He burst through the pavilion flap to find Karak sitting in front of the raging fire, his knees drawn up. The deity held his head in his hands. The groaning Velixar had heard was actually a growl that sounded eerily similar to that of the Final Judges when offering a sinner their special form of justice.
“My Lord?” he asked as he knelt on the other side of the fire.
Karak’s eyes rose to meet his, bearing sorrow, frustration, and the exhaustion of eternity. As they stared, Karak’s troubles infused his every fiber. Such a reaction. Few things could spark it, and in his gut, Velixar had a suspicion. .
“The demon,” Velixar said. “What has he done?”
Karak’s jaw tightened.
“Darakken has regained its old form, in the flesh.”
Just as he’d thought, then. Troublesome, especially if Karak placed the blame on his head. Had he not promised to control the beast? Was it not his journal that contained the required spell to bring back the demon’s mortal form?
Speaking of which. .
“Is my journal with him still?” he asked. There were many other secrets within, secrets he disliked the idea of the ancient demon reading.
Karak shook his head. “The Darakken will carry your book always, High Prophet. That book now lies within the heart of the creature it helped bring about. Just like the Black Spire, it cannot be seen again.”
“What happened to the Spire?” asked Velixar.
“In the aftermath of Darakken’s creation, the Black Spire was exhausted of its magic and shattered.”
Velixar looked down. His journal was gone, and the Spire as well.
“That is. . unfortunate.”
“All is not lost,” Karak said. “You have the knowledge of ages within you, High Prophet. You can pen your journal anew, if that is what you wish to do. As for the Black Spire, its loss is fortuitous. It was the Spire that created the desert at the heart of Ker, its power draining all life from the earth surrounding it. With it gone, the rains will soon come, as will grass and trees. Vibrancy will emerge where once there was desolation. Those lands will be truly hospitable once more.”
“Lands that will soon be yours,” Velixar said, realizing why Karak considered it a boon. Still, the loss stung. Velixar had hoped to prod the secrets from the crystal one day.
“Now that Darakken is whole once more,” Velixar asked, each word tentative, “will it be joining us?”
“No,” said Karak. He slid his legs beneath him and sat up straight, the reds and yellows from the fire casting flickering shadows across his face. “As if from a dream, I remember when we were whole and gave life to that. . thing. It is nothing but hunger and desire, my prophet. It will not come to us. Without Clovis to help guide it, the thought will never even enter its head. It was formed for one purpose, and that purpose will take it to the Stonewood Forest.”
“To slaughter the elves.”
Karak nodded.
“Forgive me, my Lord,” said Velixar, crossing his arms over his chest and bowing his head in supplication. “In my pride I thought to control it, to use it as a tool. Whatever consequences such failure deserves, I accept them humbly.”
“You were a fool to think your power sufficient,” Karak said, and his words burned into Velixar’s chest. “But at least you now understand your foolishness. As for the ancient demon. . for now it will spread chaos, and for once, I feel that chaos is exactly what we need.”
That sounded like blasphemy to Velixar, but how could words of blasphemy come from the lips of a god?
“I don’t understand,” he said, figuring that a safe enough response.
“Despite all the horrors Celestia has allowed to fall upon her children, she still loves them. They are her creations, her greatest achievement.” Karak’s gaze turned distant, and he smiled. “Her focus will be drawn to the elves and their struggles. If she is prompted to intervene again, it will be to defend them, not Ashhur.”
“Or it will cause her to loathe this war all the more,” Velixar dared suggest.
Karak slowly shook his head.
“If she seeks to end it, then let her end it. I will not let fear of her guide my actions. All around us, this entire world is filled with chaos, but within the chaos I am learning to see threads of order. We can cling to this still, find opportunity even in the worst of hardships. This is one such opportunity, my friend, and one we must take advantage of immediately.”
Velixar stood, his entire body shaking with anticipation. “What do we do now?”
“Everything has aligned, the threads coming together, with Darakken’s creation the final knot. We have an army that will soon go hungry, yet despite our lack of resources, they have worked diligently. Though the magical barrier my brother raised still stands, I now have thirty-six towers and twenty-nine catapults, along with as many ladders and rams as we could possibly utilize. The time to attack is now, my prophet. Once inside Mordeina’s walls, that barrier will be useless. Once inside those walls, the might of the demon you swallowed will at last be put to the test.”
Velixar grinned. “I look forward to that, my Lord.”
“Our strike will be quick and deadly. Before the sun rises, I want all divisions mobilized. Inform the Lord Commander of everything you have learned from the mutant’s mind, of all defensive positions and resources my brother has at his disposal.”
There it was, the mention of the malformed DuTaureau. Velixar opened his mouth to admit yet another failure to his chosen god, but Karak continued.
“This will be our day in the sun,” said the deity. “This is the day that will usher forth a united Dezrel. Do not dwell on your failures or what you feel was lost. When Ashhur falls, when his people bear witness to my might and bend their knees, all shall be forgotten. Now go forth and ready the soldiers for what lies ahead.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
The sky above him was dark as Velixar withdrew from the tent, the type of deepened black that comes just before sunrise. He walked a straight line through the snow, the walled settlement of Mordeina a faint outline in the distance. No longer did those walls seem unassailable. Karak’s approval had steeled him, had let him see that the outcome of the coming battle had already been written. They would storm those walls, and they would conquer the people within. For Karak was the god with vision-the deity willing to risk everything to bring about that vision-whereas Ashhur was a sentimental fool. It was that timidity, that naïve trust in feeble, foolish humankind that had led Velixar to choose the god of the east. Karak was the stronger. Strength led to destruction and chaos, and from destruction and chaos would emerge creation and true order. Might was visceral, real; compassion was a belief and nothing more.
Heart soaring, Velixar marched through the sprawling camp, seeking out the Lord Commander. The day of reckoning was at hand.
CHAPTER 25
The attack began as the sun crept above the horizon.
It started with boulders smashing against Mordeina’s walls from all sides, pounding and pulverizing the thick stone. Ahaesarus raced along the western wall, shouting out orders, the warning Azariah had given him coming too late, the assault beginning too quickly for him to get all of his charges to safety. Though the walls remained standing, cracks soon formed. Just like the many times before, many of the heavy boulders soared over the walls as well, only this time, just as Azariah had said, they were not flung blindly. Each falling chunk of rock landed much too close to the defensive formations Ahaesarus had formed. The defenders scattered, Warden and human alike. The huts where weapons were hammered out and stored were pulverized. Boulders fell onto the fields in the north of the settlement, crushing the weak crops; smashed into their horse stables; dropped onto their dwindling livestock. Animals fled the destruction of their habitats, horses, cattle, pigs, and goats tramping through the settlement to avoid the death raining from above. Snow and mist filled the air. The people were thrown into a panic. All was chaos.