Chapter Sixteen

After the incident with her dream and the nose ring, Mora didn’t have another dream of Joliel. After giving Amadagu the ring and his disappearing for the day, he promised her she would have them no longer. While he offered nothing else, his eyes held a weight she didn’t understood. She wanted to be free and take revenge on the beast, but the druid stated they had to translate the Seer’s words first. Everything else would have so wait.

Day after day they continued to poor through Amadagu’s writings. In a week they had found nothing. Each morning followed the same routine, Nohric would arrive with Delvakhan and would state how they needed to mobilize the people and at least attempt to stop the onslaught of the Rhiyan legions. In response the druid would only say ‘not until we at least have it’, never explaining any further.

Amadagu read more than the others, always sending them for one text or another, which typically meant Mora. Delvakhan and Nohric were always looking at maps of the area and talking strategies. Keeping their same schedule, they began practicing combat again. Mora couldn’t help noticing errors in stance and action. Everything they did was based off of brawn. There was a key elements missing. Carefully Mora stepped in and offered an alternative to their moves. While Nohric remained skeptical, Delvakhan however was quick to take to her moves.

Continuing to train the king, Mora became absorbed quickly going into the advanced moves she taught all of her legion. Pushing her charge he responded well to the new moves. His adaptation quickly brought about strikes and counters that were not only fast but typically caused her to take a step back to adjust for the strength of the blow. With her urging, she convinced Delvakhan to finally get his actual weapon so the moves would feel familiar to him.

Taking the chance to catch her breath, Mora looked up and found Amadagu watching them as well.

“He is a quick study isn’t he?” Nohric asked.

“Indeed.” Mora responded. “The speed in which he adapts is pretty extraordinary.”

“He is a child of prophecy, it is always that way.” Amadagu interjected.

“To the shadows with the mystical, it is simply rich in his bloodline. No amount of will could alter the training he has gone through or that of his kin. It’s natural to us.” Nohric stated with pride.

“Unfortunately, you are always looking for strength. There is more to a fight than just strength.” Mora added. “There must be balance of each. Strength to counter strength yet combats the agile. Thusly, agility to counter agility and combat the strong. If you are lacking either one you will lose. This is what makes the legions so strong; Berric’s strength and my agility.”

“I have never faced a legion. Fending off the assassin teams however became a way of life for us of the South. Young Delva was sent away to keep them from them.” Nohric stated.

“Ministry protocol, something neither Berric nor I cared much about. It was left to Tolin to handle the gifted. Too often those with the will simply caused more destruction than could be allowed. That and a fear of him.” She stated as she pointed to Amadagu who had returned to reading.

“There is a healthy fear of him throughout the entire South as well. The only thing we fear more is...”

“Dragon’s.” Mora interrupted him.

Both looked at each other and laughed realizing the similarities between them. Mora stood impressed of her adversary. His knowledge and battle prowess she felt matched her own. She couldn’t stop the nagging thought he would have been a good King for the south over the boy that continued to make her uncomfortable.

When Delvakhan finally returned, holding his weapon up for her to see, Mora was immediately entranced by it. The blade itself almost seemed to hum as it cut through the air. Watching her, Delvakhan held it up for her to get a closer look. Its hilt bore symbols and sigils she had never seen before; except for one. Casting her eyes toward the druid, she found him staring at the blade from his seat.

“Where did you get that from?” Amadagu demanded as he stood up and approached them. “I haven’t seen this for an eon.”

“Its mine. My mother had it.” Delvakhan stated defensively pulling it slightly out of view.

“Bohr Wethrin.” Amadagu almost whispered.

“Wait, Bohr Wethrin, the thing Death fears?” Mora stated in shock.

“The very same thing Tagor spoke of.” Amadagu stated still almost in a whisper. I remember when Kunellos and I made this so Zhandoga would be returned to the demon pit.”

“Bah the demons are a myth. I have never seen a demon Ama.” Mora cut in. “Our oldest legends talk about a demon but only when others speak of Rhiya in a physical form.”

