After the battle that provided President Durim with the bodies he needed to see that it was time to unite the two nations, the unthinkable happened, and an alliance formed. In Belentedor, an Emergency Military Governance was declared, something that had never been done before, despite its being in their founding documents. By this law, the nation's acting general could take control of the nation from the president if the general believed that the handling of the situation required extensive military knowledge. This law was introduced into the founding papers to make it easier for the nation to navigate challenging times when a president was inexperienced in war governance. The law had never been used before because, in times of such crises, the president either fully cooperated with the general or willingly stepped aside to let the general make the decisions that would most benefit the nation.
Ferdan was an intelligent and educated general trained by Ahrden's father, William. He saw the situation crystal clear and knew that Kirthen was inadequate to understand the importance of this alliance. This left him with no choice but to declare Emergency Military Governance. This move ruffled many feathers, and at first, it was unsure whether the council would deem it legitimate. However, the opposing voices swiftly fell silent when Ferdan marched the military to the doorsteps of the City Hall.
Afterwards, things moved fast under the experienced hands of President-General Ferdan. A diplomatic party accompanied by a large group of the best potion-makers was immediately sent towards Merktin to aid the wounded, while negotiations could start on outlining the details of the forming alliance. Shortly after they were sent on their way, a twenty-carriage-long cart train was also assembled with everything that a nation in such a situation could need: from raw material to food, the carts were packed to their rims and sent on their way as well.
All the while, Ferdan also started to assemble the Polenteus army with the purpose of besieging Basterran. Every class started to learn unique tactics and formations that would suit the coming siege, all the while knowing that they only had a few days. The days that followed were very straining for the Polenteus nation while emotionally very taxing for the Nethedral nation. Having lost most of their army, the Nethedral nation's biggest contribution was the siege engines, which remained completely intact and were the most advanced in the Valley.
The alliance formed relatively fast with a few but strict rules. In the coming siege, President-General Ferdan would command both armies, since his own army made up the majority of the combined troops. The siege engines were also under his command, but if General Werret felt that he was making a faulty call, he could intervene. The entire purpose of the alliance was to destroy the Velintenal nation, and if they succeeded, the alliance would be over. The conquered territories were carefully divided up between the two nations, and by the time the alliance was finalized, both parties were happy with the results. If they were to succeed and dismantle the alliance, they agreed to keep a less-binding treaty for the times that would follow. This treaty stated that the two nations would not attack the other, and all differences would be settled through diplomatic means. This, of course, was very far in the uncertain future, but having this laid out on paper beforehand was comforting in Ferdan's opinion. In Ahrden's mind, this proved that there was hope for a brighter and more civilized future after the blood-soaked history that they all shared.
While these things were happening, Ahrden was recovering in his new home under the caring hands of Alia. Unlike many past occasions, Ahrden could remain conscious after the battle, so he could add his own arcane to help Alia heal his body. This resulted in his fast recovery, but Alia insisted that he remain resting afterwards to prepare for the next impending conflict.
Through Alia, Ahrden was informed of every development between the two nations, and he couldn't have been prouder of how Ferdan had taken the situation into his own hands. Ahrden learned about all the aid sent to Merktin along with the diplomats and the potion-makers. He heard about the forming alliance and how conversations between the diplomats were rather heated at the beginning.
After Ahrden had mostly recovered and only remained resting because Alia asked him to, he took regular visits to Ferdan to discuss the current events. The first time Ahrden showed up at Ferdan's house, he charged at him with the buttering knife he was holding, but after the shock settled, Ahrden apologised for the inconvenient drop-in and agreed to meet the acting president sometime later that night.
They talked for hours about everything that had been happening. Ahrden told him about the battle he fought in the woods of Merktin and how he forced the Velintenal soldiers into the woods. Ferdan was deeply impressed with the quick thinking of Ahrden, which eventually gave them the first real opportunity to take down the biggest threat in the Valley. Ferdan told Ahrden about the Emergency Military Governance which he had declared and how he took over the nation from Kirthen. Ferdan filled Ahrden in on everything that followed afterwards and how the discussions were going between the diplomatic groups.
Ferdan believed the tension came from the fact that, despite the change in the leader, a large portion of the leadership remained and shared Kirthen's views. No matter how the president-general tried, he could not assemble a diplomatic group that did not contain any member who was unwilling to cooperate.
Both Ahrden and Ferdan knew that with the general at these meetings, things would have gone a lot smoother, but he could not leave the capital in such demanding times, especially with all the enemies he had in the council. It was Ferdan who brought up the idea that Ahrden could teleport him to these meetings along with Durim, who remained president of the Nethedral nation.
Ahrden jumped at the opportunity, and after he told Alia about his visits to Ferdan, the four of them worked together to bring the two presidents to these meetings. As expected, the process instantly sped up, and soon the alliance was formed.
The two nations agreed to march on Basterran a week after the alliance was officially declared. Both nations used the remaining time to finalize the trainings and prepare everything they had and needed for the coming siege. Time flew fast, and soon both armies headed out. With the Velintenal nation having close to no army left, both nations entered and marched through the Velintenal territory unopposed. Shortly before each would arrive at Basterran, they merged to form one unified force.
With the armies behind Ahrden, he arrived at the edge of the tree line of the forest that surrounded the Velintenal capital. Ferdan was beside him, and next to him was Renthard, his second in command. On the other side of Ahrden was Werret and his lieutenant.
Ferdan motioned with his head, and Renthard gave the order for the armies to stop. The imposing wall that surrounded the castle of Kartesta Malitez stood before them. The Velintenal nation had the biggest capital among the rest of the nations and was the only one that had a castle in it. Technically speaking, the castle was built next to the capital, as it was relatively new, but the wall surrounding the castle lapped around the capital too. Taking one would mean taking both. The Evil King had ordered the castle's construction after he had conquered the merged Santord and Mentard nation because he believed that a king who ruled such a vast nation required a castle of this size to go along with the title.
