Chapter 6
Summer night surrounded the small village with a thick, almost palpable darkness. Watchers on the weathered palisade wall squinted past the minimal circle of light offered by the torches burning silently at set intervals, attempting to see what moved beyond their poor human vision. Men and women alike silently strode the catwalk set just below the spikes on the top end of the wall, dressed in worn leather armor and carrying spears, bows, or slingshots. Not many in the town could afford fancier weapons, such as swords and halberd lances, even if they knew how to use them. A few were lucky enough to sport a steel plate greave on an arm or leg, providing a bit of extra protection against the evil that stalked in the darkness throughout Cephiro.
Ten long years of hardship, of bloody battle and loss, had whetted the townspeople of Harowin into sharpened steel, far from the frightened farmers and merchants dependent on the King's Guardians' protection in the long ago past. The weak-willed, the sickly, the cowards - they had all been taken long ago. Strength was the byword in the streets of the village, strength and a desperate conviction that King Ferio would find a way to push back the unholy monstrosities plaguing his subjects.
Captain Kovax planted his well-used spear on the ground near his feet and cast a weary, jaded gaze over his Night Watch, the guards that had volunteered to keep their people safe during the most dangerous hours of the deep dark. The monsters tended to attack between midnight and dawn, creeping along the edge of the light until an unknown signal prompted them to begin the assault. So far, the night was empty of the hideous beasts, busy with the sounds of animal life. The music of crickets and overhead bats filled the Captain's ears with the soft illusion of peace and tranquility. He snorted at the thought. Peace was an idea he had almost forgotten. An idea better forgotten, lest he lose the fighting edge that had kept him alive through countless skirmishes. Forgotten pain, memory of close loss, stung his eyes, until he could battle the memories back behind the wall he had built. His ungloved, calloused hand tightened on his oaken spear shaft. This, he knew, was reality. This was life.
Kovax's muddy brown eyes focused on his petite First Lieutenant, Ro Jan Li. She was striding the walls with a confident, measured pace, her pure-black hair tucked neatly under a thick leather cap instead of swinging along in its usual waist-long ponytail. A sling was tied loosely to her belt, alongside the pouch full of smooth river stones the daily foraging groups collected during their trips into the surrounding forest. Her hands gripped a horn-inlaid bow nocked with a white-fletched shaft. She walked among the evenly-spaced members of the Watch, making sure all were awake and aware, for an inattentive guard could mean the loss of precious time during an attack. Ro caught her Captain's gaze and nodded acknowledgement of the silent summons, lengthening her stride slightly until she was at his side. Her midnight-blue eyes, filled with the same combination of strength, weariness, despair, and stubbornness that all the villagers seemed to possess, met Kovax's tired stare as she asked in her soft voice, "Yes, Captain?"
Kovax broke eye contact to look once more into the pervading blackness. He hated the night. "How's Norl doing? Can they save his leg?" His voice was a deep monotone, almost nonchalant in its attitude. Norl, a thin, wiry farmer well past middle age, had met with an accident earlier in the afternoon. He had been working with the large group of planters and guards that traveled every day to the fields scattered throughout the nearby Wurai Forest. The villagers had quickly learned that any fields planted in the open meadows were automatic targets of destruction, so they plowed the random clearings within the shielding trees. It was almost a relief to Kovax that the injury had come from planting, from the creation of new life. Too much blood had already been spilled serving only life's destruction.
Ro Jen Li nodded solemnly, mirroring her Captain's suspicious glance into the dark before answering. "Aye, the emergency rider got him back in time for the witch to do her work." She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "We still need more horses, though. We were lucky Norl was the only one hurt."
Captain Kovax sighed and scrubbed a hand through his tattered chocolate- brown beard. He'd known she was going to bring this up again. "Ro, there's nothing I can do. We need most of the horses we have for the Circuit riders." The Circuit was a dangerous ride with a high mortality factor, consisting of a pair of riders that traveled from town to town within a fifty-mile radius of Harowin, delivering and receiving news and supplies. The riders came in roughly once every other week, with reports of villagers like themselves protecting their own. They shared resources and tactics, making sure all were as safe as possible in these times.
The First Lieutenant nodded as though she agreed, but Kovax knew better. She would worry on this quandary like a dog on a bone until she found a way to procure more riding animals for the farmers and foragers. The Night Watch Captain smirked humorlessly. He wished her luck, but he refused to make it his problem, when there were so many others that needed his attention. He glanced above his head at the twinkling stars and noted their relative positions in the black sky. "Halfway," he grunted. Only three more hours until the light of a new dawn shimmered over the horizon, signifying a higher degree of safety than could be found in the night hours. Though no one was ever completely safe; not anymore.
"I'll see about replacing the torches," Ro stated before slipping down the catwalk. He watched her delegate the hourly check of their only light source for a moment, then returned his attention outside the wall. His sharp eyes swept the perimeter of the light circle, seeking signs of the enemy. The air had changed, somehow . . . and there was that feeling deep in his gut that seemed to appear before . . . . He drew in a sharp breath. Was that -
"Ro!" he barked. "Here they come!" He pointed his steel-tipped spear into the night, causing an outcry among the Watch as they scrambled to their appointed stations. Those with bows in hand immediately ran to the Captain's side and began firing arrows at any perceived movement. Orenia flew like a blonde eagle to the bronze gong that hung on one of the palisade's corners and started bashing the metal disk with the hammer, fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she woke the slumbering townspeople. Others among the Watch guarded the adjacent walls in case the attack on the one side was a feint, awaiting the newly-roused villagers that would shortly fill in their ranks.
