Chapter 40: On the Precipice

Priest knew that he probably pushing it. After all, Requiem had just barely fended off an attack on its main base by some of Lore’s strongest mercenaries. But now they were striking back. Priest surveyed his clan as he led them out of the base and into the dim sunlight of late afternoon. They were ragged, tired, underfed, unprepared. But their spirit was still untouched. After all, they had successfully fought off an intense invasion without too much loss. His clan held itself proudly as it marched out into the fading sunlight. As Priest marched at the head of the column of soldiers, he looked at their surroundings ruefully. The battle had left scars upon the lands around them, leaving behind charred stumps of trees and deep gashes in the green earth. Kobi and the 13 Lord of Chaos had a lot to answer for.

In the distance, a small, black figure, running. It gradually grew larger. Priest squinted as he took in the details of the distant figure. It was a messenger from the Guardians of Doom. Cloaked, hooded, and robed in black, it approached at an easy pace, pausing at the head of the Requiem column of troops, falling to one knee before Priest.

“My leader, Lizargeco, would like to inform you that Kobi left his base today at Dawn, leading the main force of the 13 Lord of Chaos army. However, they are moving at a slow pace, and plan on stopping in the city of Wa-Kia before making their final approach towards your base. He would also like to inform you that he is sending two of his men, Oblivion and Lu Bu, to assist you.”

“Anything else?” Blizzard walked up to stand next to Priest, catching most of the messenger’s announcement.

“No, that is all. I will be returning to my base now.” With that, the messenger turned and trotted off at an easy gait, his black cape billowing behind him as he took off into the distance.

“Wa-Kia huh?” Blizzard mused. “Nice place to fight. Narrow streets overlooked by high buildings. We walk in there, half of us will be cut down by archers.”

“That’s why we’d better pick up the pace so we can reach the city before they do.” Priest turned to face the column of soldiers. “Alright, let’s pick up the pace. If we’re fast enough, we can take Wa-Kia before they reach it!” The soldiers cheered and marched twice as fast as before. Though they were weary of battle, the thought of gaining an advantage over their enemy was appealing to them.

-----

As fast as they were, the members of Requiem didn’t reach Wa-Kia until late afternoon. The first thing they saw was a head lying on its side, wide eyed and mouth gaping as it welcomed the clan to the silent streets of Wa-Kia. The column of soldiers skirted the spray of dried blood and caked gore as they entered. The place spoke of silence, not the barren silence of a town half-deserted, but of the deathly silence that could only be broken by the clash of swords and the whine of arrows.

“I’ve been here before,” Blizzard whispered to Priest, not daring to make his voice any louder than that. “I’ve been here, but never have I ever seen this place as quiet as it is now.” Priest didn’t respond. The silence weighed heavily on his mind. Instead, he left Blizzard to lead on as he trudged in silence, brooding over the city that he had last been in the day the ShadowStorm had burned down their old clan base. Suddenly, they passed by a burnt ruin, rotting timbers and broken glass all lying in a single, black heap. Blizzard recognized the address by the old sign lying broken in front of the mess like an outdated caption. It read The Alleble Knights Requiem. It was a grim reminder of their past defeat that Priest could never forget about. He had promised himself that there was no way they were going to lose again like that ever again. Yet here they were, on the precipice of a battle that was very likely to end in a defeat for Requiem.

A few blocks later, they were at the center of Wa-Kia. An old, broken fountain sat in the middle of a circular commons, dusty and dry. Perched on top was the sculpture of a man, armored in light plates and armed with an axe. A crack ran down the middle of its grinning face. Here Blizzard turned around and began to give orders.

“You two, set up a watch over the northern entrance, preferably from one of the old hotel windows on the second floor. Keep an arrow to the string at all times. You two, set up at the southern entrance. Same thing. You two, go back to the western entrance, watch out for two men. One is called Lu Bu and the other is called Oblivion. Both of them should be here soon. Marcus, Creed, take four men with you guys and scout out the old Council halls. It’s the easiest building to defend in the entire city. It looks like this place is deserted, but we can never be sure. Remember that head we saw earlier? Keep a sharp eye, and good luck.” Everyone nodded and marched off to their assigned posts. Then Blizzard turned to face Priest, who was still brooding over the impending battle.

“Lighten up a bit. We have to be ready for this.” Priest shrugged.

“Something’s bothering me about this town. It’s different somehow. That head we saw earlier, that was just recently knocked off, but not too recently. Someone got here before us, and may still be here.”

“Well, I sent out all the search groups, we can’t do much more than to wait for information to reach us. What I’m wondering is where everyone went. Usually there are at least a couple of people getting themselves drunk at the nearest pub. But each bar we passed was closed. You think someone massacred everyone here and then just took off?”

“I don’t know…first thing to do would be to check the Archives. If anyone is still here, they would be there.”

-----

Blizzard and Priest entered the large building at one side of the commons labeled “Archives”. They were greeted by a sleepy man with dark circles under his eyes.

"Welcome to the Grand Archives of Wa-Kia. Here, we information about every fighting, magical, political, merchant, criminal, or mercenary clan that has ever existed. How may I help you?"

