Very well. Drink deeply of my blood, and my blessing will be upon you as a curse of the night. I shall grant you both strength and beauty, but know that the gifts of darkness carry a price; compensation, if you will, for the exchange of power. The future will bring you much pain. Tell me if my gift was worth the price if we ever meet again.

  Void Lord Lilith Eternia, Queen of the Undying Night

  said to Amy Wildbrood, first of the children of the night

  in the Temple of the Night, Daintree Rainforest, Earthen Kingdoms

  While his body lay imprisoned in the dungeons deep below, that did not stop Solomon from keeping himself busy. With a touch of magic, he could astral project himself and explore anywhere or research any topic. In his astral form, he travelled to the edges of Ulric’s domain, checking for potential places to flee to in exile. He also sought more knowledge of the dragonkin. Solomon had twice tapped into his dragonkin heritage since hearing the goddess’s voice, and he was desperate to understand what he was.

  The goddess had told him he had been cursed by his mother’s magic as she had been murdered. Questions ran rampant in his mind, with no distractions to keep him from his crusade to find the truth. Who was his mother, and why was she murdered? Where was his sister? What was he? Was Ulric right?

  Solomon read every book on the dragonkin and their history that he could find in the nearby lands looking for answers. His best leads had him visiting ancient ruins, crumbled keeps lost to the decay of time. Some had been ruined for hundreds of years. Others appeared to have been recently desecrated by blood magic and void energies. These he investigated more closely. Whispers slowly drew him north, towards the frozen wastes and the decrepit mining villages nestled in the mountains. In astral form, he was more sensitive to the spirits and shadows. The fresher the soul, the stronger the whisper he could hear from it. And he encountered many newly dead – humans, not just the vast number of orcs and goblins that had fallen when he razed their village to the ground with void flame. Whenever he found spirits of those he had slain, Solomon retreated. He knew that they would seek their vengeance on his astral body and that they had the potential to harm or kill him.

  Many of the human spirits he encountered were miners from a village that produced coal and iron. There was also a tiny amount of copper that they exported. The town was near an icy river that never froze, fed from the snowy peaks of five mountains. The dragonkin had once had an outpost nearby, but it had suffered from water erosion. According to a few of the spirits, it was likely that a vampiric cult had occupied the ruins.

  Vampires could endure for hundreds or thousands of years and often became accidental loremasters. It was possible that Solomon could pressure them to provide him with some of the answers he sought, but they would be unwilling to share the knowledge they had gained.

  Solomon had also dived deeply into the theories of magic to broaden his understanding of the mystic arts and find ways to break or lessen the curse of his mother’s magic. The four core elemental powers were fire, water, wind, and earth. These are governed by light and shadow, powers that could exist independently or combined with the core elements. When all six are wielded correctly, they can form pure arcane energy – such as the balance that enabled Solomon to summon Morgana, an arcane elemental. Opposing the power of the arcane is that of the void, the destructive energy that fueled nightmares unimaginable. Fringe magics that leveraged the unique characteristics of the arcane power were null, gravity, and astral magics. Time magic formed the boundary between the arcane and void.

  Therein was the issue. Time magic was forbidden from practice because of how it used both arcane and void magic to manipulate the fabric of existence. Accidents with time magic typically claimed the life of the caster and those around them. And the curse that was sealing his powers was formed from time magic.

  The goddess of time had weakened Solomon’s seal when he had been at the edge of death, allowing him to draw on less than half of his sealed strength to fight the demon, Vanir. Then when he had felt endangered in his fight against Robert, Solomon had managed to access a tendril of his sealed power. Both occasions had required a heightened emotional state to trigger his survival instincts.

  “This is pointless,” Solomon muttered, returning to his body.

  “What is pointless?” Zaria asked him.

  He cursed, jumping upright. Solomon had not realized that she was there, and by the looks of the cold food sitting at the edge of his cell, she had been waiting there awhile. She was waiting for his spirit to rejoin his body so that she could spend some time with him.

  “It is nothing,” Solomon said. “How long have you been there?”

  “About two hours, give or take,” Zaria said. “I brought you down some extra food, just in case you were hungry.”

  “Thanks. It looks tasty, even if it is a bit cold now.” Solomon said. He moved to the front of the cell and sat down to eat the cold chicken and cheese. Food was fuel for him as he waited for an opportunity to pay off his fine.

  “Where were you?” Zaria asked. “More ruins?”

  “Yes. I may have a few leads to follow once I buy my freedom from this cell.” Solomon said. “There is a vampiric cult ties to demonic energies up in the north, and I may be able to use them to further weaken or break the curse that is on me.”

  “We could run off together, you know,” Zaria said. “Well, at least we could try.”

  Solomon laughed. “We would have Cortana and Kastytis with us at a minimum, and neither are exactly inconspicuous.”

  “Speaking of Cortana, father summoned her to him earlier today,” Zaria said. “She told him that you have now gotten close to two thousand gold coins. It is too bad you missed seeing his face; it was comical.”

  “I bet, thank her for me,” Solomon said. “How much of my stuff has she managed to sell?”

  “Most of it,” Zaria said, a tinge of worry entering her voice. “Father asked me to see if he could hire your skills to check on something for him.”

  “What is it?” Solomon asked.

  “A few patrols and scouts have gone missing. Zaldimere has searched for them, but nothing has turned up.” Zaria explained. “He offered one hundred gold coins for confirmed information on what happened to them or their whereabouts. Ten gold coins just to try.”

  “I can check for them,” Solomon said. “Do you have information on where they disappeared? A starting point will shorten the time it takes.”

  “They were all investigating the crater you created when you rescued Princess Emily,” Zaria said. “The first scouting party confirmed it two days after your imprisonment, and their descriptions were vivid.”

  “What? A hole in the ground?” Solomon scoffed.

  “No.” Zaria became quiet. “They described the scorched earth, still burning from void flames. The melted ruins. The burned homes. The countless dead corpses that are scattered everywhere. The dead and mutilated children. The scouts were hysterical.”

  “That is unfortunate,” Solomon said. “I have avoided that area intentionally. Their spirits linger, longing for vengeance, and their immense hatred of me binds them to this world.”

  “But you will do it?” Zaria asked.

  Solomon sighed, taking one last bite of cheese. “Yes, I will do it. It should only take a few minutes if you care to hang around and wait.”

  “Okay!” Zaria said.

  Solomon got up and returned to his cot. If this went badly, it would be better to be lying down. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. Reaching a state of calmness, Solomon separated his spirit from his body to take on astral form. The drain of astral magic had become imperceptible to Solomon.

  He glanced at Zaria. She looked tired and drained, saddened. Her countenance worried Solomon, but it could wait. He took off, soaring from his cell to the sky. It was dark in the crater’s direction, tainted still by the demonic spell that ravaged the area. In astral form, Solomon only took a few minutes to arrive at where he had killed Vanir and used the demons’ essence to fuel his spell casting. The wreckage was substantial – what remained could barely be called ruins. Void flames still lingered throughout the area, powered by the remnants of Solomon’s spell.

