Chapter 504: A True Red (Patreon)

30 minutes before the arrival of the Frost Mist…

A loud crashing noise resounded through the old temple’s walls. The orphans trembled at the shrieking sound of stone grating on metal. They sat on the floor of the main hall and whimpered quietly. Some hugged each other for solace, while others knelt in front of the statues of the Ebon gods and prayed for salvation.

Witt went around and gave what little consolement he could, sharing forced but bright smiles, and giving hugs to the children that needed it the most while swearing everything was going to be alright.

Karen’s little sister, Sophi sat next to their mother, her little fingers grasping Shirleen’s bandaged hand tightly. Shirleen lay on a cot, the wounds from trebuchet bombardment and the collapse of their house evident across her bandaged body. She could barely keep her eyes open, but her gaze was fixed on her eldest daughter, standing under the doorway.

Karen held her bow, arrow notched. The door was wide open, giving her a clear view of the worn pathway through the small courtyard that led straight to the temple’s gate. A year ago, the gate had simply been a few rusty metal bars that had seen a better century. It was replaced with a large set of steel doors, enchanted with protective sigils by Brown magesmiths on the directive of their client, Stryg.

The gate and the enchanted walls surrounding the temple were meant to stop any more thieves and lowlifes that prowled the Commoner streets at night. It wasn’t meant to stop whatever was banging on the door now.

The screeching noise was almost deafening.

Elm walked over to Karen, leaning on his ceremonial staff. “Who are they? What’s out there…?” he asked, with a rare trace of fear in his voice.

Karen glanced at the staff in the head priest’s hand. It was more of a lightweight rod than anything. Perfect for teaching dogma and carrying out religious practices, but it could hardly be called a weapon. “Whoever or whatever it is, you should stay behind me.”

“Right… Right, you are,” he nodded sheepishly.

With a loud crack, the iron hinges on the gate ripped off the cinder blocks, and the steel doors swung open, slamming into the wall with a bang.

A stone golem stepped out of the shadows and lumbered into the courtyard, its feet sinking slightly into the wet mud pathway. Karen drew her bow and fired. The arrow flew true and sliced through the rain. Steel arrowhead met stone flesh and the arrow shaft broke on impact, falling harmlessly on the ground.

The golem turned to the goblin woman in the doorway and it quickened its pace. Karen drew another arrow, ignoring the fearful cries from the children behind her. Though she couldn’t help but hear the whispering prayers of the head priest next to her, “Bellum, O goddess of war, bless your servant’s arrow, and let it smite down this abomination.”

Karen preferred a blessing from her people’s patron deity, but war was Bellum’s realm, and she hoped the Guardian of the Realm was listening, if only once. She raised her bow, narrowed her eyes, and stared through the heavy rain, at the small green gem embedded in the golem’s chest.

“Strike true,” she whispered with a plea and released the bowstring.

The arrow shot out in a whir and hit the gem. The sharp arrowhead glanced off the gem’s hard surface and flew off into the grass, leaving only a minor scratch on the gemstone.

“Gods dammit!” Elm cursed under his breath.

Karen would have stared in mirthful, yet scandalous shock at his outburst at any other time, but she found herself scrambling to notch another arrow as the golem rushed at her.

“Oi! Stone demon! Face someone your own size!” yelled a familiar brazen voice. 

At the broken gateway, standing proud in the pouring rain, was Rhian, smiling without fear. The golem slowly turned around, looked at the centaur, and tilted its head as if questioning her appearance. 

Rhian raised her Sylvan spear in front of her face with a solemn expression. “Who am I, you ask? I am Rhiannon, Right Hand of the Ebon Prince, Defender of the Dusk Valley, and the greatest damn centaur of the century! Face me and die!”

The golem stared at her in silence, clearly unable to understand her words. It raised its arms and charged at her.

Rhian pulled her spear back and hurled it with all her might. “Hiyaaah!” 

The spear pierced the gem and the stone flesh underneath it. The golem stumbled to a halt and fell over with a heavy thud. Rhian trotted over and placed her hoof atop its broken body, “I am the Spear of the Ebon Tribe and I will not be broken.”

She grabbed her spear from the golem’s chest and yanked it out in one smooth motion. Rhian turned to Karen and spoke in a regal voice, “Are all of you alright—?” She did a double take and stared at the weapon in her hand. The enchanted spearhead had broken off and was lying rooted in the golem’s gem. “Oh, shit! Stryg is gonna kill me!”

“I told you not to do the whole ‘cool entrance’ thing,” Feli chastised.

Only then, did Karen notice the purple-haired woman sitting on Rhian’s saddle. 

“But— but, it was awesome,” Rhian mumbled tearfully as she stared at her broken spear.

“For a moment there you looked really cool,” said Karen in a wry voice.

“I know right!” Rhian’s eyes lit up.

“Thank the gods you’ve arrived!” Elm rushed over and bowed in a flourish. He looked up and glanced around, “Where is the rest of your army?”

Rhian crossed her arms. “Army? I am the army.”

“What? Just you two?” Elm asked in disbelief.

Rhian shrugged. “We’re a small tribe.”

“But only two people?”

“We’re a very small tribe?” Rhian corrected.

“What? Feli isn’t even a fighter! No offense, I’ve seen you break up your fair share of bar fights, but this is hardly a bar fight,” Elm added hastily.

“There are no men to spare. The soldiers are all fighting as we speak,” Feli explained.

“Surely the city guard can lend a hand to defend one of Hollow Shade’s sacred temples,” Elm said.

