----------------------------------------
Chapter LXV : Angkor Strikes
Earlmorn of Primoris, Sixteenth Day of Autumnmoon
----------------------------------------
Where there had been only wisps of orange and red, airships now dotted the western sky. One by one, the great hovering machines revealed themselves. Koba’s scholars and scouts had missed their approach. Now, they were nearly upon the city.
Bram’s warrior instinct flared to life. He donned his helm and took Rosa by the hand, leading her off the battlements. They descended the tower, weaving through dozens of Koban soldiers, who poured from the bastions, arms full of weapons and armor yet to be strapped on.
“Angkor approaches!”
Voices bellowed over the sound of the battle horn.
“Take your positions!”
“The battle is upon us!”
Bram and Rosa reached the city’s wide central avenue, which stretched from the Western Gate all the way to Loulan Palace. The portcullis was closed, but it held no power against an aerial assault. Fortunately, ballistae lined the streets, each with enchanted projectiles that could pierce through an airship’s armored hull. Wizards ascended the battlements, equipped with totems and enchantments. Behind them, sorcerers prepared blessings to enhance their scholarly brethren.
Rosa was about to join her ranks when Bram caught her arm.
“Wait! If Angkor breaks through the defenses, meet me at the palace. We need to be there to protect the sunstone.”
Rosa nodded, and Bram admired her look of strength and determination. He loosened his grip, and she withdrew to meet her comrades. As his fingers slid from hers, a chasm widened in his heart. He longed to cross the divide, but she had already disappeared into the crowd.
A voice beckoned from behind. “Sir Morrison! Your attention, please.”
He turned to face a middle-aged Koban general.
“Come this way. The others are waiting.”
Bram had agreed to fight alongside the City Defenders, brave warriors who represented the first line of defense. Assuming the fleet paradropped soldiers into the city, he’d put his skills in hand to hand combat to good use. Given Loulan’s heavy fortifications, he knew a ground siege from the surrounding plains would be ineffective. Rather, Angkor would deploy ground troop via magically assisted descent, as soon as they disabled the city’s armaments.
His response was simple. Koba’s scholars would make sure the bombs never detonated, while Bram dealt with any soldiers that managed to glide over the walls. His best hope was that the ships wouldn’t make it past the perimeter. With all the ballistae and scholars ready to fire back, the battle could end in a stalemate, forcing Angkor to retreat for refueling.
The general eyed him skeptically. “I hope the emperor’s faith in you is well placed. Many of our maneuvers this morn are based on your intelligence.”
Bram faced the man confidently. “I know you doubt, General, but I’m willing to risk my life to protect this city. The best thing you can do is to follow my lead.”
The general didn’t look reassured, but he motioned for Bram to join his comrades, nonetheless. Bram memorized their faces. The men would never understand the full extent of their valor that day. As far as they knew, the sunstones were antiquated, ceremonial, obsolete relics. They knew nothing of the Ahrimen, or the true danger of an Angkorian victory. Instead, all they saw was a battle against Angkorian tyranny. Either way, it gave them courage.
Bram watched the airships approach, and his heart sank. He expected them to slow their advance as they assessed Koba’s defenses, but instead they pressed forward at full speed. Either their pilots were blind to being in the crosshairs of deadly ballistae, or their captains ordered them onward, regardless.
He watched the first wave of cast-iron projectiles glide through the air with magically enchanted strength and precision. There were several direct hits, followed by explosions of wooden splinters, trails of smoke, and balls of fire as the ships crashed into nearby hills.
Thunderous booms reverberated off the city’s walls as wizards called forth fire and lightning. Streaks forked across the skyline, coating the air with scents of phosphorus. Bram’s brothers-in-arms gripped their weapons with white knuckles, as a head-on attack now seemed inevitable. Despite the destruction of more than a dozen ships, Angkor pushed ahead brazenly.
A bead of sweat rolled down Bram's cheek as he realized his enemy’s brute force strategy. Whoever led the invasion intended to sacrifice as many men and ships as it took, with no regard for casualties. He gritted his teeth, angry at the total disregard for life. The men on those ships were his enemy, but they had once been kinsmen. Very likely, they were under the Ahriman’s spell and unable to choose for themselves. They were lambs being led to the slaughter.
