This is awesome! I'm actually quite envious of your writing style: it's so formal and mature, hiding very dark undertones and man, is it amazing. Can't wait to see where it goes, keep it up! 
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Shadows of the Spire
- Thread starter Iyoforeayo
- Start date
Chapter 5
A week had passed since the Arvik-bound forces left Auru, and the city felt… smaller to Ajaxan. It reminded him of a simpler time, when the town was young and its future looked prosperous… the days before the Great Betrayal. The days before the dreadful visions had begun to invade his sleep, painting dreams of a fiery end - to his friends, to his town, to everything.
The Prophet overlooked the city of Auru from the Spire’s topmost balcony. The Kalrosian winds ripped at his cloak and skin, but he paid them no mind - for the first time in a week, the sun was out, and the town’s farms would get some much-needed nourishing. These days, it was the little victories that kept the Aurulian leader going. Whatever the state of things, his nightly dreams would remind him that a sharp and brutal end awaited them all. During the waking hours, it was refreshing to watch the day-to-day rituals of the townsfolk - hard at work in the fields or on the docks, wholly unaware of the greater evils that threatened to end it all.
It was a large crackling sound, followed by a pained shout from Shadowfox that drew the Prophet’s attention back to the Spire chamber. He turned and walked back inside to see the Professor cradling one of his hands, redstone dust sparking all around him.
“This gods-damned Knife,” Shadow muttered to Ajaxan. “I can manage any piece of redstone technology in the world, but as soon as you add magic in there-”
“Yes, yes, terribly unstable, makes no sense,” Ajaxan laughed, prematurely quoting the Professor’s usual complaints about the mixture of technology and the arcane.
Shadow smiled too, knowing the Prophet was probably sick of this tired argument. “We’re getting closer.”
“What have you found?”
“Well, we’ve obviously gotten it to generate power - the problem lies in harnessing it to activate the damn thing,” the Professor said, gesturing towards a workbench filled with notes and sketches. “I’ve managed to replicate the Aladran Knife perfectly, but whatever piece of it actually catalyzes the rifts is missing. That, or…”
“...or it isn’t a physical piece at all,” Ajaxan said, inspecting the exposed back panel of the structure. He grabbed the gnarled staff propped up nearby, and raised the Eye of the Prophet to the inside of the Knife, using the dull glow emanating from its bulb to cut through the darkness. Along the inside of the Knife’s shell were a number of carved runes, copied directly from the Knife in Aladra. The Prophet had been studying these markings ever since their first inspection of the device in Aladra, but so far he hadn’t found-
“Careful, don’t lean too far or you might fall into that thing.”
Ajaxan was surprised to hear Jed’s voice, but glad to see her standing in the doorway of the Spire chamber. “You’re back! You-”
“Found Caeldris,” Jedoi finished for him. “Yes.”
“And Mai?”
The Wolf Mother did not answer. Instead, she looked to the ground, a single tear falling from beneath her hair.
“This seems like a private conversation,” the Professor said, gathering a few belongings from the desk and making his way to the doorway. “I’ll, uh… get the drinking started for us.”
As Shadow left, Jedoi looked up at Ajaxan, her eyes glassy with tears. “I thought of all places, the magic I needed to save her would’ve been in the Lost Library. It just - it all happened so fast…”
The Prophet offered a comforting hand to her. “You did everything you could.”
“Did I?” Jedoi shot back, “I trapped her, Ajax. None of the healing spells were working, nothing, so I found a spell and I… I suspended her beneath the flow of time. I just needed more time, more time to find the right… I searched every book in that gods-damned library, but…”
Jed turned away then, as the thought trailed off. The tears had stopped now, replaced by a sad stoicism.
“You did what you had to do to save your daughter,” Ajaxan said. “And believe me, Jed. We’re going to find a way to cure her. Whatever this is, we’ll find a way-”
“And what if we don’t?” Jed said plainly, turning to acknowledge the towering Knife behind Ajaxan. “What if Preksak returns tomorrow? What if the world ends in the blink of an eye, hm? Isn’t that what all this is planning for? Isn’t that what we’re expecting?”
“Jed…”
“When those Harvesters show up, they’ll destroy everything. Caeldris. Mai. All of it. And when that day comes, I don’t care whether or not this Knife of yours is working - I’m not leaving without her.”
The Prophet knew he would never convince her otherwise - nor was he sure he wouldn’t do the same thing in her position. To live forever seemed like a gift from the Ancients; but to live forever just to witness loved ones slip through the magicks of the Artifact - as seemed to be with Mai - made the gift all but worthless.
“Well, as a matter of fact,” Ajaxan said, “we may never get this thing working. It seems we’ve hit a bit of a wall.”
Jed looked up. “There is… something you should see.”
The scroll she pulled from her bag was old and frayed - the browned paper edges ripped and bent from heavy use. “I found some of Leasaur’s belongings in Caeldris. Books of enchantments, journals… and this.”
