Liberating the Prison Camp

The sun had finally passed beneath the horizon, and the dark night had set on the world. Distant torches marked the walls of the camp, and a single tower with a searching arcane light kept watch over the nearby plains. While the Koviks knew that no slave would dare escape, it acted as a deterrent to even the thought of freedom.

Meanwhile, still a short way out, Avii charged at full speed with the carriage behind him. The soldiers had unloaded their supplies and hidden them well, leaving only the necessities for their current mission. The plan was simple: as the carriage drew near, hell would rain down from the sky and, in the chaos, the infiltration group would act. But the fight ahead required Avii and the carriage to be unseen until the last moment. Something that could change at any given second.

Watching ahead as the searchlight scanned his way, he moved as fast as his suit could take him. Avii listened as the armour clinked and clanked, groaning as he pushed it to its limit. The cart, now much lighter without the weight of cargo, bucked behind him as it hit rocks and stumps buried beneath the surrounding muck. Meanwhile, situated firmly in the back of the vehicle, a package that needed to find its way to the front gate.

The light was almost upon him. Sixty feet. Thirty. Ten. The minute the arcane glare shone upon his racing form, he waited for the alarm to sound and arrows to rain down on him. But in an instant, the light was gone and replacing it atop the tower was a fiery explosion.

With a glance over his shoulder, Avii looked back to the hillside where Sebastian and Aindes had taken position. Flashes of light, quick and no brighter than that of a candle, revealed a barrage of incoming arcane artillery. The halberd was the weapon of choice for Gynours. Capable of being manipulated by runes, the blasts they shot could be used to drop fireballs from nearly a quarter mile away. This was far beyond traditional ballista emplacements and could only be rivalled by the trebuchet, of which this camp had none.

Seconds passed before eruptions lit up the space behind the wall. Taking advantage of Aindes’ innate magical abilities, Sebastian could cause more damage with a single halberd than a Kovika cloudrider. It was the perfect distraction as Avii cleared the remaining distance to the front gate.

Now near enough to see their forms clearly, Avii could make out the pair of guards as they rushed to open the wicket set into the gate and return inside. But he wouldn’t give them the chance. With a few remaining steps, Avii flexed his legs and leapt. The carriage continued forward under him as he took to the air, hurtling towards the unsuspecting Koviks, and crashing into their lightly armoured bodies a moment later.

As their frail figures were crushed beneath the wooden vehicle, their fates were sealed. The package at the rear of the carriage flew forth, connecting with the gate. In that instant, half a dozen arcanzcores exploded, lighting up the night with a red flash as fire engulfed the entrance and fragments of splintered wood fell like hail from above.

Landing to his feet, Avii tumbled forward, barely catching himself before falling prone. For a moment, he listened to the sounds of arcane eruptions as magical artillery continued to pierce the sky and rain hell on the camp. That was when a second, large detonation caught the man’s attention. As planned, Ostave’s party had breached the far wall and were beginning to push in. Within seconds of their breaching, the artillery ceased, and all that remained were the bellowing cries of the soldiers being deployed to guard the camp.

Avii’s job was done. His task of destroying the main gate had been a success, and now his mission was to wait for Sebastian and Aindes to arrive. He had been instructed not to enter, seeing as he was not allowed a weapon. Because of that, Ostave determined that he would have been more of a liability than an asset. And that would have been good and easy, had it not been for the voice in his head.

“Avii—” Harbinger spoke for the first time in days.

“No, Harbinger,” He replied, stepping back from the flames. “I have orders.”

“Maldainian survivor detected.”

Avii’s heart skipped a beat, and his careful retreat froze as quickly as his blood. There couldn't be another Maldainian. He knew well that the Kovika nation all but eradicated those who had been on their side of the border after the explosion. As for Estaria, they had on numerous occasions confirmed he was the last. But if there was another of his people. Truly another alive, could it mean there were more out there? Was he truly not alone?

“Harbinger. What did you say?”

“Avii, Maldainian survivor detected. Three hundred feet in front of you. Three hundred fifteen feet. Three hundred—”

“How can you be sure, Harbinger?”

“Internal arcanz composition comparable to yours with a ninety-nine-point-nine percent similarity compared to that of Estarian and Kovik arcanz composition of ninety-nine-point-seven-five percent.”

“What does that mean, Harbinger?”

“Avii, Maldainian survivor detected. Three hundred seventy-five feet in front of you. Three hundred eighty—”

Staring forward at the flickering flames, Avii listened to the distant screams of combat. Ostave and his group were making quick work of the Kovik soldiers in the chaos, marching their way towards the center of the camp to free the Estarian soldiers for backup. No doubt drawing closer to the Maldainian mule rushing the other direction.

