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Sacrifice

Adriana had nothing but time.

All she could do was lament.

She didn’t even know if Mattiew was alright after the Trial of Conviction. The despair that must’ve been weighing on him...could he bear it?

Even if he win the crown and become the first ordinary man in the history of the Eight Empires to complete the Bellirex, he’d just be walking straight into a trap trying to free her.

And what else was Adriana to do but struggle through her fever sweats?

She would become an immortal, chained to her family forever. Whatever threat the Scaled One posed, she would survive it. But for what?

It was equally pointless to rebel. She couldn’t do anything, her body on the verge of shutting down. A feeling she was slowly growing accustomed to.

“Daughter.”

Adriana craned her neck to look at Andar, who stood in the doorway to her childhood bedroom, with Phygius and her mother in tow.

“It’s time.” Andar said.

Reina opened the golden display of her sorcery. Adriana felt a thousand pounds of weight lift off her. She didn’t waste the opportunity and sprang out of bed, drawing in mana. Even after all the destruction her impatience had wrought, she still had to fight.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Adriana staggered as a mind-numbing beat echoed in her ears. She lost control of her limbs and collapsed to the floor, her mind unable to detach itself from the constant thumping.

“Thank you, Phygius.” Andar sighed. “Though I’m disappointed you had to subdue her at all.”

“She’ll learn in time, uncle.” Phygius said.

Against her will, Adriana’s arms pushed her to her feet as her legs forced her to calmly follow her family out of her room and up the stairs of the Callione keep.

Her mind screamed and wailed against the confines of Phygius’s sorcery, but she couldn’t wrest control away from the endless noise.

When they emerged at the top of the tallest tower, Adriana’s heart froze. Or at least, it would’ve if she had any control of her body.

Calliones stood atop every tower in the keep, draped in black cloaks.

Every cousin, aunt, or distant relative stood below them. At the tallest tower, Phygius’s family stood with Adriana’s.

Her mother opened her display and adjusted some symbols. Adriana felt the curse infect her body once again, forcing her to collapse to her knees. Only then did Phygius release her mind.

“What is this?” Adriana demanded hoarsely.

Adriana only got her symptoms worsened in response.

Andar produced the Jewel of Ascendancy from his sleeve and held it up to the sun, four or five fists above the seascape to the west.

“Phygius, if you would.” Andar said. “We are ready to begin.”

Phygius dipped his fingers in some kind of green paste before using his thumbs to make some kind of symmetrical marking on Adriana’s forehead.

She noticed that Phygius, along with every other Callione, had donned the same symbol. It looked like a small pair of horns, twisting into an upward stab.

The sun turned black. The sky darkened with an eclipse as its only light source became a black void with a halo of light around its pitch center.

Andar was handed some kind of golden crown by Reina. It was fashioned to resemble those horn markings stacked on top of one another, like a Wild Age headdress.

Andar slotted the platinum gem between the two upright ends of the top set of horns and slowly, reverently donned the crown.

Adriana winced as thin geometric lines shot out from the crown and covered the entirety of Andar’s body in a lattice network of shifting gold and silver.

Andar raised his hands to the sky and spoke.

“Mind ripper.” Her father spoke with a thousand voices, each simultaneously speaking a billion tongues unheard of by any human. His words were both understandable and incomprehensible. “Death bringer. He who bore witness to the first rays of the first sun as they graced the first world. And he who shall witness it set for the last time on the last planet, at the end of time. We beseech thee. Hear the prayers of House Callione.”

Adriana wanted to protest, but a swirling gyre of dark clouds captivated her attention as it came to occupy a clear sky from nothing.

Andar knelt as the clouds covered Rosalia in a blanket of darkness. Flashes of lightning accompanied echoing thunder as the wind picked up. But the eclipsed sun was still clear, despite the storm.

“Progenitor of Progenitors. Ouroboros of Eternity. Accept our offerings.” Andar continued as all the other Calliones took a knee. “Your Egg of Rebirth, so that you may foster our Ascension. The Essence of a God, from which to perform your miracle. And a sacrifice dear to us.”

Adriana swore she saw the likeness of a dragon appear within the roiling clouds, with horns exactly like the crown Andar wore and piercing emerald eyes that could have just as well been flashes of lightning. Bat wings took form among the storm before vanishing, as did a serpentine tail and a maw full of fangs. Its horns surrounded the eclipse as though it were part of the image.

WHAT...DO YOU...OFFER…?

It was the cosmo itself speaking to them. Unheard and thousands of miles away, but a whisper in her ear and a scream directly in her head all the same.

“Our home.” Andar said. “Rosalia. The place which gave us our power, that which is most precious to us. All the souls within it, we now offer to you.”