  Yet life remained there still. Solomon was shocked at the hustle and bustle as orcs worked to mitigate the void-tainted soil through engineering and prayer. Numerous groups worked cohesively to re-establish their foothold around the crater. Exiting the hole was a continuous line of orcs that would form into groups of ten to twenty and head into the forest. Solomon stood still a while, just observing their movements while remaining wary of the spirits of the lingering dead. The orc groups passed into the woods at a rate of one or two every quarter-hour, with runners occasionally going between the forest and the pit entrance. Eyeing the spirits cautiously, Solomon gave into curiosity. He moved slowly towards the pit to see what all the orcs were doing. As Solomon passed, the dead glared at him but permitted him to trespass. What he saw once he was at the edge flabbergasted Solomon. While there was still evidence of Solomon’s explosive attack around the pit’s rim, the hole was an entryway to an expansive underground city. A thriving city. A really pissed-off city that had just experienced an indiscriminate attack against its residents – including children. Solomon grimaced as he realized that he had literally started a war.

  He had validated Ulric’s concerns and could technically answer what happened to the scouts, but more he could do. Solomon moved from the edge, following the groups of orcs heading into the forest. He skimmed over the ground as he picked a group to follow.

  This group seemed to be led by a female orc, flanked by orc soldiers armed to the teeth. The soldiers wore heavy plate armour that was roughshod and appeared to be formed from multiple metals. They wielded massive double-sided blades made of iron. Each step was made in unison with other members of their squad. Every moment that he spent observing them increased Solomon’s concern. This was no haphazard gathering of angry orcs. No, this was an elite honour guard of experienced warriors led by a female orc wearing an elaborate robe with leather armour beneath it. She carried a staff that doubled as a spiked club. She was likely a shaman, a spell caster with experience casting elemental magic in battle. With a touch of magic, Solomon enabled his astral form to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  “It has been some time since we fought the humans for territory.” Said the shaman. “We should never have listened to that dark elf. He is responsible for the death that rained down upon our surface outpost.”

  “It was inevitable anyway.” Said one of the soldiers, responding to her statement. “Blood demands blood.”

  “And it is not like we can find the dark elf.” Added another.

  “The humans likely killed him when they destroyed our outpost. They probably were far from the outpost when they struck – no group of humans would be so foolish to venture close to the base to cast such a lengthy and complex spell.” Said the shaman. She froze as Solomon floated a step too near. She looked straight at his astral form, yet she was unable to see him clearly. “Hold up. Who are you?”

  Solomon moved to flee, to follow a different group and see where they were headed. As he started to drift away, he felt the shaman’s power swirl around him. She drew upon the energy of the spirits of the dead to forcefully bind Solomon in place.

  “I asked you a question.” The shaman said.

  “My apologies,” Solomon said. He considered carefully whether to lie or tell her the truth. He decided that skirting the truth was likely the best option. “I am called Solomon.”

  “Solomon? No other names? Of what family?” The shaman asked.

  “Just Solomon,” Solomon said. “What is your name?”

  There was a long pause before the shaman responded. “The spirits confirm that you arere telling me the truth, even if humans normally have multiple names. You may call me Tiza, the daughter of Shaza. I am the commander of our elite strike squad, part of the large army we’ve assembled to respond to the assault on our territory.”

  “I am sorry for my intrusion on your squadron, Tiza,” Solomon said. “I did not mean to interrupt your discussion.”

  “Undoubted not.” Tiza sneered. “It is hard to spy on alerted orcs. I am a shaman, foolish boy, and I channel the spirits of my ancestors to summon the elements to do my bidding. They are all around us now. Freshly dead, a result of murderous treachery against an entire outpost.”

  “Do you know why they died?” Solomon asked.

  “Human hatred of my kind,” Tiza answered. “There was no honour in this slaughter.”

  “I wish I could refute your claim – but you are right. Hatred and ignorance did play a part in this tragedy.” Solomon said with his voice tinged with sadness and remorse. “Yet, your people instigated this slaughter.”

  “Liar,” Tiza said.

  “They kidnapped the daughter of our king,” Solomon said. “Princess Emily and members of a merchant caravan. They were held prisoner here by a dark elf and a demon, guarded by your people.”

  “There was no demon here,” Tiza said quietly.

  “I fought it, and I killed it,” Solomon said. “I channelled the excess power torn from the demon to prevent your forces from capturing the princess or me. I did not fully realize what I was unleashing upon your people.”

  “That is not possible,” Tiza said flatly. “No single human could do so. Your lies betray you, spirit.”

  “I am neither spirit nor human,” Solomon said. “I do not think our conversation will change your mind on this matter – and until we meet on the battlefield, I doubt anything will change. Yet, by then, it will be too late.”

  “You are not going anywhere,” Tiza said. She raised her staff, gesturing in Solomon’s direction while murmuring. The staff glowed, and the spirits that had been malevolent watching surged into action; they formed ghostly chains, binding Solomon’s astral form.

  But Tiza has miscalculated. Her spell was intended to bind a spirit to a location – but Solomon was no spirit. Though he was in astral form, his power was undiminished. His astral form flared with magical energy and blinded the orcs as Solomon shattered the chains that bound him and soared upwards into the skies above the forest. He waved at Tiza, mocking her efforts to trap him, and flitted amongst the treetops.

  Within a few minutes, Solomon had found their army. They were likely around ten thousand strong, but it was hard to get an accurate count within the densely packed forest – even with magic. They were more than just orcs as well. Like the outpost, there were ogres and goblins mixed within their ranks. A fearsome horde to strike at nearby towns and farms before laying siege to Ulric’s castle.

  Solomon had seen and heard enough to answer Zaria or Ulric’s question on the scouts’ disappearance. His astral form collapsed in upon itself, following the connection to his body. His spirit had rejoined with his body within heartbeats, and he bolted up. His sudden movement surprised Zaria, and she uttered a small scream.

  “Sorry,” Solomon said. “I guess that was a bit abrupt.”

  “It is fine,” Zaria said. “You were gone for quite a while, and your body was so still. It reminded me a bit of when you rescued the princess, how you seemed as if you were going to join the dead.”

  “Technically speaking, I was both alive and dead while using astral magic to scout like I just did. The magic allows your spirit to separate itself from its physical constraints – and you can see the spirits of the dead while in astral form. They are often a useful source of intel.” Solomon said. “I found the cause of the scouts’ disappearance.”

  “And?” Zaria prompted.

  “Tell Lord Ulric not to waste any more soldiers scouting,” Solomon said, his expression turning grim. “He will need them. There is an army forming around the crater, at least ten thousand strong. Mostly orcs but with other denizens of the deep dark accompanying them.”

  “Ten thousand?” Zaria said, and she looked at her hands. “What chance do we have?”

  “Ulric can marshal forces to harass their army from within the forests, slowing their advance while we call in the surrounding villages, taking refuge in this castle. Even with ten thousand soldiers, their army cannot take the castle with ease.” Solomon said.

  “I will let father know,” Zaria said. “I have to go. I will try to visit soon.”

  “See you later,” Solomon said, watching her go. Once Zaria was out of sight, he went back into astral form to follow her. Within a few minutes, Zaria entered the audience chamber where Ulric and Kastytis were waiting.

