First of Frostmaire
Belkai opened her eyes to find herself in an ocean of gold. It took a few seconds to realise that she was back in the Hall of Zumani. Davos was seated beside her, staring blankly towards the altar. In another corner Vaskil spoke softly to the other Watcher, Eliana, both of them stealing glances at Belkai. She let out a groan and rubbed her head, trying to force out the pain that flooded through her body. Davos’ head whipped around and he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Welcome back,” he said quietly. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake.”
“How long?” she groaned. Davos glanced at the Watchers and sighed.
“My guess is three, four hours,” he said. “Vaskil and I had to drag you back here. How are you feeling?”
Belkai looked down at her hands, imagining that she could feel lightning reaching across her fingers. “Alive. More alive than before. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Davos nodded, and was about to speak when he saw Vaskil and Eliana draw close. Vaskil crossed his arms and said,
“Sorry to interrupt. We need to tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Belkai asked. She frowned as she sat up. “What is going on?”
Davos sighed. “It doesn’t sound like things are going well on the surface.”
“I just came down here,” Eliana said, her voice soft. “I heard explosions, screams, the sounds of war. Then it stopped. There were no horn blasts, no declaration of victory.”
Belkai bit her lip, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “So Raman is dead.”
Eliana nodded. “It would seem so. We are the last line of defence.”
“You took the crystal,” Vaskil said. “What happened?”
Belkai shook her head and drew a breath. “That is hard to explain. I felt fire, a fire so intense that I seemed to become one with it. And there was a light so blinding.”
She looked up at Davos and gave an amused smile. “The dwarves have no idea what they are chasing. I had to use my magic to control it, or else it would have killed me. It would have been their own destruction.”
Eliana shifted impatiently. “Belkai, they are drawing near. Can you fight?”
Belkai’s smile became one of amusement as she looked to the Watcher. “Like never before.”
“They’ll be coming this way soon,” Vaskil warned. “We’ll have to fight our way back out of this cave.”
Belkai tilted her head and closed her eyes, focusing on something that she sensed. When she opened her eyes, she had a look of grim determination. “They’re not the only ones coming. A force approaches from the north. Human and elf – Svaletan and Aliri marching together. Help has come.”
She looked up at Davos. “We will not wait for them here. We must fight on the surface, keep them away from that portal.”
“But you’ve already taken hold of the crystal,” he said with a frown.
“It’s still there, Davos,” she pointed out. “The crystal is a conduit, a source of magic – Narandir’s and my own, whatever that may mean. Others can obtain it. Even if it destroys them, they will still seek it. And they might just find it, now that we’ve killed the Protector.”
Eliana swore quietly. “We won’t last long out there.”
“We don’t have to last long,” Belkai said. She smiled at the worry on their faces. “I don’t mean it like that. The Aliri and Svaletans will reach the western defences within the hour. If there is any fighting there, they will break the siege. We are nearing the end. One last stand.”
Davos helped her to her feet and squeezed her hand. “Then let’s do this.”
Belkai took the dwarven axe that he offered, tossing the small weapon between her hands to get a feel for it. She nodded appreciatively. “As much as I despise Nimura, they have the best smiths.”
“They always have,” Vaskil affirmed. He grinned. “Does the Ascendant require a blade?”
“A wise person never goes without one,” Belkai replied. “Shall we?”
Vaskil summoned two black swords as he followed Belkai and Davos into the tunnel. Bringing up the rear, Eliana gripped a sword and whip, her eyes centred on the dark passageway. They made it most of the way without detection, until a single dwarf dropped from the latrine building and landed on the dirt floor with a thud. He stood, gripping his sword as he came face to face with the four making their way up the tunnel. Belkai didn’t give him the chance to call out a warning. His eyes locked on hers, he opened his mouth, but all that came out was a dying gasp as his lungs imploded. As he fell, his heart stopped, and he was dead before his armoured body hit the dirt.
Belkai didn’t stop, axe at the ready as she climbed out of the tunnel. A second later, a dwarf tumbled down the steps, and Davos put his sword through his throat. When he made it to the top, he found Belkai standing over two more fresh corpses.
