Mattiew, Alo’aharu and Kalai stood at the head of the assembled Sea Scourgers, waiting to receive Semiramis’s army.
Strangely, the new enemy had yet to unleash any arrow fire or blasts of sunlight. In fact, Mattiew had staggered his formations in order to lessen the casualties from the Sunkiller’s sorcery.
The triremes were silent as they pulled into port behind Scourger and Sett ships.
A plank slid out from one ship onto a dock, and only one pair of footsteps disembarked.
Semiramis, the Sunkiller, looked down on the Sea Scourgers as she approached land.
“Mattiew Nikoliades…” she muttered. “Champion of the common man. The only non-sorcerer to get as far as you have. The Vagabond Prince. In tow with the Wild Age’s most foolhardy monarch and a lowly slave. It’s never dawned on me how insultingly ridiculous your allies are, dog.”
“Why are you here?” Mattiew asked. “My business isn’t with you.”
“Oh?” Semiramis raised an eyebrow. It was the most expression Mattiew had ever seen from her. “So it’s not my business that you have the Ouroboros of Tiamat safely tucked away in your pockets? Because I think that’s quite relevant to me.”
“You stole the crown?” Alo’aharu asked.
“Long story. Focus.” Mattiew hissed before turning back to Semiramis. “Why should it be relevant to you? You were going to lose, anyway. Your whole pitch was ‘Preserve the status quo but even worse’. Not even a king is that stagnant.”
“Fine.” Semiramis said. “Let us settle this the way it was meant to be settled. Not through a vote. Through a duel. Fight me. Finalist against finalist.”
“She can’t take all three of us.” Kalai whispered. “Don’t do it.”
“Alright.” Mattiew said, to the astonishment of many in his army. “But only if you agree not to use sorcery. The victor walks home with the crown. The loser dies.”
“Your terms are acceptable.” Semiramis drew her twin khopeshes. “I will defeat you on equal grounds and when you die, there will only be despair left in your soul.”
Mattiew dropped into a fighting stance, laying the shaft of his spear on his shield. “May the truer king win.”
Numbers could do well with taking down a single sorcerer. But this sorcerer had numbers as well. All of the Scourgers would be occupied with the Sunkiller’s armies, and Semiramis would be free on the battlefield to cut down swathes of his men.
If he could do this without getting armies involved...or at least whittle away at her strength, they could stave off the disadvantage they were at.
Mattiew drew in a breath, centering himself and calming his heart. He breathed out, his fear and weakness leaving with the wind.
Just breathe.
Semiramis attacked first. Her blades sparked off the bronze surface of Mattiew’s shield. He was quick to weave around her and thrust out his spear. She parried and responded. He ducked and struck with the blunt end of his weapon.
He wasn’t afraid anymore. After all, what more did he have to lose? And without the fear, the world finally felt truthful. Every movement was clear.
Though she was his enemy, Mattiew and Semiramis danced. They stepped as leaps, their rhythm marked by the clashing of blades.
No, too many people compare battle to dance.
This...this was more like a debate.
Mattiew thrust with his lance. Semiramis caught it between the hooks of her khopeshes. Mattiew kicked up, freeing his weapon, and swung it around to sweep out her legs. She avoided it by lunging at him with an upward swing.
Mattiew felt the sheen of bronze blades scrape the skin off his nose before flinging the blunt end of his spear at the back of the Sunkiller’s head.
He was her equal. Each shift in momentum was balanced, with a shift in the other direction.
Mattiew matched Semiramis for every move she made, no matter how fast she was. Every argument lobbed by a flurry of strikes with her blades was countered by a rebuttal of spear techniques.
Semiramis’s elegant technique of quickly flashing blades clashed with Mattiew’s self-taught and direct method of attack. But both were quick and brutal.
It was making her furious. Though the signs were subtle, he watched as the creases in her forehead became more severe with each change in power over the duel.
The combat went slow enough for him to dissect each action and reaction. Yet fast enough to put pressure on every part of his body.
He launched his spear at her, only to have it caught inches from her side. He tried to keep the momentum on his side.
Mattiew’s hand reached towards his waist and threw two hatchets at her. After that, a knife, advancing with every projectile. He followed it up with four arrows from his bow. Predictably, none of them touched her as she wove around them like a serpent.
Mattiew drew the sickle sword from his hip and struck.