She handed the scroll to Ajaxan, who carefully unrolled it. Inside, an intricate hand-drawn map of Kalros stared back at him. The map appeared to be centuries old, but the shape of the continent had not changed much. Deep in the northern mountains, the map bore a strange marking. And along the edges… runes. Just like the ones…
“She must have found it in the library itself,” Jed continued. “From the looks of her things, she was studying it when she had to leave in a hurry. I’m not sure-”
But Ajaxan barely heard this last part. He scrambled across the chamber to the Knife, grabbing the Eye of the Prophet once again to illuminate the interior of the structure’s back panelling.
“Jed… these markings…”
“I know,” she said, approaching the Knife, “I couldn’t find anything in Caeldris about them.”
“Look.”
The Wolf Mother peered inside the opening of the Knife. Inside, the soft glow of the Prophet’s staff illuminated the runes inside. The same runes that adorned the edges of the map.
“I’ve studied the Ancients all my life,” Ajaxan continued. “The scriptures tell of a great temple, high in the northern mountains of Kalros, supposedly lost to time. It’s said the Ancients derived their true power from the heart of the mountains, and constructed a number of powerful artifacts there. I’ve had my suspicions for a long time, but now this confirms it…”
“You think one of those artifacts was a Knife,” Jed said.
“The first Knife,” Ajaxan nodded. “The first Lokan one, at least. And whatever piece of the puzzle we’re missing on ours, I think I know where we’ll find answers.”
Jed looked down to the map, to the marking deep in the northern mountains that the Prophet’s finger now pointed to. “Who will you send?”
“No one,” he replied. “I can’t spare Auru’s resources on what could end up being a wild goose chase. This is something I must do alone.”
“You can’t be serious!” Jed said. “Half our city is off protecting Arvik, and now you want to leave Auru without a leader?”
“I won’t leave it without a leader.”
It took a moment for the Prophet’s sly smile to register with Jed, but once she did, she couldn’t help but scoff. “Me? No no no-”
“You’re my best choice.”
“What about Xovious?”
“Xovious is a good man, and a great general,” Ajaxan said. “I need him in the field more than anywhere else. But in the event that I don’t come back-”
“Ajax-”
“-if… I don’t come back. There’s no one I trust more to keep our city alive.”
Jed stood in a stunned silence, as the Prophet rolled up the map and made his way across the room. She turned to him before he reached the doorway.
“You will be back, right?” The question came out more like a statement, as intended.
Ajaxan stopped, turning to her with a warm smile. After a moment of contemplation, he bowed. “May the gods watch over you… High Queen of Auru.”
***
(switch to this music)
Nokiaman sat at the far end of the Arvikian throne room, the greatsword Ashrune propped before him. One hand clutched the sword’s hilt, while the other dragged a heavy whetstone over the blade. The sounds of shaved steel echoed throughout the grandiose hallways of the Royal Palace.
“Must you do that in the middle of my throne room?” Sougol said, entering from the great hallway.
Nokia smirked at his old friend. “Not your throne room for another few hours. This is my last chance to get out all my heretical tendencies.”
Sougol laughed, staring up at the royal seat. “You know, it should be you on that throne.”
“Bah.”
“It was you that led us in New Ibbish-”
“And we all know how well that turned out.”
“And when the time came,” said Soug, “it was you that got our people out alive. We’re all here because of you, Nokia.”
“We’re all here because of all of us,” Nokia said, sheathing Ashrune and setting the whetstone aside. “Not because of me, or you, or any one person. Our people are strong. And now they’ve chosen you to lead us into the new era.”
The soon-to-be-king smiled, but Nokia quickly cut the moment short with a ‘Your Grace’ and a delicate curtsy that had them both laughing.
“Besides,” Nokia continued, “the King’s Champion is a much better position. I still get to chop heads, and I get the respect. Have fun stashed away up here all day, pal.”
Quazister, the city’s Captain of the Guard, strode into the room. “Lord Nokia, the Aurulians have arrived at the West Gate.”
Nokia rose to leave, turning back to Sougol at the doorway. “Our people made the right choice in you, Soug. I couldn’t ask for a better king to die for. Over and over and over and over…”
The two men laughed again, before Nokiaman followed Quaz out the door. Alone in the room where he would soon command the largest alliance to ever oppose the Covenant, Sougol stared back at the Arvikian throne and wondered just how many times they all had died before...
***
The Aurulians stood before the great walls of Arvik - the intricate and beautiful architecture reminiscent of New Ibbish (as Iyo remembered it.) At the head of their ranks, Xovious peered through the wrought iron bars of the West Gate to see Nokiaman and Quazister making their way down the road towards them. A shrill whistle from Nokia sent an echoing cry of “open the gates!” from the western guard towers.
As the gates creaked open, Nokia stepped forward to greet Xovious with a stern look on his face. “You’re late. The King is displeased.”
“Well then sucks to your King,” Xovious replied, “we’ll turn around and go home.”
A tense moment of silence passed between the two men, and Iyo wasn’t sure what would come of it. Then the Arvikian cracked a smile, and the two military leaders broke into laughter and embraced like old friends.
“It’s good to see you, Xov,” Nokia said, leading the Aurulians inside the gate. “How go things in the west?”
