Part 1

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?-” Ali Salhab asked with a childish grin on his mouth as if he was looking at an old toy lost since his childhood. Upon receiving no response from me other than a scoff, he continued with his rant “- I’ve been watching those walls, always from afar, dreaming of the day I would come back and claim my ancestor’s legacy. Always hoping that this day would come, and now…I ride toward those walls, armed and ready to spill blood. The blood of my citizens, of my people. How laughable of a king am I?... Tell me truthfully-” Ali said in a low tone, barely an audible whisper with fear and worry mixed in his gaudy tones “- Will it work? Will ya plan succeed?”

“I’ll make it work” I replied shortly with my mind still half stuck in meditation and the other barely awake.

“Is it knowledge that gives ya this confidence? Strength in ya magic perhaps? Or are we merrily riding towards certain death spun by the words of a madman?”

“Rage and anger-” I answered giving the king of sand pirates a side eye full of scorn “- and brotherly responsibilities…though it’s mostly rage”

“Mr. Raphael, ya terms…” Ali tried to articulate tentatively before putting a stop to his words by himself.

“Are you planning on going back on your word, oh-great king?” I sneered.

“Nothing of the sort, no. I gave ya my word and mana binds our promise, so I would never dare to do ya disfavor but…are ya sure about that? Is that really all?” Genuine worry was pictured on his sand-and-sun-struck face.

Seeing that expression made me reevaluate my actions and my opinion of the man. I had thought of him as calculative, due to the deals we made, and a good actor, seeing the different faces and business smiles he showed me. Yet at that moment, with genuine worry distorting his face, I remembered how he was a human just like me, with people to care for and protect.

I ignored his words and pried my eyes away from the walls and towards the endless dunes of sand. It was night, the stars were shining dimly behind a grey curtain of clouds hanging low over our heads. I sighed internally and breathed the fresh air of a desert night, rejuvenating my already tired body and mind.

[I don’t know what gods are favoring me but I gotta thank them all-] I thought to myself [- there’s no better night than tonight for the plan to work]

I paused on those thoughts and fished from my mind my sister’s face, forcing my brain to create a panchromatic scene of how her kidnapping took place. I tried to picture her face, her thoughts, her struggles. I tried to picture the aftermath of that, the prison cell she was held in, the possible pain she was faced with… Self-inflicted torture on my part that was. Nothing more than feeding oil to a burning fire. I wanted to be angry, furious, blinded by rage for the sole purpose of casting out the doubts that were clouding my mind. Doubts that involved the success of the mission, the well-being of my sister, or what was needed of me in case the plan didn’t succeed. I could feel it already, the blood filling up my nostrils and washing away every other flavor. It scared me. It scared me how, just that afternoon, I carved for it, hungered for it. Something was wrong with me, something had changed, it was plain to see, but I just couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Was I just turning into a murderer by my own volition or was this caused by the month of torture? I was afraid to learn the answer. Afraid to even delve deeper into my head to search for it, so I funneled the flames and stir my rage awake, letting its leash loose like a dog of war.

In recalling my sister’s face, the conversation I had with Ali about the plan also surfaced. Once he had approved of it in front of the eyes of his crew, he led me to the captain’s chambers where he kept his numerous maps and added the ones I drew to his maniacal collection. I delved deeper into the finer details of my rough plan, cutting and polishing it like a precious gem. The base of it, the very mainstay, was to use the city’s corruption against itself.

Under the rule of the current lord, corruption spread wild like an infestation across the city. Bribing, illegal gambling houses, smuggling dens, and all wickedry related flourished like never before. Thus, infrastructures were created for their expansion, most of which underground where the colossal amounts of sand compacted into solid rock. Tunnels and pathways traced a maze right below the city leading to virtually every corner of it…the lord’s mansion included. The plan was to separate our forces. A good amount of Ali’s troops were to take one such tunnel, follow a map I was able to gather after getting an old smuggler of slaves drunk, and rush into the lord's mansion. If the map was correct they were to end up in the inner gardens from where they would separate to open both gates of his mansion, the outer walls gate and the mansion gates themselves. In the meantime, the group led by Ali and I had to create a distraction to attract the city’s attention. Then survive long enough for the other group to open up the path to the lord’s chambers.

While defining the plan in terms of manpower and imagining all sorts of possible ways it could go wrong, me and Ali ended up swearing another mana oath to each other. Its contents stated that I would fight to the bitter end until the lord was defeated and in return, Ali would listen to my demands. Demands that, upon hearing them, arouse an extremely surprised look on Ali’s face as each of them involved my sister and my sister only.

“If we succeed, you take over the city and I survive, you’ll give us a ship and enough resources for the voyage to the land of dwarves. If I die, you’ll take my sister under your wing, treat her like your own daughter and raise her as such. If she asks to leave, you are to let her go only the moment you deem her capable of fending for herself. If not, you’ll give her a place among your people…And, if there is a chance, you’ll let me take the life of Ethan Vernet Brahet myself” I said with an unfeeling tone after a few minutes lost in thought.

