Chapter 19
The voices were insistent, tugging at him because their hands would not. Chizan found it hard to focus on one, each demand presenting itself as the one and only concern in the entire world. He thought he heard a trickle of accusation flowing under some of the words, but dismissed it as a ruse of his imagination.
"Please, sir. A little water for my family."
The Prince looked down at the wide-eyed round face of a Freelander boy. His back was straight and he did not hold out his hands, but his eyes betrayed the hurt in his soul. Chizan looked around the finely tapestried corridor, scanning the faces of the last of the refugees as they prepared to head north. They were mainly a group of mothers, children and the elderly. The young, unmarried women remained to fight with the army. The refugees all held themselves with postures of defiance, but he could see the same look of pain in all their eyes.
Chizan nodded, grabbing a jug of water and pouring it into a brown, leather water pouch. He watched with a heavy heart as the pouch began to fill; stray drops of liquid cutting a path through the dust on the outer leather before dropping to the grimy marble floor below.
He marvelled at how a straightforward diplomatic mission had led to this: a last ditch battle for survival. He recalled Ren's angry words, the hint of blame clear in their tone if not on his lips. Chizan had been at a loss to explain matters as well. All he knew was that their enemy was dangerous and sly, a greedy mind housing a rotted, unheroic heart. Still, the looks Ren gave him pierced his soul. They had grown up together, Ren and he and, although they had disagreements before, the fury that smouldered in his cousin's eyes was uncharacteristic for any Freelander, not just his best friend. His former best friend, he corrected himself with an inward sigh.
The water pouch had swelled now, bulging like a juicy, overripe fruit. Putting the jug down, he tied the neck of the pouch with a firm knot and handed it over to the boy, ruffling his hair with a smile. The boy grinned back, briefly melting Chizan's melancholy.
"Ho, Prince!" Chizan looked up to see cool, faded purple eyes levelling him with a gaze of disdain.
"Yes?" he answered, striding towards the man. He could see him more clearly now. The man's face was cracked with wrinkles and his legs were withered, small and useless. "Do you require any assistance?"
"I require answers." The man's voice had risen slightly. At the back of his mind, Chizan noted the hush that fell upon the people as all eyes turned towards them.
"I'll do what I can." The Prince stopped in front of him as he waited for the man to speak, his face impassive.
"We hear rumours," the man said, looking around at all of them now. "That you have been far from Heroic."
Chizan tensed, yet his posture remained still. "What do you mean?"
"We hear that this war is because of you. That you dishonoured the Hylian Queen and that her husband fights to restore her reputation." He said the words simply, with no anger in his voice. Yet, even the calmest of words carried the weight of something more serious.
The people waited. This was no mob like in other – lesser – countries that would be baying for blood and would pounce on the smallest mistake. The Freelanders trusted their Prince and wanted to hear his explanation.
"No, my friend," Chizan said. "Propaganda from the enemy, nothing more."
"There were witnesses. It is the talk of all the world now."
The Prince breathed deeply, drawing on the ancient teachings of his forefathers. Anger was useless. Besting another man or woman with words was nothing but the desire for one ego to subjugate another. Facts were facts. The truth always stands out against falsehood.
"The Hylian King wishes to rule the world," Chizan said, walking around slowly so that his gaze could take in all his people. "I refused to give him that privilege over us." He saw the smiles flicker on their faces. "So, he responded like a child. If he cannot possess us, he will destroy us. But this child is clever. In order to have a pretext for war, he played on the Heroic nature of the Queen Zelda." His heart throbbed involuntarily at her name and he tried to ignore it. "He set a trap. One that would appear as though the Queen and myself had been caught in a .. compromising position." He turned back to the old man. "You know me well, my people. I would never steal the honour of any lady, Freelander or not. This war is based on a lie, but the King's aim is the same. He wishes our servitude or our destruction." The man held his gaze before a moment, before giving a small, sharp nod.
The Prince closed his eyes in relief. He felt a cool hand lay on his shoulder and turned to see his cousin Ren looking at him, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"In all the time I have known you," Ren said. "I have never heard you talk so much. That must have been the longest speech you have ever made. Are you not feeling well?"
Chizan grinned, hoping that things were once again right between them.
"Walk with me," Ren said. "My honour guard will see to the people."
