The road to Silvermoore was a bad one. A persistent rain had left it little more than a strip of clammy mud that baked hard when the sun came out. Winding back through the Prairie of Buzzards, the rill of mire crossed the Ebon River.
The Ebon was barely worthy of the title of river; a slow, broad stream that dribbled through the feverish landscape until it vanished into a broad lake. It was so shallow, they could wade across it at low tide without getting their knees wet.
Here, the reeds grew thick and long-necked frogs with leathered wings flapped loudly, their tongues catching weed rats and dead-man spiders, named for their thick, stubby legs and the discolored blue hue of their carapace, which resembled the gnarled fingers of a corpse.
Still a day’s journey away from Silvermoore, they could see a trickle of hazy black smoke rising toward the sky in the distance. Alianna pushed them on, their pace one of exhausted desperation.
They rode through the night as the distant pounding of war drums, faint at first, grew louder. Soon, they could hear the shouts and cacophony of battle. On they rode, through the moonless night, to the soundtrack of war.
As day broke, they crested a broad hillock to the north of the village. Alianna stopped short. They could see Silvermoore now, a small hamlet with a gray, stone keep at its center. Larger than Edgebreak, it was still a trivial settlement compared to Whitespire, which made the sight of the attack all the more horrifying.
Tens of thousands of armor-clad soldiers stood in military formation to the south of the town. Catapults and ballistas were firing a constant barrage of boulders and rough-hewn logs at the central tower. The impact rattled their teeth as the heavy missiles clattered and spun off the walls, crashing into the surrounding squat houses.
“What is this madness?” Alianna said. Her eyes narrowed. A familiar figure floated in the air above the army, a globe of electricity crackling around her form. The Queen of Storms.
Alianna pulled her spear free, and charged.
“Alianna!” Hicket yelled. “You are but one against an army!”
If Alianna heard him, she ignored him.
Hicket drew his oversized blade. “To honor, and ruin.” He charged after his commander.
“That’s suicide!” Sam shouted after him.
“Since when do you care if he dies?” Charlie asked.
“I’m deeply offended. I have always cared about Hickey.”
“Hicket.”
“That’s what I said. Hicket,” Sam said, gazing up at the Queen of Storms, who swooped across the battlefield toward the charging Alianna. “This has to be the final boss, right?”
Charlie smiled. “Sure would be a nice time for Gadium the White to return.”
They waited expectantly, but were only greeted by the unending sounds of battle and their own disappointment.
“Are we really doing this?” Nate asked as the three friends all exchanged terrified glances. “You both know I’m not a physical boy. Was always more of an indoor child.”
Charlie grinned. “I always thought you looked more like the kind of person who would unapologetically fart during a crowded, hot-yoga session.”
“You are my worst friend.”
“If we don’t help, they’ll be killed for sure,” Sam said.
Nate studied the battlefield. “Charging in headlong to try and fight an entire army seems like a mistake. And is definitely a violation of the first law.”
Sam sighed. She had grown to hate the first law, and the disgusting feelings it evoked every time she put her own safety above that of her friends. But she knew Nate was right. Despite their improvements over the past months, throwing themselves at an entire army was a ridiculous proposition. It was suicide.
Moving quickly across the flat field from the west was a small contingent of soldiers, their armor crudely covered in chunks of straw and clods of dirt. They ran on foot, crouched in the grass to flank Alianna and Hicket as their clackers bounded across the sodden grass. “But maybe we can at least stop them from falling into a trap.”
Sam and Charlie followed his gaze. The soldiers were moving fast, sprinting across the grassland. A precise count was impossible, but it had be at least fifty of the heavily armored conscripts.
“We should try and warn them,” Sam said, drawing her spear. “In case we don’t get to them in time.”
Nate flexed his fingers nervously. “How?”
“I dunno, whistle or something?”
“Whistle? Why do you want to whistle?”
“I think she wants to summon the Von Trap Family,” Charlie said.
“Keep it up, Charlie, and I’m going to kick you in the penis.”
Charlie was horrified.
“Right in it!”
Gri wordlessly moved her clacker between Sam and Charlie, glowering at Sam. Charlie leaned forward, his face just edging past Gri’s enormous bicep as he grinned wildly at Sam.
Nate sighed. “Great plan, guys. This is going great. How can we signal Alianna if we haven’t agreed with her on what the signal will be?”
“So what do you propose?” Sam said.
“Let’s go kill some bad guys, I guess?”
“Yeah, alright,” Charlie said.
“Wow,” Sam shook her head. “Quite the stirring speech there, Theodin King.”
“Whatever,” Nate grumbled as he reared his clacker and charged.
The four of them thundered across the battlefield, their clackers kicking up mud and turf.
The Queen of Storms soared high into the air over the keep, twisting and spinning as a black cloud formed in the sky, angry and treacherous. Alianna screamed curses, still too far away to do anything else.
