The barren desert stretched out endlessly before their eyes. It was a desolate place, golden brown and dusty with barely a speck of lush green.
The group had noticed the change in the air—the hot, dry stifling air replacing the fresh salty breeze as they neared land. The waters around Anhua were a brilliant blue-green hue that was so clear the sandy seafloor was visible beneath their boat.
Not far from the coast was a city—Esover, Anhua’s new capital and the primary trading hub of Dargon. It was a massive bustling city rivalling that of Sanobar’s Naebel and Silvardor’s Ni’aad. Although Anhua had been decimated after the demon war, traders and mercenaries were quick to rebuild Anhua as the ‘free desert kingdom that welcomed all’ and it was now a major centre of activity. Esover was cleverly built around an oasis, and the dusty brown sandstone buildings at the fringes of Esover were dull in comparison to the verdant vegetation growing sparsely around the lake.
However, the present Esover was but a shell of it’s legendary glory. The city wall—built of imported dwarven stone—was broken and had gaping holes in many places. The wooden beams that had supported the wall further were exposed—some even broken and littered on the ground in fragments. All they could see beyond that was crumbled homes and a sky filled with smoke.
Lirya peered through the smoke, aghast. Though she’d grown somewhat accustomed to seeing the destruction, it still weighed heavily upon her.
If I had the powers they expect me to have, as the keyguard, would I have been able to stop this? She wondered.
She absentmindedly walked towards the ruined city and Aidan grabbed her, quickly throwing them both on the ground. Lirya was about to give an indignant protest when Aidan covered her mouth with a fierce glare and gestured beyond the walls.
Her heart skipped a beat as a patrol of demon guards stomped by and she realised what he had just done. Behind them, the others had swiftly stopped in their tracks and crouched down.
Lirya held her breath as she counted the demon guards, her heart beating loudly. 1… 2… 5, 6 guards she counted. The demons looked identical, each with a pair of curling horns, fiery red skin and a grotesque face.
Soon the demons passed and the others carefully regrouped, some dusting sand off their clothes, and instantly the bickering began.
“There are demons! Demons!” Lirya yelped, her heart still pounding, as she spat sand out of her mouth with a disgusted face.
Jason said calmly, “So we’ll need to reevaluate the situation. The elven royals told us to find the dragon eggs, right? Can we sneak in and steal them, or will we have to clear out the city?”
There was a brief discussion and it was decided that they would try to infiltrate Esover—a decision that was affirmed when Aidan did some reconnaissance and divulged the numbers of just how many demons occupied the city.
They waited until nightfall and carefully clambered in through one of the holes in the city wall under the cover of darkness. The flames in the city centre had long since been snuffed out and besides the demon patrols, there were no other lights within the city. It was still and silent… an eerie fallen city.
They had made it deep within the city when a demon patrol approached. The group quickly backed into a dark alleyway, but the demon patrol headed in that direction. They backed away a few steps and Lirya felt her back bump into a wall. Her heart skipped a beat and she looked back, a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realised that they were trapped. Jason moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, stepping forward a bit.
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“I’ll take care of them,” He whispered, “So the rest of you can continue. I’ll join you all in a bit.”
Lirya surged forward, grabbing his sleeve and wordlessly shaking her head, but he gently tugged his sleeve away and stepped out into the torchlight, drawing his sword as he went.
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Jason stepped out and almost collided with a demon. He quickly brought up his sword and slashed it down diagonally across the demon’s chest. It gave a screech and a gurgle that was cut off as Jason then drove the sword through its throat. Warm golden blood rained on him and he heard the shuffling footsteps of the others running away from behind him. He turned to face the remaining demons, who had gotten over the initial surprise and now brandished their claws and makeshift clubs—fashioned from what looked like the support poles from the city wall.
Jason immediately swung at the next demon, but was only able to graze it as it jumped back to avoid his blade. The demons immediately swarmed at him and he began a dangerous dance—weaving in between the demons and ducking blows as he dispatched them one by one, adding wind to his stride and extra strength to his hits with his versatile power. They were an uncoordinated bunch, but far bigger and stronger than him and as he dispatched yet another demon, he began to feel the fatigue setting in. He faced the last demon, gasping for breath, and raised his sword shakily.
He had yet to taste the sting of defeat and had the confidence to match, but as the weariness made his sword hard to wield, doubts began to set in. Still, he gripped the handle of his sword tighter and mustered up every last bit of his strength to push wind to his feet and dashed at the demon, twisting at the last second to avoid the demon’s club. He slashed at the demon and twisted, dragging the sword around the demon’s body and carving a large gash in its side and back. Golden blood spurted and the demon howled, falling on one knee. Jason stuck his sword in the ground and leaned heavily on it. The demon was dying… He knew that much. Strangely, he reflected, killing the demons had become easy for him. He felt no remorse and only numbness.
In its last dying moments, the demon stumbled and turned to face him with a grotesque glare, hand held over the large gash as if it could do anything to stop the inevitable death. It crouched and jumped—further than Jason ever thought a demon was capable of—and swung the club down at Jason. He saw incoming danger and tried to move, but his body betrayed him and he stumbled and then he felt a brief impact and saw blackness.
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And not a moment later, Jason was astounded to find himself once again thrust from his body. He watched in stunned silence as the demon sank to the ground and life faded from its eyes and it slowly started turning into ash.
Am I… dead? Jason wondered, noting that he was indeed translucent. Soon, an insistent tugging feeling violently jerked him through the ground and into what appeared to be a neverending grey brick-tiled tunnel lit with eerie green lanterns, that was dark one way and light the other. Murky water covered the ground obscuring the tiled brick path in places and sickly green algae clung to the walls of the tunnel. Countless spirits trudged mindlessly towards the light at the end of the tunnel and Jason tried to follow them. As he moved, yet another violent force grabbed hold of him and he found himself thrown through the tunnel wall and a blindingly bright light engulfed him.
When he could see again, Jason found himself in a field of ripe golden wheat that stretched out endlessly. As he peered around, a light rain began to fall from cloudy skies letting only a hint of sunlight peek through the dense clouds.
In the distance he saw a man with a mane of hair like fine spun gold. A man who wore a chestplate, and had a scabbard strapped to his side. He was not armed, though. The scabbard was empty, but Jason recognized this man. Who could not, when he looked so alike that none who looked at the two would doubt their heritage?
“Father…” He whispered, stunned.