Morgan Rice - A Dream of Mortals

It was a perfect strike. He chopped the shaft in half, and its shaft and head severed and went tumbling down to the ground.

The soldier rode past him harmlessly, swinging with a broken shaft and missing—and Darius wasted no time. He ran for the severed shaft, the blade at its end, snatched it from the ground, raised it high, turned, and hurled it.

Darius watched as the blade tumbled end over end through the air and lodged itself in the soldier’s back as he rode away. The crowd shouted in delight as the soldier cried out, arched his back, then fell sideways off his horse.

Drok, meanwhile, faced down a soldier as he swung with his halberd; Drok waited for the last moment, then jumped to the side, in a counterintuitive move, landing right in the horse’s path instead of away from it—and as he did so, he turned and ran his sword up underneath the horse’s throat, right up through his skull.

The horse collapsed down, just missing Drok, and its rider fell face first over its head, tumbling to the ground. The crowd oohed, and Drok scrambled to his hands and knees, ran forward, grabbed the dropped halberd, and brought it down on the back of the soldier’s head, just as he tried to get up.

The crowd screamed, jumping to their feet, going crazy, as Drok, Darius, and Raj all stood there, breathing hard. Darius looked around in amazement. He could not believe it. It was a scene of carnage all around them—and somehow, they had won.

After a long bout of applause and cheers, Darius began to wonder if the day’s match was over—when suddenly, more horns sounded. Darius felt a pit in his stomach, and he braced himself, wondering what it could be.

There came a sudden rumbling, and Darius did not like the way it sounded—or felt beneath his feet. The entire ground shook.

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy as a huge iron cell door opened and there came a trumpet call. Darius’s heart fell: he did not need the doors to open to know what was coming next.

Bursting out of the doors, on the opposite end of the arena, there suddenly came two of the largest elephants Darius had ever seen, one black and one white, with long curving ivory tusks that reached up twenty feet. The crowd went mad as the elephants, each ridden by a knight in black armor, charged right for them.

Darius looked up at the elephants, blocking the sky, casting a long shadow, and he knew he was looking death in the face. There was no way they could survive this.

The white elephant slowed and veered off, doing a tour, slowly circling the arena, taking in the cries of adulation from the crowd—while the black one continued to charge for them. Darius held his breath as it came bearing down and seemed to set its sights on Raj.

Darius stood in its path, blocking Raj.

“Let me die,” Raj called out, his voice weak. “Save yourself!”

“NEVER!” Darius yelled back, over the din of the elephant.

Darius stood there, protecting his friend, sword held high, knowing he was going to die but that at least he would die protecting his brother. Darius prepared for his death, flashing before him all the people he’d known and loved. He especially found himself thinking of Loti.

As the elephant got closer, Darius raised his sword, knowing it was futile but needing to go down, at least, as a warrior—and as he braced himself for death, something strange happened. As Darius watched, the elephant suddenly slowed, and then swayed, as if it were sick. Its huge eyes rolled up in its head, and it suddenly fell sideways, shaking the ground as it landed with a crash. Its momentum carried it forward, and it went skidding along the ground, like an unstoppable mountain of dirt sliding right for him. It slid so fast, and there was no time to run. Darius was sure he would soon be buried by this avalanche.

But Darius stood his ground, determined to protect his friend, whatever might come.

The elephant slid closer and closer, then finally, amazingly, it stopped, just a few feet away from Darius, frozen, dead.

The crowd let out an astonished gasp, clearly all puzzled as to what had happened. Darius, too, was baffled. Something, clearly, had killed the elephant, and yet no weapon had touched it. Was it sickness?

Darius saw foam coming from its mouth, and he wondered if it was poisoned. But by whom? And why? Had someone been looking out for him? Who was there left here in the city of Volusia that would care about him?

Darius had no time to figure it out; its rider had been thrown when it fell, and now he gained his feet and charged for Darius. Darius barely had time to react as the soldier hurled a spear at him, dodging at the last moment as it whirled by his head.

A moment later the soldier was on him, lowering his head and tackling Darius down to the ground. Darius was shocked the at the weight of this Empire soldier, in his all-black armor; it felt as if a mountain of steel had landed on top of him.

Darius tried to break free, but the soldier held him tight, constraining his arms. Darius felt as if the life were being crushed out of him, and wondered if he could break free—when suddenly, the soldier’s eyes burst open.

Darius heard the rattling of chains, and he looked up to see Raj on top of the soldier, wrapping his chains about his throat from behind. Raj used whatever life energy he had left in him, and squeezed and squeezed, until finally the soldier got off of Darius.

Darius rolled out from under him and quickly grabbed his sword. He turned back to see the soldier now lying atop Raj, who was on his back, still squeezing the chain but losing strength. The soldier would soon break free.

Darius ran forward, raising his sword high, and stabbed the soldier in the heart.

Finally, he stopped moving.

An elephant’s trumpet sounded, and Darius turned to see the other elephant turning and bearing down on them. This one, clearly, had not been poisoned, and Darius was shocked at how fast something so big could move, as it charged, the earth quaking with each step.

As its shade began to cover Darius, Darius knew he would not be so lucky a second time. Whatever had saved him the first time was no longer at his disposal. Now he would have no choice but to fight this monumental beast.

As Darius braced himself, he heard a sudden shout, followed by a rattling of chains, and he turned and was shocked to see Drok charging for Raj, death in his eyes. Darius could not understand what was happening.

He turned and ran and blocked Drok’s path, standing between him and Raj.

“What do you hope to gain?” Darius called out, baffled. “Even if you kill us both, you will not be the victor. You will still have to kill the elephant—and you cannot do that alone! You need us!”

“Fool!” Drok yelled back. “We’re already dead here. There is no chance to win—there never has been. But before I die, I want to see you both dead first!”

Darius scowled.

“If you want to kill him,” Darius said, “you’ll have to get through me!”

“Don’t worry!” Drok called out. “You’ll be next!”

Drok lunged with his sword and Darius blocked it with his shield, and swung back. Drok blocked Darius’s blow, and back and forth they went, well-matched, driving each other back and forth, as far as their shackles would allow.

Drok reached down and yanked on the chains, and Darius stumbled forward, right toward him, off balance. Drok then brought down his sword, and Darius dodged it just in time. Darius then swung for his back, but Drok wheeled and blocked it. Neither could gain an edge.

Darius heard a thundering coming toward them, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the sky blacken and the elephant bearing down. He knew he needed to turn his attention to the elephant, but Drok would just not break away.