Upon scaling the walls, Emalia feared the worst for Novakrayu, but rather than enemy occupation or madness in the streets, things were eerily quiet. She hoped more people had either fled or hid in their homes while Maecia's people were confined to only one or two gates. Thus, the first thing she did upon entering the city was to find an uncompromised section of guards, which was not difficult, for there were both Targul and trainee guardians patrolling the streets. She informed them about the enemy's presence at the gates, and many departed to fight quickly enough. They could not risk letting her, even if taking back the gates was unlikely.

Regardless, her main target was of a different sort. They were there now, in fact.

The head priest of Novakrayu, Wracen, met them at the temple's doors and led them inside. He lacked Sorcery, unlike perhaps fifteen of his subordinates who remained below in the large room of the timber temple, waiting in preparation. She wished for more, but some were scattered throughout the city. Cowards, she thought.

"The other tunnel entrances are blocked," he explained, gesturing to the many priests. "We will hold her here, should she slip past the armies."

"Why not face her on the field?" Ignatia asked, surprising Wracen with her competence in Vasian.

"We are not warriors, and only some have chosen the path of resistance—"

"Daecinus could use you against Maecia."

"Perhaps, but as we understand this to be her final destination, then our defense here is necessary."

"If she wins the battle. If your few Sorcerers enough."

Wracen put a finger up in disagreement. "Ah, but if her objective is this Spell, then victory on the field is but a distraction. She will likely commit to a ruse to escape here."

Sovina nodded along. "Agreed. But you should have forced your Sorcerers to fight."

"It was not in our control, unfortunately."

"Regardless," Emalia said, interjecting, "Maecia could have another approach in mind. You should defend closer to your chamber."

The priest mused on this, hands clasping before him. "I am confident the other approaches were sealed, and considering it is buried under many feet of dirt and stone, then encased in brick and bone… Ah, nevertheless, it is a good point."

However, it didn't seem to resonate with all, for one of the priests waiting in defense stepped forward. Emalia struggled to recall the young woman's name, but she was a common face around the temple. "Pardon, but I must disagree with the proposal to move."

"Ah, Sudanka, yes, your advice is heard, but Emalia and her companions likely know better than we do on the matter."

This Sudanka didn't seem convinced. "Packing into a tight corridor sacrifices our visibility and numerical superiority. It just doesn't seem worth it."

"Do not be arrogant," Sovina said. "You're facing a two-century-old Sorcerer with more experience and power than any of us. We'll play it safe."

"As the senior Sorcerer here, I disagree with the proposed strategem."

Ignatia stepped forward, chin raising. "As the Sorcerer with real combat experience, I say you obey. We defend deeper in."

As they argued, Emalia watched Sudanka closely. Something just didn't sit right about this woman. She didn't appear at Emalia's speeches like the others—and, of course, that was just fine, except it was odd. And now this? I'm just paranoid with everything going on, she thought, casting a curious gaze around the room. Many were watching the disagreement, as one might expect, but it didn't seem as if any were surprised by Sudanka's interruption. It must be the norm.

And then she noticed that Protis was missing. Alarming and surprising, considering they were a massive creature clad in armor. Something is going on here. She brushed against Sovina, and her partner glanced at her, eyes narrowing. Emalia ran fingers through her own hair as if to comb it slightly in an anxious fidget. Sovina's eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward slightly. Just enough to angle herself closer to Sudanka, as if shifting her stance due to sore feet.

The priestess noticed this, oddly, and frowned.

Emalia retreated. She didn't want to get tangled up with Sorcerers again.

Ignatia glowered at Sudanka. "Why are you holding Soul power?"

"In case of attack, of course. Is it not wise to be prepared?"

"Maecia is outside the city. Or is there different fight you prepare?"

"I have no notion of what you could possibly mean."

Wracen put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Oh, Sudanka, don't tell me…"

He did not get to finish his sentence, for the air suddenly chilled, and Sudanka's eyes opened wide in some rush of power. Traitors! Emalia's mind screamed as she scrambled away for cover. Sorcery worked best with direct line of sight, and she was not about to give them that. Ignatia, however, stood her ground, staring down the priestess. Nothing happened. Sudanka gasped and seemed to strain, and then Sovina slashed her down the chest and ran her through with her sword.

