“Lexa, Kia, Claire,” Arkk said, addressing the gremlin and two dark elves. “We’re almost ready.”
“You’re finally back and all we get is an almost?” Lexa, with bright red hair held down by a thick scarf tied around her head, rubbed her small hands up and down her arms, shivering. “Why aren’t we just teleporting in?”
“First, while I’m fairly certain the inquisitors know, I don’t want to advertise more than necessary. Second, according to Hawkwood, the first thing any competent commander does when setting down is get the casters to set up proper wards—including wards on planar magic since no army wants a demon summoned in their midst. Finally, it is a bit too flashy. They have thousands of people. Even if we aim the portal behind some tent somewhere, someone will notice and raise the alarm.”
“Alright, fine,” Lexa snapped. “Why aren’t we teleporting here when it is time and spending the rest of this night back in the warmth of the keep instead of freezing my tits off?”
“Same third reason. There is no moon tonight. Even small flashes from the teleportation would be easy to see for Evestani’s watchers.”
Lexa glowered, grinding her sharp teeth together. “You could have at least brought that walking furnace with you…”
Arkk just shook his head. He didn’t like leaving Agnete alone. For all the intensity of her flames, she was only human. She could be distracted, she could be exhausted, and she could be overwhelmed. Nevertheless, her destructive potential couldn’t be understated, thus warranting using her elsewhere.
Namely, with Inquisitrix Astra. He didn’t like leaving Agnete with them either. Were it not for Astra making a solemn vow on the Light itself that Agnete would come to no harm from them for the duration of the evening, he wouldn’t have agreed at all. But he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing what two purifiers could accomplish when working together.
“Claire, Kia. You two good to go?”
The two dark elves opened their eyes as one. Claire had muted brown hair, ragged and unkempt all around her face. It didn’t look like she had put any work toward trimming it and preferred to hack it off with a rusty blade whenever it reached her shoulders. A few locks hung down over her face, partially hiding her wide, icy blue eyes that were sharp enough to cut glass. Her skin, an ashen grey, blended well with the dark of the night.
Kia, although her skin roughly matched Claire’s, had a golden blonde color to her hair, currently matted with mud to diminish any reflecting light and tied in a neat ponytail. With her hair tied back, she showed off the entirety of her long ears. She had enough piercings to forge a small sword.
Neither shivered or trembled because of the cold. They weren’t even wearing as thick of cloaks as Lexa was, just a thin gambeson and mail that had to be frosty to the touch.
Kia put on a radiant smile that showed off her midnight-black mouth when Arkk looked in her direction. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Although they had black tongues, mouths, noses, fingernails, and even internal organs, that was not where the ‘dark’ distinction of their name came from. Arkk had, perhaps embarrassingly, asked upon meeting one that passed through Langleey Village years ago. The old elf had laughed and said that no, they weren’t elves at all, they just bore superficial similarities. Mostly in possessing pointed ears. Dark elf homelands weren’t somewhere they could reach anymore but its name, ‘Undir Myrkrid’, translated to something like the Deep Dark. Over time, people started calling them dark elves.
Arkk, knowing what he knew now, wondered if that unreachable home wasn’t another plane that had been cut off from the world because of the Calamity.
“We are quite well and eagerly anticipating the fight,” Kia said, her tone just a hint too cheerful. She was the only one of the two to ever speak. They came as a pair and rarely left the other’s side. Kia was the personable one, always happy to chat, happy to meet people, and generally just happy to the point where Arkk was sure that she was faking it.
Claire, on the other hand, could talk, as she had said her name and answered a few other questions during his interview, but only did so if it seemed like an absolute necessity. Despite that, Arkk had watched the dark elf take a bow and arrow to a swallow in flight that he hadn’t even seen until it dropped to the ground with an arrow wound through its chest. Ilya was a good marksman but he doubted she could have managed that feat.
Arkk grimaced as he thought of Ilya. Almost reflexively, he checked in on her through her employee link. He could tell through the link that, while she was getting healthier, she was still not fully healed. At the moment, it looked like she was trying to exercise, lifting a small stack of books repeatedly. Though she had to pause as Alya entered the room and immediately set to a hurried speech—probably berating her for exerting herself while still wounded.
