most.
“Your people begged for blood-soaked justice,” Shoa said. “Cast the blame before their feet, not mine.”
Syric screamed. Shoa turned, worried for his comrade, and in that brief moment Harruq plunged Condemnation into the angel’s chest. Shoa lurched forward, blood leaking from beneath his armor. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Harruq let go of the blade, and he stepped away to avoid the blood. Shoa staggered, then crumpled sideways and lay still. The noise of battle quieted, both angels defeated, and the ensuing silence was deafening.
Harruq dropped to his knees before the body, and he felt his arms go limp. Lying dead before him was one of the angels his own prayer had summoned, the saviors who had emerged from a rupture in the sky to assault Thulos’s demons. An angel who had fought time and again to defend Dezrel, giving everything to war in the skies above Avlimar so Harruq might have time to defeat the war god.
An angel Harruq had murdered.
“What have I done?” Harruq asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Deathmask joined his side, and he knelt before the angel’s body. Two tugs, and Condemnation slid out. Using the bottom of his cloak, Deathmask cleaned off the blood, tossed the sword to the ground.
“No one will know,” he said, fire wreathing his hands. With a touch, the fire spread to the angel’s corpse. “They will search for their missing, and when they find them, they will place the blame on my shoulders.”
Harruq retrieved Condemnation, slid both swords into their sheaths, and slowly stood. Mouth dry, legs weak, he watched the fire consume the corpse, turning flesh to bone and cloth to ash.
“This never should have happened,” he said.
Deathmask clapped him on the shoulder.
“A lot of things never should have happened, but they have, and now we’re stuck with the mess. Go back to the city, Harruq. Go back, and this time keep your eyes open to what’s truly happening to this world. From the lowest of rogues, to the steward of the realm, no one is safe.” Deathmask snapped his fingers, extinguishing the fire. “It seems mercy’s been replaced with judgment in this dark hour, and all of us suffer the cost.”
Harruq watched the two vanish into the ruins of Avlimar. He tried telling himself the man was wrong, that things weren’t so dire. The angels were still a force of good. They were still protectors of mankind.
The sound of wings. Harruq glanced up to see two more angels land and stare at the charred corpses in horror.
“What happened here?” one of the angels asked.
Harruq swallowed down a lump in his throat and answered with the truth.
“They found Deathmask,” he said. “And because of it, they died.”
The angels took to the air, calling for more of their brethren to form search parties. Harruq let them be. On his entire walk back to Mordeina, he could think of nothing but the fury in Shoa’s eyes, and his utter disgust at the notion that a lowly mortal such as Harruq might give orders to an angel.
7
D espite the danger, despite the swarming hordes of vile creatures threatening every mile of their journey south, Dieredon still ensured Jessilynn trained each day with her bow. Jessilynn found the dedication both admirable and insane.
“I still miss hitting stuff standing still,” she said as she walked alongside the elf. Her bow was drawn, and she held an arrow loosely to the string. “What’s the point in shooting while moving?”
“Because we can’t afford to stand still,” Dieredon said. “Given the nature of our foes, you will find rare opportunities for clean, unhurried shots. Learning to aim while jostled and moving will prove invaluable.”
They walked a dirt road surrounded by tall yellow grass leading toward the Castle of the Yellow Rose. The road continued on for several miles ahead, ending at a distant forest. They’d sent the survivors of many villages that direction, and Jessilynn was relieved they’d found no
“Your people begged for blood-soaked justice,” Shoa said. “Cast the blame before their feet, not mine.”
Syric screamed. Shoa turned, worried for his comrade, and in that brief moment Harruq plunged Condemnation into the angel’s chest. Shoa lurched forward, blood leaking from beneath his armor. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Harruq let go of the blade, and he stepped away to avoid the blood. Shoa staggered, then crumpled sideways and lay still. The noise of battle quieted, both angels defeated, and the ensuing silence was deafening.
Harruq dropped to his knees before the body, and he felt his arms go limp. Lying dead before him was one of the angels his own prayer had summoned, the saviors who had emerged from a rupture in the sky to assault Thulos’s demons. An angel who had fought time and again to defend Dezrel, giving everything to war in the skies above Avlimar so Harruq might have time to defeat the war god.
An angel Harruq had murdered.
“What have I done?” Harruq asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Deathmask joined his side, and he knelt before the angel’s body. Two tugs, and Condemnation slid out. Using the bottom of his cloak, Deathmask cleaned off the blood, tossed the sword to the ground.
“No one will know,” he said, fire wreathing his hands. With a touch, the fire spread to the angel’s corpse. “They will search for their missing, and when they find them, they will place the blame on my shoulders.”
Harruq retrieved Condemnation, slid both swords into their sheaths, and slowly stood. Mouth dry, legs weak, he watched the fire consume the corpse, turning flesh to bone and cloth to ash.
“This never should have happened,” he said.
Deathmask clapped him on the shoulder.
“A lot of things never should have happened, but they have, and now we’re stuck with the mess. Go back to the city, Harruq. Go back, and this time keep your eyes open to what’s truly happening to this world. From the lowest of rogues, to the steward of the realm, no one is safe.” Deathmask snapped his fingers, extinguishing the fire. “It seems mercy’s been replaced with judgment in this dark hour, and all of us suffer the cost.”
Harruq watched the two vanish into the ruins of Avlimar. He tried telling himself the man was wrong, that things weren’t so dire. The angels were still a force of good. They were still protectors of mankind.
The sound of wings. Harruq glanced up to see two more angels land and stare at the charred corpses in horror.
“What happened here?” one of the angels asked.
Harruq swallowed down a lump in his throat and answered with the truth.
“They found Deathmask,” he said. “And because of it, they died.”
The angels took to the air, calling for more of their brethren to form search parties. Harruq let them be. On his entire walk back to Mordeina, he could think of nothing but the fury in Shoa’s eyes, and his utter disgust at the notion that a lowly mortal such as Harruq might give orders to an angel.
7
D espite the danger, despite the swarming hordes of vile creatures threatening every mile of their journey south, Dieredon still ensured Jessilynn trained each day with her bow. Jessilynn found the dedication both admirable and insane.
“I still miss hitting stuff standing still,” she said as she walked alongside the elf. Her bow was drawn, and she held an arrow loosely to the string. “What’s the point in shooting while moving?”
“Because we can’t afford to stand still,” Dieredon said. “Given the nature of our foes, you will find rare opportunities for clean, unhurried shots. Learning to aim while jostled and moving will prove invaluable.”
They walked a dirt road surrounded by tall yellow grass leading toward the Castle of the Yellow Rose. The road continued on for several miles ahead, ending at a distant forest. They’d sent the survivors of many villages that direction, and Jessilynn was relieved they’d found no
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