One Thing After The Other

The soldiers that should have been guarding the wall were petrified in stone, unable to do their duty. Jumping over them, Lumia leapt through the crushed gate behind them, landing softly in the courtyard.

Five royal guards stood facing away from the castle door. Across from them, a single mage in black grab stood fiddling with something small in his hands.

Someone was pulling the oak doors shut but I couldn't see who. "Hold him here," the man shouted, "I have to help the queen!"

I recognized the voice. It was Vorlin, but I couldn't get to him.

One of the guards stepped forward, raising his sword and preparing to strike.

"Don't take one more step, or I swear by all that is sacred, I'll rip your heart from your chest," he said, his eyes burning bright with anger as he settled into a sword stance.

The man in black simply laughed. Then he took a step without looking up from whatever was in his hands.

"Final warning!" The guard shouted as his knuckles whitened from tightening around his blade.

The man in black appeared dismissive as he took another step, then another and another.

By the time he'd stopped, he was standing with his chest against the point of the guard's blade.

"So, go on then," he scoffed.

Raising his blade, the guard let out a hair raising scream, but when he brought it down, his weapon split open a white helmet.

One of the other guards stood facing the commander as blood and clear liquid spilled down his back.

The black mage stood among the line smiling like a fool as he tried but failed to hold back a laugh. "You idiot, did you actually think it would be so easy?"

The wounded guard stumbled backward then fell, his brain oozing out through a gash in his helmet.

The commander stammered backward as well, his sword arm trembling.

"Honestly, even the way you die is unsightly." The black mage complained as he flashed behind the commander. "Let me show you how it's done."

A sick smile spread across his face as he touched the guards neck. Color faded from the man's face and his grip loosened until the sword fell from his hand. A moment later, all that remained was a dried out husk, but when the black mage removed his finger, even that crumbled into dust.

With a metallic clang, the commander's armor crashed against the ground. The other three guards rushed toward Lumia and I, clearly intent on escape, but the mage clapped his hands and they were pulled back toward him.

"You had such bravado, where did it all go?" He asked, sounding genuinely disappointed. "What happened to your courage?"

He walked toward them, appraising them as they trembled.

I was trying to help, but I wasn't sure if I'd be quick enough, or strong enough. At the very least, I hoped I could weaken the mage enough that Lumia could finish him.

My tether was almost in place, but it broke apart the moment it should've locked around his core.

He must've felt it because his gaze snapped toward me, a certain curiosity in his expression. "You aren't the vessel…but you bear a resemblance."

In his moment of distraction, the guards fled. I was certain he could have stopped them, but he paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on me as if everything else was insignificant.

"What does the name, Liriel, mean to you?"

Liriel… I'd heard that name before, but I couldn't recall any details or a face.

I shrugged. "Not much. But what does it matter? You're here—slaughtering my people. You threaten my homeland…and all just to ask about some random name?" I said, sliding down from Lumia's back.

"Yes… clearly you don't understand his importance."

I crept right, away from Lumia and the mage took the bait. He followed my every move and completely ignored the white dragon as she crept around behind him.

"Importance? The lives you've taken are far more valuable!"

He was still looking at me, but I didn't think he was listening. He muttered to himself, but all I could hear was "…but the resemblance, it's uncanny." the man shook his head. "…no, Liriel, would have—"

With a single bite, Lumia chomped off his head. His body fell on its knees, then flat on the ground with a dull thud.

Just then, the castle doors burst apart. My mother and Vorlin flew through the splintered wood as if propelled by a rocket. They land in the middle of the courtyard next to the dead mage. Vorlin's arms were wrapped protectively around the Queen, holding her head to his chest. Vorlin's green sword clanged on the ground beside them.

Another man in black robes stepped out of the castle, with a pale blue sword floating behind him. Calmly he scanned the scene.

He observed everything without showing any emotion.

Without hesitation I rushed to position myself between him and my family.

With a quick glance I could see that Vorlin was injured. His back was bloody and his arms covered in lacerations. He was doing his best to protect my mother, and from the looks of things, he'd done well. She didn't appear injured.

They were still recovering from the blast that sent them through the castle's door.

Because of the sword floating behind him, I assumed this man was a mage. Judging by his demeanor and the aura around him, I guessed that he was powerful. I tried to form another tether, but I didn't have enough mana. Even if I did I wasn't sure it would work.

The man finally spoke as he stopped about an arms length from me. "Get up, Sizal. Your games are an embarrassment."

I heard Lumia whimper, prompting me to turn toward her. The headless corpse had slapped her across the jaw, nocking her several steps to the side.

A small head was already growing from the stump of his neck, and it spoke. "Careful, beast, another me might grow inside you."

Lumia spat out the half chewed head.

Sizal—I assumed that was his name—erupted in cheerful laughter at the sight. "I'm just kidding. That lump of flesh is totally harmless now—or is it?" he said, finishing seriously, then bursting into laughter again.