  “Father, I spoke with Solomon,” Zaria said. “He confirmed the fate of the scouts – they are dead.”

  “How did they die?” Ulric asked.

  “Solomon reports an army of ten thousand orcs has emerged from where the orc village once stood,” Zaria answered. “They are finalizing preparations to attack us, and Solomon suggested that we slow them down with strike forces. At the same time, we gather the surrounding villages – and prepare to weather a siege in the castle.”

  “Pfft. They are only orcs.” Ulric said. “Orcs do not organize in large numbers.”

  “My lord, they will still overrun us with sheer numbers even if they are only orcs if the estimate is correct,” Kastytis said. “While I do not like the idea of withdrawing all of our people here, the suggestion is rooted in a sense.”

  “We will have Zaldimere confirm their numbers with his magic,” Ulric said. “I do not believe that ten thousand orcs would be able to gather so easily. Now that we have confirmation of the direction and the danger, Zaldimere’s magic should suffice for us to validate the threat.”

  “I will let my master know,” Zaria said.

  “No need,” Zaldimere said, entering the room. “I caught the last piece from the hallway, and I can use my magic to confirm, although I will be useless afterwards.”

  As Solomon watched Zaldimere cast his magic, he remembered Zaldimere summoning a spiritual watcher from when they had encountered demonic tracks. The spirit formed and zipped away, barely giving Solomon’s astral form a glance. Ulric, Zaria, and Kastytis stared at Zaldimere in silence as they waited. They did not need to wait long before Zaldimere came to himself.

  “I found a few thousand, maybe up to three thousand orcs,” Zaldimere said. “They have at least one spellcaster among their ranks; they destroyed my spell when I approached them.”

  “Three thousand might be manageable,” Kastytis said.

  “But!” Zaria said.

  “Solomon may have overestimated their numbers,” Zaldimere said. “He undoubtedly would like to stretch his legs and fight.”

  “Kastytis, gather our forces and light the beacons of war,” Ulric said, raising his hand to stop Zaria’s protest. “We shall meet their forces as they cross the river. Zaldimere and Zaria can leverage their magic to drown as many of them as possible, and our soldiers will slaughter them. If things go poorly, we will kill as many as we can before we stage a retreat back here.”

  “We will wait here, my lady.” Telesilla said to Zaria. She and Chrysame took positions near the cellblock entrance to allow Zaria and Solomon a bit of privacy.

  “Hi Solomon,” Zaria said. “I think this will be my last chance to visit before we leave to engage the orcs.”

  Solomon looked at her hopefully. “Any chance your father would be willing to have me along to help with the fighting?”

  “None.” Zaria winced. “It was already suggested by Kastytis. After all, it is not like you would run away. Father clearly said you are not allowed to leave your cell by the King’s edict until you can pay off your fines.”

  “Zaria, if I cannot fight alongside you, then at least take a token,” Solomon said, frustrated once more by his situation. He held out his hand to her with a gift. “Take this ring. It was to be your twentieth birthday present anyways.”

  “A ring?” Zaria said with surprise.

  “I made it before the kings’ visit,” Solomon said. “I was not sure how to give it to you at the time. It is layered with enchantments.”

  “Of course, you could not have given it to me then. After all, you were hiding your magic.” Zaria said, her voice bitter. She made little attempt to hide her bitterness and disappointment that he had lied to and deceived her. “What does the enchantment do?”

  “Enchantments. I enchanted it to passively boost one’s magical affinity and reduce the fatigue that usually comes from wielding the arcane arts,” Solomon said. “It does not increase the amount of magical power you can use, but it will make your spells more effective and easier to use.”

  “That is…” Zaria paused. “Thank you. That will be useful in the coming battle against the orcs and their allies.”

  “It has more than one enchantment woven into it,” Solomon said. “If it was just the one enchantment, I could have given it to you and claimed to have purchased it from one of the visiting merchants.”

  “I think Zaldimere would have pushed for more information than that. This is not a simple enchantment, and many mages would kill for such a gift.” Zaria said with a small smile on her face. “What else can it do?”

  “Well, I was using it for enchanting practice,” Solomon said nervously. He hesitated. “It has six other effects.”

  Zaria nearly dropped the ring. “Six? This ring has seven enchants on it?”

  Telesilla and Chrysame gasped from where they stood guard, overhearing Zaria’s raised voice. Enchanted items were expensive, and few items warranted a single enchantment. Rarer were items that had two enchants. The few items with three enchantments were considered epic items, worth a small kingdom each. The ring Solomon had given her was worth a large house in the town, easily just with the skilled metalwork and artfully crafted gemstones. Without knowing what the enchants were, Zaria knew that the ring was considered a legendary item worth her father’s entire domain.

  “Yes. The ring grants its bearer elemental resistance against magic, increased armour durability, decreased armour weight, and increased regeneration rate.” Solomon said. “It also generates a minor barrier effect that will deflect or blunt attacks.”

  Zaria could only stare at the small ring in her hand. The ring would give her a substantial edge in combat. It would also provide her with material protection from melee or ranged attackers that would target her as soon as she cast her first spell.

  “And finally, it is enchanted to allow us the ability to communicate telepathically over great distances,” Solomon said. “I hope you will accept it?”

  When Zaria remained silent to his question, Telesilla spoke up. “She is happy to accept such an extravagant gift.”

  “Yes. Yes, thank you, Solomon.” Zaria said, her hands trembling a little. She put the ring on the third finger of her right hand. The ring was sized perfectly as if it were made to be worn there. “This means a lot. I cannot imagine the amount of effort this required to make. You could have sold this to pay off your fines.”

  “I just hope it helps keep you safe,” Solomon said.

  “We do too,” Telesilla said, gesturing at herself and Chrysame. “My lady, we should go and finish your preparations.”

  “Yes,” Zaria said. She left with her guards, staring at the ring. As she walked, it glittered in the torchlight, casting sparkling light throughout the dungeon.

  Solomon angrily stormed behind Zaria and Felix as his anger threatened to overcome him. Even in astral form, Solomon’s fury hung over the group. Ulric had doubted Solomon’s report and requested that Zaldimere verify the position and numbers of the orc forces. Zaldimere had only been able to locate a few thousand orcs of the army, so they had disregarded Solomon’s report of at least ten thousand. The issue was that Zaldimere had not properly scouted the whole area and had only seen a splinter of the gathered forces.

  As they neared the river, Solomon made his astral form faintly visible and stopped Ulric. He was cautious to ensure that it did so slowly as his astral form became visible and only as corporeal as needed.

  “My lord, a moment of your time,” Solomon said. “The orc force is near; you will make contact shortly. They have a few hundred on this side of the river.”

  “Thank you for the warning, Solomon,” Ulric said. “Zaldimere, can you confirm the report?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Zaldimere said. He closed his eyes and let his magic scry the area for orcs. Moments later, he sighed and nodded. “He is correct. They are fortifying the crossing with fallen trees. It seems to make their crossing easier.”

  “Alright,” Ulric said. “Zaldimere and Felix, take two hundred of our forces to strike on their western side. Zaria, you and your guards will take two hundred of our forces to strike on their eastern side. Kastytis, you’ll stay with me. We will push forward in a wedge formation with most of our forces to trap them between the river and the two flanks.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Kastytis said. “Form up!”

