Dark Lord's Commands 2, page 21
Chapter 20
Cleaning ourselves up, we summoned Augusta and the other queens, revealing the secret passage we had located.
I was rather surprised that we discovered it before the ghost had.
Gaspar was all for going right then and there, but I counseled care. It had grown late, and we had pushed ourselves hard that day, including the brief fight with Augusta. I suggested we rest a few hours, then wake up early and reach our prize. The last thing I wanted was for one of us to get injured because we pushed ourselves too hard once the goal was in sight.
Even after finding the Eye we still needed to escape the palace, find and deal with Jasquez, and then return to Lita and Marl, before I would consider our quest a success.
Augusta offered to scout out the passages in the meantime, to see where they lead to while we slept.
Returning to our camp, I stretched on my makeshift bed with Nichessa to my side, her body radiating more heat than the meager fire we had going. Gaspar, to my joy, took a spot on my other side, snuggling close.
She murmured something about common, shared comfort before falling asleep.
Vexile coiled around us, her torso coming to rest across Nichessa’s stomach before we all drifted off.
“Dark Lord!”
I felt a cold wind blow into my ear.
“Dark Lord!”
Snapping awake, I didn’t see Augusta, but I could feel her presence, like a chill in the air.
Carefully extracting myself from my wives’ embrace, I got up and pulled my cloak around my shoulders. I didn’t know the exact time, but I imagined it was still hours till dawn. Moving towards the brazier, I threw the last of the wood onto the coals, stoking it.
“Augusta?” I called, warming my hands over the rising flames. “Are you there?”
I felt a small tug on my magic, drawing me out into the hallway. The pull became more insistent as I walked, and I let it guide me along as I moved through the wreckage of the royal quarters.
Eventually, I found the ghostly knight, standing before a gap in the exterior wall. Unlike the night before, she seemed almost completely translucent, with only the faintest hints of darkness and starlight in her shifting form.
“Augusta,” I stepped forward, placing my hand on her shoulder.
My fingers almost passed through her, but as I made contact I felt a snap of divine power flow out of me. The knight gasped, her body becoming solid and real again, her head turning towards me in shock as she became aware of my presence.
“Dark Lord?” Her eyes regained their clarity and focus.
“What happened?” I asked her.
“I’m sorry, I think I lost myself for a bit there,” she admitted. “I went to scout the hidden passages, but as time went along, I began to forget my goal. I was just drifting along, back in my memories, like I was haunting this place again.”
As she spoke, I allowed more of my power to flow into her, reinforcing her form and her presence. Apparently my ability to anchor her fades when she moves too far away from me.
She shook her head, then glanced out the hole. Her expression grew hard. “I felt like I was just about to drift below, to the Promenade, when you found me.”
Looking out of the breach, I could see why. Below, hundreds of ghouls and slimes streamed in from the ruins of Nightbound, all of them heading towards the palace.
We went and quickly roused the others, bringing them back to the hole so they could view the scene below.
The fallen Luminark were lurching out of the rubble that lined the Courts of Dark Blessing or pushing up through burrows and openings in the ground. Unlike before, they seemed to be moving in an organized manner, with none of the cannibalistic infighting we had witnessed previously. Slowly yet surely they lined up in rows and ranks like they were still the disciplined army they had been before suffering Revina’s curse.
Nichessa growled, “What the fuck is going on?”
As we watched, a figure, dressed in soiled garb, pushed through their ranks, coming to stand in front of the monsters. He was too far away for us to hear the words he spoke, but we could all feel the violent, burning rage pouring off him, like caustic rays of light.
“It looks like Jasquez survived,” Gaspar noted, a frown crossing her lips. “I can feel Alruna’s power coming off him.”
“He’s not an ascendant,” Augusta said with deathly certainty, “the power coming off him doesn’t feel right. Alruna’s ascendants burn with what they consider purifying energy. This man is burning like a bonfire, fueled by his own lifeforce.”
The monsters lined up, clearly listening to the inquisitor as he directed them to organize in their legions of the damned.
“Regardless, he’s found some sort of power, which he’s using to rally the cursed Luminark soldiers and archangels.” Vexile looked deeply worried. “It appears he’s going to attack the palace.”
“He knows we’re here,” I said. “He might even somehow know what we’re after.”
“We must hurry then,” Gaspar turned to face Augusta. “Were you able to scout out a way to the upper floors?”
The ghost knight nodded, “Quickly, follow me, I think I can lead you to the Throne room.”
I had been afraid the secret passages would be narrow and difficult to navigate. But thankfully, they were built like everything else in the royal quarters and they were wide and tall enough to accommodate Vexile and Nichessa’s ascendant frames.
“If we ever build a passage like this in Gloomglow, I’m copying this design,” Nichessa said as she walked down the hidden hallway, her shoulders not even brushing the walls.
Unlike the secret passages in movies or books, these didn’t feature hidden peepholes, disguised door levers, or hidden pitfalls. Instead, each intersection was clearly labeled, and there was a plaque above each door, announcing whose rooms you would be entering.
