and generals would often ride their horses and lions up and down the Citadel as, by far, the quickest means of getting back and forth. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    It was still a wonder to Axion why he immediately thought to do that. Maybe it was his oldest memories of watching his father ride Raja up and down the staircase with him and Mitakahn, or maybe it was an ancient gene of the bloodline making it an instinctual decision in his head.


    Whatever the case may be, Axion was already at the top of the Citadel, standing at the entrance of the Throne Room. He got off of Huntross and left him near the stairs. The Citadel tower was empty. Everyone had reported to the grand hall and basement. The room was dark, and only lit by the torch Axion was still holding. He took a deep breath and walked into the room with his eyes closed.


    There was no grand gesture, no bolt of lightning or hungry earthquake. He reopened his eyes and lit all of the torches on the columns and walls. Axion looked around for the switch when the room was fully lit. The golden strips on the walls and patches of mirrors on the ceiling focused and lit the room to almost sun-like quality. He could easily see every corner of the room. And there was no switch, no sign of what his mother was talking about.


    Axion only had to think about it for a split moment before he figured out where it was. He walked over to the middle of the room, facing the throne. He examined it carefully, fearing the possibility of having to be in the golden chair to see the switch. Axion¡¯s reasonable side outweighed his emotional side and was forced to act on his conclusion. He walked up the steep three steps, turned himself around, and apprehensively lowered himself down.


    Axion sat on the Throne of the Lion Kingdom. He grasped the armrests with his fingers and felt two sensitive levers underneath his left fingers. He flicked the switch closest to him with his index finger and heard a crumble and shift above him in the stone. The ceiling rotated, and the loud clanking of a chain activated, lowering the stone systematically.


    The walls trembled as the sequence completed. The balcony walls swung down in a slow spiral from the bedchambers floor upstairs and clicked into their crystal-lined places. The doors had been pulled back and the ceilings partially receded. Axion almost had a three-hundred and sixty degree view of his kingdom from sitting on the Throne. He peered out from the throne across the entire Serengeti, the cascading fields running towards a distant sun and reeled his vision back to the Lake Niobi. In the lake¡¯s reflection he saw the citadel in its new form. Axion marveled at the revolutionary engineering of his ancestors.


    Legend of Jacob and the Ark


    Long Ago, the Serengeti was full of lakes and cascading green ridges breaking the gaps and supple valleys from the Burning Mountains to the Equitor River. Every time there was a storm the lakes flooded the valleys, only the ridges remained islands amongst the intrepid blue. On the last cluster of hills before the northern bay of the Barren Sea, descendants of Arkham Lion Blessed built a mill. The Flood Mill they called it, positioned on the ridge in such a way that in dry times it was used as a windmill and in hightide monsoons it doubled as a watermill.


    Jacob inherited his father¡¯s creativity at an early age, for good reason, having to last Jacob the better side of a lifetime after losing him early on. Jacob and his family were the heirs of Arkham, the man who carried the Ignaleos Cor for Magnanimous. Jacob¡¯s oldest brother Jaxion decided to take their family away from the crazy mill. All but Jacob left it behind, joining the rest of the people gathering in the ¡°Summerland¡± or as they referred to it in their native tongue, the Serengeti. With every storm more and more people migrated across the Serengeti swelling their numbers. Jacob was one of the few people to notice these things, along with the rising tides.


    For years Jacob grew up in Castle FloodMill alone, ever working on it, reshaping it, shifting its design while the world aged around him. His brothers began garnering respect through the valleys of the Serengeti. Each and every rumor or tale only raised the legend of the missing brother atop the castle. When his brothers asked him what he was building, he merely called it an ¡°ark¡±, named after their ancestor Arkham.


    One day a storm came that almost wiped every man off the face of MagnaThora, reminiscent of the Storm Age. For all of Jacob¡¯s brothers¡¯ daring and heroic feats they could not save the Serengeti people. Jacob released the FloodMill off of the ridge, using the wheel as a rotor. Jacob sailed the ark through the Serengeti. For those lucky enough to stay alive, Jacob was able to save them with his FloodMill ark. In the wild nights of the long storm Jacob saved the majority of the Serengeti people, including most of his brothers; but not Jaxion, leaving Jacob as the oldest in his family.


    When the rain stopped and the floodwaters cleared Jacob departed the ark with his people and found themselves more south than they had ever been, having crossed over the Equitor River. Jacob surveyed his ark, it would never move again¡­come hell or high waters. That was not all. Five men wearing crowns and extravagant cloaks greeted them upon arrival. They were the lords of the local lands. Once it was learned that they hailed from the Serengeti of the North the lords asked them to elect a leader to step forward and represent their tribe. The people were unanimous in choosing Jacob.


    The Five Lords of the inner realm gave Jacob the surname Arkenorth for all his accomplishments. Lastly they honored Jacob with his own symbol for his tribe. The Serengeti might have meant Summerland in their elder tongue, but in the common tongue everyone defined it as Pride lands. The lords of MagnaThora called the people of the ark his pride, and gave him the title Jacob the Lion. After his commencement, Lord Jacob Arkenorth of the Lion Tribe led his people back home north to the Serengeti to start rebuilding, but not before agreeing to return to the Ark in exactly five years.

 Chapter 70: Dungeons and Dragons

    CHAPTER 70 ¨C DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS


    The light quickly pulled away from Euphrati and Mitakahn¡¯s company by the sudden rush of gravity as they plummeted into the cellar of the temple. Soon the room around them enclosed, smoothing out the corners, forming into a pipeline. And just like that, the pipe split into three separate tubes, dividing the group.


    The first cylinder grabbed Euphrati, Mitakahn, Excelsior, and Orion. The second cylinder took Bridger, Kunezar, and Humbler, leaving Tron and Anilithion alone in the third one. Like the threads of a rope the pipes intertwined adjusting their slopes and ran down the spine of the mountain releasing them into the three separate levels: one in the dungeons, one in the caverns, and one in the furnace relay, a jungle of metal deep down at the underbelly of the Phoenix Kingdom¡¯s domain. When the three groups hit their respective floor a large egg cracked at the center of each room.


    Tron looked around the sun-burnt red oozy egg as he helped Anilithion up. They were in an old prison ward. Beneath the Temple of Fire and the kingdom¡¯s catacomb city were three levels. The smallest of which were the old dungeons. Under that were the Mountain¡¯s natural caverns, scattered and connected valleys within the stone. The cavern pipe expelled Kunezar, Bridger, and Humbler. Waiting for them was a swollen purple egg. The last layer of Mount Fire¡¯s cellar was the irrigation network.


    They called it the Furnace. During the golden age of the kingdom¡¯s history, they built the Furnace, a combination of pipelines and structural bases of bottomed out columns and epic archways. All crooked and dysfunctional after the generations of volcanic activity and sunken ruins, it served no purpose in modern times.


    Originally, it was meant as a volcanic canal, but over the years and torment the system failed, leaving Mount Fire susceptible to eruptions. One lone door at the bottom led to the outside. This was the level which laid in store for Mitakahn, Euphrati, Excelsior, and Orion as they finally fell out of the tube and came upon a pale yellow egg.


    The red dragon was already breaking out of its shell when Tron got a handle on the situation. He pulled out his sword getting in between Anilithion, slowly approaching the birthing beast. In its first inhale of air, it spewed out a rotten wave of flames heading straight for Tron. Instinctively, he put his left forearm out. The golden shield he got in Compis Falls unlocked and unfolded into place before the flames could harm him. The blast blew hard onto the shield. But the heat was deflected and only the sheer force behind it affectively pushed Tron.


    Anilithion drew his sword and desperately looked around for a solution. There along the walls were old shackles and chains. He ran over to one, wrapped his sword with a chain and pulled, snapping it off of the wall.


    While Tron distracted the red dragon¡¯s rage, Anilithion snuck up on its back. He climbed onto the dragon, running up its spine, swinging the chains overhead. When he got to the red dragon¡¯s shoulders, Anilithion swung the chains around it but it kicked into the air, throwing him forward. Anilithion cracked his whip around the dragon¡¯s neck, catching the other end of the chain, and harnessing the beast. With a pull on the reigns the dragon¡¯s fiery breath was cut off.


    Tron wiped the sweat off his brow, the shield folded back in, and he made a run for it. The dragon clawed at its neck, trying to peel off the restraints, to no avail. Anilithion had a good grip. Tron tried to get on the beast as well but was tripped by its tail. Then it rose into the air, leaving Tron behind and flying off with Anilithion on its back. He fell forward as it nosedived and loosened his grip.


    Right before it hit the floor it blew its dragon-breath and melted the stone, forming a tunnel. They broke the bedrock and descended into the lower cavern level where Kunezar, Bridger, and Humbler were battling a rumpus dark dragonaut, a grand sub-species of dragon with tiny wings and thick jackets of scaly armor. Their stout figures and widened stomachs gave them powerful fire-breath both in damage and longevity. This one was charcoal dark with a striped, violet hue on its underbelly.


    Tron repelled down the hole in the rock that Anilithion¡¯s dragon made. The drop was far too much for the warrior to survive. When he approached the bottom, he flicked his arm out and the shield snapped open again. This time the golden sheet was wider and thinner as it protracted over his head, connecting to his other arm, allowing him to glide down onto the cavern floor unharmed.


    Tron looked over at Humbler distracting the dragonaut while Bridger tried to stir Kunezar awake. Tron ran over to them and asked, ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°He hit his head when we came out of the pipe,¡± explained Bridger.


    Anilithion pulled down on the whips in his left hand and led the red dragon into the dragonaut¡¯s blindside. When they collided, the wild rumpus dragonaut swung his claw at Anilithion. He was knocked off the red dragon and took the chains with him.


    The same time Anilithion hit the floor, Tron poured the rest of his canteen on Kunezar¡¯s face and woke him up. They both rose back to their feet and the five warriors readied themselves in their war stance. The two dragons pushed off each other and scrambled for them. Anilithion whipped the chains to keep them away. Humbler waved his hammer. Bridger shot an arrow into the red dragon¡¯s hip. Tron re-buckled his shield and got in front of the red dragon¡¯s counter strike to the arrow, once again absorbing its rage.


    The dragonaut relied on the dark charcoal armor covering it from head to toe. Bridger¡¯s arrows could not affect it. Humbler¡¯s hammer shook it up but did not harm it. They had to figure out what to do, and quick. Kunezar was still in a daze, and Tron could not hold off the red dragon forever. The dark dragonaut jumped to all fours and charged at them. Bridger and Anilithion jumped one way as Humbler and Kunezar desperately sprang for the other way. The dragon ran by, turned around, and was already coming in for another charge. Humbler got up to one knee, and swung his hammer low, tripping the dragon to the floor. Humbler was caught in its crash.


    They all jumped on top of it, trying to hold the wild beast down. Anilithion tucked his whip away and threw the chain over to Bridger while Anilithion leaned down heavily onto the creature¡¯s shoulder. Bridger caught the chain and ran up to the head. The rest covered the dragon¡¯s arms and legs, as Bridger wrapped the chain around its long snout of razor sharp fangs.


    Still one on one with the red dragon, Tron, continuously backpedaling, stumbled back and tripped over a random stone. The shield accidentally clicked and collapsed into a forearm-guard. The red dragon saw an opportunity while it was catching its breath and attacked. The fire came tumbling back. Tron rolled his body out of the way. He was free for one brief moment before the dragon redirected its stream, chasing Tron around the wide cavern room. When the red dragon got a chance to look around he saw its brother subdued by the men and chains. He instantly flew over to them. Tron chased after it and re-opened his shield.


    When the red dragon landed, Tron rammed into its side with his shield. It was enough of a jolt to knock it over. The red dragon fell onto Humbler, Kunezar, and Anilithion pinning them between the two dragons. Tron ran for the red dragon¡¯s head, but when it shifted its weight he slipped and fell into the charcoal dragonaut¡¯s rising fury. While Humbler, Kunezar, and Anilithion tried to get out of the way, Tron attempted to pry off one of the dragon¡¯s pieces of armor, and Bridger kept his hold on the muzzled head. But the chain unraveled with the dragonaut¡¯s rampaging behavior. Both dragons got to their feet and launched into the air, dragging Bridger away.


    Humbler threw his hammer up and it slammed the dragonaut, who was flying low to the ground. It fell back down to the floor. When the chain completely came loose, Bridger slipped free in the air. Before he hit the floor he lassoed the red dragon¡¯s foot and caught a ride on the skyline. He quickly climbed up the chain, and onto the dragon¡¯s leg. He pulled out two arrows and used them to puncture and climb up the dragon¡¯s hide. The red dragon did not have armor as heavy as the dragonaut. Arrowheads could pierce its scaly skin. As he made his way to the beast¡¯s chest, it flew crazily through the air, twisting and clenching its wounds with every thrust of the arrow.


    The red dragon flew over the rest of the company. Tron yelled to Humber, ¡°Your hammer!¡±


    Humbler threw it to him, and Tron used the spike on the hammer¡¯s back to pry the dragonaut¡¯s chest scales up. He unsheathed his sword and shoved it in between the spike and its flesh, plunging the tip of the blade in through right to its heart. The dragon screamed and the fire ceased to cover its exhale. There was no exhale and there would never be another inhale. The dark rumpus beast fell limp, the dragonaut was dead.


    When Tron pulled out his sword, a chained talisman came with it. Tron wiped off the dragon¡¯s innards and took a quick look at it. There was what appeared to be a picture of the mount on it. But there was no time to consider what that meant. He slipped it into his pocket and rejoined the fight against the red dragon. Bridger was still on it, flying through the air.


    He finally swung around to the dragon¡¯s long neck. Leaving one of the arrows behind, he pulled out his sword, preparing to slit the beast¡¯s neck. But the wild dragon took a wicked roll, and Bridger lost his grip, falling off. He fell with no hope of being saved. He didn¡¯t just hit the ground, Bridger was like a feather on the wind. He absorbed as much of the force as he could with his legs and then tucked his head into his body and rolled over, evenly dispersing the remaining force of the impact. He refocused the force and jumped back to his feet, uninjured. Tron looked twice at his nimble friend in action. The red dragon turned around. He was coming back around for another blast of his breath.


    Bridger was fed up with this evasive beast. He loaded two arrows, pulled them back, and stared into the dragon¡¯s eyes, leaning into his shot, favoring one side of the bow, and lining them up with the arrows in the process. It charged head-on at the group. Bridger held his breath and his stance. He released the arrows while simultaneously exhaling. Upon impact, the arrows cored the dragon¡¯s eyes out and it crashed to the ground. Anilithion grappled the dragon¡¯s wailing wing with his whip. Kunezar and Anilithion jumped the ensnared dragon, pinned it down, and stuck their swords through its arms. Tron came from behind the fallen beast. Its tail whipped around and knocked Tron back as he tried to approach. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Bridger pulled out his sword. And right before the dragon freed itself from their grip Bridger slit its throat. All of the dragon¡¯s blood poured out of the cut. From within the flow another talisman hit the ground. Bridger picked it up and wiped it off. There was a bright amber flame on it.


    A blurry return greeted Mitakahn after getting knocked out. He came to inside a dewy room, small and compact with levers and boxes scattered everywhere. Euphrati knelt down by his side, wiping his brow with a wet rag. Mitakahn tried to focus. He rose to his elbows and peaked over her shoulder. Behind them was another room, much larger by the look of it. Inside he could see Excelsior and Orion battling back and forth with a pale white dragon. Mitakahn forced himself to his feet whether he had enough energy or not. The floor shook. But he ran down the fumbling room to his friends¡¯ aid.


    Euphrati followed him, ¡°Mitakahn¡­are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he insisted as they met the doorway to the quaint coliseum.


    There was no need to ask what happened. He already knew. At the last turn of the vertical pipe Mitakahn lost his balance. The wound on his shoulder from where he was shot with an arrow panged silently. He used the throbbing to hone his focus.


    Mitakahn got to the giant white dragon blowing glowing fire around Excelsior and Orion. He felt unsteady, catching himself on the wall. Euphrati braced him, making sure he didn¡¯t fall. Mitakahn shook his head, unsheathed his sword, the silver gauntlet clicking into place around his left hand, and jumped down into the room. Euphrati regarded the gauntlet.


    Mitakahn looked at her. ¡°Long story.¡±


    He charged and she made sure she remained behind him.


    Mitakahn took a good look around the new room. It was round, and he had enough time to spare while the dragon¡¯s back was to them. It seemed out of place, a ceremonial room inside of the Furnace¡­


    There were plaques and ancient weapons decorating the gliding wall. Spears and swords, axes, and shields, they had their pick of numerous options.


    ¡°Grab a weapon,¡± he told Euphrati as he lifted a shield.


    Euphrati pulled a long spear off of the wall.


    Orion had dodged out of the dragon¡¯s way, avoiding his wrath. Excelsior, on the other hand, was cornered. Mitakahn rushed over. Just before the stream of fire landed on Excelsior, Mitakahn jumped in the way with the shield. They both ran out of the corner and rejoined Orion and Euphrati while the dragon caught its breath.


    Mitakahn¡¯s shield burned. The heat caught his strapped hand forcing him to drop it. The pale white dragon opened its wings and climbed into the air. They got nervous. He was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared into the labyrinth of pipes.


    ¡°Now¡¯s our chance!¡± exclaimed Excelsior.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want to run from it, we want to defeat it,¡± argued Mitakahn.


    ¡°This¡­ is the first trial?¡± figured Euphrati out loud.


    ¡°Yes, but we can find a place where we can pin it down,¡± explained Excelsior, ¡°making this much easier.¡±


    Mitakahn nodded his head and went with Excelsior. The wanderer sent Orion, his scout, up ahead, ¡°Find us a way,¡± he said to the pup.


    Orion ran forward and sniffed out a path. He turned back and barked once. They caught up with him and entered down a small pipe which led to a door. The door pulsed. The wood swelled out towards them.


    ¡°Are you sure this is it, Ore?¡± asked Mitakahn as he scratched Orion¡¯s forehead.


    Excelsior put his open-palmed hand before the door. He examined the doorknob. ¡°There is a tremendous amount of heat behind here,¡± he said, ¡°Get ready.¡± Excelsior put his back against the wall and slid down while he wrapped his hand with a cloth. Orion got next to him, and on the other side Mitakahn and Euphrati jumped close to the wall. Excelsior turned the knob with his covered hand and pushed the door open.


    With little effort, the door blew back, and a wave of heat flooded all around them. The air was so hot Mitakahn felt like his face was burning off. Excelsior had covered his own face with his cloak and ducked into the next room. Euphrati had a look of terror on her face, she was almost sure Excelsior was dead.


    ¡°We must go back!¡± she yelled over the boiling atmosphere. But just when she turned around to head back and get away from the heat, the pale white dragon landed, blocking her path. Euphrati screamed. Orion and Mitakahn ran over to her, Orion tackled the dragon while Mitakahn grabbed Euphrati¡¯s arm and rushed her away from the heat. He sheathed his sword and put the same cloth as before over his nose and mouth. The gauntlet remained on around his left hand.


    ¡°Cover your face!¡± he yelled through the clothe, as they charged the blast boiling the room Excelsior was hiding in.


    The steam within the room made it very hard to see. It was so thick both Mitakahn and Euphrati were trying to keep themselves from falling into a coughing fit. The metal latches and pipe caps were leaking steam everywhere. Mitakahn guided Euphrati with him, still holding onto her arm, being very careful to avoid the tiny geysers of burning hot steam. Excelsior was gone, but not dead.


    Mitakahn needed the steam to clear in order to yell for him. But right now, he was still gasping for clear air. The density was both weighing and slowing everything down. Mitakahn and Euphrati were getting tired, when they had only taken a few steps from the door. This room was draining them. Just then Orion rushed by them. Mitakahn turned around. The dragon tore into the wall surrounding the door.


    The pale white dragon was getting stronger from all the heat surrounding it; natural fuel for the infernal beast. It clawed at the holes in the wall and made more room for itself. In no time it would be upon them. Mitakahn could no longer see Orion either. He was suffocating in the fog. But he kept on walking. For Euphrati, for Axion, for his kingdom, he must walk on.


    He heard a bark up ahead. Orion was still alive. Perhaps he found his master. Mitakahn looked back again, the dragon was working his way through, already halfway, he was pulling his legs the rest of the way. This was it. Mitakahn had to do something.


    He pushed Euphrati forward and told her to run. He turned around and faced the dragon, now free to attack. The same time the sword released from its sheath the steam released from the room. Some vent had cleared the swelteringly dense heat.


    Mitakahn followed the current with his hampered sight and could see light from outside. He took a deep breath and his head cleared, as well as his vision. He could see Excelsior standing by a door to the outside along with Orion and Euphrati. Unfortunately, the reflux of clean air had allowed the dragon room in its lungs to reignite his breath. Mitakahn had little time to run before a red hot stream of fire consumed him.


    Excelsior picked up a spare part of the tube off of the floor and ran for Mitakahn. When their paths met Excelsior caught the dragon¡¯s fiery breath in the tube, redirecting the flames right back at it. It did not harm the pale white dragon but bought the two warriors enough time to get outside. Mitakahn ran out of the door and found himself at what seemed to be the bottom of the Burning Mountains.


    Impossible, he thought, they had not fallen that far. Maybe he would be able to investigate later. For now, the dragon was slamming against the doorway opening. It could only fit its head through and was trying to squeeze its arms out to start peeling the wall back to get by.


    ¡°Looks like your plan worked, Excelsior,¡± admitted Mitakahn, ¡°Want to do the honor?¡±


    ¡°The honor is all yours, my friend,¡± bowed Excelsior.


    Mitakahn got closer to the distracted dragon, holding his sword tight. With the blade angled down, he brought his hands high above his head, preparing for a kill stroke. After a short pause, Mitakahn gently lowered his sword and did not strike.


    He turned to his company and said, ¡°I think Euphrati should do it.¡±


    Excelsior agreed with him. Euphrati stepped forward and Mitakahn handed her his sword.


    She took his place beside the trapped dragon, repeated Mitakahn¡¯s stance; her arms raised high in the air. Euphrati looked deep into the deadly dragon¡¯s vulnerable eye and did not hesitate. With one last scream of fire, Euphrati came down hard with her stroke, thrusting Mitakahn¡¯s sword into the skull of the dragon. Right between the eyes the blade carved into the beast¡¯s brain. Its scream quickly gurgled, and the beast fell limp. When Euphrati pulled out the sword there was something wrapped around it.


    A chain, connected to a talisman. The talisman had an icon of a phoenix on it. The same picture they saw at the head of the cathedral. Euphrati brought it over to Mitakahn and Excelsior to have a look.


    They all examined the mysterious amulet. Suddenly, the dead dragon stirred from its resting place. Mitakahn panicked as Excelsior and Orion immediately sprang into action. But after a progression of unnatural movements made clear to be unthreatening tones from behind the broken door Orion¡¯s ears lifted back up.


    It was the rest of the company trying to get out of the inner bowels of the mount.


    Tron, Anilithion, Bridger, Kunezar, and Humbler, all together, lifted the body up and out of the battered doorway. With one last heave, they threw it away, and the carcass rolled down the path. The dead white dragon glowed into pure light and evaporated into the sky.


    Behind it there was a grand Observatory in the distance, from this far away it looked like one lone monument. There was only one way to go now, and that was towards the tower.


    As they walked down the path, once in a while coming upon a ledge which led them further down the mountain range, Mitakahn found that they were, in fact, not at the bottom of the Burning Mountains, but somewhere in the middle. Any way they looked, the entire plot of land was blocked by steep rock-face. So, the company continued down the path and calibrated their talismans together for clues.


    On each pendant were constellations of holes too tiny to raise suspicion but too disguised to be insignificant. Upon Tron and Anilithion¡¯s talisman of the Mount there was some strange algorithm of sequential holes tattooing the tablet. Bridger¡¯s talisman of the Flame Eterna only had two symmetrical holes in it. Euphrati¡¯s talisman of the phoenix however had eleven punctured stars outlining the coin¡¯s curve in a rainbow.


    ¡°Not sure I know what it all means,¡± said Humbler, as everyone else thought it to themselves.


    Right now, it did not matter, for there was nothing down here in the great labyrinth valley of the Burning Mountains, frozen wildfire caves and sharpened razor cliffs. And so there was only one way to go¡­ down ramps of sloping platforms until they reached a ridge of stone, spanning down and around to a tower in the distance.

 Chapter 71: Earthly Conduits

    CHAPTER 71 ¨C EARTHLY CONDUITS


    Zora didn¡¯t know how long she could keep up the guise of a faithful servant. After seeing the horror, they brought upon Port Caliber she was ready to defect and continue her original mission south. Part of Zora needed to see for herself. She had enough of listening to men tell her things were different. Sure, the evidence was blatant and abundant, but sometimes you just need to see for yourself. The only problem was, if Zora left now, would the dark lord be able to prevent her from getting to Morticomb Caverns?


    She had seen enough of MagnaThora to last her a lifetime, maybe even two. Zora needed physical confirmation that her home and family were gone, until then she could not fully commit to anything else, no matter what these men told her. Unfortunately for her, at the moment she had no way to leave. Her along with Fathom, the Emissary, and the dark lord Malinor were under the Burning Mountains, trapped in a cave surrounded by massive stalactites and stalagmites, pinning them in. Before laid a great hibernating beast.


    To the dark lord¡¯s credit, Zora was continuously impressed with his method of travel to the subterranean levels of the Burning Mountain. Malinor seemed to have vast knowledge of the magic in MagnaThora. He pulled on many different sources, not just the dark arts. Zora couldn¡¯t help but also notice that the Emissary also delved in the combined mystical arts of MagnaThora. The only thing she couldn¡¯t really figure out was which of them was apprentice to the other. Had Malinor surpassed his training with the Emissary or was the foul man recruited by the Dark Lord and merely mirrors his magical mastery? Either way Malinor clearly surpassed everyone in power and prowess.


    He even used the Emissary¡¯s chest gem against his own will, or at least that¡¯s what it looked like when they were back at Caliber. Malinor placed his hand on Fathom¡¯s chest and it inside the creature¡¯s heart glowed red. From the outside it had looked like a red crystal emanating light. With his other hand, the Dark Lord Malinor pulled the light from the Emissary¡¯s gem. By connecting the two channels of energy, he shot a red line through the earth and used the yellow light from the Emissary¡¯s gem to open a portal. On the other side of the portal was a familiar sight Malinor had encountered a long time ago.


    Zora was equally in awe of where Malinor had brought them. Never before had she ever thought in her lifetime that she might be in the presence of the founder god. The demigod that her entire kingdom was named after. The beast that lay before them was at least five times the size of Fathom, with many similar but varying characteristics. One of the biggest similarities had to be the embolden horizontal lining of their scales going over their bellies.


    The minute details were all on point. Fathom had the same scales, the same horn textures, the same flame coloring, everything of Fathom was a clear derivate of the ancient primordial beast. Then it opened its eyes. The splendor made all the words swimming about in their heads vanish with great haste. The dragon god regarded them immediately and began to stand. The movements sent shivers and cracks through the floor and roof of the cave. Dust fell from the cracks in the roofs. As soon as the cracks were created they just as quickly seemed to heal themselves.


    The dragon god¡¯s eyes were truly something to behold. It looked like hundreds of perfect gold bars spread around in a radial formation, with black vertical slits going up and down the middle. Two silhouettes of the pure darkness surrounded by resplendent brilliance. It almost spoke to them, simultaneously putting the intruders at ease while also igniting their senses. It would take a couple minutes for them all to regain their wits. Fathom moved first, getting close, sniffing first like any MagnaThoran animal, and then wrapping himself around the god, like any brood would their parent.


    That¡¯s what snapped Zora out of it. Anything her Fathom liked that much was okay by Zora. She accepted the dragon god and bowed down to one knee. The Emissary saw her and laughed. He took a dagger out of a satchel bag with a clear gem on its cross-guard and handed it to Malinor.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Zora said.


    They did not.


    The dragon god leaned back. Its eyes flared betrayal and unleashed an unyielding inferno upon them. Fathom skirted Zora out of the way just in time, they almost hid under the great dragon as it spewed its great flame. The dark lord¡¯s armor twitched all over his body as he began to cook in it. It almost looked alive. The Emissary twisted the gem harnessed on his chest and screamed in pain. He kept twisting until the gem rotated one half rotation. The gem clicked into place and changed colors from yellow to white-blue. The same shine covered the Emissary¡¯s body. He grabbed the dark lord¡¯s cloak and the shine transferred onto his roasting body, shielding him from the fires just before he succumbed to them. The dragon god would not stop until they were ash. Malinor worried if its power was endless, infinite; a greedy smirk splashed across his dirty sweaty face.


    They were no longer burning, but the sheer force of the fireblast was keeping the dark lord and the Emissary from getting any closer. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°All that you have taken in my name. All that I have given you. You break the compact. You are despicable to the bitter end human. I will see your bones in a pile.¡±


    The fire changed colors to a wavering orange and knocked them off their feet. Fathom looked back at Zora. She had never seen this expression before in her dragon¡¯s face. She tried to make sense out of it. Fathom looked¡­worried. She met his eyes and nodded her head firmly. He wisped around and got under her and picked her up, they were in flight-ready position.


    The orange flames danced around the Dark Lord and the Emissary as they tried to get to their feet. The dragon god wrapped red flames, followed by yellow around the orange cyclone. The dragon mixed them together and slipped through them, snatching the Emissary¡¯s gem off his chest. He fell to the ground and the dark lord flipped to his feet. As the white-blue shine began to fade away on both of them, Malinor somehow forced a lunge towards the dragon god, the jewel ornamented dagger still in his hand.


    Malinor took a deep breath, jumped up, spun out of the fire and through the dagger at the dragon god¡¯s neck. Right before it made contact he teleported to the other side of the room. He pulled from his pouch a ruby gem. Malinor mumbled something as he rubbed the ruby, it turned into six spikes. Malinor used the dagger to carve runes into the spikes and then threw them into the air. They stopped from falling and hovered suspended in the air. The runes on each one glowed. The ruby spikes floated together in a ring. Malinor flung his hand to the ground and the ring followed, phasing through the dragon god. The ring of ruby spikes vanquished the fires. Malinor spun the spikes around with embellished hand motions and tore the dragon god¡¯s wings to shreds. After grounding the dragon god, he took his time with the dagger.


    ¡°It¡¯s practically impossible to kill a god,¡± said Malinor.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do this!¡± pleaded Zora.


    ¡°Are you not listening to me? I don''t even think I can.¡±


    Zora exhaled. She rubbed the top of Fathom¡¯s head.


    The Dark Lord went on. ¡°¡­But I can try!¡±


    Malinor jammed the dagger into the dragon¡¯s belly. It began to spasm at the sight of the dagger. The blade glowed and Malinor twisted the handle, turning the blade in the wound. The dragon cried out. It wretched in pain and then he saw it. Malinor watched a glimmer cross the body of the god.


    Malinor clicked the gem on the dagger right before the glimmer reached the wound and then plunged the blade even deeper. The gem, along with his hand, went into the wound. The glimmer started to heal the wound and then it was sucked into the gem-dagger. Dracobra stumbled back, confused. Malinor pulled his hand from the wound as he was tossed back by the enormous dragon, the gem-dagger now lit.


    Zora was watching them kill the dragon god. Something was not right. The odds looked in their favor. This thing before her was supposed to be a god. It looked like one next to Fathom, but somehow Malinor was ruining it. He was making the dragon god seem¡­puny. Zora thought she should do something. That thought alone scared her. If she tried to intervene it would mean endangering Fathom and her own safety. Nothing was going to stop them from completing their mission. That¡¯s when Zora saw it. This was Malinor¡¯s destiny. I part of her wondered if it was her destiny to witness.


    The dark lord twisted the gem on the dagger, and it changed color just like the one on the Emissary¡¯s chest. The Emissary clapped powder into the air and pushed it forth, it quickly picked up pace and turned to flakes in the air. When the dragon god tried to breathe fire, the flames hit the flakes and captured by explosions of ice. Malinor jumped along the ice crashing to the ground and impaled the softest part of the dragon¡¯s neck, right underneath its chin horns. The blade was sharp enough to cut through to the beast¡¯s brain.


    It twitched and Malinor pulled the dagger out, the gem now empty once again. He stepped back and watched the god beast squirm. Zora cried out. Something deep in her heart pained for the dragon god. Zora sobbed next to Fathom who seemed to console her with his wing. She thought about being killed by your own worshippers and how awful it must feel. Zora sympathized with the dying god.


    The god dragon writhed in its own pain, paralyzed by bewilderment. It could not heal. The wound in its neck grew. It had no choice. Dracobra lit a golden fire and crawled through it in a circle lighting itself ablaze. It shrunk down, malting out of its immense body and taking the form of a more serpent like creature with many small legs, and a big head. It spun around in the air now painted gold and black and slid up around Malinor¡¯s head. Its body adorned him like a stole. This was Dracobra¡¯s anointed chosen one. Malinor had conquered the will of a god into submission. Together with its power and his force they would be unstoppable.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The Dark Lord Malinor took the serpent god Dracobra off and beheaded it. The tail fell to the ground and out poured blighted wretch. The dark lord held the head of the dragon god in his hand, looking into its lifeless eyes.


    ¡°Finish it, then.¡± The Emissary insisted.


    Malinor ate the head of the dead dragon god.

 Chapter 72: The Serengeti Rescue

    CHAPTER 72 ¨C 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 Anilithy¨¬stad.


    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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad could even react, he watched his men get devoured all around him. Life or death battle ensued. Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad to the floor. Their defenses were completely swept. Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad, smiling in his face with his rotten breath and crooked teeth. But above all of this, brave Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯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 Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s throat. Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s cooperation.


    One of the acolytes cut the life out of its hostage.


    At the sight of a helpless villager getting mercilessly killed, Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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. Anilithy¨¬stad 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¡­¡± Anilithy¨¬stad 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.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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. Anilithy¨¬stad felt the presence of a god and took notice. It would take a long time for Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad. For the first time in his life, Anilithy¨¬stad 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? Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad, each saying respectfully, ¡°We need to evacuate now.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happened to Mitakahn?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± answered Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°but he is not our Mitakahn. Get the people ready, we¡¯re moving out.¡±


    Crack!


    Agmaritha came back over to Anilithy¨¬stad to tell him that Mitakahn was gone. He had left and when Anilithy¨¬stad asked where Agmaritha simply responded, ¡°Back to his time.¡±


    ¡°Stick close to me,¡± addressed Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°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¡± Anilithy¨¬stad begged, ¡°for your country¡¯s sake.¡±


    Agmaritha conceded to Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s request and fled the Seraphin Ravine on Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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.

 Chapter 73: Graveyard of Fear

    CHAPTER 73 ¨C GRAVEYARD OF FEAR


    As Euphrati and Mitakahn¡¯s company got closer they found that the ridge was also a cemetery. They began to walk by arches and tombs of ancient priests and sages. Now closer to the tower the company wandered around the cemetery, lost in their thoughts. All of them convincing themselves, in their own way that they had to find Euphrati¡¯s parent¡¯s grave in order to move on. Bridger took a good look at the tower in the horizon. He could see that it was really three separate towers at the top. Orion ran down the line of graves sniffing insistently over each and every one. Euphrati followed behind him with Mitakahn and checked back and forth on both sides of the graveyard.


    Euphrati could not find it. Neither could anyone else, but they kept looking. Chances were getting slimmer and slimmer as the company ruled four rows out. Soon she would have to face it. The priests were mistaken. She was not the girl they thought she was. However, she reluctantly embraced this story of her parents. Euphrati was convinced she had finally found home, and if it was all a mistake¡­maybe that would hurt most of all. This story was perfect; an inspiring and heroic tale to show how much Euphrati¡¯s parents loved her. Besides them still being alive, what more could she possibly want? This would be the storybook ending she always wanted¡­ her life to make sense, and have meaning.


    Mitakahn crouched down to have a look at one of the remaining tombstones. An icy breeze hit the back of his neck. He got up and turned around. A thick black fog was rolling in around them. Within the ashen mist dark maroon flames marched wildly towards the company. Excelsior whistled at Orion, and they sprang into action. Excelsior jumped up while Orion sprinted beneath his master and caught him on the back. And in one fluent motion Excelsior rode Orion over to Euphrati, picked her up, and tried to outrun the storm.


    Everyone else followed suit and ran away from its wrath¡­everyone except Mitakahn. Tron turned back for Mitakahn, but it was too late, so he braced himself for the storm as his shield clicked out from his forearm into place before him. When it blew by Mitakahn, he was still, opening his arms, allowing the waves to wash over him.


    Anilithion tripped over his own feet while trying to sneak a peek at the magical flames. As Bridger, Humbler, and Kunezar tried to help Anilithion up, and Orion ran away with Excelsior and Euphrati on his back, they were all consumed by the maroon wave of wildfire. An infectious monsoon covered the graveyard.


    Mitakahn opened his eyes. He stood on a black canvas. Euphrati woke up and she was still at the cemetery. Anilithion felt the cold waves of fire and darkness blow over him and when he looked up he was back at the shores of Metuchen. When Tron opened his eyes he was sitting alone, but where? He did not know. Excelsior snapped his eyes open. It was dark. He was being restrained and missing something...


    Orion woke up and he was not with his master but lying alone on the grass of the meadowlands. Bridger awoke in bed, back in his room at Compis Falls. Humbler got his bearings back and realized he was sitting down, surrounded by all his friends, in a familiar tavern. Kunezar rubbed his head. He was on his knees and propping himself up off the floor with his other hand. When he got up, he found himself before the great gate of the south, the ancient border of good and evil.


    Euphrati searched around the graveyard, but everyone else was gone. Her only choice was to distract her worries with the adamant objective of finding her parent¡¯s graves. She would waste hours thinking about what might have happened to Mitakahn and the rest of his company. So, for now, she concentrated on continuing her journey. She knelt down beside one of the older tombstones covered in dirt and ivy. After she brushed away the dirt she found her father and mother¡¯s names: ¡®ATARI & LYNEA¡¯. At last, she had found her parents.


    A tremendous amount of weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Euphrati finished the trials with strange ease and found herself back at the temple. The High Priest was ready to anoint her as one of their own. Euphrati knelt before the priest with the entire clergy proudly standing behind her. He gave her the ceremonial blessing with their essence of oil. It was now up to Euphrati to find her inner flame.


    Euphrati closed her eyes and searched for it. Finding it hard to focus on something in particular she pictured a fire burning inside her. She tried to give it more detail. Euphrati peeked out of one eye to see if she got her wings. Unfortunately, she did not. The members of the Phoenix Kingdom behind her started to whisper. Euphrati was filling more and more with doubt. How much time did she have exactly? She asked the priest if there was some sort of trick to it. He did not like that question. Euphrati knew what would happen if she could not summon her wings. She did not want to cry in front of everyone, so she excused herself from the temple.


    After that Euphrati was asked to leave Mount Fire. They told her they must have been mistaken; she was not the daughter of their most beloved family. Euphrati was so close to finding out where she truly came from. Now all of that was washing away and she had to start from scratch. Euphrati hated being the orphan girl from the mountain folk. She got about half way down the trail to Mount Fire before she had to stop and cry her heart out. There was no defeat like that of rejection.


    Anilithion crawled off the beach. He was weak and brittle. The jump had caused him great pain, almost a lifetime¡¯s full, all in one instance. So tremendous, Anilithion could barely move himself forward. A stick lay on the sandy floor, old and stoic. He grabbed a hold of it and propped himself up. It became his walking cane. Anilithion pulled tight the cloak he got from the crazed old passerby who he and his cousin met on the Epitaph road. He held it over his head to shield his face from the rain.


    It was a miserable day. But soon he could see the fields of fence and barn filling out the kingdom¡¯s ranches. From afar, the city of Metuchen looked like a simple farm. But as one got closer, it got grander. And Anilithion soon took refuge in the city he had long wanted to return to, his home. When he walked to the Throne house nothing looked familiar besides the stone walls themselves. Mostly the people were different. Something was off. Anilithion walked into the royal hall of the mighty Steed Kingdom, and it was empty.


    When he went to take a look around he caught his reflection in a mirror. He was wearing a full beard with long baleful eyes. He had to have grown forty years. The only proof to his theory was the Crown of Metuchen resting on his head. Anilithion was king. Time had jumped to the future. He looked again at the mirror and found himself standing by the throne. A warrior walked into the hall and quickly approached the throne. With hesitation Anilithion asked him, ¡°What year is it?¡± as he paced before the throne.


    ¡°My king? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Mortikahn?¡± Anilithion gasped, ¡°Is that you?¡±


    The seasoned warrior was his younger brother Mortikahn.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Anilithion fell to his seat on the throne, rubbing his forehead.


    He could feel the weary wrinkled skin between his fingers. Where had his life gone? What was he doing here? And above all other worries¡­ How was he going to get back?


    Tron was inside a tower. There was only one set of stairs, spiraling up the column. He had a simple choice ahead of him. Up or down. Tron chose up and began climbing. When he reached the top level there was a door. He propped the door open and crawled onto the balcony. At the center of the room were four crystal balls, much like the one he saw at Epitaph City. He took a look outside. His first window was south. He could see the great gate at a close distance. When he walked to the left, a glimpse of the eastern crystal globe caught his eye. He looked deep into it and saw his home city of Crucifire Plains.


    More closely the crystal moved, and he could see his parents. Then he saw himself walk into the picture and greet them with strong hugs, a champion returning from his journeys. But abruptly his time with his parents was cut short, as time itself in the globe began to speed up. People walked rapidly around him as he stood still; unhinged. In a brief stop his friends were all before him, old and dying, as they mourned his parents¡¯ funeral. Then the crystal began to speed again. Soon enough, not his family, not his friends, nor anyone else in the world was alive.


    He now knew why he was standing alone inside this tower. He was the last man alive. Suddenly, all the memories of the time spent with his friends and family between now and his journey with Mitakahn flooded his mind. A soft cringe put everyone he knew to bed, and he immediately felt the sorrow and grief that comes with losing the ones you love. All that time in the flash of an eye. He could only hope that no one else in his shattered company was suffering the same fate¡­


    Excelsior tried to punch out in front of him, but he could not. The chains were keeping him held down tight to the floor. His neck was also bolted down by a metal strap, so he could not survey the rest of his body. He could feel cold metal tightly harnessing his wrists, ankles, and waist. It was pitch black all around him and he could barely budge. The air was tight and dry. He could not breathe. Excelsior wanted to move, he wanted to free himself. The echoes of his nudging were right behind his ears. Was this his tomb? Was he buried alive and imprisoned against his will? The air drew thin, and Excelsior hyperventilated. He had always hated small, enclosed spaces. But he was too proud to admit it. So, he hid his shame, and his worst fears came true. His choices were either suffocate to death or spend eternity chained down in this black box.


    Orion lifted his head up, but it did not matter. He was exhausted. The poor dog had been walking all day. No matter how far one way he walked, he could never reach a town or a road. This place looked like the meadowlands, a longtime home to him and his master. So big it was the only thing besides the Epitaph Road that could accommodate the wanderers. But no matter how hard he tried, Orion could not cross paths with the Epitaph Road.


    So he had given up and rested upon a small hill, watching the sun set. More than anything in the world, Orion wanted to see his master climb the hill before him, with the sun grilling out his silhouette. That is why he lifted his head, but it was to no avail. And so, he just laid it back down. Orion was lost without his master.


    Excelsior meant everything in the world to him. There had to be a way Orion could get him back, a puppy that lost his best friend. Too tired to think anymore, he dropped his eyelids, and fell asleep. Orion had no idea what to do next, besides wait for his master¡¯s scent across the prevailing winds. Hoping to awake, yet again, in a different place¡­


    Bridger got out of bed. He felt refreshed and rejuvenated. After dressing, he went to the dining hall and had breakfast with his sisters. It was just like any other day at home. In fact, he had completely forgotten how he had gotten there. But he was just glad to be back again. So, he went out with the hunters scheduled to catch dinner tonight. He went with them into the woodlands, armed only with a spear. The rest of the hunting party had bows and arrows. Only a select few chose spears, a form of bragging rights over their naturally honed abilities as hunters.


    Bridger frequented the art of spear hunting. After all, he was the prince and future king of the kingdom. Today did not seem like any other day. The warriors of the Stag Kingdom were aligned in the forest thick and ready to pounce on their prey. But prior to that, Bridger could not sniff out where the herd was grazing. This had never been a problem for him before. Up until now, he was flawless in his tracking and hunting. He tried to shake it off. Bridger psyched himself up for the hunt.


    A call from his comrades cried out and he knew to charge. They all lifted off their feet a half a second before him and by the time Bridger had gotten to a sprint they were all ahead of him shooting down their targets. Bridger, in a moment of desperation, let his spear fly, with a fierce throw, from a long distance. It wobbled through the air in a dizzy spiral and missed his boar wide right. The prince felt weak, unsure of himself. He dropped to his knees and looked at his hands.


    The crowd of successful hunters circled around him. Bridger tried to listen to the forest. He could hear nothing but the men breathing around him. He tried to smell out the trails of the woodland creatures, but all he could smell was his own worried sweat. One last act finalized it; Bridger rose from the ground, grabbed one of his fellow kinsmen by the collar and tried to lift them into the air. His arm gave out before he could do it. His strength was gone along with his speed and senses. Bridger had lost all of his uncanny abilities. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The droplets of perspiration were splashing gently on the table as they ran down another glass of ale. There were six mugs on the table, and one bowl below it. Humbler was confused, yet it did not bother him. Nothing could bother him right now. He was in a place in which he loved, amongst the company of his most trusted peers. Humbler looked around.


    From face to face, he saw the absence of emotion. Even when he looked at Orion, lying on the ground, he could only see tainted faces. Had they failed? Humbler could not remember what had happened after the cemetery at Mount Fire. He racked his mind for an answer, but there was nothing. All he could muster was an assumption that they had failed from the look of all the disdained faces.


    Mitakahn looked the worst in Humbler¡¯s eyes. He had to be. His kingdom was destroyed. His family¡­.brutally murdered. His entire life was lost. Beside him was Anilithion worth equal in life to lose, and Tron beside him, wearing the same face. Around the other side of Mitakahn were Excelsior, Bridger, and Kunezar. They were just as worse for wear. Humbler¡¯s memory loss was bothersome, but the overwhelming need to make his friend¡¯s smile was too much to do anything else. Humbler got into it with them, acting like his normal jolly self, cracking wise, and having a good time. But there was not a budge from his gray company.


    He had to ask, ¡®what happened?¡¯ But he could not bear his friends the burden of rehashing their failures and misery. Humbler stood up, attempting to get a rise out of everyone. They all turned and looked at Humbler. This was it. This was when the group looked to him. Humbler had always thought of himself as the group¡¯s relief, their last hope when things got too down, too depressing, too dark. If he could not do his job then what good was he?


    He slammed his fist on the table to get their attention, but nothing came out of his mouth. He froze; the sadness was taking over, grabbing a hold of him, and sucking the life out. Humbler was rapidly losing his happiness, losing his joy, losing his smile.


    Humbler was scared. For the first time in a while, he felt fear. It was unwelcomed and uncomfortable. He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to get it off of him. But it did not work. The group looked away from him and he could feel the uniform exhale of giving up. He caught it like an infection and sat back down in his seat.


    If all the joy was gone from life then what was the point in living? An unheard howl in the night. Humbler could never make it as a sad person. Perhaps that is why he thrived as a happy one. Anticipatory drool slides down its fangs. The slippery slope of depression had captured Humbler, dragging him down. Like a world with no sun, he felt lifeless. The berserker stood tall behind him eclipsing his light. Humbler¡¯s spirit was dead. And the dark wolf feasted into the night.


    Kunezar got himself up. He took a good look around. In the distance, to his left was the ocean. To his right, far right, he could see murky swamplands. And directly in front of him was the great gate. A solid, towering, black metal gate spanning the distance between the southern gap of the Burning Mountains, dividing the North from the South, the lands of good and freedom from the badlands. Somehow, Kunezar was on the wrong side. He was stuck in the badlands.


    He looked back to see if he could locate the legendary Temple of Darkness. There was some sort of structure in the distance, but he could not see. Kunezar pounded on the wall. He wanted to go back. He wanted to get back to the cemetery and the rest of his friends. From behind him, sinister laughter echoed closer. Immediately, Kunezar unsheathed his sword and prepared for battle.


    When he turned around, three soldiers with rotted armor wearing colors of the Dragon Kingdom waited for him. Upon seeing Kunezar they did not arm themselves. In fact, they were not fazed at all by him, which begged to question his current appearance. Kunezar looked at his sword. It was not the smooth steel of his trusted blade, but a crooked scimitar rusted down the edge. His clothing was war-torn and dirty. As Kunezar continued to examine himself, the dark warriors behind him clubbed at the wall. The great gate shook and rattled.


    It was suspiciously weak. The black metal crumbled before him, and they ran forward; north. Kunezar screamed. He followed suit behind the dark ones and invaded the SandLands. Kunezar followed the rancid wave of evil into the northern kingdoms, and flanked left.


    Soon he came across the banks of the Equitor River. The river shimmered below him as he walked on the water¡¯s edge. He had to have a look for himself. What had he become? When he knelt over the reflection, he came upon a mind shattering sight. The skin on his face was burnt and scaly. His features underneath were all still the same, his mouth, cheekbone, nose, brow, even his eyes, except for his irises, which were a pale shade of light amethyst. Kunezar stood up. Something he had long feared had come to pass. Just like the ancient god Dracobra turned from lizard to dragon, Kunezar had transferred kingdoms, transforming from man to monster.


    The sinister laughter returned. This time when he turned around, the three evil soldiers that accompanied him through the gate were back, holding a poor mother and her children. From the look of it, they were poor beggars from the Komodo Maze. Kunezar was still holding his scimitar. He had forgotten that it replaced his sword and had oddly grown fond of it. The corrupt line of the blade resembled his brewing attitude.


    They looked so helpless in front of him. There was nothing the poor family could do. Like sheep to the slaughter, there was no hope. Kunezar wiped his mouth, he was drooling. He could smell their blood, their fear. Worse than that, it smelled good. He was not himself. Kunezar had fallen to the dark side.


    Mitakahn woke up in a dark room. When he woke up, he was on the hill, beside the victim. A shiver folded down his spine. He looked down and found that he was holding a knife.


    The walls felt like they were closing in around him. There by a window, the only window in the room, the stars lit the ground. An old man was sleeping in a bed with three silhouettes hanging above him. With the knife in his hands, he stabbed. He stabbed and they stabbed, he was amongst them and approaching them. Through their cloaked obscure, through the old man, the knives tore the bed up.


    The dagger plunged into the victim on the bed and the screams rang out and floated over the distance. Back and forth, his body flailed as their arms lunged in fury. Mitakahn knew their voices. It couldn¡¯t be. He knew not what he did, with who he did it, or who he did it to.


    He threw himself at the window to try and break it, but he could not get to himself. The daggers re-surface briefly before another attack. Mitakahn watched the victim writhe in slaughter. The pressure built up enough to shatter the glass. The crying and laughter finally broke free and stung his ears. Mitakahn screamed to match the outside anguish. He spooked the figures before the bed. Blood trickled down the blade. Where was he? Inside the house with the knife? Or outside looking in?


    It looked pure. In his release he glanced up and saw an unfinished house with a roof of night sky. He brought the blade up and wiped it off. Mitakahn dug his hands into the wall. It moved thick like mud. The screams had stopped. He got over the wall, and fell to the floor, but it was too late; the victim was dead. At least Mitakahn could finally identify the murderers, the evildoers, the three to blame for all of this... He could not believe what he saw. A familiar feeling washed over him like Mitakahn was back in the mountains after the funeral. What had he seen? What did he know? The worst part was the most incontrovertible piece of horror¡­ Mitakahn caught a glimmer from the moonlight off the metal of his dagger¡¯s reflection and saw the victim¡¯s face¡­his father¡¯s face¡­


    Just as suddenly as the maroon flames came upon them, Mitakahn and his company were thrown back to the graveyard. Many would not face their worst fears again for some time to come, a scattered uneven plot on the ongoing timeline, each member dealing with their brief windows and the reparations at their own pace. But for one, vision would turn to reality with very little difference. The transition was smooth, and his panic remained. Excelsior thrust his hands forward one more time and the chains shattered into thin air.


    His center of gravity dropped, and he was able to kick the box. Heel after heel into the short board under his feet proved successful. The plank of wood splintered and cracked, pushing into the surrounding soil. Excelsior could feel the fresh air on his cheek. What little there was quickly faded away.


    Excelsior needed more. He twisted his posture around and moved the broken wall of the crate inside, giving himself room to dig. Excelsior channeled his energy into shoving the dirt. With his hands he dropped it between his legs. He was making some headway. The tunnel was tight with barely any room to reach. Excelsior was choking on the dirt continuously pouring onto his face. His arms were getting stuck. He tried to back into the box to start over but could not budge. He was stuck. His elbows were caught by the edges of the broken wall, and once again the air was growing thin.


    Mitakahn woke up lying on the floor, his head resting on a tombstone.


    ¡°PROMETHEUS¡± it read.


    The tombstone looked like the oldest by far, and most lavish; silken golden curves and glistening amber crystal. He got to his feet and looked around. Anilithion was right next to him, with his head resting on the adjacent tombstone. And next to him was Tron, and then Bridger, Humbler, Kunezar, and Euphrati further down the line. They were all slowly coming to.


    Tron rubbed his eyes as Mitakahn helped Anilithion up. Anilithion leaned on his cousin and felt his own face, making sure the skin was smooth again and not brittle. To his relief it was full of youth and life. Bridger got his bearings back and sprung to his feet, happy to feel his power once again. Humbler looked around and saw the smiling faces of his friends. It was only Mitakahn and Kunezar who did not walk away from this awakening somewhat relieved.


    Instead, they held in deep seeded secrets of themselves, hoping to never have them resurface again. Mitakahn knelt down before Euphrati as she was still somewhere else inside her head. He gently stirred her awake, but before he could say anything, he was caught off guard by the names written on the tombstone Euphrati was lying on.


    ¡°What happened¡­what happened to us? Are we back?¡± questioned Euphrati as she rubbed the back of her head. There was no answer.


    ¡°Mitakahn?¡± she continued, ¡°what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Your father¡­¡± muttered Mitakahn, ¡°they said his name was Atari right?¡± as he tapped the tombstone with his fingertips.


    ¡°Yes,¡± confirmed Euphrati. She caught his gaze and followed it to the headstone.


    ¡°ATARI & LYNEA¡± it said, just like in her vision.


    She had found her parents¡¯ final resting place. At last, the mystery was finally put to bed. For some curious reason, even though in her heart she knew these were her parents and this was her home, some doubt still remained deep down, and she knew exactly why.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Excelsior and Orion?¡± shouted Kunezar.


