Chapter 5

Old friends Old enemies

Cathak Shinjen eyed the natives of Chiaroscuro contemptuously.  Those few that still infested the inn sat alone at a table near the back.  The people here had not been happy at the sight of a full legion landing on their docks, and this lot was no exception.  He could see dour glares over their multicolored veils, and he glared back.  Let a single one of them say a word, and he would spit them all like dogs.  Some members of House Cathak took a sort of elder sibling view of Realm tributaries, but he was not one of them.  These people were savages, and their only worth could be measured in the tribute that they paid.

“Shinjen, attend me.” His uncle Tarkene demanded.  The general had confiscated several blocks of this wretched city for his troops, and has chosen this particular inn to house his officers.  He had called a meeting that was scheduled to start shortly, and appeared to be brooding over something he planned to discuss.

“Of course, Uncle.  What can I do for you?” Shinjen asked politely.  He rarely acknowledged anyone an equal, and almost never admitted anyone to be his superior.  General Tarkene was the exception, and Shinjen honestly respected the man.  The aging Exalt was formidable in combat, and many considered him to be House Cathak’s finest general.  His reputation had been paid for with both blood and deeds, and even in Shinjen’s short time under his Uncle he had learned much.

“I have a task for you, and before I formally announce it I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“What is it, Uncle?” Shinjen asked, unable to contain his eagerness.

“You will take your Dragon, and pursue this Anathema through the desert.  Our informers claim that he left the city three days ago, and that he was heading south.  When you catch him you will have one of your sorcerer’s send word.”

“When should I leave?”

“At first light.  I want you on his trail as quickly as possible.  I also want you to send me word at the slightest hint of trouble.”

Shinjen didn’t like the idea that his Uncle felt the need to check up on him, but at least he was being trusted to lead his men outside of Tarkene’s direct sight.

“Of course, Uncle.  I will send daily reports.  But, where are you taking the rest of the legion?”

“We will be heading overland to the plains of the southwest.  Andrani was stationed there for the last three years, and I can’t think of any place more likely for him to go.”

“And you think that this Anathema is going to return to Andrani?

“Without a doubt, Nephew.  If he somehow eludes you, then I will be there waiting when he arrives.  Then, both he and Andrani will no longer trouble the Realm.”

“Ingenious, Uncle.  I have no doubt that we will be successful.”

“Of course we will.  We are the 11^th legion, and we have support of heaven.”

 

 

 

 

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Marette was engrossed in an account of the final days of the Old Realm that had been penned by The Wanderer.  It contained a wealth of knowledge about the first age, but more than once she had to stop and puzzle out a word that she didn’t know.  Many were unfamiliar to her, and she could only assume that they referred to wonders lost to the modern day.

Her reading was interrupted by the return of one of the lion dogs.  Despite his massive size he moved across the marble floors in near silence, and she was unaware of his presence until he spoke.

“Terrestrial, Telrin’s heir wishes you to attend him outside.  He asked that you bring your things.  We must act quickly.” The beast turned and lumbered back down the corridor.

“Wait!  What’s going on?” she called futilely.

Oh well, she had no choice but to follow.  She picked up the journal and the two spell books left by Celene, and took the Lunar’s silvery staff in her other hand.  She hadn’t had time to study it yet, but with time and patience she was confident that she could unlock most of its secrets.

Marette made her way after the lion dog, and was out of breath by the time she emerged from the temple.  In the last few feet she nearly tripped over some rubble, and wondered briefly where the chunks of Jade had come from. Outside the sun was beginning to set, and its departure left a bloody hue over the sands surrounding the massive first age pyramid.  Looking around she saw Drevin, and nearly gasped in shock.

Their camels had been ripped apart, and he was gathering what remained of their supplies in the sand not far away.  He looked up at her approach, and she could see by his grim expression that something horrible had happened.  The lion dog was pacing near some deep tracks that led off to the west.

“Drevin, by the gods, what happened?”

