The formation held and they had lost no ground. There would have been no way for the Void to make it through. Reasoning aside, the Horn continued to sound as Raegn chased his mentor through the remainder of the formation, a golden dew left by their footprints and their eyes aglow. The gate cracked opened when they neared and a man in piecemeal armor waved them on.
“My lords, there are voidlings in the city!” The guard captain declared.
“Keep the gate shut!” Ulrich ordered as they crossed the threshold. “We’ll lock them in with us. And notify the western gatehouse! We must not allow them to slip through!”
The guard captain saluted smartly and ordered one of his men to cross the city to the far gate. Ulrich had barely paused to give the order before continuing onward. Raegn stayed on the Old Bear’s heels, attempting to ignore his own labored breathing. Were he given more time to rest after his last fight the run out of the valley wouldn’t have been so tiring. As things were, though, he used a touch more Light to mask his aching muscles and push the fatigue into the back of his mind.
Deeper into the city’s labyrinth of tiered cobbled streets they came across a lone warrior fighting off half a dozen voidlings, several women and children fleeing in the opposite direction. The warrior stood his ground, focused on preventing a single enemy from passing but unable to land a killing blow. Raegn and Ulrich took the enemy by surprise, attacking from the flank and cutting them down.
“Thank you, my lords,” the warrior said between heaving shoulders.
“Tell us where these came from!” Raegn demanded. The words came out like an accusation rather than a question, but his agitation at the invasion of his home left him unable to soften his tone.
The warrior furrowed his brow. “It would be easier to show than describe, my lords. Follow me, it’s just this way.”
They tailed the man down the street the way the voidlings had come, then made a sudden left into an open area connected by a thin alley. The plaza looked to have been unused for the better part of a year based on the dirt that had settled between the stones. At its center an elliptical ring as tall as two men floated just above the ground. The disc glowed a deep violet at the edge, the middle an abyss that drew in the illumination around it. Raegn’s jaw dropped at the sight of the thing as hissing tendrils periodically lashed out from the edges and scored the nearby walls.
“Light, help us,” Ulrich muttered.
“Is that...a portal?” Raegn asked. There was something about it, that endless black, that drew him in. He started to circle it, but no matter what angle he viewed it from it always presented the same appearance. The disc wasn’t rotating and appeared thin rather than ovoid, yet the ellipse was visible from every side. A tendril whipped out and left a scorch mark in the dirt near his feet, halting his steps.
“I’ve never doubted the legends,” Ulrich whispered, “but hoped that I would never see this in my lifetime.”
“My lords?” Their attention was brought back to the warrior. The man shied away, shuffling back toward the entrance to the plaza. “What shall we do?”
Raegn looked to Ulrich but the Old Bear gazed into the black disc.
“How many more are there?” Ulrich asked, not taking his eyes off the portal.
“I’ve no idea, my lord. But I’ve heard screams in other parts of the city.”
Ulrich seemed as fascinated by it than Raegn was, but the Old Bear spoke calmly. “Head to the western wall, fast as you can. Tell them Lord Aldway has ordered all citizens to evacuate. To the villages for now, not Bulwark. Grab any warriors you find along the way and take them to defend the gate. Let no Void through.”
“And you, my lords?” The warrior had already taken a few steps backward out of the plaza, eager to escape the portal.
Raegn was taken by surprise when Ulrich turned to him. He struggled to come up with some sort of plan but had never considered having to fight within the city walls. A blockade of the streets wouldn’t be effective, there were too many alleyways and paths to account for. Running through the city like Sentinels scouting was another option, though unlikely considering most of the Sentinels would already be in the valley or protecting the keep as part of the Elite Guard.
“We will defend Bastion,” Ulrich stated.
Raegn furrowed his brow at the simplicity of the words, but the warrior nodded and ran out of the market square. He let their former guide disappear around the corner before he was willing to speak. “So what, we wait until something comes through?” he asked.
“We could, but if there are more of these I don’t want to be stuck here,” Ulrich replied. “Yet we cannot allow this blight to contaminate our city.” The Old Bear’s eyes turned white. His voice, though distorted slightly, was still calm. “In the tales of our forefathers, portals were closed—sealed, by the Light.”