“I can promise you it is not a myth. Zhandoga was a demon.” The druid stopped and suddenly got up and grabbed one of his tomes. Opening it, he set it down in front of them.

“I can’t read this.” Nohric stated. “I don’t know that language.”

“I can’t either.” Mora answered.

“Zhandoga, Fiend of Death, Master of the Pit, Scourge of Terra can only be summoned with life’s blood taken without life passing. Once life has begun, from the bloodied soil surrounded in consuming blackness of a thousand souls, Zhandoga will emerge, sundering all in his path at the will of the Seom of Rhiya.” Delvakhan blurted out the words. Looking up in shock he looked up to Amadagu.

“Keep reading King of South.” Amadagu pointed to the tome.

“Destiny known and destiny accepted, the King of South must save the Chosen as the Empire crumbles.” Delvakhan stopped. “There isn’t anything more.

“How did he read that?” Nohric demanded.

“It was written for him only.” Amadagu answered.

“What does it mean then?” Delvakhan questioned. “I got the King of the South. What does the rest mean?”

“It means Joliel; the Seom of Rhiya has a copy of your work Amadagu and has brought Zhandoga back. And I helped him. But there was no blackness...” Mora began and stopped.

“The legion soldiers. They were the consuming blackness.” Amadagu added.

“My legion of one thousand was all dressed in their ceremonial black armaments. They were all around me as Joliel took me. In the end, I made this all happen.” Mora choked on her words.

“Lass you had no way of knowing.” Nohric placed his hand on her shoulder. “But I see the next step. We have to go face this Zhandoga before he gets to Tova and attacks the Empress and her child.”

“Do you know how hard it is to assault that mountain? Why do you think we held it for so long?” Mora interjected.

“I can promise you, we will have free passage in. I have long been in contact with the Emperor and his Empress through special means.” Nohric stated. “In fact when I picked up Delva here, I sent his guard to update her Grace. Sooner or later they will expect us, though under different circumstances.”

“But why is the Empire crumbling?” Delvakhan asked.

“I don’t know.” Amadagu answered as they all looked to him. “But if the Empire crumbles the south will never be able to survive. Legions of Rhiyans and a demon. By the Light this cannot come to pass.”

“It will take a month at least for all the forces to gather from the south.” Nohric answered in exasperation. “This is why I have been demanding leave to gather them.”

“You have your leave now. Delvakhan and I will head to Tova while you gather the south. Keep Mora and the child safe.” Amadagu answered quickly.

“I’m going as well. If I stay with Aura her death is certain. You will need me in battle. But you better keep her safe southlander.” Mora’s tears filled her eyes as she leaned her head into Nohric’s chest.

“And you keep the lad safe Mora. We will see you on the field.” His toothy grinned flashed from beyond his red beard.

Mora held his eyes for several moments looking for the one thing missing from her life. Mora was inside begging for hope.

****

Barely alive, broken in more ways than he could count anymore, Burakani could see the base path to Tova. For three days he fled from the countless army he wondered into. While he could see the mountain Tova rested on, his bearings to get there were completely lost as he avoided the towering trees that seemed to have voices.

It wasn’t long after that began trudging through the disgusting blackened ground that filled his senses with foul odor of death and decay. The army however seemed to be devoid of its existence, moving along it as if it empowered them. Before Burakani could find the ending edge, the army was encamped all around him. As the sun rose, the differences in their appearance gave him away and the pursuit began.

His first encounter left his arm broken and an eye no longer able to see beyond the swollen damage the mace had done to it. Yet he survived only to fight more. By the time the day had ended, Burakani lost all concepts of time and distance. At the ends of his barely working fingers, he could feel the pressure of caked dirt under his nails black and foul.

Looking up as several pairs of boots appeared before him, Burakani was relieved when he saw facial structures that were similar to his. While he saw their lips moving, he couldn’t understand a word as the ringing in his own ears would not quit.

Not sure if his words were heard, he forced himself to say them again and again.

“I am Prince Burakani, I must see the Empress.”