Arakiel ordered his soldiers to capture and disable any Middles that came their way if they did not resist but in case they did, then they couldn’t expect any mercy.
There was but one incident which intimidated the others to a degree that no further violence was necessary.
In the meantime, the northern army’s vanguard had spotted the Host which had made them stop their current pursuit in order to retreat, undoubtedly to make a report.
He sent an Air Alterator to scout for the army of the Land of Mountains as some Middles referred to the northern kingdom.
With no cover or anything else nearby, Arakiel’s commanders had the earth mages create some makeshift battlements for their archers while he and some others questioned some of their prisoners about the upcoming foe.
Nerigal’s Butchers, as the Middles called them, had hunted and worn down their army of several thousand after the leadership mysteriously died several weeks ago, leaving the commanding staff in disarray just long enough for the enemy to exploit it.
To be more precise, they had hunted them for sport and according to the terrified Middles, few survived the northerners captivity who just aimed to inflict a maximum amount of terror with their antics.
Quite successfully, apparently.
When questioned about estimated numbers, the Middles’ reports were conflicting, ranging from thousands to just several hundreds. Either way, it seemed like a sizable number, but Arakiel had confidence in the Smokeless Host portion of his army. According to reports and what he had witnessed, the Mirrors’ Host were decent fighters in their own right, but they weren’t exactly schooled in the art of battlefield warfare yet.
Nonetheless, he had great tacticians to call upon who were already planning the upcoming battle in real time given on the little information that they had received.
If the northern army took up the Hosts’ challenge, it’d come down to an open battle. Broadly speaking, Nerigal’s forces had exceptional gear and very potent earth mages with splashes of water and air whereas Arakiel had very good fire, decent astral and air mages which should favor his side. That assumption only worked on the premise that his mundane forces stood up to the enemy’s, of course.
His own scout returned not long afterwards, telling of a massive army marching their way, one of roughly a thousand northern combatants, led by who the Air Alterator presumed to be High King Nerigal, a beast of a man clad in black steel armor, just like his elite troops, of which there were over a hundred.
Arakiel’s commanders briefly queried whether he wished to meet the enemy on the field of battle. He relayed that question to his men, asking them whether they were cowards who fled in the face of an open battle with the sultan’s and his own blessing on their side.
The thunderous roars and chants that answered left no doubt about their morale – and now that they knew that the enemy was coming, everyone redoubled their efforts.
Earth Enchanters began to move over towards the front lines while Air and Astral Enchanters were applying their magics to the skirmishers and archers. Archery fire might not be the most potent against heavy armor and shields, but there was a decent chunk of lightly armored foes as well.
The few Fire Enchanters in his army began to make flaming arrows in the droves while the Earth Evokers and Alterators refined the battlements and the moat.
Shafar’s women applied their special touch to the frontline, coating their skin and soothing their mind while the mundane combatants, whether they be skirmishers, footmen or cavalry began to hype each other up.
Aisha, Akili, Basam and several other commanders were assessing a myriad of scenarios whereas Arakiel watched – and he felt proud of what he saw.
His own army worked like a freshly maintained machine, having ground into perfect gears. One component supported the other and so forth, forming a unity that the northerners would find difficult to contend against.
And then, after some time, Nerigal and his army appeared on the horizon, driving hundreds of frightened, half-dead Middles in their front.
These thralls would undoubtedly form the first wave, but unlike a Middle army, the Hosts wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest.
Only a small part of him wondered what had become of Ezekiel, for his main focus lay on the battle ahead.
His hands brushed over the three dawnshards that he had available for this fight while the rest of his formerly abundant soul had been reduced to a pitiful state that kept him going, but that was about it.
The king’s treasury had been thoroughly bereft of shards and he could only assume that the seelie had taken everything.
On a sign, a friendly Air Enchanter – a tall southerner with a kind smile – boosted his voice at which point Arakiel gave his hopefully final speech for this accursed plane. Taking point, he turned to face his men.
“Men of the Holy Transcended’s Chosen people – the final moment is at hand! You have swept the Middle Kingdom aside after decades of humiliation, have broken its back like it attempted to break yours in their cowardice!” He began while taking on Aurora’s aspect, which seemed so much thinner than what he recalled. It was barely a golden shimmer, much less an aura of golden fire.
Thinking back, it was the first time he had parted with her since he, Shemyaza and Ezekiel enacted ‘the solution’. And now that he became conscious about it, he wanted to reverse it right away, but all in due time.
Over there, across the fields, King Nerigal’s army began to spread out, their laughter and their captives’ wails reaching all the way over here.