The half-dozen or so Sorcerous priests broke into a chaotic mess as a number of their group turned on them, casting Spells with heartless abandon. Black Curses and searing death dropped the true ones quickly, and within a moment, five were dead, leaving the same number scattering as four continued their attacks. One even flung some kind of mass of necrotic wisps at Sovina in one terrible arc, plunging Emalia's stomach into a wrenching heave. It should have killed her. It would kill anyone. Except Sovina miraculously dodged aside, leaping behind a turned-over table. Ignatia blocked another attack as Sovina recovered, protecting a stupefied Wracen as Emalia hid behind a pillar, glancing about for more traitor priests.

She peeked back around the pillar at the deadlock in the center of the temple room when a streak of grey plummeted from above. Protis smashed into two of the priests, crumpling them. The other two leaped away from the Soulborne's massive fists, just in time for one to be hit with some kind of Corruptive, withering Spell from Ignatia, and the other to be taken down by one of their own. Or, well, one who used to be their own.

And just like that, all was still.

"By all the gods, why?" Wracen cried, looking about at the destroyed interior, the scattered bodies, the pale and horrified faces of other priests. "Why would they turn their backs on us? On our people? On the gods?"

"Secure tunnel," Ignatia said to Protis. "Could be more waiting. I clear the room."

The Soulborne grunted and dashed off as Ignatia stalked the temple's main chamber's nooks, crannies, and siderooms.

Emalia found Sovina and took her by the shoulders. "I can't believe you dodged the Spell! Gods, I'm so glad you're safe."

She let out a long breath, cleaned off her blade, and sheathed it. "Thanks for getting behind cover. That was the smart thing to do."

Emalia looked away. "Of course." She walked up to Wracen and took him by the arm, pulling him from Sudanka's brutalized corpse. "Gather your people. We need to move inward."

He nodded absent-mindedly. "Yes. Indeed. Move inward."

"We need to destroy the room."

"Destroy it?"

"If that's Maecia's target, defending it is too great a risk. We need to break it."

"But it…" He sighed and shook himself. "Yes, very well. Our final defense was the Artifact taken by Daecinus, anyway, I suppose. We no longer have a current and explicit need for the chamber."

"Thank you, Wracen."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He paused there, only a few steps from the corpses.

"What is it?" she asked, head cocked.

"Protis… explained some of it. But why? Why would they do this? Why bring about such a horrible Spell? All to end Sorcery?"

"Well. They likely believed the Spell is a necessary evil, considering their beliefs on Souls."

"But Raizak's gift was that of Sorcery to humankind, as you said? Removing our ignorance, gifting us such power… How could they believe in the gods and their own claims?"

Emalia bit her lip, realizing that this was the first time in a long time that she thought of the gods and their histories and intents. Wracen's point had barely crossed her mind, even though she initially taught them of Raizak back when she was more certain about the gods. I'll need time after this to sort this out. There are too many questions I don't know the answers to.

"Honestly, I don't know," she muttered. "You may be right. They may have lost their faith."

Wracen nodded sadly. "Of course. I wish I had done better, but… Saem give me good fortune, I will make it right again."

…

We were winning, and yet I felt concerned.

My flank was steadily beating back Maecia's men, the Novakrayuan levies far fresher and more numerous than the ragged, arrow-peppered warriors. With me neutralizing any Reaver threat as they arose, we enveloped most of the line and crushed it, threatening collapse. My center was pushing back the Sorcerers, for my own from New Petha were better trained than Maecia's band. Add in the Soulborne, armored and armed, and despite their orders to play it safe, we were nearing a breakthrough. On the far flank, it seemed the northern zealots were finding similar success, but I wasn't entirely sure. Finally, the Targul interception force caught a large band of mercenaries meant to hit our rear, stalling them.

And yet, despite it all, I was concerned. Yes, I was an outside element ruining her plan, but she would have prepared better than this. Executed with a greater advantage, numerical or otherwise. It just didn't make sense.

Thus, I proceeded cautiously, not letting the militiamen overextend while keeping a portion in reserve for any further surprises. We lose through oversight, not attrition, I thought, standing back from the shield wall to observe the battlefield once more, trying to find that oversight.

