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Ben sat on the couch with Trisha’s hand clasped in his. They listened to Thomas’ explanation of his inscriptions being triggered, and his theory about the return of the Destroyer in whatever form it may be. The thought of that creature being alive again shook Ben to his core. There’s no way we can beat it if it’s still the same strength.
Thomas concluded by taking a sip from his flask. “You two deserved to know first. I am planning on going to investigate myself from above, and if I see indications, I’m going to James.”
“What do you think James will be able to do?” Trisha asked as she gripped Ben’s hand tighter. “He couldn’t take on the Demonic Dragon.”
Thomas grimaced, “I was going to see if he could help me convince King Kristoph to allow us to use the statue and summon new heroes.”
That statement caused Ben’s chest to seize up. “You’re saying we should rip more people from Earth and force them here? We know they won’t go back once this Destroyer is beaten – or else we would’ve gone back. You want to fuck up their lives?”
Thomas stood up and paced to the window, “If the Destroyer is back-”
Trisha stood up, “We won’t be involved. Let the kingdoms form alliances and fight like they did when we first arrived. I’m sure they can handle it. At least while we live our lives. We did our part.”
Thomas shook his head and turned to face the two, “King Kristoph may decide to use the statue of Aelor regardless. And if he does that…” he trailed off and stared ahead into space, as if lost in thought.
“What will happen?” Ben asked.
Thomas refocused on Ben, “Our mana cores will be removed and placed into the bodies of the next generation of summoned heroes.”
Ben felt his heart ice over. He had seen only one instance of a mana core being removed from a person while they were still alive. He, Trisha, Misty, Lyn, and Thomas had tracked down a rogue necromancer who was working on a magical plague. They didn’t want to kill him, but couldn’t let him keep using spells. Misty crafted a spell that allowed them to siphon his mana core, and she applied it to her own, consuming it under her Mage core. What was left was a shell of a man. A man who was effectively a lobotomized, walking corpse. We can’t let them summon more heroes. Not while we’re alive.
Thomas must have read Ben’s face and body language because he nodded, “Yup. That would suck.”
Trisha shook her head and Ben heard the fear rising in her throat as her voice cracked, “We can…James can…Someone can be strong enough, like Lyn was. What about Misty? Hasn’t she been training a bunch of spell users somewhere? She could handle it, right?”
Thomas shook his head, “I have a theory. I think I figured out how the statue works. If I can get my hands on it, I can pull the mana cores from…wherever they are, and make them physical. Then, we can find people to make heroes. Or, James could consume them, since the Paragon core is technically on a higher level than the rest.” He sighed and his shoulders drooped. “But…I don’t know if my theory will work. If it doesn’t…”
Ben stood up to his full height and walked over to Thomas, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing firmly. Not enough to injure, but enough to demonstrate the difference in strength. “Please…don’t do this. My family-”
“Will be like hundreds or thousands of other families if the Destroyer rises to power and decides to actually wage war on the world, instead of just sitting in his mountain fortress and daring heroes to attack. Only time will tell.”
Ben frowned, “Just…promise me you’ll come back here and let us know what you find out scouting, okay? Before you go tell James and try whatever plan you have with that statue.”
Thomas nodded firmly, “I promise.”
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Lyn met her army outside. A force of five-hundred. They spent the morning in the bright sun outside of the dread fortress forming new squadrons. She was extremely tired – having been up most of the night with Remora, Poweno, and their Military Advisors for the different units. Together they had come up with the best groupings of the soldiers for set squads. Lyn took inspiration from the Roman Legions. Two swordsmen and hammer-wielding warriors with shields to form a front. Two wielding spears to stab past their front line. And two archers to provide ranged support. We don’t have a huge army, Lyn had reasoned. So I should focus on highly-coordinated and elite strike troops.
They had also gone through painstaking effort to cross-reference the groups to switch out various external spell-type users, and tried to distribute the various spell-types equally. One issue she had come across was their lack of healers. It made some sense, given the level of body enhancement the warriors had undergone. But Lyn knew that having a dedicated group of healers would be vital in any prolonged conflicts.
As they finished forming their new groups Lyn stood atop an old, ruined tower. She was fully armored and raised her blade, letting the mana flow down her arm as it ignited – a beacon drawing her troops to attention. She had been dreading this moment. I always hated giving speeches. She shook away the memories of classroom presentations and stuttering her way through her slides. She had a plan. First, establish control of this valley and fortify it. A strong base of operations. Then, she could travel – get more mana cores, clear dungeons, and more importantly, track down the heroes and find out what happened ten years ago. But first…this. Rile them up. Play the leader role.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
She lowered her voice to the draconic growl, and it resonated outward and through the valley. You’re a goddamn Destroyer. Act like one. She felt the mana core in her chest, despite the armor that seemed to calm it, roil and churn. The mana flowed up her mana channels – into her neck and her brain. And she had an urge – a sudden urge. One she had never encountered before and felt completely alien. A desire to conquer. “My warriors! Today, we mark the creation of a new order! No longer will the Duskari cower inside the dread fortress. This day, we begin our expansion. From this fallen citadel, now known as Lynhold, we will secure the Valley of the Volcano. Look to your Marshal, and heed her instruction!”