“It’s Greywall,” she said without turning. “He’s out there, and about two hundred others. This was just a scouting party, seeing if there was an ambush waiting.”
“That’s too many, Belkai,” Davos told her as the two Watchers joined them. Vaskil and Eliana traded glances.
“We’re here to fight,” Eliana told her. “But Davos is right. There are too many of them. And they are skilled fighters.”
Belkai studied their faces for a moment, then smiled. “This Forest is alive. For the first time, I can truly understand what that means and what Mishtar has done.”
She knelt on the cold floor and crossed her legs, putting her hands on her knees.
“What are you doing?” Davos asked. There was no accusation in his voice, just a lack of understanding. Belkai didn’t open her eyes, but he could see amusement play out across her face.
“I’m fulfilling a promise. Now that I know how.”
Davos faded from her consciousness as she reached out and embraced Narandir. She quickly found the shades that she had spoken to and promised to free. For the first time she could sense the bonds that Mishtar had placed upon them, and she ran her mind over them, getting an understanding of what he had done. Only now did she grasp the shades’ connection, a silent communication always running between them. Your lord releases you, she silently whispered, and across the forest invisible chains shattered and disappeared. She could sense the shades’ confusion turn to exhilaration, and left them alone. They would fight soon enough.
She opened her eyes and looked up at Davos. “We have an army. It’s time to fight.”
He didn’t understand, but he knew enough to trust her. He nodded, and waved the others forward. Belkai picked up her axe and stood, a new passion in her eyes.
“They’re here.”
***
At first only a single dwarf emerged into the outpost. His armour was dented and dirtied, and his face was splattered with dried blood. He held a sword by his side as he stopped beside the watchtower, looking with tired eyes at Belkai and her companions, standing in a line before him.
“The scouts are dead then,” Greywall said, and Belkai nodded.
“This place is a tomb for too many, Greywall,” she said, and he could hear the mourning in her voice. “Don’t let it become yours.”
She cocked her head as she read his anger. “Or should I use your clan name, Nizali?”
Davos looked at her in surprise. It would be a severe insult to the dwarf to hear his clan name used by an outsider, let alone an enemy. Belkai didn’t seem to care.
“I sent you home to stop this war, Nizali,” she growled. “You said that you would warn them. Instead you brought death here.”
“I do not fear you, witch,” Nizali replied, and his fingers flexed on the sword hilt. “I know you can bleed. And what can bleed, can be killed.”
“It is too late for you,” she warned. “Right as we speak the combined armies of Svaleta and the Aliri are attacking your forces in the west. Special friends of mine are coming to the south.”
“I have seen your friends, and crushed their skulls,” Nizali spat. “Steel trumps magic, Belkai.”
She felt the arrow cutting through the air long before any physical senses would have detected it. She took a half-step back and slashed the air with her axe. The arrow hit the earth, sliced cleanly in two. Nizali looked at her with wide eyes. She smiled grimly.
“I’ll take my chances.”
Nizali barked something in his own tongue, and two dozen dwarves erupted from the trees. A volley of arrows sped through the air, and Vaskil and Eliana raised spectral shields over the group. Belkai kept her eyes locked on Nizali as the arrows broke apart, then began to advance on the charging soldiers. She let them get close before she struck. Two dwarves seemed to focus on her, hatred burned deep in their eyes. The first swung his axe at her chest, a killing blow against her leather armour. Belkai felt every movement of each muscle as he moved, and sent a pulse of energy through him that shattered the connection of every blood vessel, muscle, and tendon. He literally exploded, and she ducked as the axe was carried by its own momentum through the air before dropping to the dirt. The second dwarf tried to stop after seeing his comrade’s death, and slipped. Belkai’s arm shot out as he fell, and her axe tore his throat open. She stepped over him as he desperately fought for breath in his final seconds. Two more dwarves were torn apart by her glare, and she threw her axe, the blade lodging in the face of a third. She spun as another pair charged towards her with spears in hand.
“Vaskil!” she shouted. “Sword!”