He wasn’t sure why Alya cared now all of a sudden. It left a bitter taste in his mouth just thinking about her strutting around as some high advisor to the Duke while leaving Ilya behind in the village. He hadn’t actually given her a chance to explain herself. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear an explanation. All of his indignant anger would feel… petty if it turned out that she had a good reason.
Then again, what reason could there be for not even sending a single letter?
Shaking his head, Arkk tried hard to suppress a shiver creeping its way up his arms. Loathe as he was to give Lexa validity to her complaints, it was freezing out tonight. Sitting down, watching, and waiting, was the worst. Movement kept the body warm.
He could only imagine the complaints the gorgon might have if he had tried to get them out here. They did not handle cold well.
Claire pushed off from the tree she had been leaning against. The dark elf’s ears twitched as her sharp eyes looked down from the low foothills of the larger of the Elm mountains.
“It is time,” she said in a whisper so quiet that Arkk wasn’t sure if she had spoken or if he had just imagined her words on the wind.
Before he could ask, a bright orange light forced him to squint and turn aside before it ruined his night vision.
A gout of flame surged through the far side of the Evestani encampment. Not quite in the encampment itself but just outside it. Agnete and the inquisitors were likely taking out those on watch, unable to proceed further inside without either surrounding themselves or causing a commotion.
“Alright,” Arkk said. “Let’s move.”
“Finally,” Lexa groused. “Come close and remember, you can step on twigs or whatever because that is the twig making the noise, not you. You speak, you sneeze, you even blink too loud and the effect will break.”
Arkk looked at the two dark elves as they approached the small gremlin. Kia smiled and nodded while Claire just stared.
“Do it,” he said.
Lexa closed her eyes and clapped her hands together. She drew in a deep breath and then, all in that same breath, intoned, “Oh rahasia malam yang mendalam, selubungi tubuh kami dalam kegelapan dan biarkan musuh kami memandang kami dalam ketidaktahuan.”
Arkk looked around, back and forth. The orange light of the fire faded as a dark shadow seemed to envelop the group. The sound of yelling soldiers and the distant clangs of metal scraping against metal faded to a numb sensation in Arkk’s ears. Even the rustling of the trees in the faint breeze died out and vanished.
The sound of heartbeats started up. Three sets of thump-thumps pounding inside their chests. Lexa’s heart, small though it was, just a little faster and a little louder than that of the elves. With a frown, Arkk looked down at his own chest. He couldn’t hear anything coming from him. Was that something to do with the spell… or…
Claire, after looking around at the sudden silence, spread her lips into a feral grin. She looked to Kia, who gave her a jaunty nod, before grinning more. The elf dashed off, a small portion of the dark envelope following after her as she ran. Kia offered Arkk a wave before following after with her sword in hand.
Lexa drew a pair of daggers, one held tight in her main hand while the other looked like she was ready to fling it. The latter spun around her finger three times before she tossed it in the air, caught it by the blade, and offered it to Arkk.
Fingers on the hilt, Arkk accepted the dagger before heading down the hill toward the Evestani encampment.
----------------------------------------
The crystal ball was still useless.
Inside the Evestani bivouac, Arkk could see clearly. They had not filled the area with that thick white mist that he saw while scrying. The camp was totally clear to the point where he could see from one end all the way to the flames and inverted spheres that kept erupting on the opposite side.
The goal of the operation was not to destroy the enemy army. There were too many. That would be a job for the soldiers and Hawkwood’s men, assuming the events of the evening didn’t rout the Evestani troops. Tonight, the goal was to remove the enemy’s ability to bombard Elmshadow with magic.
With two purifiers and two inquisitors running hit-and-run strikes on the far side of the assembled mass and Lexa’s spell concealing his group, Arkk had little trouble entering the camp. It wasn’t perfect. Kia had slit the throats of two guards who had been using a spell that had detected them. One managed to shout out before she got to him. In all the commotion, it went ignored or unheard. Either way, they were now leaving behind bodies.
