Red Nightfall

Six Months Later

The Freelands of Stygia

The Freedmen City

He dreamed of it yet again.

He dreamed of standing before the gates, the cracks from which spilled the hateful red light of the Realm of Brass. The war drums of the Blood God's armies welcomed him, and so the gladiator king prepared himself for war. But when he stepped through the portal, his feet met the earth of Nuceria. Upon the peak of a mountain overlooking the vast empire that once enslaved him, he found himself standing.

Up the earthen steps, the legions of his hated foe marched. The gilded tyrant himself among them, leading his armies to crush the rebellious slaves. Angronius stood alone before them, leading naught but a shadow of the hordes that once pledged themselves to follow him. The dream offered little explanation, but Angronius felt the familiar pang of betrayal. He knew not who was responsible, yet he did not care.

He only thought of one thing, of how proud he was to fight as a free man. And if the worst should happen, he would die as one.

Then, the heavens opened up and poured fire upon them all.

Freedman warrior, legionnaire, king and emperor. All were consumed.

Then, he woke up, relieved and ready to face the day.

The dream came to him once every week for the past month, now it came to him almost every night, though it didn't bother Angronius that much anymore. He merely dismissed it as a manifestation of all his insecurities and fears, perhaps a bit of the Nails grinding down against his brain. Today was no different, he wouldn't let it ruin his morning.

There was a familiar weight on his chest, and the welcome warmth of a woman. She was a blessed sight for one whose nights were oft so tormented. Gently, Angronius pushed Polgara away until she slid off and sank into the soft bed of bear furs.

She had become more than just his woman now. The gladiator king found his queen, and Angronius made her his wife. There was no one to bless their union, no prolonged ceremony or ritual. No higher authority save for the mutual love they shared, and a promise to be faithful to each other till death takes them. It was all they needed, it was all they wanted. In the wake of all they've endured and suffered, every bit of happiness would be theirs.

He greeted her as he usually did, with a kiss on the cheek and another on her neck. Then, his eyes drifted down to the swell in her belly.

Life grew within Polgara's womb, she now carried his child and would soon deliver it into the world. A world of free men, far from the reach of Nuceria. It was dangerous to hope, but Angronius chose to do so. This was his world, their world, and by his chain-axes he would see that it remained so. The child would be born free, into a house built by loving hands and the warmth of a family- never in the kennels.

Angronius left his wife to resume his work on the upper terrace. Polgara would naturally be slow to leave the bed with all the extra weight on her hips, and she could do little else than tend to light chores around the house. It was a long road for her to grow towards self-sufficiency, for Polgara had been raised in a house to be attended daily by her slaves. Here, in the Freelands, she had no one else to rely on except for Angronius. And while he was more than willing to serve her, out of love, Polgara was driven by guilt to outgrow her highborn upbringing.

Some bad habits remained. But then, humans were never adept at perfection.

Angronius, in that regard, was another story entirely. Though it was far from a palace, the home he built and fashioned out of stone was a marvel of architecture. Far-flung into the wilds of the Freelands, Angronius cut and hammered the stubborn rocks of Stygia to be shapened according to his genius design. His labors felt like nothing, for the gladiator king found joy in discovering things he was naturally inclined to pick up on. He had mastered the art of combat in the arena, he now mastered the art of crafting.

Under his leadership, the community of freedmen built a settlement around the village and grew into a city of its own. A citadel with walls of stone, efficiently constructed by Angronius' own hands with the simplest of materials. Six months was all it took, and Angronius learned what took civilizations years to discover and implement.

Although he could've been capable of creating things, lofty and opulent things, Angronius did not help recreate a facsimile of Reksia. He didn't build palaces or monuments, bastions or ivory towers. He built homes, where whole families could live and thrive. Thatch and mud huts were replaced by sturdy brick or stubborn stone. With his help, freedmen worked the fertile soil of the green sea beneath Mt. Khyaltuwa. They raised orchards, farms and vineyards. The simplest joys of good old fashioned labor and the reward of a seasonal harvest, the ambitions and convoluted plots of high societies could never compare.

Their accomplishments, his accomplishments, were nothing short of miraculous.

And it wasn't just Angronius who made an impact on the freedmen.

While her husband busied himself with constructing his dream city, Polgara handled many disputes among the freedmen and inadvertently became their judge. She became known as the wisest woman in the settlement, after mediating potential feuds and averting internal strife among Angronius' people. For this, she was loved and respected by all.

Her marriage to the gladiator king known to the women of the settlement, and for this she was envied by many.

