Path of Dragons

Book 6: Chapter 24: A War of Aggression

Book 6: Chapter 24: A War of Aggression

Miguel ripped his spear from the Voxx, then whipped around to see Trevor trampling one he’d already injured. No matter his preference for swordplay, the spear was a superior weapon against the Voxx. The extra reach it provided was invaluable, and it was much easier to use. No wonder his mother had preferred it.

As Trevor finished the fallen Voxx, Miguel searched the area for any additional foes. There were none there, which was a welcome change. For the past hour since entering Norcastle, he’d been fighting almost nonstop. All of his opponents had been Voxx, but he’d also seen plenty of evidence that something else was at play. After all, Voxx weren’t known for burning down buildings.

He gestured at Trevor, saying, “Come on. It’s dead.”

The stag gave the creature one last kick, then followed Miguel as he made his way down the street. There were dead bodies scattered all around, though less than he would have expected, given Norcastle’s population. That gave him hope that some of them had survived whatever had happened.

Increasingly, he’d come to the conclusion that the tower had experienced a surge – which didn’t make any sense. According to the notification he’d seen regarding the Trial of Primacy, such mechanics were supposed to have been suspended until the event’s conclusion. But the evidence suggested otherwise. After all, the Voxx had to have come from somewhere, and while it was theoretically possible that they were all the result of spontaneous manifestations, that didn’t seem very likely, given the numbers at play.

It was a mystery, and one Miguel didn’t have time to investigate. Instead, he’d resolved to ascertain the fate of the natives of Norcastle, then continue on his way. Anything else would take too long.

So, on he searched. Along the way, he looked through some abandoned shops, finding them mostly empty. What he did find seemed worthless, though he did pocket a few scattered ethereum he stumbled across. The owners, whose bodies had been close by, wouldn’t miss them, he reasoned.

As he and Trevor made their way through town, the stag grew ever more restless. Every step came with a furtive glance, and Miguel got the impression that his companion only remained within the city because of the bond they shared. Otherwise, the deer would have long since fled. That realization was both troubling and reassuring. The former, because if Trevor was spooked, then there was probably a good reason. But his continued presence was comforting because of the implications. He refused to abandon Miguel, even when every instinct told him to run.

Eventually, Miguel found his way to the ancient castle that was the city’s namesake. It looked to him like something out of a movie set in medieval times, though it did bear a few nods to modernity. Like the metal signs out front declaring it the center of the local government. Or the unlit ethereal lamps.

Miguel hadn’t seen much of the castle during his previous visit, but he knew that, in addition to being the headquarters of the city’s bureaucracy, it was also home to the Branch of the World Tree. More than that, like most castles, it had originally been built for defense and had served that purpose in the direct aftermath of Earth’s transformation. Because of that, he suspected that if there were any survivors, he would find them within the castle’s walls.

So, it was with some hope in his heart that he approached the stone fortress. Unsurprisingly, he found the gates barred. He glanced at Trevor, then at the top of the wall. “Think you can get up there?”

Trevor looked at him like he’d asked the stupidest question in existence. So, without further hesitation, Miguel climbed atop the stag’s back, then urged him forward. Trevor responded by taking a running leap, bounding off a plane of moonlight, then soaring over the wall. He hit the ground on the other side, then turned an excited circle. Clearly, he hadn’t been quite as confident as he’d pretended.

Miguel patted the stag’s neck, then looked around the courtyard. It was deserted, save for a few rapidly decomposing Voxx bodies that filled the air with an acrid scent.

“Stop!” shouted someone from one of the arrow slits above the main door. Miguel looked up to see an arrow pointed in his direction.

Raising his hands in surrender, he announced, “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m a messenger from Ironshore, and I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Ironshore? How’d you get through all the Voxx?”

“I fought them,” Miguel said evenly. “Can I put my hands down now?”

“How do we know you’re not with them?”

“With the Voxx? I don’t think they have allies,” he answered.

“No. Them. Those purple-skinned elves.”

“Oh…”

That was one piece of the puzzle that finally slid into place. It seemed that the dark elves beneath the mountain had spread much further than anyone in Ironshore had expected. But there was still one major question that needed to be answered. Before that, though, Miguel had a job to do, and he couldn’t accomplish his task from the courtyard.

“Can you let me inside? I came here on a diplomatic mission,” he said. “I have a message for whoever’s in charge.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

There was some discussion inside, but even with his slightly enhanced senses, he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. So, he had no option but to wait until they came to some sort of decision. Finally, a feminine voice spoke over the others, pointing out that they couldn’t just remain holed up in the castle for all of eternity. “Ironshore has strong fighters. They can help us,” she pointed out. No one seemed to have any answer to that, so it was only a few more moments before the heavy doors swung open to reveal a corridor.

Miguel crossed the bailey, then entered the keep. Upon stepping inside, it immediately became apparent that the interior had been built with defense in mind. The hall was lined with murder holes and arrow slits, and the residents had further fortified the hall by piling sandbags into a makeshift wall.

The only problem was that most of those arrow slits and murder holes were unmanned, indicating that there weren’t that many survivors within the castle. He stepped forward, still atop Trevor’s back. Thankfully, the arched ceiling was tall enough to accommodate his mounted height.

