The Column of Ash [Epic Fantasy]

The plains around Sino Point were flat, dusty, and now, with the late Fall weather, bitter with harsh winds and frigid nights. The dreadful emptiness was occasionally interrupted by a scattered copse of thin oaks and cottonwoods around streams or in the shadows of northern hills. And so, in Oskar's opinion, that just made it all the more impressive that a city like Sino Point could exist in a place like this. It had tall walls of stone dug from local quarries and was further protected on its south and east sides by a river that thinned and split into various streams the further it went, and it sat on one of those slight hill rises that gave it a good view over the land. Not an easy nut to crack. Most towns and cities weren't usually so well-walled, but all of Sino Point was enshelled in a twenty-foot stone curtain wall with occasional towers and gatehouses.

As they camped in a thin stretch of woods to the north of the city, they could see men gathering there. It was too early to have an army ready—they'd have to be paid and fed, after all, and Vasia's invasion was supposed to come in Spring—but there were the beginnings of war camps. Nothing big, but they were there. More telling, however, were the walls. Weak points patched, scaffolding erected to rebuild a degraded section, and even an outer palisade with a trench was being built on the western side. They were getting ready for a siege, alright.

He suspected they'd be hoarding grain, too, though it was hard to tell from a distance if that were true. Damn, how he wished for a good set of spies at times like these.

One day, when he and his few men were eating around a small fire, one of the druzhina spotted activity outside Sino Point. Oskar walked to the edge of the trees and frowned out at the sight of a few hundred men lined up and drilling with spears. They practiced thrusts, forming up in a line, and basic movements of turning and marching. The armies of the Free Cities were mostly volunteer as the need arose—usually to deal with large amounts of Dead or harassment from their neighbors, but never war. This was altogether different for them.

And it looked like the bastards were taking it in stride.

"Shit," he muttered, watching the scene. "This isn't good."

"They're just volunteers, Boyar. Two hundred at most."

"For now. How many in five months when we're moving against them?"

The druzhina named Thovin nodded, rubbing his whiskered chin with a frown to match Oskar's own. "They're taking it seriously."

"That's the problem. I want overconfidence, not this." He looked at the ones training the men. "They'll have horsemen, too. No druzhina, but they'll be a pain to deal with… A siege will be a fucking nightmare, harassed at the back, everyone burned and thirsty from the summer sun. We'll need to feed an army on land stripped empty." Oskar groaned just thinking about it. And he was to be in charge of the Veterian forces? By the gods, the only way it could be worse is if they were caught with their pants around their ankles by the Targul, too. Good thing there were no armies anywhere near the Free Cities, according to civilian reports.

His frown deepened. No, I can't be overconfident. Those savages can move fast. Their northern armies are horsemen, mostly. A protracted siege will be bad for us, stuck outside. He squinted east past the city. Open plains, if one could get around the river. Enough room for a thousand horsemen to move, sure enough. He looked north. They were in some woods that spread out from rolling hills where more rivers cut through, disappearing into the plains once again. Assuming the Targul came across the Tulir Steppes instead of the Silver Peaks—which was a fine assumption, in Oskar's opinion, there was only this narrow funnel of empty land between Sino Point and these woods where horsemen could maneuver. And unless the Targul forded the river, cut south around hills and plateaus, then came about on the Vasian's western flank, they'd have to fight them here in this quarter-mile stretch of open ground north of Sino Point.

And knowing the Targul, if they saw an opening, they would commit. They were not a people to sit back and analyze all options before cautiously choosing the best. At least, that was what he'd heard about them and seen in mercenaries, for the most part.

Could he force an engagement there in that open ground if need be? Maybe. A long trench. A forest full of stakes, and maybe some archers and spearmen to sit behind it… It would be difficult, but with enough resources, they could do it. Shit, now I'm almost glad to have threatened every merchant in Ltava for silver.

Still, all that being said, it didn't make a siege any more appealing.

"They'll have local boys on the walls," he muttered to the others, eyes still on the city. "From the area, maybe other Free Cities… No discipline or loyalty to any commanders beyond their own people, I'd wager."

One by one, they nodded, understanding where he was going with this. Eventually, Thovin spoke up, "They see smoke, and they'll come running."

"That's right." He let out a great sigh. Why did war always have to come to this shit? Why couldn't he march his army against the opponent's and win with good training and a nice cavalry charge? But no. The smart thing was the dreadful thing. The sinister thing. "They won't fit everyone in their city. I know for a fact Ermenik doesn't have walls like this, and that's where most of the outside support will be from, based on distance alone."

