Nineteenth of Harvest

Davos stared at Belkai for what seemed like an eternity before he finally nodded. “How do you feel?”

Belkai frowned as she raised her hands. The same green light shone around her fingers. “It is strange. The power of the Order was never meant to be joined with Narandir’s. But they truly are connected. They draw on similar planes of the Arcane.”

“And Ashelath?”

Belkai took a deep breath. “I can feel him. He is calling me to him.”

“Then you must go,” Davos said, and reached out take her hands. They were surprisingly cold. “If you still walk the path that you promised.”

“I do,” she said softly, and gave him a weak smile. He could see the fear in her eyes, and his stomach churned at the thought of what she would face. “But all is now uncertain. There is much that I have to explain to you, Davos. For now, I must deny him. Then he will come in all of his power. Only then can I defeat him. For a long time Narandir has been hidden from the Arcane. I must end that. I must let him in.”

“What do we do?” Davos asked.

“For now, keep gathering the dead. But when the time comes, get everyone inside. When Ashelath comes, no one is safe.”

“You told me that he has no physical form,” Davos said. “What threat is there?”

“He has his methods,” Belkai told him. “Just get everyone inside.”

“What about you?” Davos asked. She didn’t have a chance to answer. Come to me child, she heard the Tormentor whisper. Come and receive your reward.

She ignored him and kept her focus on Davos. “I will bury Mishtar. He does not deserve to be eaten by the beasts.”

You will not defy me, Ashelath hissed. You will come to me.

“Go,” Belkai told Davos. “He will try to take me. He will fail.”

Davos nodded and walked away, forcing himself not to look back as Belkai screamed and fell to her knees.

Do you dare to defy me? Images flashed through Belkai’s mind. She saw Milton, lifeless and soaked in his blood. She saw the bandits at the farm collapsing under the fury of her violence. She saw the mages from Lustria, their shattered bodies frozen in her mind. You are a child of violence. You are my own. You cannot deny it. She saw the blacksmith from King’s Crossing, whose name she couldn’t recall. You use and abuse, and you have no care for others but what you can gain.

“I am not yours, not anymore,” Belkai murmured, and focused all her power on changing the images in her mind. She pictured her father, who loved her even when her mother had run away. She brought to mind Roulson, who had doubted her, almost killed her, but ultimately gave his life as he tried to save her. She thought of Davos, who saw her darkness and still gave her his heart. I do not abandon those I love, he had said. She remembered the feeling of his body beneath hers in their night of passion. He knew the evil in her but still loved.

Belkai straightened and found a new strength in those who had stood beside her. “I bid you depart, demon. You have no hold here.”

Ashelath roared, but finally she shut him out. There was silence in her head as she caught her breath. She found that her mind was stuck on Davos. Is this love? Whatever it was, it had been the key. But she could feel a difference in the air. By opening the door even an inch to Ashelath, she had ripped apart the forces that had kept Narandir hidden. He would come soon, once he had recovered from the shock of his defeat. He did not know denial, and he would not suffer it to go unpunished.

Already the sky was darkening.

* * *

Despite the masquerade that he presented to Belkai, Ashelath had never dwelt in a realm of pure darkness. He had once roamed the Arcane planes with reckless abandon, a minor yet respected figure among their pantheon. He had used that guise to build up support for his attempt to overthrow the regime and bring the Arcane to a new level of power and glory. Upon his failure, he had been restricted to a palace that he had built on a remote cliffside. It existed mainly for his own aesthetic pleasure, though it was also useful for his labours. There were no secrets there. Ashelath had no truly physical form, appearing instead as a dark cloud that often manifested in a humanoid shape. When he brought Belkai’s mind here, he clouded her vision so all she could see was darkness. But she was never alone, never without an audience of Ashelath’s servants and creations. Ashelath delighted in putting her on display; such power at his beck and call, even as she was oblivious to what was really inside her.

At the centre of the palace’s corridors was a central chamber, essentially a circular platform that hung over a pit lined with cages. Ashelath’s smoky form shot through the halls to the pit, forming itself into the shape of a man as he moved towards his central creation. Before him, one of his servants bowed and took a few panicked steps back. His name was Delogen, the last survivor of an ancient species. He stood like a man but had a bony exoskeleton and two horns that grew from the sides of his head and rose up to almost meet above his scalp. His teeth were like needle points, and he had once been known for his violent tendencies. Now he spent his days following Ashelath and doing his bidding.