The Koban soldiers struggled to reload, sallow faces drenched in sweat. The scholars pushed their spellcasting to the limit, swaying as their magic sapped more from their bodies than they could withstand. Bram heard their collective breath each time an airship came within range, followed by a unified exhale whenever the same ship descended in a trail of smoke. As much as the Kobans struggled to keep pace, Bram knew that Angkor had the numbers to endure. As soon as the first of their fleet crossed the city’s perimeter, they unleashed.
Fire and rock rained down as the ships emptied their payloads. The wizards used the last of their manna to detonate a few in midair, while the sorcerers cast protective barriers to protect their nearest kin. Chunks of stone and mortar flew in all directions. Bram narrowly dodged a hunk of rock, but a few of his comrades weren’t as lucky. Bloodstains from crushed soldiers painted the main street.
Terror-stricken, the men scattered. Bram’s armor withstood smaller projectiles, but he kept nimble to avoid the larger ones. He struggled to save others, with so many running for cover. He did what he could to shove one man aside to avoid being crushed by a falling wall, while grabbing another by the hand who had fallen and was nearly trampled. Even so, there was too much destruction, and too many to save.
Amid the confusion, small objects started to appear high above, beside the airships. The bombs subsided, but something else drifted downward in slow spirals. Bram knew what they were. He had seen them atop Mount Abakai, kept airborne with the wings of insects. Libicocco’s demonspawn.
This time, their insect appendages brandished weapons, and their bodies were protected with helms and breast plates. To think that Angkor would give equipment intended for men to these monsters left no doubt that the military was under the Ahriman’s evil spell. These creatures, with their unmistakable insect faces, compound eyes, flailing antennae, and crushing mandibles struck horror and panic among the City Defenders.
“Wh-what manner of rogue wizardry is this?”
Their voices shook with fear.
“Spawn now f-f-fight alongside the enemy? Wh-what are we to do?”
Bram stepped forward with sword drawn. “We fight back!”
He saw their hesitation, but he was unwilling to back down now. “Come on, Koba. Steel yourselves! It matters not what brought these monsters into battle. What matters is the safety of Loulan and your loved ones. Destroy the beasts! Claim victory!”
With a war cry, he leapt into the fray, swinging his sword at one of the demonspawn. It attempted to parry with a buckler attached to one of its appendages, but Bram’s Gnostic blade cleaved right through it. Shortly after went the creature’s head. The body turned to ash before it even hit the ground.
Bram’s success bolstered the soldier’s morale, and they followed suit. They seemed to forget the monstrous nature of their enemy, and instead downed their targets one at a time. Some of the demonspawn fell easily, but others were well armored and appeared to be of a larger, warrior class. Bram took these on himself.
He danced from one opponent to the next, switching between front and flank. His sword weaved, parrying one target’s sword while delivering a fatal strike to another. He kept his mind alert, using his armor’s enchantments to keep one step ahead. The enemy’s numbers were many, but vigor and anger fueled his body. His sword glowed violet with emotional synergy, its power heightened by his rage. It cleaved through iron, as if it were tattered rags. His fury was his enemy’s demise.
As he felled the last of the threats, the crowd erupted with cheers. He stepped back to examine the dusty husks of demonspawn, which littered the main street alongside the blood of fallen comrades. It seemed the enemy had been vanquished.
“No … it can’t be over yet.”
He knew better, but his voice was drowned out by cheers and acclamations. The Kobans celebrated, but Bram was certain more would come. He looked east, toward the palace, and watched in horror as one more ship appeared.
It was galleon-class, and its immeasurable size blotted the rising sun. He recognized the Goliath, first spotted in the wake of Rungholt’s destruction. Here it was, again, now that Koba’s resources were nearly depleted. Angkor’s mothership sailed, unopposed, while the defenseless gates of the palace awaited its arrival.
Frightened murmurs trickled through the crowd as it cast its looming shadow upon them. Soldiers scrambled to load one last projectile, while wizards closed their eyes to concentrate on one final spell. Unfortunately, these attacks bounced harmlessly off of the ship’s impenetrable armor.