Raegn knew the legends arguably better than most, but most were little more than stories. The ones that could be attributed to an actual account of a heroic act were laughably few no matter how much he wished it otherwise. Until this battle, the one truth the entire Realm knew was that the Void War had been over for centuries and all that remained were remnants that trickled towards their pass. That truth was rapidly tearing apart. Portals would mean the Void hadn’t been defeated; that darkness could still enter the Realm as it pleased.
“Ulrich you know as much as I that the two do not mix well,” Raegn cautioned, fingers tracing the wound along his temple and silently cursing as he realized he’d left his helm in the valley.
“It’s rare that we see Light and Void meet as you did in the pass. Regardless, this portal looks more like a barrier, and barriers don’t explode, they simply break.” Ulrich stepped toward the portal, raising one hand and manifesting an orb of Light. “Do you remember the story of Camael sealing the Great Portal?” The Old Bear’s tone deepened and rang off the walls of the plaza from the power he held within. “They say it took him nearly a whole day. To me, that tale reveals that sealing is nothing more than the Light overpowering the Void.”
Raegn shook his head as he recalled the legend. “Yes, I remember the story Ulrich, but Camael was an Archangel, we don’t have a whole day, and who knows the actual truth of those old tales! I admit I often overvalue them, but even I know most are exaggerated!”
Raegn took several steps towards his mentor. This was foolish. If it blew up it would kill them both! As he approached the portal made a horrid gurgle and a ripple grew outward from its center. Raegn watched several voidlings leap through, each slowed as they crossed into the human realm like there was a tension to the edge of the abyss.
“Kill them, then! I will seal it!” Ulrich bellowed.
The voidlings bounded towards the old warrior, the first finding naught but a spear through its side to drive it away. Raegn rotated around and flung the body into the next before sending a thrust down the throat of another. It coughed, spattering black blood up his arms before going limp.
As he withdrew his spear he saw a beam of Light directed at the center of the black disc from the corner of his eye. It impacted and, despite being continuously channeled, seemed to disappear into the nothingness. Movement to his right demanded his attention. Raegn lifted his spear in time to catch two claws aimed for his chest, the force pushing him back. Letting the momentum take him, he rolled onto his back and delivered a kick that sent the beast overhead into the wall with a sickening crack. He swung his spear along the ground as he rose and hacked through the front legs of the last voidling before delivering a killing blow to the maimed creature’s head.
He turned to face the portal and braced for more enemies. To his surprise, Ulrich’s technique looked to be working. The continuous beam that once ended in the inky black now grew outward from the middle like the roots of a tree. The beam thickened as Ulrich drew in more Light, streams of golden-white swirling down his arm into the orb and the roots growing faster and thicker in turn. When they reached the edge and filled out the disc the portal waned. It became nearly see-through and, while Raegn blinked, disappeared entirely. Ulrich relaxed his stance and dropped his arm, head titled back towards the sky. Raegn stood some distance away, eyes unable to choose between the non-existent portal and his mentor.
“As I thought,” Ulrich said.
“As you guessed,” Raegn retorted.
The Old Bear chuckled. “Not willing to give me any praise?”
“I just want you to realize you’ve gone mad in your old age,” Raegn said through a grin.
“You cannot abandon the city!” Raegn snarled, furious that Lord Ewald would even consider such a course of action. “Evacuate the citizens for safety, of course, but this is our duty! We exist for this fight!” He nearly broke his finger with how hard he pressed it into the table to accentuate his point.
“The battle in the pass rages on and we have yet to see an end to them,” Ewald replied. “Ten thousand was only an estimate, it would seem. We no longer have fresh forces. We will continue to tire until we all fall.”
The man had a long black beard that hung to his chest and rested on a gut that had grown fat from too much ale. Ewald might have been a warrior once, but the man no longer fought due to an injury to his leg over a decade ago that left him with a permanent limp. Raegn could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. How dare someone who didn’t fight suggest that the ones who did retreat!
“So call everyone back to the city! We’ll hold them at the gate!” he argued.
Lord Leonhardt spoke this time, his armor darkened by the blood of the Void and juxtaposed against his shaved head shining in the light from the braziers.
“Despite our efforts, we have a limited number of troops capable of closing the portals as you and Ulrich have, Lord Raegn. Even when we manage to close one, it seems that another opens elsewhere. It’s impossible to say if we could ever close them all.” Lord Leonhardt sighed and pushed two red wooden discs onto opposite ends of the map. “If stay within the city we would be fighting around portals while defending two gates: one to stop Void from getting in and the other to prevent them from getting out. Even holding only the western gate amounts to us laying siege to our own city for a full fortnight until reinforcements arrive. If they arrive.”
