The light flickered over the stone walls, illuminating carvings that looked suspiciously like Greek, but weren't. Alexios paused by one large glyph and traced it with her finger. It was jagged and yet carved with such detail that there could be no doubt it was supposed to be like that.
"What are you?" She mused out loud, squinting at the glyph. It merely shimmered under her light, refusing to give up its secrets.
"A long-dead language," replied a harsh voice from behind her. Alexios jumped and whipped around, arms out in a defensive posture and her aura flaring.
A very old man wearing a robe the same snow white color of his hair shuffled out of the darkness. He clutched to a staff and moved in an almost painful manner.
"Oh, hush," he said irritably. He waved his hand and Alexios's aura snuffed out, plunging the space into darkness. A second later her aura blazed back into being, illuminating the determined look on the Greek girl's face. The old man leaned back slightly, a surprised look registering on his face.
'How did you do that?" He asked, suspicious. She smiled.
"You used an energy dampener that cut off the light and therefore the energy of my aura. It was simplicity itself to get around it."
The old man huffed.
"That's impossible. Sadira didn't teach you that, did she?"
"Nope, figured it out myself," Alexios said proudly, then caught the name of her mentor. "You know Lady Sadira?"
"I certainly hope so," came the reply. "I taught her. Now take me to her."
Mozenrath was a far lighter sleeper than Sadira, and therefore awoke at the first footfalls outside the door to the throne room.
Probably just Alexios, he thought and remained where he was, entwined with Sadira.
Then the door opened.
Why is that sand rat coming in? He wondered idly.
"Sadira!" At the harsh bellow of his lovers name Mozenrath snapped awake, as did Sadira. "At attention!"
Moze rose into a low crouch and snarled at the intruder, an old man with a staff. Alexios hovered timidly near the door. Sadira leapt to her feet and stood ramrod straight.
"Sir!" She barked, then caught herself and blinked. The old man shook his head.
"Look at you, empress of the Sand Witches and still taking orders from me." His stern gaze fell on Mozenrath. "And sleeping with the local warlords as well?"
Mozenrath rose to his full height and clenched his fists. Electricity crackled along his guantlet and his aura flared. The old man, unimpressed, snapped his fingers and Mozenrath's aura fizzled and disappeared.
"Sit down, you have much bigger problems than me," the old man barked out. He tapped his staff against the ground, igniting the tip and sketching out a map of some kind. Sadira looked to Alexios, who shrugged and mouthed "couldn't stop him." Sadira cursed silently.
"Teacher," she said, inclining her head respectfully. "Why and how are you here?"
He looked up at her and snorted.
"I taught generations of sand witches before you, Sadira." A troubled look passed over his face before he snapped back into focus. "You- both of you- are in serious trouble."
Mozenrath stepped in.
"Why?"
"Aladdin has caught up with you. His guards hold your castle."
Moze stiffened.
"What? Impossible. He couldn't even have found it without magic. And that street rat- no offense, Sadira- hasn't a drop of magic blood in his veins." The old man beckoned.
"Come with me."
"What do you think he has down here?" The pudgy guard said as he broke open the lock on the door to Mozenrath's workroom.
"I don't know, maybe... Shrunken heads?" His partner answered, his thin frame leaned against the wall, picking his nose. The fat guard by the door stopped and grimaced.
"Would he do that?" His friend shrugged.
"With this guy, who knows? Hurry up and get that door open."
"I'm working, I'm working," the fat one muttered and wrenched on his sword, snapping the lock off the door.
The thin man sniffed and pushed open the door. They descended together into the darkness.
"Why didn't we bring a torch?" The fat man wondered idly. The thin man huffed.
"I told you to grab one. You never listen." The fat man scratched his bald head and muttered something about pastry.
A torch blazed into life beside the thin man, making him scream and jump into the air, and subsequently trip and fall down the stairs. His heavyset friend gasped and hurried down after him.
After sorting his comrade out, the fat man grabbed the torch and swept it over the space. The pair began to walk around the perimeter of the room.
"Look at this place," the thin one whispered fearfully. "He's got stuff all over the tables."
"What does he even do with all this stuff?" The pudgy one whispered back, peering around with stereotypically tiny eyes. Neither noticed as the torchlight swept over a humanoid form, nor when two red eyes winked on and the form stepped out of the alcove it had been resting in.
Intruders, whispered one of the voices in Ragül's head. Combat mode. His body clicked and whirred, armor plates sliding into place and his dual axes popping out of his chest. He drew them, tossing them skilfully in the air and catching them again.