“Oh, violent as usual,” said the General. “My scouts are reporting a Hiloian force a half-day behind us, but nothing big enough to be a problem. Just a stupid intimidation attempt, I’ll bet. Give me anyone you can spare, and we’ll set up outside the walls here…”
As the last of the Aurulian forces crossed under walls, the iron gate creaked closed behind them. East down the road they went, pushing their way through the teeming crowds of people pouring out of shopfronts and homes and into the streets of Arvik. Iyo took it all in as they walked, noticing flags and cloaks and crests of shields from dozens of towns and tribes - a good many of which were not familiar to him.
The Thieflord turned to Benged. “How many of these banners don’t you recognize?”
“At least seven so far,” replied Ben. “But they could just be smaller tribes.”
“Let’s look into those before-”
A brilliant burst of trumpets across the city cut the sentence short, signifying the coronation was just a few hours away.
“Quickly then,” Iyo finished. Ben turned to the other rogues and the whispered orders passed down the line.
But the few hours proved barely enough time to get decisive intel on half the congregations in question, while the others remained, at best, optimistic. The chaos and bustle of the pre-ceremonial preparations made navigating the streets of Arvik difficult for the rogues, and before long, the clanging bells signified that the coronation would be starting in the chapel momentarily.
The chapel was big enough to hold only a fraction of the ceremony’s attendees - hundreds of anxious supporters poured out into the streets for blocks around, straining to get even a sight of the event. Inside, the soon-to-be King Sougol stood before the grand altar, a gilded crown set before him. The city’s lords and nobles occupied the front half of the chamber’s seats, while the Aurulian thieves stood along the edges of the room, interspersed with Quazister’s own city guards.
Iyo scanned the chapel crowd. As a show of good faith, Arvik had invited lords from each of their newest allies to attend the coronation, and they sat amongst the known highborns of Arvik in the first several rows of pews. From the front row, Nokia stood and approached the altar. He turned to address the crowd, who hushed instantly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, lords and lowborn alike,” he began. “We are gathered here today, in the great city of Arvik, to crown our new king. A new leader, to guide our people into a new era of prosperity - one where our families and loved ones need not be afraid of the Covenant’s oppressive and violent rule.”
‘If there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s command a room.’ Iyo turned to his side, momentarily confused at the source of the voice. He quickly realized it hadn’t been a voice, but a thought - and noted it had been some time since the Shadknife had reached out to him last.
‘Don’t get distracted by the grandeur of it all,’ the sword continued, and Iyo felt the familiar pulse at his side. ‘There’s more than one person here who’s not who they seem.’
“Could you be a little more specific?” Iyo spat down to his side in a hushed whisper, drawing a confused look from the city guard beside him.
“...from the time of the Zephyros, where he held a seat on the council…” Nokia’s bellowing voice was running through the leader’s past accomplishments, drawing various cheers and applause from throughout the chamber.
The Thieflord scanned the pews. “First two rows are accounted for.”
‘It’s not the rows you should be worried about.’
The Shadknife’s thought had barely registered in Iyo’s head before he saw the rapid movement from the corner of his eye. Across the room, Ben must have seen the Thieflord’s expression, because he turned to his side just in time to see the city guard beside him produce a small blade from beneath his sleeve.
Had his movement not been noticed in this final instant, the assassin would have likely made it close enough to the altar to reach Sougol. As it happened, however, Benged managed to land a clumsy blow across the man’s side, sending him careening off-balance. Falling to the ground, the assailant seemed to embrace his impending death as Nokia turned around to face him, in one final outcry:
“FOR THE COVENA-!”
But Nokia was driving Ashrune down through the man’s skull before he finished the cry, cleaving him with such force that it nearly ripped the man in half. No sooner had he been silenced, however, than the room erupted in a flurry of movement. Cloaks were thrown off, as a handful of people throughout the chamber lept to their feet, wielding curved blades and echoing the call.
“FOR THE COVENANT!”
The Shadknife was in Iyo’s hand in the blink of an eye, rising to meet the blade of an assailant clad in Arvikian armor that had turned to lunge at him. Steel rang throughout the chapel, as guards and attackers alike drew their swords. At the head of the room, Nokiaman threw himself in front of the King, his greatsword making quick work of the few traitors that had been foolish enough to advance on Sougol.
The cries of panic quickly filled the air, and chaos erupted as the crowds stampeded for the exits. The assailants made no distinction between highborn and lowborn - they slaughtered anyone and everyone within reach, until the Aurulian rogues and the remaining city guard took them down. From the sounds of chaos outside the chapel, however, it was clear the fight was far from over.
A haggard courier burst through the doors of the chapel, momentarily stunned by the carnage inside. “Lord Nokia,” he panted, “word from General Xovious-”
The deep rumble of an explosion rocked through the city then, moving the very ground beneath them like turbulent waves. The screams outside quelled for a moment, then resumed, intensely louder than before. The Aurulians looked to Nokia, who turned his attention back to the shaken courier.
“What is it, boy!?”
“The Hiloians,” the boy shouted over the din of chaos. “They’ve reached the West Gate.”
More... More... MORE NOW!!! I wanna cleave some heads D;
Chapter 6
“Such a lovely day for a coronation!” Kallious boomed across the field outside Arvik’s western gate. Behind the Captain stood a small regiment of Hiloian soldiers, bearing their standard green shields and wooden bows. “It seems our invitations were lost in the mail!”
