A Time for Revenge

Mach stared out onto the open sea from the tallest hill that he could find near camp. The suns were setting in spectacular beauty as though they were giving him one last send off before his end. The feeling was ominous but he was not going to let it affect him. He could see no signs of his home from here, not that he expected to be able to. But to see it one last time would have been nice.

The day itself had been warm but as the rays of the last sun shined upon his face he could not feel the warmth of it. It was as though, despite its glory in the sky and its attempt to calm him, he could not find comfort within it. So many things had happened in such a short time. So many trials had been overcome and if they survived this, there would be stories and songs sung about it in taverns and great halls. However, none of that mattered in this moment.

He thought back to the days when he and his mother would spend the later afternoon staring off at the sunsets, waiting for his father to return. Days when he and his father would sit at the piers and watch the suns set, never needing to talk. From the coldest of winters to the hottest of summers, the suns always gave him a warm feeling of promise. A promise that the next day would be brighter.

Even after his father’s death, all those years that he spent taking care of his mother. The suns had always carried that promise every day just before night, telling him that the next day would bring something better. Where had that warmth gone now? He did not remember when or where it had vanished from him, but as he stood there watching the last sun set he knew that it had fled far away in darkness. There were no more promises of better days because tomorrow may be their last. Tomorrow may be his last.

A tear swelled in his eyes, threatening to overcome his control. He forced it back along with the feelings it brought with it. He had to remain in control right now. There was too much at stake for him to allow his emotions to get the better of him. Every man, woman and being that followed under his command right now was relying on him to guide them through tomorrow and the day after. He would not let them down by showing his weakness, not right now. The tears and grief would have to wait until after they were done and only then would he allow these tears to fall. That is if he survived.

The fire of his rage burned deep within, bubbling up from below to replace his grief. He would need to kill without mercy, take the lives of others in order to achieve his goal of ending Rubious’ life. That alone enraged him beyond anything. Two years ago he would have gone white as a sheet for just thinking of the idea that he had to take the life of another person. But here he was on the brink of possibly killing hundreds without remorse. He will pay for that as well.

He had been turned into a man that had to weigh everything that he did. He had faced things that most men never had to. He could no longer hold onto the dreams of a child and pretend that he could end this without the resulting loss of life. It was impossible. He had to be the King he was crowned as. Heartless at times, yes, strict even if it came down to it. He had to do what was needed for the safety of his people and the people who were relying on his strength. His compassion and Empathy for the well being of life itself is what caused others to follow him the way they did. At least he was able to hold onto some of his dreams.

But even with that small comfort, he would no longer be able to live his life the way he had once thought. He knew that even if he survived this, there would be much more that he had to do. Things that would be far more dangerous. But at least if I survive, I will have time to prepare for it. He smiled ruefully at the thought. If he survived. That was the question of the night. Would they survive? Would any of them survive tomorrow or the day after?

Their numbers were impressive, surely. They had the heart and soul of an army willing to protect each other come hell or high water. But would that be enough when it came to fighting against Rubious’ army. They had an idea of how large that army is and how strong the soldiers were going to be. What they did not know was what kind of training those fighters had received. It could be that they all had the basic hack and slash training most grunts get in basic infantry. If that was the case, then the battle should be won easily. The allied army was trained well to combat quite a few different styles of warfare. But if Rubious has taught them something new, or given them some kind of ability that is beyond what any of them knew or could comprehend. Then this battle may be quicker than they had hoped or feared it would be.

He turned around to the valley that rested between the hills that held his army. Although the Hermans and the Dragons had mostly taken up positions out the outer edge of the encampment, he was overjoyed to see that there was no separation between the groups.

No one had advised it or ordered it to be this way. The men and women who had unloaded their provisions had set their own gear in the way they felt it should be. And the outcome of years of work by people like Mendoll and his father was evident as he looked at the sight below. More proof that the barriers of the old Kingdoms, that had been so divided for centuries, were shattering and in its place was something to be prideful of. There was no segregation of groups, Mages were set up near Knights of Sedan, who were mixed with fighters from Sirunre where Guards of Eldour and Scouts of Madtu and the Gargoyles that had been called from Bastra’s hometown were spotted scattered throughout. No one set their gear up separated from any particular group. They were all one people.

