Chapter 92: The Heart of Dusk

Marek waded through the swarm of enemies, flourishing his spear in swift strokes. Nokuti covered his back, entangling enemies in shadow tendrils before slicing them in two with her axe. The enemy warriors began to panic as Crow and the Cairn Tribe’s army flanked their rear.

The Bronze Eagle’s chief attempted rallying his men and women, but it was too late. The army closing in on them, coupled with the storm of magic the twin archmagi unleashed, broke their courage. The enemy lines fell into disarray as they tried to escape death. The ensuing chaos opened a path for Marek to draw closer to their leader.

The chief’s eyes met Marek’s, “You sly bastard!”

He thrust his hand forward and showered Marek with a stream of fire. Marek closed his eyes and covered his face with his arms. He groaned as the yellow light of his scales began to crack under the intense heat.

Nokuti flung her axe low at the chief’s legs. The chief cursed as he jumped out of the way, forcefully releasing his flame spell. Nokuti yelled a war cry as she charged at him, her yellow scales flaring brightly. He shot another stream of fire at her, but Nokuti did not slow. His eyes widened as she rammed into him, knocking him to the ground.

Within an instant she was on top of him and pummeling his face with her magically hardened fists. The chief’s men rushed in to save him. Marek jumped in between, blasting the warriors away with his own stream of flames.

Nokuti stood up and dragged the chief by his top knot. His face was bloodied to a pulp, his nose smashed beyond repair. Bits of flesh hung from his cheeks, bone was protruding from his forehead. Most of his teeth had either been punched out or cracked.

Nokuti threw him at the feet of Marek.

“My lord,” she made a quick bow, grabbed her axe and went to keep the rest of the warriors at bay.

“I didn’t want this to happen, believe me,” Marek looked down at the battered chief. “You can still surrender. Your men respect you. They will follow your command.”

“I pray Caligo curses my tribe and soul before letting a treacherous scoundrel like you lead the Bronze Eagles. We’ll fight you to the last woman and child,” the chief spat.

Marek beat his own chest, “I am not your enemy. Don’t you understand?” He pointed off to the horizon, “The true enemy lies behind the wall of shades! Neither our sister tribes nor us will ever know true peace as long as the lords and ladies of Hollow Shade rule Dusk Valley.”

“Don’t you dare talk about the tribes. You broke tradition and attacked us in the middle of the night. You have no honor. You spit on all our ancestral ways,” the chief coughed up blood.

“Hollow Shade hunts us like dogs and all you can think of is tradition! Open your eyes, old man. The Valley people will not survive if we continue squabbling amongst each other. Join me and help free our people once and for all,” Marek held out his hand.

“I would rather die a dog’s death than ride side-by-side with a dire imbecile who breaks away from all we hold dear,” the chief smacked his hand away.

Nokuti spun around and sliced the chief’s head off.

“What was that for!?” Marek yelled.

“Negotiations have failed. We must end this before there is nothing left to save of their tribe,” she said with a steely voice.

“Damn it,” Marek sighed.

He grabbed the chief’s head and held it up high, his dire size making it easy for all to see. “The battle is over!”

The chief’s face had been beaten past the point of recognition, but the golden band wrapped around his top knot was clear to all. Many of the enemy warriors cried out in shock at the sight of the golden band, the symbol of tribe chieftain. They rushed in to avenge their leader.

“Do not die here in vain!” Marek bellowed.

As if to reiterate the point, a titanic wave of wind surged forth from archmage Dawn, practically knocking everyone in a hundred feet, to the ground. Marek was suddenly very glad he was wrapped in a durability spell, increasing his weight, otherwise he would be flat on his ass like the rest.

“Your chief is dead and I believe you do not wish to join him,” Marek shouted.

“Fuck you!” A Bronze Eagle warrior shot to his feet and charged him.

An ice javelin impaled the warrior’s chest. The man sucked in a short breath as he dropped to his knees. A powerful beam of light seared his face. Grim narrowed his eyes at Kyriil.

“What? Now he’s definitely dead,” the elf shrugged.

“Idiot,” Nokuti muttered.

Lysaila giggled off in the distance amidst a pile of bodies.

Dawn and Vaughn raised their hands, magic swirling around them. The threat of ignoring Marek’s words was not just real, but quite obvious.

