Tom Lloyd: The Dusk Watchman

Isak looked back at Ruhen and saw the shadows under his skin turning uneasily in Aenaris’ light. The boy was pale; his skin was almost translucent, like a plague victim’s, and his smile was faltering as the poison began to take effect. Isak felt panic set in. The Gods had submitted; the sacrifice had been made on the slopes above them. Now Ruhen had only to die, to free Azaer of his mortal vessel, and a new God would be ascend to stand above them all. The Harlequins and Acolytes were outnumbered, but they were supremely skilled. Emin wouldn’t be able to break through in time.

He strained yet again at the chain, but his efforts succeeded only in causing a black burst of agony as Termin Mystt grated against his collarbone. The fire licking at his mind intensified and he felt it burning a path through his soul. Isak screamed again, unable to bear the forces raging unchecked through his body.

‘Azaer!’ roared a voice from beyond the circle of flame.

Isak tried to focus through the pain, but his vision blurred as every scar on his body came alive with old hurts. The attackers surrounded the circle now, though not even a Harlequin would attempt to jump these flames. Distantly he could make out Doranei as the black broadsword carved through an Acolyte’s sword and body.

‘Isak!’ shouted someone else, ‘Isak, get up!’

Now he could see Carel, sword and face both bloodied, roaring like a drill sergeant. A Harlequin turned to strike him down, but King Emin was at his side, shouting at Azaer, his face illuminated by red sparks bursting from the edge of his axe. Doranei turned and struck the Harlequin, claiming another life as Emin continued to shout for the dying boy’s attention.

Slowly Ruhen turned Emin’s way, his movements dulled by the poison, but Isak could see the shadow recognised his old enemy. As soon as the boy had turned his way Emin pulled something from his belt and held it up. Isak felt a faint note of recognition as the light caught it: a cracked glass shard with a dark strand within.

Doranei grabbed the king’s hand and before any of the defenders could take advantage, they dropped the shard onto the rocky ground. Black wings burst around them, sweeping from nowhere to envelop the pair in a flurry of movement before melting away an instant later.

Ilumene was already moving to Ruhen’s side as the wings reappeared on the near side of the flames, between the standing stones of Nartis and Tsatach. The Gods, still bowed in obeisance, showed no sign of noticing, but as the wings vanished and the two men staggered back, Ilumene lunged forward. The king parried with a drunken swipe as he fell back against Nartis’ stone.

Isak felt another jolt inside him as Doranei left the king’s side and threw himself at Koteer. Emin slipped around the stone just in time to let Ilumene’s sword raise sparks where his head had been, then responded with a flurry of blows with sword and axe. His former protege laughed as he battered them away, but Ilumene kept his distance now, using the longer reach of his bastard sword to keep Emin away from the kneeling Ruhen.

On the far side of the circle Doranei was hacking madly at Koteer. The power of his sword more than made up for his opponent’s size and strength, but as Koteer gave ground, his eyes flicked to the figure beside Ilit’s stone, and Venn, unnoticed, drew his own sword as Doranei turned his back to him.

Isak tried to shout a warning, but Tiniq smashed the pommel of his sword down onto his head and he found himself on his hands and knees, once again barely able to see. He blinked hard, trying to focus: Doranei was a blur of furious movement ahead of him, and Venn was stepping forward, his own sword ready.

Through the darkness came another blaze of light and he saw Venn falter as fingers closed on his shoulder. He turned in surprise to see the Wither Queen holding him. Her eyes blazed blue, then faded and turned to emerald and as Isak watched the Black Harlequin shook her off and slashed at her face — but from nowhere she brought up a long-knife and caught the blow.

Then the Wither Queen reached out and took Venn by the throat, green sparks dancing across her fingers. Venn shrieked and wrenched himself around to try and escape her grip, but all he succeeded in doing was dragging the Goddess with him, her ragged cape billowing in an unnatural wind.

Then the rags and tarnished crown melted away into the darkness and suddenly it was Legana standing there instead. Venn tried again to run her through, but the Mortal-Aspect, moving with incredible speed, slapped his sword away. Her face became cold and focused and she closed her grip, her thumb driving into his throat, crushing his windpipe. Venn staggered back, his ruined hand pawing weakly at his neck, but Legana didn’t wait for him fall; with one blindingly quick stroke she slashed his broken neck open and watched the blood gush out.

As Ilumene glanced up and saw his comrade fall he barely avoided an eviscerating stroke from the king. The big man snarled and threw himself forward, hammering down on the king’s axe-shaft and smashing it from his grip. Emin tried to thrust his sword forward, but Ilumene barged into him and the two men became pinned together, their swords trapped between them.

Ilumene drove Emin backwards until he was standing against a standing stone. ‘You’re too late!’ the former King’s Man crowed. ‘There’s nothing you can do to stop Ruhen, and my soul’s a part of him.’

The king grunted under the pressure, but instead of reply he slipped his free hand down to his belt and dragged a dagger from it. Ilumene lifted him bodily so his head was pressed back against the flames in the stone’s alcove and the king cried out in pain, even as he jammed the dagger into Ilumene’s ribs. The big man gasped and released the king, but as he fell back, a bright ruby light burst into being from under his armour and with a shout Ilumene headbutted the king. He released his sword, then pulled out his own dagger as he bashed Emin’s head into the stone.

‘Surprise!’ he shouted, slashing his dagger across the king’s cheek. ‘I always was one trick ahead of you — you never could keep up, old man,’ and he punched Emin until the king reeled under the onslaught and fell back against the menhir.

Ilumene snarled with satisfaction, but the king beat Ilumene back a step, then he hurled himself to the ground and grabbed his discarded axe. He hooked Ilumene’s leg, driving the spike into his calf, even as a second burst of light from Ilumene’s bloodrose amulet absorbed the pain of his wound and the bigger man stabbed down into his shoulder.

‘I don’t need to,’ Emin croaked, dragging the axe towards him and pulling Ilumene’s leg with it.

The big fighter twisted as he fell and drove his knees into Emin, then he tried to fight his way backwards, but he floundered; his leg was caught under Emin and the king was hanging on with every last scrap of strength.

And then Isak moved: with a great scream he drove himself to his feet and drew the power of Termin Mystt inside him. Black flames danced over his skin as the raging torrent of magic ripped through his frail body. The roar of power filled his ears and the Land drew back from around him. Isak could see the small boy going limp ahead of him, creeping like a thief towards Godhood.

He howled, and sent all the shrieking energies of Death’s weapon into his arm. As he dragged up his hand, he felt the chain tighten about his chest, but still he hauled, barely noticing as Tiniq slammed his pommel down onto Isak’s neck again. Fire engulfed him and the pain of the Dark Place welled up from his lost memories as the black sword bit into his shoulder and kept going. Higher and higher it went, and the Land became a white haze of agony before his eyes as he carved through his own collarbone and on into the shoulder. Then the edge caught the silver chain and it burst apart in an explosion of dark power that threw Isak’s sword-arm back.