“Damn it!” Bram cursed, realizing the other ships were meant as nothing more than a distraction. Their sacrifice paved the way for the Goliath to reach its ultimate goal.
“Gaia, help us!” one of the soldiers cried.
Bram’s chest tightened. Only a handful of men remained at the gates of the palace. Based on his own advice, Zhao positioned the majority of his forces at the west walls to provide a powerful, first line defense. He counted on stopping Angkor from ever making it past.
All that remained were those who volunteered to be the last bastion of defense for Zhao and the sunstone. These included Quon’s and Józef’s warriors, as well as Zhao’s palace guard. It was a powerful contingent, if fighting against a potential spillover of ground troops. But it fell far short against the manpower and weaponry of Angkor’s strongest airship.
Yuri was there, too.
Bram cursed, again. Even at full sprint, it would take him twenty minutes to reach the palace. The defenses were unlikely to hold that long, but Bram bolted, anyway. He pushed himself harder than he ever had, blood churning through his veins, driving his muscles forward. His tendons burned, but he used every ounce of strength and stamina. He had no doubt, no hesitancy—only supreme focus to reach his destination. His ears pounded, but hope drove him forward. His legs screamed, but he persisted. He almost didn’t hear when somebody called his name.
“Bram!”
He stopped short, recognizing Rosa’s voice. He didn’t realize how hard he had pushed himself until his head swam and he started to lose his footing. He braced himself against a nearby wall, completely sapped of strength. Fortunately, Rosa’s magic soon fell upon him, melting the fatigue and leaving him more rejuvenated than ever.
“We can’t get there by running, Bram.” She extended her arm. “Grab on!”
Bram folded his gauntlet around her delicate white and blue sleeve. As she recited the words of her spell, the street ahead warped and bent. Without needing to move his feet, the cobblestones rushed past underneath. Blocks of buildings whizzed around him at blinding speed. Avenues blurred. It lasted only seconds, until Bram found himself on the bridge outside the palace gates.
He blinked a few times to orient himself. “Rosa, that was incredible!”
She beamed. “A trick I learned from Yuri. It seems their magic has some overlap with mine.” Her euphoria fell, and her expression turned dour. “We must keep them safe, Bram. I don’t care what else happens.”
He looked straight into her eyes and promised. “We will.”
He took her hand and ran toward the palace gates, removing his helm so the guards would recognize him.
The thick iron plates to the inner courtyard slid to the side as he approached. Just as quickly, they shut behind him. Józef’s Kitezhians and Quon’s Kenju ran to meet him.
“What in the Burning Pits is that thing?” The young king pointed at the approaching airship. “It’s huge!”
Bram explained. “It’s the Goliath. Angkor calls it a galleon-class design. It was part of the fleet that attacked Rungholt, and its weaponry is unmatched. It only managed to reach the palace because Angkor was willing to sacrifice the rest of their fleet just to clear a path.”
Quon asked a sensible question. “How do we defeat it? It looks impossible to shoot down, but even if we did, its crash would cause immeasurable damage!”
Bram shook his head. “Koban weaponry won’t breach its hull. Fortunately, I don’t think they intend to open fire.”
Józef’s eyes darted back and forth. “How can you be sure? They left our castle in ruins!”
Bram was certain. “This is different, Your Majesty. At Rungholt, they planned to occupy the city, so they needed to shut down the government completely. This time, they’ve cleared a path straight to the sunstone. If they deploy Goliath’s weapons, they’ll have to sort through the wreckage, and they won’t have time before those from the western gates arrive with reinforcements. Instead, I believe they’ll paradrop troops straight into this courtyard, and attempt to break through with brute force.”
Quon’s eyes widened. “How many men? They can fit quite a few aboard a ship that size. Do we have the manpower to hold them off?”
Bram lowered his head. “They’ll outnumber us at least ten to one. And they have a secret weapon … demonspawn. We already fought some at the gates. Angkor will deploy them first to wear us down, then send human troops to finish us off.”
“What?” Józef squeaked. “What do we do?”
