Garin stepped from the shadows, appearing in an ally deep within the heart of the slums. He fought to keep his eyes off the hills of bodies, but his shadow sense allowed him to feel their sinister emanations. He could almost hear their wails, pleading for someone, anyone, to save them from their fate. The horrifying sight was unnerving, so he traveled slowly, trying to understand what had happened.
The slums, once packed with humans, were bare and empty. He found a few stragglers, who looked like looters from what he could gather. Garin followed the closest looter into one of the homes, watching as he filled a sack with various items and goods. Stepping out of the shadows, he struck out, knocking the man to the ground in a heap before dragging him to a side room.
Garin chuckled as he pulled a thin rope from his pack and bound the man tightly. He searched for the dirtiest piece of cloth he could find and shoved it into the man's mouth, standing back, quite satisfied with his work. Pulling his dagger, he reached out with his free hand and slapped the man hard, waking him with a jolt.
He tried to scream, eyes wide with terror, until Garin’s knife came to rest on his throat. Garin leaned in, his cold grey eyes promising death, as he put his finger to his lips. The man froze, breathing heavily, nodding his head in confirmation.
Garin smiled mischievously, his voice oozing with contempt as he warned the man, “Not a peep little mouse, or there will be one less human to soil the world.”
Sweat beaded the man’s brow as he nodded slowly, eyes searching Garin as if trying to understand what predicament he was truly in.
“When I remove the gag, tell me everything that is happening. Nothing more and nothing less, are we clear?” Garin asked, the shadows deepening around him menacingly.
The man blanched, dread consuming him as Garin reached up and removed the gag. He gasped for breath, coughing and spitting, trying to rid himself of the foul taste from the dirty cloth.
“What the hell did you put in my mouth?” He gagged.
Garin slapped him again. "Fool, I want answers, not questions!”
“What do you want from me, you bastard?” The man exclaimed, blood dripping from his torn lip.
Garin swore, shaking his head in disappointment, ‘You could never get anywhere with these damn humans!’
“What happened? Where is Karla?” Garin growled, putting pressure on the dagger.
“Karla... was replaced, Lord Thadius rules the city now,” the man answered shakily. “He imprisoned the other Council members, and the last of the resistance are camped on the other side of the slums.”
“Replaced?” Garin muttered dumbfounded, having no clue who the hell Thadius was. “Where is Bently?” He asked gruffly.
“He was one of the first to be taken captive,” the man continued. “They're using him to try and break the hearts of the resistance. He lives, but who knows for how long.”
Garin nodded in thought as he listened to the man's words. Karla and Bently were clearly out of the picture, but he didn't know anything about this Thadius, doubting even Aaron knew who he was. Garin looked at the man suspiciously, continuing his questioning.
“Who is this Thadius, and how could he possibly defeat the most powerful figureheads in the city?”
“Demons!” The man cursed. “That bastard summoned a horde of demons and sent them rampaging through the slums.” His voice cracked as he spoke, clearly troubled by what he had witnessed. “They slaughtered anyone who was in their path, eventually locking themselves in the stronghold with Lord Thadius.”
“Demons?” Garin scoffed, eyeing the man skeptically. He knew the humans were stupid, but this was beyond even his lowly expectations.
“I swear it!” The man exclaimed.
The look in his eyes gave Garin pause, but his words were too far-fetched to be believable. He knew of the other realms due to his insight, allowing him to pass through the shadow plane. But to believe that a horde was summoned from the depths of hell itself was absurd at best.
“Where is the military?” Garin asked as he didn’t see them just laying down their weapons. They were trained well by General Briant, a despicable man but a strong leader.
“They built a barricade and are camped on the west side of the slums,” the man answered, his words full of worry. “But without access to the city, they are in shambles, barely hanging on.”
Garin nodded, processing everything he knew about the city and what appeared to be the horrible state it was in. It sounded like a normal powerplay between rival factions, but looking at the pile of bodies, this was anything but normal, even for the humans. He needed to report to Aaron quickly before they stumbled into something beyond them.
Stepping forward, Garin plunged his dagger into the man's heart, sneering as he watched him fall over, life leaving him before he even hit the floor. The man was a thief and a lowlife, but above all else, he was a human. He held no remorse for ending such a worthless existence.
Garin headed back through the city, his heart leaping with joy. He felt like he had come home, back to a city full of nooks and crannies, with dark alleyways and a world of shadows free for the taking. He had made up his mind and wouldn’t be returning with Aaron back into the forest. He would bring some of the others that he had trained, and they would carve a place for themselves here. They would play the games that the humans so loved.
They would make the city their home.
As he traveled, he scanned for any signs of these so-called demons. What he found left him even more puzzled, as there were countless tracks spread throughout the slums. But they appeared in every way to be the feet of children. ‘Where in the hell did so many children come from?’ Garin muttered before leaping into the shadows, moving swiftly back toward his siblings.