"Sizal!" The other mage yelled.

"Right, right, sorry. No more games…but, I mean, why can't I have fun? You already have the target; the vessel hasn't returned with a dragon yet. There's nothing else to do."

The serious mage pointed towards the sky. Although the fog wasn't present on the ground, it still blocked the sky over the city.

"He comes now," the mage said. "Mind your tongue."

The fog hanging over the forest split to allow a black dragon's descent. The dragon was similar to Lumia in size, but the force of his mana was stronger than I remembered.

I recognized the obsidian beast, it was Borin.

I had assumed he sank with the mountain. He shouldn't have been able to regrow wings—at least that's what I assumed when I saw Lila's injury had not healed after our fight. Even if I was wrong, he definitely should've needed more time to recover and it didn't make sense for him to be stronger now either.

He looked slightly different now. Embedded in his neck, like a collar of rubies, there was a line of blood red gems. Not only that, but he seemed docile—void of emotion, almost.

I wasn't worried about his presence though, Lumia could probably handle him on her own if it came to that.

Borin dropped his weight on the ground, landing with a loud thump and sending tremors throughout the earth. From his back a man in a black cloak slid down.

The man wasn't wearing any armor, only the dingy and torn cloak. The skin over his face was stretched thin and so pale that I was sure no blood flowed in his veins.

Unmistakably, I recognized him as my uncle Vale. He looked far worse than the last time I saw him, appearing sickly thin and older than time itself.

The two mages in black robes went down on a knee as Vorlin and my mother scrambled to their feet.

"Lord Liriel, welcome." Both men said in unison.

"Vale," My mother hissed. "What is the meaning of this, who are these men?"

He ignored her, instead turning to look directly at me. His gaze was intense and frightening.

"All these years, and finally I can speak to you."

He stepped towards me but I recoiled away from him.

"Your reaction is understandable. From your perspective I'm nothing but a villain, and yet I have longed to meet you for many years."

"Silvon, don't listen to him." Vorlin roared.

"You look so much like me, when I was alive… well, not the gold hair or the silver eyes. I lacked Mirin's blessing, but otherwise looking at you is like looking in a mirror."

A spark flashed in my mother's eye, it was brief, but I caught it. Vorlin grabbed his sword from the ground and pointed it at my uncle.

I was drawing in mana as quickly as possible to restore my reserves, then the man asked, "How did you like my spell?"

"Your spell?" My face twisted as I tried to make sense of his words.

"Ah, your victory was sweet. It filled me with pride."

The black mage with the floating sword stood stepped forward. "Lord Liriel, I don't mean to interrupt this reunion, but you do have a schedule to keep," he said, raising an eyebrow.

My uncle nodded. "Unfortunately yes, but first…" he turned back towards me "…if you wish to know the truth, then come with me." He extended a hand as he spoke.

I didn't take it, instead moving closer to my mother.

"That's a shame," Vale said with a sigh.

He pulled Zolmann's cane from dimensional storage and pounded it into the ground. A sickly wave of black and red mana flowed out from its base, corrupting the forest plants with its energy.

"Truly, I had hope." My uncle's dried lips cracked as they pulled into a frown. "You're so much like I was back then, even trusting in the shallow affections of this elf…" he looked from my mother to me, making direct eye contact. "Riona, doesn't know love, Silvon. She is only an actor."

My mother gritted her teeth as she glared bitter at my uncle.

Vorlin raced toward the cane, his sword drawn.

My uncle rolled his eyes, scoffing as Vorlin approached.

"So hasty." Sizal said with a look of pleasure.

None of them moved to stop him.

When Vorlin's blade struck the cane it didn't slice through. Instead it stuck against the black shaft and dark mana consumed his body.

Tears blurred my vision as I watched the man who raised me consumed in the black mist. Every fiber of his being was ripped apart leaving nothing behind.

My mother tuned to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Silvon, you have to leave Faerelle."

I nodded. Pulling my mother toward Lumia. "Can you carry us both?" I asked.

Pulling away, my mother said, "No, Silv… I can't go." Tears filled her eyes as she continued, "Please Silv, go to the—"

A shallow squelching noise cut her words short. Her face contorted as she looked down and blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. I hesitated to follow her gaze, but couldn't stop myself from looking down.

My eyes squeezed shut at the sight of a green blade through her abdomen. Blood seeped along its edge from her exposed midriff, dripping from the tip and soaking into the grass beneath us.

I gasped for breath as pain seized my chest. Unable to focus on anything else, I stumbled backward falling on my ass.

My uncle and the two black mages were speaking, but their words amounted to garbled noise to me. One of them, Sizal reached toward me, then Lumia leapt between us and knocked him away with her tail.

Vale and the other mage both rushed at her, but she grabbed me, gently, in her claws and flew away.

I was too stunned to react or think; I couldn't even feel fear.