The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 45

The Unexpected Hero

“Mister Dante?” a confused Jared asked as the normal flow of time returned and the blacksmith could once again move.
“He’s gone, Jared,” Alexander said, his voice quivering with suppressed tears.
“Gone? How?” Jared asked.
“There’s no time to explain. Hurry and remove the ring from this device,” Alexander said pointing at the obscuroveil with his eyes.
Jared obeyed, and the obscuroveil gave a loud shrieking hum before going silent once more.
“Okay, good, now open my satchel and take out the silver case inside,” Alexander said.
Jared did as he was told and held up the silver case to show he had completed his task.
“Take out one vial and pour it into my mouth,” Alexander explained.
Jared poured the opalescent liquid into Alexander’s mouth, and he swallowed. The tears felt thick and oily on his tongue and slimy as they made their way down his throat. His aching body convulsed as the magic spread through him. It was a pleasant warmth at first, but in no time, the comfortable heat turned into a searing agony. It is like having your innards boiled, Alexander thought as his broken bones snap back into place and healed themselves. Seconds felt like hours as the agonizing healing process of the phoenix tears tortured him.
After what felt like ages of agony and screaming, the pain subsided. Alexander’s breath came in big gasps of air as he pushed himself upright, Jared supporting him under one arm.
“I’m okay, Jared,” Alexander said, taking the silver case from the mouse-headed cevarion and slipping it back into his satchel.
Jared said something, but Alexander did not hear him. He made his way to the book Dante had dropped and knelt next to it. Shade, Dante, where did they take you?
“Alexander,” Jared said.
“Sorry, what?” Alexander said, his name bringing him back to reality again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jared asked, still looking worried.
Alexander picked up the discarded book, slipped it into his satchel next to the phoenix tears, and got back up before smiling at Jared and saying, “Yes, I’m as good as new now, thanks to you.”
“I am glad to hear that,” said a snide voice from behind. Alexander recognized it at once, and as he turned to face the foe he knew would be there, it almost felt like the Dragon’s Pulse spell was active again.
The Black General grinned down at him as he leaped down from a piece of rubble. “I wouldn’t want people to say I had an unfair advantage when I killed you,” the Black General said, a deranged look in his eyes.
Fear verging on the edge of panic bubbled up in Alexander. He was in no shape to face off against the dhaesí warrior. He had only two argentari worth of thaumaturgic energy left to use for spells, hadn’t slept in two days, and had lost his swords when the wall had fallen. The Black General on the other hand, was fresh and ready for a fight.
I have to buy some time to think, Alexander thought. With a condescending smirk he said, “Isn’t that against your orders. From what the White General said, your orders are to capture me alive.”
The Black General hesitated. “How do—” he cut off and smiled. “Ah, Peramier must have captured your wizard friend. It’s the only explanation for why you would still be here and him not. That means we have two captives to question.”
“What?” Alexander said.
“Yes. I passed Guerra on my way here. He has chained up your dog,” The Black General said. “He and Peramier are intent on following Cain’s orders to capture you alive. I, on the other hand, don’t care what Cain wants.” The deranged look in his eyes intensified and he almost frothed at the mouth as he added, “I just want to kill you.”
Jared, who was hiding behind Alexander, grabbed hold of his cloak in fear. Alexander abandoned his search for a plan as his instinctive desire to protect the cevarion boy took over. His body seemed to act on its own as he spun around, threw Jared over his shoulder, and sprinted towards the second wall. He pressed the palm of his hand against the wall and used geoturgy to soften the stone. Sand poured over his shoulders and face as he forced himself and the young boy through the wall, but before he was even halfway through an iron grip grabbed hold of him and dragged him back out.
Shade, I’m going to have to fight, Alexander thought. But I can at least save Jared. He forced the young blacksmith out of the other side just as the black general pulled him out again.
“You’re not getting away, this time, boy,” the Black General said.
Solid stone replaced the sandy barrier, and Jared was safe. Which was more than could be said for Alexander. The Black General sprinted so fast he was little more than a blur. Before Alexander knew what was happening, the dhaesí was on him with a rapid and powerful barrage of blows from fists, elbows and feet. In a desperate attempt to get some room to breathe, Alexander produced a momentary funnel of flame around his body. The Black General wasn’t much perturbed though. He took one step back, and from a device under his left wrist, sent a yellow cloud of poison gas into the air.
The acrid smell stung Alexanders sinuses and he reacted by producing a massive gust of wind to clear the air. The second his vision was clear, he saw four throwing knives flying right at him.
With the last of the thaumaturgic energy stored in one of the argentari, he produced a protective barrier to block the knives, then erected a more permanent barrier with geoturgy and a large piece of rubble from the collapsed wall.
Alexander breathed hard as his mind raced, searching for a strategy that would get him out of this situation alive. He peeked around the corner of the stone barrier hoping to see some weakness in his opponent, instead all he saw was the Black General running right at the stone, his fingers working rapidly to form the Heart Tongue Signs. When he reached the stone, he slapped his hand against it and activated the dhaesí spell. Molten cracks formed across the piece of wall, and the next second, it exploded with a massive bang.
It threw Alexander backwards, but he rolled back to his feet, just in time for the black general—fingers working on another set of signs—to slam the palm of his hand against the abdomen of the scorpenox shell cuirass. Alexander might as well not have worn any armor at all. The dhaesí spell sent a concussive wave through his body and blood filled his mouth as he sank to his knees.
“It’s over,” the Black General said as he stood over Alexander, pulling his two trident-like daggers from his belt. “Know the name of the man about to kill you. I am Abasdarhell, one of the last living shadow-dhaesí, known in this era as Fabien the Black General.”
