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Chapter 93 - The Warden of the Dark

Chapter Ninety-Three

The Warden of the Dark

Jack McKennedy had learnt a great many things from his time with the rebellion. Before he was known by his more famous alias, they called him Mimic, because he had the uncanny ability to copy handwriting after little more than a glance at someone else’s work. In the rebellion, before he was old enough to fight, they mainly utilised him for faking signatures and the like, but many cycles on from those days, the old talent still had its uses.

Jack walked stiffly up to a young man coming off of guard duty and said, “Todd, take this note to Captain Francis. It’s from Hillborn. Go, now.”

The Archangel tiredly sighed and nodded, clearly just wanting to sleep, but finding it difficult to glare at someone like Jack, a man who consisted mainly of glares.

Jack stepped into the shadow of the keep and watched as the messenger nervously brought the small scrap of paper to Francis. He saw her read it slowly and glance to the main gate in confusion.

In the distance, she muttered slowly, “New orders. Fortmaster wants us to inspect the main gate for any potential mechanical faults...”

One of her subordinates frowned. “All of us? We’re not mechanics?”

“Orders are orders. Come on, let’s make it quick. You, stay here,” she barked at Todd, and led her company off down the forum.

Jack quietly left the shadows of the keep and walked straight up to Todd. “You’re relieved. Go on, get some sleep.”

Todd pointed at Francis’ squadron in the distance. “I’m supposed to...” He glanced at Jack’s eyes through the slit in his Javen-helm and saw his irises sparkling with red Arcancy. “Sounds good, actually.”

Jack smiled far too widely for the young man’s comfort as he all but scampered away. The maceman then quickly climbed the ladder up onto the Arena and quickly made his way down into the Murk.

Instead of heading down the spiralling ramp, Jack turned to a near wall. On its face sat a wide stone panel, covered in ornate runic symbols positioned like squares on a calendar, each marked with a number. If you pressed and held one of the symbols, it activated the displacement Arcancy within the cell which corresponded to that number and transported the prisoner within to an Arena cage up above, waiting to be released. On the right side of the long, ornate panel, there were five finger-length switches, each controlling one of the iron gates. There was an identical set of levers in the stands too. On the left side of the panel, however, there was a spear-sized crank already in the down-position, so that no-one slipped and accidentally activated it. It was painted bright red, with white letters which read, Do not activate without authorisation. And for good measure, it was chained to the floor.

Jack pulled out his mace and smashed the chain anchor. He pulled the length of metal free and placed his hand on the lever, now freed. He felt his hand shake as he did so.

The lever existed for one reason. When bringing in a new Shanii, Jack would bait them into the tunnels beneath the fortress, draw them into the Murk, and have someone ready to pull the appropriate cell release for him, which opened up the cell nearest to Jack that so the Warden could then force that creature inside one. This freed up the mental space of worrying about which rune to push and which lever to pull when you were trying not to get killed by a particularly long-fanged Olitarii or a shockingly speedy Scalprum. It required an extra set of hands, but it meant neither Jack or his assist had to pull the Master Emergency Release.

It was not a terribly elegant way of capturing monsters, but capturing monsters was not terribly elegant regardless.

When Jack assumed the permanent position as Warden, he tried to get the master lever removed. It didn’t open all the cells unless you told the rune-map that all the cells were empty, and he was convinced one day a stupid, bored Legacy would do exactly that.

Amekot had felt the risk didn’t merit real anxiety, so the lever stayed.

The thought made Jack smile as he went down the cell map, highlighted with rune magic on the wall and tapped each of them. One by one, the rune lights went off, indicating they were supposedly empty. He tightened his grip on the device and sighed, “I did warn you, Hillborn,” wrenching the lever up.

The hideous roar of old machinery, cracked and echoed as metal grated on metal, deep in the walls and cells like an iron landslide.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Jack watched as each of the cell-doors cranked open, one by one, like steel dominoes. He stepped onto the ladder and took one step when his face turned pale. He looked back down the sloping ramp and let out a faint curse.

“Oliver.”

The cells groaned open, further and further down as demonic screams cackled through the darkness and bellowing roars filled the air.

Jack looked up through the trapdoor above and knew he had to warn the guard. If he didn’t, the monsters would break through the Arena gate before everyone could rouse.

You can’t leave him down there. His cell is opening too.

Jack pulled himself up into the stands of the Arena and shouted, “The Murk is breached! The Murk is breached! Sound the alarm, now!”

