Chapter 28 Nordraven Assault
NORDRAVEN ASSAULT
Lark surveyed the scene as she and White Eye leveled off over the city. Amid the smoking sections of the lower districts, groups of people were gathering without any obvious signs of violence.
It’s like Yarla suggested. People are coming to their senses since the effects of the Void Drinker have abated, she considered.
Though it seemed the fighting among Astral City’s Keep and the people had come to a stop, a much more disturbing presence had amassed outside the northern perimeter of the city.
An army stretched across the farmland and spanned the full breadth of the northern city wall.
Copper banners dotted the sea of armored men and orcs.
Rising high among the troops were breach towers rolling on massive wooden wheels.
Ballistas lined the front quarter of the army’s ranks.
“That’s a massive army, Lark. I don’t know if the city’s defenses can regroup to defend against another attack.
Ezra’s small force was able to overwhelm the Northern Gate during the Flashover.
I saw the Morsythian troops securing the Northern Gate just a moment ago,” Venrick said, coasting alongside them on Ingamar’s back.
“The wards had not been activated for a siege,” Lark said and as she did a shimmering pulse of energy sent a charge through the air. It rose up from the edge of the city just beyond the wall to encase the city in a clear energy shield.
Hardin and Quin flew in on her other side, slowing to match White Eye’s and Ingamar’s speeds. “Dragons,” Hardin said, pointing toward the northwestern horizon.
Lark’s breath caught as she saw the formation of dark shapes flying in the distance.
She couldn’t tell which of the Nordraven dragonriders was leading this group, or how many were in the flight, but that she could make them out from this distance meant a full-scale aerial assault was imminent.
“We’re not prepared for this,” Lark said.
“If those wards fall, everyone in here will be destroyed.”
“There are riders preparing at the Keep’s aerie. We should land, make sure they know we’re not fighting on Nordraven’s side here,” Venrick said, drawing Lark’s attention to the massive platform near the top of the Vermillion Keep.
“Hardin, find Cheyanne. Let her know I’m going to try to negotiate with my cousin,” Lark said, as she directed White Eye toward the Keep.
Hardin nodded, peeling away.
“This isn’t good,” Lark said. “Everyone on the ground is pinned here. Greggor has chosen the perfect time to catch Astral City at its weakest.”
“How well do you know your cousin? Will he listen to you?” Venrick asked as they approached the Keep’s landing zone.
Lark met his gaze. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was never close with him, but because Barrik spent most of Greggor’s childhood training me, I know he resents me.”
White Eye flared his wings, landing alongside Ingamar at the top of the Keep.
A female dragonrider leading a group of other dragonrider Knights hustled to meet them.
For a moment Lark couldn’t get a read on whether she was coming at them with hostile intentions, then she pressed her palm to her side.
Silver brismil armor formed over her body.
She pressed her hand out to the side and a matching blade as wide as her arm and long as her body formed.
“Hold!” the approaching dragonrider commanded. “Identify yourselves,” she demanded.
Lark straightened and stepped forward, Venrick donned his brismil armor, ready at a moment’s notice if things turned hostile.
Even in Lark’s current state, she knew her bonds gave her more power than any single dragonrider, but with the seven of them together…
Even with Venrick at her side, she didn’t know which of them had the advantage.
Choosing to not activate her armor and leaving her weapon in the saddle, Lark met the Paragon’s gaze directly.
“My name is Lark, more commonly known to Lamar as the dragonrider, Marcel Heartfell.”
The woman fell into a defensive stance, the riders around her drawing their weapons as well and falling in behind her to form a defensive wedge.
“This man beside me is Venrick. You may recognize his name as he was Squire to Tel Roan for over a decade. We’re here with another newly bonded dragonrider, Hardin of Doran and his dragon Quinthara.
” Lark projected her voice with an authority that she would’ve used on her own troops back in Skol.
She kept her hand near her scale but did not don her armor to show she was interested in a peaceful interaction.
“We’re not here to threaten Lamar or the Vermillion Keep and those who serve it,” she continued.
“We came to put an end to the Entity, who was responsible for creating the rimeshade. It attempted to destroy our realm by opening the veil here under the Keep. We came only to stop this being from permanently taking control of the magical energy in Sataran.”