As expected, no enemy soldier was outside the city limits, but the walls were crawling with them. In the last two battles, the Velintenal army had been reduced to a size it hadn't been in for a very long time. The problem was that the few soldiers the nation had left were still more than enough to man the capital's walls. In many centuries, this would be the first time for Basterran to be under attack, but it was going to be a prolonged and bloody siege the likes of which none had seen before.
The sun was on its way down, but the afternoon was still young. The air smelled of coming death, and Ahrden could not stop thinking about all the soldiers who were going to die at the hands of Malitez, who must have prepared a whole arsenal of spells that would make the siege near impossible.
The idea that occurred to Ahrden came from nowhere, but he immediately knew that it was one of those rare ones he would see through no matter what.
"We cannot defeat them," Ahrden said, looking up at the wall of the castle.
"Know your place, mage. Just because you are among us doesn't—" started Renthard.
"Quiet," said Ferdan. "Why would you say that, Ahrden? We have the numbers, we brought the siege engines, and we have a secure supply route."
"Malitez is a mage. A very powerful one. Based on what I could do to their armies in an open field, unprepared, I dread to see what he would unleash on us from the safety of his wall with all the time he has had to prepare."
"What do you propose we do?" the general went straight to the point.
The fact that the general of two armies was asking military advice from Ahrden made all three of the others present look at him in dismay.
"We don't fight them."
"You know we can't do that, Ahrden."
"General," Ahrden said, turning towards him. "The winner of this battle will rule over the Valley for the foreseeable future and beyond, with unquestionable authority. I say it is acceptable to sacrifice an army or two, but only if we can win. Which we cannot. Three nations are present here—the only three nations of the Valley. There will be an outcome, but armies don't always have to fight to declare a victor. The death of the leaders can yield the same result, especially if one is a tyrant like Malitez. This tradition has not been used for ages because the leaders' only power was to lead, and they were powerless on their own. This is not the case with Malitez, nor with me. General, what you know is steel; what we know is arcane. This day will not be won or lost with steel, but rather with arcane. I'll duel Kartesta Malitez, and the winner will claim the Valley for himself."
"How dare you think that—" started Werret.
"Quiet," said Ferdan.
"You don't tell me to be quiet! You lead the armies, not let a boy lose the war in their name!"
"I said quiet," Ferdan repeated and looked at Werret, who fell silent. "Ahrden, listen. I can't risk everything on a duel when we have a chance…"
"Chance? When you have a chance? General, you never had a chance without me. When was the last time any of your armies were knocking on these walls? When was the last time any of you had even seen Basterran? We are here because in the last two battles you had arcane on your side, and they didn't. Now they have arcane too, and all they have to do is drop it down on us. No matter how much I do, they have a clear advantage."
"What if you lose?" asked Ferdan.
"If I lose, then it will be the end for our nations. But if we attack, then it will surely be the end."
Silence fell on them as everyone considered these words. Ahrden was worried that they were not going to understand what he was saying. The problem was that they were trying to judge something they didn't understand and therefore couldn't. All they could do was force what they knew on the situation at hand and deduce a faulty conclusion.
"I say we let them duel, and if they win, we attack," said Renthard.
"I'm ashamed to have you as my second. You do not talk unless it is to convey my orders," said Ferdan. "But, Ahrden, as you have said it yourself, Malitez is very powerful, probably more so than you. On top of that, he isn't known to fight fair. You do not have experience in stabbing others in the back the way he does."
"About that, you are right, General. But I'm afraid we are still looking at better odds than if we were to besiege these walls. Think about Inferno and tell me when we can knock these walls down with boulders and battering rams."
The general sighed heavily, torn between the options.
'I'm not sure, Ahrden.'
'General, Malitez conquered two nations with the help of his magic and almost burnt our nation to the ground with a single spell. This is our best chance against him. Look what he has already achieved. You are planning to overthrow him with steel, General. You have to understand that it doesn't work like that. He will burn these armies to the ground and walk over the ashes of the defeated nations like a god.'
'But you can go out and defeat him alone, kid?' asked Werret.
'Yes, I can.'
'Now why is that?'
'Because I'm willing to sacrifice everything if need be,' Ahrden said, feeling sad because he knew it was true.
Ferdan walked his horse forward and turned it around, so he stood in front of Ahrden.
'You understand the full gravity of what is at stake, both for the Nethedral and Polenteus nations and the entire population of the Valley?'
'Yes, I do, General.'
'Then go; all of our future is in your hands now.'
Ahrden nodded and got off his horse. With the general in front of him, he stood beside Renthard and felt a tingle of arcane in that direction but paid it no mind. He unfastened Duskedge from his belt and strapped it to the horse he came on. Since he wasn't going to fight in the battle, he had anticipated he wasn't going to use the legendary sword. He still wasn't experienced in duelling a mage beyond what he had read on the subject, but he was certain that opting to use the sword would only hold him back against Malitez. He walked by the general, not looking up as he passed him, and walked out from the cover of the tree line onto the open clearing in front of the giant gates. Midway, he unhooked a pouch full of runed blades and dropped it on the ground.
Ahrden knew that Malitez would take the duel, but he couldn't be sure until it actually happened. Once he was out in the open, visible to everyone, he enhanced his voice with a spell and spoke.
'Kartesta Malitez, I challenge you to a duel to the death. Winner takes the defeated nation and thus the Valley.'
'Don't you mean the two defeated nations? I knew it was a good idea to keep you alive.'
Malitez stepped up to the top of the wall, standing above all the soldiers who remained inside the cover of the wall. His figure was imposing. For most people gathered, this was the first time to lay eyes on the Evil King, and gasps did not fail to ripple through the armies. The king balanced on the top of the wall and spread his arms wide.
'I accept your challenge. And when I walk over your cooling corpse, I will personally kill anyone in the assembled armies who does not honour the outcome of the duel.'
Malitez teleported down from the wall to the ground, a sight Ahrden was not used to despite the countless occasions he had done it himself. Malitez was at the base of the wall and started walking towards Ahrden. He untied his royal cape and let it fall on the grass behind him. With the cape gone, a surprisingly powerful body clad in black leather was revealed. Strength and power radiated from the whole figure of the king.
When Malitez got close enough for the two to converse again without enhancing their voices, he stopped.