  The captains fell in step behind Felix, Zaria, and Ulric. Their assigned soldiers followed them, keeping formation as each group went its separate way. Solomon looked on with disgust as the nearly one thousand soldiers prepared themselves to engage the enemy. After he met with Tiza, Solomon knew that these orcs weren’t on the same level as the squadrons that Ulric was used to dealing with. These orcs were not disorganized and chaotic. They were trained well and used to combat against their enemies in the darkness beneath the land.

  Watching from the ground was increasing the distress and anger that Solomon was experiencing. Leveraging the advantage of his astral form, Solomon took to the sky to watch the battalions form up and prepare to engage. Once there, he saw the orc forces braced for assault while finishing preparations for a large-scale crossing. Both sides ignored Solomon’s astral form as he flitted amongst the war zone.

  The three divisions of Ulric’s forces – led by Felix, Zaria, and Kastytis – were quickly ready to strike at the waiting orc forces at the edge of the river. In theory, Ulric’s strategy was a good one, but Solomon could not shake his nagging doubts. There were just too many orcs.

  Ulric nodded to Kastytis. The experienced soldier grimaced but nonetheless raised a battle horn to his mouth. The horn’s sound was loud and ominous, signalling to Zaria and Felix that the time was nigh. Almost in unison, the three divisions charged from the forested area onto the riverbank, scattering the alert orc advance guard into a hasty retreat. Felix’s forces made contact first, pushing the orc’s left flank into disarray and catching some of the retreating orc advances between the left and center divisions. Zaria’s party had pulled up short of combat, entrenching themselves on the right flank with a support formation. Solomon saw Chrysame and Telesilla shouting orders while Zaria summoned the water and earth to defend the shoreline.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Soon, Zaria managed to raise and control two giant water elementals, forcing them to surge around the battlefield, causing chaos in the enemy ranks. Zaria had raised the shoreline and deepened sections of the river crossing with her earthen magic – creating a shielding plateau from which her forces could strike from bow and arrow. Approaching orcs learned to avoid the area or die quickly.

  The orc forces rallied as Felix’s division made landfall and entered the other bank's forest. The orcs regrouped and fought back hard, rallying after seeing their comrades die from behind. Soon, Felix’s soldiers were in trouble and retreating to the riverbank where Zaldimere could better support them.

  Zaldimere had neither the inherent power that Zaria possessed nor the ring that Solomon had gifted her. His training and discipline made him a formidable foe on the battlefield, though. He had summoned a large water elemental from the river. He used his superior knowledge of the arcane arts to interweave its body into a water barrier surrounding Zaldimere. It made for slow progression on the battlefield. Still, the configuration made Zaldimere into a mobile fortress that could disrupt the enemy forces. The elemental was autonomous and would strike at any orc or ogre in range, prioritizing the closest enemies. Solomon could sense its’ seething rage, unwillingly bound to fight in Zaldimere’s direction. While making slow progression forward, Zaldimere alternated between enhancement magic and healing magic. Wounded or weakened soldiers would fall back to Zaldimere’s area of influence, recover their strength, then rally back into the fight. It was an excellent tactic, one that befitted Felix as Ulrics’ heir.

  Despite a strong beginning, Felix could not press his division forward nor gain any ground against the orcs in the forest. Of the two hundred soldiers Felix had started with, over fifty had lost their lives in mere moments as the orc tide swarmed across his forces. Under Kastytis, closer to a third of his force had fallen, two hundred soldiers. Zaria had lost the lives of a mere three soldiers – dead from lucky shots by the orc archers.

  Kastytis was fighting at the front of his line, rallying soldiers to his side and pushing the orcs to a standstill. He was fierce on the battlefield, his years of training and experience making him into a god of death unto his enemies. Spotting Tiza approaching Kastytis on the frontlines, Solomon dove down to the battlefield to warn him.

  “Kastytis!” Solomon said, shouting to be heard over the screech of steel on iron and the death cries of orcs and humans. “You need to fall back and reassess!”

  “What is happening?” Kastytis asked, falling back a few rows from the frontline. “Is Lord Ulric alright?”

  “He is fine right now, but you are about to meet one of the orc leaders – a melee spellcaster. She will tear you and your ranks apart.” Solomon said. “About a quarter of the soldiers we brought here lie dead or dying.”

  “And the orcs?” Kastytis asked.

  “About a tenth of their forces,” Solomon said grimly. “But mostly orcs, few of the ogres or other creatures in their forces.”

  “Understood,” Kastytis said, retreating towards Ulric. “I will use the river as a strategic shield and strike from the higher banks.”

  Suddenly the screams at the center of the battlefield multiplied as Tiza and her guards smashed into the fray. They were devastation on the battlefield, reapers of chaos. Stone elementals, raised as stone guards, ignored defensive combat and aggressively pushed forward into the human soldier’s ranks. They crushed those they encountered with ease. Suddenly they were all around Solomon – and Solomon was staring into Tiza’s eyes.

  “I knew I would find you here!” Tiza said, reaching into a pocket and retrieving a small item. She smashed the thing into the ground at Solomon’s feet. “Enjoy!”

  Bolting upright, Solomon felt as though someone had shredded his innards. He was no longer on the battlefield – Tiza had somehow engineered an item capable of forcing an astral recall effect on Solomon’s astral form, forcing him back into his body. It was a clever trick that prevented Solomon from easily spying on them, especially as Ulric’s fight was going badly.

  “Screw this,” Solomon said. He got up from the worn cot, unlocked his cell with a simple spell, and walked out. It was past time to accept his fate as an outcast and fight for his beliefs. He ran from the deepest part of the dungeon to the highest tower, seeking the castle’s highest area. He ran past Lady Caroline and numerous different guards – none of whom attempted to halt his progress or interfere with reaching the top of the tower. Reaching the balcony, Solomon grasped the elegant stonework in his hands. To his surprise, he was not alone.

  “Took you long enough,” Cortana said. “I have your gear here.”

  Solomon gasped for air, shocked. He reached for the armour and weapons. “I did not think I would see you here.”

  “I have been watching the battle from up here; it is not going well for them,” Cortana said, her eyes gleaming red. “Zaldimere was completely wrong in his estimates, was he not?”

  “Yes,” Solomon said, finishing donning his gear. “His probe was barely surface deep.”

  “Do you want my help on the battlefield?” Cortana asked.

  Solomon smiled. “One day, perhaps. But not today. I may need your help before all this is said and done.”

  As Solomon leapt from the balcony to soar on the wind, he heard one last statement from Cortana. “Let them learn of the fury of the dragonkin.”

  Grinning, Solomon leveraged the power of the wind to glide toward the battlefield. The gusts of wind enable him to hurtle towards the battlefield arriving in mere moments. Circling above the river, Solomon could see that its’ waters were now dark and tainted from the overabundance of corpses in the gentle waters. Carefully, Solomon invoked his arcane power to summon forth Morgana. He reformed the beautiful arcane elemental with his magical fortitude into a giant bladed hammer.

