The sky above was dark with storm, though now and again there were flashes and explosions as lightning struck the walls of Xisholis, guided by the supernatural hand of demons. Andraste's hellfire had claimed two of the creatures as they assaulted the walls, but there was no sign of Kasadya. If the Silent were honest with himself, the elder fiend wasn't exactly needed. Xisholis's defenders were falling fast as their walls were struck. There was no way they would last the night, even with Andraste's sorcery and Lieren's magic. No arrow of Ekundayo's or axe of Dain's could turn back a multitude. Their only chance—and it was a slim one—would be to vanquish Kasadya.
All of that said, their little group was making an assault on the main gates a dangerous proposition for the demon-kith and their fiendish allies. The Silent had taken a crossbow and bolts from the bodies of the fallen on the wall. He wasn't an excellent shot, but he was good enough to put hurt on any enemy trying to scale the walls. Dain was much more proficient with his own crossbow as he fired at some of the lesser fiends at further range. His otherwise blind eyes could detect the sparks of sorcerous life-force within the demons, so he had targets to aim at. Ekundayo was dropping anything that walked out onto the open field with his powerful bow, able to reach much further than the crossbows could. Andraste rained hellfire and—when she could catch the storm—lightning down on the fortified positions of the enemy as Lieren shored up the resolve of the dwindling defenders.
"We can't do this forever," Ekundayo said, taking a brief pause to count his arrows. "I have twenty more dead demon-kith and then I'll need to replenish."
The Silent pointed at the arrows and then at himself, his way of volunteering to fetch them.
The warrior-king grinned. "Good man," he said. "But first, we need a better plan than just causing trouble."
"Did you feel that?" Dain said suddenly, his white eyes going wide.
"What?" Lieren said impatiently. Her temper had worn thin as the stress of her magics increased. Without being able to draw from an external source, her power was more limited than a Leyan battlemage's and consumed a great deal of energy. It was still a considerable force to be reckoned with, granted.
"Something shook the ground."
Andraste exhaled sharply. "It's him," she said. "I feel something powerful."
"I don't see anything that big or dangerous on the field," Ekundayo said. "Dain? Andi?"
There was a thunderous crack behind them as something exploded up through the cobblestones of the city street, bringing with it a reek of ozone. It was followed by a horrible vibration as a silent noise started, so deep that it couldn't be heard but was definitely felt. The Silent felt his entire body quake in agony as Kasadya's song swept through him. He turned, terrified of what he was going to see.
Kasadya was a massive figure, larger even than Baphomet. But where the Prophet of Ruin and the Servant were humanoid, he was anything but. The elder fiend bore a striking resemblance to a great, glossy silver millipede, though his mandibles were far more fearsome than any insect's and his limbs could channel sorcery every bit as potent as Gader'el's. The Silent had never experienced the creature's song before, but he had been warned of it. Other demon-kith whispered that if Kasadya was truly displeased and one was too close, the very sound could shatter bones and organs. True or not, it was something to be reckoned with all the same.
The men-at-arms who tried to advance on Kasadya hit the full power of the song. The effect was immediate: shattered eardrums and bloody cheeks, the men reeling about as if they were drunk. It was all too easy for the elder fiend to rip them apart with his powerful forelegs and bite heads off with his mandibles. He was among them like a fox in a henhouse. The spray of crimson from severed arteries hit the grey stone of the courtyard, leaving brilliantly red splatter patterns.
YOU ARE READING
The Mournful King
Fantasy"We are only as sick as our secrets." As the embers of strife settle, the Silent is used to his life as a menial laborer, drifting from town to town. He carries a dark secret: the leash of a demon around his soul that remains no matter how far he r...