Our eyes met, just briefly. His crimson fiery gaze sunk into my icy blue. Threads connected us, I could feel it, though barely. Be it fate, fortune, or mana, a force beyond us was pushing our lives to travel on the same roads. The thought sickened me but before I could comment on that, Ali spoke first.

“I said and I’ll repeat it. I hear ya terms and I accept them…it just feels weird how ya could trust a complete stranger, one that forced ya into this dangerous of a situation to begin with, with ya sister’s life” Ali said, leaning with his elbows on the railing on the bow and tilting his head back and sideways so that he would look at Blackwall’s walls.

“That’s the thing-” I said chuckling, provoking a surprise and questioning eyebrow-rise from Ali “- I don’t trust you but I need to ensure my sister’s life in every way possible and you, my dear king, are the safer one”

“Quite the calculative fellow ya are” Wittily replied the king, laughing at his own jokes loudly.

“If need be” I shrugged.

“...Are ya really seventeen?” He asked with an indescribable look in his eyes, a mixture of worry and awe that should never see the face of the earth.

“What do I look like to you?” I replied, more as a joke to lighten the mood than a serious question but was instead met with the total seriousness and thought of his reply.

“Someone who’s seen too much and has not healed-” The king said with a placidity that shocked me “- What did ya see down in the labyrinth that made ya like this?”

“...We’re getting close to the walls-” I replied after several seconds as I looked away from Ali and into the distance “- You should slow down the ship and tell your men to get ready. It’s not long until we have to stop and let the other group enter the tunnels”

“...I see”

Part 2

The ship was stationary, silent in the middle of the desert without any source of light on. The crew was on edge, their nerves threatening to explode at the slightest spark. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on a spot northeast of where the ship was. A spot where a nearby dune, bigger than the others and supported by heavy, sharp rocks, met with the walls. There stood one of the entrances to the underground maze, hidden two rocks that led to a natural passage that dove deep under the walls.

The suspense was heavy as we all waited for the signal to come. Three torches lit in the shape of a reverse triangle, two high one lower, lit for no more than ten seconds. Many men, Ali included, leaned on the railings with spyglasses glued to their eyes. Not wanting to add weight to the already heavy mood on that side of the ship, I sat with my back leaned on a wall of the captain’s chambers, my eyes fixed on the black walls of the city standing tall like a mountain in the distance. I closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of respite, and before I knew it, the first “ I see it!” shout came knowing at my eardrums. The signal had come together with the excited shouts of Ali’s crew and disappeared in a handful of seconds, leaving behind the hollow realization that it was time to start.

“They sent the signal-” Said Ali as he sat down with me, his legs crossed and a bottle of honey-colored liquid smelling heavily of alcohol in his hands “- and went in the passage. I’m guessing it’s time to move, eh?”

“Indeed. Tell your men to get armed and clutch to something solid. I’m not sure how much of the ship will be left after we land” I replied untangling my legs and stretching them a bit.

“Here-” Ali said shoving the bottle in front of my face “- for the nerves!” He finished with a wide, even if a bit forced, smile.

“Thanks, but I don’t drink…let’s start”

I stood on the bow as Ali barked orders to his men. The ship had begun to move again, its course was perpendicular to the walls, its direction, the gates. The sailors, armed and ready with heavy leather armors and weapons of all sorts, were running around the ship. Some were busy fixing the sails in the right direction, others were helping move all objects underdeck while most of them were tying themselves with ropes to the most solid places of the ship. It was a funny sight to see.

I glanced back to the man standing behind the helm as he nodded at me. Swiftly, I moved around the anthill of sailors and reached the captain. Who regarded me with a wary smile.

“Freshen me up a bit about the plan, will ya? I raise the sand, ya call the wind to cook up a sandstorm, then what? How do ya plan to get over the walls?” He asked as he steered the helm, fixing the route of the ship.

“Easy, you flood the walls with sand and I threw us, the ship, and the sand up over the walls and try to cushion our fall” I said matter-of-factly.

“Sounds fancy and all, straight outta campfire story of heroes, but can ya really do it? No offense” He replied laughing a grim laugh.

“None taken, I’ve already done it once…How difficult can it be compared to throwing two people in the air?” I answered with a cocky smirk and low-toned chuckle.

“Aight! ‘Guess we’ll see each other on the Dark Plains! HAHAHA!” The captain laughed loudly.

The ship began to catch speed, sailing faster and faster as sand moved, rose, and roared in our wake. Dunes started to melt all around us, mixing their golden bodies with the increasingly higher waves below us. Soon, the sea of sand was roaring in a storm, clutching and pushing at our ship. We were already several meters above our original height and the hull was creaking and rocking dangerously. A bell rang in the distance, then another and another and another. Fires were lit upon the walls and I suspected men were being stationed on them. We had been spotted.

[Time to shine!] I thought to myself as I heavily breathed in and out a couple of times to stir my mind.

Mana began moving towards my hands, condensing on my palms and turning into what felt like tangible liquid. With a command of my mind and a word from my tongue, mana began spilling from my hands, drenching the deck, the ship, and the sand altogether. The wind picked up and the sails swelled with bountiful speed. It was an exhilarating feeling, to use a new spell for the first time.

