Months.

Months spent priming its oldest inner pathways.

Months spent in contemplation.

Months spent crafting not one, but three Skyfire Swarms.

…and all three had been defeated in mere minutes.

“Impossible. Impossible. Impossible,” the Ravener whispered.

Its spawn looked up at their master, confused.

“Go. Bring me a petrifier. One closest to that battle,” the Ravener said. “We must know what happened.”

The construct fell silent, floating over the water in its chamber, considering what had occurred. It knew only that the three Skyfire Swarms it had sent after the Heroes were dead.

Dead in minutes.

It could not be: Skyfire Swarms were creatures of the old times. Times when the creator wished for all of Thameland’s people to be wiped from the world. The swarms were not invincible. They were not unstoppable.

But they also were not so weak as to be destroyed—by even the Heroes at their mightiest—within minutes. It could not be.

“Impossible…” it whispered again.

For a time, it waited in silence, analysing its memories of past battles. Battles from before the General was replaced by the Fool. In silence, it waited among its Ravener-spawn…until, at last, a petrifier crawled from a tunnel and into its lair.

“Speak,” it commanded.

The petrifier threw itself on the shore, grovelling before its master. “Master,” it answered. “The General and Usurper, and their companions defeated our Swarms.”

“How?” the Ravener asked.

And the petrifier explained what had happened. From the beginning to its quick and deadly end, the battle between the Heroes, their companions and the Skyfire Swarms, was laid bare. The creature had been too far to intervene, but close enough to see with its powerful vision.

Close enough to witness the Skyfire Swarms’ crushing failure.

“That will be all,” the Ravener said abruptly. “Wait there for my order.”

The construct fell silent once more, finishing the examination of its own memories.

There were only a few cycles where a General had existed in Thameland…and in none could the Ravener find any memory of three Skyfire Swarms facing defeat at the hands of the Heroes, and not so many with such ease.

“What was the difference?” it wondered. “Why has this impossibility occurred?”

It examined its memories one final time, playing out battles that the five Heroes had fought against its mighty Ravener-spawn. It compared those memories to the petrifiers’ recounting, and came to grim conclusions. Very grim conclusions.

For one, it could not find any group of Heroes in its memories that compared to the sheer power wielded by this generation and their allies.

“They are the strongest of any cycle,” it whispered. “And they are not alone.”

This generation’s Heroes are aided by forces beyond Thameland’s shores.

“Previous generations have only battled alongside those of the creator’s kingdom. Thameish armies and some few mercenaries, in the past. Now, there are outsiders to contend with. Powerful outsiders. This is beyond my calculations…and they are here because of him.”

The General.

This General.

So many changes and irregularities in this cycle—the outsiders, the usurpers, the discovery of Uldar’s death, the destruction of the hidden church—could all be linked back to that one individual. No General or Fool in all of Thameland’s history had ever caused this many disruptions in Uldar’s great plan.

None until now.

“I underestimated them,” it whispered, the stirring growing within its core. “They must be destroyed quickly. At once! If they grow any stronger…”

It paused, turning its attention to the petrifier.

“Go. Speak to our ally. Things must change,” the Ravener said. “We must—”

“Master!” a voice called from one of the cavern’s numerous entrances.

Every Ravener-spawn turned toward the voice.

There stood a Hunter, wheezing from exertion. It looked like it had sprinted many miles.

“Master! The enemy is tracking the Skyfire Swarms! They are following their trail!”

Silence fell.

“Be calm!” the Ravener commanded. “Guards will be doubled in our lair. But they will not find us. They cannot. And soon. Soon they will have too much to occupy them to try to seek us out.”

###

“I underestimated all of you.” Asmaldestre’s voice slashed the air around her. It echoed even above the pounding rain. “You all boil with greater violence than I had thought you capable of. The violence of the fire clouds was undone by our own. Yes, you were correct, archwizard. This battle just might satisfy me.”

“Boil with greater violence than you thought us capable of…” Khalik muttered beneath his breath. “Thank you? I suppose?”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You are welcome.” Asmaldestre answered, turning her burning gaze on him.

