34.

  Faelwen

  I lowered myself to the edge of the shrine, fingers trembling as I braced my back against the cold stone. My heart hammered so violently it felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

  Artemis… a god?

  One of the ancient ones who shaped the realms from nothingness?

  I forced air into my lungs, fighting the dizziness that bloomed at the edges of my vision. Fighting the betrayal rising like a tide inside me.

  But anger won.

  “Why did you keep this a secret?” My voice cracked into a whisper. The gathered mages looked up, confused, glancing at one another as though trying to decipher who I was speaking to.

  Because I wanted you to keep trusting me. To gather the stones and…

  “So you used me?” The accusation tore out of me before I could swallow it. The heat climbed to my cheeks, and tears pressed hard behind my eyes.

  No, Wen. Never. You were always meant to walk this path.

  “Don’t give me your philosophical excuses, Artemis.” Rage sharpened every word. “I thought we were friends.”

  We are. His voice buckled, only slightly but enough to wound me deeper. We are, Wen. Please listen.

  “I don’t want to listen anymore,” I hissed. “You kept this secret for years. I grew up with you. I trusted you.”

  Wen.. he tried to stop me.

  But anger had already devoured every remaining bit of reason.

  “You had a hundred chances to tell me. I’m not a child anymore you need to shield. And now you tell me it was faith? Fate that I had to walk this cursed path? That I had be torn apart again and again for those stupid stones. For this stupid war?!”

  Tears slipped free. I didn’t bother to hide them. Artemis stayed silent. He let me break. Let me spit every shard of hurt into the air between us. Let me be angry. But his silence… gods, his silence only stoked the fire.

  “Why aren’t you responding?” My voice rose into a scream. “Say something!”

  He finally exhaled.

  I’m sorry I hurt you, Wen. I don’t want to fight with you. I didn’t choose your fate… I only guided you.

  “Guided me?” The words tasted like ash.

  When I created the realms, I made a mistake, and…

  “Oh, so you guided me to fix your mistake?” I snapped. He closed his eyes, a sigh rippling through the magic between us.

  Our friendship is real, Wen. Whether you believe me or not. I never wanted you tangled in my mess. And when I realized you were, it was already too late. All I could do was guide you. Keep you alive. Because believe it or not… I care for you.

  “For we are pack, right?” Sarcasm dripped like venom, leaving a sour after taste.

  Yes, Wen. His tone firmed, unimpressed by my anger. We are pack. And pack members protect one another. Always.

  One of the magi cleared his throat, dragging me out of the whirlwind inside my skull.

  Only then did I hear the world again. The roars of drakes, the clash of blades against bone, the nearing chaos. We didn’t have the luxury of this argument. Not now.

  I wiped my tears in a single sharp motion and faced the circle. I forced my emotions into some locked place deep inside my mind, a place I’d deal with another time.

  I will explain everything, Wen. Artemis’s voice softened. I’ll show you my journey. The truth from the moment creation sparked to the moment I found you. And then you’ll understand.

  His promise did nothing to calm the storm inside me.

  But the world didn’t pause for my pain, so I moved forward.

  Artemis jumped from the shrine, and I followed him to the magi who stood waiting around the pentagon of runes. My hand curled around the last runestone from my backpack.

  The rune of Tides.

  Embodying memory, reflection and transformation.

  Of course it would be mine.

  One of the magi passed me a piece of chalk, and I knelt to draw the rune into the circle. Breath, Flame, Shadows, Healing, Tides – five runes forming a perfect pentagon and humming faintly with dormant power.

  Artemis stepped into the centre and met every gaze. His eyes reached mine, saying more than words could every say. Love. Hope. Hurt. Shame.

  All burning in the molten gold of his stare.

  I swallowed hard and made myself a silent promise: I would listen. Even if I was angry. He deserved to be heard without my fury tearing everything apart.

  His voice then unfurled across our minds, filling the air with the weight of truth. The magi stiffened in surprise, hearing his voice inside their head.

  I am Artemis, first born of Nothingness. One of the Ancient Gods. Creator of the Runestones of Creation. And I will wield their magic to stop the Fiend for good.

  Shock rippled through the magi, but before anyone could speak, he continued.

  First, we must awaken the stones. They have slept for centuries. Open your gates to the Weave and use yourself as conduits. I’ll do the rest.

  “But…” one of the elven sorcerers faltered.