Adriana’s eyes widened. Sacrifice...the entire city? All its souls? Her father was going to give away the lives of countless millions to this...storm. This deity.

YOUR...DESIRE…

“Protection. And a chance to serve at your behest.” Andar said. “Our family is most sacred to us. We wish to preserve it through your inevitable victory.”

A bell toll rumbled throughout Rosalia like thunder, the echoing ring of bronze against bronze. Adriana’s insides vibrated with the passing of the sound.

Who’d rung it? Why?

Another toll sounded throughout the city. And another.

Why in Irkalla was that bell tolling?

Adriana mustered up all the strength she had and pulled herself to the edge of the tower

She looked out of the parapets and furrowed her brow at the sight on the horizon.

Just past Rosalia’s harbor, where the sea met the darkened sky, a hundred triremes came into view.

Their sales bore the insignia of the Sea Scourgers.

Mattiew.

But others bore the coat of arms of House Sett.

Why had the Scourgers and Khemti’s people come with? Now that she thought about it, why hadn’t the Scourgers abandoned him? Surely, they would’ve known by this point where he was taking that crown. That was part of her father’s plan, no?

Of course. Mattiew is sticking to his promise to them.

They hadn’t come to give Andar the crown. They were an invading force.

The city was under attack.

A weight lifted off Adriana’s chest, taking every ounce of tension in her body with it. Her eyes widened in euphoria and excitement as the ships drew closer to Rosalia. Goosebumps rose on every inch of her skin as her chest seemed to expand with awe.

A tear of happiness even escaped her eyes. What was she talking about with Mattiew’s despair? She knew better.

Her blissful awe was sorely cut short as she realized that despite not having given up, Mattiew had no clue that he would wage war against her entire clan. An army of sorcerers. An army of immortal sorcerers.

She had to warn him. No one else could.

She had to get down there. No matter what. And it had to be her. They needed to see each other. No middle men. No trying to get around her sickness. No skipping to the results.

But she had to wait for the right moment. To go now would be just as rash and stupid as the choices that had gotten her here.

I SHALL GRANT WHAT YOU ASK TO YOU, ANDAR CALLIONE. FOR THE REST, I WILL GIVE YOU THE POWER TO BRING ME MY SOULS.

The Calliones let out a collective scream.

***

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“ALRIGHT, YOU SEA DOGS!” Mattiew roared over the storm from the helm of the Peacemaker, projecting his voice to every other ship in their armada and above the thundering ocean itself. “On that shore is Andar Callione, the ugliest, richest, most sadistic son of a bitch you’ve ever met!

“When we hit the bay, we hit them hard! From there, we’ll secure the harbor and make way for our reinforcements from House Sett! Their heavier troops will lead the charge inland, where we can then secure the city sectors and lay siege to the Callione Keep, understand?”

“Aye, captain!” The Scourgers shouted in unison.

“I don’t know what kinda sorcery they’re using to make this storm, but be ready for anything!” Mattiew declared. “Who are we?”

“Bane of the kings! Plague of the empires! Blight of the land and sky!” His crewmates pounded their weapons against the deck as they chanted. “Scourge of the Central Sea!”

Mattiew turned to face Rosalia. “Scourgers! Raise the black flags! Today, we make history!”

The Sea Scourgers roared and cheered with renewed vigor as the Bay of Rosalia was fast approaching.

The walls and fortifications built up on the harbor were the only true fortifications in the city, since no cities within the empires ever suffered land attacks. But the Sea Scourgers were an army now.

The only things that stopped boats from getting into the bay were a small naval blockade of Callione ships and an iron chain that closed off the gap between the defensive towers.

Khemti’s ships, marked by ivory white sails, swung around the flanks as Scourger ships, marked with black sails, formed up in the center. Khemti’s ships hailed the naval blockade in wave after wave of flaming arrows and javelins. Some even smashed their bows into the hulls of the enemy.

“Ready the ballistae!” Mattiew ordered.

The Scourger ships relayed the order and started loading the improvised mounted artillery on their ships.

Once they were close enough to the chain, Mattiew gave the order to fire.

Ballista bolts loosed with thick twangs, soaring towards one side of the iron chain that was mounted on the towers. The bolts chipped away at the stone until the chain links crumbled away from their fastenings, falling beneath the ocean.

Archers then took up their bows and peppered the towers with suppressing fire before the defenders could attempt to interfere with their landing.

“Into the sand!” Mattiew shouted.

The two rows of oarsmen on the Peacemaker doubled their efforts in the bay’s shallow waters, pushing the vessel past the docks and onto the sands.

“Move, move, move!”

Mattiew and his Scourgers abandoned their ship as Callione guardsmen poured out from the stairs and ramps that led to the city.