The air tingled and the acrid taste of acid filled their mouths. A blinding series of flashes disoriented them as lighting crashed into the castle, a spattering of rapid strikes. They could hear the people within scream and shout as the stonework groaned and collapsed. Stone and dust and splintered wood clattered to the ground.
The lightning continued to pound the rubble, heating and melting stone into mounds of glowing slag. The screams were silenced.
The opposing army began to cheer, an animalistic roar as they beat their spears and shields. The cacophony gave way to a thrumming rhythm as they stomped in unison, chanting the word “death” over and over.
Looking east, Nate saw another patrol of soldiers moving towards Alianna. He wondered how many more laid in wait, crouched in the grass like a viper poised to strike.
To his relief, he saw Alianna veer toward this new force, Hicket on her heels. Nate was confident she would make quick work of her pursuers, and her change in direction meant they would overtake the other battalion before the trap could be sprung and their retreat cut off.
In an instant, they were on top of the soldiers, crashing headlong into them with their clackers. Nate had yet to see one of the clackers in battle. It was terrifyingly effective. Their sharp chitinous legs crushed through metal armor, and their heavy bodies knocked soldiers to the ground, where they were trampled to pieces.
Gri roared in glee and dove from her mount into a pile of terrified soldiers, who scurried away in terror. She swung her great axe, severing limbs and heads with the kind of disturbing delight with which a toddler stomps on ants.
The soldiers wore thick iron helmets crested with a half-moon shape that extended from the forehead, and chain armor that jangled. Each held a long sword and shield, both crudely shaped and full of dents and dings from previous battles.
They were hulking brutes, their arms thick and strong, their posture hunched. As they attacked, they made a strangled squeal sound not unlike a pig being slaughter, but lower and more guttural.
As the three slid from the back of their mounts, they were surrounded by the chaos of pitched battle. Weapons and bodies crashed together, blood spilled and sprayed. It was terrifying and overwhelming and exhilarating.
Nate was shocked at how swiftly savage the exchanges were. There was no elegant parry and dodge and repost; no back and forth dance between combatants. It was kill or be killed. Death was swift and brutal.
Sam was a dervish of violence. Her spear, guided by her connection to the Aether, found the gaps in the armor of her enemies with lightning speed and precision. A quick thrust up into the armpit, a spin and slice through the neck gap of another, a cut deep into the hip joint of a third. The bodies began to pile up around her.
Nate was far less effective, swinging mostly by instinct and panic to knock aside a wild swipe, or to step out of the way of a charging enemy who crashed to the ground. Nate stabbed the enemy twice, once in the butt and then, realizing that wasn’t a particularly fatal blow, again at the base of skull.
Henry Potter ran in small circles, his wooden arms flailing behind him as he made explosive sounds with his mouth.
Charlie swung his mace recklessly, his arm already exhausted. He definitely needed to do more cardio if he was going to do more than hide and heal during a fight. After a few minutes, he could barely raise his hand above his shoulder, and his blows were little more than soft reassuring pats to his enemies.
Only his heavy, towering shield had prevented his untimely demise, and he was quickly becoming too tired to continue. He grew sluggish.
Three soldiers pressed against him, shoving and swinging their blades in a high arc in an attempt to hit his head over the top of his shield. Stepping backwards, his heel caught on a clump of grass. He fell flat on his back.
His pursuers laughed, a gnarly, gurgling sound. One of them pounced, his blade leading the way, but was caught mid-air by the powerful jaws of Neekerbreeker.
Neekerbreeker shook the soldier ferociously in its maw, sending his helmet flying. The soldier’s face was a deep green hue, its nose shaped like a pig. It had two long tusks among its sharp bottom teeth.
“Orcs?”
Neekerbreeker sliced the orc in half, and stomped a sharp leg through the chest of another. Gri’s axe came down, splitting the iron helm of the third attacker and continuing down to his sternum.
She put a foot against the back of the fallen enemy, and angrily yanked her weapon free of the corpse. Neekerbreeker clicked and nuzzled Charlie affectionately as he climbed to his feet. “Yes, yes, you saved my life. Thank you. I still think you’re gross, though.”
Gri turned and roared at the handful of soldiers that remained, and they squealed and fled. The skirmish was over.
“Everyone okay?” Nate said, wiping the blood from his face with his hand.
“I’m okay,” Sam said.
Charlie nodded. “Me too.”
“Gri, you’re bleeding.”
Gri glanced down at the long gash along her right calf, deep enough to expose muscle.
She spat on one of the nearby corpses. “Gri fine.”
“I thought Doctor Professor said that orcs had been wiped out eons ago,” Charlie said, poking one of the dead bodies with his foot.
“He did,” Sam said. “So I’m guessing this is going to be a problem.”