They strolled in silence, admiring the artistry of those that had created this hive. After meeting with his father, they had all moved to Narik's Rock itself. The ancient sanctuary was needled with marble paved paths and tunnels leading to the Labyrinth that lay at the centre. It was a home away from home, a place of quiet and contemplation.
"Some people blame you for this war," Ren said, looking straight ahead. The Prince could not truly fault them for that. His people had lost their homes and family in the face of the largest army their world had ever seen. And for what? "I blame you."
Chizan turned, searching his cousin's face for a hint of humour. Dismayed, he found that Ren's expression was statue like.
"It was not of my doing," the Prince mumbled. "Cyle would have this war, regardless of any action on my part."
Ren was silent a moment, before he added, "You have grown too attached to Zelda."
Chizan frowned, trying to still the churning of emotions within him. He was surprised to find his mouth had gone dry. "She is of many Heroic Deeds."
His cousin arched an eyebrow. "Beautiful too. And kind. A perfect match for our unmarried Prince."
Chizan did not know what to say. Just talking about her made him feel strange and light-headed. He had been captivated by her - her presence of mind, her inner strength. Yet, he did not know how to express that in words. Nor did he know how to act on it.
"Yes."
Ren turned abruptly, clutching his cloak in a tight vice. "Foolishness, Chizan. If you try and start anything with her, it will just add fuel to the rumours that you really did dishonour her." The Viceroy closed his eyes, trying to keep the snarl from his voice. "Besides. A Freelander and a Hylian? Such mixing of races is .. unwise."
The words were like arrows to Chizan's heart and again he was at a loss for words. His whole being desperately wanted the Queen, to hold her, to keep her safe, yet his mind saw the cold logic in his cousin's words.
Still, he could not keep his heart from controlling his mouth. "A marriage between her and I. It would be instant peace. Our two nations would be forever united." The Prince heard the giddy excitement in his own hopeful words and thought for a moment that someone else had uttered them.
"Prince Chizan, the lovesick puppy?" Ren said unkindly. "It does not suit you. Listen to yourself. You're hiding your selfish desires behind the pretence of desiring peace. You're better than that, cousin."
The Prince kept his face still, but inwardly burned with shame at the truth of the words. "I am sorry."
"Is it her you love, or her Deeds?" Ren asked quietly. The question confused Chizan, but before he could move to answer, Ren waved his hand with a snort. "This is not the time for this."
"No," Chizan answered. "It is the time for playing games in the Labyrinth."
Ren pursed his lips, but the Prince had not been able to resist the slight taunt. "In fact," Chizan continued. "I think it is time for me to take my leave and prepare our guests."
The Viceroy looked at him, his expression not showing whether he was offended by Chizan's attempt to be rid of his company. "As you wish."
The Prince turned on his heel, his mind and heart awhirl.
*
Cyle could not help feel a surge of pride wash his soul as his eyes fell upon the army. His army. Despite the fact that the thousands of regimented soldiers before him were made up of many nationalities, the power they all wielded was all his. They had caught up with the main army barely a few hours ago. The troops stood in the wide valley, long shields in position, rows of helmets set in a sea of dull grey as a few birds drifted in the air above watching them lazily. His head giddy and his heart light, the King felt cleansed as if he had been bathed in liquid crystal. In the distance, Cyle spied the reddish outline of Narik's Rock. They should be there by nightfall.
His fingers trembled in awe. His entire life had been preparing for this. True, there was still a long way to go yet, but he was almost humbled at how close he was. He thought he might even weep.
A flash of red-gold sunlight reflecting off of metal stole his gaze. The King turned to see Link training with a group of men, whirling and parrying their thrusts. Grins nailed on their faces, the soldiers seemed to be enjoying their time with the Hero as he barked out instructions and advice whilst being covered in a film of sweat.
Cyle felt Chalance Vance amble up beside him.
"The troops love him," his Advisor said simply.
"Not good, I take it?" Cyle asked, though he knew the answer already. His soldiers' loyalty should belong to him alone.
"No. The situation is getting dangerous."
"I wonder if he feels the same for them," Cyle said pensively as he eyed the Hero.
"He cares for no one but himself," Vance answered. Cyle had to smirk at this. Not only was it a bit presumptuous of his Advisor to reach that conclusion, but the description fit no one as perfectly as it did Chalance Vance. "Should he break from his thrall .."
Cyle turned. "I thought you said his condition was irreversible?"