Kovax strode the walkway behind his archers with an outward calm, maintaining an air of easy confidence even as the first of the horrid beasts made their way from the shadows into the flickering light. "Jain! Rannin!" he snapped abruptly. Two of his Watch standing ready on the wall with spear and sling immediately ran to the Captain's side, awaiting orders. "Get to Nim's place and make sure he brings all the arrows he's finished." The slender spearwoman and the large, beefy farm lad nodded and jogged to the nearest ladder without question. Kovax glanced at the corners of the catwalk to make sure that there was a pair of his people manning the barrels of water maintained against fire.
Each wall had its own sub-Lieutenant in command. Ro had charge of the archers, and Kovax himself oversaw the operation, solving inevitable problems and redirecting fighters as was necessary. The years of battle and blood had created this scheme, crafted through trial and error. And when error was fatal, the trial must needs be quick. Kovax grunted in satisfaction as he watched the walls fill with people. They knew that minutes made a difference in battle through hard experience, and there was not one of them who did not sleep with weapon and armor close to hand. He returned to pacing stiffly behind the archers, surveying the oncoming Gorgani. They were mammoth beasts, large with fat and muscle encased by sickly-looking yellow-green skin and coarse black hair. Their evil eyes picked up the light with an evil, sulfurous glow. The Captain shuddered slightly at the vicious joy those eyes emitted. He would never understand the monsters' need for mayhem and destruction, but this knowledge was not necessary to kill them.
The beasts bellowed loudly in pain as arrows sizzled through the air, many embedding themselves into an oncoming brute. The other walls were free of any attack, and this in itself made Kovax suspicious. It was almost laughably simple to keep the assaulted wall empty for a dozen yards; huge carcasses were piling up just within the circle of light. He watched as the monsters charged and died. There was something mechanical about their attack that did not sit well with him - they usually either gave up at this point, if they didn't feel they had enough to take the walls, or sent in reinforcements. But as far as he could see, there was just a never-ending supply of live bodies . . . to keep them occupied. What were they up to? Kovax's brow furrowed as he frowned worriedly. He spun away from the wall, the archers behind him still loosing arrows with deadly precision, and stalked along the catwalk, squinting desperately into the darkness.
He was nearly on the opposite wall when he felt it. Tremors, slight vibrations, shook the wall with ever-increasing strength, until people tumbled off the walls with screams filled with fear. Kovax turned swiftly around, throwing out a hand to the palisade to keep his balance. He could barely make out Ro Jan Li on the other wall, holding on with all her strength as her legs wavered like trees in the gales of a hurricane. A sharp CRACK swiveled his attention to the center of town, where fissures and crevices were running through the dirt streets. As he observed with growing horror, shutting out the sounds of panicking villagers and his officers who struggled to control the situation, a deep hole suddenly appeared in the town square, the level ground dropping like something was . . . digging under it . . . .
"NOOOOOOOO!!" Kovax cried as Gorgani poured out of the hole.
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Ferio awoke suddenly, as he always did, with no transition from sleep to awareness. He had not always been so, however he had found that quick reflexes in all aspects of living kept a man alive. At least a little longer. Daylight was pouring in from his windows; the sun was at a high enough angle that he knew it was well past dawn, when he generally arose to meet the day. The King was stripped down to his underclothes and tucked neatly in bed, an operation he vaguely remembered from the previous night, when his squires had woken him from his nap in the chair and readied their Lord for bed. He rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin and sat up, the white lock of hair falling into his eyes again. He spared a moment of annoyance for the length of his hair - he really had to remember to call for a barber soon - and brushed it out of his vision. He threw aside the emerald green coverlets and rose, stretching his arm slowly out and back to relieve a sore shoulder. *A new day,* he thought without any real enthusiasm. His shimmering golden eyes stared dully about his bedroom, tidied up from the mess he had left prior to the battle the day before, and he sighed. *They cleaned. I hate it when they clean. I can never find all of my clothes when they clean.*
He shrugged despondently, wincing as his shoulder muscle twinged, and shuffled into the bathing chamber. *Time to go be King.*
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A short time later, King Ferio was clean and dressed. He had decided to wear his white leather tunic and leggings, each tooled with intricate gold designs that sparkled when they caught the light. If one was King, one might as well look the part, he mused. He sat in the War Room at the head of a long wooden table, which was polished to an almost painful glow. His generals, men and women both, lined each side and patiently waited for their King to begin. Hope shone faintly in their eyes as they watched him; though it was almost drowned out by despair and the underlying horror of too many battles, too much death.
Ferio cleared his throat and stood. He wasted a futile moment to regret the absence of his friend and ally Lantis, who was helping the defense and rebuild of Khaal after the battle. He jerked his head at Raili, one of his squires standing ready at the door. Without a word, the teenage boy with short, bristly black hair and the long, gawky muscles of a man not yet fully grown turned down the lamps and switched on the 3-D display map that exhibited the entire planet of Cephiro in detail. Each and every small village and large city was shown, interspersed among green plains and snow- capped mountains. Previous battles were small red dots scattered over the face of the map, many of them nearby former habitations labeled as 'DESTROYED' in relatively large, bold yellow script.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ferio began, "We'll begin the meeting with a review of yesterday's battle." He pointed out a white star nestled along the base of the Khaal Mountains. The generals nodded as one, and all eyes were trained on the map as miniature armies appeared; the sickly green was obviously the enemy, while the deep gold positioned around the large city of Khaal represented the King's Guardians, the main force of his army. Ferio leaned over the table and pointed out the enemy army as they moved in slow motion towards the waiting gold markers. "They appeared only ten miles from Khaal. The dragon riders were on patrol outside the city and were able to return in time to warn the standing army, which is the only reason we still have a city standing." The King's lips pressed in a thin line as he tried not to think about what would have happened had the riders been delayed, or killed, or had not seen the enemy at all. Too much of that nature had happened in the past, and while this encounter had ended in a welcome and all-too-rare victory, there had to be a way to better predict the movements of the Gorgani. There had to be.