Before the gates of Arvik stood an impressive array of allied forces, vastly outnumbering the small Hiloian troop. Xovious strode out in front to address the Captain. “It seems you’ve forgotten how many troops it takes to attack a city, Kal. I hope you don’t mean to waste our time making us slaughter your little merry band out here.”
Kallious laughed. “Taking a city is such hard work from the outside in, you know?”
It was then that the armies heard the screams from inside the walls; panicked cries that grew in intensity as the sounds of thunderous footsteps fleeing the coronation flooded the streets.
Xovious grabbed the shoulder of a young squire nearby. “Find Nokia. See how many troops he needs in there, and let him know we have company out here as well.”
The nervous boy nodded his understanding, then hurried back through the ranks and inside the city gates to find the King’s Champion.
“Seems a bit hectic in there!” Kallious shouted with a wry smile. “Would be a shame if all those people running around weren’t looking up, hm?”
On cue, the Hiloain soldiers nocked arrows and raised their bows to the sky; an arc that would no doubt land their arrows amidst the fleeing crowds inside the walls. Xovious barely had to shout the order before his own archers had arrows nocked and ready, aimed directly at the Hiloians. As if expecting this response, the front line of the Hiloian regiment dropped their bows and raised their shields in a solid green wall, protecting the archers behind them.
“I love playing this chess game with you, Xov,” Kallious smirked. “You’re just so… bad at it.”
The Hiloian Captain raised a hand to the air, and his archers tensed. Out of options, Xovious shouted to the allied armies. “Charge! Swarm the shieldbearers and STOP THOSE ARCHERS!”
The Asmundian allied armies charged forth from the city gates, thundering across the open field of the roofed forest. As the distance closed rapidly, Xovious waited for Kallious’ archers to let fly their first round of arrows before they could be reached… but to his confusion, the Hiloains held.
‘Something’s wrong,’ the General thought to himself as he met Kal’s gaze, only a few hundred yards away. Hand still raised, the Hiloian Captain flashed a pleasant smile at Xovious, who suddenly had a sickening thought. He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to shout to the armies swarming around and past him.
“ASMUND! BACK TO-”
But it was too late. The ground rumbled as an explosion echoed deep within it; then suddenly the explosion was firing upwards, ripping the ground beneath the Asmundians’ feet to shreds. The armies cried out as they tumbled into the chasm that blew its way across the open field outside Arvik in a fiery wave. Far below, the unfortunate troops crashed to the chasm floor, limbs snapping as they were dashed upon the rocks.
Had Xovious not grabbed a jutting rock in his fall (and summarily broken his arm in doing so), he likely would have perished in one of the deeper parts of the chasm below. But even the brief halt of momentum before his broken arm let go, saved the General from the full brunt of the drop. He crashed to the chasm floor and tumbled over his arm, crying out in pain. Peering up with bleary eyes, through his troops raining down around him, he saw Kallious look out over the lip of the crater.
“Amazing what you can do with some old mining tunnels and a little TNT!” Kallious shouted down. “Now for those of you who were courteous enough to stay alive, it’d be lovely if you could just stay put while we pay our respects to the new king.”
From the dense cover of the forests nearby, a swarm of Covenant troops led by Bat poured into the field to join the Hiloians. On Bat’s orders, the troops began laying long, heavy boards across the spanning chasm.
“Mind the gap, loves!” Kallious shouted, as he led the new armies across the makeshift bridge and towards the city gates.
In the crater below, Xovious roared in anger as his useless arm dangled at his side. He stood and looked out over the carnage before him - piles of soldiers with broken legs and hips, collapsed lungs, many with near-fatal injuries. He knew these troops would never get out of this chasm alive - himself included - but in the age of the Artifact, the rules of war had changed.
“Asmundians!” he shouted over the sounds of the wounded. “We have been dealt a great blow, but we are far from finished! You know what must be done.”
The soldiers had seen no shortage of battles, and many had found themselves in such a situation before. Under the Artifact, the grim reality was that a wounded warrior served a benefit to no one; and so one by one, the Asmundians that could still lift a sword began turning their blades inward, piercing themselves through the neck before their bodies were whisked away by the Artifact.
Xovious made his way down the chasm, aiding those no longer able to hold a blade in finishing the job before planning to do the same himself. He paused at the wheezing body of an Arvikian soldier who had clearly lost the use of both arms, and was trying in vain to angle his sword far enough to end his own life. He stopped as the Aurulian General approached him, looking up at Xovious with a look of determined duty.
“Orders, General Xovious?”
The General nodded in admiration, as he raised his sword to cleave the man’s head from his body. “We rally in Aladra.”
***
The explosion outside the gates had sent shockwaves through the streets of Arvik, plunging the already-panicked crowds into further chaos and uncertainty. Nokia and the Aurulian thieves burst out of the chapel doors and onto the cobbled streets, trying to locate the source of the blast. The throngs of fleeing citizens made visibility difficult, but Quazister nonetheless managed to make his way through to them.
Nokia turned to him. “Where was that?”
“Outside the western gate,” Quaz panted out. “All our forces outside the walls… gone.”
A sea of arrows launched over the walls, clipping several Arvikian watchmen in the process. The remainder rained down across the streets, a good many finding their way through the neck or chest of unlucky civilians. A cry of ‘Hold the gate!’ was brutally silenced, as a Covenant assailant in Arvikian armor turned on his fellow gatekeeper and slit the man’s throat.