A thunderclap rattled Nate’s teeth. The Queen of Storms floated above Alianna and Hicket, who were surrounded by a mound of dead orcs.
“Let’s go,” Sam said, climbing onto Hedorah.
Nate awkwardly clambered onto Garthim. He wasn’t sure if it was the after-effects of the battle, the effort of climbing, or perhaps a dinner that didn’t agree with him, but as he threw his leg over his mount, a roaring fart escaped his body.
There was a moment of silent shock.
“Did you just fart?” Sam asked.
“What? I don’t know what-”
“Either you farted, or two trombones are having a shouting match in your pants,” Charlie said.
“I don’t…” Nate fell silent, his cheeks burned.
Sam laughed. “You know, some people say true love is being able to fart in front of a girl.”
“That can’t possibly be true,” Charlie said.
“Why not?”
“Because my parents hated each other, but one time I walked in on my Dad taking a dump while my Mom sat in the bathtub not three feet away.”
Sam stared at him in abject horror.
Nate clicked his tongue, and charged toward Alianna and the Queen of Storms, silently uttering a prayer that either Sam would forget what just happened, or he would die heroically on the battlefield and thus never have to face his shame.
The Queen of Storms hovered ten feet off the ground, her shimmering blue hair swirled in the air around her. Alianna and Hicket both stood some twenty feet away. The air was tense, ripe with violent potential.
“I do not wish for war,” the Queen said, blue tears leaking from beneath her white blindfold. “We could be sisters on the battlefield, Alianna. As we once were.”
“Did you make the same offer to Elred? Before you butchered her?”
“I did. But she was stubborn. Will you not listen to reason?”
“Reason? What you call ‘reason,’ I call ‘madness!’ You have betrayed your oaths and covenants! You have betrayed your family!”
“I have no desire to fight you.”
“I have every-“
“Alianna!” Nate shouted, as they rode up to her. “Alianna, there are orcs.”
Alianna’s eyes did not leave the Queen of Storms. “I know.”
“Did you guys think that the orcs had been wiped out?”
“Yes.”
“So isn’t this kind of a big deal?”
“Yes, but I-“
“Do you think there are goblins too?”
“I don’t know, but-“
“An army of orcs and goblins would be bad news, don’t you think?”
Alianna glared at him. “In your world, do they teach you not to interrupt people?”
Sam pulled Nate by the arm away from Alianna. “Maybe shut up now?”
Alianna turned back to the Queen of Storms. There was an awkward silence.
Alianna sighed. “Where were we?”
“I believe you were yelling at me for leaving the Soldiers of the Sun and betraying the oaths and covenants you so desperately cling to.”
“Right.” Her spear crackled with white energy. “It is time we tested your mettle, Uvesh.”
The Queen laughed. “Uvesh. No one has called me by that name since…” Her sentence trailed off.
“Since you stole the Heart of Trees and betrayed the Quorum of Trees? Betrayed us all?” Alianna’s voice seethed.
The Queen of Storms drew the sword from her back. As she unsheathed it, reality seemed to warp and bend around her for a moment. The black blade was shattered, fragments floating in the air, yet seemingly held in place and connected by some unseen force.
Sam couldn’t tell what it was made from; it looked like solid shadow, as if the light around it simply fell into nothingness. Yet the weapon glowed with the same blue energy that ran through the Queen’s body.
“Stole?” She studied the blade. “You think I stole the Heart of Trees?”
She held the hilt of her sword to her face in salute to her opponent, then swung it easily to her side.
“Just remember, Alianna, you chose the path of violence this day.”
“I’m not the one who used an army to slaughter an entire village.”
Alianna charged, screaming. The Queen of Storms waved her arm, and a series of lightning bolts descended from the sky. Alianna pivoted and dodged as she ran. Sam charged forward, a bolt of electricity narrowly missing her left shoulder.
The rest were not so lucky, as several bolts struck the ground in rapid succession, tossing them through the air like rag dolls, spinning and crashing heavily to the ground.
Alianna continued her charge. The Queen of Storms met her. The onslaught took Sam’s breath away. They tumbled and danced, parried and deflected in the elegant choreography of war.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Sam circled behind the combatants, waiting for an opportunity to enter the whirl of weapons. Time slowed as she concentrated on her connection to the Aether. Her heart leapt. She saw it. Her opening. Diving forward, she drove her spear low at the back of the Queen’s left knee.
The Queen spun her sword over and behind her head, deflecting the spear. But this left her right thigh vulnerable, and Alianna’s spear bit deep into the meat of her leg.
Sam watched in fascination as the droplets of blood sprayed and wobbled in the air before spattering on the green grass below.
The Queen brought her leg up and caught Sam square in the stomach, knocking the breath from her lungs, then hit Alianna so hard with the pommel of her blade that Alianna was tossed ten feet backwards.
They were back on their feet in a flash, and began to circle the Queen of Storms.