'You know you can't win, boy. Why would you take such a challenge? The fact that your generals accepted it says a lot about how desperate they are, but from one mage to another. You are not even a full purple; you have never had an arcane duel, and you don't have what it takes to beat me. I can see all your cards, while you are too afraid to even look at mine if I showed them to you.'
'Worried you have missed something?'
'Worried? Boy, I drowned entire cities in their own blood, burnt others to the ground. I ended nations and built the biggest empire, and you think you make me worried?'
'I'm sorry you lost me at the drowning and burning part. All I have seen you do was fail at those things. Remember?'
The king extended his arm, and deep purple arcane bolts shot forth from them. Ahrden wasted no energy blocking them; he simply teleported away to the side, from where he cast his own spell and sent out all the arcane fog he could muster. The fog spread far, and it spread fast. Ahrden felt more confident in it; the many advantages that it brought him and the memories of using it in combat created a certain kind of confidence in him.
Before Ahrden could even advance on the king, he saw and felt that, with a grand arch of his arm, Malitez blew the fog away and dissipated it into nothing. After fighting so many foes who could not command the arcane forces, Ahrden didn't anticipate such a possibility. Disheartened, Ahrden threw a blade he had just conjured at the king, who teleported away from it. Ahrden followed up with another, and the king changed locations yet again.
Malitez swiftly cast his next spell, but at first, Ahrden didn't know what it was until he suddenly felt the air around him cool to an unbearably cold level. Ahrden's muscles tensed up, and he could barely move his body. He saw the king conjuring another spell, and by the gestures of it, he knew what to expect sooner than the casting was actually done, and sure enough, Ahrden felt the incoming thunderbolt from above. He teleported away just moments before the lightning hit the exact location he was standing in.
When Ahrden materialized, his back was to the castle wall, and he faced the king, who had already turned towards him and now stood alarmingly motionless. Before the king could do anything, Ahrden felt something near him through his extended sense. At first, he couldn't tell if it had magical qualities or not, but he could guess it was an arrow by its size, shape, and direction of origin, which was the wall where countless archers stood. As a result, he decided that a simple shield would prove sufficient to block the attack. Only when he had completed the shield did he see Malitez gesture with his hand that made the arrow flare up with arcane power. Alarmed, Ahrden didn't have time to flee, so he just strengthened his shield, hoping that it would hold.
Further powered by the spell, the runed arrowhead went through his shield and stuck into his right shoulder. The pain was bearable, and Ahrden felt no poison on the arrowhead, which made it obvious what it was for. Knowing that the goal was achieved and no further arrows would come his way, Ahrden wrapped his power around it and pulled it out from his muscle as he watched the king cast the binding spell with satisfaction on his face. Since the king was able to draw blood from Ahrden with his runed arrowhead, he was able to bind Ahrden to the clearing, making him unable not only to teleport out of it but also within it. Ahrden did test it to make sure the king had succeeded, and sadness flowed through him when he realized that he had.
'Two can play this game,' murmured Ahrden under his breath.
Ahrden called back the runed blades he had dropped before the battle with immense force but hid the motion with another, more powerful spell. The king saw the powerful casting and the arcane sphere appearing between Ahrden's hands, and after his recent victory with the binding spell, Malitez was too careless to notice the other, more minor spell. Or maybe it was simply the fact that the king did not expect any attack from behind him, because he knew that Ahrden would fight with honour and his nation would not aid him in the duel. In any case, the king thought too little of Ahrden to think him capable of planting the blades beforehand, and as a result, he didn't detect—and later block or counter—the hidden attack of Ahrden.
The only luck for the king was that he wore an enormously powerful cloak bathed in many spells and woven by the rarest materials, which made it very durable against physical and magical attacks. The only reason the blades didn't pierce him and only dug into his skin was because what he wore prevented them from going any further. When Ahrden felt his blades draw the king's blood, he sent the arcane sphere at the king and cast the binding spell, too, levelling the playing field.
Ahrden could see the seething anger on the king's face as he pulled the blades out from his back and blocked the arcane sphere. He, too, tried his opponent's binding spell, and he too was unhappy to accept that it was successful.
Now it was purely down to their skills to command arcane.
Malitez wasted no time and, with elegance, cast his next spell; roots shot up from the ground beneath Ahrden and started twisting around his legs. Ahrden didn't start struggling against them, knowing that it was futile. He pointed his palms down and sent dense waves of arcane power at the roots, which caused them to erode in mere seconds. Once he was free from the bonds that held him, he placed his hand on the ground and kept the spell going, killing all that still remained under the surface.
Malitez didn't stop channelling his spell until he felt that no more roots responded to his command. He looked furious. He expected the duel to be over by now, and the fact that it wasn't even close to that angered him dearly. Ahrden could see the change in the king's eyes. He could see reason flee from his expression and madness take over. Few magi could effectively cast spells under such emotions, and even fewer could channel these feelings into the spells. Ahrden was about to find out where Malitez stood in this regard.
Both of them started casting their own spells; Malitez an arcane missile, Ahrden an arcane beam. They finished it at about the same time and sent it at the other. The missile had grown so large that the king's figure disappeared behind it, so Ahrden could do nothing but aim at it with his own spell. To his biggest surprise, the missile was absorbing his spell without any change in its course or qualities. The missile was a dark purple, while his beam was a dark blue with some purple in it, yet it didn't affect it in the slightest. Ahrden kept on channelling arcane into his beam and hitting the sphere as it neared, but once it got too close without any change, he had to cease his spell and concentrate on defending himself.
When Ahrden let up with his spell, it was too late to counter it with a spell made specifically against it, and he no longer had time to move out of the missile's path. All that remained was to erect a shield and channel enough arcane into it to make it withstand the coming blast. When the missile hit the shield, it shook Ahrden to his core. His whole body vibrated from the impact, and it was all he could do to not stop feeding more power into the shield that was in front of him. As the last of the arcane flames went away, Ahrden could see the next missile already nearing him, for which he braced himself again. The impact physically pushed him back, his shoes digging deep burrows into the soft grass-covered ground. As the explosion was still developing, Ahrden could peek through the arcane flames and see Malitez walking towards him while casting yet another arcane missile.
