“Go bring the other soldiers and the refugees here,” Taalan ordered the two generals and his guards then looked to Elliott. “How long do we have?”

  “It will take an hour or so to reach the city and then however long it takes to make the arrangements with your allies. I’d say two, maybe three hours.”

  Taalan nodded. “Have everyone ready in two.”

  “Your Highness,” Ibonek said. “At least keep a guard or two with you.”

  Taalan raised an eyebrow at the general. “To do what? If they wanted us dead, we’d already be so.”

  “Take Lyla and Isabel with you,” Elliott said to Ibonek. “There are more spies among you. Lyla will take care of them.”

  Ibonek ground his teeth, while Thessa glanced at Lyla as she stood from her seat, ready to go with them. She looked focused, back straight, eyes forward. No hint of remorse or hesitation at what he was asking of her – to kill people that had been her allies until a moment ago. She was ready to do the job and she would do it well. That’s what he sensed from her.

  “Korin told us about the spies,” Thessa said, eyes still on Lyla, “but how do we know she won’t warn them. Or finish the mission that they came for?”

  “Isabel is with you, so she can’t do anything to you. As for warning the others? Does it matter? You don’t even know who they are, but I’m sure you don’t want them hiding among your people. Have a little faith.” He glanced at Lyla. “She’ll get the job done.”

  The two generals pursed their lips but didn’t push further, turning on their heels and walking away, the four guards behind them.

  “Keep an eye on her and them,” Elliott whispered to Isabel. “Also, I need you to leave a message for the Bizaynians. They’re going to know about us now anyway. Might as well make it explicit.”

  Isabel nodded then walked towards Lyla, before both of them followed the others toward the south of the camp. Elliott turned to Rose and Korin and gestured for them to follow him toward the clearing where the refugees had come through earlier.

  As the four of them walked, Rose still used her hovering spell, determined to keep those pretty little silk slippers clean. He sighed.

  “Have you ever heard of mana fatigue, Rose?”

  She glanced at him. “Yes.”

  “What were you taught?”

  “Um…er…well, there’s two ways to experience fatigue?”

  They arrived at the earlier spot and Elliott turned to Rose with Korin and Taalan standing a little to the side.

  “And?”

  “Well,” Rose said, both hands on her staff. “If you channel too much, too quickly and if you channel continuously, then you’re likely to experience fatigue and your mana channels will shut down.”

  “Correct. So, why are you hovering unnecessarily?”

  She blinked at him, then looked at the small gap between her feet and the ground, then back at him with a frown. “I don’t see the connection.”

  “Did you not understand the bit about continuous channelling?”

  “But this barely takes any mana.”

  Elliott raised an eyebrow. “But it is using mana. Your mana channels will eventually shut down until you rest. That’s why mages don’t channel unless they need to, to allow the channels to rejuvenate. But the main reason is because you may find yourself lacking when you actually need the mana. Mana is your greatest resource, and like any resource, it should be used wisely.”

  She nodded as if she understood, but she didn’t drop the spell.

  “There is another aspect to it also,” Elliott continued. “Both myself and a king are willing to walk on this muddy ground. You’re not special, no matter what your titles brought you on Earth. The sooner you realise that, the sooner you’ll become more capable. And you’ll need to, if you ever hope to challenge me.”

  Rose’s eyes widened for a brief moment but she gave him a slight tilt of her head and a tight smile. Then her feet settled to the ground.

  “When the soldiers and refugees arrive,” Elliott continued on. “I need you and Korin to keep them organised. Rows of fifty across at most,” Elliott said as he channelled mana and created a new portal node three times wider than the one he had created before. Korin pushed his spectacles to the bridge of his nose as he nodded at Elliott.

  Elliott then opened a gateway, linking it to the portal node near the dungeon.

  “Your Majesty,” he bowed to Taalan and then gestured to the gateway. Taalan narrowed his eyes before stepping through. Rose created her own flame as Elliott followed Taalan.

  “I hope it’s okay to have some light,” Rose shouted at his back as the gateway closed.

  He looked at Taalan. “Children, eh?”

  The young king smiled, but his eyes were focused on the faint light from the camps near the Temple.

  “Why did you lie about what this is?” Elliott asked.

  “I thought if I told you the truth, you would abandon us.”