He didn’t hesitate as he threw one of his spectral blades. Only in the second afterwards did he realise what he had done. A Watcher’s blade could not be wielded by any but the mage who summoned it. They gave part of their own life force to sustain the weapon, which was returned when it dissipated. To his shock, Belkai snatched the sword out of the sky and turned to her attackers, sundering their spear shafts before stepping in and cutting them down. A bright light seemed to shine around the sword as she cut her way through every dwarf that dared stand before her. Horns sounded, and more soldiers burst into the clearing. Davos followed Belkai, covering her flank as she fought her way towards Nizali. Vaskil and Eliana were huddled a few feet behind, fighting desperately to hold the dwarves at bay.
Belkai felt the air shift as she knocked a dwarf over and burst his heart. She looked up at Nizali and shouted,
“This is the end, Nizali.”
The dwarf shouted something back, but cut himself off as a black cloud suddenly filled the clearing. Belkai shouted for Davos and the others to stand still. Dark shapes seemed to appear in the cloud around them, then vanish moments later. Screams filled the air, along with the horrifying sound of tearing flesh. Davos spun as a dwarf came towards him, eyes wide with terror.
“Help me,” he pleaded, then a dark figure appeared and hauled him into the darkness. Davos took a step back, but Belkai put a hand on his arm.
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“We’re safe,” she promised quietly. “It’s almost over.”
And it was, a few seconds later, leaving Nizali standing in a field of shattered corpses. He looked around in shock, his body trembling with horror and fury. Belkai approached him, stopping just outside of arm range.
“This is the fury of shades,” she said. “I warned you, Nizali. I told you this place was a tomb. You never should have come here.”
He stared at the shattered body of one of his soldiers. “How…?”
“You wanted to see the Ascendant rise,” Belkai said. “She stands before you.”
“The Lord of Shadows-”
“Falkar is a fool, Nizali,” Belkai spat. “He sent vampires against my people, and I killed them. He sent the Sons of Retribution, and I killed them. I cut Kane’s head off, and I destroyed Adrianna with her own anger and hate. Everything that Falkar and Delorax sent against me, I have defeated. I will not bow, and if Falkar does not stop, he will not stand.”
“Are you going to kill me?” he asked.
Belkai shook her head. “No. I did not want anyone to die, Nizali. I did not choose this war. But I will end it.”
She turned to Davos. “Send Vaskil and Eliana to Lithmae, make sure he held the line. We need to get to Syndra.”
She felt Nizali move, and she spun around, grabbing his wrist and twisting it around. He gasped as he rammed into his own blade, the point breaking through a gap in his armour. Belkai let go and he fell to his knees, blood leaking from the wound. He looked up, his eyes still burning with hatred. He reached for the sword and pulled it loose, and Belkai stepped aside as the blood vessels gave way. She shook her head sadly and stepped over him as he collapsed. The prince of Nimura died alone in that dirt surrounded by his fallen comrades, a dozen yards from his prize. His pride had sealed his fate.
***
Syndra could have sworn it was the end of the world. For an hour now she had been trapped in place by the damnable shades, all while she could hear her people fighting and dying only yards away. The screams of the wounded rose above the war cries of both dwarves and elves, and Syndra added her own yells of frustration to the mix. She tried to remember the spells that her mother had taught her, but none had addressed fighting spirits. She was cut off, damned to listen to her people die.
She was losing hope when a new horn sounded, high pitched and causing her heart to leap. She didn’t recognise it, but only an elfhorn would have that affect. Whoever it was, they had alerted the circling shades, who shot into the forest.