Threat level neglible, the voice whispered again. Detain for questioning.
kill kill kill
Ragül moved smoothly, walking behind the pair and clapped their heads together, knocking them out cold. His hands tensed on his axes as he looked at their prone bodies.
Objective complete, whispered the first voice.
Kill, whispered another.
Sweep the rest of the house, the first voice ordered.
KILL, the second voice demanded. Ragül drowned out the second voice and focused on his mission. He leapt up the stairs and landed without a sound behind the guard at the top. He took in the guard's sword, dagger and crossbow in one look and arrived at a conclusion.
Threat. Dispatch.
Kill.
His axes flashed and the body crumpled to the carpet, the head a few feet distant. He stowed his axes and picked up the crossbow, making sure it was in working order. It was. He then took the bolts from it and smashed the crossbow in half over his knee. A few careful hand movements later and he had converted his left arm into a rudimentary rapid firing crossbow.
Silent and swift as a shadow, Ragül sped towards the throne room. He would start there and work his way out, sweeping the palace until he had cleared it. He rounded a corner and brought up his arm, firing two bolts. Two guards flew back, arrows protruding from their chests.
Efficient, the first voice complimented.
Kill, the second whispered gleefully.
He dived through the door to the throne room, smashing through the reinforced timbers and coming up with his left arm pointed at the throne.
The man sitting in the throne clapped slowly, a smile on his face. The dozen or so guards arrayed before the throne shuffled nervously, spears at the ready.
"Very impressive," he complimented smoothly. "The workmanship on your frame and on your binding is superb. My compliments to your maker."
Speech. Delay until situation is known.
Killkillkill
"You are sitting in his throne. Leave or I will take action." The man stood and flexed his neck, the bones cracking softly.
"Shall you do away with all these, then?" He said, sweeping his hand over the mass of guards. One of them looked back in confusion.
Within seconds all lay dead and Ragül was ten bolts short. He flipped his crossbow shut and drew his axes. The man merely clenched his fists.
"You are a binding of demon and machine," he said, slowly walking down the steps towards Ragül. "Impressive- but I am superior."
He grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth. His eyes flashed red.
"But I am demon bound into a human form. All this energy, all this matter- its so beautiful." He licked his lips and grimaced, fire igniting around his hands.
"Well met, brother," Ragül said in the gutural, unholy language of demons. "I should know who I will be releasing from this plane. What are you called?"
The demon cackled and formed a ball of fire in his hands.
"I am Lutyen."
"A marid," Ragül whispered in surprise. His axes came up to block the roaring ball of fire that Lutyen conjured at him.
The fire demon drew swords of pure fire from the air.
Their unholy cries filled the air as blade met blade.
"Who the hell is that?" Mozenrath demanded, looking at the distant form of a man strutting around the front gate to his castle. The old man shrugged.
"I don't know, but he blew through your guards with his bare hands."
"Impossible," Mozenrath snapped. "No man can get through my creations."
Sadira formed from the sand next to him.
"Ambush taken care of," she announced. Alexios sprouted from the sand next to her.
"Ew," she said, making a face and shaking her hand. "I hate blood. Never comes out."
"Use salt to wash it," Mozenrath said offhandedly. "Absorbs the blood out and leaves it with a nice fluff." He blinked and noticed everyone staring at him.
"What, you think I don't do my own laundry?" He said indignantly. Sadira grinned.
"I think I love you more now," she declared. A hint of a smile flickered across Moze's face.
"Focus!" The old man snapped. "Defend the empire."
Sadira and Moze nodded together.
"If we go in through the front-" Moze began.
"We'll be killed," Sadira finished.
"So the best option is-"
"A more stealthy approach-"
"But if they've got any magicians, they'll sense us coming, unless-"
"One of us provides a distraction," Sadira finished. Moze nodded, determined.
"Alright, here's the plan. Sadira, take Alexios and use your little sand trick to get in. I'll tackle the main gate, kill any magicians they might have, and meet you inside." Sadira's hand met his and squeezed tight. He looked into her eyes and saw her sheer determination, the steel in her core. He also saw the tiny flaw in her armor, the one chink- him.
"Stay safe," she whispered, her lips brushing his quickly before she stepped away. "Signal us when you're ready." She took Alexios's hand and they burst into sand.
Mozenrath nodded and took a deep breath. His eyes fixed on the front gate, and on the one who looked to be the leader.
He was about to burst into action when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He looked to see the old man beckoning.
"Let me show you a spell," he rasped.
Sadira had used magic to dig a small cave below the sand, a space just large enough for her and Alexios to sit facing each other. Sadira frowned.