Bram shook his head. “We have no choice. We must hold them off until reinforcements arrive. There are hundreds, still at the west wall, and they should reach us in less than an hour.”
Quon’s lips tightened. “We can’t last that long. Are there no other options?”
Bram met the Kenju Master’s gaze. There was no easy way to say it. “Allow Rosa and me to escape the city with the sunstone. If we don’t … I don’t think our chances are good.”
Quon frowned and shook his head. “The emperor has already spoken.”
Bram fumed. He knew his suggestion went against Zhao Peng’s wishes, but it sure seemed better than Angkor gaining a third sunstone.
“Do you have any other ideas? We don’t have much time!”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Quon clearly struggled. His eyes squeezed shut, as if he frantically searched for another option. “Fine. Get inside and tell the emperor what you told me. I’ll defend the gates and buy you some time.”
He clearly seemed displeased with the concession, but Bram wasn’t about to argue further.
He held out his hand to Józef. “Come, your Majesty. It isn’t safe here.”
Józef looked uncertain. Bram knew the young king wanted to prove his bravery, but he was green to battle and wouldn’t survive this kind of assault.
“Please, Sire. The people of Koba have seen your valor, but you must survive to rebuild your nation. Besides, we can’t leave the emperor on his own.”
Józef hesitated, but he eventually acquiesced. He called his men close. “You there, assist the Kenju in defending the gates, while you … come with me to watch over Emperor Zhao.”
Between the emperor’s personal guard and Quon’s Kenju, forty stood in defense of Loulan Palace’s gates. All were trained veterans, annealed by the fires of combat. A single Kitezhian joined his king, along with Bram and Rosa.
Not a moment too soon. The shadow of the Goliath fell upon them, and the first wave of demonspawn descended. Fortunately, these creatures lacked in intelligence what they made up for in strength and brutality. Without the spheres to produce endless amounts, Bram believed the defenses would buy him time.
He cut down the enemy, while Józef and his Kitezhian pulled open the heavy outer doors. Rosa backed him up, throwing bolts of magical force that knocked the creatures off their feet, while Bram delivered the kill. They were a highly efficient team.
As soon as he saw a clear path, he took Rosa by the hand and dashed inside. The Kitezhian soldier shut and barricaded the door behind them. It was only a temporary measure. Bram knew there were other ways inside, so he wasted no time running through the grand foyer toward the Gaian temple in the palace’s lower chambers.
Eons ago, the Ancient Gaians built temples all over the world, but only a few remained. Loulan Palace had been built around one of these temples, protecting the sunstone throughout the ages. At the center of the palace, a stairwell led down to the old shrine.
The last of the emperor’s personal guard met Bram and the others at the bottom and quickly ushered them inside. The temple was shaped like a cross, with each end representing one of the four sunstones. Toward the center, wide marble columns held up a dome around an enormous nave. Gold-inlaid mosaics decorated the walls, displaying artful scenes. Zhao Peng was in the nave’s center, his gnarled hand gently atop Yuri’s shoulder. The child looked nervous, more out of sorts than usual.
The emperor’s voice reverberated around the wide interior. “Sir Knight … if you’re here, I must presume the enemy has reached the gates.”
Bram nodded somberly. “Master Nan and his Kenju still defend the entryway, along with the Palace Guard, but we don’t have much time before Angkor forces their way in.”
Zhao sighed and shook his head slowly. “At first, it was difficult to believe that Angkor could seize control of the Ahrimen … but now, there can be no doubt. With the enemy upon us, I fear … there is nothing left to protect us.”
Bram wasn’t ready to give up. “That’s not true, Emperor. Allow Rosa and me to escape with the sunstone. We’ll flee the city, and keep it out of Angkor’s reach. Please, before it’s too late!”
Zhao’s expression turned even graver. “Sir Morrison … you know not what you ask!”
Bram intended to protest, when he heard a blood curdling gasp from the entryway. Zhao’s personal guard stood there, with the tip of a spear protruding from his gut. A cloud of frozen air hovered at its tip, the unmistakable sign of an ice enchantment. The room stared in disbelief as the owner of the spear yanked it free and sent the body forward with a boot to the back.
