“I swear, I’s gonna rip Aenflynn in half m’self.” Cedric threatened beneath his breath. He was standing in the laboratory with the rest of the team, watching as the anti-dungeon warping device was loaded onto a floating platform. “I’ll choke th’life from ‘im.”

“You can’t,” Alex warned, finishing up the loading of the anti-Ravener venom and injection devices onto the platform. “You’re bound by your pact with him: same as Drestra and Hart. Leave the strangling to the ones who won’t be pulverised by fae magic if they attack him. Focus that rage on the Ravener.”

“Aye…” the Chosen nodded. “I knows yer bein’ sensible, but I don’ like it. Matter o’ fact, seein’ how ‘e tricked us makes me wanna strangle ‘im even more!”

“I don’t like that we can’t get him either,” Drestra’s voice crackled. “I’d like to feel my fangs piercing in him as I’m burning him with my flames. I can smell it now.” There was no humour in her voice.

“Do not be so sure that he would be so easy to strike down.” Baelin warned. “Old fae lords wield terrible power, and we do not know just what he has managed to do with that throne yet. So, expect the fight of a lifetime.”

“The thought of him having the throne and doing whatever he wished with it sickens me,” Merzhin growled. “Perhaps I could craft an interdiction—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Alex activated the force shielding on the floating platform. “That kind of interdiction could damage your soul. And we need you and your soul if we’re going to get through this.”

“Preferably alive.” Thundar rumbled, eyeing Uldar’s mace.

“Yeah.” Grimloch thumbed the spikes on his maul. A warhammer from Uldar’s sanctum was slung over his back. “If I die, then Nua-Oge’s gonna kill all of you, even if you live through the Ravener.”

“O-oh,” Alex said.

“Yeah.”

“In any case, I will kill all of you if you don’t live through this,” Professor Jules said, looking at each of them. “So many of you are so young. So strong. With such bright futures. It would be wrong to have that taken from you by ancient things.”

“Oh? I happen to be an ancient thing,” Baelin said. “So are you saying only the young ones deserve to live through this, Vernia?”

“You have lived long enough, old goat.”

“Thanks,” the chancellor said dryly.

Professor Jules looked upon them, as though trying to commit each face to memory. Four Heroes. A life-enforcement empowered huntress and her cerberus blood familiar. A life-enforcement enhanced sharkman. A young rune-marked giant and his father, even if the latter was staying behind. One of the strongest war-spirits from across the planes. An ancient archwizard. Three powerful young wizards.…and finally, their commander.

Her eyes rested on Alex.

“Mr. Roth, I want you to take extra care,” she warned him. “The others, I can count on them to be somewhat more sensible. But you…I want you to make sure that you are at your wedding when this is all over, not at your funeral.”

Behind her, several other wizards: including Tyris and Kybas nodded.

Alex lowered his head. “I’ll make sure we come back. I will.”

“And what is the plan, fearless leader?” Khalik asked. “What are we to do from here?”

The young archwizard faced the others. “We’ll go to the fae wild through the closest fae gate, but I’m guessing we’re going to have a hell of a time of it on the other side. Ravener-spawn are flooding through the gates, so any gate we go through will likely have a horde waiting on the other side. Now, we have enough power that your average horde of Ravener-spawn shouldn’t be a problem…at first.”

“What do you mean, at first?” Hart asked.

He gave the Champion a grave look. “The problem we have is that we don’t know where the Ravener is in the fae wild. We’ll need to hunt for it, which means we could be fighting for a long time. We have a lot of mana and our fighters have a lot of stamina, but neither of those things are infinite. We need to preserve as much of our strength as we can.”

Alex held up two fingers. “Because we have two major threats we need to deal with. Aenflynn—and whatever he’s been doing with Uldar’s body and throne—and the Ravener, with its full power. They’d be hard enough fights if we were fresh…but if we face them after hours or even days of clawing our way through hordes of Ravener-spawn? It’s going to be rough.”

“Right.” Isolde crossed her arms. “Then what is the plan?”

“I’m going to summon some astral engeli, and teleport around Och Fir Nog with them, seeing if we can locate the throne and the body,” Alex said. “That’ll be the fastest way for us to search.”

The young archwizard looked at Baelin.

“Do you think you can take Aenflynn?” Alex asked. “Even if he’s done something with Uldar’s body and throne?”

Low laughter rolled from the chancellor’s mouth. “Are you asking me to face the fae lord so the rest of you can focus your efforts on the Ravener?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Yes,” Alex said. “And if Aenflynn and the Ravener are in different places, I’m going to ask you to separate from the rest of us and lock him down. I’ll teleport back and forth to support whoever needs it…but yeah, Baelin you’re our most powerful card, I’m thinking. So you making sure that Aenflynn is either dead or at least can’t interfere with us dealing with the Ravener, is what we’ll need. I know that’s asking a lot—”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Baelin chuckled. “A fae lord who is possibly wielding the power of a god…and facing him with nothing but my own power and wits. The thought of that tickles me.”

“Of course,” Professor Jules said dryly.

“Oh, do not be so cross, Vernia,” Baelin said simply. “After all, I have supplied the final piece for your ritual, and you may activate it whenever you wish. I dare say I have earned a little bit of fun,”

She rolled her eyes. “Chancellor, your ‘fun’ will be the ruin of us all.”

“No, no.” His beard-braids clinked. “Just the ruin of our enemies, of course.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so eager, Baelin,” Alex said. “If you need help, I’ve got plans to support you.”

“How kind of you,” Baelin said.

