Page 31 of Of Empires and Dust

Ruon slowly lifted her gaze, looking into Kallinvar’s eyes. Her lips moved, but no sound came.

Kallinvar nodded to the unspoken question. “I was there.”

More knights ascended the stairs to the plateau, falling in around Kallinvar. He spotted Ildris, Lyrin, Arden, and the others of The Second amongst them.

Kallinvar looked into Ruon’s eyes for a moment, then stepped forwards, casting his gaze over those gathered. He caught Gildrick’s stare from among the other Watchers and priests.

As silence settled, shuffling feet coming to a stop, murmurs fading, eyes fixing on Kallinvar, he drew a breath, then spoke. “I have called you all here, under the light of the Blood Moon, to tell you that our time is now. Each and every one of youhas suffered loss and hardship. For some, hundreds of summers have passed before your eyes. We have watched our homes burn and fade into the annals, our loved ones die, our bloodlines wither. And we have stood by, keeping our creed. But we were, each of us, chosen. For our strength, our will, our hearts. We carry this burden because we are the only ones who can. We carry it so that others need not know its pain. We are the Knights of Achyron. We stand when others kneel. We fight when others falter. And we charge when others yield. It is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves, to defend this world against the coming shadow. I am not Verathin, nor will I ever be. I assure you, if I had the choice, I would take his place in a heartbeat.”

The wind whistled and gusted, sweeping dust across the stone plateau. Kallinvar settled himself with a breath, rolling back his shoulders. He had spent hours preparing a speech, thinking on how he would tell the others that he heard Achyron’s voice in his mind, how he would convince them that he wasn’t within insanity’s grasp, that a god had truly spoken to him. But all that melted away as he looked out over the gathered crowd of knights, Watchers, and priests.

“Achyron has spoken to me.”

Murmurs spread. Shock clear on many faces, confusion on others. But within seconds, the murmurs had died and Kallinvar saw only expectation. All eyes were on him.

“He spoke to you?” Sister-Captain Emalia of The Tenth stepped forwards. There was no scepticism in her voice. Her gaze was fixed on his.

“He did.” Kallinvar nodded. “I can hear his words in my head even now. He took my soul to the Godsrealm, showed me the war that wages there, and gave me our path forward. I know how it sounds… I thought I had lost my mind at first…”

Sister-Captain Olyria dropped to one knee, a closed fist drawn across her chest. She lifted her head so her gaze met Kallinvar’s, but not a word left her lips.

Brother-Captain Gandrid knelt beside Olyria, with Armites, Darmerian, and Airdaine following suit. Ruon moved past Kallinvar and joined the others, a soft smile curling her lips.

The last of the captains to step from the gathered crowd was Sister-Captain Arlena of The First. She had fought at Verathin’s side for centuries, been his sword and shield – his friend. The sound of her armoured boots clipping against the stone rose above the silence. She walked past the others, stopping before Kallinvar. Arlena stared into Kallinvar’s eyes, the green of her irises swirling with specks of brown and gold.

“You are not Verathin.”

The words lingered in the air, hanging heavy, but as Kallinvar made to speak, Arlena continued. “But nobody could be. I trust you with my life. Your word is without question, your deeds without equal. It has been my honour to fight at your side and answer your call. And when my soul finally leaves this world, I will walk into Achyron’s halls telling The Warrior himself that I died fighting alongside Grandmaster Kallinvar, alongside one of the greatest souls I have ever known.”

Arlena knelt, resting her two palms across her bent knee, then lifted her chin to look at Kallinvar.

“We were not given our lives to spend them sitting next to a warm hearth and getting fat on ale and cheese. Tell us where Achyron needs our blades. Even if it is to the void itself, we will follow you.”

As Arlena spoke, the rest of the knights across the platform knelt, resting their hands across their knees and looking to Kallinvar. Even the priests and Watchers followed.

A surge of pride swept through Kallinvar, and for a moment, he felt as though Verathin stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

I never thought I would do this without you, old friend.

“Achyron asks us to find an object of great power – the Heart of Blood. A vessel that holds the Life Essence of hundreds of thousands. We are to find it and destroy it so that Efialtír can never cross into our world,” Kallinvar called. “And if that cannot be done, we are to ensure that the Heart never falls into the hands of The Traitor’s followers while the Blood Moon holds sway over this world. We will strike every convergence of the Taint, burn it out root and stem wherever it dares rise. We will scour the lost city of Ilnaen, strike into the heart of Mar Dorul, storm the mountains of Wolfpine Ridge and Kolmir. But we will not do it alone…” As Kallinvar looked out over those gathered, he saw the faces in his mind of those they had lost: Verathin, Daynin, Mirken, Illarin, and so many others. “Achyron has opened my ears, and the voices of the new Sigil Bearers call to me. We cannot bring back those we have lost, but we can ensure their loss was not in vain.”

Kallinvar stepped forwards and summoned his Soulblade. As the green light burst from his closed fist, he thrust his hand into the air, allowing the light of Achyron’s soul to carve through that of Efialtír’s moon. “The Godwar has begun, my brothers and sisters, and each of us has a part to play.”

Chapter 9

Old Tricks

6thDay of the Blood Moon

Lost Hills, northwest of the Rolling Mountains – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Dayne stoodat the top of the rise, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down into the open valley. This was the highest point of the Lost Hills, just before they joined the Rolling Mountains, thousands of feet above the level of the sea. The march was an exhausting one, particularly for an army moving quickly with heavy armour and weapons.

Which was why Dayne had marched his five thousand warriors there two days beforehand. There would still be many aching muscles between them, but they would be far fresher than the host of seven thousand Thebalans hurrying to join the new head of their house, Aldon, at Achyron’s Keep.

Aldon’s father Miron, whom Dayne had killed in the siege of Myrefall, had commanded a force twice as large. Many had diedin the siege, the survivors splitting in the aftermath. Some three thousand had joined Aldon and the rebellion, the rest scattering to the wind. Once word had spread that Aldon had followed his father’s wishes and betrayed the rebellion, the other banners had gathered and marched to meet him at Achyron’s Keep.

“I still think you should have taken the ten thousand your sister offered.” Belina stepped up beside Dayne, sucking in her cheeks as she surveyed the land. The valley cut through the hills and forked, dense woodland bearing down on all sides. Something about having her there made the weight on Dayne’s shoulders that little bit lighter.

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