“You want me to believe that you alone made the rimeshade wither away and eradicated the corruption that was causing the King’s insanity?” the rider asked.
“Not alone. In collaboration with the fae courts, we’ve thwarted the being known as the Void Drinker, trapping and imprisoning its power within a vessel suspended between our two realms. The source of your King’s corruption that caused the twisting of his mind to serve the Void Drinker and its followers, the rimeshade, has been contained at great sacrifice. ”
The dragonriders exchanged skeptical glances, but their Paragon studied Lark more carefully, eyes widening through the visor in her helmet as she seemed to notice the faint starlight still visible beneath Lark’s skin.
“Gods beyond the veil,” the Paragon breathed. “You’re the one the prophecy spoke of. The one with Aether’s gift.”
“Aether’s gift,” the Knights whispered among themselves. “The strongest gift of the gods… Born only once every five hundred years…”
“What is your name, Paragon?” Lark asked.
“Leona,” the woman supplied. “Paragon Leona of the Vermillion Keep’s Third Wing.
” Her eyes narrowed. “I’d heard rumors Heartfell was being held captive in the Keep.
He is Nordraven’s most feared dragonrider, yet here you stand, claiming to be him and you are a woman?
How do you expect us to trust that you’re really this fearsome—”
“Believe whatever suits you but now is not the time or place for me to prove my worth to you. Not with what’s amassing outside the city,” Lark cut in.
Leona shifted her gaze. “And how do we know you’re not here with them?” she gestured to the army.
“If I were, with my bonded gifts, I wouldn’t be trying to convince you to work with us,” Lark said.
“As fair and honest a reply as I could ask for. After seeing our own turn against its citizens, anyone who is offering to help protect this city is an ally in my eyes. If Lark is what you want us to call you, then Lark it shall be,” Leona said, letting her sword vanish as she removed her brismil armor.
Venrick did the same as the rest of the Vermillion Keep’s riders eased up on their hostile positions.
“We’ve seen the ways the corrupt magic turned those of us affected against our City and our Kingdom’s best interests. Now that it’s over, people have returned to themselves. We have just swept the city, ensuring our troops know the threat that has arisen outside our gates,” Leona said.
“Cheyanne’s rebel forces will not attack the Keep or Astral City troops now that the threat the Void Drinker posed is over,” Lark said.
“Whether they like it or not, our two forces have no choice but to face this threat outside the wall,” Leona said.
“What of the Archmagus, is the Magi Order still working against us?” Venrick said
“The last we saw of Hierro De Vonte was shortly after the Morsythians and that dwarf breached the gates. He and General Ashbrook left the city intending to convince Storm Keep’s Paragons to come to our aid,” she said.
Venrick looked to Lark, saying under his breath, “Or was that their cover for joining your cousin’s forces?”
Lark frowned. “If that’s the case, Hierro could’ve done serious damage to the wards before he fled.” She addressed Leona again, saying, “Where is your King? His support among the City troops will be essential if I can’t convince King Greggor to stand down.”
As if summoned by her words, a commotion erupted on the landing platform.
Guards appeared, half-dragging, half-supporting a man in tattered royal regalia.
King Agadorn’s once-proud features were haggard, his eyes wild with confusion and terror.
He babbled incoherently, occasionally breaking into shouts about darkness and stars.
“Your Majesty!” Paragon Leona rushed forward, dropping to one knee before him.
The King’s gaze darted about frantically, settling on nothing for more than a heartbeat. “Shadows,” he muttered. “In my mind. In my blood. It showed me... everything. Everything!” His voice rose to a shriek before he collapsed into broken sobs.
Venrick stepped forward. “I can only imagine what he is feeling now. I suffered the effects of the Void Drinker for a short time, as did Yarla, but his condition, must be much, much worse. Even with the Void Drinker contained, the effects he had on the King for so long, must be terrible. With healers, maybe he’ll recover, but for now,” he shook his head.
“For now, Lamar must continue without its leader,” Leona finished grimly, rising to her feet. She turned to her riders. “Escort His Majesty to the royal chambers. Post guards, healers, whatever he needs.”
As the guards led the broken King away, Leona faced Lark again, her expression hardened with new resolve. “If you really are Marcel Heartfell, why have you suddenly turned on Nordraven and joined this rebel alliance that’s emerged from the Everburning Forest?”