He straightened as the battle on the map proceeded, the gold marks eventually surrounding and annihilating the green. "There were no survivors among the Gorgani," Ferio said flatly. Another dilemma for which he had no solution. "Once again, those who lived through the battle fell upon their own knives when it was apparent they were going to lose."
He shifted his hard gaze to his General Commander, Kyli. She gazed back with no outward sign of discomfort, her own jewel-toned irises, shimmering with iridescence more often associated with opals than human eyes, meeting her King's golden-amber orbs. The General Commander, akin to the rest of the generals present, was dressed for battle. Her silver-tooled, black leather breastplate fit her torso perfectly, the designs of dragons in flight and shining stars indicating that she was a Dragon Rider Commander, as the shimmering silver cloak pinned with a green-enameled brooch in the shape of a phoenix in flight named her General Commander of the King's Guardians. A silver helm with a full face guard rested on the table beside her. She would wrap the long blonde braid that hung down her back around her head for padding before putting the helmet on. She had brought her long-bladed knife and Katar, a weapon often called a 'punching knife,' since the hilt was crafted in the shape of an H, the grip perpendicular to the blade, and was handled like one was throwing punches (though with six inches of steel at the end of the knuckles). She had left her light crossbow and steel-headed morning star in her squire's care for the duration of the meeting.
"Have you found where the Gorgani are coming from, Kyli?" Ferio asked, as he asked at every meeting. He expected no answer other than the usual 'I do not know, my King,' which was all the answer she could give him. No one knew. It was General Commander Kyli's charge to find out, however, and Ferio would hold her to that responsibility.
"I believe we may have a lead on that, my Lord," Kyli answered, her lips quirking in a small, smug smile as Ferio's jaw dropped slightly. A murmur of voices filled the small room, the other five generals whispering in surprise.
"What lead? What are you talking about?" demanded Kevrin, the aging general in command of the ground troops. His iron-gray hair flowed majestically to his shoulders, complementing the full beard that covered the lower half of his face, beneath a hooked nose and gray eyes that seemed chipped from a piece of flint. He stood and swept his glistening scarlet cloak, the cloak of the Infantry Commander, behind his shoulder, revealing his black leather armor, worked across his broad chest in bronze spears and swords. "I demand to know what you have found!"
Kyli stood as well, barely glancing at the irate general before summoning Raili with a crook of her finger. She arched an eyebrow at Ferio, murmuring, "With your permission, my King?" He nodded slightly, trying to suppress his surprise and the feeling deep in his chest, a feeling he had not been the recipient of in almost ten years - hope. The General Commander spoke a soft command in the squire's ear, then stood in an almost unbearable silence as the boy trotted to the ivory door which was the only exit from the room, letting in both a beam of light, slightly blinding those closest to the door, and a pair of people.
Both were extremely filthy, covered in dirt and old blood, their haggard expressions shouting out their exhaustion and desolation. The male walked slightly ahead of the smaller female, indicating that he was the one in charge. He was a big man, middle-aged, and taller than even general Kevrin, who was otherwise the tallest in the room. His skin was weathered and darkly tanned, suggesting he was among those who spent their lives laboring in the sun. *Perhaps a planter,* Ferio guessed. His deep brown beard was tangled and tattered, as were his curling locks of hair. The woman stood in his shadow, her dark blue eyes gleaming with intelligence as she glanced first at the assembled generals, then at the map, then finally at Ferio. The King met her steely gaze easily. She was the first to glance away, looking down at the tiles on the floor. They were both dressed in mismatched armor, and neither carried a weapon. They fell to one knee upon reaching the King, staring intently at the floor near his white leather boots.
"Who are these people?" Ferio asked quietly, addressing his General Commander though he kept his eyes on the newcomers. "Rise, please. It seems you've come on a long journey, and the floor is not very comfortable in here." Kyli placed her ungloved hand on the man's shoulder and answered pridefully, "They recently survived an attack by the Gorgani on their village." She paused significantly. "They witnessed the arrival of the monsters in the town square, inside the palisade wall they had built." Gasps and whispers sounded throughout the room. Ferio sat abruptly, the heavy pressure of hope in his chest sharpening until he could hardly breathe. "What are your names?" he asked hoarsely. The pair glanced up once more, but seemed more comfortable staring at the King's chest rather than looking at his face.
"Kovax. Captain Kovax," the man said in a slow drawl. "Captain of the Harowin Night Watch." He hesitated, and Kyli nudged him meaningfully "Uh, Your Majesty," he added hastily, his chocolate eyes dropping as his cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment.
"I am Ro Jan Li, Your Majesty," the woman said in a strong tenor, obviously trying to cover for Kovax's slip. She glanced up once more with innate, quiet dignity and met Ferio's slightly shocked, though eager gaze. "First Lieutenant of the Harowin Night Watch."
Ferio nodded regally, excitement building as he pondered the possibilities of this miracle. "Kevrin, Aranth!" he barked. The Infantry Commander and the Cavalry Commander jolted out of their private musings at the sound of their names, but stood immediately, awaiting their King's orders. "Give these good people your seats. They have come far, and are weary." The two generals bowed deeply to the King and stepped back to the wall, standing at attention like guards at their posts. The Harowin villagers glanced at each other, then mechanically strode to the newly-emptied chairs under the gentle guidance of the General Commander. Kovax sat heavily, as though his knees would no longer support him, and Ro Jan Li did not show much more grace. Ferio waited until the two were seated, relief unconsciously reflected on their faces, before he began firing off questions in the tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed, and obeyed promptly.
"Harowin, that is northeast of the Palace, is it not?" Ferio barely waited for Kovax and Ro Jan Li to nod before continuing. "The coalition of your villages, those in the Wurai Forest, was it still effective at the time of the attack?" A Circuit rider was dispatched to the Palace once every month, with news of the villages. Similar coalitions had formed all over Cephiro, the townspeople protecting themselves where Ferio and his Guardians could not. Kovax nodded. "Aye, m'Lord . . . Your Majesty. The Circuit riders had just passed through four days before." He shifted slightly in his chair. "No one saw hide nor hair of the Gorgani for a few weeks, almost a month." He sighed, glancing at the map and searching with his eyes until he found Harowin, which dissolved even as he watched by the magic powering the map and was replaced by the yellow-scripted word, 'DESTROYED.'