Ahrden had to extend the shield to form a dome that wrapped around him because the arcane flames kept getting over it and reaching for his unprotected body. When the king was no farther than a few strides away, he changed his offence and switched to a continuous, powerful arcane beam, the likes of which Ahrden had tried before. The new spell took away the few heartbeats of time Ahrden had previously had to recover between the missiles and allowed him no time to make an escape feasible or cast an offensive spell of his own. Malitez couldn't have asked for a more ideal situation, and so he could strengthen his spell with ease.
As the pressure grew, Ahrden's shaking legs gave way, and he was forced down on one knee, but he still maintained the flow of arcane into his brightly flaring shield. He was barely visible from the outside, so bright was the collision of the two arcane forces. Ahrden's raised arms were shaking; he was on the brink of collapsing and blacking out as he kept his spell going.
Ahrden felt the end nearing and knew that he had to do something about it. To further emphasize how dire the situation was, his other leg gave way as well, and he buckled down to both of his knees. His back was bending under the pressure, and his head sank lower in the process. Strangely enough, among everything that was going on, Ahrden could feel Malitez gathering even more power to further increase the destructive arcane he was releasing upon him. Ahrden was barely holding on now, and he knew that he wouldn't withstand what was coming next.
His imminent demise brought Ahrden a certain peace of mind.
There were so many things he still wished to do in life, so many things he still wanted to experience. None of that was going to happen, and it was entirely his fault. He was not a victim of the circumstances. Beretandas was right. He understood it now. He chose to challenge Kartesta Malitez to a duel. He chose to fight fair. His decisions led him to die at the hands of the Evil King. He was the reason why he was never going to be with Alia again. His life. His choices.
Alia would live. She would have the chance to make her own choices, for which she would be responsible. She wasn't a victim of the circumstances either. Or was she?
Only now did it dawn on Ahrden that he had single-handedly killed two armies and ended the remaining two nations who could oppose the Velintenal nation. Not Ahrden, but they indeed were victims of the circumstances he had created.
At first, Ahrden thought his defenses had failed because the pressure on the shield lessened. His shield didn't break, however, nor did Malitez reduce his efforts. With the decreased pressure, Ahrden could lift his head and examine his surroundings. When he did, his heart skipped a beat.
His entire dome was pure purple—the darkest he had ever seen before—without the slightest hint of blue. It still flared continuously but much less intensely, as if it took less effort to withstand the beam assailing it.
In the next second, Ahrden felt the empowered beam that the king had been preparing crash into his shield. The pressure grew, but only by the slightest amount. Ahrden could feel the fear radiating from his opponent.
Ahrden straightened, then stood without needing his hands to support him. Malitez had been standing over him, but now, as Ahrden went from both knees to standing in the next second, they were face to face. Malitez still channeled the beam of arcane at him, but not for long. Ahrden sent a burst of energy that penetrated all that stood between him and his opponent; Malitez staggered back a few steps as his casting was interrupted. It was enough time for Ahrden to take a step forward and send a much larger burst straight at Malitez's chest, which sent him flying over the field.
Cheers erupted from the two armies in front of Ahrden, who still had his back toward the castle, but he paid no mind to anything but Malitez. He started walking toward the king, who was doing his best to get to his feet. Ahrden was still very far away when Malitez finally stood, but the king had little time before Ahrden's next attack reached him.
With his hands above his head, Ahrden called lightning onto himself, and once it hit him, he redirected it at Malitez. The king cast no spell, merely dove sideways to evade the lightning bolt, but a lot of electricity still found its way into his body. Twitching, he staggered up again, just in time to catch the arcane blade that was sent at him. He caught it with both hands, protected by his own arcane, but it wasn't enough, and blood started running from the deep wounds the blade had inflicted.
Ahrden channeled his freezing spell into the blade, and before the king could discard it from his left hand, the cold reached him. The spell froze the Evil King's wrist rock solid. Ahrden rotated his hand and, with it, moved the arcane blade, shattering the frozen hand.
The king cried out in agony, but not for long. With a spell Ahrden got a firm hold on him and yanked the king with all his might toward him. When Malitez flew by, Ahrden held out his arm so it connected with the king's head; Malitez then smashed into the ground and slid onward.
Ahrden turned around, having now his own two armies behind him, and prepared to continue his attacks.
'Stop!' yelled Malitez.
Ahrden ignored the cry.
Trying a spell in action for the first time, Ahrden cast the same suffocating spell he had learned from Kadelinas when they dueled. He saw the shock and disbelief on Malitez's face, which then mixed with horror and fright. The king was waving his right hand and what remained of his left while desperately gagging and mimicking. This authentic terror hid the small gesture of the king, which Ahrden did not detect.
The casting went unnoticed, but Ahrden felt that something was wrong. He knew that Malitez could have only cast the simplest spells, which created a false sense of safety. Ahrden felt the all-too-familiar sensation of some object triggering his extended senses, but it couldn't have been the case because he had his own people at his back.
Yet, he still felt something near him.
The spell was among the simplest, one Ahrden knew all too well, and he knew it could hold immense power if the rune was written by a mage of high power. The speed at which the object traveled, the quality of the rune and the object itself, plus Ahrden's momentary confusion, were enough.
When Ahrden felt the ice-cold steel touch his skin, he knew it was over.
His skin crawled with utter spite for what a human being was capable of. Seething anger washed over his body as his boiling blood audibly churned through his veins, fueled by the fury that made his heart beat faster. The innermost part of his body rebelled against everything that was happening, yet he could do nothing about it. He stood there, helplessly frozen in time, feeling betrayed, deceived, and beaten. He no longer had a say in the flow of events. He no longer felt the pulse of history as it was being written. Ahrden had just been removed from the story, only still standing to show everyone how pathetic one was who tried to stand against the great Kartesta Malitez—one who was never meant to even be there. These last breaths were all that he could contribute to the scene before leaving his life behind, to be cursed, hated, and then finally forgotten. No amount of work, dedication, devotion, or effort could undo what a single act of betrayal had done to him.