And then it happened.

Not as a delicate ruse or a powerful relief force, but Sorcery. Soulfire.

A sickly green with a roaring hiss of flame that sounded like suppressed screams. The torrent of Soulfire struck the militiamen near the inner flank, instantly incinerating the flesh from a dozen men's bones. Bodies dissipated and remains clattered to the dirt like bundles of abandoned sticks, a distant gasp whispered into the ether as they died.

"Push now!" I roared, running back for my horse. Where was the damn boy holding it?

Men screamed in terror and anger, pushing, running, fighting. Madness behind.

Why wait? I thought, turning about, spotting the mount, twisting and bucking under the boy's grasp, rope around the horse's neck to hold it steady. I ran forth, ordered him to flee, and threw myself up on the horse's bare back. I faced forward just in time to see another column of Soulfire strike the militamen. They had clumped up to try to break through the desperate defenders. Indeed, a few of Maecia's own were caught in the Spell, expressions of terror captured forever in their last breath as they died, Souls separated from this world.

It was carnage. Destruction. Annihilation. It was a far greater display of power than I could possibly manage myself. She's too powerful. I stared about. Where was Eudoxia?

There! I rode hard for my people, abandoning the Novakrayuans to their desperate fate. It was a shameful move, but I had little choice. She had to be stopped above all else. We had to win.

I found Eudoxia at the rear of the Sorcerers, striking down opponent Sorcerers as they defended themselves from the timed onslaught of Spellfire coordinated by my own forces. Training and discipline went far in such engagements.

"Maecia's punching a hole through the southern line!" I shouted. "What's your status here?"

"Desirdus has committed. We are almost through." She left a man screaming as black veins crawled up his skin, eating into his eyes like serpents under the flesh, and turned to me, a slight glow to her crimson irises.

The blood of my caste, I recognized in her. Perhaps our Sorcerous lineage is not gone entirely. "We need to reinforce the south."

"We're almost through—"

"The battle is irrelevant." I rode past her and found Desirdus, stern-faced and watchful, shouting orders for Sorcerers to redirect fire and their Soulborne. "Archon of the Second Fleet!"

He spotted me and recognized my urgency. "Your commands?"

"Keep what is necessary to hold. The rest comes with Eudoxia and me!"

"Sorceii or strates?"

"Your Sorcerers. Now!"

He nodded and quickly reorganized and moved his forces, showcasing his competency. Even if he wasn't as ardent a supporter as Ignatia, the man was invaluable as a commander. He handed off a dozen sorceii and their Soulborne. I led them back to Eudoxia and swung in an arc south just in time to see Maecia and a few others—likely Sorcerers—ride atop mounts through a large gap in the line of Novakaryu militia.

Curse that woman. I grunted and went to ride after her, but stopped myself. I couldn't defeat her on my own.

"We give chase," I ordered the group now with me. "But first, send your Soulborne to break their south flank."

It had been teetering on collapse right before Maecia's intervention, and now it was in a bloody stalemate between a battered, reduced enemy and the half-broken, terrified city levies of Novakrayu. By my estimations, the Soulbrone could quickly dash in and help, then return to us by the time we reached the walls.

I headed the party of humans as the Dead dashed back to the front. The sorceii followed me at a jog—I was glad to have real soldiers here who committed to physical training rather than lazy archons out of shape and physically pathetic. Well, not unlike myself, I supposed.

Eudoxia was the worst off among us, since I was on horseback, and we kept to a pace she could manage.

"I apologize for my weakness, High Magistros," she said through gasps, jogging through the empty fields nearing Novakrayu. These were closer and, thus, harvested.

"It is a harsh realization for us both, Magistros. The coming war will be a taxing one." I paused, then dismounted, offering it to her. Two riders would be difficult given the lack of a saddle.

"High Magi—"

"Stop. Take it."

She mounted the horse with some shame, as one might expect from someone as proud as she. I jogged with the sorceii toward Novakrayu, Eudoxia's mount trotting alongside me, for I was fresher than she.

"She used Soulfire, didn't she?" Eudoxia asked.

"Yes."

"It will require a coordinated, simultaneous attack from all of us to break her defenses."

