Midaharia capital city of Ras Almal

All was quiet within the capital’s walls. Most of its citizens had either retired to their homes or were making plans to. Emperor Taimoor was no exception.

The fact that his trusted generals and hundreds of devoted soldiers were defending their nation’s border wasn’t enough to keep him awake. Not even the meticulous battle updates made by one of his many war strategists, Qahir, could pique his interest.

“They could be fighting well into the morning,” Qahir said as he accompanied the emperor and an entourage of personal guards. An intricate row of semicircular arches and grand columns that could have easily been built for giants stood proudly as the emperor passed under them.

Simpler stone walls pierced with floral patterns awaited as they approached the royal resting place. A repetitious day of conversing with common people in common places over common complaints was enough to tire the old emperor.

“More reinforcements will be needed, sir,” Qahir continued.

“Ensure that every need is addressed then,” the emperor responded as they reached his private chambers. “Good night, Qahir.”

“Rest well, sir,” Qahir said, as the door closed before him.

No one but the emperor was allowed inside his chambers; not even his bodyguards who would spend another night shielding his door instead.

Security torches burnt around the compound, spotting the floor with starry patterns etched into curved windows. Taimoor kicked off his slippers and disrobed. Relaxing between fine sheets and luxurious bedding, the emperor quickly dozed off.

 

Ahrman empire capital city of Parigrah

Anxious was never a word one would use to describe the Ahrman capital. But after the destruction of Haggard and the king’s departure for battle, many in the city sat on pins and needles.

Even with its lonely streets, Parigrah was never so quiet during the mid summer’s evening. Nightbirds were silent; insects were relaxed; the air was as still as the trees; it was as if nature was holding its breath.

The only part of the silence that concerned Sisten was the absence of mounted patrols. There was no excuse for tardiness on this night. Parigrah was a big metropolis. He couldn’t be everywhere at once.

His concerns were eased when a rider slowly approached. But as he closed in Sisten noticed the man was slumped over in his saddle. He grabbed the horse’s reins, urging it to halt.

“What happened to you?” Sisten asked, pulling the man off his saddle. His steel plate was crushed onto his bloody chest. The wounded man grabbed Sisten’s shoulder, fluid streaming out of his mouth.

“S..save..the queen...” he sighed, his chest deflating as his arm fell to the ground.

The horse quickly departed, fleeing the advancing sounds of lumbering footsteps and chains being dragged along the pavement.

 

At the southern border with Midaharia

Positioned hundreds of yards away from the capital’s exterior wall, the Midaharian army anticipated a hasty visit by their Ahrmanian counterparts. But as the evening grew colder, that anticipation dwindled.

Some of the soldiers put their shields to use by resting their heads on them and stealing a few winks. Until their snores reached General Badr’s ears.

“On your feet, you lazy bums!” he scolded, kicking their legs. “The enemy could bear down on us at any moment!” That’s what he expected, but even the general’s eyes had grown heavy with exhaustion.

He shifted his attention to another soldier returning from the field. “Still no sign of the Ahrman?” Badr asked.

“None so far, sir,” the young soldier replied.

“Have they descended on Lahan’s position?”

“Yes, sir, they have.”

Perhaps the emperor’s advisors gave the Ahrman too much credit. This was the shortest route to the capital; it made more sense for them to pressure his position.

“Some of you head over there to assist him.”

“General Badr! General Badr!” called a frantic voice, grabbing Badr’s attention.

“What is it, man? Did you run all the way from the capital?”

“The capital!” the soldier gasped, stopping to catch a breath or two. “The capital is under attack!”

“By Ahrman?! How could they have slipped by us!?”

“No! Not them! It’s Ophidias!

 

Northern border between Midaharia and Ahrmania

Soldiers fought well into the night. Neither side was eager to concede. For the Midaharians, conceding meant the death of their precious emperor, maybe even the occupation of their territory.

The Ahrman weren’t about to return to their capital and wait for the war-hungry Taimoor to wipe out another city. There was too much Ahrman blood on his hands as far as the king was concerned.

He only wished he had acted before Haggard and all its people were lost.

As the Midaharian general bravely defended the emperor from the royal guard’s lust for vengeance, not one or the other were prepared to lose.