“I felt the severance,” Delogen said, keeping his eyes to the ground as Ashelath came to him.

“Is it ready?” Ashelath asked, and Delogen took an uneasy step closer. Before them, a body hung by ropes from the wall. Trolls were such useful beasts, Delogen thought, so ready to be used to form the foundations of Ashelath’s experiments. Or perhaps they were just too stupid to know how to resist.

“It has no consciousness, but the body is certainly strong,” Delogen told him. They may have lived in an immortal state, but things still took time. It was a cruel irony. “Given more time, I will achieve that as well.”

“There will be no need,” Ashelath hissed, and reached out a ‘hand’ to touch the creature. Delogen’s eyes went wide.

“You cannot bind yourself to it!” he said. “If she kills it, you will die.”

Ashelath’s form turned to face him, and from an outstretched arm a line of fire erupted, incinerating a nearby cage along with its occupant.

“The fire of Belamin,” Delogen gasped. The fire dissipated as Ashelath seemed to turn away.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I will burn through to their reality. And then I will destroy her.”

The human form evaporated, and a line of black smoke streamed into the bound creature’s nostrils. Nothing happened at first, then the body bucked and trembled. Delogen fell to his knees.

“My Lord,” Delogen gasped. He felt burning heat and looked up in time to see a burning whip falling towards him. He had no time to scream as his body turned to ash, then was completely removed from existence.

“I owe nothing to mortals,” Ashelath growled, and turned to pick up an axe lying against the wall. Belkai, I curse you.

* * *

Davos looked up as storm clouds gathered above the Forest, circling as if showing the first signs of a tornado. Lightning flashed and thunder echoed from the darkness.

“What is this?” Loranna asked.

“Ashelath, the Tormentor,” Davos said quietly. “He comes for the power that he sent Belkai to find.”

“What do we do?”

Davos looked around at the others milling about, all casting nervous glances at the sky. “Nothing yet. Not until Belkai says the word.”

“Now that you mention it…” Loranna pointed, and Davos turned around to see Belkai approaching. Oblivious to everyone around them, Belkai came up to him, took his head in her hands, and pressed her lips against his. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her body into him. He felt her body melt into his, as if she was trying to become one with him. Tears streamed down Belkai’s face as she kissed him as deeply and passionately as she could. Finally, she took a step back and held his hands up to her chest. She laid her head on his shoulder, his shirt dampened with her tears.

“This is not goodbye,” Davos whispered, kissing her cheek.

“I cannot promise that I will return,” Belkai said, and lifted her head to look him in the eye. “Promise me that you will remember me.”

“I promise,” Davos whispered, and they kissed again, lingering for a moment before Belkai broke away and nodded. She wiped the tears away and looked up at the clouds.

“I love you, Davos. I couldn’t before, but I am free now. And I love you.”

“I love you too.” But his words were washed out by a sudden crash of thunder. All eyes turned to the sky as red light flashed through the clouds and an explosion sounded. A ball of flame sundered the sky and plummeted to the earth, smashing one of Narandir’s towers to pieces as it ploughed into the ground.

“Everyone get inside!” Davos screamed. As he ran for the main palace, he risked a glance back. Belkai stood tall, her daggers back in her hands. Stepping out of the wreckage of the tower came a horrifying beast. Davos felt himself rooted to the ground as he watched it advance. It was easily ten feet tall, towering over Belkai’s seemingly tiny frame. Its skin was grey and leathery, its mouth drawn back in a vicious snarl. Red eyes glared at the Forest around it. In one massive hand it held a flaming whip, in the other an axe as big as Davos.

Loranna grabbed Davos and turned him around.

“Davos! We have to go!”

He heard a voice like the roaring of fire as Loranna hauled him inside and slammed the door shut.

* * *

It was the first time that Belkai had ever seen Ashelath or this physical form. He no longer whispered but spoke in the roar that gave fear even to the other Arcane.

“You are not the first to defy me,” he spat. “But you are by far the weakest. You deny my call, and for what? A dead coward? Some half-breed runt who thinks he loves you? He does not know you, Belkai. No one does.”

“Maybe not,” Belkai said, a strange smile on her face. “But I know your desperation. You have no physical form, Ashelath. You bonded yourself to this form, didn’t you? United yourself with the physical so you could take a hold of Narandir’s power?”

Before he could answer, an arrow smacked against Ashelath’s head, shattering on impact. Without looking, he lashed out with his whip, and the Svaletan archer paid for his courage by turning to ash.

