Eclipsing the Darkness (The Dragon Chronicles Book 5) (25 page)

“Not yet!” he cried out.

Determined to reach his target, he shot forward with divine speed. The flames trailed behind him, along with scales and spines that broke off of his body. They, too, became consumed by the flames. He ignored the pain, focusing his attention on the swirling mass of energy that clouded the approaching tendrils. It burned him even further as he passed through it, and even the flames died out from the strange nature of the energy field.

Suddenly, swirls of dark matter formed around him, gathering together into the fearsome shapes of dragon-like creatures. They attacked, rending the Dragon’s body with their dark claws, and shrieking unearthly cries that stung his very soul. He opened his maw, releasing divine flame into their midst. They scattered, only to reform in other places and resume their attacks.

Again, their claws tore at his flesh, adding to the building pain. He held back his cries, focusing his attention on the nearest tendril. With a cry of rage, he clenched his fangs into the purplish strand, biting down into the pure, tangible energy.

The surge of power jolted his body violently. He suffered through the pain, refusing to let go until the tendril had been broken. He beat his wings furiously, ignoring the dark creatures that swirled in anger around him. Finally, the tendril gave way, and he tore it apart with a powerful lurch of his massive head.

As he backed away, the ends of the severed tendril flailed around, shooting jets of both dark and light magic off into the void. Then, the ends retracted; one end disappearing into the rock above, the other falling back into the molten core.

He could hear the Great Mother sigh, and a surge of her power shot upward to bathe him in its comfort. Renewed, he clamped on to another tendril. There were two left, and another larger and darker spout that appeared as a giant tornado. He bit down again, ignoring the surge of pain, and ripped away the second. It, too, shriveled and collapsed. Roaring with determination, he leaped across to the last one, ripping it to shreds with little effort.

The pain of Kingu’s presence surged again, pressing outward from inside. The Dragon cried out once more, knowing that nothing mattered now. It was time to let Kingu’s rage escape. It was the only way to destroy the last remaining link.

He bore down on the vortex, clamping onto its swirling mass with his divine claws. He paused, feeling the pain of death approaching. In his mind, he saw Eamon, sword in hand, vanquishing his enemies. The entire world was behind him, it seemed, united together to destroy the beast that threatened their existence. Eamon was unstoppable. He was their hope. He was their savior.

He was the Onyx Dragon.

The Dragon had never been more proud in his entire existence. He looked upon his son with all the love he could feel; all of the pride that existed within him. His heart ached, knowing he would never see his own son again.

“Goodbye, Eamon,” he whispered, sadly.

Finally, he let his guard down. The power of Kingu surged outward in an explosion of rage, tearing his body apart. The huge tendril of dark energy was torn in two, and the massive cloud of destruction spread throughout the empty space above the core. The dark creatures that dwelled there were vaporized, annihilated by the combination of matter and anti-matter.

What was left of the Dragon fell to the molten surface of the core, disappearing into the fires as it was consumed.

The Lifegiver’s dark mass was scattered throughout the vault of the Great Pyramid by the sudden surge of power. The dark entity swirled in confusion and rage, feeling the alien presence that had destroyed its link with Gaia. Though he could feel the Dragon, there was something else; something that did not belong here. Somehow, it had assisted the Dragon in his quest. Now, Absu was alone. He no longer had the power of the Great Mother to feed upon. Never before had this occurred; not in the thousands upon thousands of times he had consumed her.

Absu collected himself once again, reaching out with his dark tendrils to reestablish the connection. There seemed to be nothing to link to anymore, as if his ability to reach into the Great Mother’s spirit had been lost. He could not even feel her presence; only the odd and maddening presence of the alien creature. It was the same alien creature that had seduced Igraina with its own darkness.

Igraina,
he called out.

But there was no answer. She was gone forever.

Absu’s mass began to swirl faster, the clouds glowing bright red as his anger grew. He would attempt one last attack on the people of Gaia; one last conjuring.

One last bearer of destruction.

The ground shook violently as a blinding burst of light exploded from the distant city of Khem. The battle lost its ferocity for a moment as the combatants paused to shield themselves from the blast. Clouds of sand followed the intense wave of heat, biting into every square inch of exposed skin. Eamon crouched down as it passed around him.

