53. Storming Haalbeg
Rhazien
We burst through the great doors of the Nephilim palace, led by one of the soldiers, Valerick.
The vast throne room, with its crystalline pillars and vaulted ceiling, falls silent. Ispahan and Zenith had been discussing something intense by the look of it with their gathered retinue of soldiers and advisors.
Ispahan rises from his throne—tall and grave, his usual mirth missing, but his expression turns welcoming upon seeing us. Zenith stands beside him, hand already on his sword, but relaxes his stance once he notices us.
Alistair steps forward, his voice raw with anguish. "She's gone. They've taken Aleiraah—goblins, under Vroc’s command. She went outside the wards—"
"Alistair." Azael's sharp rebuke stops him mid-babble. We're all anxious, teetering at the brink of our sanity, ever since Aleiraah was abducted by the goblins with Raine’s help. But Alistair has been beating himself up over it the most.
Vroc's reach is far greater than any of us could have gauged.
While we're scattered across Mytherra, chasing carefully orchestrated abductions and attacks on nymphae and brownies factions, Aleiraah was left to defend Alistair alone. Raine dragged goblin filth straight to our door—played us without a single misstep.
Looking back, those 'random incidents' were anything but. The latest crisis was bait, a perfect ‘trap’ crafted to draw us away from our mate. And we walked right into it. We left the mansion exposed. None of us imagined that Raine was in cahoots with Vroc.
When Alistair told us what happened, my blood iced over. The feeling of helplessness was absolute. We'd been tracking those abductions for a few years. And yet, we were outplayed.
Raine is dead, and Alistair is finally free, but the cost was Aleiraah. The constant fear that we might be too late eats away at my insides like acid.
No. I can't think like that. I will get her back, no matter the cost.
"What?!" Ispahan's voice booms in the throne room, shock rippling over his features. Zenith's face is a mix of dread and outrage. "Those fucking goblins have gone too far! They dared to attack us and now this?"
“Your Majesty, let's move to the visitors' hall for a private discussion,” Zenith suggests cautiously, ushering us into a spacious chamber with a long table. Zahara joins us shortly after, looking haggard.
"What do you mean you were attacked too?" Baz asks urgently once Alistair recounts the events.
Alistair
"Rephaim guards tried to steal our daughter, right in our courtyard.
Treating my baby like an object. They kept tossing her among one another as they held me hostage.
She was so scared." Zahara's voice wobbles with anxiety and suppressed tears.
"Zenith reached us just in time to rescue Butter from them. "
Ispahan's jaw tightens, blue eyes flashing. "The fucking scums targeted my daughter! Using those worthless Rephaim traitors to do their dirty work."
“We thought the attacks were localized to our borders,” Zenith says through gritted teeth. “We realized too late that Vroc is conspiring with the Rephaim, infiltrating our castle. The danger has already seeped into every corner of our kingdom.”
"I'm glad no harm came to your daughter.
Vroc tricked us too, playing us like pawns on a chessboard.
But you know why we've come here, Ispahan.
We need your help to reach Haalbeg. Every moment we wait, the danger to Aleiraah increases.
" Baz's gaze is earnest yet steady as he appeals to the Nephilim King.
The same reason Aleiraah approached him months ago.
"Of course I will help. I just need to scry for the dimension and then we can go get Aleiraah from that scum-dweller's clutches." Ispahan says reassuringly, muscles coiled tight with tension.
"Han!" Zenith snaps, "You can't just go to Haalbeg without proper planning. We don’t know what it’s like there."
"I must. Aleiraah is my friend and has always been there for me. Besides, I promised to help her. Now that she's in danger, I must keep my word. And, this requires stealth. I can't lead our army into a dimension that might be destabilized by too many outsiders."
"And yet you would charge in blind? It's too dangerous. You can open the portal and stay back, right?" Zahara clings to Ispahan's arm, trying to dissuade him. I can understand her concern but we need him to get us to Aleiraah without delay.
"No, Hara. In order to teleport there, I have to be their anchor." He explains patiently.
"I'm scared, Han!" She whispers, sobbing into his chest.
“I understand, but Aleiraah and her mates need me,” he says, gently patting her back. “Right now, I'm the only one who can locate the goblin dimension and guide them there then bring everyone back safely. Zenith will stay to guard you, Butter, and the castle in my absence.”
“Wherever you go, Your Majesty, I go with you,” Zenith declares resolutely. The devoted general in him seeps through, his jaw hewn from granite.