  Do not fear, Artemis soothed apparently knowing what the sorcerer was about to say. You control how much energy you give. I will ensure none of you burn out.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  My gaze fell to the Tide stone at my feet. I swallowed, hard. A voice in the back of my mind reminding me of what happened to magi who burn out.

  The Nether Realm.

  We exchanged a final glance before closing our eyes and reaching inward, to our own doorways to the Weave. Artemis guided us, ancient words echoing through our minds. The incantation was Draconic, old and resonant.

  I only recognized it because of our meeting with the dragonkin.

  “Rocenoor wer vyrs dwer vaslakni.”

  Awaken the power from the universe.

  The incantation rippled in unison through the Temple. A low, resonant hum that threaded itself into the marrow of my bones. At the same moment, I opened the windows of my mind and let the magic of the world rush in.

  Power surged through me. Goosebumps rose across my skin like frost blooming on glass. My entire focus narrowed to the electric hiss of the Weave vibrating through the air. That’s when I felt it.

  The pull.

  It latched onto my reserves, hungry, drawing magic I had willingly opened myself to. The Runestones of Creation were drinking from us. Using us as conduits to reawaken their ancient hearts.

  I opened my eyes just in time to see a thread of silver light spill from my palms toward the Tides stone. From the stone, another beam shot toward Artemis.

  Around the circle, all five runes lit in their distinct hues.

  Silver-blue, copper-red, turquoise, onyx-purple, ochre-yellow, merging into a blinding white radiance that engulfed Artemis entirely.

  I had to squeeze my eyes shut; the brilliance was unbearable. A wave of pure, overwhelming energy crashed over me, setting every nerve alight. My heart thundered. My jaw clenched until it ached.

  And yet…

  Gods, it felt euphoric.

  For a heartbeat, I believed I could tear the Fiend from existence with my bare hands. My previous pain and fury all dissolved in the light.

  Slowly the stones began to pulse with their own magic.

  Ancient.

  Vast.

  Older than breath, older than stars. They pulled harder on the Weave, through me, until my senses overloaded.

  A silent cry escaped me.

  Just when I thought I would splinter apart, Artemis’s presence brushed against my soul. Warm, familiar and steady as always.

  Follow me, Wen.

  And for the first time, I consciously let go of my body. My soul drifted, weightless through time and space. At first it felt like floating on a gentle current. Then images broke through. Stars scattered across a black canvas, drifting planets, a flicker of the battle raging outside the Temple.

  Here, Wen. Follow my voice.

  Instinct guided me. I imagined Artemis, picturing him as I had always known him, and felt myself drawn toward that essence.

  The world shifted and folded open like a book. When the haze cleared, I stood in the forest where we had first met.

  Giant trees reaching towards a clouded sky. The sound of birds chirping and small animals running around in the underbrush.

  But the wolf I knew was not waiting for me. A figure stood before me draped in an off-white robe with a golden breastplate. A hood shadowed his features, and a wolf-shaped mask of beaten gold concealed his face.

  In his hand he held a staff taller then he was, crowned with a pale orb that shimmered like the full moon.

  “A… Artemis?” I breathed, stepping forward on trembling feet.

  He slipped off the hood and the mask. The face beneath was ageless. White hair falling to his shoulders, golden eyes bright with that familiar wolfish grin.

  In an instant, deep inside, I knew.

  This was him. The one who had been with me almost all my life. My companion. My Buddy.

  “Now you see me as I truly am, little one,” he said, and this time his voice filled the air instead of my mind.

  I froze, unable to run, unable to reach. Every emotion I’d ever felt warred inside me: fear, anger, grief… love, hope.

  “Please, Wen.” His voice softened into something unbearably sincere. “Give me the chance to explain. To show you what happened. I never meant to draw you into this. You gave me something I thought I lost long ago.”

  He extended his hand as he said: “A family to lean on.”

  My fingers shook as I placed my small hand in his. Expecting the warm fur I used to scratch when nervous, but instead I felt smooth skin.

  His hand closed around mine. Gently. Protectively.

  “Stay close,” he murmured as the world spun into a blur.

  ? ? ?

  Ash

  “Pull!”

  The lieutenant’s command cut through the thunder of battle. Two soldiers released the arm of the catapult, and a boulder nearly the size of the drakes split the sky as it launched. It slammed into a drake mid-flight, cracking bone and sending the creature spiralling. It roared in agony before it crashed into the earth.