"I just thought, how are we supposed to see his signal from down here?" Alexios tapped her lip thoughtfully, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a seed. She cupped it in her hands and blew on it gently. She scooped out a tiny portion of dirt and placed the seed inside, brushing the dirt back over it.
"What are you-" Alexios held a finger to her lips, cutting Sadira off. She closed her eyes and breathed out, her aura slowly growing.
"Grow," she whispered, and the seed burst into a thick vine that shot up into the roof of the cave.
Up above, a boot crunched and a large, swarthy figure passed over the little, insignificant plant that sprouted from the infertile desert.
"What's this?" A rough voice wondered.
"Just a plant," one of his fellows scoffed. "You're seeing things out in the heat."
"Am not," the first one returned balefully as they continued their patrol. The tiny plant shuddered and bloomed into a tiny flower. The flower swiveled towards the front gate.
Down below, Alexios placed a hand on the vine and held out her other hand to Sadira. The mentor paused a moment, then cautiously placed her hand over Alexios's. Instantly, a crystal clear vision of the front gate popped into her head. She started, letting go of Alexios's hand. The vision faded from existence.
"Incredible," Sadira breathed, and placed her hand back over her student's.
One of the guards up above pointed at something far away, yelling incomprehensible words. The guards formed a ring facing outwards, weapons at the ready.
Up above, a massive comet of black was arcing through the sky, leaving a trail of thick smoke. It hung in the air, seeming to spend eternity suspended among the clouds.
Then it angled down.
A shrouded figure emerged from the palace and spotted the guards in a defensive circle. It looked up and its eyes narrowed as it spotted the black cloud.
It dove for cover as the meteor slammed into the dead center of the guards. A shockwave plumed out from the impact, knocking the guards down. The dust settled and a lone figure emerged.
Mozenrath, clad in armor from the waist down, stepped out and looked at his opposition. One corner of his mouth curved in a cruel smile.
"Time to go," Sadira said calmly. Alexios nodded and they both dissolved into sand.
Mozenrath rolled his shoulders and drew his khopesh from thin air. His fingers flexed and tightened over the hilt. He spread his arms.
"Well? Come and get some!" He bellowed. Two guards roared and charged, spears at the ready. Mozenrath slashed down, cutting the shaft of a spear in half, then whirled around, bringing the hookblade up and swinging his arm, yanking the spear from the man's hands and sending it hurtling into the other's chest. Mozenrath spun and planted an armored foot in the remaining one's chest, crushing his ribs.
Four more, enraged by the deaths of their comrades, roared battle cries and raised their weapons. Mozenrath tossed his sword high in the air and ran at one of them, jumping and landing on his head and pushing off to grab the sword from the air, bringing it down to stab one of the attackers in the head. Mozenrath's aura billowed around him and he stomped on the ground, sending the fallen man's weapon spinning into the air. He clenched his gauntleted fist and delivered a punch to the spinning blade, sending it flying straight into a third man.
The fourth stumbled and tripped, suddenly terrified. Mozenrath pointed a finger at him and sent a bolt of pure energy rippling into him, tearing the soldier apart.
Mozenrath, his chest heaving from his exertions, turned to face the remaining men. He raised his gauntleted hand, electricity crackling over its metallic surface.
"Die," he commanded, and the ranks of soldiers crumpled and died.
"Bravo," called a harsh voice from the gate. A shrouded figure emerged, slowly clapping. "Really, well done."
Mozenrath executed a small, mocking bow.
"Thank you. Your turn now." The figure nodded.
"We will fight- but I wonder..." The figure swept back its hood to reveal a reptillian face. A long, thin tongue slithered from its mouth, tasting the air.
"How well will you fight without magic?" It finished, and launched itself at him.
Sadira and Alexios erupted from the ground inside the armory, surprising the four men sitting around a table playing cards. One of them blinked.
"Are you angels?" The blinker whispered in awe. Sadira laughed and drew two knives.
"You wish," she said, and sent the blades spinning into two of their foreheads. Their corpses slumped over the table and the other two began to rise before Alexios scissored her arms, her whips shooting out and wrapping around their necks. She jerked and their necks snapped. Her whips slithered back into position inside her gauntlets.
Sadira nodded approvingly.
"Finally, a chance to use all that combat training, eh?" She remarked as she retrieved her knives. Alexios merely nodded- she thought that if she opened her mouth she'd puke. She hurried after Sadira, who strode purposefully out the door.
Alexios rounded the corner to see that they were surrounded by a half dozen men with crossbows. Sadira was standing in an action stance, katars out and at the ready.
"Witches, sir," one of the crossbow men reported crisply. "Shall we capture them?"
The leader mused over it, stroking his thin pencil moustache.