  “We made a deal. I gave you my word.”

  “Lots of people make deals. How many keep to them? Especially when they’re as powerful as you?”

  “I’m not lots of people.”

  Taalan met his eyes and after a moment, gave him a small nod. “I’m starting to see that.”

  Elliott turned his eyes to the camp and started walking towards the edge of the forest, Taalan following him.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “So, what’s there?”

  “The Twins,” Taalan replied. “The Goddess Clea, and her brother Cleo.”

  They walked through the trees, footsteps muffled on a carpet of fallen leaves.

  “Three years ago,” Taalan continued, “when my father realised that Rhian may fall, he made a choice. To fake my death. The only others who knew were Daveran and my other three guards. I was sent to this temple. My father believed The Twins would be able to protect me.

  “We knew at the time that The Order of Balance had gained a foothold in the human kingdoms but we didn’t know that they were determined to exterminate The Twins’ followers. Over time, every temple was taken, the followers killed until only this one remained.

  “In an effort to protect their followers, The Twins turned the temple into a dungeon. The followers, including myself were on the last floor. The twentieth, but even that wasn’t enough.”

  They emerged from the forest, dirt and grass for several miles between them and the camps. Elliott stopped there.

  [Conceal]

  [Sanctuary of the Wind]

  [Sentinel Blockade]

  [Nullify Motion]

  He applied the spells the three of them would need to withstand the flight.

  “Three days ago,” Taalan continued. “The Twins called me to them. They told me that it was only a matter of time before the Order made it to the twentieth floor. They told me that they would send me to my people in Tarnov and to await your arrival. We’d been on the lookout for you when your maid found us.”

  “They only sent you and your guards?”

  “With the deaths of their followers, their power has waned. And they still needed to summon you.”

  “And they want me to what? Kill the Order instead?” Elliott asked, turning to Taalan. “Because I could totally do that. But why would I? To help them restart their religion? What’s in it for me?”

  “They never told me exactly what they wanted you for. They did want you to help me save my people and they wanted you to come to them after. What Clea told me is that you have been searching for answers and she has them for you.”

  “That sounds awfully vague,” Elliott cut in.

  Taalan smiled at him. “She said if I told you that she knows why you died, it might convince you to seek her out.”

  Elliott’s eyes shone as he turned back to those faint lights in the distance. A goddess. One that claimed to know why he had died. Oh, this was delightfully delicious. He wasn’t one to get excited usually but the statement was so specific that he was inclined to believe it.

  “Now you understand why I wanted to keep it from you until my people are safe?”

  “I told you,” Elliott replied, “I’m a man of my word. I’ve been waiting almost a hundred and fifty years for answers.” He turned to meet Taalan’s eyes. “What’s a few more hours? Hand.”

  Taalan grabbed Elliott’s offered hand and he [Flew] into the air, accelerating towards the south. The forest blurred beneath them to the left as they flew over flat grassland, the lights of the camps around the temple fading at their backs.

  “Can the gods die?” Elliott asked.

  Taalan was quiet a moment before answering. “Clea told me they are beings of pure mana, but they require followers in the mortal realm to exist. Even with their mortal bodies destroyed, with enough followers they can create new bodies for themselves. But, being of pure mana, without a body, they can be trapped in objects and their raw power can be drained until they cease to exist.”

  “So, the Order killed their followers to weaken them enough to destroy their bodies? They want their power? Why?”

  “We don’t know. I was too young when the Order were turned away by my father. Before the Bizaynian invasion. They wanted to create a base in Rhian, but my father didn’t allow it. He’d heard they were turning people against the gods. That they were spreading that the story of the Covenant of Heroes was a lie. That the Devil King didn’t exist, and that The Twins were using these stories to keep the people enthralled by them.

  “And we’ve heard similar about the other kingdoms. The non-human ones. The elves. The dwarves. The beastkin. The Twins said they hadn’t spoken to the other gods in several years.”

  As the land passed below them, Elliott pondered on Taalan’s answers. Gods. The word alone would make most people shiver, but he’d already died and come back. What else did he have to fear? And besides. These didn’t sound like the kind of gods that could crush him with a thought. If those types even existed. No, these were weak gods if they needed followers to keep them alive. As powerful as they might be, they weren’t powerful enough.