They were all working together in more ways than this. Before they had left Gehnith, as they were preparing for this battle, he had asked the Mages to create whatever defenses could be crafted by use of crystals. Certain crystals could be infused with Power and set with a single spell that could be activated instantly, pulling Power from the crystal instead of the Mage. This would enable the Mages to cast more Spells than they would have been able to before. He had left the decision of what kind of spells up to the Mages themselves. As word got around that the Mages were in the process of setting spells that would inevitably protect the army as a whole, the other factions of the army came in to take certain chores and workloads off of the Mages duty roster.

He had been present when such group came in. That particular day he had been checking on the manifest of readied ships when a group of men from Islat came in, arms loaded with sacks of fruit and cured meats. They left explicit instructions that the sacks were for the Mages working on the crystal project and for any duties that the Mages had that were not Mage skill required to be sent to the barracks. That set in motion a chain of events that lead to several more groups, including a group of Hermans who offered their time and services, to take the pressure off of what may be a life saving task. All of the differences that were disappearing and what was being left behind was respect. Exactly the way it should be. We are all one people in this. It is with hope that we will become one true Empire.

He strolled down the hill, walking by a group of guards on the lookout as he moved toward the camp. The chill of the coming night air felt harsh as he heaved a sigh of regret. Although there were plenty of ways that things were changing openly, this world was changing for the better in ways that he still could not explain.

There had also been a price to pay far too heavy in his opinion. He did not think it was a price worth paying, that is if he had a choice. But those that he lost were already gone, the damage was already done. The best that he could do was accept the fact that life was what it was and move forward.

The stars above twinkled blurredly bright as he allowed the tears to fill his eyes now that darkness was enveloping the night. For far too long he had ran away, tried to allow others to take control. Even when he had accepted his role as King of Mages, he still tried to have others take control of everything that he could push on them. He had done it under the guise of not wanting to overstep his bounds as the leader of another group of people. But all this time he had just been hiding like a child. He had still been that frightened little boy running away from the explosions that were destroying his home. Tomorrow, or the day after depending on when it happened, he would stand upon that field and face Rubious as a man. Just like his father had been when he had died. His father had faced a beast to protect those that he cared about and he would do the same. I just hope my heart is as strong as yours was, dad.

He reached his own tent and entered it with a second glance behind him. He stood there for a few moments, allowing the tears to fall freely. His father had always told him that only the bravest men are not afraid to allow their tears to fall for those loved ones they have lost. He was not exactly brave, nor did he care whether people thought of him as a brave man. He would allow his tears to flow in hiding for now until this was over. I would only hide them until this is over. He promised himself.

Finally he moved to his sleep wrap, laid down and curled up under its warmth. The next day would bring plenty more trials and he needed to be ready for them. They were as prepared as they were ever going to be and given what he had seen from Rubious, if they did not lure him out now, they would never be able to overcome his might. If only he could think of some way to increase their chances of winning. Right now it all came down to how quickly he could reach the beast and eliminate him. He closed his eyes to the night and allowed sleep to take him. Perhaps he would be granted a vision that would give him insight to what he could do.

Yells woke him from a dead sleep. Leaping from under his covers he was out of his tent a moment later with the King’s Blade in hand, Power coursing through his body with each step he took. Fear gripped him tightly as he noticed the mist that had covered the camp, limiting the distance he could see. He stumbled into someone as he ran toward the sound of the commotion, that person too as barefoot with their sword in hand.

The number of bodies increased as he got closer to the source of the commotion. There was a sudden scream of terror issuing from several mouths. Without warning he slammed into a mass of bodies, forcing his way through them, trying not to harm them in the process. He plowed his way into an open area that held one of the many campfires and the sight that he came to made his heart plummet.

Standing beside the fire, surrounded by an army too frightened to move forward, in an area completely clear of all mist, was a man cloaked in robes of deepest green. The hood of the man was raised, hiding all features from view except for the glimmer of light that came from the green eyes that shined from under it. The intruder had one arm stretched out, a tight grip strangling one of the soldiers in uniform. It may have been the flicker of the fire or his own fear that ran through his mind, but he could have sworn that the dark skin that was exposed from out of the cloak looked almost plant like.