Raegn knew Lord Leonhardt had not been in the pass, but given the state of his appearance he had likely fought in the streets of Bastion since the sounding of the Horn, defending those evacuating. The man had a warm voice like that of a hearth and had always spoken candidly. Raegn couldn’t help but unclench his jaw at the steady tone. He had no malice in his heart for Rollo Leonhardt. The man was the Lord of Coin, charged with keeping an entire city fed and its army equipped when Bastion had no exports to fund itself. It was one of the heaviest responsibilities in the city and somehow Rollo still maintained his prowess as a warrior. The man probably never slept. It was no wonder that Raelle had been trying to take some of that burden.
“Our best warriors are fatiguing,” Rollo continued. “If I’m not mistaken, the only reason you and Ulrich are here instead of continuing to fight is because of your own exhaustion.”
Raegn’s eyes narrowed, but the man spoke the truth. He’d lost count of how many portals they’d closed; how many voidlings and voidborne they’d slain. He had crude bandages on every limb and most had red seeping through. Sweat had long since soaked every non-metal garment he wore and, with his heart rate finally slowing, the cool air within the keep threatened to take away what vigor he had left.
“No one faults you, of course, Lord Raegn,” Lord Leonhardt said with a placating hand. Rollo probably anticipated a heated response, but Raegn didn’t have the energy. “You and Ulrich have fought the longest of us all and, to my knowledge, are the first in recent history to perform feats that are only heard of in legend. I bring up your presence here only to highlight that we are,” Rollo cleared his throat, “the city is, reaching its limit.”
“If we abandon the city we place all our hope in a single outcome: that we can hold a single gate against a growing onslaught. One breach and the Void will reach the lands of humankind. We will have failed.” Ulrich’s words were a welcome interruption to Rollo’s logic.
Raegn looked at the Old Bear, but Ulrich’s eyes were steady on the Lord of Bastion as he spoke. The man on the throne continued to look at the ground in front of him. Had he not heard?
“What say you, my Lord?” Ulrich insisted.
Lord Aerich sat, unmoving. Raegn looked to his father and tried to recall the stalwart leader he had been. Black hair fell over Aerich’s face, hiding wrinkles older than his years. Shoulders hung low instead of up and proud. Pale skin had lost its radiance and one sleeve of a loose shirt hung empty. Perhaps this was too much for his father. Perhaps Raegn should’ve listened to Ulrich and taken over the duties of the throne years ago rather than fight. He hadn’t, though, and a decision must be made. Every moment spent waiting meant the death of another warrior.
“Father!” he called.
The voice of his son seemed to rouse Aerich from his daze and his head turned to look down at Raegn. The Lord of Bastion hesitated as if he were trying to recall some far off thought, but it didn’t come. When Aerich finally did speak the words were soft, yet surprisingly deliberate.
“Ulrich, take ten of the Elite Guard and secure the Horn. I will send Raegn to you when the time comes. Lord Leonhardt, send another message to Elysium by bird and find the fastest horse we have. Have both spur forward any reinforcements with all haste. If they are not already en route when the rider reaches the city then have them tell the Church of what happened here.”
“No! Father, you of all people must understand our charge!” Raegn pleaded.
Aerich raised his hand. “We will not allow the Void through. We will hold the western gate but cede all other ground.”
His father continued to look in Raegn’s direction, but the eyes were gray and empty of life. A chorus of agreement from the other lords rang through the room before they gathered the warriors lining the walls and headed back out into the city.
“Raegn, my son.” Raegn halted his move towards the door but left his back to his father. “I have a final task to attend to that requires your attendance.”
Raegn turned to reluctantly follow his father as the man shuffled towards the hall at the back of the room. He made it three steps before thick arms forcibly spun him around and he found himself staring into the savage eyes of the Bear of Bastion.
“There is more in this world than our struggle against the Void,” Ulrich growled. “It is no small sacrifice to give yourself to this fight. Protect your father, then find me at the Horn. We will have much discuss when the battle is won.”
Before Raegn could muster a question Ulrich broke away, ten warriors forming around him as they strode through the large wooden doors and back into the fray.