Even with their haphazard attempt at hiding the corpses, it wouldn’t be long before Evestani realized that someone had infiltrated their group.
He considered it good fortune that he found what they were looking for after only fifteen minutes. At least, he was fairly certain. He hadn’t been able to get close just yet.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Despite the periodic explosions in the distance, a ring of guards stood around a wooden platform. It looked like a series of planks, each topped with brass segments of a ritual circle, had been assembled into a full circle. The planks could be folded up onto each other for transport, allowing them to set up the ritual circle anywhere they needed. The most ingenious part of it all was the targeting array. A segment of the circle almost identical to the teleportation rituals that he made such frequent use of. Rather than having to be drawn out and calculated when constructing the ritual circle—something Vezta could do almost instantly given the coordinates were relative to the stars above—the brass segments of the targeting array could be moved and adjusted, changed to fit the new locations on the fly rather than having to be reforged.
The rest of the ritual circle wasn’t that complex. Arkk had to draw on everything Zullie had taught him over the last few months just to parse what it did. The flow of magic, coming from four ritualists, first flowed through the targeting array before the command array, a material conjuration targeting stone, took over. Counter-gravity magics kept the conjured mass at the target point until the conjuration finished at which point all magic ceased. The rocks would fall and anyone underneath would die.
Large and powerful, making use of several spellcasters, but simple in end function. Most of the power of the spell went into the conjuration of material—a fairly intensive process according to what he knew from Zullie.
This was the boulder-dropping array. Destroying it beyond repair might stop the assaults. It depended on whether or not any of the spellcasters present knew enough to draw out a new one in the dirt or if they were all uneducated ritual batteries.
The original plan had been to kill as many spellcasters as possible. Thus far, Arkk hadn’t seen anyone who looked like a spellcaster, just a lot of martial soldiers. All the spellcasters might have been on the other side of the camp, trying to deal with the inquisitors. Purifier Tybalt was to focus on them if that happened but they had been hoping that most of the spellcasters would remain behind near the origin of the bombardment attacks.
Arkk looked to Claire and gave her a curt nod of his head. The marksman drew back her bow in a move that looked awkward with one arm up and over her head. It did let her stay crouched low. There wasn’t much cover in the bivouac. Only a handful of tents had been set up, mostly around the center of the encampment. Around the circle, several carts were strewn about. Likely how they had transported the large planks of wood for the ritual circle. That gave some small privacy to this area but nothing that would last long. Arkk was counting on the commotion in the distance keeping their activities quiet. At least for now.
Claire loosed the arrow. It stayed in flight for a split second but she had already nocked and loosed a second arrow. Both slipped between the sides and the protruding nose guards of Evestani’s helmets, driving deep into the skulls of the two soldiers she hit. One collapsed instantly, twitching and thrashing on the ground. The other clasped hands to his face. He started to scream but a third arrow through his other eye made him drop to the ground.
The commotion didn’t go unnoticed. The other guards around the circle didn’t shout out immediately, perhaps in shock or just not sure what had happened. Most had their eyes on the distance.
It didn’t matter. Daggers from the darkness drove into the throats of two of them while Kia, swinging her sword in two hands, lopped the head off the last guard.
Arkk eyed the area, straining his ears for footsteps or cries of alarm while trying to ignore the gurgling of one of the ones with a dagger in his throat. Lexa, jumping on the downed guard, swiftly dragged her dagger across the rest of that one’s neck, silencing him.
There were footsteps but only in the distance. A lot of shouting and orders being given. Nothing to indicate that anyone noticed anything amiss with this little corner of the camp.
Still, time limit.
Arkk hurried forward with Claire hot on his heels. Kia was already dragging one of the still twitching bodies over next to one of the carts, making sure it was out of sight. Lexa was helping, though her shorter stature made the task difficult until Claire moved over and grabbed the guard’s heels.