“What I am is your cursed and eternal demise. No one can defend you,” he continued, slowly stepping closer to Belkai. With every step, the grass beneath him was left dead, as if scorched by fire. “No one can save you. You are alone. You always have been.”

“You stand before the Lord of Narandir!” Belkai shouted. “I do not bow to the Tormentor, no matter how foul his curses.”

“You are lord because I made you so!” Ashelath thundered. “I took you from nothing. I gave you purpose. I gave you power.”

“All of that was given me by others,” Belkai said. “You gave me nothing but darkness.”

Ashelath roared and hurled his whip towards her. She didn’t move, but at her silent command two vines sprung from the ground and hauled the whip out of his hand, burying it deep in the dirt. The grass instantly died, unable to contain the defiling of the demon’s weapon. Ashelath laughed, reached out his hand, and the whip cut through the earth and returned to its master.

“Now you will die, worm.”

He took a step forward and swung his axe. Belkai looked like a fool, raising her daggers to fend off the mighty blow. But as her blades contacted with the axe, there was an explosion of blinding light. Ashelath stumbled back, and Belkai found herself thrown to the ground. She threw aside the now shattered blades and regained her feet.

“I have the power of the Brilhardem and Narandir within my veins,” Belkai growled. “I have conquered all who stood before me. I am no slave, I am no worm. I am free.”

“You are dead!”

He charged at Belkai, and she shouted some of the words that she had heard Mishtar whispering in the trees. There was the sound of screeching, then an insect-like creature burst out of the trees and charged at Ashelath. As he turned to face the threat, Belkai put a hand on the ground and felt it ripple. Massive vines as thick as a man is high tore out of the ground and wrapped themselves around Ashelath. Each time he broke free of one, another would take its place. The monster reached him, slashing at him with sharp claws and deadly teeth. He swatted it aside and crushed it with his axe, and turned to face Belkai as he snapped the last of the vines.

“You have no power over me,” he growled. “You will bow. And Narandir will burn.”

Belkai sent more vines at him, then shut her eyes as she felt him approaching. She heard the rush of wings as more of the Blackwings whipped past to attack him. She could feel him swatting them aside like flies, could feel the vines as they were torn asunder by his might. She took a breath and forced her heart to slow. Time to rely on your instincts, girl, she told herself. No longer did she only have her own ability to reach out. She found that she could see from the perspective of the Blackwings as they rushed through the sky. She could feel the earth as it shook and suffered under Ashelath’s steps. With her eyes still shut, she ducked as Ashelath swung his axe towards her, snatching up a Svaletan sword from the grass. She rolled under his legs, then opened her eyes and leapt up onto his back. She rammed the blade against his neck, the same spot where his damnable scar laid on her own. He roared in fury, but the blade simply broke apart without scratching his skin. He reached back, took hold of her, and tossed her to the ground. She rolled onto her back and watched as he stopped above her and levelled his axe with her throat.

“You could have ruled the Kingdom, Belkai,” he said. “Now you will die with it.”

She smiled at him. “It was love that freed me, Ashelath. The very opposite of all that you are and possess. You should know that before the end.”

With the power of Narandir came an understanding of nature that she had never comprehended. She seized the flames from his whip and cast them into his face. He roared, this time with agony, and staggered backwards. He dropped the whip to the earth, and it was instantly buried deep underground. Belkai leapt forwards, keeping the fire burning in his face. His grip on the axe was weakening, and she focused the Blackwings’ attack on that arm. They sliced and clawed at his skin, and as it slowly weakened, Belkai was able to reach out and snap his wrist. The axe slammed into the earth, and Belkai summoned two vines to lift it up and cast it into the air. A sudden burst of wind seized it and drove it into Ashelath’s chest. The fire dissipated, and he fell to his knees in sudden agony. Belkai ducked under a swinging fist and put her hands on his forehead.

“I curse you, Ashelath, the Damned Tormentor, and I deny your claim over this soul,” she hissed, and jamming her eyes shut, she focused all her power and imploded his skull. His skin slackened and dark blood ran from his eyes and nose. Without another sound, he dropped to the earth. Flames burst up around him, and soon nothing was left but ash. For a brief moment a dark mist rose from the pile, but it too was caught up in the flames and disappeared.

Ashelath, Lord of Serpents, the Tormentor, was no more.

Belkai wavered for a moment, then collapsed to the earth and everything went black.