“I don’t know all the details, but from what the guardian tells me Aleri awoke something that has been imprisoned her for millennia.”

“What is it?  And where is she?”

“Perhaps I can answer that, Terrestrial” the guardian spoke with intense grief. “Long ago when the Gods and their Exalted servants waged war against the Primordials Maladrieve was forged. 

“She began her service to the Yozis as a Solar, but was corrupted by their infernal powers.   She led their armies against us in many battles, and countless people fell under her blade.  Time and again we tried to kill her, and yet even the most skilled Night Caste failed.

“Yet we refused to give up, and the fateful day came where she met her equal.  The great Solar Ai faced her on the field of battle, and used his mighty bow to lay her low.  At first we thought her dead, and we rejoiced as we pushed back the forces of the Yozis.

“Yet we were wrong.  Maladrieve had not died, but had instead been saved by her infernal masters.  In a most horrible ritual they forged her very soul into a suit of armor.  It is whispered that the blood of innocent children was used to quench the metal, and that she corrupts all who see her.”

“It gets worse.” Drevin interrupted, “Maladrieve possesses anyone who dons the armor.”

“And Aleri put this armor on?” Marette asked in horror, but she had her answer from the grim look on Drevin’s face.

“So now we have to hunt her down, and somehow remove the armor.” He said.

“How? Our camels are dead, and it looks like she took the water.”

“Mighty Solar I am quite swift, and I do not know fatigue.  I would be honored if you let me bear you into combat against the one who has slain my brother.”

“Alright,” he replied after a moment, “But when we reach this Maladrieve you leave her to me.  You need to return and guard this place in case others should come.  Marette and I were pursued, and I don’t want the Wyld Hunt finding this place.”

“As you command, my lord.”

The guardian knelt in the sand, and she clambered up on his back.  Drevin sat behind her, and she felt a little comforted as his arms wrapped around her.  Then they were racing through the desert, and true to his word the lion dog did not tire.  Late into the night they raced, and eventually she could keep her eyes open no longer.

 

 

 

 

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Despite his earlier bravado Drevin was worried.  This Maladrieve had killed one of the lion dogs already, and from everything he knew was exceedingly powerful.  Yet despite the risk he had to try.  Indirectly this evil had returned to the world because of him, and he would do everything in his power to set things right.  Such was his responsibility to the Unconquered Sun, and he would not shirk his duty.

Marette had finally fallen asleep not too long ago, and he cradled her carefully in his arms as the lion dog continued to hurl forward over the sand.  The spirit beast moved incredibly fast, and never seemed to tire or slow.  The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon when the terrain began to change.  The sand was still present, but the dunes were shorter and there were more signs of life. 

Here and there was the occasional tenacious shrub or bush, and even in the predawn light he could make out lizards moving amongst the now rockier ground.  The lion dog pulled up abruptly, and Drevin scanned the horizon to see what had caused the delay.  He didn’t see anything that would be cause for alarm.

“Maladrieve is close, mighty Zenith.”

Drevin dropped to the ground with Marette still in his arms.  She began to stir at the sudden movement, and he gestured for her to be silent as soon as she was awake.  She met his gaze and nodded silently, then rose into a crouch to look around.  He stepped away, and drew Kyo-Jun from its sheath.  The golden blade glittered with an inner light, and he could feel her desire to confront Maladrieve.  He crept forward quietly, and tried to move from rock to rock so as not to be seen.

“Your attempts at stealth are worthless, Solar.  You may as well come out and face me.” Boomed a voice unlike any he had ever heard.  It was painful to listen to, and he could not clearly tell either gender or age from the words.

Drevin adjusted his Orichalum shield, and stepped out from the rocks.  Perhaps thirty feet away stood a demonic suit of plate the color of dried blood.  It’s form hurt to look upon, and he felt the revulsion that he imagined any solar would upon seeing it.  In the thing’s left hand it held a Grand Daiklaive that was a slightly darker hue than the armor itself, and the infernal creation looked fully prepared to use it.

