The Keys to Ascension Page 36

  Then, something flashed by him. He tried to stare after it, but saw nothing. A bat?

  Listening and watching, he detected more dark blurs and flapping wings. He looked up and noticed large objects floating in the sky, coming downward. Things breathed and shuffled inside them.

  Parto ran inside the great lookout spire and yelled at the bell guards. “Alarm! Alarm! Ring the bell! We’re under attack!”

  One looked at him with confusion, the other shock. They examined his dark inquisitor robes then obeyed and pulled on the rope sounding the bell. Other bells followed, alerting the city of the attack…if there really was attack. Only for half a second did Parto worry about being wrong. He ran down the steps, then dashed to the wall where he saw the most movement.

  As he neared, he heard fighting and death. People screamed behind him. He flashed around.

  A giant bat clutching to some sort of carriage flew toward the street. The carriage landed and weird eyeless creatures with spears stepped out.

  Troglodytes?

  Parto dashed forward with a long dagger in each hand. More creatures still stepped out of the carriage. He slammed a dagger through the head of one, lunged, penetrating the chest of another. The second one moaned some sort of wet sound and fell over.

  Others exited the carriage and the bat started lifting it. It appeared to have held eight enemies.

  Parto dodged two spears, then jumped past one trog before stabbing two of them through their heads.

  He leapt onto the side of the carriage, then propelled himself to the top where the bat screeched and flapped more vigorously. He leapt over the creature, which dropped the carriage and screeched again. Parto put the bat in a head lock. As it flew high, he choked it tight. It flipped and spun, but Parto’s limbs held on.

  In the same place in his gut that seemed to pulse when he detected maleefas, he warmed. “Stop your resistance or I’ll choke you to death.”

  The bat flew straight. Parto suggested a direction by slightly moving his thighs. The bat obeyed, swooping toward the four trogs still on the street. Buzzing by them, Parto flashed his daggers, killing all four of them, then he flew toward the wall overran by enemies.

  The Hyzantrian army had rallied, but the trogs with their spears held them off between two covered passageways and the inside stairs. Parto leapt off the bat, right in the middle of the trogs. He stabbed again and again while twisting his body and moving his head to evade spears that came at him. The trogs yelled with their large mouths full of sharp teeth. Parto stabbed many right through these mouths, yanking back his hand before the jaws closed.

  The distraction gave Hyzantrian soldiers the edge and they pushed in on the troglodytes from all sides. In minutes, that wall section was covered in the corpses of weird humanoids colored different shades of green and grey.

  With the attack spotted, soldiers quickly cleaned up the assailants in the city and no more came.

  Ch. 63

  Finio hoped the chinchilla was okay bouncing around on his back while Finio focused on his posture as the horse galloped. He was never a great horseman, and going so fast for so long with a huge pot on his back required a little focus.

  He stared ahead where the flags above the horse-station flapped in the wind.

  To his right, Lizeto yelled, “Finally. Do we get to eat there?”

  “A little water, but not food yet.”

  Finio expected a crude comment from Kericles on his left, but none came. He glanced at the Citian, who appeared to be concentrating on riding as well. Both Lizeto and Kericles looked weird out of their armor—weird and vulnerable.

  They arrived at the small, round stable-fort. The group of Hyzantrian scouts dismounted two by two and allowed stable hands to lead the horses into the right side of the fort while other stable hands brought fresh horses out on the left side. Servants handed out mugs of water.

  If this scouting party was delivering an urgent message along a safe route, they’d immediately ride off again. But orders were to stay rested in case of attack, so the scouts took their time drinking.

  Kericles approached Lizeto.

  Not now…

  “Outside of your armor, I can see you got some muscle. The problem is…it’s surrounded by chub.”

  Lizeto shook his head. “Real buff guys look like this. Not everyone is a pretty little stone like you. I’m surprised a Citian would fight outside his precious magic armor.”

