Chapter 844: The Trail of Doom

Chapter 844: The Trail of Doom

Months.

Months spent priming its oldest inner pathways.

Months spent in contemplation.

Months spent crafting not one, but three Skyfire Swarms.

...and all three had been defeated in mere minutes.

“Impossible. Impossible. Impossible,” the Ravener whispered.

Its spawn looked up at their master, confused.

“Go. Bring me a petrifier. One closest to that battle,” the Ravener said. “We must know what happened.”

The construct fell silent, floating over the water in its chamber, considering what had occurred. It knew only that the three Skyfire Swarms it had sent after the Heroes were dead.

Dead in minutes.

It could not be: Skyfire Swarms were creatures of the old times. Times when the creator wished for all of Thameland’s people to be wiped from the world. The swarms were not invincible. They were not unstoppable.

But they also were not so weak as to be destroyed—by even the Heroes at their mightiest—within minutes. It could not be.

“Impossible...” it whispered again.

For a time, it waited in silence, analysing its memories of past battles. Battles from before the General was replaced by the Fool. In silence, it waited among its Ravener-spawn...until, at last, a petrifier crawled from a tunnel and into its lair.

“Speak,” it commanded.

The petrifier threw itself on the shore, grovelling before its master. “Master,” it answered. “The General and Usurper, and their companions defeated our Swarms.”

“How?” the Ravener asked.

And the petrifier explained what had happened. From the beginning to its quick and deadly end, the battle between the Heroes, their companions and the Skyfire Swarms, was laid bare. The creature had been too far to intervene, but close enough to see with its powerful vision.

Close enough to witness the Skyfire Swarms’ crushing failure.

“That will be all,” the Ravener said abruptly. “Wait there for my order.”

The construct fell silent once more, finishing the examination of its own memories.

There were only a few cycles where a General had existed in Thameland...and in none could the Ravener find any memory of three Skyfire Swarms facing defeat at the hands of the Heroes, and not so many with such ease.

“What was the difference?” it wondered. “Why has this impossibility occurred?”

It examined its memories one final time, playing out battles that the five Heroes had fought against its mighty Ravener-spawn. It compared those memories to the petrifiers’ recounting, and came to grim conclusions. Very grim conclusions.

For one, it could not find any group of Heroes in its memories that compared to the sheer power wielded by this generation and their allies.

“They are the strongest of any cycle,” it whispered. “And they are not alone.”

This generation’s Heroes are aided by forces beyond Thameland’s shores.

“Previous generations have only battled alongside those of the creator’s kingdom. Thameish armies and some few mercenaries, in the past. Now, there are outsiders to contend with. Powerful outsiders. This is beyond my calculations...and they are here because of him.”

The General.

This General.

So many changes and irregularities in this cycle—the outsiders, the usurpers, the discovery of Uldar’s death, the destruction of the hidden church—could all be linked back to that one individual. No General or Fool in all of Thameland’s history had ever caused this many disruptions in Uldar’s great plan.

None until now.

“I underestimated them,” it whispered, the stirring growing within its core. “They must be destroyed quickly. At once! If they grow any stronger...”

It paused, turning its attention to the petrifier.

“Go. Speak to our ally. Things must change,” the Ravener said. “We must—”

“Master!” a voice called from one of the cavern’s numerous entrances.

Every Ravener-spawn turned toward the voice.

There stood a Hunter, wheezing from exertion. It looked like it had sprinted many miles.

“Master! The enemy is tracking the Skyfire Swarms! They are following their trail!”

Silence fell.

“Be calm!” the Ravener commanded. “Guards will be doubled in our lair. But they will not find us. They cannot. And soon. Soon they will have too much to occupy them to try to seek us out.”

###

‘Not again,’ he thought as they landed in the wasteland.

“Spread out,” he said. “There’s got to be something here. There has to be.”

“There has to be,” Theresa echoed.

“Let us hope.” Baelin conjured a horde of Wizard’s Eyes with a wave of his hand.

Together, the group and the ancient archwizard’s invisible eyes spread out over the land, examining every nook and cranny of the burnt field. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to many.

Every inch of the area was scanned for even a single sign of the Ravener or the origins of the fiery clouds.

