Sixteenth of Nirakos
Year 1182 of Emancipation
This was the place, Belkai thought as she came to the top of the hill and looked back towards Narandir. Only a month ago she had stood upon this rise and given her companions one last chance to turn back. Davos, with his heart fully set on Belkai. Loranna, driven to help a foreigner in need. And Roulson, torn between his sense of duty and loyalty to one who saved his life. Of the three, only Roulson had fallen, giving his life in an attempt to save Belkai’s own. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She now wore new chains in place of Ashelath’s now that she had bound herself to Narandir. This was the first time she had left the Forest since the battle of Larton. The memories, both good and bad, began to come flooding back, breaching the walls that she had so carefully built to turn away the shame of her past. She ignored Loranna, who stood close by, and dropped to her knees. She wondered if her father had received her letter. She longed to take Davos and escape this place, just for a while, and introduce him to Androv. The two would get along, she knew – if this new enemy hadn’t made him a target. Would they? For the first time, Belkai felt a growing sense of fear about the strange situation she’d found herself in.
Loranna didn’t watch Belkai as she knelt in the grass. They’d known each other for long enough now that she knew when Belkai needed the solitude. That never came in Narandir, where a kingdom always demanded her attention. As it did now, Loranna saw. A lone elf rode towards them, dismounting a respectful distance away before approaching. He took his place beside Loranna, but unlike her he couldn’t help but watch Belkai.
“What is it?” Loranna asked quietly.
“The elves that we sent to warn those soldiers, one has returned.”
“Only one?”
“Yrim fell. But three returned with Grais. One Svaletan and two Aliri.”
“Where are they?” Both turned to Belkai when she called out. The elf gave a short bow and replied,
“Not far. They only just arrived so I don’t know what their story is.”
“You’ve done well enough,” Loranna told him when Belkai went silent. “Show us to them.”
***
At first Belkai saw only Grais as they came to an old set of ruins left from when the former lord had forced the elves from their homes. They were far from the new settlements being built, with an understandable hesitation to trust the Aliri visitors. She could sense three others close by, but further into the bush.
“Lord Belkai,” Grais said as he gave a quick bow. “We delivered your message as ordered. We were returning when the Aliri and Svaletans were attacked.”
“By whom?” Belkai asked, frowning. She had not heard of any other kingdoms entering the war.
“Maybe you could tell us,” came the familiar voice of Rangir. Belkai was about to respond when the two Aliri appeared. She didn’t recognise the woman, but she froze when the man came into view. Before he could speak, a vine flew out of the ground and wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. Belkai retrieved her obsidian dagger and both Grais and Loranna brought their swords up and to the ready.
“What’s going on?” the female elf yelled, her face red with rage.
“They survived the massacre, Milady,” Rangir said softly, and took a step towards Belkai. “I brought them here.”
“You commanded the Aliri at Larton,” Belkai said, and the vine turned to dust before being swept away by the breeze.
“My name is Echtalon. I command the eastern forces of the Empire,” the man announced. “And you...”
His eyes went wide with realisation. “You are the Brilhardem.”
Belkai nodded, and slowly replaced her dagger. “We have much to discuss, but perhaps not now. What happened at Arborshire?”
Rangir recounted the battle, forcing back tears as he relived the horror.
“Describe your attackers,” Belkai ordered when he was done. The female elf introduced herself as ‘Faelin’, then gave her best description of what they had faced. Belkai’s eyes were cold as she said, “These were of Ashelath. I have seen them before in the visions he gave.”
She was oblivious to the confusion on the elves’ faces, but Rangir said,
“Ashelath is dead. I saw you kill him.”
Belkai nodded. “But someone sent his creations to kill you and Ertas. And I am sorry for his loss.”
“What is going on?” Faelin asked, her anger heightened by the confusion that was clear on her face.
“You…killed an Arcane?” Echtalon was faster to understand, though his eyes were wide in shock. Could she really be so powerful?
“Yes,” Belkai said simply. “And left the Angmir witches leaderless.”
Before he could respond, she turned to Loranna. “We need to speak to Davos and Lithmae. Svaleta needs to be alerted.”
“What about them?” Grais asked, nodding at the Aliri. Belkai thought for a moment before replying.