"You are correct." I felt my bald head where the diadem used to rest, empowering me. "Lacking Artifacts as I am, she far outstrips me."

Eudoxia gave a start and then took off her own bracelets of ivory, bronze, and silver, handing them to me. She then gave me her rings and a necklace that seemed akin to the Sorcerer's Eye I used to have, though less potent. "Take these, High Magistros, please."

I went to refuse them and argue, but held my tongue. She was right to divest her power in me if we wished to maximize our chances of victory. I was the strongest, and any percent increase in ability netted the most value in my hands. So, I accepted them with a nod of thanks. Immediately, I felt a surge in capacity, not quite matching my former heights but getting much closer. If it came to it, I could potentially hold my own against Maecia's attacks now, though not for long.

"High Magistros?" Eudoxia asked somewhat pensively.

I looked up to hear, out of breath, already feeling the strain—one I welcomed as a release for the stress. "Ask it."

"Protis told us Maecia was intent on blocking Sorcery by use of the city's population as fuel for some Spell… How?"

"She has repurposed my Grand Observatory for more than access to the High Plane of Souls. She aims to build a barrier between the two Sorcerous planes and our own. It would allow dissipating Souls to return to the High and Low but not be called down."

"So it would slowly choke away our power, eventually freeing the Dead from human control."

"Correct."

"That seems incredibly risky," she muttered, glaring ahead. "And not just to Sorcery, but to us."

I said nothing. Eudoxia was intelligent enough to see the problem in Maecia's plan for our people: it undercut our ability to fight while turning our greatest Sorcerous weapon—the Soulborne—against us.

"The Great Lady worries for you," she said. "Perhaps you should send her a thought…"

"That is not how it works," I replied with some chagrin. Of course, High Pethyan blood had diluted enough so that bonds were a thing of distant history. "But you are right."

War and battle were likely unkind things to experience. Usually, most things were dampened or silent over vast distances, but sometimes certain heightened feelings went through, particularly if sent with practiced intention. So, as we ran, I focused on a sense of comfort, then one of anxiety and trepidation, and finally of determination. It was not the most reassuring message, but she knew me well enough to sort through the uneasiness with a practiced eye, so to speak.

As soon as I finished the 'message', we neared the large walls of Novakrayu. A massive gatehouse made for a fortified entry point, difficult to breach, and yet it was discomfortingly quiet. I scanned it with Soulsight and saw, worryingly, not a Soul alive there.

"She forced her way through," I muttered, slowing, eyes narrowed. "But how did she open the gates?"

The sorceii dispersed, clearing the entry, and one shouted out, pointing. There were dozens of corpses and dying injured, including even a few Reaver bodies. Only two, but they bore significant wounds from battle, it seemed.

I didn't remember seeing her flee the field with Dead…

"She has Reavers inside the city," I announced, feeling dread rise up like bile. It would be just like Nova if I didn't act soon. Worse.

But why not close the gate and bar our path? I thought, slowly approaching. The answer came soon after, for one of the large doors was broken off its hinges. How was that possible?

"High Magistros! Here," one of the sorceii said, kneeling over a body.

I approached and saw why she had such concern in her voice. The dead guard was not just slashed through and bashed or killed with simple Reaver brutality. He was bisected. But the odd part was the cut… It was not from a blade.

I pressed my fingers into my temples, working away the headache emerging from stress as I studied the brutalized corpse. Old memories drifting up like ashen smoke.

Maecia had another surprise, but this was not an ambush or reserve force like the others, but something worse. A type of creature we used in the first Vasian War… One I would not touch again for its unreliability and savagery. A thing more resembling the creatures in Kremya than man-made Reavers or Soulborne, though it bore some similarities, feasting on humans for sustenance and strength, this type was forced through an extreme growth cycle, pumped full of Souls like rich cattle fed for slaughter. Dangerous, though inefficient for mass-scale, but worse, difficult to control, and even more so in this age.

Creatures used for sieges to assault walls and break thick lines, to withstand cavalry charges, to crush infantry. They were taller than any Reaver or Soulborne, stronger, but slow and stupid. All they knew was death and hunger.

Somehow, some way, a Behemoth was here in Novakrayu.

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