While they worked, Arkk looked down at the wooden planks and the shaped brass ritual circle. The craftsmanship was clearly on another level. The smooth fastenings keeping the brass to the polished wood, the latches keeping the wooden planks together that fit seamlessly into the overall ritual circle, and the gleam of the brass in the light of the distant fires… It almost seemed a shame to destroy. Arkk knew more than enough ways to make an explosion. It wouldn’t be hard to burn the wood at the very least. A fire might not ruin the brass, however, and that was the really important part.
Moving over to the targeting array, Arkk crouched down. It was… amazing. Toothed gears and easily grasped knobs allowed easy adjustment. It removed all calculations from the process and offered fine-tuning to a point where Arkk could hit the gate, the keep, or even a specific house within Elmshadow.
Or…
Looking overhead, Arkk noted the positions of the relevant stars. Regular stars. He shuddered a moment, recalling that shattered sky that Vezta could see, before looking back down to the ritual circle. He twisted the knobs and adjusted the levers, double-checking with the sky twice more before finishing. Then, he moved over to the side and pulled out a small metal rod. Using it, he quickly inscribed a transportation ritual, aiming the coordinates next to the circle already in the basement of the Elmshadow keep.
Once finished, Arkk stood and motioned the others closer. He couldn’t speak without breaking their stealth spell but he was fairly sure that they got what he wanted through a quick miming session.
Lexa, Claire, and Kia split off, heading to the ritualist positions. Neither dark elf was capable of casting spells naturally but the employee link between him and them should suffice for this spell. The rock conjuration would drain them but as long as they only activated the ritual once, they would come out alright.
Giving each a look and making sure they were ready, Arkk knelt and planted a hand on the center of the circle. He pushed his magic out, slowly at first before ramping it up until the brass began to glow with a faint golden light. The light spread across the ritual circle, joining with light from the other three spots before funneling into the targeting array. From there, the conjuration began.
It took two minutes. Two minutes of profuse sweating, eyes darting around, fully expecting someone to come to check on the golden light that now illuminated the area. Perhaps they were all used to it—it was their ritual, after all. When the light snuffed out and the ritual finished, Arkk had to hold in his sigh lest it break their cloaking spell.
Nothing happened for a long moment. Arkk quickly started unlatching the wooden planks, twisting simple locks and brass ties to free the boards. Lexa helped after watching him for a moment. Claire and Kia, panting heavily, didn’t move to assist for a long moment as they struggled to regain their stamina. With the urgency of the situation, they forced themselves to move well before they looked alright to do so, helping in hauling each piece over to the transportation circle he had drawn.
A ground-shattering quake threw Arkk off his feet before he could unlatch the third plank.
Bits of loose earth, dirt, and mud crashed down around him, falling in small pieces like rain. Painful rain.
He hadn’t seen it drop. Perhaps if he had been looking up rather than down. Even then, in the dark, moonless night, he doubted he would have seen the boulder falling. From the cries and shouts and fresh waves of alarm that rippled through the encampment in the wake of the quake, he figured he had hit his target.
A house-sized boulder should have crushed the central tent of the bivouac. Probably the surrounding area as well. The rain of dirt likely blasted outward around the impact site, hopefully decimating the army. Or at least its commanders and leaders. Given the commotion with the purifiers, none might have been present. Still, at the very least, he hoped that was where they had kept their supplies.
Sieges, those of the drawn-out variety, revolved around food. That went for both the defenders and the attackers. If their stores of food were destroyed, they would have to deliver food through their supply route, likely not nearly as defended as a full army of ten thousand soldiers.
A strike against Evestani’s supply lines was something to talk about with Hawkwood later. For now, Arkk didn’t even bother looking up to see the results of the boulder drop. As soon as the rain of mud settled, he got up and continued stacking plank after plank onto the teleportation circle.
With the final plank stacked, Arkk bent and pushed magic into the ritual circle.
On the other end, in the pitch-black cellar, he ordered the lesser servant who had been ready to destroy the teleportation circle to begin moving the planks away from the destination. At the same time, he spoke, breaking the shadowy envelope that hid his presence.
“Slave Natum.”