Ferio nodded absently. "And what did you see?" he asked softly, almost whispering. Kovax faced the King squarely and described the hopeless battle from beginning to end, with Ro chiming in here and there, inserting her perspective from the opposite side of town. Tears rolled unchecked down the First Lieutenant's cheeks at the recital, recalling her to a place of blood and horror, where her fellow townspeople had been slaughtered with no quarter asked or granted. The Night Watch Captain's face only grew ever more like stone, sealing his emotions inside. "We had an escape route all planned out, if something like this happened," Kovax continued. "One or two people were to escape, more if possible, and get to the Palace. There was a small passage by the wall where we kept a couple of horses." His eyes glazed in memory, and he shivered involuntarily. "It was all over . . . just over - so fast. Ro and I . . . we were the only ones left. Everyone else is dead . . .killed after the hole opened up."
"This hole," Kyli interrupted, drumming her fingers on the table, her face set in thoughtful lines. "Why have we never seen the like before?"
"Because it closed right after the Gorgani came out," Ro said, wiping the wetness away from her face with a dirty hand, leaving additional streaks joining the ones already decorating her cheeks like war paint.
Ferio glanced sharply at the black-haired woman. "What do you mean 'closed?' They threw dirt back into it?"
Ro Jan Li shook her head. "No, Your Majesty. It was some kind of sorcery, more powerful than I have ever seen. One moment the hole was there, the next it was gone. It was a difficult thing to miss, even in the midst of fighting for my life." Shocked murmurings once again filled the War Room at this revelation.
Ferio sat and deliberated, his hand absently rubbing his as-yet-unshaven cheek, pondering the value of this new information. *If they closed the hole, there may be no way to discover where they came from . . . unless . . . .* His head snapped up. "Raili, go to Guru Clef's rooms and discover whether he can join us -" He halted his speech abruptly as the door opened, revealing the Guru in its frame, surrounded by a halo of light.
"My King," the small man, only half the King's own height, said formally, dipping into a respectful bow. The Guru, head sorcerer of Cephiro, did not bend knee to anyone, even the King.
"Clef. Good. I was about to send for you," Ferio said, waving the little man into the room. "We may have an idea of where those damned monsters are coming from -" He frowned in puzzlement, his brow lowering over his amber eyes as his sorcerer did not budge from the doorway. "What is it, Clef?"
The Guru smiled, his entire face seeming to light up from within, radiating a deep, contented joy. Ferio stood slowly. "Clef . . . ."
"Come with me, my King," Clef said, his voice reflecting his inner satisfaction. He tapped his ornate staff on the tile floor lightly for emphasis. "They have come." With no further explanation, the lavender- haired sorcerer turned and departed.
"Who has come, my King?" Kyli inquired after a slight pause. Ferio shook his head, as thoroughly confused as anyone. "I don't know." He turned his head from the now-empty doorway, the door still ajar, and ordered his generals to ready their soldiers for march. "We go to Harowin," he said when they inquired as to their destination. "Raili, make sure the Captain and his First Lieutenant receive the best care we can provide." He threw a measured glance in their direction. "We owe them much. We march tomorrow." He was out the door before those in the War Room had finished their bows.
King Ferio strode briskly through the ivory hallways, the white marble underfoot clicking with each footfall. He saw Clef awaiting him at the end of the passage, looking like a burly dwarf in the voluminous gold-trimmed white robes he preferred, though truthfully the mage's body was very leanly muscled and trim. They fell into step with each other, Ferio shortening his impatient gait until his Guru could comfortably keep up. They walked silently together for a time, turning left here, taking the next right, as Clef directed. Most of the Palace corridors appeared similar, in that they were a uniform white color. The doorways to rooms and other passages were high arches, skillfully carved with the Flying Phoenix, the device of Ferio's kingship.
Impatience boiled up in Ferio, forcing him to give up the waiting game and ask in a tight voice, "Well, Guru? What is so important that I must be pulled away from the biggest breakthrough we have had throughout this entire War?"
Clef serenely kept his peace, advising the King to patience as they entered the section of the Palace set aside as living quarters for ambassadors and other highly-placed officials. Clef paused in front of an ivory door, unremarkable in its appearance, and waited a moment, the joy in his eyes making him lose control long enough to give a quick shiver of excitement. "In there, my King," he all but whispered, pointing with his staff.
Ferio looked at the little man in annoyed puzzlement, then let out a breath in a huff and pushed open the door. He snapped on the lights with irritation and glared at Clef. "Well?" he asked gruffly. The Guru merely pointed his staff at the bedroom door, indicating that he enter.
"Clef!" the King snapped, his patience with the Guru's silence rapidly thinning, allowing the rise of his formidable temper. "What in blazes do you bring me here for? Answer me, little man!"
Clef left his staff pointed at the door and did not reply. Ferio knew he would get little out of the sorcerer while he was busy being inscrutable, so the King growled his displeasure and marched stiffly to the bedchamber, slapping the door open without slowing. He angrily flicked the lamp on and turned to survey the room . . . stopping with a numbing, heartrending shock as his angry golden gaze fell on the huge bed. He fell to his knees, suddenly weak, unable to feel, unable to take in what he saw as true and not a vision.
There in the large, canopied bed lay an unconscious woman with chin-length blonde hair. She wore enameled green armor the exact shade of a perfect emerald, the exact shade, he knew in his memories, as her beautiful emerald eyes. The Magic Knight of Wind, Fuu . . . had returned to Cephiro.