"So, we'll draw them out by hitting their homes," Thovin said with an equal amount of regret and disdain. No good man liked to raid people. But then, losing your friends in a stupid assault on high walls was worse.

Oskar turned from the edge of the woods and strode back to camp, stomping out the fire. It was only lunchtime. "We're going back. We've seen enough." He thought of Milava, his wife… His fucking wife… Imagined someone cutting her down just because she was married to a warrior. Dammit. He put his hands on his hips and stared into the empty blue sky. "I'll need to get some men from the voivode. We'll come back out here and try our hand at resolving this, er… diplomatically."

"Sir?"

"Capturing someone important and forcing surrender." Oskar forced a grin. "Better than burning land you're trying to conquer, I say."

He set to saddling his horse, not facing his men. Truth was, he was going soft. Used to be a time he didn't worry about such things. But he couldn't stop thinking about Milava, about it happening to her, or, gods damn his weakness, the look on her face when she found out what the man she called her own did to a village of innocents. Or maybe even worse, he thought of Feia and what had happened to her home and her family. He thought himself a better man than those deserters, and maybe he was, but war had a cruel way of turning all that up on its head.

…

The mountains were frigid and unforgiving. We found Dead almost everywhere—some of them Reavers with curious features and traits. Some were animalistic, for instance, and hunted my men like predators in the night. We destroyed them without any losses, of course. I tried to repurpose them but found their Souls rebellious to my Sorcery, almost like they were bound to another, though they were obviously not. It was odd. Perhaps it had something to do with the Ruin of Kremya that we'd passed. No matter, I did not need more Dead out here. My few Soulborne and personal guard were enough. Ignatia alone was as dangerous as all my men, perhaps more so.

But we were far from home, and I was aching to be back with Demetria. I felt her bond, distantly, and the sensation was comforting, offering some respite from the cold, ambivalent mountain range paired with my dispassionate purpose here.

And so it was with some trepidation and relief that we spotted the hills of what was once Pethya, ruined and lifeless. Upon them, distantly, was my Grand Observatory, meant to be the most important wonder of the world. And now, my sister called it home to some project? What? Reconstruction? I could see no purpose for her efforts, for she still seemingly disapproved of Sorcery. Was she trying to repurpose it? I'd considered such things on the ride here, but there was no way to know unless I spoke to her. Ignatia feared the worst, increasingly suspicious of Maecia, her former ruler. I asked the men their thoughts on her plans, curious to an outsider's perspective. Red Locc and Aelle shrugged in response, but Bowyer and Wendof gave me more thorough answers.

"First, I ask why she'd leave New Petha," Bowyer said at night as we all sat around a large fire, my Dead patrolling around us. "She tried to give them autonomy, it seems. She wanted them to be independent in her absence, so it wasn't out of necessity. No, I think this mission here is part of something bigger. Revenge against Vasia could make sense, but then, why wait so long? It might have to do with Sorcery. Maybe she wants sufficient power to wipe them away for good? Or if it began due to your awakening, she needed to accelerate her plan at the Observatory."

"You think it's a weapon?" I asked.

"Maybe. But it's something big. Not some floating city or even a tool for resurrection." His face darkened. "It might be like the weapon we found in Novakrayu. The one with Lady Demetria's guard inside…"

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"What destroyed Arkia," Ignatia muttered in Vasian. "Killed lot my people."

"Perhaps. I don't know enough about Sorcery to say for sure. But she's acting on her own, so I would say she doesn't want you or anyone else to find out about it. So it must be extreme."

I gestured to Wendof, who looked as if he wished to speak. He shrugged at Bowyer's words and tossed a small stone into the fire. "If she's afraid of this priest fellow you've mentioned, sir, she'll want something to fight him. I think Bowyer's right on that point. This could be the way."

I sensed something withheld in his tone. "Speak."

"Well, what if it's about Sorcery itself. What if she wants to stop him by getting rid of it?"

"You can't get rid of Sorcery," Aelle said with a snort.

"Well, what if she could, I don't know, block it or something?" He looked at me. "Is it possible?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

"Then let's be ready for that. Our army depends on Sorcerers and Dead. If she blocked it…"

Bowyer frowned. "That would be a disaster."

"Right… Might be best to get ready to destroy the construction."

"No," I said harshly, then caught myself and tensed my jaw in forced consideration. "Ah, you may be right. But if there's a chance I can rebuild the Grand Observatory and get it working, then I need to keep it intact."

"What about the Column, sir? Doesn't it do the same thing?"

"Yes, but it's not in our hands. And it might be too dangerous to use. That was how the priests took form and almost killed me." I looked west. "We need a fallback option."