“Keep them here. Give them everything that they need, but they are to stay here. Rangir, you are free to move about as you wish.”
Faelin frowned as a low chittering came from within the trees. “What was that?”
“There are things in Narandir that you wouldn’t believe,” Rangir replied, his eyes not leaving Belkai. “It would be best not to explore without the lord’s blessing. As for me, Belkai, I am honoured but I will remain with them.”
The Aliri took it as a sign of his comradeship, but Belkai could sense Rangir’s suspicion towards them. He trusted them about as much as she did. The only reason he had brought them along was because he felt indebted to fellow survivors. His hatred for his nation’s enemies had not lessened by any means.
“It was good to see you again, Rangir. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Rangir watched Belkai and Loranna disappear into the Forest and turned to the Aliri.
“There is more to this story,” Echtalon said.
“I don’t know much of it,” Rangir told him, and explained his company’s incursion into Narandir to kill the Recluse. It left Echtalon and Faelin with a million questions, but Rangir had no answers. They waited in silence, surrounded by the sounds of a Forest that Rangir feared.
***
“Do you have any idea who is in this Forest right now?” Davos’ words came without anger, but his frustration was clear in his voice. Belkai raised an eyebrow as he continued, “Everyone in Svaleta knows the name Echtalon, and they fear it.”
“Maybe the active-duty types,” Loranna shot back. “I have not heard of him.”
“He is feared even by the Aliri,” Davos continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I do not trust him here.”
“That is why he has not seen any trace of what we are recreating here,” Belkai told him.
“If he leaves that clearing, he will die. It’s as simple as that. I have not given commands to the Forest’s beasts, but they roam that area in force.”
“How long do we hold them captive?” Loranna asked.
“As soon as this crisis is over, we will send them on their way. I do not need more enemy agents wandering these lands,” Belkai told her. “Rangir, of course, is free to do as he pleases. For now, we have more pressing matters.”
She recounted the reports of the Arborshire massacre, and concluded by saying,
“This was definitely aimed at me. Whoever is behind this used Ashelath’s own creations. He showed me these creatures once. They were men, but he perverted them somehow. He was always seeking an army to overthrow the Arcane.”
Sashai now spoke for the first time. “The King needs to be informed.”
Belkai nodded. “I believe that it is time for me to meet him face to face.”
“It’s getting dangerous outside this Forest,” Lithmae warned.
“That is why Davos and Loranna will accompany me. We will travel to Svaleta with Sashai, and I will meet with Farhad.” Belkai smiled. “Between the four of us, we will be fine.”
“As you wish,” Lithmae conceded with a short bow. Belkai looked to the group that would accompany her to Svaleta and smiled.
“Don’t look so worried. We will leave in three hours.”
***
It was pure coincidence that placed Kane and Adrianna only a few miles from Narandir when the four emerged. They had both decided to approach the Forest to see how things had changed in the centuries since they had last come this far south. Even when they had attacked Solstia, they had avoided any approaches that would pass by Narandir itself. Eventually, however, it was inevitable that curiosity would overcome their natural caution. It always surprised Adrianna to see how imposing the Forest was even to an experienced huntress such as herself. It wasn’t the trees themselves, of course. There was a sense of danger and foreboding that hung in the air, a manifestation of Narandir’s magic that served to warn off most enemies. And the Arcane cannot enter without invitation, she reminded herself. How curious. No one had ever discovered the secrets of Narandir and its power. Perhaps such things were incomprehensible to mortals of any kind.
“Movement,” Kane whispered, and Adrianna followed his gaze to watch three riders emerge from the Forest. At their head was the red-headed Defiler, looking majestic in the afternoon sun as the wind blew her hair across her face. By her side was a Svaletan man, a half-elf by the smell of him. Two Svaletan women followed behind them, one a child and the other built like an ex-soldier. Though they were a few miles away, Adrianna could sense the Defiler’s magic searching for threats as she rode.
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“Even in her own territory, she is alert,” Kane whispered. “We would not get into the Forest undetected.”
“She didn’t defeat Ashelath by being stupid,” Adrianna agreed. “We need to pick the time and place, not her.”
“Hunting lions,” her brother said. “The lover is the prey.”