Arakiel went on. “Before you stands the last hurdle, the ultimate challenge – a pack of wild and undisciplined mountain goats who have no understanding on the finer arts, who would take all that you have achieved over the past months from you! They have no interest in ruling, in governing or savoring the spices of life, they care only about destruction, about slaughter and butchery!”
He let his gaze wander across the two Hosts that had merged into one. So many eyes upon him, hopeful, supporting – gauging.
Arakiel’s left hand reached for the dawnshard at his new belt while he raised his right hand aloft. Meanwhile, he formed an air sigil in his mind, which he grabbed with the latter. As the golden lightning grew, he suddenly felt something invisible touch his left hand.
“Warriors! I, Arakiel il Kalanaar, have led you to victory time and time again and I will do so now once more – one last time, for once Nerigal and his butchers fall, this entire plane will be yours for the taking! Glory to al-Aliriq, glory to al-Bukhari, glory to al-Zuhyar! Glory to the Eternal City of Kalanaar and glory to the House of Alexandrite!”
During his speech, he saw tiny motes of a soft pink color travel across his body, starting from his left hand over towards his right hand, where they began to coil around his lightning javelin.
“Glory! Glory! Glory!” His army chanted in a steady rhythm, growing louder with each iteration.
Arakiel slowly turned his horse around as he felt an invisible, petite female body press against his from the back, right after which a voice whispered straight into his ear. Its ethereal resonance not only went straight into his mind, but it caused a pleasurable shiver to run down his spine.
“Now, a taste of true power.”
Nyanna had done something with his spell – and her intent was clear.
“Just this once… I let you wield what is mine,” she whispered on, challenging. “Come on… try it!”
Arakiel felt it, he felt that this… this would be special.
Behind him, his army cheered him on, waiting for him to make the first and definitive strike. To them, he would need to prove his capabilities first and foremost.
But he needed to prove it to her, to the seelie, so much more.
The little part in his mind that warned of making use an immortal’s gift… it mattered not.
How could it compare to… this?
Arakiel heard himself uttering a low chuckle as he bend his upper body to wind up the bolt of lightning and he found it heavy, almost as if it was laden with near-infinite power.
Over there, in the distance, the fools pranced about, thoroughly ignorant of their impending demise.
With every bit that he moved further back, his hand began to tremble more as if it was unable to contain the energies that it held, the power that it was about to unleash.
But he pulled through, for this was his right, this was his statement to the plane, to his army, to his enemies – to all and everyone.
With a roar that came from the bottom of his heart, he moved his arm forward and when his voice reached its peak, he let go of the golden energy, aiming straight ahead.
An ear-deafening zapping noise rang out as the golden bolt of lightning surrounded by rose-colored light shot from his hand with such force that it pushed dust, soil and moisture to the side.
A flash of gold with rose.
Silence.
Complete and utter silence.
He blinked.
And then he blinked once more.
In the far distance, over across the muddy meadow in the Middle Kingdom’s heartland, a bright flash occurred just a split-moment later, but it was so much more than that.
His bolt of lightning cut a swathe through Nergial’s butchers until it eventually connected with someone, where it detonated into a torrential surge of golden and rose-colored electricity that arced out all around it, engulfing dozens, possibly hundreds of enemy soldiers.
It did so with a power that defied anything he had witnessed thus far.
He felt a soft tingle dance across his skin at the residual energy that permeated the air, much earlier than his ears perceiving the screams of hundreds of people dying at the result of his one action. An action caused by him.
Time appeared to freeze still for a but a moment as both his own and the enemy began to realize what had just happened.
“This, my champion,” Nyanna whispered with a seductive, captivating voice. “This is what feels like to be powerful.”
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Caught in the moment, Arakiel raised his voice, wanting to be the one who broke the lingering static. He screamed it at the top of his lungs as he spurred his horse into action. “GLORY FOR KALANAAR!”
The horse answered first, but his soldiers followed right afterwards, repeating his call.
“Glory for Kalanaar!”
“GLORY for Kalanaar!”
“GLORY FOR KALANAAR!”
Behind him, a mischievous voice chuckled softly.
His mind drew upon Aurora’s red and once again, he noticed soft rose-colored light dancing across his body over towards the hand that grabbed the sigil.
In his right hand, he began to form a small orb of golden fire that fed ever more fire into it without really growing in size.
“To the sky,” Nyanna suggested playfully.
About halfway towards the enemy army, Arakiel hurled the little orb of golden fire which had begun to gleam in a soft rose color to the front and upwards.
The small sphere exploded into a cascading shower of sweeping golden fire that rained down on the enemy force which was still reeling from his earlier strike.
