Heir to the Sundered Crown (34 page)

Luxon dropped his head. He had been nothing but a pawn. He knotted his hand into fists. Anger built inside of him. He couldn’t let Danon escape. He had to try and stop him.  

“Does Umbaroth know what you are?” he asked. He had to buy some time. His eyes darted around the room desperately trying to seek out something he could use as a weapon.

Danon laughed wickedly.

“The King of Dragons? No he does not know. I needed him on side. By gaining his trust I was able to learn of the other dragons and over the centuries I claimed them one by one without his knowledge. Do not fear Luxon, now that I have you, the dragon will share your fate. I will need every scrap of power I can muster to open a way back home big enough.”

“Big enough for what?” Luxon replied. If he could keep Danon talking perhaps he had a chance. He slowly began inching backwards. He had to escape.

“To bring the void to Delfinnia of course! I will be master of all worlds, all plains of existence. Darkness will rule and my brother, Niveren’s failure will be complete,” Danon boasted.

Luxon’s blood ran cold. He imagined hordes of pucks, banshees, goblins, all the nightmarish creatures of the void unleashed upon the kingdom. It wouldn’t stand a chance

He stopped. He couldn’t let the monster before him fulfil his plans.

“I will stop you,” Luxon growled. He knotted his hands into fists and narrowed his eyes. He focused until he could feel the magic stirring within him.

Danon laughed dismissively.

Luxon raised his arms focusing on the corpse of Vectrix. With all of his power the body began to shudder. With a deafening screech the god’s body lifted from its seat like some ghastly puppet.

Danon stopped smiling. His face twisting in rage. He spun just as the heavily armoured Vectrix was pulled from his throne. The god seemed as though it were alive as it towered over them both.

With a yell Luxon pulled his arms backwards, the telekinetic link with the corpse shifted. With a rumble Vectrix fell forward.

Danon screamed as the behemoth fell towards him. Luxon released his spell to allow gravity to do the rest; he didn’t wait to see the affects. He was already running towards the exit of the tower.

He slowed and then stopped. There had been no sound of the corpse striking the ground. His heart raced. A sinister cackling came from behind him. Slowly he turned to find Danon standing tall one hand held aloft, the massive corpse resting casually upon it.

“Really? I, who have existed since the dawn of time and been the master of the world, you really think you can best me with a cheap trick like that?” Danon said threateningly. “I could best you with my little finger you fool.”

Danon raised his other hand and pointed it at Luxon. With a cry he was lifted off of his feet and sent flying back towards the dark wizard.

He crashed to the ground to slide to a halt at Damon’s feet.

“Ah, I do so love it when people are on their knees. Soon the whole world will be.”

As though he weighed nothing Luxon was hauled into the air. With his magic Danon had him floating, unable to move.

*

Luxon tried to fight, but he couldn’t move. Danon’s magic was too strong. Now he found himself at the top of Danon’s tower. The view was spectacular, the vast plains and tumultuous purple sky spread out for as far as the eye could see. The jagged spires of the tower stood tall and dangerous giving him a renewed sense of dread.

Danon stood in the centre, his arms held high and wide. Luxon felt his bowels loosen as Danon emitted a terrifying roar. Soon the sound of flapping leather wings approached. For a moment Luxon hoped that Umbaroth would come to his rescue.

Those hopes were dashed when four dragons flew into view. The dragons were nothing like Umbaroth. Whereas he had a look of nobility these looked sinister. Their scales were blackened, some had large scars running down their bodies, others had scales missing and one even had an eye missing.

“Finally the time has come my pets. We will return to our rightful homes. You will fly the blue skies and all men will run in terror from your flames,” Danon cried.

The dragons flew in a circle above the tower hissing their delight that freedom was so close.

Danon knelt over Luxon, a wicked smile on his nightmarish features. Luxon tried to move but the spell he was under was too strong.

Danon placed a hand upon Luxon’s head.