    The crew looked around at his request. In their attempt to resolve the events of lately, they had inexcusably forgotten their friend and his four-legged companion. Echoes of captured screams charged their hearts.


    Mitakahn looked around as they all yelled out around him, ¡°Excelsior!¡±


    ¡°Excelsior!¡±


    ¡°Orion!¡±


    ¡°EXCELSIOR!¡±


    Excelsior was losing the will to go on. He was stuck and there was no way out. He pushed his right arm back, his elbow digging into the dirt, and punched through the earth poking out into the air.


    Bridger put his ear to the floor and could hear short frantic breathing. Suddenly a hand popped out of the ground before him and Kunezar. They quickly ran over to it and grabbed it. Kunezar called for the rest of the company to come. They all began digging around the arm and encouraging Excelsior to hold on. Together, they could not pull him from the ground. This seemed to be the end for Excelsior. How did his nightmare become real? What made him different from the others? Euphrati felt a little paranoid, as she wondered why it was not her being physically tested by the trial.


    There was nothing any man could do for him. Mitakahn raked at the dirt furiously, trying not to give up on his best friend. He looked around as he panted and tried to catch his breath; his friends were still digging all around him, but only making a little headway. The earth below their fingernails was tough, unforgiving.


    Something was missing. Not something, but someone. Just then, out from over the ridge, Orion¡¯s head could be seen. He was in full sprint and heading right for them. Together, the group backed away from Excelsior¡¯s tomb, careful not to collide with Orion¡¯s landing. He immediately began bulldozing the earth out from in between him and his master; doing what the rest of the company could not. His mighty canine claw tearing through the stubborn earth with ease. In Excelsior¡¯s last breath, he threw his arms out and broke free from his prison. The skin on his fingers instantly felt the familiar touch of a loved one. He grabbed his most loyal companion¡¯s fur and was lifted out of the premature grave.


    Orion slid Excelsior out and laid down next to him, as Mitakahn wiped his eyes, nose, and mouth clean of dirt. He was still breathing, but barely conscious. Orion licked his forehead. Excelsior began coughing and opened his eyes. He was back. Everyone smiled around each, completely relieved that he was okay.


    Euphrati gave them a chance to gather themselves as she looked ahead at the tower. The red clouds of smoke churned above. The winds blew and the mountains walled around them. Mitakahn was the first to walk up and meet with her.


    ¡°That must be the Observatory we were looking for,¡± he said.


    ¡°If that was any hint of what¡¯s to come, I don¡¯t think it''s going to get any easier.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still with you, Euphrati,¡± Mitakahn put his hand on his shoulder, ¡°Even Excelsior.¡±


    After a short break, the group once again rallied, and left the cemetery, ready for the next trial.

 Chapter 74: Into the Cosmos

    CHAPTER 74 ¨C INTO THE COSMOS


    The dark lord stood crunched over, clenching his sides. His body unhinging itself, decoding his make-up and fusing with the godly essence on a fundamental level. For him his consciousness was propelled forward unyieldingly. He hit spots along his imagination and memories, maybe even a glimpse here and there of the future and events to come. For the Emissary and Zora, the view was much weirder.


    The dark lord¡¯s eyes flooded with black, spreading to every corner of his sight. The darkness churned in his eyes and the edges glowed. He could finally see, he could see outside of his humanity, his material form a mere shell he chose to discard. That¡¯s when Malinor felt something foreboding, dreadful, to the east. It was a massive force and it weighed on him. Its power was equal to if not more than the dragon god force Malinor just inherited, but what he felt to the east was so much more potent. It reminded him of the first day he saw the edge of MagnaThora.


    The Dark Lord Malinor exhaled deeply. The blackness in his eyes pulled back to just outside his pupils. The glow diminished almost completely. He closed his eyes. His body twitched in places it shouldn¡¯t. Shoulders spasmed like arms. He was trying to hold tremendous power inside him. The Emissary stepped forward.


    ¡°My lord¡­please¡­I beseech you¡­use the orb.¡±


    The Emissary offered up the gem harnessed to his chest. Malinor looked at him like he wanted to tear his head off. He raised his hand, and it was huge, with scales and long claw-like nails, resembling a dragon. Malinor blinked for a second and then placed his monstrous hand onto the gem. The mysterious orb hummed and shook Malinor¡¯s claw. It shined beams of light through the claw, the pale light opened up as his claw dwindled back down to a normal human hand. The process left the hand smoking, which was anything but normal.


    Malinor practically had to peel his hand off the gem on the Emissary¡¯s chest. It was now fully aglow with splashing light. There seemed to be an obtrusion within it, like mixing oil with vinegar, two substances that did not blend together. The Emissary stepped back, a slight uncertainty in his step. Malinor rubbed his head. He tried to find his words.


    ¡°That is true power.¡±


    ¡°How did it feel?¡±


    ¡°It felt¡­right, like destiny calling.¡±


    ¡°You wield the power of the gods, surely there is nothing that can stop you. What shall we do now, my lord?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to raze the Pride to the NetherRealm.¡±


    ¡°Come forth, Sky Marshal.¡±


    Zora hesitantly approached. The only thing giving her the bravery to do so being the fact that he just emptied all that insane power into the gem. She was wrong. Malinor looked up and closed his eyes. When he opened them they were black again. Zora screamed and jumped back, but she was not quick enough. Fathom immediately sprang into motion, swatting the Emissary away with his tail and attacking Malinor. Malinor whispered and the dragon stopped. His eyes pulsed, as if trying to resist. Fathom the dragon sat at attention and watched the dark lord hold his mother Zora by the throat. His other hand bulked up into the giant dragon claw again. This time he focused on it and reduced it back down while his hand began to shine red.


    He pressed his hand on Zora¡¯s chest, and she felt something awful enter her body through her heart. Malinor released her, letting Zora drop to the floor helplessly. The feeling that crept inside her was unnatural and unyielding. It cut right to the core of her. This must be what death feels like. The fire in her soul went out briefly and what was left was petrified ash.


    It spread throughout her body as her skin began to morph into an odd stone. Soon the stone covered her entire body from head to toe. She panicked. It moved like her normal skin, but it creaked and cracked, giving off subtle dust clouds in places like the knees and elbows. Zora¡¯s panic mostly came from her human lungs seizing up. She couldn¡¯t breathe, the final parts of her mutation coming to completion. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to breathe in MagnaThora¡¯s atmosphere for a while. I gave you the gift of moonstone flesh. You will be able to survive in the cold of deep space. You will fly through the void with the velocity of the moon. Go and find me my stardragons.¡±


    Zora tried to talk and coughed instead. She was having a hard time. Malinor smiled and rubbed her on the back. It felt weird, in more ways than one.


    ¡°Did you really think I would ever trust you? I see the look in your eyes. I am not blind. You are a ghost of the past, Sky Marshal, and this is your station now. Find my stardragons before this war is over and you will get your humanity back. Until then, your only salvation is the stars. Go now or die!¡±


    Zora cried, or at least she tried to cry. The cracks under her eyes spat out a little cloud of dust as they rubbed together. She opened her mouth. Again nothing.


    ¡°Oh, this is truly pathetic,¡± said the Dark Lord.


    The Emissary laughed behind him.


    ¡°How¡­how will¡­¡± Zora tried to say, ¡°I know¡­.what to¡­.look¡­for?¡±


    Malinor walked her over to Fathom still sitting before them at the ready, long large gold and black dragon eyes bulging out of his head. He put his hand on the dragon¡¯s chest, just as he did to Zora. With all of the energy she could muster, Zora grabbed his arm and begged.


    ¡°Please! No!¡±


    Malinor shook her off and she toppled over to the floor. With his free hand, the one he just pushed Zora with, he summoned back some of the power from the Emissary¡¯s gemstone harness.


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± the Emissary yelled.


    His hair shriveled and some of it fell out of his head, Malinor had taken some of his life force with the gem power. The Dark Lord mumbled an incantation under his breath and imbued Fathom with two streams of cosmic energy. The gem shot the charge into Fathom as the Emissary fell to his knees. Malinor pressed both his hands upon the dragon¡¯s chest, essentially launching it with void light into what little airspace the cavern provided. The dragon started increasing in size, his spine pierced his scaly skin and then turned blue, icing over his body, as the blue began to flush over the dragon entirely he cried out, physically panicking.


    ¡°Better get going, Sky Marshal,¡± the Dark Lord smirked, ¡°before Fathom dies of heat exhaustion.¡±


    Before the dragon grew too big for the cavern Malinor opened up a portal large enough to fit them all through. It opened up atop a mountain peak. Zora could only surmise that it was merely above where they just were in the caverns. The important part was they were outside now. Fathom had room to grow to the size of a tower.


    ¡°If you do not take off with him soon, he will break the continent.¡±


    Zora rubbed her tactile face as if to wipe away nonexistent tears and got to her feet. She was barely able to mount her enlarging dragon. That is until Malinor created two void spikes that snatched her by the shoulders and carried her to Fathom¡¯s hide. The poor stardragon was having trouble pumping his cold wings hard enough to take flight. They were both struggling with the abhorrent changes put upon them.


    ¡°Fathom,¡± Malinor said, ¡°Listen to the moon above you. Find the orbit.¡±


    The dragon opened his wings as Zora settled into her position on top of him. It was night time and the clouds parted revealing the moon. The dragon¡¯s blue scales reflected the moonlight. The light bounced into its open wings and scattered. The moonlight hit the strange violet-black connective tissue of his wings and it turned into void light, quickly getting sucked into the wing.


    Fathom¡¯s wings began to glow. He tried to fly again, and this time took off into the air with ease. By the time Fathom and Zora exited MagnaThora¡¯s atmosphere, the dragon was the size of a city. Zora finally felt okay. She¡¯d rather not think about how her flesh was now moonrock but being in the vast darkness of space eased her transition to this new form. It almost felt¡­calming.


    She had never thought she would ever penetrate the void of darkness behind the sky of MagnaThora. Now that she was on the other side the views were serene, and really put MagnaThora into perspective. Strangely enough, from up here Zora could see that MagnaThora was not the only continent in the world, contrary to popular and historical belief.


    Fathom gained moonlight at an accelerated rate as they move closer to the moon. This increased his speed. Zora came up with a quick plan. She was going to slingshot Fathom around the moon and pick up as much velocity as possible to travel the stars as fast as possible, the only downside of the plan was¡­which way to travel, which way to find the stardragons.


    Zora heard something in her head. It sounded like it was coming from the surface of the planet. It was Malinor humming. Zora copied the tune. Then, very quietly at first, so quiet it made Zora think she was going crazy, hearing phantom echoes, she realized Fathom was humming along with his mother. The dragon got louder with his song, and it rang out in all directions. They waited for what felt like a long time, an eternity. Finally, one of the song-rings came pulsing back to them, so they flew in that direction.

 Chapter 75: Tides of Metuchen

    CHAPTER 75 ¨C 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 Anilithy¨¬stad, 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Ady¨¢na 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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? Anilithy¨¬stad looked forward to Agmaritha¡¯s retelling of her conversation with Mitakahn. At Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯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 Anilithy¨¬stad and Ady¨¢na, 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad, 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. Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad.


    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, Anilithy¨¬stad and Paxikahn attacked from both sides of Jericho. Together they rid the world of two more demons, wiping them out. Anilithy¨¬stad 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, Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad had already arrived at the circle and met with his sister. Queen Ady¨¢na, 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 Anilithy¨¬stad got there with the five thousand reinforcements along with her brother Paxikahn, Ady¨¢na 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad 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. Ady¨¢na 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 Ady¨¢na was practically an adult and a queen of another kingdom. Yet, their love for each other was endless. Ady¨¢na 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.


    Anilithy¨¬stad meanwhile, was helping Agmaritha down off of his horse. She walked over to the statue as Anilithy¨¬stad was welcomed back by Ady¨¢na. 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 Anilithy¨¬stad was telling the queen about her late husband¡¯s sibling. Ady¨¢na was escorted over to Agmaritha by Anilithy¨¬stad when she discovered that the poor woman was crying.


    Ady¨¢na 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. Ady¨¢na 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, Anilithy¨¬stad and Ady¨¢na 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 Anilithy¨¬stad 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. Anilithy¨¬stad 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 Ady¨¢na and Agmaritha safely inside the Citadel with the refugees before joining the fight. Axion and Anilithy¨¬stad, 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. Anilithy¨¬stad 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.

 Chapter 76: The Observatory

    CHAPTER 76 ¨C THE OBSERVATORY


    They walked together, further down the backside of the mountain. Excelsior, still somewhat worn out, rode on Orion¡¯s back. When they reached the foot of the tower, it was much grander than they had thought. It looked more like three towers wrapped together, only divided at the top. But at the bottom, at the lobby of the Observatory, there were close to a hundred different openings


    When the group walked through, they found that the massive tower was supported by a cluster of rotund columns. The light from outside cut and focused into patterns around the columns, a frame of circles. At the center of the tower, within the columns, were three sets of stairs leading up in different directions.


    ¡°Do we chance it together or go at them all divided?¡± debated Bridger.


    ¡±We stay together.¡±


    ¡°It might be the same as the dragons,¡± Tron tried to correlate.


    ¡°We could split back into dragon fighting teams,¡± said Kones.


    Mitakahn looked at Euphrati. ¡°Well¡­what do you think?¡±


    ¡°I think we should each just choose a path and walk up it,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Go with our feelings¡­¡± clarified Mitakahn.


    ¡°I agree,¡± said Excelsior, as he got back onto his own feet.


    They all nodded, took a moment to decide, and walked to their target-staircase. Mitakahn held back, neglecting his instinct and waited to follow Euphrati. Together they walked to the middle staircase along with Kunezar. Tron and Anilithion simply walked up the closest staircase. Excelsior with Orion, along with Humbler and Bridger also walking up another staircase in the back. They all entered a different part of the first level.


    The floor was cut up into three equally spaced rooms. Tron and Anilithion walked into their room. It had another door on the wall opposite of them. All along the walls were different codes of tiny buttons and levers. There were also four aisles going down the room towards the door, filled with several sequences of more buttons and levers. Tron knew what to do almost immediately.


    The room Euphrati, Mitakahn, and Kunezar entered was much like the other. There was a large wooden gear connected by four taught coils to a glass frame with a tablet in it. On the wood surface of the gear an imprint identically matched Euphrati¡¯s talisman of the Phoenix.


    In Bridger, Humbler, Excelsior, and Orion¡¯s room the entire span of the wall was covered in doors. Instead of any handles or knobs they found locks with tiny, reflected slivers.


    Each group had to find where they placed their talismans and connect it to the Observatory, which appeared to be one gigantic machine. Tron found the right code on the second aisle towards the middle and unlocked the other door. Euphrati placed the Phoenix talisman in the center of the gear and turned it to the right. It clicked and the coils buckled into the gear, one after another.


    As they snapped back the glass frame broke and shattered on the floor. A door opened behind it and Mitakahn retrieved the tablet now free from the glass. Bridger and Excelsior finally got to the right door, and it popped open. All three groups met each other on the staircase outside. Mitakahn finished letting Euphrati read the tablet before he showed the rest of the group¡­


    The Legend of Prometheus 1: Herald


    Prometheus was a force destined to roam the galaxies forever. For ages and ages, he begged for release from his plight and the reincarnation of his life¡­to come back as a different entity entirely. Then, one day his path collided with that of a white sun, and he woke up on MagnaThora. At this time, the great Phoenix was carving out the Burning Mountains. As she finished, the Sunbird kept one peak untouched, the highest peak, and ordained it Mount Fire. This is where Prometheus was reborn, reborn as a completely different being. He was made of flesh and blood, he had awoken as mankind. Before this sacred and momentous occasion, Prometheus was presented to the Phoenix, and the fate of MagnaThora was changed forever.


    Below the mountains, mankind was wandering around the world, na?ve, juvenile, and lost, just waiting to be discovered and influenced. Prometheus was the tool in which the Phoenix would tap the source of humanity¡¯s spirit. The great Phoenix kindled unto Prometheus all the rites of her kind, the rituals of her community, the mark of her flock, and the purpose of their faith.


    The Phoenix told Prometheus the importance of her being in one simple tone...


    Her mere presence in the world alone was responsible for: the orbit around the sun, the progression of time, the shifting of the tectonic plates, and the innermost heat of the planet¡¯s core.


    Prometheus marveled at the infernal beast¡¯s grandeur. But for her, there was still one element missing. To perform at her optimal level, she required the spirit of man. And so the Phoenix beckoned the most pure force from the galaxies to play herald. Prometheus knelt down before the Phoenix, and it blew its cosmic flames onto his back. Prometheus closed his eyes. The flames seeped into his skin, throughout his body, and wrapped around his heart.


    When he opened his eyes Prometheus saw everything for the first time with his new sight. A fiery yellow filter, Prometheus finally felt at home. The Phoenix gave Prometheus wings of fire to fly over the lands and summon her flock.


    When Prometheus touched down on the long plains of empty canvas that would later become the Serengeti and MeadowLands, the men and women gathered at his illustrious entrance. Still a newborn race, they had never seen fire until now. So Prometheus had no choice but to churn a fireball in his hand and present it to them. He left it there on the ground for them to study as he returned to Mount Fire. Material inspiration in the form of natural curiosity would fuel their hearts and minds into motion.


    Over the next couple of years, man learned the power of conviction and ambition from the flame before it ultimately burned out. And from that conviction and ambition, they discovered the skills necessary to evolve. Man learned to create their own fire. Out of the many men that took this next step in evolution were the few whose hearts craved more. They would all, in their own time, make their pilgrimage to Mount Fire and become the founding members of the first kingdom in mankind¡¯s history; the Phoenix Kingdom.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    After they all finished reading the first tablet, the group continued up the stairs to the next floor of the tower.


    ¡°What do you think it all means?¡± asked Tron.


    ¡°Too early to tell...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Could be that we¡¯re supposed to be Prometheus,¡± theorized Euphrati.


    ¡°There¡¯s more to this legend than only herald,¡± thought out Mitakahn, ¡°I figure we¡¯re going to have to wait and see.¡± They approached the next level.


    Inside, was one massive room, no staircases, or aisles, nor knobs nor gears. But the floor looked like it had recently been disassembled and stuck back together. When Orion chanced a step onto the floor the piece fell out. After looking closer, Mitakahn could see that there were symbols on each of the pieces that made up the floor. And out of the ninety pieces there were only three different symbols: A phoenix, a mount, and a flame.


    The one that fell out was a flame.


    When Bridger risked stepping on a phoenix stone it did not fall, but when Anilithion tried a mount stone it collapsed. Each knight found their own way across the floor, slowly figuring out the combination was phoenix, mount, flame, over and over, until they reached the other side. Euphrati followed Mitakahn across in the middle. Orion, timid to go ahead, waited for his master and Bridger to plot out their path before he risked running across, cunningly tiptoeing across the air. Anilithion looked around at the entire room while waiting for Tron to figure out the path. As Tron crossed over the last stone to the other side, Anilithion¡¯s heel slipped, and he fell through the cracks.


    Tron brushed himself off unaware, his back turned to Anilithion, but Mitakahn¡¯s scream jolted him into action. When he turned around to see Anilithion¡¯s absence, a whip cracked and wrapped around his golden forearm, pulling him down. He caught the floor, and Anilithion crawled up his whip onto Tron¡¯s arm and they were both saved by the rest of the group.


    Tron got himself up and rubbed his wrist. Three red marks ran up the inside of his arm to his elbow, the impressions of the whip¡¯s wrath. There was no need to give thanks or lay blame. They just kept going, as if nothing happened. Once all across, they made it easily out the door and back up another staircase wrapping around the outside of the temple.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    On the third floor was again just one room as big as the width of the tower. The only thing on the floor was a giant triangle, the corners connected by three empty circles. Once inside next to the triangle they could see a way out and up to the next level and a glass case in the middle of the triangle. Inside the glass case was another red tablet.


    All that could be read through its glass was the title, ¡°The Legend of Prometheus II: Founder¡±


    By the look of three empty circles, everyone was inclined to try their talismans again. After they figured out the combination and one last closer look, the three lines when turned at the same time connected the talismans, formed individual triangles themselves, acute and subtle. The other discovery was that they could be moved on the floor as a whole, but only had two locking positions, the other talismans. With a couple of random combination attempts, they unlocked the glass case and the tablet rose forth. The code was Mount to Phoenix to Flame, Mitakahn wondered if there was any significance to the order. Tron got to the tablet first, eager to read what hints and clues could be next¡­


    The Legend of Prometheus 2: Founder


    When Prometheus returned to Mount Fire, the Phoenix was waiting for him inside a cove at the top of the mount¡¯s peak. Prometheus found the Phoenix in this unreachable cove and reported the completion of his heraldry. With one last breath of instruction, the Phoenix then blessed him and crumbled to ash. Behind its ashes was still one lone flame, burning, un-fueled and embedded within the mountainside, a portal for the Phoenix into this world, the Flame Eterna. In the Phoenix¡¯s last breath of instruction, Prometheus was issued the task of setting up a community for the up-and-coming kingdom which involved three charges:


    The first charge was to build a temple by carving out the mountainside. The temple would be crafted out of the lava frozen stone that made up the Burning Mountains. Prometheus floated in the air, on his wings, and funneled and shaped his flames to burn into the mountain. The outcome was awe-inspiring, a true work of art. The walls were ridged.


    The columns were firm and curved. Inside the outer temple shell was a cathedral of thin red crystal stone walls. Within the crystal cathedral, Prometheus etched into the wall behind the temple altar the most magnificent illustration of the Phoenix, leaving the other two walls blank. He also made it, so at one point in the day, every day, the sun would hit the red window roof and reflect the rays into the room, illuminating the symbol of the Phoenix behind the altar.


    The second charge presented to Prometheus was to make up trials of allegiance and commitment. This is when he erected the Observatories behind to mount. Within the building lay different dilemmas and obstacles on each floor revolving around the acquisition of a key, Prometheus¡¯ key. This was the only way to get into the Altar of the Flame Eterna and be baptized in the Phoenix¡¯s pure essence. These games would come to be called the Keymaster Trials, and a tribal standard among the followers of the Phoenix.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    Each member of the company had a glance at it, as they passed it around and headed up yet another fleet of stairs outside of the temple. Again, with the chance to discuss the template¡¯s meanings while climbing ever higher into the sky.


    ¡°What about the third charge?¡± pointed out Bridger.


    ¡°Bridger¡¯s right,¡± Kunezar seconded, ¡°It left out the last charge.¡±


    ¡°At least this one narrows it down some more,¡± precluded Excelsior.


    ¡°We have to find the Prometheus Key,¡± Pinpointed Mitakahn.


    Sure enough, when they got to the next level, the fourth floor of the Observatory, inside was a lone treasure chest, surrounded by three sets of stairs going up. There were three locks on the golden chest. They were of exact circles and the talismans fit perfectly inside of them. They placed them in the order of the triangle they just encountered on the floor below them and turned in the order of the template room below. And in this sequence of moves the treasure unlocked and the chest popped open.


    Inside was soft red cloth lining the walls comforting the ruby red and charcoal gray Prometheus Key. The key was almost as big as a scepter. It had the welding of a phoenix¡¯s face alternating ruby red and cold metal gray on the handle, and the most intricate system of teeth. The first of which was a thin red crystal rectangle held in by the charcoal metal latching onto the center of each side. And the second of which was a shift marked by carve-outs of two connected half-circles and a point of axis. The third and bottom tooth was the smallest and simplest. Just a short metal stub to support the two other elaborately structured teeth.


    The plundered chest swallowed their talismans. Now all they had was the key. Anilithion picked it up out of the chest and brought it over to Euphrati to hold on to. On this next flight the company decided to stick together, now only having one key between all of them and leaving the talismans behind. They followed Euphrati up a staircase which seemed to bring them to the middle room of the next floor.


    The door opened for them and closed behind them. Inside the room was a small stone sculpture of a wall standing alone in the center of the room. It was dark and there was a keyhole inside of it big enough to fit the Prometheus Key. Euphrati stuck it in and turned it but nothing happened. Excelsior suggested turning it a different way. It moved but did not unlock.


    ¡°It goes three ways but does not unlock, perhaps it is another puzzle?¡± theorized Tron.


    After he walked around the back of the wall, Mitakahn retrieved the key, brought it to the other side and tried again. He slid the handle with the phoenix face in first. When he twisted the key, the other side of the key, the teeth, were pulled up and back into the groove of the wall. Mitakahn could now see the face of the phoenix on the handle staring right at him. He pressed his fingertips on the eyes for a grip and swung it to the left. A door slid open on the opposite wall to the outside. He tried moving it again, but it did not budge.


    Everyone cheered for Mitakahn as they all left to move on, when he thought of another way to turn the key. He pulled the key out and it came with ease. Then he put it in the keyhole on the other side that Euphrati tried and it triggered a stone slate to fold down revealing the last crystal tablet. He pulled it out. They all moved out of the tower to the ascending spiral balcony on the outside.


    ¡°How did you figure that out, Mitakahn?¡± Euphrati asked.


    Mitakahn could not hear her over the winds, as he yelled to them all, trying to read the tab aloud,


    The Legend of Prometheus 3: Gatekeeper


    ¡°The third and final charge of the great Sunbird god was for Prometheus to protect the divine portal between dimensions, the Flame Eterna. Prometheus pledged his life to the service of the Phoenix, and vowed, upon completion of the temple and trials, to never leave the flame unprotected again. This was the anointing of the first Gatekeeper.¡±


    ¡°When Prometheus finished the Observatory the first of the candidates had arrived. The doors to the top of the tower locked, the levels were set, and the gates around the tower closed, as the first human hand grasped the last ledge of Mt. Fire. Five men and six women both set off and met along the road to the mount. They sat down and stared at the temple. For them it was out of reach. Yes, they were close to the top, but the temple was higher still, unreachable by mere men and women, along with the altar. Prometheus met them with a grand gesture. He flew from the tower to the temple and burned a zigzagging slope down right before the eleven candidates.¡±


    ¡°He modeled his wings humbly and displayed the powers of the phoenix appropriately, a courteous preview before focused testing and gauntlet hazing. He then told them the legend of the Phoenix and his own tale of recruitment. He ended his narrative with how he built the Observatories and perfectly segued into their initiation.¡±


    ¡°He explained to them the rules of the Keymaster Trials. There were five rules. The first rule was to work together, along with fate, to find the way through the maze. The second rule was to do whatever it took to get to the Flame Eterna. The third rule was to know that the Phoenix has all her disciples¡¯ best interests in mind. The fourth rule was to avoid any temptation to cheat or be untrue. The fifth and final rule was to obtain the key hidden with the tower. It was the only way one can get to the altar of the Flame Eterna without wings. The last thing Prometheus said to them before they started the trials was, ¡®The Prometheus Key moves throughout the Observatory. You will know what it is once you see it. Good luck and I will see you on the other side¡­¡¯


    Prometheus rose into the air and his giant fiery wings pumped as he flew to the cove within the mount. This was his last flight before his endless deployment as Gatekeeper to the Flame Eterna.¡±


    ¡°By the end of that day, none of the candidates had made it out of the trials yet. Prometheus was not at all surprised. With the future of the kingdom in mind, he had made the puzzles and obstacles extremely difficult. Nowhere close to the low level of primitive humanity. Perhaps they were unreachable standards, but one extremely earnest pledge got herself to the top of the Observatory and was able to get to the Cloud Observatory; where a boat, docked in a river of fire aimed towards Prometheus and the altar.


    When she reached the altar she presented Prometheus with the key. It was the right one; a red crystal card welded into the metal ridges, and a handle with the face of a phoenix on it.


    Her name was Angynei and Prometheus instantly fell in love with her. He blessed her with a kiss and her eyes burst with flames, they covered her body and settled as her wings. Angynei was the first magi of the Phoenix clan, the first priestess of the Phoenix Kingdom. The rest of the candidates slowly made their way through and became the founders of the kingdom. The last of which was a young boy, only seven years old, named Nikoli. It took him almost three days to find the key and bring it to Prometheus at the altar. Nikoli was by far the youngest member of the founding generation of the Phoenix Kingdom, but he had the strongest heart. By overcoming the hardest obstacle of all, age, Nikoli sealed his fate as an integral role in the Phoenix kingdom¡¯s community and future.``


    ¡°Amongst the community, Angynei was deemed leader of the tribal commune. The reasoning being she was the first and quickest to pass the trials. Her being the Gatekeeper¡¯s counterpart was also an advantage in the decision. Together, Prometheus and Angynei ruled the early days of the Phoenix Kingdom. They bore a son named Atari and led the kingdom of Mount Fire into its golden age.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my father¡¯s name!¡± Euphrati interrupted, getting more of her history filled in as Mitakahn continued reading from the tablet.


    ¡°After years of being stuck in the cove within the mount, Prometheus began to resent his assignment. Mostly he regretted missing his son¡¯s childhood. But underneath it all, what Prometheus truly missed were the stars. When the day finally came where Prometheus could no longer guard the flame, he passed the torch to his son. As Prometheus left the altar, he instantly turned to old age. In all the years of his service he never aged. Now that his time was up, he found that his lifespan was ending. Prometheus was dying.¡±


    ¡°He was brought to the temple and was able to look upon his creations one last time before he died. With his dying eyes, Prometheus watched the sunset behind the Observatories, and left his earthly body. His spirit ascended to the stars, and he once again took up his destiny of roaming the galaxies forever. When Prometheus died, as an ode to her herald, the Phoenix blessed all her followers with the everlasting gift of immortality. As long as Prometheus¡¯ spirit flew throughout space, no one baptized in the fire of the Flame Eterna would ever die from old age.¡±


    When Mitakahn had finished, they were just coming to the sixth and final floor. This level was almost completely open. Large windowless openings gutted the walls. There were six panoramic rectangles letting the outside in. By now they were so high up that they were bordering the clouds.


    Everyone was too caught up in what was above them to notice the final floor. What seemed to be the inverse of the tower was sticking out of the bottom of a cloud above the Observatory. It looked identical to the one they were in. Except the bottom of it, which would be the top of their tower, was one giant cage-looking temple room.


    A mirror image conjured in the sky.


    Mitakahn knew, ¡°That is where we have to go.¡± As he pointed they all looked up and marveled at the magical tower, floating in the clouded sky above them. The only question was¡­how do they get up there?

 Chapter 77: Forward at all Costs

    CHAPTER 77 ¨C FORWARD AT ALL COSTS


    In the absence of the Dark Lord and the Emissary, Admiral Zorrowfold proceeded with the invasion. His acolytes stormed the frontier in an attempt to ruin any evacuation plans by House Arkenoir. He waited for one of their final council members to join him before attacking Zepathorum. Instead tossed catapult fodder at them to keep them occupied.


    The cavalry was away, but the infantry had amassed over twenty thousand soldiers, including behemoths, mongrels, cravens, siege weapons, and the Sky Marshal¡¯s stardragons, if they ever show. The War Lord Cassius commanded two thousand of his own golden troops, along with state of the art siege weapons, all imported from Crucifire Plains, the largest city in the world. The Warlord¡¯s horse was plated in very expensive golden armor, along with the two thousand soldiers, all armed with two golden short-swords, and even some of the siege equipment, like the onagers and one of the battering rams.


    The Mad Spangalore had no issue taking control of the monster regiments in the Emissary¡¯s stead. Who knew how long they would take on their quest to kill the dragon god. The Admiral knew of his master¡¯s high expectations. When the dark lord returned he would expect the invasion to be well on its way.


    The acolyte riders will have laid waste to the Serengeti towns. The siege host was amassed outside Zepathorum slowly finishing their approach. Without the Dark Lord¡¯s intervention, they had to proceed without the dark clouds to provide cover. Very soon Admiral Zorrowfold would have everything in position, and his master would be pleased with his efforts. Nothing could stop them now. The South will finally conquer the North.


    Admiral Zorrowfold found no better calling then to be the steady hand the dark lord could count on during their march north. He knew the dark lord functioned on a higher level than normal humans. His operations needed to occur in complexities interwoven and expertly executed. Right now, he assumed his master was either tying up loose ends or establishing another advantage or safeguard.


    The Admiral would be correct in assuming his master¡¯s affairs. Malinor had taken the Emissary back to the South. They stood together at the dragon temple. The Emissary rested in the corner, while the Dark Lord looked for something. Gripping and frisking the ancient architecture and arbitrary artifacts in each room. Eventually, he found the ivory black-veined skullcaller.


    This device, coupled with the correct incantation could summon the dormant dragons of the south. Long have they slept. Long ago they were put into hibernation by Patronalus, who understood the balance, and made the decision not to destroy them. Advanced applications of the skullcaller could differentiate between dragon calls, effectively activating the entire might of the brood. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Malinor brought the device out to the main altar of the temple, the one half outside, overlooking the cove. He cleared his throat and blew into it. There was no noise they could hear, but a vibration did get sent out all around them like an invisible ever-spanning ring. Malinor took a deep breath and turned the device, covering different holes with his middle fingers. When he blew this time, the sound he created was nearly deafening. Malinor steeled himself as the Emissary cried out for him to stop.


    The coves over the Barren Sea flushed out with dark winged beasts. The Morticomb Mountains in the distant east vomited conglomerations of dark wings slowly making their way towards them.


    ¡°That will do for now.¡±


    Malinor tossed the skullcaller over to the Emissary.


    ¡°You saw how I called them. Get them to Zepathorum. I have one more thing to attend to and I must do so on my own.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, exalted one.¡±


    The Emissary bowed as Malinor left him through another portal. The Dark Lord Malinor stepped out of his portal and up to the fortress at the edge of the world. This was the same place he was imprisoned many years ago. Kept down in the dungeons, with an open door to the cosmic cascade. Malinor walked up the drastically sloping thin archways. The architecture would be considered dark if it didn¡¯t consist of white stone. The twisting columns and archways coalesced with the static borders. There was a large sculpture of a headless man prostrating himself before the shifting divide, presenting a metal spear.


    Malinor pulled the spear out of the statue¡¯s grasp, releasing the spearhead from the churning multi-matter. He brought the head of the spear up to his other hand and grabbed it tight, cutting his palm open and drawing blood.


    ¡°By this I give to you and seal our fate. I will bring the fury of the South to the rest of MagnaThora, and if they somehow find it in themselves to best my formidable forces, I will only ask for your mysterious grace if all my efforts falter in vein. I am but a humble servant of the south and the void. The god of the dragons is dead, but the god of the SouthLands lives!¡±


    Malinor stabbed the blood-dipped spear back into the cosmic cascade transfusing Malinor¡¯s very essence with the great primal terror of the divide. After letting it sit like that for a moment longer he pulled it back out and left. The blood on the spearhead was gone but the glow of the divide remained. He carried the spear with him, and like an emblematic torch he would use it to bring the fire of the south upon all of MagnaThora, making all things right, revealing the truth to all. The truth behind the edge of the world.

 Chapter 78: Summoning the Banners

    CHAPTER 78 ¨C SUMMONING THE BANNERS


    The Lion Kingdom had one of the largest and oldest military standing armies in all of MagnaThora. At full strength they could call over fifty thousand soldiers to arms, but that included the entire might of Port Caliber and Zepathorum. The rest of the major and minor houses of the kingdom accounted for about thirty thousand. There was not enough time to call every single house to arms. They would be forced to focus on the largest houses.


    Long ago, in order to create a balance of power, the liege lord aspect of the throne was separated and given to the lord of Castle Rosi. Together, the two pillars of the kingdom would rule. Over time the king¡¯s army developed many layers, even a national form to deploy in aid of the Senate and other kingdoms. The way this war was waged gave them no other choice but to revert to the olden days. One simple fact of salvation remained. The liege lord must rally the banners of the kingdom in an emergency.


    Prince Axion charged the Casterosi House with fulfilling their liege lord duties, and so they set out on their mission. In the time it took them to ride out of Zepathorum City they already had a rough plan.


    ¡°You are the faster rider, my son. You must make haste to Silona City and work your way back, don¡¯t waste time, stop only for the major southern Serengeti houses, Ventrilles, Kalner, Brevitas if you can make it there. I will cover the north, House Leston, HyGard, maybe Trenoble.¡±


    ¡°HyGard?¡±


    ¡°Yes, if there¡¯s time¡­ We will meet at the middle and rally houses Arnastes and Miller. That will make for a bulk of the king¡¯s army, not quite our full potential, but what I would consider a worthy host.¡±


    ¡°Be wary of retrieving House HyGard. We are shackled by the loss of Port Caliber, father.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Not just by the city¡¯s fall, but what it cuts off from the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°I fear going north, but I know it is necessary. That is why I must go, and you take the safer road. You are the future of Castle Rosi and this kingdom.¡±


    ¡°I will not fail you, father.¡±


    ¡°We will see each other again. I promise.¡±


    Finally, beyond Zepathorum, they parted ways and Cipher turned east and then south. Mercinestor rode hard and true north. He would make quick work of the road leading from Zepathorum to Castle Rosi Island. It was hard to argue who had the tougher path ahead of them, both would be confronted by the darksiders if they were not careful. All that mattered was rallying the banners in time.


    Cipher Casterosi wasted no time crossing the Serengeti. He prudently reached Silona City and together with Lord Grastaris, sent riders to all the major and minor houses across the kingdom. Mercinestor headed north to reclaim his own house¡¯s army. Back in the river region Castle Rosi Island was a center of influence over the many towns. He could easily rally eight hundred to a thousand in the river region alone.


    It had been a long time since Cipher was this far south. Maybe during his university years, he spent time in the halls of Silona. Truth was, it had been too long for him to remember their hospitality. Cipher left his horse at the southern city and took one of House Silona¡¯s finest stallions. Being this far south, they had very good relations with the ShoreLands, even before one of the horse princesses married into the Pride.


    Before Cipher left he was stopped by Lord Grastaris. The Lord of Silona wore many rings on his fingers of all different colors: silver, gold, ruby, and diamond. He had long light brown hair and a thick red robe-like cloak.


    ¡°Where will you go first?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking Arunidawa, House Ventrilles has always been good friends of my father¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°The Zenfor archers are legendary, a worthy start.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, my lord. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me. I must be going.¡±


    ¡°I beg of you one more moment.¡±


    Cipher wondered what could be so urgent from a man he hardly knew, in a land on the other side of the country. He should have realized. When things got this out of the ordinary, it would only lead back to one common denominator. News from the border guards to the south...


    ¡°Reports have come in of a border altercation leaving multiple dead bodies.¡±


    ¡°How does this concern me, my lord?¡±


    ¡°You see, these bodies were special, young lord. Special for two reasons.¡±


    He held two fingers up, both donning the bulbous rings.


    ¡°The first being their wounds. Some were said to have been mauled by a large feline predator¡­all signs pointing to a lioness.¡±


    Cipher looked at Grastaris twice.


    ¡°And the other interesting detail is how my troops came upon the bodies. They were being hauled off. Not by their surviving counterparts. You see, there were no survivors. These were co-conspirators from an entirely different branch of a greater force.¡±


    ¡°My lord, if I am hearing you correctly, and connecting the dots where I should¡­are you saying that Prince Mitakahn was potentially sighted and assassinated on our southern border?¡±


    ¡°From what I make of all the information, it was a failed attempt by the golden syndicate. The lioness won the skirmish.¡±


    ¡°What business does a gang from the Gorilla Kingdom have trying to kill Mitakahn?¡±


    ¡°Ha, my young lord,¡± Grastaris chuckled, ¡°spoken like a true northerner. No one calls the Plains by the names of old. You sound so basic. At this rate, the city may be equal parts gorilla kingdom, canine kingdom, and lizard kingdom, a true melting pot. There is no more a gorilla kingdom then there is a wolf kingdom. These are dead concepts.¡±


    ¡°Be that as it may. This syndicate is from a city that has nothing to do with us. I fear the implications of these facts¡­ the reach this dark lord possesses over MagnaThora could have disastrous consequences.¡±


    Part of Cipher wanted to drop what he was doing right now and head in the same direction Mitakahn was believed to be sighted. If he was this close, perhaps he left more of a trail, and they could get him back to the battlefront post haste. No, Cipher had to keep to the mission. The information he received was far too vague. This could have happened days ago and by now Mitakahn could be anywhere.


    ¡°Please, young lord, take this information directly to the Queen.¡±


    ¡°Prince Axion has returned.¡±


    Lord Grastaris smiled.


    ¡°There is still hope for our kingdom yet. My host is waiting for you at the city limits. It is only three hundred spears. I¡¯m afraid it is the most I could muster. Please apologize to your father at my behest. These are grave times.¡±


    ¡°It is a good start. They will serve as the core of the army.¡±


    ¡°We take our place in the everlasting glory of our kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Praise be eternal.¡±


    Cipher gave orders to Commander Atrion to take the army up to Crescent Hills, while he rode ahead to Arunidawa, starting his sweep of the greater houses of the Serengeti, to see what he could muster. The dark cloud was growing in the North West, it was only a matter of time before he crossed paths with the dragon kingdom warriors. He could only hope that the other houses would be as cooperative and as ready as Lord Grastaris, not a fighter himself but keen to the idea of initiative.


    On the other side of the kingdom, the northern side, Lord Mercinestor finally reached the river region, he took the road as far as he could, with the darkness surrounding him in the west. At the end of the line there was something he did not expect. Mercinestor though the island would be gone. His island, his castle, his keep, his home, was staring him right in the face.


    Blessed Cipher must have done something spectacular. And he missed it! Mercinestor shook his head and then smiled, riding across the bridge, making the jump across easily on his mount, galloping through the broken portcullis. The lights on the draw bridge were no longer on. Not only that, but the bridge itself was fractured in half. It was only broken slightly, but there was a schism. The castle was abandoned. Now off the horse, he quickly made his way to the back. The Ignaleos Cor was still gone.


    The Lord of Castle Rosi Island grabbed what he could before leaving his ruined estate to fulfill his duty. The first stop would be Riverdale and then Burronese, both prominent river towns among the valleys. After that, it would be the difficult decision of whether or not to risk getting any closer to Caliber in the west. There was not much left up here in the north under the banner of House Casterosi. Even before all the travesties, most of the people were attracted to the two big cities. Castle Rosi Island inspired an entire settlement in the northern river valley, but if they really needed an army he could only muster it at the Serengeti.


    By the time Mercinestor reached Burronese he had mustered only two hundred cavalrymen. House Casterosi used to account for a decent share of the king¡¯s army, but now his own forces were dwindled. Many fled in terror after the dark lord chewed up and spit out Castle Rosi Island. He would have to find the numbers elsewhere.


    Before he left for the Serengeti, he had to survey his remaining options up here. There were two more towns of equal proportion towards Caliber, and of course, North Caliber, the mini city Axion saved during the attack on the bay. Mercinestor knew House HyGard of North Caliber accounted for one thousand swords of the king¡¯s army.


    They would be much needed, if still able to fight. Mercinestor had to make a quick decision. Send riders to North Caliber? Would he ever see them again? Maybe he had to go himself, to see to it that it gets done. Send the riders to Zepathorum, a few to help Cipher spread the word, and then one last ride against the odds. Was this the best plan Mercinestor could come up with?


    He had to be realistic, pragmatic. He had to run down the list of major and minor houses, cross-reference the largest numbers with the most easily accessible. The top of the list were: House Trenoble in Orbalis, House Leston in Quarry, House Miller of the Cubbet Downs, and House Arnastes in Crescent Hills. Together these houses were easily worth five thousand swords and spears.


    The downs and the hills ran together, the downs from north to south and the Crescent Hills from the edges of Lake Niobi to the very core of the Serengeti. He sent riders ahead already. His hopes being to recruit them on the way back, the closer they are to battle-ready the better off everyone will be. House Trenoble would be the hardest to recruit and not only due to distance. Orbalis is way out in the east of the Serengeti, a town so far into the MeadowLands, it¡¯s been ruled by four different kingdoms over all the ages of MagnaThora. The Trenoble fancied themselves independent subjects of the crown, sharing blood with the Stag Kingdom who sometimes gave off an air of being above the Pride.


    House Leston was the safer bet. Of course, the Trenoble had the better trained army, being related to Stag bloodlines they shared certain genetic benefits and prowess in the field. Mercinestor was certain he could rally them to the cause. The only problem was if he had enough time. He could probably send more riders to Quarry. It seemed this was breaking down to whether he would go for House HyGard at North Caliber or House Trenoble in Orbalis. Mercinestor had to make a decision now and stick to it. The one thousand strong in North Caliber or the Trenoble paladins?


    The only real problem with North Caliber was the river. How would he cross it and how would the army cross back? The odds were against House HyGard, but they were the best and nearest relief. This was a tough choice and could decide the tide of the battle for Zepathorum. The time to make his decision was now. East or West? Mercinestor decided and stormed off in that direction, his remaining riders followed.


    The Lord of Castle Rosi remained conservative. He could not afford to take all the chances of getting to North Caliber. He prayed that House HyGard would take it amongst themselves to send aid. Mercinestor made his way to Orbalis. Mercinestor met with Lord Arsen Trenoble, who was more than happy to provide him with his full support of five hundred paladins.


    Hearing the scouts¡¯ reports of dark rider sightings in the Serengeti was enough to be ready. Mercinestor was able to spend most of his time making the journey there and back, instead of debating or pleading for help. In that he counted his blessings and rode off to meet Cipher southeast of Lake Niobi.


    Cipher did not feel guilty laying into his horse along the Serengeti. He needed to fly across the country and this new Silona mount was a true war horse stallion. Cipher had experience around the pure breeds of the ShoreLands, the Arkenoirs being half Shorelanders and a big influence on his upbringing made him very much acquainted with horses. He knew a shore horse when he saw one. House Silona definitely had dealings with the Steed Kingdom. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Crossing over another ridge revealed the Last Prairie in the distance. Long ago, during the First Age and the time of the gods, the Lion Lorde Magnanimous, after bestowing his grace upon the Arkenorth and Casterosi houses, and the rest of the Pride, walked the Serengeti, and left this realm here. The Last Prairie or Arunidawa is a religious landmark for the devout. Before Cipher could even get to the city limits he was being escorted in by savanna lion cubs. Arunidawa was known for one other thing besides religion. This was the ancestral habitat of the native lions. You might come across a wild lion along the Serengeti, but this city was most likely where it came from.


    Cipher let the lions lead him in. They seemed to like him. They passed by a camp next to a monastery. This was clearly the archery range with practice targets lining the field next to the stone building with the belltower. The monastery had wings of rows, on one side the archery range and on the other a grid of tombstones, the cemetery. There were not many archers out practicing, but he could see them patrolling the borders. They were on high alert.


    Gathered in the courtyard appeared to be the command center, Cipher deduced. At their lead was a woman on a horse, with short black hair, uncommonly short like that of a man¡¯s haircut on one side and bangs long enough to cover the front of her face on the other side. She was the only one on horseback, a magnificent bow of crimson and white gold on her back, and a white sash with crimson inlay running across her chest. That was Kara Ventrilles, daughter of Lord Ventrilles and the only one of her house to enter the ranks of Zenfor Archer. She was well known amongst the kingdom, especially since she took command of the archers.


    Cipher continued down to the main thoroughfare, where he saw an older male lion waiting for him. The lion¡¯s mane was almost fully grown now, with some hairs fringed orange and white. It was the royal lion Maximus. He watched Cipher and waited. When Cipher approached, he slowed his horse to a trot. The royal lion brought Cipher to a stone palace built into a rising hill.


    Lord Jonovan and Kalina Ventrilles stood before the doors of the palace waiting for him. This was the home of House Ventrilles of Arunidawa.


    ¡°Welcome, lord Cipher Casterosi, of the almighty¡¯s chosen.¡±


    Cipher dismounted his horse and bowed back to them. Maximus walked up behind Cipher and nudged his back with his giant head. Cipher stumbled forward, but when the lion¡¯s mane brushed past his face he felt a comforting sensation, almost refreshing, revitalizing. The royal lion walked by the Ventrilles and into the palace, the doors big enough to fit the lion and then some. They all turned and entered the palace as well. Cipher stifled a laugh at the fact that they were blatantly following the lion as if he was ruler of Arunidawa. Cipher always heard strange tales of this place, including rumors like they listened to lions, but this was something else.


    ¡°He is taking you to the Orleop Threshi, my lord.¡±


    Cipher knew he did not have much time for this, but he felt the need to play along. He needed these people¡¯s full cooperation. He was about to make a big request. House Ventrilles was very religious. It was true that their archers were legendary amongst the kingdom, and even held in high regard for the greater MagnaThora, but there was a catch. Their devoutness to the ancient Magnanimous ways made them non-violent. One of their vows was to help others and never do harm. These were complicated times. And that¡¯s where Cipher would start his argument.


    Maximus took the three of them through the oldstone temple which led to the back of the building, the part of it that merged with the hill. Within this room was an opening into the earth, a cave. They walked through and from underground sprouted a stream. The cave was just as big as the back room, as they walked further into the hill the roof of the cave opened up to the size of a banquet hall.


    A natural path winded through the cave with the stream. The path stopped where the stream stopped, and that¡¯s where Maximus took them. There was a very disturbing oddity of nature before them. Light shined through the floor beneath the end of the stream and lifted the water up the rock. It looked like a reverse waterfall with perfect rectangular corners at the top, a door of lightwater. Maximus stopped at the door. The light reflecting in his eyes, sizzling the edges of his fur. Cipher stepped forward and the door began to hum. The door seemed to grow bigger, but it was just the light emanating from it that got brighter.


    Maximus sat next to the Orleop Threshi and looked at the three humans.


    ¡°Caliber has fallen, as you may know by now. The darksider army marches on Zepathorum, while making waste of the Serengeti. The Pride needs the help of your archers.¡±


    ¡°We are passive people here in Arunidawa. We took vows of charity and tolerance.¡±


    ¡°If we don¡¯t make a stand, all will be lost. Right now, the dark riders already descend upon your town and the rest of the Serengeti. They could be here any second.¡±


    ¡°We are prepared to defend ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Then word from Caliber did not get far enough. I was there on the beaches. I know what haunts our nation and it is a force that cannot be underestimated. I beg you to reconsider.¡±


    ¡°We cannot break our vows.¡±


    ¡°Then what good are the archers?¡±


    ¡°Zen Forgitee is an ancient form of meditation. The arrows center our presence in the here and now. The bow is balanced. A strong shot never wavers in the wind. Focus. Balance. Resilience. These are the ways of the Zenfor Archer.¡±


    ¡°You train¡­ to pray?¡±


    ¡°When the Great Lion Lorde passed through this place he changed it forever, the proof right before us. Nothing in MagnaThora is even remotely similar. The books teach of Magnanimous¡¯ eventual return, and on that day he will once again engage the portal he used to leave.``


    Cipher was beginning to put it together. They were prepared to die for the Orleop Threshi. The archers would fight when it came down to it. But that battle was to be waged in Arunidawa, not Zepathorum. This posed a major problem. The Ventrilles lacked the foresight of Cipher and Axion. The fight for the kingdom would be fought at Zepathorum, and nowhere else. That is where the forces were concentrated. Once gone, there would be nothing to stop the purging of the Serengeti. There would be no Arunidawa battle. It would be a massacre. There had to be some way to convince them.


    Maximus sat proudly and looked at them, but mainly Cipher. In fact, he was making eye-contact. And then as though the lion registered Cipher¡¯s comprehension of the situation he nodded to him. It was more like the lion bowed his head to Cipher, just his head, no other bearing. What did it mean? Why would a royal lion bow to Cipher? He was no one special. Well, that was not entirely true. He was a Casterosi, and look at what he had done with the Ignaleos Cor. He was a champion of the Pride, and even regarded as a religious figure. He had some clout here. He needed to draw upon it for his persuading.


    ¡°I understand the obligation of a holy plight. My family are not only direct descendants of Magnanimous-¡±


    At the very mention of the lion god¡¯s name both Lord and Lady Ventrilles got down on one knee, nodding their heads, praising the lion lord, and returning to their feet.


    ¡°Not only that, but we were the guardians of the Ignaleos Cor. One of the kingdom¡¯s oldest treasures.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®were¡¯?¡±


    ¡°The same man that destroyed Caliber and marches on Zepathorum infiltrated the Corscape and with it the Ignaleos Cor, me and my father barely escaped with our lives trying to save it.¡±


    ¡°The Ignaleos Cor has been lost?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Lady Ventrilles stepped forth and waved her hands. They were old incantations. After the Age of the Warlocks, rune casting and basic magic were adopted across the kingdoms of MagnaThora. The Ventrilles were using spell bindings to manipulate the doorway. Cipher was fascinated. It reminded him a lot of how he tampered with the Cor. What did it mean that his oblivious tinkering shared the same traits as warlock magic?


    ¡°Threshi and the Cor have had a symbiotic relationship throughout history,¡± Lady Ventrilles said, ¡°We felt those tremors the day you lost the Cor, and now we finally know why. I have always wondered¡­if I could reverse the pulse, perhaps a link can be formed. ¡±


    Suddenly something snapped in the atmosphere around her, and a translucent ring of air appeared before her.


    ¡°I can see it¡­and¡­it is in danger. The Ignaleos Cor is suffocating.¡±


    The ring stood vertically, facing the door. Kalina pushed the ring forward, circle slamming against the rectangle.


    ¡°This form of travel is very temperamental and untested. We have no idea what the cost in relativity is. We¡¯ve never gotten this far before.¡±


    ¡°What my wife is trying to say my lord, is-¡±


    ¡°This won¡¯t just bridge space, but time as well,¡± said Cipher.


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    ¡°There is no other way. I will take the risk.¡±


    Something called to Cipher. He knew the right thing to do would be to spare the Ignaleos Cor and ensure the banners of the Pride are mustered for Zepathorum, to save all that he held dear. The Ignaleos Cor was Cipher Casterosi¡¯s birthright. The elusive gem was in his blood, and it called to him.


    ¡°I will keep the portal open for as long as I can.¡±


    The light water swirled in the doorway and all of a sudden different colors rushed inward. They mixed together, wild blue, reds, and yellows, clashing and blending into browns and tan. The tan brightened, dissolved into infinitesimal morsels, and grew coarse, while some blue remained in the middle and swirled into a sphere. There the Ignaleos Cor sat on a bed of sand. Without any hesitation Cipher stepped forward through the door and into the desert.


    ¡°Wait!¡± the Ventrilles yelled, as they were cut off by the shift in atmosphere.


    He was in the SandLands, south near the Great Gate.


    The Ignaleos Cor was pale blue. The inside of it looked dried up as if about to crack. It did not budge off the sandy ground. Cipher had no water on him. Except, that is, for all the lightwater splashing together as it churned around the portal behind him. Cipher ran back over to the portal and tried to cup the bright water churning around the ring. It was roiling so fiercely it was almost solid and impossible to scoop off. His hand was barely getting wet, but down by the sand the light water was splashing the ground.