It was no secret that Angronius was desired by many women, most of them were warriors and had fought alongside him since they first left the kennels of the coliseum undercity. Many of them fancied themselves as more worthy mates to a god of war, far better than some provincial noblewoman too soft for the hard life of the Freelands, though none of them gave voice to this opinion within earshot of the man himself.

For Angronius held Polgara's honor sacred above all. Any who dared to sully it in any way would be subject to his wrath, be it man or woman. There had been only one who did such a thing, one that Angronius held as a blood-brother, who disrespected the sorceress and even he was inches away from death. No one had the audacity to test the gladiator king, for they had seen him in action enough to know what awaited them should they do so.

No one, save for that fiery-haired she-devil with a sword and skin of steel.

She came riding through the gates, unhindered as the sentinels recognized her banners and the company she kept. Why she rode that far to the citadel enshrouded by the holy mountain, none but Sonjita knew. Although, Angronius had a few ideas on why she chose to come to his domain.

The Red Maiden pulled her mount to a halt and stared down in disbelief at what she saw.

Angronius stood next to a wooden plow he had designed, instructing some freedmen farmers on how to operate it on the field. The gladiator king did not at all look like the god of war that she had last seen months before. He was dressed in a simple wool tunic and leather gambeson, woven together by grateful freedmen weavers who could offer nothing else but common clothes. Tools of his own making hung from his belt in place of weapons, and leather boots covered his feet in place of battle greaves.

Humility, it disgusted her.

"Greetings, Red Maiden." Angronius said, his voice cold and distant.

"Angronius." Sonjita replied, "I see you've made good use of your time. Picked a good spot too, if you're looking to face your enemies on level ground."

The gladiator king crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, "We may have set aside our armor and weapons, to take up tools for building up our homes. But make no mistake, sheep do not reside in this place- only lions."

She was testing him, to see if he still had teeth. Sonjita smirked, finding that he did.

Angronius, unwilling to play her game, got to the point. "Why did you come here, Sonjita?"

The Red Maiden turned her eyes to the holy mountain that towered so high above them that it pierced the clouds, "There didn't used to be a city in this place. I was curious. Now, my need to know has been sated."

The gladiator king eyed the raiders in her warband warily as their covetous eyes wandered over to the young women working in the orchards next to the untilled field. "If you and your lot are inclined to linger, I would advise you all to behave yourselves. These people are free, but they are all under my protection. Know that I will not suffer any grievances against them unpunished."

"I'll keep that in mind." Sonjita replied, having no intention of staying long in that place. She and her warband would stop for supplies then be on their way. The mountain awaited her, and she had a long journey ahead of her.

The day passed quickly, though not quickly enough for some unscrupulous fiends waiting in the shadows of the nearby hills separating the Lands-Between from the freedmen city. After six months, the shades of the Perfidium Guild finally tracked down their quarry. Six months of peace, about to be shattered with the lamentations of freedmen. The assassins relished the opportunity to repay the gladiator king for what he did to their brothers at the Palace Praxica, when he first encountered them.

And this time, they brought a little help.

That Night

The faint sounds of mirth from the city tavern reached Polgara's ears, and she found herself smiling at the beautiful melody sung from the lips of joyful Stygians. Indeed, her Angronius found a way to bring life back to the dying folk of this land. A near-impossible feat for any man, but then Angronius was no man.

The seed of a god had taken root inside her, and a demigod grows within her belly. Already, the sorceress could feel the power springing forth from the little heart beating in her womb. She too shared in that power, that too she could feel and it was getting stronger every day. Just the week before, Polgara discovered that she could harness magical strengths previously unattainable to her. Fire, ice and lightning answered her call as they would with a student of the advanced arcane arts. It was as though the child thinned the veil of the Empyrean, granting its mother power as long as it remained connected to her.

She hadn't told Angronius yet, not while she wasn't quite certain of it.

Nightfall had come, her husband hadn't returned home. Polgara thought nothing of it, for the gladiator king's work was never done. There was always someone around the city in need of help. Some broken machinery, a failing crop, or some other dilemma that only a bright mind like Angronius' could solve. She was proud of him, that much she knew. But sometimes, Polgara couldn't help but feel neglected whenever he was away from her side.

It could be the loneliness, or just plain selfishness. None could blame her for feeling so, for a mere mortal like her to hold the heart of a god wasn't something that happened often. To guard him close was no sin, but rather, an obligation.