Ahrden looked down, and he could see the long, wide blade of Lieutenant Renthard, filled with brightly flaring runes, as it protruded from his chest, covered in his own blood. Underneath the blood, Ahrden could make out the runes: some to obey the king's calling, but mostly to make it invisible to others and to Ahrden's senses. He had felt something when he got off the horse, but the runes worked well.
Ahrden looked up. He could not keep his spells running, so Malitez was able to regain his breath. Ahrden had seconds to live, yet the king was already hell-bent on casting a spell that would shorten even that little time. That's how afraid he was of him. And Ahrden had to admit it—rightfully so. Because Ahrden was no longer a victim of the circumstances. He was in control of his own fate. And this was not his time.
"Thy power. Thy arcane. Come to me."
The small blade sat comfortably in his palm. He looked down at it, thinking how many before him had held it in their hands, thinking that they would be able to right the wrong they were about to do. Free themselves from the chains they were about to put on themselves. Regain their souls after offering it freely. Probably all must have thought themselves strong enough. Ahrden was not unique on that account. But there was no time to further ponder such things.
Ahrden plunged the dagger into his thigh.
In the next second, Ahrden found himself in a place that felt like it was between realms. Everything was black. There was nothing he could distinguish from this sea of darkness. He didn't know what he stood on, but it felt solid and smooth, with its color matching everything else.
Voices entered his head. They were loud; they were many, but he couldn't understand any single one. He looked at his chest; the sword was gone, and there was no wound— not even his clothes were torn. He looked up, and he stood in front of himself. It wasn't a mirror, nor a mirage. It was him, but different. His hair was black, eyes red and evil. His mouth was between a scowl and a grin. He was clad in a stylish, delicate garment from top to bottom.
"Arcane Lord…" whispered Ahrden.
"Good," the Arcane Lord said in his voice, but it was deeper and rougher. "We have things to discuss, but I believe you are in the middle of something."
His other self motioned with his head, and Ahrden looked in that direction. Suspended in the air stood the blade that had impaled him, with his blood still dripping from it.
"In your first few moments, near-unlimited power will be made available to you, as a sort of welcome. You should use that to settle your differences with the king. Afterwards, say your farewell to the people. I know that is something you value. I'll bring you back here when you are done."
"The voices. Can you stop them?" Ahrden asked, finding it hard to concentrate through them.
"You'll get used to it," smiled his other self, revealing long ash-colored fangs in his mouth, which went further down his mouth than they should have, with an oozy black substance dripping from their pointed ends.
Ahrden would have winced, but he found himself back at the clearing. The sword was gone from his chest, but his clothes were torn. Blood surrounded the hole in his clothes, but the wound was healed. The same was the case with his thigh, and the dagger was gone from his hand too. His body felt fresh, energized, and strong. He saw the nearing arcane missile which the king had sent at him, but then it happened.
In quantities he could not comprehend, arcane power filled his body. The gift that the Arcane Agent had granted him for a short while was but a taste, a mere fraction of what he felt fill his body. Nothing felt impossible in that state. The feeling intoxicated him; he felt a certain high he had never before had. The whole experience was something beyond this world.
The arcane bolt hit him while he still stood there with eyes closed and mouth open. Pain registered, which meant that—contrary to what the Arcane Agent had told him before—normal arcane could still affect him. It was, however, nothing more than purely the feeling of something feeble meeting his body. He was not pushed back; he was not put in any kind of discomfort.
Ahrden opened his eyes and looked at Kartesta Malitez. What he saw in his eyes was not terror or fright. It was disbelief and acceptance. Acceptance that he was already dead.
Ahrden pointed his palms forward and cast his spell. Black arcane, accompanied by screams and shrieks, shot forth and destroyed what was in its path. The beam was as wide as Ahrden's house had once been, and nothing remained in its path. Pleasure and awe filled his heart as the arcane power he could control wreaked havoc on everything. He wished that this would never stop, and he just kept on channelling it long after there was nothing that the beam could destroy.
When the spell stopped, Ahrden looked at his work. It couldn't be said that even ash remained of the king, but that was the least of his achievements. A house-size hole pierced the wall, which caused a large portion of it to collapse on either side of it. As the beam went on, it hit the castle and went straight through its core. The hole dwarfed compared to the scope of the castle, but after its size, the castle was known for its delicacy, which became its undoing. Ahrden watched as its tall towers toppled and collapsed, its enormous dome sank in on itself, and the whole structure was reduced to rubble, with the exception of a few smaller buildings at the far end of its wings.
Velintenal went from the most powerful nation in the Valley to a failed dream. What remained was something that even the two armies of powerless, steel-wielding tin soldiers could handle.
Ahrden turned around and teleported in front of the leaders. When he arrived, he noticed Alia standing among them as well. It was hard to read her expressions, but she had surely been crying, probably mere moments ago.
What Ahrden felt now was far from what he had experienced when he first had the pleasure to taste this blessing. The voices remained a constant, but the Arcane Lord was right about how they no longer bothered him that much. His feelings, emotions, goals still lingered; only he cared less about them, and what remained was also fading. What helped this sensation was his ability to have a peek at the bigger picture, which he was beginning to comprehend, and things beyond that picture seemed to matter less. Looking at Alia did stir many emotions in him, which was partially the reason for what he said next when he addressed the leaders.
"The Valley. It is yours now. Live among each other, and do it in peace and harmony. If you are unable to, I'll come back, and I'll bathe in the blood of all who live here. I will bring the skies down upon you. I will make the ground tremble under you. I will suck the life out of every living thing in this Valley. Live. And do it in peace. Because if I return, I will bring death, not war. Don't tell tales about me; don't write songs about me. Forget me and pray to whomever you wish that I can do that same with you."
Ahrden turned towards Renthard. The general's second was literally shaking on his horse, with his empty sword sheath hanging by his side. Ahrden raised his right hand and cast a spell he didn't even know before. Black mist shot from his palm and dived at Renthard; once it reached him, it seeped into his body, which absorbed it seamlessly. Ahrden almost shuddered from knowing what he had done to the lieutenant.
"You will live. Until you can bear it no longer."