He stood, taking in the unexpected events. The air was thick with debris, and men all around him staggered; wiping their eyes and choking as they struggled for breath. Eamon spat the grit from his mouth, desperately searching for his knights among the confused warriors. All was as it was in his nightmare, and the sudden sense of loss he felt was terrifying.

What had happened?

He pushed through the crowded bodies, seeking out the one person who might know the answer. He found Traegus nearby, staring at the distant horizon; his eyes wide with excitement.

“What happened?” Eamon asked, grasping the wizard’s shoulder.

“The Dragon has severed the link!” he shouted.

Eamon turned his attention to Khem; seeing the dark clouds beginning to dissipate over the Great Pyramid. There was a huge hole in the darkness, it seemed, where the sunlight was beginning to break through. The Dragon had succeeded.

Suddenly, Eamon realized why he felt such a sense of loss.

“The Dragon,” he said. “He is gone.”

Traegus turned to him hesitantly, his eyes saddened. He nodded, pursing his lips. “Yes,” he said, sympathetically. “He is gone. It is time.”

Sadly, Eamon accepted the loss, knowing full well that the Dragon’s sacrifice had been necessary. He had known all along that in order to defeat the Lifegiver, most of the Firstborn would have to die. The Dragon was no exception. Still, the sense of loss was overpowering; he had never felt so alone in his life. Without any family, other than Maedoc, he was truly on his own.

“Then let us be done with it,” he said finally.

The glint of steel caught Eamon’s attention to his left. A Jindala spear came at him, thrust by a concealed enemy. Eamon batted the spear away, spinning to impale the attacker with the Serpent’s tongue. He saw Traegus bash another attacker with his staff, finishing off his opponent with his own sword. He then released a wave of bluish magic in front of him, knocking back a wall of soldiers who had charged to attack. He then turned back to Eamon.

“I will get us as close to the city as I can,” he said.

As Traegus prepared his spell, Faeraon appeared from the gloom. He appeared concerned, as if something was not quite right.

“We must not go without Hamal,” he said as he approached.

Eamon looked at him curiously. “Why?” he asked.

“We will need him to enter the city,” Faeraon explained. “His blade is the key to opening the gates.”

The three turned as the ground suddenly trembled behind them. A dozen Jindala were thrown into the air, bloodied and screaming. The massive form of Imbra roared in triumph; his six arms wielding gleaming scimitars coated in blood. He appeared sinister; blue skinned, dark eyed, and with the face of a demon. He did not look in their direction, but the janni who followed him turned in their direction. Shemya was among them, his blades also bathed in blood.

“Remember what I told you,” the djinn said. “And be wary of the gates of Khem. They are guarded, and not by men.”

The djinn turned back to his path, igniting into a pillar of fire as he resumed his attacks upon the Jindala. Imbra, too, burst into a fighting stance, plowing through the dazed enemies with his many blades.

“He’s right,” Traegus added. “We will seek out Hamal. Titus will find him.”

The wizard raised his staff into the air, firing a blue fireball that exploded over the battlefield. Eamon and Faeraon guarded him as he waited for the metallic dragon to arrive. Titus appeared shortly thereafter, hovering over Traegus as he instructed him.

“Find Hamal!” Traegus shouted. “And take us to him!”

The dragon squawked in obedience, turning in the air and heading off to the east. Eamon and Faeraon followed as Traegus cleared a path with fiery bursts from his staff. The clouds had begun to clear, allowing the sunlight to light the battlefield, and the heat was beginning to build. But they pressed on, eager to find their ally, wherever he may be.

Hamal’s men had reached the line of immortals and were engaged in a fierce and difficult battle. Though he wielded a sword blessed with the power of Imbra, his soldiers carried mundane weapons that had little immediate effect. Only those who delivered crippling wounds were successful, and Hamal shouted to his troops to aim for their heads or hearts.

The archers behind him, a mix of nomadic warriors and rebel Jindala, fired between them, striking the golden breastplates or veiled helmets of the immortals. They were successful, bringing down a great number of them to aid the foot soldiers in their efforts. Soon, the immortals dwindled to a single line, and the standard Jindala troops began to fill in the gaps.

