Part 1 Chapter 6 - Final

Chapter 6

            Calvin ran forward and slammed down his sword. The resulting swing knocked the weapon out of the recruit’s hands. “For the love of Rohda! Can you dogs even hold the weapon properly?” The boy struggled to his feet. Calvin punted the boy back a few feet. “You don’t get second chances on the battle field, so you won’t get one here.” He rolled over on the ground holding his ribs. “Calvin.” Ivan stood a short distance away. “What do you –“ Ivan shot him a glare. “To what do I owe the honor, Commander?” Calvin asked with an exaggerated bow. Ivan shook his head slowly. “You are done for today Calvin. Go get some sleep.”

            “It’s not even sunset.” Calvin argued. “Take a hint, Calvin.” Ivan said. Calvin took a sharp breath. “Yes sir.” He said after an unsteady moment. Ivan extended a hand to the fallen recruit. Tyrell appeared moments later. “Sir, I shall continue the training. You should also get some rest.” Ivan shook his head. Tyrell leaned in. “You need sleep.”

            “I can’t, Tyrell. You know that.” Tyrell sighed in response to Ivan’s answer. Ivan gave out the drill orders and Tyrell trained the soldiers individually between drills. Then it came time for the runs. Tyrell and Ivan joined the first wave. Alec was in the group. He ran next to his father. “Father…I found a sword…you might want to…see.” He said. “Already out of breath, are you?” Ivan asked with a smile. Tyrell kept in front of all the recruits. He ran backwards to watch them. “Alright, back line: You’re next.” The group behind Alec separated and sprinted to the front of the line. “That’s it boys!” Tyrell clapped his hands and turned around to run normally. “Well…I…will be free after…this drill.” Ivan finally said. “And you…said I was out of breath…old man.” Alec teased. Ivan took his hand and slapped him lovingly on his head. “Call me old again…and I’ll have to…” His sentence was cut off by a cough.

            “Alrighty then, back line: sprint!” Alec’s line split off and sprinted to the front.

*****

            Alec and his father walked by the training field. The sun was just about set in the distance. “Here, father.” Ivan looked down at the sword that Alec handed him. As he examined every inch of it, he ran his fingers across the engraving. “A Yumara war katana…I haven’t seen one since the last war.” He held the blade aloft and looked at its glistening blade with a nostalgic smirk. “May I test it?” Alec nodded. Ivan put on his glasses and approached a training dummy. He took a single breath and paused for a long time. Ivan expelled a powerful “Hya!” The sword clove the dummy in two. He looked at the blade. Unscratched. “Amazing craftsmanship. As expected from a Yumara.”

            “Ryan said it was a magical weapon, as well.” Ivan sheathed the sword and handed it to Alec. “You should do the honors.” Alec took the weapon and looked at a fresh dummy. He took a deep breath like his father had and closed his eyes. He held the weapon close to his waist and leaned towards the target. Magic slowly filled his body through his focus. A white light seeped out of his left arm and slowly consumed Alec’s body in a faint white light. An eerie silence consumed his thoughts as the air he captured longed to escape. Alec pushed the hilt up with his thumb and opened his eyes. He drove the hilt forward, unsheathing the weapon. The tip of the blade caught the dummy its right armpit and through the neck and out the other side.

            Alec curved the blade and followed through with and uppercut from the left armpit. To finish his flourish, he drove the blade straight down to cut it in two. Alec snapped the sword to his side and replaced it in the sheath. Once it clicked, he exhaled the trapped breath. And nothing happened. Ivan laughed. “You missed, Alec!” Alec sighed. “I’m sorry, father. Let me try again.” He said. Ivan came over and put his hand on his shoulder. “No, save your magic. You never know when it may be needed.” Alec did. They turned and left towards the mess hall.

            “Father, where do you want me to put your sword?” Ivan looked at him confused. “My sword?” He asked. “But that sword is yours. I already have a magic weapon. Remember Pompeii?” His father was talking about his gladius-style sword. It was a magic weapon from North Ken that erupts into white-hot flames at the users orders. It also won’t hurt the user, an added bonus to the enchantment. “Well…”

            “It will need a name if it is to be yours, Alec.” Alec nodded and thought for a moment. “How about Requiem?” Ivan offered. “No, I want it to be something…”

            “Hmm?” Alec stopped. “I…wanted something…” He kept trailing off. Ivan understood and gazed at the sun. Tears began to well up as thoughts of his wife filled his mind. His wife had died shortly after Alec turned nine. It was traumatic for Alec, but it had almost killed Ivan. The sun glistened off of Ivan’s armor. “Manah.” Ivan turned to his son. “Manah. The heroine from mother’s favorite story.”

            “Manah…the betrayed one who made a sword from her husband’s bones.”