Slivers of grass now lay blackened in the desolate field, among cinders, and ash that were once a copse of trees. Heaps of embers hissed, dying atop bits of shattered bone that Brutus sniffed with interest. None were spared from the fire.

But still...

“Nothing?” Drestra suddenly roared. “Nothing?” Flames erupted from her draconic maw. “It can’t be! Not again!”

Alex was turning over a charred log—he could have sworn he’d examined the same one ten times already—he was shaking with anger. “No way. It had to come from here. Baelin, do you see anything?”

The chancellor was floating in the centre of the wasteland, his eyes distant. “None of my Wizard’s Eyes have detected a single sign of any entrance underground, save for a few small burnt burrows.”

Alex turned to one of the engeli. “What of you?” He asked in their celestial tongue. “Do you sense any divinity?”

“None save for the divine powers of your allies, archwizard.” The engeli bowed deeply.

“Shit!” Alex looked down at the muddy earth at his feet. He switched to a tongue of earth elementals. “Have you seen anything?”

There was a rumble beneath his feet.

An elder earth elemental emerged.

It groaned in the language of rock and soil.

“Still nothing?” Alex cried. “No tunnels, no dungeon...nothing?”

“My magics could not find anything either.” Prince Khalik said grimly. He looked up. “Perhaps the fire clouds came from the sky? It is possible that they emerged from somewhere far from here, soared high into the sky, then came down at this point. All to throw us off their trail.”

“Wouldn’a b’ th’firs’ time bloody Ravener-spawn led us on a bloody bad chase,” Cedric’s tone was dark. He floated in the air above the scorched bones of a large antlered creature. His knuckles were white on his weapon. “I’s thinkin’ we mighta been had again.”

“No, I refuse to accept that!” Drestra snarled, her claws digging trenches in the earth. “It seemed like we were so close! So close!”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Baelin frowned, exuding the patience of the ages. “Though, perhaps we are missing something. We can widen our search. I humbly suggest that we spread out, and take a look in a wider area while continuing to search here. A Proper Wizard avoids growing too narrow in their vision.”

“True.” Alex turned to the others. “Let’s spread out. I want us fanning out in every direction, that’ll give us a better chance of seeing where they came from. Theresa, maybe you and Brutus can take a group south. Drestra, you can go north. Thundar, you take a group to the east. Maybe someone can pick up a scent.”

“There’s not much to smell, except ash.” Theresa called darkly, holding up a burnt bone in one hand. “I think splitting up is a good idea. Who’s in each group? Come here, Brutus.”

The cerberus had his head buried in a beast’s blackened rib cage.

“You can choose your own groups. Maybe three or four per group.” Alex looked around. “The rest of us will stay here. I’m sure we missed something. I know it.”

“Brutus, drop that, we have to go.” Theresa pulled at something in the cerberus’ left mouth. “Come on, you don’t know what that is.”

“It could be something helpful.” Khalik floated toward Theresa. Najyah perched on his shoulder, soaked from the rain. “Brutus is clever, perhaps he found something.”

“It’s just a burnt piece of gunk!” The huntress finally wrenched it from the hound’s mouth. “Maybe an organ or something.”

“Ravener-spawn?” Alex asked, walking toward her.

The others turned in Theresa’s direction.

She sniffed the object. “No, it smells burnt, but underneath, it smells earthy, like a mushroom.”

“Oh,” Alex sighed. “Nevermind then, let’s—”

“Wait!” Drestra shifted to her human form, teleporting beside Theresa, taking the mushroom from the huntress’ hands.

“What is it?” Alex teleported beside the Sage. He examined the mushroom as Drestra held it, she was beginning to tremble as she sniffed it. “By the spirits...”

The others came closer.

“You alright?” Thundar asked her.

The Sage looked around at everyone. “Do you know what this is? It’s not just a regular mushroom. Mushrooms like these are almost always found in circles... as part of a fae gate.”

Silence claimed the group.

“I...” she whispered. “I think I know where the Ravener is...” Her eyes were growing wider. “By the spirits...by the Traveller...we were stupid. So very stupid.”

It was as though a key had turned in a lock.

“Oh by the Traveller.” Alex could barely breathe. “The Ravener’s in the fae wild, isn’t it?”