The loud blare of a warhorn sounded, and a stifling feeling of utter terror engulfed Leus. He had not gained his guardian powers until after the first battle with the demons, so he had not fought them head on, but he knew that he would have to step up. If he—and all of the guardians—did not step up and defend against the massive demon army, Dargon would be doomed.
I promised to return, He thought, I swore I’d come back so we could spend the rest of our lives together.
Leus exchanged glances with the others and saw similar emotions reflected in their eyes. Somewhat bitterly, he thought, Isn’t it funny how the six of us have been thrown the lion’s share of the burden? I—we never asked to be given these powers, and yet we cannot reject them either. For without us, how could the kingdoms of Dargon hope to survive the united demon army?
But there was something that had brought them together—something that they each held dear enough to risk their lives travelling continents and honing their powers and doing everything they could to stop a demon invasion.
Leus took a deep breath and let his powers well up within him. He extended his senses and felt the parched earth and, deep below the surface, the cool flow of freshwater. He pulled that water upwards, channelling his powers into the palm of his right hand. Swift as an arrow, the water broke free of the soil and gathered in his palm, elongating and forming a shimmering weapon. It was a sword, alive and rippling with occasional waves across its surface, and it was razor sharp.
I haven’t learnt much about my powers, but being able to create weapons at will is certainly convenient, and a testament to the immense power each guardian holds, He thought.
He considered himself fortunate to have been forced to learn swordsmanship since he was a child, as it could very well save his life today. Leus dropped into a defensive stance, wielding the water blade as though it was an extension of his own arm. He looked at the others and saw the others ready up to fight. He could tell that they all instinctively knew they could not run here. Perhaps it was the power singing in their blood—power meant to protect Dargon—or maybe it was everyone they had fought so hard to protect so far.
Above them, the sky was grey but the air was stifling, without a single gust of wind. It was as if the world itself held its breath.
<--<< >>-->
As he watched his demon army descend to Anhua, Garyth could feel his body breaking down. Though his body appeared unscathed, every breath he drew felt like he was driving a knife into his chest. He gritted his teeth and stood tall, betraying nothing to enemies or allies.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
I cannot hold onto this body for much longer, He thought.
A shame… Kuban Whiterose was a good, strong vessel.
Out of nowhere, he sensed an incoming threat, and he waved his arm over his troops, casting a protective shield over them all. A split second later, a projectile hurtled towards them and broke upon his barrier. Garyth directed his gaze down on the guardians below. His gaze zeroed in on the culprit of the projectile—the human noble—and Garyth scowled. Not only had he failed to possess his body, but he’d awakened that brat’s powers early and now there was yet another nuisance standing in the way of his goal.
Run away… abandon your foolish pride and run away, Garyth thought, staring at the guardians.
My army is a hundred times the size of the one you fought in Silvador! You stand no chance, and yet you stay…
What could be so important that you’d forsake your lives here?! He thought, some unknown anger flooding through him.
Just run away! He thought, I do not wish to waste more lives in this exhausting lifetime.
He waited a moment longer, watching the guardians below like a hawk, then turned away to face his army.
Amplifying his voice with magic, he said in a voice that echoed around, “This is the day we have all been waiting for! Today we reconquer Anhua, then the rest of Dargon. The guardians are mere children—inexperienced and weak. Today, we will show all of Dargon who stands victorious!”
The demons cheered loudly, raising their weapons high in the air.
Garyth continued in a more sombre tone, “Just never forget my words when I say you may do anything you wish, but… au’cot karje ai crisaesun. I will kill anyone who disobeys this rule, with no exceptions.”
He emphasised the rule in the ancient language, which was the primary language of the demons. There was an undercurrent of annoyance from the demons, but that quieted when Garyth directed an icy glare at them all. It was not as if that rule was new to them—Garyth had made it clear from the beginning and promised to lead them to victory as long as they abided by that rule.
As he saw the entirety of his army had descended from the portals in the sky, Garyth closed the portals with a snap of his wrist, feeling a rush of magic return to him that numbed his pain for a few moments.
Garyth raised his arm and shot a ray of light straight up through the clouds and as high as the eye could see. He emptied his mind of useless thoughts and fancies and focussed on the present.
“Charge!” He yelled, dropping his arm and sending the ray of light towards the ground, where it dissipated.
The demons sprinted at the guardians, a crimson tide of death approaching at rapid pace. The back ranks loaded weapons of siege, for beyond the guardians lay Esover’s sister city, Aa’vengyrd—southern Anhua’s trade centre.
Garyth dropped to the ground behind the furthest back ranks of the demons, landing lightly on his feet. He raised a mud platform from the ground that lifted him high into the air—high enough to watch the entire battlefield with ease. The sheer size of the demon army was ludicrous in comparison to the six guardians that fought it, but Garyth had learnt from the last encounter that the guardian powers were not to be underestimated.
They had to be crushed, their wings clipped before they could learn to fly.