Epilogue: That Which Was Left Behind

It took an hour to dig through the rubble of the Throne Room, even with the assistance of the Slumbering Calamity. Kertouli was not pleased with the slow progress. Sheena had slipped through his fingers, and she was going to relish torturing Albrecht for this. Without Sheena’s blood, there would be no way to awaken the other Calamities. The blood had been enriched with the power of spirits, forged through a contract made long ago, and was the only thing capable of powering the ancient golems. Kertouli’s hand balled into a fist as he thought about how this development would affect the war.

The wreckage was slowly being cleared away by a combination of soldiers and thralls. Laspa had sustained a minor head injury during the battle when a rock had knocked her unconscious, but she was in a good enough condition to aid the search effort with her puppets. The search was going slow, however, and Kertouli was close to despair. He might not find what he was looking for at all.

The blood circle had been damaged, confirming his worst fear. His intent had been to follow Sheena through the circle and capture her before she could escape, but with the circle out of commission, there was no chance of that. Sheena was now out of Kertouli’s reach. The worst case scenario had come to pass. Kertouli lifted a piece of rubble with his magic and threw it against a wall in anger.

Mattigen called out from the other side of the room. “Idle anger will solve nothing, Emberal. We mustn’t lose our heads. We can alert the Border Guard to be on the lookout for Sheena. She will not slip through our fingers again.” Mattigen was kneeling next to his fallen demon, cradling its head gently. He closed the beast’s eyes gently and stood once more.

“Emberal, it should be clear what our course of action is. We should delay the declaration of war. The people saw what transpired here. They see the Calamity, they see its wound. Unless we recapture Sheena, our people will never commit to a war. We must be careful. Either that, or we find another way…”

Laspa snapped at Mattigen. “There is no other way. Without the blood of a spirit contractor, we have no way to awaken the Calamities. But every minute we sit here thinking about the impossible is one more minute we give the enemy time to learn of our plans! It will not take long for other nations to hear that one of the Calamities is awake. The news will spread like wildfire. Then we shall face the dragontamers’ wrath.”

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Kertouli whirled around so he could see both Magisters. “Enough! This debate is pointless. We shall reconvene the Council in one hour. We shall decide on the matter of how to proceed once all the remaining Magister Lords have joined us. So still your tongues!” Kertouli stomped his foot to emphasize his displeasure.

But his foot stepped on something soft. He nearly lost his footing in surprise. Looking down, he found that the rock he had thrown with her magic had uncovered something more valuable than anything he could have asked for.

The corpse of Gerhalt Albrecht, Prime Minister of Algrustos.

And spirit contractor.

Kertouli had seen him wield magic without his staff during their battle in the catacombs. Only spirit contractors were capable of such feats. Sheena’s family had all been spirit contractors, and the ability had passed down the bloodline to her, making her a candidate for awakening the Calamities.

And now Kertouli had the body of another contractor, right here in front of him.

Kertouli’s smile spread wide across his face. “Mattigen! Laspa! To me! I have found us the answer!” With his staff, Kertouli began to lift more stones from atop Albrecht’s body, confirming that he was very much dead. The other Magisters were stunned only for a second, but they soon pitched in as well. Within minutes, they had dug the Prime Minister from the rubble.

Laspa giggled. “With his blood, we could potentially awaken two or three, maybe even four more Calamities! With such power, we would certainly destroy Ishmar!” She tightened her grip on her staff. “So, Lord Kertouli, what shall we do?”

Kertouli folded his arms and sneered. “We shall convene the Council and tell them of this development. I’m sure that they will all agree on our course of action. Once the people see the Calamities reach skyward once more, they will cry out for blood. Ishmarian blood. We will march west with the Calamities at the head of our armies. We shall send word to our allies to send their strongest armies and mightiest warriors. Ishmar will know defeat. And we shall be poised to rule in their stead.”

Two soldiers reached down and lifted Albrecht’s corpse onto their shoulders. Laspa licked her lips as she prepared the spell to drain the body of blood. A river of red flowed from the wounds all over the Prime Minister’s body, flowing into the urn Kertouli had brought with him. Thankfully, a great deal of blood had remained within the body; the urn was completely topped off when the body ran dry.

With its use exhausted, the soldiers allowed Albrecht’s body to fall back to the ground. Kertouli placed the lid on the urn, securing it tightly. Snickering, he motioned for all of the Magisters to follow him back to the catacombs. Before the day was out, he would awaken the Calamities, as many as he could. The damage to the already awakened Calamity would be repaired. And then, the march against Ishmar would begin.

Today was just the first of the blood to be spilled. Tomorrow, there would be more.

Tomorrow, there would be war.