The strangled man fought and kicked, all the while being strangled tightly. No one dared to move as the man desperately tried to break free from the death grip that had ensnared him. A quick audible snap cracked through the night, a low gurgling issued from the soldier and a moment later the body fell to the floor.

Cries of rage came from all around, Mach moved forward a step, ready to take on this threat. Whoever this was, they were not going to leave this camp alive. Between one moment and the next, the mist swirled in, thick as any he had seen before, then dissipated completely, leaving no trace of it anywhere to be seen and in its place were several dozen forest Imps that looked remarkably like his old friend Miatsu.

Their bodies resembled that of a Human and a plant hybrid, in which the form of a tree or plant had been grafted onto the form of a small Human. If these things were similar to Miatsu in any way, they could be in a world of trouble right now with this many of them in the middle of their camp. If these Imps were like his friend, they could all summon beings and creatures from other places, and the things that he had seen Miatsu do was nothing compared to what the Imp was actually capable of doing at full strength.

The hooded figure stepped up to the lifeless form of the man and kicked it over, revealing his face to the stars and firelight. “Humph. Just as I thought. Soulless.” A gentle breeze blew through the camp, rustling the leaves on the heads of the Imps. The voice of the hooded man was as gentle as that breeze but it rang as clearly as if it had been right beside him.

Mach’s mind ran around itself wildly, fear running rampant making it hard to concentrate. Why aren’t we all dead right now! What does he mean Soulless? What the hell is going on! So many question needed to be answered, he needed to start with the one. “Soulless? What do you mean by that?”

The invader turned his head to Mach and looked at him from under the hood, his green eyes glowing with its own light. There was something about this that shook him deeply, something that was both notably familiar and fearfully different. Slowly the man raised his hands up and laid back his hood. Light brown skin, almost a walnut color shined under the starlight. Golden blonde hair flowed long down his back as the hood fell away. “King Derune. I am pleased to see that you have grown stronger. I have missed your company. Yours and the others.”

He shook his head in confusion. What in the world was this man talking about. He had never met anyone who resembled him, ever in his life. True, there was a feeling of familiarity their but that was fleeting. The truth of the matter was this man was a complete stranger. More to that he had just murdered one of his men. Pulling Power he flowed it through the King’s Blade, in an instant the sword burst into golden flames. The same fiery glow that he had used once before this. The fires of protection burned savagely as he fueled the blade with his will. “Who are you?” He asked finally. “In what way do you claim to know me?” he could see the length of the sword glow in the man’s eyes, the fire steady and strong.

The man smiled at him, but not in a way that felt rude. There was a feeling of understanding and comprehension behind those glowing eyes. “Many things have changed since we last saw each other. As you have grown in strength, so have I. In your own way, you have changed in a great many subtle ways. My changes have been fewer, but greater. So in a sense, we have grown together despite being apart.”

Mach looked at the man in complete confusion. Nothing that he was saying made any sense and with every word that was said pushed any thought of knowing who this man was further from his mind. A sudden spike of Power rose from out of nowhere, the man raised an arm and with a crack of thunder and a flash of light a pack of black briar wolves swarmed the exposed area between the army and the invader.

His heart raced in fear as he stared, wide eyed at what had appeared. If ever he had feared anything, truly feared something to the deepest marrow of his bones, it now stood before him. This will not be his end! He had to make it through this and through tomorrow! I will face Rubious! Lunging forward, coursing his Power through his veins like the blood that pumped through them, he slashed at the nearest wolf. His blade met with nothing but thin air as what had been there vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Miatsu!” Mendoll’s voice echoed from behind Mach. He snapped his head around and stared at the Adept. What in the name of the Nine Hells? Mendoll looked at the invader with curiosity thick in his eyes. “Is that really you?” Mendoll asked over the silence that had fallen.

Mach turned back to the invader who was now smiling mischievously. Just as the little forest Imp had once smiled. “Do you see it now, King Derune?” For the briefest of moments Mach witnessed an image of the Miatsu he knew, the face of his friend, imposed over the face of the invader. In an instant the Power that fueled the King’s Blade vanished and with it the flames. The red and black steel glowed for a moment before growing dark in the cool night air. He stood there staring at the man who accepted the claim to the name of Miatsu.

