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“Is it done? Is he dead?”

Smiling as he nodded his head in reply, Drakas said, “It is finished. Time we went home.”

Her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, she smiled, her face haggard with relief. “Well then, what are you waiting for you, great big hairy goat, help me up.”

His nostrils flared in amusement, he held her up with the aid of Kirgin. The small wiry goblin, who still grinned from ear to ear, mumbling something about ‘how this couldn’t be real. That she should be dead.’ Whereas all Drakas could feel was joy that she still alive.

Holding each other as though afraid of losing one another again, they crossed the now dormant dining room hall, their heads lifted high, and exited the governor's palace. Drakas’ thoughts as usual going to the great journey that awaited him, when he was confronted by the most unbelievable sight. The hosts of darkness gathered all around them, filling the streets and alleyways. Giants, ogrekans, orcs, and goblins, and a few other of the darker races. All of them stood there staring at Drakas as though expecting an answer from him.

Heart pounding inside of his chest as he wondered what was going on? He watched as Yorin, one of his demon blades, pushed his way through the crowds, the orc’s head tilted low in a bow. “My lord, many of us have seen and heard your battle with Barkan in the sky, and know of your great victory over him. We wished to know what your plans are for us. Do we still follow the will of Tazrael?”

Wriggling and curling at the back of his mind, Drakas could feel the demon's thoughts immediately come alive, it’s voice like an inescapable part of him. “I can free these people from the darkness inside their hearts, champion, but you will lose many warriors. Warriors, you will need for the trials ahead of you. You must decide now which it is you desire most.”

Not needing a single moment to think on, he replied softly, “Free them.” And felt his veins suddenly pulse with a burning sensation. Could see every single beating heart that lit up inside of his warriors, before the darkness was ripped free from their bodies. The throngs of warriors that had lived in shadow their whole lives, uttered loud gasps of amazement as they touched their chests in disbelief. Cheers and roars of excitement, rippling up and down as tears spilled down roughened cheeks.

Dumbfounded, Shureen turned to look at him in open-mouthed awe, and whispered, “What did you do?”

Smiling again, his heart aching with joy, Drakas laid a hand upon her shoulder, and replied, “I freed them from the darkness. They are no longer slaves. They are free. You are free!”

He cried the last words to the sea of warriors, who roared like thunder, raised their fists to the sky, and screamed, “Drakas! Drakas! Drakas! Drakas!”

...Kaldrakas his slave name was no more, Drakas was free…

~*~

From that moment till now, Drakas breathed the fresh air of freedom, a renewed sense of wonder, a part of him unable to believe that Barkan was really dead. That after all this time. After so many sleepless nights of planning for this moment. He was finally free. Free to do what he wanted. To be who he wanted. He was no longer a monster forced to murder at the whims of his masters, but a free ogrekan who could return home to his people. Free to finally find his beloved who still waited for him, out there, somewhere.

His gaze longingly on the great city walls of Raltier, he felt relief, and excitement bubble up inside of his chest, and breathed the words. “I’m finally going home.” But even saying the words out loud did not feel real to him. All he could feel was a dull ache as tears began to fill his eyes. It had been so long since he had felt hope like this…

Shureen, her lips curled into a warm smile as though understanding his thoughts, wiped a hand across his cheek, and embraced him in her arms. Her whispered words echoing in his mind, "You did it, Drakas. We're all finally going home.”

Hugging her in a ferocious hug, he couldn’t deny feeling elation at hearing her say it, and felt her laugh against his chest as she pushed him back. “Come on, we should celebrate.” But as much as Drakas desired to relish this moment, he knew trouble was coming for them all. They were still deep within enemy lands that did not want them here.

His head turned to watch as the casks of beer were brought out of taverns, he thought to put an end to this premature celebration, but as raucous voices lifted up in songs. Songs he had thought long forgotten, he knew then that he could not take this moment away from them. The warriors that danced in the streets, had been slaves most of their lives, taken away from their homes as children, and forced to endure endless years of agony.