The magic in question was not so much of a spell per se, rather it felt more like a plead to mana. I was turning the refined mana in my body and all the natural mana I could grasp into elemental wind, then guiding it to my will. I gave it a name at the academy when I first thought of the spell, just a rough outline of it, “siphoning tempest”. The effects were much different from what I had imagined back then, less destructive and chaotic, but I regarded that issue as a fault of my physical state and the lingering effects of the torture. Still, it was fascinating holding in my hands the reins of the very wind that pushed our ship around like a swinging cradle.

Ali laughed as excitedly as a child when the ship started to gain height, though his sailors were not as happy or excited as he was. He matched the quantity of his sand supporting us with the increasing strength of my wind, creating an evergrowing tsunami of sand with a ship riding on it. Behind and around us, a sandstorm was roaring and howling like a wild beast, clouding everything in brown except for the target in front of our eyes.

When the shape of the men holding their longbows on top of the walls became clear, our eyes were at the same level. The ship was rocking sideways and frontally in the wind, threatening to break apart or succumb to the wind the moment I let go of my hold on its reins. I knew that because I was on the brink of losing it. The process I had started, natural mana turning into elemental wind mana under the influence of the refined mana in my body, had grown beyond my expectations, creating a domino effect where everything my wind touched turned into more wind. If I were to lose focus for a single instant, our lives would have been forfeited to the winds. Ali was in no different situation. Sweat was drenching his brow as he chewed heavily on his lower lip. His hands, clutching furiously at the helm in an attempt to steer the ship straight, had blood spilling from the nails and bone-white knuckles. The sand below us was growing less dense, thinner, and more chaotic by the second.

“WALLS INBOUND!-” Shouted a young sailor that tied himself, arms and legs, to the bow’s railing “- A HUNDRED METERS IN FRONT OF US!”

We were close, but too low to enter without risk.

“Push it, Ali!” I shouted from behind the man, keeping my back and ass fixed firmly on the railing.

“Add a title to my fucking name, ya kid!” Shouted the man in reply as more and more sand washed below us.

My head became dizzy, my thoughts fuzzy, and the taste of blood filled my mouth as I pushed my focus into controlling the wind more tightly, leading it to raise the ship higher. A sail got torn apart and the upper side of the main mast snapped in half. The chunk of wood flew high in the wind, spiraling over our heads until it reached high where my currents did not reach. Then, like a missile, it fell down and snapped into many little chunks of wood once it crashed on the side of the wall.

Below us were screams. Muffle screams, screams of pain, fear, and suffering. Screams that got choked, screams that barely reached my ears. The archers stationed on the wall were now ten meters below our hull, submerged by a torrent of furious sand. Helmets and weapons, corpses and injured men flew around us as those who were unlucky to be hit by the strongest of winds got dragged away from the sandy tsunami.

“HERE WE ARE BLACKWALL!-” Shouted in joyous excitement Ali once we passed the walls and the city laid bare below us “- YA KING’S BACK!”

In an instant, following the directives of the plan, Ali let go of his control on sand. The wave below us lost its form as it splashed around like dust in the wind. The toll on my consciousness, as our ship started to freefall out of the sky, doubled and tripled in a matter of an instant. My nose filled with blood as my vision darkened to a worrisome degree. Everything around me spun as the wind’s strength coming from below us heightened and my hair shot up like possessed vines. The phantomatic hands of my consciousness clutched around the reins of the wind tightened their grip as I began to slip into unconsciousness. Like a rider whose lights got knocked out of him yet still stands firmly on top of his streed.

The city grew closer. The houses, the shops, the main street filled with guards and running civilians, the thinner streets, and the tall buildings. All grew closer and closer, clearer and clearer at an alarming speed. I shouted out my anger and frustration. My hands unconsciously mimicked the action of holding reins as I forced all wind around us to support the ship. The hull cracked, the rudder flew off, all sails got torn apart, the bow spirit snapped and broke as chunks and bits of wood from all over the ship joined the storming winds. I heard my name screamed in excitement and to incite. From all over the ship, sailors called my name as they began to untie themselves from the ropes. That’s when my consciousness caught up with the present events.

The ship was down, touching land upon a three meters high hill in the very middle of the main road. A long wound scarred the side of it, spilling the contents of the ship’s lower decks. All around me was a thick cloud of golden sand and dust brought left and right, up and down, around and in circles by crazy winds. I laughed hysterically as I cleaned the blood off my lips, mouth, and nose.

“Get up, storm mage!-” Shouted Ali in my ears as he grabbed my shoulders and shook me around like a ragdoll “- Ya did it! YA FUCKING DID IT! We’re in Blackwall, everything’s in chaos. Soldiers running around, buildings destroyed or submerged by sand, and everyone’s freaking out! In the name of my ancestors, ya did it!-” He continued merrily with an excited, bloody grin plastered on his face “- My boys are gathering down there. Guards and adventurers are sure to come meet us soon. Ya can’t die or sleep now, THE BLOODY PART ONLY STARTS NOW! HAHAHA!”