With that he swung the two trident daggers at Alexander’s throat.
“Shadow, Ghost, how I need you,” Alexander whispered to himself. The words had barely left his lips when white and black smoke sped through the air and into his hands where they solidified back into two swords.
Of course, Alexander thought as he used the swords to block the daggers before they could pierce his throat. The swords are bound to my soul. They can be no more apart from my body than the rest of my soul can.
“You have new toys,” the Black General said, his eyes fixed on the swords.
“Yes,” Alexander said through gritted teeth. His innards felt as though they were on fire, but any injury would have to wait until this was over. “Here, let me show you how well they work.”
Alexander twisted his wrist and almost wrenched the trident daggers out of Fabien’s hands. The shadow-dhaesí, however, held on to his weapons by backing away.
It was enough time for Alexander to get back to his feet. He twirled the blades in his hands and waited for the next barrage of attacks, but they never came. Fabien just stood there, smiling at him as he said, “I have new toys too.”
Alexander followed the dhaesí’s gaze and saw the metallic polyhedron covered in Heart Tongue Runes at his feet. The runes glowed and the next moment black smoke filled the air, obscuring everything from sight. Before another aeroturgic spell could clear the air, Fabien’s blades cut through the wall of smoke like a whirlwind of death and Alexander—his eyes burning—barely blocked the blows in time. In fact, one of the trident daggers landed an inch-deep cut on his upper arm.
Alexander and Fabien broke apart, Fabien with an expression of victory on his face. Both of them stared at the red line of blood drawn by the poisoned dagger. The cut throbbed with pain, only to dissipate and be replaced with a burning sensation.
Several seconds past where both men expected Alexander to keel over, but nothing happened. Tentatively Alexander wiped the blood away with the back of his hand to reveal the unmarred skin.
The phoenix tears are still in my system, he realized with an enormous wave of relief. Fabien’s face was a mask of disgust and rage. His greatest weapon, his poisons, were useless.
A snarl of fury escaped the Black General as he exploded into another barrage of attacks. One second Fabien was several feet away, the next, he was attacking, his daggers striking the scorpenox shell armor repeatedly, looking for a gap between plates. He was relentless and his speed and strength were frightening as he attacked with all the ferociousness of a wild animal.
It took every bit of Alexander’s strength, speed, and ingenuity to escape the dhaesí’s wave of attacks. He knew he could not keep it up much longer. He needed to do something, to make some unexpected move to get an opening for an offensive move.
Fabien, however, never gave him the chance to come up with an answer. Using one of his prehensile feet, the dhaesí slammed a third dagger into Alexander’s leg, and it was over. He tripped as he tried to back away, dropped his swords, and his back hit the wall. His blood covered leg felt as if it were on fire as phoenix tears tried in vain to heal the damage.
“I do not understand how you are resisting my poisons, but you don’t seem to be immune to sharp edges,” Fabien said as he grabbed hold of Alexander’s hands, lifted them above his head, and slammed a trident dagger through both palms and into the stone, forcing Alexander to stand on his toes to stop the blade from tearing his flesh any further.
From behind his back, Fabien pulled a long-curved dagger. The dhaesí pulled back the dagger, ready to deliver the final blow.
It’s over, Alexander thought during the last second of his life which seemed to stretch out as if to make up for all the years he should have still lived. This is where I die. All that talk of destined paths, and it all ends here. After all the training and hard work, I still wasn’t strong enough. I’ve failed.
An explosion louder than anything Alexander had ever heard before sounded outside the remains of the first wall, drawing everyone’s attention, including Fabien’s, who had frozen in mid-movement. A wave of air and dust burst through the hole in the wall through which the abominations were pouring in.
A troll roared somewhere outside, and the next second a gray blur sped through the hole in the wall and smashed against the closed gates.
Fabien turned to stare at the dead troll and Alexander tried to take advantage of the distraction. He struggled to free his hands pinned to the wall. With a painful tug, he pulled the dagger skewering his palms out of the stone, but as soon as his feet touched the ground again, his legs buckled. His vision blurred as he lifted his head to see whether Fabien had realized he had freed himself. The dhaesí, however, was still staring at the opening in the wall.
As his vision flowed back into focus, Alexander saw a sight he never expected to see. Silver made his way through the army of abominations, a long sword that had blue flames dancing down its edge in his hand.
“You! What are you doing here, Dog?” Fabien screamed, saliva flying in strings from his snarling mouth.
“Stopping you, Abasdarhell,” Silver answered as he moved past Fabien.
The dhaesí lunged forward as soon as his prey was close enough, the curved dagger flashing through the air at Silver’s throat as he yelled, “No! He’s mine!”
Silver’s movements were a blur to Alexander, yet he wasn’t sure if it was because of the other man’s speed or because the poison in his system was overpowering the phoenix tears, but the next second there was a flash of blue flames that sent an arc of blood flying through the air.
Fabien screamed in agony. His hand fell before Alexander where he sat on the ground, still clutching the trident-like dagger.
“It is not your destiny to die here, Abasdarhell, but I will kill you if you get in my way,” Silver said. With more speed than Alexander thought was even magically possible, Silver backhanded Fabien and the dhaesí hit the ground as if he had fallen from a great height.
“Come on, we’re leaving,” Silver said as he knelt next to Alexander.
Alexander tried to reply, to tell Silver that they needed to stay and fight, but his body refused to comply with his mind.
Silver shook his head as if he could read Alexander’s thoughts. “This battle is over. But your war can not end here.” He placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, and darkness enveloped them.