“I remember you,” she said, turning to Sam. “I sensed your presence when Elred fell.”
“You mean when you murdered her,” Sam spat. “She was a good person. She saved our lives, and you cut her down like she was nothing.”
“She meant more to me than she ever could have to you,” the Queen said sadly. She ran her thumb down the cut on her thigh. Pointing her blade at Alianna, she plunged her thumb into the wound, and screamed. A bolt of blue energy shot out of her sword, catching Alianna in the chest, blasting her to the ground.
Time slowed once again as the Queen of Storms leapt through the air, sword in hand, ready to plunge it into Alianna’s chest.
Sam charged forward. She could see the blade, see its trajectory. Alianna was still disoriented. Sam pushed her body. Muscles strained and tore as she ran. Her skin and bones burned. Diving forward, she stretched her body.
The Heart of Trees stabbed through her forearm. The pain was overwhelming as the cold, black blade slid through muscle and tendon. It bit between the two bones and out the other side. Pushing through the pain, she shoved the blade forward. It sunk harmlessly into the sod instead of Alianna’s chest.
The Queen of Storms stared at Sam in disbelief. Her reverie was interrupted by Alianna’s spear. The swing nearly severed the Queen’s neck. The Queen yanked her blade free from Sam’s arm, and flipped backwards. She landed gracefully, her weapon at the ready.
“Are you alright?” Alianna asked as Sam clutched her arm.
“Not really, no,” Sam said through tears. She held the wound, but blood flowed freely, pattering to the ground below.
“You’ve done enough. Thank you, my friend,” Alianna said. She spun her spear and dashed at the Queen of Storms.
Nate groaned as Charlie pulled him to his feet.
“Well, I guess we can cross ‘get hit by lighting’ of our bucket list,” Charlie said, patting his friend on the back.
Charlie was much worse for the wear. The skin along the left side of his face was charred. His ear was shriveled and black, and half the hair on his head was missing.
“Geez, you look like how I feel.”
“That bad?”
“It’s not good.”
Nate glanced around. “Where’s Sam?”
Charlie pointed to Sam, who was kneeling, cradling her arm. The force of the blows now being traded between the Queen of Storms and Captain Stormbow made the grass dance as if in a heavy wind.
Sam tore one of her sleeves free, and hastily wrapped it around her wounded arm. She shakily got to her feet, and summoned her spear to her hand.
Nate started toward her. “Sam! What are you doing?”
If she heard him, she didn’t react. Carrying her blade, she stalked toward the two combatants. Neither had managed to gain the upper hand in the flurry of attacks.
Sam raged internally at her helplessness. Her arm throbbed and burned. Gingerly flexing her fingers brought an indescribable agony she did not care to revisit. She knew if she rejoined the fight, she would be a liability to Alianna. But she did not want to be a spectator.
Screw the first law.
She hated the Queen of Storms. She could feel the awfulness of her presence; a darkness that spewed from her very being, corrupting the air around her.
And then it happened. Alianna thrust forward too far. The Queen of Storms sidestepped the move, and grabbed her golden hair. She yanked her off balance. Twisting her blade, she brought the hilt straight up into Alianna’s face.
Her nose broke with a sickening wet crack. Several teeth were sent spinning. Alianna tumbled heavily to the ground at Sam’s feet.
The Queen strode forward, blade poised to strike.
Sam looked down at Alianna’s unconscious form, lying on grass still soggy with morning dew. Clenching her spear, she stepped forward, putting herself between Alianna and the Queen of Storms.
The Queen stopped for a moment, regarding her with what might have been admiration.
“Sam!” Nate shouted as he ran toward them. He was too far away. He wouldn’t reach her in time.
“I do not desire your death,” the Queen of Storms said. “But Alianna Stormbow will die this day.”
"Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man."
The Queen lunged forward. Sam tried to parry the blow, but the blood loss proved too much. The blade slid easily into her stomach. She stared down in mute disbelief as blood poured down the front of her body.
Nate screamed. He felt something he’d never felt before. All the rage and anger, the fear and sorrow, the joy and happiness, the love and hatred; every emotion he had ever felt coalesced in his being simultaneously. In this one moment.
His scream became a roar as something surged within him. Something primal. His mind went blank. He was beyond reason or thought, as if he had tapped into the primordial power of the universe. He could feel the earth, the trees, the sky, the sun and moon. Everything was present in his mind. They were part of him, as he was part of them.
Charlie was forced to cover his eyes as Nate began to gleam, wreathed in a shimmering flame. His eyes flared. His skin became translucent. He spoke an incantation, his voice deep and resonant, producing an inhuman sound.
Nate wasn’t sure if it was a new spell, or one half-remembered from his studies, but as he held his hands toward the Queen of Storms a river of energy burst from his entire being.