“They always are,” Adrianna affirmed. As was mine, once upon a time. She shuddered and began the transformation into her wolf form. They would stalk their prey, and when the time was right, they would strike with all the fury and wrath of the Arcane.
***
King Farhad Orinor didn’t know what to expect when he was told that Belkai was approaching the city. His summons to Siara were rebuffed; she needed to meet with the priestess who was accompanying the Narandir delegation. He allowed it, not that she would have listened had he forced the matter. These were strange, violent days, and they worried him. Whatever comfort the Wexton princess had given him had disappeared now that the delegation had returned home. It was the eighteenth of Nirakos now, only four days since the Arborshire massacre. He had already received word of what had happened at that bridge and had sent a regiment to investigate. They confirmed the story – bodies of three races littered the earth, including those that were unrecognisable as anything that was known to exist. No one knew where the surviving monsters had disappeared to. Silently, Farhad hoped that they were all dead. If they could crush two armies with such ease, then he had little hope in his ability to stop them. Unless Belkai comes to offer her aid again, he thought. Somehow he doubted that he would be so lucky. Nonetheless, his messengers set out to invite her to an audience and returned quickly with the news that she and her guard would come. Farhad took that in stride. He had met this Loranna and was impressed with her boldness in the court. Her counsel would be something that Belkai would do well to listen to. Nor would it hurt matters having another Svaletan in the room.
He stood when the steward stepped through the doors to announce Belkai’s arrival. She entered alone, and Farhad was struck by her beauty. Despite the long ride from Narandir, she looked as if she had just awoken. Her hair fell across her shoulders in such a way that it highlighted her soft cheekbones, and Farhad found no difficulty imagining her in various compromising positions. He forced those images aside as he took her offered hand and kissed it. She gave a quick curtsy before taking the offered seat in a leather chair by the fireplace. Farhad sat across from her and smiled as he looked deep in her eyes.
For her part, Belkai was not impressed, not with the palace nor the king. For all its splendour, the room was a symbol of empty power, at least when it was compared with Narandir – or even the Ikari. It may have been more majestic than her Stalia, but it represented far less. As for Farhad himself, she was fully aware of what was running through his mind. She knew that every woman in this world faced the attention of lustful men, but Belkai could feel his racing heartbeat, every rush of hormones, every temperature change. She knew that she was attractive and had used it to her advantage – that had been what caught Davos’ attention at first. But this attention repulsed her. It was the pure animal lust of a man who was far too impressed with his own inflated sense of worth. Farhad was married, she knew, and his wife was far from ugly. The fool really did chase women in his own court, Belkai realised. He was drunk on power and thought himself invincible. It was a deadly combination. Svaleta needed a far better leader than this during these times, someone who would focus on the war rather than his hormones.
“You have, of course, heard about the battle at Arborshire,” Belkai began, and Farhad nodded.
“These creatures...do you know of them?” the king asked. Belkai could sense his fear despite his attempts to hide it. “Did they come from Narandir?”
Belkai allowed anger to flash in her eyes. “I swore that we had peace, King Orinor. No, these creatures belonged to Ashelath.”
“He is dead.”
Belkai was growing tired of this conversation being repeated but fought off her building frustration. Not for the first time, she reminded herself that most people did not have a mage’s understanding or perception. “Someone is using his creations to strike out. This is revenge for my destruction of Ashelath.”
“So, what, he has disciples out there seeking vengeance?”
“I don’t know,” Belkai lied. She thought she was starting to understand, but without confirmation there was no point frightening him with her theories. “But you need to be warned. This won’t stop until it reaches some sort of endgame that we have yet to comprehend.”
“I’ve lost two towns,” Farhad said. She could sense his nervousness as he spoke. “Solstia is gone – no bodies, the whole town just disappeared. And Scamia was wiped out by a pair of werewolves.”
“Solstia was attacked by vampires, we confirmed it,” Belkai told him, but then she frowned as the entirety of his words sank in. “They took the bodies?”
Farhad didn’t think to question her knowledge. “Vampires and werewolves are the domain of Falkar. What does he want from you?”
“Falkar…” Belkai whispered as her mind raced. Some human had led the vampires - and killed Yulen. At the same time, werewolves and Ashelath’s experiments were set loose. Some of this was directly related to Belkai, some was aimed at Svaleta and the Aliri. Did the Arcane think that Svaleta had truly had a hand in Ashelath’s death?
