Chapter 58
They have found another world full of magic. This place is strange, though. I have seen it with my own eyes. An entire world full of warriors. This world might stand against them even if we couldn’t. I suggest we set sail immediately. They may be warriors, but they do not know what is coming.
~Missive to the Black Oath
Azric
I remember the way it felt when Lysara filled me with her power. The burn of it, the overwhelming sense of despair as I became something other than the man I thought I was. I will never forget it, and as I watch Nyxthos press his hand to her chest, my heart aches for her.
It’s necessary. I know that. All the champions had to endure that feeling, and Fiona needs to become his champion. I’ve been doing everything I could to achieve this since these trials began.
She will survive. You did. She is just as strong as you are.
Inni’s words in my mind are of little help.
My nails dig into the stone as I watch her shake on the stage.
I’ve watched her hurt more times than I can count, and each of them tore at me.
That fucking human has wrapped herself around my heart, and there’s nothing I can do to distance myself.
I’d hoped that when I stepped back after our dragon flight, it would allow me some semblance of control.
But when Isola had her pinned down in that last trial, I tried to save her. I tried to shadow walk to her side. I would have ripped Isola apart to save her, even if it had damned us all to the thirteen hells.
I glance at the black dragon perched beside Inni as I remember how he’d ripped control of shadows from me in that moment.
All the way from outside the castle, he’d stripped me of the power I lean on the most. I had shattered every piece of furniture in my chambers as I watched her on the brink of death.
But she’d survived. Somehow, she’d convinced Isola to die in her place.
Somehow, she’d reached out and pulled on one of the Undying’s heartstrings.
My little Priestess survived one of the Lost One’s magic.
She’d figured out all Nyxthos’s tricks to lead her to the altar.
On her own. She’s grown so much since the night she robbed me.
Her body hangs limp, suspended in the air, and Nyxthos steps aside to address the audience one last time. I want to go to her, to hold her hand and tell her it will be okay. Damn the games I’m forced to play in this circus of fools.
She is strong, Azric Cyrus. She must stand on her own as she did in the trials. You cannot be her hero at every turn. Do not do anything foolish.
I snarl at her words, and from the corner of my eye, I see a puff of smoke leave Inni’s snout as she turns to look at me. I ignore her as I wait for Nyxthos to speak.
He doesn’t have a chance to, though. An explosion of power from above us draws every eye, including Nyxthos.
A ship is floating twenty feet in the air.
A crystal ship made of a strangely glowing black stone with shadows for sails.
It looks almost like Vyran’s scales with how much power is imbued in it, but that’s not possible.
The ship is massive, at least fifty feet long.
I take it all in without moving, without reacting, just as I’ve trained myself to do.
But the dragons react to the sight of the ship. All of them, in unison, scream, “The Hunters have come!”
I look to Nyxthos, and there’s fear in his eyes, but before anyone can react, an explosion hits the stage of the amphitheater and fills the air with some kind of glittery substance.
Then, close to twenty humans in incredibly perfect steel armor leap from the ship onto the stage.
Crystals like the ones the ship is made from are embedded in their breastplates, each of them glowing with different colors.
Without a thought, I try to reach out with shadows as I would with any other attack, to rip them apart regardless of their steel armor.
Unlike when Vyran stripped the shadows from me, I can reach them, but as soon as I make the connection, it’s like I’m being drained of power.
I feel as though I’m coated in the thickest steel imaginable, and I can feel my power fading faster than ever before.
Even faster than when I was training Fiona, and that nearly killed me with how hard I was pushing.
Do not use magic! It will only drain you! Teeth and claws only!
I leap from my seat, wings exploding from my back in an instant, but I’m too slow.
Nyxthos is obviously trying to leave. His body shimmers, but he can’t shadow walk in that strange way that all gods do.
He hesitates for only a few seconds as his powers are drained from him just as mine were, and that’s all it takes.
One of the Hunters thrusts a longsword through his chest, through his heart if gods actually have them.