            “Her blade was said to cleave through steel and stone. Maybe, this name will give it those properties.” Alec gave a hopeful smile. Ivan wiped a tear from his eyes and smiled as well. “I like that name. May it stay sharp on your journeys!” Alec drew the blade and held it towards the sky. Ivan called out in his best impersonation of the Emperor. “In my powerful name, Ivan: Commander of the Aeon Mercenaries, may thy name forever be called Manah, blade of honor and loyalty.” Alec smiled and put the sword away. With Manah at his side, Alec felt that he could cleave through any obstacle in his way. A strong breeze blew across the training field. The winds carried with it a faint white light. These wisps surrounded the training dummy and enveloped it. The dummy that Alec had ‘missed’ collapsed into six separate pieces from Alec’s swings as the breeze passed.

*****

            Alec looked down at his sword as he waited for the dinner bell. The markings on the base of the blade had changed. He cocked his head and examined them. Tyrell entered. “And what greaves you today, Alec?”

            “Sub-Commander Tyrell!” Alec stood and saluted. “Easy now. Just call me Tyrell when I’m not on duty. Everyone else does.” Alec nodded. “Now, what’s up Alec?” Alec held the blade out to him. “The markings on this blade said ‘Yumara’ before. Even father said that. But now they don’t.” Tyrell looked at it. “Hm…It seems to have changed indeed. I can’t believe you cannot read.” Alec shrugged. “I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve never had time to learn. You know that, Tyrell.” Tyrell nodded again and looked at the marking again. “These markings look Argondosean. I cannot read these. Easily.” Tyrell pulled out the black book he liked to read so much. He muttered something and flipped some pages. “Aha!” He pointed to similar characters with their Iltazian equivalents. Alec couldn’t make out much in the book. “Those characters take the name ‘Manah’. It says here that she was the main heroine of some tale.”

            Alec nodded. “Yup. It was mother’s favorite story.” Tyrell frowned a bit. “That tale is a tragedy. Alec…the heroine, Manah, used her husband’s bones in order to avenge his death at the hands of the one who betray him. However, it was later found that she had caused his death.”

            “What?”

            “They had an argument before he left on his journey, and she said that he were better off dead. Those words killed him inside, unknown to her. To make a long story short, in order to kill the one who betray him, Manah had to kill herself.” Alec was silent. “Your mother probably liked the story so much because of the lessons that Manah learns throughout her vengeance.” Alec nodded and held up the sword. “The blade was probably enchanted to change names when the user names it.” Alec nodded again and put the blade away. He looked up at Tyrell. “How can you read Argondosean? I thought you were Iltazian.” Tyrell shook his head. “We all have dark parts of our past, Alec. That is one of those things I’d like to keep outside of the light.” Alec wanted to dig further but let it go.

            A soldier sprinted down the hallway. Soon, an entire stampede of mercenaries ran through the hall. One stopped in and called to Alec and Tyrell. “Oi, get over to field three right now: Ivan and Calvin are having a duel!” Tyrell jolted up and activated his wind magic. He took off at high speeds. Alec was following close behind. Tyrell stood at the front of the pack and Alec had to shove his way through.

            Ivan and Calvin stood a few paces apart with wooden swords. Ivan’s shirt was off, exposing a bright red quartz crystal on the center of his chest. He was a fire mage, and opted to put his focus on his chest. Very few mages did that for risk of injury. Calvin stood in his full armor. He hadn’t taken it off since Atlantis, even to sleep. Ivan’s focus began to glow as he filled his body with fire magic. This kind of inoculation would allow him to radiate intense heat. His hope was to keep Calvin at bay using this strategy. “Are you ready, Calvin?”

            “Whenever you are, Ivan.” Ivan bowed and rose his sword. Calvin marched forward. Ivan ducked under his first swing and rolled to the left. He used his momentum to drive the sword up into Calvin’s side. He roared from the impact and swung backhanded. Ivan trapped the blade between and let out a burst of hot air. Calvin retreated from the heat. Ivan tossed the wooden sword back to Calvin. “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the ring.” Calvin let out an angry growl and ran forward again. The two exchanged blows for a time before Ivan landed an uppercut to his chin. The wood cut opened a wide gash, which immediately began to bleed.

            “That’s it, Calvin. I’ve drawn blood.” Ivan said as he turned away. “I’m not done yet!” Calvin leapt up and aimed at Ivan. The commander sidestepped the blow and thrust his blade into Calvin’s chest. The man let out a gasp as all the air in his lungs was suddenly expelled. He fell to his knees. “That is quite enough, Calvin.” He said nothing as he rose to a stand. “Did you not hear what I said, Calvin?” Ivan asked. He shook his head as Calvin struggled to his feet. Calvin staggered forward and began to swipe wildly. Ivan was fed up with this pointless struggle. He took a step back. “Calvin: stop now or face the consequences.” Calvin kept walking and swinging.