In truth, Polgara felt little security in their union. Often, she felt unworthy of Angronius' love. These dark thoughts would retreat deep into the forgotten recesses of her mind whenever Angronius touched her, but would always resurface whenever he was away. Her doubts whispered to her of how much she lacked, of how the gladiator king should never be shackled to a woman such as her. In her quietest moments, the whispers spoke so loud that they may as well have been voices in her head.

"No." Polgara told herself as she always did whenever the dark thoughts returned. Her hand touched the swell of her belly and she buried her doubts beneath a veneer of confidence. "I am his, and he is mine."

More often than not, a thinning of the veil was dangerous. If not for herself, more so for the baby.

Polgara shivered as she felt an unnatural chill creep down her spine. At first, she dismissed it as the nightly breeze blowing down from the hills, so she pulled her fur shawl tighter around her neck to warm herself up. She moved towards the kitchen to prepare dinner for herself and Angronius, but found that the air grew even colder. Frost was starting to form around the walls and ceiling, and the light of the lamps flickered violently as though the wind swirled within the house alone.

The dancing shadows cast by the flickering light swelled and warped into shades vaguely resembling the form of men. Their bodies were wrapped in black mists, their eyes were inhumanly white and glowed like the eyes of wolves.

Then, the lamps went out.

"Polgara Thal'kyr..." One of the shades spoke to her, in a voice laced with venom. "You will be coming with us..."

Polgara felt her breath quicken and her heart hammer against her ribcage. The sorceress slowly backed away and instinctively covered her belly with one hand, with the other she conjured a ball of flame. The shades looked upon the bright purple glow of the spell undeterred, then closed in on her from all sides. With a loud cry, Polgara bathed the entire kitchen in warpfire. "Leave me alone!"

Outside, Angronius had only just begun walking towards his home with a sack of fruits over his shoulder. His neighbor had given him half of his monthly produce as a gift, and the gladiator king received it with a hearty thanks. He couldn't wait until he got back to his wife with the promise of a full pantry.

Startled by the sudden explosion of purplish flames from the front side of his house, Angronius immediately dropped the sack and burst into a sprint forward. His feet trampled the fruits, but the gladiator king could care less about the food. He made his way through the hole in the wall, hands clenched into fists and ready to bludgeon all who would dare harm his beloved.

He found Polgara leaning heavily against what used to be a pillarstone of the house, upon which most of the weight of the stone structure rested upon. Several skulls were scattered atop the piles of black salt, burnt to a crisp by Polgara's spells no doubt.

"Eanna! Are you alright?" Angronius cried, seizing her by the shoulders as he looked her over. "What happened?"

"I-I... I don't know..." Polgara stammered tearfully, "Those things, the shades you fought before, they came for me!"

Angronius' eyes narrowed, for he knew who was responsible for this. "Acraesius."

Who else could afford to use such an expensive and underhanded means to obtain what he desired most- the end of the gladiator king Angronius? Truly, the emperor had no restraints whatsoever. The only thing Angronius couldn't understand was why he wanted him dead so badly. He could only assume that his revolt sent ripples throughout the Nucerian Empire that sowed seeds of rebellion among the oppressed souls beneath its banner.

There were loud mechanical growls coming from behind the house, followed by the horrid sounds of metal teeth cutting into flesh and the gurgled screams of a dying war hound. Then, loud and heavy footsteps accompanied the ugly rumble of chain-axes as an unknown assailant boldly strode into the gladiator king's humble abode.

A tall figure, easily towering above Angronius by a head and a half, emerged brandishing a bloody gladius and a rumbling chain-axe slick with gore. His body was a mass of living, pulsing metal coils so monstrously conjoined with what little flesh he had left. The stoic iron mask, a crude representation of Sol, beheld the fugitive slave and his wife with clear murderous intent.

"Ah...Ang..." His robotic voice strained to form coherent words, "Angronius... rebel...pup."

He squeezed the shaft of his chain-axe and fell upon the unarmed gladiator king. Realizing that his faithful hound had been killed, Angronius let out a furious roar and met the cyber-warrior head-on, fists against steel. The monster brought down his axe first, then drew his sword back for a quick thrust. Angronius caught the chain-axe by its shaft with both hands and yanked it away, braving the gladius along with the pain of its steel sliding through his lowest ribs.

The gladiator king grunted, surmounting the agony of his wound to drive his left elbow into the cyber-warrior's face. The force of his blow shattered the iron visage, revealing enough of his face for Angronius to see.