Vance opened his mouth, but no words came. The King felt a flash of annoyance as he watched the sorcerer's forehead crease in a frown. "This was your idea, after all," Cyle added.
"The process was experimental." Vance licked his lips. "There was no way to be sure of the results."
"No, Chalance Vance." Cyle could not keep the heat from his voice. "I'm so close to victory now. So close. I do not need uncertainties. Nothing can halt my path now."
"His purpose will be served after this battle," the Advisor said, letting his gaze settle on Link. "Then we can remove him permanently." He turned back to the King, giving him a smile that looked out of place on his cold face. "Do not worry."
"Good," the King said, steadying his horse as she shook her head. He wondered if his steed was as unsettled as he was. A smiling Chalance Vance had about as much charm as a toothless, eyeless Ganondorf. "What news on Zelda? Is she there?" Cyle's eyes flicked to the Rock.
"My .. spies tell me that she boarded a ship named The Fountain's Wings. It did not arrive at Morolak. A Freelander warship is rumoured to have taken it. More than likely, she will partake in the battle."
Cyle's eyes narrowed as he continued to gaze at the Freelander sanctuary. The sun was setting, giving the already crimson rock a darker hue. Like blood. His heart felt hollow, childishly hoping his soul could connect with Zelda's in the distance and that he would feel the spark of something familiar.
"Where is the Key?"
Vance was silent a moment before he answered. "She is almost in our grasp."
The King chewed on his lip angrily, exasperated at his Advisor's evasiveness. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
The sorcerer looked at him, his eyes wide. Cyle could not tell whether it was surprise or injured pride he saw within them.
"Of course not, Sire. Surely you know that I am your greatest well-wisher. We have come so far together. When I have the Key, she will handed over to you without hesitation."
"Right," Cyle grunted. Still he could not shake off the disquiet. "Do not toy with me, Chalance Vance, or else you will share Link's fate."
Vance's cheek twitched. "He approaches," the sorcerer murmured.
The King looked up to see the Hero of Time saunter towards them, sheathing his sword.
"Enjoying the view?" Link asked; arms crossed over his chest and back straight.
"Another dashing pose?" Cyle said, the scorn dripping on his tongue. He turned his horse, so that he could face his one time adversary properly. "Do you practise them in front of a mirror?"
Link gave him a cold, humourless smile. His posture did not change, and he betrayed no self-consciousness. Cyle smoothed down his rich, silk tunic – creased from trying to fit his stiff, regal back - as he played with the golden rein of his horse. The sheer arrogance of the man disgusted him.
"A King and a Jester rolled into one?" the Hero of Time asked. "You must be so proud."
Cyle's fingers tensed on the rein as spikes of anger made his muscles tighten. It was bewildering that Link could annoy him so – regardless of whether he was friend or foe.
"Is there something you wished to discuss?" the King asked. His eyes felt tired. Why did all his conversations with Link follow the same path?
The blonde haired warrior looked towards Narik's Rock. "Just a little observation."
"Go on," said Cyle. Link was as bad as Chalance Vance at being ambiguous. He looked over to his Advisor, noticing that he had not spoken. The sorcerer was staring at Link intently, although his shoulders were slightly slumped. Cyle realised then that he should have just killed Link in the first place. Now it would be extra difficult, seeing how his army was so devoted to him.
"The men charged with detonating the Goron explosives," Link said. "They'll be out of sight of the battle. They need some way of being notified of when the time is right."
"And you suggest ..?"
"That I carry a horn." The Hero turned back to him. "I will, of course, be at the rear of the army protecting you." Link gave that smile again. "Since that's where you'll be positioned, no doubt."
Cyle gave him a resentful look that would have turned milk sour, but said nothing. He would fight, naturally. His restfulness had not abided, though it was now tempered by the sheer reality of war. Yes, he would fight, but he would be safe too.
"I can observe the battle from there," Link continued. "When the Freelanders are caught between the two hills, I blow the horn and this war is over."
Chalance Vance bristled. "It is not wise to entrust this to just one man."
"Fine," Link said with a shrug. "Let the King have his own horn. In the unlikely event that I fall and he still stands then he can call the attack."
Cyle ignored the implication. He watched Link carefully, searching his face for any sign of deception. Again, the plan was good. It was almost unbelievable that the Hero was so wise to the ways of slaughter.
The hollow metallic echo made Cyle freeze. Link had drawn his sword and the King's mouth dried as his heart contracted in fear. Instantly, Vance raised a hand, his fingertips crackling with energy.