  Together they crashed down upon the battlefield, crushing the orcs and ogres advancing on the central division, led by Kastytis. Solomon struck with physical force using Morgana in hammer form and magical spells, erupting molten stone and defensive spikes against the orc forces. With a single blow, Solomon had reversed the tide of battle.

  Drawing upon his latent dragonkin power through the cracks in his curse, Solomon killed orc after orc as he established himself upon the battleground. His battle hammer expanded and shrunk as needed, slaughtering any orc foolish enough to come into range. After killing over one hundred orcs at the frontline, Solomon darted backwards to join Kastytis and verify the strategy they were using for Ulric’s remaining soldiers.

  “Solomon, why are you here? Physically here, that is.” Kastytis said, concerned. “You need to be in your cell, or you will be answerable to the king’s judgement.”

  “And what is the point of that if everyone I know is dead?” Solomon asked grimly. “You may have missed it, but when I crashed down, I took a large number of orcs – and yet still they swarm our forces.”

  “Their ranks cannot hold forever, though,” Kastytis said. “Felix and Zaldimere continue to funnel their forces into our kill zone.”

  “Kastytis, I do not think any of you understand,” Solomon said. “You have been fighting their foot soldiers and losing badly.”

  “We can hold,” Kastytis said.

  “Bah!” Solomon cursed, frustrated at the old soldiers’ determination. Solomon saw a bolder flying towards them out of the corner of his eye and leapt upwards, swinging his hammer. He shattered the bolder and caused the splinters to cascade upon the orc ranks as burning magma. The screams of the dying orcs were satisfying to his ears.

  “Satisfied?” Kastytis said. “Then return to your cell and await another trial, Solomon.”

  Despite his frustration growing, Solomon did not want to leave Kastytis to die – nor any of the others. Zaria was fine. He could sense her through the ring he gave her. Felix and Zaldimere were holding their own solely due to excellent tactics on Felix’s part. The center ranks were greatly diminished. Despite being the largest division initially, less than a third of the original force was still standing. Leveraging the cracks in the cursed seal on his power, Solomon drew upon his dragonkin heritage lightly, prepared to cause further devastation upon his foes.

  What he saw when he drew upon his power shocked Solomon. He could see that Kastytis was bound by nearly invisible chains formed of residual arcane energy in his enhanced sight. The arcane energy was tainted with temporal power and showed many similarities with the curse that restricted Solomon’s dragonkin powers.

  “Maybe you should join me in my cell, Kastytis!” Solomon shouted at the soldier. As the soldier turned, Solomon surrounded him in arcane energies. Solomon formed the power into chisels and struck down the chains that bound Kastytis. “After all, those descended from the ancient bloodline should face justice together.”

  “Solomon, what are you talking about?” Kastytis said as Solomon’s magic broke the cursed seal. The soldier paused as he felt his full strength returning to his body, and wonder filled his eyes. “What have you done to me?”

  “I set you free of the curse that suppressed your power, dragonkin warrior,” Solomon said, brandishing his hammer. “Shall we teach the orcs true fear?”

  “I am old, Solomon,” Kastytis said, adjusting to the return of his power quickly. “I have never wielded power such as yours, and few dragonkin ever have. What power I have, though, I shall use to push back the tide of battle.”

  “To battle then!” Solomon said with a cheer as he and Kastytis charged into the ranks of orcs. Solomon quickly left the old soldier behind. He slaughtered tens of orcs with each swing of his hammer, using both blunt force and magic to wreak cataclysmic devastation on the battlefield. As an increasing number of orcs fell, their ranks thinned momentarily before surging forward again, this time with ogres, trolls, gnolls, goblins, and giants supporting their ranks. The commander of the orc forces had grown weary of throwing away the lives of their foot soldiers, finally admitting that this small force of human resistance was surpassing their expectations. Only a third remained of the thousand soldiers that Lord Ulric had brought to the battlefield. Of Felix’s group, only fifty soldiers still lived. They had merged with the one hundred soldiers left of Lord Ulric’s central battalion. Zaldimere had fainted from the energy drain and was being carried by two of Felix’s soldiers. By contrast, Zaria was still going strong, with nearly one hundred and fifty soldiers alive.

  The three giant water elementals continued to funnel the orc forces into designated kill zones. Archers scrambled to find more arrows to continue killing them. While her elementals kept the enemy at bay, Zaria worked on the frontlines and healed the injured. Despite not being a full-fledged magician, Zaria had clearly outshone her master in this battle.

  But they could not hope to hold out alone against the orc forces. Even Lord Ulric could see that now as his forces were hard-pressed against the increasingly stronger foes. Only where Zaria or Kastytis stood did the orc forces still falter.

  Solomon was alone in the horde, his hammer striking down all who dared to stand before him. Smashing his hammer into the ground, he invoked the earth’s power. He raised stone spikes from the ground at random across the battlefield. The raised rocks granted a moment’s respite, a handful of seconds to breathe before the horde surged forward. The blood-soaked battlefield was horrendous as the horde of orcs slowly slaughtered the weary human soldiers.

  Solomon spotted Tiza making her way to Kastytis and changed his route so that he could intercept her. He owed her for forcefully breaking him out of his astral form earlier. Wielding the wind like a blade, Solomon sliced down the orcs between them as he hurtled forward. Solomon lightly swung down his hammer towards her skull, causing Tiza to reflexively block the blow with her axe.

  “Here in the flesh this time?” Tiza said, snarling. She moved defensively. “I have been watching you on the battlefield, and there is no way that you are human. What are you?”

  “I recently discovered that I am one of the dragonkin, a demihuman not unlike yourself,” Solomon replied. He kept his hammer poised to strike or defend as he spoke. “Given my circumstances, I would do better to be fighting with you rather than against you.”

  “Then why are you fighting?” Tiza asked. The orc shaman seemed genuinely interested, even lowering her battle axe slightly.

  “To protect my family,” Solomon said. He gestured in the general direction of the keep. “It was my error in spell casting that ruined your people’s settlement, raining death upon your citizens. Even though I had my reasons, the pain I caused your people was wrong.”

  “A kind sentiment,” Tiza said. “Yet, that does not bring my friends back to life, nor my partner, nor my child.”

  “Come then. I will end your torment, and you will see those you once thought lost.” Solomon said, sadness in his voice.

  With a rage-filled scream, Tiza charged at Solomon. Her blows were fierce but wild, with Solomon easily deflecting the strikes with his natural dragonkin agility and his combat training. He did not want to kill her, despite his words. He wanted to capture her for interrogation, to preserve the possibility that peace could be brokered between Lord Ulric’s domain and Tiza’s people.

  As they fought back and forth, giants, ogres, and orcs occasionally came to Tiza’s aid. Unlike Tiza, Solomon had no interest in these warriors and effortlessly dispatched them. Tiza became increasingly erratic with each comrade Solomon killed in front of her. She lashed out at him to no effect with both her magic and weapon. While Solomon dragged out his fight with Tiza to exhaust her, the orc forces’ larger monsters pushed Lord Ulrics’ forces back. The giants gave pause to even Kastytis, with his now unlocked dragonkin power. Even Zaria’s magic had little means to deter them.