The Ahrman Lieutenant Alba sauntered past swinging steel and thrusting spears as if they were bees in a garden. With his hands concealed under a flowing cape, Alba approached Lahan and Breuke as they dueled.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Your attention, please.”

Breuke stayed his blade. “Lieutenant?”

“I’ve solved all of your problems, men,” Alba said.

“Lieutenant!” said Tasha, running up to the trio. “You’re supposed to be back at the capital! Has something happened?!”

“Much has happened.” Alba tossed Taimoor’s severed head at her feet. “You can have that.”

Lahan’s eyes widened. “The emperor!”

“Calm down,” Alba urged, rolling the head of King Lisadore III to Lahan. “That’s for you.”

“King Lisador!” Breuke shouted.

“Alba! What have you done!?” Tasha exclaimed, dropping to her knees.

“Now that those two are out of the way, I implore all of you to bring Aiden to me.”

“Have you gone mad?!” Breuke fumed. “Why’d you killed the king?!”

“To Hell with Lisadore! I will rip your skull out for what you’ve done to Taimoor!” Lahan said, sending an angry wave of ice Alba’s way. His attack shatters before reaching its target.

With his sword drawn, the Midaharian general rushed the unwavering Ahrman lieutenant. An invisible force countered his charge, sending the Lahan spiraling back through the air for yards.

“You’re not getting away with this!” Tasha growled, rushing toward the Lieutenant. But a powerful tremor underground knocked her off her feet.

This is not the response I wanted from you,” Alba stated. “If you’re not going to obey me, then you all can die by your leaders’ side!”

Shaking continuously, a tear formed in the earth beneath them. Skeletal hands rose from the cracks, gradually pulling their bodies from the depths below. Armed with curved short swords and shields of skulls, hundreds of fleshless bodies rose to the surface, bathed in the same purple aura stirring in Alba’s eyes.

The battlefield quickly filled with a sinister new army.

 

Khalina Island

With sand between his toes and ocean water slapping against his ankles, Jaff watched the stars gradually fade from the sky. Puffs of smoke rose from a hookah tucked in his mouth. How many more sunrises were left before eternal damnation reigned over the planet?

"That's not very healthy," Aiden said, walking up to him.

"The last time I smoked one of these was when your father learned he was having a son," Jaff replied.

Aiden kicked off his boots and sat next to Jaff. "Didn't my mom and dad know about the...about what Misheal wrote? Weren't they afraid of having...me?"

"Your father didn't believe in it and your mother, I don't think she cared. She wanted a family, no matter what."

"Oh." Aiden splashed his feet in the water. "I wish I could have met them."

"So do I," Jaff said, inhaling from his hookah.

"I told them about Farah. They're going to have a funeral for her in a few days. We're invited to stay."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes. For now, at least." He stood up and wiped the sand from his legs. "Uncle Jaff, I'm going to start practicing using my powers. I know it freaks you out, but you have to trust me. I won't lose control."

"Aiden," Jaff said, clutching the young man's hand. "I love you."

"I know, Uncle Ja--!" Aiden's words were interrupted when a sharp blade pierced his chest. His eyes widened as Jaff drove the weapon through his heart.

"I'm sorry, Aiden!" Jaff said, clutching his nephew's lifeless body. "Please, forgive me!"

"Don't remove the weapon!" Mishael ordered as she and two other women approach them. "The instrument of his death must stay where it is, or he'll revive instantly."

"You're certain this will work?" Jaff said, his eyes watering.

"Take the body," Mishael ordered the two women.

Jaff held Aiden tightly. "Are you certain this will keep Damnation at bay?!"

"Only after Aiden's been properly mummified. We need to get started as soon as possible."

Mishael's confident words were enough to convince him that killing his nephew was for the best; the only way to save the world from eternal damnation. If Aiden became a vessel for the evil rune it would have unlimited power. And Aiden couldn't be allowed to master the corruptive power in his veins. There was no way he could hold on to his sanity.

He was lost either way and the world would suffer for it.

There was no other way, was there?

"No!" Jaff told the women, brushing them away. Cheeks damped by grief, pain, and guilt, Jaff kept Aiden close to him and rose to his feet.

I'll take him.