            Ivan pulled out a needle made out of quartz. Tyrell began to yell to Calvin. “Stop this now. He’s being serious, Calvin.” Ivan dodged the swing and knocked Calvin’s sword clean away. Tyrell shook his head in disbelief. Then Ivan thrust the needle into a chink in Calvin’s knee plate. Calvin struggled to pull it out with his armored hands. A bright red light began to glow in Ivan’s hands. “Goodnight, Calvin.” Tyrell turned. “Anyone who is a mage needs to leave right now!” Most of the mages ran as Ivan unleashed the fire elements miasma. The resulting burst would incapacitate anyone within twenty meters, but badly singe anyone within ten meters. Not much survived within five meters.

            The heat knocked Calvin off his feet and flat on his back. Tyrell fell to a knee, Alec passed out, and most of the other recruits let out a yelp as the heat effected even the non-mages. To everyone’s shock, Calvin tried to stand up again. Ivan walked over and planted a boot on his chest. “It’s over. You lost, Calvin.” Calvin grunted and lay there as Ivan walked away. There was the sound of shifting armor as Calvin rose. “Daylanian Challenge. Now.” Ivan shook his head and kept walking. “You are in no condition for a challenge. If you want to kill yourself, do it on your own time.” Calvin repeated his challenge. Ivan stopped and turned, a literal fire burning in his eyes. “Very well.” He motioned for his sword and a mercenary ran off to grab it. Calvin picked up a broad sword.

            When Ivan’s sword arrived, Calvin was shaking with anger. Ivan drew Pompeii and leveled it at Calvin. “Ignite.” A brilliant blue flame sprouted across the length of the steel at Ivan’s command. Calvin ran forward. Their blades clashed, causing small wisps of flame to go spreading in all directions. Ivan kept on the defense as Calvin struck wildly. Soon, it became clear that Calvin was winning. Ivan couldn’t find an opportunity to counter and was soon stumbling backwards. Then Pompeii went skidding out of his hands after a powerful blow. Calvin pushed Ivan over and stepped on his left arm.

            He let out a cry of pain. “Fie! Fie, I yield!” Calvin eased the pressure. “You win, Calvin. You win.” There was a pause. Tyrell perked up all of a sudden. A worried look crossed his face, then evolved into total panic. “Not yet.” Calvin drove his sword down into Ivan’s chest, directly through the focus. Nearly as soon as the sword was poised, the Aeon Mercenaries rushed at Calvin. But he turned and fought them off. Alec and Tyrell pushed through the crowd towards the armory. “Grab a weapon!” Alec was pale. “Is my dad…?”

            “No time, Alec. Get a weapon and let us go and save him.” Tyrell grabbed his scythe and Alec went to retrieve Manah. The two met just outside the training field. Calvin had made short work of the unarmed mercenaries, and the armed ones didn’t stand much a chance against him. A few dozen Aeons hung around with Tyrell and Alec. “Kill them all…” The voice whispered to Calvin. He turned and approached the Aeons. “Stop him!” The Aeons split up and surrounded Calvin. “Prepare to die, traitor.” The left group ran at Calvin with their shields raised. As they did, the right group thrust forward with their weapons, trying to get at his back. All the while, a few men from the bottom and top groups began running in circles around him. Calvin was having trouble keeping up with the left and right groups and he lost track of a few of the men.

            “Now.” Tyrell shouted and jumped back. The left and right groups split and one of the men that was running in circles leapt at Calvin. He blocked the strike and checked the man aside. Another jumped from behind him. He dodged it, but barely. As the third one ran at him, Calvin swung. The man fell dead. A thick black cloud surrounded Calvin. He let out a massive roar and a wave of magic shot out of him. When the smog cleared, only Alec and Tyrell remained standing. Alec drew his katana. “I…I’ll kill you!” Alec ran up to Calvin with his magic glowing at full power. “DIE!” Alec yelled as he approached Calvin. Tyrell yelled to try and stop him, but to no avail.

            Alec swung and Calvin dodged. With each swing of Alec’s blade, a streak of white light followed the tip of the blade. Finally, Calvin made a mistake. Alec got in close, close enough not to miss. Alec brought the sword across the center of Calvin’s chest. Calvin dropped the sword down to block. Manah drew a pale white line across Calvin’s chest and the sword, but that was it. Calvin laughed and tossed Alec. Calvin went to thrust forward. I missed again Alec thought. His focus emptied and his magic failed. As soon as his magic ran out, the white streak that crossed Calvin’s sword returned. Only this time, the blade snapped at the line. Calvin’s eyes went wide as a wound split open across his chest. Calvin still pushed on with the broken weapon until Tyrell intervened. He swung his scythe upward and knocked the broken sword out of his hand.

            Calvin held the wound and began to seethe in anger. He reached for a weapon lying on the ground. “Is that really a good idea?” Calvin looked around at all the dead bodies. Little orbs of magic surrounded the bodies and Tyrell. His eyes were glowing with magic. “To you want to try your luck against the Necromancer?” Tyrell said. Calvin growled through his teeth. If Tyrell were to reanimate the dead around him, then Calvin would surely fall here. With this wound, it would be best to retreat. “Sirens, to me!” He called. A group of sirens appeared before Calvin and surrounded him. The Sirens disappeared and took Calvin with them.