    He took a step towards the Cor and looked back at the portal. The other side was black. The portal was still open. But what were grays, browns, and a line of blue at the bottom of the portal before was now mostly just black. Cipher looked closer. He was wrong. There was not just blurry black on the other side of the portal but twisting reds. He panicked and rushed back to the Cor sitting in the sand.


    Cipher dug out the sand before and under the Cor so it would roll down to the dune back towards the portal. He ran down alongside it and at the moment of contact with the swirling light water Cipher kicked the Cor up off the floor and into his hands. Some of the light water splashed onto Cipher, even getting on his face and in his hair. He could feel it on him like a weight. Not much like a burden, but its gravity was different from everything else. He walked back through the portal and Lady Kalina Ventrilles clapped her hands together, closing the doorway. It dropped to the ground, no light, no reverse waterfall, just a regular stream.


    Lady Ventrilles dropped by the doorway. Shadows of fire could be seen down the cavern hall. What concerned Cipher most of all was that Lord Jonovan was nowhere to be found. That could only mean one thing. He was leading the fight against the enemy. Even Maximus was no longer in the cavern room. Lady Ventrilles coughed. He looked down, her side painted red. Cipher helped her get comfortable. She was clearly wounded. What happened here? How long was he away for?


    Cipher tried to clean the wound. He had no idea how deep it was. While he got more water from the stream he saw the dead darksiders along the ground leading back to the palace. They had gotten all the way into this room at some point. Chances are, it was a massacre outside. Cipher got back to Lady Ventrilles, and she was dead. The wound was fatal. Praise be eternal, she was able to keep the portal open through all that pain.


    Swords clashing and screams came from down the tunnel, back in the palace. He could hear the fighting and see the fires. Arunidawa was under attack. Cipher panicked. He no longer cared about how many reinforcements he could muster. He worried about getting back to his father alive. There was only one upside to all this, and Cipher was looking right at it¡­the return of the Ignaleos Cor.


    The drops of light water on his face and in his hair began to glow. Cipher screamed and fell over, catching himself before hitting the ground, struggling to stay on his feet. It burned immensely, whatever was happening to him. The light water seemed to be rejecting him. It merged together on his face. He clasped his own face with both hands. The light water migrated to his right hand and formed together around his wrist, perfectly around his wrist. Cipher stopped panicking and composed himself. Breathing heavily, he raised his right hand and opened his eyes. the light faded from his wrist revealing the wrist-switch he had created for the Cor.


    Cipher composed himself. He turned the switch on his wrist and the Cor vanished. He turned it again and the Ignaleos Cor reappeared in his hand. Cipher exhaled and threw the crystal blue ball up in the air a couple times. The last time he threw it up and activated the wrist-switch and it disappeared. It felt good to have it back amongst all this devastation. Cipher returned to Lady Ventrilles and closed her eyes, before laying a crimson and white cloak over her that he found amongst the frays. He drew his sword and left the Orleop Threshi room.


    Cipher got back out to the main palace, and it was just as unsettling as Port Caliber. The palace was on fire. He navigated through the rooms, trying to squeeze through broken walls without getting burned. The main hallway was wrought with burning cinders and collapsed ceilings. Out front of the palace Lord Ventrilles led some of own guard in a skirmish while the Zenfor archers laid waste to the approaching darksiders. Not only were there riders ransacking the town, but a regiment of the actual Dragon Kingdom army was settling Arunidawa ablaze. This was a focused attack.


    Cipher looked around. His horse was nowhere to be found, likely dead. He had to get a mount and get out of here as soon as possible. Mercinestor was most likely waiting for him at the rendezvous point. Cipher slowly made his way to where the archers were stationed. He watched Lord Ventrilles fight the good fight in the center of town. He expertly positioned the archers on the ridge for maximum cover.


    In between Cipher and the ridge of archers were two dark riders. One held a crooked sword. The other one swung a mace. They both kicked their black horses in Cipher¡¯s direction. He held his sword tight and thought of a fight strategy. Before the riders could meet Cipher in the field and ferocious blur tackled them both off their mounts in an instant. Cipher capitalized. The one holding his crooked sword managed to stay on his feet, but it was not enough against the lion. Maximus swiped his claws clean through the acolyte¡¯s body, his guts spilling the floor. The other rider tried to pick up his mace when Cipher¡¯s foot caught him in the back of the head. The acolyte tumbled over, and Cipher brought down his sword in a kill stroke.


    Maximus lingered for a second and then looked at Cipher. With little hesitation, Cipher took the cue and mounted the royal lion. They engaged the skirmish with Lord Ventrilles, giving him and his troop a burst of renewed vigor. They fought bravely to the last man. Lord Ventrilles knew it was a lost cause. There were more enemy lines approaching from the northern hills.


    ¡°Take them!¡± Lord Ventrilles yelled.


    ¡°We must not lose hope. We can all get through this.¡±


    ¡°Tell the would-be king that I was wrong to resist my oaths. I will redeem myself now though. House Ventrilles will play its part in the final chapter of this kingdom. My daughter Kara leads the Zenfor, tell her to leave with you, and we will hold them off. Take this.¡±


    Lord Jonovan Ventrilles took off his crimson and white cloak and handed it to Cipher on Maximus. He returned to the fight, looking back one more time.


    ¡°Tell my daughter I love her and trust her to rebuild Arunidawa.¡±


    ¡°May the Lion Lorde await you in the AfterLight, in eternal glory.¡±


    Cipher made his way to the ridge and with only a little resistance convinced Kara Ventrilles of her father¡¯s orders. He presented her with the cloak, and she fell to her knees crying. Her men put the cloak on her, and she got back to her feet, not a tear in her eye. She rallied her remaining forces and withdrew from Arunidawa. It was the hardest thing Kara Ventrilles would ever have to do and she would never forget it. Kara would carry the burns of Arunidawa for her entire life. She regretted her parents decision not to heed Cipher¡¯s warnings. So, she pledged herself and the might of her house to him, and in return Cipher vowed to help her return to Arunidawa, if they survive.


    After Arunidawa, Kallington, and Brevingdale, Cipher was no longer feeling that optimistic. He only mustered twenty five hundred so far, most of which from Arunidawa and Silona. The rest of the force would have to come from the north with his father, or central Serengeti, between House Arnastes and House Miller. Their two houses held dominion over several different towns in the respective regions. This made for good recruitment opportunities.


    By the time Mercinestor arrived at the Crescent Hills, his son was waiting for him. Their armies were still amassing, and it would take some time to organize everyone, but the final numbers were coming in. Already Mercinestor could see it on his son¡¯s face.


    Something was deeply wrong within the kingdom. The people were scared. The fall of the king left a vast void, and now they were all paying the price. Mercinestor mustered two hundred from his northern region. Orbalis¡¯ five hundred paladins coupled with an embarrassing five hundred each from House Leston, Miller, and Arnastes, added to twenty five hundred from Arunidawa to Silona. That was almost an army of five thousand soldiers total.


    If they waited longer Mercinestor was sure they could increase those numbers significantly. What he really wanted to do was give the vassals the opportunity to show their allegiance. He knew if he waited until day end they would round Lake Niobi ten thousand strong. The dark riders were running rampant through the kingdom causing people to flee or fight on their own.


    Once word got out that the army was forming, maybe that would change the tide. The times still seemed dark. The clouds from Caliber were now scattered across the Serengeti, even the fires of Caliber seemed to be spreading, none of which bode well for Zepathorum. Soon Lord Mercinestor Casterosi would have to make another difficult decision. He already regretted not going to House HyGard in North Caliber. Would he make the right choice on when to leave for Zepathorum? The survival of the very kingdom was at the hands of Mercinestor Casterosi.

 Chapter 79: Inferno of Faith

    CHAPTER 79 ¨C INFERNO OF FAITH


    Mitakahn moved everyone through the outside courtyard after there was no clear way to get to the Cloud Tower. Where their tower ended, it was almost as if a looking glass divided them from the Cloud Tower, the perfect reflection, save clouds instead of the ground. The winds kicked up and they went further inside. There was a bridge they hadn¡¯t noticed before, over a wide river of¡­ lava separating them from the other side of the tower, which had three tubular cases coiling together and leading up. That was where they needed to go. Somehow the tower was channeling the volcano way up here at the top. This was ancient technology. The sun began to set. It had been a long day. Mitakahn wondered what the catch would be. The horizontal shine of the sun¡¯s tiring rays began to burn away the bridge over the lava.


    ¡°RUN!¡± yelled Mitakahn as they all sprinted with haste over the bridge.


    Anilithion was first across with Mitakahn, followed by Bridger, and Excelsior and Euphrati both riding Orion. Kunezar was behind them, but in front of Tron, and finally Humbler, with his heavy footsteps pounding the bridge into the lava. Humbler, now moving as fast as he could to avoid the decaying bridge, was not used to abrupt slowdowns and ran into his friends.


    They were swept off the ground by the suction of the tubes¡¯ vacuum and sucked up into the spiraling tubes. Bridger was first. Anilithion lifted off his feet, and instinctively drew his whip, latching onto a railing, saving himself. Orion backed away, but the sheer force of the suction was too much, and his legs gave free. Anilithion grabbed a hold of Mitakahn¡¯s arm as Excelsior blew by, with Orion and Euphrati. Humbler along with Kunezar and Tron were all sucked into another tube.


    Mitakahn looked at Anilithion holding on and said, ¡°This time we let go, Ani!¡± as he released his cousin¡¯s arm and flew into the tube after everyone.


    Anilithion took a deep breath, the wind from the vacuum still pulling at his body, and relinquished the whip¡¯s grip on the railing, letting him loose.


    Inside the middle tier of the top penthouses of the Observatory, Mitakahn got up and found some of his fellow travelers around him. Euphrati woke up beside Orion and Excelsior. He helped up Anilithion. A template was placed in the middle of the roof house.


    When Mitakahn got close enough he could see that it was the second part of Prometheus¡¯ legend. There was nothing else in the room, just thin clear-glass columns lining the entire perimeter. Technically walls, but when Mitakahn walked forward the movement revealed the outside sun-setting sky. Mitakahn could not figure out what to do. Soon, they all gathered around the embedded tablet stumped. Euphrati had even managed to hang onto the Prometheus Key, but there was nowhere to put it. There were no more options, and they were running out of time.


    The sun was approaching the Temple of Fire in the distance as it set. There had to be some trick to it, but neither Mitakahn, nor anyone else, could think of anything. Mitakahn felt the sun''s glimmer of fleeting waves on his face. He meditated on the energy, both positive and neutral; and how before it was in the right place at the right time during the mass. Perhaps this was the same as that in some way? But what could he possibly do to deduce the time?


    Mitakahn expressed his ideas to his friends. Euphrati and Anilithion thought it was a good idea. Excelsior questioned how they would be able to apply it. No one had an answer, another dead end. Maybe the other two groups were having better luck. Unfortunately, they were not. Bridger was alone in the first penthouse tower on his knees before the introductory part of the legend tablet embedded in the middle of the floor.


    On the rightmost tier, Tron, along with Humbler, and Kunezar also sat on the flat glass around the last installment of the Prometheus Legend, trying to figure out a solution. It was neither of these two groups that would be able to. No, the center tier with the Prometheus Key was the only way out and to move on. But neither Mitakahn, nor anyone else would be able to decipher the final puzzle.


    A brief stretch of time passed which felt like an eternity to the group. A pregnant silence took hold, flooding Mitakahn with anxiety. He could not afford to lose any more time on this. What were they to do? What were they missing? Was it possible their combined wits were not enough? A wave of hubris departed Mitakahn as his own self-awareness kicked in. He would not lose hope.


    Out from the clouded sky came their deliverance. Chronis, the silver-tipped hawk flew into the tower and landed next to Mitakahn. He fluttered the feathers on the back of his head and dipped his head before Mitakahn, as if to bow. After that he hopped over to Euphrati and bowed again.


    ¡°Euphrati, I think he wants the key¡­¡±


    Chronis took the Prometheus Key in his mouth and flew over to the side of the room closest to the setting sun. He connected the handle of the phoenix¡¯s face with the rays of sunshine beaming through the Temple of Fire with his tail. The angle reflected off the phoenix¡¯s eyes and caught the crystal tablet.


    The tablet caught aglow, and a red beam burst into the sky. The red glow seemed to spread like wildfire into each of the other tiers, and then through the tower roof. The red beam flew straight up into the sky and connected to the tower floating above him. Everything began to shake. The tower roofs opened up and unlatched as they grew closer together.


    Both the Observatory that the company was in and the Observatory in the clouds stretched as if the entire picture skewed. The walls fully opened up, connecting the three penthouses, reuniting the group, while the tower increasingly climbed into the air. The floating Observatory in the clouds opened up and enclosed around them. Everyone else fell back as Mitakahn rose to his feet, and the two towers connected, cutting off all light. The ground was far too crooked. When the two Observatories finished connecting the floor snapped right. Everyone, already unbalanced, were once again taken off their feet (this time including Mitakahn).


    The floor shifted below them and then gave out. But there was a wall of metal bars keeping them in. The original Observatory shrunk back to the mountains, returning to normal, regaining its roof. Chronis flew onto Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder and dropped the key in his hand. He cawed and fluttered his wings, re-adjusting his stance. Mitakahn looked forward and saw a giant wooden boat, with six paddles waiting for them.


    Orion and Euphrati got in the middle of the boat as Mitakahn, Anilithion, and Excelsior picked up paddles, and Tron, Kunezar, Bridger, and Humbler pushed off. They rode the sunrays back down towards the temple. That was the way that Prometheus¡¯ recruits went. This had to be the end of their path.


    The sunrays gradually turned to a river of molten hot lava and began burning the bottom of the boat. Halfway there and the smoke was sizzling through their seats. The company now had to scatter around the edges of the crumbling boat. Chronis flew from Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder when things began to get too hot. The lava was being rapidly fed, morphing into fiery embers and red hot coals.


    They would soon be passing the Temple and have one shot at jumping over before their boat burned entirely away; that is, if they wanted to give up on the trials and their mission.


    After all this, how could they give up now? But would it be worth possibly burning to death? Mitakahn remembered the third rule of the trials, ¡°to know that the Phoenix has all her disciples¡¯ best interests in mind.¡±


    The temple dock passed, and no one jumped off. Instead, the boat was gone, disintegrated, and everyone had to walk on the blisteringly hot floor. Running for dear life and sprinting to avoid as much pain as possible. It was the most vulnerable who raced ahead of the curve. Orion, not wearing any shoes or boots, was suffering tremendously as the flames burned the pads on his paws. He ran ahead, as everyone else succumbed to the disintegration of the soles of their shoes.


    What was only a short distance of maybe seven paces, seemed like a lifetime to the broken company. Kunezar and Anilithion were trying to help up Humbler as Euphrati, Tron, Bridger, and Excelsior crawled on their elbows and knees in one last attempt. Their skin started to blister and burn. It was only Mitakahn who was still on his feet. Mumbling in dire hopes, ¡°It¡¯s just a test¡­just a test¡­¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    He let out a scream of agony that could have been heard around the world as he tried to put the key in. A hole opened for it and took its turn. But the wall of the glass-fire did not open. Instead, a voice came out of nowhere and beckoned onto them, ¡°For your fifth and final trial, solve this question of awareness under fire¡­


    ¡°What did the Phoenix tell Prometheus the importance of her being was?¡±


    ¡°Her mere presence in the world alone was responsible for¡­¡± yelled Euphrati, trying to recall the rest.


    ¡°The orbit around the sun,¡± yelped Tron.


    Humbler fell over to his side, sucked of all energy, ready to give up and die.


    ¡°The progression of time,¡± added Excelsior as he crawled to Orion, and lifted the pup¡¯s head off the burning hot floor and onto his own chest.


    ¡°The shifting of the tectonic plates and the innermost heat of the planet¡¯s core,¡± rattled off Bridger as he finished their answer.


    Was it only those four things? They no longer had the templates to check. They could only rely on memory. Was that good enough to keep them alive? The fire consumed them all.


    The wall of fire lowered to reveal a beautiful dark amber archway. Inside the archway was the great eternal altar. The company slowly tried to get to their feet. They walked under the arches and into the altar room. As they passed through the arches they were completely healed, and their clothes looked as though they were never burnt. The pain imploded into headaches and then vanished, quickly forgotten. Orion danced around like he was shaking off the frightful memory5.


    The archway had cleansed them of the lava river trial, their final trial. The Keymaster trials were over, and they had finally made it to the Flame Eterna. There waiting for them in the altar room, sat one of the most famous warriors and guardians of all time.


    The Great Lord Nikoli, Gatekeeper of the Flame Eterna, sat with eternal youth and devotion to its safety and essence. They walked up the slow ledge of stairs. Orion kept at Excelsior¡¯s heel, recognizing the special occasion. The Great Lord of the Phoenix Kingdom sat in his chamber in a chair carved out of the cavern wall, big enough only for the titan himself to sit on, silently awaiting their arrival¡­


    Legend of the Phoenix


    Long ago, when the world of man was first created, the same power that forged the fire of the white sun created a phoenix. The Phoenix was created by the gods to watch over the will of man. The mighty creature was both supernatural and material. A grand beast, it was the original ancestor of the bird species, a primordial version of the many different kinds of bird that inhabited these lands today.


    The gods sculpted the Phoenix with detailed feathers of flame. And a powerful crimson beak to rest its large withholding eyes upon. The Phoenix¡¯s shape and appearance were constantly morphing and changing, as wild as a brushfire. The fire it emitted burned so bright it brought a golden shine to all that surrounded it. The magical bird lived in its own constant fire, continually flowing out and around the SkyLorde¡¯s body. Its nature was purely divine.


    This Phoenix was a god itself. She represented the sun, which was the earth¡¯s compass. The flying spirit kept balance in her domain, everything under the sun in space and on MagnaThora. She flew through the world and carved the mountains with its noble flame. The Phoenix founded the Burning Mountains and engraved its home in the highest peak: Mount Fire.


    The only thing she left behind was this flame that burns without end. When the great Lorde Alphatross comes into this world for a flight it is always a voyage of purpose and significance. When her mission is over the sunbird burns out. Her ashes sink deep into the ground. They soak into the earth; and, over time, return to Mount Fire¡­


    ? ? ?


    ¡°¡­This celestial candle is the heart of our order. This is where the Phoenix rebirths and re enters into our domain. You see the flame is very special to all of us. The Phoenix keeps life and spirit alive in this world. Its light is essential to our survival. That is why we never leave the mountain and always worship and defend to keep it alive. It is a symbiotic relationship we live with the Phoenix, Lorde Alphatross.¡±


    ¡°We all devote our lives to the Flame of the Phoenix, and because of that we are blessed with long healthy lives, and these magnificent wings of fire. I am the leader of this kingdom, and accordingly I am the strongest. That is why it is my responsibility to never leave this place. I am Nikoli, Gatekeeper of the Divine Source.¡±


    Mitakahn digested the words of the saint and bowed to one knee. The rest followed. They paid homage to his sacrifice.


    ¡°Do you have the Prometheus Key?¡± Nikoli called for.


    Mitakahn presented him with the Prometheus Key by lifting it above his head.


    Nikoli laughed, took the key, and said, ¡°Take your feet brave Prince, and tell me why you have traveled all this way, be it not for pilgrimage.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­my lord, first I thank you for sending your priests to my father¡¯s funeral. They provided a proper ceremony for his farewell. But I come with disparaging news. The darkness is back. The ancient evil that plagued this land long ago has returned and invaded my kingdom. They sailed the forbidden pass and successfully navigated the straits, avoiding the chasm. Soon the shadow will devour our lands and infect the rest of MagnaThora. There is not much time left,¡± confessed Mitakahn.


    ¡°What is it¡­ that you want me to do? We have no army and we do not wish to intervene in the affairs of foreign nations.¡±


    ¡°We do not come to ask for your allegiance,¡± interrupted Excelsior, ¡°Because we already know your answer. Our reasons for our travels are much¡­grander.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me Wanderer, what is the true reason for your company?¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn has been selected by the combined wisdom of the gods to turn the page of history. His dreams have foretold the tragedies that have terrorized his land, and there is one more piece to the puzzle¡­¡± preluded Excelsior.


    ¡°It has come to our understanding that a magical sword exists and could be the key to my nation¡¯s rescue-¡±


    ¡°You speak of the Sword of Heroes¡­The Crucifire Sword. It is a myth of old, nothing more.¡± Nikoli quickly interrupted Mitakahn, attempting to put the legend to bed.


    ¡°It is here. The gods practically told me so!¡± countered Mitakahn.


    ¡°The gods.. have talked to you?¡± scoffed Nikoli.


    ¡°It was the goddess Epiphany, who came to me when we were at the Temple of Virtue,¡± continued Mitakahn.


    ¡°The Temple of Virtue? You found the actual temple? And talked to the goddess, herself? Well then, it seems as though I have underestimated you. But I¡¯m afraid¡­If the Crucifire Sword was here, I would have found it by now. I know this place inside and out,¡± reasoned Nikoli.


    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± argued Mitakahn.


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°You were never looking for it¡­¡± explained Mitakahn.


    ¡°Are there any other crevices or caves besides this room?¡± asked Tron.


    ¡°No, this is the only room,¡± answered Nikoli.


    ¡°Then there is only one place left to look¡­¡± Mitakahn closed his vision in on the Flame Eterna.


    There it was, in front of him burning from the fuel of collective faith. Mitakahn approached the flame. It burned upon an altar carved out of the mountain. The flame did not spawn from any point. Rather, it sat upon the altar, a being in itself.


    Mitakahn¡¯s world grew dark around him. All that remained were him and the flame. He walked closer to it. The solution was close now. He could feel it. He had followed blind faith up until now, leading him to this very point. It would not make much sense if faith did not come into play for this final step. Chronis landed on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder and it became clear to him. The silver gauntlet shifted into place around his hand. A brief doubt shot down the back of his mind. The gauntlet was flame retardant and not fireproof. It mattered not.


    This had to be it.


    Everything slowed down.


    Mitakahn looked down at his left hand, believing this would not be for the last time. He closed his eyes, and reached into the flame, searching for a grip...

 Ninth Interlude: Abandoned

    <h2> </h2>


    NINTH INTERLUDE ¨C ABANDONED


    Malinor was pulled out of his prison cell. The room at the edge of the world. He hated being here. He wanted to leave, but deep down he knew he had nowhere to go. He couldn¡¯t go home. He couldn¡¯t ever go back, not after what he had done. Since then, he had found little reprieve elsewhere, no new place to call his own. To the extent where he found himself¡­ where no man has gone before, the SouthLands. His waywardness finally led him to a fitting end. He would die trapped in a fortress before the last great terror of MagnaThora, the divide, and what lay beyond.


    Thankfully, he was momentarily spared from his madness and taken from the prison room. The guards dragged them before their captain. The man stationed and in charge. Captain Zorrowfold stepped forth and judged Malinor. He didn¡¯t look like very much. Zorrowfold immediately dismissed Malinor.


    ¡°You let this beggar trick you into coming here?¡±


    ¡°I thought you would welcome the company, captain.¡±


    ¡°Your company is rarely preferable, Spangalore. Tell me there is a valid reason for your intrusion.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my dear captain, you have held this station for too long and it has taken its toll, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡°The only light that matters down here is that which mixes with the darkness of the divide.¡±


    ¡°It almost sounds like you worship it.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, scum?¡±


    Malinor looked up at Zorrowfold and repeated himself, ¡°It almost sounds like you worship the divide.¡±


    ¡°We serve the dragon lord Dracobra.¡±


    ¡°All of this¡­¡± Malinor gestured around him, getting more comfortable, ¡°you do for a god that has abandoned you for centuries?¡±


    ¡°Its called faith, northgate, we would not expect you to understand our ways.¡±


    ¡°I know faith. And I know when it is deserved and wasted. You worship a god that was bested by a man.¡±


    ¡°You offer an alternative, northsider?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­.Worship me!¡±


    Both Spangalore and Zorrowfold laughed. They almost embraced each other in the utter absurdity of Malinor¡¯s brazen proclamation. Truly the audacity of northern men remained unyielding. Spangalore could not help but continue to amuse him.


    ¡°Why would we worship you?¡±


    ¡°What would the likes of you possibly have to offer us?¡±


    ¡°How about a new job?¡±


    Zorrowfold stopped laughing.


    ¡°You hold no power. There is nothing here but jokes.¡±


    Malinor tried to get to his feet.


    The guards by the doors grabbed their swords, but Zorrowfold waved them off. The poor man showed no signs of being a threat to them.


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t take me seriously.¡±


    Spangalore let go of a guilty laugh, ¡°Take you seriously? I brought you here to kill you.¡±


    Malinor lowered his head.


    ¡°How about a bargain?¡±


    ¡°What could you possibly have to offer?¡±


    ¡°It appears as though¡­only my life.¡±


    ¡°You brought a smile to my colleagues face. One I have not seen in years. For that alone this trip has been worth it. I know we bust each other¡¯s chops, but I do think very fondly of Captain Zorrowfold here. He is the true beacon of the strength that has dwindled from this kingdom. So, tell us¡­what do you have in mind?¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spent a couple of nights now staring into the void. It is truly a vicious and tormenting lot down here at the edge of the world. Your charge is a complete waste of time. What are you guarding against? Has the thing ever moved? Have you ever sent anyone into it?¡±


    Spangalore¡¯s ears perked up after hearing that last question.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been down here for a couple of days and that¡¯s already what I have come up with. You have lived your lives down here ready to spend the rest of it guarding something you barely comprehend. I¡¯m offering you the use of my life in the name of discovery and if I somehow make it through this¡­I only ask for your undying allegiance.¡±


    This time the other two men did not laugh. They looked at each other, both checking to see if the other knew what Malinor was referring to. So, he made it easy for them. He said it outright.


    ¡°I will walk into the void.¡±


    ¡°You offer it willingly? Death by the hands of the divide?¡±


    ¡°No man has ever required such a fate. It would be sacrilege.¡±


    Spangalore smiled.


    ¡°Deal,¡± he said, before continuing, ¡°You just might be the craziest person I know, northgate.¡±


    Malinor didn¡¯t know how he felt about that.


    ¡°And let¡¯s say you somehow miraculously make it back here alive. What do you intend to do with our undying loyalty?¡±


    ¡°Rule.¡±


    ¡° I cannot believe I¡¯m actually considering this. How did a kingdomless scum like you even get here?¡±


    ¡°Your lord and master sent me.¡±


    For the first time since he moved south of the great gate someone looked like they were actually about to believe him.


    ¡°How else do you think I passed through an unbreakable gate? By now your scouts must have reported back. The great gate to the north is intact and there¡¯s been no sign of tampering. My chariot is the lie you refuse to believe. Your god chose an outsider to rule you instead of one of your own because you are so lost.¡±


    ¡°It cannot be.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough. Toss this heretic into the divide.¡±


    ¡°Then we have a deal?¡± Malinor yelled as the guards grabbed him and Zorrowfold walked out of the room. ¡°Do we have a deal?!¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    The guards took Malinor outside. Spangalore couldn¡¯t help but chase after them. It felt like it was raining, like they were in the middle of the storm, but there was no moisture. The stairs leading up to the outer wall of the fortress were short. Malinor thought he would have more time before he was tossed away, like a corpse.


    He slammed into a stone floor after falling for only a second. He was not expecting that. Malinor took his time getting to his knees. There was nothing around him. This was a lower wall, as the fortress sat on the edge of the final cliff in MagnaThora, beyond it the great void of the divide. Malinor looked out across his hellish horizon. The world looked upside-down down here. An inverted take on MagnaThora, the VoidLands would drive anyone insane. That must be why the fortress had little windows. Malinor strangely loved it. He thought it was beautiful. He brushed his pants off, getting to his feet.


    ¡°Guess I¡¯m waiting for high tide.¡±


    He heard a laugh from above. Spangalore was standing there, watching him.


    ¡°Any tricks to this?¡±


    No answer.


    ¡°You must be here for the show then.¡±


    It was dark, but Malinor could¡¯ve sworn he saw a smirk on Spangalore¡¯s face. Suddenly, behind him the horizon began to topple and tip over, spilling out all sorts of wild cosmic energy into the divide. It looked like effervescent waves crashing into each other, explosions in space. They ripped and tore at reality, grabbing a hold of four eyes. The crashing white against amethyst mixing together in their pupil, entrancing them. Malinor walked forth. Spangalore could not turn away. Malinor walked right off the lower wall. Spangalore stayed where he was. He was paralyzed in bewilderment. With his eyes, he followed Malinor down and the tendrils of the void reached back up into them, both Malinor, and Spangalore¡¯s eyes, invading his mind.


    ¡°AH! AH! NO! AHAHAHA!¡±


    Finally, he tore himself away, literally tore at his own face, trying to get himself to stop laughing uncontrollably. Spangalore stumbled away, forever changed.


    Malinor fell into the great void. The mix of churning water from the sea, fiscus smoke from the mountains, molten lava from the volcanos, and the hard line of the horizon surged together to create a cosmic fringe to MagnaThora. Malinor fell into it and it burned. Two kinds of burning he felt, the pain of his flesh on fire, and the exhilaration of something he had never felt before, anticipation fused with curiosity all before the mystery of the void.


    Malinor fell into oblivion and wondered if he would be the first to find out what was on the other side of MagnaThora. He took a deep breath and prayed he didn¡¯t die. He got this far by being lost. What was one more ancient mystery unraveled? Malinor pushed himself to see through the pain and open his eyes. Malinor pressed on where no other man would. Something drove the man to what others would consider insanity. He was missing a piece of himself, and that desperation drove him to unsavory ends. Malinor tested not only his own but the physical boundaries all around him. What could possibly lay before him on this journey besides a quick death?


    He begged for death, knowing full well it would not come. Malinor was almost suffocated by a blinding light that brought him back to reality, one not of his own. He looked around and could tell immediately that he was no longer in MagnaThora.

 Tenth Interlude: Stow & Simmer

    TENTH INTERLUDE ¨C STOW & SIMMER


    Patronalus finished his work on MagnaThora. Once he felt that the wounds of the war were resolved he began his quest for enlightenment. After completing the temple, it was clear to him that he did not know enough to be considered a god. He might have god like strength and ability enough to smack around dragons and construct wonders but that was not enough for him. He need to know more. He needed to know everything.


    His first stop was Mount Fire to inform the warden who he had locked in the cellar. Patronalus climbed into the Flame Eterna and aligned his being with Lorde Alphatross, fusing his essence with the Phoenix, merging entirely and assuming each other¡¯s knowledge, memory, and experience. Patronalus learned what it felt to be infinite and the divine source within him, same as the Phoenix and the founder gods. That very same sliver found inside every human, animal and living thing on Magnathora, that of the Supreme Dichotomy.


    Patronalus now knew how the demigods were created and how the founder gods did it. The reason why they were created still perplexed him. In all the information from the Phoenix it was most subjective. It was a beast. It told him what it saw and neglected context. For that he would have to go to the gods who knew humans a little better, the great Grey Wolfe, Entehii and the Lorde Lion Magnanimous.


    In the ruins of Corinth Hall, lost within the Forgotten Forest, the wolf¡¯s last den hid from all who knew the god. He no longer trusted his own kin. Ever since the darkness infiltrated the serpent and corrupted it into the dragon, his faith in his counterparts failed. Any of them could be compromised. But Entehii sure did love Patronalus, a humble champion of the human race, unassuming, gracious and eager to learn.


    They spent long nights in the woods and the Grey Wolfe shared his wisdom with the young god. He told him all there was to know about the Crucifire King and lords of old, their greatest triumphs and their biggest weaknesses. The Wolfe¡¯s tales combined with the Phoenix¡¯s memories rendered a complete picture of the past. Of all the lessons he learned from what the two gods told him, he took away one important tip above all, he needed to insure the future of the human race and his legacy of grace, this concluded in leaving the Crucifire Sword behind on MagnaThora.


    Once again, the man was given all the power in the world and gave it up without a second thought. He walked away from the same sword that granted his very divinity, the sword that gave him all his fire to fight against Dracobra. But then again, it was not the sword that defeated the dragon god. Patronalus now had no qualms with leaving the majestic firepower to be an instrument of the future.


    Patronalus¡¯ final stop was the Serengeti where he met with the Lion Lorde Magnanimous. The kind and gracious golden hair host sat with Patronalus on the grass, the wind blowing through his glistening blond mane. He watched the lion¡¯s hair. It almost sparkled. It looked the same as his fire when he spreads it around his body. Although they were different godforces, they were all made of the same kind, the spirit of MagnaThora.


    ¡°What do you wish to learn from me that you have not yet learned from my brethren already, little lord?¡± the Lion said.


    ¡°After everything I have learned I only wonder what drove you and Dracobra from the sea?¡± asked Patronalus.


    The Lion kept staring off into the horizon. He closed his buttery eyes. Even the fur on his eyelids looked softer than a plainsmere rug. The blond of the Lion¡¯s eyelashes matched the hair on top of Patronalus¡¯ head. He caught the Lion looking at it the same way he admired Magnanimous¡¯ mane. But when cats look at people it always looks like they don¡¯t care. All the same he thought for some time and then answered Patronlaus¡¯ question.


    ¡°It¡¯s not something I¡¯ve had to talk about, after all this time. Once the countryside became a better fit for me, everything changed, and it didn¡¯t matter anymore. To answer your question the darkness drove us out. At the time I didn¡¯t realize it, but it didn¡¯t stop there.


    Legend of the Chasm


    The ocean depths make up the vast majority of the world. There was simple not enough for both the sea lion and sea serpent to cover. In one of the darkest depths outside the coast of the Atlas Mountains grew an ancient darkness. In the abyss there was a rupture where it was allowed to come through. It crept up on them and was able to gain a stronghold but identified before it could spread any further. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Together the serpent and the lion same down into the depths, careful not to get too close to the shadow. It was poisonous to the touch and spread quickly in the water. They had to do something. Dracobra swallowed the shadow and Magnanimous pulled a chunk from the seabed. The serpent churned the shadow into fire and spewed it out into the water boiling it and the chunk Magnanimous placed inside.


    The water surrounding the chunk evaporated, creating an expanding bubble. The fire melted the stone down and purified it, refining it, evening it out, making it round and smooth. The water cooked inside the stone, and they fused together into a cerulean crystal sphere. They created a vessel that could contain infinite darkness. Together they brought the gem of the abyss down to the deepest depths.


    The further down they went the weaker they both got but the two demigods kept going for the good of all MagnaThora. They worked together and in doing so it got them further than they could ever accomplish alone. Now the breach was finally upon them, having hit rock bottom. With all of their remaining strength the forced the gem into the rupture. It fit perfectly and locked in place. Both Magnanimous and Dracobra left parts of themselves behind to bind the locks between the abyss and the other side, hoping never to return.


    The day would come where the gem wouldn¡¯t be enough. For all that it could contain it simply was too small in size to persevere. It was originally brought to their attention by the surface dweller, who saw the water churning from above, in a massive whirlpool the called the Chasm. And so together again for another crusade into the deep, the serpent and the lion swam. Little did they know it would be their last trek together.


    For Magnanimous he would never find out whether the darkness got to Dracobra during the initial drop and lock or if it was when they went back the second time. They returned to a place they had forsaken because the pressure had built up so much it was threatening to blow in a blast wave that would wipe out all life in and out of the water.


    In the final moments of the resurgence there remained one more option the serpent neglected to consider. They could have eaten the pressure the same way the serpent had eaten the shadow. Maybe that option was no longer available because it didn¡¯t actually work the first time. Either way as soon as they got down there the shadow latched onto Dracobra.


    The darkness overwhelmed the gemstone and wedged it just enough to get a steady stream of blight through. There was no stopping what would happen next, so Magnanimous did the only sensible thing. He spirited away his precious blue gem of the abyss, the eye of the lion, the Ignaleos Cor.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    ¡°In all that time, the Chasm has only gotten worse. It spreads and makes sea voyage impossible. Our charges as gods were failed long ago. I sit here and shine my divine grace on these humans because that is exactly what they have given me.


    ¡°If you want to learn anything from me and my life, young lord, know this,¡± the goldy lion spoke softly over the grassy knoll. ¡°The darkness is unstoppable. I award you for choosing an alternative to death but if you think you contained it, you¡¯re wrong. The evil that dwells within the dark of MagnaThora cannot be contained.¡±


    ¡°I have created an impregnable prison.¡±


    ¡°I hope so. My sibling will not go quietly into eternity.¡±


    ¡°Do I have to worry about your intervention?¡±


    ¡°You will get no trouble from me, godling. I told you. My concern is to the West and the darkness ever growing in the Barren Sea. I help Entehii now and keep watch over here so he can stay where he is. It works for now. What do you plan to do with your godhood?¡±


    ¡°What I am meant to do.¡±


    Patronalus left the countryside and the Serengeti for one final tour around MagnaThora. He wanted to see all the places he knew and loved before his departure. By disguise, under a cloak and a mirage of black hair he revisited his hometown. He was feeling nostalgic because he knew. Patronalus would never be returning. He used his newfound knowledge to complete his ascension. He now knew all paths and they led to the realm of the gods. Patronalus would voluntarily reseal the covenant between god and man. He permanently closed the realms off from each other with himself on the other side without checking beforehand what or who was there with him.


    Patronalus was never seen or heard from again.

 Chapter 80: Fields

    <h2 style="text-align: center">Part Six: The Dark Lord¡¯s Grasp</h2>


    <h2> </h2>


    <h2>CHAPTER 80 ¨C FIELDS</h2>


    Even after the fall of Caliber and the scourging of the Serengeti, other kingdoms would not know about the destruction of the Pride for days to come. The Inner Realm and the Republic at Crucifire Plains would never be able to respond in time, even if the issue went to a vote. No kingdom would muster a rescue force quick enough. There would be no help. But Axion¡¯s hope lived on. This battle was likely to last, at the most, a full day. That gave Mercinestor and Cipher more than enough time to muster the Pride.


    Queen Ady¨¢na brought life back into her kingdom as she along with Commander Cel¡¯a and the royal guard escorted what was left of the Lion Kingdom nation inside the Citadel. Thankfully, the Citadel itself was enormous, both above and below the ground. Its maximum occupancy fitted for this very reason.


    Zepathorum was the heart of the Pride. This was the only place where their fate could be decided. Outside of the Citadel, in the circle, Axion and Anilithy¨¬stad were setting up a Headquarters. Impromptu fences and barricades were being put all around, and guards were covering every road in and out. Outside of the circle was the inner city of Zepathorum, different clusters of city districts and residential neighborhoods. The inner city split into five separate parts.


    The west side was a district of city high life. The east side was an emerging residential area. The most northern part of the city was known as the Gatehouse. The Gatehouse was exactly what it sounded like. The north wall of the gate was the longest and most vulnerable part of the Zepathorum border. That is why, the great creators of the city welded the north gate with a massive factory and armory, all of which covered by barracks. In between the north and west sides was the last part of the city.


    In the northwestern corner, was the downtown area, closest to the only gates through the city wall. The doors on the dark crimson gate were enormous and flat. The main gates were four stone doors separated by small guard-towers. Two pairs of wide stone doors, outlined in gold, connected three stout guard-towers in a perfect right angle. The massive amber sledge stone doors can only be opened outward and are controlled by chains and pulleys leading into the guard towers.


    A couple of long stretches of grass flats and tall stone buildings scattered the entrance on the inside commonly called ¡°downtown¡±. Continuing east on the northern gate past the guard tower came the Gatehouse. Besides that, the rest of the city¡¯s gate led, on both sides, around to Lake Niobi.


    Prince Axion, Commander Cel¡¯a, Anilithy¨¬stad, and Mortikahn joined Jericho and Paxikahn on the top floor of the Gatehouse. The masses outside were now completely gathered and ranked entirely in front of the north wall of the city, before the Gatehouse. There was no dark cloud above them. They were marching in light of their shadow power. In any other instance this might be considered a desperate move, but no. They must have the numbers for it to make no difference.


    Anilithy¨¬stad knew for certain, if the sun caught a hole in the clouds it would torch any unsuspecting darksider with its rays. He almost prayed for the fortunate of seeing it now. He knew all too well, the magic of the old days were over. He could only hope for a miracle, a miracle they sent off into exile. Their best shot at surviving this, but no¡­there was another. Axion was worthy of the crown and the kingdom¡¯s salvation. Only time would tell.


    The enemy host of infantrymen were now a mere hundred yards from the gates. In that space, what looked like a lone shorelander cavalrymen rode up to the middle of the field, except the stride was off. The strange rider was holding a staff atop his horse. The horseman waved his wooden staff at the sky.


    Axion mumbled something. Anilithy¨¬stad got closer as the prince repeated himself.


    ¡°I know that horse.¡±


    The hooded horseman was riding a blond horse. By its previous stride in, they could tell it was a female. This was Huntross¡¯ mother from Ashtown, but that did not look like Echo.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s my brother¡¯s cloak¡­¡± said Mortikahn, almost at a loss for words.


    This was truly bizarre. The horseman had no clear bearing or sway on the situation at hand. The staff waving didn¡¯t appear to be doing anything. Finally, the horseman put the staff back down by his side and kicked the horse he stormed off back towards the road.


    As the gap between the darksider host of infantry and the gates of Zepathorum closed, the clouds above parted and scattered, burning off in the sunlight above. The fields before the gates of Zepathorum always drank the sunlight. Every single darksider caught in a part of the field exposed to the raw sun burned alive. Smoke hissed off their flesh and they retreated for the shade. Like a zipper in the sky, removing the clouds from the sun, it ran across the field toward the horseman.


    Admiral Zorrowfold screamed for retreat. He sent runners to Warlord Cassius to focus his catapults on the horseman. He feared it might be too late and the damage was done. Hundreds upon hundreds of darksiders caught in the sweeping sunlight burned to ash and bone. Those that escaped looked even more inhuman with the fresh blisters and burns. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The retreat will be of no effect. The open sky would annihilate thousands of foot soldiers. Who was that man? Admiral Zorrowfold was furious. A portal opened in front of the horseman. It was angled in such a way that the horse ran through it but the hooded rider did not. He fell to the ground. Before he hit the ground a spear came flying through the other side of the portal into the back of the horseman. Malinor phased through the portal along with the spear and it closed behind him. The void-tipped spear killed the horseman. Malinor kicked the dead body off his spear.


    Malinor used a quick dark magic incantation. He bound his spell to the spear and launched it into the air. Two distinct noises sounded off in the city, while he was doing this. There were the screams of horror by those who just happened to be looking south. The second noise was a faint whistle, that once you heard it, there was no not hearing it. It sounded far off, practically in one¡¯s own head. It was in fact the whistle of the brood. From this far away it looked like a dark cloud.


    It was not until it got closer that everyone could see the horrifying truth. Thousands of dragons were flying in from the south. Axion¡¯s face dropped in utter disbelief, along with everyone else¡¯s, except Commander Adora. This was truly becoming a nightmare in reality. The commander kept an earnest look on her face, like she knew something no one else did. Axion worried about that, but he trusted her and had to keep his focus on the clear and present danger, the incoming brood of dragons.


    They did not attack Zepathorum, no, not at first. The dragons stayed in the sky and flew so close to the sun they began to blot it out; all except a small contingent of mass dragons, large, earthen-like fire-breathing dragons with shell armor like that of turtles. They first flew near Malinor, and he boarded one. The dragons then landed near Admiral Zorrowfold. The Emissary dismounted the lead mass dragon to greet the Admiral.


    ¡°Have no fear, Admiral Zorrowfold, we will eclipse the sun in minutes and cover up your ambitious mistake. I applaud you though. How were you to suspect there would be warlocks afoot?¡±


    ¡°Warlocks are insidious and will crop up whenever we don¡¯t expect them, but this one is no threat to us any longer.¡± Malinor said, clanking his fists together, continuing the incantation.


    The strike of lightning reversed itself in a line from Malinor¡¯s fists to the spear, still soaring ever further up through the sky. The dragons reached the part of the sky between the sun and the fields of Zepathorum. The inversed lightning bolt carved its way through the dragons, catching the ones closest and frying them for fuel.


    ¡°Seems like a waste,¡± said Warlord Cassius, now next to Admiral Zorrowfold.


    ¡°This sacrifice is a mere scratch of the surface of the brood in the South.¡±


    The exploding dragons wove their gaseous remains into dark shrouds. Malinor waved his arms from the floor. The mists swirled into dark clouds. He pushed. The dark clouds pushed together into thick formation in front of the sun. And just like that the light of day was snuffed out in Zepathorum. It was no longer overcast in the North. The skies looked horrible. The storm was now upon them unlike ever before. The drops of black rain returned, plastering the walls of Zepathorum.


    The Dark Lord and the Emissary joined Admiral Zorrowfold, Warlord Cassius, and the mad genius Spangalore before their massive host. They had the combined might of force not seen in MagnaThora for hundreds of years. This was the beginning of the end of the Pride.


    Separate regiments of cavalry positioned all around the infantry, who were protecting the boarding ramp towers being wheeled in by giant Behemoths. The Behemoths were warbeasts, with thick cartilage shell wrapped around their shoulders and waist. The monsters wore heavy stone plated armor, becoming virtually unstoppable. Such things were true creations from the underworld.


    From within Port Caliber, the wretched egg-born monsters finished feasting on their victims. They digested the meat of man and metastasized from its raw energy. They came into maturity and flew out of the city with crooked dark wings of bruised black feathers, hell-bent on Zepathorum. They soared low and then joined the remaining dragons in the dark sky above the enemy command-post.


    Their mission was to annihilate the Pride. They were successful with Port Caliber and had slowly covered the entire Serengeti. The only piece of the puzzle left was Zepathorum, their crowning achievement. First the Dark Lord would send his countless pawns. They would slowly wear down the city defenses with boarding ramps, ladders, and battering rams. When the walls were broken, he would send all legions in, along with the monsters. He would concentrate all his forces on the northern wall, all regiments of dark creatures except for one.


    The Emissary would take a squadron of acolytes and berserkers on a flanking mission. They would wait until focus was on the northern wall and attempt to sneak in unnoticed. Spangalore presented the Emissary with the newest member of the acolytes: a once young boy and citizen of the Lion Kingdom. Infected with the darkness, the boy¡¯s pure heart churning pure power in the transformation. He grew to adult size, stretched out by tumors and spasms. He was a horrific part of the darksiders, a fearsome truth of the power of evil.


    His name was Denison. And in one day he turned from a horrified young boy into a horrific warrior of darkness. In his conversion, his soul was replaced with hatred and hunger. These two primitive notions alone controlled the fleet of dead minds invading the north. Denison, along with a select few other newly converted knowledge, were brought up to the frontlines for their knowledge of the nation¡¯s cities.


    Their strategy combined of formations, simultaneous battle moves, surprise attacks, and last second adjustments were all put into motion. In no time, this city would be theirs to hold. And if all else failed, Malinor would break the Arkenoir House himself, but even though the Dark Lord was more powerful than all of them put together, he waited. He reserved his power for his grand designs that no one else would be privy to until it was too late.

 Chapter 81: Wall

    <h2>CHAPTER 81 ¨C WALL</h2>


    In a matter of moments everything turned into a nightmarish hellscape. Day turned to night. Dragons and other cruel beasts flooded the skies, careening towards the city. This would be the end for them. The troops started to march as the skybeasts finished their collision course, all the while the catapults ravaged the walls of Zepathorum. Then the pitter patter of rain trickled in. Axion lifted his hand out from underneath the cover. He inspected the raindrops smashing into his palm. It was black rain.


    He turned to face everyone and come up with some sort of plan. He had no idea what to do against such odds beyond compare. As he turned to face them Commander Cel¡¯a walked out into the rain. Axion looked twice at her.


    Cel¡¯a said as she passed, ¡°I thought I would have more time.¡±


    Axion had a million questions, but he merely just let her go. Whatever was about to happen would be a measure of desperation, and one they sorely needed at that.


    Cel¡¯a smiled looking back one last time fondly, before setting her sights forward, gripping her spear firmly. And then it was as though she talked to the enemy as one.


    ¡°I will protect this city with every beat of my heart, with every fiber of my being, and every breath of my spirit, even if it takes my last!¡±


    Cel¡¯a twirled her royal golden spear around in the rain. The tip sliced through the black rain drops cleanly. Axion could swear he saw the spear starting to blur as it moved. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed, immediately confirming his suspicions after seeing the look on Jericho and Mortikahn¡¯s faces.


    At this point, the spear was visibly shifting through the air with supernatural speed. Then Commander Cel¡¯a slammed it down with all her might, stabbing the spearhead into the ground, creating a schism in the atmosphere. The spear charged with the energy she collected. It pulsed in a cerulean blue, akin to the cor. The pulse radiated from the spearhead and started to move, up the shaft and over to Cel¡¯a, gradually accumulating and covering her body like armor.


    Axion froze in awe as he watched his guardian exhibit the same mastery of Ignaleos Cor power Mercinestor displayed behind enemy lines, back in Port Caliber. Cel¡¯a had found a way to turn her superspeed spear handling into a static shield, and then that into an offensive strike. In one stroke she swung the spear over her head. The cosmic armor lifted away like a cobweb in the wind as the commander painted the sky.


    It was beautiful, truly a sight to behold, as color was brought back into the muted landscape. The span of blue covered a staggering vertical limit, from up beyond the clouds, down to the Gatehouse, unnaturally extending the city walls, all in one stroke. As a result, the dragons flew through the field and like a cosmic filter they obliterated into sheer nothingness. It looked like the dragons¡¯ entirety was eviscerated, save their shadows. The static sky wall cleansed the city of the brood in one fell swoop.


    ¡°Bring me that lioness¡¯ head.¡± The Emissary hissed at his acolytes, as they set out to scale the city walls.


    The soldiers in the city cheered at the light show. Commander Cel Adora was the heroine of the kingdom in that moment, saving them all from certain death. Unfortunately, it took everything she had to grapple such a force. Axion escorted Commander Cel¡¯a back under cover and handed her off to the royal guard, one of which was her own son Fiscerone Adora.


    ¡°Get her to the Citadel safely, Fis.¡± A name only the Prince called him. ¡°We need the commander back on her feet as soon as possible.¡±


    Fisceron¡¯a bowed to Prince Axion and carried the commander away.


    Axion took this moment to clear his mind and find his center. He found ways to formulate a plan. He thought about what happened at Port Caliber, how he entered the scene and knew what to do instinctually. This was almost the same, but this time they had an advantage¡­This time they knew the enemy was coming. This fight would be on Axion¡¯s terms, and in that he held the leverage necessary to beat the odds.


    ¡°Everyone listen up. We just caught a huge break thanks to the Commander¡¯s sacrifice. Even though her presence on the battlefield will be sorely missed-¡±


    The remaining royal guard cheered at that.


    ¡°By now, the city is clear of civilians. Any who have not retreated to the Citadel will be bunkered down on their own. Paxikahn and Jericho stay here with the archers and hold the Gatehouse. Anilithy¨¬stad set up our command center in the Citadel courtyard. The cavalry from Metuchen has been distributed throughout the city under the leadership of the royal guard and Mortikahn. When the defenses at the walls start to break we retreat conservatively until we¡¯re at the courtyard. After that we hold out for as long as we can until help arrives. May the gods have mercy on us all, and the Lorde Magnanimous shine his divine providence down upon us.¡±


    Everyone left the tent except for Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Good plan,¡± he said.


    ¡°You will have to stay in the courtyard at all costs, uncle.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you need.¡±


    ¡°I will ride across the fronts and help them maintain the perimeter.¡±


    ¡°We will hold this city. The Casterosi will come.¡±


    Anilithyistad finished reassuring Axion and peered over his shoulder to find Mortikahn assembling his team. The young shorelander prince took the time now to get to know his men so when it was time to move out there would be little hesitation.


    It was dark. Everyone was scared. The ranks of horrid scaly soldiers marched towards the walls. The sky cracked and a bolt of lightning opened the clouds. The rain came down harder and harder, until it came with the first round of arrows. Axion quickly signaled a counterstrike. After that, he gave the order to fire at will, and encouraged his troops to empty their ammunition, hold nothing back.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s time we show these intruders what this city is capable of¡­¡± Axion nodded to his men.


    ¡°Artillery!¡± screamed one of the Royal Guard lieutenants posted at the Gatehouse, as he lifted his sword into the air.


    With the signal from his sword the artillery along the city joined the arrows in sailing through the storm torn air. This was no mere travel-size catapult ammunition. The trebuchet stations throughout the Gatehouse and the towers along the city walls were permanent installations. This meant their ability to harness the strength of the city, and through gears, weights, and pulleys hurl massive slabs of boulderock through the air. Pieces so big sometimes they wouldn¡¯t even roll but hit the ground flat and smush anything caught unlucky enough to get caught in between. It was such a barrage that the initial charge of foot soldiers almost came to a halt. The rain continued to paint the floor wet.


    The initial shock and horror hit like an explosion. The chaos was perpetually growing now, like trying to keep a cracked dam from breaking. Jericho led the archers. Standing almost directly in the center of the northern wall, he would cock back an arrow, and so would the rest of the wall in unison. Jericho fired his arrow along with all the archers. He was the conductor of the defense, pinpointing danger spots along the forces against the wall and wiping them out. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    A loud crack annihilated a tower nearest to the Gatehouse. It was destroyed by a behemoth swinging a club. Jericho¡¯s men targeted the giant beast before it could do any more serious damage and collectively, in a massive effort took it down. There was only one problem. That behemoth was not alone. Jericho looked back. Luckily for him, Axion had not departed the Gatehouse yet and read his cousin¡¯s face loud and clear. The prince ordered his soldiers to target the approaching wave of assault behemoths with the trebuchets.


    The archers¡¯ arrows distracted the dumb giants, as the stones and boulders launched from the trebuchets stomped them out. Paxikahn watched his nephew Jericho lead the archers in tandem with the city artillery as it laid waste to the enemy legions. He was impressed to say the least. If they kept this up they could wear down the enemy force and be victorious.


    Not a moment after Paxikahn thought this did giant craven birds with long beaks, reptile necks, scaly black feathers, and gangrenous claws holding round rocks come diving out of the darkened skies. They released the rocks just above the trebuchets crushing them to bits. This was not random, it was an airstrike. On closer look, there was a rider on one of those cravens! Paxikahn got to the roof of the battlements and loaded his bow. He pulled the arrow back and fired it into the air towards a craven.


    The bird swooped down at him, noticed the incoming arrow, and dodged out of the way. Paxikahn slid off the roof and down a stone gutter, leading right back to his horse. The monstrous bird now flew low in between the buildings, heading right for Paxikahn retreating on horseback. He loaded his bow again, but this time kicked his horse with both his heels while he pulled the arrow back into the bow as far and as tight as he could. Paxikahn¡¯s horse galloped wildly as it looked back and forth between the city blocks.