Ahrden turned towards Alia. She didn't understand what was happening. How could she? He had never talked about the Arcane Army to her. He didn't want to break her with the truth. How could he?
"Do not cry. You—"
It hurt Ahrden to leave her behind, but the decision was made for him. Ahrden was teleported away.
He materialized in the same location he was brought to after he used the small dagger.
"See? I gave you power, and you were able to bring peace to your Valley in a minute. Imagine what else we can accomplish together. I know you liked the burst of power you felt at the beginning. If you want to feel that again, all you have to do is die. So, when you do go out, you make sure you go out in a worthy manner."
The Arcane Lord wore his image alarmingly well. The expressions were natural, the body movement fluent, and the overall appearance convincing. Everything that the Arcane Lord said and did in his shape was so saturated with evil that the fact that it was this convincing made it that much harder for Ahrden to watch. It looked as if this was a state where he would arrive. A person he would become.
"Now that your little issue is resolved, we can talk about what matters. But first, I need to educate you a little. You came here knowing that this was your only chance of survival, and you were convinced that you would be able to rid yourself of the blood oath you took. You might have joined us because a sword was in your chest, but eventually you would have done so anyway. No matter how smart you think you are, you'll never be able to rid yourself of the gift that I gave you. You are mine. Your soul is mine. Your thoughts are mine. You belong to me. I know what you are thinking, what you are planning, and what you are going to do even before you know it. There is nothing hidden from me. You, too, can hear many voices in your head. Those are the thoughts of others like you. You cannot make them out clearly yet, but in time it will get better. The more powerful you become, the more minds you'll hear, and the less others beneath you will be able to hear you. You do not age or get ill; you never sleep, and all your feelings will be reduced to mere specks of their previous self. You'll understand what emotions were, and you'll have the memory of the time when they meant something for you, but nothing more will remain. In time you'll reach this state, and your emotions are already fleeting from you fast. You are given knowledge—more than you could ever gain on your own. You are given arcane—a kind you could never obtain without me. Trust is not something that I have to deal with because I know everything, but you cannot yet comprehend this fact. You need to be made loyal. You still believe you can flee, and you still look at my gift as temporary. You are desperately trying to anchor yourself in the past, which doesn't exist anymore. Soon you'll not crave it, but you are not there just yet. Right now, what you need to prove is the willingness to wait until your feelings and emotions are drowned in your very body, and you can truly join the ranks of the Arcane Agents, from where I have no doubt you'll progress swiftly. But I need to see your willingness. I need you to prove it to me. I need you to kill Kadelinas for me."
The Arcane Lord kept his head level and didn't break the eye contact, but after such a composed speech he looked away—if only for a second—when he spoke the name of Kadelinas. His expressions got aggravated, his posture agitated. From the first word he spoke, Ahrden constantly felt a certain level of possibility that he would slay him mid-sentence. Now, however, he counted each second that he remained alive as a miracle.
"Countless Arcane Agents have tried and failed. Even some of my Arcane Knights have fallen victim to him. But you have something that none other has had before: personal connection. You see, the biggest problem has always been getting close to him. He is only human, and an Arcane Knight could probably overpower him. But he is a deviously smart human. We cannot get access to him without needing to fight ourselves through an army of magi. Although his death would surely be worth the sacrifice of many of our own, lately the toll count has only grown without any success. We know where he hides, although we do not know his specific location within the fortress. We can get you in the building, but you'll have to find him and kill him."
The Arcane Lord was looking at him, searching for any kind of hint that would suggest Ahrden had conflicting thoughts about the task. To be honest, it was easier to stay honest about the mission than Ahrden would have initially imagined it to be. He met Kadelinas once; he told Ahrden that he wasn't good enough and hadn't done anything since. He didn't help him, guide him, or check on him. He didn't care if he lived or died. Ahrden wasn't sure how far the Arcane Lord could penetrate his thoughts, but he was fairly confident that what he saw aligned with what he wanted to see.
"The problem is that upon your arrival, you would be slain in a matter of heartbeats, and although I do not doubt that you'd be able to take a few sorry bystanders with you, you are worth more than to just create collateral damage. I'll hide your new, true self from them when you arrive so you can move among them as your old, worthless self. You'll not have access to the given gifts, but they also won't be able to see you for who you truly are now. Have no fear— I and only I will remain with you, so no temptation should sway your judgment. When you've isolated him from his pawns, I'll give back what was taken from you, and you'll finish the job. Hiding the blood oath is something I have never shown them that I could do, so they'll suspect nothing about who you really are. Fail, and you die. Try something, and you die. Succeed, and you'll have proven what I wanted."
Finally, the Arcane Lord nodded toward the floating sword with a dead-serious face.
"Your emotions are dying, but you still retain enough to understand: that steel, in my hands, can visit Alia more times than even you have had, before your own blood would dry to it. Go now, and do not disappoint me. That is not something your precious Valley would want."
Ahrden was teleported out of there.
The place he was sent to looked out of this world. He found himself in a corridor where the walls, floor, and ceiling were made of translucent crystals. Arcane energy swirled around in it, ranging all the way from blue to orange; even yellow was present there, something he didn't know even existed. He felt his body to be his own again; no voices, no overwhelming power at his fingertips.
In seconds several magi appeared around him in a casting stance, ready to cast any spell they wished.
"How did you get in here? You are not supposed to be in here!" a woman said from his side.
"Who are you?" another from behind Ahrden asked.
No one cast a single spell yet, but all were ready to. Ahrden knew his blood oath had not been detected; otherwise, he would not be alive.
"Answer, boy, or I'll end you here and—"
"Kadelinas. I am his secret apprentice,"—gasps rippled through the crowd, a response that Ahrden was looking for. "Take me to him."
"How did you find your way here?" asked the female mage who spoke to him first.
"I sense a great deal of disorder. Yet you waste everyone's time with trivial things. You clearly know nothing about what a secret apprentice of his knows. Take me to him before it is too late."
The magi around him didn't dare to object to him anymore.
"Follow me."
