They descended from the sky. Losara set Tyrellan down amongst a group of Varenkai where he knew the First Slave would excel. Then lightfists’ spells shot towards him and he sent up a billowing ward, strong and dark. The attacks burst against it with the impacts of flies, yet excitement bubbled and his body began to sing. So this was what it was like! He both remembered the glorious feeling and experienced it for the first time – he was full, he was whole, and doing what he’d been born to do. Not only that, but with his Sprite blood awakened, everything seemed more vibrant, every detail clearer.
How many favours , he thought exuberantly, my enemies have done me!
Torrents of shadows poured off him, curling to seek Kainordans. He gestured at a sword sticking from the churned ground and it flew into his grip. Whooping, he ran at a Saurian on a dune claw, leaped into the air and hurtled along, swinging hard and ripping through the both of them, ecstatic as his warrior side melded perfectly with the mage. He landed to see a group of bows plying his troops with arrows, and released a mighty blue bolt that crackled with the sound of a thousand fires, turning them to a gaping hole. He saw wasps circling and flew upwards, zipping between them as he slashed them from the sky. The air around him whorled into a tornado.
Oh, how they fell, life after life, their souls streaming to Arkus’s well. They will be ours in the end , he thought. None could stand against him, now that he was truly himself. As enemy stocks dwindled, those remaining began to realise they faced something that was beyond them. They fled before him and he let them go, for no place in the world was far from his grasp.
And, as the sun began to set, he raised his sword high above his head and roared victory at the sky.
•
Tyrellan wended his way between scattered groups of shadow folk as the last Kainordans retreated. He found Losara standing as if in a daze, gazing out across the plains to the north. The butterfly circled down to land on a dented helmet, where it fluttered its colourful wings. Much to his surprise, Tyrellan found he did not care. Maybe because it reminded him of who he had killed to get it …or maybe he was simply beyond it.
‘My lord?’
Losara said nothing.
‘Shadowdreamer?’
Slowly Losara turned. He glanced at the sword in his hand, stared at it for a moment as if he didn’t recognise what it was, then cast it away.
‘We have defeated them,’ said Tyrellan. Around them Arabodedas, Vorthargs and the rest were beginning to realise this as well. Laughter began, and calls of triumph, and jubilation breaking out. ‘Lord? We are victorious.’
‘Just a little further,’ said Losara.
•
As they marched north, towns and cities lay empty behind them, evacuated or defeated. Losara had not yet thought he could allow mercy, but maybe here. Maybe now.
His collected forces stood at the base of the hill, looking up at the Open Halls. The Cloud that followed in their wake had fallen behind, as yet unable to cover this part of the world. Here the light still shone upon Kadass and the Open Halls, the last stronghold of its power.
‘This is where we met,’ said Jaya. She seemed somewhat haunted, and he didn’t like to see her so. Bloodshed made her anxious, he had realised – something that Bel alone had never picked up. Around her neck the Stone glinted, given to her for protection. It seemed only fitting, when Lalenda had Grimra’s pendant.
‘It is not my wish to destroy it,’ he told her, slipping his hand into hers reassuringly.
‘No,’ chimed in Lalenda. ‘I want to have a drink at this Wayward Dog of yours. If that is allowable?’
Jaya favoured her with an even stare, then nodded. ‘I would like that myself.’
As Lalenda turned back to watch the city, she unconsciously entwined her hand with Losara’s on his other side.
Tyrellan emerged from the Halls and rode down the hill, flanked by goblin guards. He passed a group of shadow mages who had finished breaking apart a ward stone and were moving on to another. On the walls of the Open Halls, Kainordans gathered to watch the swell of the shadow army at their doorstep.
‘What news?’ said Losara as the First Slave drew up.
‘I have spoken with a man called Thedd,’ replied Tyrellan. ‘It seems he is the closest thing they have to a leader.’
‘And does he agree?’
‘He agrees, lord.’
Losara breathed a sigh of relief. Then he wheeled his horse about, and injected power into his voice so it carried clearly over the assembled masses.
‘We have their surrender.’
An answering clamour rose as his people rejoiced, up to the heavens where the Cloud had begun to steal slowly towards them again …but something else was happening in the sky. Great dark shapes circled something bright, which jumped about as if trying to escape. The shapes blocked it at every turn, then suddenly rushed in to smother it. There sounded an unearthly howl, like a great pair of lungs on fire, loud enough that every owner of a pair of ears had to clutch them.
And then it stopped.
And then a great crack.
Losara watched as the dark blotches receded, nothing remaining in their wake. One seemed to stretch long for a moment, serpent-like …and then they were but vapour, drifting away.
‘The Great Well of Arkus,’ breathed Losara, ‘is broken.’
Something in his heart railed at the notion. There would be little fighting now, he knew. The Dark Gods would empty Arkus’s Well into their own, where souls would now return on death regardless of how they’d come into this life. He had won, and the killing would stop.
He squashed down the part of himself dismayed at the thought.
He hoped he would never need it again.
Epilogue
Losara paused in the shadows of the coiled root, watching as Corlas organised the reconstruction of the hut. It had caught a spell or three during the fight, and Charla had seized the opportunity to convince Corlas to rebuild it more grandly, ‘as befits the Lord of the Wood’. Sprites were dragging in logs from the forest, and Corlas stood in the middle of the clearing chopping them, sweating as he rolled his shoulders and brought down the heavy axe.
Losara stepped from the darkness and made his way over. When Corlas noticed him, he set down his axe, wiped the beads from his brow, and smiled.
It gladdened Losara no end that his father accepted him, for with Bel now a part of him, he had inherited their bond. Thank goodness Corlas had given up his allegiance to the light, and was simply happy to have his family back.
‘Hello, Father,’ said Losara, clasping Corlas’s hand. ‘How goes it?’
‘Quite well,’ said Corlas. ‘Although hopefully she will stop wanting extra additions at the last moment.’
Losara chuckled.
‘And you?’ said Corlas. ‘I take it you have succeeded.’
‘You heard the crack?’
‘Aye,’ said Corlas. ‘And the voice.’ He picked up a cloth and wiped his hands. ‘It is the end?’
‘Yes,’ said Losara. ‘Arkus is gone, and light magic has failed.’ He frowned, momentarily troubled by the idea of crystal spiders dropping dead from peeling trees.
‘In that case,’ said Corlas, glancing at the roiling Cloud above, ‘I was hoping perhaps you might do me a favour.’
‘Which is?’
‘Let us have some sun. The trees would be grateful.’
Losara nodded. ‘I have done the same for the Saurians, off in their desert.’ He raised a hand to the sky and gave a little wave. The Cloud began to part, sunlight streaming through.
‘Thank you,’ said Corlas.
‘Where is Charla?’
‘Off at her friend’s place while all the hard work is being done,’ Corlas said, then revealed a wry look. ‘Can’t say I blame her, though. Not in her condition.’
‘Her condition?’ Losara stood dumbstruck, and his father laughed at his expression.
‘You are going to be a brother,’ he said.