Chapter III

For a few long moments, Uma Miyon could only gape in shock at the small army that had just appeared on the rocky plains outside of Ankalla, for he was unable to immediately come to terms with the fact that what he was witnessing was reality. There were members of the Korrei-Tarr and soldiers of Noctalus taking up the grand majority of the ranks, but he could also make out those in looser clothing and little armor that identified them as more traditional mages. They were far away, so from his spot on that northern tower balcony, he could not properly identify anybody he may have recognized, but even so, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that there would be at least two or three Masters of Ijiria among them. The reason for this conclusion was that he already spotted who he instinctively knew was King Markreas Iiji, and if the King was riding with this force, then it would only be natural to have a few Masters along with him. The problem was that the only living Master Uma had ever met was Nakoma Taurus, so even if he could make out the faces of those below, if it wasn’t the Master of Fire, then he wouldn’t be able to distinguish between Master and mage.

But, My Goddess…? How can this be happening? Where did they come from? How did they know to attack Ankalla with all of the illusion magic cast over the fortress? How did they bypass our lookouts on the road? How did they get around Kloras Glaus and his constant opposition? And worst of all, how did Lady Firrik never know this was going to happen?!

It was then that Quill’s words from a few days ago forced their way into Uma’s mind whether he wanted to ponder them or not.

“Firrik placed a hand on my arm and then went distant. You know, the usual behavior when she’s seeing the future. I waited, and when she returned to the present, for a split second, she looked…shocked. It was brief, and even now, I question whether I imagined it, but…”

Uma shivered as he swallowed a thick lump that had formed in his throat. Or what if Lady Firrik did know this was coming? What if all of her recent visions about Harunhein were lies and she was simply trying to lull us into a false sense of security—to ensure we didn’t start to panic as King Markreas marched up to our gates?!

He didn’t want to become paranoid nor did he want to doubt Tali’s word with such a severe emergency forming before his eyes, but after the conversation the two of them had not long ago, he knew that he would be foolish to not acknowledge it.

“Serri hated and resented me in the last years of her life, my parents were convinced I was a lunatic, and to get me out of their lives, they shipped me off to Ankalla,” Tali had said to him and Quill that afternoon in her quarters. “The reason I’m telling you this is so that you know why I don’t want to ever try and fight fate again. I was going to lose her anyway, and my attempts to fight it only ruined my life more than her death would have. So I’m sorry, but if I ever see anything like that, I will not reveal it.”

His grip on the stone balcony railing tightened so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. Between Quill’s account of his interaction with her, Tali’s declaration that she wouldn’t tell them of their demise, and now King Markreas’s arrival, Uma couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t all coincidence. Tali would never have missed something like this, and any visions of their success in Harunhein sounded ridiculous when faced with a hurdle they could not possibly overcome without losing a sizable chunk of their people and resources. Uma knew that he was gazing upon Tali Firrik’s deceit, but he did not yet know what that meant for him. She clearly hadn’t hidden this out of spite, that much he could tell based on her demeanor when talking about the death of her little sister. If she lied about this then it was solely because she was terrified of trying to fight fate a second time, but even knowing that, Uma simply could not accept any of it.

“Well, Quill, I think we’re seeing right now what Lady Firrik did on that day she touched you,” Uma growled before turning his head to regard the stunned Quill Tyrus and Barron Kristoff on his right, both men standing stock still as they, too, gazed at the Ijirian force.

Quill snapped out of his shock upon hearing Uma’s words, only for his features to go deathly pale. “You think so? You think this is it?”

“What else could it have been?” the magicless doctor hissed back, his hands forcefully indicating the sight below. “Can you honestly stand there and claim Lady Firrik is currently surprised by this turn of events?! Never once in all the time I’ve known her has anything of even slight significance happened without her expecting it, so nobody can convince me that King fucking Markreas was the exception to that rule!”

“But…” Quill stuttered. “Why would she hide this unless—?”

“Stop being stupid, Miyon!” Barron suddenly interrupted, his bearded face contorting in rage as he, too, returned to his senses and rounded on Uma. “This is not the time to be slandering Lady Firrik’s name! We need to move! We need to prepare for battle right this second, for if Rei’s Voice has assured us we will survive to fight in Harunhein, then we have nothing to fear today! Doubting her will only make things harder than they need to be!”

Despite Barron’s much larger form, Uma held his ground and refused to back down. “Then by all means, Sir Kristoff, rush down to your death and let everything you’ve fought for these last few years be burnt to hell by the Iijis! I, however, do not plan on dying this day! I told Lady Firrik I wished to fight fate, so if fate has accepted my challenge, then I shall prepare! I am not going to die!”