Part 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            The Siren general lay dead on the ground. Calvin limped over to the wall and came to a rest at its base. He looked up at the sky through the slots in his mask. It was done. A strange feeling flooded his weary body. It felt like joy, but it filled his body like regret. Every part of his body felt uneasy, but it was a pleasant unease. Calvin accepted the feeling and closed his eyes. The other two Sirens watched from the distance, unsure or unwilling to take further action. As Calvin pondered, the voice returned. “They await your orders, Harbinger.” Calvin nodded. “Leave me. Go and await further orders.” It was only a whisper, yet the Sirens heard it. He saw them bow and depart.

            Calvin didn’t feel sick. The normal nausea that followed a battle didn’t show up. His body had accepted the bloodshed, the violence, and the screams. It kept him at peace: a mercenary who feels remorse does not last long. He pulled the mask off his face. It had no design on it like the other Sirens. “Why a mask?” A sudden rush of wind caught his attention. The sole Dragoon that escaped had made a feint. The soldier plummeted at Calvin. His body was too sore to move quickly. Somehow, he made it out of the way. A few more Dragoons returned with him. Calvin stood and pain shot signals all around his body. His feet were shaky and his knees were unstable.

            “Call them. Call the wrath of the Sirens upon these interlopers.” The voice echoed into this head louder than before. “Sirens. Kill them all!” As soon as the words left his mouth, several Siren troops appeared before him. Each soldier wore a suit of armor like Jealousy’s, but each ones’ mask had similar patterns. What impressed Calvin was their synchronized use of Dark Magic. They had used a Dark spell that allowed for teleportation. Those who used it nicknamed the spell ‘Blink’, because it took you to another location faster than you could blink. The troops surrounded the Dragoons and started flinging spells at the Dragoons. Once they had taken flight, the Sirens used Blink to appear behind the peaked Dragoons. Unable to turn around or fight the foes midair, the Dragoons dropped like flies. All the Sirens disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

            No sooner had they disappeared then a familiar silhouette poked itself over the horizon. Within a few minutes, the welcoming face of Tyrell came into view. Calvin smiled and held up his fist in victory. But Tyrell’s face was troubled when he responded in kind to acknowledge Calvin’s success. “How is he not excited by this win?” He muttered under his breath. “I succeeded where he failed.” Tyrell approached. Behind him was a transport wagon. Ivan led the horses, and in the back sat the boy Alec and another blonde kid. Ivan handed some papers to a guard and entered. Tyrell stayed behind to help Calvin. Calvin brushed away his help and marched into the city on his own accord.

            Calvin seemed to embrace a more menacing aura. His normally tolerable scowl had become filled with superiority. Tyrell followed slightly behind. Calvin pushed and growled his way through the crowd while Tyrell weaved his way through using a Time inoculation. When they approached the palace, the Royal Guards welcomed Tyrell, but gave an even harsher warning to Calvin than the first time. Calvin responded likewise. The two soldiers entered the council room where Ivan and Norton were talking. The sarcastic nature of Norton and the calm demeanor of Ivan made for very interesting converstation.

            “General.”

            “Mercenary.” There was a pause. It extended for a very long period of time. Almost disastrously long. Tyrell began to hum softly to alleviate the painful awkwardness. The conversation repeated once again. Then the silence returned. Norton finally cracked. “I like you. I don’t say that often, so I hope you are happy.” Ivan nodded. Norton sat down and motioned for the servants to leave. Once everyone was gone, he pulled out a hidden bottle of classy Col wine. He leaned over the table and poured Ivan a glass. “I hate this stuff,” He said as he poured himself a glass, “But it is the only palatable wine this side of Ilroy.” Ivan took a sip and put the glass down. “Agreed.” The pause stretched again.

            Norton broke it by laughing. Then he threw the glass full force on the ground. “Do you think this is a joke, sell-sword?” His voice echoed through the hollow chamber. The fragments glistened from the wine and light.

            “I’m sorry, general.”

            “You had better be.” Tyrell straightened up. “General Norton, I would ask you to treat our boss better.” Norton dismissed Tyrell with a wave. “My entire strategy has been dissolved by you mercenaries. I was planning to march in three days,” He stomped onto some of the fragments to make a point, “And now I need to stay here in case of Siren retaliation.” His voice kept booming. “So they were Sirens?” Ivan took another sip of his wine and stood. “And my man was able to fend them off. I do not see the problem here.” He took another sip and let it fall to the ground. The glass shattered.