Bram’s countenance darkened. The moment he had long dreaded finally arrived. The man holding the spear was none other than a dear friend from his past.
“Stand back,” he told his friends. “Get to the sunstone’s chamber. Now! This is my battle.”
Under his stern gaze, no one dared challenge him. Józef took Zhao, Rosa, Yuri, and his Kitezhian kinsman, and directed them to the sunstone’s chamber.
Left on his own in the temple’s nave, Bram confronted his former friend, with sword drawn. “I knew I’d have to face you one day.”
Kane approached and spat at his feet. “I waited for this moment, you son of a bitch! You left me for dead. You betrayed your king and your country. And worst of all, you betrayed our friendship. Now it’s payback!”
Rage broiled beneath Bram’s helm. He couldn’t let this sociopath rewrite his story. “What about you, and the ideals that once defined you? You worked hard, went to the Academy, and joined the Royal Guard so you could help people. Yet now you’re willing to commit genocide? Out of greed, no less? You would stand there and pass judgment on me?”
Kane swung his spear against one of the columns, sending a shower of ice to the marble floor. “So says the Gnostic Knight. Don’t you remember the nickname they gave you? ‘Deathbringer’? I wonder how many civilians you killed to earn that title.”
The words stung. Bram wanted to forget the darkest days of The War, and what he had to do as a Knight. It wasn’t fair to bring it up now, but Kane seemed to realize he had found the right scab to pick.
He wore a wicked grin. “I figured you must have enjoyed it, too, based on the stories I heard.” He chuckled. “Your hypocrisy is staggering. Tell me: what did it take for you to switch sides? Was it worth it?”
Bram squeezed the hilt of his sword, until it dug deeply into his palm. “This isn’t about choosing sides, you fool! It’s about defending humanity! Richard is gathering the sunstones to control the Ahrimen, four demons that almost destroyed the entire world. Did you even know, or are you still ignorantly following his orders?”
Kane scoffed. “Forget Richard. He was always a pawn, and he’s long since slipped into madness. I’m doing this for something bigger, and the Ahrimen are just a means to an end. A step toward the greatest gift mankind could ever receive. Beyond mere riches or influence. Do you want to know, Bram? About our ultimate goal? Why we’re pursuing the sunstones?”
A part of him wanted to understand Kane’s motivation. But another part feared knowing. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is worth unleashing demons into the world. I don’t care what you’ve been promised.”
His old friend paused, looking annoyed. “Would you still feel the same, knowing the reward at the end is power over life and death? Consider what it would mean, if you could bring back the ones you’ve lost. Your father, for instance. Surely, that’s worth a bit of sacrifice. Isn’t it?”
Kane’s hubris took on new meaning. Even if what he said was true, it wouldn’t be worth living in a world with the Ahrimen. If Kane thought otherwise, he was a fool. His Old Self would have turned his weapon against such a monster.
Bram pointed with his sword. “You think Jack would want to live, knowing his life came at the expense of thousands of others? Not to mention what kind of life it would be, in a world ruled by demons!”
Kane looked exasperated. “You still don’t get it! The power we seek transcends the Ahrimen. Anyone we sacrifice along the way can be brought back. We can create a world where no one feels pain or suffering. It’ll be a world in which we can live forever!”
It was Bram’s turn to scoff. “Power over life and death … immortality … you want to live like a god. Is that it? What makes you think you deserve it?”
Kane shook his head. “Stubborn, as always. Now you’re arguing philosophy. Perhaps none of us deserve it, but I still won’t let anything stand in my way to achieve it. Certainly not you.”
It was true, Bram was stubborn. He embraced it. He had already had enough lies and empty promises on his journey. Only one thing was certain: the Ahrimen were nothing but a scourge. A path to ruin and destruction. Anyone who enabled them had to be destroyed.
His sword weighed heavily in his clenched fist, but he eased a bit when he saw a figure by the entryway, behind Kane. A Gnostic approached, his cape fluttering in an unseen breeze. Kane looked over his shoulder. Upon seeing the Knight, he dropped to his knees and prostrated himself.
Bram was astonished. Royals never showed deference to a Gnostic, much less grovel at their feet.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The Knight stepped forward and removed his skull-shaped helm.