“So, have you come to claim me?  You know that together we could remake this world into whatever form you wish.”

“No, I have come to return you to your imprisonment, Infernal.”

“Very well.  I regret having to kill you, but you leave me no choice.” Maladrieve assumed a combat stance, and waited for his advance.

He moved slowly and carefully toward his adversary.  Drevin had no idea what the thing was capable of, and didn’t want to underestimate it.  When he was a mere ten feet away it spoke again.

“I will drag your soul down to Ligier, you know.  Perhaps he will forge me a new shield…”

“I beat you once before, Maladrieve.  I’ll do it again.” Drevin spoke boldly, but his confidence didn’t extend past his words.

“Ah, but before you had a great deal of help as I recall.  Now, it is just you.” With his final word Maladrieve leapt forward, and brought Soulflayer down in a great swing.  Drevin pivoted, and brought Kyo-Jun smoothly up to block.  The two blades met in a shower of sparks, and the smaller solar nearly lost his footing from the tremendous blow.  He danced back to gain maneuvering room, but his foe continued to advance.

“Running already?” Maladrieve laughed, and then launched another swing with his massive blade.  This time Drevin leapt over it, and brought his own Daiklaive down in a strike on his foe’s unprotected arm.  It bit deeply into the armor, but no blood flowed from the wound.  Before he could recover a demonic arm shot out and grabbed his neck.

Maladrieve lifted him high into the air, and slammed him into a boulder with bone shattering force.  He managed to twist in the air to avoid breaking his back, but the impact was still painful.  He rolled to his feet quickly, and narrowly avoided another swipe from Soulflayer.  For a moment he hesitated as something tickled the back of his mind, but then he remembered at last.

With a thought he channeled his essence into Kyo-Jun.  She burst into white-hot flame, and those flames reached out to engulf him as well.  They mingled with his Anima, and Maladrieve stepped back before the conflagration.  Now it was his turn.

Drevin called upon his magic, and willed himself into a whirlwind of blazing steel.  He launched attack after attack, and more than a few struck home.  Yet none of his blows seemed to affect his opponent.  Maladrieve gave ground before the furious assault, and when Drevin slowed launched her own counterattack.

Her blade shattered a rock where his head had been a moment before, and then clipped his shoulder above his shield.  The wound was shallow, but he could feel it burning as if acid had been poured on it.  Growing desperate he leapt to a boulder several feet above his opponent.  She brought Soulflayer around in a wide slash, and his perch crumbled under him.  He tumbled to the ground, and managed to land behind Maladrieve.  Before she could turn he jabbed Kyo-Jun up into her back with all his strength.  It lodged deeply into the armor, but when his infernal opponent turned to face him the hilt was ripped from his grasp. 

The flames that had surrounded him vanished.  She seized him about the neck with one gauntleted hand, and the spikes dug into his flesh.  The other she used to pull his blade from her back, and she tossed it casually to the ground.

“Now it ends, Solar.” Maladrieve shoved Soulflayer through his chest, and then ripped the blade out.  He was blinded with pain, and knew that he was dying.  Yet, even at the last he was a servant of the Unconquered Sun.  He would not die alone.

Drevin channeled vast amount of essence into his anima.  It flared outward and engulfed Maladrieve in the cleansing light of the sun.  She dropped him and fell back, and the last thing he heard was an earth-rending shriek of pain from his opponent.  He smiled, and then knew no more.

 

 

 

 

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Marette watched the fight from the shelter of a cluster of boulders not far away.  She saw that Drevin was overmatched from the start, but watched as he valiantly fought on.  It was her own heart that was pierced when Maladrieve ran him through, and she felt his agony as the Infernal thing flung him to the ground.

