Fifty Five: The Shadow Self

The Kahn watched us with dark eyes, his head tilted in amusement. Beneath him, his mount advanced slowly, unhurried. I could see the sick gleam in the gold eyes. A predator that had cornered its prey.

“You must forgive my Outrider his manners,” said the Firebrand. His voice was deep but unexpectedly clear - as if common was his native tongue.

“It is.. distasteful to allow our mounts to indulge in the consumption of flesh. Once they get a taste they are easily addicted and harder to control.”

Behind him, the Outrider dipped his head and yanked the reigns of his mount causing the creature to reluctantly prance backward.

My men and I stood back to back, shields raised and weapons bristling. My pulse thudded in my ears. Any moment now, I expected death to come. But the Firebrand seemed in no hurry.

From beside him, Orks came from the shadows. Their ranks blocked any hope of escape for those who might want to try their luck fleeing around the Outriders.

There was truly no way out. The Orks jeered, many of them making vulgar or obscene gestures. Urksol seemed unmoved as he listened to his people chant and growl.

“They wish for me to make you my slave,” he said, leaning back in his saddle with a clink of armor.

“To tie you behind my mount and make you crawl in the sand like a dog.”

He made a grunting sound in his throat, half laughter and disgust.

“I won’t bow to you,” I growled. “You claim yourself a warrior and yet you sit upon your saddle in that fancy armor and watch as real men do your work. I name you coward, Firebrand.”

Hade shifted beside me, scared eyes sliding from me to the Khan.

“What are you doing?” Hissed Draxus but I ignored him.

Urksol seemed unimpressed.

“Why do dying men always spout such drivel and call it wisdom? I care for conquest, boy. Not personal glory. Pride is the bane of power.”

“Ironic,” I muttered and Kato snorted loudly enough to be heard.

The Firebrand waved an armored hand and the Orks lapsed into reluctant silence.

“Have you no response?” He asked, amused. I grit my teeth even as my eyes swept the rooftops, looking for any sign of movement.

I had to keep him talking.

“You speak of the pitfalls of pride and yet your warriors call you Firebrand? You are a brute playing king and your power is false. Look around you right now and tell me there is an Ork among your host that you trust with your life.”

Urksol didn’t bother to look. I watched the dark eyes through the slits of his helmet narrow minutely in thought. A flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye and I forced myself not to look.

There was someone on the rooftops.

“And what of your leaders?” He asked, at last, gesturing grandly around him.

“Your Governor cowers inside his walls like a frightened rabbit, terrified of the fate that awaits him. How easily he spends the lives of his loyal men and how willingly you march to your deaths.”

He sighed, shifting forward. I was too slow to react, too slow to call out as the firebrand raised his hand palm outward and pointed it at the roof. The archers that had been gathered there had no warning. Sᴇaʀᴄh the NøvᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

There was a sound like a snake's hiss and the the world went Orange. Flame bloomed from his palm fountaining towards the archers who were now huddled on the roof preparing to launch their ambush. The flame engulfed them and men screamed as the armor melted.

The air was filled with acrid smoke that made my eyes water. Two charred corpses slumped forward, tumbling off the roof and into the street below. The sight made my stomach roil. The soldier's helmet had been fused to his skull. His face was melted and charred, his eyes had burst in the heat.

His mouth was open, twisted in a rictus of agony. The Firebrand lowered his hand even as men screamed and flailed. One fiery figure threw himself from the rooftop in an attempt to escape his fate, only to break his legs with a grisly crunch.

“Throne above,” muttered Hade. I could see the skin around his eyes pale. Sweat slicked my own palms, as much from the heat as with a newfound sense of dread.

The red Skin around Urksol’s eyes crinkled in calm amusement. Did he enjoy this? Or was it all a show for the Host that followed him?

I didn’t know, and right now I didn’t care.

“Cover me,” I whispered to Draxus. The soldier shifted slightly beside me, dark brows drawing together.

“Will, listen to me. She said it was a last resort. We don’t know-“

“I know,” I said, trying to assuage his fears. “But what choice do we have?” Draxus's eyes darted around at the corpses on the ground and to the Host that now barred our path. The still smoldering flames cast the ominous shadows of the horned beasts that would be our end.

He clenched his jaw so hard I thought his teeth might crack. Then he nodded.

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“Do it,” he said.

The Firebrand sighed, head tilted back towards the heavens as he breathed in the smell of burnt flesh.

“Oh, how you rail against your fates, toy soldiers.” He said mockingly.

“Why don’t you understand how futile it all is? Your Governor has what we want. We’ve come to claim it. You could have simply handed it over and none of this,” he gestured to the corpses now smoking on the ground. To the half-charred man with broken legs now crawling across the stone on his elbows.

“Need have happened. Humanity always seems to relish the hard way. Truly, it is a shame.”

Urksol leaned his great horned head downwards and barked an order. Then he raised his voice for us to hear.

“Kill them, and take the Knight prisoner. I will make him crawl behind my Drake. And when the heat of the plains finally defeats him and he begs on his knees for water, I will give him the water of my loins.”

Urksol slapped at his codpiece and the Orks howled in bloodthirsty amusement. Tusks and teeth gleamed in the knight as they readied themselves. Our death had come. I swallowed my fear and gripped Draxus by the shoulder as I ducked behind the shield wall.

“Give me a minute,” I said. “I only need one.”

Draxus grunted and began shouting orders. His own sword was held ready, still crusted with the dried blood of his foes. I would need to trust my men now more than ever.

“See how he runs!” Shouted Urksol into the night. Shouldered through the press of men, trying to make room.