Bram recoiled, now more awe-struck than ever. The man’s appearance was strikingly similar to his own. His sepia skin and silvery hair, the exact same tone. If it weren’t for the close-cut beard, shaped to his jawline, he could have been Bram’s twin.
The Knight seemed to relish his counterpart’s discomfort. He spoke in a deep, baritone voice, which carried an air of confidence and authority.
“At last we meet, Abraham. I am Samuel.”
Bram pulled himself out of his trance and resumed the crushing grip on his sword hilt. “What have you done to Kane? He’s nothing like the man I remember!”
Samuel laughed. “And you think I hold something over him? Nonsense. Kane serves out of loyalty, because of our shared interests. I told him the truth, and he obeys out of honor and respect. Nothing he says is out of fear or magical influence, if that’s what you think.”
Kane rose to his feet. “My Lord, I know our time is short. Please, allow me to strike him down, so that we may obtain the sunstone.”
The corner of Samuel’s mouth turned upward, almost wide enough to expose teeth. “Very well. Let it be your first test.”
The Royal readied his spear and directed his ire toward Bram. “This time, you won’t have an aeon to aid your escape.”
Bram raised his own weapon, ready to challenge the abomination standing before him. The boy he remembered—his truest friend … the one he trusted with his life and wanted by his side more than anything—was dead. Murdered by a Gnostic Knight who looked just like him. Whether from honeyed words or by Kane’s own greedy choices, the result was the same. The light from within was now fully extinguished. All that remained, bearing an icy spear, was a dark and twisted husk. A mockery that had to be destroyed.
A voice escaped his clenched teeth. “You won’t escape this time, either.”
He buried all doubts and hesitance in a place where they had no hold. Something cried out from within, begging him to reach out to his friend, but it could no longer hold him back.
Two blinks later, Kane crossed the nave and was mid-swing with his enchanted spear. Bram parried and quickly sidestepped, creating a clash that littered the air with crackling, silver sparks.
“Good.”
Samuel praised his pupil, enraging Bram even further. He filled his dark sword with enmity. Kane ran at him, and he engaged.
The Royal arched his back, narrowly dodging Bram’s slash. He used that momentum to spin around, striking Bram in the back, before he had a chance to react. Spears were terrible as blunt instruments, but Bram still felt an icy jolt of pain. He ignored it and rallied forward.
He rolled, positioning himself to Kane’s side, and bolted upright. He swung in midair, parried another blow, and landed on his feet. He struck again, this time with a clash that sent arcs of electrified energy across the nave.
Samuel looked pleased, but it was time to end it.
Bram thrust his sword, but Kane jumped straight up with inhuman agility. While high in the air, he swung his spear and cut one of the massive stone columns straight through! Bram dashed to avoid chunks of marble and mortar as they tumbled downward. With the buttress now in pieces, a plume of stone and dust billowed down from the dome in the middle of the ceiling. Any more damage, and the temple itself was liable to collapse.
All the while, Samuel stood on the sidelines, arms crossed. Watching. He did not interfere, nor did he flinch as rock and mortar exploded in all directions. His expression was blank and calculating—the true enemy, Bram knew. He must have used the power of an Ahriman to bolster Kane’s strength. Most likely his own, too. Bram needed to get close enough to strike. He needed to get past Kane.
He remembered an old fake-out that tripped Kane once before. While parrying with his sword, he stuck out his leg. Kane thrusted and fell for the maneuver, tumbling to the floor. Bram seized his opportunity to tackle the Royal from behind. In one continuous motion, he jumped on his former friend’s back and used his full weight to bash Kane’s head into the floor. The move should have been lethal, but Kane merely looked dazed. Bram kicked away his spear.
Samuel shook his head. “Disappointing.”
Bram was ready to finish his opponent, when he noticed Samuel unsheathe his sword. The blade glowed with untold enchantments, outshining Bram's by several orders. He turned away from Kane’s limp body to confront his true enemy.
