Ingrid stood atop the walls of the fort palace. She watched with a grin as the masses below were forced into their homes and business by the knights and royal soldiers. Martial law would soon be in effect, and her new seat of power was well within her grasp. Once the inner city was under her full control the rest of the fort city would bow easily. The Nazem were dead; they had grown fat with opulence, weak with complacency, and now their bloodline would rot in the dirt where it belonged.
All that was left was to please the prince with her absolute victory over the corrupt families within the inner ring. The Fital Family was a mafia that ran rampant throughout the territory. They’d gained political power over the past fifty years by corrupting the inner ring. The Drasi Family were wealthy merchants and druid sympathizers who spread the ridiculous message that wendigo and druids could share the Holy Land.
Finally there was the Isi Family, who undermined the superiority of their blood by denying mana granted to them by the Forest Father. They chose to spread the filth that was material users. The accursed art created by humans and their lessers. It was the very thing humans had used to hunt wendigo during the war with them only a millenia ago. Ingrid let the thought go; soon they would all be dead, them and their teachings.
Standing a few feet from Ingrid was Loki; the man was a darkness mage and one of the most powerful Ingrid had ever known. He’d been her Right Hand since she was a little girl, and had served her dutifully even when she married into the Salstar Noble House. He knew her ambitions better than anyone, her craving for power and her desire to one day shine as the strongest in the Kingdom. She respected him as a friend and confidant, one of the few people she was close to.
“How are things going out there?” Ingrid asked. She didn’t turn to him, instead continuing to look over the city.
Loki was silent for a moment, which didn’t bother Ingrid as she knew he was controlling dozens of shadow constructs spread about the city. His awareness was also spread with each construct, and while she didn’t know the full extent of that spread she was well aware of the toll it had on the cognition of his actual body. The fact he could communicate at all was testament to his skill with the spell.
“The Fital Family heads as well as their second and third ranked crime lords have all been captured.” Loki’s voice was completely impassive while he was controlling so many shadow constructs. “Minimal casualties; the heads are being executed as we speak. Their estate had five children; all have been captured and are being transferred. Ages five, seven, ten and two under one years old. The Drasi had a defensive precaution around their estate and mercenary guards. We had five casualties, the estate was leveled, no survivors, all of the family members were confirmed dead.
“The fight with the Isi is more intense than we anticipated. Many of their disciples were present at the estate and combat is still underway. We have confirmed the deaths of the Isi patriarch Kolbein and matriarch Freyríðr. We have also secured the two daughters of Hrolf and Drifa. Ages five and a baby less than one. Drifa is currently in combat with several of my constructs in the estate; she is injured and we suspect she will be dead soon. Hrolf is holding the line outside to buy time for survivors from the initial artillery magic to escape through underground tunnels. I have several constructions hidden amongst the escapees to see where the tunnels leads.”
“Where is the Isi family heir?” Ingrid asked.
“Tyr was outside of the estate during the attack,” Loki said in a monotone voice. “One of my constructs hidden amongst a group of Isi disciples in the market engaged him once the group turned on him.”
“So he is dead then?” Ingrid said assuredly.
“No, the construct was destroyed. One of the disciples sided with him and Freja. Their whereabouts are currently unknown,” Loki said.
“Freja is with them? That will slow them down at least,” Ingrid mused.
“She was the one who destroyed the construct. She used Hydrokinetic magic,” Loki corrected.
“What? This is no time for jokes, Loki. I didn’t even know you could in that state.” Ingrid turned to face the veiled man. “That failure could barely use Mystic Wind Hands.”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“I assure you I am speaking the truth, milady,” Loki stated with a nod. “Although her magic was odd there was a mixture of something in it. I suspect it was maya, given the fact she is a disciple of the rakshasa.”
Ingrid considered her next words for a moment. “Hmm… Freja is of no concern, kill her if you get the chance but she is not the target. I need the Isi dead. They are your priority, everyone else is secondary. Where is Thyra?”
“She was at the Fital Family raid and is on the way with Magnus to the Isi Estate as we spe-” Loki suddenly dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.
