Page 295 of Of Empires and Dust
Forwards, he pushed, his Soulblade the guiding light and the vengeful hammer.
“For Achyron!” A wave of righteous fury overcame him, and for a moment he thought he could feel Achyron’s will flowing through his body, The Warrior’s voice resounding in his head.“No mercy, my child. You are my sword in the mortal world. Give them no ground.”
As the knights pushed and the Uraks fell and the chamber grew ever closer, a brilliant red light shone from within.
A surge of pain swept through Arden’s Sigil, and he felt two knights of The First fall in a single heartbeat – Brother Sangwen and Sister Helka. Beside him, Sister Intara fell to one knee, her Soulblade vanishing from her grasp. No cracks split her armour, no wound marred her flesh that he could see.
“Get up,” Arden roared, grabbing her under the arms and hauling her upright. “Pain is the path to strength, sister.”
“I can… I…” Her voice trembled. “I can feel them die… I felt Endan die?” She tapped the Sigil on her chest, her helmet turning to liquid metal and receding, her eyes raw and red, tears streaming.
“Recall your helm!” Arden snapped.
“I could… it… I… I can’t do—” A black spear punched into Sister Intara’s exposed face. The black steel ripped at her flesh and shattered her cheek, then burst from the back of her skull ina mist of blood and bone. Arden’s Sigil once again burned with a fury.
He stood there for a moment, watching as the Sentinel armour that encased Intara’s body turned to liquid and flowed back towards the Sigil in her chest.
His heart aflame, Arden turned and charged. “Knights of Achyron, with me!”
A chorus answered, and the knights surged forwards, forcing the Uraks back into the chamber beyond. The crimson glow of the gemstones was so bright it was as though, there, thousands of feet within the mountain, they fought beneath the light of the moon.
The chamber was massive, stretching off into the distance in all directions, the ceiling tall enough for ten men to stand on each other’s shoulders.
Arden barely looked. He swung his Soulblade like a man possessed, cutting down everything that moved. An Urak axe skittered off his pauldron, and he swung his blade, leaving the beast’s face dangling, jawless.
“Shaman!” a voice called out.
Arden snapped his head around to see a robed beast clutching a black staff, a gemstone pulsing at its top. A score of Bloodmarked stood alongside it.
Black fire surged from the Shaman’s staff, and Arden’s Sigil ignited once more as Brothers Inavor and Horun of The Third were ripped from the world.
Ruon cried out and charged, her Soulblade glistening. She slid on her knees and ducked the swing of the black-fire níthral that formed in the Shaman’s hand. Rising, she cut a Bloodmarked’s legs out from under it before spinning and carving through its thick neck.
All four chapters descended on the Bloodmarked and the Shaman. The Taint crashed through the chamber in waves,surging from the Shaman and from a pit at the chamber’s centre. The oily tendrils scratched at Arden’s mind as he fought, more Uraks pouring in from the connecting tunnels.
It was like nothing he’d ever felt, almost as though a voice whispered in the back of his mind.“They’re not brothers… They are your slavers. They keep you from your kin…”
Arden pushed the thoughts back, shielding his mind.
“Do not listen!” Ildris shouted, his voice a distant echo. “Efialtír’s whispers are poison!”
A burst of green light erupted in front of Arden and Kallinvar charged through the Rift, Soulblade ignited, the remainder of the knighthood at his back.
“For Achyron!” the Grandmaster bellowed.
Sister-Captain Emalia swept past him like a force of nature, The Tenth at her side, and the Uraks fell before them.
In what felt like heartbeats, the fighting was over, hundreds of bodies littering the ground.
Grandmaster Kallinvar held the Shaman by its throat, both of its arms severed, the bones of its right leg shattered a thousand ways.
“Where is it?” Kallinvar growled.
The Shaman spluttered and choked, the blood that dripped from its wounds as red as its eyes. “We have failed…” The Shaman’s voice was akin to a stone dragged across rusted iron. “But… he will cross, and you will die.”
“It’s like Ilnaen,” Olyria whispered. Arden followed her gaze to the pit at the centre of the chamber. Thousands of gemstones were piled at the centre, glowing with the light of a red sun.
“Strike them down and gain your freedom,”a voice whispered in Arden’s mind.“I will protect you.”
