Dark Illumination

Chapter Eight

Lightseeker in hand like the sword was an extension of his body, Dillan ran on what seemed like led laden feet. No matter how hard he pumped his legs, no matter how softly his feet touched the ground, he couldn’t seem to move fast enough. The trees with their golden leaves blurred into yellow streaks on either side of him.

His vision tunneled. All his focus was on reaching camp in time. They could defend themselves. They had to. The screams and sounds of fighting pierced through the roaring in his ears. He no longer felt his heart. It was beating too fast.

He had one thought: get to his men.

In his single-minded determination to bring much needed aid to his men, he hadn’t noticed the object flying his way until it was a yard away. He barely dodged…

A severed arm. Ripped from its socket.

The blood of it smeared his cheek as he slid aside. A horrible, guttural sound followed the flying limb. Minions. Fully formed. But how? How could they be this far inside Lumeria?

In his years of hunting and slaying the vile beasts, not once had he fought them within his kingdom’s borders. The vicious creatures were held back by the wards set up by Teare’s most powerful sorcerers long enough for a hunting party to arrive. Was the balance that unstable that a breach in the wards occurred?

Please, he prayed to The Light, please let him make it in time. His men were unarmored. Hence unprepared for any sort of attack. No matter how skilled a warrior, a surprise attack could still be deadly.

Soon the thick undergrowth gave way to the clearing they had decided to stop for the night in. Half-erected tents and camp equipment were strewn everywhere. Coals from a fire were scattered as if kicked up from the pit they had been in. When his vision finally widened enough to take in the rest of the scene, he gaped. A horde of the biggest, ugliest minions tore at his men. All of them had their weapons out, but without armor for added protection many were already bleeding from several wounds.

Kyle took a running leap and severed the head off a blue-haired ogre. Yet as soon as it disappeared, another one took its place. He barked orders to the others, which was met by grunts of acknowledgement.

One ogre caught a Knight unawares from behind and tore into his shoulder. Dillan couldn’t move. No matter how hard he wished to join the fighting, it was as if a bubble separated him from the destroyed camp. His brain just couldn’t wrap itself around how this could all be happening. Then his shocked gaze landed on a familiar figure on the ground.

His squire lay in a bloody heap. Glassy-eyed. One glance at the boy told Dillan he was gone. Ambrose, having grown attached to the young lad, stood by him, protecting his body from any danger foolish enough to come closer.

The c*****e was too much. He gritted his teeth before he threw his head back and howled like the minions busy slicing the rest of his men to ribbons. It shouldn’t have been this way. This should have been a lazy ride toward Teare. Not a blood-soaked battle where he lost friends and comrades alike.

Gripping Lightseeker with both hands, red tinted his vision. After Garret had taught him this battle technique, the Knight had warned him not to use it often. If there was a time to bring out the cavalry, it should be now. So he called upon the berserker he kept shackled tightly within the deepest recesses of his mind. It bellowed, heeding the summons of its master. All warriors had one just like it within them. It was only a matter of being able to maintain control, to find the way back to sanity after the slaughter.

Once the brute rose to the surface, Dillan gave it free reign and lost himself in the fight. Going berserk was akin to an out of body experience after smoking the herbs Riona liked to mix for the soldiers to help them unwind after a particularly fierce encounter. He could see what was happening, but he had absolutely no control over it. But instead of being completely relaxed, all the nerve-endings in his body fired. His muscles grew taught and his senses went into a state of alertness he had yet to master on his own. Garret called it being in the zone where nothing but the battle mattered.

He lowered his sword and rolled his shoulders, easing the tension there. Then he shifted his weight from his heels to his toes then back again, making sure his stance was wide. He bounced once, twice. At the third, he pushed off the ground onto the minion he was closest to and plunging Lightseeker into the side of its neck.

One after the other he systematically dispatched every minion he came into contact with using an economy of movement. A s***h here, a severing there, Lightseeker sliced into ogre flesh like a warm knife into butter. The power of The Light responded by settling the blade aflame. Each time it touched the enemy, it quickly set the monster on fire.

Sensing his current state, Kyle ordered the men to stand back. His cousin had only seen the berserker once in battle, and it was enough to give the man pause when Dillan was this way. Unlike Garret, who had complete control over his beast, Dillan was still growing into his powers. Going berserk would be more of a detriment than an asset if he wasn’t confident in his skills because the thug could no sooner kill friend than foe.

The rotten egg stench of ogre blood fueled the beast within him to continue. He ducked a swipe of claws then sliced up with his sword. The instant Lightseeker touched flesh, the minion disintegrated. Like a wild wolf on a full moon, Dillan let out another wailing howl.