“Forward!” Syndra called, and leaped to her feet, bow in hand. There was no time to waste. They fell upon the dwarves as they were reforming their lines to meet the new arrivals, and it was a slaughter as they rained death upon their foe. She let the others drive forward as she darted from tree to tree, taking down dwarven officers with her arrows. It was then that she saw her first elf that was not from Narandir. She looked only a little younger than Syndra, maybe eighty, with chestnut brown hair that would have fallen to her middle back if it hadn’t been held in a dark green wrap. Even at this distance, she could look into her grey eyes, so bright even as she directed her soldiers in their attack. She was young for a general, Syndra thought, though she knew little of the Aliri beyond their ethnicity. She tore her eyes away as a dwarf raised his sword to signal a charge. He made two steps before Syndra’s arrow caught him in the throat. The elven general called out an order and ran forward with a jagged blade held at face level. Syndra felt her blood run cold when she saw a group of dwarves in ambush. She sighted on one of them, then shifted. Her arrow ran true, missing the general’s nose by half an inch before lodging into a tree. She spun, raising her head to see Syndra waving a hand. She spread out ten fingers, then pointed to where the dwarves were preparing their strike. The Aliri nodded, then whispered orders to her soldiers, who kept advancing in the same line, though their eyes were locked on the ambush site – triggering it on purpose. Syndra admired their style. She didn’t shoot, letting the Aliri execute their plan. The general went first, leaping backwards as the ambush was launched by a dwarf swinging a hammer at knee-level. Syndra let fly, and her arrow caught him in the eye and threw him to the ground. She found her next target as he knocked an elf to the ground, and cut him down before he could deliver his killing blow. The fight didn’t last long, and the dwarves were regrouping when a second Aliri force struck from the rear, smashing through their broken formations and driving them back towards Syndra’s surviving forces. It didn’t take long for the last remnants of the dwarves to be either cut down or taken captive, and Syndra dropped out of the tree to make her way forward. She soon found Lasiri kneeling over the bodies of two Watchers. She joined her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“We lost too many,” Lasiri murmured. “Watchers weren’t trained for warfare.”
“None of us were,” Syndra agreed. “But we survived.”
Lasiri grunted. “I suppose so.”
Syndra looked up as she picked up a new, unfamiliar scent. It was the Aliri general, picking her way towards them. Syndra and Lasiri both rose to greet her.
“You were in the tree,” the Aliri said, and Syndra nodded. The elf gave a half bow. “Thank you. I am Faelin, general of the Aliri Empire eastern regiments. We heard Belkai’s summons, and come to Narandir’s aid.”
Syndra returned the bow. “I am Syndra. I’m simply a hunter, though Belkai allowed me to lead the western defences. Lasiri is the head of the Order of Watchers.”
“You are more than a hunter, I am sure,” Faelin said. “I have rarely seen such skill with a bow.”
Syndra felt herself blush and shrugged. “There are many opportunities to learn in Narandir.”
“I’m sure.” Faelin looked around at the wounded laid out on the ground. “We have good healers in our ranks. I’ll bring them forward. You did admirably.”
“There were shades aiding the dwarves,” Lasiri warned. Faelin nodded.
“They went south,” she said. “They seemed to have been summoned.”
“Syndra?” A young elf came up to them. “Belkai has requested your presence.”
“Bring her here,” Syndra told him. He bowed and disappeared into the bushes. Belkai and Davos emerged a few minutes later, both looking shocked at the wounded laid out before them.
“How many?” Belkai asked quietly. Syndra shook her head.
“It’s too early for a count,” she replied. “We still need to gather them all. I didn’t think that we would make it.”
“We wouldn’t have, if Faelin’s forces hadn’t arrived,” Lasiri added. Belkai looked at the Aliri general and nodded.
“I thank you for hearing our call,” she said. “We were not prepared for open war.”
“Few are,” Faelin agreed. She shifted uncomfortably before continuing. “You should know, Belkai, that a dragon was sent to attack Svaleta. The losses were significant – Farhad is dead. Alihad now rules. He sent a regiment with us, and they have gone ahead to the Forsaken Lands.”
Belkai felt Davos go rigid at the news. “The dragon?”
“I killed it myself,” Faelin replied. She didn’t see the shock on Syndra’s face. “I’m sorry, but we were too late to save everyone.”
“You did enough,” Belkai assured her. “And I thank you for your support.”
“We will march south once we are sure that Narandir is clear of the vermin,” Faelin told her. “I do not know if we can defeat the dwarves in their mountains, but we can stop them form bringing more forces north.”
“That I can accept,” Belkai agreed. “But you should be warned. If you march on Nimura, Falkar will intervene. He has not acted yet, but he will be unrestrained once we leave Narandir.”