He took the first shot, hoping to catch Samuel off guard. As quick as lightning, the Knight matched his motion, and a thunderclap of magic erupted. Dust rose from the floor, covering the chamber in a billowing cloud of powdered marble. Bram jumped aside, his lungs coated with fine-grained particles. He coughed, trying to keep mobile and out of his enemy’s reach. As the haze cleared, he saw the true strength of Samuel’s attack. Bram’s Gnostic sword lay shattered, its pieces scattered along the floor.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. No known force was capable of breaking through a Gnostic’s blade. His fist still clenched around the useless shaft, which he gawked at with dumbstruck eyes. He threw it away and backed up against one of the remaining columns. Kane had regained his footing. Having recovered his weapon, he advanced.
Bram resigned himself to fate, knowing he had lost. There was no escape.
Before Kane could run him through with his spear, a bright light flashed. He shielded his eyes and heard a crash from the opposite side of the nave.
He peeked with one eye open to find Kane incapacitated, sprawled on the ground in front of a dented column. Rosa emerged from the sunstone’s chamber, the incantation of another spell on her lips. While Kane staggered, she helped Bram to his feet and stood ready with her magic.
Nearby, Samuel threw back his head and laughed. The same hollow voice bellowed condescendingly. “Twice, this trash has bested you, Kane.”
Rosa turned to meet the Gnostic Knight, already mid-gesture with her spell. She called forth a bolt of powerful energy, but he deflected it effortlessly. Bram saw the look in Rosa’s face when she realized her opponent was capable of red manna. She realized her fatal mistake too late. Samuel uttered his own words of power, and Bram’s most cherished treasure fell to the floor in a heap.
The loss hit him harder than he could have imagined.
“Rosa! No!”
He was helpless. Out of pure desperation, he ran toward Samuel with bare hands, hoping to wrestle him to the floor. But his muscles seized up. All over his body, his skin felt the cold pinpricks of wizardry. His body froze, paralyzed.
Samuel looked at the crumpled body on the floor. “So … this is the famous Rosalyn Reynolds. A pity I must destroy her.”
He mouthed the words of another spell when an unexpected voice called out.
“Wait!”
Kane approached, his face bloodied, and his body covered in white powder. He raised his hands, looking submissive. “You shouldn’t kill her. She’ll be useful to us.”
Samuel eyed him skeptically. “Then she’s your responsibility.” He spoke coldly and patronizing, like a parent to a child who had found a new pet.
“I’ll take her to the ship,” Kane promised.
Samuel nodded. “Go, then. I’ll be there shortly.”
Kane did as he was told. Bram watched his former friend hoist the woman he loved onto his shoulders and leave the shrine. He desperately tried to move, but his muscles were concrete, held by Samuel’s magic. Tears of anger and frustration flowed as he strained every fiber of his being.
Samuel curled his finger. “This way, Abraham.”
Like a puppet, Bram’s muscles obeyed the Knight’s magic. He tried with all his might to fight it, but he was held fast. In his arrested state, only his voice remained under his control. So he used it, hoping to learn something about his opponent’s identity, the unknown Knight, who looked so much like him.
“Who are you, really? What is this truth that managed to earn Kane’s loyalty?”
Samuel gave his captive nothing but side eye. “He told you already, did he not? There will be time for more questions later. First, you will retrieve the sunstone.”
Bram grinned. “You’ve exposed your weakness, Samuel. Using me to retrieve the sunstone? Virgil tried that, once. I wonder, what stops you from handling it, yourself?”
The Gnostic matched his smile. “These casual observations will be no help to you.”
Bram pressed harder. “I saw the Goliath at Rungholt. You were there, weren’t you? You must have the power to unlock sunstones. Do you not?”
Samuel stopped in his tracks. He said nothing, but Bram detected a hint of displeasure, suggesting he was on the right track.
“I’m not blind to our resemblance, you know. You must be a descendant of Remiel’s tribe, just like me. Don’t deny it. You knew who I was, even though we’ve never met. You’ve been observing me for a long time, haven’t you?”
Samuel glared at him, his dark eyes as hollow as his voice. “Obey, and all shall be revealed. For now, though, it’s better if you remained ignorant.”
Bram had no intention of obeying, but he needed to stall. Anything to protect the sunstone. “What are you planning to do to Rosa?”