Summer night surrounded the small village with a thick, almost palpable darkness. Watchers on the weathered palisade wall squinted past the minimal circle of light offered by the torches burning silently at set intervals, attempting to see what moved beyond their poor human vision. Men and women alike silently strode the catwalk set just below the spikes on the top end of the wall, dressed in worn leather armor and carrying spears, bows, or slingshots. Not many in the town could afford fancier weapons, such as swords and halberd lances, even if they knew how to use them. A few were lucky enough to sport a steel plate greave on an arm or leg, providing a bit of extra protection against the evil that stalked in the darkness throughout Cephiro.
Ten long years of hardship, of bloody battle and loss, had whetted the townspeople of Harowin into sharpened steel, far from the frightened farmers and merchants dependent on the King's Guardians' protection in the long ago past. The weak-willed, the sickly, the cowards - they had all been taken long ago. Strength was the byword in the streets of the village, strength and a desperate conviction that King Ferio would find a way to push back the unholy monstrosities plaguing his subjects.
Captain Kovax planted his well-used spear on the ground near his feet and cast a weary, jaded gaze over his Night Watch, the guards that had volunteered to keep their people safe during the most dangerous hours of the deep dark. The monsters tended to attack between midnight and dawn, creeping along the edge of the light until an unknown signal prompted them to begin the assault. So far, the night was empty of the hideous beasts, busy with the sounds of animal life. The music of crickets and overhead bats filled the Captain's ears with the soft illusion of peace and tranquility. He snorted at the thought. Peace was an idea he had almost forgotten. An idea better forgotten, lest he lose the fighting edge that had kept him alive through countless skirmishes. Forgotten pain, memory of close loss, stung his eyes, until he could battle the memories back behind the wall he had built. His ungloved, calloused hand tightened on his oaken spear shaft. This, he knew, was reality. This was life.
Kovax's muddy brown eyes focused on his petite First Lieutenant, Ro Jan Li. She was striding the walls with a confident, measured pace, her pure-black hair tucked neatly under a thick leather cap instead of swinging along in its usual waist-long ponytail. A sling was tied loosely to her belt, alongside the pouch full of smooth river stones the daily foraging groups collected during their trips into the surrounding forest. Her hands gripped a horn-inlaid bow nocked with a white-fletched shaft. She walked among the evenly-spaced members of the Watch, making sure all were awake and aware, for an inattentive guard could mean the loss of precious time during an attack. Ro caught her Captain's gaze and nodded acknowledgement of the silent summons, lengthening her stride slightly until she was at his side. Her midnight-blue eyes, filled with the same combination of strength, weariness, despair, and stubbornness that all the villagers seemed to possess, met Kovax's tired stare as she asked in her soft voice, "Yes, Captain?"
Kovax broke eye contact to look once more into the pervading blackness. He hated the night. "How's Norl doing? Can they save his leg?" His voice was a deep monotone, almost nonchalant in its attitude. Norl, a thin, wiry farmer well past middle age, had met with an accident earlier in the afternoon. He had been working with the large group of planters and guards that traveled every day to the fields scattered throughout the nearby Wurai Forest. The villagers had quickly learned that any fields planted in the open meadows were automatic targets of destruction, so they plowed the random clearings within the shielding trees. It was almost a relief to Kovax that the injury had come from planting, from the creation of new life. Too much blood had already been spilled serving only life's destruction.
Ro Jen Li nodded solemnly, mirroring her Captain's suspicious glance into the dark before answering. "Aye, the emergency rider got him back in time for the witch to do her work." She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "We still need more horses, though. We were lucky Norl was the only one hurt."
Captain Kovax sighed and scrubbed a hand through his tattered chocolate- brown beard. He'd known she was going to bring this up again. "Ro, there's nothing I can do. We need most of the horses we have for the Circuit riders." The Circuit was a dangerous ride with a high mortality factor, consisting of a pair of riders that traveled from town to town within a fifty-mile radius of Harowin, delivering and receiving news and supplies. The riders came in roughly once every other week, with reports of villagers like themselves protecting their own. They shared resources and tactics, making sure all were as safe as possible in these times.
The First Lieutenant nodded as though she agreed, but Kovax knew better. She would worry on this quandary like a dog on a bone until she found a way to procure more riding animals for the farmers and foragers. The Night Watch Captain smirked humorlessly. He wished her luck, but he refused to make it his problem, when there were so many others that needed his attention. He glanced above his head at the twinkling stars and noted their relative positions in the black sky. "Halfway," he grunted. Only three more hours until the light of a new dawn shimmered over the horizon, signifying a higher degree of safety than could be found in the night hours. Though no one was ever completely safe; not anymore.
"I'll see about replacing the torches," Ro stated before slipping down the catwalk. He watched her delegate the hourly check of their only light source for a moment, then returned his attention outside the wall. His sharp eyes swept the perimeter of the light circle, seeking signs of the enemy. The air had changed, somehow . . . and there was that feeling deep in his gut that seemed to appear before . . . . He drew in a sharp breath. Was that -
"Ro!" he barked. "Here they come!" He pointed his steel-tipped spear into the night, causing an outcry among the Watch as they scrambled to their appointed stations. Those with bows in hand immediately ran to the Captain's side and began firing arrows at any perceived movement. Orenia flew like a blonde eagle to the bronze gong that hung on one of the palisade's corners and started bashing the metal disk with the hammer, fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she woke the slumbering townspeople. Others among the Watch guarded the adjacent walls in case the attack on the one side was a feint, awaiting the newly-roused villagers that would shortly fill in their ranks.