    When both horse and master caught the path of the flying beast, Paxikahn gave it everything he had, pulling the arrow even farther back and releasing in one fluent motion. The arrow sailed through the air and dug into the craven right between the eyes. It died before it crashed into the street. But that was only one of the frivolously devastating birds storming down upon the city. Paxikahn pulled a long feather from the carcass and rode back to the north wall. The last of the trebuchets got few shots off before they too were destroyed by the cravens.


    Axion could no longer sit and wait. Apparently, the forces on the battlements were holding. Axion just watched and listened for the initial charge upon the city. Little did he know that soon he would be forever regretting his feelings right now. Not only regretting the words, but wishing he was back in that calm break before the storm. Mortikahn walked past his cousin, the prince and general of the Lion Kingdom, and saw the awkward look on his face, the one of fighting against instinct. Mortikahn caught Axion¡¯s attention and lifted his eyebrows, almost giving a shocked expression except for his smirk, this combination sort of woke the lion prince up, who then summoned both Mortikahn and Anilithy¨¬stad.


    ¡°Mortikahn, I see your ranks are ready. Deploy them post haste. Let¡¯s get ahead of it. I feel something horrible in the air. Better we act now, get a jump on things to come.¡±


    ¡°Aye, Axion,¡± saluted Mortikahn as he adjusted his armor and left for assembly.


    Anilithy¨¬stad at first felt uneasy. His youngest, leading a battalion on his own, was Mortikahn ready? But in these grave times, the judgment of all men would come swiftly with heavy consequences. Everyone must endure, including his youngest son. So, he let Axion send Mortikahn off and did nothing about it. After all, the lad showed his true colors during the evacuation of Port Caliber. He was almost solely responsible for saving the civilians of the beach district.


    Somehow this was different though. Anilithy¨¬stad did not want to admit it to himself, but there was a cold dark feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the feeling of certain death. Even if the banners of the Pride arrived in time, this could still be the end. Anilithy¨¬stad needed to think of a back-up plan to get his son out before it was too late. He could not think like that right now. His entire family and his men were counting on him. This was no time to prioritize lives. Anilithy¨¬stad shook his head to clear his thoughts.


    ¡°Relax.¡± Axion put his arm on Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s shoulders, ¡°I¡¯m going to trail them and keep their flank safe. I figure I¡¯ll be the first to know when and where the worst will come.¡± Axion went to leave, but Anilithy¨¬stad stopped him.


    ¡°Take these,¡± he said as he handed Axion two red rock arrowheads, ¡°Shoot them when the wall is broken and when the city is in full retreat.¡±


    ¡°Yes, uncle. I promise I will not let anything happen to Mortikahn.¡±


    Exactly what he wanted to hear. All in all, there was no one he trusted more than Axion, a shining example of what the next generation of their family was capable of. Part of him wished Anilithion was here for the briefest of moments, just so he could see his cousin Axion in action, the makings of a true king.


    ¡°Thank you, Axion. Now go!¡±


    Axion attached the arrowheads to two of his arrows as he walked over to Huntross, his faithful steed. He waited until the last member of Mortikahn¡¯s cavalry left the Gatehouse to begin his lurking of the city and shadowing of Mortikahn. Before long Anilithy¨¬stad also left the frontline, joining Galastad back at the courtyard to set up the command center, per the prince¡¯s orders.


    Jericho had the enemy front completely boxed out with his precision archer strikes. The northern wall was successfully keeping the horde of Dragon Kingdom soldiers at bay. From the awaiting ranks back in the army of shadow¡¯s rear, came Behemoths pushing large, armored boarding ramps on wheels. As they approached the walls, the dark soldiers climbed onto them. The ramps were rammed mercilessly into the stone walls.


    Small oozing soldiers came jumping out and attacked the archers along with Jericho. Jericho shot one back into the boarding ramp, knocking over all the soldiers behind him. He then shot one attacking a comrade in front of him, but before he could fire off another arrow, he had to elbow an enemy charging at his back. When the enemy fell to the ground Jericho finished him with the tip of his bow. By successfully keeping himself from drawing his sword, he could keep his bow out, and resume picking off enemy intruders from any distance. Jericho put one foot on the dead body, marking the first breach of the wall, and fired another arrow into the head of a dark soldier.


    Another intruder rushed at him. He paused from shooting the arrows. He looped the end of his bow around and the attacker was caught by its edge, thrown to the ground. It jerked its scimitar at him. Jericho grabbed the scimitar by the rusty blade and flipped it around. He thrust the blade into the foe¡¯s chest. Before he could look up another one was right on top of him. He used the opponent¡¯s moment and flipped him over his shoulders. Jericho pinned him down with his foot on his throat, loaded an arrow in his bow, and fired in straight into the face of the pinned darksider. Jericho continued to put down enemy after enemy with arrows when an idea hit him.


    He took a break from the forces on the wall and shot two arrows at the same time. He aimed for the Behemoth¡¯s footing beside the boarding ramps. Once agitated, the Behemoth began to stir, and then soon enough its temper flared, crumbling the boarding ramp, and rampaging over the dark kingdom¡¯s ranks.


    Jericho barked orders to his archers to aim for the Behemoths¡¯ feet. With concentration on the ramps, Jericho was able to predict the enemy¡¯s move to ladders. Soon they began popping up all over the place. As he went to go kick one back down, he saw several thick cables being shot into the air, over his head, for the Gatehouse.


    Jericho ordered down the line of the first defense to switch from bows to main arms and guard the remaining archers. Jericho continued tending to the remaining ladders and boarding ramps.


    Paxikahn got back to the Gatehouse and tried to climb the north wall to his nephew. Paxikahn and Jericho were a lot alike in physicality. Whereas Anilithy¨¬stad, Axion, and the boys were very lean and broad, Paxikahn and Jericho were more nimble and swift. More cables flew up from the crowd of enemies and latched onto the balcony walls. Paxikahn dismounted and prepared himself. Dark soldiers who had held on and climbed on the way up jumped down onto the ledge. Down the line of the Gatehouse, Paxikahn saw them emerge until one was right before him. It swung its wild ax at Paxikahn, but he jumped out of the way and quickly dispersed the foe via decapitation.


    He snapped the coil off, jumped onto the ledge, pulled his bow out, and fired arrows down the line bursting the latches on the rest of the cables. Paxikahn did this until arrows began to fly by his head. He jumped back down and continued to the next opponent. Paxikahn cleared the deck, momentarily, pushed back the cable-shots, and ordered for his horse back.


    It was time to move. Always keep moving. That¡¯s how you survive. He looked down the Gatehouse to the northern wall and saw endless attempts at ladders being thrown up on the walls. They could not keep this dance up much longer. Paxikahn rode out of his post atop the Gatehouse and returned to the front wall. He approached his nephew, Jericho, still shooting off random spouts of arrows along with his comrades.


    ¡°The body count is rising. We can¡¯t hold them off with arrows much longer. Soon they won¡¯t need ramps or ladders, they¡¯ll be able to climb up on all the dead bodies,¡± informed Jericho as he continued firing round after round.


    ¡°Look!¡± yelled out an archer as he pointed towards the northwestern gates. Battering rams were revealed behind the lines and slammed into the large slab stone walls. At first the battering rams had little effect on the main gates, but with concentration put on the ladders and the battlefront before the walls, it was just a matter of time before the front gates cracked. Paxikahn called for all arms to head to downtown, the main gate area. Jericho went with him, abandoning the northern wall, and Gatehouse. The bangs from the battering rams hitting the gates put a tempo in the air to score the fight. Like a timer, it counted the moments left before the city was overrun.


    Paxikahn and Jericho rallied the troops before the trembling gate. In the downtown markets they had some space to breathe before the streets got narrow and the buildings tight, this is where they would make their stand. Another loud crash and a splinter ran down the back of the stone slab gate. Paxikahn took a good look around. There were not many of them left. Not nearly enough to stop the dark forces from entering the city. Another loud crash echoing through the walls and the taunts from the outside. They were making progress through the gates.


    ¡°This is it.¡±

 Chapter 82: Breach

    <h2>CHAPTER 82 - BREACH</h2>


    The Emissary left east on a secret mission. Malinor stayed back with his vanguard while his council went to work. They both needed time to recharge after their most recent feats. Summoning the dark magic took a tremendous physical toll on the human body unless you incorporated reservoirs or triage counterspells. The Emissary¡¯s acolytes infiltrated the city through the shadows, slowly working their way to the citadel.


    Admiral Zorrowfold and Warlord Cassius led the forward infantry against the northern walls, while the Mad Genius Spangalore did a poor job of wrangling his monsters, loving every second of it. Warlord Cass still commanded the siege equipment, now taking special interest in the battering ram breaking the gates to the wall. Admiral Zorrowfold kept the Pride forces busy with continued attack on the walls. The dragon kingdom army was overwhelming. Resistance would soon be unattainable.


    The gates shook as splinters rained down, increasing in size until the doors were compromised. Warlord Cassius maneuvered a surprise in place for whatever was waiting for them on the other side, in the city. Over everything else Warlord Cassius had to fulfill his debt to the Dark Lord Malinor if he is to survive all of this. Certain steps would have to be taken to ensure his involvement in the victory, including a flawless siege of the city.


    Finally, the hinges on the massive northern gate doors gave in, allowing what remained of the doors to crumble into ruin. Dark riders streamed in nearly running down the standing forces of Zepathorum as the gates crumbled to the floor. If it was not for Mortikahn and his cavalry squadron arriving just in time the enemy front would never have been stopped. Mortikahn rode into the fight with the roars and screams of his comrade. He rallied their spirits and turned the momentum in their favor. Behind the riders were endless lines of darksiders slowly marching in. It would not last long, but it would be long enough for reinforcements to arrive.


    Jericho and Paxikahn arrived with most of the archers from the Gatehouse. Paxikahn called out to load their arrows. When Paxikahn ordered them to fire, it blew back the first wave of soldiers. The formations quickly split into two factions after that. The men in back, including Paxikahn and Mortikahn, remained archers and sent arrows deep into the air over the breaking gates. The men in front, led by Jericho, switched to swords and charged. Jericho led the remaining horsemen into three equal groups, one on each end, and the other in the middle of the charge with him.


    They connected with the enemy lines and the collision was blisteringly violent. Neither side budged back, they dug in against each other. Jericho, Mortikahn, and Paxikahn stopped the initial siege of Zepathorum.


    But it would not last. No one knew this more than Jericho, who was in the pit of it all. He had dismounted his horse and sent her off before it got too tight. The fighting was overcrowded. In this confined area, he had to keep his flexibility. He also kept his sword close by him. The most effective way to kill a foe in this type of battle was to lung yourself at them with the tip of your sword aimed for their throat. After being frustrated to the point of motivation, Jericho put his sword away, pulled out two arrows, one in each hand, and in a triumphant rage, he jumped from enemy to enemy and made a valiant push for his family.


    Until there was room enough to breathe he used the arrows as darts pinning opponent after opponent with fatal strikes, mostly to the nape of the necks. Then, when the time came Jericho called for his steed. Once again on horseback he returned to firing the arrows from his bow and joined by Paxikahn and Mortikahn.


    ¡°How goes it in the thick?¡±


    ¡°The front holds for now. Anymore reinforcements?¡± answered and asked Jericho as he looked at Mortikahn.


    ¡°Just some thirty or forty cavalry,¡± informed Mortikahn, ¡°It¡¯s all that¡¯s left.¡±


    ¡°Do we hold or retreat?¡±


    Jericho wanted to say retreat.


    ¡°Jericho, keep pushing forward!¡± yelled Paxikahn, ¡°We will split the cavalry up and cycle through the gate bottleneck in waves.¡±


    They departed once again. Each new situation presented a shift in their strategy. Thankfully, they continued to adapt to the ever-evolving terrain of the battlefield. Just then six loud cracks sounded off one after another behind them. It was the Gatehouse, six thick cables demolished the small tower of the Gatehouse. With the northern wall now practically evacuated, there was little they could do to prevent that breach. Paxikahn could not spare any of his men. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    That¡¯s when Paxikahn saw Axion, and a small contingent enter the smoking Gatehouse. Then a red flare was shot into the rainy sky above. Anilithy¨¬stad would be updated on the status of the fight if the loud cracks were not enough of a sign already. It mattered not. This meant one very important thing. Paxikahn could once again concentrate on the breach at the northern gate.


    Axion drew his sword and combated the enemies climbing the cables. He chopped down foe and after foe while he made his way outside to the engraved cable hooks. Together with the troops he rounded up on the streets, they successfully pushed them back outside, where Axion caught an overwhelming glimpse. Even if he destroyed these cables, the ladders against the northern wall were all up and running evil darksiders into the city. It was inevitable. He had already shot the red flare into the air to warn Anilithy¨¬stad that the wall was breaking. Axion wrapped a chain around the cable and zip-lined down to the wall. He immediately kicked one ladder down while plunging his sword into the stomach of a dark soldier.


    Cut. Chop. Punch. Cut. Kill. Kill. Parry. Kill.


    When he got to the next ladder and kicked it off the side of the wall Axion peered out into the mass, they were mostly directed towards the front gates now, but still, the amount of monsters that were left to deal with, after they had already killed so many, was demoralizing. Axion was clearing out the wall and getting a fair amount of ladders down when he confronted an unsuspected face.


    It was his cousin, Jericho.


    ¡°I was covering a flank which led me up here, but it appears that you cleaned everything up.¡±


    ¡°Shall we return to the fight?¡± asked Axion rhetorically as they abandoned the battlements once and for all and headed back into the downtown fight. Axion and Jericho charged through the enemy ranks cleanly. It was the first time Jericho felt excited for the battle. Running with his oldest cousin and future king gave him the strength he needed to endure the night.


    They rallied the troops around them and created a convoy back to the center of the fight. Together, the two princes ran into battle with the spirit of the fight around them. Their comrades¡¯ hearts burst with pride upon seeing their champion, Axion return. They raised their swords up high and followed behind, pushing the battlefront back over to the northern gate. Axion cut into the ranks in heavy doses, swinging his sword in a wild melee, peeling off the arms and heads of the frontline foe, and passing them back for his troops to finish.


    Jericho fought with ease, now allowed to breathe amongst Axion¡¯s rampage. They always worked well together, and Jericho shadowed his brute older cousin with his bow and arrow, along with precision accuracy. Axion ran the center of his line through the gates, getting as far as the fields on the other side. While Jericho shot down enemy archers and sharpshooters attempting to assassinate Axion. But soon the momentum died, and the soldiers were getting tired. They had gone too far. Now they were risking vulnerability, being outside the walls.


    ¡°Call for retreat,¡± he ordered.


    Axion looked out. Thinking that this would be the last time he could get an accurate gauge on how many battalions they were dealing with. Axion scanned the fields, too many, over twenty thousand. Axion followed his retreat back into the gates and covered the rear of their mobilization, keeping the causalities low. They slowly fought at the gates once again. Axion cut down pawn after pawn, trying to keep the flow funneled. The infiltrators from the north wall and Gatehouse got their ladders back up and flanked the battle into the downtown area. Axion had to drop back to absorb the blow. The frontlines were spreading; soon they would spread out of control.


    Axion looked at Paxikahn, Jericho, and Mortikahn each on a flank in front of him, getting scattered back amongst the wreckage.


    Axion called his troops to fall back, ¡°REFORM THE LINES!¡±


    Paxikahn had them pulled back upon hearing Axion¡¯s call. He sent messengers to bring them back along with Mortikahn. So, they gathered together, and Paxikahn asked Axion what the next step was.


    ¡°We have to spread out the forces we have left. But we can¡¯t do it all at once. Jericho and Mortikahn come with me. We will take all the cavalry and station them around the city to catch the retreat.¡±


    ¡°I shall hold them as long as I can here.¡±


    ¡°Uncle¡­you will die if you stay here!¡± interrupted Mortikahn.


    ¡°Do not worry about me. You three stick together! I¡¯ll see you back at the courtyard. Now get going!¡±


    Paxikahn bid farewell to his nephews and returned to his post at the front. Axion and Jericho road off, but Mortikahn lingered, staring at his uncle Paxikahn. Paxikahn nodded back at Mortikahn reassuringly. He smiled. Mortikahn smiled back, worried it would be the last time he would ever see his uncle.


    Without warning a messenger came bearing ever worse news. Boats had been spotted on the other side of Lake Niobi and were now on their way over to the beach of the Citadel. Soon the only side of the city without a wall to crumble would be infiltrated all the same.

 Chapter 83: Anilithyistad & the Twelve

    <h2>CHAPTER 83 ¨C ANILITHYISTAD & THE TWELVE</h2>


    Anilithy¨¬stad looked around. There had to be at least one hundred soldiers in the courtyard around him. He looked at the gates over the moat, there were more soldiers coming in. Smoke dragged across the city skyline beyond the vine-covered arches of the royal courtyard. ¡°Galastad!¡± he sought out.


    ¡°No matter what happens, you must stay here and protect the Citadel.¡±


    ¡°I promise I will not let you down, cousin.¡±


    ¡°I know you won¡¯t¡­That is why I picked you.¡±


    He decided to take twelve men. Not fifty or forty, thirty or even fifteen, but twelve men. To Anilithy¨¬stad he knew he was worth the numbers, he could only hope that the men he selected had it in them to beat the odds and win out this night. He gathered the twelve nearest him and briefed them of the forming situation.


    They rallied behind him. There were five fellow soldiers from the Steed Kingdom, but only two still were on horses. The other seven were from the Royal Guard. Anilithy¨¬stad had chosen a good lot. The two riders covered both sides of Anilithy¨¬stad as they ran ahead.


    At the beaches, there were servants of the Citadel and volunteers lining the beach with sandbags. Mostly women, it was clear, Queen Ady¨¢na must have sent them. When Anilithy¨¬stad tried to get them back inside, he saw one more set of precautions. There were cauldrons of molten hot oil with arrows sticking out of them. He looked out onto the lake as the rest of the company arrived.


    ¡°Everyone to projectile arms. Three to a pot of oil,¡± ordered Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°Fire everything you got on the boats. Right before I call for retreat, dump over the oil. That shall be our last trick.¡± After this somber tone had settled in, he added, ¡°We can outlast them. We have to. This front will die and their boats will stop coming, but the city fight will rage on. We must get back to the Courtyard. We can stop them here! We will need to vanquish them! WE MUST WIN THIS FIGHT!¡±


    The men cheered around him as they loaded and set their arrows aflame. Their beach commander pointed his sword high in the air.


    ¡°FOR ZEPATHORUM!¡± yelled Anilithy¨¬stad as the boats came out of the fog.


    ¡°FIRE!¡±


    The arrows shot over the air and lit up the boats. There were at least fifty boats. The arrows shot further back, illuminating his fear that there were more to come.


    ¡°Wait just a little longer until they are in range,¡± he yelled out, ¡°Fire at Will!¡±


    The arrows lit up the dense mist, shredding it. The tiny boats were poorly made and crumbled after only a couple of flaming arrows. Dark soldiers hit by the arrows jumped to other boats or in the water.


    Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s efforts were highly successful. But the armada was getting closer to the shore, and they were running low on arrows. As the boats docked upon the sand banks, the twelve soldiers used the rest of their arrows on the oil arrows. Some fire spread across the shore and caught two or three boats in its consumption, but the nautical assault was still coming. The darksiders approached with nothing to stop them. They ditched their rafts and ran onto the beach. The enemy did not break sprint until reaching Anilithy¨¬stad and the twelve.


    ¡°To arms!¡± he called out as everyone switched from bows to swords and spears.


    ¡°POLES!¡± he yelled out.


    The ones with long spears stepped out and fired them. The spears hopped across the beach and pinned their targets. The collisions were harsh. The dragon soldiers¡¯ bodies snapped back from their charge, but still more kept coming. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Here Anilithy¨¬stad would get a little taste of what the warfare was like at the main gates of the city. The endless ranks of dark creatures bent on killing every living man. But it did not faze Anilithy¨¬stad. He had seen far worse in his past. He eagerly awaited the clash of fronts between his twelve and the darksiders. Anilithy¨¬stad motioned his two riders to cover the flanks of the beach. He reminded himself of the two objectives he would have to remember. The retreat and the oil call.


    One objective he neglected to remember were the flares he gave to Axion, as the red arrow burst into the black sky behind him, far up past the Citadel. More dark wooden boats docked and gathered as the first wave was meeting Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s twelve.


    Anilithy¨¬stad gave out one last order in the silence, ¡°CHARGE!¡±


    The combat was not so kind. These dark sailors were huge. Big, scarred, and blistered shadows of men clad in charcoal armor and black amethyst rags, holding rotted scimitars and axes. Anilithy¨¬stad drove into them like a splinter. He carved down the middle until his horse¡¯s hooves were hitting water. He got a good look around. The boats were small, only manning four or five soldiers. But they were still docking.


    An arrow flew out of the dead night above the lake and hit Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s horse in the neck. He fell off into the water as the wounded steed galloped away in despair. Anilithy¨¬stad, in turn, did not resurface right away, but dove down into the depths. He swam out into the lake, holding his breath until he came upon a boat still paddling in.


    He resurfaced quietly and wiped his face. Anilithy¨¬stad reached back down and pulled out his sword. He held it above the water and searched for a grip on the boat with his left hand. Once he acquired one, he pulled himself up. With his first motion, he stabbed the darksiders rowing closest to him. He got up with both hands on the side of the boat and then pulled his sword out of the dead sailor, who then fell into the water. That was when the rest of them saw him. Some flinched and others cowered.


    ¡°Good¡­¡± Anilithy¨¬stad smiled, ¡°so you know who I am.¡±


    He kicked one off the boat immediately. Then he threw his sword at the one furthest from him while he was tackled back off by the only remaining darksider.


    Now, the two in the water swam on top of Anilithy¨¬stad, struggling to stay afloat. They kicked him down, under the surface as he caught one last quick breath. Blow after blow from their feet started to drown him. He turned around and grabbed their feet. One each, he pulled them down. They squirmed as he sank deeper and deeper with them. They were now too scared for their own lives to kick at him. One escaped his clasp.


    Anilithy¨¬stad crawled up the one he still had and snapped its neck. It no longer squirmed, but Anilithy¨¬stad was not finished. He wanted the one that got away. As the darksider swam up to the top in terror Anilithy¨¬stad followed like a deep sea predator. When the pirate got back to the surface the boat was now too far away to catch.


    Anilithy¨¬stad grabbed the feet of the darksider once again and pulled him down. Unlike Anilithy¨¬stad, the creature had gotten a chance for another breath. He turned around on Anilithy¨¬stad and tried to kill him. The rotten hands of the pirate wrapped around Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s neck and choked the last few moments he had left out of him.


    It did not matter to Anilithy¨¬stad that he was all run out of air. It made no difference if he was being choked or not. He was breathless. Anilithy¨¬stad pulled a dagger from his leg and with his free hand he held the side of his enemy¡¯s face while he pressed the point of the dagger into the other side of the pirate¡¯s head. He pushed off of the dead darksider as he sank to the bottom of the sea with a permanent look of shock.


    Anilithy¨¬stad desperately tried to get to the surface. His vision began to fade, and his arms feinted weak. He was losing control and consciousness. From the tip of his paddling fingers, he could feel the break of air and the dry gust of wind. One more pull and he would be free. He closed his eyes and finished the job.


    His mouth opened and the air surged through the dropping water. Anilithy¨¬stad took a deep breath and regained his vision and strength. He made his way back to the now empty boat, climbed aboard and reclaimed his sword, imbedded in the dead sailor¡¯s body.


    He sailed the boat into another one and made waste of its crew. Two high sweeps and he beheaded most of them. With only two left he stuck one immediately and clashed with the other¡¯s sword. They went back and forth, but Anilithy¨¬stad parried swords and reached for his throat with his other hand. The pirate dropped his sword and tried to free himself from Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s grip with both his hands. Anilithy¨¬stad picked him up by the neck and thrust his sword into his chest.


    When he lowered the dead creature, behind him he saw a ship bigger than any other. It was the only one with banners and sails on the boat. The tide was close enough that it was pulling his boat and the boats around him in. Anilithy¨¬stad steered the boat to see who was on the flagship. Although he did not fight this assassin head on, its face was forever etched in his mind. The leader of this fleet was the Emissary, and he was about to make landfall on the beaches of the Citadel.

 Chapter 84: Wolfsbane

    <h2>CHAPTER 84 ¨C WOLFSBANE</h2>


    The grassy ridge before the walls of the city made for a perfect vantage point for the Dark Lord. On this perch his comfortably say with his vanguard. His most trusted disciples leading their forces towards their ultimate goal, but to no one¡¯s knowledge, that was not the annihilation of the Lion Kingdom; not if it could be helped. Malinor was provoking a storm the likes of which MagnaThora had seen before. His intentions were beyond their understanding and thus intangible¡­obscure¡­unregistered.


    The Dark Lord Malinor sat on his make-shift throne mockingly. He knew the truth. He saw how arbitrary the jostling for kingdoms would be in the grand scheme of things. Once he got his hands on the crimson crown, he would melt it down and use it as bones for a new obsidian crown of emperors. One thing stood in his way. One obstacle still remained on the field as he waited for it to reveal itself, conserving his strength. He let his minions do the dirty work. If everything went according to plan the end was soon near, even though the fun had only just begun.


    Beyond the Dark Lord¡¯s vanguard was the entire host of darksider infantry, waiting their turn to spill into the city either by the fallen gate or the boards along the walls, and the Gatehouse. For all of Zepathorum¡¯s marvel¡¯s, the curve and the crystal of the city defenses, making it resistant to dragon fire, thanks to their founder Jacob Arkenorth and his collaborations with who would late become the first Dragon Emperor. These were old threats. Dragons were nothing compared to the combined strategic assault on Zepathorum.


    Admiral Zorrowfold and Warlord Cassius pressed on the gate, not expecting this much resistance after bringing down the actual gate. The Pride warriors were using the breach in the walls as a bottleneck, and they were good enough to minimize their losses while besting line after line of darksiders.


    ¡°The city is large enough to consider a secondary point of egress.¡± The Mad Genius Spangalore spat out to them. ¡°I am taking my pretty little monsters to the eastern city limits.¡±


    ¡°Where in the dark hells is that coming from?¡± asked Warlord Cassius.


    Zorrowfold and Cassius turned around to see Spangalore strapped into a saddled behemoth. That wasn¡¯t all, the behemoth was clad in dragon-forged armor, dark slated metal. The mad man led the behemoth away.


    Admiral Zorrowfold was the quietest field commander Cassius had ever worked with. This was a dodgy crew all throughout this clandestine recruitment, but now was not the time to be curt.


    ¡°I will keep my siege force focused on the northern city wall while Spangalore¡¯s wrath spills over, continue hammering them here, and soon they will break.¡±


    Admiral Zorrowfold released the Warlord without contesting, true to his kind. All the while not taking his eyes off the fight ahead. The more his legions of darksiders funneled into the gate breach the less ground they took within the city. What was going on in there? He needed eyes in there. As Warlord Cassius departed with the rolling catapults and golden armored infantrymen and cavalry, Admiral Zorrowfold summoned scouts and archers to take the battlements above the gate. As long as they were bottlenecked, they needed to at least hold that desperate patch of Zepathorum territory.


    Soon they would take a hold of the city and never let go, just like Port Caliber. There was nothing those that fought to resist could do. Admiral Zorrowfold would smile, but he did not want to, he rarely wanted to smile. It just wasn¡¯t his thing. Or rather, he took the act of smiling very seriously. Perhaps, after all this was over and he was standing on the smelting ruin of the city, the ash heap of the north, he could smile¡­when he deserved it. For now, Admiral Zorrowfold did his job in the name of the Dark Lord and the South.


    The combination of royal guard, Pride militia, and Metuchen cavalry fought sword against scim for the sake of the city, for their own lives. They refused to yield thanks to the spirit of their champions would fought side by side with them. Axion rode out of the clashing fronts with his two cousins and the thirty-some riders. They followed him out of the ruins of the Gatehouse. They headed through the congressional houses and made their way to the east side of the city.


    ¡°Ten of you stay here. The princes will hold down this area of the city while the rest of you will come with me to cover the west side,¡± ordered Axion. But before he could finish his commands, the thunder roared and out from the storm gray clouds came the murder of cravens once again. The birds dropped through the air with little resistance.


    Like meteors, they plummeted into the eastern wall of the city, crumbling it to bits. Suicidal monsters taking their last flights in selfless devastation. They killed themselves for the greater glory of the dragon kingdom. There waiting outside the fallen wall were lines upon lines of the Necrogallion. Some were on horseback, others were harnessed with Berserkers, and several Berserkers infiltrated the shadow of the city unseen with no riders on their backs.


    Worse than the destruction of the wall, or the inclusion of Berserkers, were the stone-plated and well-provisioned Behemoths. Their stone armor had metal spikes all around them, and the Behemoths themselves were armed with swords and axes in both of their hands, a couple wielded giant maces and whips, and even tridents. The stone rubble from the impact of the wall came barreling down the city blocks.


    ¡°Brace yourselves!¡± screamed Axion as the fallout stampeded by them.


    Behind the furious winds and storms of soot, came avalanching boulders, shattered pieces of the wall with rolling velocity, heading right for them.


    Jericho kicked his horse around, ¡°MORTIKAHN! THIS WAY!¡±


    The two ducked into an alleyway. They watched as the men still out on the street, including Axion, were blown away by the strong winds and heavy debris.


    Axion was thrown from Huntross, landing somewhere on the other side of the road. The dust settled and the city was even darker than it was before. Dense, smother-some fog remained. Zepathorum¡¯s borders were blown wide open.


    Jericho rode down the alleyway with Mortikahn behind him. Screams and blasts came from the crossroad on the left. They continued forward as a wall of dust blew into them. Mortikahn was thrown off his horse as Jericho turned around and jumped off his own horse to cover his fallen cousin. Darksiders crawled down from the walls of the buildings and jumped on Jericho¡¯s back. He squirmed around trying to reach them. The darksider clawed at him, but before it could break his skin, Jericho slammed his back into the wall. The darksider was shocked as Mortikahn jumped up and sliced the creature off of Jericho. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    More darksiders jumped down the alleyway after them. Jericho pulled out his bow and fired it behind Mortikahn¡¯s head. The gang of dark soldiers came at them, Jericho fired arrow after arrow bringing them down, while Mortikahn charged at them with his sword. He shouldered one over and cut into the face of the next. Mortikahn pulled his sword out as he spun around and swung it into the next darksider, slicing its arms off. He swung the sword up around his head and decapitated the armless dark warrior. Mortikahn threw his sword at the remaining foe, bringing him down just before Jericho¡¯s arrow hit. He ran over to the fallen body and pulled his sword out, looking back and laughing.


    ¡°What a rush!¡±


    They got back on their horses and continued down the alleyway. Jericho looked around. He could not get a bearing on their location. They turned the next corner, back in the same direction as the pillar of smoke. But when they turned, they saw that the dust had settled, and the street was abandoned. Farther down, Axion was gone and so was the rest of the cavalry.


    Jericho and Mortikahn galloped down the dark empty city street. Axion was gone, they had gotten turned around from the rest of the cavalry, and now they were more lost than ever. They had to be somewhere in the east side. The buildings were so tall and between the smoke and the fog they could not figure out which direction they were walking. At any moment, they could be once again flanked by the Necrogallion flooding into the city. A bird¡¯s scream echoed down the canal of stone buildings. It was vicious and stung the ears of Jericho, Mortikahn, and their horses. A craven flew nearby. Mortikahn aggressively turned a corner and was caught by a Behemoth wielding a chain and a trident.


    Mortikahn tried to run away but was snatched and entangled by the chain. The giant faceless monster pulled Mortikahn off his horse. Jericho turned around to save his cousin. Jericho¡¯s steed took one step forward when a black ice chill shot down his spine. Jericho turned his horse around and there standing in the middle of the crosswalk was a Berserker. Jericho jumped down from his horse.


    He would take on this fowl beast all by himself. Nothing but bravery filled Jericho¡¯s heart. There was no room for fear. The Berserker would be denied its strongest weapon. The Berserker, now furious, launched itself at Jericho, opening its mouth to reveal its slobbery fangs; and the Behemoth pulled Mortikahn ever closer in.


    Jericho stabbed the Berserker in the mouth with an arrow, narrowly avoiding its bite. He jumped high into the air, loaded the arrow into his bow, and shot it down at the wolf. The arrow pierced its hide, and it went running off into the shadow, but the fight was not yet over.


    Mortikahn tried to free himself from the chains. They were too tight to do anything about. He squirmed to free his sword. The time was now, for Mortikahn to prove himself. Not for his father, or his cousins, but for himself. He flexed his arms and broke the pressure, freeing his sword from the chains. As the Behemoth knelt down to grab a hold of his catch, Mortikahn sliced his sword across the beast¡¯s knuckles. The Behemoth screamed, throwing Mortikahn across the street.


    Jericho saw his cousin crash-land and went to his aid. He was cut short by a howl and a dash from the murky corners of the darkened city. The Berserker tackled him, and they both rolled on the bedrock. Afraid of getting bit, Jericho dropped his sword, directing his concentration on the beast¡¯s snout. He got his hands successfully around its jaw. The Berserker got back to its feet, pushing Jericho down the road on his back. Each chomp avoided by Jericho as he handled its fangs expertly. The only fault would be lack of an escape. Jericho was trapped in the rush.


    Mortikahn got back up from being thrown. He was dazed, but he had to help his older cousin. Mortikahn whistled for his horse, and remounted while running as he caught up to them just in time to grab the arrow that Jericho imbedded into the Berserker¡¯s side.


    The Behemoth pulled Mortikahn off his horse and back into its colossal grip. This time it left the chains behind and had grabbed Mortikahn by the legs with its hand. Mortikahn now caught between a Berserker and a Behemoth refused to release his grip on the arrow; his stubbornness now saving Jericho¡¯s life. Mortikahn brought his sword in front of him to block a jab by the Behemoth¡¯s trident. The trident and the sword got caught together, as they struggled back and forth.


    During the struggle, while dangling upside-down Mortikahn noticed a weakness in the monster¡¯s armor. Where the chest piece split in two, a small dagger or arrow could slip in and clip the Behemoth¡¯s heart. This was a good way to kill a Behemoth, with all the armor and such an invincible hide, only a shot straight to the heart could bring it down. Mortikahn now knew what he must do.


    The dark wolf screamed when he ripped the arrow from its hide. This gave Jericho the chance he needed. The Berserker looked back, and he was gone. Mortikahn, meanwhile, used the arrow to prick the Behemoth¡¯s knuckles on the hand that held Mortikahn. He was able to drop back to his feet, still in a locked hold with the Behemoth. The trident entangled by his sword. He took a deep breath. Mortikahn let go of his sword, and the release sent both his sword and the trident away from them. Without hesitation, Mortikahn caught a hold of the crack in the armor with one hand and shoved the arrow he pulled from the Berserker¡¯s hide in with the other hand. Mortikahn pulled himself up and pushed the arrow further in.


    The Behemoth bellowed out a low tone of extreme pain. Mortikahn shoved the arrow up and in, with a twist, and the bellowing stopped. The gigantic monster was felled by one tiny little arrow. It now lay limp around Mortikahn. The young prince of the Steed Kingdom picked his sword back up and cleaned it off as the dust settled from the Behemoth¡¯s fall, ready for more.


    And just like the beast was doing before, Jericho became one with the shadows of the city. But the Berserker was not fooled by this tactic, it was a creature of the darkness, and could see right through the thick fog of black.


    The Berserker leapt at Jericho, but the dark wolf did not expect a counter attack. Jericho jousted forward, wound up his hips, and spun around, hurling his foot across the side of the Berserker¡¯s long snout. The kick to the face stunned the Berserker. Jericho landed and headed back for his sword. He tried to think of a solution along the way. Soon the creature was going to regroup and strike again. Jericho would be able to get to the sword in time, but then what? What would he have to do to kill a demon?


    Jericho picked his sword back up and rolled out of the way as the Berserker took another leap at him. Jericho got back into a sprint, to buy himself some time. Jericho could keep this up all night if he had to. He tried to think back, to his schooling, specifically the myths of old, about Berserkers. He had to remember what the legendary champions of good used against such powerful demons.


    Suddenly, Mortikahn came charging out from the corner on his steed, trampling the Berserker. While the dark creature was temporarily weakened, Jericho wasted no more time in deliberation over ancient legend and came down with the brunt force of his sword on its neck several times. Each execution was like a hammer stroke. The head of the Berserker was cut clean off of the body by Jericho¡¯s sword. When he held the head up to have a look at it the blood dripped on the sword and seeped into the blade, transforming its blood-stained steel shine to silver. His sword looked brand new, as if it had been re-forged right then and there.


    The two cousins awed at it and the looked at each other: Jericho catching his breath and calling for his horse, and Mortikahn sitting proudly upon his horse, keeping a fierce eye on their surroundings, ¡°I can hear them. There¡¯s more close-by¡­¡±


    Jericho got on top of his horse and readjusted himself, admiring his new sword, finally saying, ¡°Lead the way.¡± The two cousins rode off down the road, into the undistinguishable darkness.

 Chapter 85: Lake Niobi

    <h2>CHAPTER 85 ¨C LAKE NIOBI</h2>


    The boat cracked along with the wave and Anilithy¨¬stad snuck back up the shoreline to the fight. The dark troops caught him, gathered around him, and screamed, drawing the attention of the surrounding others. There was no way around them. The gang of pirates began to pile on top of him. Anilithy¨¬stad was being tossed around and thrown about as if he was an amateur in his first fight. But he endured. Before the rusted swords and pointy spears skewered him the scrappy knight threw everything he had at them. For a while the knight lost his sword and fought exclusively hand to hand. Anilithy¨¬stad knew this would not be a repeat of the bay. They only had a limited amount of these small boats to get through. As long as they survived there was a chance they could win this skirmish.


    Once he retrieved his sword he then cut down the last of the crowd that cornered him. Like a fierce predator putting down pests, Anilithy¨¬stad was unmatched. He got himself back to the frontline on the beach but was approaching on the opposite side. One advantage was that their backs were to him. Anilithy¨¬stad kept his pace and with a jolting sprint he cut straight through one, bringing his body along with him like a shield to the other side. He threw the body down to reveal his return to the twelve. Unfortunately, now there were only eight soldiers left guarding the beach. Anilithy¨¬stad surveyed the shore. He specifically remembered not seeing any boats behind the flagship, and there it was, docked and emptied.


    Anilithy¨¬stad was certain the last of the armada had docked. There were no more reinforcements. Now all they had to do was outlast the remaining soldiers; nine warriors of good against about a hundred pirates of darkness. Anilithy¨¬stad kept telling himself, and the others¡­


    ¡°All we have to do is survive.¡±


    And then he remembered and looked down for them. Only one of the cauldrons had been kicked over. The rest were still holding burning hot oil. Anilithy¨¬stad watched as his eight men held back a hundred sailors. The two horseman were still alive and containing the flanks. But just as Anilithy¨¬stad recognized that, did both horse and rider get cut apart and brought down by arrows. The other rider was also pulled down from his horse, but not dead. Anilithy¨¬stad rushed over to the dying rider, while he yelled between them, ¡°PREPARE TO RETREAT!¡±


    He got to the rider; both he and his horse were dead. The ranks of the pirate taskforce swung out towards Anilithy¨¬stad. He knew that he could not stay here. He got up and sounded the retreat. As Anilithy¨¬stad ran back he made sure each cauldron of oil was knocked over. All but one of the middle ones were, so Anilithy¨¬stad did it himself, and created a connected barrier of scorching hot liquid, covering their retreat.


    There were now only seven of them left, including Anilithy¨¬stad. The fires ate some of the sailors, but they were already adjusting their charge. Anilithy¨¬stad put his sword away for the moment and gave out a mighty whistle. The retreating troops stopped and turned around. They decided to not retreat. They stood behind Anilithy¨¬stad, ready to die. Out from the murky shadows of the beach, came a galloping figure. It was Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s horse, the gray stallion. The mighty steed¡¯s wound was healed, the arrow now gone. Anilithy¨¬stad greeted it with a soft head butt and rub of the chin. He grabbed the reins and mounted.


    ¡°Spread out,¡± he said to his men as he kicked his horse into action. ¡°We can win this fight!¡±


    He ran back towards the fires and the approaching battalions. But he did not ride straight ahead, he snaked his path, remaining hidden, and snuck up on the unsuspecting lines of pirate infantry. Behind the lines of darksiders was the Emissary and his private guard. Anilithy¨¬stad hit the lines on their left flank, his right. He cut right through the width of them, splitting them all the way down the line. The three or four lines were ransacked into one giant heap of bodies and paranoia. Unlike the Berserkers, these pirates were simple-minded tools of the shadow, mere pawns with unimpressive abilities. They succumbed to Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s sneak attack. When Anilithy¨¬stad met back with his troops, after several passes through the enemy formation, he had almost cut their numbers in half.


    Anilithy¨¬stad fought alongside only three remaining men. He finished off a flank attempt and looked back. The remaining pirates fell back into the Emissary¡¯s guard. It was over. They had done all they could. Anilithy¨¬stad led back the retreat into the courtyard. He put one of the men who was wounded up onto his horse and trotted to safety.


    Anilithy¨¬stad looked back as his horse made for the courtyard. Anilithy¨¬stad stopped.


    ¡°I am going back,¡± he said.


    The man sitting on his horse was speechless.


    ¡°And I do not want you to come with me.¡±


    The man bowed to Anilithy¨¬stad, said his goodbye, and kicked his horse to return to the Citadel. Anilithy¨¬stad turned around, without his trusted steed. And set out to kill the Emissary and his remaining legions. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    The soldiers around the Emissary started to bang their armor with their weapons. They rejoiced in the great Metuchen knight¡¯s surrender, or what appeared to be. The Emissary held his arms out. His armor was sleek shiny black metal and pointed at the fingers. He was grasping a long whip with metal-tasseled edges and a crooked sword. As Anilithy¨¬stad got closer the Emissary cracked his whip around himself.


    Anilithy¨¬stad looked at them like they were no threat. His striking arm had been properly warmed up. His blood burning through his veins with the fires of war, he was at his strongest. A slight smirk gave it away. He wanted this. Anilithy¨¬stad gave out his battle cry and charged. As he lowered his sword and pointed it at the Emissary, the assassin cracked his whip and wrapped his ankle. Anilithy¨¬stad tripped. He rolled around in the sand, trying to find the strength to get up. The blow had knocked the wind out of his chest, and the thought out of his head.


    He snapped awake and tried to get back up. At which time, the Emissary¡¯s black armored heel collided with Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s face. He fell back as the crooked sword swung above him. Anilithy¨¬stad ducked the stroke, sliding between his legs and kicked the Emissary¡¯s feet out from under him. He fell onto Anilithy¨¬stad and the two rolled around on the sandy floor.


    Anilithy¨¬stad tried to throw sand in the Emissary¡¯s face, but that was also completely covered in shining black armor, except for two small eye holes. Anilithy¨¬stad knocked the sword out of his hand and shot up. The Emissary countered with his whip wrapping around Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s sword, lifting himself back up. They both now had their hands around Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s whip-wrapped sword. Back and forth the sword was pulled until Anilithy¨¬stad let it go with one hand and unsheathed the small dagger on his leg. He went for the Emissary, but he turned around in time and snatched Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s hand, pulling the dagger from it.


    The Emissary went to cut his throat with the knife. Anilithy¨¬stad stopped him by grabbing his striking hand. They now struggled between two blades. The Emissary then released his other hand from the whip handle holding the sword and went for Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s throat. Anilithy¨¬stad dropped his sword along with the whip.


    His own dagger was getting closer and closer to his neck, and the grip the Emissary had on it. Instead of trying to keep from suffocating once again, Anilithy¨¬stad went for the knife nearing his neck. With both hands, Anilithy¨¬stad snapped the blade off of the handle and plunged it under the armor on the Emissary¡¯s shoulder. The southern champion took a step back. Shocked that someone got through his armor. He could not remove the blade from his body. Anilithy¨¬stad smiled at this observation. His hand trickled blood through his brown leather wrappings. It did not matter. Anilithy¨¬stad jumped on top of him.


    The Emissary squirmed as the giant horse lord latched onto his back and got a hold around his neck. the Emissary could not be choked, for his neck, along with the rest of his body, was completely covered by sleek black armor. The assassin heaved himself around and shook Anilithy¨¬stad off of him, punching him straight in the face. The brave warrior of the Steed Kingdom stumbled to his feet, while the Emissary picked up his crooked sword.


    Even if Anilithy¨¬stad could survive this duel, the on-looking soldiers would never let him leave. And there is no way he could kill all of them. It was useless. And there was so much more battle to be fought. Anilithy¨¬stad stumbled to his feet and prepared for the Emissary¡¯s next strike.


    In two volleys, Anilithy¨¬stad grabbed his own sword and then struck as their swords were caught together. He felt his sword slipping as the Emissary seemed to overpower him. How was this possible? All the physical evidence contrary to such a claim, between stature and recent event. Then he saw it rising off him like a hot pot of stew, the shadow. The Emissary meddled with dark magic. Anilithy¨¬stad had never faced such a foe before.


    He gave in, letting the sword fall to the ground. Anilithy¨¬stad went with the shifting momentum. He spun and hooked the legs out from under the Emissary, felling him. Anilithy¨¬stad dragged his head over to his sword, which lay embedded in the sand. He pulled the black metal head up and slammed it down into the sword. It dented the armor around the Emissary¡¯s neck.


    He pulled the metal head back up and heaved the head repeatedly into the blade. The armor was thick and most likely infused with ruins of some kind to reinforce it. It would take everything the old knight had to pierce the armor. He would have to work it and give it blood, sweat, and tears. He would have to work himself up into a frenzy. And so he did.


    Anilithy¨¬stad embraced the urge the let loose, go wild, like his ancestors along the shores with the mustangs of Metuchen. Back and forth he pulled the head up, as the limbs squirmed in utter horror below, and slammed it back down onto his castle-forged steel sword. His efforts soon broke off the metal armor, but Anilithy¨¬stad did not stop. He threw the black metal helmet away and revealed the repulsive face underneath.


    The Emissary was old and cowardly. In the Emissary¡¯s last struggle, Anilithy¨¬stad could see it all, the life of despair, his devotion to the darkness, a thirst for war, a wickedness to the innocent, and now the demise. Continuing to pin him down, he gripped his grotesque head by the few oily jet black strands of hair left and thrust it down repeatedly until there was a clean break, severing the Emissary¡¯s neck. His spine snapped, his head now completely off.


    Anilithy¨¬stad stood up holding the head of the Emissary as Axion¡¯s final red flare flew up into the dark sky above. The crowd of dark troops around him cowered at the sight of the Horse Lord savagely displaying the token of victory. He tried carefully not to show just how tired he was. His strength was fleeting, and it would take a little while to get back. Thankfully, he had been spared from most of the fighting at the walls, so he was still in his warrior¡¯s stride as they called it in the ShoreLands.


    After a couple paces back towards the city he could see it, a familiar sight, and all too welcome. Anilithy¨¬stad was picked up by his returning horse and escorted out of the Lake Niobi beach. Finally, he lowered his guard and felt the first fatigue of the day. Anilithy¨¬stad exhaled and then rallied. He rushed to rejoin the fight, but not without making a quick stop at the Citadel first, dipping into a secret entrance only made known to him by his sister, Queen Ady¨¢na for this exact purpose.

 Chapter 86: Redemption By Fire

    <h2>CHAPTER 86 ¨C REDEMPTION BY FIRE</h2>


    Axion was found by his faithful horse and rode Huntross into the congressional houses where he saw a front forming. This was one of the most visible parts of the city. Most of the buildings down here were low to the ground with few stories. But huddling in the center of the crosswalk were two joining parties of shadow meeting from the roads leading back north to the Gatehouse and the downtown gates. Axion watched as they decided whether to go left or right. Left would be the east side of the city, back towards Jericho and Mortikahn and the Necrogallion through the broken eastern wall. The Necrogallion was swift and tenured. They ran through the city with one target in mind, the courtyard.


    For now, the ragtag gang of thieves, pirates, and soldiers decided to go right. Axion simply could not allow this. He galloped out onto the road in between them and the bridge to the Citadel. As arrows whizzed past his ears, Axion rode Huntross at them fearlessly. With quick swipes of the sword, Axion cleared the group with ease.


    Some fellow soldiers of the Lion Kingdom rallied around Axion. He looked into the darkness of the east side. They were near. It was now or never. This fight would determine whether or not the city would be overrun. But from the brewing light in the north, back at the main gates, fire and carnage lit the way of a surging front of darksiders. From two angles, Axion would be hit. If he was lucky, it would remain at two. Out from the Governor¡¯s Office blew a horn. The dust shot out of its valves as it summoned the city. The door opened after the horn stopped, and out ran a soldier clad in glistening gold armor. As the warrior got closer, Axion realized who it was.


    The warrior coming to Axion¡¯s aid was none other than Demeter. The despicable governor bowed down before Axion, bidding his forgiveness and offering his allegiance. Axion leaned down before him and said, ¡°Stand, for now in the hour of our kingdom¡¯s final judgment, all the children of the Lion must fight together.¡±


    Axion held out his hand and helped Demeter up. They looked at the two fronts, growing ever closer.


    ¡°It does not matter that you do not wear the crown,¡± spoke Demeter.


    ¡°What?¡±


    He continued, ¡°You are King.¡±


    The entire gang of soldiers gathering around them in the middle of the street cheered at Demeter saying this. Axion felt his heart turn and pump with new found courage and resilience. And then a new idea popped up in his head; one thing that might make the difference necessary to win this battle.


    ¡°Reform the lines!¡± he yelled as he ran Huntross around to the front of their blockade.


    Demeter was given a horse and made Axion¡¯s captain for the skirmish. Only the gods knew where his cousins and uncles were at the moment. His plan was simple. They were guarding two streets, so they would stick together in the middle, have Demeter lead the charge against one street, while he led the other. He would also set flanking battalions on the far sides of the battlefront, so they were not caught in a double envelopment.


    They barely had any time, but measures were set, and everyone was in position. The Necrogallion was the most worrisome. Demeter and his men would be able to handle the main bulk of the Dragon Army. Axion on the other hand, would have to battle the great Necrogallion, an order of practical immortal dragon soldiers, extremely lethal. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    The two fronts hit at almost the same time. Axion was pushed back, but Huntross did not remain bunkered down. He kicked and flipped the soldier¡¯s push on them. Axion charged into the enemy lines of the Necrogallion alone. At first he cut through his enemies with ease, but as he realized how far into the ranks he was, things took a turn for the worst. Huntross was slowed and trapped. Axion jumped down off his horse. Only wielding his sword, he looked like a titan among men. The Necrogallion backed away from him at first, feeling the effects of his presence. This gave Huntross an opportunity to make a break for it. He escaped out of the enemy ranks unharmed. Axion, on the other hand, might be so fortunate.


    He swung his sword high and cut the face of one of the warriors in two. Elbowing the one to his right, he cut through the throat of one to his left directly after. He had to turn around and stay spinning to keep his back safe. Chop after chop he deflected and kill after kill he landed. But there were still too many, even for a prince. Axion began to grow tired and slow down. He was reaching the end. He screamed in frustrated rage. ¡®Not like this,¡¯ he thought. This was not how he wanted to meet his end, not before he did what he was meant to do.


    A current of troops were pushed aside as a horse galloped towards Axion. It was Demeter, coming to his rescue. Axion slipped onto the governor¡¯s horse, and they rode out of the enemy lines together. When they got back to their side, Axion had noticed their short, retreated stance. Their lines were failing. Huntross rode up next to them, and Axion jumped across.


    ¡°Get them to the Courtyard,¡± he ordered, preparing to hold them back all on his own.


    Out of the soldiers that could, they ran past Axion making for the courtyard. The ones that did not leave were slain. Now all that stood between his city and damnation was Axion. He heard a gallop beside him.


    Axion looked over¡­ it was Demeter, ¡°If I leave now¡­¡±


    ¡°Say no more,¡± consoled Axion.


    Together the two riders of the Pride charged forth against the hundreds of dark soldiers. Demeter ran in front of Axion and caught the majority of the clash. He was thrown off his horse into the crowd. Axion cut through to try and find Demeter. He ran through the lines ducking arrows and dodging strikes. He could not stay here for long. If he did not find Demeter soon, he would die as well.


    Axion jumped off Huntross once again, and together, master and horse, surrounded Demeter, lying still on the floor. But he was not dead. They protected him until he came-to. Huntross screamed into the air and parted a lane for them. Axion helped Demeter run as they both followed behind Huntross. Then Axion, with all his might, lifted Demeter up onto Huntross¡¯ back along with himself, and they rode back to the front of the line. It was too far to the courtyard for them to get away. There was no way out of this one. Axion tried as hard as he could to find an option, but there was nothing. So many times, already, he had narrowly escaped death, just to come closer again and again.


    Demeter looked back at the stampeding enemy front nipping at their ankles. He looked ahead of them at the Citadel, still some ways away. Demeter closed his eyes and backed off of Huntross, falling to the ground. Axion looked back but did not stop riding. He knew what Demeter was doing. In the hour of the nation¡¯s redemption, their governor had finally found his courage and his way to pay back his kin and country of his misdeeds and betrayals. By Demeter giving up his life to ensure Axion¡¯s return to the courtyard, he gave the survival of his race one last chance. No one could ask for more from one person. Had things unfolded differently from the start, Demeter would be amongst those revered as heroes.


    Demeter took one final exhale holding his sword before the infinite battalions of darksiders. He deflected three cuts, killed the foe in front of him, and was stabbed thrice in the gut by spears, scimitars, and swords. His air was gone. He sucked on empty winds. Demeter took solace in his sacrifice, in the fact that he was ultimately able to make up for his transgressions.


    ¡°I am sorry¡­ my king¡± he said as his body died.


    Axion ran his horse Huntross over to the courtyard but was stopped when the bridge over the moat was broken. Standing all along the edge were the soldiers he had ordered to retreat. He was almost glad to see this. He got close to the edge, wondering if Huntross could make the jump, but it was too far. The closest bridge was to their left, over in the east side of the city. Maybe, if they stayed off the roads, they could out run the takeover. He immediately moved Huntross down beside the road paralleling the moat and broke his militia off into a backfield.

 Chapter 87: Dwindling Odds

    <h2>CHAPTER 87 ¨C 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. Anilithy¨¬stad 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.

 Chapter 88: Never Too Late

    <h2>CHAPTER 88 ¨C NEVER TOO LATE</h2>


    Echoes of the fight outside got closer and closer as the battle raged on, until they were so loud it woke Commander Cel¡¯a from her rest. When she opened her eyes she saw her son waiting by her side. A brief smile flashed across Fisceron¡¯a¡¯s face before the concern took back over. Cel¡¯a immediately worried if she missed the entire battle. She sat up and rubbed his face.