  “Anyone with brains knows to wear the best armor possible.” Kericles leaned forward and whispered at a level only the three of them could hear, “Too bad Hyzantrians care more about wishful thinking than actual battle implements.”

  Lizeto smirked. “We got no disagreement there.”

  A little heat rose in Finio, listening to these two insult his people. “You guys saw the power of faith in that last battle. I’m not saying The Divinity intervened, but something allowed us to rally against such odds.”

  Kericles shrugged. “The city rallied desperately. What won the day was luck.”

  Lizeto shook his head. “Na man, it was the might of the Hyzantrian people.”

  Before Kericles could speak, Lizeto pointed at something away from the stable-fort. The other two turned.

  An inquisitor on his white horse and in white robes rode toward them. That could be Parto. Chances are it isn’t, but…

  The inquisitor dismounted before speaking with the scout captain for a minute, then came toward Finio with a mug of water.

  Finio saw himself in inquisitor robes; Parto approached him.

  Lizeto jumped and patted him on the shoulder. “The hero of the night!”

  Parto dismissed the comment with a hand.

  “Hey brother,” Finio said, “if not for you, the capital may have been overrun.”

  Lizeto lowered his chin, pushing his fat out while bulging his eyes and throwing up his hands. “I still can’t believe this guy’s an inquisitor. I told so many people about how you survived the mines. I’m gonna look like a fool!”

  Parto locked eyes with Lizeto while smiling. “Sorry about that. We’re not supposed to advertise it, but we can do our work even if our friends find out. Please don’t tell your father yet.”

  Parto then glanced at all three of them. “What are you guys doing with the scout team? You two,” he pointed at Lizeto and Kericles, “can’t wear your heavy armor, and you,” he pointed at Finio, “are gonna get your maleefa-self killed.”

  A part of Finio urged him to argue about the maleefa comment, but Parto always had stuck more to the scriptures than Finio or Theto.

  “Hey,” Kericles said, “they’re paying us quite a bit of coin for this work, and I don’t want to spend another minute sitting around a city. I want to know what in glory’s name is going on.”

  Parto scanned them with a serious face. “You’ll see some of it soon. The cities are mostly left unharmed and unoccupied, but military forts and cities’ military districts have been destroyed. Again, not occupied. The monsters appear completely inactive during the day. Northern Hyzantria is covered in strange fortresses. They don’t have walls or spires. They’re just dark blocks, completely enclosed. And they’re guarded by maleefa-summoned elemental creatures of stone and earth.”

  Kericles angled his head to the side. “Uuuuuh, are you making this up?”

  Parto shook his head, then reached into his robes. “These have been dropped all over peasant towns and villages.” He pulled out a letter then handed it to Finio.

  They read it together. Kericles and Lizeto laughed mid-read.

  “Such flowery rhetoric,” Lizeto said, “Are we fighting a bunch of theater mages?”

  Mockingly, Kericles read, “And for true justice, true liberty, and the true way all men should live, your heart demands your aid. Head to the estra mines. Sweat for your freedom. A little extra work today will earn you a lifetime of liberation.”

  Finio looked at Parto. “Are peasants actually responding to this?”

  Shaking his head, Parto
said, “No. They’re scared of maleefa and monsters. Even those that may resent the nobility aren’t gonna join forces with such allies.” Parto faced Lizeto. “Haven’t you received a letter of your own?”

  Lizeto breathed in deep. He glanced at Finio. “My father demands that I return to our fortress. But it isn’t under attack. I’m not gonna hide with my dad while Hyzantria is under attack. I’m gonna kick some butt.”

  Parto smiled. “Good, friend, good. I must go.” He turned around, flicking his robes into the air, then strode back to his horse.

  Moments after Parto left, the scout captain mounted, and the others followed. It was time for Finio to see for himself what in The Divinity’s power had invaded Hyzantria.