A smaller, aging woman stepped forth and motioned for him to follow before turning around to lead the way. Ahrden left the rest of the magi standing there, wondering. He indeed felt a great deal of unease and disturbance in the air without knowing what the normal state here was. The fact that it was so severe that they just let him go meant that whatever must have been going on was something dreadful.
He was led down the corridor into a smaller room with stairs leading in every direction. They took one and quickly climbed to the top. They arrived at another corridor, which led them to another small room with similar stairs leading in every direction again. Ahrden had long lost his bearings, concentrating only on not falling behind. When they were moving down a wider corridor, he moved beside the mage.
"What progress have you made so far?" Ahrden asked, hoping the question made sense and that the answer would have enough information to work out the problem itself.
"Not much as far as I know, but I'm not part of the circle that deals with such things. Your master surely has the most recent information about it."
The answer was a half victory, and Ahrden did not press the issue any further. They took two more turns and were now walking across a great hall which, like everything else in here, was made of the sparkling crystal.
"What news have you brought him; do you have a lead on the mage?" the woman turned towards him with piercing eyes.
"Yes, I do. That is why it is imperative that I talk to him."
The situation was taking shape for Ahrden, but he still needed more pieces. The answer seemed to be enough for the woman, and she moved on with renewed speed.
After two more turns, they arrived at a great door which led into a vast circular room. Once inside, Ahrden saw a smaller, but still large, room within the one they were in. There was a wide corridor that lapped around the smaller room which, from the outside, looked like a dome. Whatever the function of this smaller room was, it had to be of great importance. The woman led Ahrden down this outer corridor until they reached an imposing two-winged door that led into this smaller circular room.
"He is in here. If I—"
"Thank you. But you must leave now."
Ahrden felt, heard, and saw himself saying this, and it was literally identical to how the Arcane Lord would have said it. This frightened him deeply.
The woman didn't dare to object, only hurried away. As she did, Ahrden wondered why they hadn't teleported here in the first place, but it mattered little now.
Ahrden turned towards the door. He took a deep breath and pulled both sides of it open and walked in. The door was heavy, but it slid soundlessly, revealing the room with Kadelinas standing in the middle of it. With a quick glance around, Ahrden could see six other magi located in a circle, and all were looking at a projected map made of arcane. They were in the middle of a heated discussion when he entered, and his arrival startled them all.
"I told you—" a bald and muscular mage started bellowing as he was turning around.
All seven looked at Ahrden with a strange expression, but it was Kadelinas who broke the silence.
"Ahrden, what are you doing here? How did you get in here? It is not the best time, you know. We are in the middle of something here."
"Send them out. I know the mage. Her next move is imminent, and it will reshape that map you are looking at."
Mouths opened; some magi turned towards the map they had been watching, others remained fixated on Ahrden. He felt anger rising within most of them, but none dared to voice their concerns. These people represented the peak of intelligence, and as such, they could temper themselves and wait for the instructions of their leader.
"You know who joined the Arcane Army? How is that possible? How could you detect it? There are no other magi in the Valley; how can you know him. Was it Kartesta Malitez? No, that cannot be; he is not powerful enough. Ahrden, are you sure…?"
"As I've said, her next move is imminent. Unlike this discussion, it will not wait."
"Tell us now; you can trust these magi. I can vouch for them."
"You are wasting time. If you do not trust me, say the word; I'll go back to my unimportant Valley."
Kadelinas looked at Ahrden, unsure. He was thinking hard about what to do next. He had serious concerns, but Ahrden indeed stood there claiming to know what no one else could. He had no choice.
"Leave us."
Ahrden expected the others to walk out of there, but instead, they all teleported out at the same time.
"Now, Ahrden, tell—"
Kadelinas' sentence was interrupted by the booming sound of the two-winged door as it swung shut behind Ahrden. From beneath Ahrden, the multicolored swirling arcane suddenly turned grey and pitch-black in the next second. The darkness spread fast, and before either one of them could do anything, the floor, the walls, and the arching ceiling turned completely black. With the given knowledge, Ahrden knew that Kadelinas could not leave this place anymore, nor could the others re-join them here.
"You…?" Kadelinas asked, stretching the word out, unable to believe what he was seeing.
"I am the monster you created."
"Ahrden…"
"The mistake that comes back to haunt you."
"No…"
"I challenge you to a duel."
Kadelinas had no time to answer him. The light dimmed slightly, foreboding the arrival of something grand. Next, two Arcane Knights materialized between Kadelinas and Ahrden. They stood some space apart, so Ahrden could see Kadelinas react to the events, and his expression told him that, despite being in his own home, he no longer felt in control.
Ahrden had never seen Arcane Knights before, but the difference between them and the Arcane Agents was obvious, even without the given knowledge. The power that they radiated, the black arcane mist that was oozing from them, the confidence with which they stood before their arch-nemesis—Ahrden knew how rare the Arcane Knights were, and he understood how rare this sight was.
"You did well, young one; your job is done here. As for you, old one, we all know this you can't escape."
The voice was deep— incredibly deep. It carried authority, power, and confidence.
"Don't be so sure of yourself," Kadelinas replied.
Ahrden knew that Kadelinas would not survive this encounter. He didn't know how, but somehow he could feel it. The mage might have been the descendant of Beretandas and the most powerful mage alive, but his arcane worked differently against the black one that the knights were wielding. He was outnumbered and stranded. He was betrayed and tricked. He was going to die.
Ahrden already knew that the Arcane Agent had lied to him about how the power that was given to him could not harm their own. By now, with the given knowledge, he was able to fully comprehend what exactly he could do to his own kind and where and how he could inflict the most damage. In that brief window, when everything stood still, Ahrden acted.
Kadelinas knew that he could only prolong his death, but that wouldn't stop him from doing so. He saw the two Arcane Knights begin casting a grand spell in complete unison, which gave him the opportunity. He sent a crackling bolt of arcane lightning from his palms at one of the knights. The room lit up with the bright orange color and quickly dimmed down again as it was absorbed by the knight's shield. Kadelinas knew this wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't expect them to block his spell with such ease without even needing to interrupt the casting.