Uma shook his head as he spared a glance back over the railing due to some movement he noticed in the corner of his eye. Peering over the side, he saw that King Markreas had begun to ride towards the front gates, accompanied by two more individuals with the emerald hair of the Iijis. One was almost certainly Ilirianna, for even from his vantage point, he could just barely make out her features. The other Iiji was either Toranei or Anna-Piura, but given the circumstances and the presence of the Korrei-Tarr, Uma would have bet his life that it was the former.

“Are you two not seeing this?” he uttered. “Markreas, Toranei, Ilirianna, and an unknown number of Masters… We are royally fucked, and not even Firrik’s foresight could bullshit us out of this!”

Barron stepped towards him, pushing past Quill so that the red knight could properly tower over Uma. “So what then? Do you plan to run? Do you plan to abandon Lady Firrik and the rest of us after all we’ve done for you?! Because I will not avert my eyes from a deserter…”

Wind magic surged into Barron’s hand, a very clear threat that Uma was confident wasn’t empty. This man would kill him if he tried to flee Ankalla, but as it so happened, the magicless man did not intend to run.

Or at least not yet… he internally added.

“Calm down, Sir,” Uma snapped. “I’m not leaving, but I also won’t be throwing myself into Markreas’s lap. Lady Firrik has some explaining to do, and I intend to make her do it.”

“How dare—?!”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” Quill suddenly snarled, shoving his way between Uma and Barron before fixing them both with a disgusted expression. “Enough! The Ijirians are here and there’s nothing we can do to change that! Standing here bickering certainly isn’t going to help anybody, so what we need to do is go arm ourselves and rendezvous with Vesh and the others! Miyon, go get your gauntlets, and Kristoff, retrieve your armor!”

Uma narrowed his eyes at Quill, finding it rather insulting of him to urge them to put themselves in danger while he was the closest thing to unkillable that Uma had ever known. Quill had far less to fear, yet the magicless man could at least concede that he was correct when it came to the argument that bickering was only wasting time. If Uma wanted to confront Tali, then he needed to do so before the fortress was overwhelmed. Therefore, he bit his tongue and nodded.

“Fair enough.”

Barron then grunted, “Yes, my apologies, Tyrus. You’re absolutely right. We need to arm ourselves now.”

Taking one last moment to glance between the two, Quill let out a long sigh then straightened up, spared one last look down at the awaiting army, and said, “Good. I’ll head straight there since I don’t need anything special to fight with. I’ll touch base with Vesh and we’ll rendezvous on the first floor, okay?” When Uma and Barron both gave their affirmatives, Quill grinned nervously. “Good luck. Let’s get through this.”

With that, the three men bolted from the balcony and rushed through the sitting room. They remained together as they sprinted for the staircase that Uma had taken barely twenty minutes ago, but when they reached the floor where their quarters were located, they split up, with Uma and Barron hurrying towards their living spaces while Quill continued downwards, making for where Vesh, Keskivaara, and the others should be preparing to defend the courtyard. Naturally, Quill’s absence left Uma and Barron in somewhat of an awkward position given how irritated they were with each other, so there was no conversation as they rounded multiple corners in their desperation to reach where their weapons were stashed. Naturally, Uma couldn’t help but notice the emptiness of the dark, blackstone halls, leaving him wondering if the denizens of Ankalla were already being evacuated or if many were currently taking shelters within their quarters.

Uma’s heart was pounding, and while the exertion of his run definitely held some of the blame, he also couldn’t deny that he was utterly terrified. For years, he had been free from the threat of death. In Hiriech and Stellareid, he was able to go all out because he had full faith in both Tali Firrik and the Goddess Rei. That was why he so brazenly confronted the Master of Fire in Aquesen, why he allowed himself to be captured and tortured by Lord Eganno Cartigan’s soldiers in Stellareid, and why he continued to fight Abigail Reiner in Saientia despite Leiolai’s constant demands to run. If he could not die, then why shouldn’t he have some fun? Why shouldn’t he volunteer for jobs that would make any normal man quake in his boots? The reaper could not touch him, while Uma simply laughed in his face and made a mockery of death.

But now, as one of the most dangerous and powerful individuals in all of Ijiria stood just outside his home, his defense from death had all but vanished. When he needed that protection the most, it was swiped from him. He could not trust Tali's word anymore the way Barron still could. Her assurances seemed hollow and misleading. They didn’t match the reality he had witnessed with his own eyes, and after hearing from her lips that she would not warn them of their deaths, he knew that if he wanted to survive this attack, he would have to dodge around the reaper himself. He would have to rely on his mind, his abilities, his inventions, and forge his survival alone.

