Chapter 27 – A Doppelganger of Sin
Adam fell behind Oliver and Emily as they ran over the roofs of buildings within the fortress. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared at the younger version of himself. A man whose arms were enveloped by a blood-red vapour as if they were set aflame. The spiked halo cast a red light on a face contorted by rage.
The current Adam’s fingers quivered. No… no, no, NO! I’d never used the Forbidden Arts back then! How is this happening? Is this a gigantic illusion?
However, all the details seemed to fit when the female warrior exhaled and formed a whirling grey cloud of translucent shapes. The figures within the familiar Invocation manifested into heads of people and animals who soundlessly howled in endless sadness. Pure knights hit by the Invocation didn’t yell, although it dissolved armour and flesh like acid.
One of the Pure knights lunged forward in an attempt to stab the young Adam, but he vaulted and felled the Pure knight with a mighty downward kick. Laughing in the fury of battle, he punched one of his fist weapons hard enough to tear a hole through the shield of the Pure knight who came next. The blood-red haze scorched his enemies where it hit them. Pure knights tried to encircle the young Adam, but the mysterious female warrior conjured the orange, biting aura around her sword and used it to cleave through two Pure knights in one swing.
The Pure knights had excellent equipment and outnumbered them by far; there should be no doubt who would win this battle. However, the young Adam and the warrior complemented each other perfectly. While the warrior used the Forbidden Arts from mid-range, the young Adam jumped beside or ducked beneath her broad Invocations to assault the enemy up close. Savage as a pair of ravenous lions, they vaulted, pounced, rolled, and fought all along the wall section. Gradually, the knights were pushed back.
They, I mean, we are fighting as a team. As if we’ve done so for years. Adam remembered how, back in the pyramid, the female knight had looked at him with fury and disappointment. She hated me for something I’d supposedly done. But… no, this can’t be real! I’ve never seen her before and never used the Forbidden Arts back then! However, something in her movements was so familiar.
The Pure knights smiled with an empty calmness, a void serenity. Yet, the young Adam grinned like a man who revelled in what he was doing. He laughed like a blood-thirsted hyena, as if he savoured every blow like a fine wine, dodging the enemies’ moves like a true artist of war. The halo above his head shed everything around him in a red light.
Adam shivered when Emily’s voice echoed in his head. ‘The War changed you somehow. I had the feeling the fame and ‘glory’ had risen to your head. Especially after you defeated Ajax and everyone talked about you as the ‘Fist of Gotterburg’ or even as the hope for humanity. You boasted all the time about your achievements, even Caine thought it was a bit too much. You talked down on others and enjoyed fighting way too much.’
The young Adam grabbed one of the Pure knights by the cage around his head and threw him. The knight crashed into the fresh Pure soldiers who walked over the siege tower’s drawbridge. With a savage laugh, the young Adam jumped after them into the siege tower, his fist weapons raised. For a moment, he wasn’t visible and all seemed quiet inside the tower.
A bright, blood-red glow came first, spilling through slits between the siege tower’s planks, lighting it up from within. Right after, a billowing mass of fire, shaped like the roaring head of a lion, blew up the tower’s top half. It took a second before the immense heat, the shock wave of pressure, and the deafening sound of the explosion reached Adam. Pure soldiers who had been climbing the siege tower fell down or were blasted away in all directions, just like the broken timber and nails that rained down. The young Adam jumped out of the inferno, covered in fire, and soared through the air towards a particularly unlucky Pure knight on the wall. Like a meteorite, the young Adam punched down at full velocity, breaking a crater in the wall. The true Fist of Gotterburg stood up and roared his challenge for all the world to hear. The blood-red vapour that enveloped him like an aura formed two bull-like horns beside the savage halo above his head.
The current Adam almost fell down as he followed Emily and Oliver. He knew he’d fought well in the War of the Prophet, he was painfully aware his skills had deteriorated over time. But seeing the might before him made him feel old, rusty, like a shrivelled echo. He’d been weakened due to his imbecile apathy and laziness, for which he only had himself to blame.
However, Oliver continued his way over the fortress’ buildings like nothing unusual was happening. As if he has seen me like this dozens of times before. Emily looked at the young Adam for a moment, then she glared back at the old one. Her accusing eyes smouldered with anger. What is happening? To her, I’m just another liar. Just another manipulative dirtbag who tries to play with her heartstrings.
Fate seemed to be at the side of the Pure as their army assaulted the fortress of Eulenschloss. While their mighty catapults and trebuchets wrought destruction, the soldiers on foot assaulted the walls with ladders and siege towers. However, far ahead in the mountain pass, Zachalynn prepared her heavy cavalry to charge the Pure from behind. It was one of the many battles within the War of the Prophet, one the Royal Army of Dorenland and the Talons of Aves had won already, eight years ago.
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Followed by Emily and Oliver, Adam climbed the fortified tower where Caine guarded Agatha the Red. The cold wind tore at him as he carefully placed his fingers and boots between the rough stones of the outside wall.
Emily, who climbed below him, hadn’t said a word for a while. With a scorn of anger, she avoided Adam with her gaze.
Red-faced and with sweat on his brow, Oliver climbed below Emily. “Stupid tower,” he grumbled. “Stupid Caine, stupid siege… why do we have to climb this misshapen heap of rock?”