The Calliones had an easy time picking off Mattiew’s forces as they first landed. But things changed as they organized. The Scourgers formed a shieldwall of spearmen, allowing the archers to fire upon the still unorganized Calliones. This gave way for the other Scourger ships to land and join in the fight.

“Scourgers! Advance!” Mattiew ordered.

The shieldwall pushed forward until they met the Calliones halfway across the harbor. They pushed again, forcing the Calliones back until the guardsmen managed to hold up a proper line.

While the first few ships of warriors held back the enemy, Mattiew directed the rest of the Scourgers to take the towers along the bay and secure the harbor.

“Legions of House Callione!”

Mattiew’s gaze shot up to a man clad in luxurious linens and expensive armor, bearing the crest of House Callione standing atop a building.

“Form a shield wall and wedge! Then charge those uncouth dogs!” Black and crimson marked a relative of the Callione family. But...something was off. His eyes were emerald green. His skin glinted as if it were made of scales.

“Leave the sorcerer to me. Sedis, keep the plan on track.” Mattiew said.

“Aye, Captain.” Sedis nodded.

Mattiew stuck his spear in the sand and fired an arrow at the sorcerer.

The man glanced down at Mattiew as he casually leaned out of the way of the arrow. “You must be Mattiew Nikoliades. I am Phygius Callione. I will be the one to end your life.”

Phygius...The most politically powerful cousin in Adriana’s family. Adriana had always had a bit of apprehension towards him, but for what?

Mattiew stowed his bow and grabbed his spear again, proffering it in challenge to Phygius. “I’d like to see you try.”

“The blood of the Scaled One runs through my veins. You’ll regret your presumption.” Phygius said.

Mattiew grabbed a flask off his hip and downed the vile contents, revealing golden strands of ambient mana to him. Phygius was preparing his sorcery.

“Behold, vagabonds. My curse of echoes.”

Mattiew braced himself for some kind of sound based attack.

Scourgers who were part of the shieldwall, without warning, turned and attacked their brothers and sisters in arms.

Before Mattiew could react, his left arm drew a knife from his belt and attempted to slit his own throat. He held his arm back with his right.

What in Irkalla was this? What was happening?

Mattiew tried to theorize, but his mind was so full...with nothing.

Just that sound.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Like a steady heartbeat, an endless, mind numbing noise wormed its way into Mattiew’s ears. The sound took up space in his mind, clouding his thoughts. His right hand almost let go of his still struggling and murderous left.

Without a clear mind, all Mattiew could manage was struggling against his own hand.

***

Khemti Sett arrived on the docks of Rosalia, not to the secured harbor the Scourgers promised him. Rather, the shoreline was in chaos.

The only thing that had returned to order was the abrupt storm that had shrunk to the size of a small black sphere in the sky, though the sun had turned an ominous black with an eclipse.

From a commoner’s perspective, it looked like Mattiew’s soldiers had turned on him. But Khemti was well aware of Phygius Callione and the danger he posed.

“Senna.” Khemti said.

His naga Kingmaker glanced up.

“Keep our soldiers aboard their ships for the time being.” Khemti said. “I need to help Nikoliades kill a sorcerer.”

“As you wish…” Senna hissed before relaying the command to his other boats.

Khemti disembarked from his trireme and headed towards the battle ensuing in the harbor. He leapt off the dock and onto the sand, spying Phygius standing atop a building like a perch.

Khemti inhaled, drawing mana into his body, and willed the sand beneath him to launch a volley of projectiles at the Callione sorcerer.

The attack only got Phygius’s attention, doing no actual damage.

Then he heard the noise. Khemti’s balance faltered ever so slightly as rapid thumping hammered away in his ears. Phygius’s Curse of Echoes…

Khemti dedicated all his resolve to staying focused as the noise tried to numb his mind.

Phygius had rarely been seen in the arena, but those who accompanied him on his expeditions reported all information that was known about Phygius’s sorcery. His fame was primarily why the Calliones never had him champion them in the Bellirex.

The Curse of Echoes turned Phygius’s heartbeat into a constant noise that was broadcasted into nearby minds telepathically. Upon filling the victims’ heads with nothing but the noise, they would lose subconscious control of their bodies, allowing Phygius to puppeteer them.

The key to resisting the ability was sheer willpower. Phygius was still a great warrior.

Phygius leapt from his perch and calmly approached Khemti. That was when he noticed. Emerald eyes. Apprehension shot up Khemti’s spine.

“What is House Sett’s heir doing aiding these filthy animals?” Phygius asked.

Khemti allowed sand to climb up his body, forming a shell of armor around him. “I’m leveling the playing field. Stop fighting for Callione and I won’t hurt you.”