But then, the soldiers in the far flanks were thrown into the air in a violent burst of blood and limbs. Hamal stared wide-eyed as a giant, armored beast appeared in their midst. It was armored like the samurai, and bore a giant katana that glowed with the power of the firstborn.
Mahaguratu
began to sing, growing in brightness as the ogrish creature came near. This was Yin-Kai, he knew, the Firstborn of the eastern lands.

A flood of samurai followed the divine creature, pouncing upon the Jindala like shadows. Another among them, a young warrior dressed in bronze armor, led them on skillfully. Hamal was impressed with his ferocity, and when he locked eyes with the young man, he nodded in respect.

Overhead, the shrill cry of a dragon caught his attention. He looked up to see Traegus’ servant hovering above him, shooting fireballs from its toothed maw. Once the dragon had cleared a space, it landed with a shrill cry. Hamal was pleased to see Traegus push through and stand at the dragon’s side. Eamon and Faeraon appeared as well.

“The time has come, friend,” Traegus said. “Come with us. We need you.”

Hamal nodded. “I am ready,” he said.

Traegus wove a vortex into the air with his staff, swirling it around in circles until the very air opened up into a rotating portal. Beyond it, Hamal could see the Great Pyramid, and the gated wall that surrounded it. Fires burned everywhere, and the city appeared to be in ruin. Even the top of the pyramid itself was in rubble.

Eamon and Faeraon disappeared into the vortex. Hamal hesitantly stepped forward, aware of a strange presence on the other side. It was not the Lifegiver himself, but something else; something familiar. But, he knew that it was his duty to assist in destroying the Lifegiver. Hesitation would only cost them the victory. It was now or never.

Closing his eyes, the rightful king of Khem stepped through.

Chapter Twenty Three

Tenegal’s injuries were easily healed, Khalid had found. His own prowess with restorative magic coupled with the Alvar’s strong constitution allowed him to completely repair the damage. He left Tenegal to rest within the comfort of the temple, returning to the temple courtyard to meet up with the rest of the defenders.

The Mordumarc had come to pay tribute, along with their temporary leaders, Ferrin and Galen. Maedoc was still around, studying the corpses of the wights for future reference. Aeli, Allora, Jodocus, and the moorcat had returned, bringing the Alvar and the rangers with them. Khalid looked for his friends, finding Farouk and the newly arrived Torak near the center, speaking with Erenoth.

Knowing Torak’s true identity, he was loathe to see Allora and Aeli approaching the group. He dreaded the confrontation that would surely occur once Allora recognized who the shaman really was. The man had caused her great suffering many thousands of years ago, and crimes of that nature did not go unpunished.

Or so he thought.

As he neared the group, a look of recognition immediately came over the Alvar’s lady’s face. She froze, shocked and speechless. Torak stood strong, but held his head low in shame. Farouk placed his hand on the shaman’s back, encouraging him to step forward.

Torak slowly approached Allora, falling to one knee in humility. She glared down at him, angry, but more confused than anything.

“You…” she whispered. Once again, the shaman lowered his head. All fell silent.

Torak raised his eyes, looking up at her in sorrow. “My lady,” he pleaded. “I have returned to this world to atone for my past. My biggest regret is allowing the darkness to enter this realm, but I will never forgive myself for what I have done to you. I cannot imagine the suffering I have caused you, or your father. In payment of this atrocity, I gladly offer you my head, if you wish it.”

Allora stood frozen in place. Her expression had not changed, but her body seemed to relax somewhat. Still, Khalid could sense her turmoil. He knew that her nobility would not allow her to chastise him, but he would not blame if she did. Still, some part of him believed that Torak was truly a changed man—if that’s what he was—and Khalid himself had even become a priest after so many of years of dark deeds.

Slowly, Allora’s expression changed to one of pity. She stepped forward, placing her hand on the shaman’s head. He began to weep.

“You do not appear as you did before,” she said softly. “You are no longer the monster you were; neither inside nor out. I cannot condemn you for your deeds if you have come to atone. But it is not my forgiveness that is needed. To truly change, you must learn to forgive yourself. Only then will the others, myself included, be able to forgive you.”