Revin’s self-righteousness evaporated. The ceratops charged in, smashing into the ranks of automatons as they opened fire, the strange low whistling sound echoing through his mind. Revin’s brain lit up with pain and anguish as their bones broke, their flesh pierced by bullets, their bodies impaled by swords and spears. Life leaking away with their blood.

His mind exploded in a rush of agony. A massive headache filled every corner of his brain, he fell to his knees, blinded, hardly able to think. After a few moments swaying on the floor, his mind finally calmed, and he gasped with a dark realization.

He’d lost his connection to all his saurians.

And Jebuthar was laughing.

“Now,” Jebuthar said, “You’ve used saurians for violence, without any concern for their welfare. Used them for your own cause.”

Jebuthar stepped closer to Revin.

“We’re the same, now,” Jebuthar said.

“No!” Revin said, trembling.

Jebuthar swung his blade down toward Revin’s head. Revin barely performed a clumsy block and backed up, falling on his back hard. He looked up at Jebuthar.

“Don’t you want to stop me?” Jebuthar said, raising his blade.

Revin’s eyes watered, his hands shaking.

“Don’t you think your cause is holier than mine? Isn’t that what you’ve said?”

Revin managed some clumsy blocks, but he could tell Jebuthar wasn’t really trying.

“I offered you many chances to forget this foolish mission and join me on my holy crusade, but you elected to ignore Father God’s will.”

I don’t even know his will anymore…

Jebuthar hit Revin’s sword arm with the flat of his blade again. Revin gasped, entire arm going buzzingly numb. He dropped his sword.

“Pick it up,” Jebuthar said bitterly, kicking the blade to Revin, “If God is on your side, then kill me .”

Revin, held his throbbing arm, not moving.

Jebuthar held his own blade over Revin’s head. “You can’t kill me. You’re a broken tool. Now, you will be discarded. Have comfort in the fact that your death will help save the world.”

Revin looked up at Jebuthar, the man’s mouth was set into an angry frown, but slowly, it became sadder. Regretful.

“I didn’t want to do this,” he said in a softer voice, “But I do what I must for the God I serve.”

Then, as if he had seen a ghost, Jebuthar’s eyes widened, and he jerked his head to the left. The right side of Jebuthar’s head gave off a misty puff of blood and there was a loud bang of gunfire.

Jebuthar fell to the ground, his eyes closed, his blade clattering to the floor.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Run!” a voice yelled. Kaiato and several Ateyan soldiers stood in an open doorway. Revin’s heart sank as he expected the automatons to swarm the Koyejian, but they didn’t. They stood perfectly still, staring blankly forward.

There were grunts behind him. Revin turned to see Omrai and the others clumsily getting back to their feet, running towards Kaiato. Revin slowly stood and looked at Jebuthar. The bullet had only grazed the side of his head, cutting a line into the mask and leaving a dripping wound. He still breathed.

Revin leaned down and picked up his father’s sword.

He looked down at Jebuthar, then at the automatons, just to be sure. They didn’t move as the soldiers pushed through them. Why? Why wasn’t Narazoth moving them in to save his Lord?

He looked at his father’s sword. He could do this. He could kill Jebuthar.

Could he?

A memory hit. Revin and blackfire sat on a hill, overlooking a flock of ravens flying through a whitewashed sky over a snowy forest. It was cold, but it was beautiful. His best friend, his companion of many years.

Hatred swelled within him. Revin glared down, his knuckles turning white around the sword’s hilt.

He lifted his blade over his head.

“Do it!” Omrai shouted from behind Revin.

Jebuthar stirred and grunted.

The automatons swarmed Revin. But they didn’t attack. They pushed and shoved him and the others away, forming an ever-thickening circle around Jebuthar. They seemed… timid. Their weapons dropped on the floor.

Revin and Omrai glared at them. Omrai approached, but more automatons moved in the way. He struck, breaking some of them, but more moved into their place. They didn’t attack, only stood as obstacles.

“Come on!” Kaiato shouted, “You can’t kill him today!”

“He’s right,” the monk said, touching Revin’s and Omrai’s shoulders, “we need to live. He will wake soon.”

With a breath of reluctance, they followed Kaiato into the hallway.

Revin looked back. One group of automatons came alert, retrieving weapons from the floor. His heart sank, tears filled his eyes. He didn’t want to run again.

“They’re waking up!” he shouted.

They ran.

✦✦✦

Revin wondered if his knee was ruined. He half-ran half hopped, supported by Omrai and another soldier. The agony never ended. The pain nearly drove him unconscious. His mind ran in circles.

Few automatons stood in their path, but the sound of thundering metal feet echoed in the halls behind them. Most of the automatons must have been in the room, turning Jebuthar’s trap into their opportunity for escape. Omrai and his men destroyed any automatons in front of them. Revin had given Omrai his blade, which was strong enough to cut automaton armor. Omrai broke automaton limbs and weapons left and right.

Revin felt a mixture of rage and grief. In each pair of blue eyes, he saw the eyes of Avey; the little stego he’d left behind. Each automaton was a saurian whose mind had been enslaved. Whose freedom had been taken away.

Just like he had done to those ceratops. He knew they must be laying on the ramp now, bleeding out. Dead.

Sacrificed for Revin’s cause.

As he limped out of the ship, Revin looked up at Kaiato, pulling Revin along over his shoulder. He bore a look of determination.

“Why do you keep saving my life?” Revin said, voice wheezing.

“Because you’re my only friend,” Kaiato said.

Revin smiled.

As they got further away, Revin looked back at the ship. Hundreds of saurians ran away, freed from their impending doom. But on the ramp the three dead ceratops were apparent. Their horns and face shields cracked and bleeding.

Bleeding from what he made them do.

He thought of Birdy, whom he had also lost his connection with. Birdy’s clever curiosity made no more echoes in Revin’s mind. Revin controlled no beasts.

It was just him. A useless monk.