When he reached the end of the corridor, he crossed into the keep proper, where he was met by a trio of people. One was a young woman – maybe in her early twenties. Another was a tall, slender man with a military bearing, and the final person was a short, stout man with an elaborate tattoo crawling up his neck. Miguel knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but the last figure’s demeanor – as well as the cauliflower ears – marked him as a man who was no stranger to a fight.

“My name is Miguel Rodriguez,” he announced, slipping from Trevor’s back. He was unwilling to disarm himself, so his spear remained in his hand. “And as I said, I have a message from Ironshore. Who should I give it to?”

“I’ll take it,” said the tall, slim man.

At that, Miguel unslung his pack, then retrieved a sealed letter, which he handed to the man. After that, he stepped backward and waited for a response.

And as he watched the man’s expression, he knew it wouldn’t be positive. When he finished, he said, “This is not the news we wanted.”

“What happened?” Miguel asked.

The trio exchanged glances, then the woman began, “It happened about three weeks ago. They hit us just after the last convoy left.”

“Before that,” the heavyset man grunted, grunted in a cockney accent. “People’ve been goin’ missin’ for weeks, mate. We just thought it was beasts or something. We know better now. It was those damned elves.”

After that, the woman – who introduced herself as Jess – went on, explaining how the dark elves had attacked the city unprovoked. The raid killed a few hundred people, but they mostly focused on taking anything that wasn’t nailed down.

“Then the Voxx came.”

“Was it a tower surge?”

Jess shook her head. “We don’t think so. The system wouldn’t lie. Plus…”

“Those bastards let ‘em loose,” the muscular man growled.

“We don’t know that, Mr. Barker,” said the slim man.

“You’re blind, Essex. A dozen people said they saw ‘em lettin’ those monsters loose.”

“Frightened people in the dead of night,” Essex argued. “No chance of any mistakes there, right? The fact is that we’ve never heard of anyone taming Voxx. As far as we know, it isn’t even possible.”

“Nothin’ is impossible,” said Barker.

Miguel chose that moment to interrupt. “What is your plan now?” he asked. “I think the way is mostly clear, so you can probably leave the castle and clear out any Voxx that are left. Or…”

“Or what?” asked Essex. It seemed that he was in charge, but the others had a say as well.

“How many people do you have left?” he asked.

“A few thousand, most of them packed into this castle like sardines,” Barker said. “This place was never meant to hold that many.”

“Fighters? Or noncombatant?”

“About thirty-seventy,” answered Jess. “Mostly noncombatants.”

Miguel tapped his chin, but before he could give voice to his idea, Essex said, “I know what you’re thinking. You want to lead us to Ironshore.”

“We can’t!” Jess said. “We have too many wounded, and –”

“They won’t get better in this castle, girl,” Barker said. “If anything, it’ll just get worse. Especially if the elves come back, which they will. Mark my words, they’ll come back to finish what they started.”

After that, Miguel listened to the trio argue about the issue, and their desperation quickly became clear. He didn’t have many years under his belt, but even he could see that they were in dire straits. And it wasn’t difficult to see why. The dark elves had taken so much, and the Voxx had descended upon the city, doing what they did best. That so many had survived was a small miracle.

What Miguel really wanted to know was how the dark elves had managed to harness the vicious monsters for their own gains. Was it a class? Or had they simply caught the creatures and imprisoned them until it was time to let them loose? Was that even possible? Either situation was frightening, but the former was far more worrying.

The conversation went on for a while until, at last, they came to the conclusion that seemed so obvious to Miguel.

“We can’t say here,” Essex said. “The dark elves will be back. Mr. Barker is right. Will Ironshore welcome us?”

Miguel nodded. “There is strength in numbers,” he said. “When will you leave?”

“Immediately. We have a few Explorers who can help us avoid the most dangerous parts of the wilderness,” Essex explained. “Hopefully, that will be enough to help us survive.”

That was good enough for Miguel, and it wasn’t long after that when Jess offered him the opportunity to rest. He chose to take her up on it, so long as Trevor could be accommodated. Fortunately, that wasn’t an issue, and he was escorted deeper into the keep. Along the way, he got a glimpse of the aftermath of Norcastle’s fall. True to Barker’s claim, the survivors were packed into the castle, and the vast majority of them looked malnourished, weak, and, in many cases, injured.

So, Miguel only stayed for a few hours, taking the opportunity to eat a few of his rations before he’d had enough. He wasn’t as antisocial as his uncle, but he definitely had no interest in submerging himself in the human misery present in that keep.

Predictably, he was asked to stay. As young as he was, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he had some level of power. However, he refused, using the excuse that he still had a mission before him. In truth, he just wanted to get back into the wilderness where things made more sense.

So it happened that by nightfall, he was racing through the fields surrounding Norcastle as he made his way toward Argos. As Trevor ran, Miguel could only hope that the refugees could survive the trip to Ironshore. Not only would it be best for them, but the fighters who managed to make it would go a long way toward shoring up the city’s defenses.

However, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough. If the dark elves could harness the power of the Voxx, was victory against them even possible? It was with those dark thoughts as company that he continued his journey.