It all came together in Belkai’s mind, and she looked up at Farhad with eyes filled with determination.
“What do you know of the Sons of Retribution?”
“They are appointed every thousand years to bring judgement on the enemies of the Arcane. So the stories say.” Farhad frowned. “You believe the Sons of Retribution are here? I thought that you did the Arcane a favour by killing Ashelath.”
“I would have thought the same,” Belkai admitted. And what a damned fool I was to think as much. “But recent events have proven otherwise. The Arcane fear the power of Narandir, they always have even as they craved it. And now they know its potential.”
“But what power?” Farhad almost sounded exasperated. “We have tales and rumours but never any answers.”
“The Forest has its secrets, and they must remain so,” Belkai warned. “It is enough to say that the Arcane see an opportunity to seize it. They will not waste the chance.”
“And Svaleta stands in their way?”
“We all stand in their way.”
***
If Adrianna had known about the conversation that was happening in the palace at that moment, she would have called it prophetic. She and Kane were slowly making their way through the streets of Svaleta, both wearing cloaks and hoods and keeping their heads down. No one paid them any attention, passing them off as some of the many travellers that regularly passed through the capital. Beneath her cloak, Adrianna kept a hand on the curved sword attached to her hip, fingers stroking the hilt as she thought of what was to come. Their target lay ahead, its towering spires so beautiful and inviting in the midday sun. She could feel Kane’s breathing become more rapid as he felt the same bloodlust in his own veins. This was what they lived for – the hunt, the kill, the moment that their prey took its last breath. Falkar had crafted the perfect killing machines when he had transformed them, and Delorax had sealed Svaleta’s doom the moment that he had unleashed them.
As they came to the path that led up to the main Temple gates, two Svaletan soldiers stepped into their path. There was no aggression in their eyes; they simply wanted to check out the obvious travellers. They never got the chance.
Adrianna was in the lead, and she gave no reply to their challenge as she pushed aside her cloak, revealing the sword on her hip. With a movement too fast for the guards to track, she unsheathed the blade and spun twice, not slowing as she moved past the decapitated bodies as they crashed to the earth. Her eyes were set on the Temple as she walked, Kane close behind her. They stopped at the oaken door and traded glances. Kane shrugged and smashed his fist against it. They waited only a moment before it opened and a young man with a shaved head stood before them. Before he could speak, Kane seized him and crushed his throat before throwing him aside.
“They don’t really believe in security in these parts, I suppose,” Adrianna said, and her brother laughed. She closed her eyes, took in the smell of blood in the air, and smiled as she felt the transformation begin.
***
Davos smelled them before the screams started. They had been delayed reaching the Temple after Sashai stopped to speak to a number of people on the streets. They were greeted cheerfully by Toldir and were making their way to the central staircase when Davos seized Sashai’s arm and froze.
“What is it?” the girl whispered, her voice remarkably steady. Siara trained her people to hide their emotions unless it suited their purposes.
“That scent...” Davos was obviously sniffing now, oblivious to how ridiculous it seemed to human eyes. “It’s them, the ones from Solstia...”
An animalistic howl thundered through the air, and Davos pulled his sword.
“What was that?” Trained or not, Sashai couldn’t hide her fear now. Davos gave no answer but began to step backwards, pushing Sashai along with his free hand as he kept his eyes locked on the way they had come. A priest came around the corner, tears in his eyes as he ran. There was a blur of red fur, and he was knocked to the ground. Davos froze as he watched the massive wolf close its jaws around the man’s head, crushing it in a moment. Sashai gasped, and the wolf slowly looked up at them.
“Run!” Davos could hear a second wolf approaching and ran backwards, not daring to take his eyes off the creature before him.
“Davos! In here!”
He turned a corner and swung around to see Sashai entering a recreation room. He ran inside and slammed the door shut. Sashai and another priestess pushed a lounge in front of the door.
“That will slow them, at least,” the other priestess said. “What are those things?”
“Werewolves,” Davos said absentmindedly as he looked around the room. There were four more priestesses in the room, and one nobleman that he didn’t recognise. Davos seemed to be the only one with a weapon.
“You have no swords, daggers?” he asked Sashai.