    ¡°How much have I missed?¡±


    ¡°The enemy has infiltrated the city and have now entered the courtyard.¡±


    Commander Cel¡¯a sighed. It was all she could do. She wanted to cry, or perhaps go back to sleep and wait to be killed. After everything she had done, all she had risked, was it worth it in the end? The enemy was at the door. If it was down to less than a hundred men, then at least she will be able to make a difference. She stood up and wobbled but found her balance without much delay. Fiscerone presented his mother with her spear. She held it in her hand, and it was not heavy. The gods favored her this day.


    The Adoras left the Citadel and looked around for a field commander. She saw Galastad ordering troops.


    ¡°There!¡± Fiscerone pointed to the front where Prince Axion was fighting.


    Instinctively upon seeing her prince in danger, Commander Cel¡¯a yelled out, ¡°ARMS!¡±


    Before they knew it they were surrounded by a battalion of royal guards. Cel¡¯a wielded the power of the guard like a fist and blasted through the enemy forces directly to Axion. Her son ran ahead and gave her the signal. Cel¡¯a sprinted up and jumped, getting a boost from Fiscerone, the spear twirled along with her through the air and hummed a faint blue trail. The spear made quick work of all the darksiders between her and Axion, she landed right next to him, and her guardsmen followed, forming a circle around them.


    ¡°I am so glad to see you, Commander. The men cheer across the city upon the sight of your spear reentering the battlefield.¡±


    ¡°There is still hope, my prince. Is this all that is left?¡±


    ¡°Anilithyistad was last seen holding Lake Niobi beach. I lost my other Metuchen brethren in the city. Mortikahn was¡­I shouldn¡¯t have¡­ I needed to¡­¡±


    Axion was visibly shaken. Cel¡¯a tried calming him down.


    ¡°It is okay prince. He is a fierce warrior. We will see your cousins again. There has to be something keeping the entire enemy host from crushing the courtyard. I bet you it is them out there.¡±


    ¡°I had to leave them¡­to fight him.¡±


    Axion pointed ahead of them towards Admiral Zorrowfold. Commander Cel¡¯a assessed the situation at hand.


    ¡°Axion, whether you like it or not, his fight is with you. I can try to take him, but I¡¯m not yet at full strength. Our best bet is to centralize the fighting to one front.¡±


    ¡°I can beat him, but these warriors are all laced with dark magic, especially the champions.¡±


    ¡°We can beat them with technical prowess in the field. They are chaos, but we are a force to be reckoned with. Are you with me, your grace?¡±


    ¡°Let us go to Galastad, and in doing so, bring our fight to him, merging two of the biggest fronts in the courtyard.¡±


    ¡°Good idea, that might attract the smaller skirmishes around us.¡±


    Axion, still upon Huntross, led them away from the front of the Citadel to where Galastad was fighting right by the only other entrance besides the bridge Axion came over¡­Crimson Boulevard. The legions Admiral Zorrowfold had massed moved across the boulevard to where Axion and Cel¡¯a converged with Galastad.


    Like a wave crashing, the lines of soldiers swirled around each other and then dispersed back to their appropriate sides, before clashing again. And so it went, warriors on both sides died. They successfully drew all the fighting to the edge of the courtyard. With Commander Adora now back in the fight covering the prince¡¯s blind spots, he was free to be unyielding. He carved his way to Galastad. The Metuchen knight was cutting necrogallion down at the legs and leaving the killstrokes to the more timid men behind him. He must be down to militiamen, completely out of their depth and crippled by nerves. He kept them tightly huddled in front of the fallen gate like the cork to a wine jug.


    When they saw Axion and the royal guard approaching their spirits soared. The cheers greeted them. Prince Axion in his resplendent armor atop the mighty steed that was Huntross, cuting down enemies all around them, quickly completing a perimeter circle. He pulled up next to Galastad who removed his sword from a darksider on the ground.


    ¡°It¡¯s only getting worse. This will not hold.¡±


    Galastad spared no time for pleasantries. He got right to the point. This felt good for the time being, but it was not a solution. Axion flushed red with guilt. He could not say it out loud. Everytime he thought it, or someone said it he thought the same thing. There was no solution to this. They were just waiting for the end. All they could do was survive long enough and maybe help would come.


    The fight hit a stride for the resistance, repelling the darksiders from the courtyard. That was until Admiral Zorrowfold moved in along with a regiment of dark riders. Axion could see worry flood Galastad¡¯s face. Dark plated riders dispersed into the enemy ranks and then all of a sudden they were pushing back. Axion looked around. The horsemen were headed for him, massacring what allies he had left in the pursuit. He pulled them out of the fight and led them into the hedge maze. Commander Cel¡¯a could not follow and knew Axion would want her to stay as his representative in the field, so she fought along with Galastad.


    Crash!


    The southern wall fell, distracting everyone fighting in the courtyard. Spangalore¡¯s behemoth legion arrived. When the smoke blew through the courtyard, it was pushed down by the black rain, but it held. The floor emanated a layer of smoke.


    The rest of the smoke blew away with the winds of the storm only to reveal Admiral Zorrowfold approaching with his broadsword drawn. He raised the massive sword to take Commander Cel¡¯a¡¯s head. The sword hit her spear and nearly cracked it in half. He was already taking another swing at her. She raised her spear up and it took one more blow from the broadsword without cracking. She had to do something. How was he so fast with that hulking sword?


    A third strike came down on her head, this time it was stopped by Galastad. His sword chipped but that made the admiral¡¯s broadsword get stuck. Galastad let go of his sword with one hand and punched Zorrowfold in the face. The admiral yelled in frustration and jerked his sword, twisting it, snapping it up through Galastad¡¯s sword and into his chest. Galastad exhaled. His eyes trembled and his touch grew cold as ice.


    Commander Adora watched in horror as she got back up. Admiral Zorrowfold yanked the broadsword up one last time, opening Galastad¡¯s ribcage for all to see. He spilled over in a heep of guts and bones. Admiral Zorrowfold took another step towards his target as if nothing had just happened.


    Commander Cel¡¯a attacked with a spear strike. She hit him in the shoulder between his armor. Cel¡¯a drew back her spear and the tip was red with blood. Admiral Zorrowfold was furious but did not flinch. He swung his broadsword down on her again, this time with a little less power, thanks to the wound on his shoulder. Commander Cel¡¯a blocked and even though it was not as impactful as his other strikes, this one finally broke her spear in twain. Cel¡¯a anticipated it and immediately drew the short sword, slicing the back of the admiral¡¯s leg, an artificial wound intended as a distraction as she fell back.


    Before Commander Cel¡¯a retreated she grabbed her speartip. She could not bear to leave her spear broken on the floor. This was the best she could do in the shuffle. Cel¡¯a tucked the spearhead into the belt on her waist. Most of her troops and that of the militia were busy fighting over Galastad¡¯s remains. They were almost treating it as hallowed grounds. Afterall, for many of them and the rest of the kingdom, he was the hero of Port Caliber, at the beaches with them when these monsters first landed. He was an inspiration to the people of the Pride and the ShoreLands alike, many of which were fighting at Zepathorum.


    The only thing that stirred the lion¡¯s share of them out of it was the sight of Commander Cel¡¯a in retreat. She knew what the men were doing and joined them. The fact remained clear.


    ¡°We need to find Prince Axion. There has to be help coming soon. We can hold them! Hear us oh holy lorde Magnanimous guardian of the north and the golden dawn, bless us with your grace, now more than ever before.¡±


    Horns cried out to the north and east. They were not the sounds of the enemy. These were horns of the North. These were horns of the Pride. Beyond the walls of Zepathorum a mass of eight thousand reinforcements gathered. Although they were not all cavalry, they were all on horseback. From the Serengeti banners walked the son of Castle Rosi Island on Maximus the golden lion, and his father leige lord of the lion kingdom, Mercinestor Casterosi. Cipher¡¯s father kicked his horse and turned around to face his men.


    ¡°Our brothers and sisters are burning inside that city. Will we let them die in fear? No! We are the warriors of the north! This darkness will not be stopped unless we band together here this day! Ride now with me and send the darkness whence it came! The glory of the Pride will shine again! CHARGE!¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Cipher didn¡¯t have to kick Maximus, he pounced ahead as Mercinestor¡¯s sword jabbed forward. In no time they were passing his father. The lion was unnaturally fast, faster than any horse, faster than any other lion. He glided down the fields to the standing army waiting to pour into the city from the breaches in the walls. Leading up to the city they had a plan so when the moment came they showed little hesitation.


    Mercinestor was no stranger to battle strategy, fighting along side Theomitus. Such a long time ago when they were young. Turns out it ended up being perfect practice for something like this. He only wished his friend were here to guide him. Theomitus, even before he was a king, had this uncanny way of inspiring Mercinestor.


    As kids, Theo helped him fit in at the cities, having grown up on an island. On the battlefield, they worked best when the prince took charge and Mercinestor covered his back, much like Cel¡¯a and Axion. The Arkenoir¡¯s definitely had a certain way about them. When most people see a fire they run away from it. The King and his Princes were crazy enough to run right in and convince you to come with them, just in case there were people burning.


    Any other commander out on the field would order the archers to stay back, especially ones as fine as the ZenFor Archers. Instead, Mercinestor had them with the Orbaliss Paladins. The idea being that they would take the dark forces by surprise and establish a hold either inside the city wall or on it, most likely the Gatehouse, drop the archers and paladins and then create a stronghold. For Mercinestor he was worried about after the initial charge, and momentum was no longer on their side. The dragon kingdom numbers were overwhelming and too large to ignore. Mercinestor remained optimistic but also set forth certain contingencies. If they need to retreat, better to do so back into the city they were trying to defend instead of running away.


    So, the bulk of the cavalry led into the enemy host before the Gatehouse like a giant spear. Within that spear formation were the Serengeti specialty forces along with Mercinestor. The front of the tip was Cipher Casterosi riding atop the royal lion Maximus. The ferocious beast struck fear into the hearts of those that preyed on it. Cipher enjoyed the rush. This was nothing like riding a horse. The wildcat wasn¡¯t running a marathon but a series of sprints, jousts, lunges, some ending on just his hind legs, all the while not breaking his gait or momentum. The perfect golden tip for a spear.


    When riding a horse you worry about the horse bucking, up and forward, sometimes back, but never like this. Riding a lion devoid of stability, the shoulderblades dropped and ran along the ground like a river, need be, the cat could be upside-down in a matter of moments. It was completely unpredictable and exhilarating. Cipher held firm onto the lion¡¯s mane, with his sword at the ready, disposing of any darksiders foolish enough to come within his reach. They were cutting right through the enemy lines.


    Up ahead of them was a behemoth slamming into the wall with a massive sledgehammer. It was on the verge of breaking the wall. Maximus stopped dead in his tracks, for the first time since they started the charge. It nearly sent Cipher flying off his back. The lion bellowed out a roar from deep within him. The behemoth stopped when it heard the roar. Something made Cipher think¡­


    ¡°Get away from my city.¡±


    The behemoth dragged the hammer and turned for the lion. Maximus twitched and Cipher took it as a sign to dismount. Cipher grabbed a hold of the lion¡¯s golden-brown hair even firmer than before. Cipher could swear he saw a very human-like smirk peak out of the corner of the lion¡¯s mouth. They lunged forward like Cipher was getting thrown forward through time, in a blur they were up the behemoth¡¯s back. Maximus kept trying to find a place to bite the behemoth, but it was covered in armor. Cipher let loose and snatched the back plate. Maximus scurried off, careful not to get caught. Cipher followed the lining of the back plate to find where it connected. He did, and just to his predictions it was a thin piece of metal. He brought his sword down upon it and in one stroke shattered it. Except the back plate of armor on the behemoth did not fall.


    Cipher kept looking down the edge of the armor. There were small latches on each side, haphazardly spaced apart, in fact, there were two latches at the bottom. Cipher made quick work of them. Each time he felt the armor plate loosen. At the last he braced himself and slide off the behemoth with the armor plate. At that very moment two things happened. The behemoth stumbled forward, and the lion attacked. Maximus crawled back up the behemoth even faster than the first time. Cipher quickly realized being on the lion most certainly held the lion back. Instead of just sinking his fangs into the back of the behemoth¡¯s neck, Maximus locked his claws in and began devouring the behemoth¡¯s flesh.


    Cipher watched the brutality of it. The behemoth spun and lurched forward, swatting at its back, where it couldn¡¯t reach, the life slowly fading from its eyes, as Maximus chewed into its back until he reached its spine, and then snap¡­ lights out. The behemoth hit the floor, lifeless, and Maximus trotted over to Cipher, bowing down, letting him once again hitch a ride. They kept running down until they reached where the behemoth had come from, the breach in the Gatehouse.  Cipher and Maximus peeled off and continued to fight as the rest of the cavalry, led by Mercinestor, poured into the Gatehouse. The commander of the Zenfor Archers, Lady Kara Ventrilles, passed by Cipher and nodded to him. He nodded back to her and together they guarded the flanks of their troops as they fought inside the Gatehouse.


    Cipher took a moment to look past their immediate surroundings. The battle was going well. That¡¯s when he saw the golden catapults lining up against his cavalry. In a matter of moments, their barrage demolished the link between Cipher and Mercinestor¡¯s forces. Cipher held firm with the Zenfor Archers at the Gatehouse, but Mercinestor scrambled with the rest of the cavalry. Cipher watched the golden battalion press down upon them in the storming rain. This was not just the dragon kingdom at work here. The golden army had to be from Crucifire Plains where parts of the city were actually paved in gold. Only the best mercenaries came from Crucifire Plains. Cipher had to do something. Kara got his attention. She raised her sword and her archers yelled out, lifting their bows in turn and in unison. Kara waved her sword down and the Zenfor Arches loosed a volley of arrows at the catapults. The arrows struck the crew hauling the catapults, finding spots between their golden armor, to either bring them down or kill them.


    Warlord Cassius sprung onto the scene at the gatehouse and began a cavalry assault against the Zenfor Archers. Cipher and the Orbaliss paladins stepped between them and the resulting battle ensued. Cipher tried to stay on Maximus for as long as he could, but the lion was just too quick. Cipher was practically ineffective, spending most of his energy on keeping from falling off the magnificent beast. The lion was bolting between golden rider and necrogallion foot soldier. Every strike was so fast and so powerful, that combined with the lack of time in between strikes kept Cipher constantly unbalanced.


    The lion crunched down on the spine of a darksider and then lunged up for a golden rider. As they sprung up, Cipher released his grip on the lion and used the momentum to flip backwards, gracefully landing on his two feet, sword drawn. Maximus moved on without skipping a beat, but still staying close to Cipher, mostly behind him. As Cipher engaged in the fight alongside the crumbling Gatehouse he noticed the lion at work. Cipher couldn¡¯t help himself. It fascinated him. Amongst this massive battle of humans versus fallen humans and monsters, this lion champions the field. With Cipher off his hide, the royal lion Maximus was able to move even faster. The enemy warriors were avoiding it, creating a barrier for the Gatehouse reinforcements to regroup.


    Cipher fought alongside the lion in the center of it all but didn¡¯t try to do anything crazy. He kept his eyes on the battlefield and tried to find his father. The golden army was easy enough to track, but the commander had disappeared, perhaps going after Mercinestor. Cipher knew his father could take care of himself. His job was to hold down this part of the fallen wall. Who knows how much of the city¡¯s defenses had fallen? All they could do was focus on this breach, the clear and present danger. Maybe if they were lucky enough to secure the Gatehouse he could venture further into the city to find Prince Axion.


    ¡°There!¡±


    He heard an archer scream out and point to a golden rider, it was the commander of the mercenaries, he was riding back towards the catapults which were moving forward¡­right towards them. The catapults fired directly at Cipher and Maximus fighting in the breach. The shock sent Cipher flying through the air back into the city. He kicked something involuntarily and started spinning uncontrollably.


    His body twisted up and rolled against the cobblestone floor. He reached out to grab ahold of something but abruptly rolled up a piece of broken building. The second floor had crumbled down, and this part of the floor was flush with the ground of the street walk. Cipher came to a stop and took a moment to get himself up. Aside from some minor scrapes and bruises he somehow survived the bombardment. His sword was nowhere to be found and neither was the lion Maximus.


    Cipher picked up a spear and started running back to the Gatehouse. The dust from the wreckage was still dancing in the breach, getting pricked by the black raindrops. The darksiders spilled forward into the breach and surrounded Cipher. He knocked back their clumsy strikes, deflecting, letting them get into position. Then Cipher would counter their strike and bring them down before they could even think to block.


    Cipher was two or three moves ahead as they blindly attacked. Sometimes he would line two enemies up together and with one joust of the spear he dropped them simultaneously. He could keep this up until a dark champion revealed themselves. If something like that happened, he would most certainly need Maximus to return. In this skirmish, it was getting harder and harder for Cipher to keep tabs on the battle and positioning. All he could really tell was the more darksiders he cut down the closer the golden ranks got to him. Did they have infantry or was it the cavalry? Either way, Cipher alone would not be able to last long.


    The golden cavalry almost crushed their own allies as they stampeded through the Gatehouse breach. Cipher retreated to the edge of the broken wall, covering the stone staircase to the Zenfor archers. He called out and the paladins sounded off back to him. They moved forward and attacked the golden riders. Cipher ran up the stairs where Kara Ventrilles was waiting for him.


    ¡°Do you have a spare bow?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got something a little better than that for you.¡±


    She tossed him his sword. Kara must have picked it up after the barrage. Cipher caught it by the handle and they both smiled at each other.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Kara commanded the archers to split into two groups. One group continued to fire on the approaching catapults and the other group fired on the golden riders in the breach. Cipher knew it was just a matter of time until the catapults fired on them along the battlements. He needed to get the archers and paladins inside the city.


    ¡°We need scouts to report on the rest of the city¡¯s conditions.¡±


    ¡°I sent four out already. Only one has returned so far. The eastern wall is practically gone. Trampled by behemoths.¡±


    ¡°Gods have mercy.¡±


    ¡°Take your archers and paladins into the city.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°Survive.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I have to find my father.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s madness, Cipher.¡±


    ¡°I have to try.¡±


    Cipher turned to leave out where the wall was still intact and there were abandoned ladders for him to sneak back into the fight. Before he could go Kara stopped him.


    ¡°Wait.¡±


    Kara Ventrilles grabbed Cipher and kissed him. They embraced each other. Cipher saw the world as it was and what it could be if they prevented extinction. Kara¡¯s lips were soft but firm. She held his face in her hand and when the kiss was over she pushed him away, slapping him gently. Kara smiled.


    ¡°Go, you fool. Find your father but come back to me.¡±


    And then she left with the rest of her archers evacuating. Cipher watched her leave and departed himself, sliding down one of the boarding ladders. Once the wall fell at several parts around the city the fight left the initial breach before the Gatehouse. It gave Cipher an opportunity to slip behind enemy lines and began the search for his father.

 Chapter 89: Hour of the Cosmos

    <h2>CHAPTER 89 ¨C HOUR OF THE COSMOS</h2>


    When the golden catapults bombarded the gatehouse breach it fractured Mercinestor¡¯s cavalry with his son on the other side, hopefully safe. He scrambled to stay clear of flying debris, his horse still in good condition. It took every last bit of his resolve to shepherd the charge away from the barrage. Mercinestor tried to save as many as he could, but this was pure chaos.


    Those in the back ranks retreated at first sight of the barrage. Those with Mercinestor had to curl away from the golden army, everyone in between were split and turned around. Mercinestor had to choose between turning back and corralling his troops in a massive regroup, basically retreating, or pushing forward into the frey and risking the loss of one front, decreasing the odds of survival drastically.


    He wanted to push forward for the Arkenoirs. He wanted to end this madness right here and now. The enemy forces proved to be more powerful than anticipated. They had an answer for their surprise reinforcement attack in such a late hour. Mercinestor knew what he had to do. He led his charge back around to where they first broke the darksider lines. The stragglers saw Mercinestor and rallied to his banners. He led them all to where the rest of the cavalry had retreated, just beyond the city limits, in the patch of grass between the sister city and Epitaph Road.


    It would take some time to get the cavalry around into a striking position, but the numbers were present. Aside from the Zenfor Archers and Orbalis paladins at the Gatehouse with Cipher, Mercinestor still had the lion¡¯s share of the bannermen they rallied. Commanding a cavalry of this size took patience and intuitive field officers. Mercinestor was blessed enough to have both.


    Along the green grass fields getting drenched by the dark rain the serengeti cavalry turned in unison to attack the enemy at the city wall. Without warning, a paralyzingly loud screech could be heard followed by a series of sonic booms. It felt like the entire earth was shaking.


    Mercinestor panicked. Right before the dark sky broke he got out of the way as the rest of the cavalry was demolished. Massive solid projectiles crashing into the grassy plains unyieldingly. The impacts rocking MagnaThora to its core. The Dark Lord smirked. For he knew, any further damage from the fallen projectiles would doom the entire world.


    The moisture in the air vanished in a snap. What entered the sky above could be seen from inside the courtyard with Axion and Cel¡¯a all the way to the outskirts of the city where Malinor waited. The Dark Lord stood up. The moment he waited for was finally at hand. He called forth his legion of faceless sorcerers, ancient servants of the Dragon Kingdom. The Dark Lord Malinor muttered an incantation in southern tongue ¡°Forno kolo groomdi kine.¡±


    A ball of effervescent darkness, like a glowing shadow, spawned in his hand. He stretched it out and molded it as it grew. The ball grew into an orb larger than his own head as he lifted it up. Malinor spun it and finessed the edge into sharpness. When he stopped twirling his left hand, the shifting black circular saw continued to spin over his right hand. With his left hand Malinor reached back and clutched, moving his fist forward, draining the lifeforce from the faceless sorcerers behind him. They moaned in pain and struggled to stay on their feet. Malinor brought his left hand up and funneled all that power into his disc saw of necrotica. It was growing so immensely he had to throw it up into the air.


    As the flying disc, now the size of a city, soared into the sky above Zepathorum, the entirety of the dark cloud evaporated. It happened so suddenly it looked like the black clouds vanished in a puff. The rain stopped but the sun did not shine. The Dark Lord¡¯s necrotica disk prevented the darksiders from burning up. He knew the magnitude of which brought the void of moisture. Behind the vanity mask, the Dark Lord smirked. She actually pulled it off.


    The skies opened for their return. Forged from the very same fires that built MagnaThora, these eternal beasts had the capacity to decimate the entire world on impact. Such sheer forces spending all this time plummeting through space would surely have lasting effects on their physical make-up. The stardragons wielded the armor of the cosmos. The Dark Lord did not want to annihilate all of MagnaThora, not yet at least. Malinor smiled only to himself. No, he wanted to rule MagnaThora as the modern day dragon emperor, and turn everything upside-down, in order to see what happens on the other side.


    The flying disc of necrotica was built not only to replace the dark cloud as the sun¡¯s barrier, but it was also built to cleanse the stardragons of their celestial force. In other words, it slowed their trajectories enough to prevent world destruction. Some exploded before impact. Some crashed right into the serengeti cavalry and died on impact. Others pulled up in time and started unleashing their coldfire flames on the battalions in the field and the city.


    One of the smaller dragons that managed to survive the initial crash landing pulled away from the rest of the horde and started making its way towards Malinor on the hill. It didn¡¯t look like the rest. Malinor embraced the return of his sky marshal by unsheathing his reaper sword. Fathom pulled in and landed with grace before Malinor and his vanguard. He called off his guards and let them land.


    Zora sat a top Fathom. She struggled to dismount and when she did Zora fell over grasping the grass. She threw her helmet off and clutched at her throat as she turned back into an air breathing human. Fathom also seemed to be back to breathing normally, although he kept some of his celestial features.


    ¡°Let me guess¡­¡± Malinor said as he walked up to her. ¡°You flew that beast right through my necrotica along with the rest of them.¡±


    Zora sneered at him and said nothing. He thrust the reaper blade down into a killing stroke and it was blocked by Fathom¡¯s tail. The tail quickly countered and whipped Malinor off the hill. His faceless sorcerers stumbled after him clumsily, blindly.


    Fathom nudged Zora to get back on, but she shrugged him off.


    ¡°No,¡± she said as she stood up, ¡°He is going to pay for what he¡¯s done.¡±


    Zora drew her sword and held it up high for all to see, as the Dark Lord floated back to the top of the grassy hill.


    ¡°You did well, peasant.¡± the Dark Lord taunted, ¡°Now, know when to die.¡±


    ¡°Imposter! Usurper! You know nothing of the ways or the glory of the south! I will die protecting my home!¡±


    ¡°When I¡¯m through our house will claim dominion of all MagnaThora.¡±


    ¡°You are a traitor to all MagnaThora!¡±


    ¡°I am MagnaThora¡¯s harbinger.¡±


    He attacked again, but before he could close the gap between them he was knocked to the ground by crashing stardragons. Zora got back on Fathom and led her squadron of stardragons against the rest, raising hell upon the countryside. Some of these dragons were so large they attacked the Serengeti with Zepathorum in one fell swoop. In her time sailing the stars she was able to attune Fathom to the senses of some of the more benevolent stardragons. In doing so, Zora developed a kinship with them and knew when the time came, in a moment of need, they would side with her.


    Now they fought against their own kind for her. The numbers and size were against them, but it was something. Zora made her decision, and though she brought this hell upon Zepathorum City, she would do her best to save it. When all the dust settled, she didn¡¯t wish to be on the winning side. Zora wished to have a clean conscience and be proud of the life she lived, whether it ended shorter than expected or not. She made peace with herself and Lord Dracobra, the fallen dragon god of darkness.


    Malinor did not chase after her. He let Zora escape. Which worried her even more. Together with the faceless sorcerers he conjured up another dark cloud. As he passed it off to the sorcerers to put it into place, his attention turned towards the necrotica disc hovering above the city. The new dark cloud snaked across the glowing necrotica like a fog rolling in on a lake.


    Once the dark cloud was back in place he snapped the necrotica disc into perfect fragments of themselves. Everything they hit in Zepathorum turned to ash except those few good star dragons. Malinor spun nine discs around himself, they changed colors, almost rotting into purple mold. He flung them at Zora¡¯s stardragons, and they scattered. A few got caught. The discs quickly dissolved into them but did not turn them to ash. Instead from the point of impact a pure darkness grew around the stardragons, suffocating them, eclipsing them away from the rest of reality. Now wrapped in shadow they only obeyed the lord of darkness. Zora was out of allies and options.


    She retreated back into the towers of the city, steering Fathom into narrowly avoiding the remaining discs of necrotica. Malinor once again summoned his dark staff. He hit the floor with it and a loud monotonous echo rang forth into the battle. The stardragons stopped their ravaging and rallied to the Dark Lord. They landed all around him, the smaller ones up front, and the farther back they went the larger they got until so big they hovered over the ground.


    Zora watched as the Dark Lord systematized a whole new front, albeit a celestial one, against the city. These poor people. Was this really where Mitakahn came from? She flew Fathom throughout the city to get a good survey of the situation. All was not lost. The lion kingdom warriors were putting up a fight inside the city. This new wave of stardragons would crush them. Zora reluctantly directed her dragon back towards the northern gate, searching for a way to help prevent what was about to happen.


    Malinor summoned one of the necrostardragons over to be his mount. He raised himself up in the air and settled on a saddle he conjured out of thin air. The closer he got to these dragons the more his essence of Dracobra stirred inside him. It was hard for him to contain the energy within his human form. Now was the time for the final wave. He charged forth and the legion of stardragons followed him down the hill towards the city.


    A flash of golden light and a fierce roar from the south happened at the same time. After the flash of light, a heroine stood in the green field between the city and Malinor¡¯s legions. The woman was clad in green armor that was smooth and wrapped around her curves precisely, the armor overlapped like clover leafs and glowed gold around the edges. Her brunette hair was braided away from her eyes and held together by impossible golden circles. The goddess Epiphany stood against the Dark Lord. She made sparks with the gold spinning rings she held in her hand.


    Tremors drew the attention away from Epiphany¡¯s arrival. The ground shook and everyone seemed to know to look south. Malinor held his legions back. Epiphany watched with the clarity of a goddess. Mercinestor waited for the source of the rumbling to reveal itself. From somewhere in the city, Cipher and Kara Ventrilles held each other as it came into view. Commander Cel¡¯a and Axion tried to steal a view from inside the courtyard until it was right on top of them. From the top of the Citadel, Queen Adyana and Anilithyistad stood on the Throne Room balcony together, in awe at what they were seeing. The great Lion Lorde himself, the god Magnanimous, had emerged through the Orleop Threshi to come to Zepathorum¡¯s salvation.


    As the lion god walked through Zepathorum he released a healing purring hymn. It healed superficial wounds and injuries to people and buildings, putting out fires, resealing cracks, other things of that nature. The darksiders dumb enough to get in his way received a surprise. Without breaking his stride, Magnanimous roared out, bringing sun rays out from the south, towards the Orleop Threshi. This had to be magic. MagnaThora¡¯s sun could never be that far south.


    The darksiders burned up Crimson Boulevard, the only street large enough for the giant golden furred lion to pass. He walked through the breach in the Gatehouse. Finally, he stood, all four padded paws on the grass, right next to Epiphany. The goddess and the demigod. Epiphany whistled and took a ready stance with her gold battle rings. Her white wolf bodyguards appeared around her. Zora and Fathom landed next to Epiphany and Magnanimous. The goddess looked at her and smiled. It was a knowing smile. Zora was taken aback by that. Did this mysterious supernatural woman know her?


    Malinor stepped forth and laughed maniacally.


    ¡°Now this is a true showing. Do you feel important girl? Standing amongst gods?¡± Malinor taunted. He lifted his free hand up and started another of his incantations.


    ¡°Stop him!¡± Epiphany yelled out.


    Zora nudged Fathom back into flight. Epiphany shook a ring into a lasso and grappled one of the pieces of horn on Fathom¡¯s tail. She lunged forward as they flew forward. Suddenly, Epiphany was getting launched right past Zora and the dragon. She threw her other battle ring and the lasso released and formed back into a ring in her right hand. The battle ring almost sliced Malinor¡¯s fingers clean off, but he moved them out of the way in time. Except that is what she was going for. Malinor was forced to stop whatever he was summoning. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Cursed woman! Return to the NetherRealm!¡± Malinor raged black lightning out of his fingertips, right at Epiphany. She sliced two away and then dodged the others, flipping, twisting, and then having to fly away. Zora and Fathom flew close and doused him in Fathom¡¯s red fire. It didn¡¯t do much. His cloak burnt up and his vanity mask became more of a burden, but he remained unphased.


    He went back to starting the incantation, paying no mind to Zora. She turned Fathom around for another run. This time with blue fire. As soon as Fathom got into position, without looking, Malinor¡¯s left fist (the one he wasn¡¯t holding up for the incantation) engorged into a hideous claw and slammed the ground, it caused a ripple effect that launched a ciff of bedrock right into Fathom. He rolled but didn''t dodge it in time and got knocked out. Zora plummeted through the air trying to wake up her dragon before they crash landed.


    While this was all going on Magnanimous took the opportunity to attack the stardragons. They danced in the fields, and he jumped fifty feet in the air. He grabbed one by the neck, landing, and decapitating. Magnanimous roared so loud he stopped making noise that could be recognized by human ears. His roar became even louder and turned to a beam of energy shooting out of his mouth. Like a spear of light, it struck the largest stardragon, causing it to fall dead instantly.


    Epiphany wrangled her two rings over Malinor, flicked them down and then tightened them, snapping his arms down by his sides, rendering him harmless for the time being. She got closer to inspect him. She didn¡¯t know who he was¡­ Interesting. Malinor smiled under the mask. The goddess was going for the vanity mask! Malinor squirmed to reach into his belt pocket.


    Epiphany reached forth and grabbed the vanity mask by the chin. She began to lift it off and Malinor¡¯s ¡°NO!¡± shook the entire Serengeti. His body stopped being human for the moment. The dragon deity inside him emerged and mutated his presence in his rage. His eyes went blood red and the vanity mask fused onto his face, making it impossible to remove. Epiphany¡¯s golden rings began to hiss. Something was wrong with them. Malinor¡¯s rapid increase in size put a tremendous burden on the battle rings. The bottom one broke first. Malinor quickly grabbed the top ring with his now freed hand and broke its hold on him.


    Epiphany rubbed her hands together, creating a bright light. From that light she forged two long daggers. She spun the daggers in her hands. It had been a long time since she got to fight like this.


    Once Malinor caught wind of what was happening he freed the stardragons of his bidding and enraged them. They set upon the city like a storm. The great lion god chased after them. This left Epiphany for Malinor. They lunged for each other and for a second Epiphany felt a very human emotion¡­fear.


    Malinor drew on her fear like a berserker. He smirked. The white wolves howled and behind her a legion of behemoths attacked, led by the mad genius Spangalore. The white wolves attacked. Epiphany made the calculations in her head. Her drones might not be enough. In the brief half of a second her eyes twitched back to check on the wolves Malinor was upon her. Epiphany parried and dodged his black sword with her two long daggers.


    Malinor went for an overhead sword strike. Epiphany stretched her arms out as far as they could go, snapping a golden rope straight that connected the daggers. As soon as the rope snapped straight it turned everything in Epiphany¡¯s hands into one double-pointed spear. She spun it around and the momentum of the fight changed in the goddess¡¯ favor.


    Malinor lost his reserve and in an act of frustration grew his arms back into claws trying to crush Epiphany between them. When Malinor released the goddess looked okay. It did not appear to have any effect on her. Then Malinor tried to smash her again with his giant dragon claws and she dodged flying out of his range.


    It was not until Epiphany got out of range that she remembered her mission was to distract him from his summoning spell. By the time Epiphany got back to the Dark Lord it was too late. Over on the quiet shores of Lake Niobi the gem known as the Nimbus Clint harnessed on the Emissary¡¯s chest flew into the air, quickly making it¡¯s way to Malinor¡¯s hand. It landed just as Epiphany reached Malinor.


    ¡°You recognize this?¡±


    The goddess said nothing.


    ¡°You do¡­ I can see it in your eyes. You¡¯re one of them aren¡¯t you? A founder god. As I live and breathe. You must let me kill you.¡± Malinor smirked, approaching her with the stone. Epiphany could not take her eyes off of it. She knew that gem. She knew that turquoise color and exactly who was trapped within. Epiphany could not let Malinor release that Incapsulate Impernum. Luckily, Zora and Fathom were back on the offensive, having narrowly escaped their freefall from before. The blue fire poured out of Fathom¡¯s mouth. It didn¡¯t damage the Dark Lord but knocked the gem out of his hand.


    Epiphany attacked and together with Zora they kept Malinor from picking up the gem. Malinor pulled a piece of the dark cloud down into two slivers that coiled around his wrists. Once in place, he threw his hands forward, open-palmed causing a current of wind to knock Zora off Fathom. Malinor controlled the air with his cloud coils and threw Zora into Epiphany. He pulled the gem back to his hands. The coils released, and like phantom snakes they crawled down his hand and fingers onto the gem, covering it.


    A flash of light and explosion and there was a turquoise cloud taking the form of a man.


    ¡°Enjoy your reunion with what I imagine is your brother¡­Quarrel. I have business in the city.¡±


    Malinor moved past Epiphany. She did not flinch. The goddess watched as her most hated brother birthed back into the physical realm. Just like her, the god oozed and engorged as he gained control through the primordial goo of his manifestation. In a sudden regret, Epiphany felt she should have found one of her sisters first. It didn¡¯t matter now. She was going to deal with Quarrel¡¯s meddling once and for all.


    The emerging man from the warped cloud screamed in pain. It was loud, no wait, it was just close. He tackled Epiphany and with one more scream the warped cloud exploded into a flash of light and they were both gone.The ground around them sizzled in an oddly symmetrical pattern, some of the blades of grass still lit aflame.


    The giant lion met the Dark Lord in the field. What happened next, the demigod did not expect. Malinor finally let loose, he allowed the essence of Dracobra to take over. His hands and arms turned back into that of a dragon, but it did not stop there. The Dark Lord¡¯s entire body began morphing into a big belly dragon. The Dark Lord¡¯s dragon form was a colossal black dragon with gray stripes on his belly and red eyes. Malinor¡¯s dragon form grew in size until matching Magnanimous¡¯ height. All that remained of Malinor was the infused vanity mask on his dragon-face. Now it was a fair fight.


    They pounced at each other, but Malinor stayed in the air when they collided, lifting Magnanimous off his feet. They started flying up when the great lion roared, deafening Malinor¡¯s dragon form. Malinor lost his grip on Magnanimous, and he started falling back to the ground. Malinor flew down and intercepted the lion, slicing at his back with his claws. Magnanimous bit the dragon in retaliation for the scratches.


    The Dark Lord¡¯s dragon form began to grow even more in size, until it was able to grab the lion by the neck with ease. ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand.¡± Malinor said to Magnanimous, ¡°I¡¯ve already killed one of you with my own power, and now I have double that.¡± The dragon kept growing and pinned the golden lion down by its foot.


    The Dark Lord in his dragon form closed his eyes and took a long breath in. His forked tongue wiggled in a reptilian mouth. ¡°I am the god of darkness and shadow. I am death.¡± His right and left claws didn¡¯t exactly close but clenched. Then they motioned down as if pushing off. The ground besides the top of the lion god¡¯s head plummeted fifty feet down. The dragon mouth opened and poured fire onto the lion. He resisted the red fire, and the yellow, and even the blue. But when the fire spewing out of the dragon turned black it began to erode Magnanimous'' divine facade. The lion desperately tried to break free. The black fire finally turned amethyst and took with it the lion¡¯s mane and fur. All that remained was the demigod in its original form, the rubbery sea lion head. The dragon summoned the Dark Lord¡¯s reaper blade. It appeared already enlarged to match its master''s size.


    The lion tried to summon the light to burn this demon away, but it was too late. The reaper blade hit its mark. The lion god Magnanimous¡¯ head flew clean off its body. It burned up before hitting the ground.


    Malinor shoved his dragon claw into the lion¡¯s chest. He ripped through flesh and found the lion¡¯s heart, severing it. Malinor pulled it out and torched it with the fire from his mouth. It remained unharmed. Malinor tried the black fire and then tried the amethyst, having to go up the levels each time to get hotter. Malinor¡¯s dragon form could not damage the lion¡¯s heart.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    From within the city, running through the wreckage and fighting, Kara Ventrilles and Cipher Casterosi led the Zenfor Archers to the center of town. They hit a corner and the enemy attacked. Cipher cut down his darksider opponent in one strike. Kara¡¯s opponent was slightly more advanced. The darksider squirmed and spat at her as it parried her attacks. Her archers were all fighting for their own lives. She took a step back to grab an arrow from her quiver when the darksider pounced on her. Cipher got in between them and snapped its neck. The dragon warrior fell dead on the ground. Cipher looked at her and smiled.


    ¡°I happened to be in the vicinity, my lady.¡±


    Kara watched as Cipher¡¯s face dropped.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Kara was facing North of Cipher. What he saw behind her he could not handle. Kara turned back to see what it was. The royal lion Maximus lay dead off in the distance. The only reason they could tell so far away was due to how badly the poor lion¡¯s body was broken.


    In a sudden jerk, Cipher threw his sword away. He looked at his arm like he couldn¡¯t control what was happening. That same arm shot up, lifting him in the air slightly and then throwing him down. Cipher scrambled. Kara tried to help but had no idea what was going on. Finally, Cipher got his other hand on his right wrist, where his new switch-wrist was, and cranked the switch. A pocket portal opened up and the Ignaleos Cor was in his hands. The Cor was raging. There were shockwaves coming from within it turning the color of the stone all sorts of blues in constant varying degrees, it looked like lightning inside a hurricane.


    ¡°Something is seriously wrong with the Cor.¡±


    Kara asked, ¡°What do we do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I hope the big guy is alright.¡±


    ¡°You think this has something to do with Magnanimous?¡±


    Cipher stared off at the fallen lion in the distance. ¡°It''s more like a feeling wrapped in some empirical qualifiers. Like how we witnessed the god walk by before and those rumblings, which have seemed to stop now.¡±


    ¡°Then we must take the Cor back to Threshi.¡±


    ¡°You want to go all the way back to Arunidawa now?¡±


    ¡°Can you use the Cor to take us there?¡±


    ¡°Have you seen what inside of it looks like!?¡±


    ¡°We have to try,¡± Kara Ventrilles said as she grabbed Cipher¡¯s hand.


    ¡°I suppose it knows the energy signature, but I was hoping for a chance to build a prototype-¡±


    ¡°Cipher, just turn the damn thing.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he smiled. The smile immediately faded, yielding to nervousness as he gave her the Cor. Kara held the Ignaleos Cor with gentle grace. She held it with one hand and placed her other hand around Cipher¡¯s arm, holding it firmly. Cipher cranked the switch-wrist backwards, sending them and the Cor hurtling through the Corscape.


    The voyage felt like their flesh tore from their body and reapplied itself a million times within one second. They burst forth in Arunidawa before the Orleop Threshi. Cipher tripped on entry and involuntarily jerked Kara forward, sending the Ignaleos Cor tumbling. It landed between the two cosmic thresholds. The pocket portal refused to close. The Ignaleos Cor spun in place and the switch-wrist on Cipher lifted him up by the arm again. He scratched at it as it took him off the ground. Kara crawled towards the gem on the ground.


    ¡°Kara! No!¡± Cipher screamed with all his might. ¡°DON¡¯T!¡± He undid the switch-wrist and fell to the ground barely bracing his fall. He had already floated too high up. Before he could even limp over to her, Kara picked up the Ignaleos Cor and ran with it into the Orleop Threshi. The two portals screamed and expanded until incorporating into each other and bursting, dispensing throughout the underground chamber. Cipher lay crouched over crying, alone in the dark. Broken.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    The dragon bit into the lionheart and the rest of the lion¡¯s body dissipated. The Dark Lord drained the lion¡¯s heart dry, but not completely. When the primal dragon tossed away the lion¡¯ heart-husk, it shriveled up, collapsing in on itself into metamorphosis, it turned into a shining pebble of blue light. The husk blew away and the gem lifted into the air to be lost forever until such a time that the essence of Magnanimous was ready to return through the pebble.


    Malinor¡¯s eyes began to glow bright. He shook and shrank back down and into his human form, still with his glowing yellow eyes. Malinor returned to his human form with the mask and cloak and twitchy armor, everything back intact. He held out his hand and stopped the shiny pebble in midair. When he squeezed his two fingers together the shiny pebble exploded into radiant dust.


    The Dark Lord drew in a long breath inhaling most of the dust, or at least, that¡¯s what it looked like as he consumed the god¡¯s everlasting essence, its divine immortality. What little that managed to escape, too miniscule to differentiate from air, floated off on the winds. For not even a godeater could completely eviscerate the incarnation of courage and pride. To destroy the god would be to destroy the concept. Neither was possible. Malinor tapped into the raw potential that contradiction offered of paradoxical energy during his lionslaught and only grew more powerful throughout the process.


    He fell to the ground and couldn¡¯t help but lose consciousness, not before letting out a ground shaking scream of agony. The faceless sorcerers surrounded the downed Dark Lord in a circle and watched over his metamorphosis. The Dark Lord Malinor now held the power of two out of the four MagnaThoran demigods.

 Chapter 90: Citadel

    <h2>CHAPTER 90 ¨C CITADEL</h2>


    After all that utter madness the black rain continued to fall. The artificial fog drifted through the ruined northern gate of Zepathorum. Warlord Cassius waited for the smoke to clear. He still had a significant host left after the bombardment, enough to not consider retreating immediately. For now, Warlord Cassius waited for the smoke to clear with his golden army.


    When the smoke cleared only one man stood between them and the city, Lord Mercinestor Casterosi. He had no mount. He had no reinforcements. He had no way of winning. On his own golden-plated horse, Warlord Cassius called off his vanguard.


    ¡°I will handle this myself.¡±


    He drew his sword and charged at the lion lord standing in the middle of the war-torn field like an idiot, with nothing but his sword, but¡­the sword¡­was glowing blue. Warlord Cassius tried to pull up in time before the pulsewave hit him, knocking him clear off his horse. He managed to hold onto his sword after tumbling to the ground.


    Before Cassius could get up Lord Casterosi was dashing in for a strike. Cassius barely got to his feet in time and crossed swords with the old warrior.


    ¡°What business do you have in my kingdom? I know who you are fire crook.¡±


    Warlord Cassius released and took a step back. He didn¡¯t think he would hear that name so far north. He swung for Mercinestor¡¯s head with all of his might. Mercinestor dodged and elbowed Cassius in the side, almost sending him to the ground again. Warlord Cassius was clearly outmatched. He would not let his pride get him killed. With a wave of his hand, he called forth his battalions. They mobilized but it would still take some time for them to get to him.


    Warlord Cassius took a defensive stance against Mercinestor.


    ¡°If you do not want to settle this like men then I suggest you turn around and run home right now.¡±


    ¡°Or what? You will slaughter my entire legion?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll slaughter you in front of your legions.¡±


    Cassius caught the cerulean shine on the lion warrior¡¯s blade, but it was too late. He tried to lunge out of the way of a blastwave that carved through the earth right before for him. Warlord Cassius dodged it. The blast continued past him, trailing into the advancing battalion until it finally collided with a golden-armored catapult, absolutely decimating it. Cassius watched in horror. He was out of his league here. The Dark Lord never told him the lion kingdom champions wielded magic this powerful.


    Warlord Cassius turned back around to Lord Casterosi approaching rapidly, swinging his sword for the warlord¡¯s head. Cassius parried and tried to keep up. He barely blocked a strike to his left side, feeling the Casterosi sword cut into his arm. If he could just hold out a little while longer¡­ The old warrior¡¯s sword began to glow blue again.


    Warlord Cassius dropped to his knees and threw his own sword to the ground. Mercinestor Casterosi saw this and raised the krakenwreck to kill his enemy. When Mercinestor¡¯s sword went up so did Cassius¡¯ hands.


    ¡°I surrender!¡± the warlord exclaimed.


    Mercinestor held his sword in the execution position.


    ¡°I will turn and run like you proposed¡­back to my city.¡±


    ¡°And pretend this never happened?¡± Mercinestor asked.


    ¡°Yes. I will never bother myself with northern affairs again. I give you my word.¡±


    ¡°Your word is not enough, fire crook.¡±


    The moniker stung harder than a viper bite.


    ¡°My word is all I have.¡±


    ¡°Not all. Relinquish your golden armor.¡±


    Warlord Cassius did so without hesitation. This was not just a trophy demand. This was evidence if they ever decided to go to the Republic with these crimes. Cassius cared not. He was already a criminal and one of the leading members of the underground syndicate. Now only in his shirt and trousers, standing in the short winds of the ruined Zepathorum fields, Cassius tried to make his leave.


    ¡°Not so fast.¡±


    Warlord Cassius didn¡¯t think it would be so easy. He asked the northern lord, ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°Bow to me as this kingdom¡¯s avatar.¡±


    Cassius got on his knees, prostrating himself before Lord Casterosi.


    ¡°Renounce your gods and pray to my dead god.¡±


    Cassius lifted his hands up, clasping them together while keeping his head down, and chanted, ¡°Hail the fallen lion lorde of the north. I am not worthy to utter his name. I only beseech myself in sorrow and renounce any ties with the dragon god and shadow forces.¡±


    Cassius looked up. The glowing blue sword still lingered above the lion warrior¡¯s head. He closed his eyes, and continued, ¡°We beg the forgiveness of the Lion Lorde and his kin and in recompense we offer-¡±


    Slink!


    The slice was so smooth he didn¡¯t even feel it. There was a slight tingle in his fingers and then that tingle drained down his hands in a violent rush. After that he felt nothing at all. Warlord Cassius opened his eyes and saw both his dismembered hands on the ground before him, laying on a red-splashed bed of green grass.


    He screamed in a total breakdown. It was a feral yell. He didn''t even try to treat the stubs, bleeding profusely. He ran off like a wild animal towards his battalion. Mercinestor watched Warlord Cassius reach his army. They were close now. He waited to see.


    Mercinestor stood firm, one man against an entire army. The wheels of the catapults strained to make such sharp turns, as they about-faced, marching east, and south. Mercinestor was shocked, but he did not smile. He could not believe that it worked. Instead, he counted his blessings, waiting for them to get out of sight and then scurrying back to the city to find his son, rejoin the fight, and help Prince Axion.


    The appearance of the late great lion god in Zepathorum was the only break in battle within the city. Commander Cel¡¯a and her son led the remaining royal guard in battle. Prince Axion returned after dispatching his pursuers in the maze gardens. He helped curb the overwhelming front pushing into the courtyards on all sides. Cel¡¯a fought with her son Fisceron¡¯a trying to keep a perimeter up around the courtyard as every breach in the courtyard began to push in. Their biggest threat were the behemoths.


    So far the monsters had been systematically demolishing the walls and buildings dividing the Citadel courtyard with the rest of the city. Commander Adora¡¯s son kept pointing it out to her, begging her to send him with a squad.


    ¡°If we wait until they are done with the demolition it will be too late. The time to strike is now, commander.¡±


    Axion galloped in from the frey. He was out of breath but still full of vigor in the heat of the fight. He gave his orders. ¡°Commander I need a team to dispatch with me poste haste. We need to do something about the behemoths before it''s too late.¡±


    Fisceron¡¯a looked from the mounted prince back at his mother with a grin.


    Cel¡¯a exhaled. ¡°If we are going to do this. Then we all go.¡±


    ¡°The three of us. And leave the guard behind to hold the line. I like it.¡±


    Fisceron¡¯a thrusted his sword in the air and gave out a battlecry. Axion galloped away towards the behemoths. After he had made some distance from them, Cel¡¯a grabbed her son, bracing them. She took a couple deep breaths. Her spear started to glow blue. With a pivoting blue dash resembling the speed of a lightning bolt they flashed through the courtyard.


    Cel¡¯a threw her son at one behemoth. He connected with its throat, his sword struck an unarmored part of the neck and then he kicked the beast so hard in the head it flew off, leaving a lifeless body lumbering to the ground. Cel¡¯a swerved into the legs of another behemoth, unable to navigate her Ignaleos Cor magic speedshot she made it work regardless. As Cel¡¯a slid through the beast¡¯s legs she twirled and swiped, cutting the legs down until the behemoth fell to her. Cel¡¯a stuck her spear right through its head. She looked up and counted the big ugly heads surrounding her. Two down¡­only ten more to go.


    Axion came charging in atop Huntross and they all began to scramble with the behemoths. Spangalore moved in with his armored behemoth. There was the one he sat on, and steered, and two more that accompanied him as his own monster vanguard. He had them conditioned like dogs. Out of the corner of her eye Cel¡¯a saw them approaching. She had to warn the prince. But the commander knew Axion too well. As soon as she alerted him he would charge them. Right now, he was keeping the other seven behemoths occupied. Once this captain of the monsters entered the field the advantage would tilt in the enemy¡¯s favor. It was time to act. Commander Adora charged her spear. Her strength was returning. Deep in her heart she could feel Mercinestor out there, using his own gifts from the cor. Even though the lion god was dead, his boons still survived in them to help the kingdom. She clutched the spear and shot through the courtyard in a blue haze again. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°NO!¡± Fisceron¡¯a cried out.


    It was too late. His mother was gone on the other side of the fight. Cel¡¯a pounced over to the two giant guards and bounced between them. She used blunt force to confuse them, and in that confusion she cut the straps of the giant plate of chest armor on one, and stabbed the other under the chin where the skin was soft, straight through to the cranium. One armored behemoth dropped while the other lost its metal chestplate. Cel¡¯a lunged for its chest and blocked the strike with its hammer.


    ¡°Eat her!¡± the man on the behemoth said.


    Both behemoths went for her. Cel¡¯a used what little Cor force she had left to get away. As she slid out from between them she cut halfway into the armorless behemoth leg at the ankle. Instead of falling it jumped at her. This move she was not expecting. The behemoth fell on her and before she could escape, it snatched the commander. Cel¡¯a squirmed in its hand as it belly flopped on the ground.


    ¡°You fight just like that old goat.¡±


    Cel¡¯a tried to break free from the fumbling behemoth. ¡°You fight like a coward.¡±


    He positioned his behemoth in an executioner¡¯s stance, stepping on the fallen behemoth, pinning it down, and raising its battle ax. Two screams came from their blindside. Cel¡¯a looked up. To her they were upside down, but all the more glorious. Fisceron¡¯a rode with Axion atop Huntross as they charged the armored behemoths.


    Without turning around, Spangalore¡¯s behemoth swatted Axion and Fisceron¡¯a off the horse. Huntross nayed and panicked, galloping away in a frenzy, afraid for his life. Cel¡¯a tried to break free. She was stuck, her spear out of reach. If her boys did not get back up soon this would all end in horror. She had to do something. Cel¡¯a stopped trying to pull the huge fingers apart and instead nestled in trying to get to the dagger slipped into her boot. She got a hold of it and waited.


    Spangalore¡¯s behemoth swung the ax for her head, and she plunged the dagger into the downed behemoth¡¯s palm, making it spasm and jerk about. Instead of connecting with her, Spangalore¡¯s behemoth cut the head of the other behemoth clean off. Cel¡¯a got to her feet and scooped up her half spear. She almost got out of range, almost¡­


    Commander Cel¡¯a could feel the shift in the air as it came for her. She would succumb to the same fate as her son and prince. The backhand of the armored behemoth swung at her, knocking her off her feet, back towards where the boys had tumbled. When she finally stopped rolling part of Cel¡¯a just wanted to stop. Her head was pounding. There was a sharp pain in her left leg. She was all banged up from fighting the behemoth.


    The commander looked around for Prince Axion and Fisceron¡¯a, but they were nowhere to be found. It didn¡¯t matter. Spangalore¡¯s behemoth was charging right for her. This was not over. Commander Cel¡¯a braced for impact. She searched for anymore stored up Cor force, but there was nothing left. She had to find it in herself to fight on, against the odds, when she had nothing left.


    The man above the behemoth laughed. She couldn¡¯t believe it. He was truly mad. This was a total nightmare. Never did she think it would end like this. The behemoth¡¯s ax clashed with her spear, and it took everything she had not to go flying back. A couple more of those hits would knock her off her feet. She needed to strike. Cel¡¯a lunged forward and had to dodge almost right away as the behemoth swatted at her with its freehand.


    She rolled away and smacked right into its ax, which struck the ground directly in her path. How was this thing so quick? It almost predicted her movements. Cel¡¯a tried to roll away, but it was too late. The behemoth grabbed her and once again she squirmed in a behemoth¡¯s grip. This time she had her spear. Cel¡¯a poked at its knuckles with the point of the spear as she was lifted into the air.