They were silent after that. I didn't know if they believed me, for I hardly believed myself. The Grand Observatory was one of my greatest working achievements, even if it wasn't quite functional yet. If it could be repaired, then I wanted to see that through. I wouldn't lose Demetria to an assassination or ambush with no recourse. Nor anyone else. Besides, I owed it to Feia to try to bring her back. It was my foolhardy plan and messy execution that killed her in the end.

There were more ill portents on our journey, for as we'd left civilization, we'd heard of odd movements in the north at the border between Merkenia and Sadovoe. Some sort of migration, massive caravan, exodus, or military campaign—no one was certain, and the stories varied wildly. As it worried me, I'd sent a messenger back to Novakrayu to tell the Han and my people there for further follow-up. More complications, more conflict. I didn't have time for it. None of us did.

The days passed slowly for I itched to be at my Observatory, to see it, to speak to my sister. I also worried for Emalia and Sovina—they had gone to see her, but so far, we had not spotted them. There was no safer route than this, across the mountains, and so that meant that either they didn't get there or were still there. And they had no reason to linger, not with everything happening, with me to hypothetically inform. Would Maecia hurt them? No, not if they were my friends, surely. Perhaps she held them captive, unwilling to risk them revealing her plans. I hoped not. For their sake and for my sister's. I didn't wish her to be so far gone she'd go to such extremes against me.

As our group neared, I spotted a controlled Dead in the distance. They watched us, followed us. We were too large to assault, and they likely spotted my strength, giving them pause.

The pure, finely carved stone structure. Cylindrical, towering, beautiful. Dead outside watching us. Not many—only a half dozen or so Reapers. One of my Soulborne could handle two of theirs. The massive twin doors. I recalled their installation. Those early days when I was trying to move away from being the warlord the Vasians had made me into. How I watched them finishing my grand project, impatient, almost starving with readiness to set forth. Of course, I would not make significant progress for many years. But, at the end, I was so close; another year, maybe two, and I would have had it. I would have brought Demetria back. The doors parted as human men opened them, two more Reavers inside flanking another's approach toward my party.

She was almost as tall as I, with long silver-white hair that fell straight down her back—it framed a face of imperial, narrow features and penetrating, bloody red eyes. A smile came to my lips at the sight of her standing there in a simple dress, healthy and alive. She'd aged, overtaking me in years and showing it with the advent of wrinkles upon her brow, about her eyes. A thinness in the skin that clung to musculature in the neck and accentuated a sharpness in her jaw. And were her eyes a darker shade of red? It could just have been my imagination.

I stood with my arm to my side, hand clenched into a fist in anxious preparation as she stopped five strides from me. Distance for two strangers, not siblings.

I stook a step forward, smile wavering.

The look on her face made me pause. "Maecia," I breathed, almost fearful. "Will you not greet your brother?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why are you here?"

"To see you."

"No, I think not. It's about the Observatory, isn't it?"

"Stop it."

"You want to take it from me."

"Enough!" I shouted, breathing hard. "You abandoned me to Rotalaan, let me fight Vasia alone as you hid away. I know you've changed, Maecia, but I expect at least some love, some joy at our reunion! Or are you just a cold creature now?"

She looked me up and down as she chewed at her lip. "You've lost an arm."

"I had to fight the priests."

"Yes, the two women were with you."

"Emalia and Sovina. You have them?" I looked around but saw no one, and then thought better and scanned with Soulsight, not just for two humans, but for Protis. I spotted my Soulborne deep inside the Observatory, stationary. What is it doing there? "Are they prisoners, Maecia?"

"You should not have come here."

I frowned at her, trying to read her expression, tight and opaque. Why was she keeping everything so hidden? So buried? "I'm not your enemy," I whispered.

"I don't know what you are."

"Your brother."

"And what does that mean anymore?"

My mouth fell open. What was happening? "You were there for me in her death, damn you! You were the only one who truly understood. You fought with me against the Vasians all the way to Nova! And then you looked after me; you propped me up when I was too weak. Pethya wouldn't have lasted as long as it did without you by my side, Maecia. And now this?" I took another step forward. "Where is my sister? Where is she!"

"Gone. She was a façade that had to die," Maecia said, voice strangled. She glanced away, but I caught it anyway. The cold mask cracked, and I saw the tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Sorcery arced past me. I turned in horror, stunned as my personal guard was struck with Soulfire. Red Locc didn't even bring his axe out when he died, turned to ash and bones. Aelle shouted in shock and warning, yet fell all the same. The second arc of Sorcery smashed through my attempt at a ward and took six more men, including Bowyer, who was breaking into a sprint. His face bore an expression of fear that I hadn't seen before. And finally, Wendof, sword out, charging with a yell just forming in his throat. He collapsed in a scattered pile of bones.

