Fate of an Empire (Book One)

Chapter 46 - Finished

Taverous' slumber was shattered by the overwhelming power that his brother drew to himself. Lasal grabbed his master and steadied his posture.

"You need to rest. They will have to suffice without you. You are in no condition—"

"Quiet." Taverous snapped, once again running his hands over his scarred face. "They stand no chance." He fought to his feet, swaying under his weight. "I need your strength." He looked at Lasal. "You need to take me to him. Take me in close."

Lasal nodded and grabbed the ancient's hand. They blinked from sight, leaving the desolate hillside to itself.

Taverous appeared face to face with his brother and, without hesitation, wrapped him in a bear hug. A shockwave rippled out from the two men, pushing everyone back, then a second, and a third. Balar was trying to wrestle free from his brother's grasp, but Taverous pulled from strength previously untouched. Emotion and pure realization of sacrifice brought out powers that neither of the brothers had tasted before.

The scars and wounds that riddled Taverous' body mended and his muscles swelled at their newfound vigor. Balar had no chance of escape.

With a final thought, Taverous split the sky, and a pillar of golden light shot down upon them. The power scared everyone, except for the Tearanei. This was the closest thing they would ever see to what the brothers had accessed when the three created their people.

This was a glimpse of their genesis.

The pillar twisted and contorted for what seemed like an eternity, peeling away layers of the ground, burying the ancient magicians. With a final exertion, and clap of energy, the beam of light vanished, leaving a twisting crater of brilliant, malleable earth—like the liquid gold of a blacksmith's foundry.

A lone voice among the masses of soldiers dared to speak. "It's finished."

The barely audible statement spread through the men. Cheers rang through the air. All were overcome with joy—except the Tearanei. They closed in on the tarnished ground. They kneeled and placed their foreheads to the dirt. They chanted a melodic chorus that quieted the soldiers. They felt the meaning in the Tearaneis' words and the mourning in their hearts.

Taverous had destroyed his brother, the same way Rykin had done over a hundred years ago, not with the same spell, but through the sacrifice of himself. The soldiers could not comprehend what it meant for all of the ancients to be gone—the enforcers of law, creators of life, and silent watchers of all.

At one time, Balar was the most valiant.

At one time, the three were family, in the real meaning, not just by blood.

A whisper of words slithered from beneath the ground.

The Tearanei reared back. The words grew louder and louder, rising from the depths.

A moment of silence fell on them, followed by a rumbling voice, "You will all pay dearly for that." The words spewed forth from the still churning pit. The form of a man started to rise out of the ground. The Tearanei waved everyone back.

Lava-like residue slopped away from the body. The body of Balar, still holding onto his staff. He roared out over the men. In an angry outburst, he snapped the weakened weapon and threw the smoldering pieces to the ground. His undead flesh fell away from his body. With each step he took, his body failed him more.

"With my end, so will come yours," Balar hissed through his quivering jaw. His body took a final step and crumbled to the ground.

A black shadow rushed from the undead shell, spreading out across the ground.