But as scared of death as he now was, he was determined to fight. He had made the bold, and albeit arrogant, declaration that he would gladly fight fate, so if he cowered now, then he would never be able to live with himself. His life in Omaruo was a living hell while his life in Ijiria was the closest thing to his dreams that probably existed, so he was not about to allow the Ijirians to steal his life from him when it was just on the cusp of being a happy one. He had entered his beloved fantasy books, and right now, King Markreas had chosen to be the dark lord of his story.

So it’s a good thing the dark lord never wins! Uma reminded himself, fueling his determination just as he and Barron reached the adjacent doors of their quarters.

They said nothing to one another as they went inside their respective rooms, with Uma immediately bolting through the entrance and towards the hallway, his destination being his bedroom. Upon bursting inside, he yanked open the sliding closet door and knelt down to snag his briefcase—one he had opened with a swift and practiced hand as he unlocked the latches and began removing the magical gauntlets and boots that were stored within. While they were based on the ones he used in Stellareid, they were not the exact same model. In fact, they were the fourth incarnation of this invention since that day, which was mainly due to how much downtime the Kosah-Rei had since the events in the City of Starlight. The concept itself had remained unchanged, for they were still weapons that stored mana and enabled him to control magic himself, but he had increased their efficiency, with more mana stored inside and more diversity in their use.

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Back in Stellareid, the gauntlets and boots had been primarily limited to fire and wind magic. This was because he didn’t have enough control over the mana to turn water into ice or to heal himself with nature, or even to bend rock to his will. However, with enough tinkering, he had been able to achieve all three of those options, giving him complete control over the five basic types of magic. It was unfortunate they didn’t have any dark or light mages on hand, for since this mana was from an outside source, his body’s compatibility meant nothing. Should he have access to the mana type, then he would theoretically be able to bend any mana, even the Cansi types, to his will.

Nevertheless, this will do for now… he thought as he slid his hands into the silver gauntlets just before the little needles within stuck into his wrist and entered his bloodstream. When they did, the thin tubes running along the surface of the gauntlets lit up in five different colors, those being dark blue, light blue, brown, red, and green. The same thing happened to his boots, and by the time he was done, he felt powerful and more confident in himself.

However, he didn’t intend to stop there, for he next reached for a belt that was shoved deeper into the closet. It was one from Omaruo, with a gun holster on the right side and slots for clips on the left. He had not bothered to have his magicless firearm brought to Stellareid since he didn’t want his allies having to transport all of his personal items, so it had been a long time since he had the chance to use Omaruan technology against the Ijirians.

But it was effective. They’re trained to sense for the magic that often precedes an attack, so even a Master can be killed by one of these if you’re crafty enough…

Unfortunately, the death of Mallicent and the loss of his realm dagger meant that his handgun had very little usage left in it. He only had a few clips, but he supposed there would never be a better time to use it than right that moment. Therefore, he slipped the belt around his waist, checked to make sure the clips were already there, then retrieved his gun from where it was safely kept in a locked box in the very back of the closet. Once he had it, he put it into the holster and hurried to the other side of the room where his dresser was located. Yanking open the drawer containing his socks, he fumbled around inside for a few seconds before producing a small cylindrical canister filled nearly to the brim with rounded blue pills. They were another ace he kept up his sleeve, and while he had intended to save them for the infiltration of Erika, he was now highly confident that operation would never actually take place. Therefore, he swiftly downed two of them, nearly choking since he didn’t have any water on hand, then shoved the canister back inside and stalked through his quarters so he could check in with Barron.

Luckily, by the time he arrived, he found the red knight awaiting him just outside, already dressed from head to toe in his sparkling red armor. Normally, Uma would have been certain that Barron was well-protected, but the simple fact of the matter was that two of his four sets had been destroyed three and a half years ago. That meant that there was now only one spare, and that the damage would only be halved as opposed to quartered like it was in Hiriech and Noctalus.

“Are you ready?” Uma demanded once he’d pulled his door shut behind him.

“As ready as I can be,” Barron stated gruffly, his hands running along the side of his glaive’s shaft as if analyzing something about it. “However, I should ask one thing of you before we depart.” He paused, waited for Uma to give him a nod, then continued. “The last set is in the fortress’s basement, in the storeroom right next to the old cellar. If I’m defeated in this one, rush down there yourself or send somebody to meet me. Once this set is gone, it’ll just be basic armor… It won’t do me any good against the opponents we’re up against so I’ll need backup. Can you promise that, Miyon?”