“What is it?” Ingrid enquired.
“Seven of my constructs were destroyed simultaneously at the Isi Estate,” Loki said with more color to his voice now that his attention wasn’t so divided. “The tiger demon has entered into some rage state or something. I have never seen a demon do that.”
Ingrid was displeased at the revelation. The rakshasa was a concern but nothing that should warrant her direct attention. Ingrid had no doubt that if Loki wasn’t spread as thin as he was he could handle the demon on his own. The more constructs he had out, the less powerful they were. That was most likely the reason Tyr managed to escape and her failure of a daughter managed to destroy one. This was becoming tedious, though, and she wanted results quickly.
“Do I need to go?” Ingrid asked.
Loki paled at the thought. “No, milady, Thyra will be more than enough for the demon. This is not worthy of your presence.”
“Very well, but I expect excellence, Loki,” Ingrid said. “I will return to the First Prince now. Inform me of any major changes.”
The darkness beneath Loki seemed to grow in size and started to bubble like boiling ink.
“Of course, ma’am,” Loki said with a bow.
The man then fell into the inky black, vanishing without a trace. Ingrid looked at the spot where the man had stood for a moment before she turned back to the city. She looked at everything that would soon be hers and smiled a wicked toothy smile. She then walked away, humming a sweet melody.
The tunnel was dark but the glowing water orbs helped everyone to see. There weren’t many civilian survivors from the bombardment of artillery magic. Helina and Owen did what they could to protect people when Hrolf and Joha had cleared the way for an escape into the tunnels beneath the estate. The Isi disciples wanted to make sure the women and children got away while they held the line.
The goblins had to leave behind their wagon, but they kept their horses and had storage rings for their most valuable belongings. Helina walked alongside her children as they clung to her, terrified as to what would happen next. Owen was leading the family, spear in hand as they marched along with the crowd. Once they got out of the tunnel she knew they needed to leave Yuhia. Things were changing in this war and she didn’t want her kids to be a part of it.
“We’re almost there guys, keep going,” someone at the front of the pack said. “Once we’re out we have to get to the gate to the outer city. Head straight there and do not stop anywhere; we aren’t out of danger yet.”
“If you have on anything that will make you look associated with the Isi family, take it off or hide it,” another man said. “I know it doesn’t feel right, but the Isi want us to survive and that is why they are fighting for us. We will rebuild.”
Helina couldn’t help but worry about Tanisha and Bjorn. The familiar had run out of the estate with such ferocity, but there was no telling what awaited him. Tanisha had improved over the weeks, but she was still a novice and still such a young girl. The goblin mother couldn’t help but feel like she should help her; Tanisha reminded her so much of herself several centuries ago. Lost, afraid and forced into one shitty situation after another because of forces out of her control. Helina couldn’t help but fear the worst, that Tanisha was dead; she looked down at her own kids and resolved they would get out of here alive.
The group came to stop at a massive stone door. Two men reached out and placed their hands on the edifice, and lines of chakra lit up along carvings. The door shook as stones separated, scraping against each other in a long whine. Fresh air and light flooded into the tunnel, but soon so did the sounds of combat.
“It’s master Tyr,” one of the men said. “If you can fight we have to help him!”
Owen turned to face Helina and his sons, determination on his face.
“I got them,” Helina said.
“Protect your mother, Wyatt. You too, Caleb,” Owen said. He then met his wife’s gaze. “I will be right back.”
Helina watched as Owen ran off. A man, one of the mystic swordsmen, passed by and nearly bumped into her. He looked focused on getting to the front to help, and she would have let it go, but noticed something strange. She wouldn’t have noticed it had she not been so cautious ever since Æsa was killed. The man didn’t have a shadow.
She had to think quickly. Helina knew that she couldn’t do anything to draw attention to the darkness construct while it was mixed in with the crowd. Most of them were non-combatants, and one of its retaliatory shadow arches would kill most of the people in the tunnel. She needed to follow and take it out once it left, before it got to the real Isi disciples.
“Stay with the horses,” Helina said to her children. “I will be right back.”