Then the beast fell back before Drevin’s anima, and the demon’s pain echoed for miles around them.  Maladrieve turned and ran, and her friend was left to bleed where he lay.  Marette rushed to his side, and saw immediately that his wound was too grievous to survive.  She placed her hands gently around the gaping hole in his chest, and used her essence to seal the wound as best she could.  Whatever dark magic had made the wounds seemed to resist her touch, but she had some measure of success.  Drevin’s breathing eased, and the flow of blood slowed to a trickle.

She ran back to the place that the lion dog had dropped them, and grabbed several blankets.  If she could keep him warm until morning he would have a better chance.  She raced back and covered him gently.  Then she set about starting a fire, and fortunately was able to find enough shrubbery to sustain it for the night.  Marette kept a lonely vigil over her friend, and willed him to recover.  She was so focused on him that she didn’t even hear the approach of the rider, and was completely surprised when she spoke.

“What happened to him?” asked a tall rider on a midnight steed.  Whoever it was wore Soulsteel armor from head to toe, and was undoubtedly a servant of the Deathlords.  She drew the rapier that Drevin had given her, and tried to assume a threatening posture.  The figure gave a decidedly feminine laugh, and pulled off her helmet.  Auburn hair spilled out, and she was shocked to see that this Death Knight was a beautiful woman.  Her features were delicate and well refined, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I am not here to harm him.  Now tell me, what happened?” The rider asked as she dismounted.

“Who are you?” she countered suspiciously.

“My name is Jenora, and I come as a friend.  But, my patience is limited, Terrestrial.  What happened?”

“He fell fighting an Infernal creation named Maladrieve.”

“Maladrieve?” Jenora asked with surprise evident on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, but Drevin drove it off.”

“Quite a feat for a newly born Solar.  You have examined his wounds.  Will he live?”

“I think so.  I mean, yes he will.” She stammered.

“You sound as if you are trying to convince yourself.” Jenora reached over her saddle, and withdrew a canteen. “Give him some of this.”

“What foul concoction is that?”

“Water.” The Abyssal replied dryly.

Marette opened it and sniffed the contents, then tasted it.  It was water, and that was just what Drevin needed.  She wet the corner of a scarf, and dribbled it into his mouth.  He was thrashing about now, as if it some dark dream.

“Is it safe to move him?” Jenora asked.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then help me get him on my horse.”

“Alright,” Marette agreed reluctantly, “But why are you helping us?”

“I am not helping you.  I am helping him.” Was all she said.

 

 

 

 

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“Telrin, look there!” Jenora called over the din of battle.  The stunningly beautiful Solar was drenched in blood, but it ran off her Orichalum plate like water.  She was pointing up a rise to where their enemy was thickest.  In their midst he could see the Infernal Maladrieve cleaving a path towards them.

The two Solar fought their way towards each other.  Surrounding them were hordes of their lesser brethren, the Terrestrial Exalted.  The forces of the Yozis were flung back by their combined fury, and eventually they stood shoulder to shoulder.

“If we can kill Maladrieve,” Telrin called, “Then we have won here!”

Maladrieve led this portion of the Yozi host, and they had been charged by the Deliberative with killing her.  Always before she had escaped, but not this time.  The two life long friends cleaved through demon and mortal alike, and many of their foes fell back in terror before them.

Jenora raised her Daiklaive of Conquest, a recent gift from the Solar Deliberative, and pointed again.  There was their prey, not fifty feet away.  Telrin leapt forty feet into the air, and fell on their target like a blazing comet…

Drevin awoke in pain.  His chest throbbed, and for some reason he couldn’t seem to force his muscles to move.  After a few tries he raised himself into a sitting position and looked around.  He was on a blanket in a small hut that looked to be made from branches bundled together.  Sunlight filtered through small holes in the hay used to thatch the structure, and the floor was nothing more than dirt.

