Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen
When Death Knocks We Answer
The keep doors came down like a set of steel dominos, but before they’d even crashed against the hallway floor, the small host of Legacies gave their cry and surged forward with their weapons high.
Raeken screeched overhead spraying waves of acid across the first line through the entrance. Scarlet forks of lightning crackled by the soldiers’ heads as Avery cast out their bronze-plated arm, screaming in agonising pain from the back wall.
Carter threw off his dark cloak, revealing his hidden harness of daggers and throwing knives. He hurled every weapon in his dark holster without slowing down a single. James grabbed his claymore with both hands and roared like a wild beast as his feet thundered on the polished floor.
Oliver raised his sword and the young orphan felt time thicken around him as the silence of Life vanished under the rampaging madness. The howls of the wolves resonated off the hallway walls, the stone soldiers filled every space in his mind like the crammed figures of an oil painting. There was madness in the air so thick that he could taste it like the blood in his mouth.
The world had become a song of tragedy, and every lyric was sung high and clear. The gnashing teeth and dagger-long claws. The dull, distant look in their hollow eyes. The chipping marble beneath their stone feet, and the gentle tremble of the keep itself. It was all so sharp and untampered, and despite the chaos bleeding into every moment, Oliver found something content about it. He’d heard stories about such moments. About war-cries, and courage, and love stronger than fear. He’d grown up believing in them, in heroes, even after all the horrors. And here he was, amidst friends, about to die for the only home he’d ever known.
He wasn’t sure he could ask for more than that. As he closed the last five paces between two dozen Legacies and thousands of Nikereus’ soldiers, Oliver hitched his shoulder back, cried like a fallen angel, and brought his blade down like a hammer of the gods.
The crowd of Legacies slammed into their enemies, exploding with Arcancy light from every vein upon their flesh, filling the air with tortured shrieks as flashes of multi-coloured power erupted through the horde.
Oliver didn’t focus his Arcancy, rather he let it bloom like a cloak, and it covered everyone shoulder to shoulder with him. He couldn’t hide them with killing himself, but to the eyes of the Obthraie, it was as a sudden mist had kicked up, and the Legacies were half-hidden in a curtain of fog and grey.
Aroha was crammed between Klaryah and Oliver as she drove her shortsword viciously into the stomach of the Obthraie she collided with. As they turned to sand, two more spilled into its place lunging spears at her head. She bent her head, dodging one, as the other glanced her shoulder and she roared, slamming her blade across the offender’s skull.
Beside her, Oliver was using the body of a Soiltorn to shield himself from the worst of their weapons, though every other strike would scrape through, glancing his side or scalp until the body turned to dust in his grasp. Oliver was crushed on all angles, barely able to move his sword, stabbing and tearing at enemies close enough to breathe on, desperately working to keep his blade from harming the allies packed in next to him. The swordsman ran his blade through a snarling Shade Hound and from nowhere a stone fisted clubbed him hard in the right eye, slitting open his eyebrow and spurting blood down his face.
Klaryah was on Aroha’s left, holding a Shade Hound in a chokehold, using its underbelly to catch spears while it snapped at her head, missing by luck alone. She drove Amekot’s sword into its back, and more Creations flooded forth as the crowd of Legacies began getting pushed deeper down into to keep. Before Klaryah could get her sword up again, an Obthraie smashed her in the cheek with the pole of its spear and she roiled in pain before driving her weapon though the foe’s neck, and spitting a mouthful of blood on the one who took its place.
As the Soiltorn recoiled from the gore in their eyes, a black scythe ripped down the length of their body as Magnus shouted with rage, brutally taking spear-glances to the chest and stone fists to the skull, registering only the worst of them. He spun and hooked the edge of his blade through a Shade Hound’s shoulder. The Shanii went up in a plume of shadow and fell down in dark rain over the crowd. For an instant there was a gap in the front line.
Magnus growled like an animal and threw himself into it, whipping his scythe around like an obsidian tornado, buckling the advance with confusion for a moment.
Oliver threw himself back, grabbing Aroha as he shouted, “Retreat! Fall back!” while the dark forces folded around Magnus and drove them nearly halfway down the hall.
As the Legacies tried to abandon their line, an unholy bellow sounded through the horde and a Mountain Wolf trampled across its own allies with an unhinged malice, locking eyes with Oliver.
Oliver only had time to shove Aroha aside before the behemoth lowered its mossy-stone head and hit him like a catapult. Oliver was weightless for three seconds and the pain of the impact slackened him so much so that his sword flew from his grip, clattering to the wall, and the young orphan hit the ground back-first, sucking every inch of breath from his lungs while he was crumpled on the floor.