Uma couldn’t deny the sick feeling that had emerged in his stomach, for there had been a small part of him praying to the Goddess that the final set was somewhere else, far from Ankalla. If it was, then it would be impossible for Barron Kristoff to die that day, but it seemed luck had betrayed them.

And the fact that Sir Kristoff’s life is vulnerable for the first time ever just gives more credibility to my belief that Lady Firrik knew this was coming.

“You have my word,” Uma agreed. “I promise, I’ll—”

He was then cut off by a sudden explosion in the distance that caused that entire corridor to tremble. It was as if a bomb had suddenly hit Ankalla, and the implications of what that could mean made his throat tighten up. There were no bombs in Ijiria, so he could only wonder what, or who, had caused a tremor strong enough to shake a castle. His thoughts flashed back to the destruction wrought by Nakoma Taurus in the forests outside Hiriech, leaving him wondering what Markreas could do if he was supposedly more powerful than his Master of Fire.

Shit! Damn it all! We have to get to the others now!

Uma turned to spin on his heel, wanting to rush back the way he had come, only for there to be yet another discrepancy between what he saw with his eyes and what he saw through the lens of his fortune-telling glasses. The magicless man reactively stuck his gauntleted palms outward, wind magic erupting through them and expanding into a shield that just barely blocked the wave of fire that tore through the corridor a second later. As if knowing that Uma’s gauntlets could not withstand such an attack for longer than a moment, Barron snarled out “Nex”, erecting his own shield just behind Uma’s so that when his shattered, the red knight’s defended them from the rest until the flames extinguished and revealed two individuals standing around fifteen yards down the hallway.

You…have gotta be kidding me…

It was a man and woman, one with crimson hair and familiar features while the other had black hair pulled back in a ponytail and wind magic swirling around her. Uma raised his gauntlets before him while Barron strode forward and gripped his glaive in defense, the both of them prepared for the battle that was about to commence. Once again, Uma recalled the destruction in that forest, and now that he was no longer safe from death, it didn’t feel quite as beautiful and magnificent as it once had. Now, that power was horrifying. Based on his recognition of the man and on descriptions he had once heard that resembled the woman, Uma’s body froze as it occurred to him just what monsters he was facing.

If he wanted to speak with Tali Firrik, he would have to claw his way past Nakoma Taurus and Koroha Rhitta.

***

“You have to be the one to kill Markreas.”

“M-me? You want me to fight off the King of Ijiria himself? Vesh, I know I’m strong, but as powerful as I am, I barely stood my ground against Ilirianna, who’s not even an Iiji by blood! If half of what I’ve heard about Markreas is accurate, then I’m not going to last more than a few minutes!”

“Perhaps that is true by logical standards, but we have the divine on our side. Lady Firrik knows we will live through the day, so Markreas’s defeat is within our grasp. Have faith in Rei. Have faith in Lady Firrik. If you allow them into your heart, then you will be able to kill King Markreas. You’re the only one who can do this, Keskivaara.”

“But—!”

“And do not forget, we don’t play by their rules. Even if you couldn’t beat Markreas in a drawn out duel, there are still other ways to win within those few minutes you think you can last. Do not cut down the King. Curse him.”

It was then that Vesh reached down to his hand and slid off the little ruby ring that was always wrapped around the fingers of the Kosah-Rei leadership. A chill went down Keskivaara’s spine as he gazed upon the Teritus—the powerful talisman that was the cause of the death and destruction in the Fifth Ring of Stellareid. The People’s Mind wanted nothing to do with it. He didn’t even want to touch it, but Vesh ignored his pale features and went on.

“All you have to do is get in close and touch Markreas so that you can fill him with combustion magic. Then, once you’ve done that, simply activate the Tertius and our dear King will meet his fiery end.”

To his frustration, he did have to acknowledge that this was certainly the only way he could survive a battle with the King, as well as that he was probably the only one aside from maybe Quill that could pull it off. He desperately wanted to avoid using that ring and he didn’t want to face off with Markreas, but at the same time, their options were limited and somebody was going to have to beat the King if they didn’t want him rampaging through the fortress. Therefore, Keskivaara grit his teeth, donned the Teritus, then rushed back into the castle so he could reach the second floor and get a safer view over the walls that wouldn’t leave him vulnerable. Yet, the very second he arrived at a large window that overlooked the courtyard, he caught sight of a bright light hurtling across the plains, only for the front gates and the courtyard to be utterly obliterated by white fire that blew the walls and gate apart, and didn’t stop there.