With his merry rant done, Ali grabbed a bucket close by, most likely brought by one of his men, and chugged the contents straight to my face. A shower of cold water stir me out of my half-consciousness. I gulped whole chunks of air, feeling like my lungs were completely devoid of it, and grunted my distaste for the rude awakening. Ali laughed and rose me from the ground, standing me up with the help of his shoulders. With wobbly steps, we walked across the ship to where the front was torn off and long planks of wood were used as ramps.

I took a moment to enjoy my work. From the top of the ramp, I stopped and looked at the curtain that fell on the city. The chaos that was surging, that I had created, was overwhelmingly loud, and yet it reached my ears as a sugary melody. Sweet enough for me to lose in it if not for the loud stomping of boots coming from somewhere in front of us.

I extracted my sword and reached the bulk of Ali’s men the moment he had just finished an encouraging speech. Shouts and warcries rose as the king unsheathed his sword and brandished it over his head like a flag. I looked at the group as they fell into position and noted with a grim thought that it was a few souls lighter than when we first started. I pushed that thought aside, regarding it as an unfortunate consequence of the battle and made my way through the troops all the way to Ali’s side. As I passed, some sailors now turned soldiers called my name with respect, others called me “storm mage”, and others reached for me, patting me on the back and shoulders.

“Seems like my men are fond of ya now-” Said Ali with a smirk “- No wonder, after the stunt ya pulled. Storied will be told of this day for generations!”

“Then how about we make it a story with a good ending?” I replied smirking back as wide as him.

“Ay! LET’S WRITE OUR NAMES IN BOOKS OF LEGENDS!” Shouted Ali raising his sword once more and pointing it at the grey, shadowy mush that was coming for us.

“FOR THE KING! FOR THE GLORY! FOR THE PEOPLE!” Replied in unison the soldiers.

“CHARGEEEE!” Screamed Ali, charging shoulder-first into the dusty mist.

The men and I followed. Screams and shouts rose from the brown curtain. Both sides of the battle were about to meet and the clanking of swords against swords was soon to come. Ali was the first to meet an enemy, a young guard, and was the first to fall one. The savagery with which he cut him down, armor and all, was baffling. The very picture of a savage barbarian, rejoicing in the blood of his fallen opponent. The wave of armed guards and adventurers, some clad in iron, others in cloth and leather, soon came crashing on our wave of leather-clad sailors and the street became slick with blood.

The two sides mixed as the battle raged more and more furious with every second. The sandstorm blowing in our ears did not help at all, rather it made everything confusing enough that people on both sides had to be cautious not to slash an ally.

It excited me. The chaos, the blood, the smell of death and fear, and the sounds of battle mixing with the wind and the screams of the citizens. I enjoyed it all, eagerly bathed in it, even though I knew it was wrong of me to do so. A part of me knew. It knew that I should have remained calm and collected like I always was, judging the situation for what it was. The rational part, the humane part. The other wanted nothing but blood. It enjoyed the bloodshed I was causing as I felled enemy after enemy, taking full advantage of my mana-heightened vision amidst the sandstorm. It reveled in the knowledge that it was the cause of the chaos drowning the city. It was eager to show the lengths to which it could cause destruction.

It was wrong on so many levels. I knew it well. I knew it and yet chose to ignore it, chose to let it free. It was an easy choice. I had no idea whether that was truly me, a personality I repressed, or one new repercussion of the torture, but it was easy. Easy to kill without feeling guilt, easy to suppress the hot feeling burning below my skin, easy to partake in the senseless slaughter apt to release the anger I felt kindling inside. Thus I let them free, those feelings of joy, hunger, rage, and lust for chaos.

I hacked and slashed. Stabbed and thrust, punched and kicked, bit and snapped until my arms hurt and my blade was drenched in crimson. The silence that followed was obnoxious. It's only cure the hammering ringing in my ears that cluttered my head with confusion. All around me were corpses, some motionless, immortalized in death with their stares full of fear, others still twitching with deathly convulsions. A moment of respite for the soldiers who just won their first battle, but a torture for the bloodthirsty and chaos-seeking me.

A hand patted heavily on my shoulder and my instincts spiked like a cornered dog. I spun around in place and my blade flew, neck height, in the direction the hand came from. I expected a head to roll and blood to spill like a fountain, instead the sharp of my blade was met with another of its kind. A curved sword, a scimitar stopped my slash and held it in place. The man holding the scimitar grinned widely and laughed gaudily. His red eyes were sharp yet marked by heavy, dark bags underneath. His expression was tired and his face dirtied with sand and sticky with blood and sweat. I lowered my weapon and exhaled heavily in an attempt to subdue the clenching bloodthirst.

“I knew ya were close with death when I first saw ya fight my men-” Said Ali as he sheathed his sword and slammed his heavy hand repeatedly on my shoulder. A friendly gesture I gathered “- But this…this is truly something else. Ya fight like a monster, a devil, I say! HAHA!”