As if from a distance, he heard someone calling his name. Breathing hard, he couldn’t respond. Or was it because he was still in the grip of the berserker. He licked the pad of his thumb, tasting the blood of the slain. Almost immediately the tangy sourness allowed his consciousness to regain control, returning the shackles on his personal demon and banishing it back to its prison where it will slumber until Dillan calls upon it again.

Still unable to catch his breath since it took great physical strength to let loose the way the berserker needed so he could fight, he allowed himself to fall on his ass. Lightseeker returned to its dormant state the moment he leaned his back heavily against the trunk of the closest tree.

Ambrose ambled closer and nuzzled his hair. He glanced up and planted he kiss on the Barbaro Colt’s nose. It snorted, ruffling his hair and drying some of the sweat that gathered in his brow.

“I know,” he whispered up to his friend. “He was a good attendant.”

The hulking beast nodded its head then eased to the side as Kyle approached. His blond hair was matted with blood. Dillan’s eyebrows rose.

“Not mine,” his cousin said almost immediately. Growing up together had its perks. Communicating without words was one of them.

“What’s the damage?” he asked, fear at learning the truth woke a swarm of bees in his stomach.

“Five dead, the rest injured,” Kyle responded curtly, but lightning shone in the stormy gray of his eyes. The fallen were his friends too. “How—”

“I don’t know,” Dillan cut off the obvious question. “What I do know is we can’t wait any longer. I was wrong to postpone this union as long as I have. I was a fool.”

“Don’t go there.”

He treated Kyle to a cutting glare. “If I had been the one who left base camp rather than ordering Sebastian in my place the princess and I would have been joined by now and this…” He gestured at the useless bloodshed with a flick of his wrist. “This wouldn’t have happened.”

“How can you be so sure?” his cousin asked, courage evident in his words.

Those who knew Dillan also understood that he was ready to bite anyone’s head off when he got this way. He would fight all the minions all by himself if he knew it would save his men. But he also knew this war was bigger than any one man. That was why they needed the prayers of the High Queen just as much as the sharp blades of the High King’s Knights.

There were times when he lay awake at night contemplating this system of uniting The Light and Dark in order to keep The Void at bay. Was it the only real way? But what happened this afternoon shows without maintaining the balance between forces many could die. The realization made Dillan feel so small and insignificant.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he finally said when Kyle seemed like he wouldn’t move if he didn’t get an answer to his query.

“Your orders then?”

Dillan surveyed what was left of their camp. “We tend to the wounded and bury the dead. We don’t move until everyone is fit. Then we ride, hard.” He met his cousin’s unwavering gaze with the determination behind his own. “It’s what we should have done from the beginning.”

“Yes, we will tend to the wounded and bury our dead, but you should stop beating yourself up for this.” Kyle gripped his sword’s pommel, every bit the Knight of Morningstar. “This attack could just be a fluke. A whole in the wards we didn’t foresee. The balance is tenuous at best, after all.”

“How do you know to say the right things?”

He smirked. “I’ll send a hawk to Garret.”

Understanding that his cousin would rather move on instead of accepting the compliment, Dillan said, “Have him send one of the Legions from the palace to patrol the area.”

“I’ll even have him send a contingent of sorcerers. If there is a whole in our defenses, they will find it before we reach the Onyx Palace.”

Acknowledging the suggestion with a nod, Dillan used the tree he leaned on for support and began pushing up to his feet.

“Whoa!” Kyle reached to steady him when he stumbled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping?” he asked as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“But you just got out of using the berserker. You need to rest.”

Dillan indicated with a tilt of his chin the wounded that limped and bled as they gathered any supplies that weren’t wrecked during the commotion. “If they can start clearing camp without worrying about their wounds, I can certainly start helping them.”

Kyle applied pressure on his shoulders in an attempt to keep him in place. “You might not be bleeding from anywhere, but you just dispatched a horde of minions.”

Placing a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, he gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I appreciate the concern, I really do, but this isn’t like the time we thought killing Beelzebub was a good idea.”

The Knight he grew up with who had barely come into his manhood rolled his eyes. “Not one of your smartest ideas, I have to admit. Then when you disappeared…”

“Don’t remind me.” Dillan shook his head in mock dismay. No matter how much he may b***h and moan about being chosen, he never regretted becoming prince. The number of people he had helped through the years because of his position galvanizes his resolve to reach Teare as swiftly as riding Ambrose possible could.

If ascending into his High King powers meant not only could he protect his people but the people of Teare from the viciousness of The Void, then so be it. His fears and hesitations no longer mattered. If what happened this afternoon taught him anything it would be that time was no longer on his side.

He gave Kyle’s shoulder another squeeze as he regained his balance. Ignoring the wave of nausea that assailed him he said, “Come on. We have much to do before we need to ride.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Cousin, the only thing I’m sure of is I’m getting married.”