Samuel chuckled. “Ask your friend. She’s of no interest to me. Perhaps Kane wishes to get to know her more … intimately.”
Bram’s whole body shook with rage. That Samuel would dare to jest at such a thing! He wiped the thought from his mind, but his muscles nearly burst. He struggled against Samuel’s magic, but it still held him tightly.
“Bastard! The moment you let down your guard, I’ll kill you!”
“Enough.” Samuel’s voice exuded authority. Though his eyes flared, he carried little emotion. “My patience is worn thin. Walk this way.”
Before entering the sunstone’s chamber, Samuel reached inside his waist bag and removed an object. A sunstone. Clearly, he needed the power of an Ahriman in his hands to overcome the AMF of the temple’s inner chamber. As Bram entered, he felt the magical hold over his body waver. But it wasn’t enough to break free.
He saw the watchful eyes of his friends as he approached. It felt humiliating. Zhao, Józef, and the Kitezhian soldier understood right away that Bram was no longer in control. The soldier unsheathed his sword.
“Don’t,” Bram pleaded. “Nobody needs to die here today. I’ll think of something, I swear!”
In the center of the room was a glass table. Koba’s sunstone stood on top. Its clear, quartz-like surface looked like any other gemstone. It was easy to forget that the fearsome power of an Ahriman rested within it. Bram’s hand did as Samuel commanded. But, before he could take hold, a voice cried out.
“S-s-s-stop!”
Zhao attempted to hide the child behind him, but they slipped past. Bram felt a deep, crippling panic as he saw Samuel’s gaze shift in interest.
He looked enthralled. “What’s this? I sense powerful magic from this child. No … incredible magic! And, something else ….”
“Don’t touch her!” Bram threatened. His muscles bulged as he clashed against the force that held him.
Samuel ignored him. He bent down, extending a gauntleted hand toward the child. As Yuri stepped forward brazenly, a light glowed from beneath their shirt. Against Bram’s protests, Samuel reached out and curled his fingers. The silver chain around Yuri’s neck was pulled by an unseen source, revealing the dark pendant underneath. It floated in midair, radiating energy. Bram realized it reacted to the sunstones, which both lit up in unison, sending pulses that rattled him all the way to the bones.
Samuel regarded the pendant with hungry eyes. He reached for Yuri’s wrist and grabbed hold. The child struggled to free themselves, but Samuel pulled harder. He tightened his grip, and Yuri whimpered.
“Yuri!”
The child’s imminent danger awakened something in Bram. He felt renewed strength, driven by the need to protect someone he loved. He jerked and heaved and finally wrenched himself free from Samuel’s spell. In one fell swoop, he lunged at the Kitezhian’s sword. Before Samuel could react, he drew the blade from its sheath and plunged it between the armored plates of his shoulder.
Samuel howled in rage and released the child from his grip. They ran back to Emperor Zhao, who placed himself protectively in front. Samuel faced Bram directly. He bared his sunstone and chanted powerful words of magic. His outstretched fingers sent forks of lightning into Bram’s body, incredible heat that fried his insides. Muscles and organs cooked. Blood boiled. Skin charred.
“Remiel! No!”
The words came from Yuri’s mouth, but they were not theirs. Through red, blurry vision, Bram saw a golden hue surround the child, and a portal of blue light appeared. A gigantic, monstrous, serpentine claw emerged, attached to an arm that extended outward. Samuel ended his spell and sidestepped before the claw attempted to grab him. He redirected his magic, but his shards of lightning bounced harmlessly off the monstrous appendage. It clawed at him, and it looked like Samuel strained, just to hold it back. The Knight looked furious. And desperate.
Bram fell to his knees, as smoke tumbled from his Gnostic armor. Every nerve screamed in agony, and his vision went dark. Before it was gone, he saw Samuel make a go for Koba’s sunstone. Fingers wrapped around, and the moment they made contact, it pulsed with a deep, menacing red. Shortly after, Samuel’s body disappeared in a wisp of black smoke.
Bram was spent. The pain was unbearable. More than he could endure.
Darkness descended. Deathbringer welcomed it.