Marek cleared his throat, “I do not ask for you to end this fighting lightly. Nor do I ask for you to forget the lives lost tonight.”

Marek dropped the chief’s head, “Instead I ask you to remember the deaths within your tribe throughout the years. Your brothers, sisters, parents, spouses, and children! Those are the ones we have all lost! And it was not because of tribal battles, but because of Hollow Shade! That cursed city has taken everything from us, our land, our homes... our people.”

Marek held up a clenched fist, “Still, we survive! For we are strong. We are of the Valley and we have been here since the dawn of the Dusk.”

Marek looked all around him. The eyes of the Bronze Eagle tribe were on him, pride and pain mixed within their faces of mistrust.

“Yet, even with the Ebon Lords gone, the monsters of the walls still exist. They still come out in droves into our Valley and kill our loved ones. Or worse, they enslave them! And then they hide behind the safety of their walls, while we face the deadly winters, stripped of all we have.”

“Tribal battles may not be responsible for the loss of our people, but they will be the end of our people. For each year that passes the City of Shades grows stronger while the Valley people grow weaker. Soon, there will be nothing left to remember us. We will be nothing but a memory blown away by the winter storms.”

“When did we stop being the Keepers of the Dawn and become animals fighting for scraps that the city dwellers left? Why have we become so content with our fate? Tradition? Tradition has only held us back. The pacts of tribes have grown old and obsolete. Your chief believed in those traditions. But, if we honor the customs of our ancestors like he did, we will only continue fighting amongst each other. It will be the end of us all.”

Marek struck his spear into the ground, “I say no more! I say we are more than tradition. I say that the Valley people have not forgotten who we truly are! We are mighty, together we are the Heart of Dusk. And we will not quietly die in our home while the snow sets on our graves.”

The sun began to rise on the horizon. Marek stood tall, his towering height an imposing figure to all. The light of dawn struck him, the morning light bathed his skin gold, his blonde hair gleamed white in the wind. The green hills of the Valley shined behind him. It was as if a hero of old had appeared before them, a last hope to their dying will.

“I do not ask your leaders nor your ancestors. I call you, each and every single one of you, to fight. Not for scraps, not for tradition, and certainly not for a chieftain. I call you to fight for our people, to take back the right to live in our own home.”

“Because when we stand together, the world will not see squabbling tribes. They will see the Keepers of the Dawn, the Heart of Dusk, the people of the Valley!”

Marek grabbed his spear and held it high, “So, stand! Stand with me now, my brothers and sisters! Stand and let us remind the City of Shades that we are still here and we will not be forgotten!”

Nokuti felt only pride at Marek’s words. She watched as one after another begin to stand. They stood slowly at first, chanting quietly.

But as their chants grew louder, they stood quicker, until a surge passed through the crowds, and they were all on their feet yelling, “Stand! Stand! Stand!”

“Incredible isn’t it?” Crow walked up next to Nokuti.

“Is this what you saw in Marek when you first met? Is this why you chose to follow him?” She whispered.

“Something like that. Of course, it helps when you have an army and two arch magi at your back when convincing a crowd. However, I do believe Marek is beginning to finally become the leader all the Valley people need.”

“That’s good, it’ll help our cause,” she nodded to herself.

“Yes, word will spread among the tribes, his legend is only beginning to grow. Soon, the whole Realm will have their eyes on Marek.”

“And I’ll be there to protect him no matter who blocks his path,” she swore.

Crow glanced at her worried face, “Why do you follow him?”

“I have my reasons,” she stared at Marek’s back.