The splatter of a few drops of blood against stone echoed throughout the harbor.
Both combatants froze.
The very tip of Mattiew’s blade dripped with blood. Blood drawn from a small gash on Semiramis’s face.
The Sunkiller lifted a quivering hand to her face and looked at her fingers, now coated in crimson.
“You…” Semiramis muttered. “You think this drop of blood is an achievement, lowly ape?”
Mattiew socked her in the nose and placed the edge of his blade against Semiramis’s throat.
Semiramis sniffled through a newly bloodied nose. “Do you think you’ve won because of this? I...I could kill you in a heartbeat. Before you get the chance to slit my throat.”
“Could you?” Mattiew asked. It was a genuine question.
Semiramis struck Mattiew in the chest with her open palm, forcing him back.
Then he felt mana. And afterwards, the unbearable heat.
“Mattiew!”
Sunlight consumed the world.
Except for one shadow. One giant silhouette that blocked the rays of Semiramis’s deadly magic from touching Mattiew.
The light faded, and Mattiew’s eyes widened in horror.
“Kalai…” He gasped.
Her armor blazed with a bright yellow glow, as her crimson tunic practically evaporated into ash. Her skin was scarred beyond recognition. But the Queen of Conquerors still stood tall.
Semiramis screamed. “Soldiers! Kill these filthy mongrels!”
“Why?” Mattiew exclaimed.
Kalai turned to look at him, stoically breathing her way through what Mattiew could only imagine was the most excruciating pain one could feel.
“Are you stupid?” Kalai asked, her voice rasping, though she was quickly healing. “Your job isn’t done here. Mine is finished. Let me handle this.”
Mattiew furrowed his brow. “Kalai...What are you-”
“As someone who was once a monarch, Mattiew, I can attest to this.” Kalai said. “You are a truer king than any who have lived in a millennium. As of now, I am but your retainer.”
“Wait-”
“It is a retainer’s duty to serve her king.” Kalai muttered.
“Kalai, what are you doing?” Alo’aharu asked.
“Paving the way for you two…I’ll see you on the other side.”
“But you-” the elemental started.
“It is my choice.” Kalai said. “You’ve become a monument to greatness and courage, Alo’aharu. Trust yourself to make the right decision when the time comes. And trust me to make the right decision when my time comes.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Alo’aharu clearly wanted to say more, but nodded.
“Mattiew. It is your duty as a king to inspire. And as your retainer, my task is to see your dream fulfilled.” Kalai said. “You cannot defeat Semiramis like this. So live, Mattiew. Live and inspire others.”
Mattiew felt his chest ache as realization dawned on him. She didn’t need to say it. He knew that as a mere man, he couldn’t hope to defeat the Sunkiller. And Kalai...well, she could only try her best.
Mattiew nodded as something welled up in his eyes.
“Now then…” Kalai muttered. “Let my heart quiver once more on this glorious campaign…”
Winds whipped all throughout the harbor as mana in quantities Mattiew had never seen gathered around Kalai.
“Sunkiller! Allow me to ask you one question for the sake of my students!” Kalai said.
“What?” Semiramis growled.
“Does a king stand alone?” Kalai asked.
Semiramis scoffed. “A king is the ultimate authority of a higher knowing than his subjects.”
Kalai laughed. “You would make a terrible teacher, Sunkiller!”
Another light flooded the world. But this time, it was blazing Tsengol scarlet.
***
It was only a matter of time.
The Callione sorcerers had been floundering as Khemti’s soldiers pushed into the middle of the city and Alo’aharu’s rebel slaves pushed back. They scattered and fled under the weight of this hammer and anvil.
So it was only a matter of time before Andar Callione showed himself.
Khemti met the Lord of the House’s gaze as he hobbled out onto the battlefield. The old man walked through the chaos on his cane like all was calm. And he was headed straight towards Khemti.
“Tell me, Lord Sett, do you know what the human instinct values most?” Andar asked, as Khemti raised his axe in a defensive stance. “Someone to hate. It is only through the hatred of a shared enemy that humans can unite. So the fact that you’ve joined up with Nikoliades...Well, that must mean you hate me a good deal.”
Khemti glared at Andar. “You’re wrong. The simple fact is that the good people of this world refuse to be crushed under your heel any longer. Sorcerer or commoner. Lord or bandit. We see your evil. And we’re going to snuff it out.”