Calmly, Link pointed the sword downwards then ploughed it into the ground, upending puffs of soil. The Hero knelt as Vance relaxed and Cyle caught his breath.
"Forgive my flippant tone, Your Highness," Link said, his head bowed. "But I am only giving you advice on how better to win this war. I am nothing more than your most valuable advisor." The Hero stole a glance at Vance who scowled back.
Cyle looked out towards his army as they prepared to make the final march towards Narik's Rock, their thudding boots reverberating around the valley. He looked down at Link, kneeling before him, his forehead lying humbly on the hilt of his sword.
This was so sweet he could taste it. He imagined it to be milk and honey soothing his throat and filling his soul. He wished he could breath in this moment, capture it like a fairy in a bottle and relive it over and over. All he needed was the Key and with that the adoration of every being in the universe. Life itself would love Cyle Narawan, King of Hyrule.
"So be it," he said. "The honour of the horn will be yours. I will carry a spare, in the unlikely case that you do not get the chance." Cyle smiled, for once feeling too good to be bothered by self-mockery.
"Thank you, Your Highness." His voice was hushed and Cyle gazed on him smugly. Their eyes locked for a brief instant and something twinkled in Link's stare that almost burst the balloon of joy rising in the King's heart.
Cyle hoped that the sudden chill he felt was from the passing of the sun coupled with the gust of a cool breeze and not from the dread that had just hatched in his heart.
*
Chizan could not keep his eyes off of her; no matter how hard he tried. Occasionally, he would look at Zayna or Tyron as they spoke, but always his gaze would drift back to her. Zelda was still dressed in black travel clothes, though her current attire was freshly washed. He wondered exactly when the respect he had felt for her had turned to .. this. So foolish.
"Am I not invited to this .. diversion?" Tyron asked, giving an expression of mock-hurt.
They walked through the corridors of the Rock, heading towards the Labyrinth in the centre. Only Ren would watch the spectacle as the Freelander army prepared for defence.
"No, my friend," Chizan said with a smile. "Your Heroic Deeds are not in question."
"And ours are?" Zayna asked with an acid glint in her eye.
The Prince could only shrug, making Zayna roll her eyes.
"There is something you must be aware of," Chizan continued. "No magic is to be used in this."
Zelda turned to him, her forehead slightly creased, her large eyes looking at him with a quizzical look. Inwardly, he caught a breath. How could a Hylian possess so much beauty?
"Why not, Chizan?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Magic," he said, struggling to hide his revulsion. "Is wrong."
"What? Why?" Zayna asked with a laugh.
Zelda laid a hand on the Key's arm, silencing her. "Care to explain?" she asked.
"We Freelanders do not use it," he said simply. He hoped that that would be enough, but saw that they waited for him to continue. All except Tyron, who kept his face expressionless and his gaze fixed ahead.
"The Joining, the ability to alter reality," he continued. "It is unnatural. Magic is an echo of that power. Eons ago there were .. Herzendi .. creatures, beings whose souls were twisted by envy and greed. In order to satisfy their lusts they broke the divine order that keeps the world in balance. They brought forth the power to be able to subtly affect the natural order of things. Thus, magic was born – created by evil to be used as a tool for evil."
Zelda looked down, pondering on his words. Chizan looked at Tyron who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He knew the truth of it, the Prince thought. He must do, even if won't admit it to himself.
"How did they do this?" It was the Key who had spoken. "Break the natural order?"
"No one knows," he answered. "What is known is that more and more people were able to tap into this source. They became lazy, too reliant on spells and trickery instead of getting up and do some work. They grew fat and their minds regressed to childlike states. They were easy pickings for the Herzindi. The world would have been conquered had not a group of select men and women learnt to rely on the natural divine order of things and their own individual skills to drive them back.
"Thus, the first Sages were born. After a ferocious battle, they sealed the Herzindi in the Sacred Realm where they still wait, envious and hateful. The Sages tried to hide away all the knowledge of magic, declaring it a heretical learning. They concentrated their energies on harnessing the natural rhythms of the world, which they used as a source of their own strength. To the untrained eye, it would appear they used magic themselves. They were not able to prevent the birth of magic sensitive people though." He fixed Zelda and Tyron with a stare. "Legend has it that it is a curse; a test to see if those people would their evil heritage or embrace it."