But now as they bawled tunes whispered over their cradles, they remembered who they were. Remembered a place called home. They remembered what it was like to be free.

It was that dawning realization that struck Drakas truer than any blade, and made him want to weep again, weep for the many years he had lost without his dear Chosen, when out from the corner of his eye, he saw Kirgin. His cowl drawn deeper over his head, peer up at Drakas with worried golden eyes. The goblin’s lean face pinched with fear.

"What is it?"

Pointing wordlessly to the four suns that peaked their heads out over the horizon, Drakas followed the goblin's fingertip to the huge brown stone monoliths that dotted the land, when a great army swept into view, their booted feet kicking up a dust cloud behind them. Heavy silver plate armor gleaming in the suns, they came like a tidal wave of polished steel, greatswords clasped upright, horned helmets, painted silver and gold.

In that terrifying moment as he saw what was about to rain down upon them, Drakas knew then what fear was, and bellowed, "get to the walls!" And like a beast being thrown into a river, their elation was gone.

All eyes turned to watch the glittering mass of armoured minotaurs that marched towards them, Drakas knew he had only a moment to get his warriors under control, before he barked out, “You each know what you must do! Commanders form them up! Demon Blades ready yourselves at the gates! Move! All of you! Move!” And while it wasn’t much of a speech, it had the desired effect, and broke them out of their stupor.

Reorganized into squadrons, companies, and battalions, they streamed to the walls, years of training going into action as they readied the city for war.

Shureen, her terrified gaze still upon the advancing ranks of Honor Blades that crested the valley, grabbed hold of his arm as he prepared to leave.

“Drakas, please, we must not fight them. We aren’t their enemies anymore.”

Drakas however was not so sure of that. As much as he would have liked to avoid another battle with the warriors of this land. The fact that they were an enemy army that had occupied their city, would not be tolerated, and he very much doubted the Honor Blades would wish to talk to those they deemed the darker races. And yet, could he condemn the lives of his brothers and sisters to this pointless battle?

Signalling Yorin over to his side, he watched the blocky faced orc move towards him, his flame coloured eyes still lit with a feverish bright light. “My lord?”

Disliking the way the orc looked at him, Drakas tried to keep the contempt from his voice as he commanded, "see if you can find us some white cloth. I'd like to speak with their leader."

Fist slammed into the metal plate of his black armor, the orc bowed his head low, "at your word, my lord," and felt the tension leave Shureen’s body beside him

Striding out the gates of Barkan's former compound, Dramas headed down the main street, eager to get a better view of the battlefield. His thoughts already on what he would do if they failed to negotiate a way out here, although if truth be told he could not yet tell how many of the dark one’s hosts he could truly count upon. Even with the darkness removed from their hearts, there were still some who would be loyal to the magelords like the blue skin giants, a problem for a later time.

Half looking up as he saw goblins, orcs, and ogrekans scramble to get up the stone ramparts, he watched the giants ready piles of debris ready to fling over the walls, goblins knock arrows to enchanted bows, and companies of orcs form up as reserves in the side streets, ready to patch any hole in their defenses.

Perhaps they would be enough to deter the enemy from attack, but he feared not.

Still by the time he reached the outer gates of the city with Shureen and Kirgin in tow, the defences were as set as they would ever be, and he clambered up onto the walls to see a sea of Honor Blades that swelled out all around them. If he was to throw a stone, he would likely have hit a half dozen targets easily as they stood in solid ranks of gleaming silver that made them appear like a shining river of steel.

Worry bit at him, and as he began to fear the worst would happen, an idea occurred to him. Maybe if they could reach Barkan's tower they could figure a way out of here.

As that thought occurred to him, he looked down at Shureen, "those tunnels you've been digging. Are they ready to be used?"

Her lips pursed thoughtfully as she quickly understood his intent, she nodded her head. "Yes, but it will take time to leave with so many, and the giants will not be able to come with us."

Having never trusted the blue skin giants to do anything that was not in their best interests, Drakas wondered if that would be such a bad idea? Still with their recent casualties in battle, Drakas would be hard pressed to return home without the help of the giants. A thought that reawakened the demon inside of him. "I did warn you, warrior."