Avery, still sitting with the wounded against the back fall launched an unholy bombardment of scarlet lightning from their fingertips. It struck the Mountain Wolf, scoring its face and shoulders, but it continued its advance.
“Oli, get-” Avery tried to speak but blood dripped from their lips. Their head lulled forward, and pain sent them unconscious.
The Legacies ahead reformed the line behind the creature, throwing themselves back at the monsters as Raeken leapt into the crowd, melting three dozen Soiltorn at once while twice as many took their place.
Oliver couldn’t so much as bend his back from the pain flushing through him, scarcely able to raise his head as the creature bore its pale teeth. Oliver was still vacuumed of his breath, and large black spots danced in his eyes.
As the monster took the last step forward, looming over him like a crumbling tower, a voice roared, “Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!”
Oliver’s vision cleared again right as Sarah stepped in front of him with Iron Tooth in her hands.
She levelled the heavy longsword at the monster’s snarling teeth, struggling to stay upright as she blinked through the unsteadiness of her concussion, half blind by the welt swelling across her eye.
The Yiraa took a long, cautious step forward, filling the air with the stench of its breath as its growls echoed in amongst the chaos resonating behind it. As its paw set against the polished floor, the tile cracked underfoot. Its long, angular maw was close enough that she could smell the dried blood upon the stone.
Sarah’s eyes ignited with blue flame as she firmed her grip, and a cobalt blaze exploded down her wrists, leaping up to the tip of the sword like it was soaked in whale-oil. “Come on, then.”
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The behemoth glared at the magic crawling across her flesh and let out a roar so cavernous that Sarah went deaf in both ears for a moment. In the silence, it reared its shoulders, Sarah gritted her teeth and raised the blade. War screamed all around them, but to her it was noiseless.
And then, a moment passed. Sarah blinked. The Mountain Wolf was still poised, snarling, and a moment from pouncing, but it came no closer.
Sarah looked around. She wondered if she had died, and been lost in the moment of its happening, but no. She realised after a moment, she could hear her own stifled breaths.
Her own breaths and little else. The rampage of the armies of Nikereus had stopped. The endless cacophony of stone against the polished marble was done, like the final note had been composed, and they were left in their seats to relish in the echoes.
The last dozen or so Legacies shared her confusion too, and their confused cries barely filled the hall.
Aroha, Marken, and Klaryah looked around in desperate panic, but every Obthraie was suddenly still, blinking sleepily as though they’d just woken from a deep, age-long rest. On the other side of the motionless mob, Syon, Kirkley, and Flinn were stood against the passage wall, weapons aloft in confusion as the entire horde of Shade Hounds glanced down to their paws or up to the ceiling, as though unsure where they were.
The Mountain Wolf before Sarah looked slowly around the keep, almost teetering on its wide, thick paws, as though drunk, and sobering every second that passed.
Sarah watched in shocked, silent uncertainty when suddenly it blinked once more, and its eyes flashed in panic like a pig caught in a butchery. The noblewoman couldn’t believe her eyes as the beast stumbled backward, yelping in every direction as though it were caught in a dense fog, unable to find its way out.
Oliver craned his neck from the ground as the same noise flooded out from every Creation in Fort Guardian, looking over them in complete bewilderment as blood trickled down his face.
Klaryah grabbed Marken and Kirkley and threw them to the side as the ranks upon ranks of Obthraie yelled pitched words in Low Garganii. They abandoned their weapons like they would only weigh them down and they sprinted as fast as their legs could carry them out of the keep, stampeding over one another to escape.
Aroha watched the Mountain Wolf turn and tear up several handfuls of marble from the floor as its bounded out of the hall, slamming through dozens of Obthraie and Shade Hounds before breaking out into forum, yelping under the pain of sunlight.
The Legacies stood in silent awe, bleeding, bruised, many lying on the floor in confused agony as they watched Nikereus’ entire army flood between the fallen gates of Fort Guardian.
James pushed himself up shakily from the ground. Blood dripped from his mangled left arm after using it as a shield. He looked in complete shock to Magnus and Carter, both sprawled on the ground in pain, offering them each a wincing hand.
“You alright?” James croaked, looking Carter over with concern.
Magnus grimaced, pushing a rib back into place with a nod, as he asked, “What in the Dark Lands just happened?”
James looked out over the fleeing horde as the sunlight coloured the black bruises on his face. He looked to Carter and blinked slowly. “They did it.”
Carter nodded, looking around the empty hall, littered with the bodies of the fallen, ankle deep with Shanii essence. His eyes touched everything, but they were far away. He began to sob in the base of his throat, and then the pit of his stomach, and before he could collapse, James held him tight, and they stood together in the silence of Life.