This attack, however, proved to be so much worse for his opponent, for it scattered across a wide area and whatever his golden flames touched, they set alight, be it grass, flesh or steel.
Arakiel halted his horse and beheld the spectacle that he had just created, feeling mightily pleased with his efforts.
His warriors charged forth around him, for he had paved the way once again – just like he had promised back then.
King Nerigal’s army, on the other hand, had been thrown into complete and utter disarray, with hundreds of casualties in the span of several moments while several hundreds more had been turned into living, threshing torches. Corpses on the move, basically.
He felt like a god that had punished the puny insolent unbelievers, those who had not bent their knee at first sight for someone like him was obviously of divine descent.
The gold and rose proved it.
King Nerigal and some of his more hardened commanders tried to rally their soldiers.
Foolish.
Arakiel found it hard to even spare these fools his attention.
Instead, he reached for the invisible hand that had guided him.
“Look,” his immortal guardian warned, however. She lifted his chin up, towards the grey, clouded sky.
At first, he didn’t spot anything, but then he suddenly saw a silver light in the distance – one that approached swiftly, far too swiftly!
An argent streak arced downwards across the sky, like a falling star that crashed right in front of the northern army, swirling up a massive cloud of soil, dust and mud. The impact send a shock wave of dirt and noise that even reached him.
From the corner of his eye, Arakiel saw a thin sigil of rose-colored light appear and dissolve, right after which a strong gust of air blew all the upturned soil to the winds.
Furthermore, it allowed him clear vision on what had just happened.
Over there, right in front of King Nerigal, a man knelt in a small crater. A tall, blonde man clad in casual clothes – a familiar person who had a pair of burning silver wings grow out of his back while the rest of his body flickered in a soft argent flame.
As he silently rose to his feet, he caused a blade of silver fire to form in his hands and without a speech or warning, he lunged forth at Nerigal in a speed that almost escaped Arakiel’s eyes.
With a single strike, Ezekiel ‘decapitated’ the king clad in black steel, only that the blade passed through his opponent… but as it did, it caused him to burst into silver flames and unlike King Cahir, Nerigal seemed less resistant to being suddenly burned up and away.
The tall High King screamed, wailed and ultimately panicked as the flames ate at him from one moment to another while Ezekiel went out to meet any of the few remaining challengers that attempted to strike at him.
They, too, perished in silver fire.
Selene’s Ascendant scoffed notably as he turned his back to the army in disarray, approaching Arakiel who dismounted to meet his friend on even ground.
Around them, the Smokeless Host charged forward while singing praises to the two of them – as they should.
Right at that time, Alanna manifest next to Ezekiel while Nyanna became visible just beside him.
Both seelie had dropped their rose-colored aura, but they still wore their wispy green dresses that left most of their arms and lower legs exposed. Neither had any interest in shoes, but the dirt seemed to never reach their feet.
Arakiel dropped Aurora’s aspect. Ezekiel dropped Selene’s in response, which caused the silver wings to dissolve. When the two met, they shook hands while looking each other in the eyes for a job well done. None spoke, yet.
It almost felt choreographed, and in a way, it might just be.
Nonetheless, it helped him regain at least a smidgen of skepticism after having once again danced to the seelie’s tune.
Alanna’s silver-sprinkled eyes briefly looked him over before she turned her attention towards Nyanna while around them, something akin to a battle started – yet the seelie didn’t seem to care.
“This was much more exciting than watching another dull battle,” Nyanna spoke somewhat elated, with her twin responding right away.
“Agreed… but it is a little bit loud here. I think it is time we wrap things up for good now, right?”
“All the actors are in play, so why not?” Nyanna returned and she took Arakiel’s hand whereas Alanna took Ezekiel’s hand.
Both men looked at each other and then at the seelie, who in turn only had eyes for one another.
“Now, our little mortal knights… we think that is time you witness what you are up against.” Both fae spoke in unison as their outlines began to glow once more.
This time, however, they didn’t start to glow in a soft purple light like all the previous times, but they began to burn in an aura of iridescent opalesque-colored flames which were utterly mesmerizing to behold. It reminded him of a constantly shifting rainbow of sorts.
Nyanna and Alanna each reached inside a hidden pocket of their dress, protruding three green, one blue and one white shard each – three shards of nature, one of water and one of air.
From one moment to another, Arakiel had a terrible feeling that something was about to happen.
“You intend to catch us, conquer us and make us serve you,” the two spoke as they directed Arakiel and Ezekiel to stand shoulder to shoulder, each facing ‘their’ seelie after which they let go of them, instead reaching for each other’s hand.