            Norton drew his sword and ran at Ivan. Tyrell drew a knife and reacted to the General’s move. The mage moved with enhanced speed and blocked the attack at the commander’s orders. “It seems that my men are more competent than you give the credit, General.” Norton paused and sighed. “You are right.” He sat down again and pulled out a wooden flagon. He poured himself some more wine. “Thank you, Tyrell.” Norton hesitated halfway through his drink. The General glanced at the older-looking mercenary. Tyrell leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms. Norton shot a glance at Ivan. “Is he…the convict Tyrell?” Ivan nodded. “Yes. Yes he is.” The General began to sweat as he shot another wary look at the Aeon. Tyrell smiled and straightened up. Norton cleared his throat and spoke. “Well…This has taken an unexpected turn. Perhaps we can discuss this…in more comfortable accommodations?” Ivan smiled.

            “Certainly. But let’s get something stronger that this waste-water.” Norton gave a nervous laugh and led the way to his quarters. “This way. I have some Daylanian Fire Whisky back here somewhere.”

            “Now that sounds delightful.”

*****

            Alec and Ryan wandered the streets of Col towards the temple. “You really don’t need to accompany me to the temple.”

            “Actually, I would feel like I cheated you if I didn’t.” Alec and Ryan gawked at most of the vendors in the marketplace. Alec took a step towards a stall and spied a blade. “Wow…”

            “Ah! So you like the blade?” Ryan stepped forward and lifted the blade off the table. A faint blue aura surrounded him. The blade itself began to glow a faint shade of red. “Hmm…A fine blade.” The vendor scoffed. “Ha! The darn thing won’t sell. If you like it, I’ll give it to ya for fifty pieces.” Ryan glanced down at the sword. The vendor hadn’t seen the sword glow. If he had, the price would have multiplied by ten. “A fair deal, Alec. It seems that this blade was meant for you.” Alec took the blade from Ryan’s hands.

            It was a surreal weapon. It was built like a Daylanian war katana, his favorite style of weapon. The blade extended about three feet. The grip was two foot long, making the blade have greater reach. The guard was shaped like an eight-pointed star with fancy and delicate golden designs inlaid in the brass. A silver pattern decorated the base of the blade, revealing the swords maker. “Who is Yumara?” Ryan looked panicked for a moment, then shrugged. “I’ve never heard of him.” Pieces of quartz dotted the blade and guard, most likely the source of the glow that Ryan caused earlier. He ran a finger down the flat along the edge. The weapon curved slightly. Other than that, it looked like a standard sword. This quality made it extremely deadly when used en masse by a fighting force.

            “Very well…I’ll take it.” Alec paid out the pieces and took the blade with its sheath. He hung the weapon on his belt. Ryan pointed to it once they had turned. “The handle gets pointed downward: it is easier to draw that way.” Alec looked at it and adjusted it. It felt weird, it looked weird, but Ryan was right. Alec grunted to acknowledge his own stupidity. “Anyway,” Ryan said once they were out of earshot of the vendor, “The blade is a Yumara?”

            “Yes.” Ryan got excited. “Yumara is a weapon smith out of Loc! His blades are the finest in Iltaz.”

            “Wow…”

            “Not only that, but Yumara only makes magic weapons and sealing weapons. If that is a Yumara, it must be a magic weapon.” The blade seemed to feel heavier as Ryan spoke. “Wow…I know. I should give this to Father. He’s wanted a war katana for ages now. He can use a magic weapon as long as he is a mage, right?”

            “Of course.”

            “Then I’ll do that. Thanks, Ryan.” The two shook hands and started off to the temple again. A priest exited and pointed to some glyphs on the walls. A scholarly looking man followed and leaned in. The two men conversed for a while and the priest left. Alec and Ryan stepped up to see what was so special about the glyphs. The man was muttering something in a different language. He kept repeating certain words and phrases over again. The most common one was “Gii’rohn shall bear forth the end.” He sighed and glanced towards Alec and Ryan. “Oh dear. I did not see you there. My name is Logan.” He bowed. Ryan bowed shortly afterward. “I am Ryan. It is a pleasure to meet you, master Logan.” Logan chuckled. “Please, I prefer that you call me Gobehyz Logan. ‘Gobehyz’ – meaning wanderer – is my title; just as you have a title, Tolel Ryan.”

            “’Tolel’? What does that mean?” Logan smiled calmly. “It means learning one.” Ryan blushed a bit and bowed in thanks. “I am Alec, Ryan’s escort.” Alec extended his hand. Logan tilted his head for a moment before accepting. “This is such an odd custom. I am not used to this greeting.” The two shook hands. “By the by, what language were you speaking?” Logan smiled and lifted a book. “That was Dosean. I tend to mutter it when I’m studying.”

            “What are you studying now?” The scholar smiled even broader. “I’m searching Iltaz and Argondos for these glyphs. They tell an interesting story.” He opened the pages and showed Alec. “I-I’m sorry, master Logan. I cannot read.”