“Heh, now you’re getting the hang of it,” Crow chuckled.

~~~

Marek and Nokuti stood in their war tent, discussing their next plans. A wooden table sat in the middle of the tent, a map pinned on top. Markings were etched all across the map of the Valley. They had been talking for hours, the sun was going to set soon. All she wanted was to go get a few drinks, blood or alcohol, she didn’t care which.

She pointed at Hollow Shade on the map, “My Lord, I know last night’s battle was a success and that the Bronze Eagle’s have joined our cause and with the way things are going, I could see many other tribes joining us. But, even with all the people of the Valley united, I don’t see how we could ever hope to breach the walls of Hollow Shade. Their defenses are strong and come night, our people would be massacred by the shades.”

“I know that, but I have a plan,” Marek tapped the map.

“Which is?”

“Well, technically our resident archivist has the plan.”

“Crow? What’s the plan then?”

“He’s still working on it,” he smiled wryly.

“Oh gods,” she rolled her eyes.

“Crow knows what he’s doing. He just needs a little more time. Trust me. He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s always pulled through.” Marek began putting away the bottles of ink and pins, “Let’s call it a night. We’ve had a long day, you should get some rest.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nokuti yawned. “But, first, I’m gonna get a drink.”

“I’ll see you later tonight?” Marek asked hopefully.

She glanced at the tent entrance and made sure no one was watching. “Take a guess,” she pulled him down by the shirt, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Marek licked his lips with a smile as she sauntered outside.

Nokuti only had to wander a few tents away to find her elite squad members sitting around a fire pit, with none other than a crate full of booze.

“Did you save some for me?” Nokuti asked.

“We didn’t plan to, but luckily we’ve only just started,” Kyriil laughed with flushed cheeks.

“We only finished our duties a little while ago, however Kyriil already started drinking this morning,” Grim noted.

“Why am I not surprised?” Nokuti took a seat on the grass next to them.

“Drink up darling, you deserve it,” Lysaila handed her an unopened bottle.

“Thanks,” Nokuti cracked the bottle open and took a long swig.

“As I was saying, you should have seen the way Kyriil jumped into the fray. He was like some kind of idiot white knight. It was hilarious, even more so when he got riddled with arrows,” Lysaila laughed.

“Oh come on, everyone was getting shot at. It’s not my fault my centaur couldn’t dodge. Gods, I wish I just had a regular horse. It’s weird having a steed talk back to you,” Kyriil groaned.

“Beastkin shouldn’t be ridden in the first place,” Lysaila stretched.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still this coherent, Kyriil,” Nokuti noticed the two empty bottles next to the elf.

“Maybe with his words. He says it is thanks to his healing magic, but between you and me I do not think he has ever been too coherent,” Grim whispered.

Nokuti laughed.

Lysaila grabbed another fresh bottle from the crate and handed it towards the twins, “No one deserves this more than our two magical geniuses.”

“Here, here!” Nokuti held up her bottle. Grim and Kyriil cheered.

“No,” Vaughn slightly shook his head.

“Thanks,” Dawn gently pushed the bottle aside.

Lysiala’s smile cracked for a brief moment before she smoothed it away, “If either of you change your mind there’s more wine in the crate.”

The twins nodded silently. Dawn laid her head on her brother’s shoulder and closed her eyes to rest. Vaughn simply stared into the fire. Lysaila glanced around at the looks on everyone else’s faces. They all thought the twins were a bit strange, but no one dared voice their opinion against the archmagi.

“Crow, what could you possibly be doing that’s more important than sharing a bottle of spirits with your companions?” Lysaila held up a bottle.

Crow sat on the other side of fire, reading an old book. At least she thought he was reading, it was hard to tell with the skull mask covering his head.

He glanced up for a moment, “I’m looking for the answer.”

“That sounds oddly suspicious,” Lysaila slithered behind him, looked over his head and at the book. “Huh, interesting, I still can’t read,” she laughed.

“Oh, come on, Crow. Why don’t you just take off that creepy mask and have a drink with us,” Kyriil dangled a bottle in front of him.

“You all know Crow drinks alone. He doesn’t wish to show us his face. Nor does he seem to wish to share his readings. So, just let it go you two,” Grim admonished.

“That’s right, let the old man keep his secrets,” Nokuti agreed.

“I’m not old,” Crow grumbled.

“Besides, I don’t think any of us care to read about erotic literature,” Nokuti added.

Kyriil and Lysaila burst into laughter.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Crow sighed.

“Relax, we’re just having a little fun,” Nokuti smiled.

“And while you all drink and be merry, I am looking for the answer to our little wall problem,” Crow turned a page of his book.

“How is that going?” Nokuti leaned in with interest.

“More difficult than finding the chrome gate.”

“That bad, huh?” Nokuti winced.

“Yes, but I seem to be making some progress, albeit slowly.”

“And once you find this fabled answer, then what?” Lysaila asked.

“Then we will finally have a weapon capable of destroying the City of Shades.”