Davos gave a grim smile, and sighed. “Then, I assume, he would face the wrath of the Ascendant.”
Belkai turned to him. “If you’re asking if I would kill Falkar, then I would say that it’s unavoidable. All we can do is choose the time and place.”
She turned to Faelin. “If you march south, you march against the gods.”
The elf’s eyes burned as she looked around the group and nodded. “Then let the Arcane burn.”
***
The sun was past its zenith when the first riders emerged from Narandir. Belkai was in the lead, Nizali’s sword sheathed on one hip, her obsidian dagger on the other. Faelin followed on her left, Davos on her right. Behind them came the combined forces of the Aliri and Svaletan. To the south Belkai could see smoke rising, the first sign of Wexburg’s assault from the west.
“What’s the plan, Belkai?” Davos asked as he came up beside her.
“We wait,” she replied. “Faelin, whatever happens, hold your positions. We have a chance of ending this without more bloodshed. At least, with a minimal amount.”
“If you say so.” The elf seemed uncertain, but she passed on the order to her herald, who rode off to inform the officers. Belkai looked out at the quiet countryside and shook her head.
“This isn’t right,” she murmured to Davos. “The dwarves are watching us. Falkar should know we’re here.”
She dismounted and walked ahead of the others, empty hands stretched out to the side. Where are you? There. She sensed a scout and turned towards him.
“Kizeem, rise!” she shouted. He did so, more out of shock than true obedience. Belkai smirked. They so craved the power of the Ascendant, but they had never known what they truly sought. “Call your Lord of Shadows. Tell him the Defiler wishes to speak.”
The scout hesitated, and Belkai took another step towards him. “Summon him!”
Kizeem dropped to a knee and began chanting something in his own tongue. Belkai looked back at Davos and shrugged. Sometimes you have to be a little dramatic.
Whatever the dwarf had spoken seemed to work. Belkai felt a gushing wind, and a column of smoke fell from the sky, exploding outwards when it met the earth. When it dissipated it revealed a thick-muscled man in steel armour. He stood seven feet tall, and glared at Belkai with wholly white eyes.
“The Defiler, in the flesh,” he growled. His voice was like a rumble in the foundations of the earth, deep and sounding the depths of their minds.
Belkai grunted and crossed her arms. “Falkar, King of the Dark. We have suffered much from your alliance with Delorax.”
His nostrils seemed to flare at her words of defiance. “You are no innocent. It was you who unleashed Ashelath and began this war.”
“A childish play, blaming the mortal for your own failure to control your charge,” Belkai spat. She cocked her head. “And now you come looking as a mortal would. Why is it, I wonder, that you spirits always crave to be one of us lesser beings, all while you claim to be above us. Why is it, I wonder? What do you lack that you crave from us?”
“Do you want to see your executioner in his true glory?” Falkar stepped back and smiled. “Then you shall have your wish.”
“Executioner?” Belkai scoffed. “You could not control Ashelath, and now you are Delorax’s pet. I have nothing to fear.”
Falkar opened his mouth and unleashed an animal roar unlike anything Belkai had heard before. She took an instinctive step back as the Arcane was covered in a deep, inky darkness. When it faded away, his true monstrosity was revealed. He looked like one of his own beasts; black leathery, wrinkled skin rippled with powerful muscle. Two long wings spread out from his back, and his mouth was pulled back in a sneer that showed jagged teeth ready to rip and tear flesh. His eyes were blood red with no pupils, and he stretched out his arms to the side.
“Behold the glory of Falkar!” he roared. “I am the Lord of Beasts, and I shall be the Scourge of Narandir.”
“You are a fool,” Belkai snapped. She drew both her blades and leaped forward to meet him. She made it two steps before a burst of energy from his wings knocked her to the ground. She hauled herself to her feet and shook her head to clear it. This wasn’t like fighting Ashelath. Falkar hadn’t joined himself to a mortal body, he had manifested his true self on the physical plane. He had sacrificed none of his power, and though he was one of the Lesser Arcane, he was far stronger than Ashelath could have ever dreamed to be. She raised her blades in defence, and reached out with her mind. His body had no organs, he wasn’t so attached to the physical that he required them, but she could feel his heart, for the want of a better term. The core of his energy was in his head, radiating throughout the rest of his body and extending into the air around him. She would need far more than her physical weapons to win this fight.