As the Asmundians watched in horror at the western gate beginning to creak open, Quaz slung the bow off his shoulder and let loose three rapid arrows. The first sailed high, striking the wood above the gateroom’s doorway. The next sailed through, pinning the traitorous gatekeeper’s wrist to the wall behind him. The final arrow found the man’s eye socket, and the opening gate ground to a halt. A few enemy soldiers had been fast enough to scurry underneath the rising bars, but the unlucky stragglers screamed as they found themselves crushed beneath the falling iron spikes.
“Half your men to the portal,” Nokia said to Quaz, motioning at an ornate structure in one of the central plazas, patrolled by a handful of hulking iron golems. “If I know Xov, he’ll have the rest of our forces back through here in ten minutes; we’ve just got to hold our ground.”
The Captain of the Guard nodded his acknowledgement before taking off down the road, shouting orders to the mustering troops charging to defend the gates.
“The rest of you,” Nokia said as he turned to the Aurulian thieves, “we need to get Soug back to the palace.”
The newly-crowned King had remained inside, but now emerged from the chapel doors, sword in hand. Iyo and the others quickly surrounded him, forming a loose phalanx with the King’s Champion at its head. The protectors pushed their way through the surging crowds, watching as Covenant soldiers began climbing over the city walls from the tops of ladders. A few Arvikian watchmen were able to tip some back, sending more than a few climbing Covenant soldiers plummeting backwards to their deaths. But there were too many, too spread out to all be stopped; the fight was quickly being brought from outside the walls to atop them.
An arrow struck the cobble near Iyo’s foot, inches away from pinning him to the ground like a tent-spike. It was a momentary breath of relief as he looked up to see that they had reached the front gates of the Royal Palace, before turning to survey the state of the city behind them:
Enemy troops now poured over the walls like an overflowing cauldron, and the few remaining Arvikian gatekeepers held out as long as they could before being outnumbered and cut down. As the iron gates opened once again, the Bat of Hilo strode through into the city streets, Covenant soldiers surging in all around him.
“Get him inside!” Nokia shouted, and the phalanx quickly moved through the grand doors of the palace, amidst a hail of arrows.
***
Bacchus Markov ran through the streets of Arvik, charging fast for the portal in the plaza at the center of town. The miltid and a small number of other watchmen had received the frantic order from Captain Quaz to defend the generator at all costs; now, as they watched in horror as Covenant soldiers surged into the city streets, they realized their small force would quickly be outnumbered.
“They’re through the walls!” cried the guard nearest Bacchus, as they reached the portal plaza. “We’ll never hold it!”
“We just need to buy them time,” the miltid replied. Bacchus’ keen ears picked up the steadily-building hum of the generator’s recharging portal, and knew it was only a matter of minutes until it was able to pull the Aladrans through. “Spread out and use the golems!”
Bacchus had barely barked the order out when an assailant flung himself from the roof of a nearby building, crashing down onto the miltid with such force that they were both sent tumbling into the shallow water of the gardens surrounding the generator. Both had lost their weapons in the tumble, but the Covenant fighter seemed to regain his wits sooner, and held Bacchus’ head underwater.
The miltid struggled, flailing violently beneath the greaved hands of the enemy in an attempt to surge upwards and gulp a much-needed lungful of air. His vision began to blur, as he felt his aching chest cry out for oxygen. It was then that Bacchus’ feral nature took over, and in a moment of desperation, found enough strength to pivot himself around. He clamped his teeth around the assailant’s wrist and tore a massive chunk of the man’s arm from the bone.
Screaming in pain, the assailant let go long enough for Bacchus to push him back and scramble above water, gasping in air with ferocity. As the two fighters reeled, the nearby iron golem registered what had just happened, and charged forward towards them with terrifying speed. Bacchus saw the cold, lifeless eyes first and ducked out of the way. The Covenant soldier, preoccupied with his wounded arm, noticed the movement too late; the iron golem drove a massive metal arm through his head with such brutal momentum that it dissolved the man’s skull inside the helm and sent the rest of him crashing against the side of the generator before being mercifully whisked away by the Artifact.
Bacchus whipped around, shaking the water from his dark fur as he turned to see several dozen Covenant troops charging down the cobbled streets towards them. Just then, the generator crackled to life, and a resounding cry echoed out of it as the once-fallen Asmundian troops charged forth from the portal. As they clashed with the advancing troops, Xovious strode out from the Aladra portal to survey the situation.
“Good gods…” he muttered, turning to extend a hand to Bacchus, witnessing the chaos closing in around them. Then, in a shout to the newly-rallied Asmundian forces holding fast alongside the iron golems: “Push them back from the portal!”
***
Nokiaman flung the doors of the throne room open, hurrying Sougol inside. The sounds of battle were quickly growing louder, and the barricade that the king’s protectors had set up inside the main palace gates would only hold for so long. Even as they closed the throne room doors and gathered in the hall outside, they could hear the rattle of troops below, trying to force their way in.