“Good.” Andar grinned. “Think more about how you want me gone. As I tear you limb from-”
The brick road underneath Andar crumbled, collapsing into a hole that led to the city sewers.
Khemti blinked.
“Sett!”
His gaze snapped up to the woman calling his name.
Adriana Nikoliades pushed through the rebels, who seemed confused about what to do with her. She’d somehow found a way out of the keep. But her skin had a subtle scaly texture to it. Her eyes were emeralds now.
Khemti couldn’t help but raise his guard slightly.
“Sett!” Adriana called. “Where’s my husband?”
“Back on the dock.” Khemti replied. “He’s handling Semiramis with Kalai’s help.”
Adriana came to a stop next to him. “Shit...Listen, my father’s not a normal sorcerer any more. He’s more than even the other Calliones. I don’t know the extent of his power. But whatever you do, don’t hate him. It’ll only strengthen him.”
Khemti nodded just before the street exploded.
Andar Callione flew out of the sewer. He hovered in the air, suspended by some kind of power. Something beyond sorcery. There was no mana involved.
He was remarkably youthful. Where once, the decrepit man had to be on the cusp of eighty, he now had the body of a fit man in his forties.
Andar chuckled. “My daughter...still rebelling like a hot-headed child. I thought you’d given this up. Especially after I shared the gift of the Scaled One’s blood with you. After I invited you back into the family.”
Adriana glared at him. “I’m not so daft as to take your word for it when you say things like ‘I care about you’. You didn’t care how I felt. You just wanted me alive. In fact, you probably just wanted it to keep Mother happy.”
Andar gritted his teeth. “You know nothing of who I am, daughter. But you know what? You’re right. It was foolish of me to remain attached to you. You and Sett will be apt opponents to test the bounds of my new power.”
Callione’s skin tightened. Where once he looked forty, he now looked twenty. His fair complexion morphed into a coat of dark greenish gold scales. His eyes glowed emerald as two ivory horns sprouted from his head.
He was looking more like a draconic Nightborn than human.
“The Scaled One’s power is mine!” Andar’s roar had to have come from an animal’s gullet. As he screamed, Khemti could see rows of sharpened fangs in his mouth. “I am a god among men! With time, I will be a god among gods! Either you will stop resisting me or you will die with the rest!”
Khemti blinked. Then the street was covered in blood.
Khemti’s eyes widened as the bodies of at least ten of his soldiers were torn apart in an instant. He didn’t see what happened. Only traces of mana remained as evidence.
His body froze, unable to process the split-second massacre that had taken place before him. His vision swayed at the sight of it.
“His Curse of Spite…” Adriana muttered. “It’s...it has to have been empowered. But...I don’t know what it does.”
Khemti took a step forward, reaching towards the severed head of one of his dear friends.
Adriana yanked him back. “Sett! Sett! Snap out of it!”
“They just...they just...died.” Khemti gasped.
“And so will we. We need to run!”
***
Kalai took a moment to savor the smell of desert wind.
“You know, Sunkiller.” Kalai called out before summoning her army. “If we could impart your sorcery onto my horde, we’d create the most powerful army to ever grace this world.”
Semiramis scoffed. “And what of it?”
“If you repent now, we could be allies!”
“I certainly hope that was amusing to your past enemies.”
“Oh, have a sense of humor!” Kalai sighed. She raised one of her cleavers. “From Tsengol’s steppes and ancient lores, to Mekhet dunes and Sasom’s shores! Rally to me, my endless hordes! Today, we once again ride to war!”
They rose from the sands.
Her footmen and archers. Her riders and sorcerers. All draped in blood crimson, all bearing her black banner. All standing proud in glinting bronze. Baila trotted up to the Queen and pressed her snout into her rider.
“Let’s have ourselves a grand adventure, girl.”
Kalai mounted Baila and turned to her men.
“Our opponent is the Sunkiller!” Kalai shouted. “The living embodiment of the Scaled One, who threatens our freedom! Let us show his puppet the strength of our convictions! Our path of conquest!”
“By honor, by glory, by conquest!” Her men chanted with fury and fire, ever-present like the harsh winds in the middle of a sandstorm.
Only Semiramis had seen her one ability before. Kalai would sorely miss the look of shock on her enemy’s face.