“How…Who…” He tried asking but the words would not come to him. He was completely lost to what was happening.

Miatsu smiled apologetically at him. “I will be happy to explain, old friend. That,” he pointed at the body of the man he had strangled to death, “is one of Rubious’ men. I know this for all that follow you have fears. From the weakest Human to the bravest Dragon. My children and I are able to see the fears that the soul hides deep below. This man had no soul, at least, not enough of one. Therefore he is one of the Soulless that you will be facing.” Without another word said the dozens of Imps scattered, running like mist through the camp. “If there are any more, they will not live for long.”

“But why are you here?” Mendoll asked, “I thought that the Nameless was taking your people far from here?”

“That my young friend, will take a little more time to explain.” Miatsu said to Mendoll. Mach could see a tear swelling in the green eyes of the man who claimed the name of his friend. “Let us have some food and drink and I will explain the details. Father has left this world and I now carry his title of Nameless, however as it had been since I first joined you, this is my life and therefore I may choose how to live it for myself.”

Joshua looked up the side of the dark wall that would lead them into the court yard of the palace. This seemed like an impossible mission. They could be caught at any moment and all it would take is one of these people to find any of the bodies that they had hid in order to sound the alarm and they would be forced to make a run for it. If they were lucky, very lucky, they would make it back to the port.

He looked behind him and nodded to his team. Each member had been chosen because they were unique with their skills. Two soldiers whose abilities were near Mage gifted, a Mage who was skilled in deception magic and one of the Herman race who was, by their standards, small but extraordinarily swift and light footed despite still being larger than a Human.

In one swift movement, the Herman moved against the wall facing out toward the others and knelt down, his fingers locked together. The older of the two soldiers took watch several feet back, his eyes on the lookout for sentries above. “Anthony,” Joshua whispered to the older soldier, “on your mark. Mark, do what you can to hide Steven’s ascent. Are you ready, Trokha?”

Nods all around was all the response he needed. He positioned himself as best he could in front of Steven, but where he would still be able to see if anyone was coming. While watching the side streets along the wall he kept an eye on Anthony, keeping his hand up to mimic the older soldier’s signals. Steven repositioned the rope around his shoulders and readied himself as Anthony began a five count. The moment the countdown hit zero, Steven ran at the Herman, leapt at him landing in his outstretched hands and was heaved up the side the wall. Using a small pike to latch onto the wall as he cleared the top, Steven quietly slipped over the stone and tied the rope off of the battlement, lowering the rope for them to follow. Within minutes they scaled the wall and reversed their climb down to the palace court yard. Once again making it through enemy lines without being noticed.

Was it just him, or was this too easy? They had come up against opposition, but that had been minuscule in comparison to what King Derune had reported to have seen. There should have been far more sentries on duty. Right?

For a moment he thought of turning back. If there was a way he could check in with the crew that were watching the docks, then maybe he would feel better about continuing this mission. If this was a trap, and he was bumbling into it, he could be leading his men to their deaths. But how likely was it that this was a trap? How likely was it that Rubious or his creations knew that he and his men were here in the city? Mach had made himself a very obvious target on the eastern coast. If everything was going according to the plan, then Rubious’ eyes would be cast there, not here within his stronghold.

A door sat open near the front of the palace, neglected by the night watch. That would be there way in. If anyone were to come in or out they would surely come through the front doors, not through the sides. As swift as the wind and hidden in darkness created by their specialist, they hurried across the open yard to the side of the palace and along the length of it. Steven led the way into the palace, taking charge of the entry as the chance of close quarter combat became more realistic.

“Are you sure about that?” An angry voice came from just outside the open door.

Instantly the five stopped dead in their tracks, barely able to breath for fear of being heard.

“I do not like being dragged out of a peaceful sleep to hunt false tales, Captain. They had better be there or by the Gods of the Nine Hells I will flay your flesh as recourse.” Just the sound of the man’s voice sent a chill down Joshua’s spine.