    The behemoth dropped her, and she fell on her bad leg. Cel¡¯a struggled to get up as the behemoth raised the ax. Cel¡¯a looked up at the behemoth, behind the ax, came a wild light from the dark cloud. It was fire. A yellow fire hit the back of the behemoth. It immediately dropped Cel¡¯a and ran away.


    As the behemoth ran away the fire chased after him, revealing the profile of its source. The black dragon controlled its fire masterfully, lighting the path and melting the rest of the behemoths. Cel¡¯a had no time to watch. The darksiders were closing in on the behemoth¡¯s wake. With the calamity of the behemoth¡¯s being over the commander was able to survey the area and locate the boys She rushed over, her son was trying to wake up the prince.


    Commander Adora got to her son and hugged him. They both looked at the prince.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do, mom.¡±


    ¡°Where is his sword?¡± asked Cel¡¯a.


    Fisceron¡¯a picked up the prince¡¯s sword and handed it to her. She knelt down next to the prince and put the sword in his hand, wrapping his grip around it. As soon as she firmed his fingers around the handle, Prince Axion¡¯s eyes snapped awake. He got to his feet and looked around.


    ¡°Battle report, commander.¡±


    ¡°The behemoth have been destroyed by what looks like a dragon.¡± She pointed at the winged beast spewing red and yellow flame over the remaining behemoth.


    Axion took one look and told them, ¡°There¡¯s a rider on that dragon.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Fisceron¡¯a said.


    ¡°I''ll take all the help we can get, even if it''s an enemy mutiny. Follow me!¡±


    Axion led Commader Adora and Fisceron¡¯a back into the frey toward the dragonrider. He knew the admiral would not have this sort of small victory against his monster battalion and would send his top warriors for the rebel dragon in response. There was an opportunity here Axion had to act on. And yet in the back of his mind he felt like their time was still running out. There was some notion of withdrawal, like this was still not the full capacity of the enemy¡¯s force. What troubled Axion the most was the absence of this Dark Lord. If he really was so powerful, what did he wait for?


    They carved through the chaos of the courtyard. In all of the madness they lost track of the dragonrider. Axion found Huntross and led them all back to the citadel. Before the main doors of the citadel held firm the last perimeter of survivors: royal guard, metuchen cavalry, militiamen, and now ZenFor Archers and Orbalis Paladins.


    ¡°They did it!¡±


    ¡°The Casterosi came through!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned.¡±


    ¡°They brought the best of the Serengeti with them.¡±


    Prince Axion, Commander Cel¡¯a, and Fisceron¡¯a all returned to the ranks and the soldiers cheered. Together they all fought harder than ever. Commander Cel¡¯a took point with her son at her side. Prince Axion fell back to the actual citadel doors, so he could anticipate any enemy flanks.


    Axion promised himself, as he watched Admiral Zorrowfold send his endless horde of dragon warriors at him, that he would get Huntross out before it was too late. He would only get the chance at a couple of charges before they were surrounded and overrun. He would have to keep his back to the doors of the Citadel and be the last of his men to fall.


    The first flank of dark soldiers came crashing down on Axion¡¯s ranked formations. Axion rode Huntross out and engaged them, as he cut up the diagonal middle. He fled into the maze and came rushing back out on the flank. He cut the heads off of the soldiers from behind, showing them no mercy. He trimmed them off, as many enemies as he could, no matter what the cost, even if it was integrity. Meaning he had no problem stabbing these pawns in the back. His nation was to live on. He will not be the one who lets everyone down, even if it means fighting dirty.


    One last time he rode into the surging storm of dragon kingdom soldiers and then returned to the back by the doors of the Citadel. From the back, he could see over the bridge, there marching within the ranks of soldiers were more Behemoths and Berserkers, accompanied by the rest of the darksiders. They came from all Zepathorum City, the Serengeti, and Port Caliber¡­ the entire Pride. The extermination was finally at hand.


    Axion was the heart of it all. He wished he could summon the power he needed to truly destroy this wretched evil; for if the gods could only give him the ability to do so, he would not use it in waste, but in glory.


    Axion dismounted Huntross and sent him away. He grew to love the animal quickly. He knew he would not have another chance to save the young horse¡¯s life. The time was now. He smacked the horses ass and it almost seemed all too glad to escape the battlefield. The last Axion saw of Huntross he was running north through the buildings.


    Axion clutched his hand around his sword and posted up against the barricaded doors of the Citadel. He looked forth at the center of the Courtyard battlefront. Something over there both intrigued him and compelled him to leave his post. Cel¡¯a looked on in fright. What could possess the prince to leave his post?


    Dodge. Kill. Block, kill. Kill, duck, kill. Flip. Kill. Block, kill.


    Axion made his way to the spot. There was Admiral Zorrowfold, standing amongst the storms. After a mild downpour, the black rain current began to kick up the mist and sent funnel black winds into the air. The churning tension separated Axion and Zorrowfold from the rest of the battle.


    The two champions collided in a lonesome match. Zorrowfold jumped at Axion, and they clashed swords. Zorrowfold¡¯s giant dark metal sword cracked Axion¡¯s shining crimson-pommeled sword in two. Axion, infuriated, threw both of his fists forward, punching the admiral off his feet. Axion cut deep ember sparks into the night, unseen by all but the gods.


    The storm ripped open above him, and he released his broken blade. The access was granted, and the seal received. He couldn''t help but look away from the battle. The prince¡¯s gaze was fixated upwards. For the awesome power of the atmosphere was singing to him, beckoning onto him, calling Axion closer¡­


    A brief stop at the citadel turned into a major sidetrack when Anilithyistad witnessed the battle of the demigods from the throne room with his sister. He bid farewell to her and started his descent down the tower. Once again he succumbed to the fate of the Zepathorum City Citadel spiraling staircase. This time he was going down, so it wasn¡¯t so bad.


    He had to circumvent the barricaded main exit in order to get out. His sister the Queen of Zepathorum showed him the secret entrance long ago. He used it in times like these. It took him in a roundabout way to get outside. This would ensure the secret egress would not be used against the royal family if found out about. There was only one way in and one way out of the citadel when it was locked down, and neither crossed paths with each other. Anilithyistad would basically get dropped out into Lake Niobi, forcing him to double back.


    He almost forgot it was raining. He reentered the courtyard arena, running through and over the lines, cutting down copious amounts of enemies, he searched frantically for his family. There was no sign of Mortikahn or Jericho, or even Paxikahn. That was a long shot, but he expected Galastad and Axion to still be in the courtyard.


    He cut down another darksider and led a squad of sequestered militiamen towards a rooftop vantage point. With it only being a raised terrace, they were able to sweep through and root out the enemy quickly. Anilithyistad set up a perimeter so he could survey the area. It was raining harder than ever now. The wicked stormcloud rampaging above the city.


    ¡°AXION!¡±


    ¡°WHERE IS AXION!¡±


    His yells were heard by Lord Mercinestor Casterosi finally getting to the courtyard. He called for the Metuchen knight.


    ¡°The city is overrun, Anilithyistad! This is all that remains!¡±


    ¡°We must find the boys!¡± he yelled in the spirited rain. Anilithyistad couldn¡¯t help but notice that Cipher was also missing. The more the storm raged the more difficult it became to see anything.


    Despair was growing in his heart. They were losing and horribly outnumbered. If he could not find Prince Axion all would be lost. A light opened up from the sky, giving Anilithy¨¬stad a better look at the battlefield. In the strange stream of illumination, he found his nephew exactly where he thought he would be¡­ the center of the courtyard. Except Axion was not fighting.


    Prince Axion just stood there, unarmed, and looking straight up, into the sky, at the light.


    End of Part Six

 Eleventh Interlude: Envy

    <h2> </h2>


    <h2>ELEVENTH INTERLUDE - ENVY</h2>


    Not too long after his journey outside MagnaThora, Malinor was spit back out into the wastes of the Soutlands. He punched the ground in pure outrage. He was furious and worst, he had no idea how to stop getting so mad.


    He now knew the truth. The sadness to it all. He resented every last fiber of this life. He looked around and felt mad. He felt as if it was all wrong and he needed to do something about it. Something sadistic.


    He needed to show them. He needed to show all of them. This was the only way. They would never listen otherwise. They would stay here like cattle. Not knowing what else was out there, pulling the strings. All the while waging war on themselves to keep distracted. Well, Malinor would speak to them in a language they would understand.


    He would bring the old ways down. He would topple and overthrow. Malinor wanted to bring the old world to its knees and have it bow down to a new order, one of his own. Malinor knew this all sounded mad but it was necessary. He was not crazy, he was just the harbinger of MagnaThora¡¯s apocalypse.


    Since his rebirth started in the South, he decided to first revisit his old friends, his captor and his torturer. If he remembered correctly they had made a deal. For Malinor, holding onto his past life was like holding onto a needle while dangling off a cliff. It took everything he had. Because for now, he needed his past life. The connections he had made through his trials and tribulations would be essential for his plans to succeed.


    Yes, it was all coming together for him now. He could see how the world moves and how his hand would guide it. First he will need an army and then he will need a target and he could think of no better one than the Pride. He new firsthand that the city of Port Caliber was vulnerable. That was his way in. Once he sacked Caliber and destroyed Zepathorum, knocking the Lion Kingdom off the board, he would take out the rest of MagnaThora. The Arkernoirs had old power. One of the last of the founding tribes. Them and the Callisters in the Woodlands would be Malinor¡¯s largest threats.


    One by one he brought the commanders of the Dragon Kingdom under his heel. Zorrowfold and Spangalore were easy, and after that, and their confirming his audience with Dracobra the dragon god itself, his seal as the Exhalted One was official. Malinor was given the full resources of the South; what little they had left after ages of persecution for their warcrimes. They wanted to call him Dragon Emperor, and The Returned. But he would not let them. He knew his own limitations and where he sought out more power. He put the vanity mask on and told his followers to hail him as the Dark Lord of all things, right now the South, but soon to be Greater MagnaThora, and eventually, the rest of the world.


    His final stop was back in Crucifire Plains. He sat at that same tavern without his mask, without his cloak, without his armor, without his titles, a plain looking man. He had himself a drink. The first one in a long time.


    Malinor remembered back when he was sitting in this very same establishment, utterly lost and without purpose. Now he was overwhelmed with the stuff. He took everything he had to keep his demons at bay and stop from leveling this place, this dump, this sorry excuse for a tavern.


    Malinor was here for a reason other than nostalgia. He had another drink. One of curry. One of hops. And then left for the night. When he exited the tavern he ran into a familiar face. It was the man who had originally hired him to journey south for the wall.


    ¡°I heard you were back,¡± said Crooms.


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And what did you find?¡± asked Crooms.


    ¡°An entire world more terrifying than you all imagined.¡±


    ¡°You must come with me at once,¡± he commanded Malinor, ¡°My employer is expecting us.¡±


    ¡°By all means,¡± Malinor said, ¡°We must not keep your master waiting.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Crooms did a double take at that. Changing employer to master was an odd slip of the tongue. Crooms shook it off. They took a carriage into the heart of Crucifire Plains, to the Golden District. It was called that because every building, street and permanent fixture was covered in gold. Malinor was being brought to one of the most infamous warlords in Crucifire Plains. Crooms took him deep into the headquarters of the Golden City Syndicate, to meet his employer Warlord Sherman Cassius.


    ¡°What do you have for me?¡± Warlord Cassius asked, sitting at a desk, turned away towards the window, with his elbows on the armchairs, hands together in front of his face, fingers interlocked.


    Malinor sat down in the chair across from the Warlord at the long table. On the other side of the table from him sat all of the Warlord¡¯s lietenants and officers. Most of them were glaring at Malinor as if he was going to try something. He sat there, relaxed. Not giving away his intention until he spoke.


    ¡°I think the question is, what do you have for me?¡± asked Malinor.


    Everyone on the Warlord¡¯s side of the room held their breath until he laughed, and then they exhaled.


    ¡°What you found must really be that good to imbue you with such confidence.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea. I did not just breach the Southern Gates, I explored past the boundaries of Greater MagnaThora. And what I found would tear your mind apart, it nearly did my own. You ask me what I have brought you? I now control the combined host of the Southlands and the Dragon Kingdom.¡± Malinor stood up.


    Every guard, lieutenant, and officer in the room armed themselves and got ready to fight. All except for Cassius who watched him. Malinor did not take out a weapon, but his vanity mask. When he put it on, a dark cloaked appeared on his back. It was there the entire time just invisible to the naked eye. His voice changed as he spoke through the mask. It was deeper, darker.


    ¡°I am going to wage war against MagnaThora. You are the only one who will get a choice. Are you with me or against me?¡± the Dark Lord asked.


    The guards in the room moved on him. Without flinching, Malinor raised his hands and created black daggers out of thin air, one for each guard. They all flung at a specific target and dropped them. The guards were dead. Then, very quickly, all at once, Malinor made another batch of dark daggers that shot out and pinned the rest of the people in the room to the walls. Everyone except for Cassius, who was now standing, facing the Dark Lord and trembling.


    ¡°What the hell are you?¡± Cassius asked.


    Malinor smiled from under the vanity mask. He made a fist with his hand that was already sticking out and turned it. The desk inbetween them flew out of the way and exploded into a million pieces. Warlord Cassius wasted little time after that showing of strength. He knelt down before the Dark Lord.


    Malinor put his hand in front of Cassius¡¯ head, now at the same level. He extended his fingertips to indicate possession.


    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡±


    ¡°As you wish¡­ my lord,¡± said Warlord Cassius reluctantly.


    ¡°I will require two thousand troops along with a fleet to sail my army to the North.¡±


    ¡°I have no ships, my lord.¡±


    ¡°No, but you have the money to buy them. Relax, Sherman, all you care about is money and so you will keep enough to maintain your luxurious lifestyle. I do not wish to take everything from you. For now, you can keep your little empire here in the city as long as you can support my endeavors financially. When the time comes, I will call on you to attack the Pride from the Southeast as I do so from the Northwest.¡±


    ¡°I have tricks, my lord.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°Catapults¡­ I can provide you support with modern warfare.¡±


    ¡°Yes, bring everything you can muster. I fear the royal family will not go down without a fight. For that, I have something else in store. We will attack them on all fronts. And when we raize the North to the ground we will use it as a foundation to take the rest of MagnaThora.¡±


    Warlord Cassius could not believe his ears. Could this really be what he was waiting for? At the end of all this he might be finding himself sitting atop the golden center of Crucifire Plains, lord of the city, like he always wanted. The warlord smirked and raised his hands up over his head from his postrated position in reverance.


    ¡°Praise the Dark Lord and his coming. Long have I awaited this day, a chance to meet a herald of the south, of the gods.¡±


    ¡°Not just the gods,¡± Malinor corrected.


    ¡°Then what?¡± asked Cassius.


    ¡°I am the great arbiter of change. I am herald to the end.¡±

 Twelfth Interlude: The Lioness

    <h2>TWELFTH INTERLUDE - THE LIONESS</h2>


    Through a chaotic channel of fate and luck the most miraculous outcomes can occur. This was what drove the world to new frontiers. It didn¡¯t take long for Gabriella to return home from Compis Falls. The only problem was what the lioness returned to. The Serengeti burned before her eyes. She did her best to seek out the remaining lions of the Pride.


    There were not many prides left throughout the Serengeti. Even the royal bloodline of Zepathorum had dwindled to two, her and Maximus. If they were to perish it would sever a crucial link between the countryside and its avatar. Once she found as many other lions as she could from Arunidawa up to Cubbet Downs they made there way to Zepathrum.


    By the time Gabriella and the lions returned to the city it was completely under siege. They used the treelines and savannah glades to sneak past the retreating Golden Company and their column of catapults. The lioness could sense the Arkenoir heir within the city walls, her instinct to keep the prides alive told her to avoid the city. Her lioness brain made simple calculations. She roared and called forth all the oldest males. The rest of the prides would head back east towards the Woodlands.


    The lioness was willing to give up the end of an ancient bloodline, the last descendents of Magnanimous, in search for Maximus and to aid the Arkenoirs. Not even twenty lions, as well as Gabriella approached the east gate of the city, already demolished by the behemoths. Chances were they would¡¯ve made quick work of infiltrating the city, but they would never get the chance.


    There, waiting for them, were a pack of berserkers, the dark wolves sent out by the Emissary before his fall. The demons had originally set out for Commander Cel¡¯a. The scent of the lions on the wind distracted the berserkers from their mission.


    The vanguard pride came all this way just to fight to the death before getting a chance to even enter the city. The lioness¡¯ survival instinct outwitted her predatorial senses. Another, roar and the lions shuffled into retreat formation. They weaved together with a couple doubling back to intercept the rapidly approaching berserkers. Lions feel no fear, and so the berserkers¡¯ spells were useless. They would fight each other beast against beast.


    The lions and the dark wolves both went for throats. The lions¡¯ bite did a lot more damage. As much prowess that the lions had over the wolves, they were barely wolves at all, but supernatural demons, and not so easy to kill. The lions carved chunks out of their mange hides with tooth and claw until they were brought down and devoured. Gabriella escaped with all that were left.


    The sacrifice of the few lions mattered not. They fed the beast. The bloodlust made them crazed. With glowing red eyes, they caught up to Gabriella and the last of the vanguard pride. One by one the male lions fell behind her. Every time they went up against the berserkers it would end in their ultimate demise, no matter how valiant the effort. A lion could bite a dark wolf¡¯s throat clean out and shadows just swirl in, materializing its flesh around the throat like it never happened. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    As the last fell, Gabriella knew it would soon be her turn. The end was nigh. The rest of the prides escaped, and Maximus could still be out their protecting the Arkenoirs. As a champion of the Pride and the Serengeti, Gabriella did her part to preserve the lions from extinction. Just by getting Mitakahn to safety in the first place, she ensured the survival of the Arkenoir bloodline.


    A bluish haze slipped into the air. It looked like it was being caught in the sunlight but there was no sunshine. The dark clouds still ruled the skies. No, it was a gold shine on the bluish haze, messing with its appearance. Gabriella did not have time to notice, running for her life. No morsel of awareness aimed at the haze approaching her face. The lioness inhaled the remnant essence of Magnamious and embodied the golden shine in all its magnificence.


    Once fully integrated she ran faster, gliding across the rolling grasslands, outmanuevering the berserkers, outpacing their every attack. Something else felt off to her. She was no longer herself, but a different form. Something was changing inside her. She ran for a greater purpose now.


    The head wolf cried out a grevious howl and the ones falling behind cried back in tone. They all fell into the shadow winds and merged together with the lead berserker. The dark wolf sped back up. Gabriella would have to fight after all.


    The lioness turned to face her pursuer. She radiated light. With her breast out she roared into the air, shaking the clouds above her and grew larger in size and fierceness. The lioness used the light of MagnaThora that now embodied her to push on the dark clouds above. Everywhere her essence searched to bring forth the light. Finally, it chose her eyes.


    Just like the shine her fur was giving off, a purified version poured from the golden rings of her irises. The rings drummed forth, expanding vertically in rows around the berserker. It did not cower from the rings of light but attacked them, bit them, chewed on them. This was not the end of the fight but a distraction. Gabriella watched as the rings of light perished, just like her lions. Darkness devoured all. But not her!


    Two of the last rings of light stopped and reformed. The light magic transformed from rings to wings and attached themselves to Gabriella as she pounced through them. Soaring through the air, she dove at the berserker. Her claws sunk into its hide, tearing it to shreds, while she bit its throat. The dark wolf was stripped to peices, but the shadow brought it back together. That¡¯s when Gabriella took it up into the sky.


    As the berserker healed in her grasp she flew them into the dark clouds, her wings of light cutting through the artificial clouds like butter. The berserker regained full health and slashed Gabriella right in the gut before they made it through to the other side.


    The lioness flew above the dark clouds dooming Zepathorum and burned the berserker to dust in the sunlight. The wings of light grew larger in the sun. The split in two and covered her in a cocoon. The lioness had suffered a mortal wound. She was dying, but that was not all. The essence of Magnanimous would not be trapped in death with her.

 Chapter 91 (of 100): Flight of the Phoenix

    Part Seven: Age of Solstice


    <h2>CHAPTER 91 ¨C FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX</h2>


    Mitakahn opened his eyes. He could feel his hand. It was still connected to his body. He pulled in his arm. And his gauntleted hand came back with a gift of miracles.


    A huge sword made of dark charcoal steel still smoldered after its renaissance. Mitakahn was awestruck. Euphrati could not believe it. Anilithion gasped and Humbler smiled. Tron praised the gods and Excelsior looked like he knew the whole time while Orion had only the slightest idea of what was happening. Bridger wanted a look for himself and Kunezar simply could not believe it.


    The handle was strapped in brown leather and embroidered with an emerald clasp in the center, dividing the two-hand grip. The long blunt blade looked like it was carved out of crystal. The hot metal simmered. Smooth ruby red crystal panels lined the subtle edges on the blade.


    The cave walls around the altar reflected the reddish glow. The sword had a slight curve going down the side. This discreet feature gave it a distinguished look. Resembling a flame-like curve down the center of the blade. There was an inscription. Translated into common tongue, it read, ¡°Burn High, the Hearts of Heroes¡±.


    It tingled in Mitakahn¡¯s hand as he read it. He could feel the heat from it through his silver gauntlet, but it did not hurt. The prince finally held the sword and yet no fire emitted from it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Was he not the hero?


    Mitakahn was putting the puzzle together in his head. Maybe he was never meant to wield it. Maybe the reason he needed the glass jar of his father''s dying breath was for this very moment. This was supposed to be how Mitakahn brought his father back, the true hero of their story. Theomitus was always more of a champion of the people than any of them. If there was anyone who could save the day it was the one true king. This whole time he was keeping hope alive in the back of his mind, hope in the idea that this sword was for his father.


    ¡°The Sword of Heroes, the Crucifire Sword you¡¯ve done it! You have found the ancient blade of the Gods!¡± Nikoli praised. He seemed to be the only one excited, clearly missing whatever the others knew. If it was not clear for Nikoli it became so once he saw the look on Mitakahn''s face. "It does not light for you. Which means¡­it is not meant for you."


    "Who then?" Anilithion asked.


    "A king who is worthy." Answered Excelsior.


    Tron walked up to Mitakahn. He had a knack for insinuating Mitakahn''s thoughts, as if present in his mind. "It was never going to be what you needed it to be." Tron said.


    "I don''t understand," Anilithion spoke for the group.


    ¡°This whole time I knew there was something missing. I kept it secret from most of you, right next to the guilt I feel for my father''s death. The two are connected in that sense. Above everything else, I was quietly convinced this would restore the King in the Pride, but I never understood how¡­¡± He told the group, but looked at Euphrati, ¡°Until this very moment, with it staring right back at me.¡±


    ¡°So, what are you proposing Mitakahn?¡± Bridger asked him.


    ¡°Eberlyn?¡± Nikoli interrupted, finally getting a good look at Euphrati¡¯s face, ¡°Baby Eberlyn¡­can it be?¡±


    Euphrati looked over at him, ¡°Did you know me?¡±


    ¡°Know you! I was your father¡¯s best friend. It is because of him that I sit here before you today. He was the Gatekeeper long ago, and I was the one who took his place so he might go after your mother, my¡­sister. I¡¯m your Uncle, Eberlyn. I¡¯m sorry I never looked for you. Even if there was a rumor of your survival from the¡­But that was a long time ago¡­.¡± He gave her a grim look of failure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Euphrati needed no more proof than the look in Nikoli¡¯s eyes. All her doubts were finally put to rest, all questions solved. Now it was time to do the same for him¡­This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°My father carried me away to a small town in the mountains and they raised me to be decent and true,¡± she explained, ¡°I return to you now to tell you there is nothing to fear. I am happy. I am fulfilled. I thank you for your sacrifice to the holy flame.


    The fire behind him began to grow larger as if dialed up too high. The infernal door was growing wide for an entrance. Nikoli took notice of the shift, something he had been trained to anticipate.


    ¡°I cannot take you back to your palace myself, blessed prince¡­¡± as Nikoli spoke, the mountain shook, and the air became thin, as though it was being sucked out of the room by the portal, ¡°but fear not, for hope can take form in the most uncanny of vessels.¡±


    And with that, out from the Flame Eterna opened a gateway of fire and the Mighty Phoenix, Lorde Alphatross, God of the Mountains and Skies, returned back into MagnaThora, the realm of man, for another flight.


    With this magnificent sight, Euphrati¡¯s eyes burst out of belief in bright red flames. She was overcome by blissfulness and gave utter praise to her tangible god. The fire in her eyes spread throughout her body. Once covered entirely, the flames grew thick and Incapsulated her, burning her clothes off. The fire was confined around her like a cocoon. It refined and out from the back of her shoulder-blades were glorious wings. Made of long dark flaming feathers, they covered her rebirthing body. The flames were pressed and dressed her in a tightly woven auburn gown. The Phoenix baptized her with its inner flame. Her wings caught the flame and set on fire, giving them a more robust red coloring compared to the rest of the tribe. This was a flame straight from the holy source. Euphrati was once again Eberlyn¡­and home at last.


    In her revelations, she discovered Mitakahn¡¯s breakthrough for herself. Eberlyn turned towards him. With her newfound sense of purpose, her voice flowed out in melodic waves of cathartic heraldry as she gathered the attention of the room, gracefully lifting into the air for the first time.


    ¡°I will take the sword to Axion.¡±


    Mitakahn bowed his head to her. He held up the sword with both his hands. The sword that he had fought so hard to find, he gave away with no more than a thought. It was in this humility that Mitakahn could finally comprehend the final truth: Yes, he was meant to find the sword, but destiny would never allow him use of its powers for himself, or to bring King Theomitus back from the dead.


    Deep down, in the pit of his stomach, he knew there was no bringing Theomitus back. This was what the gods had always intended. Perhaps they were not yet done with him.


    Mountain guards ran into the altar room, ¡°My lord! Word from our scouts¡­ Zepathorum is under relentless siege!¡±


    Chronis cawed out on Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder. The silver bird waved his wings and pulled them together to chime a signal of tones. The Phoenix cried out and burned a hole in the top of the mountain. Upon the disappearance of the mountaintop and the appearance of the sky, the company saw six humongous chrome-faced condors soaring above.


    Soldiers of the Phoenix, these ancestral titan birds ruled over the skies of all MagnaThora. Up above the clouds was Legacy City, the only stop between MagnaThora and the Afterlight. There are only two ways to get to Legacy City if you are not a bird, and one of them is the Observatories in Mount Fire.


    They were pure white and brown birds with a dark gray line going down both sides of their bodies, and over-wide wingspans. Their shining metallic faces moved and breathed, and their hearts beat, but they were so full of magic that they coexisted in harmony and dealt only in eternity. If their bodies were destroyed they did not die, for they were timeless beings, and, like the Phoenix Kingdom, blessed offspring of the ancient Sunbird God. The essence of their being would ascend into their chrome masks, returning to Legacy City to attach itself to a new condor.


    They landed, one by one, before the Altar and picked up the company. Anilithion went on one, Tron mounted the next, Excelsior on another, Bridger got onto the fourth one, and Kunezar and Humbler the fifth and sixth. Chronis cawed out once again and used the gathering of such fury to morph into a version of himself as big as a condor. The giant silver-tailed hawk landed next to his friend the canine and picked Orion up by the extra fur on the back of his neck and shoulders, to fly beside the condors and their human counterparts.


    Mitakahn watched Eberlyn spread her elegant wings and rise high into the air for the first time, while the rest of the company took off behind her. The Phoenix launched into the air behind him, growing larger by the second, swooping under Mitakahn¡¯s legs, and flew out of the mountain high up into the sky.


    Nikoli stood from his seat and ordained with his quickly fleeting words, ¡°Go Now! Son of the great King Theomitus with the Centennial Flight of Alphatross, Lorde Phoenix and God of MagnaThora! May you be blessed, he who walks amongst the Gods!¡±


    They traveled at unbelievable speeds, blurring the passing scenery of the ground to gray. Without a moment to be spared, they journeyed across the countryside and got to the dark cloud that was eclipsing the Pride. Mitakahn rode atop the Phoenix, not sure if he was really sitting on anything at all. He felt no seat or saddle. And he could only see ramped flames burning all around him. Mitakahn thought of himself as floating on the sun.


    He let himself go and took it all in. He might not be intended for the crucifire sword but look where he sat: conquering leagues of distance in a short moment, flying effortlessly through the sky, and of course, the raw divinity carrying him, bleeding essence together with him. Mitakahn felt a new kind of energy. He looked down past the blurred brown and gray at the world with renewed eyes. What he saw was beautiful and worth preserving.


    Then an imperfection came into view. It was bizarre seeing the dark storm clouds from above. What a majestic comfort did it behold; being above the darkness. The Phoenix moved to the head of the convoy and shot a funnel of fire out from its mouth, burning a tunnel into the clouds, creating a passageway to the other side. The light poured into the hole in the cloud and shined through to the Zepathorum Citadel courtyard battle raging on the other side. Eberlyn carried the sword into the clouded tunnel with everyone else following behind her.

 Chapter 92 (of 100): Legendary Makings

    <h2>CHAPTER 92 ¨C LEGENDARY MAKINGS </h2>


    Axion looked up and put his hand in front of his eyes as the light shined down upon his face. It made him feel rejuvenated and refueled. The enemies surrounding Axion caught in the light fell worthlessly to the ground as their flesh burnt to dust. No adversary dared to go near him in fear of that much light, not even Admiral Zorrowfold.


    He gazed up into the sky at the figures approaching him. Axion saw unmistakable bearers of flame flying for him. He realized now that the beam of sunlight he stood in was also a landing trajectory. Axion wondered if there was any hope left in his heart to believe help had finally arrived.


    Meanwhile, just above, Mitakahn, still riding the fire-feathered Phoenix, looked around at the destruction of his kingdom. How did it ever come to this? Everything he had done to prevent this from happening and from up here it looked like it was too late. His heart¡¯s compassion burned the Phoenix¡¯s flame ever brighter. The Phoenix channeled the surge of energy and shot out a mighty blast of flames, creating an expanding ring of fire around Axion. The remaining enemies inside the ring burned to the ground and the sunlight spread.


    Eberlyn landed and Axion¡¯s eyes shined wide with astonishment.


    ¡°You came back.¡±


    ¡°As promised, my love.¡±


    The girl he last left had returned in a brand new form, in brilliant form. He was in true amazement, and it only furthered his love for her. Mitakahn landed shortly after on the Phoenix as the rest of his company followed. Axion stood amongst the landings in suspenseful awe, his mouth slightly open. His lips dry. His arms tired and fingers dangling. Too overwhelmed to really move.


    He slowly attempted to be in the moment. Five titan birds stood around the Phoenix, reflecting its brilliant spectrum of light across the city with their chrome masks, burning up random legions of darksiders; accompanied by their riders, all of which on-looking the royal reunion. Axion only had eyes for his girl, and her beautiful face. He met her radiating gaze and walked up to her. He was beaten and tired, she illuminated his spirit. Eberlyn saw her beloved fighting for what he believed in. Axion hugged her.


    Anilithy¨¬stad suddenly jumped through the flames on horseback, breaking them long enough for Lord Mercinestor and Commander Adora to follow through. Anilithy¨¬stad slid his hand into a pouch on the saddle, pulled out the artifact he had retrieved from the Citadel, and dismounted his horse in front of Axion. In majestic poise, Axion looked down the line at Cel¡¯a and his uncles.


    ¡°I am ready.¡±


    ¡°Then there is one thing left to do.¡±


    The prince dropped to one knee and Anilithy¨¬stad placed the Crown of Pride on his head. Everyone looked on at the Changing of the Crown, even Queen Ady¨¢na from high in the Throne Room above, made sure to witness her son¡¯s infinite glory. The crimson and gold crown shimmered in new life. Its crimson tides caught the fires of war and legend all around them, forever staining it with Axion¡¯s era, as it had done for every king in the Lion Kingdom¡¯s history. It was a perfect fit.


    King Axion stood up and pulled Eberlyn back on his hip. She handed him the Sword of Heroes. He grabbed the cold iron handle and held the magnificent sword high in the air and kissed Eberlyn, wetting his lips with hers. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The power coursed in from the sword upon his first touch, burning into his fingers, through his veins, and surged for his heart. His soul exploded with cosmic spirit and unyielding power. Its raw energy became him. The panels of ruby crystal on the sword ignited in a passionate explosion of pure red fire. It wrapped the sword in a wonderful fury of flame.  Everyone marveled at the sight of undisputed glory.


    Mitakahn was finally relieved. He did it; he solved the puzzle of his dreams, the games of the gods, and saved his kingdom. All along, the last missing piece was his brother¡­Axion.


    It was always Axion.


    He was the future of the Lion Kingdom nation, and Mitakahn would be his advisor; just as their father wanted it to be. It was then that Mitakahn realized that this fate was no different in the end. Even without his father next to him, he knew somewhere¡­Theomitus was still looking over all of them, pushing the pieces back together, trying to make it all right. Together, the two princes were unstoppable. Mitakahn looked on as Axion was summoned to behold the galactic power of the gods.


    The fire around the sword surrounded Axion and sunk into his body. The burning sensation that came from the melding was turned inside-out, it did not hurt. It felt right to him. This was what he was waiting for, what he was praying for. Seldom do the gods answer the prayers of ordinary men, but on this fateful day, his brother brought them before him, and they blessed Axion with unlimited mercy. The sword was heavy and yet sat perfectly on his hand. He looked closely at it through the fire as it entangled the both of them, forming a symbiotic bond.


    Axion wanted to cringe in ecstatic exuberance as the particles of his very being combined with the sword. His humanity altered and redefined, floating on the brink. The metal of the sword was heated to a liquid-like substance. He was no longer completely human, but merged with the existence of the celestial, a champion of the gods.


    Axion found rather quickly that he could manipulate the shape and structure of the sword. How? He wondered. Then he saw his control over all the flames.


    The transformation was complete. The very fabric of Axion¡¯s being was merged with the ever-expanding entity of the Crucifire Sword. Axion seemed relatively the same, but he was entirely different. His comprehension curbed his apprehension, his heart felt like it had aged a thousand years in a single flash but with more energy and vigor than ever.


    He returned the FireSword to its original shape. But for now, he would have no idea of his radical conversion and how it abrasively unlocked his boon from the Ignaleos Cor.


    It was time to see what this newfound legacy could do. He dipped his other hand into the fire. Expectedly, it did not burn him. He scooped out a fireball and threw it forward. The fireball exploded into the ground on impact, taking out the footing of several darksiders outside the ring.


    The King looked back at his brother and smiled.


    King Axion walked out of the ring with complete momentum over the moment, phasing through the firewall, and with his first slice, blew a furious tidal wave of flames into the enemy lines. He caught all the other courtyard fires with his wave as it rolled out.


    There was Admiral Zorrowfold, still standing in the darkness, waiting for Axion. Mitakahn stood behind his brother, burdened by all the death around him; his kin, mercilessly slain, their blood painting the streets of Zepathorum.


    Axion knew who was responsible for all this bloodshed. He pushed his hand and sent forth a wall of fire, straight into Zorrowfold. The wall ensnared him, pulling him back towards Axion. ZorrowFold got a close-up look at the legendary blade. Axion raised the fire from the sword and held out his free hand, ¡°You should never have come here.¡±


    Admiral ZorrowFold screamed in frustration, in humiliation, in defeat. The king lifted his hand and closed his fist, commanding the flames to burn the admiral alive. Not even ash remained of the great fallen Admiral of the South.


    His vanguard witnessed the fall of their admiral and fled. But King Axion was not finished with them. He took a heavy swing with the FireSword and another tidal wave of flames spread around the entire courtyard. It followed the retreating darksiders trying to make their escape.

 Chapter 93 (of 100): The Crimson Cleanse

    <h2>CHAPTER 93 ¨C THE CRIMSON CLEANSE</h2>


    King Axion sent the tidal waves of fire into the city to burn up the enemy, but he could not be everywhere at once. Deep within the city streets, Mortikahn and Paxikahn screamed in despair as they plummeted to the floor. Mortikahn turned over, midair, to see a flock of cravens flying toward them. Thank the gods. They would not be crushed to death, just eaten alive! Back inside the courtyard, the condor Anilithion sat on, caught the faint pitch of a brother¡¯s impending doom and the smell of craven.


    He took flight. The chrome-faced condor flew Anilithion into the city. Its metal cut the winds and flew through the air with no resistance. Anilithion rode the bird, weaving through the fiery waves passing throughout the city, cleaning out trembling buildings. Some buildings survived, but many collapsed as Anilithion flew narrowly underneath them. He saw two figures falling down the trench of buildings. Flying low, Anilithion¡¯s condor dipped under the plummet to intercept them.


    The two men fell cleanly onto the condor. Neither of which getting hurt any further, merely winded by the impact. Anilithion turned around to find his brother Mortikahn and his uncle Paxikahn frantically trying to hang on and catch their breath.


    Albeit scared and disoriented, he was glad just to see them alive.


    ¡°STOP SMILING AND TURN AROUND!¡± Mortikahn ordered his older brother.


    Anilithion turned forward to see the giant ugly face of a craven, pecking at him as it flew by. Three misshapen, scaly, black birds flew by Anilithion and his condor. He looked back at them. They will turn around and try to catch up to him. He had to act now if he meant to escape their wrath. The city continued to howl and burn, and sporadically crumble around him as he steered the Condor away.


    ¡°HANG ON!¡± he yelled to his passengers.


    He pushed down on the soft metal head, and they went into a dive, swooping low, banking around and under the ruins. The cravens looped around and began their approach on Anilithion. A building cracked down the middle after another wave of fire and collapsed. The top of it leaned over and began to fall horizontally across the path in front of the condor. Anilithion maintained their dive. They swooped under the falling tower and pulled up on the godly condor before hitting the ground.


    He looked back again, behind Paxikahn and Mortikahn catching their breath, while rubbing the head of his condor in encouragement. ¡°DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?¡± he exclaimed.


    Just then, Anilithion caught the sight of the cravens, flying through the spreading gray smoke of the building collapse. Their pace grew faster and faster as they caught up. Anilithion prepared himself for evasive actions. But just before they reached him, the cravens collided with the rest of the chrome-faced condors. The Condors had dropped off their riders in the circle of the courtyard and flown to Anilithion¡¯s aid, led by Chronis the giant-sized Silver-tailed hawk.


    They battled over the city. Anilithion cracked his whip around the craven that bit at him and caught its neck, pulling it in as he unsheathed his sword, plunging its tip up into the dark beast¡¯s skull. The craven carcass dropped from the air. Anilithion weaved his bird through the remaining flight to safety.


    Chronis swooped beside a craven, tore out a piece of its throat with his beak and used a metal feather to cut its head off. The craven twitched into lifelessness and dropped dead out of the sky. The condors defeated the remaining cravens.


    Anilithion flew back and brought them safely to the Courtyard. Paxikahn and Mortikahn, now rescued and returned, greeted their family in the light.


    ¡°Where is Jericho?¡±


    ¡°I lost him¡­¡± Mortikahn admitted with a guilty conscience.


    Mortikahn addressed the king, his father, and Mitakahn. Mitakahn! He returned. There he was, standing there as if he never left, but with the mighty Sunbird. Now it was clear to him¡­the kingdom¡¯s salvation had come.


    King Axion was wearing his crown as though it had always rested on his head and wielding the magical Sword of Heroes passionately before them. He looked like he was underwater, but in reality he was immersed in flame. The fire released from his blade like molten lava, and quickly turned to stormy flames. Smoke raised from the blade as the ruby turned from solar panels to exhaust vents. The fire from the sword looked more scarlet than regular fire, just like the crimson of the Pride was darker than regular red.


    The King breathed deeply and ran back into the battle. Mitakahn and Eberlyn followed behind as the rest of the company spread out, ridding the courtyard of all remaining darksiders. Mitakahn followed his brother back into the fray. Axion seemed to be getting a hold of the sword. He didn¡¯t throw anymore waves into the city. They took a lot out of him and damaged already unstable Zepathorum buildings.


    Instead, Axion kept the blade lit and a fire going on his left hand. Eberlyn hovered next to him holding spears made of her fire wings. Axion looked at his brother on his left side.


    ¡°Are you going to be good without fire magic?¡± he asked, mostly joking but slightly bragging.


    A caw rang out from the sky above. Mitakahn took out his sword. His silver gauntlet sprang out from his glistening scars and came together perfectly around his fingers grasping the handle of the sword. Chronis landed on his shoulder, now normal sized.


    ¡°I think I will be just fine, brother.¡± Mitakahn smirked.


    The two princes and the lady of fire clashed with the darksiders. Eberlyn threw one of her spears into a darksider. It exploded on impact, shredding the soldier to dust. She blocked a scimitar strike with her other spear and then sliced its head off with her fire-wing. Then she spun around and shot flames out at the bunch of necrogallion lunging for her back.


    Axion pushed forward using the cosmic fire to shoot out of his feet. He nearly fell over but got to the enemy in time. He cut clean through the necrogallion staggered by Eberlyn¡¯s blast. Axion turned around and parried an incoming sword strike. He punched the darksider in the head with his flaming hand and it sent out a fireball. The darksider fell to the floor. Axion punched the air and shot a fireball that zoomed into the closest darksider.


    Chronis flew off Mitakahn¡¯s shoulder and spun, sending silver feathers slicing through the air. They all struck the same dark soldier in the head, dropping it dead. Mitakahn fought one on one with the darksiders while Chronis kept them at bay. He clashed swords with yet another one when fire rained down near them. Chronis flew back into the air, disappearing in the overcast sky.


    More fire burnt the darksiders massing behind them. The dragon responsible for the burns finally made enough room in the ranks to land. The courtyard was almost cleared. The dragon rider dismounted and approached Axion. Eberlyn jumped into action and an interception course. The dragon rider stopped and took out her blades, assuming a warrior¡¯s stance. Eberlyn did not break her gait and they would have collided in spectacle had it not been for Mitakahn.


    ¡°Zora?¡±


    The dragon rider looked over at the prince. Eberlyn stopped and asked him, ¡°You know this darksider?¡±


    Mitakahn could almost hear Zora¡¯s hiss from where he was standing.


    ¡°That is no darksider, Eberlyn. She is a dragon rider of the South, and it would do you well to know the difference.¡± Mitakahn said with a smile.


    Zora put her blades away and took off her helmet to get a better look at Mitakahn. Axion put his hand over Eberlyn¡¯s shoulder as they all got a little closer.


    ¡°You helped us,¡± King Axion said, ¡°When a battalion of behemoths threatened the citadel. It was this brave warrior that saved the kingdom.¡±


    Zora did not smile.


    Axion sounded like he would knight her right then and there for what she did for the Pride. Mitakahn was astonished and couldn¡¯t be more confused about how she ended in his Citadel courtyard.


    ¡°I am not here because I betrayed my country. I am here because my country betrayed me. The Dark Lord forced me to summon the stardragons that devastated your armies. Everything I¡¯ve done after that has been in recompense.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked Eberlyn.


    Axion dismissed her remorse and Mitakahn did what he did best.


    ¡°What is his name?¡±


    ¡°The Dark Lord? His name is Malinor. That is all I know. He is an imposter and not from the South.¡±


    Mitakahn took this as an opportunity to explain, he said, ¡°Zora was brought here from the past by a storm.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Axion, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡± someone yelled from back towards the Citadel. ¡°King Axion!¡± The shouting got closer, and it became clear who searched for them.


    Mercinestor Casterosi ran up on the Arkenoir brothers.


    ¡°Cipher is missing! Along with Kara Ventrilles! They were last seen by the Zenfor Archers in the city, meddling with the Ignaleos Cor.¡±


    ¡°My gods, he could be anywhere, Uncle Nestor.¡± Mitakahn fret, right along with Mercinestor.


    ¡°We must do something,¡± Mercinestor said.


    ¡°If they are in the city we will find them.¡± King Axion declared.


    ¡°And if they aren¡¯t?¡± asked Eberlyn.


    ¡°If they aren¡¯t in the Zepathorum or nearby, then I can only think of two other places, Castle Rosi Island and Arunidawa,¡± posited Mitakahn.


    ¡°Castle Rosi is in ruin,¡± said Mercinestor.


    ¡°Arunidawa it is, then,¡± said the King.


    ¡°Makes sense if the Cor was in any way involved with Magnanimous¡¯ return,¡± said Mercinestor.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°We have a lot to catch you up on little brother. In the meantime, we have enough of a presence on the battlefield to put an end to all this and aerial support to spare.¡±


    ¡°I will go.¡± Zora stepped forth.


    ¡°You do not know the way,¡± said Mitakahn.


    ¡°I will go with her.¡± Mercinestor said, also stepping forward.


    ¡°Hurry back. We have a lot of work ahead of us,¡± said King Axion.


    ¡°I would argue that we need you here,¡± Mitakahn said, looking at Zora, and then the group, ¡°but I think we both agree Cipher is worth two of any of us,¡±


    ¡°And then some, my dear boy. I will tell him you said that.¡± Mercinestor hugged Mitakahn and bowed to Axion. ¡°My King.¡±


    King Axion nodded back to Mercinestor. Fathom crawled over beside Zora in his customary way of presenting his mount. Zora held her hand out for the lion lord, the senior of the group, who was clearly storing his energy in the krackenwreck. Mercinestor awkwardly took Zora¡¯s hand and climbed up aboard Fathom the dragon. He tried to avoid the fin-like scales that cobbled his back. They looked sharp. Fathom tried his best not to move. Lord Casterosi found his footing, getting to his seat. Zora¡¯s gaze drifted back towards Mitakahn who was smiling. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s just funny seeing two of my most favorite people in the world setting off on a quest together.¡±


    ¡°You northerners have a strange sense of humor.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s just Mitakahn.¡± Axion pointed at him casually with the Crucifire Sword.


    Mitakahn actually appreciated Axion¡¯s quip, because as he replayed the words in his head he realized he just told Zora she¡¯s his favorite person in the world, along with¡­his uncle¡­ weird. A small fire lit under his skin in pure embarrassment. Zora went to say something to Mitakahn.


    The dragon started moving to get centered for lift-off, and Mercinestor nearly fell off. He swiftly grabbed Zora who was in front of him and hung onto her as they rose into the air. The dragon shot forward, heading south, out of the city.


    King Axion took a swing north and a roaring wave of translucent fire spewed out of the crucifire sword. The wave grew and doubled, tripled, and quadrupled in size until it passed through the Gatehouse completely. Any darksider unlucky enough to be caught in its path were eviscerated. The fire did not harm anyone except the invaders. It did, however, rock the already unstable buildings of Zepathorum. King Axion had to work on curbing his ability.


    The Arkenoir brothers joined the rest of their companions in overthrowing the enemy. Soon enough, the courtyard was clear of all darksiders. King Axion turned around before the group. He never thought he would see it. When times were truly at their darkest his brother brought home the most awesome of gifts, a sword. He raised the Crucifire Sword and blew a torch into the air for everyone in the city who was still alive to see, a beacon of hope. To instill the message that peace and good would prevail in the North.


    The torch lit up the dark clouded sky. Mitakahn bowed before him along with the rest of the courtyard, and the fire rose into the cloud, catching the dark magic storm aflame.


    Mitakahn asked him, ¡°What are your orders, my King?¡±


    Axion thought about it for a moment. He looked around at all his family and friends and contemplated all of his options. His brain worked without a hitch, focused by his newfound identity and energy.


    ¡°Euphrati and Mortikahn come with me. We can finish off the city. Mitakahn take care of that blasted dark cloud. The rest of you make for Caliber. We liberate The Pride once and for all!¡±


    Axion joined hands with Eberlyn, ¡°We must save my cousin, Jericho,¡± he said. Axion pushed off the ground and the fire surrounding him was guided by Eberlyn and propelled Axion through the air as Mortikahn followed on foot behind them.


    Anilithy¨¬stad stepped back. Paxikahn looked back at his older brother retiring from the fight. He was not as old as Anilithy¨¬stad, and not yet done with this fight. He caught up with Mortikahn and escorted his nephew back into the dangerous streets of Zepathorum.


    Mitakahn on the Phoenix led his men now back on the chrome-faced condors for Port Caliber. Mitakahn and the Phoenix lingered above the Citadel and fired off a rally of fireballs. They ate up the dark clouds that plagued the skies. Mitakahn brought the sun back to Zepathorum and the Pride. The sunlight came shining through, destroying bulk flanks of dark troops within the city, and exposing the graphic nature of war. The evil turned to ash and blew away, all that remained were the Lion Kingdom fallen. Blood and bodies of brothers and sisters in arms lined the streets of the rioted city. How could a city be saved after so much destruction?


    Mitakahn and his company quickly reached Port Caliber, except for Anilithion who peeled off from the group and stayed in Zepathorum to use his condor in the search for Jericho. At the Port, enemy ships that had been abandoned were now getting ready for sail, Behemoths and cravens were let loose and rampaging wildly through the city. The dragon soldiers were in full retreat. Tron and Bridger remained on the condors, shooting arrows at the cravens. Tron flew through the air with his golden shield deployed, firing arrows through its curves.


    The rest of the company flew to separate parts of the city. Excelsior and Orion dropped into the inner city. It was pitch black, and there were cries coming from everywhere. Dark figures were caught running down the streets past them. They cried like children and Orion went to their aid. But before Excelsior could warn the na?ve pup, the darksiders turned around, and screeched their ugly little faces at Orion. Orion stumbled back and Excelsior jumped into the air behind him. The pup turned to run away, and his master came crashing down on top of the dark creatures. He chopped their heads off as Orion shoved his head behind Excelsior, lifting him up onto his hide. They continued fighting through the streets.


    Humbler took the marina district. His landing was heavy from off of his chrome-faced condor. He marched through the industrial avenue of the port city, with his mighty hammer, bringing terror down on the terrible. He clipped a darksider with the horn on his hammer, keeping him lodged on, and swinging it around, breaking the chest of both the one caught and the one impacted by the mighty warrior¡¯s hammer.


    Kunezar flew for the ranches, in an attempt to rescue the horses being held by the darksiders. At the ranches, the darksiders were cutting into the horses and infecting them. Killing them and then bringing them back as a new species of darksider. He glided his condor low to the ground on the open range of fences. He cut down the enemy riders and then unlocked the ranch gates, gathering the herds of helpless horses. The remaining darksiders fired arrows at him as he covered the fleeing herd. He killed them off and returned to the city.


    Mitakahn headed for the docks. He used the Phoenix to his advantage while he could. The enemy armada was not ready for such a drastic turn and their ships were laid to waste. The Phoenix¡¯s flame consumed the entire fleet. He wrought its eruptive chasm of cosmic flames down the entire coastline.


    Even the reflections from the burning ships on the ocean water wounded the dragon soldiers. Mitakahn caught on to this trend and utilized it to the most of his ability. The few ships that moved to escape the bay were torched, creating a dam of wreckage, caging in the remaining ships with fire and light. He finished off the rest of the fleet and turned in on the beaches, continuing to the center of the town, where he let the Phoenix destroy all the clouds of darkness.


    The Phoenix¡¯s eyes glowed with no bounds and out from its churning feathers poured columns upon columns of wildfire. They rose into the air and cleansed the sky of all darkness. The remaining enemies burnt up into ash before Mitakahn¡¯s company. The sun¡¯s rays were opened up upon the city blocks. Excelsior and Orion watched from the downtown district as the last surviving behemoths burnt to dust in the middle of the streets. Humbler walked out from the marinas and watched the last of the burning ships sink into the bay. Port Caliber was free. Even down in the Serengeti, the remaining dark clouds were surrendering and fleeing the skies to the Southlands.


    Anilithy¨¬stad looked up at the parting dark clouds above the city. It was morning. He remained at the Citadel, retiring from battle. He was officially an excess asset and happy about it. With the Phoenix god, a magical sword, and the return of the sun, there seemed to be no need for one more old washed up warrior. Instead, he knocked on the Citadel door. He wanted to be first to tell the queen that the day was saved.


    The doors opened and The sun shined on Queen Ady¨¢na¡¯s face the moment she stepped outside. She was overjoyed.


    ¡°How!?¡± she cried.


    Anilithy¨¬stad, now feeling the ecstasy of their salvation, grabbed his sister¡¯s head on both sides, and placed their foreheads together. ¡°Our sons,¡± he said in hysterical joyousness¡­ ¡°You¡¯re sons¡­¡±


    ¡°Sons?¡± She emphasized the plural.


    ¡°Mitakahn has returned and saved us all, Ady¨¢na.¡±


    Queen Ady¨¢na was left speechless. Anilithy¨¬stad pointed up.


    ¡°He came riding in on the very Phoenix God itself.¡±


    Ady¨¢na fell to her knees and praised the gods. She raised her hands up to the skies and sun and then kissed the ground in thanks. Commander Cel¡¯a walked through the Citadel doors and told the citizens of the kingdom the battle was over.


    ¡°We have been saved. The light of the gods has returned by the grace of the brothers Arkenoir!¡±


    The citizens of the Pride came out of the Citadel and felt the hard savannah sun once again.


    All the while, Axion and Eberlyn searched the crossroads for Jericho. Even though the dark cloud was burnt up and the sun returned, there were still some dark spots in the shadow of Zepathorum¡¯s ruin. Axion raised the flame of his sword like a torch to get a better look. There he was, on the floor, motionless. Like bugs, the remaining darksiders crawled out of the shadows for the light. Although they feared the light, they also craved it.


    They jumped down and surrounded Axion and Eberlyn. The two went back to back. Axion cut through every opponent as they got to him, with his sword, but after every slice they exploded in a blast of flames that he then sent back into the city. On the other side,


    Eberlyn was adjusting to her new abilities as well. She dodged sword strokes by rolling in the air, tucking her arms together under her shoulders, and covering herself with her cunning wings of fire. Getting the hang of the spin quickly, Eberlyn impressively figured out a way to improve upon it, shooting bolts of fire out of her wings mid-spin, destroying nearby enemies.


    She stopped and pulled a flame-feather from her wings and harnessed it in the form of a bolt-spear. After deflecting sword strokes with it, she heaved the bolt-spear forward at an oncoming darksider. It landed straight into its charging chest and exploded, bringing what was left of the darksider to the ground. They continued fighting. The both of them got away from each other while caught up in the struggle.


    Eberlyn threw her hands forward, conjuring up a shot of fire into the chests of her opponents. She spun back around and kicked a pirate in the face as she bent over in her spin, slicing through another one with her fiery wings. Her strategy as a warrior was reminiscent of her rhythms as a dancer.


    Eberlyn spun back around and shot two fireballs from her palms at soldiers trying to flank Axion¡¯s back. She then flew over to Jericho¡¯s body and covered it from further harm. More shadow-dwellers turned the corner and came for them. Eberlyn crouched above Jericho¡¯s head and felt his chest.