*****
Nichole and Rose clutched Michael’s hands. Each breath Michael took, the arrow twitched in his breast, but the breaths were becoming shorter. It had missed his heart, but blood was soaking every inch of his shirt and leather. Nichole’s face was puffy with tears as she looked up to Jack and shook her head.
Jack saw the tide of creatures storming toward them, making directly for the darkness of the cavern. Jack set his teeth. His eyes were hard, glassy, and ashamed as he said, “We have to leave.”
Rose looked passed her brother to the oncoming horde. They had maybe a minute before the array crushed them into the soil on their way to the cavern opening. She sniffled, moving to grab Michael under his arms.
Michael shook his head numbly, tears rolling down his face as he struggled to open his eyes. “It’s okay.” He took a shallow breath only to spit up blood through his teeth, squeezing Nichole’s hand tight in pain.
Nichole held him close and whispered, “We’re taking you back. We’ll get you to Lil and Jordan. They’ll make you better.”
Michael peered softly at her as his body washed with a cold feeling and he smiled slowly as he shivered. “I’ll slow you down. They’ll catch you. I won’t have that.”
“Michael, I am- I’m not... I am not leaving you here.” Nichole’s grip on his fingers was so tight that he caressed it with his other pale hand.
“You’re not leaving me. You’re saving your friends.” Michael looked gently to each of them and blinked hazily as he smiled. “Jack?”
The commander fell to his knee and spoke softly, “I’m here, Michael.”
“Get them home. Make sure the rest of my family is safe. Please.” Michael spoke the last word and his head lulled back to the soil, too heavy to hold up. His strength was leaving him and the ground was turning deep crimson, blooming outward like a bed of sprouting flowers.
Rose’s tears fell into the soil at Jack’s side as her long curls draped in the mud. She looked to Michael’s paling face and then to the storming army. They were perhaps less than fifty feet away. Rose took his hand, when her soft smile vanished and she looked to the fortress in a small, cold realisation. Rose snapped to Jack and stammered, “Now! We have to go, now!”
Jack was so baffled by her change of pace that he didn’t even have time to raise a question before she turned and sprinted back toward the hatch. He looked back to Michael, unsure what to say. “I- I’m... I’m so sorry, Michael. I don’t know where she’s going.”
Michael couldn’t bend his neck to see her, and as tears rolled down his face he said, “It’s okay. You need to go now. All of you.”
Jack went to go speak but Karmine nodded and put his hand on the young leader’s shoulder, silencing him.
Sidney lowered herself down with her steel quarterstaff, stiff from her own wounds. She ran her hand through the dying boy’s hair and kissed him on the head.
Karmine took Michael’s hand tightly, and in his deep, melodic voice spoke, “Don’t be afraid, my boy. We’ll walk together again.”
Michael smiled with his eyes closed, now so pale from blood loss that his words slurred together. “I’m not... I’m not afraid. I’m not...” His head rolled over and he looked to Nichole, still beside him, crying silently.
Karmine and Jack stood together, heavy with grief as the Javen warrior looked up and saw the horde of creatures so close he felt their movement in the mud underfoot.
Seeing the deep, hard pain in her eyes, Jack croaked, “Nicky, we need to go.”
Nichole shook her head softly. “I’ll be okay. Can hide if I need to.”
Michael began mumbling incoherently, “Do you... do you know? Do you know why?” wheezing with every breath as Jack, Karmine, and Sidney were forced to leave, sprinting all-out for the trap door in the distance.
Jack knew most creatures were heading for the caves, but plenty would settle for any one of the pavilions simply to find sanctuary in their shadow, which means they couldn’t be near any of them. He’d never felt so evil in his life than leaving them there, but there were so many others who were in the same danger.
And so, as they ran, Nicky and Michael were left alone on the field. The monsters were coming but she didn’t care. She could’ve sat in the muck, holding her friend’s hand until the sun stopped in the sky or the grass of the meadows grew passed their heads. Nichole would’ve stayed with him until the sky turned dark and didn’t rise bright again. Until the oceans dried up and all things turned to glass. Until the stars went out and the void swallowed the world. She would’ve stayed until all time ran out, and the only things left in existence were herself and the friend she couldn’t save.
Nichole pressed her head to the dying boy’s and her tears flowed hot and without control. Michael’s breaths turned short and sharp and the young woman held him tight. The ground rumbled so fiercely that she didn’t bother to run, and nevertheless couldn’t bring herself to let go. The barrage of trampling muck and dirt battered her ears with a horrifying racket. The veins in her body tightened and her back hardened with muscle. As the hurricane of noise went to consume her, Michael tightened his grip and mumbled, “...because... because...”
“Don’t talk, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Nichole whispered through her trembling lips. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Because...” Michael’s distant eyes lulled over to her face and a shadow of a smile lingered as the monsters swarmed around them, “...my friends are with me.”
And then there was light.