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Aaron listened to Garin's report with a scowl, his heart beating wildly.
The idea that anyone was capable of subduing all the elite within the city was hard to swallow. The scouts reported the barricades, so he already knew that a large force was camped outside the city. He just hadn’t known why and was struggling to come to terms with what he was hearing. Aaron eyed Garin's cheeky demeanor, knowing there was more to his story.
He could see the blood on his hands.
Aaron knew his brother held no love for the humans, but such things were beneath them. He stepped forward slowly, reaching out and clasping Garin’s shoulder as he eyed him sternly.
“Mother gave us a gift. We would be wise to not lose ourselves to bitterness,” he spoke low, pushing his intent through the bond.
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“N... no worries,” Garin chuckled nervously, refusing to make eye contact.
Aaron backed off, hoping his words helped to nudge his brother in a better direction. Fighting for a cause was one thing, but he didn’t feel it was wise to commit blatant murder so casually. Turning away, Aaron sent orders through the bond, instructing his siblings to prepare.
Cornelius hurried his steps, moving to Aaron’s side. “How is this possible?” He exclaimed, clearly rattled. “The Council's combined strength was staggering! To think that anyone was capable of overpowering them... it’s just not possible!”
“We need to reach out to this so-called resistance. They should be able to give us more information,” Aaron concluded, understanding his brother's worry. “Be ready, as they’ll likely see us as a threat.”
Cornelius nodded, falling back as they moved quickly through the slums. The scouts led the way, and soon the barricades came into sight, the sounds of inhabitants finally filling the air. The camp was an enormous palisade that looked to be put together in haste, barely holding itself together.
Aaron ordered them to slow as they crept into the open, letting the guards atop the walls spot them. Calls and shouts of alarm rang through the camp as soldiers took up arms, preparing for battle. He saw countless archers take their stance, so they stopped just out of reach as he sent a call through the bond.
Ciel stepped forward, her hair dancing in the breeze as she raised her voice to the heavens. “We mean no harm. Aaron Firstborn, lord of Arrondale, seeks council.”
Why did she have to say it like that?’ Aaron groaned, cupping his face with his palm.
Her voice carried with the wind, whispering eerily throughout the camp. Aaron heard murmurs and shouts, watching as two figures yelled at one another atop the wall. Although his eyesight was better than a human's, he couldn’t quite make out their features.
Aaron saw one of the figures waving angrily at the other as they turned from the wall, leaving their view. He heard some commotion before the wooden gates creaked open, allowing a single person to pass through. The man huffed, cursing back at the closing gates before heading in their direction. They watched chagrined as the figure walked toward them with hurried steps waving like a madman.
Cornelius was the first to step forward in recognition. “That wily bastard Kaznor is still alive!” He laughed, waving back excitedly.
Aaron finally recognized the man, but he looked rough, his hair wild and shaggy. He was surprised that the head of the Academy had actually joined the resistance forces. He rolled his eyes at his brother’s enthusiasm, cringing at the memory of their insistent arguing. They walked forward slowly with Cornelius taking the lead as the man closed the last distance.
“Kaznor, you old fool!” Cornelius greeted, grasping the man by the arm, supporting him as he breathed heavily from the long sprint.
“What the hell are you doing back?” Kaznor rasped, a hint of panic in his eyes.
Aaron cut in before the two love boards could go any further. “Where are Bently and Karla? What happened?” He asked forcefully as Kaznor recoiled, taking a step back.
Aaron paused…
Their time away had changed them and was now fully on display. Aaron knew that they were young when forced from the tunnels in the labyrinth and were still developing. The nurturing from the Mother Tree had taken this to even greater heights. He had felt it and knew they were developing rapidly, but this was the first time their extreme growth was put into perspective.
He towered over Kaznor as the man gaped in awe.
Aaron figured he was about as tall as Bently now; his muscles were more defined, yet his body was still lithe and nimble. He assumed they would most likely tower over most average humans at this point. He was also aware that they had begun to peak, their growth nearly stopping completely during the winter.
“Aaron!” Kaznor greeted, calming himself. “Karla...” he fumbled as if the words were difficult to speak. “Karla was taken into custody, and no one has seen her since. They are using some type of collar, but it's far more powerful than anything we’ve ever seen.”
“Where is Bently?”
“He was taken at the same time as Karla. He and General Briant both, but Bently remains in their custody.”
“Where is Briant?” Aaron asked, doubting anyone could have defeated such a titan.
A look of grief passed across Kaznor’s face as he nodded his head in the direction of the hills in the center of the slums. It fell quiet, as no words were spoken, but to Aaron, the silence spoke the loudest. The greatest powerhouse in the city had been taken out first, leading to a cascade of events.