Priest sighed. “Hello Al. Still here after all this time?”

“Why hello Rafael. It’s been a long time since we’ve had you here sir. What can I do for you?”

“Al? Rafael? You know this guy?” Blizzard whispered to Priest.

“Yes, his name is Al Gilman. He’s the founder of the Wa-Kia Grand Archives. He knows me by Rafael, my name in these parts.” Priest then turned to the Archive manager. “Have you heard anything recently around here?”

Al shrugged. “I’ve only seen the same old stuff as always. A couple of hours ago, I heard a small fight outside, but it died down. Shortly after that, Earvin Empaces and Derkomai Dreadwing stop by, from the Order of the Dark Wolf.”

“Dark Wolf?”

“They used to be the Order of San Carlos, but for some reason, they changed their name. They’re still in town, I think.”

“Thank you for the info. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Take care.”

-----

The former Council of Grasp building was deemed to be safe, if a little dusty, so Blizzard and Priest made their way over. On their way, Priest filled Blizzard in.

“The Order of San Carlos used to be one of the strongest clans out there. Along with Fire’s Order and the Alleble Knights, they were probably among the top clans fighting for Good out there. I’m glad that they’re still around.”

“You think they’re the one that put that head at that entrance?”

“Probably. I bet there’s a head at all of the other entrances as well.” Sure enough, two men entered the dusty halls of the Council building at that moment, each one waving a severed head. “Told you, Blizzard. That’s their work. These heads belong to Chaos Guards. See? One of them still has a Chaos eye on the side of its face.”

Blizzard turned away, waving the two men away. “Ok, so there’s proof that someone friendly is here. But are they still here?”

Marcus entered the halls. “Priest, Blizzard. Someone’s here to talk to you guys.”

Outside was a woman in a dark suit of armor, a black cloak waving in the late afternoon breeze. Long, dark hair cascaded down her back, a pair of pointed ears sticking out from beneath the waves of black. Red eyes glinted from a shapely, pale face.

Blizzard recognized her at once. “Derkomai. We’ve met before.”

“Yes, in the Archives. It was a minor incident I suppose. I only remember your face.”

“And the same with you. What brings you here?” Derkomai took out a rather large bundle from beneath her black cloak and dropped it on the ground. It was a bundle of heads, tied together by the hair on the back of their heads.

“My leader, Earvin Empaces, bids you salutations and warns you that the clan known as the 13 Lord of Chaos is here. We have fought with them out of necessity, but are now taking the chance to exit while the winds still favor us. Their numbers are great, and I…I mean, we, have only managed to slay some of their preliminary scouts and guards. Their vanguard is still untouched.”

“Thank you for this information, but why do you tell us this?”

“Earvin would like to remind you of our past alliance, and asks if you would like to renew that alliance with him. We send you this information as a gift to show our honest intentions.”

Priest nodded. “I know Earvin well, and I agree to the alliance. Bid your leader thanks from me for aiding us in our fight.”

Derkomai blushed a little. Just a little. “Thank you for your kindness, and good luck with your battle. We look forward to a victory for Requiem.” Priest nodded once more, and Derkomai took off at a sprint, leaving behind the bundle of heads.

“Well, that settles the question of who our secret friends are. Now we just have to worry about where our secret enemy is.”

“Does that mean we get to fight?” Priest and Blizzard turned around. There stood Megan and Dawn, both with hands on their hips. Or rather, one of Megan’s hands was on her hips while the other clutched an ice cream, while Dawn’s skeletal arms were wrapped around her neck in a grisly black and white necklace, while a pair of magical red replacements glowed slightly as they rested on her hips. These arms were a courtesy of Priest, who was able to conjure a ghostly replica of Dawn’s original arms based on the little bit of life left in their bones. Dawn’s glistening white right arm and charred black left one were intertwined around her neck, supplying the source of energy for a pair of magical arms that perfectly replicated the strength, speed, and sensitivity of Dawn’s original ones. She was eager to fight as ever.

Blizzard smiled as he surveyed his sister, unburdened by the addition of her bony necklace. Her eagerness was infectious, and he felt his blood rising at the thought of battle. “Yes, we get to fight.”

-----

Saint scanned the horizon from atop a hill near the 13 Lord of Chaos base. The base itself was on fire, slowly giving off a stench as it was consumed by flames cast by Dye and Fire. Around it, peat and will-o-wisps lit up the bog. The entire valley was cloudy with smoke. The smell burned Saint’s nostrils, but he ignored the feeling, instead staring into the distance with dark eyes, fighting through the gathering gloom of dusk. There, off to the right. A small wisp of smoke. As Saint watched, the smoke began to erupt thickly from somewhere beyond the edge of sight.

“Creed. Can you see what’s making that smoke over there?” Saint pointed, and Creed spread his great black wings and soared away.

A few minutes later, he returned. “It’s the city of Wa-Kia. You know, the one with the big archive on all the clans?” Saint nodded, almost afraid to ask.

“Is it on fire?”

“Yes. You can barely hear the sounds of two armies fighting each other. There’s a battle going on there. Wa-Kia burns.”