Shouldering the thought of losing so many after they had just tasted freedom. Drakas pushed his way through the ranks of the goblin archers, and forced himself to focus on what was ahead of him.

Spread out in thick columns that ran north to the south between huge stone outrcroppings, he found much to his surprise that their first four ranks were made up of common farmers in pieces of rusted armor, labourers in jerkins, and hunters that carried bows and no armor. It was the type of cowardice he would have expected of the dark mages to use such people as battle fodder. While the fifth line was made up of regular soldiers in slate grey armor, personal guards to the Minotaur Lords that ruled these lands, and finally the Honor Blades who made up the bulk of the army with a force of mostly heavy infantry and some cavalry.

Disgusted by the possibility of having to kill so many untrained weaklings, he turned his attention back to his own warriors, when it struck him that he had thought of them as 'his forces'. Had even taken command without so much as a word from anyone else.

“They are yours now, warrior, take care you do not fail them like their former master,” the demon whispered.

His mind already on edge as it was, Drakas felt a tight knot appear between his shoulder blades at the dark reminder. He just wished that he was down there, facing the danger head on with his mace in hand. He did not like this waiting around. He also did not like the idea that so much now rode upon his shoulders. But if this was the price he had to pay for freedom, he would pay it a thousand fold.

Tapped on the shoulder by Shureen as Yorin strode out from between the gates, he watched the sturdy orc appear below with a piece of white cloth attached to his spear tip, his back stiff, and his gaze straight ahead of him as he marched out. The orc’s lone form, so small against the hundreds of minotaurs that lined the ground ahead of him. Shureen, who moved to stand beside Drakas' side, murmured a soft prayer up to the Lightbearer, and to his surprise clutched his hand. The unexpected touch, oddly comforting him.

Waving the spear from side to side, the demon blade made his way forward across the rocky terrain, his black armour distinct from the rest of the enemy, before he suddenly stopped in the middle of the field. Well within bow range of his goblin archers, rock throwers, as well as close enough to the thousands of silver clad warriors who still carried greatswords pointed upwards.

Feeling the tension hang heavy in the air, he began to think that it might not have been a wise idea to lose a demon blade so soon, when a party of three honor blades, marked with golden rings at the tips of their horns moved forward to meet Yorin.

Big, and armored in ornate silver armor they spoke to the orc well out of earshot, before Yorin returned to the walls. The quiet hush that fell over the city walls, broken only by the sound of the orc’s grating voice as he shouted up, "they wish to speak with you, my lord."

But again before he could think on what to do next, the voice spoke to him. “Better you show them your strength, lest they think you are weak.”

Fearing a possible trap, Drakas turned his attention to the side as he felt eyes upon him, and spoke to Shureen, “get the wounded into the tunnels,” then in a much louder voice, “I leave Shureen as my second, follow her commands as you would me.” A statement that at any other time would have caused a bloodbath to break out, but with an impending battle ahead of them. Most kept silent, although there were more than a few sullen glares shot at her.

Shureen, her eyes wide with shock, looked at him appalled, when he patted her on the shoulder, and smiled, “just get everyone out of here, and I will see about getting you some time.”

Dropping down from the ramparts and into a roll, he could see more than a few confused warriors look his way, but he shrugged it all aside. If he should fall out there was none better to lead these people to safety. The only problem that he could see was, was that she was female, a weakness most races were born to believe, even he. But there was none more fiery, passionate, and stubborn as Shureen, and he was certain that she could handle it. After all, had she not become the leader of the underground resistance? In any case, Kirgin would hopefully be of some assistance to her.

Gazing about him at the darker races that filled the streets, he pointed at two well built orcs that stood to attention. “Come with me,” and headed for the gates, where Wargrim as he had half expected, waited for him, his arms folded across his broad chest, and eyes glittering with hatred. “What game do you play at, greyskin?”

Note to Readers: I guess I had more to say about Drakas after all. :P