I was about to reply, shooing the man in the mood for jokes upon a bloody battlefield away, when a shouting man, not much older than myself came running towards us. His shirt had a long cut across it, showing the toned muscles underneath it, the leather chest piece long gone, cut by the same sword that ruined his shirt. His right hand was covered in bloody bandages and the man kept his fingers straight, a little too straight. Once he came closer I figured out the reason. Two fingers, the index, the medium and half of the ring finger, were gone along with a good chunk of his shoulder where other bloody bandages offered very little respite. His expression was wary and tired as the color of his skin seemed to have slightly left him. A saddened and worried look from Ali and I knew everything I needed to.

“Your Majesty!-” Shouted the man, dancing around the littered corpses as he ran at us “- Your Majesty! Oh, storm caller. Your Majesty, we’ve finished setting up the barrier as you instructed”

“Good work, Alarian-” Replied Ali as he got rid of the sorrowful look and wore the stern mask of a king “- Warn Saee that he is to scout the nearby zone and kill everyone armed on sight, then got get treatment from Ephiales and rest. We do not know when the next battle will come!”

“As his Majesty commands!” Answered the man with a bow before disappearing once again.

“What’s this barrier business?” I asked as I followed Ali toward what I assumed was the barrier in question.

“Two of the nearby houses collapsed-” He began to explain “- Half the street’s blocked by debris so I told my men to raise a barrier using whatever they find. Wood, bricks, corpses, and everything else. It should help us slow down the next wave…What’d ya think?”

“Smart but wasteful-” I answered as I pictured in my mind the barrier and thought out the various scenarios that could await us “- I bet a couple guards slipped away and are now warning the others. The next wave will be big and the best way to approach it would be with guerrilla tactics I suppose”

“Gue willa? What’s that?” Asked dumbfounded the king.

“Sorry, guess you wouldn’t know…ehm, basically hide and strike, hide and strike, hide and strike until their numbers and morale dwindle enough for us to fight them openly. Not very honorable, but who cares” I said shrugging my shoulders.

“Can it be done?” Ali asked as curiosity sparked in his eyes along with a bright, little star of hope.

“...I suppose that if we hide well enough we could actually pull it off”

“Wouldn’t that fuck up the plan? The guards may turn back if they don't find a clear opponent” Ali rightfully retorted.

“Unfortunately yes…If we want the plan to work, then we have to be one hell of a distraction. Meaning we fight ‘em head on”

“Ya make it sound like suicide” Chuckled grimly the king.

“...No comment”

We walked the rest of the way in silence, Ali worried about his men’s fate and I busy dealing with the ringing noise and the suppressed hunger. The bloody barrier was two meters high and as wide as the street. Ali’s men were busy all over it. Some were carrying heavy chunks of stone or corpses up the barrier, others were tending to their wounds while the rest were either mending their equipment or resting in a corner. A set of pyres was burning brightly in a corner far from everything else. About a fifth of Ali’s men died in that first assault.

I took the chance and chose to rest. I could feel the toll of the day’s weight heavy on my muscles and the huge void left by the absence of mana eating at my core. With my back leaned on a half-crumbled wall, I closed my eyes and meditated. Or at least tried to since the chaos in and out made it difficult for me to fully focus.

Not ten minutes since I sat down passed for one of the men that Ali sent to scout to return. He was in distress, with cuts all around his body and limping on a leg. The scout explained how he was the only one who survived because was ordered to run and his group was forced to fight against the army of guards. Numbering around the hundred, the guards had teamed up with the adventurers and what I figured were the seven swords and were now making their way toward our position.

Unrest spread rapidly around the already wary remaining soldiers. Half seemed to enter a state of panic once the full scale of the enemy’s army was revealed while the other half jumped at the weapons and climbed the barrier. Ali barked orders left and right. He moved the healers way towards the back and ordered those too injured to fight to hide in the nearby buildings once they received treatment. He tried to order the soldiers in formation but between bloodlust and panic, few listened and chaos ensued. It was interesting watching it for a while, understanding the true measure of the sand king’s soldiers but I got bored soon enough, seeing as there were only a handful of courageous, or either mad and bloodlusted, soldiers around.

I shook my legs and stretched my back, feeling the tension of the muscles strain against my skin, then rose to my feet. I walked around the place, picking up the better-looking swords from the piles of enemy weapons Ali’s soldiers gathered. Once I was satisfied with my haul, I climbed the barrier and sat upon a square-looking block facing the street ahead. The wind ruffled my hair and the sand stuck to the blood on them, turning my hair into a dirty mess of small bloody vines swinging in the wind. Using a piece of cloth torn from a nearby enemy flag, I started to clean my weapon, going slow on purpose as a way to calm the hammering sensation on my temples and the fury of mana hidden beneath the curtain of volatile sand.

“Quite the scenery, ain’t it?” I said chucking as I twirled a just-cleaned knife in my hand, playing with it a little before sheathing it between my two belts.

“I can’t see shit!-” Ali replied with a long sigh “- What ya mean ‘scenery’?”

“I can look a bit further, a bit clearer, than you thanks to mana…how are the soldiers?” I replied and asked, finally raising my sight from the sword in my lap to the man standing with his arms crossed by my side.