A searing pain lanced through Luxon’s body causing him to scream out in agony, his body twisted and contorted. His skin felt like lava and his veins felt as if they were being sucked dry. A bright light began to shine around Danon’s hands. He looked to the sky to where the dragons flew. With his spare hand he thrust it towards them. Light began to emanate from the dragons until they too roared in agony. Danon was draining them of their power as well.

The light grew in intensity as the power was absorbed by Danon. Luxon had to shut his eyes as it became too bright to look upon.

The sound became deafening, the dragons roars mixed with Luxon’s own cries and the roar of energy. The tower itself began to shake until a loud cracking sound could be heard over the other din. Luxon opened an eye to see a large crack shooting up the tower, even the ground far below was splitting apart.

“Free at last!” Danon cried.

He raised his hands skyward once more. The sky itself ripped apart. Luxon cried out as he could see his homeland through the tear. The green grass of the Bison plains, the high towers of Sunguard, the crystalline walls of Caldaria all was flashed into view.

Then a city aflame and under siege appeared through the tear.

Danon smiled. With a shout he summoned one of the dragons to him. The black scaled beast broke free of the swirling energy to land with a thud onto the tower which swayed and rocked dangerously under the extra weight. With horror Luxon realised that the structure was on the verge of collapse. He had to escape.

Danon leapt onto the dragons back. He threw a look at Luxon.

“I must thank you Luxon. You’ve set me free...and now I will kill everyone you know and love,” Danon laughed. With a mocking salute he kicked his heels into the dragons flank. The beast flapped its huge wings and with a roar shot off into the sky.

Luxon gasped as the invisible grip that had held him down vanished.

Slowly Luxon sat up; the world swam before him, his body felt numb.

He shielded his eyes as with a blinding flash Danon and the dragons vanished through the swirling portal above him.

Lightning lanced out as the Void itself appeared to tear itself apart. Luxon got to his feet but was sent sprawling again as the tower began to collapse.

Instinctively he cupped his hands around his mouth. Using what magic he had left within him he shouted.

“UMBAROTH SUMMONI”

With the last of his magic spent the world went black. The last thing he remembered was the roar of the collapsing tower and the sensation of tumbling to his doom.

***

40.

Yepert threw himself to the ground. His face was red and flustered; his breath’s coming in gasps. Around him a hundred black garbed figures went prone as well. In front of him, and also on his stomach was Ferran who raised a fist into the air before pointing to the right. A group of a dozen of the figures sprung to their feet before quietly scurrying off through the undergrowth.

“What is it?” Yepert asked quietly. He looked to the sky to see the twinkling of the stars and the brilliance of the moons.

Ferran turned his white teeth visible in the darkness.

“We’re close. Are you ready?” the Nightblade replied.

Yepert nodded in the affirmative gritting his teeth in determination. He wasn’t going to let himself or his friends down.

After departing from Kaiden and Sophia, Ferran and Yepert had travelled back to Caldaria. The journey had taken less than half the time that a normal traveller would have taken as the Nightblade used paths long hidden or forgotten by most folk.

In less than three days they had arrived, but no rest was to be found. Immediately upon their arrival Ferran had demanded an audience with Grandmaster Thanos and the other mages. After a heated debate the mages had agreed to finally choose a side. Now a hundred Nightblades were creeping through the mountain wood towards the city of Eclin. Not far behind them was a small contingent of volunteer mages.

Not since the days of Aljeron had such a large number of Nightblades acted in consort. Yepert was excited to see what they would be capable of. Despite Ferran’s concerns Yepert had insisted on coming with the Nightblades. He was eager to avenge his lost friend and get a little payback on Rason.

Yepert flinched as a mighty boom came from somewhere ahead. A series of smaller bangs and twangs followed.

A few moments later the small group Ferran had ordered ahead returned.

“We crept up to the edge of the forest. Between us and the city is a legion. Those sounds were their siege weapons being fired. The main gate of the city seems to be holding, but a few more volleys and it will be turned into splinters,” the lead Nightblade said in hushed tones. He pulled down his hood. Yepert smiled as he recognised Welsly.

“You did well Welsly,” Ferran said patting his fellow Nightblade on the shoulder.

