Solace and Nox: A New Light

Chapter 33

Raiden wasn't going to get used to this kind of transportation any time soon. Travelling by smoke, it was too much. Cytra seemed to act normal every time it occurred, but for Raiden, it was quite unnatural.

Then again, nothing that had happened the last few days was natural.

Moldark, Cytra, Ebony, and three other cloaked figures stood on a grassy hill. Raiden, weak and frail, was limp in the arms of the unknown men. They looked out over a beautiful valley. A river cut through the grassy fields, and several tall trees stood individually, scattered all around the spacious valley. The sky was beginning to turn an orange color, as the sun began to set behind the horizon.

Moldark stood strong and proud, with Ebony to his left, and Cytra to his right. The three of them stared out at the beautiful, and somewhat familiar scene. Moldark was talking, but he couldn't quite hear what he was saying. His head throbbed, despite the quick healing he had received the night before.

Raiden couldn't help but admire Cytra. She was skilled. She adapted so well to her powers, and has been able to use them to her advantage, creating the ultimate sense of power. She was able to get Moldark Rathmore, of all people, to trust her. Raiden imagined that must have been difficult to do. Moldark was one of the most dangerous beings Raiden had ever encountered. In fact, he was the worst.

But most of all, Cytra was beautiful. When others saw her... well no one saw her. She liked it that way. She lived in the shadows, but Raiden believed she was in there for far too long. The moment he met her, he saw a light. He knew she wouldn't kill him that night, and it was because there was something inside her holding her back. Some speck of good kept her from slaying Raiden, and Raiden wanted to bring that out.

He believed he finally had.

She was willing to help him. He didn't want to put her in danger, but she insisted on going through with a plan...

That she didn't share with Raiden.

Raiden was in the dark. Cytra had the light that would lead Raiden down the right path, but she insisted it wasn't time to reveal that light. She knew once that light was lit, Moldark would never stop coming. He would do everything he could to destroy Raiden and Cytra.

But it was a risk they were willing to take. Together.

The men dropped Raiden, and he fell face first into the grass. Normally, Raiden would love to lay in the grass, and just stare at the sky for hours. Right then, he didn't. When someone is in pain, they tend to think about everything that is hurting their body. All the bruises and cuts on Raiden's body were felt, the rough landing on the ground was felt, and each individual blade of grass that tickled his body was tangible.

Raiden lifted his head just enough to get a look at the three cloaked men. They each varied in size. One was very large and muscular, while the smallest one appeared to be very agile. The middle one appeared to be about average height and size.

"Moldark," one said with a deep and gravelly voice. "Are we ready to move on?"

Moldark turned to face Raiden. Raiden may have been incapable of a fight, but he steeled himself, trying to make himself appear more strong than he really was. He didn't let those demonic yellow eyes intimidate him.

"No," he said slyly. "We'll wait until nightfall. We don't want Raiden here to absorb the light of the sun."

Cytra didn't seem fazed by this at all. Did that affect her plan? Was Raiden supposed to use the sun to his advantage, or did Cytra have something else in mind? What was she thinking?

"We'd better meet up with the Kresallis before then," Ebony suggested. "They'll need to know the plan before they charge Shodon without us."

Raiden, face on the ground, was shocked by that statement. He didn't realize how large-scale this attack was going to be. Moldark didn't just plan on killing Lotharius. Like Cytra said, he was planning to massacre the Shodoni people. He would bring havoc and destruction everywhere he went with his army, and his dark powers. With someone like Cytra on his side, Raiden could see why he was so confident. He believed that she was loyal, and she was powerful. She was the perfect tool.

Which made whatever Cytra had planned that much more dangerous.

"You're right," he responded. "Let's go. Don't forget the prisoner."

The same two men came and picked Raiden up and began dragging him down the hill. They literally dragged him. Moldark obviously didn't care if his prisoners were in good condition before he executed them.

Raiden's green uniform was stained with blood. The shirt was ripped in several places, and the pant legs were getting ruined, due to the dragging. Luckily, his belt was still in tact.

Moldark and Cytra led the group down the hill and through the familiar valley. As they walked through--or got dragged through--the valley, Raiden suddenly realized why it was so familiar. They were only a couple miles outside of the Shodoni walls. The Kresallis were ready for battle.

In a matter of minutes, after climbing over another hill, Raiden could see hundreds, no, thousands, of blue-violet skinned warriors. There were portable grindstones that blacksmiths used to sharpen the soldiers' weapons, and others who worked on improving armor. The Kresallis were agile. They could do standing flips over their enemy, and easily stab them in the back.

Raiden examined each and every soldier he possibly could. He marveled at the ways they trained. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Usually, to develop one's skill in combat, you have the soldier battle a more experienced soldier, like Trace did with Raiden. But the Kresallis had a different system.

And it involved magic.

Which was supposed to be extinct.

As each soldier began to train, a dark orb appeared in their hands. The swirling black substance was thrown out in front of these soldiers and they morphed into a humanoid figure. The apparition would then attack.

Raiden watched as they fought these imaginary enemies and saw something unbelievable. The apparition fought, and acted, like a Shodoni soldier. Raiden would know those stances from anywhere. The Kresallis were practicing against magic so they wouldn't hurt each other, but they were also examining the way the Shodoni fought so they would be more likely to withstand their attacks.

It was brilliant.

It was dangerous.

This was going to be a bloody battle.

Moldark approached a violet skinned Kresallis soldier who stood taller than the rest. He appeared to be about seven feet tall, which was much taller than Moldark, and he, unlike the rest, wore a blue vest, embroidered with purple thread. This soldier was bald, with the exception of his ponytail that fell to about a foot long.

Raiden watched as the Kresallis continued to train. Moldark began conversing with the higher ranked soldier, but Raiden didn't care. The only thing he could think of was the lives that would be lost in this upcoming battle. The military may have been up for the fight, but the King's Guard was not. Markis couldn't help, and Trace was the best soldier so far. But even he wasn't fully prepared. Direl and the Elite could hold them off for a little while, but without the King's Guard, they would quickly be overwhelmed.

And Shodon would surely fall.

Moldark continued to talk, and when Raiden looked back to see if Cytra was seeing the tactics of the Kresallis, she was gone. He didn't have enough energy to look around for her, but sure enough, she was gone.

And Moldark hadn't noticed, or didn't care.

If he hadn't noticed... this wasn't going to be pretty.