It made their beautiful fiery aura equalize.
Their lips formed to a smile as the fire around them began to burn a little higher as three sigils of iridescent fire formed in-between them, right in the center.
“We support this notion, as you know. It will keep you on edge, it will drive you onward whenever you feel overwhelmed. It will make you better men for it is the only way you can wash away the humiliation we inflicted upon you.”
The fae smiled knowingly. “Do not – for even the slightest moment – think that we are easy prey…” the twins went on to remind. “Let this here serve as a final reminder of what you two attempt to overcome.”
Their sigil grew in size as the shards in their hands crumbled to dust, one by one.
“We are seelies. Nyanna and Alanna, handmaidens of the Evercourt, loyal servants of the Everqueen whose name you are unfit to speak as of yet,” the sisters went on to speak in unison.
Arakiel and Ezekiel could do nothing but watch as the elemental shards crumbled one by one until nothing but dust remained.
Some of the Hosts’ soldiers had stopped around them, asking whether everything was alright.
“Behold, planeswalkers of Kalanaar and Impyrea. This is a fraction of the power you intend to shackle!” The two cried out, right after which four much smaller iridescent sigils appeared around the big one. The small ones dissolved right away while the three bigger ones had a slight delay.
A spherical shell of iridescent but mostly translucent light formed around the four of them.
“Executor Djinni!” Arakiel heard Aisha shout worriedly from the side right as the sigils dissolved for good.
Arakiel’s gaze followed the voice, towards the jinnum who wore her two scimitars when all of a sudden, hundreds of large flowers sprouted from the ground beneath them all across the battlefield.
They looked almost like the lotus flowers in which they had undergone ‘unification, only that these bloomed in iridescent petals which immediately blossomed, causing some kind of pollen to scatter, right after which a soft gust of air began to spread them all around the flat meadow.
Arakiel watched Aisha’s ruby eyes look up in confusion, right after which they widened as she dropped her weapons to reach for her throat – an action that many others did likewise.
“Stop!” Arakiel cried out right away as he began to grasp what exactly had just happened, but his own movement was once again restricted.
“Exe…” Aisha gasped after which she began to cough bitterly before her muscles cramped up and she, like many, many other soldiers all around them began to asphyxiate because of some kind of poison or toxin.
“No,” the twins stated in a cold, indifferent manner before Alanna went on to explain. “These people are insignificant for your growth, our little mortal knights.”
“There was no need to kill them!” Arakiel exclaimed, cried out; his eyes widened in horror about what the immortals had just done while his mind still tried to catch on.
This was…
He struggled to move from his spot, but it was impossible.
All around him, his army died in the droves and he could do nothing about it!
“Their use had expired… just as your use might expire if you let us down.” Alanna went on in a playful tone that caused Arakiel’s blood to boil.
To think that he had almost fallen for their deceit, their trickery!
This… this casual disregard for mortal life…!
“Mark my words, Nyanna!” Arakiel promised here and then as all around him, his army’s people uttered their final death throes.
Let them stand witness to his claim, his ambition.
What had just been a battlefield full of celebratory splendor had fallen victim to another immortal treachery in the span of a single moment!
“If either of you does anything to Mellia, I will show you no mercy!”
The immortal with the golden-sprinkled eyes giggled heartily, every trace of her body making him more furious. “You’re so honest with your feelings, my little knight! I love it!”
Her hand reached towards his lower body. “I can feel your hatred mounting once again, my little mortal,” the seelie whispered in a tantalizingly outrageous tone while her rose-colored eyes with the little golden sprinkles looked him over so mockingly.
“You seek to correct me once again, don’t you?” The seelie whispered further as her body began to nestle up to his. Her rose fragrance reached right into him, right through him, past all his defenses.
It worked.
Again, it bloody worked and he hated himself for it.
“I will tame you, immortal…!” Arakiel promised in a low, seething voice as Nyanna guided his hand towards her breast which grabbed possessively. “Domesticate you for all the world to see! Your submission will be a testament to mortal power!”
“No,” Nyanna whispered back, having embraced him halfway already. “To your power, Arakiel.”
He hated the seelie Nyanna so much in this moment, because she was right.
There was want, there was desire.
Wounded pride, born from humiliation.
Mastery over Nyanna would let him climb to those heights he had always dreamed off.
Just a few moments ago, this power he felt condensed in his hand…
This was what the Seraphim Covenant should’ve given him – this was the solution that Shemyaza, Ezekiel and he had strove towards, had worked their backsides off for over a decade.
It was so close… but so far away.
She whisked him away.
* * *