The Queen held her hands up, shielding her face as the searing light tore into her. She was flung through the air, tumbling head over heels as the channel of fire burned through the rubble of the keep, scorching a clean hole through the slag and stone.
The energy tore through the army on the other side, disintegrating any orc unfortunate enough to be in its way. It blasted others off their feet. Finally, the Queen of Storms crashed to the ground on the far side of the battlefield.
The army of orcs retreated in a panic, screaming and fleeing from the destructive force Nate had unleashed.
The visions of eternity receded from Nate’s mind. He was in his body once more. Just Nate. He felt strange. As if he had been blind his whole life and then, for a few seconds, had suddenly been able to see, only to have the sense revoked once more.
Looking down, he realized the energy he had released had disintegrated most of his clothing and armor, leaving him only his boots and a six inch ring of what had been his pant legs. His skin smoked and was an ugly, raw red color. Bruises began to rapidly form across his chest and forearms.
“Uh… what was that?” Charlie asked, tossing his cloak over his friend’s shoulder.
Nate collapsed to his knees. “I’m… I’m not sure what happened. I saw Sam get-” He coughed. “Go help Sam.”
“Are you sure?”
Nate nodded weakly, and tried to stand, but his knees buckled again. “Go. I’ll be fine,” he said, not entirely convinced it was true.
Charlie ran to Sam, who held the hole in her stomach with her good hand. Rivulets of blood leaked between her fingers, and a small pool had formed on the ground beneath her.
“Let me see the wound,” Charlie said.
Sam removed her hand, and a spurt of blood hit Charlie square in the face. She clamped her hand back over the wound, and gasped in pain as she tried to stifle her laughter.
“I don’t know what you’re even complaining about,” Charlie said, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Doesn’t look that bad to me.” He spat on the grass.
“Yeah. Totally normal, I’d say. I’m kind of a baby.”
Charlie places one hand on hers, and the other on her back where the blade had exited. “This is probably going to hurt,” He said.
Sam nodded.
Charlie closed his eyes. As the familiar warmth in his chest spread and ran down his arms. Sam’s body tenses, and she gasped. He could sense all the branches of veins and arteries, could practically see them lit up in white through his closed eyes. He concentrated on the severed artery first, watching as it knit itself back together. The blade had nicked her stomach, but most of the damage was to her liver.
Beads of sweat formed as he willed the liver to heal. Slowly, its edges came back together. The stomach, too, stitched itself up. Finally the skin. Sam quivered in pain.
He finally released her, exhausted, but relieved his friend would be okay. She sat back in the grass, her eyes closed. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Charlie said, laying down next to her. They stared up at the azure sky together. The sun crested the dark clouds that the Queen of Storms had summoned, bathing their faces.
An eerie silence had settled over the area. The last of the orcs had disappeared into the forest. Abandoned siege weapons lay scattered across the grass, along with the scorched bodies of the orcs unfortunate enough to have been caught by Nate’s spell.
Alianna, now leaning heavily on Hicket, limped over to Nate, who sat slumped on the ground.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Nate stared up at her in a daze. His mind was foggy and his movements sluggish, like he was floating underwater. It was as if his mind had not yet reconnected to his brain.
“I think so, yeah.”
She studied his face for a long time.
“Where did you learn to speak like that?”
“I wish I could tell you,” Nate said. “I saw my… I saw Sam get stabbed, and something inside me just exploded.”
“Exploded?”
Nate nodded. “Like something took control of my body. I wasn’t myself, it was like being…” He pursed his lips in frustration. How do you describe the indescribable? “It was like I was everything, everywhere, all at the same time.” He plucked a blade of grass and picked at it as he spoke. “That sounds stupid, I know…”
Alianna knelt in front of Nate. She clasped his hand. “From the first moment I met you, I saw nothing but a small, insolent, unintelligent child. I thought you selfish, ignorant, and proud.”
Nate looked in her eyes. A tear danced its way down her cheek, leaving a trail through the ash and mud and blood that had caked to her face.
“I have never been more wrong in my life. Please forgive me.”
Nate stared at her, then at Hicket, puzzled by this reaction. “I don’t understand.”
“You became one with the Aether. There are stories, legends, of those who could wield power like that. Brenius the Divine was the first, but there have been others.”
She closed her eyes, and placed her hand on his head. Nate felt strength return to his limbs, and the fogginess in his brain lifted.
“You’re giving me too much credit. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think I could do that again, even if I wanted to.”
“You’ll learn how to control it, with time,” she said, standing.
“Is the Queen of Storms dead?”
Alianna stared into the distance. “I doubt it. But I’m certain she’ll think twice before attacking us directly again.”
Alianna turned and embraced Sam as she and Charlie approached.
“Never have I seen such courage on the battlefield,” she said. “You saved my life.”
Sam blushed, but couldn’t hide her smile.
