Chapter 61
Alphard’s chest tingled, icy and cold. Maeve’s Magic pressed through the bond Mal had created with his Dread Mark between them all. There was no direct command. He didn’t hear her voice, but he understood her command all the same.
He touched his chest. She felt like Antony now more than ever.
Alphard looked up at the High Lord of Aterna and Eryx.
Reeve’s eyes were on his chest with a curious expression.
“The time has come, it seems,” said Alphard. “You agreed to fight alongside us.”
Reeve looked up at him.
“The Dread Viper calls you to aid her in battle,” said Alphard.
Reeve downed the rest of his Elven Brandy and smiled. “I’m a bit rusty in battle.”
Alphard laughed nervously. Reeve nodded down at Alphard’s unfinished glass.
“That’ll help,” he said.
Alphard nodded and slammed back the drink. He hissed at the burn.
“Do you have a lady, Mavros?” Asked Reeve. “The redhead, yes?”
Alphard nodded.
“Go and kiss her. And tell the Dread Viper we will meet her at the Greywood.”
“Are you sure this is wise?” Asked Eryx.
“Of course it’s not wise,” said Reeve, tightening the straps on his bracers.
“Then why are we going?”
Reeve stopped and looked over at his commander, his second.
Eryx’s look of disappointment sliced through him. “Because it’s her? Or because we are protecting ourselves?”
Reeve did not answer right away. Eryx continued.
“If it’s a command, I will unsheathe my sword without question or pause. But as your friend, I urge you to consider the danger you are putting us in.”
Reeve grabbed him by the shoulder in a brotherly gesture. Eryx mimicked the movement.
“The danger is on our doorstep if we stay or go,” answered Reeve.
Eryx didn’t press him further. He followed his command and left to gather a portion of the Senshi Army.
Drystan was already suited up, a slew of arrows at his back and a glossy bow in his hand.
“Is that new?” Asked Reeve casually.
“Carved it in anticipation of this day,” the small archer replied.
“It’s not the same,” said Reeve.
“No. This time is very different.” Drystan crossed towards him and inspected his armor. “Eryx wasn’t there. He doesn’t know what that war was like. He doesn’t know what any war is like. Don’t be hard on yourself at the presence of his doubt and fear.”
“And you?” Asked Reeve. “Do you doubt my motives for running to their aid?”
Drystan grinned. “Brother, we’ve been alive for over three hundred years. You’ve proven you will fight and die and live for your people. But just this once, admit that you haven’t closed us off completely from them and the darkness that lingers there because you can’t let her go down with him.”
Drystan crossed the room and picked up Shadowslayer, turning and presenting it to Reeve.
“She’s going to go down with him, Reeve.”
Reeve grabbed the Elven steel from Drystan’s hands. “Not if I can help it,” he snarled. “Was that admission enough?”
Drystan laughed. “Yes. Now, let’s go slay some of those Dreaded Dead like old times.”
The Beryl City was mayhem. Magicals fled from the city, desperate to escape the onslaught of Dreaded Dead swarming from the Greywood. They were just as Reeve remembered them. Gangly, bony creatures with tattered remains of clothing, some with more skin than others, with one purpose: kill.
His Senshi Warriors tackled beheading them with fiery swords ablaze with his Aterna Magic. Magic that was rightfully theirs.
He longed to give it back to them. Selfishly, he longed to be unburdened of it.
Lightning cracked across the twilight sky, illuminating it with vibrant green scattered pops of color. Thunder rolled across the Greywood in great booms of Magic where Maeve and her Bellator were already fighting.
“Damn,” said Drystan with a nod and an impressed expression. “Guess someone’s rather angry.”
The Dreaded Dead flooding the city lessened as Maeve and the Magicals succeeded in stopping their advance from the Greywood. Reeve and his Senshi moved through The Beryl City, ensuring every corner was rid of the undead. He applauded the Magicals who fought back, though futile it was if they didn’t burn the corpses completely. Mordred and his wolves aided them, sniffing out the city for any stragglers.
Mere spells and hexes were nothing to the creatures reanimated with darkness.
While the entire metropolis had not been restored, the effort Mal and his Magicals had put into the revitalization of The Beryl City was worth commending. Even if Reeve felt a deadly set of eyes on him at all times.
Once they reached the Greywood, smoke and ash plumed high above the city and the trees from the burning bodies of the Dreaded Dead. The already barren land looked nothing short of apocalyptic.
Mordred and his wolves bolted ahead through the Greywood, prepared to rip and dismember the bodies of the undead. Magic was still required to end their cycle of reanimating permanently, but it slowed them down.