            “My apologies. I’m sorry, Alec.” Alec shook his head. Ryan stepped forward. “What is this…?” Logan whispered excitedly. “I don’t know. It is thrilling!” He ran his hand down the wall. “I’m getting close though.” He sighed. He turned and motioned for Ryan to follow. “Farewell, Sir Alec. I hope to see you soon.” The two entered the temple. Alec turned and walked back to the horses.

*****

            The General downed his mug shortly after Ivan did. The two poured themselves another mug of the alcohol. Calvin and Tyrell stood by the door. “So, Ivan. I want your people to fight alongside us when we march on Syl.” Ivan sat in silence. “I cannot say yea or nay. I am concerned for the safety of my men.” Norton nodded. “I hate waiting. Your man gave me a price, and I’m willing to pay it.”

            “Did he now?” Ivan turned to Calvin. “And why did he do that?” Calvin opened his mouth to say something, but Tyrell cut him off. “I think, however, that our terms have changed. We had no intentions of provoking the Sirens, and now we has incurred their wrath. Our options have indeed narrowed, but I believe it may be safer for your men if we stayed out of this war, General.” Norton gave another dismissive wave of his hand. “They don’t care. Besides, Col makes good on its dues,” He took a sip before finishing the thought, “As should mercenaries.”

            “It would seem that we are obligated to help you then, General. I will return to you soon to renegotiate our contract fees. Until then, fare thee well.” Ivan said. The General grunted and shooed the men away. They left the room and walked through the castle. Ivan turned to a guard. “Excuse me, could you clear the entryway? I wish to discuss something with my subordinates in private.” The guard nodded and within moments, the room was emptied. Ivan took off his glasses and handed them to Tyrell.

            “Calvin. Explain yourself.” Calvin shrugged. “I did my job and I should get paid for it.”

            “You disobeyed my orders.” Ivan began to raise his voice. “But I won.” Calvin matched his volume. “Do not raise your voice at me, soldier.” Ivan was yelling now. His face turned alive with magic and emotion. Calvin’s face turned red with rage. “You were only supposed to survey the situation and report back.”

            “Are you chiding me for defending a city?” Ivan pointed at Calvin. “I’m chiding you for acting foolishly. You could have died.” Calvin leaned forward to talk to Ivan’s face. “I. Cannot. Lose.”

            “Only a fool would say that.”

            “I defeated an entire unit of Dragoons.” Calvin said. “Even if you wasted an entire army, I would still be angry.” Ivan’s magic began to fill the room. The glow was so intense that Calvin had to back away. “You have brought us into this mess, Calvin.”

            “This is a war! This is what we thrive on.” Tyrell took his turn to interject. “Enough Calvin! War is not what we thrive on, it is what we survive on. I hate war,” Tyrell shook his head, “Now I sound like Norton. But it is true.”

            “I don’t want to hear that from you, Necromancer!” Before Calvin could register the mistake he had made, Tyrell flared both his magics. A blinding mix of green and sky blue lights illuminated the room and drowned out Ivan’s aura. As swiftly as the lights had arrived they vanished. Tyrell took a deep breath and turned. “I’ve nothing more to say to you.” Tyrell said. Ivan sighed and placed his hand on his head. “Let’s go before the guards get worried.” Ivan marched down the steps leading to the city. Calvin glared at the back of Tyrell’s head. “Ty…”

            “Let’s go, Calvin.”

            “But Tyrell – “

            “I am leaving.” Tyrell followed the commander down the steps. Calvin clenched his fists. All the while, the voice in the back of his head kept echoing. “Harbinger, you are made to rule over them. Go and embrace your fate!” Calvin felt his anger and sorrow mix into hatred for Ivan. He let out a curse as the guards told him to leave. The steps down to the city had not felt this lonely before to him.

            

Part 1, cChapter 4

Chapter 4

            Calvin rushed the first Dragoon. It leapt over his head just before they met. As he turned to track the first one, another landed nearby and slashed at him with a sword. Calvin only barely dodged. A third Dragoon plummeted towards him with a spear. Calvin twisted out of the way. The others in the squad started aiming for the disoriented man. By the time Calvin knew what was happening, he was bleeding from many cuts. “Kill.” The voice echoed. Calvin’s gut churned as another blade scratched his sword arm. He put one foot behind him and pointed his sword forward. He then spun, creating a small space between him and the Dragoons.

            His mind went blank. The black knight appeared in his vision. He snapped his fingers. Each dragoon appeared to Calvin as the shadows he had been cutting down night after night. The knight then put his own image on the Commander. “Come and kill me, boy.” Calvin grit his teeth and growled in rage. The images in his mind scattered, but his view on his adversaries had changed. These Dragoons were the same as shadows to Calvin. And shadows were as good as dead. The first one to move shot towards Calvin like an arrow. The mercenary raised his blade to block, but it was knocked aside by another Dragoon. A spear was thrust into Calvin’s right arm.