  #

  The unmoving, roughly human-shaped, beings thicker than horses and made of dirt, grass, and/or rock, surrounded the dark building. The structure seemed to shine despite its blackness. Finio had never seen such material. He wondered if anyone in Hyzantria knew what the walls were made of.

  On top of his horse, the scout captain inched closer, then, two of the beings lifted their wide, round heads that rested on their bodies, as thick as ten men. The two nearest moaned with their mouths that encompassed the entire bottom part of their heads. All other of the creatures, standing equal distance apart and surrounding the fortress lifted their heads as well.

  The captain froze.

  Finio whispered to himself: “The Divinity, those things look invincible.”

  The scouts had ridden hard all morning and afternoon to get to one of these fortresses, but now they all wanted to ride away, and fast.

  The two closest golems charged, hollering a deep roar with their huge mouths as their heavy bodies pounded off the ground.

  “Fall back!” The captain, and everyone else, whirled their horses around and galloped away.

  Finio resisted the urge to magically enhance his horse, afraid that even these scouts may arrest him if they saw him use a high being.

  Thanks to their horses, they escaped. All gathered around the scout captain as the sky darkened.

  He said, “I believe these fortresses scattered around our land will open when the sun no longer shines. Split up and find a place to sleep in the cities. We may be safe there. Those that survive the night meet at Stable-Fort Three an hour after first light tomorrow.”

  #

  Tyzonio crossed his arms as he looked over the side of the bat-flown carriage to see no peasants working the mines down below. He still couldn’t believe how bad the troglodytes mined each night. They live underground for equality’s sake. How could they not be effective miners? He needed the populace to work for him. He needed them to appreciate him. He needed them to shout for joy at the liberty that he was bringing them.

  The bat glided him downward, flying in a circle and landing the carriage. “Thank you, friend.”

  Tyzonio stepped out and scanned the ground, looking at the scattered notes that had been dropped the night before. “Well, the drop coverage was good. The message has gotten out.”

  The bat pumped its wings and lifted off as Tyzonio strode toward the nearest shack that the villagers used as homes. He knocked a few times, then entered the home—nothing barred the door. A bed and a small desk made up the entire room, but no people. He went back outside. The village consisted of a collection of shacks around a dirt road that led from the mine to a stone road.

  After entering a few more empty shacks, he stood in the middle of the village and yelled, “Is anyone here? Come out immediately.”

  He waited, hearing no sound. “I demand it! Come out or I will raze these pathetic constructions you call your homes.”

  Finally, movement came from one of the shacks. Tyzonio waited. A man with messy hair and in a dirty sleeping outfit stepped out. Behind him walked two little daughters. He paused and stared at Tyzonio who motioned the peasant hither with his black gloved hand.

  He came with his daughters in toe.

  “Where is everyone?” Tyzonio asked.

  The peasant looked at Tyzonio like he was an idiot. “They ran away. No one wants to be killed or enslaved by monsters.”

  “Chah.” Tyzonio shook his head. “Why these beings are not monsters. They are just different. And no one is being enslaved, but liberated. Even if you fear the troglodytes and palberos, they are under my control and there is no need to fear me.”

  The apparently dull peasant stared at Tyzonio perplexed. “But you’re the biggest monster. You’re a maleefa.”

  Speaking under his breath, Tyzonio said, “Ignorant peasant.” He then spoke louder, “I bring freedom, liberation, and equality. I am your redeemer. But I need you to help me in your own redemption. You miners need to work every waking moment to gather estra, then bring it north. With enough of it, my friends can use it to finish off your oppressors.”

  “Your friends are maleefa too?”

  “Yeah, stop saying that word. Can’t you see magic is just a tool? The nobles exploit your fear to rule over you. Before you can liberate your body, you must first liberate your mind.”

  The two stared at each other. The daughters stared at Tyzonio too.

  The man looked at the ground, then back at Tyzonio. “Well, I can’t mine by myself. Can you go now?”

  “What?” Anger flashed through Tyzonio. “You ask the savior of mankind to go instead of kissing his feet and thanking him? The insult!”