Lyn felt the mana flowing about her head before it slowly trickled back to her torso. What the fuck did I just say? She knew she was talking; she heard the words she said. But…something else was driving the theme of the message. The only explanation she could come up with was that the Destroyer core was changing her personality faster than expected. She went down the ruins of the tower and sat upon one of the fallen chunks of rock as Remora instructed the squadrons in their tasks for the day – practice in the nearby territory using training weapons. Squad on squad combat to cement their group’s function.
But Lyn had no interest in that at this moment. This Destroyer core was changing her personality in a singular direction. To rule. To conquer. Not destroy and obliterate, but to…the best words Lyn could use to describe it was controlling everything. I never wanted to rule, she thought. I just want my glory and an easy life. She looked down at glowing mana-blade of Cataclysm. But as long as I have this mana core…that’s not happening.
She was at a crossroads. She could run. She was recovered enough, and knew Elenthir well enough that she could make an inscribed item for an illusion to her body and voice. She could just covertly find the heroes, approach them in the guise of the old Lyn they knew, and reclaim her glory. Or, she could embrace this new role she found thrust upon her. Looking at the various, clashing skirmishers that darted in and out of the woods, and seeing the spells being launched…she felt right. As if this was where she was meant to be. It’s probably just the core talking, she thought. Reflecting further, she felt a deep desire to fix things. She had the power, now, if she wanted, to take control.
She could be an enlightened, egalitarian monarch. Rule the world, ensure peace and prosperity in her empire, and create sweeping changes to improve the lives of every person. No more wars, no more strife, no civil war. Given her longevity as a Duskari, she could also bring people into a modern idea of equality and equity across races, cultures, and other divides. The more she thought on it, the more she liked the idea. I can reforge this world and make it better than anything else out there. No child would go hungry in her empire. Abusive parents would be punished. No one would have to suffer the childhood she had to suffer.
She tightened her grip on the blade as she recalled the nights where her father and mother screamed at her, locked her in her room, and refused to feed her. All because she accidentally chipped a goddamn plate doing the dishes. She remembered when her father beat her face and dislocated her arm when she had accidentally dropped juice on the carpet. The vile words, the cursing, the abuse – all of the rage she felt caused her mana core to bubble and surge violently in her torso, filling up the amulet to full near-instantly. Shit! She pointed the blade up and allowed the mana to course through it. The blade burned bright and the length extended. Surprisingly, the hilt also grew in her hands, and the wind enveloping the blade sharpened and lengthened as well. In an instant, she was holding a great sword.
There’s still too much mana, she thought. “Gael, Vael! Water pool. Now!”
The twins nodded, and in-sync, raised their palms towards a divot in the ground – remains from a siege long past. “En ethiel an le / thalion min / an aglaro / aechad / a mîr en-aear,” they both incanted at the same time, in perfect harmony. The water spell surged outward and formed a small pond in the divot.
Lyn ran over and held her hand above the pool, releasing the torrent of mana as it surged from her palm and into the water. She felt the mana lower from it’s boil back to a simmer, and as there was still some space left in the crater, she used some of the stored mana to give herself a buffer. She stopped the flow when the steaming pool was full. “My thanks.”
The twins nodded and Vael smiled, “Of course, my Lady.”
Lyn sighed and craned her head backward, taking in a deep breath and looking up to the skies. There, far off in the distance, she saw a winged creature. What the hell could that be? It’s way too big to be a bird.
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Thomas put his spyglass down as Hector circled the skies above the Valley of the Volcano. An armored figure, using lava spells, and wielding very similar weapons? There was no question in his mind – it was the Destroyer, returned. Fuck! He pulled his flask and took a deep swill from the bottomless container. The whiskey burned its way down his throat and filled him with a warm, buzzing feeling. There’s only one thing I can do now. He would go to Trisk, tell Ben and Trisha, and then go South-West to the kingdom of Khrelardia.
He knew James well enough that his plan should be convincing. They were friends, after all. The only two in their class who enjoyed trading card games. When they first arrived in Ghomar, the two fell in love with the fantasy world. Granted, Thomas wasn’t as big of a fantasy nerd as James was – but he liked the genre. If I can get James to consume the other Hero cores, then he might have a shot at beating the Destroyer.
As he began to guide Hector to turn, he heard a familiar noise. A whistling, coming from the forest and up towards him. He wheeled Hector around and spotted a glint of light that vanished. It was almost immediately followed by another whistling that was unmistakably a signal arrow. One he instantly recognized as it whistled Flight of the Valkyries as it flew through the sky before vanishing. Volio?
He guided Hector to swoop down to the forest below. The wyvern was well acquainted to open spaces and mountains – but flying in the forest was not unheard of for the species. Thomas scanned for a clearing as another whistling signal arrow went up. There! He guided Hector to the clearing and landed, sliding off of the mount. “Volio?” he asked.
The Archer hero emerged a few moments later from the tree line. His dirty, blonde hair and beard were covered with twigs and sticks. “Thomas, I knew it was you!” he ran up and gave Thomas a hug before letting him go. “Duskari are in the woods. I took a risk signaling you.” Volio gestured and the signal arrow he had fired appeared in his hand before he put it into the hip-quiver. Thomas noted that the hip quiver held specialty arrows for a variety of purposes.
Thomas narrowed his gaze, trying to dissect Volio's intent by sight alone. “We shouldn't be here...What are you doing here?”