“This a temple of peace,” she replied. “The most we have are knives in the kitchen.”
“Where?”
The door shook before Sashai could answer. A low growl came from the other side. The nobleman was whimpering, and Davos tuned him out as he directed the priestesses to keep building their barricade. They flipped over another lounge and dropped it onto the first and began piling up everything they could. All the while, they could hear the growling.
Adrianna had barely pushed the door the first time but could feel how hard it shook. Such feeble construction, she thought as she sniffed the air. There were seven people in that room, and she could smell their fear. She was about to ram the door again when there was a yell and a priest charged her wielding a butcher’s knife. She let him come close, then swatted him with a paw, crushing his chest and spraying the wall with his blood. She slowly moved over and lowered herself onto him. There was absolute terror in his dying eyes as her jaws closed over his head and ended his misery with the crunch of shattered bone. She savoured the blood that filled her mouth, then returned to the door. She growled, feeling the fear rise inside the other room. It was time. With a fierce roar, she rammed against the door, smashing it apart and sending furniture flying. She took a moment to watch the panicked responses, then leapt for the nearest target, a nobleman by the look of him, and crushed him beneath her powerful legs. She looked up as a man advanced with her sword. She recognised him in the moments before she struck.
The wolf’s entrance had sent a chair smacking into Davos, knocking him to the ground. He got up too late to save the nobleman, but quickly launched himself forward with his sword at the ready. Even as he swung, he knew he was too late. The wolf’s amber eyes met his own, and he saw its recognition just before it stood on two legs and smacked him to the side. He hit the wall hard and slumped to the ground dazed. He tried to reach for his sword but stopped short as a second wolf, bigger than the first, entered the room and set its eyes on him. The priestesses were screaming as the first wolf tore through them without a conscience. Sashai hit the wall beside Davos, a huge gash in her side. Her eyes were wide with shock as she stared unblinking at the carnage that surrounded them. The last scream went silent as the wolf ripped a priestess’ throat clear, then turned to Davos and Sashai. Davos studied her wounds and decided that she would live – though right now she probably wished that she were dead. Belkai, where are you?
The two wolves moved closer, and then howled as they began to transform. It was almost grotesque as the beasts turned into a young man and woman. The man was dressed in sleeveless leather armour and looked prepared for war. The woman wore a tight-fitting, revealing silver dress, and had a curved sword strapped to her hip. She was remarkably beautiful, a horrifying contrast to the monster that had just slaughtered half a dozen innocent people.
The man laughed as he watched Davos’ and Sashai’s stunned faces. “Yes, it’s shocking, isn’t it, how the clothes remain? They never used to, you know. We’d be stark naked when we transformed back.”
He nodded at the woman. “Thankfully an Arcane, uh, owed Adrianna a favour. He taught us a new spell that made sure we didn’t have to resort to wearing whatever rags you Svaletans and elves would have laying around.”
He laughed harder at their confusion. “Oh, you’re shocked that we’re werewolves? Right, I always forget that. I am Kane, and this is my sister Adrianna. You can call us the Sons of Retribution.
“And you, Davos, will be coming with us.”
***
Belkai and Farhad had still been discussing the recent attacks when the steward burst into the room, closely followed by Loranna, and announced breathlessly that the Temple was under attack. Belkai’s blood ran cold at the thought of Davos in danger, and she was racing for the door before anyone could speak. She ignored Loranna’s call, pushed aside the guard who tried to return her weapons, and leapt onto the first horse that she saw. She whispered an elven phrase that Lithmae had taught her, and the horse instantly relaxed under her weight. It took only a minute or two to reach the Temple grounds, and she barely glanced at the two decapitated soldiers on the path. She left the horse behind to enter the Temple, taking the time to study Toldir’s corpse. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, trying to find any sign of Davos amongst the fear that filled the Temple. It didn’t take long, and she could sense his horror. She ran down the corridors, jumping over the corpses that littered the ground, and finally came to the room where she had sensed Davos. She ignored the bloody corpses strewn across the floor, taking note of the wounded Sashai propped against the wall. A woman stood with a blade across Davos’ throat, and a man stood beside them. The woman blew Belkai a kiss, and the man smiled.
A purple cloud enveloped them, and when it dissipated, they were gone, and Davos along with them.