Kovax strode the walkway behind his archers with an outward calm, maintaining an air of easy confidence even as the first of the horrid beasts made their way from the shadows into the flickering light. "Jain! Rannin!" he snapped abruptly. Two of his Watch standing ready on the wall with spear and sling immediately ran to the Captain's side, awaiting orders. "Get to Nim's place and make sure he brings all the arrows he's finished." The slender spearwoman and the large, beefy farm lad nodded and jogged to the nearest ladder without question. Kovax glanced at the corners of the catwalk to make sure that there was a pair of his people manning the barrels of water maintained against fire.
Each wall had its own sub-Lieutenant in command. Ro had charge of the archers, and Kovax himself oversaw the operation, solving inevitable problems and redirecting fighters as was necessary. The years of battle and blood had created this scheme, crafted through trial and error. And when error was fatal, the trial must needs be quick. Kovax grunted in satisfaction as he watched the walls fill with people. They knew that minutes made a difference in battle through hard experience, and there was not one of them who did not sleep with weapon and armor close to hand. He returned to pacing stiffly behind the archers, surveying the oncoming Gorgani. They were mammoth beasts, large with fat and muscle encased by sickly-looking yellow-green skin and coarse black hair. Their evil eyes picked up the light with an evil, sulfurous glow. The Captain shuddered slightly at the vicious joy those eyes emitted. He would never understand the monsters' need for mayhem and destruction, but this knowledge was not necessary to kill them.
The beasts bellowed loudly in pain as arrows sizzled through the air, many embedding themselves into an oncoming brute. The other walls were free of any attack, and this in itself made Kovax suspicious. It was almost laughably simple to keep the assaulted wall empty for a dozen yards; huge carcasses were piling up just within the circle of light. He watched as the monsters charged and died. There was something mechanical about their attack that did not sit well with him - they usually either gave up at this point, if they didn't feel they had enough to take the walls, or sent in reinforcements. But as far as he could see, there was just a never-ending supply of live bodies . . . to keep them occupied. What were they up to? Kovax's brow furrowed as he frowned worriedly. He spun away from the wall, the archers behind him still loosing arrows with deadly precision, and stalked along the catwalk, squinting desperately into the darkness.
He was nearly on the opposite wall when he felt it. Tremors, slight vibrations, shook the wall with ever-increasing strength, until people tumbled off the walls with screams filled with fear. Kovax turned swiftly around, throwing out a hand to the palisade to keep his balance. He could barely make out Ro Jan Li on the other wall, holding on with all her strength as her legs wavered like trees in the gales of a hurricane. A sharp CRACK swiveled his attention to the center of town, where fissures and crevices were running through the dirt streets. As he observed with growing horror, shutting out the sounds of panicking villagers and his officers who struggled to control the situation, a deep hole suddenly appeared in the town square, the level ground dropping like something was . . . digging under it . . . .
"NOOOOOOOO!!" Kovax cried as Gorgani poured out of the hole.
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Ferio awoke suddenly, as he always did, with no transition from sleep to awareness. He had not always been so, however he had found that quick reflexes in all aspects of living kept a man alive. At least a little longer. Daylight was pouring in from his windows; the sun was at a high enough angle that he knew it was well past dawn, when he generally arose to meet the day. The King was stripped down to his underclothes and tucked neatly in bed, an operation he vaguely remembered from the previous night, when his squires had woken him from his nap in the chair and readied their Lord for bed. He rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin and sat up, the white lock of hair falling into his eyes again. He spared a moment of annoyance for the length of his hair - he really had to remember to call for a barber soon - and brushed it out of his vision. He threw aside the emerald green coverlets and rose, stretching his arm slowly out and back to relieve a sore shoulder. *A new day,* he thought without any real enthusiasm. His shimmering golden eyes stared dully about his bedroom, tidied up from the mess he had left prior to the battle the day before, and he sighed. *They cleaned. I hate it when they clean. I can never find all of my clothes when they clean.*
He shrugged despondently, wincing as his shoulder muscle twinged, and shuffled into the bathing chamber. *Time to go be King.*
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A short time later, King Ferio was clean and dressed. He had decided to wear his white leather tunic and leggings, each tooled with intricate gold designs that sparkled when they caught the light. If one was King, one might as well look the part, he mused. He sat in the War Room at the head of a long wooden table, which was polished to an almost painful glow. His generals, men and women both, lined each side and patiently waited for their King to begin. Hope shone faintly in their eyes as they watched him; though it was almost drowned out by despair and the underlying horror of too many battles, too much death.
Ferio cleared his throat and stood. He wasted a futile moment to regret the absence of his friend and ally Lantis, who was helping the defense and rebuild of Khaal after the battle. He jerked his head at Raili, one of his squires standing ready at the door. Without a word, the teenage boy with short, bristly black hair and the long, gawky muscles of a man not yet fully grown turned down the lamps and switched on the 3-D display map that exhibited the entire planet of Cephiro in detail. Each and every small village and large city was shown, interspersed among green plains and snow- capped mountains. Previous battles were small red dots scattered over the face of the map, many of them nearby former habitations labeled as 'DESTROYED' in relatively large, bold yellow script.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ferio began, "We'll begin the meeting with a review of yesterday's battle." He pointed out a white star nestled along the base of the Khaal Mountains. The generals nodded as one, and all eyes were trained on the map as miniature armies appeared; the sickly green was obviously the enemy, while the deep gold positioned around the large city of Khaal represented the King's Guardians, the main force of his army. Ferio leaned over the table and pointed out the enemy army as they moved in slow motion towards the waiting gold markers. "They appeared only ten miles from Khaal. The dragon riders were on patrol outside the city and were able to return in time to warn the standing army, which is the only reason we still have a city standing." The King's lips pressed in a thin line as he tried not to think about what would have happened had the riders been delayed, or killed, or had not seen the enemy at all. Too much of that nature had happened in the past, and while this encounter had ended in a welcome and all-too-rare victory, there had to be a way to better predict the movements of the Gorgani. There had to be.