Kaznor explained how some of the upper echelons had stood behind Thadius, while the rest were trapped within the city. They had dethroned Karla, parading her through the streets as a tyrant. Bently and Deagon were in custody, while General Briant was dead, throwing the soldiers into shambles. The Order had closed its doors tightly, and no one had heard from them.
A low hum tore through the clearing interrupting their reunion.
Kaznor’s eyes widened as he jolted upright, sputtering frantically, “They’re coming!”
“What is it?” Cornelius asked in alarm.
“Get to the walls! Now!” Kaznor shrieked before turning and fleeing toward the wall as fast as his legs could carry him.
Aaron and Cornelius glanced at each other before following Kaznor to the walls of the camp. They hung close to the man, assuming the humans wouldn’t want to kill one of their most powerful leaders. The others followed as Aaron sent ripples through the bond, instructing them to remain alert.
They slowed, letting Kaznor reach the wall first, where he promptly began a shouting match with the same figure he had before. Aaron heard them shouting before the man huffed and turned to the side, yelling out orders. The gates creaked open slowly as Kaznor walked forward, still cursing furiously. Countless soldiers lined the way, brandishing swords and spears with grim, determined looks in their eyes.
Kaznor turned back, waving at them to follow before continuing into the camp. They followed behind as the humans glared threateningly, the tension in the air palpable. Aaron wasn’t too worried, as he could see their cores with his sight and knew how weak they were.
‘They were so tiny!’ Aaron chuckled, smiling fiendishly as they moved through the human ranks to stand before the man Kaznor had argued with. He was a tall, gruff man who spoke harshly as he shouted back at Kaznor. His name was Roland, and the way he looked at him and his siblings in disgust made Aaron smile even wider.
‘Humans were so adorable,’ Aaron mused, struggling not to laugh out loud.
A horn blared, cutting through the air.
The camp jumped into motion, soldiers rushing to the walls as the gates were shut tight and braced with thick beams. Aaron followed Kaznor and Roland atop the palisade, looking toward the city. From where they stood, they could see the walls of the stronghold rising in the distance, looming behind the slums.
The large gate centered on the west side was opening, horns blaring ominously. The entire camp was on edge as they watched a swarm of dark masses spilling from the open gates. Aaron looked on in shock as the swarm tore through the slums, raising a cloud of dust with their passing. The wind picked up carrying hints of wicked howls and shouts of murderous glee.
Kaznor stepped closer, whispering forlornly, “The soldiers call them the Demons of Westgate.”
Aaron's jaw clenched as he waited for the swarm to exit the slums, antsy to understand what the hell was going on. He leaned forward, peering closely as small figures spilled into the outskirts, growing in numbers rapidly. He leaned forward further, almost falling over the wall, in both intrigue and horror at what he saw.
It was a swarm of small green creatures, their voices shrill and guttural as they howled with battle lust. They wore a patchwork of loose-fitted armor, seemingly taken from those who had fallen in battle. Carrying spears, swords, or anything else they could find, they stomped forward, ears flopping with eyes that burned with murderous rage.
"From the cores that were gathered, they are called goblins," Kaznor explained. “You will get to see Bently sooner than I thought,” he whispered, his shoulders drooping as he nodded toward the back of the swarm.
Aaron perked up, glancing at Kaznor before peering back into the tide of goblins. At the back of the horde, he saw that some were struggling, carrying large logs, the length of entire trees. His heart clenched at the sight of the two figures strapped to the end of the logs as the sound of war drums joined the swarms march forward.
But the drums were no louder than the beating of his own heart.
Aaron watched, horrified as they dug holes, slotting the post within and raised the logs high, like stakes jutting out from the earth. Bently and Deagon were bound tightly, odd-looking collars fixed around their necks, their arms dangling, broken, and mangled. Bently's entire body was covered in lacerations and bite marks, whole patches of flesh missing. His face was discolored and swollen, with only one eye peering outward defiantly, refusing to break or succumb to his wounds.
That single eye tore into Aaron’s soul.
It was unshakable and unrelenting.
A flame ignited within the depths of his soul as a bestial roar tore from his lips. Soul flames ignited around him, bursting from every pore as he bellowed in rage. Aaron heard the others shouting at him, but they were no more than whispers compared to his heart thundering in his ears.
The man had given his life to them...
Owed it to them.
Aaron stepped from the wall while controlling his center of mass. He fell like a meteor, crashing into the ground as cracks spread, a crater forming from the impact. He looked up, soul flames dancing across his body as he shot forward, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
Golden arcs of lightning crackled, mixing with the rolling flames as he released mana from his core. Aaron pulled his blade as he ran, his mad laughter echoing through the clearing.
It was time to claim what was his.