The Magicals were deep in battle in the forest. The undead were wild and untamed creatures of night, their sharp fingers dripping in deadly Magic.
Lightning shot from Maeve’s fingers, whipping through the swarms of Dreaded Dead coming up from the ground. They burst apart beneath her electric Magic and caught fire.
Alphard hollered a few yards away, commending her brutal attack as swirling orange flames shot from his fingers and wrapped the undead he faced.
“I must admit,” said Eryx, stepping to Reeve’s side, “she looks fearless.”
Maeve’s heart thumped out of beat. Erratic and filled with anger. Reeve felt it all. He didn’t tear his eyes away from her as he said, “She’s terrified.”
With a single hand motion, the Senshi Warriors filed past Eryx.
Fire blazed around them, burning what remained of the dead trees. Maeve’s eyes landed on Reeve as the creature before her turned to ash. Her shoulders dropped as her eyes scanned the line of Senshi Warriors joining their fight.
Maeve Obscured closer, setting fire to a crawling Dreaded Dead as she crossed toward them. Smoke blazed around them as the battle continued. If she noticed the dead Magicals littered across the floor of the forest, she did not look at them.
Reeve was certain she couldn’t bring herself to.
Her eyes traced the Vexkari markings on the side of his face that traveled down his neck.
“Thank you,” she said. “For coming.”
“The city is secure,” said Reeve.
Larliesl Obscured beside her. “There are hundreds more Maeve, coming from the waters on the south side of the Greywood.”
“We can flank them from the north, circle back around,” said Eryx. “If you can Obscure to the south and attack from there, we’ll have a decent position.”
Larliesl nodded. He and Eryx disappeared, shouting commands and instructions.
“Do you know what prompted them to attack the city?” Asked Reeve.
Maeve shook her head. “They’ve always remained behind Mal’s barrier.”
“And where is he?”
Maeve swallowed. “I left him on Earth.”
He looked down at her tired eyes. She looked past him, beyond the Greywood and the Beryl City to where the Dark Peaks loomed ominously in the distance.
“I can no longer underestimate the cruelty of the world around me. I will not continue to stand by as my Prince alone faces the darkness that remains here.” She tore her eyes away from the mountains and looked up at Reeve. “You’ve fought these creatures before, haven’t you?”
Reeve nodded.
Black mist swirled in the middle of the fiery bloodshed. The Dread Prince appeared from the dark shadows, on his knees looking frail and drained.
Astrea Obscured at his side a moment later. He clutched his chest as she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him from collapsing.
“You are too weak, my Prince,” she said, desperately. “You should not have done that.”
Mal’s eyes were hooded. His skin was pale and appeared thin.
Reeve knew at once. There was only one evil he’d ever seen claim such a powerful Magical that way. He felt her lingering and unmistakable presence in Mal’s Magic.
Astrea began frantically trying to heal him.
Mal pushed forward, falling back to the ground. Abraxas Obscured at his other side and supported his Prince as he faltered. With two pointed fingers, Abraxas fired on the enemy that crawled towards them. With little effort, the creature collapsed and turned to ash. He swirled his fingers high, creating a shield around them.
“Mal,” said Abraxas sternly. “You cannot fight right now.”
“Where is Maeve?” Mal asked, frantically.
Reeve turned to his side, where she had just been, with her eyes on The Dark Peaks. But she was gone. Horror that he’d not felt in years, decades, settled into his bones.
“She’s going to open the tomb,” said Mal weakly.
The hairs on the back of Reeve’s neck shot to attention.
“She doesn’t understand,” continued Mal, his dark hazel eyes fighting for rest. “It needs her to do it. Mine is not enough blood. It’s not enough blood, Brax, it’s not enough it’s not enough–”
Abraxas looked back at Reeve.
Mal fell into Abraxas fully. His arms were limp at his sides.
“What does that mean?” Abraxas asked Reeve sharply.
But flames of violet fire already consumed the High Lord of Aterna. He did not answer as he vanished.
Mal continued in a frantic and fading voice, “It’s not enough–”
Astrea cursed loudly, overwhelmed by the chaos of battle around her. Chaos she was far from accustomed to.
“Take Mal and go back to Castle Morana,” said Abraxas.
But Astrea had not heard him. She stepped past Abraxas’ shield at the sight of her brother covered in blood, still fighting strongly despite his wounds.
Mal collapsed in Abraxas’ arms, succumbing to his exhaustion.
Abraxas let out a frustration groan.
“Gods be with you, Maeve. Whatever you are doing,” whispered Abraxas.