Phygius grinned. “I watched the Trial of Evolution, you know. I know that your naïve sense of honor will let me walk right onto this beach and still get a fair contest of iron.”

Phygius drew a straight sword from his hip and stepped off the docks, onto the beach.

Khemti glared at Phygius. One thought was all it took for a spike made of sand to erupt from the ground and pierce a chink in the Callione sorcerer’s armor.

Phygius leapt away, clutching his now wounded shoulder.

“Honor is a luxury that I can no longer afford. Especially with those who I know will never act honorably. All I have now is resolve. Let’s watch you try to take advantage of that.”

Phygius gritted his teeth, willing many of Mattiew’s Scourgers to attack Khemti.

Khemti didn’t hesitate to bind their limbs with sand. He grasped control over as much sand as he could and lifted himself off the ground, landing directly in the way of Phygius’s escape. The sand on his arm crystalized into a glass blade.

And then Phygius vanished.

Stunned, Khemti’s senses were slow to come back to him. But he noticed a few things. His ears rang as if an elephant had trumpeted right next to him. The ambient mana was sucked dry.

Khemti noticed that several Callione guardsmen were closing in on him. He caused the sand beneath him to erupt into a field of blades, impaling the enemies that threatened him.

He caught sight of Phygius as the sorcerer was attempting to run away.

Khemti rushed towards him on a wave of sand and readied to crush the sorcerer with a hail of glass shards, but once again, Phygius vanished.

What was happening?

Khemti was sprawled on the ground, but didn’t remember falling. His eardrums were numb and ringing again.

Phygius must’ve been using some kind of sound. But instead of manipulating a body, this sound just filled the head of its target, stunning them for a moment.

He spotted Phygius running along the length of the harbor, but tripped the sorcerer with a tendril of sand. Khemti was stopped in his tracks as an ear-splitting whine appeared in his head, but he expected the attack and gritted his teeth while sheer conviction pulled him through the attack.

Khemti sliced at the sorcerer, but his enemy parried the glass blade on his hand before the pommel of Phygius’s sword cracked into Khemti’s head, sending waves of vertigo through his vision. As Khemti stumbled, Phygius attempted to blank his mind again.

Khemti grabbed Phygius, pushing the both of them over as he fought through the sonic attack. However, while Khemti’s focus was devoted to that, Phygius wrenched his arm behind him and pinned Khemti against the ground.

“You foolish boy. I am no longer some mere man you can overpower.” Phygius grunted as the cold metal of his blade pressed against Khemti’s throat. “No blade is sharp enough. No impact is great enough to harm me. I have the blood of a God among gods in my veins!”

Khemti sent mana spiraling through a thin line of sand between him and the shoreline. Twenty odd mirrors erupted from the ground, all angled to redirect the light of the sun. Despite the eclipse, the halo around the void gave off light just as intense.

Phygius screamed. Khemti could feel the heat as the Callione sorcerer spontaneously combusted from the magnified sun beams. Phygius scrambled off him.

Khemti stood and cracked his neck as Callione writhed, screaming in agony. As he burned, a pair of grotesque bat wings made of torn canvas erupted from his back as his features became more draconic.

Not knowing what to think, a blade formed on Khemti’s hand. It wasn’t glass. It was obsidian, sharper than anything a smith could forge. And he didn’t give Phygius another moment of suffering before it ran through the sorcerer’s throat.

Phygius’s body went limp as Khemti let the blade dissolve back into sand.

Khemti stared at the partially draconic corpse, unsure how to feel. His lack of mercy appalled some small part of him. Another part knew it was arrogant to expect himself to spare an enemy who would cause far more bloodshed than Khemti had committed.

“Ancient fuckin’ kings…”

Khemti glanced up at Mattiew, who was clutching his left arm.

“Good work.” Mattiew said. “I think they might have already set their plans in motion. But with him out of the way, the harbor’s ours.”

“I’ll tell my people to disembark.” Khemti said.

“Captain!”

Both Khemti and Mattiew looked over at one of Mattiew’s men as he ran towards them.

“Captain! There’s trouble!”

“Where?” Mattiew asked.

The Scourger pointed ahead at the city beyond the harbor.

Khemti narrowed his eyes, squinting through the darkness. How had they not seen it before?

People screamed. Buildings burned. Dragons, just like Phygius, descended from the darkened sky to slaughter Rosalia’s citizens. Even the guards were dispersing.

With each man, woman, and child whose throat was ripped out by the humanoid beasts wearing Callione colors, a small white light flew from the body to be absorbed into the sun-sized void that hung in the sky above the city.

“What in Irkalla has Callione unleashed?” Mattiew muttered.