“And you,” Alianna said, turning to Charlie and clasping his shoulder. Charlie grinned in anticipation. “You were also there.”
She patted him on the shoulder and turned back to Sam, who was pulling Nate to his feet.
The smile faded from Charlie’s face. “I’m the one who healed Sam,” he grumbled as they walked to their clackers.
They rode down into the village. The small huts were rubble and ash. Smoke lazed upward on a sour breeze. A handful of chickens clucked and bobbed among the debris. A stack of bodies had been loosely tossed in a pile.
“Do you think anyone survived?” Sam asked.
“Most would have retreated to the safety of the keep,” Hicket said, his face grim. “And I do not hold to hope that we will find any alive there.”
“How could the Queen of Storms have known we were coming here?” Charlie said.
“The Conclave has many spies throughout the land,” Alianna said. “Seen and unseen.”
“But to bring an entire army here, with siege weapons? That’s not exactly a spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s almost like someone told her where we were…”
Nate’s words trailed off. Simultaneously, they all turned and glared at the Henry Potter puppet, who was humming to himself, tapping and bouncing his wooden head rhythmically like a drum.
He glanced sideways at them with his wooden eyes, and waggled his eyebrows.
“What is everyone looking at?” he said, his eyes darting. “Do you think the heir is dead? She was supposed to be here, right?”
Alianna pursed her lips and sighed through her nose. She nodded to Hicket, who, in a flash pounced on Henry Potter, grabbing him by the back of his neck and lifting him into the air.
Henry Potter’s wooden arms flailed wildly. “Hey! Why are you doing that! Stop it!”
Hicket held him up to Alianna.
She leaned forward, staring into Henry Potter’s eyes that spun around wildly. “I told you leaving this thing alive was a mistake.”
Charlie held a hand up defensively. “Now, hold on, we don’t know for sure that he-“
“SHE MADE ME DO IT!” Henry Potter howled. “She made me spy on you, I didn’t want to. You’re my friends!”
“Curse you, Henry Potter,” Charlie mumbled.
“And the real Henry Potter?” Alianna asked. “Is he alive?”
The puppet Potter went limp, and stared at the ground. He shook his head sheepishly.
“Great,” Sam said.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Henry Potter clasped his wooden hands together in supplication. “I’ve seen how good you are. I hate the Queen of Storms. She’s awful. And mean. I’m not bad, I’m just a puppet.”
“Maybe we could use him,” Nate said.
Sam shook her head in amazement. “That’s what you said last time, and then we just kind of forgot he was even there.”
“No, he’s right,” Henry Potter insisted. “I could tell you things. I could tell you about the armies of darkness that are assembling. I could tell you about the ritual they are planning, and where it’s going to occur. I have lots of information I could-“
Hicket battered Henry against one of the boulders the catapults had launched into the hamlet.
“No, don’t, I could-“
Hicket hit him again, and again. Henry’s head began to splinter. One of his arms broke free and began to shake and jostled on the ground.
Hicket smashed Henry into the rock with each word he spoke. “We. Shouldn’t. Listen. Too. A. Tool. Of. The. Enemy.”
He dropped the broken puppet to the ground, where it collapsed into a loose pile.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” Charlie said.
“Not quite,” said a deep, guttural voice. The broken puppet slowly pushed its broken body up, scraping across the ground toward them. Its head lolled loosely to the side, half its face had caved in, and its mouth twisted into a wicked grin.
“The heir is dead, our forces shall descend upon your cities. The rivers shall run red with your blood. The Children of Kadmon shall fall into shadow. The Age of Order is at an end.”
“Is that…” Sam trailed off.
“The Magister of Rot,” Alianna finished her sentence.
The puppet began to laugh. It was horrifying.
Charlie slid easily off Neekerbreek. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you, since you can see the future and everything,” he said as he pulled out his flint and steel. He lit a torch as he walked toward the broken puppet. “See yourself taking a shower anytime soon?”
He lit the puppet on fire. It shrieked and tore at its wooden body in a vain attempt to quell the flames, then collapsed and fell silent. Charlie grabbed one of the loose legs that rested nearby, and tossed it onto the fire.
They watched the puppet burn. Its wooden body popped and cracked, its lacquered surface bubbled and warped in the heat. Charlie grabbed more wood from a battered hut and fed the flame.
“Is that really necessary?” Sam asked.
Charlie shrugged. “You never know. I’d feel a lot better if that thing was nothing more than a smudge of soot.” He hefted his pack from his shoulder, and opened it. “Plus, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
He pulled a chunk of meat from one of Hicket’s recent kills, and skewered it on the end of a spear. The meat spat and sizzled, dripping fat and juices onto the body of Henry Potter.
“I can’t articulate why,” Sam said. “But cooking a meal using the body of a fallen enemy as fuel seems… wrong.”