He flinched.

“Well, it’s a good thing ‘your violence’ stopped it so far,” Theresa said, flying by Alex’s side. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Neither have I, Theresa,” Alex said. “Neither have I.”

Beneath the group lay a path of destruction at least a mile wide: a trench of blackened earth scarring the land in an endless wound across the Thameish wilderness. Everything the fiery clouds had touched was charred or now ash and dust, and the fires were only snuffed out by the pounding, unnatural rain called down by Alex’s magic.

Even then, some of the flames still stubbornly sputtered on, only dying out when the young archwizard sent an elder water elemental down to stifle them.

It was fine, though.

He had more.

Many more.

The young archwizard was leading a small army through the sky.

At its centre were those who’d faced the fire-clouds, the companions he’d taken to Welling, Tyris and Vesuvius. They were now joined by Baelin, who Alex had teleported to Generasi to ask for his help.

And they also had more company. Around them was an army of summoned monsters, many conjured by Alex and many more called by Baelin.

Engeli, celestials, demons, devils, and elementals surrounded the group, soaring through the rain.

The group moved largely in silence, eyes focused ahead.

Only Asmaldestre was cheerily chatting away, as though the terrible violence they’d engaged in was as welcome as a picnic under the summer sun. And to be fair to her…in every way, it was.

They had taken no casualties.

No injuries.

And their opponents were dead.

‘Have we really become so powerful?’ Alex thought, looking down at his hands. In one was his aeld staff, and the other balled into a fist and released repeatedly. ‘In just a few months? I guess…It guess we have. By the Traveller, if we were all together in the Empire and had faced the hidden church as we are now, we might have killed all of them in the first ambush. …what we just did leads me to believe we have enough power to put the Ravener down.’

He smiled at the thought, watching the devastated path through the rain.

Blackened water pooled on the ground.

‘…if this sort of destruction is what’s in store for the rest of the kingdom…’ He shuddered, pushing away an image of Alric being reduced to ash. ‘Don’t think like that. Focus on what’s in front of you. You can find the Ravener. You can strike it down. We can strike it down.’

He took a deep breath, calming his mind.

Under his shirt, the Mark of the General shone with its brilliant white light, just as the other Heroes’ Marks did.

‘We can do this. We can do this.’ He told himself.

“The path ends just up ahead!” Drestra called. “Be ready!”

Alex’s thoughts went quiet. “What else do you see?” he called back. “Any Ravener-spawn?”

“No,” she said.

“I don’t see anything right now,” Theresa said.

“Don’t smell anything either,” Thundar added.

“I shall conjure some Wizard’s Eyes.” Baelin added. His bronze armour gleamed as the rain beat down on it. “We’ll let them start investigating the area. We shall find it.”

They closed in on what appeared to be where the fire-clouds’ had begun their path of destruction through Thameland.

The scorched earth began in an empty field: what once must have been a vast, grassy plain was now reduced to a clogged wasteland of muck, debris and ash.

“Be careful,” Khalik whispered. “We do not know what lies ahead of us.”

The group reached the wasteland, circling in the sky for a time.

All eyes scanned the ground below them, searching for a hole, a rise or other sign of a dungeon. They found nothing.

‘Oh no,’ Alex thought, his heart sinking.

He remembered how they’d searched the countryside when Uldar’s throne and corpse had disappeared. They’d followed Ravener-spawn tracks until they’d disappeared.

But—even after months of searching—they’d found nothing. Not even a clue.

‘Not again,’ he thought as they landed in the wasteland.

“Spread out,” he said. “There’s got to be something here. There has to be.”

“There has to be,” Theresa echoed.

“Let us hope.” Baelin conjured a horde of Wizard’s Eyes with a wave of his hand.

Together, the group and the ancient archwizard’s invisible eyes spread out over the land, examining every nook and cranny of the burnt field. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to many.

Every inch of the area was scanned for even a single sign of the Ravener or the origins of the fiery clouds.

Slivers of grass now lay blackened in the desolate field, among cinders, and ash that were once a copse of trees. Heaps of embers hissed, dying atop bits of shattered bone that Brutus sniffed with interest. None were spared from the fire.

