He was the last warrior of the old gods, she was born with the power of the new. In a war for the soul of a kingdom, two enemies will find their biggest battle is resisting the other.
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Trigger warnings - strong language, violence, sex and re...
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Helia felt hollow. Drained of her powers, their absence left her feeling diminished. Exhausted to her very marrow, she felt like her life force had seeped from her bones. Clumsily, she stumbled after Agna, following her up a steep hill that left her panting. Around her, women, men and children heaved. She felt their sorrow, and tasted their salty tears on the breeze that urged them onward.
She twisted again, her eyes drawn back to the city. Its many churches, marketplaces and homes all burned - their ashes and the memories they contained floated towards the sky. Her uncle had never wanted to claim Clesia. He'd come to destroy it. A symbol of the one thing he wanted but would never be - a Chrysos. How many had died to fuel a desire so reckless it would tear down nations? She scanned the area outside the city walls, looking for the dark shadow that was the wolf. Her Vigar.
But no one else had left the city.
"Stop that." Agna snapped. Her thick Nordland accent weighed heavily on the clarity of her words. Her eyes narrowed in frustration.
"Where is he?"
Agna said nothing. Just kept walking. Her chest heaved, sweat dripped from her forehead as the sun beat down on them all.
"We're nearly there."
They kept striding ahead, but with every other step, Helia stopped and looked back. Searching for him. Her stomach knotted, twisted like coils of steel. Something was wrong. She felt it. Like the absence of her power, something was missing.
They reached the high point of the hill. Helia stopped and stood beside Agna as the people of Clesia and the Nordlings sped up, racing down towards the fleet of ships hovering like beacons in the river.
The crack ripped through the valley. Following the ear-splitting roar, the sound of destruction followed. Of stone and wood shattering. Helia turned to see that the keep was fully aflame. Around her, people screamed and yelled, falling to their knees.
She cried out at the sight of the castle collapsing in on itself like a fallen star. Of black smoke coiling and rising upwards, blocking out the sun. Of fire burning so fiercely, she raised her hand to shield her eyes. Her home, as she knew it, was gone. Her knees turned to liquid, and she gripped Agna to stay upright.
"That was his plan? He's..."
Agna peered at her through narrowed eyes, her face severe.
"Lure the Archid army into the keep, and let the shadowroot do the rest..."
Agna shrugged, but Helia could see the moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes.
He would never survive it. But she didn't crumble. Her spine turned to iron, her blood ignited in her veins. She had commanded him to live. So he was alive.
"Can you lead them as far as the defences on the river mouth? Wait for us there. I'm going back."
Clutching her skirts, Helia stepped forward, but Agna grasped her arm roughly.