    ¡°There is still life in him!¡±


    The darksiders jumped at Eberlyn, with her hands full, she called upon the flame in her eyes and sent two rays of fire into the darksiders¡¯ skulls. Her wings folded down and covered her as the remaining foe attacked the fiery shield of wings and she ignited a brief fire blast, crumbling them to dust.


    Paxikahn and Mortikahn, carrying Jericho, were escorted around another corner by Eberlyn. There standing before them were the surviving darksiders. They laid Jericho down and prepared to fight. But as Paxikahn and Mortikahn charged, Eberlyn was distracted. In her peripheral vision she could see two figures slowly approaching. She turned to them, one in the sky.


    The last craven was now bearing down on them. It must have survived the fight. From above and behind the craven, Eberlyn could see Anilithion flying his condor straight for it.


    ¡°Not my family!¡± he yelled at the beast right before engaging it.


    But that was not the only worry that caught Eberlyn¡¯s eye. A monstrous wolf with dark fur and small yellow eyes with drool sliding down its oversized fangs came out of the shadowed alley. The berserker called upon Eberlyn. She felt no fear, only the flame of courage and the fire to fight. She threw up a wall of brimstone, (scorched earth) at it. The wall rolled past the berserker, but it merely phased through it unharmed. It started running towards her.


    Jericho stirred.


    She shot fireball after fireball out of her palms as the dark wolf dodged each one, getting ever closer. Nothing she was doing was working. Fire was useless against such darkness. Now Eberlyn was starting to get scared, and that just made the beast stronger.


    Jericho opened his eyes and called out to her.


    Eberlyn turned around and caught his sword as she spun back around with the silver-coated blade ringing through the air, the berserker leaped at her, and Eberlyn cut the silver sword deep into its gut.


    It pulled her to the floor. As she hit the ground, the fire went out. It retreated to only her wings. They tussled on the ground before she slid Jericho¡¯s sword out from the beast¡¯s gut.


    Eberlyn got up and reignited her fire. It blew into the air and cleaned Jericho¡¯s sword of all blood and shadow, brightening up the broken alley street. The berserker¡¯s patchy fur exploded, and its guts melted into the blackened ground as she drove the silver sword into its head. The berserker was dead. Anilithion defeated the craven, Paxikahn and Mortikahn finished off the rest of the darksiders, and Jericho was saved.


    Axion ran through the street, cradling the magical sword. Paxikahn admired his nephew, becoming the man he always knew him to be. The dark cloud was dispersing above them.


    Axion whistled and it echoed out of the city blocks. Axion got out of the east side of the city and entered the congress palisades. Huntross met him at the next crossroads. He mounted his faithful steed and showed him his newly ordained power.


    Axion thrust the FireSword up and screamed. His spirit spiked and the fire came barreling out of the blade. It wrapped both the king and his horse in the flame. The fire sunk into Huntross and intervened with his entity just as it did with his master. His eyes glowed red, and his mane turned to flames.


    They picked up pace as they carved up the road. In no time they were at the Gatehouse. The fields beyond the ruined walls were wretched with dead bodies, downed dragons, and chunks of earth destroyed. It was a barren wasteland. Axion scanned for life but there was none. Farther away near a scorched ridge there was a giant mound of dead bodies, a pile of death, no doubt. From this far away it looked to Axion like it was throbbing gently, like a dying heart.


    He could see the port city. Port Caliber had a clear sky overhead thanks to Mitakahn and the Phoenix. Axion continued up the balconies with Eberlyn and he sprayed fire all into the sky and burned up the remaining dark clouds between cities. He aimed it over the gates as well. And all the dark soldiers still fighting burned to ash.


    He galloped back down into the city. Helping the wounded get out. Extinguishing all remaining threats. The crucifire sword gave him control over most fire, even enemy flame of the dragon if he had enough focus. He could reduce and remediate the burning of the kingdom. In time, the entire city was under sunlight.


    Axion returned to the Citadel courtyard to see his fallen cousin, Jericho, up and walking. The battle at Zepathorum was finally over, and the evil that had almost killed an entire civilization had been defeated.


    Mitakahn and his company returned from Port Caliber and the Serengeti. Friends and family came together in the courtyard of Zepathorum City in celebration. Eberlyn and Axion greeted Adyana. Anilithy¨¬stad hugged his two boys Anilithion and Mortikahn. Commander Adora stood proudly with her son Fiscerone. Excelsior sat on the bludgeoned ground with Orion, quietly petting his back. And Mitakahn finally landed with the Phoenix.


    The Lion Kingdom was saved, at the expense of many. The amount of casualties was penetratingly high. Mercinestor, Zora, and Fathom still searched for Cipher. The Royal Guard was nearly wiped out. If it had not been for divine intervention this day all they hold dear would have been lost.


    Mitakahn was home and Axion was king. The war was over. Their kingdom had faced extinction and endured. Order and peace had been restored by the two brothers. They could now return to their normal lives.


    The dragon heart-sized mound of corpses out in the fields pulsated in pregnancy.

 Chapter 94 (of 100): The Dark Lords Curse

    <h2>CHAPTER 94 ¨C THE DARK LORD¡¯S CURSE</h2>


    The dark cloud diminished but was not defeated. The surviving breaths of shadow and the dying breaths of the dark lord¡¯s minions swarmed around the pile of dead bodies on the ridge outside Zepathorum. They swooped in, slowed, and slid through the cracks of the pit of death. The dark cloud heated up and fused with the pile of corpses, melting it all together, boiling it down to a throbbing black and yellow egg. From inside an elbow ruptured the sack. The Dark Lord spilled out, a changed man. If his new form could even be considered human.


    Malinor stood up, still in his fused vanity mask, and long pointy, dragon-like ears, creepy armor, and dark cloak. His army was obliterated. Beaten, but not yet defeated. It mattered not. He summoned the voidstabber scepter from his tenure in the Southlands. He blessed it with the ancient shadow caster chant and hurled the Scepter of Apophas into the black clouds over the Serengeti, as they retreated south. The voidstabber scepter altered its course and hooked the clouds, plunging them into Lake Niobi.


    Shadow met water.


    The darkness swirled inside the lake. All the winds stopped. Mitakahn felt distracted. The lake water began to boil and spoil. A growing shadow spread over the bottom of the lake. It transformed the water into a dense swamp of darkness and disease. The water oozed out and sank into the ground. The black algae caked over the lake and spread its filth. The shadow swirling around and the Black Abyss opened.


    The Dark Lord walked out onto the lake and the living shadow crawled up his legs. He laughed. The ecstasy of so much energy coursing through his body overwhelmed his senses. He dropped to his knees and let his physical form melt away into nothing but cloak and cloth, which was absorbed into the mutated lake.


    The lake bubbled in blackness and then drained in an instant. Out from the black abyss sprang two gigantic chains tight as if attached to something. Connected to those chains were sledgehammers with sharpened, pickax-like edges on the backs. The chains tightened and the hammers caught the ground, grabbing a hold. From the Black Abyss came a figure larger than the entire citadel and almost as wide as the lake it crawled out, the giant slowly climbed out of the abyss and onto the Serengeti.


    Too big to go unnoticed, it attracted the unanimously horrified attention of everyone rejoicing in the Citadel courtyard. Mitakahn and Axion stood side by side, in awe, and completely caught off guard, looking up at the unbelievable sight. It was some sort of abysmal combination of the dragon and lion gods, the Dark Lord¡¯s ultimate juggernaut form. Now he hungered for the Phoenix.


    Malinor was covered in a dark growth and his eyes were carved out like glowing white oblong orbs. Wild horns and fangs curled out of his hideous face and mouth. Worn skin patched together by infected scars covered his massive head. His head was wide, and his eyes were flat and empty. There was barely any self-awareness behind the burnt metal vanity mask forged into its face.


    The giant was the primal Malinor, pure chaos harnessed inside a massive hollow body. Its movements were slow but momentous. Its legs moved as if they had no sense of gravity. The gigantic harbinger of death threw its hammers around on the chains connected to its wrists, reaping havoc on the abandoned Serengeti.


    ¡°Juggernaut!¡± screamed Anilithy¨¬stad in a sweeping declaration.


    Everyone scrambled.


    Excelsior motioned Orion to head for the Citadel, but the pup remained by his side.


    ¡°Just go, Orion!¡± demanded Excelsior. ¡°We have no more use for you here.¡±


    The loyal canine lowered his ears. Excelsior was preoccupied but could feel the spirit of his soulmate dwindle, when not needed, so he charged Orion with a mission, ¡°Protect the Queen at all costs.¡±


    Orion¡¯s short furry ears popped back up and he followed Anilithy¨¬stad and Ady¨¢na. The giant came for the citadel and raised its arm. The chain followed, bringing up the sledgehammer. Anilithy¨¬stad put Ady¨¢na on top of Orion and helped Paxikahn carry Jericho as they all ran inside with the civilians.


    The hammer came down on the Citadel. It was deflected by a blast from King Axion¡¯s FireSword. The young lion king lunged forth into the air, clashing with the juggernaut before the citadel. A fraction of the giant¡¯s size, Axion had trouble staying airborne. He tried his best to fight back. Eberlyn swooped in and prevented the king from pushing himself too far.


    Cel¡¯a escorted Adyana and the rest back into the Citadel. Orion stood by the doors, guarding Ady¨¢na and already eagerly anticipated the return of his master. Paxikahn began to carry Jericho up the spiraling stairs. Ady¨¢na started barricading the door, but her brother stopped her.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Ady¨¢na asked.


    ¡°If that thing comes for us, it¡¯s going to tear the walls down and not come through the front door. All we do now is pray they stop it.¡±


    ¡°Worry not, my queen. We will secure the main doors and the assembly. Take care of your family.¡± said Cel¡¯a.


    Without their own chariots like the chrome-faced condors they were not able to fight as the others do. The bravest among them sought out ways to be helpful at the Citadel. Ady¨¢na listened to Cel¡¯a and headed upstairs with her brothers and Jericho.


    King Axion and Eberlyn would not last long against the monster. Mitakahn and his company took flight once again. Chronis perched himself on the roof of the Citadel and watched Mitakahn fly off on the Phoenix. Mortikahn jumped on the back of Anilithion¡¯s condor, and they flew off together, brothers united.


    Ady¨¢na was stopped by Anilithy¨¬stad as they passed through the Throne Room. There was Jericho lying down at the center of the floor. The balconies were still down and opened around the Throne room. Paxikahn had walked to the other side after putting Jericho down, peering out south, watching the fight in the distance.


    Ady¨¢na checked on Jericho, who was sleeping on the ground. Anilithy¨¬stad walked over to Paxikahn. They both watched in silence at the epic battle unfolding before them. Anilithy¨¬stad had seen many strange and horrible things in his lifetime, but never anything like this. His first born nephew was flying by fire, while his sons were riding a titan bird at a towering monster. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    The company of heroes approached the rampaging juggernaut. The first one there, Mitakahn took the Phoenix in front of the giant.


    ¡°DARK LORD MALINOR!¡± Mitakahn screamed at the top of his lungs. He pulled out his sword and held it high. ¡°IT IS TIME TO MEET YOUR END!¡±


    The Dark Lord juggernaut turned face to face with Mitakahn.


    It bellowed one drawn out word. ¡°DIE!¡±


    Its grumble was a monotonous baritone, shaking the very foundation of MagnaThora; all without a single movement from its mouth. Everyone moved into action.


    Bridger led the archers, including: Anilithion and Mortikahn (on the same bird), Tron, and Kunezar. Humbler flew down the giant¡¯s arm towards his shoulder, as he passed its head he brought the face of his hammer across the giant¡¯s temple. The mighty beast roared in pain and swatted after the escaping Humbler condor.


    Excelsior moved up the juggernaut¡¯s spine. Axion and Eberlyn both blew streams of fire onto it. The giant growled again. Excelsior came over its head and jumped off of his condor. He pulled out both of his swords and swung his hips forward, putting his feet in front of him on the traveling winds.


    Malinor picked his hammers back up. Mitakahn pulled out an arrow from his quiver and loaded it. Malinor¡¯s chains retracted into his arms. He lowered the loaded arrow onto the Phoenix¡¯s head and lit it aflame. Mitakahn brought the bow back up and lined it with his sight. The giant Dark Lord focused on the Phoenix in front of him. Mitakahn fired the arrow. It soared through the air as Axion and Eberlyn flew up on either side of Mitakahn, blocking Malinor¡¯s hammer strokes. Axion clashed with the hammer and the FireSword cut clean through. It fell, in two halves, from the juggernaut¡¯s control.


    Malinor knocked Axion out of the sky with his empty hand and then picked up the chains. Excelsior, still free falling through the air, planned for a face-side landing. Mitakahn¡¯s flaming arrow finally hit the juggernaut in the throat and it went into an uproar once again. The giant¡¯s mouth opened up and Excelsior fell straight down into its throat. Mitakahn and others who saw it watched in utter dismay, as the giant demon ate Excelsior alive.


    Kunezar swept in and caught Axion. Mitakahn panicked. He did not know what to do about Excelsior. Was he dead or alive? The metal links emerged once again from the giant¡¯s flesh.


    Eberlyn rushed to Axion¡¯s side. Anilithion and Mortikahn rose up to the head of the juggernaut, both still firing arrows, to where Excelsior¡¯s chrome-faced condor was flying. They lined up with the condor and Mortikahn jumped onto it.


    Anilithy¨¬stad barely caught them getting separated back at the Citadel. What was happening to Lake Niobi was getting harder and harder to ignore. The darkness inside the abyss was just as alive as the juggernaut. He tapped his younger brother on the shoulder and motioned at the black abyss. They both looked down at its slow pulsing and lethargic infection. Its shadow algae ate into the shoreline.


    ¡°We have to get down there.¡±


    They told Ady¨¢na to take care of Jericho as they ran back downstairs. Anilithy¨¬stad shook his head as he followed Paxikahn down the dreaded spiral staircase.


    ¡°All these contraptions built into this fortress, and they couldn¡¯t come up with a faster way to get downstairs?¡±


    Jericho awoke as they left. He turned to his aunt and asked what happened. She began to inform him of the most recent account of horror.


    Anilithy¨¬stad and Paxikahn boarded their steeds in the lobby. Orion was no longer waiting by the doors. In fact, the canine was nowhere to be found. They rode out onto the beaches of Lake Niobi for the abyss. The Borigini brothers approached the black hole apprehensively.


    It was consuming the lake¡¯s edges. That could only mean one thing. The beach was eroding, and soon it would devour the Citadel. Paxikahn got off his horse and knelt down close next to the shadow-filled algae.


    An Andromeda Orchid bloomed right before him. An ancient deadly flower, its effervescent amethyst roots made it look like liquid crystal. Its soft poisonous petals gradually faded to white. In the center of the flower were a couple of sharp needle stigmas.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too close, Paxikahn.¡± But just as Anilithy¨¬stad said that the flower shot its darts out. One hit Paxikahn directly in the neck as the others all sailed past them into his horse.


    Anilithy¨¬stad ran his horse over to his brother and dismounted. The shadow of the abyss slowly spread onto the beach. He got down beside Paxikahn who was already feeling the effects of the stigmas and lethargically lying on the sand. Anilithy¨¬stad watched helplessly as he approached. The algae plague splattered onto Paxikahn¡¯s foot. Anilithy¨¬stad pulled his brother¡¯s boot off, and lifted him up, getting underneath his arm to drag him away. Paxikahn¡¯s horse fell to its side, as they limped by it.


    Halfway to the Citadel door he decided they were far enough away, for now. Anilithy¨¬stad stopped and treated his brother. The darts were still in his neck. Without any hesitation, he reached down and pulled them out, tossing them away. Anilithy¨¬stad kept one and brought it up close to examine. The tip was emitting a small line of black blood. A good amount was fed into Paxikahn.


    Suddenly, the horse screamed as its heart stopped beating. The darkness infested its body and rotted it from the inside out. The ever-growing abyss in the lake felt the presence of newborn darkness and pulsated in the direction of the horse. It leapt forward, swallowing the horse up whole. Anilithy¨¬stad looked on as Paxikahn started hyperventilating, cradling himself, and mumbling, ¡°That¡¯s me! That¡¯s going to be me! That¡¯s going to happen to me! I¡¯m dead!¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad lifted Paxikahn up and onto his horse. ¡°Listen to me, Pax. You¡¯re going to be fine. I won¡¯t let anything happen to you.¡± He looked deep into his brother¡¯s eyes. The veins had swelled and turned the white around his pupils black. Anilithy¨¬stad tried to cover his own discomfort and remounted. He kicked open the doors and ran into the lobby. He yelled his new orders out directly and clearly as his horse galloped up the spiral staircase, saying, ¡°EVACUATE THE CITADEL!¡±


    Cel¡¯a watched him fly up the spiral staircase in haste. She did not argue. She did not ignore his orders. she merely carried them out as slowly as possible. The Metuchen knight had forgotten in his panic that an entire city of people were sheltered down there.


    When Anilithy¨¬stad got back up to the Throne Room, Ady¨¢na was sitting on the edge of the balcony with Jericho lying on the floor beside her, leaning his head on her lap. They both were watching the juggernaut and the abyss ravage the Pride.


    ¡°Sister,¡± Anilithy¨¬stad begged, ¡°Paxikahn has been infected by the darkness.¡±


    ¡°By what?¡± Jericho asked superfluously.


    ¡°By these¡­¡± Anilithy¨¬stad showed them the flower dart he was carrying, when he noticed the tips of his fingers holding the darts were turning black. He too was infected.


    ¡°Get back!¡±


    He tossed the dart off the balcony and showed them his shadow-cursed hand. Ady¨¢na looked back at her fallen brother. Paxikahn¡¯s eyes bled black tears down his cheek as he began to turn. Anilithy¨¬stad sat near the edge with Paxikahn who began to cough and hack up bile. Ady¨¢na cried on her knees in the throne room, with a battle raging behind her in the background and her brother slowly dying before her.


    Anilithy¨¬stad rubbed his hand as he watched the fight from afar. After all, that was all he could do now. It seemed that passing up the chance to continue fighting was his ultimate downfall. Right now, he could be helping in the great fight to slay the massive demon, but instead he would rot helplessly as an onlooker. The Phoenix rose up and flew towards them.


    Anilithy¨¬stad got to his feet. Paxikahn could not. Paxikahn¡¯s eyes were closed by the growing shadow inside of him. Anilithy¨¬stad tucked his black hand into his cloak and Ady¨¢na approached them on the edge of the balcony. Silently they watched the fight outside.

 Chapter 95 (of 100): Arunidawa

    <h2>CHAPTER 95 ¨C ARUNIDAWA</h2>


    The sun warmed Mercinestor¡¯s face. Although he was scared to death being this high up, above the clouds, he never felt better. Zora kept Fathom at a high altitude so they could reach Arunidawa as quickly as possible. When Mercinestor felt like they traveled far enough south he tapped her on the shoulder. They descended back through the clouds. He saw the low-arching beautiful architecture carved into the quarry. Any further, up above the clouds, and they would have missed it.


    It was hard enough to keep from vomiting, Mercinestor could barely keep track of time and distance in the skies. To him, it felt like they went up, sailed on the clouds for a lucky moment, and then dipped back down. Had they been gone for an hour or a day?


    Zora surveyed the land around the town. There were some hills and trees, but the center of town was flat and open, so that¡¯s where Fathom landed. Throughout all the commotion that comes with a dragon landing in a small town not one person revealed themselves. It was a ghost town, empty. Mercinestor hoped it was not barren of absolutely all life. They dismounted and Mercinestor warned Zora.


    ¡°We are going into the caves to have a look around. Fathom won¡¯t fit.¡±


    Zora nodded her head. She went over to Fathom and pulled a torch from her satchel.


    ¡°I need you to stay here and keep guard, fire-eyes.¡± She smiled and rubbed the side of his neck. Then Zora lifted the torch. Fathom spat yellow fire on it.


    ¡°If anyone shows up. Alert us. If any darksiders show up. Kill them.¡±


    ¡°What are they really?¡±


    ¡°The darksiders are echoes of my kingdom. They remind me of the slaves at the cove, but they fight like dragon kingdom soldiers. Like the legends tell.¡±


    ¡°We only have one legend of the south around here.¡±


    ¡°Mitakahn has told me. Evil. But this is not the truth. This is northgate lies.¡±


    ¡°I guess we are both victims of the times.¡±


    Mercinestor led Zora into the palace. They passed through, avoiding a couple of dead bodies. The hallway transitioned into the chamber of a cavern beneath the earth. It was pitch black. They brought the torchlight to the front of the room where Mercinestor knew the Orleop Threshi was. As they approached a shadow from the torchlight projected onto the ground of a man on his knees.


    ¡°Cipher!¡± Mercinestor cried out. He leapt to his son and cradled him in his arms. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°We found you,¡± Mercinestor said, ¡°By the gods, you were actually here.¡± He rubbed Cipher¡¯s head and hugged him. The warmth from his father¡¯s embrace brought Cipher back to reality. He looked out and saw Mercinestor looking right back at him.


    ¡°Dad?¡±


    ¡°It''s me, Cipher. I¡¯m here. Everything is going to be okay.¡±


    ¡°Where is Kara?¡±


    ¡°There is no one else here, son.¡±


    Cipher jumped up. ¡°We need to get her! She¡¯s in the Corscape with the cor. That¡¯s borrowed time. The Cor will collapse in on itself!¡±


    ¡°How are we going to get to her if she has the cor, Cipher?¡±


    Cipher looked at his father and his sword. Mercinestor followed his gaze and unsheathed the krakenwreck. He tightened his grip around the sword and it began to glow blue. Mercinestor gave the krakenwreck to Cipher and upon handing it off nearly keeled over. Cipher held his father¡¯s sword in his left hand and kept his right hand facing-up but in a fist. Cipher closed his eyes and concentrated. He used to be able to open the Corscape on command, just by thinking about it. But that was when the Ignaleos Cor sat safely at Castle Rosi Island. Now the Cor was inside its own realm. If he did it now the Cor could appear anywhere. He needed an attractor, like a sword charged up with the same energy signature as the Ignaleos Cor.


    With his right fist still out, palms up, he opened his hand and with it a tear in the fabric of reality opened right above the krakenwreck and out spilled the Ignaleos Cor gem, as if being physically evacuated, ejected from the Corscape.


    It glowed more vibrantly than Mercinestor had ever seen before in his entire tenure as its guardian. Along with the Ignaleos Cor came Kara Ventrilles, barely keeping her fingers on the gem, and fitting through the pocket portal. She fell right into Cipher¡¯s arms, who dropped his sword just in time.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d come back for me. But how?¡±


    ¡°I just needed some help from my old man.¡±


    Mercinestor waved. That¡¯s when Cipher and Kara noticed Zora standing behind them. Mercinestor looked back and forth. Zora looked astonished at what she had just seen with the gem portal.


    ¡°They mean no harm. Zora and her dragon are not with the enemy. In fact, they¡¯re our escort.¡±


    ¡°Fathom cannot fit all of us on his back.¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t need to.¡± Cipher closed his right fist and his eyes, trying to concentrate again, but nothing happened. He started to get upset. Kara put her hand on his back. She looked at Cipher intently and smiled.


    ¡°Together.¡±


    Kara Ventrilles and Cipher Casterosi held hands and closed their eyes as they both reached out with their free hands. The Ignaleos Cor shook on the ground and then exploded into three rings. Between the first and second rings, there was Fathom waiting outside. Behind that, between the second and third rings, there was the smoldering city of Zepathorum City, from this angle it would put them in the fields north of the Gatehouse. They all walked through. Zora escorted Fathom through the final rings. The portals closed in a snap and the Ignaleos Cor fell into Kara¡¯s hands.


    They were standing before the city, after just being told that Mitakahn returned and Axion took the throne, thinking the worst of it was finally behind them. They couldn¡¯t be more wrong. Zora sitting atop Fathom looked on with horror, along with Mercinestor, Cipher, and Kara Ventrilles, as a juggernaut version of the Dark Lord ravaged the city. It looked like it was fighting something in the sky. Like a hive of fireflies.

 Chapter 96 (of 100): Titanfall

    <h2>CHAPTER 96 ¨C TITANFALL</h2>


    The dark lord trampled the countryside as King Axion and his company tried to keep the giant distracted. Malinor¡¯s chains came barreling by and caught both Anilithion and Mortikahn¡¯s blindsides, knocking them out. Humbler flew back around on his chrome-faced condor as the juggernaut swung its one remaining hammer at Mitakahn and the Phoenix. Kunezar left Axion¡¯s side as Eberlyn got there, and flew for the giant, low to the ground.


    Humbler came down hard on the giant¡¯s head with his hammer in one fluid dip and made for Anilithion. It shook its massive head. Anilithion plummeted to the floor when his cloak stiffened around the edges and parachuted. Humbler caught one brother and could see the other brother¡¯s condor steering him level. Mitakahn covered the juggernaut''s face in the Phoenix¡¯s fire, keeping it busy.


    Axion rubbed his head, Eberlyn was still guarding him as he came-to. The sight before them was catastrophic and unbelievable as Axion tried to make sense of what was happening. But the war was over? Right now, they should be sitting back and celebrating, not witnessing an unstoppable terror ravage their countryside. All this ran through Axion¡¯s mind as he watched the Phoenix blowing its fire onto the gigantic juggernaut, and his friends flying around it.


    Bridger snuck up on the giant. He flew his condor under it unnoticed, and up its chest. The giant had its head down and covered with its arms from the Phoenix¡¯s fury. Bridger loaded three arrows at once, pulled the bow back into place, aiming straight up. He fired the arrows and barely flew out of the way in time. All three arrows hit it in the eye, rendering it blind on the right side.


    Malinor took it out on the Phoenix and Mitakahn included. It roared in pain but was only momentarily incapacitated. The juggernaut threw its hammer directly into the sunbird, sending both it and Mitakahn spiraling through the air.


    From within, Excelsior cut through the lungs of the juggernaut. Looking at his intestinal surroundings, and the foul smell of death, Excelsior could swear he was in the NetherRealm. His own personal nightmare. Nothing could be more grotesque. He squirmed through the organs, using his knives to break open the undead muscular valves. Excelsior searched for its heart.


    Meanwhile outside, Tron moved in to take a run at the colossal beast. He flew toward the juggernaut wielding his sword and golden shield. Tron got around behind its head and came across its neck. He carved his sword into the creature¡¯s thick flesh, slitting its throat. But no blood ran from the wound. Malinor flinched briefly before head-butting Tron. The brave warrior tried to block the blow with his gold shield but failed. The giant knocked Tron off of his condor.


    From the sideline, Axion looked at his new sword. The FireSword was nearly out. His nerves spiked and he jumped to his feet. Upon the rapid movement the sword dialed up. The ruby vents opened, and the fire once again covered Axion. He jumped into the air and flew back for the juggernaut. Eberlyn rallied her spirits and followed behind him.


    They attacked its hands and Axion made his way for the other sledge hammer. He would take it down piece by piece if he had to, starting with its weapons. Axion rode up the giant¡¯s arm as it was rising. Eberlyn flew over to catch Tron, after getting knocked off his bird.


    Malinor¡¯s arm came down for the strike and there was Axion behind the hammer. Eberlyn caught Tron and got him out of the way. The Crucifire Sword blew the hammer to pieces and the juggernaut missed his target. Axion flew back around to finish the beast off but was hit by the chains across the face. He rolled away as the others countered the giant.


    After getting knocked off the Phoenix by the juggernaut, Mitakahn landed next to the shoreline of Lake Niobi. The sand cushioned his blow, but he still found it hard to move. He finally got himself up. He registered the current status. Lake Niobi no longer looked like a lake. Mitakahn searched for the Phoenix. The radiant sunbird landed next to him. The prince couldn¡¯t help but notice that Lorde Alphatross was beginning to fade away. He looked down at the abyss. The lake pulsed black ooze that was gradually spreading over onto the land past the beach, almost to the foundations of the Citadel itself.


    Mitakahn looked back at the battle. He was not far from his friends. Eberlyn rushed over with Tron. Bridger covered Axion as he shook off the chains¡¯ fury. The spreading algae stuck itself onto Mitakahn¡¯s foot, but the Phoenix burned it off with its fiery gaze. Mitakahn looked right at it.


    ¡°That was easy for you, huh?¡±


    The Phoenix nodded without physically moving. A slight chill of panic shot through Mitakahn as he confirmed the sunbird fading in and out of the atmosphere. What were they going to do without it?


    Meanwhile, back inside the juggernaut, Excelsior crawled further into the giant¡¯s chest. He came to its beating heart, and did not hesitate, seeping his two swords directly into the heart like a viper¡¯s bite. He pulled them out and his balance was stirred by a giant¡¯s rumble. Slow dark blood came leaking out of the giant heart onto Excelsior, covering him.


    In the air outside, Mortikahn awakened, still on his condor. He flew around the giant, the bird auto-piloting him to safety. He looked around for his brother, but Anilithion was gone. Across the field Mortikahn could see Anilithion lying beside Humbler and Kunezar. Only the juggernaut stood in between him and his brother, while it was currently entangled with Bridger. Anilithion began to get himself up. Bridger did not attack the giant but flew around it, keeping it occupied while his allies recovered.


    ¡°Time to do something daring.¡± Mortikahn said to himself.


    Mortikahn jolted down and under the giant, in between its legs. He swept underneath the juggernaut and sliced the inside of its ankle with his sword, before making a run for Anilithion.


    Bridger could no longer stay out of the giant¡¯s reach. The juggernaut grabbed a hold of him. Bridger¡¯s Chrome Faced Condor was dead. Bridger watched it fade away into thin air as he continued to plummet.


    Back on the beach, the Phoenix cried out and Mitakahn got back on it. It pushed off lightly into the air and flew for the sky way above the ensuing battle. The Phoenix basked in the sun¡¯s brilliance and warmth. Mitakahn had never flown this close to the sun before. He expected it to burn his skin, but he was impervious.


    He stared at it through the lens of the Phoenix and felt its power as a being in itself. Mitakahn¡¯s preconceived notions of life were shattered and forever lifted. The sun sent him flashes of the past, present, and future.


    Mitakahn swam in the lake with Theomitus. He looked into the Carbon Terra. He faced the Wolfe in the Forgotten Forest. He played in the gardens with Raja. He pulled the Crucifire Sword from the Flame Eterna. He dueled beside Epiphany in the Senate. He fought the basilisk in the Sacred Lands. The moon eclipsed the sun. Theomitus took his last breath.


    Mitakahn, wake up!


    He still remained upon the Phoenix, high in the sky. It was refueled with the revitalizing cosmic rays of the sun. The Phoenix returned from the sun and flew over the black abyss. It was the spawn of this sinister manifestation of Malinor, perhaps it could be its bane as well.


    Excelsior jumped back up onto the heart and pulled himself to the connecting tissue. He had severed the heart from the juggernaut¡¯s body, but it continued to live on. Excelsior exhausted all his options. It didn¡¯t kill the colossal beast, but it did do something to it. The giant wobbled around, as if winded, and dropped Bridger and his condor.


    Excelsior looked around at the enclosed organic chamber he was stuck in. The air was tight and damp. He was covered in bloody lethal sludge. Excelsior began to feel trapped. He jumped back through the way he carved out and crawled over to the lungs. Excelsior attempted to climb out of the giant¡¯s throat. He threw himself forward and caught a hold with his swords every jump. He used his knives to slowly ascend up the inside of the juggernaut.


    As he climbed higher and higher, the room got tighter and tighter. Soon there was no more elbow room to pull out his swords. His arms were stuck, and the swords lodged in. The moist tissue surrounded him. It was dark and damp, only spotted light came in from up top.


    Everything was fluid and tough, like tunneling through quicksand. The future was looking grim for Excelsior. He missed his pup. He wondered if he would ever see him again if he would ever get out of this tomb alive. Excelsior regretted ever sending him away. The walls were closing in, and Excelsior was running low on nerves.


    Outside on the ridge, Mitakahn could not figure out any other solutions besides the one. It felt like the Phoenix already knew. Mitakahn felt the mystical bird¡¯s embrace. This was a spiritual connection forming into words he understood.


    ¡°If I stay he will kill me. I have the power to cure the shadow lake. This is the only viable solution.¡±


    In an extended flash, the Phoenix transported him back to Eberlyn and Kunezar before it took off for the Abyss on its own. Mitakahn watched from the ridge, next to his kin and comrades, as Albatross, the Phoenix God, used the full capacity of its immense power.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Mortikahn and Anilithion helped Eberlyn get Tron back up. Humbler flew low, under the giant and caught Bridger. Anilithion got onto his brother¡¯s condor; their roles now reversed since the beginning of the fight, and they took off along with Kunezar, and Tron. Eberlyn returned to Axion who was reengaging the enemy and together, they flew along with everyone in yet another united charge against the unstoppable giant force.


    Mitakahn watched from the floor as the Phoenix flew into the abyss. They also watched the Phoenix from the Citadel as it arched over and into the black lake. Humbler and Bridger along with Mortikahn and Anilithion flew around the giant, confusing it. Kunezar and Tron dove down from above, both firing arrows. Anilithion gestured to Mortikahn and as they flew high around after Axion, Anilithion came up with a plan. He only hoped that his kingly cousin could keep up. Anilithion pulled out his whip.


    Inside the juggernaut, Excelsior gave up climbing the giant throat. And Mitakahn stood alone on the ridge, bidding farewell to the ancient god when he saw something flying in from the city.


    At the Citadel, Ady¨¢na looked on with her dying brothers in the face of the Phoenix¡¯s light. After all they had been through together, Ady¨¢na would not let him suffer alone. Compelled to risk, a sister put her own well-being aside and embraced her highly infectious brothers in their final moments, holding them close.


    The Phoenix burned its final light fiercely and dove into the Black Abyss.


    Mortikahn and Anilithion approached head-on from the right side, as Axion and Eberlyn did the same from the left. Anilithion threw his whip out before the giant¡¯s neck and Axion caught it, letting it wrap around his sword. The whip lit on fire all the way back down the line to Anilithion¡¯s hand.


    The Phoenix hit the black abyss and a flash blew out of the black hole. The blast wave passed through the juggernaut as the emblazon whip carved into the juggernaut¡¯s neck, beheading Malinor.


    Out from his open throat stuck the white hand of Excelsior. Tron tried to rescue him but was repelled by the flailing chains. The black algae was sucked back in. Anilithy¨¬stad and Paxikahn screamed ferociously, as if their insides were being torn out of them.


    A fur-covered warrior ran up the hide of the dying giant. Kunezar flew by for Excelsior¡¯s hand but was caught off balance by the giant¡¯s lumbering body. It was Orion, champion among canines that reached his master, but he could not jump high enough to pull Excelsior free.


    Only Orion could hear the call from the skies.


    The pup closed his eyes and jumped as high as he could. The Silver-tailed hawk, Chronis swooped down, back in his larger form, and bound himself to Orion¡¯s back. The illustrious silver swirled around the dog like a coat of armor, Chronis¡¯ sank into Orion¡¯s back and his metal tail extended up over the dog¡¯s head to make a helmet. Orion used the aerial upgrade to pull his master out of the esophagus sarcophagus.


    Excelsior¡¯s hand felt the familiar sensation of his pup¡¯s fur and grabbed a hold, coughing and panting uncontrollably.


    ¡°Orion! Is that you?¡± he gasped, ¡°You came for me¡­ even when¡­ I¡­ pushed you away. And look at you!¡±


    Excelsior would swear, from that day forth, under all that metal, he saw his dog smile upon his praise. Orion flew off the collapsing giant¡¯s carcass as he carried Excelsior safely back to the Citadel.


    Once the infection was extracted from Anilithy¨¬stad and Paxikahn, the suspended ooze floated down into the imploding Abyss. Anilithy¨¬stad and Paxikahn gasped for air on the floor, clenching at the invisible wounds on their abdomens. The pain soon subsided, and they slowly recovered.


    The headless juggernaut stumbled back but did not fall over. The retracting death pool succumbed to the fire magic of the Phoenix. The primordial power of the sun banished the shadow magic as the abyss vanished. Lake Niobi became clear water once again.


    Two horses rode up on Mitakahn still standing on the ridge. Uncle Nestor was on a very white and very dirty northern horse and to Mitakahn¡¯s joy, Cipher and Kara mounted a Shorelander stallion from the west.


    This surprise also explained what he had seen before as Fathom the dragon flying low and landing perfectly beside Mitakahn on the hill. Zora jumped off the dragon before Fathom came to a full stop. She was in a hurry.


    ¡°That won¡¯t kill it!¡± she told them.


    ¡°Then what will?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°The cor!¡± Kara proclaimed.


    Cipher furthered her idea. ¡°If that monster out there really did consume Magnanimous and his power¡­¡± He said, ¡°They may now share a link with the Cor like the Lion Lorde did.¡±


    ¡°How do we take advantage of the link?¡±


    ¡°We need to draw the lion''s power into the cor.¡±


    Mercinestor said, ¡°Burn it to the ground. We have enough firepower here to accomplish such a feat.¡±


    ¡°We burn it up with the Cor at the center¡­¡±


    Zora finally found her opportunity to speak. ¡°There are color temperatures hot enough to trigger such an exchange.¡±


    Cipher smiled and nodded at Mitakahn.


    Mitakahn rubbed his bearded chin with his silver gauntleted fingers and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you Cipher.¡±


    ¡°Shall we inform the King of our plan?¡± asked Mercinestor.


    ¡°As you wish uncle,¡± said Mitakahn as he whistled.


    Cipher and Kara went with Zora and Fathom. Mercinestor grew more and more confused until he saw who Mitakahn summoned. Chronis flew in still in his larger form. He had detached from Orion, letting the dog keep his own pair of silver wings for the time being. Orion flew on with Excelsior, while Chronis went looking for Mitakahn. The silver-tailed hawk swooped to a landing and allowed Mitakahn and Mercinestor to get on his back. They flew back into the air towards the fight, following Fathom to the headless juggernaut.


    It flailed around mindlessly, the towering body of the Dark Lord. Axion and Eberlyn, along with the chrome faced condors kept it from trampling the city with a tight perimeter. Fathom and Chronis entered the fight with their riders. Chronis hovered close enough to King Axion for Mitakahn to get a word to his brother. Eberlyn flew over to them, and together they came up with a plan. Chronis flew Mitakahn over to Fathom so he could talk to Zora and Cipher.


    ¡°Take a position on the southern flank, and on Axion¡¯s signal, melt that thing with everything Fathom¡¯s got. When the monster gets trapped in the fire, toss the Ignaleos Cor in.¡±


    They all nodded their heads. Zora moved Fathom around behind the headless titan while Axion and Eberlyn pivoted on both sides in front of it. The condors cleared their path and Axion raised his fire sword. On his signal, Fathom breathed fire out on the titan and Eberlyn flapped her flaming wings together until a stream of molten flame poured out and projected onto the lumbering colossus. King Axion swung the crucifire sword around, gathering up his fury, and then shot flames out of the sword mixing together with the rest.


    The three fires from different fundamental sources combined and mixed together to create a symphony of fire. Axion¡¯s majestic crucifire sword using primordial magic. Eberlyn¡¯s wings of fire born of the Phoenix and the same fires of the sun. Then there was Zora pushing Fathom to climb the color temperature levels, mixing in red, yellow, and blue, and trying to push through to the elite colors.


    What developed from the onslaught of flame was a cyclone of fire swirling around the blazing body. Cipher grabbed Kara¡¯s hand and they opened up two portals. The first portal was small and right in front of Cipher while they straddled the dragon flying through the air. The second portal appeared on the ground beneath the juggernaut. Cipher dropped the Cor through the gem portals. Kara clapped her hands together, closing the portals, leaving the Iganleos Cor inside the inferno. King Axion stopped shooting fire from his sword to regroup when Mitakahn flew up behind him.


    ¡°Cut it down!¡± he shouted.


    Axion flew low and carved the Crucifire sword through the legs of the titan. He could barely cut into the giant leg with the sword, the proportions were way too unfavorable. Axion flew back and tried to think. He looked at the flames coursing around him, allowing him to fly. It connected perfectly with the fire around the sword. Maybe he could control it.


    He concentrated on the fire bordering the sword. It started to grow. As it did, the vents on the swords engorged, pouring more fire out. The vents increasing in size caused the blade to get bigger as well. The metal got so big and so hot it blended with the flames around the edges. Soon the crucifire sword was almost as big as Axion¡¯s body. He was able to swing it, but by no means swiftly. It didn¡¯t matter. Axion used the enlarged firesword to cut through the juggernaut¡¯s leg to the bone. He bounced off the dense bone in the middle of the leg.


    Axion flew back in and stuck the point of the sword right into the bone, letting it go. He used the fire he possessed to fly back around and pick up enough speed to hit the firesword through the bone, cracking it in twain, and severing the leg from the giant. Axion still had to cut through the rest of the leg before it fell to the ground. The giant tried to take a step and fell onto its own dismembered leg. The fire cyclone collapsed over the fallen titan¡¯s body.


    Cipher tried to look at the Ignaleos Cor getting baked inside the carnage. Before he was able to see it light up like when Kara had it. Now it was nowhere to be found. Cipher wondered what was going on in there. Could this really work, or did they just make a grave mistake?


    Chronis and Orion flew the head of the juggernaut into the fire as Axion went to cut through the other leg so this thing could never walk again. With all its parts on the fire the trinity of flame began again. Now in the clear and warmed up, Zora was able to get Fathom to spill violet flame into the cyclone. This color temperature was hot enough to burn away any magical bindings.


    Explosions from inside the roasting carcass were covered by spinning winds of dust and smoke. It was almost impossible to see through the maelstrom. Something was happening though. Axion and company were able to land all around it as the fires became smaller and smaller.


    The fire continued to rage but then the strangest thing happened. The fire almost stopped moving. It slowed down so much the flame split like a flower opening its petal and out tumbled the Ignaleos Cor.


    It was clear¡­empty.


    The gem did not light up, it no longer looked blue. The still flames peeled back and down, all around the juggernaut carnage. In the middle was a human figure glowing red. It waved its arm and sent a blast wave forth, knocking back everybody except Axion, absorbing the blow, and Mitakahn, standing behind him.

 Chapter 97 (of 100): Harbinger of Death

    <h2>CHAPTER 97 ¨C HARBINGER OF DEATH</h2>


    The red figure glowed, pulsating feircely. It rose into the air with its arms out and floated towards them. Mitakahn looked back for his friends. There was a red fog in the way. It would just be him and his brother against this new evil. The Arkenoir brothers slowly approached it. As they got closer, it lowered to the ground and refined itself.


    The red glow diminished into a cobalt metal man cloaked in shadow. His body armor looked like hard sea-stone rocks that twitched slightly. His face under the shadow hood still reminiscent of the vanity mask, with slits hiding his very human eyes. He focused and the metal turned back to skin, except for his face. It was still the dark lord in there regaining control.


    ¡°We finally reach the end.¡±


    ¡°The end of you!¡± Axion said.


    ¡°I have you two to thank for a lot of this.¡±


    Mitakahn and Axion looked at each other, uncomfortable that the Dark Lord was acting like he knew them.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°I am Malinor Exalted, the Dark Lord and ruler of the South, the god of darkness and the god of pride.¡±


    ¡°You cannot be Magnanimous.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but I am!¡± Malinor laughed maniacally, ¡°Or rather yet, I am Malignant. This is a strange concoction I have within me.¡±


    ¡°You belong in the NetherRealm, you abomination.¡±


    ¡°Thankfully, the Ignaleos Cor gave me the filter I needed to sort through all this cosmic energy, and get a hold of my power. It is complete. I am the god of the north and the south. I am the Omega.¡±


    ¡°I have something to say about that.¡± King Axion pointed the Crucifire Sword at the Dark Lord.


    ¡°Ah yes, the Sword of Heroes, of the great Lord Patronalus who gave it to you instead of intervening himself, how admirable! He probably saw what happened to that goddess who foolishly fought beside the Lion Lorde.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mitakahn asked. He could only mean one goddess¡­Epiphany. ¡°What happened to her?¡±


    ¡°Oh Mitakahn, why would I tell you that? I¡¯m your sworn enemy. I mean to kill you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve stopped to talk this much already. Humor me before you kill us.¡±


    ¡°I am no fabled villain. Hubris will not be my pitfall. Although¡­¡± Malinor grinned, ¡°I will say this. Just to see the look on your face when you find out.¡±


    ¡°Find out what?¡±


    ¡°I released another Incapsulate Impernum.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked Axion.


    ¡°Who?¡± asked Mitakahn.


    ¡°The fool who started all of it. Who doomed this world to those worthless animals.¡±


    ¡°Quarrel¡­¡±


    Axion looked back and forth as Malinor laughed at Mitakahn¡¯s distress.


    ¡°They tumbled away in a flash and never returned. Maybe they¡¯re both dead. Hail Solstice.¡±


    ¡°Once we''re done putting you in the ground for good. I''m going to go find her. You''ll never win!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s put that to the test now, shall we?¡± taunted Malinor as he pulled out his reaper blade.


    Malinor lunged at Mitakahn and Axion got in the way. Axion and Malinor clashed swords. Axion blazed his fire and let it wrap around him like armor. They fought back and forth until Malinor got bored of their petty fencing. He pulled an orb of necrotica out of thin air with his empty hand and threw it at Axion.


    Mitakahn slid into Axion¡¯s blind spot and lifted up his silver gauntlet to shield his face, deflecting the orb away. The two brothers put up a valiant effort against the dark lord. Together, they were unstoppable.


    The only problem was that the Dark Lord¡¯s powers knew no bounds. Malinor screamed in agony as he split himself apart into two identical copies of himself. They pointed their swords at the brothers and started to fight two on two. Axion and Mitakahn kept switching opponents in order to keep one step ahead of the Dark Lord. They both knew to not let the reaper blades touch them. Neither were sure if one Dark Lord was real and the other was fake or if they both were real, so they played it safe, and assumed both were real.


    Back and forth they crossed swords, lunged, and dodged, to keep out of harm¡¯s way. At this point they were both defending, never getting a real chance to strike the overpowering Dark Lord. Malinor screamed again and his copies each made copies. There were now four Dark Lords attacking the Arkenoir brothers. Axion pushed Mitakahn away.


    ¡°Go break the barrier, little brother. I can handle this.¡±


    Mitakahn didn¡¯t argue. He ran ahead as Axion turned back for the Dark Lords. Axion stepped out of his fire armor and when he waved his sword the sword made of pure fire attached to his flame shadow also waved. Axion attacked the four dark lords with his flame shadow covering his back.


    Mitakahn rushed through the red fog. It felt like it was never going to end. The farther he got from the center the more dense it became. The fog got so thick Mitakahn was no longer able to run. He screamed out and heard muffled responses beyond the red fog. There had to be a breaking point. He kept his sword out and pointed in front of him. It seemed to help. Finally, the fog was as thick as a wall and curved around like a bubble barrier.


    Mitakahn tried to stab the red fog dome. It didn¡¯t budge. He took several strikes at it. Some marks and gashes remained in the wall, but it didn¡¯t sustain any real damage. Mitakahn had to think of something. Time was of the essence. He could see silhouettes on the other side of the red fog dome. He punched it. That just hurt his hand.


    Mitakahn put his sword away but kept his gauntlet out. He concentrated on getting back to his friends. His silver gauntlet began to glow white and then Mitakahn punched the dome with it, fracturing the outside of the red fog wall as if it was made of invisible glass.


    Mitakahn kept punching repeatedly until the wall was ready to crumble. Finally, the wall fell, and he was able to get outside of the Dark Lord¡¯s red fog dome. Standing just on the outside of the bubble was Eberlyn, Cipher, Kara, Mercinestor, Zora, Anilithion, Mortikahn, Excelsior, Tron, Bridger, Kunezar, and Humbler, along with Fathom, Chronis, and Orion. All waiting for their chance to help.


    ¡°Follow me!¡± Mitakahn yelled out, and they all ran into the dark lord''s red fog.


    Inside the center of the red, Malinor had the king pinned down with his clones. They destroyed Axion¡¯s flame shadow and now they tried to pry his grip from the crucifire sword. As they did so, Malinor talked to him.


    ¡°You should join me, Axion. The gods have chosen us to change things. I have seen what lies beyond MagnaThora. The only way to break free is to topple the already standing order. If you become my apprentice I will tell you everything. This is our destiny. I¡¯ve taken the covenant.


    "I''ll tell you what they are too afraid to. The fire force is not one of pure good. Fire has to destroy to create warmth. One day you will understand what I mean, and I want you to find me. I''ve seen more than you could possibly imagine, son. Eventually we will stand side by side in the pursuit of answers, doing whatever it takes to get the truth.¡±


    ¡°You want me to help you destroy the world? Never!¡±


    ¡°You fool. That was your only chance to get out of this alive. Now you die!¡±


    The only Dark Lord that was not either holding down Axion or trying to grab the sword stood over him and pressed his reaper blade on the side of Axion¡¯s forehead. The king screamed in excruciating pain. The fire from the sword erupted and bucked the Dark Lords off the king. Axion got back to his feet just as Mitakahn and company arrived. The Dark Lord made more copies of his copies to even the odds.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Mitakahn asked his brother.


    ¡°He tried..to recruit me...¡± Axion confessed. ¡°Why me?¡±


    Mitakahn looked over at Eberlyn who was standing between them.


    ¡°Am I that corruptible?¡± asked Axion.


    ¡°Not corruptible. Think about it! It''s because you are the most powerful,¡± Mitakahn said, ¡°He singled you out and gave you a chance to not be a threat. This means you stand the best shot at defeating him. It also means that he¡¯ll probably target you first.¡±


    Axion thought about his brother¡¯s words. He did repel the Dark Lord when he needed to most. This awesome power was specifically given to him. Whether it killed him or not, he had to try, he had to fight the Dark Lord. As everyone lined up against the Dark Lord clones, Axion told them to bring the real one to him as soon as they located him. Down the line, Axion, Eberlyn, Mitakahn, Zora, Fathom, Cipher, Kara, Mercinestor, Anilithion, Mortikahn, Tron, Bridger, Kunezar, Humbler, Excelsior, with Orion, and Chronis from above, all collided with the Dark Lord clones.


    Axion and Eberlyn made quick work of their clones and helped Humbler and Kunezar fight. Anilithion used his whip and cloak in tandem against his Dark Lord clone bringing it to a swift demise. He blocked the black orbs with his cloak, whipped his hand together, cut them off with his sword, and then beheaded the clone before it could mutter any more incantations. After that, he helped his brother who was struggling against his opponent.


    Fathom kicked the clone off Mortikahn. He rolled away and caught his breath. Anilithion ran up next to him, patting his brother¡¯s back. Fathom, already having destroyed his Dark Lord clone, burned, and smashed as many as he could before the inevitable happened. One Dark Lord floated into the air and grabbed the dragon by the throat.


    The real Malinor spoke the ancient tongue of the dragon tribe.


    Kolouo set aladisi!


    Fathom¡¯s eyes spun and changed colors to violet, even the pupils. This wasn¡¯t conditioning, this was possession. Zora screamed in terror for her dragon. Mitakahn and Excelsior battling nearby rushed to her aid. Having seen the commotion Axion wasted no time. He nodded at Eberlyn, and they began their attack.


    The Dark Lord knocked back Excelsior and Orion, even still in his metal form. Mitakahn got close enough to threaten Malinor with landing a sword strike, so he released Fathom and set his sights on Mitakahn. Instead of coming to and flying away, Fathom dropped to the floor and didn¡¯t budge. Zora rushed to the downed dragon¡¯s side.


    ¡°You want to take that pathetic, traitorous beast¡¯s place? So be it!¡±


    Now Malinor¡¯s eyes glowed violet as he lifted Mitakahn up in the air with the same violet energy. The Dark Lord threw Mitakahn¡¯s sword away. When he tried to retract his gauntlet Malinor stopped him with the violet energy and forced him to keep it open. Then he started peeling the gauntlet away. Mitakahn retched in agony. King Axion drove the Crucifire Sword through the Dark Lord¡¯s abdomen. From the angle of the strike a massive chunk was carved out of Malinor, including his sword wielding arm. He dropped Mitakahn and attacked Axion like a wild animal. Axion placed the Crucifire sword between them and the vents on the sword released its maximum amount of fire. The sheer force of the fire coming from the sword was enough to keep the Dark Lord at bay.


    The flames roared and whipped, and spat, and changed all around the Dark Lord as he absorbed most of the attack. He knew Axion was only human, and although the magic of the crucifire sword was extremely powerful, the lion prince was no god. He would run out of energy eventually. Malinor waited it out and sure enough the fire dissipated. This was his chance. He lunged for the source of the flame, but instead of King Axion it was Eberlyn, using her wings of fire. They had swapped positions. Before the Dark Lord could react King Axion brought the crucifire sword down on top of him, severing his left shoulder to his right hip.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Bridger Callister from the other side of the fight shot an arrow out of his bow that sliced right through the Dark Lord¡¯s spine, the only thing left that was keeping him together. He crumbled to a pile of guts. The fire then burnt the guts to ash, sword and wings. The Dark Lord Malinor was finally vanquished.


    Maniacal laughter came from the pile of burnt flesh and bones. The fires settled so they could inspect the carcass. When enough of the smoke cleared everyone gathered in a circle around the remains. The laughter simmered down but did not stop. Just like everybody else, Mitakahn looked at the carnage for a face. All he really saw was burnt flesh and armor. The weird twitchy armor along with nothing else.


    Why did the armor twitch? It still twitched. Even though the armor was made up of hand size plates welded together, they cracked and came apart in the fire. The more they twitched the more he could see them everywhere. From within them, under each and every one, eight little legs popped out. They twitched because they were alive. Before anyone could make sense of the stone spiders they were already crawling onto their legs. Everyone scattered and the laughter got louder.


    The rest of the red fog dome swirled around them and like a miniature cyclone it spun into the laughing carcass. Storm clouds formed above it naturally as the moisture in the air spiked. Clouds collided and sparked lightning to fill the cyclone, fusing the red fog with the Dark Lord¡¯s remains. The laughter finally revealed its source¡­Malinor. The vanity mask was gone. The Dark Lord stared at them with red skin and a shadow cloak, not fully human.


    ¡°You cannot kill me. You can only change me, make me more powerful.¡±


    Malinor reached forth, his hands like claws. Red spikes shot up from the ground all around them. One hit Orion and he howled. Humbler and Anilithion also got clipped in the legs. Mortikahn ran over to his brother, as well as Excelsior to Orion. Malinor threw another volley of red spears at them. Eberlyn flew in front of them and spun, spilled her flame out from her wings, melting the spears before they could reach anyone.