“We spread out and hold the palace,” Nokia ordered to the Aurulian thieves gathered around. “Two at every possible-”
“Uh, guys?” Benged interrupted, and the group turned to see him staring out one of the high east windows. “You might want to see this.”
Iyo was the first up the stairs to witness it, but soon all the Asmundians were staring out the window, their faces dropping at the sight. Coming over the waters of the horizon to the east, was a sea of blue-and-white-sailed ships. The veritable armada of the Eldritchian fleet.
No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity. The thieves turned to the King’s Champion for a sign of an idea, or at the very least hope… but the look on Nokia’s face did not seem to be one of optimism.
It was Benged who broke the silence, turning to Nokia with a glint in his eye. “I have an idea. But it’s gonna take all of us to pull it off. Will you-?”
“Go,” Nokia responded, processing the request before the young rogue could even finish it. “I’ll hold the palace myself. I don’t know what your plan is, but if that fleet reaches the shore, the city is lost.”
Nokia drew Ashrune from its scabbard once again, and turned to face the rattling barricade below that would soon break free. Benged pushed open the high window and climbed out onto the parapet outside, beckoning for the others to follow.
“Does everyone have their wings?” Benged asked, as he hoisted his own around his shoulders. The other rogues quickly followed suit, taking in the details of the wild plan as they fastened their own elytras to their backs. If there were any doubts or misgivings amongst the group, there was no time to voice them - though from the looks on their faces, Iyo guessed there were more than a few.
“Follow my lead,” Ben said, as he hurled himself from the high parapet of the palace. He dropped through the air for a moment, before the wings caught the air and snapped them to life, and sending him careening outwards across the treetops of the Roofed Forest.
‘Easier said than done,’ the Shadknife quipped to Iyo, as the Thieflord stepped to the edge of the wall and looked down. He cinched the fastener around his shoulders one final time, and looked to the other rogues.
“As far to the back of the fleet as you can go,” he said, and soon they were all plummeting from the walls of Arvik, silently praying that the wind caught hold of them before the spire of an unforgiving tree did, or worse yet - nothing.
Chapter 7
For five of the longest seconds of Iyoforeayo’s life, he plummeted from the high tower of the Royal Palace of Arvik with terrifying speed. Every instinct in his mind was braced for impending death, as he took note of the particular treetop he fell towards that would undoubtedly spear through him like a hot knife through butter.
Then he felt the straps around his shoulders pull tight, as the silken wings on his back finally caught the wind and snapped to life. His downward momentum quickly angled forward, and suddenly he was flying low over the cover of the Roofed Forest, his descent into the treeline slowed but still impending.
‘That was close,’ he thought, but he heard the Shadknife’s immediate response in his mind before he could breath too much of a sigh of relief: ‘We’re not out of the woods yet…’
Iyo wondered if there would ever be a more fitting usage of that phrase, as he angled his flying form wildly to avoid being snagged on a high branch and ripped from the sky. Faster and faster he rocketed forwards, twisting left and right through the canopy of treetops that he slowly sank into. Through the foliage, he could see the open horizon on the other side getting closer.
Then suddenly he was through it - the Thieflord burst forth from the treeline, looking down to see the great cliffs of the Roofed Forest that dropped down to the wooded coastline. Before him, the marvellous blue-and-white sails of the Eldritchian fleet covered nearly every inch of the vast waters that he could see - a beautiful image out of context, but Nokia’s words rang in Iyo’s head:
If that fleet reaches the shore, the city is lost…
“Kinda losing speed here, guys!” Falksi shouted somewhere to Iyo’s left, and he turned to see the group of winged rogues gliding not far behind him. They were indeed slowing, and as the thieves looked down to the decks of the ships slowly coming into focus, they could see the Eldritchian soldiers beginning to take notice of them and unsling the bows from their backs.
“What do we do here, Ben?” Iyo shouted forward. “We’re gonna be sitting ducks in a second!”
“Dive!”
Benged suddenly angled himself straight downwards, and was soon closing the distance between him and the water with alarming speed. Aboard a ship below, two Covenant archers had nocked arrows and aimed for the plummeting rogue, but before they could loose their arrows, Ben had jerked his weight forward and caught the wind again, his wings once again spreading wide and throwing him out towards the horizon with renewed speed.
“Well, it’s been a good life…” Iyo heard Tyrriel say somewhere behind him, before the rogues all followed Ben’s lead and dove straight downwards. The weightlessness seemed less jarring the second time - for a moment, the Thieflord even found himself grinning at the adrenaline rush - and then he felt the familiar tug on the wing’s straps. This time, he threw his weight forward as it happened, and found himself arcing back up into the sky a short ways, before catching the wind once again and rocketing forwards even faster than before.
The ships below were nothing but a blur now, as he passed over a handful in only a matter of seconds. The navy had surely caught sight of all of them by now, and as Iyo’s speed slowed once again, he saw yet more archers preparing to release a hail of arrows.
“Watch the arrows!” Iyo shouted to the group behind him, but the warning was too late. Zara, who had dropped slightly lower than the other rogues, turned to acknowledge the shout just as an arrow found his throat and nearly punched through to the other side.
“ZARA!” Falksi shouted, veering sharply left as if to try and catch him. But it was too late - Zara grasped at his throat, gasping for breath as his weight shifted and his wings twisted under him, dropping him from the sky like a rock. He was dead before he hit the water.