He straightened as the battle on the map proceeded, the gold marks eventually surrounding and annihilating the green. "There were no survivors among the Gorgani," Ferio said flatly. Another dilemma for which he had no solution. "Once again, those who lived through the battle fell upon their own knives when it was apparent they were going to lose."
He shifted his hard gaze to his General Commander, Kyli. She gazed back with no outward sign of discomfort, her own jewel-toned irises, shimmering with iridescence more often associated with opals than human eyes, meeting her King's golden-amber orbs. The General Commander, akin to the rest of the generals present, was dressed for battle. Her silver-tooled, black leather breastplate fit her torso perfectly, the designs of dragons in flight and shining stars indicating that she was a Dragon Rider Commander, as the shimmering silver cloak pinned with a green-enameled brooch in the shape of a phoenix in flight named her General Commander of the King's Guardians. A silver helm with a full face guard rested on the table beside her. She would wrap the long blonde braid that hung down her back around her head for padding before putting the helmet on. She had brought her long-bladed knife and Katar, a weapon often called a 'punching knife,' since the hilt was crafted in the shape of an H, the grip perpendicular to the blade, and was handled like one was throwing punches (though with six inches of steel at the end of the knuckles). She had left her light crossbow and steel-headed morning star in her squire's care for the duration of the meeting.
"Have you found where the Gorgani are coming from, Kyli?" Ferio asked, as he asked at every meeting. He expected no answer other than the usual 'I do not know, my King,' which was all the answer she could give him. No one knew. It was General Commander Kyli's charge to find out, however, and Ferio would hold her to that responsibility.
"I believe we may have a lead on that, my Lord," Kyli answered, her lips quirking in a small, smug smile as Ferio's jaw dropped slightly. A murmur of voices filled the small room, the other five generals whispering in surprise.
"What lead? What are you talking about?" demanded Kevrin, the aging general in command of the ground troops. His iron-gray hair flowed majestically to his shoulders, complementing the full beard that covered the lower half of his face, beneath a hooked nose and gray eyes that seemed chipped from a piece of flint. He stood and swept his glistening scarlet cloak, the cloak of the Infantry Commander, behind his shoulder, revealing his black leather armor, worked across his broad chest in bronze spears and swords. "I demand to know what you have found!"
Kyli stood as well, barely glancing at the irate general before summoning Raili with a crook of her finger. She arched an eyebrow at Ferio, murmuring, "With your permission, my King?" He nodded slightly, trying to suppress his surprise and the feeling deep in his chest, a feeling he had not been the recipient of in almost ten years - hope. The General Commander spoke a soft command in the squire's ear, then stood in an almost unbearable silence as the boy trotted to the ivory door which was the only exit from the room, letting in both a beam of light, slightly blinding those closest to the door, and a pair of people.
Both were extremely filthy, covered in dirt and old blood, their haggard expressions shouting out their exhaustion and desolation. The male walked slightly ahead of the smaller female, indicating that he was the one in charge. He was a big man, middle-aged, and taller than even general Kevrin, who was otherwise the tallest in the room. His skin was weathered and darkly tanned, suggesting he was among those who spent their lives laboring in the sun. *Perhaps a planter,* Ferio guessed. His deep brown beard was tangled and tattered, as were his curling locks of hair. The woman stood in his shadow, her dark blue eyes gleaming with intelligence as she glanced first at the assembled generals, then at the map, then finally at Ferio. The King met her steely gaze easily. She was the first to glance away, looking down at the tiles on the floor. They were both dressed in mismatched armor, and neither carried a weapon. They fell to one knee upon reaching the King, staring intently at the floor near his white leather boots.
"Who are these people?" Ferio asked quietly, addressing his General Commander though he kept his eyes on the newcomers. "Rise, please. It seems you've come on a long journey, and the floor is not very comfortable in here." Kyli placed her ungloved hand on the man's shoulder and answered pridefully, "They recently survived an attack by the Gorgani on their village." She paused significantly. "They witnessed the arrival of the monsters in the town square, inside the palisade wall they had built." Gasps and whispers sounded throughout the room. Ferio sat abruptly, the heavy pressure of hope in his chest sharpening until he could hardly breathe. "What are your names?" he asked hoarsely. The pair glanced up once more, but seemed more comfortable staring at the King's chest rather than looking at his face.
"Kovax. Captain Kovax," the man said in a slow drawl. "Captain of the Harowin Night Watch." He hesitated, and Kyli nudged him meaningfully "Uh, Your Majesty," he added hastily, his chocolate eyes dropping as his cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment.
"I am Ro Jan Li, Your Majesty," the woman said in a strong tenor, obviously trying to cover for Kovax's slip. She glanced up once more with innate, quiet dignity and met Ferio's slightly shocked, though eager gaze. "First Lieutenant of the Harowin Night Watch."
Ferio nodded regally, excitement building as he pondered the possibilities of this miracle. "Kevrin, Aranth!" he barked. The Infantry Commander and the Cavalry Commander jolted out of their private musings at the sound of their names, but stood immediately, awaiting their King's orders. "Give these good people your seats. They have come far, and are weary." The two generals bowed deeply to the King and stepped back to the wall, standing at attention like guards at their posts. The Harowin villagers glanced at each other, then mechanically strode to the newly-emptied chairs under the gentle guidance of the General Commander. Kovax sat heavily, as though his knees would no longer support him, and Ro Jan Li did not show much more grace. Ferio waited until the two were seated, relief unconsciously reflected on their faces, before he began firing off questions in the tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed, and obeyed promptly.
"Harowin, that is northeast of the Palace, is it not?" Ferio barely waited for Kovax and Ro Jan Li to nod before continuing. "The coalition of your villages, those in the Wurai Forest, was it still effective at the time of the attack?" A Circuit rider was dispatched to the Palace once every month, with news of the villages. Similar coalitions had formed all over Cephiro, the townspeople protecting themselves where Ferio and his Guardians could not. Kovax nodded. "Aye, m'Lord . . . Your Majesty. The Circuit riders had just passed through four days before." He shifted slightly in his chair. "No one saw hide nor hair of the Gorgani for a few weeks, almost a month." He sighed, glancing at the map and searching with his eyes until he found Harowin, which dissolved even as he watched by the magic powering the map and was replaced by the yellow-scripted word, 'DESTROYED.'