    ¡°You people love your fire.¡± the Dark Lord taunted them. He pulled a spear up through the ground. Mitakahn watched him carefully, trying not to let fear cloud his observations. The Dark Lord appeared to be making the spears from the metal and earth he was pulling them from. This one spear hovered in the air as he spoke to it. It turned almost clear, except it was white and blue. What did it remind Mitakahn of? The snowfruit!


    The Dark Lord turned the spear to ice and then threw it at the ground between them. Mitakahn yelled for Eberlyn. ¡°Jump!¡± She jumped up and flew into the air along with Axion. The spear hit the ground and, upon impact, froze it. They were lucky to break free from being stuck to the ice.


    Malinor growled loud enough for them to hear and then clapped the air together. The diminishing storm cloud above them instantly turned to snow that dumped on top of them like a white blanket. Fathom, still downed, was now covered in frozen white. Eberlyn¡¯s wings of fire flickered out as they absorbed the moisture of the snow. All that remained was the flame of the Crucifire Sword. King Axion held it firm and burned a fierce look in his eyes.


    ¡°We settle this right here. Right now. The two of us. To the death.¡±


    ¡°You really are as dense as your kin. I cannot die. So, who''s death do you speak of? Let''s find out!¡± Malinor smirked.


    ¡°My gods,¡± Mitakahn gasped.


    Malinor waved his hand, and one unlucky soul flew over to him. The Dark Lord prodded his helpless victim''s back and searching for his spine, all the while looking at the Arkenoir brothers.


    ¡°This is what happens when you two entitled little brats bring innocent people in to fight against powers far beyond them-¡±


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t!¡± Mitakahn begged but it was futile.


    ¡°Mitakahn!¡± the helpless victim cried out.


    ¡°Kones! no!¡± the group collective yelled.


    Kunezar, the quiet knight from the Sandlands, one of Mitakahn¡¯s oldest friends from the Silver Den, squirmed in the Dark Lord¡¯s death grip. He was looking right in Mitakahn¡¯s eyes.


    "Ah, here we go." Malinor brought his claws together, stabbed Kunezar¡¯s back, breaking the flesh, grabbed his spine and twisted. Mitakahn watched his friend¡¯s eyes go limp. Malinor tossed Kunezar¡¯s body away without breaking his stare and then charged at them. Mitakahn was frozen, completely unnerved, lost in his grief. Malinor wasted no time and conjured his reaper blade as he went for a kill stroke.


    King Axion parried the Dark Lord¡¯s reaper blade with his fire sword. He stood in front of Mitakahn, protecting his brother. Axion looked around. Eberlyn was down. Mitakahn was lost. This was turning into a massacre, and that really pissed the king off.


    Axion¡¯s eyes lit with a yellow flame. He grabbed the reaper blade with his free hand. The yellow flames in his eyes swelled and released down to his right hand. Once the yellow flame mingled with the red flame on his left hand, Axion squeezed and broke the reaper blade into a hundred tiny pieces.


    Mitakahn finally snapped out of it and ran over to Kunezar¡¯s limp body as Axion and Malinor battled back and forth around him. He got to his friend on the ground and put his fingers in front of his nose and mouth. He could feel air hitting them. Kunezar was still breathing. Cipher and Kara joined Mitakahn. They rolled Kunezar over in the melting snow and gently dressed his wound as best they could. Kara really took the lead, already having most of the field equipment for such a dressing with her.


    Bridger and Tron brought Eberlyn over, who was completely out of sorts without her wings, trying to figure out how to reignite them. Part of Eberlyn worried if she lost her wings forever. Now that the phoenix was gone, and she was so far from Mount Fire, and the Flame Eterna¡­ well, it was a valid concern. Zora called to her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will wake my child and he will help you regain your fire. You will see.¡± Zora reassured her all was not lost. Bridger and Tron escorted Eberlyn over to Zora and Fathom slowly.


    Mercinestor joined Mitakahn, Cipher, and Kara who were caring for Kunezar. He kept his eyes on King Axion and the Dark Lord dueling in front of them, fire clashing against darkness. Lord Mercinestor Casterosi glared at Malinor. He said, ¡°We must prevail against this evil.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do to kill it,¡± said Cipher.


    ¡°We could trap it.¡± Mitakahn said.


    ¡°With what?¡± asked Kara.


    ¡°We could turn the cor into an Incapsulate Impernum," Mitakahn went on.


    Cipher laughed sardonically, ¡°We just tried using the cor and look where it got us.¡±


    ¡°Hang on, Mitakahn.¡± Kara said, ¡°All you know is the gods got trapped in those gems. Do you even know how they did it?¡±


    ¡°Mostly with trickery,¡± answered Mitakahn.


    ¡°That doesn''t tell us anything. And we don¡¯t even have the cor.¡± Kara sighed.


    Mercinestor revealed the clear orb that was once a fierce rolling blue. ¡°I¡¯m still its keeper.¡± He dropped it into Cipher¡¯s hands. ¡°If anyone can figure this out it''s you three.¡± Mercinestor smiled and winked at Cipher.


    Cipher thought the situation through out loud. ¡°There is a natural precedent. The Dark Lord consumed all the energy from the gem, including Magnanimous. He basically made it a shell that wants its core back. An organic link between the two of them exists. And if we know that much, then we can use it. Just the fire didn''t work before. So, we will have to trap him with his own energy.


    ¡°But if we try to trap him, he''ll just turn his own magic against us and break out. He¡¯s too powerful. We would need to couple the dark lord¡¯s power with something different but equal in strength like Axion¡¯s power. Trap him, lock him in there, and turn the key with the Crucifire Sword.¡±


    ¡°Worth a try, I think,¡± said Mercinestor.


    ¡°If it¡¯s all we got, there¡¯s really no choice.¡± said Kara, ¡°We have to do something.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still working out the how¡­¡± said Cipher.


    Mitakahn got up and put his sword in his right hand. He looked back at them with the sun behind him. He reached out with his gauntleted hand and gestured for the cor.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make it happen.¡±


    Cipher handed him the empty gem. He lingered before he let go. Mitakahn looked at him, and Cipher looked back thoughtfully. He knew exactly what Mitakahn was going to do when he had the gem, so Cipher hesitated in the last moment of letting his friend go.


    Cipher released the gem. Mitakahn took it and ran straight for Axion and Malinor fighting on the ridge, into the fray, alone, without looking back.


    Mitakahn was launched back by a blast wave. He got to his feet and saw King Axion staggering to keep his stance right in front of him. Mitakahn approached Axion. ¡°We¡¯re going to try to put him in the cor.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Axion asked. When he didn¡¯t get an answer he looked back. Mitakahn just shrugged. Axion shook his head and took a deep breath. It was time to give it all he¡¯s got and hold nothing back.


    ¡°You all look like you¡¯re about to try something stupid.¡± Malinor said outright. ¡°Do I have to kill someone else? How about this? I already did and you will never know how. Today, right now, as you requested, we fight to the death. One of us will walk away and the other won¡¯t, and it won¡¯t matter how I killed your father. All that matters is that I killed your father. Hahaha!¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Axion cried out. Mitakahn grabbed his brother to keep the King from charging full tilt in rage, but his heart also ached.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± Mitakahn said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t believe me? That¡¯s fine¡­I¡¯ll kill your mother next, without ever getting near her. The tainted lake almost did it for me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± both brothers asked.


    ¡°What aren¡¯t you two getting about this? I¡¯m going to kill everyone you love until you give up or die.¡±


    ¡°I can stop you.¡± Axion said firmly.


    ¡°You can¡¯t stop me! No one can. I¡¯ve become too powerful. Patronalus would have to come down here himself and in doing so break the ancient covenants. It is impressive how astoundingly little you two know about MagnaThora.¡±


    ¡°We know enough!¡± yelled Mitakahn.


    Axion swung the Crucifire Sword at the Dark Lord. He formed a spear out of the shadow in his cloak and it turned to dark metal. The spear clashed with the firesword. They crossed, sword against spear, over and over again. Axion launched the yellow flames from his eyes onto the spear. It began to tangle with his red flames already on the dark lord¡¯s spear.


    The Dark Lord stepped back and spun the spear so fast the flames either flew off or blew out. He spun the spear so incredibly fast that it became a vacuum of air, and nothing could feed the flames, so they extinguished. He let go of the spear with his left hand and started gathering darkness in his open palm. He lifted the spear, tip up, with his right hand and a lightning bolt hit it, he coursed the bolt through his body and used it to launch the orb of darkness in his left hand.


    The charged shadow orb flew straight for King Axion. Mitakahn stepped in the way, holding the empty Ignaleos Cor with his gauntleted hand. He looked at his brother, the king, as it hit. The surge of pain coursed through his body in a fraction of a second. It felt like he was on fire and getting crushed at the same time.


    Mitakahn endured the pain enough to get out four words to his brother.


    ¡°Light me on fire.¡±


    Axion barely hesitated. Mitakahn didn¡¯t know what to make of that and probably never would. Axion poured red fire all over his brother. Mitakahn shook in frustration, but then he noticed something. The orb Malinor threw at them wasn¡¯t hitting him anymore. It was being absorbed by the cor!


    ¡°Hit me with the hot stuff!¡± Mitakahn yelled.


    ¡°Mitakahn, it will kill you.¡±


    ¡°That''s the point!¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°I welcome death! I want to see father again. This world is not right without him. I hate it.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t lose you too.¡±


    ¡°You''ll be just fine without me, my king.¡±


    Axion held back tears as he sent the hotter red flames into the Iganleos Cor and Mitakahn by proximity.


    ¡°Wait!¡± someone yelled from behind them.


    It was Zora and Eberlyn running forth, Zora on Fathom and Eberlyn fully aflame. Fathom shot out fire and with it carried a line of transparent red flame that would block Mitakahn from some of the hottest temperatures. Eberlyn also hit the cor with her phoenix flame. She had watched Fathom spark up on his own and when her eyes caught his magnificent flames, her wingfire awoke returning in equal splendor.


    Chronis swooped down and flew right into the mess of energy. He looked at Mitakahn and then started flapping his wings right at the cor. The edges of his silver tipped wings melted and when he flapped them he sprayed the silver onto the cor, only it glowed. The sight of it was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Mitakahn fell to his knees. It was all too much to bear. The pain was still there. Yes, it was quelled by Fathom''s intervention but it still hurt like hell. Gods, if Fathom wasn''t there protecting him, Mitakahn would surely be dead already.


    ¡°Toss it!¡± Axion yelled.


    All of Mitakahn''s strength was being spent on enduring the fires. He managed to throw the silver encrusted gem radiating all sorts of lights into the air as he finally fell over. King Axion straightened out the blade on the Crucifire Sword by rubbing his freehand down it from handle to tip and then swung at the gem arching through the air. He hit the cor with the sword and knocked it directly into Malinor''s chest.


    Malinor tried to remove it, but a whip snatched his arm away. Anilithion and Mortikahn held the other end of the whip. Before Malinor could react to one side of him, Bridger, and Tron both grabbed his other arm, wrestling his hand to the ground. Humbler used the spike side of his sledgehammer to impale the Dark Lord¡¯s hand. He was stuck. He squirmed, screamed, and started muttering incantations. His pinned arm was getting longer. It stretched as he started getting back up.


    Chronis swooped in and shot silver feathers like darts into Malinor¡¯s mouth, stitching it shut. Malinor mumble-screamed as the silver encrusted gem devoured him from the inside out. Everyone let go of the Dark Lord imploding. He turned into the same encrusted silver and then started to compress into the gem. Until finally, the Dark Lord was confined to the Ignaleos Cor, now an oval shape and swirling red and black on the inside.


    King Axion held the gem in his hand. They did it. They couldn¡¯t kill him but were able to stop him. He would see to it that the Dark Lord¡¯s malice was never again unleashed upon the world. He would be the guardian of the Cor Incapsulate.


    Tron picked Mitakahn up from the floor. He was dazed. His left arm was glowing, on fire. At first, it had no color, and then Tron could see the reds and yellows as the flames dissipated. Mitakahn opened his eyes and greeted his friend.


    "Did it work?"


    "It worked."


    Tron couldn''t help but notice white in Mitakahn¡¯s hair that had not been there before: wild and sparse strands on top, streaks on his sideburns, and speckled spots throughout his beard. The fight had taken it''s toll on the prince. He now looked far past his years.


    Mitakahn assured his friend he was able to walk on his own again. Chronis landed in front of Tron and Mitakahn. He examined Mitakahn and then jumped up and landed on the prince¡¯s shoulder.


    Tron brought him before King Axion who showed his brother the spoils of their efforts. Mitakahn couldn¡¯t believe it. Their impromptu plan actually worked. Could this really mean the end of the war?

 Chapter 98 (of 100): A New Dawn

    <h2>CHAPTER 98 ¨C A NEW DAWN</h2>


    The doors began to open. Anilithyistad and Adyana waited inside the Citadel along with Commander Cel¡¯a. The giant Citadel doors opened fully and there standing in the light was King Axion, Mitakahn, and the rest of the group that went up against the Dark Lord. Adyana ran over to her sons and greeted both of them with tears of joy. She could not be more proud of them overcoming overwhelming odds and saving the kingdom. She tried not to focus on the fact that Mitakahn looked like he just been dragged through the nethers. She hugged them both, a son in each arm, and they embraced her back. It felt good to be back in their mother¡¯s arms, both of them, a much needed reprieve. The queen¡¯s boys were exhausted. They had seen true horror this day. Yes, the kingdom was saved, but at great cost.


    The sacrifice was enormous. The casualties were piled high, starting with: Galastad and the Governor Demeter, and ending with thousands more. Kunezar was paralyzed from the waist down and might never walk again. Mitakahn was also visibly different. He looked like he had aged a decade in a day. His hair now had streaks of white along the sides and in the beard. He was also quieter, more introspective.


    Beyond that, the Serengeti was speckled with horrors and some small towns that made it through everything untarnished. The true miracle. There were only three of them.. Zepathorum City was a mess. The city was host to a mass cemetery above the ground, rioting fires burning all throughout the shattered city streets. Buildings were crumbled and the entire east wall was demolished. But nothing could surmount the destruction of Port Caliber. The port city would have to be rebuilt brick by brick. It would take a long time for the nation to rebuild. After this war, the Lion Kingdom would never be the same.


    They were all in the circle before the citadel now. Axion stood next to his uncle, caressing his FireSword while Eberlyn floated beside him. Chronis, along with the Chrome Face Condors left Zepathorum, flying into the air, heading back to their home in Legacy City. Mitakahn watched his bird fly off once again, wondering if he would ever return, knowing in his heart the answer was yes.


    Jericho and Paxikahn made their way down the Citadel after they started feeling better. They met the returning warriors at the circle of the courtyard where the townsfolk were beginning to shuffle out of the Citadel basement shelter. They all greeted Jericho in smiles, especially Mortikahn. Mitakahn looked around. Everyone coming out of the shelter not only greeted the sun but greeted their new king. Axion saved the people of the Pride.


    They all greeted and praised him as their savior. And the King reflected that praise right back onto Mitakahn with his eyes, knowing full well none of his would have been possible without him. The war was over. They could begin to rebuild. First they needed to ensure the enemy¡¯s defeat. The rest of the day was spent searching the two cities for survivors and rogue darksiders, until finally they could rest knowing the kingdom was once again safe. That night they slept under the stars for the first time in weeks. Everyone needed a good night¡¯s sleep, but after recent events everyone also had trouble relaxing in darkness. Eventually, it would come back to them.


    One day later, the sun stood center in the sky. Axion¡¯s time had come. All of the surviving citizens came out to see the new king take the throne. In the Lion Kingdom, a long standing tradition took place every time a new king was appointed. And now, in the first light of a kingdom¡¯s rebirth, Axion knew tradition was needed most.


    Crimson Boulevard was filled not with senators and ambassadors, but the survivors and townsfolk of the Pride. From way up top, Ady¨¢na reached under the throne¡¯s armrest and triggered the other switch. The spiraling staircase leading up the Citadel began to straighten out and part the Citadel down the middle, and in doing so, opened it up. The Citadel opened in front of the courtyard and before the citizens of the Pride, all in attendance.


    The crowd separated in half down the middle. Commander Cel¡¯a accompanied Axion while they walked to the stairs. Down Crimson Boulevard, the society of the Lion Kingdom cleared the way for their new king to take the throne. Axion walked down the lines of mixed company: ragged and dirty villagers from the Serengeti, tarnished and homeless sailors and merchants from Port Caliber, the familiar faces of Zepathorum, the few resilient soldiers of the Royal Guard, the militia, and the remaining reinforcements from Metuchen and the Serengeti.


    He owed each and every one of them a lifetime of thanks. He would dedicate his reign as king to paying them back for their sacrifices. When they reached the end of their walk Axion turned around and thanked Commander Cel¡¯a for her service to the kingdom. The path up to the staircase started with Anilithy¨¬stad, his sons, Jericho, and Paxikahn standing at the base. Anilithy¨¬stad smiled and Jericho nodded his head, pushing Axion forward. At last, Axion arrived at the staircase.


    There waiting for him was his beloved, Eberlyn, dressed in a beautiful golden gown. She said softly to him, after a kiss on the cheek, ¡°I¡¯m here to take you the rest of the way.¡±


    Eberlyn put out her hand, and Axion took it. Together, they began the last steps to the throne and the rule of the Lion Kingdom. Axion journeyed to the top of the stairs as Eberlyn floated beside him. Mitakahn, Queen Ady¨¢na, and House Casterosi waited at the top of the citadel stairs. They arrived at the top and the crowd below them cheered. Ady¨¢na anointed her firstborn son with the Crimson Cloak of Kings. Mercinestor held the Scepter of Zenothorus and stood before him and the throne.


    Axion hugged his mother and continued forward. Mercinestor presented him with the Staff of the Nation. And Axion stood before his kingdom, finally atop the throne. He sat on the throne and the crowd bowed down before him. From the crowd Anilithy¨¬stad called out, ¡°ALL HAIL AXION! PRIDE LORD AND HERO KING OF ZEPATHORUM!¡±


    King Axion stood up, along with his kingdom, and raised the Sword of Heroes in the air proudly. The King charged his firepower, and the ruby gem vents on the sword fired off high into the sky in exploding red flares and orchestral flames. Down below, the entire Pride sang and danced in jubilation. They celebrated the birth of a new era. Mitakahn watched it all and smiled, biting back tears of pride and honestly... utter relief.


    For the momentous events that have passed unlocked a window of tangents and prophetic covenants in the world of MagnaThora. And these two brothers would find themselves at the center of it all. Axion now sat in his kingdom as King, and Mitakahn was beginning to realize his own fate as a godwalker. Without any of them knowing it, the Dark Lord Malinor had actually succeeded and began the chain of events that would eventually lead to the Age of Solstice, and greater MagnaThora¡¯s complete undoing.


    They would spend a great deal of time rebuilding the damage caused from the war. And the dead that gave their lives to save the kingdom would always be remembered and honored. But for now, the kingdom would come together in harmony and celebrate in a well-deserved time of peace.


    They danced and sang in revelries below. Eberlyn joined them and danced with her flaming wings swaying along with her hips, enhancing her enchanting dance moves. Adyana watched her, reminiscent of their time in Ashtown, at the festival. The royal family and Mitakahn¡¯s company celebrated on the several levels of the Citadel. Mitakahn and Cipher shared drinks with King Axion and the ordinary townsfolk, now invited to the top of the Citadel, in the throne room, on the opened balconies. King Axion sat on his throne, in his royal apparel, showing his subjects and brethren the view from the top.


    ¡°We got here together. Let us never forget it.¡±


    Axion fit well in his new position. The crown sat comfortably on his head, as it was always going to. Given all his reluctance and reasons to refuse the throne, in the end it only furthered his inherent claim to the throne. Axion was worried he wasn¡¯t good enough and in that self-doubt and self-awareness he found his worth.


    When the time came he did what was right and what needed to be done to protect his kingdom. Axion gave his all. The throne and crown was now his, along with its new addition. At the center of the golden crown with crimson trim there was a new jewel. The royal family agreed with the combined wisdom of the kingdom and its allies that the gem prison would be welded onto Axion¡¯s crown. As much as Mercinestor wanted to continue being the cor¡¯s guardian. He would have to settle for being the crown¡¯s guardian instead, a fitting job.


    It looked like a ruby gemstone, but it was not. Now the oval-shaped gem was cut and refined in perfection. The Cor Incapsulate decorated the crown, holding its prisoner in plain sight: the Dark Lord Malinor stuck in the NetherRealm for all eternity.


    ¡ñ ¡ñ ¡ñ


    The next day, after the smoldering ruins of the cities and the countryside finally stopped smoking and the skies were clear of any cloud sinister or not, it was the brightest morning of their lives. The sun came up as if it was there all along. Mitakahn woke up early and walked the beach. The sun lit the lake up in almost unbearable brilliance, reminiscent of the Phoenix. Mitakahn walked along the water, sinking his feet. It was so quiet. The crashing waves were the only ambiance. Mitakahn felt at peace.


    Mitakahn had a newfound respect for the tide bringing the water in, and the sand beneath his feet. Nothing was more reliable than earth and water. Mitakahn meditated on the end of his journey before the beach and the sun. He opened his mind to the past, empowered the present, and looked to the future. Mitakahn absorbed the spirit of the morning sun.


    From what looked like inside the sun, Chronis the silver-tailed hawk flew down and landed in front of Mitakahn. The silver bird looked him in the eye as best he could. Mitakahn was still mesmerized by this animal¡¯s intelligence. Mitakahn could tell¡­the bird was trying to convey something to him. Mitakahn let his mind drift and Chronis began to caw like he did on the road, with Anilithion. If Mitakahn shifted his focus away from listening to the bird¡¯s caws his could hear faint echoes of words.


    ¡°When you are ready. You must come with me.¡±


    Mitakahn nodded his head. Part of him was excited about what that meant. Would he be able to see Chronis¡¯ home? Legacity City was a complicated place. For many nations it''s a heaven, by many other names it is what the Magnanimous in the Pride call the AfterLight. The home of the gods, and the King of the Gods, Lord Patronalus. Mitakahn knew for now his kingdom still needed him. He would love to travel. He even had thoughts to help Zora see what lies in the south and if it can be salvaged. He had a lot to get to, but first, he helped put his home back in order.


    The new King wasted no time in cleaning the streets and started reconstruction right away. Everyone supported King Axion, and his friends and family remained by his side to ensure the settlement of his new kingdom. It was not until after Zepathorum was cleared did they all begin to disperse and return to their own kingdoms. Commander Cel¡¯a rebuilt the royal guard slowly. It began with all of the surviving warriors from the last stand who wished to continue service for their kingdom. Over in Castle Rosi Island, Cipher and Mercinestor Casterosi founded the Order of the Imperators, a specific sect of the royal guard dedicated to guarding the crown from the world and the world from what¡¯s inside the ruby gem on the crown.


    The princes of the Steed Kingdom packed up from the Citadel. It was time for them to return to Metuchen. They would return to their family and their lord, King Avalahn. Anilithion looked forward to seeing his shores again. The princes all said goodbye to Queen Ady¨¢na and Eberlyn. Anilithy¨¬stad waited until last to say goodbye to his sister. He told her that if she ever needed anything, he would be there for her. Ady¨¢na thanked her brothers and her nephews for their support. And the Steed Kingdom left the Citadel.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Axion and Mitakahn escorted Jericho, Mortikahn, Paxikahn, Anilithion, and Anilithy¨¬stad to the beach of Lake Niobi. They would travel around the lake and down through the Jungle Thicket, a task Anilithy¨¬stad was known for. They would not risk returning to Metuchen by ship, for who knows what evil is still out on the Barren Sea.


    That and the pass between the Chasm and the Straits was seldom tried and only once successfully navigated by the Dark Fleet. Anilithy¨¬stad had much more confidence in the ancient jungle. It was time for his boys to learn the way. Watching them battle the juggernaut from the Citadel made it clear to Anilithy¨¬stad; they were the inheritors of destiny and MagnaThora. He had his time and his adventures.


    Axion bid farewell to his Uncle Anilithy¨¬stad first. ¡°Thank you for everything, Uncle,¡± said King Axion as he walked with him to his horse, ¡°Without you¡­I do not know what would have become of me¡­¡±


    ¡°You did your country well, Axion. For that, I am truly proud of you,¡± congratulated Anilithy¨¬stad, ¡°We all are. You will make a great king. And we shall always be here for you. Two kingdoms connected by blood hold an oath no stronger.¡±


    ¡°Ay, Uncle. Zepathorum will always be there for Metuchen.¡± The two shook hands and departed.


    Jericho polished off the new shine to his silver sword on his horse. He spent the nights in between now and the battle of Zepathorum branding a name onto the silver of his blade. It read, translated from shorelander native, ¡°Wolfsbane.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s some blade you found,¡± commented Mitakahn.


    ¡®Found?¡¯ thought Jericho, ¡°It was the blade that found me.¡±


    He showed the silver sword to his cousin as Axion approached them.


    ¡°Look Axion,¡± Mitakahn pointed out, ¡°It¡¯s pure silver.¡±


    ¡°¡­Wolfsbane¡± Repeated Axion as he read it aloud.


    ¡°I should feel so lucky to escape all this tragedy with a gift.¡±


    ¡°It was not luck, but fate¡­that helped us escape tragedy, Jericho,¡± declared Mitakahn.


    ¡°Good-bye, cousin¡± bid Axion.


    And Jericho left them saying, ¡°Good-bye, my friends.¡±


    Mitakahn moved onto his uncle Paxikahn. After shaking hands, Mitakahn told his uncle, ¡°To tell King Avalahn, thank you for his finest warriors, and their exceptional work.¡±


    Paxikahn and the rest of the princes bowed their heads at Mitakahn¡¯s words. ¡°The Pride shall always be in your debt,¡± he concluded.


    Paxikahn embraced Axion. ¡°Farewell, brave King,¡± he said before he got on his steed.


    ¡°Thank you, uncle¡± Axion had always admired his uncle Paxikahn. Paxikahn was young and only a child when Axion was born. They had long since forged a special bond. For Axion, the darkest of times always seemed a little bit brighter with his Uncle Paxikahn at his side.


    Mitakahn walked with Mortikahn. Mitakahn stood in silence, proud of his young cousin. He always knew Mortikahn would make a good warrior. Now, the suspicions had come true, and Mitakahn felt all the more validated. Mitakahn shook Mortikahn¡¯s hand and thanked him for his duty.


    Mortikahn answered, ¡°You walk amongst the Gods now, Mitakahn, and it is I that am thankful to have you. I feel a great era is on the horizon, and you will be the key to it all¡­¡±


    ¡°Let us hope that it is an era of peace and serenity. Good-bye, Mortikahn,¡± Mitakahn finished as he walked away.


    Axion grabbed his youngest of cousins and head-butted him, holding their heads together the King thanked Mortikahn, saying, ¡°We could not have done this without you, cousin. Know that in every step you take for the rest of your life.¡±


    Mortikahn hugged his oldest cousin, the king, and got on his horse. He turned around and bid farewell, saying, ¡°You know it hurts now¡­¡±


    Axion tried to make sense of what he was saying, as Mortikahn finished, ¡°when you head-butt with the crown.¡±


    Mitakahn reached Anilithy¨¬stad and Axion concluded with Anilithion. They embraced each other with thanks and compassion. Mitakahn looked to his uncle, ¡°I don¡¯t know how you do it.¡±


    Anilithy¨¬stad responded incredulously, ¡°How do I do what?¡±


    ¡°But one thing of all eluded me, one¡­mystery¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Anilithy¨¬stad asked.


    ¡°Why Anilithion?¡± asked Mitakahn, ¡°Why did you send Anilithion for me and not Mortikahn?¡± he expanded.


    Anilithy¨¬stad spent time thinking about it, but it was clear that he already knew the answer¡­ ¡°Because Anilithion would give his last piece of bread to somebody if they needed it.¡±


    Mitakahn continued the last of his farewells speechlessly, in deep thought over Anilithy¨¬stad¡¯s final words.


    Axion turned to Anilithion and simply said, ¡°Thank you for looking after my brother.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, King.¡±


    ¡°I know how trying it can be.¡±


    Anilithion laughed at this and shook his head, ¡°Mitakahn never led us astray. The entire time¡­he knew what to do and we did it.¡±


    ¡°He is a powerful being in this world-¡±


    ¡°But not nearly as powerful without you two,¡± interrupted Mitakahn as he caught up, throwing his arms over both of them.


    Anilithy¨¬stad and Anilithion were the last two to get on their horses and head down the shore. They joined the rest of their family and the cavalry that had survived and started their journey home to Metuchen Point.


    After that, Humbler, Kunezar, Bridger, and Tron left for the Epitaph Road. Mitakahn, Excelsior, and Orion said good-bye to their closest friends. Excelsior and Orion would stay but a little longer, being wanderers in nature, there was no rush for them to leave.


    They prepared for their departure in downtown Zepathorum, at the gates. After only a couple of days the gates of Zepathorum were clear, up and running again. The seven of them were all heavily responsible for said progress. They would not go by horseback but walk down the road. Mitakahn faced them, one by one, and said his good-byes.


    Mitakahn put his hand on Humbler¡¯s shoulder and shook his hand. ¡°You will always be the rock,¡± Mitakahn bowed. He went around to Kunezar, who was strapped to Humbler¡¯s back, the easiest way to get him home safely to the Komodo Maze.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what has happened to you, my friend.¡±


    ¡°This is not your fault, Mitakahn. I would have walked to the ends of MagnaThora with you.¡±


    Mitakahn choked back some tears at those words.


    ¡°I will walk again someday. My people may not have as many resources in the SandLands, but that has made us cunning. Whether it be by my own legs or some other machination¡­if you ever need me again. I will be ready.¡±


    ¡°You are the best friend a person could ask for, Kones. Take care of yourself.¡± Mitakahn put both his arms on his shoulders, ¡°I mean it. I will be around to check on you soon.¡±


    Humbler nodded at Mitakahn. The big softie became short on words when things got too emotional. Bridger stood out of the gates, staring out onto the road. Mitakahn walked up beside him, ¡°I owe you my life.¡±


    ¡°I might say the same about you. We all do. It was you that led the way.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but you all made it possible. Especially you, Bridger,¡± Mitakahn intended, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Finally, he walked over to Tron who stood waiting for him, ¡°You were right.¡±


    ¡°Right about what, prince?¡± Tron replied.


    ¡°What you said after the Funeral¡­we got through this. We did it.¡±


    The two shook hands and threw their other arms on each other¡¯s shoulders.


    ¡°I will miss you most of all, Tron,¡± Mitakahn said closely, ¡°You are a part of me, my brother.¡±


    ¡°All of you,¡± Mitakahn went on, ¡°You are all my brothers, and I can never thank you enough for rescuing me from the darkness.¡±


    They bowed their heads to Mitakahn, finished their good-byes with Excelsior and Orion, and departed for the Epitaph Road. Mitakahn waved goodbye to his friends as they left. They would walk together until they got to Epitaph City, where Bridger would go east, Tron would go south to Crucifire Plains, and Humbler carrying Kunezar would walk west until they reached the Komodo Maze.


    Excelsior and Orion stayed a while after that. The two helped Mitakahn and Axion adjust into their new roles and rebuild their kingdom. Then after one last day¡¯s hard work, without any warning, Excelsior and Orion parted ways with Mitakahn.


    As they left Mitakahn yelled to him, ¡°Where will you go?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, prince¡± Excelsior answered, ¡°I¡¯ll be around when you need me.¡±


    Mitakahn watched the last and the most zealous of his friends leave. Excelsior¡¯s drive was a core essential to the group, like Tron¡¯s heart, and Mitakahn¡¯s perspective. Even at the academy, he attempted feats that no one else would, or anyone else could even think of. And when Mitakahn needed him most, he was always there, a bottom line that mattered above all else. That was why he would be friends with these five for the rest of his life, his brothers in arms and warriors of virtue.


    Mitakahn returned to the Citadel to end the day. He passed one of the middle floors where his Aunt Agmaritha and mother were talking in a lounge, ¡°¡­All of my siblings, except Theo, were banished from the cities, which is why¡­¡±


    Mitakahn walked straight up the spiral staircase behind them only catching glimpses of their conversation, ¡°¡­The curse Benethor¡¯s brother still lives on today¡­¡±


    He kept moving up the Citadel to the Throne Room and walked in on Axion and Eberlyn planning their wedding. He did not interrupt them but stood beside the balcony, looking out onto Lake Niobi and the Serengeti.


    Mitakahn thought about many things: how the view was here, when they were battling the juggernaut, whether all of the shadow was entirely out of the Pride, how strong the Great Gate actually was, and whether it could withstand the evil that challenged them.


    Getting too caught up in his own paranoia, Mitakahn refocused his thoughts. He turned around and asked the King if there was anything left to do that day. King Axion rubbed his lightly bearded chin with the tip of the simmering FireSword in thought. After a long moment¡¯s deliberation, the King told his brother to take some time off, and spiritedly forced him out of the Throne Room strongly urging him to look for Zora.


    Out of the people who should have left already, Zora remained, helping with the reconstruction on Zepathorum. Her main focus was restoring the Gatehouse and the northern fields. The two places that her stardragons impacted most. She was living out her penance and repaying the city she damned, piece by piece, brick by brick.


    Zora was currently resting her hardworking dragon. Fathom spent most of his time reforging the crystal walls, providing a little more modern foundations against the highest of color temperatures. So, Zora helped out in the courtyard. Axion was convinced, he told his brother, that she did this in order to be in close proximity to Mitakahn. At the behest of Eberlyn, Axion urged Mitakahn to tell Zora how he felt about her.


    ¡°We can handle it from here,¡± Axion said, smiling, ¡°Go check on the courtyard.¡±


    Mitakahn normally would find himself going to the gardens to be with the lions, but Maximus was lost in battle and Gabriella has never returned. For the first time, in a very long time, the citadel gardens were devoid of lions. It pained Mitakahn to think about. He would wait for Gabriella to return home. So instead, he took his brother¡¯s advice and went to finally go speak with Zora. Mitakahn knew by doing so, somewhere, the Goddess Epiphany was smiling.

 Chapter 99 (of 100): Song of Solstice

    <h2>CHAPTER 99 - SONG OF SOLSTICE</h2>


    The sudden surge of energy wiped Epiphany clear of any prior intentions or convictions. She was floating through time and space at an incredible rate, grappling with her brother. He broke out of his gemstone just as crazy as she did. Quarrel clawed at her as she finally came to her senses and pulled them out of the eternity cascade. They crashed into the only place she could think of. The impact took out some of the roof of the Temple of Virtue. In the collision, Quarrel had finally lost his grip on Epiphany.


    The goddess tried to travel back to the battle, but it did not work. Her powers were malfunctioning. Something about that journey changed Epiphany. She braced herself for Quarrel¡¯s inevitable attack. He was the god of mischief, Chaos¡¯ favorite child. Epiphany knew he was waiting to get the drop on her. She tried to leave again. This time a small little tear in the atmosphere. She had to gather more energy. The goddess did not have time to rest and gather her strength. She had to think of something else, an alternative way to recharge.


    It was too late. Quarrel lunged from off the temple roof at Epiphany. She backed away and fell into the temple room with all of the paintings and relics. She smashed the ones she knew and when they broke they left a glimmering residue Epiphany absorbed. It would be enough. Epiphany made a short sword of light that quickly faded to a bleach silver. She battled back Quarrel¡¯s attacks.


    He kept trying to reach for the sword, to take it from her. Something about this made Epiphany remember her handsy youngest brother from ages ago, the first age. Epiphany knocked him back with a bump on the head with the pommel of the sword. Then she swept out his feet and drove the sword into his shoulder and the ground, pinning him down.


    Epiphany popped into the center of the room with her arms out reaching forth on both sides of her. The goddess shook as the walls shook. She meant to bring the entire temple down and possibly the entire cliffside.


    ¡°No!¡± Quarrel spat, ¡°Not like this!¡±


    He grabbed the silver sword pinning him down and within his grasp it turned into a puff of cloud. The cloud started the same color as the bleached silver blade but then it tainted black and became dense, oozing into his wound. He pulled a compass out from his vest pocket that pointed to numbers instead of north. He smashed it on the ground and then threw it towards Epiphany, but it stopped midair in between them and then launched a sphere all around, encapsulating them.


    In a flash the sphere was gone, and they were somewhere else entirely. Epiphany was still on the ground, elbowing back. Quarrel approached her with the stars behind him, except it wasn¡¯t night time and it wasn¡¯t earth¡¯s sky. Epiphany got herself up. The ground was a strange sort of stone, pale but not devoid of character. They were on the moon.


    Instantly, Epiphany knew what her younger brother was doing. He was trying to ascend to the heavens. Convinced, just like Epiphany, that their oldest brother, aside from the late Epitome and Plageus, Apophas was still alive and avoided enslavement from the Incapsulate Impernums. The third in line, and oldest surviving founder god, Apophas, Lord of apathy, created the animal demigods so he would not have to care and then he was convinced by Quarrel to complete the circle of withdrawal by condemning his own kin to the godstones.


    ¡°I see you have come to your senses. Must have been the journey here or perhaps the sudden realization that you could have died by my blade back there. You think I don¡¯t know what you are up to?¡±


    ¡°Spare me the lecture, sister. I¡¯m doing what I must to get home.¡±


    ¡°To get to him, you mean.¡±


    ¡°He owes me an explanation.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s even up there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, he is. I remember everything.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me exactly how you doomed us all!¡±


    ¡°I was going to trick everyone into using the orbs, but mine was reversible. He found out and we all the two of ours were switched last minute locking me away with the rest of you fools.¡±


    ¡°You mean to tell me he¡¯s been up there the whole time and let this evil infect our world?¡±


    ¡°You never cared before. Yes, I''m remembering now. What¡¯s changed?¡±


    ¡°I stopped trying to bring back Epitome for MagnaThora and started doing what Epitome would want best for MagnaThora.¡±


    ¡°How wise and noble of you! Now, if you will excuse me, I intend to speak with our dear brother briefly before killing him, of course.¡±


    ¡°Then you won¡¯t mind if I join you. I¡¯ve got my own questions.¡± And there is no way I''m letting you do that.


    ¡°By all means, sister. After you.¡±


    Epiphany managed to give him a fleeting curl of the corner of her lip that resembled a smile. There was no denying the fact that this was the biggest lead she would get towards finding her remaining brothers and sisters, working with the perpetrators. Quarrel wasn¡¯t kidding either. The whole point in making a stop at the moon was because going straight from MagnaThora to Legacy City would tear any being to shreds.


    They were moved out from the dark side of the moon and into the light of the sun. The pure light ignited their skin, but not in fire. Their souls lit within them, shining, begging to get out. Epiphany and Quarrel held hands and braced themselves. The ancient parts of them, the essence that lived before MagnaThora itself, responded to the direct light of the sun and just like the souls drawn to the AfterLight, so were the two founder gods.


    A few moments more of holding onto their physical bodies and they would be through the passing. Epiphany wanted to let go, partly because it was so painful, and not really necessary, but also because this was basically a one¨Cway trip. She could not protect MagnaThora if she could not be there to protect it. Epiphany would not consent into the same position as Apophas.


    The cosmic threshold reached into the very fabric of reality and tried to tear away at her. Picture invisible hands coming up and all around your vision trying to tug away at it in all the various directions. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Part of Epiphany missed this feeling. That part of her that wanted to leave her humanity behind, fully embracing the unknown. Their makers made them in the image of humans and so their fates were ever tied together.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Epiphany and Quarrel practically shed their mortal coils on their approach to Legacy City. The luminescent gates opened, their entrance accepted. The flight to the Ascendant Realm was complete. Upon the throne of everlasting glory there was a standoff. Apophas sat as the last founder god, begrudgingly defending his claim over MagnaThora, albeit a policy of noninterference. The challenger was none other than Patronalus, his blonde hair wisping idly in the windless space. But he stood alone, without the rest of the Ascendant Gods.


    It was Patronalus¡¯ time to rule the realms. The only problem was there being nothing he could do to usurp Apophas without compromising his own claim. He went as far as to hide his firesword back on MagnaThora to find worthy reinforcements. Patronalus fulfilled the covenants and patiently waited to take his rightful place in legend. To his utter surprise, instead of Axion, who he felt the earthly connection to as soon as he lit the blade on the battlegrounds of Zepathorum, in walked two of Apophas¡¯ very own siblings and equals. This might tip the odds in his favor, hopefully.


    Quarrel did not hesitate upon entry of Legacy City. He lunged for Apophas on the OmniThrone. Patronalus saw death in his eyes and felt compelled to intervene. Against all of his instinct he got in between them and held Quarrel back. He should do nothing because that is exactly what Apophas deserved after how he treated MagnaThora. But that was just not Patronalus'' way. He had an unbreakable sense of right and wrong.


    Now Patronalus, the reluctant replacement turned bodyguard actively protected the would-be-king. Epiphany joined Patronalus in between Quarrel and Apophas, who remained true to his name and ignored them, his eyes fixed upon MagnaThora and the world before him, with the darkness of the cosmos as a back drop.


    Quarrel backed off for a second and released from the grapple with the gods. He addressed them as equals.


    ¡°You have no idea how long I have plotted my revenge. Either step aside now or I will go through you with both ease and pleasure.¡±


    Epiphany pleaded with her brother. ¡°Please, Quarrel, we have lost so much already. If you do this¡­ It will surely bring about the Age of Solstice, after the acts of the Dark Lord Malinor. We are lucky it isn¡¯t upon us already. I think its because Malinor didn¡¯t destroy the god forces but transferred the power to himself. If one more god is taken off the board we risk everything. I beg you, put aside your grudge, for now, or seek retribution in a form other than death.¡±


    ¡°You make a valid argument, sister. I shall concede.¡±


    ¡°I know your tricks, Quarrel. As soon as we lower our defenses you will go for the killing stroke.¡±


    Quarrel¡¯s toothy grin said more than any words could capture.


    ¡°Then it appears we are at an impasse.¡±


    ¡°I should hope-¡±


    Quarrel¡¯s knee went into Epiphany¡¯s gut while he tried to punch Patronalus. His fist was deflected but he went with the redirection and elbowed Epiphany down on the back. She was already keeled over from the gut punch. Epiphany dropped harder than a sack of gold. Quarrel pulled a spear out of his other palm and attacked Patronalus. The trickster god knew the fire hero had given his power away and now lived in limbo between Paragon and God King, rendering him weaponless.


    Patronalus braced for an attack and a bird flew up to his arm and latched onto his forearm, locking its silver wings in place like a shield. The hawk didn¡¯t flinch when its metal hide clashed effortlessly with the spear-strike. Patronalus kept the trickster god at bay, stalling for time so Epiphany could recover.


    Quarrel stopped attacking and walked away, pacing. This did not bode well. Patronalus braced himself. The trickster god teleported. And Patronalus knew exactly where he was going. Before he finished turning around Quarrel was behind him in a killing stroke. There was no way Patronalus could swing the shield around in time.


    The wings on the shield unlocked and flapped. In that moment, Patronalus didn¡¯t know if the bird was speeding them up or slowing time down around them. Perhaps it was both. Patronalus dodged the strike. The only problem was, that¡¯s exactly what Quarrel wanted him to do.


    Apophas watched his fair MagnaThora, a center continent sitting amongst a spiral of barrier islands, all of which surrounded by the only other continent on the planet, Terra Massa. The only city visible from this far away was Crucifire Plains, except for one other building in all of MagnaThora, the citadel at Zepathorum City still smoldering after all the carnage. The gods fought behind him, and he cared not.


    The spear clashed away from the swinging shield, as the movement from the hawk¡¯s silver wings switched both of their positions. Quarrel leaned into it like he was water dancing. In that stride he released two throwing daggers towards the throne. The first one cut through the throne and stabbed Apophas in the back. The throne caused enough resistance to stop the dagger at merely a flesh wound. Unfortunately, the other dagger sailed past the throne and there was nothing to stop it from flying right into the back of Apophas¡¯ head. It broke his skull and impaled his eye, pointy end now sticking out of his head.


    Epiphany got to her feet to see Patronalus frozen in terror. She followed his line of sight and saw it for herself. Apophas fell off the throne but caught himself before hitting the floor. He stumbled around and toward them, dazed. Dealing with some shock, himself. To Epiphany''s utter bewilderment, Apophas acted as though he thought they would never actually go through with it, like he was untouchable. Pure hubris.


    He pulled the dagger out of his back and tossed it on the floor. He pulled the other out of his eye. Quarrel snapped his fingers and the dagger exploded in lightning bolts, blinding, and burning his face.


    Quarrel laughed. And that set Apophas off.


    ¡°You always underestimated me you impudent little worm and now it will be your undoing.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve always bored me!¡± Quarrel hissed back.


    Before the trickster god could do anything else, even throw another perfectly timed insult, Apophas was on him. They wrestled for a brief second before Quarrel maneuvered his thumb into Apophas¡¯ only remaining eye.


    The would-be-king cried out so loud it shook the foundations of Legacy City. He let go of Quarrel as if free himself from all burden and then pulled forth an unknown force around them with his arms on both sides of him. Suddenly the two of them were jerked out of the city and lunged at ludicrous speed toward the sun.


    ¡°This is insane. You¡¯ll kill us both! Listen to reason you fool!¡±


    ¡°You took away the only thing I cared about and that has driven me to action, and in doing so I relinquish my rule, my right, and my life to finally see you get what you deserve.¡±


    ¡°And in doing so doomed us all," said Epiphany, as she watched her brothers burn up in the celestial fires of the sun.


    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen now?¡± Patronalus asked.


    Epiphany flinched. For a second she had forgotten he was there. So young compared to her. A human made god, in bright contrast to her, a god made human, or at least made to look human. Long had he awaited this day and long had humanity deserved it. But at what cost?


    Epiphany took a deep breath and turned around, presenting Patronalus the OmniThrone. He slowly emerged and sat, first uncomfortable in his new position, then slowly he settled in. Epiphany put her hand on his shoulder. The sensation immediately gripped her, nearly bringing her to tears. Was it hope? It was the first time she felt like this since losing Epitome. Perhaps a part of him still lived on in Patronalus and she loved that.


    ¡°My brave king, fear not. Now, you take your rightful place as the King of the Gods, and I will be by your side as we guide humanity through the horrors of the Solstice Age."


    "And if we fail to protect them?"


    "If we fail everything we know will fall to endless darkness.¡±

 Chapter 100: The Lost Litter

    <h2>CHAPTER 100 - THE LOST LITTER</h2>


    The lioness would neither see the end of the battle nor a happy ending. She had flown the berserker above the dark clouds of Zepathorum, obliterating it in the sun; and it had slashed Gabriella in the gut during the struggle. The lioness was dying, but inside of her was new light, new life.


    Like the golden rays from the sun and the infinite blue of the sky, the golden-bluish shine of the wings blossomed as they spun, smuggling the lion away. At this point, they looked more like the petals of a flower than wings, constantly turning, splitting, morphing. Gabriella was losing blood fast from her wound which appeared to be infected with the shadow rot, also known as algae plague, and necrotica.


    In the fight with the berserker, she used the essence of Magnanimous to grow abnormally large. Now, she was shrinking back down to normal size, but not her belly. Underneath the infected gash the beserker left behind, her womb had grown to full term. Gabriella roared out. She cried for Mitakahn. To see him one last time. The only thing she cared about besides living.


    The lioness roared out and the cocoon of light closed around the litter of kittens birthing forth. The last lion cub out slipped through the last crack in the cocoon and fell into a wisp of cirrus clouds. A portion of the wing¡¯s light shot out after it, but the coccoon kept moving upward, as if it had a specific destination.


    Three lion cubs were left in the cocoon with the dying lioness. She looked over at them. Two were pure black. The infection of her wound had tainted them. The cocoon shook, sensing the same thing. The light wings released the black cubs to plummet through the air. All that was left was the remaining cub. It was a female, another lioness.


    Gabriella tried to look at the kitten, unable to move much anymore. The black from the wound had reached the veins on her neck, rendering her paralyzed. Once the shadow entered her eyes it would be over. The baby lioness got to her feet, standing on the cocoon of light.


    She walked over to her mother, as they flew high into the sky, ever increasing in altitude. The little lioness rubbed her nose on Gabriella¡¯s. Instead of waiting for a kiss, the lion cub licked her mother¡¯s nose. Gabriella closed her eyes. She no longer missed her prince. She imprinted upon the young lioness an image and scent of Mitakahn and one final sense before dying, a message. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Find him.¡±


    The shadow finally reached Gabriella¡¯s eyes, but she was at peace and the godforce was gone, redistributed through the four cubs. From the lioness¡¯ eyes the shadow struck straight for her heart and stopped it. The coccoon disappeared and the last of the shadow plummeted back down to MagnaThora in the corpse of the lioness, burning up before ever reaching the ground.


    That left the lioness cub. With what little light she had left she struggled not to nosedive along with her fallen mother. There was little hope for the baby lioness if not for intervention. Luckily, Chronis, the silver-tailed hawk swooped in with impeccable timing, and snatched the lion cub from danger, flying her to Legacy City. Where the cocoon was headed all along.


    When they reached the ascended realm, Chronis could tell something was wrong. There on the ankle of the lion cub¡¯s left heind leg was a black stripe. The shadow had gotten this cub too. Without hesitation, Chronis ejected a couple of his feathers and bonded them to the baby lioness. By introducing his own magic to the cub, it would not only counter the dark magic but overwhelm it, keeping it at bay forever. Together, the silver feathers and the black shadow had an unusual effect on her golden fur.


    The lioness looked other-worldy. Her fur now had the shine of metal to it and splashed effortlessly from gold to bronze, to silver, to black. For example, her eyes were surrounded by black fur, feline eyeliner. As for the rest of her coat, when she moved it looked like oil and vinegar dancing in a bottle, like different color sands pouring through the hour glass, mixing together. Her fur was an enigma, her color and pattern was a ripple of nature¡¯s purest essence, a true representation of the wild.


    Chronis stared at the Ripple as the shine of her tapestry of fur changed according to her movement and knew she was something special. She would be the bridge between worlds and Mitakahn¡¯s chariot to the ascended realm. Every time her feet padded the floor it moved the stripes of gold, silver, and black across her back in unpredictable ways. Truly a sight to behold. Like a tiny lion made of bronze and chrome.


    As soon as The Ripple was old enough it would go out in search for the prince. No, not for the prince her mother told her about. The prince of the royal lions, the prince of the Pride. The cub was still out there. The one that slipped through the wings of the cocoon. The only cub to have escaped the dark touch.


    The young lioness knew her brother had the same light inside of her. He would not go down without a fight and most important of all, he was the true heir of Magnanimous. Fate would not let him fall so easily, not on MagnaThora. The Ripple would not rest until she found the lost cloud lion cub and reunite them with the Pride of Zepathorum.


    End of Part Seven


    .

 Epilogue: Scourge of the Nether Realm

    <h2>EPILOGUE - SCOURGE OF THE NETHER REALM</h2>


    Human minds are so fragile.


    This was a truth that would persist throughout their history, no matter how advanced their kind became. The idea of the Supreme Dichotomy had always troubled humans. Most commonly you would get the basic connection between Cosmos and Chaos, the light, and the darkness, but that''s where it stopped.


    People find it hard to understand that the Supreme Dichotomy is about opposing and attracting forces. Complimentary forces.


    Cosmos, fate, oblivion.


    Chaos, luck, nature.


    Black and white yes, but there were subtleties to the supreme being. The higher a being ascended the more they comprehended the meaning of it all, and the truth behind the Supreme Dichotomy. There was always another before that needed explaining.


    The deaths of Apophas and Quarrel loosened the intrinsic balance of MagnaThora, blurring the boundaries between realms. A rupture outside the Komodo Maze created an opportunity for two Founder gods to escape the Nether Realm. Kinsey and Nero spilled out of the rupture before it resealed itself. The fluctuations between realms receded for the time being.


    The two primal primes were exhausted, both of them lying in the sand. They hadn¡¯t been tortured in the technical sense, but they were stuck in an endlessly noisy darkness that never let up and was always cold. The void could break the strongest of beings. It never broke Kinsey, the goddess of sacrifice and the hunt. It only made her stronger. She allowed the darkness to shape her in its image. Kinsey sacrificed herself to the shadow in order to survive and now she was free.


    Nero, the god of exchange and currency, got up and brushed the sand off his pants. The sun didn¡¯t seem to beat down upon him like anyone else stuck in the desert. His skin was ridiculously tan and his hair golden blonde, sitting wild on his squarish head. He smiled at Kinsey and reached out to give her a hand.


    ¡°Looks like we got lucky, sister. Quarrel be damned."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He lifted her up and to her feet. Nero kept smiling. Kinsey didn¡¯t smile back. Not exactly odd behavior for her, if he could remember correctly, but still¡­something was off. Nero wasn¡¯t just the god of trade and money. He was also the god of awareness.


    Unfortunately for Nero, his keen suspicions always proved true. Kinsey dug her hand into his chest until she reached his heart. Her eyes glowed red and her dirty brown hair turned black as night from roots to tips. Nero couldn''t move. The sensation of someone holding your heart was petrifying. One false move and he was dead, even as a god. Life was fragile in all it''s forms.


    Kinsey¡¯s arm swelled with darkness, mutating her hand into a claw. As her nails grew into sharp claws her grip on his heart tighten and Nero stopped breathing. As a god he didn¡¯t necessarily have to breathe but it sure did feel nice. She squeezed his heart and collapsed an atrium. Feeling some of the life leave her brother''s spirit made Kinsey¡¯s black pupils burst, breaking her bright red irises. Her eyes flooded with darkness, and she ripped his heart out completely.


    He whimpered out like a dying faun, ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to finish what was started. I''m the god of sacrifice. You''re the god of exchange. Consider your sacrifice a worthy exchange. I will use this force in ways you never conceived of. Its wasted on you. No one will mourn your death, brother. I''m doing you a favor, releasing you from this twisted world and giving your plight significance.¡±


    She finished consuming his essence like a shadow beast. Kinsey wanted to think she was not being herself. That the dark powers brainwashed her and turned her against her brother. The truth was¡­ even before the Incapsulate Impernums she always thought about taking Nero¡¯s powers. He was lazy and could not handle the responsibility. It was better this way.


    There was no self-deception available, her instincts and intentions aligned with the nefarious forces that recruited and empowered her. She was an agent of entropy now. It started with her unsuspecting brother. Next would be the destruction of unsuspecting MagnaThora.


    Kinsey would no longer go by her given name. No, that was what she used to be. Now she was something else, something different, something new, something more. She was now the Witch Queen Ore Ny Eska. She would stop at nothing in bringing MagnaThora down.


    Like a tide to the shore, she was drawn to one of the only remaining beacons of darkness. The rock in which she would build her apocalyptic empire... the Cor Incapsulate, resting unsuspectingly on King Axion''s crown.


    <h2 style="text-align: center">The End</h2>


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