  The horde pushed through the soldier’s defences, forcing them to fall back to Lord Ulric’s core forces. In the flank where Zaria fought with her water elementals, the soldiers made a hasty retreat. Zaria used her magic to shield them. Yet, the water elementals were not strong enough to defend against the giants. The giants smashed the elementals to shreds with their clubs before approaching Zaria. The young magician apprentice cast shielding magic upon herself as she slowly retreated. Suddenly, Solomon could feel a surge of her fear through the ring he had given her. He turned towards her, just in time to see a giant swing its spiked club at her – shattering her defensive shields and whipping her into the air.

  “No,” Solomon whispered as he felt Zaria’s life force fade through the ring’s power. The world seemed to move in slow motion as her body hit the ground, a crumpled wreck.

  Solomon could see Tiza’s axe swinging toward him out of the corner of his eye. He batted the blow aside without turning to face the orc shaman, without even bothering to raise his hammer. With his power surging unchecked, the axe posed no threat to his safety. Only the most potent magical weaponry or weapons wielded with a giant’s strength could harm one of the dragonkin. The sheer force of the offhanded blow shattered the shaman’s axe and knocked the orc aside.

  Solomon looked from Zaria’s corpse to the stone giant that had felled her with its spiked club. Hatred for the creature fueled Solomon’s rage, his anger like an out-of-control wildfire. Responding to Solomon’s mental nudge, Morgana shifted her form from a hammer to a long, slender sword. The blade darkened as Solomon pointed it toward the giant and leveraged his hatred, malice, and anger to invoke revenge. Using a combination of wind magic attributes, Solomon hurled a forked lightning spell toward the giant.

  As the bolt flew from the tip of his blade, Solomon noticed that his hatred had twisted his power and tainted it with void energies. The twisted forked lightning spell surged forward, splitting from one foe to another as it rippled through the space dividing Solomon and the giant. The single spell killed over seven hundred orcs, decimating the battlefield. Over a thousand purple lightning bolts surged into the giant, vaporizing it where it stood. The taint from the void magic left scars of corruption on both the fallen and the land itself. Solomon glanced around and saw that Tiza remained where she had fallen, looking around the battlefield with abject horror. In the distance, Kastytis could be heard sounding the retreat as Lord Ulric’s forces scrambled backwards, attempting to fall back and separate from the battle.

  Solomon left Tiza where she lay. There was no point in continuing to fight her when he could snuff out her life as if blowing out a candle. Instead, he ran across the field to see Zaria. Arriving at her side, he propped her up in his arms as he took in the damage. Zaria was very, very dead. The strike from the giant had shattered the young woman's bones, liquified her insides, and punctured her body. Gore covered her light armour and clothing.

  Even if she had still been alive when he got to her, the wound would have been mortal. Solomon’s mind was apace with thoughts on how he could restore life back into Zaria. Necromancy was frowned upon but was a common path to bring back the dead. He could attempt to raise her as a lich, zombie, skeletal mage, death mage, or some other type of undead thing. Each possibility came with its own costs and consequences. That is assuming that Zaria would even accept being reborn in such a way. Even if Solomon healed her body, removing each wound as if it had never been, she would still be undead. And even the best-preserved undead could never truly live alongside humans.

  “As it had never been,” Solomon said. He had realized another option existed for restoring Zaria – if he dared to try it. His death was just as likely as succeeding in bringing her back to life.

  Solomon could hear the voice of his goddess calling for him to stop, but he paid her pleas no mind. Concentrating inwards, Solomon took the wisps of Cortana’s soul that he had accidentally devoured and shoved them into the crack the goddess had placed in his curse. He hammered the wisps into a wedge, embiggening the gap and allowing his power to flow into his form with greater ease.

  His hair went from black to silver as his eyes went from grey to red, transforming Solomon from his suppressed human form and embracing his draconic power. Standing over Zaria’s corpse, Solomon used his enhanced power to bring up a temporary barrier to protect him from assault as he attempted to restore Zaria’s life.

  “Fire, water, wind, and earth,” Solomon said, pointing to the northeast, southeast, northwest, and southwest. Each element materialized as a pulsating orb of pure elemental power. “Heed my call! By my power, be constrained!”

  “You cannot do this,” Kruonis spoke to him, her divine presence crushing him beneath its weight.

  “Watch me.” Solomon mentally snarled at her. “By the light and shadow, guard me! Arcane barrier!”

  Solomon could see the shock and awe in Zaldimere’s face from across the battlefield. His draconic power flowed freely throughout his form as the barrier established itself. An arcane barrier was considered the highest tier of barrier magic, particularly when most barrier spells only leveraged light element magic.

  “Not even you can restore the soul to a body.” Kruonis pleaded. “That power is denied even to the divine.”

  “Then I will surpass even you,” Solomon said. He raised Morgana in spell blade form and wielded the blade as an athame to direct his power. He could sense the trepidation from Morgana as he lifted her over Zaria’s corpse.

  Using his sword to guide his power, Solomon leveraged his arcane power to tap into the fabric of time. He carefully targeted Zaria’s thread and started to rewind the passage of time. The power drain was immense and immediate.

  “Stop this,” Kruonis said. “Time magic is forbidden for a good reason.”

  Zaria’s wounds had barely twitched, yet Solomon knew he could not sustain the magic for long. Despair threatened to devour him for but a moment – then he looked internally. He had to find the strength to endure this. He recalled the change that Kastytis had undergone when Solomon had broken the curse on the swordsman earlier. While the curse on Solomon was stronger, what other options did Solomon have if he wished to reverse the truth that time had etched into history? He threw all his power behind the wedge – the pressure causing the crack to widen and other parts of the curse to fray.

  Solomon pushed through, screaming from the pain, sadness, and frustration until he managed to shatter the curse. Solomon felt power like he had never imagined flow through him and fuel his spell as the curse shattered. But the power was not just flowing into his spell – his blood, free from the decades-long curse, was finally free to work its magic unhindered.

  His scream became louder as Solomon became the focal point of more magic than he could safely handle. Yet he endured, watching as Zaria’s wounds began to close. The magic raised her body from the ground. Solomon saw Zaria’s soul link re-establishing and restoring itself as the grievous strike was reversed. As the final cut was healed, Solomon released Zaria from his spell. As Zaria’s eyes opened, Solomon cast another spell, teleporting her behind the fighting warriors to where Lord Ulric and Kastytis had stood and watched his magic. He had a moment to see her standing in front of Lord Ulric, dazed and confused before he lost the final fragments of his control over his magic.

  Solomon felt a tinge of satisfaction – he had done what his goddess had decried as impossible. He had rewound time and resurrected Zaria. And not as one of the undead, she was restored as if she had never died. Reality trembled as the backlash from Solomon’s actions set in.

  Solomon’s magic erupted as a torrent of power, thrashing and pulsating within the impenetrable barrier he had established. The spell cracked, leaking small amounts of energy through it. Flares of pure energy streaked out and killed those it touched. Solomon could not tell if this was his power raging out of control without the curse’s constraints or if this was the magic rebound of using time magic.

  “Both. It is both.” Kruonis said the goddess's voice tinged with anger, and her voice seemed pained. “You pushed yourself too far, too fast. Your body had not fully adjusted to a fragment of your power, and you unleashed all of it. My blessing sustains you, but you must regain control.”