Ferio nodded absently. "And what did you see?" he asked softly, almost whispering. Kovax faced the King squarely and described the hopeless battle from beginning to end, with Ro chiming in here and there, inserting her perspective from the opposite side of town. Tears rolled unchecked down the First Lieutenant's cheeks at the recital, recalling her to a place of blood and horror, where her fellow townspeople had been slaughtered with no quarter asked or granted. The Night Watch Captain's face only grew ever more like stone, sealing his emotions inside. "We had an escape route all planned out, if something like this happened," Kovax continued. "One or two people were to escape, more if possible, and get to the Palace. There was a small passage by the wall where we kept a couple of horses." His eyes glazed in memory, and he shivered involuntarily. "It was all over . . . just over - so fast. Ro and I . . . we were the only ones left. Everyone else is dead . . .killed after the hole opened up."
"This hole," Kyli interrupted, drumming her fingers on the table, her face set in thoughtful lines. "Why have we never seen the like before?"
"Because it closed right after the Gorgani came out," Ro said, wiping the wetness away from her face with a dirty hand, leaving additional streaks joining the ones already decorating her cheeks like war paint.
Ferio glanced sharply at the black-haired woman. "What do you mean 'closed?' They threw dirt back into it?"
Ro Jan Li shook her head. "No, Your Majesty. It was some kind of sorcery, more powerful than I have ever seen. One moment the hole was there, the next it was gone. It was a difficult thing to miss, even in the midst of fighting for my life." Shocked murmurings once again filled the War Room at this revelation.
Ferio sat and deliberated, his hand absently rubbing his as-yet-unshaven cheek, pondering the value of this new information. *If they closed the hole, there may be no way to discover where they came from . . . unless . . . .* His head snapped up. "Raili, go to Guru Clef's rooms and discover whether he can join us -" He halted his speech abruptly as the door opened, revealing the Guru in its frame, surrounded by a halo of light.
"My King," the small man, only half the King's own height, said formally, dipping into a respectful bow. The Guru, head sorcerer of Cephiro, did not bend knee to anyone, even the King.
"Clef. Good. I was about to send for you," Ferio said, waving the little man into the room. "We may have an idea of where those damned monsters are coming from -" He frowned in puzzlement, his brow lowering over his amber eyes as his sorcerer did not budge from the doorway. "What is it, Clef?"
The Guru smiled, his entire face seeming to light up from within, radiating a deep, contented joy. Ferio stood slowly. "Clef . . . ."
"Come with me, my King," Clef said, his voice reflecting his inner satisfaction. He tapped his ornate staff on the tile floor lightly for emphasis. "They have come." With no further explanation, the lavender- haired sorcerer turned and departed.
"Who has come, my King?" Kyli inquired after a slight pause. Ferio shook his head, as thoroughly confused as anyone. "I don't know." He turned his head from the now-empty doorway, the door still ajar, and ordered his generals to ready their soldiers for march. "We go to Harowin," he said when they inquired as to their destination. "Raili, make sure the Captain and his First Lieutenant receive the best care we can provide." He threw a measured glance in their direction. "We owe them much. We march tomorrow." He was out the door before those in the War Room had finished their bows.
King Ferio strode briskly through the ivory hallways, the white marble underfoot clicking with each footfall. He saw Clef awaiting him at the end of the passage, looking like a burly dwarf in the voluminous gold-trimmed white robes he preferred, though truthfully the mage's body was very leanly muscled and trim. They fell into step with each other, Ferio shortening his impatient gait until his Guru could comfortably keep up. They walked silently together for a time, turning left here, taking the next right, as Clef directed. Most of the Palace corridors appeared similar, in that they were a uniform white color. The doorways to rooms and other passages were high arches, skillfully carved with the Flying Phoenix, the device of Ferio's kingship.
Impatience boiled up in Ferio, forcing him to give up the waiting game and ask in a tight voice, "Well, Guru? What is so important that I must be pulled away from the biggest breakthrough we have had throughout this entire War?"
Clef serenely kept his peace, advising the King to patience as they entered the section of the Palace set aside as living quarters for ambassadors and other highly-placed officials. Clef paused in front of an ivory door, unremarkable in its appearance, and waited a moment, the joy in his eyes making him lose control long enough to give a quick shiver of excitement. "In there, my King," he all but whispered, pointing with his staff.
Ferio looked at the little man in annoyed puzzlement, then let out a breath in a huff and pushed open the door. He snapped on the lights with irritation and glared at Clef. "Well?" he asked gruffly. The Guru merely pointed his staff at the bedroom door, indicating that he enter.
"Clef!" the King snapped, his patience with the Guru's silence rapidly thinning, allowing the rise of his formidable temper. "What in blazes do you bring me here for? Answer me, little man!"
Clef left his staff pointed at the door and did not reply. Ferio knew he would get little out of the sorcerer while he was busy being inscrutable, so the King growled his displeasure and marched stiffly to the bedchamber, slapping the door open without slowing. He angrily flicked the lamp on and turned to survey the room . . . stopping with a numbing, heartrending shock as his angry golden gaze fell on the huge bed. He fell to his knees, suddenly weak, unable to feel, unable to take in what he saw as true and not a vision.
There in the large, canopied bed lay an unconscious woman with chin-length blonde hair. She wore enameled green armor the exact shade of a perfect emerald, the exact shade, he knew in his memories, as her beautiful emerald eyes. The Magic Knight of Wind, Fuu . . . had returned to Cephiro.