“So that’ll leave th’ rest o’ us t’ hunt the Ravener down, aye?” Cedric asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said. “We’re going to be moving quickly, teleporting as fast as we can. We should avoid fights if we can, until we actually find the Ravener’s dungeon. And we’ll focus on finding it fast.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Hart said.

The others murmured, nodding in agreement.

Alex took a deep breath. “Then…this is it, I guess.”

“Good luck!” Kybas said. “Harmless and I will be rooting for you.”

“As will we all,” Professor Jules added. “End this and end it well.”

“We will.” Alex touched the floating platform holding the devices. “Alright, here we go. Everyone get close and touch me. We’ll be teleporting together.”

The group gathered around Alex, exchanging looks and words of encouragement.

Then the General teleported them out of the lab.

###

On a misty battlefield beyond Och Fir Nog’s borders, the world was ending.

The air shimmered, lethal fumes released, flesh melted.

The earth bucked, opening like the jaws of great beasts, swallowing terrified victims.

All around, the sky was pure fire and lightning.

Rivers boiled, catching anyone near their banks, dragging them to a watery end.

Fae screamed and died.

Ravener-spawn marched through the chaos like they were out for a stroll on a warm summer’s day, unconcerned, and slaughtering. They pulled fae from their hiding holes and crushed pixies beneath trampling feet. Some were swallowed whole by behemoths and others were drained dry by Spear-Flies.

Together, Ravener-spawn and fae killed everything they came across, wiping the misty lands free of all life.

Well…almost all life.

Behind the various Ravener-spawn marched Aenflynn’s fae armies from Och Fir Nog, watching, engaging and cheering as ancient enemies and rivals were wiped out with ease. Ancient grudges—some thousands of years old—evaporated in a tide of blood and Ravener-spawn.

Even the enemy fae, desperately wanting to fight back could only watch in futility as divine light encased the monsters and enemy army invading their lands, healing them of the slightest wound.

The attacked screamed for salvation, crying out to their fae queen for her aid.

But, they could not know that she was already dead: reduced to a smouldering husk by a bolt of divine lightning in her very palace while sitting atop her ivy throne.

There would be no hope coming to save the enemies bordering Och Fir Nog’s boundaries.

And Lord Aenflynn could only smile, sitting comfortably upon Uldar’s throne, safely within his palace.

His eyes peered through the window, his vision stretching hundreds of miles to drink in every detail of the slaughter he was responsible for.

He watched as a group of Redcaps burst from a swamp, determined to flank a group of his forces. The fae lord smiled, whistled a musical tone of power, then waved a hand.

Divine might surged through Uldar’s chair, rising, flowing through the air around Aenflynn’s hand like an orchestra obeying its conductor. The fae lord whistled a harsh tone then flicked his wrist.

Divine power shot away, crossing hundreds of miles in an instant. As the redcaps advanced, the ground beneath them transformed from its earthy hue to bright white, their bodies instantly disintegrating, divine force unmaking them down to the smallest particle.

Aenflynn smiled wider, revealing his sharp teeth.

He was feeling quite taken with himself.

Manipulation of matter through will, magic and song was an old fae trick, one the Stalker had mastered well. The short fae had weaved objects through the air and split flesh with a single wave of a hand.

His art had made him a terror for the thousands he’d hunted over the millennia, and there were very few fae who were his better in the art.

Lord Aenflynn was one of those few.

He had gone far beyond what most learned: he did not weave mere matter any longer, but was now able to conduct energy and power itself…as long as he had time to learn the quirks of the energy he wished to bend.

And at this point, he’d had time, many months with Uldar’s throne.

And those endless nights of practice—locked away in his castle—had borne much fruit indeed.

“Thank you, old friend,” he said, thinking about Uldar as he devastated an entire village of Asrai with the flick of a finger. “You fought at my side against my rivals in life. Now? Now in death, you wipe them out like a spring rain washes away the muck of a winter’s thaw.”

His smile faded, slightly.

“But I must work quickly.”

He thought about what the Ravener’s Hunter had told him earlier.

Of what the mortals were doing, and how the Ravener would respond. Aenflynn had always known—from the moment he’d ‘nudged’ Uldar’s construct into Och Fir Nog for sanctuary—that a final confrontation between the Ravener and the mortals would occur.

Those lovely, clever little Heroes would likely be coming to see him soon.

Aenflynn had fooled them long enough with his little trick in Uldar’s sanctum: spying on them, sending Ravener-spawn to steal the throne and body while they were occupied, then whisking the Ravener-spawn, the body and chair into the fae wild.

After that, there had been months of learning how to bend and manipulate his old friend’s energies.

Now, though?

He doubted his ruse would remain undiscovered for much longer: the Ravener was attempting to destroy Thameland, and the Thameish would likely discover where these new creatures were coming from.

After that?

They would arrive in Och Fir Nog, crying about treachery.

But what treachery was there?

He had not harmed them. If anything, he wished them all the best! Were it not for their actions, he would not have gained the ultimate weapon to finally bring the enemies of his realm low.

Still, he knew they would not see it the same way he did. Young mortals often did have narrow vision.

And so he’d acted first, allowing the Ravener-spawn to use his fae gates en masse to wipe away as much…resistance as they could.

He doubted it would be enough, but it would slow the mortals down.

Hopefully, long enough for him to finish destroying his true enemies in the fae wild.

Once that was done?

Then things would become interesting.

“There are cards left yet to play,” he whispered, humming to himself as he crushed an entire fae castle with a single act of will. “And if I play them right, we might walk away from all of this as friends. It will depend on how they react, though. As long as they are sensible…but, then again…mortals rarely are… Still, I’d love to speak to them. Hopefully, they can see reason.”