Part 1

Rayman sat atop his horse, trotting near King Xerath and his generals. They moved swiftly but couldn’t risk exhausting the horses to death. His four men trailing behind him, their armor slung over their saddles as the heat of the day was too hot to wear them.

His attention was pulled away from Xerath as a lone rider approached. “A scout.” he thought.

As the rider drew closer, however, Rayman squinted his eyes, realizing it wasn’t a scout but a young boy, not in uniform.

Xerath lifted his fist into the air, signaling the riders to halt. It took several minutes before Xerath commented on the identity of the boy.

“Henry?” he frowned. “Why is he out here?” he asked no one in particular.

Rayman didn't know who Henry was but he was riding fast and headed straight for them. Whoever he was, he was looking for them.

“King Xerath!” he shouted as he came into range.

Xerath waved him to approach, urging his horse forward to meet him. Rayman pulled out from the group and followed behind the king.

“King Xerath!” Henry shouted again, pulling on the reins and skidding to a halt. “Kyburn is in trouble. Unari is under siege as we speak.”

“We know,” Xerath said. “I left the main army with all my horsemen in order to travel faster.”

“Please sir…” Henry paused, taking deep breaths. “There are thousands of them. At least ten, maybe more. They attacked us in Riqun and we escaped through the caves but they followed us. The Emarine are real, me and Erik woke them. And the Thrak are too. They are the ones attacking Unari.” he rushed through his words, trying to explain everything that had happened in the last month.

“Calm down, son.” Xerath held up his hand. “Speak clearly. Who are the Emarine and what are Thrak?”

“O-oh sorry, sire.” Henry nearly blushed, realizing his hastiness was barely coherent. “The Ancients call themselves Emarine. They are an ancient race, that much the Historians were correct in. They lived on other planets in space. The Thrak, previously called the Prawlers, as the Historians dubbed them, they too are an ancient race of aliens that destroy planets.”

Rayman and Xerath glanced at each other, both thinking the same thing. “This boy was mad.”

“Henry…” Xerath pursed his lips in thought. “You know how this all sounds, right? Aliens, Emarine, space, and planets?”

“Uh…” Henry looked at them both as if he had explained himself perfectly. “Yes? Th-that doesn’t matter right now. Kyburn sent me to find you. We must hurry, sire. They are all in danger and if the Thrak get through Unari, they will have free reign in Xer and there will be little for us to do to stop them.”

“Is Erik in Unari?” Rayman butted in.

“Yes. He is fighting on the walls with Kyburn, Yvlana, and Lamir.” Henry looked at him.

“Who?” Rayman raised an eyebrow.

“The Emarine.” Henry looked frustrated that they weren’t getting him. “Yvlana and Lamir are the ‘Ancients’ from the ruins.”

“That is good to hear. Even better news that they are fighting with us.” Xerath cut in, the urgency obvious. “Tell us all about it on the way.”

Xerath raised his arm and shouted, “Advance!”

“A Lot has happened, sire,” Henry said. “There was an enormous battle in Riqun and the Kligirian’s are fleeing to the safety of any stronghold.”

Xerath motioned for him to ride along with them, and Henry whipped his horse around in the direction he came.

“What of Trygve?” Xerath asked. “Is he in Unari as well?”

“Yes, sire,” Henry replied. “Along with his remaining soldiers from Riqun. Many Kligirian’s died along with our own. Captain Arne and a few others survived. Everything happened so quickly and the shock of seeing such creatures stunned us all. Though I am ashamed to admit it, I was not a part of the fight.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Xerath comforted him. “You weren’t there for your skill with a sword, you obviously did your job and it sounds like the Ancients… excuse me, Emarine are on our side. You did well, son.”

“Thank you, sire.” Henry smiled. Overjoyed to be praised by the king, but his face went dark a moment later after remembering the situation they were in and the danger Kyburn faced.

“Don’t worry boy,” Rayman said. “We will get there in time. I only know Kyburn by reputation but he is a man to be reckoned with.”

Xerath chuckled slightly in agreement, laughing at an inside joke. “He is indeed.”

Part 2

They arrived in Unari with two enormous smoke columns stretching into the sky. Citizens were fleeing and abandoning wagons and belongings scattered along the streets. Rayman stared in uncertainty at the sky as they rode through the gates.

Black creatures with bright red eyes lunged over the wall and into the city, passing over the wall unhindered. They watched as several bodies were shot off the wall, flinging them to their deaths.