            He let out a howl of pain and quickly picked up his sword with his left hand. He chopped at the Dragoon currently in front of him. He dodged Calvin’s attack. Calvin roared again. He pulled the spear out of his arm and tossed it. The Dragoons dodged it. But then Calvin saw. The Dragoons could move fast. But unlike Tyrell, who could also move at alarming speeds, these Dragoons could not react well at that speed. Calvin let out a dark laugh. “And now…now I see.” The Dragoons rushed him again. Just before reaching him, they launched upwards in an attempt to distract them. Calvin looked over to where he had thrown the spear. It hadn’t gone far. He rushed towards it, leaving his sword lying in the dirt.

            The Dragoons had reached their peak, and they looked down on Calvin to kill him. The mercenary had almost reached the spear when he felt their presence rushing at him. He reached the discarded weapon and turned. As he did, Calvin thrust upward at an oncoming Dragoon. The spear punched clean through the man’s chest before splintering. The defeated soldier slammed into the ground with a thud. Calvin bent over to catch his breath. The Dragoons were stunned. One of their members had never been killed on an assault dive. Calvin stood up straight and looked into the sky.

            “Never take your eyes off the enemy, Mercenary!” The commander rushed at Calvin. The commander used his magic to increase his speed. Calvin lifted his hand towards the sun and paused. In a single movement, Calvin reached forward and grabbed the Dragoons face. The man dropped his weapon in shock. Then, the momentum carried the soldier’s body forward. The forces created by the event killed the Dragoon instantly. Calvin dropped the limp body and turned towards the Dragoons. “Here I come!” He ran forward. The troops were disciplined, but without a commander their morale dropped. Several took to the skies and ran away. However, most of the runners were targeted by Norton’s soldiers on the wall.

            Those who stayed split up into two groups and charged Calvin. Calvin picked up a stray sword and began to fight them off. Even when two or more came at him at once, Calvin was able to avoid their attacks and keep up. A spear head was deflected by his blade, while dodging another’s sword. Calvin thought he felt an arrow pass his head. He looked up. A Dragoon was jumping up sporadically. The solider would fire an arrow down at Calvin every time he reached his peak. Calvin paused. A Dragoon ran at him instead of using magic. At least they were learning. Calvin parried the attack and lifted the soldier. “Enjoy the flight!” He tossed the man with inhuman strength. The Dragoon hit his squad mate. Both hit the ground and stopped moving.

            Now, only four Dragoons remained to fight Calvin. They were wary, they were battered, and Calvin was winning. Calvin launched the next string of attacks. A flurry of steel encapsulated the Dragoons. He staggered one and then turned to harass another. He let their fear and pain continue. If they tried to escape, Calvin put all his attention onto the runner. When they could no longer dodge, block, or run, Calvin ended their lives. The voice in his head would congratulate him on every successful kill.

            When everything was quiet, Calvin looked at the carnage he had just caused. An entire unit of Dragoons, slaughtered. Cheers rang out from atop the wall. Even Norton had a small expression that slightly resembled a smile. Calvin faced the wall and raised his fist.

            However, the crowd slowly calmed down. Calvin turned and saw three figures standing on the horizon. Each was wrapped in a black robe. The hood was drawn over their faces. Calvin smiled on the inside. “Go to them.” He took off running. The hooded figures exchanged glances and separated. One took a knee and handed Calvin a mask. It was flat and smooth, with eye slots barely large enough to see through. The black metal made it look like a mirror. “Wear this. It is his orders.” Calvin did so. The cold steel seemed to burn his face. A mysterious power began to well up inside of him. It felt unlike anything Calvin had felt before: an uncomfortable feeling, but one that he found oddly enjoyable. As soon as he opened his eyes, the man tossed off his robe and drew two scimitars. Under the robe was a set of leather armor, dyed black. A mask similar to Calvin’s covered this man’s face. This one had a glowing red pattern, a crescent moon covering the left side of his face.

            Calvin was fighting his first Siren. He had anticipated this day from the moment the civil war broke out. However, to be fighting one now was a shock. Calvin was weary from his earlier bout. The adrenalin rush he had was slowing coming down. It was only a matter of time before the sickness overcame him. He still couldn’t finish a bout without feeling nauseous afterwards. Calvin twisted his stance to be more offensive. After all, a good offensive is the best defense. Their blades clashed. More than a few time, the opponent’s scimitars cut a bit too close. Calvin’s armor was now little more than scrap metal and leather strips.

            The Siren attacked Calvin viciously. Calvin fought back as best he could. The voice in his head echoed again. “Kill.” Calvin used his size to his advantage. He put his full weight into every block in an attempt to knock his attacker off balance. Calvin saw his moment and pushed the Siren away. The Siren seemed a bit surprised. He took a moment to gather his composure. The Siren stood at an angle, pointing both scimitars at Calvin. Calvin, on the other hand, sunk to a knee and began to feel nauseous, making him gag. He reached down and picked up a second sword to distract himself. Now he and the Siren were evenly matched. Or at least evenly armed. Both glared at each other. Calvin couldn’t see his attacker’s eyes. He felt them though. They were watching his every move. Judging him.