Charlie shrugged. “First you get on my case about my jagged toenail fungus, then you’re lecturing me about eating meat pies made from people, and now this? You need to grow up, Sam. We can’t have grown woman acting like a child. This isn’t a reality TV show.”
“Yes, Charlie,” Nate said. “We all know the old adage, there’s nothing more childish than being grossed out by cannibalism.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Hag said, taking his usual perch atop Charlie’s shoulder. “But I’ve eaten a person on no less than three occasions.”
“See?” Charlie said, taking a large bite from his sizzling hunk of meat.
“When Hag agrees with you, it’s probably life-choice re-evaluation time,” Nate said.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hag shot back. “I know everything. I’m a genius, and I’m cool, and popular, and everyone loves me.”
“Who?”
“EVERYONE!”
They heard a branch snap. Alianna’s spear was in her hand in a flash.
“Who goes there!” she demanded.
A young girl, no older than fourteen, stepped out from behind a pile of rubble. Her long crimson hair fell nearly to her hips, and she wore a filthy canvas shirt and tattered pants. A tiny girl clung to her leg. Their faces were wet with tears and sweat.
“Are- are you Soldiers of the Sun?” the older girl asked nervously.
“We are,” Alianna said. “And who might you be?”
“My name is Meralda, and this is my sister, Sophie.”
#
“I can’t possibly be the heir of… what did you say his name was?”
“Brenius the Divine,” Sam said. “And we can assure you, you are. There’s this prophecy that says you will wield the might of Brenius, and stop the Conclave of Flame and Salt from ending the world.”
Meralda stared blankly at them. She had agreed to travel with them, so long as they agreed to keep her sister safe.
The two had survived the attack hiding in the root cellar beneath their small hut. The hut had partially collapsed during the raid, hiding the entrance from view, but leaving sufficient space for them to crawl free once the orc armies had fled.
They had made camp early, riding south along the round stoned shore of Hollowbone Lake until they came to a small culvert surrounded by a long hills.
Hicket had speared two enormous fish with horn-like protrusions on their foreheads as they had set up camp. Their skin was nearly translucent, which made cleaning them an easy affair. The girls ate voraciously, grease and fat dripping from their chins. They were obviously malnourished, not an unusual state of appearance for peasants in this world.
They had eaten their fill, and now as the stars blossomed in the night sky, they sat huddled around the fire. Sophie rested her head on her sister’s lap while Meralda absentmindedly stroked her hair.
“Who are the Conclave of Flame and Salt?”
“Three evil beings who serve the dark Aether,” Nate answered. “The Queen of Storms, the woman who destroyed your village, is one of them.”
“And I’m supposed to stop her?”
Nate nodded.
“Me? A fourteen-year-old girl?”
Nate glanced sideways at his friends. “Well, yes, with the help of a powerful artifact that only you can wield.”
“What artifact?”
“The hand of your ancestor, Brenius the Divine.”
“Do you have it? How does it work?”
Nate glanced at his friends. “Well, um…”
“We don’t have it yet,” Charlie chimed in. “But we’re going to go get it next.”
“How do you know only I can wield it?”
Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “Well, the prophecy says the last heir will wield it.”
“And how do you know I’m the last heir?”
“The Oracle of Horthax told us,” Sam said.
“What is that?”
Sam cleared her throat. “Well, it’s an oracle. So something that can see the future, I guess.”
“You guess? What did this oracle look like?”
“Well,” Sam hesitated. “It was the severed head of one of the Ancients.”
“The ancients?”
“The Ancients, the race of giants that lived in this land ages ago.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
Charlie frowned. “You haven’t? Aren’t they written about in your religious books or something?”
“I don’t know how to read.”
“Oh.”
“So a giant head told you I was this heir, and you believe it because it’s a giant head?”
Charlie exhaled through pursed lips. “Well, not exactly. The Oracle told us to go to the Forbidden Library, and then at the Forbidden Library, a giant monster told us that-“
“A giant monster?” Meralda was aghast.
“Well… yeah, I guess that’s the only way to describe it - right, guys?”
Sam and Nate both shrugged.
“So this giant monster told us the heir’s name was Meralda Redthorne, and she would be found at the village of Silvermoore. That’s why the Queen of Storms attacked your hamlet. She was hoping to kill you before we could find you.”
Meralda’s chin began to quiver. “So my village, my parents and uncles and grandparents and friends… They’re all dead because of me?”
“No, no, no. No,” Charlie said quickly. “Well, kind of, I guess?”
“This is going great, guys,” Hag interjected.
“It isn’t your fault,” Sam hastily added. “We accidentally let the Queen of Storms know where you were.”
Meralda’s face twisted in sorrow and anger.
“Um… but we’re really sorry.”
Nate cleared his throat. “But the prophecy says-“
“Whose prophecy?” Meralda interrupted.
“What?”
“Who made the prophecy?”