He signaled for the others to stay where they were and slid along the wall and out the door, keeping to the darkest shadows that he could. Although he could only see the back of either of the two men’s heads, he could tell who one of them was instantly. He had only seen Rubious once, but that one time had been enough. Anger rose up in him like a wildfire as he remembered the Pyre that they had been forced to hold after the Arien event. What he would give to be able to take out the beast here and now!

“If that army is not camped where you claim, you had best take your sword and cut out your own heart.” Rubious snarled as the two walked off.

The Captain hesitated to answer but when he spoke his voice was full of strength. “The information I have is sound, Emperor. They are not a threat to us behind these walls. But they are present.”

“Have you assembled the army?” Rubious demanded.

“Yes, your Eminence. They are waiting at the gate for your orders.” The Captain answered.

The voices of the two faded off and Joshua slid back down along the wall to where his men waited for him. “We need to get back to King Derune. Rubious is most likely on his way to him.”

“We need to finish what we came here for.” Trokha whispered. “We need to get that book.”

“Rubious is out of the palace!” He retorted, more to himself then to the others. This was the best chance that they would ever have to get that Book! “He’s not in there!”

“We have to hurry then.” Mark replied to his enthusiasm.

Keeping to the darkest halls, or else creating the darkness where it was needed, the group searched for Rubious’ private room. “Where the hell is it?” Steven cried out after searching several floors.

“Doesn’t this place look familiar?” Mark asked suddenly, glancing up and down the hallways. “If I didn’t know better, I would think I was back in Gehnith.”

This did have a noticeable similarity to the palace in Gehnith, which had been Rubious’. What if the beast had this place built based on that design as a way of gaining back some of what he had lost? “Quick, does any of you know where Rubious had his quarters in Gehnith?”

Anthony’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yea, when I was part of his army before he abandoned us. I know where it is!” The older soldier took off, running down corridors while searching for the signs that only he would know. As they searched the hallways, they found no signs of anyone else within the walls. It was as if the entire building had been emptied or abandoned.

Suddenly Anthony lurched to the side and slammed into a door, bursting into a room. Joshua followed next, signaling for Mark and Trokha to watch for any unexpected company. The bedroom was styled lavishly in a way that would fit someone trying to claim a title well beyond what they deserved. If this was not Rubious’ room then there may need to leave without the book. Anthony and Steven split up to search the other rooms while Joshua searched the main room. He did not have to search for long.

Sitting on a writing desk, open for all the world to see, was a book in black leather bindings. Inside the pages were written words that he could not begin to understand. The pages were old and worn and yet they were in remarkably good shape. Beside it sat a stack of papers, bound with thin rope. It was apparent that someone had been making a copy of this tome. “In here.” He called out into the darkness.

Immediately he heard the footsteps of all five of his comrades behind him. “What do you want to do?” Steven asked quietly as he looked over Joshua’s shoulder at the two books.

“Do we destroy it here or do we take it with us?” Mark asked, reaching out to the copied pages.

“I have no idea if this Book has any kind of protection on it.” Joshua answered in a whisper. “If we try to destroy it and it retaliates on us, we could be left in more trouble than we already are in.”

Trokha reached out to the Book of Black and touched the bindings. “This book, it is dangerous with our enemy, right? Your people say that magic is not good or evil, it is the one who uses it that makes it such.”

“That is true.” Mark answered. “It is our belief that all magic can be used to better the world, even the kind that is thought to be the most horrid. In some way it can be used for good.”

Trokha looked at Joshua, complete seriousness in his tone. “We take the Book. Your people say Knowledge is Power, my people say Power is Strength. Therefore Knowledge is Strength. This Strength can be used properly to defeat our enemy and defend our people. It just needs a great Leader to use it.”

Joshua looked back at the Herman and he understood every word and every meaning that was said. The respect that King Derune had obtained from the people that followed him went deep, this moment has shown just how deep that respect had gone. “Let’s get out of here.” He answered, picking both books up and stashing them in his bag. “We need to get back to the others, then the fun begins.” He smiled mischievously at his comrades. “Remember, we still need to take out the docks. Can’t have an enemy come up behind us during the middle of battle.”

The other four smiled back at him, the same mischievous look in their eyes. Now that the hard part was over, that is once they return to their ship, quite a few of his crew would be able to release some of their anger on Rubious before King Derune was able to. That would be a thrill all by itself.