  He called on Eerra’s power over elements and created a blast of air behind the shack the man came from. While the man still turned to look at the destruction, Tyzonio blasted air behind three shards of wood. They went flying toward the peasants, lodging themselves into the man and each of the daughters’ brains. They fell dead.

  Tyzonio kicked a few letters near him. “The next ones will explain why I sent trogs to slaughter random villages as appropriate punishment. If you join with the oppressors, and their oppressing idea of their divinity, then you must be punished for the extent that you limit the good of all society.” The bat already flew toward him with the carriage. Tyzonio had been calling the creature through Bshtoon’s power.

  Ch. 64

  In his black robes, Parto sat in the long grass, unable to see much besides grass, but he could hear. He listened for foreign creatures. Reports indicated there were always a few stragglers coming to their daytime constructions late. What good would it do to kill a few? With no leads on the whereabouts of the wizards, Parto could do nothing better.

  The sun started to finally rise. A deep moan sounded from far away.

  Parto moved, brushing through long grass before coming into shorter grass and seeing in the distance one of the fat and tall palberos. Parto jogged forward, sighting three troglodytes with the bigger monster. The trogs walked slow with their hands over their little slits for eyes. It had taken a long time for Parto to even realize those were eyes, but apparently, they couldn’t handle sunlight. The palbero also covered its eye.

  The big thing moaned again. Parto sprinted, holding a throwing dagger in each hand. He threw. The weapons spun forward as he pulled out a long and medium dagger. Each thrown blade penetrated the skull of a trog. The other trog screamed while the palbero spun around, thudding its heavy feet.

  As both of them lifted their hands away from their eyes, they groaned. The palbero released a deep baritone and the troglodytes a higher noise that sounded a little wet. They didn’t produce sounds for long. Parto stabbed the trog through the skull, then ducked a wild swing from the palbero before leaping onto its chest, clinging onto a shoulder with one hand.

  With both arms, the big thing tried to smash Parto, but he yanked himself onto the shoulders while also stabbing with the dagger. It slid right into the monster’s eye. Parto leapt off the falling creature before it crashed to the ground.

  He crouched, swiveling his head and listening for more. He heard none. He then approached the creatures. They wore no clothes. He’d seen palberos carry clubs, axes, and hammers, but this one had no weapons. The trogs had their
usual wooden spears tipped with a metal point.

  I’ve confirmed that these things are vulnerable to sunlight. Everyone must be informed.

  He jogged to where he had hidden his horse in the long grass. He jumped on it and rode off.

  I’ve got to ask if there are more reports about the library break-ins. What type of magic are the maleefa looking for?

  #

  Finio’s horse walked forward, taking Finio through the night beside the other scouts. He gazed at the bats circling above. “I don’t suppose it’s just a coincidence they’ve been above us for the past hour?”

  Kericles shook his head. “I’ve been watching a few fly back and forth between us and the army.”

  “Why don’t they send someone back here to kill us?”

  “We’re gnats to an army that large. It’s not even worth the bother.”

  Lizeto spoke up. “Why do they move so slow? Obviously they’re headed toward the capital.”

  “They seem to be destroying every military outpost north of their large armies,” Kericles said, “and other scouts say they leave smaller day fortresses behind and mine estra. They’re making sure nothing hits them in the rear while establishing actual control over a key resource.”

  Finio whispered, “What in The Divinity’s name are they gonna use that estra for?”

  Lizeto started to speak, but then pointed toward the nighttime sky. “Look.”

  A man appeared to soar through the sky toward the army they trailed.

  The scout captain’s horse sped up a little. “We’ve got to see what that guy does.”

  All of them rode forward till they could see the massive army of troglodytes and palberos. Finio lost sight of the wizard, but he must have landed in that army somewhere.

  Then, the army came to a rolling halt—they didn’t all stop at once with military precision, but stopped like a group of children realizing that the teacher asked them to wait.