“Split up!” Iyo shouted, veering himself sharply right to avoid an arrow that would have no doubt ended his life in the same way as Zara’s. As he jerked back to catch the wind again, he looked up to see Ben swooping down towards the deck of a large gunship near the back of the fleet. To its left was a large brig, its tiered sails puffed proudly with the ocean breeze.
It was about this time that Iyo realized he had no idea how to land.
‘I could crash into the water,’ he thought through the panic, ‘but they’d just spear me like a fish in a bucket. If I could just hit those sails at the right angle…’
There was no time to further consider the pros and cons of the plan, as the massive flagship quickly approached. He took a small dive to regain some speed, then angled himself towards the lowest and largest sail of the brig.
Iyo flew into the fullest part of the sail and nearly shot through it - the force of his collision pulling the fabric back to the point of nearly snapping. Then the tension shot back, and he found himself flung backwards from the sail like a trampoline. Having lost the wind completely, his wings folded beneath him uselessly, and he plummeted onto the deck of the ship.
The landing was less than graceful; Iyo landed awkwardly on his shoulder, which let out a resounding crack as he crumpled across the boards of the deck. He cried out in pain, as he scrambled to get to his feet. A nearby Covenant soldier charged across the deck to finish the injured thief before he could regain his footing, and would have likely succeeded, had he not been met by one of Tyrriel’s arrows that shot down into his chest as the rogue swooped by overhead.
As the Thieflord finally got back on his feet, he drew the Shadknife from its scabbard and faced back down the deck of the Eldritchian flagship. Admiral Calixx, adorned in decorated Eldritchian garb, strode out of the captain’s quarters to address the man that had plummeted onto his ship.
“Well, well, well!” the Admiral shouted, as a smile of recognition crossed his face and he drew his own blade from its sheath. “If it isn’t the little rat that stole my airship!”
***
“FALL BACK AND REGROUP!” Xovious shouted.
The Asmundians had managed to push back the advancing Covenant forces from the Arvikian town portal, but watched in dismay as their newly-revived enemies charged back through the west gate not ten minutes later.
Bacchus turned a haggard eye to the General. “We haven’t pushed them back far enough yet… if we fall, they’ll take the portal!”
Xovious turned to survey the ground they’d made - indeed less than ideal. Though it was a momentary relief to see Zara and a wave of newly-risen Asmundians charge out of their portal in that instant. In the age of the Artifact, a battle never truly ended until one side’s portal fell, ceasing the endless stream of reinforcements newly risen and pouring in from Aladra.
“We need to reach their generator, but I don’t know how we’re gonna get outside the walls without…” Xovious trailed off, an idea suddenly coming to him as his gaze fell upon the ruptured chasm outside the city gates where his men had fallen not long ago. He turned to Bacchus. “Those mining tunnels the Covenant blasted outside the east wall… where do they start?”
The miltid smirked, quickly realizing where the General was headed. “Follow me.”
The General whistled to a nearby group of soldiers, who joined them in heading towards a small, nondescript industrial building, as the swarm of newly revived Aurulians and Arvikians charged in to take their place.
***
Inside the palace, Nokia watched from the second floor balcony as the first large section of the barricade downstairs came loose. Through the gap in the rubble, a frenzied Covenant soldier began to climb his way through, undoubtedly the first of many. But Nokia was ready - Ashrune had been sheathed, and his bow slung from his shoulder - and soon the invader’s advance was halted by a well-placed arrow to the neck.
The body didn’t last long after it stopped moving, crammed in amidst the barricade. It soon vanished - but not before the frenzied soldiers behind him had impatiently dragged the twitching body out of the breach, as if nothing more than an inconvenient piece of rubble. In only seconds, two more breaches appeared, and Nokia knew that his arrows would soon be useless. He shot down the three soldiers climbing through the barricade, before slinging his bow back over his shoulder and drawing his greatsword once again.
“Just how many have you got in there, Nokia?” Even through the din of battle, the King’s Champion could make out Kallious’ voice calling to him through the last of the quickly-crumbling barricade. “Don’t tell me it’s just you!”
Nokia had made his way down the main stairs by now, striding quickly to the place where a handful of Hiloians had managed to pull themselves through the rubble. Ashrune made quick work of them, but soon the last of the barricade that had held the palace doors shattered, and the King’s Champion faced the handful of Covenant troops that now stood before him unobstructed - flanking both Kallious and the Bat of Hilo.
“Don’t worry,” Bat said, smiling at Nokia. “We don’t want to kill Sougol. We just want to string him up in the streets of Aladra, so all of Loka can see what happens to false kings…”
***
Iyo held the Shadknife up, still nursing his throbbing shoulder, as Admiral Calixx advanced on him across the deck. “Oh was that your airship?” quipped the Thieflord. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you there that day. You should keep better track of your toys.”
Calixx was swinging his sword downwards towards Iyo’s head before he could finish the thought, and the Thieflord nearly lost his balance as he sidestepped across the deck. For a moment, the pain is shoulder was almost unbearable, but then… strangely, it seemed to dull a bit. The synapses that had been firing in the thief’s head, distracting him with pain, suddenly grew clearer and more focused. Replaced with something familiar. Something… violent.