Zelda looked troubled as Tyron turned to speak. "At the foot of Death Mountain," he said quietly. "I used magic to help our escape. You would not be alive now if not for that."
Chizan kept his gaze cool and level. "I would have preferred to have died in battle then to have fled with magic."
"What about me then?" Zayna asked hotly. "Isn't my whole existence .. magical?"
"The Key is not a force for good," Chizan said bluntly.
Zayna stopped short. "What?"
The Prince looked at her calmly. They were so sensitive, these people. They had no sense of what was truly good or evil. No wonder the Freelanders had kept their distance from them. Ren's words about the mixing of races floated back to him.
"Look at it this way," he said, trying to defuse the tension. He realised that he may have been a little too pigheaded. "Is it not better to rely on your own skills and experience to make your through life instead of holding onto the crutch of magic? Hasn't your entire life been based on that principle? Especially since magic has such .. dishonourable origins."
Confusion creased Zayna's features, but her eyes still sparkled with anger. The Queen stepped in between them, the scent of her perfume distracting the Prince.
"No magic," she said. Zelda turned to Zayna. "I'm sure whatever this task is, we can handle it on our own."
Zayna nodded as they continued walking. The Prince's heart simmered. He disliked the fact that Zelda was a magic user, though he had not brought it up before. Had she been able to change her views so quickly? He looked at her, noting the thoughtful look on her face. She would learn, he knew that. He had set it in motion today.
"This is it," Chizan said, as they came upon a large, stone door. "The Labyrinth."
"I guess I wait here then," said Tyron.
"I apologise. Ren insisted on only the Queen and the Key."
"Don't worry about me," Tyron said with a wry smile to his friends. "I'll just pull rabbits out of a hat." He winked at the Prince.
Ignoring him, Chizan put a hand on the cool, hard rock and it rumbled open. The trio entered as a thin film of mist rolled lazily into their faces. The air was cool and damp and smelt of grass. Green and brown moss hung onto the grey, crumbling walls. A path was worn into the short grass on the ground.
"So ... what do we do?" the Key asked, breaking the silence. She looked around, her eyes narrowed, her hand on the hilt of her sword waiting for the slightest hint of danger. Her face was tense.
The Prince pointed at a stone pillar raised in the centre of the maze. Hanging on a loosely swaying chain above it was a pearl-ish orb, about the size of a small child's head. "We get that."
"That's it?!" Zayna looked incredulous, while the Queen looked around quietly taking in her surroundings. Relief flowed across the Key's features as she fixed a confident look on the Orb. "What's so Heroic about that? It's pointless!"
"It is not the aim that is Heroic," Chizan mumbled. "It is the sacrifice taken to achieve the aim. This is a task that is always meant to be taken by more than one person." He said the last, hoping she would get the point.
"I still say it's foolish," she sniffed. Her fingers tapped lightly on her belt.
"One person's foolishness is another's wisdom," he said. "There are small islands in the south populated by the 'Isolated Tribes'. When one of them dies, they eat the corpse. We would consider such an act barbaric, but if you told them that we bury our dead they would gasp in shock and bemoan our lack of respect. How could we leave our beloved ones to be eaten by maggots and the creatures of the soil? It's a matter of perspective."
Zayna flipped a hookshot from her belt. Chizan remembered she had asked to be equipped with one for this task. "You know," she said, her voice coated with sarcasm. "There's a reason why they call those tribes 'isolated.'"
She took aim at the ceiling and fired, while the Prince rolled his eyes at the Hylian's ignorance. With a jolt, he realised what she intended to do.
"No!" he cried, lunging towards her. "Wait!"
It was too late. She shot upwards, slowly flying towards the Orb, bending her knees to narrowly avoid the low walls.
Chizan clenched his fists, his eyes locked onto the Key. Zelda's eyes darted between him and the Key and, noticing the panic threaded through his face cried, "What? What's wrong?"
With a roar, a huge, scaly, clawed hand burst out from within the Labyrinth, its yellowing nails snapping through the hookshot's chain. Zelda gasped in shock and jumped backwards. Growling in exasperation, the Prince grabbed her wrist with a sharp tug. "Quickly!"