"Hmm... No, kill them here," pencil moustache ordered, lowering his own crossbow.
"Duck!" Sadira yelled as the twang of the crossbows sounded. Alexios hit the deck and Sadira turned to sand, five bolts passing clean through her before she reformed. The men had been uniformly arranged- too much so, as it turned out, as each of the five bolts found a target. Five men crumpled with surprised looks on their faces.
Pencil moustache scrambled back, raising his crossbow.
"Sadira!" Alexios called, raising an arm, knowing it was too late. A crossbow went off and a bolt flew into pencil moustache's hands. He screamed and dropped the crossbow, scrabbling at his belt. Sadira lunged forward and plunged her katar into his chest- and looked down. He'd managed to draw his sword and she'd just impaled herself on it.
Sadira looked at the sword in her thigh and the pooling blood with a measure of surprise.
"Bugger," she muttered and collapsed.
The mukhtar was not human, had never been human, and possessed twice the strength and speed of a human. Mozenrath was driven back by the ferocity of his attacks, straining to parry every blow.
"What's wrong, Mozenrath?" The Mukhtar taunted, kicking up sand and disappearing in the haze. "Too slow?"
A sword slashed out of nowhere, nicking Mozenrath's shoulder. He roared and lashed out, his blade meeting empty air.
"Too slow," came the voice and another sharp cut, this time on his back. Moze lashed out and missed again. Laughter, sharp and with a hissing sound, echoed around him.
"Too sl-" Mozenrath punched into the haze and pulled out the Mukhtar by the throat, cutting him off.
"What was that?" Mozenrath growled. "I couldn't hear over the sound of you choking." His fist tightened around the Mukhtar's throat.
"Tell me," Mozenrath said, bringing the Mukhtar close to his face, "Who sent you?"
The Mukhtar was a mercenary and owed allegiance to nobody except the highest bidder. In this case, that was Mozenrath.
"Aladdin," he choked out, his hands scrabbling at Mozenrath's grip. Moze frowned, relaxing his grip slightly.
"Aladdin? How does he even know I'm here? And how has he convinced the sultan to assault me?"
"Didn't," the Mukhtar rasped. "Never asked the Sultan."
"Working outside the system," Moze mused. "Maybe you're not the goodie-goodie I thought you were, Aladdin."
"Mozenrath!" Alexios's voice rang across the sands. "Sadira! Come quick!"
The terror in her voice was a blow to Mozenrath's heart. He conjured an enormous iron spike from thin air and rammed it through the Mukhtar's cloak, pinning him to the ground.
"Stay," he growled, and sprinted towards Alexios.
More men had emerged, great brutes that were armoured from head to toe and wielded mighty axes. Mozenrath blew through them without a thought, using his bare hands and using magic to rip people apart. His vision tunneled until there was only one thing in his mind.
Sadira.
There. She was lying on the ground, a pool of blood around her and an ominous red hole in her thigh. She looked unconscious.
Badger stood over her body, desperately fighting for survival. A huge bow laid abandoned at her feet, and she was fighting with two straight swords.
"Sadira!" Mozenrath roared and brought his hands together, sending a shockwave out that ripped every enemy in the corridor into a bloody red mist. He slid to his knees and cradled Sadira's head in his lap.
"Sadira," he whispered. Her eyes flickered open and her hand touched his.
"Mozenrath," she said weakly. "I'm afraid I've been hit."
He squeezed her hand.
"Don't worry, we'll have you patched up right away," he said softly, then looked over his shoulder. "Alexios!"
The Greek girl materialised by his side and dropped to her knees, sliding her gauntlets off.
"This is gonna be messy," she muttered through gritted teeth and set to work.
Mozenrath looked up at Badger, fighting to hold the corridor. Her swords were a blur as she fought. She cried out and fell as a sword slashed across her arm.
Mozenrath stood and roared. His form thickened, his face distorting until a massive black panther crouched in the corridor.
His jaws closed around an assailant. Hot blood squirted into his mouth. It tasted coppery and bitter.
I am the Guardian.
His claws shredded flesh like paper.
It was not my choice, but it is my fate.
He ripped off a head and dismembered his victim limb from limb.
I will fight to the death to protect her.
He whirled around to see a brute lifting a massive sword over his head. He was lined up to kill Sadira and Alexios. He was too far away. There was nothing he could do.
The sword flashed as it traveled down.
Hello, reader-type people! It's been a long, long time since I've updated this story, and for that, I sincerely apologize. A combination of summer and my Twitch endeavors combined to make writing a lot more difficult to find time for.
Yes, this is a cliffhanger.
No, I'm not sorry.
Yes, it will be updated- after a while.
-Pikdude