  “How?” Solomon thought. “I feel like I am being torn apart.”

  “The curse was intended to camouflage you from those who would harm you – but it came with a cost. Your memories of your childhood and your dragonkin bloodline power were sealed.” The goddess explained. “You need to remember and let go of your fear.”

  Had the situation been different, Solomon may have had to laugh. He was suspended in the air by a torrent of power, nay, a font of power. The magical force reverberated around him, pulsating. Threatening to tear him apart and shred his soul. Solomon took a deep breath and then another. Then he reached out into the raging mental and physical energies and seized hold of the fluctuating power.

  The magic within his blood boiled within his body, threatening to burst forth. Solomon did his best to banish his fears and allow the magic to finish what he started – to enable it to fully transform him into his dragonkin form. His hair grew longer, forming a massive mane that flowed down his backside, a silky white defence with each hair acting as an unbreakable thread. His nails whitened, becoming bone as the backside of his hand formed larger and thicker scales. Two angled horns burst forth from his head as Solomon thrashed in the air.

  “I will not let my fear rule me!” Solomon shouted. “I will not fade quietly into the darkness! I am forged anew!”

  From his back erupted armoured wings and a spiked tail. Solomon’s cloak was thrown back by his wings as they flared wide, stabilizing Solomon as the magical energies began to fade.

  “Well done,” Kruonis said. “You successfully shifted into your dragonkin form.”

  With his true dragonkin form under control, Solomon looked out upon the battlefield. Imposing his will onto his spell blade, he changed its form into a large morning star. He leapt into the fray, soaring into the orc army with lethal force. Breaking their will, Solomon caused the orcs near him to scatter. Gesturing at the river, Solomon used magic to raise the riverbank and separate Ulric’s forces from the orcish threat. Then Solomon looked at the orcs fleeing front ranks and knew that he had to do more if he wished to halt the advance of the rest of their army. Raising his free hand, he cast a meteor strike spell while parrying a blow from an ogre.

  The flames spread amongst the trees quickly. The orc army broke and turned to flee as fire rained down upon them. Solomon continued to fight the orcs that he encountered, permitting no escape.

  “By fire, be purged,” Solomon said. Of the ten thousand orcs that had been a part of the orcish horde, only a few hundred would survive the day.

  “While I appreciate being free of the curse that was suppressing my powers, maybe, just maybe, consider the ramifications of your actions next time,” Kastytis said. The old soldier had his head in his hands. After the battle, Lord Ulric had ordered that Kastytis would need to join Solomon in the dungeon. Despite the grim situation, both prisoners were in jubilant moods.

  “Sorry, I did not mean to have you actually join me in my cell,” Solomon said ruefully. “I know that I said that you should join me, but I did not mean it literally. I was just excited because I recognized the cursed seal that was entwined around you and realized that you could be a lead to my own past.”

  “I might be,” Kastytis said. “I can tell you my story if you want. What else do you normally do down here?”

  “I use my magic to take on astral form and wander the wilds, seeking adventure and all that. Sometimes I make my astral form semi-solid so that I can read books in the library.” Solomon said.

  “I do not have the needed words to convey how that makes me feel,” Kastytis said. “I guess it is storytime.”

  “Excellent,” Solomon said as he moved to lean casually on the cell wall, gesturing for Kastytis to sit on the lone bed. It was a small kindness, but all Solomon could do given the circumstances. As one of the lesser dragonkin, Kastytis did not have mastery over magic, just additional protection and strength over the mortal races. Neither was trapped in the dungeon – even barehanded. Their superhuman strength would enable either to rip the cell door apart and walk free.

  “About twenty-two or so years ago, I served the Empress before she was murdered by a high-ranked demon in the capitol. I was a member of her royal guard and, alongside a childhood friend of mine, one of her personal guards.” Kastytis said. “Jurate and I had protected her for several decades.”

  “How old are you?” Solomon interrupted to ask.

  “You tend to lose track as one of the dragonkin,” Kastytis said. “Time is different for us, even when the bloodline runs thin. I would be considered middle-aged, about thirty-five to forty in a human’s lifespan. I have lived for over three hundred years, though, and I will live another three hundred unless I am laid low by a sword or weakened through sickness.”

  “That is incredible,” Solomon said. “With lifespans as long as the elves, but more ferocity and power, no wonder the king fears us.”

  “Not us,” Kastytis said. “You.”

  “Me? Why me?” Solomon asked, confused.

  “You saw me on the battlefield when we fought the orcs,” Kastytis said quietly. “I am stronger than the average soldier, sure, but I am not a threat when pitted against an army. You could have taken the entire army of orcs, all ten thousand or so, alone. I am sure you will only become stronger as you grow into your power.”

  “I still do not have full control over my powers,” Solomon said. “I nearly let Zaria die.”

  Kastytis grunted. “She did die; we all saw it. She died, and you reversed her time, enabling her to skip her death event in the timeline. For her, time skipped a beat. For the rest of us, though, she is reborn through your power.”

  A brief silence settled over the two warriors. Solomon knew that Kastytis was correct in his description. It was hard for Solomon to not feel as though he had failed Zaria by letting her experience death, even if he had reversed the event. The memory of feeling her life force snuffed out through the ring he had given her was still enough to stir his emotions into an angry frenzy.

  “Regardless, you wanted to know more about me as a lead-in to your own past,” Kastytis said, recognizing the darkening expression on Solomon’s face as dangerous and moving the conversation forward. “On the day of her death, Empress Ausrine had leapt into combat alone. She had left a maid, Jurate, and me to guard her two children. The maid had a magicked token, ensorcelled by the Ausrine to protect us if her children’s lives were endangered. While she was fighting, an assassin slipped in, and the maid snapped the token in two. The powerful magic grabbed the five of us and worked to transport us out of immediate danger – at the cost of Ausrine’s life.”

  “Where did it teleport you to?” Solomon asked.

  “Well, in my case, I was dumped into the nearby river and nearly drowned as I was wearing a fair amount of armour,” Kastytis said. “I walked to the target location, hoping to find the others, but they weren’t there. My suspicion has always been that the spell failed midway through with the death of the Empress.”

  “Did you ever find any of them after that?” Solomon said.

  “I never found Jurate or the young princess. I did find the maid – although she was never very friendly with me, so we agreed to forget about each other,” Kastytis said. “As for the young prince, I think I am sitting in the same cell as him now.”

  “That is not possible,” Solomon said, despite hearing the echo of the truth spoken by his goddess earlier. “I cannot be the lost prince.”

  “When Lord Ulric found you, you were the right age and mostly correct appearance. Just thrown three years forward. Like how I was no longer detectable as dragonkin, you too did not seem to be of the bloodline.” Kastytis explained. “Lord Ulric, much to the shock and dismay of many, took you in as a guest because of our suspicions.”

  “Why did he name me Solomon then if I was the son of the Empress?” Solomon asked, genuinely curious.

  “Well, he couldn’t very well go around calling you Prince Kruonis,” Kastytis said. “There was a prophecy about you and your sister, Princess Kruonai. It was a dark prophecy, and Lord Ulric wanted you to experience peace. Solomon is the name of an ancient god-king, and the name is supposed to mean ‘peaceful one.’ Even if some may interpret it as the solo monster.”