Feli shook her head. “Hollow Shade is under attack, not just the wall. The enemy has breached the city. Our streets are riddled with enemies. The Commoner District is on fire, literally. Rhian and I came here to take you to House Mora’s Manor for shelter.”

“Then our city has truly fallen,” Elm said hopelessly.

“Not yet, our people are still fighting. Our mages are some of the greatest in the Realm, we won’t lose,” said Feli, though there was a slight tremble to her voice. 

Karen realized that Feli was scared, like the rest of them, she was only better at hiding it. “...Is Mora Manor safe?” Karen asked.

“Pfft. Safer than this place,” Rhian said.

“Rhiannon,” Feli frowned. “The Villa District hasn’t been breached by the enemy.”

“But it might be,” Elm said anxiously.

“The manor is small compared to the manors of Great Houses, but it is well defended by Lady Mora’s guards,” Feli replied. “She and her staff are waiting for us. We must hurry before all the streets are overrun.”

Karen nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll get the children ready.”

“What? Karen, as head priest of this temple, I think we should consult this a little longer—”

“Didn’t you hear Feli? There is no time. The gate is broken. The defensive enchantments Stryg left won’t protect us any longer. We need to get the kids somewhere safe. Do you have any better ideas?”

“W-Well…” Elm stammered.

Karen turned around without another thought and headed straight back into the temple. “Everyone, we’re moving! Throw on your cloaks and prepare to move out!”

“Yes, First Mother!” some of the children answered and hurried to obey.

The others looked at each other and began to follow the others’ lead. 

Witt cradled Shirleen into his arms and carefully picked her up. All the while, Sophi refused to let go of her hand. Witt turned to Karen and nodded, his gaze conveying his utter and deep trust in her words.

Karen couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t long ago that no one save her little sister dared place such trust in her. She wouldn’t let them down. Not ever again.

~~~

A maelstrom of magic swirled over the night skies of Hollow Shade as the Queen of Titans and the ancient Dragon Lord battled above the city. Rain poured down on the dark streets, giving cover to the temple refugees. 

Rhian took the lead, with Feli giving directions. The latter had given up her spot on the saddle in favor of having Rhian carry the wounded Shirleen. Karen guarded their flank, bow in hand, eyes darting cautiously in every direction. The children walked in between them. The youngest, babies and toddlers, were carried by the older children, though even the eldest were barely 11 or 12. Witt held Sophi’s hand reassuringly. He had insisted on being given a sword, not that it would do much good, they had all seen him fight.

“Stop!” Feli called out anxiously. “Hide!”

The children looked around in a panic.

“Over there!” Witt pointed to a small alleyway.

They crammed into the small space as fast as possible. A few of the smaller children complained, but Elm and Witt were quick to cover their mouths. Moments later, a retinue of men and women wrapped in hide armor marched through the street, followed by a couple of lumbering golems.

They waited with held breaths until the valley warriors before Elm spoke up, “What was that!? I thought you said you knew a safe way back to the Villa District?”

“I do, I mean, I did,” Feli faltered. “I didn’t expect they’d move so fast. We can’t go back to the manor the way we came…”

“We can’t go back to the temple either,” Karen noted. “If one golem broke through our gates, there are sure to be more nearby.”

“So what now? We just stand here and wait for those savages to find and kill us?” Elm whispered fearfully.

Feli and Karen shared a silent worried look.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

They all looked up and saw a petite vampiress standing in front of the alleyway. Silver-blonde hair flowed down over her black cloak and drifted slowly in the wind. Scarlet eyes seemed to almost shine in the darkness. Her scarlet lips were curled in a smirk.

“Maeve!” Rhian beamed.

“Lady Mora?! What are you doing here? It’s not safe out here!” Feli said hurriedly.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Maeve said reassuringly.

“But— You came alone?” Feli glanced around. “How did you even get this far? The streets are covered with valley warriors.”

“I didn’t, not exactly,” Maeve said awkwardly.

“Feli, look, her clothes!” Karen pointed at Maeve’s cloak and her crimson dress underneath. There wasn’t a single drop of rain on them.

Feli furrowed her brow, “You aren’t here, are you…?”

Stryg had told Feli of illusion magic before. Purple mages could create intricate life-like appearances out of thin air and give them commands. Though only powerful masters could cast such spells from long distances, and even if Maeve had, how was she able to respond to their every word as if she was standing right next to them?

“My body isn’t here,” Maeve answered. “But I am.”

~~~

In the master bedroom of the Mora Manor, Maeve lay in a large bed. Maidservants stood around her anxiously. Some held buckets of cold water, others dry towels. Their mistress was stock-still, save for the rising of her chest and the occasional grimace. Her breath was quick, ragged, and quiet whimpers escaped her lips from the sheer exertion of the true red magic channeling through her.

The head maid grabbed one of the towels, dipped it in the cold water, and gently dabbed it over Maeve’s forehead and neck.

“Her temperature is rising,” the head maid noted.

“What should we do?” another asked worriedly.

“We keep serving the task we’ve been given. And we trust in our Lady as she has in us.”

“But what if something happens—”

“She has the grit of Mora and the strength of Veres flowing through her veins. If anyone can guide all those people back here safely it is her.”

“…g…” Maeve mumbled in a quiet whisper.

“What was that, my Lady?” the head maid leaned down next to her and listened closely. “We’re right here. Tell us, what is it?”

“I… see… you… Stryg…”