One, in particular, crashed through a roof and disappeared for a moment, an instant later the figure leapt up and shot something to the side pushing toward a falling soldier. Expertly, the figure caught the person falling then set him down then leapt off the roof twenty feet into the air.

Rayman’s mouth dropped open at the sight of the figure nearly flying, the power of the jump was unbelievable if he hadn’t just seen it.

“That’s her!” Henry yelled. “That’s Yvlana, the Emarine.”

“That was magnificent.” Xerath breathed, his face too was stunned from the encounter.

“Watch out!” soldiers from all around them yelled.

Rayman’s attention whipped down to street level. Twenty or so creatures rushed for the party of horsemen, going straight for Xerath.

“They are targeting the king,” he whispered.

“Protect the king!” the soldiers bellowed in unison.

Charging forward, the soldiers pushed past Xerath, Rayman, and Henry to form a semicircle around them. Their horses screeched and bucked in fear at the sight but did as their masters commanded. Extending spears, swords, and axes, they rushed toward the Thrak with speed.

There weren’t many but their agility made the task of cutting them down more difficult than expected. They spread out and jumped to the roofs and walls on the streets. Many stayed in place as the soldiers charged, then lunged for the legs of the horses a moment before impact.

Screams and high pitched squeals burst through the line of horses as they stumbled over each other. The Thrak focusing on the legs. The creatures on the roof and walls dropped atop the soldiers during the confusion and gnawed on the defenseless soldiers.

Horse archers picked several off before they could attack but it was too late for many. Xerath urged his horse forward as did the rest of his men.

“Charge!” he yelled.

Coming up behind them, they made quick work of the remaining Thrak, supporting those on the ground or unable to control their horses. The momentary respite was short-lived as another dozen from each side crept over the roofs, peering down at them.

“We need to get out of these streets!” Rayman bellowed.

“Get to the clearing!” Xerath shouted. “Move men!”

Before the Thrak could pounce, they were underway, racing toward the more open ground, their horses making it difficult to maneuver in such tight spaces.

Another ear-piercing explosion came from behind the border walls, creating a third pillar of smoke reaching for the skies. Then the Thrak ceased to climb over the wall, stemming the flow of creatures making it into the city.

“What is going on?” Rayman whispered as he rode into the clearing.

The Thrak were on their tales, keeping up with the horses and chasing them down. Quickly, Xerath split off to circle around as Rayman turned to the opposite way to come from the other side and attack in unison. Their charge was quick and effective, the Thrak, caught off guard at the sudden turns of the humans doubling back on them.

Barely able to react by the confusing formations, they halted and attacked head-on, leaping into the air to attack the riders, rather than the horses. Thankfully, most horsemen brought their spears up and impaled nearly all of the creatures. A few slipped through and caused significant damage to the lines but were trampled to death by the hooves of dozens of horses an instant later. In all, they had lost six men so far, already a heavy toll.

Rayman watched as two Thrak scurried away in panic, seeing their comrades butchered. Fortunately, Xerath spotted them too a moment before and pointed his sword at them. Archers took am and nailed them in the back and legs, immobilizing them.

“Take one alive!” Xerath ordered.

“Yes, sire!” the soldiers responded by immediately steering the horses to the wounded Thrak.

Pulling out lassoes, three men ropped one and pulled in each direction, keeping it from moving, whereas the second one was skewered through the skull.

“Watch out!” Henry yelled. “They can shoot spikes from their backs!”

It was too late, a soldier jumped on top of it, bringing up a collar to wrap around the neck. Instead, the Thrak shot out the small needle-like bones upward, straight into the chest of the man.

Howling in pain, he was bucked off and tossed to the ground, apart from his cheek and hand, the spikes weren’t effective, his armor stopping most of them. Scrambling to his feet, he gingerly pulled out a bone from his cheek, then the one in his hand, which had nearly punctuated clean through.

“Get it under control!” Xerath shouted.

Rayman scanned the tops of the wall, no Thrak were coming after the third blast and sent smoke into the sky and the Emarine woman had disappeared from sight.

“Spread out and protect the city!” Xerath barked orders. “Protect the citizens still evacuating. I want every Thrak in the area dealt with immediately. Move out!”

The soldiers made their own groups, and split into four forces, each spreading out across the city, scouring the streets for aliens and citizens.

Xerath's commanding voice boomed through the clearing, boosting morale and keeping the men orderly. Dismounting, Xerath urged the rest of the men to follow him, up to the wall. Rayman and his own few guards instantly followed the king. Xerath was many things but Rayman was glad to have him leading when he himself was still mildly shocked by the aliens on their doorsteps. Xerath had immediately recovered, whereas he took several moments to wrap his mind around the fact that Henry’s words were true. That creatures from distant planets had come to Isulia.