Next to him were Kyo-Jun, his shield and his breastplate.  From its smell he found a chamber pot on the far side of the room, and he made use of it.  He was clad in nothing more than cotton pants, and bandages swaddled his entire waist.  Even in the shaded hut he could feel the heat of the day, but it was less oppressive than what he had experienced in the desert.  He pushed open the blanket covering the entryway, and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

“Drevin, you’re awake!” called a familiar voice.  He turned to see Marette leaving a shady spot underneath a tree to greet him.  She was reading one of the tomes that they had found in the temple, and from the look of it was almost finished.  Not far from her he saw another woman, and had to do a double take.

If you exchanged her Soulsteel for Orichalum she would be the identical twin of the woman in the dream that he had just had.  She met his gaze for a moment, and then nodded slightly in greeting.

“How are you feeling?  For a while there we weren’t sure that you were going to make it.” Marette asked, and he reverted his attention to her.

“I feel like a Yeddim stepped on me.  What happened to Maladrieve?”

“She fled back into the desert after you fell.”

“Then she escaped.” Drevin’s words were tinged with bitterness.

“Perhaps, but you are alive.  You are lucky that she didn’t kill you, but then you always were reckless.” Spoke another familiar voice behind him.  It was the voice that he had just heard in his dreams.

“Hello, Jenora.”

“You know her?” Marette asked.

“Once I think I did, but the woman I knew was a comrade.  Now I see only a servant of the Malfeans.”

“I will always be your friend Telrin, or whatever you call yourself these days.”

“Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

“I have come to offer you an alliance with my master, and I bring a gift.”

“I am not interested.” He turned to go, but suddenly remembered his promise to Grandmother Bright.  Someone would come to him with a gift, and he was bound to hear her out.

“Are you certain?” Jenora asked, and Drevin turned to face her.  He read both sadness and resolve in her eyes.

“Very well, I will hear what you have to say.”

The Deathknight looked relieved. “Mask of Winters offers you an alliance against the Realm.  This is a token of his goodwill.”

She handed him an ornately carved mahogany box about two feet long.  Curious, he opened it and peered inside.  A beautifully tooled horn rested in the box.  It was covered in Orichalum runes, and he felt a memory of it tickling the back of his mind.

“The Horn of the Dawn.” He said in awe.  Armies had fallen before the call of this mighty artifact.

“Yes, truly a kingly gift, Drevin.” Jenora interjected. “What of the alliance?”

“I cannot commit to your Lord, but I will offer a truce.  If he does not hinder me, then I will not hinder him.”

“Fair enough.  We accept.”  She turned and began walking back to her mount.

“Wait, where are you going, Jenora?” he asked.

“To find my husband.” She said curtly as she mounted her sleek black stallion.  Then she was off, and he was left holding his gift.  Why had the Deathlord sought him out, and why offer him such a powerful gift?  From what little he remembered the horn bestowed the blessing of the Unconquered Sun upon an entire army while at the same time instilling the enemy with doubt.

Drevin found the situation troubling.  Perhaps the price that he paid to Grandmother Bright had been higher than he once thought.

 

 

 

 

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Maladrieve stumbled across the desert sands, and fell heavily to her knees.  The host that sustained her had taken a mortal wound from the battle with Telrin’s heir, and would be dead in a few hours at most.  She had been very careful not to siphon any more energy from the doomed mortal than was necessary, but she still had very little time.  She needed a new host, and she needed it soon.

Then she saw it.  A great cloud of dust rose in the distance, and having led many hosts in the past she knew it was caused by hundreds of marching feet.  She forced herself to her feet, and began marching towards them.  Fortunately, they were going west and she didn’t have far to go to interject herself in their path. 

She waited until she was sure that they would see her, and then collapsed heavily to the ground.  She bled her host dry of its remaining essence, and waited for the men to approach.  Before long a scout spotted her, and she heard him shout back to the lines.  The host halted, and several officers approached her.

One of them, a fiery Terrestrial Exalted, bubbled with power.  He was perfect.  Young, inexperienced, and most importantly full of potential.  When he was close enough she reached out and caressed his mind.  She made herself beautiful in his eyes, and after a moment she knew she had him.

 

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