Page 351 of Of Empires and Dust

Calen sidestepped the man’s half-hearted lunge, then swept his níthral across his back. The light-wrought blade sliced through the steel and bit into flesh, and the mage collapsed, howling. Calen spun, turning away the swing of another blade and knocking it free from its wielder’s hands. Valerys’s rage burning in him, he pushed threads of earth into the mage’s breastplate, and she unleashed a horrendous shriek.

In that moment, Calen felt a surge of the Spark like nothing he’d ever felt. It swept outwards, rippling through the air and crackling over his skin. The entire cavern shook, and chunks of rock broke free from the ceiling, followed by clouds of dust and a deep, aching groan that reverberated through the mountain.

His threads of Earth were severed, and threads of each elemental strand bored into him, searing through his very core, Valerys roaring. Calen pushed back, the runes on his armour blazing. He charged the mage who was trying to burn him out, his níthral igniting as he did.

Their blades collided in a burst of purple light. Calen moved from form to form, feinting high, then striking low, slicing his níthral along the mage’s side. The man staggered, but the energy that pulsed in waves did not falter. Calen could still feel it burning within him. Still, the man was no match for him with a blade.

Calen turned away a strike to his left, twisted his wrist, then dragged his níthral across the mage’s breastplate, slicing through the steel and coming a hair’s breadth from opening the man’s chest.

Keeping his momentum, he set his back foot and lunged forwards for the killing blow, only for something to crash into him like a battering ram. He careened backwards, the sound of breaking rocks filling his ears as his head spun and every bone in his body felt as though it were melting from the inside. He pressed a fist into the ground, the purple light of his eyes glowing against the rock, and pushed himself upright.

One of the Chosen stood over him, its helm gone, deep black eyes staring at him. But before the creature could move, a mage strode past it, eyes gleaming beneath his helmet with the same red light that shone from the gemstone around his neck.

Tendrils of Blood Magic slithered around Calen’s body, holding him in place while threads of the Spark pushed into him, ripping at his soul. Behind the Chosen, Tivar did everything she could to reach him, but two more Chosen fell upon her, crimson blades sweeping.

The mage wrapped his hand around Calen’s throat and lifted him to his feet with the aid of the dark magic.

Valerys roared and thrashed in Calen’s mind, sweeping around the western ridge of the mountain as Helios and the other dragons descended towards the battlefield. Fear. Fury. Sorrow. Panic. Calen could not leave him alone. He could not. Valerys wouldn’t allow it. They were the same soul. They were together always.

The mage pushed harder and harder, the Spark burning in Calen. With Valerys’s strength, Calen pushed back, the Spark rippling outwards. More rocks fell from the ceiling, the mountain crying out. And somewhere in the back of Calen’s mind he heard men and women shouting.

“It’s coming down!” someone called. Rebels and soldiers alike began to break and flee while Tivar fought ceaselessly against the two Chosen, rebels rallying around her.

As a white light began to burn in Calen’s eyes, he pushed each strand into his fist, summoning his níthral. No matter how powerful this mage was, a níthral to the heart would surely see him dead.

And then, as the purple light formed in his fist and illuminated the man’s face through his helmet, Calen saw it. The man roared and the bonds of dark magic crushed Calen’s bones, but Calen looked past the red light that glowed in the mage’s eyes. He knew that face. He knew those eyes. Calen released his níthral. Gasping for air, he choked out one word. “Rist?”

The bonds loosened, the Spark pulled back, and the crimson light vanished from Rist’s eyes. A moment passed, a moment of strange silence as though Calen stood in a dream, one that could never be real.

“Calen?”

Even as the fighting raged about them, the utterance of Calen’s name had blocked his ears to all other sounds except Rist’s voice. He staggered forwards a step, searching the eyes he had known his entire life. Calen’s hands trembled, his lip quivering, his mind racing. “You’re alive? You… Is it really you?”

Rist reached up and pulled the helmet from his head, his jaw slack. He looked different than what Calen remembered – his cheeks fuller, neck thicker – but it was still Rist.

“Your eyes,” Rist whispered. For a moment, he seemed to disappear into his own thoughts, just as he had always done.

“Rist, what are you doing here?” Calen shook his head as he spoke. He’d not wanted to believe what Ella had said. That Rist had joined the Lorian Empire… It couldn’t be true. “How could you? How could you join them? What are you?”

“What am I? What are you? You are the one who burned Kingspass to the ground? You are the one who has spread this rebellion? Do you know how many lives you have destroyed, Calen?” Rist pressed a hand to his ribs where Calen had sliced into him. “This can’t be real… it can’t be.”

“They killed my parents, Rist. They destroyed everything… How could you?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Rist snapped back.

“Youalwayshave a choice, Rist. Always.”

Something in Rist’s expression shifted, and he straightened. “It can’t be…” he whispered. “This can’t be real…”

“Rist, your mam and dad are alive. They’re safe. They tortured them, Rist, but I broke them free. I—” Threads of Air pulled the breath from Calen’s lungs and wrapped around his throat, lifting him from the ground.

Through watering eyes, he saw another mage step up beside Rist, a hand pressed to the burnt flesh on his face. The power of the Spark that rippled from the man was immense.

“Garramon, let him go!” Rist roared. “Let him go!”

“We need to end this now!” the other man shouted. “If he dies here, so does the rebellion.”

“Let him go!” Rist roared again, and a surge of the Spark erupted outwards, knocking the man from his feet. Calen dropped like a sack of stones, his knees slamming against the ground. More shards broke free from the ceiling above, and a thunderous crack ripped through the rock.

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