            “Let’s end this!” Calvin called whilst running at the Siren. The man held his stance and waited. Something was off to Calvin. The Siren seemed to be waiting for Calvin to do something. The mercenary was not fond of changing his tactics. In situations like this, he trusted his gut and changed things up. He quickly darted to the Siren’s left and used his longer arms to thrust forward. His foe took a step back. Too slowly. Calvin swung both of his swords outward. Sure, it exposed his chest, but his attacker was in no position to counter. The Siren back peddled a safe distance. He dropped to a knee and felt his side. Surely enough, a deep crimson stain began to spread around his ribs. “Well played…I hadn’t thought you would be this good.”

            The Siren rose and began to flourish his weapons. The steel glistened in the sunlight. “Come, powers of Darkness!” A burst of dark light shot out from the ground between the two combatants. The color washed out of the surrounding areas. The ground began to wilt and flood. Footing became treacherous. The field of combat now resembled the wasteland that Calvin had become familiar with in his dreams.

            “This place? How do you - ? Have you been here before?”

            “Yes. Did you think you were the only one?” The Siren adjusted his stance for the terrain. “I am Siren Jealousy, Harbinger of Calamity.” He bowed as best he could with his hands full.

            “I am Aeon Calvin, Sub Commander.” Calvin returned the favor. The two men took a ready stance and watched each other. “Well, Calvin. I shall come at you with my full strength. I hope you are adequately prepared to deal with a Siren Shadow Mage!” Calvin kept a calm look on his face as fear surge within his body. He was not adequately prepared. He had trouble dealing with Tyrell. How was he supposed to deal with a dark mage? Calvin took a step forward into the marsh. He smiled again. “Come at me then!”

            Jealousy ran forward with his focus radiating a black smoky substance. Calvin took a long breath. The feeling he had felt earlier was coming back to him. The voice in his head sounded so much louder with the mask on. “How do you plan on combating a mage?”

            “I don’t know.” Calvin raised his sword to block. The impact of Jealousy’s scimitars felt stronger. It was almost as if he had gotten twice as strong. Calvin’s mind immediately went to what Tyrell had said about magical inoculation. Calvin had to outlast the Siren if he had any hope of winning. Calvin swung both his swords inward in an attempt to get Jealousy to jump back. Instead, he dropped both his scimitars into the mud. The man grabbed both of Calvin’s blades mid swing and kicked him in the chest. It felt as though he had been tackled by a bear. The man was sent skidding several feet after the impact.

            “That was one…no, two ribs. For certain. Maybe a few other minor bones to be sure.” Jealousy tossed aside the second set of blades in favor of his. He waltzed up to Calvin. The mercenary rose to his feet and put up his fists. “Just give up, Calvin. You are no match for my champion.” Calvin felt the pain in his ribs. He had been a stubborn fool to challenge Jealousy. His thick headed schemes had always come back to bite him. At least Tyrell had been there to come up with an idiotic idea that somehow worked. “Master is correct, Calvin. You are no match for me. It is a shame that you have to die.” Calvin nodded. He was not surprised that Jealousy could hear the voice after he recreated the arena from the dream. “A shame indeed.” Calvin said. Jealousy responded coldly. “You put up a good fight.”

            “I’m not done yet, Siren.” Jealousy came in for the final blow. And Calvin dropped to his knees. Jealousy only paused a second, but it was all Calvin needed to head-butt the man in the gut. Not even Tyrell could have come up with a better idea. Calvin then rose to his feet and punched the man in the mask. The Siren staggered backwards and put up his fists as well. Once it came down to a brawl, Calvin had an advantage. He used his size to dominate the smaller Siren. Even though the man had been enhance with magic, Calvin’s onslaught proved to be too much.

            Jealousy held his right arm back as a dark magic coated it. “I do not think so!” Calvin grabbed his arm. The pain from the magic shot through his entire body, but to no avail. Calvin got his second wind and he blocked out the pain. He grappled with the Siren and pinned his arm behind him. With his other arm, Calvin put Jealousy in a choke hold. “I’m sorry…but no amount of magic will help you now.” The Siren tried all he could, but his magic ran dry. Soon, all he could do was gasp for air. Even as the Siren lay dying in Calvin’s grip, the voice echoed throughout his entire body. “Good work…my new champion. Welcome, Siren Harbinger.”     Calvin nodded in acknowledgement of his new name. It seemed fitting for him. He had conqurered not only the Dragoons, but also Calamity’s Champion. Pride filled his being at his ability to overcome these challenges. He should be revered upon entering Atlantis after this. He should be respected in the Aeons. Maybe even get a promotion. The dreams he had been having all this time finally meant something to him. They had given him a feeling of power that he never experienced. Calvin - no, Harbinger - was given new purpose in life.