  Kastytis looked old suddenly and very tired. The warrior got off the worn cell bed and knelt before Solomon. “Solomon Dragonstar, also known as Kruonis Dragonstar, named thusly after the goddess of time. As with your mother before you, I would swear an oath of fealty to you. Will you accept an old soldier into your service?”

  Solomon’s mouth felt as dry as he responded. “In the name of my goddess, Kruonis, the goddess of time, I, Solomon, accept Kastytis into my service. His life belongs to me and me alone to spend as I see fit.”

  “Thank you, my prince,” Kastytis said.

  “Your first order: never call me that again,” Solomon said. “Stick with calling me Solomon unless otherwise directed. The last thing I need is the king thirsting for my blood more than he already is.”

  “As you wish, Solomon,” Kastytis said. “I doubt it will make a difference to King Nathair, though. He has always despised the dragonkin. I still suspect that he is the one responsible for the archdemon that killed the Empress. He will be determined to see you dead no matter the cost. What are your plans?”

  “My plans are simple, really,” Solomon said. “I had wanted to officially purchase the land a few hours from here, where I have used a combination of my magic and ingenuity to craft my sanctuary. Since that location is compromised, I will just pick another out-of-the-way area to live.”

  “That certainly is an option,” Kastytis said cautiously. “But the king will never halt the search, nor will his descendants. And there is the matter of your sister to consider.”

  “My sister? You mean the lost princess, Kruonai?” Solomon asked uneasily. “What of her?”

  “I could never find her or Jurate,” Kastytis said. “If you would search for them, they could provide further insight into your past. Please, consider it.”

  “I will give it some thought. Leads on their locations may surface as I search for a good location to live in exile.” Solomon said. “Thank you for telling me your story.”

  “Your wish is my command, Solomon,” Kastytis replied.

  “In that case, feel free to entertain yourself,” Solomon said. “I am going to wander around in astral form.”

  “Wake up!” Kastytis said, his voice low and urgent. It had been a few days since they had been imprisoned, most of which Solomon had spent in astral form. The night air was cold and brisk in their cell. “Something is wrong. Wake up!”

  “What is going on?” Solomon said, snapped to alertness.

  “There is a weird feeling in the air, a taint,” Kastytis explained. “Earlier, I heard screams in the distance followed by a scramble of activity and shouting.”

  “I can look into it,” Solomon said. He paused just before entering his astral form with a thought. He placed his hand on the stone floor and used his magic to gather ore fragments. Solomon then formed it into a makeshift sword for Kastytis and offered it to the warrior. “Actually, before I check it out, take this sword and defend me in case something happens.”

  Solomon leapt into his astral form without waiting for a response and flitted away to search for the disturbances. He did not need to go far. There were fresh spirits in the area, consumed by their terror. Solomon could sense pockets of otherness here and there in the night, striking regular citizens and soldiers alike. Using his magic, he followed one of the creatures until he caught a glimpse of it. It was a vampire, a former human twisted by a demonic curse and necromancy then boosted by void magic. Accompanying the vampire was several freshly undead zombies, collected by convenience whenever someone was in the vampire’s path.

  The vampire, existing between the state of life and death, eternally preserved as one of the undead, could see Solomon in his astral form. When he spoke, it was in a dialect used by nobility centuries ago. “You are not a spirit. You must be wielding spirit magic, as I can sense the linkage back to your physical form. That must make you our target, the dragonkin mageknight. Solomon?”

  “That name has known me,” Solomon said. He maintained a cautious distance from the vampire, wary of its preternatural abilities. Solomon was struck by how similar this occurrence was to when he met Tiza, the orc shaman. Previously, Solomon had been under the impression that usage of spirit magic and necromancy were rare and seldomly occurred without intentional training to develop the power. Now he realized that disdain and distaste for the school of magic was the real limiter. The vampire was formerly a human and based on tomes about the undead; when mortals underwent the vampiric transformation, their magical affinity did not change, only their perspectives. Vampires who had been healers in life, wielding light, and water magic, could even move around in direct sunlight by manipulating the rays of daylight around them.

  “Where are you?” The vampire asked. “My coven searches for you under the orders of our leader.”

  “Why me?” Solomon asked.

  “The blood of one of the dragonkin promises great power,” The vampire said. “And I believe Elessa has other motives as well. The spell you used when you channelled void energy, the demonic devastation ability, was impressive. If you submit to me, you could save many lives.”

  “I do not think so,” Solomon said. He could sense the many dead villagers killed as the vampires targeted the keep. Even the guards stood little chance against their superhuman agility and strength. Taking measure of the vampire, Solomon opted to return to his cell. He allowed his astral form to dissipate, noting the vampires’ look of shock as he raced back into his physical body.

  “Vampires,” Solomon said as he sat up and looked at Kastytis. “First, a demon raids a village. Then the king wanted me dead. Then an army of orcs wanted me dead. Now a coven of vampires wants my blood.”

  “A coven?” Kastytis said. “You should feel honoured; vampire elders rarely take such brazen risks as assaulting an entire city, let alone one that has a keep and a lord.”

  “I fail to see the honour in this,” Solomon said.

  “I suppose several weeks of misfortune would make me feel the same. It is hard to see the light when you are drowning in darkness,” Kastytis said. “It is rare for a vampire elder to have their coven gathered like this, in any case. They want you badly.”

  “I am going to alert Zaria,” Solomon said, unable to keep a tinge of bitterness from entering his voice. Since her death and ‘resurrection’ during the orcs’ battle, Zaria had not visited Solomon or Kastytis in their cell. Solomon closed his eyes and located Zaria’s mind through his telepathic link with her ring. Zaria, hear my voice! Vampires are assaulting the keep and the surrounding city.

  Solomon felt his heart soar when he heard her thoughts respond to his message. I can hear you, Solomon. Zaldimere and I are going to work with a few of the holy priests to fight them off.

  No! Solomon felt his thoughts waver with fear and the memory of Zaria’s recent combat. There would be no guarantee that he would be able to reverse her death again if Zaria were to fall once more in battle. Gather all you can into the chapel in the keep. Use the sanctified grounds to rebuff the vampires; their void energies cannot endure ground blessed with light magic.

  “Understood.” Zaria’s thoughts surged with too many different emotions, and Solomon could not follow them completely. He could only hope that she would convince everyone to listen to her.

  “They are aware of the vampires,” Solomon said to Kastytis. “I have asked them to gather in the chapel.”

  “That is a good strategic move,” Kastytis said. The old warrior paused, deep in thought, before continuing. “What are your orders for me, Solomon?”

  “Go to the chapel and help defend them,” Solomon instructed, waving his hand at the cell door, disintegrating it. “Are you able to keep up with vampiric speed?”

  “Not quite; I am not you,” Kastytis said. “What I lack in speed, though, I make up with experience and skill.”

  Solomon summoned Morgana in blade form to his hand, gesturing for the older warrior to go ahead. He could not help but marvel at how natural the connection to the sentient arcane elemental felt.

  “It is time to add vampire slayer to my list of crimes,” Solomon said.