It was tight, but somehow I found the room to take a knee. I fumbled with the latch of my visor even as I heard the sounds of howling Orks surging towards us. Finally, the latch came free and I lifted my visor, exposing my face to the Smokey air.

It smelled of burned meat and smoke. I knelt in the middle of my men, surrounded by all sides by a sea of enemies. From my inventory, I grabbed the small blue bottle in my gauntlet. The ranks of men around me surged and for one heart-stopping moment I almost lost my grip on the bottle.

The liquid inside the vial was electric blue.



Item: consumable - Mana stimulant

SYSTEM WARNING: approaching mana fatigue. Consuming Mana stimulant may cause injury or heart failure. Chance of lethality: 67%

Gritting my teeth I swiped the system warning from my HUD and uncorked the bottle.

My men shouted all around me. Blood sprayed, as blades met flesh. There was no other option.

“I’m sorry Joanna,” I said as I threw back my head and tilted the vial contents down my throat. The taste was at once acidic and sickly sweet. It raced down my throat and into my stomach, burning like spirits all the way down. The sounds of battle faded away.

I was aware of each breath in and out of my chest. Aware of the sound of my own blood as it moved through my body. Then the burning began. It started at my core and spread through my veins like wildfire.

My chest spasmed, muscles pulling taught as I opened my mouth to scream. No sound came out. I began to tremble as my limbs grew cold. I could feel the stimulant burning its way through my veins, a pain like any other.

I was on my knees now, head pressed against the cobblestones as I willed the pain to end. Was I dying? Dear god was I dying?

My heart became sluggish in my chest and then stopped. I coughed violently, speckles of blood littering the stone before me. It was all over and I was a fucking fool.

Absurdly I thought of Joanna as my vision grew dark around the edges.

Her grip on my wrist as she met my gaze. The hesitance on her face when she pressed the vial into my palm.

“Use it only if you must,” she’d said. “Will, you promise me. You must understand the cost.”

Another cough wracked my body, and my shoulders slumped as my head grew light. I fell unwilling into darkness.

There was nothing but void. There was no sound, no smell. Only darkness.

As I drifted downwards I wondered what it all meant. Was this truly all I had? Would I die on my knees before a hated enemy? The thought filled me with sadness.. and.. inevitably.. with fury.

I blinked.

I knelt atop a pool of water so dark that I could see nothing in its black depths. The water was cold, lapping at my trousers, and before me, I saw my own reflection.

It was at once me, and not me. A man with short dark hair and hard eyes. My jaw was firm and my brows thick. Even as I stared that image shifted. Eyes are sometimes black, sometimes gold.

“Who are you?” I asked the reflection. My words echoed in the darkness, mocking me as they rebounded back.

The figure in the reflection smiled. Goosebumps erupted down my arms. I tried to jerk away, to move, but I was held in place by some invisible force.

There was something in the water. Glowing golden threads that spread out from my reflection like spiderwebs in the dark water. Threads of fate.

The words of the God of the Autumn Winds rang in my mind.

“You and I have yet to meet, but we will meet in the future. And when we do, you will ask me to tell you two things.”

In the future… in..

“Shit,” I said as I stared around me. My reflection stared back, unperturbed.

“Damn you,” I growled. “Answer me. Who are you? What are you?”

But my time was up. I could sense the lightness in my body as I began to rise back out of the darkness. The strange paralysis was gone, as was the sense of cold numbness. I could feel it again. Feel the hard stone on my knees, feel the burning in my veins.

I felt the kick in my chest as my heart restarted and went into overdrive.

I slammed back into myself with the force of a hurricane. My heart cantered in my chest, pumping with it blood and pure adrenaline.

“Will!” Came the distant shout. Kato was kneeling beside me. There was true fear in his eyes.

“I thought we lost you.”

I blinked, shaking my head.

“How long was I out?” I shouted over the sounds of battle. Kato frowned.

“Seconds,” he said. “Why? What did-“

“Later.”

I rose to my feet, feeling the surge of strength coursing through my veins.

Iron Blooded activated

Bastion activated

My soldiers were pressed from all sides. They fought valiantly, standing on their own in a sea of enemies. I could see the desperation, and taste the bitterness of defeat as another soldier fell to the mad Host.

My sword was in my hand before I registered drawing it. I stepped forward, shoving through the press of armored bodies to take my place at the front.

Orders spilled from my lips. I told my men to hold firm. I told them that I stood with them and that I wouldn’t let us fail. Not now, and not ever.

I hacked at anything before me, my blade glowing red with the increased damage. Enemies were indistinguishable to my eyes. My heart thumped in my ears, Orks died to my blade, and I knew nothing else but the song of war.

And then, there was nothing left to kill. Hade slumped on his spear beside me, chest heaving wildly as he struggled for breath.

The men turned, eyes still wide and terrified. Ork bodies lay torn and mangled before us. We had survived the first wave. My triumph died the second I heard his laugh.

Urksol the firebrand titled back his horned head and bellowed into the air. The sound was one of pure mirth as he regarded us with cold eyes.

“Very good,” he said, clapping his gauntlets together. The sound echoed off the walls, mocking and hollow.

“Another pointless display, but impressive nonetheless.”



He tugged on the reigns of his restless Sand Drake and it shifted enough to allow him a clearer view.

“Tell you what,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I will give you something you do not deserve. A mercy, or a chance at it. But you Ser Knight,” and he pointed at me. “Must choose this fate. Either I slaughter your men to get at you, or I can end you all with the mercy of a fiery death. It will be glorious, no?”

And he bellowed a laugh again. Was he mad? All around the remaining Orks shared their leader's mirth. So many had fallen to our blades, and yet many more had taken their places.

It felt hopeless, but I knew better than to waste my time with despair.

“Fuck your choice,” I said and spat on the ground between us.