My Soulborne moved, attacking Maecia's Dead. They made some immediate progress but were slain by her Soulfire as well. Ignatia fought back, deflecting an arc of Sorcery, killing some of Maecia's men who had weapons out, ready for a fight. I stared, shook myself, and willed that rebellious Sorcery into myself more fully as Ignatia blocked a sickly green ray with a Soul shield of sorts. Like when I protected us from the Vasian ambush here, years ago.

I extended a hand, reinforcing her defenses, then caught a glimpse of movement as two more Greyskins rushed to attack. I pulled the Souls from their bodies and launched it toward Maecia, not aiming to kill, but to distract. It worked. She stopped her assault on Ignatia and deflected my Spell. She was more powerful than before. Much more powerful.

"Stop!" I shouted, voice cracking. "Enough, Maecia!"

She did not respond but instead did something I'd never seen before. She formed a defensive shield, but not around herself. Instead, it surrounded me as if capturing me in a sphere of deflective Sorcery. I dodged and slashed at it, but the ward followed, absorbing my attack. No. I tried punching through with a focused curse meant for the most violent decay, but the ward only cracked. Beyond, Ignatia fought Maecia, who'd redoubled her efforts, pushing my loyal Sorcerer back.

I howled and tried again, smashing a hole, prying at it, breaking off another section with Sorcerous castings, then broke free. I focused on the fight. Ignatia was losing badly and quickly. She had but a few more moments before Maecia overpowered her. And I was not strong enough, even with all my Artifacts, to match my sister. Instead, I charged her. She spun, diverting a killing blow toward me, though it was weak, redirected. I slapped it aside and slammed into her, knocking her to the dirt. She gasped, and I sought out her Artifacts. Arm circlets, jewels upon the neck, finger rings. I ripped off what I could, and even with one arm, I was stronger than her. Each stolen Artifact elicited gasps of horrified loss. It was like having the breath knocked from you when it happened. I knew from experience.

And yet, before I could tear away any more, I heard a gasp. A voice I recognized.

I spared a glance. Emalia and Sovina were inside the Grand Observatory, barely visible, surrounded by six Reavers standing threateningly close. Protis was not with them, and I had no time to search for the Soulborne.

Maecia snarled up at me, "If I die, so do they."

"I'm not going to kill you!" I snapped back. "Dammit, Maecia. Surrender! Now!"

"You'll have to kill me."

"Stop this!"

"My work must continue. It must." She closed her eyes and breathed out. "If you do not surrender, I will kill you. Do not force my hand."

"You lack the upper hand to negotiate. I dictate the terms now…" And then I felt it. A well of immense Sorcery brimming beneath me, prepared to release. It was almost as much as I wielded that day, centuries ago, when I summoned the army of Dead as I faded from unconsciousness, to be captured by the Vasians. Even if I had brought my Sorcerous gambeson instead of leaving it with Demetria, I could scarcely survive this. "You wouldn't," I whispered.

"I am stronger than I was then."

"You would doom us all?"

She replied easily, "Yes."

"Do not negotiate with her!" Ignatia shouted from the side, sounding as if she were struggling.

I found her pinned by a Reaver. No, no, no! I stared down at Maecia. Who was this woman who claimed my sister's form? She was a stranger, a monster. "My sister would never do such a thing. Think of all the innocent lives you would be damning beyond this hilltop."

"I cannot hold this power forever. Surrender."

I wanted to beat her sane, to force her to revert back, to rid this darkness from her. But I couldn't. Indeed, I could do nothing but give up. Yet, I hesitated. It wouldn't just mean my loss, but this… monster's victory. I couldn't abide by that.

"You cannot kill me in time. It will happen," she said. "Now get off me and remove your Artifacts."

"You will not hurt anyone else. Not Emalia and Sovina, not Ignatia."

"If none interfere."

"I want your word. On Pethya and all those on the isle now."

"Kill her!" Ignatia shouted. "We cannot risk her return!"

"Your word!" I snapped.

Maecia glared back up at me. "I swear it on the lost."

I could risk a fight with the Dead, even the ones she threatened to summon. The others might die in the process, surrounded by Reavers as they were. Was that worth the risk? Could I justify such a thing? And then there was Maecia… I couldn't kill her. I was simply too weak.

I pulled off the diadem, arm rings, silver-white cloak, and most of my other Artifacts and stood, tossing them to the ground, weakened, vulnerable, and beaten.