A chorus of confused shouts were echoed down the wall-guard as Jack dropped back down into the Murk. He took a long, cold breath as the last few cell-doors opened with thick, metal clangs.

Jack drew Black Sun from his weapon-belt and let the heavy-headed mace hang by his side.

Crank!

He felt the air fill his lungs as he breathed through gritted teeth, pulling his shield from his back.

Crank!

A blood-red glow blazed from the veins upon his face, filling his dark helm with a hue of bloody light.

Crank!

The sound echoed into a long, horrific silence, and out from the dark, a horde of overlapping cackles, chitters, roars, and croaks bellowed up the ramp through the insoluble wall of shadow.

Far above, the bells of Fort Guardian tolled in emergency, and a stampede of footsteps could be felt moving through the soil as the entire camp mobilised.

Out from the dark, monsters of every kind, shape, and size came forward. More than could be counted in a moment, though Jack knew there were at least a hundred beasts before him. Trolls, Wraiths, Basilisks, young Nithes, Enolicians, Wyverns, Auderah, Crimson Wings, Nethotars, and countless others, all staring at Jack before they looked to the great, circular ceiling above them all.

It was nothing more than a layer of wood, supporting the sand stage. And from one glance, Jack knew they understood that.

The blue-haired, knuckle-dragging troll who’d threatened Sidney’s soldier walked forward with a dark, hungry look upon its face. It looked Jack over carefully and its’ corpse-ridden breath muttered, “Shadiirageous. Will you stop us all?”

Jack felt the weight of his heart as he shook his head and spoke clearly, “No. I intend to retrieve my friend. Is there anyone who intends to stop me?”

The Troll let out a low, rumbling laugh as the winged Creations tore toward the roof and blew through the floor of the Arena, showering soil and sand upon everyone else as moonlight poured in. The vast majority of the others began tearing past Jack, paying him no more than a moment’s attention as they climbed up and out in the arena above.

Legacy shouts filled the air and before long, monsters could be heard tearing at the iron portcullis, the only gate sealing off the battleground from the rest of Fort Guardian.

Jack focused on the pain in his bones and let his eyes fall closed. When he opened them again, they were pure red, like blood-washed rubies. Across his body, he’d been struck by scarlet lighting. His veins, muscles, and tendons blared with flame-coloured light, sending slices of the crimson hue out of the slits in his armour. The very air around him burned, and fear grew in the hearts of every creature before him.

There had to be two dozen or more Creations who remained in his way, and each looked more horrified with every waking second as he firmed his grip on Black Sun.

*****

Outside, hundreds of Legacies poured out of the keep, weapons in hand, and armour strapped to their chests as the tide of monsters thrashed against the Arena gate, ripping a small opening through its centre. Up above, a flock of dark, snake-bodied Drakes shrieked and swirled in a storm of teeth and talons. Alongside them was a cloud of glowing Crimson Wings and a wisp of screeching Auderah.

Nichole, Aroha, James, and Magnus broke out amongst the crowd of assembling Legacies, and watched in horror as the monstrous swarm began careening down toward them.

Screams filled the air as Legacies panicked and Flinn sprinted to the front of the mob, shouting, “Cover! Everybody take cover!” just as the iron Arena portcullis was ripped from its rails, and the other tide of monsters broke free.

Magnus looked among the terrified masses as monstrous cries and bell-tolls filled the air. The pale boy cast his hands high to the incoming creatures, letting out an ungodly roar and releasing a flood of white light from the palms of his hands, paling dawn itself as the Wyverns, Auderah, and Crimson Wings were halted in their screeching descent.

Flinn looked to the cloud of shifting creatures above and then down at those flooding in on foot as he drew his bladed long-spear, unsure what orders to give.

Magnus bellowed out, flaring his Arcancy brighter, and the flying Shanii turned and flew out of range.

Nichole, Aroha, and Magnus sprinted to Flinn’s side as Sidney erupted from the keep, shouting, “Everybody form ranks! Archers at the back! Spears in the vanguard! Swords in the centre!”

She ran to the head of the array, strapped on a steel helmet, and levelled her quarterstaff as the forces arranged themselves. Sidney looked to Flinn and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You good, Paladin?”

“Better now!”

The mass of flying Creations circled back over atop the horde of land-monsters and in one demonic mass they hurtled toward the array of Legacies.

Sidney raised her weapon high as the host of warriors trembled behind her. “Vo armoni ka aey!”

The Legacies sent the soil quaking beneath their feet, roaring the words in return, “From Death, Be Life!” and they clashed with the horde of monsters like a cliff-side against the sea.