“Not good, as I’m sure ya guessed-” He sighed defeated “- They outnumber us almost three to one. It’s no wonder the men are pissing their pants…We stole some bows from the enemy, just seven, so I’ll have some soldiers shoot arrows as soon as our enemies come in sight…the rest depends on how long we can keep this position”

I kept my silence and looked at him questioning, his expression shifting continuously from a cold mask to a worried general, as if to follow the trail of his thoughts. His eyes darted from left to right, never losing focus of the paved road ahead. Only when he realized I wasn’t answering, did Ali turn his head and set his eyes on me.

“Worry not-” He said, shooing some invisible worry away with a hand “- they’ll fight to the death. We’ve already lost warriors, good men. They know that stopping now will give us nothing…and they know how much this city is worth to me and to my name. They will not stop, don’t worry about that”

“...You should go” I said sternly as I twirled the clean sword in my hand and plunged it on the ground, keeping it steady and straight in front of my eyes.

“Sorry?” Asked the man confused.

“There are not many more guards around other than the ones coming for us-” I replied leaning back on my makeshift stool and sighing at the sky “- Between the ones we killed, the ones coming for us, those that ran and those trying to fix things around town, I’d wager fifty guards are left to protect the lord. Maybe even less. Adventurers are another story, but I’m sure very few of them joined in on the fight and they’ll be the first to run once things start to go south”

“Very interesting but I’m not sure I follow”

“What I’m saying is that either the group we sent to the lord’s mansion perished or is struggling right now…The fact that the vast majority of guards were sent here is proof that the lord is underestimating us, but staying here means playing the lord’s game. You should leave for the mansion and join with your men. Once there, power through the mansion and finish this battle as soon as possible” I explained.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Mr. Raphael” Ali replied sternly.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I retorted in the same tone.

“That’s suicide!-” He shouted as he leaned closer until we were face to face “- One man against an army of a hundred? Are ya mad? Did ya got hit in the head?”

“Don’t patronize me-” I scoffed “- I know the risks that came with my plan, thus the terms of it and the oath. Men have already died, some are dying right now and others will die as soon as their army reaches this barrier. I’m giving you the chance to save some of those men by taking the snake’s head. Don’t bother me with fake worry and do as we fucking agreed. Save. My. Fucking. Sister. Take. The. City…It’s not had, is it?!-” I shouted back at his face “-...Plus, I’ll not die, I still have some tricks I could play, you know. Create a huge distraction, then start to thin out their numbers in silence, from the distance. I can still control the wind if I focus. I could just trap them in a waaay heavier sandstorm and suffocate them…I have ways to win. This just isn't your playfield anymore”

“...Are ya sure of this?” The king asked as he sat beside me on the squarish rock.

“I’m stronger than you give me credit for” I chuckled.

“Fine-” Ali replied with a sigh “-I’ll take my men and leave. We’ll use the side roads and shortcuts ya provided. Going underground could also be an idea but if the other group was met there, they’ll surely expect more. It might be a trap…Huh, ya know what my men call ya now?” He said as he looked around at the sandstorm.

“What?”

“Storm caller-” He replied proudly “- It’s an old title given to shamans who defended our city with sandstorms like walls. I’d say it’s an honor to hold that title but I’ve got a feeling ya don’t care”

I simply laughed at his remark, a genuine laugh that seemed contagious enough for the king to laugh with me. Several seconds passed like that, laughing like idiotic kids and gasping for air. Then, Ali stood up without a word and moved away from the rock where we sat.

“It has been a pleasure fighting alongside a warrior like ya-” Ali said, sincerity rang loudly in his tone as his crimson eyes set on mine with a kingly will “-I’m too young to be a father so try to survive, ya blasted fool!”

With those words, the king faced his back to me and walked down the barrier. He barked orders and helped his men when needed, forming a line of the remaining able soldiers with him at the head. Suddenly, shouts broke out from the line below me and the name “Storm caller” rang loudly in the air before disappearing under the stomping feet of the leaving soldiers. I sighed at the silent void that was left.

“Now it’s just me and a hundred soldiers-” I said melancholically “-Reminds me of the time Lucas and I fought the undead army…*sigh* I fucking miss you, brother”

Part 3

- ALI SALHAB ALBASTER’S POV -

In files of two, we marched across Blackwall’s thin and maze-like streets. We did so at a sprint-like pace, hoping to waste as little time as possible. We waited around the corners, inside buildings and on top of roofs when a stray patrol of guards or a group of armed citizens came across our path. Under my orders, we shied away from every fight, separating into groups of two or four and escaping pursuit. Every one of my men was instructed on the possible ways to reach the mansion in cases such as that since losing sight of a companion wasn’t something I regarded as strange thanks to the awful visibility.

One by one, the various groups or single warriors that reached the buildings near the mansion gathered, forming the original group minus a couple souls. The mansion was right in front of our eyes, hidden behind a sandy curtain. Only once we ran out towards the mansion, charging at full speed and ready to meet the enemy’s opposition, did we come to a realization. Not a single soldier or adventurer was outside of the walls. The place was untouched. Pristine if not for the layer of thin sand carried by the sandstorm.