But still…

“Nothing?” Drestra suddenly roared. “Nothing?” Flames erupted from her draconic maw. “It can’t be! Not again!”

Alex was turning over a charred log—he could have sworn he’d examined the same one ten times already—he was shaking with anger. “No way. It had to come from here. Baelin, do you see anything?”

The chancellor was floating in the centre of the wasteland, his eyes distant. “None of my Wizard’s Eyes have detected a single sign of any entrance underground, save for a few small burnt burrows.”

Alex turned to one of the engeli. “What of you?” He asked in their celestial tongue. “Do you sense any divinity?”

“None save for the divine powers of your allies, archwizard.” The engeli bowed deeply.

“Shit!” Alex looked down at the muddy earth at his feet. He switched to a tongue of earth elementals. “Have you seen anything?”

There was a rumble beneath his feet.

An elder earth elemental emerged.

It groaned in the language of rock and soil.

“Still nothing?” Alex cried. “No tunnels, no dungeon…nothing?”

“My magics could not find anything either.” Prince Khalik said grimly. He looked up. “Perhaps the fire clouds came from the sky? It is possible that they emerged from somewhere far from here, soared high into the sky, then came down at this point. All to throw us off their trail.”

“Wouldn’a b’ th’firs’ time bloody Ravener-spawn led us on a bloody bad chase,” Cedric’s tone was dark. He floated in the air above the scorched bones of a large antlered creature. His knuckles were white on his weapon. “I’s thinkin’ we mighta been had again.”

“No, I refuse to accept that!” Drestra snarled, her claws digging trenches in the earth. “It seemed like we were so close! So close!”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Baelin frowned, exuding the patience of the ages. “Though, perhaps we are missing something. We can widen our search. I humbly suggest that we spread out, and take a look in a wider area while continuing to search here. A Proper Wizard avoids growing too narrow in their vision.”

“True.” Alex turned to the others. “Let’s spread out. I want us fanning out in every direction, that’ll give us a better chance of seeing where they came from. Theresa, maybe you and Brutus can take a group south. Drestra, you can go north. Thundar, you take a group to the east. Maybe someone can pick up a scent.”

“There’s not much to smell, except ash.” Theresa called darkly, holding up a burnt bone in one hand. “I think splitting up is a good idea. Who’s in each group? Come here, Brutus.”

The cerberus had his head buried in a beast’s blackened rib cage.

“You can choose your own groups. Maybe three or four per group.” Alex looked around. “The rest of us will stay here. I’m sure we missed something. I know it.”

“Brutus, drop that, we have to go.” Theresa pulled at something in the cerberus’ left mouth. “Come on, you don’t know what that is.”

“It could be something helpful.” Khalik floated toward Theresa. Najyah perched on his shoulder, soaked from the rain. “Brutus is clever, perhaps he found something.”

“It’s just a burnt piece of gunk!” The huntress finally wrenched it from the hound’s mouth. “Maybe an organ or something.”

“Ravener-spawn?” Alex asked, walking toward her.

The others turned in Theresa’s direction.

She sniffed the object. “No, it smells burnt, but underneath, it smells earthy, like a mushroom.”

“Oh,” Alex sighed. “Nevermind then, let’s—”

“Wait!” Drestra shifted to her human form, teleporting beside Theresa, taking the mushroom from the huntress’ hands.

“What is it?” Alex teleported beside the Sage. He examined the mushroom as Drestra held it, she was beginning to tremble as she sniffed it. “By the spirits…”

The others came closer.

“You alright?” Thundar asked her.

The Sage looked around at everyone. “Do you know what this is? It’s not just a regular mushroom. Mushrooms like these are almost always found in circles… as part of a fae gate.”

Silence claimed the group.

“I…” she whispered. “I think I know where the Ravener is…” Her eyes were growing wider. “By the spirits…by the Traveller…we were stupid. So very stupid.”

It was as though a key had turned in a lock.

“Oh by the Traveller.” Alex could barely breathe. “The Ravener’s in the fae wild, isn’t it?”