The crystal in the Hunter’s breastplate flares a black so blindingly strong that it seems to absorb the light of the torches, and the Hunter shakes with the effort to hold his sword in the god’s chest.
Hunters surround him, spears and shields creating a dome of protection as one Hunter kills a god before our eyes.
The rest of the audience is either frozen in place or screaming in pain as they try to use magic.
The five dragons and I are the only ones moving toward the stage, and my eyes keep going back to Fiona, terrified they’ll turn on her as soon as they’re done with Nyxthos.
I couldn’t give a damn about that bastard dying. He’s been nothing but an arrogant fool for as long as I’ve known him. The way he treated Echo was tragic, but when the prize is won, the Hunters will focus on the rest of us. And Fiona. That can’t happen.
“Azric,” Sidon calls out in a rough voice I know means he’s commanding me rather than suggesting, “hit them hard, but then retreat. Do not let their weapons touch you. Do not use magic other than your Steel bloodline. Fight hard, but don’t let them surround you.
They’re faster than you think. Kasan, when the barrier drops, make things easier for us.
Inni, be ready to help anyone they begin to drain.
Vyran, keep everyone else back. I do not want this to turn into a bloodbath of champions or dragons.
Calyr, watch the ship, and let us know if it does anything. ”
“What are you going to do?” I shout as we get closer.
There’s a momentary pause, and I glance at the largest of the dragons. He’s smiling as he looks at me. “I’m going to kill them all.”
I swoop down at Fiona’s side just as Brandor Halden stands up, his hand on his chest. Vyran lands in front of the crowd with his back to the actual enemy and roars, “DON’T MOVE!
” When a dragon the size of Vyran commands you like that, you do it.
Even if a god is being murdered thirty feet away, you do what you’re fucking told.
I draw Mournfang from its sheath on my belt and smile as I finally get a good look at my true enemy. I’d been right to think this was all happening soon. I’d been right about it all. Still, I’m too late.
Each of the Hunters is just a human. They’ve been given some kind of power just like the Godforged have, but at their core, they’re just humans. And I have been killing humans since I became a champion.
Damn Nyxthos and the rest of those cowards we call gods. Instead of doing something about it all, they sat and waited. If I hadn’t killed Echo when I did, none of the gods would even be here. They’d all be in their own worlds, hiding like rats in a leaky ship, destined to drown.
I swing Mournfang at a shield, and for the first time in my life, I don’t control myself.
I embrace the rage, the desire to fill rivers with blood.
I let the anger and fury I’ve contained all these years flow through me like water from a spring, unending and unstoppable.
Every battle before this has been against my allies, whether or not they understood it.
I had to control myself. I had to hold back.
Now, I don’t have to do anything of the sort.
Mournfang cuts through the shield as if it were only paper, and I feel it continue through the bearer’s chest as he holds it close to maintain his strength.
His scream is like a siren’s song, drawing me further into the fever of battle.
Spears jab at me, but they’re no faster than any of the Godforged.
I slip between them, pushing against their formation.
I’ve stood on the front lines against the Chained and cut them down like wheat before the sickle. I’ve fought an army of Abominations without ever using anything but my blade, and they never touched me.
This? This feels like a joke.
Do not become overconfident! Inni’s words of chastisement remind me that they defeated dragons, and I remember my Uncle Darian’s words when I was young. Don’t let them know what you can do. Don’t let them understand how they can fight you.
Are they baiting me into a false sense of security?
My blade never stops, and my body moves with a surety I’ve gained from a lifetime of war. But I don’t push. I do as Sidon commanded, drawing their attention and keeping myself between them and Fiona.
As I spin, I see her staring at me with black eyes. Gone is the blue I’ve dreamed of too many times to count.
The formation expands, moving to encircle me, but I dance backward. Their attention is focused on me, but they refuse to attack.
My strikes are as hard as any Chained, and Mournfang renders their armor and shields worthless. Multiple Hunters fall to my blade, and I test the shadows again. Still, I sense that impenetrable sense of steel surrounding me, yearning to take every bit of power.