“Your Majesty-” Said Akrafhat, a soldier of mine famed for his thirst for ale and prowess with the axe “- Our brother’s succeeded. The gates are open!”

With stupor and surprise, I looked at where Akrafhat was pointing. Where before stood double gates of solid wood, now dark fumes mixed with dust. Bits and chunks of what I figured was the gate, were scattered around the place, leaving an empty void in the otherwise impenetrable outer walls of the lord’s dwelling. Our brothers had succeeded indeed. The way was open and I ordered us to move through.

The first traces of blood, burned and splattered over a still-hot battlefield, greeted our eyes together with the first corpses, both allies and foes. Jubilant shouts and warcries erupted from my men’s throats as I ordered them to rush through the gardens, killing anything that moves and storming the mansion itself. I ran with them, riding that collective bloodlust that filled our hearts with warrior’s rage.

Few of the enemy’s soldiers were still around the gardens. Mostly staggerers and confused cowards, pitiful people, really, but not enough to escape our blades. Faster than we expected, we met the second gate, the inner gate leading to the halls of the mansion, and the sounds of battle finally reached our ears.

Even from outside, one could tell with a single glance the fierceness of the battle raging in between those halls. Broken glass and furious shouts called for us inside while red-hot fire burned the furniture and walls of a number of rooms, both on the lower floors and the higher ones. We crossed the threshold and the smell of burning blood filled our noses.

Fallen soldiers all over. Broken statues, crashed furniture, lonesome fires, and weeping servants littered the wide entrance built to impress guests, now theater of a massacre. Flight of stairs at the end of the hall led both up to the upper floors, where raging shouts and deathly screams came from, and down to what I imagined was a basement. I cleared my throat and shouted for attention, halting the warriors in their steps.

“Remember why we’re here, men!-” I shouted authoritatively at the top of my lungs, portraying as much kingly decisiveness as possible “- Alek, Ehnnas, Torn, Alyssan, Berian, Gren. Ya six go down-” I said pointing at the stairs leading to the basement with my sword “- Look for the girl, brown hair, pale skin, roughly ten, but free every prisoner ya can find. THE REST WITH ME!”

“YES, YOUR MAJESTY!” Shouted in unison my men, separating into two groups and running each to their flight of stairs.

I climbed the stairs at the head of my group, sword in hand and jumping two steps at a time. The hallways there were worse than below. The walls, floors and carpets were slick with blood and torn by battle. We followed that path of destruction, careless of whose blood we were stepping on. After two corners, at the end of a wide hallway, a door adorned with gold and precious gems, remained shut and untouched. In front of it, a chaotic mass of bodies belonging to my warriors and the lord’s soldiers crashed on each other, screaming their fury as they slashed and hacked.

My men needed no orders or encouragement. With their weapons high over their heads and bloodlust running wild in their veins, they rushed the enemy lines and drenched themselves in fresh, new blood. For the next ten minutes, the battle raged on. Our bodies were pressed against one another, crushing the poor souls unfortunate enough to lose their balance and slip under our boots. Our one and only mage, with sweat drenching his bald head, acted as our troops’ shield against the enemy’s spellcasters. His sole focus were barriers and protection spells. I helped when necessary, using the little sand I still had with me to impede one caster’s vision or cut the throat of another careless one.

By the time we had decimated the opposing side, the previous white and ocher walls had now turned into a deep, gruesome crimson, smelling of death and pain. All windows had shattered, not due to our intervention but because of the wind’s newfound fury. Roaring like the ancient dragons of legends lost, gusts of wind carried with them chunks of walls, poles of wood, and everything they could grasp. It was a vision born straight out of a nightmare’s womb and the rageful seed of the caster of such chaos. My skin curled as silence descended over the hallway and the screams of fear, dread, and pain of the people outside reached our ears.

Every single one of my men seemed to fall into trance as they looked, and pushed to claim a corner of a window and gaze at the testimony of the supremacy of magic over man. They called his name with chocked breath. Some with surprise, others shock, respect, acknowledgment…and fear. “Storm caller” was the one phrase pronounced by all.

The moment was soon over once sounds unknown came from behind the doors. Everyone snapped out of trance and looked at me with waiting eyes. I gave the orders and they stormed the doors. Using swords, spears, and broken furniture, my warriors pried open the locked door and, once it was broken off its hinges, they dragged it down.

Inside stood four people. Two swordsmen with fancy weapons and refined armors of metal with carvings and engravings, a child with pale skin, brown hair, cuts and bruises all over her body, fear beaming like a lighthouse in her eyes, and a knife resting on her neck. Then, finally, the lord. A morbidly fat man with his chin and cheeks touching respectively collarbone and shoulders. He was wearing nothing but an expensive-looking robe, red and white with golden threats creating intricate floral designs. His eyes were round and spineless, devoid of the authority any respectable leader needed to show, instead, cowardly fear met my gaze. Greasy black hair completed that pathetic look, adding to the already despicable lord a new level of shamefulness.