“Oh uh… what was his name? The Oracle of Obiwan? Obrigor? OBGYN?” Sam and Charlie shrugged. “We found it etched in stone on a mountaintop.”
“So you found some words scrawled by… someone… on a mountain?”
“I wish you would stop repeating what we’re saying so that we sound insane,” Charlie said.
“Maybe the problem is, it is insane!”
Meralda glared at the three of them.
“To summarize what you’ve told me. You want me, a child, to take some artifact, and use it to defeat the three most powerful evil beings in the world, because you read some words on a rock written by some guy whose name you can’t remember, and asked a severed head and a monster where to find me?”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Yes?” Sam said.
Charlie turned to his friends. “I’d like to say she’s taking our comments out of context. But is she?”
“Tell me, Meralda,” Alianna finally spoke. “Do you bear any markings?”
“Markings?”
Alianna nodded. “Markings or scars that you’ve had since birth.”
“She does!” Sophie finally spoke up.
“Quiet, Sophie,” Meralda said, placing a hand on her sister’s hair.
“But you do!” her sister insisted. “Show them!”
Meralda scowled at her sister.
“It’s on her tummy,” Sophie said. “Go on, show them.”
With a final frown, Meralda stood and lifted her shirt. A few inches to the right of her navel was a red splotch about three inches long and a half-inch wide.
Alianna approached the girl, gently tracing the birth mark with her finger.
“You bear the sacred mark of the Aether.”
Meralda pulled her shirt back down. “My mother said it was a sign of good fortune. That I would be blessed with plenty.”
“It’s just a birthmark,” Charlie said.
“Shut up,” Sam hissed at him.
“What?” Charlie said in a wounded voice.
Sam glared at him.
“Please stop staring at me,” Charlie said. “It’s making me uncomfortable. I know you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
“I’m actually adding more clothes, Charlie.”
“Your mother was a wise woman,” Alianna said gently. “But a mark like this is more than just a sign of good fortune. It is written in the Apocryphon of Thespia, one of our most sacred of books, that one who bears the mark of the Aether is destined for legendary deeds.”
“Maybe it would help if she could study some of the sacred writings?” Nate said.
“Nate, she can’t read,” Sam said.
“She’ll figure it out.”
“She’ll just figure out reading?”
Alianna continued, ignoring their bickering. “Tell me, Meralda, have you ever felt special? Like you were destined for something more than milking cows?”
Meralda thought for a moment. “I guess so. Maybe. I don’t really like milking cows.”
“Have you ever had a dream, or a feeling, or a yearning for something else? A different life?”
Meralda nodded. “But my mother told me that was the fanciful daydream of all youth.”
“It wasn’t,” Alianna said. “You are no ordinary youth. Hallowed blood flows through your veins. You are fated to become a warrior queen. To bring peace to this land.”
Meralda’s eyes widened as she listened to Alianna speak.
“I am Captain Alianna Stormbow, head of the Soldiers of the Sun, and a powerful servant of the Aether. Yet I gladly kneel at the feet of the true heir of Brenius the Divine. The lost queen of the tenth kingdom of Uzusia.”
Alianna drew her spear, which crackled with energy. The air vibrated with power as she knelt at Meralda’s feet, holding her blade aloft in the palms of her hands, her head bowed reverently.
“If I may serve the true heir, by blade or word, by my life or death, I hereby pledge myself to thy service.”
Meralda stared down at Alianna in awe, unsure what to do or say.
Hicket drew his sword, and joined his captain, kneeling in front of Meralda. “I too pledge all that I am, and all that I have, in thy service.”
Meralda looked nervously at Sam. Sam smiled awkwardly, and gave her the thumbs up.
“I guess,” Meralda said, her voice weak. She cleared her throat. “I accept your oaths.”
Alianna stood. “I’m sure you have many questions, ones that we cannot answer. We are but soldiers.” She turned to Nate, Sam, and Charlie. “I think it best that I escort Meralda and her sister to Whitespire. There the Eremetics will be able to answer her questions, and prepare her for the task at hand.”
Nate glanced at his friends nervously. “What about retrieving the artifact?”
“You three have proven yourselves more than capable.”
“We have?” Charlie said. Alianna ignored the remark, but Nate did not miss the flash of annoyance that briefly washed across her face.
“Hicket will remain with you three, and see the task completed.”
“But,” Hicket began to protest. “Should I not accompany my captain, and safeguard your passage?”
Alianna gently placed a hand on Hicket’s shoulder. “No, my friend. These three will need your strength before this is over.”
Hicket nodded.
“The Council of Kings must be informed of the orcs’ return. The forces of darkness are mustering their armies. We must prepare for war.”
Sam glanced at her friends. “Are we really splitting the party? Nate hates that.”
“As long as I don’t have to Dungeon Master you garbage people, then I guess I’m fine with it.”