When the Arcane Knights were about to finish their spells, Kadelinas was in the midst of casting his next, more powerful spell when he saw that the Knights oddly halted their movements and turned slightly backward. Looking between the two, Ahrden was in the middle of a spell with black mist swirling around him. His eyes were black without a single trace of any other color in them. On top of all that, he seemed calm and in control of things.
After a sudden cracking, tearing, creaking sound, Kadelinas saw the impossible: two large holes burst open in the chests of the knights as their hearts left their bodies. The knights could not believe what they saw as they focused on their own hearts before them. Oozy black liquid was dripping from the pitch-black hearts, which still beat—if only for a few more times. Their shrieks were deafening, cracking the very walls of the great hall. When the death cries died down, Ahrden could speak:
"Two pawns will not take the glory for which I fought. He is mine to kill, and that will not be taken from me."
Ahrden knew that no shield in this world could stop what two dying Arcane Knights could unleash, so it was time to go. He teleported beside Kadelinas, grabbed his arm, and they were gone.
When they materialized, they were on the top of the mountain where they had first met. Ahrden teleported away from him so some distance stood between them, and he faced Kadelinas. This time he cast the protective dome around them, and he was the one who held the cards.
The Arcane Lord saw Ahrden. He saw his thoughts and allowed him to proceed because he knew that Ahrden was honest when he said that Kadelinas was his mission and Ahrden arrived here knowing that he would kill him here. With death being a certainty and the sword remaining a backup plan, the Arcane Lord had nothing to fear.
"It ends where it had begun," Ahrden said.
"I never would have thought that you would be the one to give in. To choose the easier path."
"Give in?! The easier path?! How dare you?!" Ahrden bellowed. "You weren't there when I died, when I was betrayed. I wasn't worth your time. You didn't find me strong enough, important enough. You would rather let me die fighting for my Valley than help me achieve peace in it. I needed you, and you weren't there for me. The Arcane Lord was there for me."
Ahrden looked at his hands as black mist seeped from them. He hated Kadelinas for allowing this to happen to him. He truly felt hatred.
'There are grander things to consider. I didn't take you in because you weren't ready, but I gave you my family's Book of Knowledge to guide you. I wasn't there for you when you died because I learnt about it too late, but believe me that if I knew that such a thing was going to happen, I would have been there.'
'You would have been there… But you weren't. You were too busy elsewhere. Now you will die by the hands of the monster that you have created. You'll die like Clentesdin did, alone, with none to blame but yourself and with no one to mourn you but the wind.'
Against Ahrden, Kadelinas more than stood a chance, but he didn't prepare for the duel. He would have, but after the mention of his ancestor he didn't. It made him stop because Ahrden couldn't have known anything about Clentesdin beyond what his ancestor had written in the Book of Knowledge, and his death was certainly not detailed in there.
Ahrden was sheer determination. He focused, and the black arcane responded to his call with pleasure. He was seeking something that existed, but he didn't know where. He needed to find it, and he needed to find it now. With the power he had, he was able to, but the task still wasn't easy.
When he finally found it, he opened his eyes.
The blackest arcane burned in them.
Kadelinas looked puzzled.
The Arcane Lord cried out in fury, but he was too late, for the safety measure was willingly used by the one it was against.
The sword materialized in Ahrden's chest, in the exact same place where it had first been. The power was unleashed, and there was nothing the Arcane Lord could do about it.
With his dying breath, Ahrden cast the single rarest spell in existence. The spell's difficulty came from the quantities of power required to make it work; it was more than humanly possible by a single mage and near unachievable with the combined efforts of several magi. This, however, was something that was not an issue for the dying Ahrden. The spell itself was not easy, but he was able to cast it with precision.
Kadelinas had been through a lot that day, but his jaw fell open as he saw Ahrden at work. He had seen a great many things throughout his long and eventful life, but this was something beyond any other.
With the power granted to him, Ahrden completed the resurrection spell, and it manifested in an intricate, delicate, and potent form of swirling black arcane above him. No one was dead yet, so the spell could not do what it was created for, and it just lingered in the air.
Ahrden saw the spell take form as his life left him, and he collapsed dead. The spell reacted immediately, diving downwards toward the dead body, but it was stopped by a brilliant orange light before it could reach him. The majestic orange arcane crushed into the spell, changing its colour immediately, cleansing its foulness. The spell was created by Clentesdin, the Minerinth Ahrden had mentioned, and was made to cleanse everything that was tainted by foul magic, especially when it came to arcane from the Arcane Army. In written form, it could only be found in the Book of Knowledge Kadelinas had given to Ahrden. As Kadelinas channelled the spell, the foulness started disappearing from the resurrection spell, its colour becoming lighter, purer. Soon, the delicate shape that swirled above the collapsed body of Ahrden glowed with the brilliant orange colour and radiated life instead of malice.
When Kadelinas let the spell go, it was a spell no longer tainted by a blood oath. It dived straight towards Ahrden. As it disappeared in him, Kadelinas turned the sword, still embedded in him, to a cold liquid and directed it away from him.
Seconds later, Ahrden awoke in the circular room; he shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air as if he had been drowning. Kadelinas was kneeling right beside him, holding him.
'They are coming! All of them… They are coming!' Ahrden gasped as he pressed the words out as fast as he could.
'I know,' Kadelinas said and looked at Ahrden with eyes that he knew had never been prouder in his long life.
'No, you don't understand! For many thousands of years, they have been preparing, and now they finally decided to attack. They are coming to destroy the world!' Ahrden said louder, unable to comprehend why Kadelinas didn't take the grave news seriously.
'No, my dear apprentice. You don't understand,' Kadelinas said in a soothing, calm voice.
This surprised Ahrden so much that he stopped breathing for a second, although he didn't know whether it was because of the first or second sentence.
'For many thousands of years, no one was able to oppose the Arcane Lord. Fighting the Arcane Army had always been futile, and joining them had always meant certain doom. Until you came along.'
Ahrden listened; his heart rate calmed as Kadelinas spoke.
'Tell me, Ahrden, what do you know about the Arcane Lord, his Agents, his Knights, and his Army?'
Ahrden's eyes opened wide from comprehension.
'Everything.'