“There’s more...’ Welsly hesitated, ‘something is happening in the sky. Where the un-dead horde is amassed...I have never seen anything like it. It looks as though the sky itself is being pulled apart.  It is a magic the likes of which I have never seen before,”

Ferran frowned at the revelation. Something else was occurring in Eclin. The witch wasn’t just there for the Heir. He chewed his lip in thought.

“We have to take out those siege weapons. If we can, then we can buy the cities defenders more time,” Welsly whispered.

“Time for what? The un-dead will breach the walls before long. We have to get inside the city, find the heir and get him out alive. Even we Nightblades won’t be able to take on the witch, the legion and whatever else is against us,” Ferran replied stroking his trimmed beard.

“We have to try,” Yepert chimed in. Welsly smiled at him.

“Yepert is right. If the Heir is lost then all hope is lost. We must try,” Welsly implored.

Ferran’s frown turned into a roguish grin.

He stood and drew his Tourmaline blade willing it to life with magic. All around the other Nightblades rose and ignited their blades.

“Well then if you put it that way. Let’s have at them!” He shouted as he began to run through the trees towards the waiting enemy.

*

“Brace!” roared Woven as he joined the other rangers in throwing their weight against the city gate. A few seconds later they were sent flying backwards as a heavy boulder launched by a legion catapult smashed into it. Splinters flew outwards cutting down a number of the defenders, their screams adding to the din of the battle raging all around them.

As soon as the legion had begun firing the horde had launched a full scale assault against the walls. Werewolves, zombies and ghouls were pouring over the walls. The knights of Niveren and soldiers of Eclin were fighting bravely but were quickly being overrun.

Men wearing the white mantle of Niveren lay dead alongside those in the blue of Eclin, their spilt blood joining them as brothers in the afterlife.

Woven staggered to his feet his head ringing from the impact. All around was fire and death. The city was burning. An incendiary round from a legion catapult had struck one of the city’s many thatched roofed buildings and the blaze had quickly turned into an inferno that threatened to devour them all. Smoke swirled, blinding and choking the defenders.

He looked to the walls to see Master Thondril and a dozen knights desperately trying to prevent ghouls from climbing over the crenulations. Their silver swords were having little effect against the un-dead monsters. Only fire seemed to be effective.

“Sir!” cried a ranger. Woven looked up to see the man waving frantically to get his attention. “There’s something in the forest to the south,” the ranger cried in panic. The man was covered in blood and dirt. Woven noticed that his arm hung loosely at his side, no doubt broken by the siege weapons impact.

Woven shook his head to try and clear it. He ordered his men to once again brace the gate before staggering through an archway and up a flight of stone steps which led to the top of the wall.

Once at the top of the wall he gasped as he saw dozens of light sources moving quickly through the nearby woods. He narrowed his eyes and could make that the shapes were people clad in black.

“Nightblades...it can’t be...” he muttered to himself a sense of hope springing in his heart. His guess was realised when the first figures leapt from the trees to fall upon the rear of the attacking legion. Tourmaline blades swung, cutting down a number of legionaries.

“Get to the walls and help the knights,” Woven yelled at his men. The legion would be kept busy by the Nightblades and now he could free his men to aid the beleaguered defenders on the wall.

The rangers and Eclin soldiers under his command ran toward the walls a sense of renewed determination in their ranks. Help had arrived, not all was lost.

*

Ferran ducked under the steel sword of a legionnaire and lashed out with his own. The magic blade punched deep in the man’s armour to lodge into his heart. All around him his fellow Nightblades were taking the fight to the legion. He frowned as he pulled his sword from the dead man’s chest. The soldier hadn’t screamed in pain, in fact none of the legionaries were making any noise at all. They fought but they did so in an eerie silence.

Another legionary ran towards him. Ferran stepped backwards lithely bringing his blade down to parry his attackers. Again the man attacking him did so in silence, a blank expression on his face. He dodged another attack. He raised his spare hand, sending the legionary sprawling with a blast of telekinesis. He followed through by kicking the dazed legionary’s weapon out of his grasp and pulled off his helmet.