  Archers loosed volleys into its wings to prevent it from flying away. Cavalry swept around, spears lowered, striking as one unified force.

  Months of war, months of practice had them moving like a single creature. I stared in fascination.

  “Load!”

  The command broke through my thoughts. Spook and I sprinted toward the heap of stones collected over weeks of defence. Each of us carrying a log that we used together to roll the stone towards the catapult.

  Soldiers swarmed around us using robes to haul the boulder into the catapult.

  The arm slammed down, rose and…

  Another boulder soared.

  But this time there was no triumphant feeling as the boulder flew through the sky. I felt the air shift alerting my senses. A crackling wave of raw energy rippled across the battlefield causing lightning to strike down from the heavens. The sky dimmed as though shadows were swallowing the sun.

  My muscles tensed and my heartbeat increased.

  Then came the sound…

  A tearing, screaming rip of the earth itself. The ground split open. Black fissures tore through the ranks of cavalry, horses shrieking as they toppled into the abyss with their riders.

  From the rifts crawled nightmares. Not just undead, these were horrors wrenched from the darkest places in the Underworld.

  Demons with twisting horns, hags with bone-white claws, wraiths shrieking like frozen wind.

  “Spook!” I barked, motioning him toward the nearest breach. His pale face a mask to hide the rising panic inside his mind. We broke into a run.

  He reached the undead first – of course he did – moving like a living shadow. His blades were flashes of silver, cutting through rot and bone, with that uncanny grace only Spook possessed.

  I stopped at the edge of the torn earth and inhaled deeply to calm my frantic beating heart.

  Rot. Decay. The copper-sweet scent of death.

  It smelt so familiar to me.

  I raised my hands as my lips began the incantation instinctively. Words etched into my mind long before this war.

  Magic roared to life around me and my robes whipped in the wind it created. Gasps rippled from soldiers nearby as they saw the transformation. The red glow in my eyes.

  The blackened veins spidering across my skin. The mist that bled from the ground like spilled blood.

  From that mist rose my revenants risen from their slumber.

  Dozens.

  They screamed as they lunged into battle, tearing through demons, hags, undead, even drakes.

  My power thrummed like a war drum. I pushed myself to my limit, raising every fallen soldier from the ground, every soul I could drag from the Underworld.

  Every time one fell, I raised another.

  And another.

  And another.

  I wanted them to clash against the drakes, the demons, undead and hags like waves against rocks.

  A powerful feeling off bliss and euphoria coursed through me as I commanded my minions to tear apart their opponents. A laugh escaped my lips, low and dark.

  The march was unending.

  But my body wasn’t.

  The spell devoured my reserves like hungry wolves. My heart pounded violently; every breath scraped raw through my lungs. My muscles burned, trembling with fatigue.

  Even though my mind and soul wanted to push on, my body screamed for me to stop.

  With a groan, I severed the spell and instantly felt the damage the spell had done to my body. Disappointment rushed through me. “Fuck,” I cursed softly.

  Pain hit instantly. A deep, brutal ache that radiated through every limb.

  “How many?” I choked out, voice rough. Spook skidded to my side, chest heaving, eyes wide with awe and horror.

  “Hundreds,” he whispered. “You summoned hundreds of them.”

  I blinked through the haze and saw the carnage I had wrought. Bodies everywhere. Drakes torn in half, their black blood soaking into the mud, undead twisted and broken in heaps. And demons shredded by my risen army.

  “Regroup!” Someone shouted.

  But the cry died as everyone turned east and froze.

  A black sea of horrific creatures marched toward us in perfect, terrible formation. Above them, wings spanning the width of the battlefield, soared the largest drake I had every seen. Its scales shimmering like polished obsidian.

  On its back sat the Fiend.

  Grinning.

  Cold washed over me. I trembled despite myself.

  This was it.

  The moment I had dreaded. The moment I knew would come.

  I grabbed Spook’s shoulder and forced him to look at me. His face had gone pale; fear tightened his throat.

  “I want you to promise me something.” My voice didn’t shake despite the anxiety screaming in my head. “Look after them for me.”

  “Them?” He responded confused.

  “Yes! Faelwen and our baby. Promise me!”

  “I promise,” he said, voice trembling.

  Before he could stop me, I ran.

  Straight toward the Temple of Herdus. Toward the place where Artemis’s light split the sky.

  Toward the Fiend who descended in a streak of lightning and shadow straight of its entrance.