A fresh lesser servant pulsed and bulged into existence, squirming and unfolding from wherever it had come from. Kia took a hasty step back, looking at the thing with undisguised revulsion. Claire just stared. Her sharp eyes roamed over the servant like she was trying to decide the best way to kill it.
“We’re getting out of here. Kia, you first,” Arkk said, pointing to the circle.
The dark elf didn’t hesitate to step closer to the servant, though she kept her eyes on it right up until Arkk pulsed his magic and she vanished through the teleportation circle. Claire moved into her place without needing a prompt and vanished as well.
As Lexa vanished to the keep, Arkk felt a chill run down his spine. The hairs along his arms tingled and stood on end. Some sixth sense screamed at him to move aside.
Bright golden light struck the lesser servant. It shriveled to ash before the light faded.
Arkk whirled around. “Electro Deus,” he intoned, flinging a high-powered bolt of lightning straight at the only person around.
A young boy. His head, shaved bald, had bright golden paint—or tattoos—in intricate designs all around the crown of his head. A Pious of the Golden Order? He couldn’t be older than Hale. And yet, with a casual backhand, he batted the bolt of lightning aside. It struck one of the carts around the former ritual site, setting it ablaze. It came with a cost, however, blasting off the boy’s arm at the elbow. Blood dripped and muscle hung loose, twitching and flexing from where it hung from the boy’s dangling skin. The stump of bone protruding was even smoking.
Not that it looked like the boy cared. He looked down at his missing arm with no change to his facial expression. Then he looked up at Arkk, ignoring his arm as if it were nothing more annoying than a small scratch gotten from a summer day of roughhousing.
His eyes glowed a bright gold, a familiar gold. The same color as the assassins from the Duke’s party.
“[You]/[interloper]|[stand before]/[exist within]/[experience]|[self]/[deity]/[GOLD]/|[bow]/[submit]/[cower mortal].”
Something struck Arkk. Nothing physical. Nothing magical either. It was just those words. He had heard the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE] many times in the past from Vezta. That part wasn’t unfamiliar to him. It was the bit where the being identified itself. [GOLD]. Something about that concept slammed into Arkk’s chest with the force of a bull. But instead of pain, there was awe.
This thing before him wasn’t like Vezta.
Vezta was certainly something from outside the regular world.
But this?
“[Understand]/[comprehend]|[you]/[interloper]| are little more than [meat]/[insect]/[irrelevant]. Die,” he said, dipping out of the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE] in his words. Arkk lacked the time to question why. The boy lifted his hand, aiming straight for Arkk’s chest.
Arkk stood there, watching as a golden light gathered at the boy’s fingertips. Tears welled in his eyes. Not of fear or sadness, but of joy. Such a beautiful golden light. And it was coming for him, all for him. It was—
Something jolted Arkk. Some distant tug across the link of Fortress Al-Mir. A pull—a warning, snapping him out of a discordant revelry. The malignant golden glow at the tips of the boy’s fingers was coming for him and it was, in no method of description, beautiful.
“Slave Natum,” he snapped as he jumped aside.
The golden beam skimmed past his shoulder, striking some poor soldier who had been coming up from behind that Arkk hadn’t even noticed.
Arkk stepped on the teleportation circle and threw his magic into it.
He reappeared in the dark of Elmshadow Keep’s cellar.
The poor lesser servant, so swiftly brought into existence back at the Evestani encampment, opened one of its many maws and swallowed the teleportation circle whole. Right before a golden beam struck it and Arkk felt its connection to Fortress Al-Mir vanish.
Arkk stumbled back into the cellar, back hitting hard against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. Lexa rushed over, small hands grabbing his arms as the short gremlin did her best to support him.
“Are you okay? I saw a light,” she said, trying to pull him off the wall. It didn’t work until Kia came over and planted a hand on his other shoulder.
“I’m fine. I just…” He took a deep breath, conjured all his willpower, and forced himself to balance properly. He took a second breath, swallowing a lump in his throat. “We need to signal the inquisitors. Immediately.” He tried for the door only to stumble. Kia caught him. “Then… I need to talk to Hawkwood. There is something out there…”