Kalai opened her mouth and bellowed a war cry that alone drowned out her armies before kicking Baila’s sides, spurring the mare into a gallop towards the Sunkiller’s forces.
Her conviction didn’t waver as Semiramis unleashed twin blasts of light that tore through vast swathes of her ranks.
Her riders crashed into the enemy line, scattering them.
Semiramis retreated into the sky. Her sorcery hadn’t yet recharged its full strength. Even so, Kalai was embarrassed by the Sunkiller’s cowardice.
Her armies slaughtered the Sunkiller’s. Her archers pinned them down while her cavalry never allowed them to reorganize. Her mounted archers rode in a wide circle around them, keeping them from running away with a rain of arrows.
Dust and sand swirled around the battle, but Kalai kept her eyes on the Sunkiller.
Semiramis flew as far as she could and landed away from the battle. It was time. Kalai rallied her forces with a Tsengol command and led her people in charging the Sunkiller.
The wind picked up. The sky darkened.
Semiramis levitated, not flying away, but hovering with power as her dark skin glowed brilliant gold.
Wisps of fire and sunlight swirled in her eyes and hands, drifting off her body.
Kalai kept charging.
The energy picked up raw ambient mana with it as it coalesced behind the Sunkiller. A hole of abyssal darkness formed where the light collapsed in on itself.
“Did you not learn your lesson in death?” Semiramis asked. “When the Master of the Cosmos calls, all children must wake from their dreams.”
As the portal to the void grew in size, cracks rippled the Gershut desert.
“Watch as I turn your visions to dust. Be grateful that you are worthy to behold my greatest power, Queen of Conquerors.” Semiramis’s voice boomed with power. “Awaken, Dark Star! Event Horizon!”
The dark star pulsed with a radiant wave of golden light, sending cracks throughout Kalai’s world like shattered glass.
The greatest power the heavens could offer. A void so pitch and so empty that not even light can escape it.
In a fraction of a second, everything constructed by Kalai’s sorcery except her steed was sucked into the abyss, leaving nothing but blackness.
The ocean returned as Baila slowed to a stop.
Her steed stood atop the waves while Semiramis hovered above them. She didn’t ask why or look back.
“Come, Baila.” Kalai patted her mare’s neck. “Our job isn’t done yet.”
She snapped the reins, resuming her charge.
It was as though she rode atop the seas that Kalai had always dreamed of reaching in life. But even here, at the end of her life’s goal, further glory laid beyond the horizon.
She had to challenge because it was unattainable, not despite it.
Her heart beat with conquest, and its song would be heard. For her men, for her students, for those who watched behind her.
Kalai raged and screamed, making up for the lack of her hordes with her own fury.
Semiramis fired a column of white light at her. She knocked it away with the flat of her cleaver blade.
Another ate through Baila’s legs, causing her to collapse. Kalai hit the ocean’s surface but never sank. She stood and kept running, wielding both her blades.
She parried and deflected any sorcery that came her way.
She never stopped screaming.
It was a scream of conviction. Of defiance. Against death and destiny. A rage that outlasted any creature of the night. A madness that embodied all of human frustration. From the days of the Wild Age to the struggles of the modern commoner, Kalai’s rage heard each of them.
Semiramis’s light struck through Kalai’s ribs, leaving a burned hole. She kept charging.
Be it against sorcerers, gods, or beings above gods, be it against the entire universe, humanity would stand firm. Humanity would never stop moving. So long as they raged.
A volley of blasts hailed Kalai, but no amount of fire and light could outshine her determination to rush onward. Her goal was getting close.
She lifted her blade over her head.
So long as they acted with love and trust in their fellow man, not even the Scaled One could stop them.
She swung.
Kalai’s blade stopped short of Semiramis.
Her chest had a searing hole in it, plugged up by the Sunkiller’s fist, radiating with energy.
“Behold, Queen of Conquerors, the futility of your frustration.” Semiramis muttered. “You are but a-”
Kalai dropped her sword.
The heavy blade sank deep into Semiramis’s shoulder. The Sunkiller looked at the sword cleaving her open in disbelief.
Kalai grinned. “If it makes you feel any better...this was a great deal of fun.”
Her form was unraveling. She had no mana left to spare.
As much as she hated it, it was time for the Queen of Conquerors to return home and await the next glorious campaign.