For a brief moment, horror replaced fury as Angronius realized what had been done to the former Champion of Sol. Cannicus' body had been altered so much that the man was a shell of his former and glorious self. More golem than man, the abomination required a permanent solution. It would be a final kindness, one that Angronius was all too eager to impart.

Cannicus put his free hand against the pommel and pushed it further, but was stopped by Angronius, who put his own hand against the former champion's forearm. The two giants wrestled and pushed against one another like two stones in a grinding mill. The floor cracked and caved in under the strain of their powerful legs, but the match was not balanced. Angronius fought with the strength of a hundred men, but had to fight with a grievous injury all the while.

Cannicus had no such limits, and he was hellbent as ever on killing his rival.

Angronius knew this and his concern for his wife far exceeded his thoughts for self-preservation, "Polgara! Run!"

The stubborn woman would rather risk death than to let her husband fight alone. She did not run. The cyber-warrior stopped short when he noticed Polgara out of the corner of his eye. The sorceress was preparing to cast a spell, and so he released his grip on the sword to sidestep the bolt of lightning shot from her hands. It was all the distraction Angronius needed to pull the gladius out of his body and arm himself with Cannicus' weapon.

Now, it was the assailant's turn to fight unarmed. Or so Angronius thought.

In one fluid motion, Cannicus ripped away the remnants of his helm and opened his mouth. A powerful sonic blast burst the gladiator king's eardrums and sent him staggering back, dazed and half-deaf. His head swam, and he could do little against the cyber-warrior's rebuttal as Cannicus drove his knee into Angronius' chin. He followed up with a savage kick to the giant's midsection and the gladiator king flew back towards the stone wall, easily turning it into a pile of rubble on impact.

In whatever was left of his mind, Cannicus found great joy in fighting a fellow gladiator. The battle was good, the kill that would come soon after would be glorious.

Polgara felt fatigue set itself upon her limbs the more spells she casted, but she refused to give up the fight. Not while Angronius' life was in danger. She dared the former champion's wrath by enwreathing him in warpfire. Of course, the same trick rarely works twice. All she managed to do was get Cannicus' attention.

The cyber-warrior strode forward, never minding the flames eating at his body. He didn't need a weapon for what he planned to do next. Cannicus stepped up to Polgara, grabbed her by the neck and drew his free hand back.

The next instant, Polgara felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Cannicus had stabbed his fingers into her belly and gradually began working his way into her body. She could feel him reaching for her entrails, intent on ripping them out along with the unborn child nestling within her. Breathless with the excruciating agony of being slowly torn apart, Polgara couldn't even utter a scream. All she could think of was how much she had to get away, and instinct did the rest of the work.

Gathering all the pain and drawing from the powers of the Warp, Polgara unleashed a torrent of suffering manifesting as a wriggling mass of contorting, squirming black brambles that grew from within the cyber-warrior's body until he was practically bursting with coiling, serpent-like thorned vines.

It wasn't enough to kill the abomination, but it was enough for him to let Polgara go. He released his grip on her and struggled to tear out the offending vines growing out of his arms and chest. The sorceress dropped to the ground, helplessly clutching at the horrid gashes in her stomach out of which an uncontrollable river of blood poured from.

"EANNA!" Polgara heard Angronius roar. She saw her husband struggle to get out of the pile of rubble he'd been pushed into, vaguely witnessed through her blackening vision the Red Maiden step into the scene of carnage with her battle cat.

The giant dune prowler finished off the dying cyber-warrior by biting down on his head and ripping it off his shoulders. Sonjita added a thrust or two from her sword to make sure he was dead, then turned to look at the gladiator king who was on his knees before his wounded queen.

The Red Maiden's eyes widened and she looked distraught at the grievous injuries inflicted upon Polgara. The woman would not live to see the morning sun without a healer's aid, and there was none to be found for miles around. The closest would be at Vendhayana.

Angronius knew it was pointless, but he called for aid nonetheless as he bound the wounds as best as he could. Polgara was too weak to cast any spells for herself, and every minute that passed she was slipping closer and closer to death's door.

"Angronius… there might be a chance for her…" Sonjita offered, revealing a treasured secret of hers that she hadn't revealed to anyone in a long time. "A slim one, but…"

"Tell me!" Angronius begged desperately, "What must be done?"

"You must follow me to the peak of Mt. Khyaltuwa. There, Polgara might find salvation." The Red Maiden sheathed her sword, "But we must hurry. Come, we will ride together until the path ends. Then, we will climb."

"So be it, then." Angronius agreed, throwing away all caution as he gently picked up his wife and followed the Red Maiden to the holy mountain.