  More interesting was why the Order was after them. And across nations and races, it seemed. Most of all he wondered what it all had to do with him. What was the significance of the pentagram? Why did these Twins decide to summon him. He had a quick glance back though the temple was far out of sight.

  As they flew, small pinpricks of light appeared on the horizon. At first, it was just a handful, then a dozen or so but as they got closer, they saw hundreds of them arranged in tight clusters. Two encampments, separated by half a mile of empty ground.

  Elliott dropped closer to the ground as they flew just above the first encampment, Bizaynian banners swaying in the gentle breeze. Among the tents and campfires, white-clothed healers hastened between wounded soldiers lying on makeshift beds. Thousands of other soldiers were donning armour, sharpening their weapons, practicing drills before joining the ranks of infantry already waiting. Cavalry sat motionless on their horses on either side of the infantry as mounted officers weaved among the various units passing instructions. At the front of the ranks, armoured warriors and mages waited patiently, eyes fixed on the encampment to the south.

  That camp was no more than a third the size of the Bizaynian one. A third of the warriors. A third of the mages. A third of the infantry and cavalry. The only thing they seemed to have more of were the injured but they didn’t have enough healers. It didn’t look good. Most of those would be dead tonight. Among their tents and campfires were banners of a silver horse rearing against a blue background.

  “The Kingdom of Aldren. I didn’t think the Bizaynians would attack so soon. Can we get closer to the tents?” Elliott flew further down, a few metres above the tents and slowed down as Taalan scanned the campsite.

  “There,” Taalan said, pointing at a large tent not unlike the one in the Rhianian’s campsite. “Put us down there please.”

  Outside the tent, a group of armoured officers were in heated discussion, their voices rising above the rest of the sounds in the camp. The tension was palpable even though Elliott couldn’t hear what they were saying. Their movements were animated, hands gesturing tersely, faces tight with strain. To the side, a mage was readying a portal.

  One man wearing plate mail with gold accents stood out from the rest, standing in the middle of the crowd as men on either side of him continued to argue. He was older – silver-haired with round cheeks and a rounder chin. He had broad shoulders that spoke to a time when he might have been a strong warrior, but his belly spoke of another life since – one that had seen too many pies and too many beers.

  Elliott dropped the both of them just ahead of the men and dropped [Conceal] as Taalan removed his signet ring from the inside lining of his ragged shorts. All eyes turned to them, gasps and the odd curse sounding as the armoured men scrambled to draw their weapons.

  “King Cedric,” Taalan said, holding his signet ring. “I am Prince Aldric of House Rhian. Your nephew by marriage. I seek refuge for my people.”

  Cedric squinted at Taalan as he gestured to one of his men to take the signet ring. When he received it, he studied it much like Ibonek had back in the Rhianian camp. Cedric checked the metal, then the bezel, holding it up to the light. He turned back to Taalan, ring in one hand as he stroked his chin with the other.

  “Aldric died three years ago.”

  “I assure you I am very much alive and kicking,” Taalan smiled at Cedric.

  “Your Majesty,” the mage next to the portal called. “We should go. They will attack at any moment.”

  Cedric shot him an irritated glance, but then his features softened. “You’re right.” He looked back to Taalan. “Even if you are who you say you are, I don’t have the time to verify it. As you can see, we’re currently trying to keep the Bizaynians from our door.”

  “Gentlemen,” Elliott cut in. “If I may?”

  All eyes turned to him.

  “Is the problem the army over there?” Elliott asked, pointing in the direction of the Bizaynian camp. “Is that why you don’t have the time?”

  “What do you think?” an officer in the group said. Elliott’s eyes snapped to him. Black hair, goatee beard, slim with less ornate armour than Cedric.

  “I think you should be very careful how you speak,” Elliott said quietly. The man’s gulp was almost audible. Elliott turned back to Cedric. “I’m going to take care of this cockroach infestation you have. While I do that, I need you to speak to your nephew. I have urgent business to attend to. I’d rather not be delayed.”

  “You’re going to take care of them?” Cedric asked. “And how will you do that?”

  “Oh, you’re more than welcome to watch.”

  follow, favourite, rating or review! I am slipping on RS, so reviews would help me move further up! I'd really appreciate if you could take the time to leave one!