He led her through the maze, adrenaline coursing though his veins. He knew his way around, yet found himself hissing in annoyance at all the twists and turns as their boots scrabbled on the pebble strewn path, uprooting weeds that tangled their feet. His head began to whirl from all the narrow, curling trails. Zelda clutched his hand so tightly her nails bit into the flesh. For a horrific moment, he thought he was lost before he caught a glimpse of an orange glow behind one last wall.
Finally, they reached the clearing where Zayna lay, her eyes wide in shock as the hairy, horned beast loomed over her, molten energy pouring from its eyes and mouth. She edged backwards, her mouth opening and closing, but not releasing any sound. Letting go of the Queen the Prince drew his sword as the creature swung its claws down for another swipe.
He jumped, rolled, and then jumped up again as the claws sliced the air. He thrust the blade in front of Zayna's face just in time for it to deflect the sharp talons. The Key flinched in shock.
"Go," he whispered. She rolled out of the way, her tunic now coated in dust.
The creature thrust its free elbow into a nearby wall and it tumbled down onto the Prince, his sword still caught in the monster's hand. Chizan grunted as he was thrown to the ground. A loose rock bounced into his face, making his head spin. The beast tore the weapon from Chizan's hand and he felt the shockwave of pain run down his arm.
The Prince's world dizzied as he lost himself in the monster's glowing orange eyes. It's hand swung down, the razor-sharp nails looming larger and larger in his field of vision. He heard a voice float from somewhere behind him. Quiet, kind and thoughtful.
"It always takes two .."
Suddenly Zelda was there, plunging her sword into the beast's hand and taking the brunt of the blow with an anguished grunt. The creature howled in pain, lifting its hand up with the Queen still hanging by her sword. With a scream, it swung her in a wide arc and smashed her into the opposite wall. She stiffened with a shriek, but refused to let go.
"Move, Chizan," she gasped as blood stained her tussled hair. "Move!"
He scrambled to his feet, his heart flooding with warmth. He was deeply touched by her act. He could not think clearly and he tore at the ground, searching for his sword. He would not let it have her! And yet, a voice spoke deep within him with rock solid certainty. It was enough. Enough. Enough.
"Enough."
The creature froze as Ren's voice rang out. Zelda swung gently by the hilt of her sword, quietly moaning with pain.
Zayna ran to her. "Let her go!" She drew her sword, swinging it wildly. "Fight me instead. Come on, let her go and fight me!" She snarled, her eyes almost as red as the monster's.
Gently, the creature set Zelda down to the ground, where she crumpled in a heap. Zayna hesitated, looking at the thing with a mixture of confusion and suspicion, before she darted to the Queen, cradling her in her arms.
"You have proved your worth," Ren said, stepping from the shadows as Zayna shot him a look of pure venom. "Both of you. Saving a life – that is not considered 'heroic' with the Freelanders, for anyone that does not save a life when they have a chance has a dead soul. No, willing to sacrifice yourself for another – that is the true Heroic Deed."
"I'm so glad you approve," Zayna spat blood with her words.
"Do not worry. Our healers will tend to you."
Chizan shakily got to his feet. Ignoring his cousin, he ran over to the Queen, slipping and sliding in the dirt.
He took her hand, his purple eyes large as he gazed at her face. With his thumb, he wiped the blood from her cheeks. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much."
She looked at him and gave him a smile that made his heart ache. "Anything for a friend. No magic either." She grinned.
He grinned back and heard Ren walk up behind them. The Prince looked up and caught the angry look of disapproval in his cousin's eyes. He stood and made to speak when a dull clanging of an alarm echoed through the maze.
Ren's eyes widened. "They're here!"
*
A cool night had enveloped the land as they made their way to the edge of the Rock. Chizan's heart trembled slightly as he saw the scene. The air was hushed and felt heavy as if something terrible was about to occur.
"There's ... there's so many of them," Zelda gasped. He looked at her, saw the fear he felt reflected in her eyes.
The valley before them was covered with hundreds upon hundreds of burning torchlights, small beacons of orange light littering the ground as if the stars had fallen to the earth. Cyle's army had arrived.
"We have to get ready! Hurry!" Zayna said, still holding onto the Queen.
"No," Chizan said, his tone still displaying its usual sereneness, even though he felt far from calm. "Only a fool launches a full scale attack in darkness. There is not enough light."
The Prince placed his hands on his hips and breathed deeply. "This night we prepare and a long night it will be, Perhaps the longest of our lives. There will be no dreams tonight," he said, his voice threatening to crack. "The nightmare begins at dawn."