Adam wiped sweat off his brow. “Would you rather fight through all the guards from your own team? In that case, I sure hope Caine and Agatha are practising a drum concert up there, or they just might be able to hear us coming.”
“Ever heard of rhetorical questions?” Oliver asked. “Stupid Adam, making me climb for the second time now…”
The siege of the fortress calmed down a bit, like they were in the eye of the storm. Although multiple skirmishes on the wall were still taking place, the Pure’s catapults and trebuchets had stopped firing and most Pure soldiers were repositioning. Four jewelled Armistherii were pulling a massive battering ram forward. The monstrous siege weapon was shielded with thick plates and decorated with ivory statues of the Prophet and gilded scenes of the Heavens. Twelve riveted wheels turned, carrying the monstrosity to the western gate.
After a while, Adam neared the small balcony from which two voices could be heard. As quietly as possible, Emily, Oliver, and he pulled themselves up to a small plateau with gargoyles that stood a bit lower on the tower. Hiding behind one of the gargoyles and craning his neck to the upper right, he had a relatively good view.
Adam bared his teeth in seething hatred when he saw the man he used to love as a brother: Caine. Clenching his fists, he resisted the urge to climb up there and slam him against the wall.
Caine wore the uniform of the Talons of Aves, including the owl-like helm which he held in his arm. Like in many of Adam’s happier memories, Caine was still around twenty-three here. Looking young and sharp, his short black goatee neatly trimmed, he stared at the battle on the walls below. Yet, there was something odd about him. Adam frowned, trying to pinpoint what it was. Caine’s nose, which always was a tad on the big side, was even larger somehow and his slight overbite was even more pronounced. There were all kinds of little features on his face which seemed slightly exaggerated, or hardly visible.
Adam’s mouth fell open when he took a closer look at Agatha the Red. He knew her from back in the War of the Prophet, but he was sure he’d never found her attractive before. Now he had to blink a few times before he truly recognized her; she was stunning.
Most differences made sense though. This siege had happened when Agatha was still in her thirties and before she endured years of imprisonment. It was hard to imagine her athletic body becoming so emaciated that she was totally dependent on her signature throne of needles to survive. Founding the Penduli despite her excruciating physical state was the reason she obtained her honorary nickname of the Queen of Glass.
Here, her hair—kept in a complex hairdo of braids—was still red as a flame instead of white. Her sepia-brown skin had a warm, orange undertone and her face looked young and healthy. It was like she would age many times as quickly in the upcoming years. However, the power that radiated from her slanted eyes was the same as always; she looked as worthy and unshakable as ever.
Even from his plateau, Adam the warmth emanating from Agatha. He had trouble looking away from her strangely enchanting face, feeling fuzzy and tingly somehow. Certain features that Adam clearly remembered, like the distinct cheekbones and thin lips, were way less pronounced. Other traits, like her enchanting eyes and smooth skin, seemed prettier than ever before.
Adam blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out what was going on. Full of questions, he turned to Oliver, who studied the pair in deep concentration, fiddling with his lips. Emily frowned in confusion. Looking at Adam, she quickly pressed a finger to her lips and pointed back up.
“Hmm, our troops on the western walls did remarkably well, don’t you think?” Agatha said as she looked over the battlefield. Her voice, with a subtle Oberian accent, was warm and rich like honey, almost sensual. “Such a relief they managed to hold on for now…”
“Indeed,” Caine said, his voice sounding strangely off. It seemed even more raspy and nasal than normal, especially compared to Agatha’s. He tapped his helmet with his fingers and sighed. “Ugh, I hate this! Every time the Pure creep behind Adam I want to warn him. Or, I don’t know, do something at least! He gets so reckless these days…” Caine looked down at the young Adam with worry in his yellow eyes. Adam frowned and cocked his head to the side. Was that… genuine? Were we still truly friends back then?
Agatha leaned over the parapet and brushed a lock of red hair from her face. “Calm, your friend definitely knows how to handle himself in a fight. And if the situation is dire enough, the general has given us permission to join the action.” She smiled vaguely. “I can imagine you’re dying to leave my side.”
Caine laughed and gave her a sly smile. “Oh, I can’t wait.”
Agatha raised an amused eyebrow and slowly turned a glass of wine in her hand. Adam noticed Caine stood closer beside her than he would expect from a guard.
Agatha looked over the battlefield again, and her expression turned more serious. “How many soldiers have defected to the Pure today?”
“Forty-five,” Caine answered. “Fewer than average these days though, it seems your speech put some steel into them.”
Agatha shook her head. “Forty-five lost souls too many. Try to imagine a row of five people, loved and cherished by friends and family. Now imagine nine times as many, lying in coffins. Gone, lost from this world. A tragedy.” She sighed deeply, unashamed to show her sadness and grief. Quite unlike many other persons in power.
Caine snuck a look at her and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s heartbreaking… people seem to answer to the Prophet’s promise of a painless existence more and more. Many don’t see a way out and join out of sheer desperation. If only there was a way to turn them back to normal. If we could figure out what kind of sorcery the Prophet uses, maybe we could undo its effects…” Caine stroked his goatee, deep in thought.
Adam knew that look. Lazy as Caine had always been—being the ridiculously talented worm who barely had to work to reach his goals—there weren’t a lot of subjects that had truly caught his interest. This, however, was clearly one of them.