Morgan Rice - Night of the Bold

Kavos led his men on a charge through the remnants of the army, killing any dazed soldiers they found left.

Before long Kavos reached the Pandesian commander personally, one of the last men alive. The coward turned and ran, and Kavos hurled a sword at his back.

It impaled him, and he fell face first and went skidding across the ice.

Dead.

Kavos’s men let out a great cheer. It was a cheer of victory. A cheer of vengeance. The northern army had been routed.

Escalon was free again.

Kyra stood alone on the vast Bridge of Sorrows, facing off against Ra in the battle that she knew would determine her fate. She stood there, wielding the Staff of Truth, determined to avenge her father. Ra stood across from her, equally determined as he raised his huge golden sword high. Kyra sensed that the outcome of this fight would determine not only her own fate, but the fate of Escalon as well. This, she sensed, was the final battle of the entire war, the battle her father never had a chance to complete.

Behind Ra, countless thousands of black monsters were rising from the soil, crossing the Fields of Ore, his sorcerer summoning them from the depths of hell. Above her the four immense dragon-like creatures pierced the air with their shrieks, diving down for Theon. Kyra saw her dragon lying there on the ground, and she wished more than ever she could come to his aid. But he would have to be on his own. She had her own battle to wage.

Behind her the mainland was filled with the sound of shouts, of men dying, as Anvin led what remained of Duncan’s army, attacking the Pandesian forces despite their overwhelming number, immersing themselves in the greatest war of Escalon’s history. All of them had put their lives on the line, and all of their lives hung in the balance. Kyra felt an extra sense of urgency to reunite with them and help them finish the battle.

Kyra wanted to be everywhere at once. She wanted to be fighting with her father’s men, and she wanted to be defending Theon – yet she knew that they each had a role to play, and her role was here, on the bridge, facing off against Ra, his sorcerer, and the legions of monsters behind them. Her role was to defend the Bridge of Sorrows, the entry to Escalon, for once and for all. She felt the staff throbbing in her hand, and she knew the time had come.

Kyra stood there, prepared for Ra to step forward and fight.

Yet to her surprise, he merely grinned wide and stepped aside.

As he did there arose a horrific moaning noise, and Kyra looked out to see the thousands of black creatures leaving the Fields of Ore, entering the bridge, charging her. Ra clearly wanted them to do the fighting for him.

Kyra was amazed at Ra’s cowardice as she watched the beasts run past him, right for her. His sorcerer grinned, too, each smug in their evil, each watching, waiting for these demons to do their dirty work for them. She braced herself, ready for the challenge. This was, after all, a war of good versus evil, of humanity against demons, of freedom versus tyranny. This battle was just the final manifestation of what had always lurked beneath the surface.

Kyra thought of her dead father, his noble face in death burned in her mind. She could not give up, not now, no matter how badly the odds were stacked against her. Even if the staff failed her, even if her powers failed her, she would not give up. She was, after all, a warrior in her own right, and she had her own two hands to fight with. That was all she’d ever wanted in life.

Kyra charged, not waiting for her foes to reach her. She raised the Staff of Truth and swung wildly, marking the first impact of the battle as she smashed the first black creature that came her way. It was an awful thing, twice her size, made of a black sticky substance, like clay, dripping, with small red eyes and rows of sharp, yellow teeth. It was a creature that never should have existed.

As Kyra slashed it across the midsection, her staff became lost in a glob of black tar, sending it exploding all around her. Another creature lunged and grabbed her arm, while another grabbed for her other arm. Kyra did not hesitate – she spun, raised the staff, and cracked one across its chest, then jabbed the other between the eyes, exploding both all over the bridge.

Kyra leapt into the crowd, swinging her staff like a warrior possessed. She spun and swung, ducking, rising, lowering her staff and bringing it up. She slashed and fought like lightning as she passed through the crowd, lost in a blur as these creatures clawed at her and exploded all around her. Kyra let all her instincts, all her training, take over her as she let the staff guide her. She barely had a sense of what she was doing as she surrendered to the control of the universe, as she truly let go and allowed herself to get lost in the whirlwind of battle.

Kyra felled one creature after the next, their unearthly moans rising up as she demolished them. They all lunged and clawed for her, yet, despite their greater size, none stood a chance. Within moments, hundreds lay dead on the bridge, lumps of blackened tar, and with each kill, she felt more powerful than she’d ever had.

Khtha grimaced as he stepped toward her, holding out his palm, clearly frustrated. A red beam of light emitted from it, but Kyra was unafraid. She held out her own palm, sensing her innate power was now stronger than his. White light shot forth, and as it met his beam of light, it made it dissolve.

Khtha stared back, clearly stunned and horrified.

He slowly lowered his palm, as if in defeat, and Kyra felt a tremendous power rush through her palm, a power stronger than she’d ever felt. It was the power she had been born with, the power she had been afraid to embrace until now. It was one that she finally allowed herself to embrace, now, as leader of Escalon. If not on behalf of herself, she could embrace it on behalf of all her people.

She raised her palm higher and intensified the light, and as she did, Khtha finally sank to his knees, crying out. Kyra walked forward, continuing to push the light down toward him. Soon, he slumped over to his side. She could feel his evil power, one that had lasted for thousands of years, that had supported Ra, had supported all of the Pandesian Empire, leaving him.

A huge ball of white light suddenly shot forth from her palm and consumed him. A moment later, Kyra felt a rush of victory as he disappeared, all that remained a pile of robes on the ground.

A hole opened in the earth, a column of black light shot up, and Khtha’s shrieks echoed as he was sucked down below ground, the hole sealing up after his departure. Kyra felt a rush of satisfaction knowing that this horrible creature had been extinguished for good.

As Khtha sank below the earth, there came an awful moaning, and Kyra looked out to see the army of black creatures rising from the Fields of Ore suddenly melt back into the earth, disintegrating now that their master was dead. She breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders aching, still out of breath from the battle.

Yet her relief was tempered by a fresh concern: on the horizon she spotted, marching for the bridge, millions more fresh Pandesian soldiers.

Reinforcements had arrived.

If they reached the bridge, if they crossed into Escalon, everything they fought for would be finished.

Kyra stood on the bridge, breathing hard, and faced off, finally alone against Ra. His army lay in the distance behind him, and hers behind her. Finally, their time had come.

Ra raised his golden sword and grimaced, stepping forward.

“You imagine yourself to be strong now,” he spat, “because you killed a few monsters and a sorcerer past his prime. Yet you are nothing. You are but a girl, and will always be nothing. I am everything. You cannot kill the Great and Holy Ra. I have never been killed and I shall never be killed. I am a god – and man cannot defeat a god.”