Iyo felt the Shadknife thrum with bloodthirsty anticipation, as it had done on the fateful night he had murdered Gabrosen in the Grand Hall of Castle Sickholm. He wanted to reject this unholy strength the sword was giving him, offering to him in exchange for the blood of his victims; but he knew in that moment it was his only chance for survival.
Calixx’s sword clashed against the upward blow of the Shadknife, sending sparks of steel flying across the deck of the ship. Again and again, the two men parried and deflected the other’s relentless assault.
“What do you hope to accomplish with this ill-conceived stunt?” Calixx spat out, as the thief scrambled to dodge a blow. “A handful of rats will not stop the might of the Eldritchian fleet-”
The cascade of explosions to the north of the brig drew both of their attentions to the gunship that Benged now stood upon. Along the side of the hull below him, the ship’s two dozen cannons had been fired, and their molten ammunition ripped through the hulls of the nearby warships so savagely, they seemed to sink into the sea almost instantly.
The Admiral turned his attention back to the Thieflord, but Iyo was just a hair quicker. Not enough to land a strike, but enough for him to knock Calixx off-balance and hoist himself up onto the nearby rigging before the Admiral could regain his footing. Iyo cinched the wings of his elytra tight around his shoulders once again, as he pulled himself onto a small mast platform.
Emboldened, he leapt from the mast and his wings caught the air once again, sending Iyo flying low across the water towards another nearby gunship. ‘If I can just get to the other cannons, and flank around…’ but Iyo’s optimism was cut short as he heard Calixx’s frenzied cry behind him:
“Blow the gunships!”
***
Xovious and Bacchus had led the small band of Asmundians through the Arvikian mining tunnels, soon emerging along the base of the chasm where the General and the defending armies had plummeted to their near-deaths. Soon they were scaling their way up the side of the ravine, hand over hand pulling themselves up to the edges of the ruined land outside the city walls.
The miltid was the first one to reach the top, and he quickly scanned around to see if their group had yet been spotted by the Covenant. The few enemy troops in sight seemed to be charging through the gates of Arvik, paying them no mind. And just east through the trees..
“There,” Bacchus said to Xovious, as the general hoisted himself up from the gorge to join the others. Visible through the trees, was a small structure in the middle of the clearing, similar to the generator in Arvik’s square. It too, was guarded by four hulking iron golems.
“Alright, boys, you know the drill,” Xovious said. “Golems first, gather the charge, smash the lamps. And for gods’ sake, don’t--”
But before he could finish, a younger Aurulian near the back had fired an arrow straight through the line of trees. The arrow struck the metallic shell of one of the golems, who turned instantly, its lifeless eyes singling out the foolhardy archer. In one terrifying motion, the thing teleported across the distance, reappearing mere inches from the startled Aurulian. Before the archer could react, the golem’s iron fist smashed through his jaw, breaking the Aurulian’s neck before sending him flying back into the open ravine.
“--don’t shoot at them!” Xovious finished, as he charged the iron monster.
***
Nokiaman stood down two of the Covenant soldiers, parrying their constant attacks as he found himself slowly backed down the main hall. One soldier’s momentary stumble lost him a valuable parry, and Ashrune quickly found its way into his shoulder. The King’s Champion spun on his back foot to meet the other, who had charged in to seize the opportunity - but had not counted on Nokiaman letting go of the greatsword and simply smashing an armored fist into his face. The combination of surprise and brute force sent the man sprawling, unconscious.
He watched as another group of soldiers made their way down the hall towards him. “You cowards never were ones for a fair fight,” Nokia spat at the two commanders behind them.
Kallious let loose a sharp whistle, and the troops stopped their advance. “Is that what you think will get you out of this?” he said, stepping forward. “A fair fight? It didn’t help you in New Ibbish, and it certainly won’t help you now. But if you need to be beaten on your own turf, then far be it from me to deny you that request.”
The Hiloian Captain drew his blade as he stepped forward into the hall, advancing on Nokia. “I do so enjoy putting you down, Nokia,” he continued.
Backed against the wall below the second floor balcony, Nokia raised Ashrune and smirked. “You know what your problem is, Kal?”
Before he could answer, the wooden doors on the balcony above flew open, and a wild-eyed Sougol strode out, sending an arrow down over the railing and into the leg of a Covenant soldier near the back. Kallious looked up, distracted for only a moment… but it was more than enough of an opening for Nokia. He thrust Ashrune forward like a javelin, landing in the chink of armor between the Captain’s chestplate and belt and driving the blade through to the other side. As Kallious’ blade fell from his hand, Nokia tugged the greatsword’s hilt back, pulling the fatally wounded man close.
“You talk too much,” Nokia said, before pulling the sword free and swinging it round with such force that he cleaved Kallious’ head from his body, ending his misery.
King Sougol was back behind the doors of the throne room before the Covenant troops below could nock arrows, and now found themselves frantically re-slinging their bows and unsheathing their swords once again to face Nokiaman. Enraged, the Bat of Hilo drew his own blade and shouted to his troops over the mounting chaos.
“KILL HIM!”
Once again, you did so well that you leave me craving for more. Keep up the great work, Iyo!