The swordsmen moved in front of the lord, pointing their blades at the closest of my warriors. In moments, most of my troops flooded the huge, royalty-like room, filled with fine furniture of the most precious woods, gold and jewels, mirrors and any other superfluous thing one such spoiled and corrupted noble could gather. I could see it in the eyes of my men. They wanted nothing more than to jump at the lord and guards, tear them limb from limb and bathe in the victory that followed. Yet, they made way, separating in two and sticking to the walls so that I could walk with leisure in between them. Then, I was a mere couple of meters away from the guards while the lord stood on top of his bed right across me. Silence fell once more as my soldiers became spectators, half of them in the room, half out, except for the handful that rose as my guards.

“S-s-stay a-awaway!-” Shouted the obese man with drool and spit flying out of his mouth in a disgusting spectacle “- I’m E-Ethan Vernet Brahet, lord of Blackwall! How dare you intrude my home!”

“Ah, yes-” I replied in a mocking tone and sporting a cheeky smile “- Presentations are in order, I suppose. I’m Ali Salhab Albaster, last descendant of the Albaster royal family and rightful ruler of Blackwall! Ya, unsightly, fat pig, together with ya cursed kingdom, are the ones intruding on my home”

“P-Preposterous!-” Shouted the man becoming livid “- I am the lord! ME AND ONLY ME! I demand you leave a-and never come back, you bandit scum!”

“Else?” I chuckled.

“O-Or else the great and powerful kingdom of Belza will take matters into its hands. My king will send fleets to my rescue and you, and all your p-pitiful, smelly people hiding in the desert, will die!” Replied the fat man full of pride and blind hope in his king.

“Rescue?-” I asked laughing loudly “- No, no, there will be no such thing as a ‘rescue’. There will be nothing to rescue”

“Eh?” Squealed the pig.

“Here’s what I’ll do. First I’ll kill ya fancy guards, then I’ll strip ya of everything ya own, shave ya bald, torture ya until I’m satisfied, parade ya insightful body around town then, and only then, I’ll finally kill ya by letting heatfield devils eat ya alive. How’s that sound?” I asked, causing the two guards to flinch a step back and an excited roar to rise from my men.

“Y-y-you can’t kill me!-” The lord said with trembling voice and hands, drawing a thin line of blood from the poor girl’s neck “- I-I’m holding her hostage. If you try anything, I’ll slit her throat”

The girl cried but was too weak to both shed tears or wriggle in fear. Signs of torture littered her young body, from head to toe, open wounds painted the dirty cloth she wore red. Her pleading eyes were fixed on me. I knew she recognized me, her eyes were begging me to save her, begging me to free her from that man’s hands. But he was too dangerous to simply jump at, sword in hand. A cornered dog is the deadliest. So I clenched my fists and continued to try and talk her way out.

“Indeed-” I said, coughing two times in an attempt to hide the unrest in my voice “- She’s very precious to us, very, very valuable to…my associate. Let’s be real, Lord Brahet, ya’ve lost this battle. I could offer ya a death in dignity, painless and fast if ya are willing to give me that young girl”

“Oh, no, no no-” Replied the man with newfound proudness “- I know everything I need to know about this associate of yours. He’s this girl’s brother, isn’t he? A mage, I heard, the one who killed some of my men and continuously escaped my clutches IN MY OWN CITY! I know how much he cherishes his sister. He won’t touch me! HE CAN’T TOUCH ME AS LONG AS I HAVE HER!”

“What if I tell ya those are all lies?-” I replied in an attempt to stall for time and think of a way to free her “- He values her, sure, but he’s not just a mage, he’s a very strong mage. See that storm outside? That’s his handiwork right there…Would someone that strong really listen to ya?”

“LIES!-” The man shouted, madness now clouding his vision “- I know everything I need to know! How? HAHAHA! I tortured this pretty, little, delicate flower until she told m-”

His words choked in his throat mid-sentence. His eyes went wide, the madness clouding them disappearing instantly, making room for an overwhelming fear. Yellow, smelly liquid flowed down on his legs and drenched the bed below as his limbs stiffened and breathing lost any trace of rhythm.

His guards behaved the same…same as my soldiers and me. We all trembled, shaking in our armors. Time slowed and the air seemed to freeze in my lungs. I felt the weight of a clawed hand tracing marks over my neck as it strangled the air out of me. Pressure, as if the ceiling and the mansion with it were crushing us, pressed against my temples, fuzzing my sight and dimming the colors.

I followed the line of sight of the lord and froze, unable to move no muscle, as I set my eyes on what was the source of the lord’s fear. There, in the very middle of the hallway, was a man I recognized instantly. His whole body was drenched in blood, from head to toe, dripping the crimson liquid with every step. His face was hidden under a mask of shadows. Only two bright spheres of the coldest ice shined ominously in that dark visage. His clothes were torn, showing the countless open wounds on the man’s torso and legs.

With deadly purpose, he walked, inexorably toward his next target.

I, a king and ruler of a ruthless band of warrior pirates, felt compelled to lower my gaze. His name was the only thing filling my blank mind.

[Raphael Bluescale]