“Not this time, Zenny,” Ispahan sighs, grabbing Zenith's shoulders. “I must go with Aleiraah’s mates. If you come along, who protects our kingdom? You know that conniving filth Vroc plays a long game. Our people need you here. Hara and Butter need you here.”
Zenith glares at him, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "I cannot lose you, Han." He confesses in a guttural voice that's almost inaudible.
"Me neither." Zahara sobs quietly.
"Have a little faith in your mate, eh?" Ispahan huffs to lighten the mood but neither Zenith nor Zahara budge.
"We'll make sure we have Ispahan's back. At all times. I give you my word." Azael declares in a steely voice. And the rest of us murmur in agreement.
Zenith searches our faces for sincerity before looking back at Ispahan. A silent communication passes between both. After a moment, Zenith relents, his shoulders easing a little.
He spears Azael with a stern look. "Fine. But you must find a way to reach me if anything goes awry and I will find a way to get to Han."
Azael inclines his head and produces a dark feather to him. "You might be able to mind-link me using this if the need arises."
"Might?" Zenith asks skeptically.
A shadow crosses Azael's face, "Haalbeg might have innate protections and block such outreach. We'll know only for certain once we get there."
I know he's frustrated. He has tried reaching out to Aleiraah ever since killing Raine in the garden, but hasn't heard back a word. Either the dimension is blocking the mind-link, or something has happened to her. I prefer to believe the former, otherwise holding onto my sanity would be impossible.
Zenith dips his chin as Zahara mumbles something into Ispahan's chest. He wraps her up in a hug and kisses her hair. After a moment he moves to Zenith who crushes him in a tight embrace and whispers, "Come back to me, sweetheart."
Focusing on us, Zenith says hoarsely, "All of you, come back safe with Aleiraah."
Ispahan presses a kiss into Zenith's neck then lets him go.
Moving away, he raises his hands as pale blue and golden threads spill from his palms. The surrounding stone walls tremble, shadows curling into the corners as his scrying powers ripple.
His blue eyes glow with golden light, the threads shooting out in a million directions as if searching for something.
Hours pass before the threads slowly spool back into his palms, glowing brighter until only one remains. He tugs it, ripping a jagged rift into the air. It swirls with red and purple light, a strong smell of iron bleeding from the tear.
Ispahan speaks in a voice echoing with divine power, "Haalbeg is veiled by something sinister. Hidden in shadows. But I found its seams. Anchor yourself to me, or the crossing will tear you to pieces."
We move into place, forming a tight loop around Ispahan. Each of us clasps the next person’s arm in an unbreakable circle as I chant a binding spell, tethering us together like a tapestry made of a single weave.
Once the spell is complete, Silas grits out, "Do it. Every heartbeat she spends in his clutches is too long."
Ispahan pulls his hands apart with considerable effort, muscles bulging, widening the rift enough for us to pass. We step through. Our surroundings warp, an eerie, high-pitched wind howling in my ears before darkness swallows us whole and the gash snaps shut.
Ifrinn
I land hard against a cold, jagged slope after being hurled into suffocating darkness. Mist clings to my body, metallic and heavy. I look around and find everyone in a similar state, groaning while getting to their feet.
“Thanks, Ispahan, but that trip was brutal,” Archie groans, his spine popping as he straightens up. We are all banged up. My ribs feel tender and for a moment I felt like my lungs were being crushed. Azael offers to heal us, but we decline, telling him to conserve his energy for what lies ahead.
"This dimension keeps out trespassers. I tried to shield us against the worst of it but still it managed to inflict some damage." Ispahan stands up with a painful expression, his body covered in bruises.
“You talk like Haalbeg is a living thing with a mind of its own.” I point out, confused by his phrasing.
He looks at me contemplatively. “Because that’s how it felt, like I was fighting against something or someone to arrive here. There’s a sinister presence that’s feeding this place power.”
An ominous feeling skitters down my spine as I take in our surroundings.
It appears pretty barren with gnarly trees devoid of foliage and a dense purple fog swirling about.
But what catches my attention is the crimson cascade that thunders from a glacial cavern, glowing like liquid fire in the gloom.
The air reeks of iron and salt, sharp enough to sting my nostrils.
"Blood Falls...it's real." Rhazien whispers, awestruck.
"That's actual blood?" I’m horrified.
Rhazien nods, looking a little uneasy, "Rumor has it that the lake from where it originates is home to ancient mythical creatures whose demise fuels the cascade."
Fucking creepy!