“Nex!” the People’s Mind snarled as fragments of the fire destroyed the wall and window in front of him, causing stone and glass to explode outwards and either crumble to the wrecked courtyard below or scatter across the carpeted floor. The fires had lost some of their strength due to their collison with the walls, which was probably the reason Keskivaara’s shield withstood the assault, but it didn’t stop his body from flying backwards and slamming into the stone behind him. The firelamps above came crashing to the ground and anything flammable soon caught fire as little blazes erupted on the carpet and the wallpaper. Keskivaara slid to the ground, his back pressed up against the wall as he attempted to suck air back into the lungs.

Through the gaping hole in the corridor, he could see the once lush and pretty courtyard completely unrecognizable as huge chunks of the ground had been torn up and ravaged. Even worse was the outer walls laying crumbled in the rocks. The gate was gone, the walls were gone, and anybody that may have still been down in the courtyard disintegrated into nothing, with only ash left as proof of their existence. Beyond that wreckage, every single member of the Ijirian attack force was galloping straight for them, nothing left standing between them and Ankalla to barr their charge.

Keskivaara’s shoulders slumped with defeat as he realized it must have been Markreas who caused that destruction. One single man cast white fire and brought everything crumbling down. The fact that they were charging either implied that Markreas couldn’t do it a second time or that he wanted to ensure the Kosah-Rei died by seeing their bodies himself. Either way, it didn’t seem like a second barrage of fire was coming, but that didn’t bring Keskivaara any comfort.

I have to fight that?! He laughed to himself, though there wasn't even a scrap of humor within the terrified sound. There’s no way… I’m going to die. This is the end for me… Everything I’ve done, all the lives I’ve sacrificed, for nothing… Shit… How did it come to this?

And yet, the People’s Mind rose to his feet, his hand absently lowering to the pommel of his sword sheathed at his hip. With a soft scraping sound, he removed it and held the shortsword out before him, his heart beating so hard that it felt like it might explode from his chest. He took one step forward, then a second, then a third, until he finally stood on the edge of the ruins and was able to watch the vanguard of the force arrive at the courtyard.

“SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!” Markreas roared just as magic surged from his legs and he jumped from his horse to land ten yards into the premises of Ankalla.

He was a large man, with broad shoulders and an intimidating presence in his green and gold armor, his emerald hair falling down to his shoulders and a maddened grin on his bearded face. Behind him, others were dismounting as they, too, rushed into the courtyard and began to cross the distance between themselves and the front doors—doors Keskivaara could now see were no longer standing. In the next few seconds, the Ijirians would be inside Ankalla.

Perhaps they had already lost.

Perhaps victory would have hinged on their ability to keep the attack force beyond the walls, but that condition failed within seconds.

Tali was confident that they would all survive, claiming that her visions had assured her of such, but while Vesh bought her explanation without question, Keskivaara simply could not believe it—especially not after what Markreas just did. Could Tali actually see the future? He didn’t know. If she could, then she must have expected this attack. So either she was a liar or was preparing to abandon them all.

Regardless, Keskivaara had nowhere else to run. His parents were gone, his master had vanished, and he, himself, had abandoned Stellareid. All he had left was Velanor, but even Velanor may die there in Ankalla if Keskivaara failed to hold this monster off. So, no matter what he wanted to do, Rickori Keskivaara would stand his ground and fight until he drew his last breath.

Markreas suddenly raised his head, his blue eyes settling on where Keskivaara boldly stood out in the open—a challenge to the Ijirian King that he hoped the man would take. As expected, that maddened grin turned even more wild, causing Keskivaara’s terror to increase with it. Blue fire erupted around Markreas’s gauntleted hands before expanding up through his two-handed broadsword. Meanwhile, the large man bent his legs, almost certainly sending wind magic through them so he could Proto up to where Keskivaara awaited. Satisfied that his bait had been taken, the People’s Mind turned and sent wind magic into his own legs before blasting down the hall. The last thing he needed was to face Markreas with Ijirian backup, so it would be ideal to lead him further into the castle so it could just be the two of them.

A loud explosion rang out behind Keskivaara, and upon sparing a look over his shoulder, he found Markreas barreling down the hall with blue flames raging behind him. Reaching the end of the corridor, Keskivaara spun on his heel, brought his sword up to defend, and met the Ijirian King’s charge head on.