With a glance over his shoulder, Avii stared through the darkness towards the hill from which Sebastian and Aindes would be arriving. There was no sight of them, but even running at full speed, it would take them nearly five minutes to reach him. By that time, whatever was destined to happen would be done, and Avii would live whatever time he had left, wondering what if. What if there had been another Maldainian. What if it had been someone he knew? What if, by some miracle, his Kani had lived?

Avii shook the hope from his head as he assumed a charging posture. His mind was made up. He was going in. So, with armoured arms before his face, he raced forward and with a crash of metal against wood, he burst through the flaming wreckage that was the prison gate.

Fiery splinters scattered through the embers and smoke, creating a shrapnel that caused those on the other side of the barrier to recoil. Thirteen in total had been doing what they could to clear the damage and retreat. Ten unarmoured Kovik whipmasters and three soldiers wearing the Kovika equivalent of his third-generation suit.

A moment of shock befell the courtyard as Avii and they exchanged glances. They hesitated, confused by the sudden emergence from beyond the wreckage. But then Avii saw it in their eyes. The flicker of the flame of hatred that he had seen for so many years. The daze had worn off, and any moment, their orange-lit faces would tighten. When that happened, combat would ensue, and it would be all of them against him.

So, he acted. Charging to the nearest unarmoured man, he watched as a hand drew down for a dagger. But he wouldn’t reach it, as Avii’s flattened hand chopped at the guard’s throat, crushing his windpipe and snapping his neck in an instant.

As his body fell, Avii snagged the corpse in his grasp and held it before him. Beads similar to those from Sebastian’s kukri struck the limp shield, spraying sanguine mist before him as he took hold of the dagger the man had been reaching for. Slipping it free, he threw it with deadly accuracy, splitting the skull of one of the armoured soldiers.

In the time it took the soldier’s body to fall, Avii had tossed the bolt-riddled human-shield towards the remaining armoured pair and began his charge to the next guard. His chosen target had already taken hold of the whip at his side and was fiddling with an arcanzcore in a frantic attempt to attach it to the heel sigil. As Avii approached, the guard took a panicked step back to create enough space to crack the whip, but he was too slow. Avii took him by the throat, hoisting him high and watching as he struggled to grab at the mule's armoured grasp.

That was when Avii noticed it from the corner of his eye. The arcanzcore the guard had been holding onto tumbling free of his grasp. The red glow of the core preparing to go critical. The man hadn’t been trying to attach it. He had been rigging it for a suicide run.

With only a moment to react, Avii caught the core with his offhand and tossed it towards the densest grouping of guards. He pulled his living shield before his face as he braced himself. The core went off a moment later, showering him with dirt and blood as limbs rained from the sky and hit solid earth with sickening thuds. Meanwhile, the body in his grasp, still squirming in his final moments of life, coughed a thick red ichor up over his killer in a final protest before the last breath left his lips.

Tossing yet another corpse to the ground, Avii suddenly felt something crack against him. With the force of a well-swung hammer, one of the guards had struck him with the cracker of his whip. A second strike came, and then a third as Avii felt his armour denting inward from the powerful, arcanzcore-infused blows. He threw his hands up before his head, guarding his unprotected face, knowing that a single strike would be more than enough to end his life.

Slowly, he backed away, the whips cracking at him, giving time for the armoured soldiers to regain their footing. Soon bolts of magical light struck his core, tearing away at the plates and making an opening big enough to cut through flesh. And then his knee gave out, bringing him to the ground.

“No!” Avii grunted as he fell back, knowing he had taken a critical strike to one of the lower transistor runes. “Not this way!”

It wouldn’t be long before the soldiers were atop him to finish the job, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. Not without meeting the other Maldainian. For the first time in a long time, he had something to fight for. Someone to live for. So, with a grunt, he fought, using his upper body to pull himself away from the approaching figures.

“What have we here?” A gruff voice spoke as it approached him. “His armour says MULE.”

“Another?” A second man wheezed, flanking Avii. “Well, ain’t it our lucky day? Boss will be happy ‘bout that.”

“Or maybe, we just kill’em. One beast is enough.”

The Kovik came into view, the weapon in his hand pointed towards Avii’s head and pooling a sinister purple light. Avii watched a grin appear across the man’s face as he looked down at him with a twisted pleasure of what he was about to do.

“Yeh’, one’s more than enough.” He smirked. “Tell ol’ Gnashy when you see’um in hell, Chutty sends his regards.”

And with that, the purple bolt discharged.