Falkar’s blow came hard and fast from the left side as he swung a clawed fist at her. She ducked, but didn’t block the wave of energy surrounding him, and she hit the ground again. She couldn’t take much more of this. She was still on the ground when he raised his foot, ready to slam it down on her head. She let go of her sword and threw out her hand. To her surprise, a shockwave shot out from her and threw Falkar backwards. His wings lifted him into the air as he recovered and snarled at her. Belkai rose to her feet, sword in hand, and felt a fire rushing through her veins. I know you, she thought, and let it rush through her without restraint. Her sword and dagger erupted in flames so hot that the grass beneath her turned black as she advanced. Falkar’s eyes seemed to widen.
“The fires of Belamin,” he hissed. “That is not possible.”
“It is now.” Belkai stepped forward, and as Falkar threw his wings forward to blast her backwards she crossed her blades, the fires raging and taking the brunt of the force. Her senses reached out and took hold of a wing, crumpling it just long enough to pull him to the earth. Now she rushed him, her blades of fire swinging with all of her might. He raised an arm, roaring as the flames singed his skin in the seconds before he lashed out and threw Belkai a few feet backwards. She lost the blades, and rolled onto her stomach in time to see Davos and Faelin approaching with sword raised.
“Stay back!” she screamed, and they both froze. You’re not alone, she heard a voice whisper, and a familiar presence drew close. The shades burst out of the Forest without warning, two dozen strong as they charged their master’s enemy. Falkar leaped backwards at the unexpected assault. The shades swirled around him, careful to stay out of reach, and he resorted to lashing out with blasts of his energy. Ear piercing squeals rang out as two shades evaporated out of existence. Out of the maelstrom came an otherworldly figure. Belkai advanced with yellow lightning wrapped around her hands, the wind from the shades blowing her hair across her face as she charged forward. Falkar saw her too late and as he turned to face the new threat she took hold of his arm and summoned her power, focusing it and sending a pulse of fire through him that would have incinerated a troll. Falkar was blown back ten feet, crashing to the earth in a heap. The shades pounced on him, pinning him to the ground even as he tried to catch them in his jaws. Belkai spotted her sword and picked it up before walking to the thrashing figure.
“You can’t stop what’s coming, Belkai,” Falkar hissed, and he went still as he focused on the mage. “Your death is written in the stars.”
Belkai grunted. “Perhaps. But not by your hand. You have the chance to live, Falkar. Narandir will never belong to the Arcane, but it is not worth your eternity ending here today.”
She sensed the shift in him. She had never been anything in his eyes until this moment, she realised. She had been some mortal who had done him a favour by killing Ashelath. Even his assistance in Delorax’s plot to kill her had been nothing personal.
“You know my thoughts.”
Belkai nodded, and the air shimmered as Falkar took on a human form again. Belkai gave a silent command and the shades released him. He wasn’t a warrior now, but an old man in a brown cloak. A peace offering.
“He will not be so easily persuaded,” the old man warned. “He killed Yulen and Belamin for their failure. I have lived an eternity. I did not die by my beasts, and I will not die at the hands of the Ascendant. But Delorax will not stop until your Forest is ash. You have no power to match him.”
“Depart from here,” Belkai said quietly. “But know that this land, this continent, is mine. And I tolerate no rivals.”
Falkar studied her for a moment, then spat on her as a strong wind blew and he disappeared from sight. Belkai stared off into the distance, not noticing Davos approach until he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Do you know what you just did?” he asked. She turned to face him, her eyes testifying to her weariness. He smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “You just stared down an Arcane.”
Belkai smiled, but it was forced. “There was a reason Falkar was set over Ashelath. Delorax is far more powerful. That fight will not be so easy.”
“Is that what is next?”
Belkai nodded slowly. “Tomorrow morning, we ride for Lustria.”