It wasn’t an easy task to accept it in one go, but Xerath led on, charging forward to support his fellow man, regardless of religion or race. The Kligirian’s, along with the Emarine were all fighting for survival. All past grudges were swept aside, focusing on one goal, survival.

Taking the stairs two at a time, thirty soldiers raced up the wall, pushing themselves to aid their brethren at the top. Each man was huffing and winded by the time they reached the top, inhaling in deep gulps, trying to keep pace with the rest of the men.

The sight that greeted them was an odd one at best. Rayman cleared the stair and rushed to the edge of the wall, peering down below. Vog were slaughtering Thrak, the army of aliens lay dead in piles below. Three Emarine were directly below, one seemed to be injured.

No one on the wall could do anything now, the Thrak out of reach of arrows, and for them to reach them down below, they would have to race back down the wall and open the massive gates to get to the ground. It was nearly over, however, when he saw it, the enormous beast from the caves. The beast who had killed Ben, Mark, and Connor.

Rage boiled inside him at seeing the large Vog on the battlefield. Both disgust and hate filled his heart for a brief moment, all the emotions and heartache at seeing his fellow comrades be butchered by the Vog pushed him to the brink. Conflicting thoughts replaced the hatred and replaced it with confusion and frustration.

He was unable to simply hate the Vog, as they fought for all of them. They too wanted to survive just like them. Humans and Vog were not enemies, yet the uneasiness and memories of his friends' deaths could not be shaken away so easily.

Images of finding Ben torn apart came rushing back, Mark’s leg being torn off and watching him slowly die of his wounds. Connor thrashing around in pain as his back looked like minced meat, he too slowly died from infection and fever.

Watching the Vog fight the Thrak couldn’t make him forget those memories and they never would. Rayman felt a sinking feeling as he set his heart with the hate from before.

A loud scream came from their left, followed by howls of pain and more yelling. Xerath and Rayman immediately sprinted toward the shouting, keeping pace with each other.

They reached the disturbance just in time to see Erik, standing over three Thrak, one arm missing as blood gushed out of the stump.

“ERIK!” Rayman bellowed. The sight of him brought out fatherly instinct and he nearly leaped to catch his falling body.

Erik collapsed into his arms, he seemed unresponsive but was still conscious. He was screaming in pain and his ears rang from it.

“Doctor!” Rayman bellowed. “Get a doctor!”

Xerath stepped up beside them, looking helpless but sympathetic. A moment later he walked over to the dead aliens and dislodged the limb from its jaws.

There were rumors of doctors being able to reattach limbs but it was a long shot. Erik was losing blood fast and he had just fallen unconscious. Without realizing it, Kyburn was there too, speaking with Xerath in a hushed voice.

Many men surrounded them, offering their strength to carry him to a more secure place. Refusing any help, Rayman lifted his king and followed two men claiming they knew where the doctors were.

Rushing as fast as he could, he realized they had to descend the stairs but it didn’t phase him. Rayman’s adrenaline was spiking, pushing his body to the limits as they descended the stairs.

At the time, Rayman felt nothing but the urge to save the young man in his arms, nothing else could stop him. His body going into overdrive, Rayman swiftly made his way back down the wall and into a large building set up as a temporary medical center.

Laying Erik down, Rayman was ushered away to a distance as the surgeons began working on stopping the blood. Erik was pale and looked dead already. For a moment he imagined his own son, Daniel, on that bed, fighting for his life and it made him sick.

To his surprise, Xerath was there, holding the severed limb in a blood-soaked cape, hoping they could reattach his arm. Rayman hadn’t even noticed Xerath was following them, he must have been worried for Erik to personally retrieve his arm.

“I’m sorry, sire.” a doctor said. “It’s too late for that.”

“If we were there the moment it happened then perhaps it would have been possible to reattach the arm but it took over ten minutes for you to get him here.” another doctor said as they worked on Erik.

“No!” Rayman wailed in sorrow. Knowing full well the impact it would have on Erik’s life at losing a limb. “Please! Try!” he pleaded.

“Rayman.” Xerath shook him by the shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself. There is nothing they can do to save the arm but he will live.”

Rayman stared into Xerath’s eyes, looking for hints of doubt but found none. Xerath truly believed Erik would not die and that gave him hope.