Augusta led us through the winding halls and up several flights of stairs, often stopping to reference the signs to orient herself with the rooms and chambers we were passing.
“These quarters belonged to Dark Lord Laomeden and his harem,” she explained quietly.
“Did Dark Lord Vanessa have any spouses?” I asked her.
She stopped as if stunned by the question, before shaking her head. “No.”
I watched her for a moment before asking, “You were very close to her, weren’t you?”
“I was her constant companion and shadow, “ she answered quietly. “I would never dare say that we were friends, but I lived my life to protect hers, and I hope that she trusted me in kind.”
“She gave you the Eye of Night,” Vexile told the ghost. “I can’t imagine her entrusting that to anyone but the most dependable person in her life.”
Augusta shook her head. “I was just the last person left.”
Before we could argue the point further, the knight pushed open a door to our right, stepping back out into the palace proper.
Following her, we found ourselves in the wreckage of some small sitting room, the oversized furniture squeezed tightly against one another. Shoving them aside, we emerged out into a wide hall, the top of the lift shaft at the far end.
I looked through the elevator door and found a single, intact car hanging inside.
“This is as far as the elevator goes from downstairs,” Augusta told us, “The grand balcony and ballroom is right above us, and above them is the throne room.”
“Then we’re almost there,” I nodded, feeling excited.
“This way,” the ghost said, moving back down the hall.
She escorted us up a grand staircase along the exterior of the building. Most of it had been destroyed, but there was enough left for us to scale the broken, black marble steps upward.
I didn’t think I had a fear of heights, but the deadly drop yawning to our right convinced me to stick to the palace’s walls as close as possible. The wind plucked at our clothes, howling around us like the voices of the damned.
Far, far below, the Luminark ghouls marched across the Courts, like waves of maggots. I could feel Jasquez’s burning presence driving them, commanding them to take up a battle they had already won hundreds of years before.
It was a relief when we finally made our way up to the grand balcony, which spread out in a series of tiered terraces and verandas. Beyond it was a tapered spire, which rose towards the heart of the astral tear.
The darkness and madness swirled around the peak like it was the eye of some terrible storm.
The balcony had been utterly devastated by Luminark siege weapons, which had torn huge holes in the masonry. I could see where starstones had once studded the roofline, which would have created an illuminated crown of celestial light for those looking up from below.
But they were gone now, leaving the throne of the Dark Lords desolate and abandoned.
We began to pick our way across the area. Noticing Augusta wasn’t with us, I turned and saw she was still standing at the top of the stairs, her head craned up to look at the heart of the astral tear. She wore an expression of sheer dread.
Gaspar, who had been bringing up the rear of our group, called out to her. “Are you alright?”
“This is Dark Lord Vanessa’s work,” the ghost said quietly, her voice almost lost to the wind. “I can feel her power in there, but it’s twisted, full of rage and anger, regret and sorrow.”
As she lowered her head, I saw there were spectral tears, fizzling motes of divine power, trickling down the knight’s cheeks. “She was so, so sad when she died, like her heart was breaking for everything we had lost.”
The scholar delicately placed her hand on the ghost’s shoulder, and though she was trying to comfort the poor woman, I could tell she didn’t know what to say.
Neither did I.
It was Nichessa who finally spoke. “There’s nothing we can do for the regrets for those we’ve lost. All we can do is honor their pain and do our best to make the bastards who hurt them pay.”
Augusta nodded once, sharply, then moved to join us.
“Wise words,” she murmured as she respectfully bowed before the Second Queen.
Nichessa just grinned. “When you feel like you have nothing else, hold onto your hate. You’d be surprised how far spite can get you when you need it.”
The palace ballroom was at the base of the spire. It had once featured walls of glass, which must have provided a stunning, panoramic view of Nightbound. A cold wind howled through the openings as we stepped inside.
The dance floor was covered in brittle bits of glass; the silver and gold threaded through the marble stonework glimmered darkly beneath the wreckage.
Vexile’s eyes were wide, taking in the fallen magnificence. Joining her, I saw the ballroom truly had been built to impress; gold filigree covered the columns, which were built in such a way that the precious metal must have glittered and sparkled under the light of the huge chandeliers. A few remaining starstones sputtered and flickered in their settings.
Against the far end of the ballroom was a large set of double stairs, which led to a balcony that encircled the upper portion of the chamber. The shredded remains of bunting and streamers covered their balusters. Each had been carefully embroidered with ancient heraldry, tracing back the lineage of the Dark Lords.
My First Queen carefully inspected them, occasionally pointing out a heraldic sign she recognized from her studies.
“Though Duskhaven had stood for hundreds of years, the Dark Lords prided themselves on tracing their ancestry back through the ages, even from before the Godsfall,” Augusta explained.
Vexile looked excited, and Gaspar perked up.
“You know them all?” Vexile hissed.
“Certainly,” the knight said with melancholy pride. “As a member of the royal guard, I memorized the history of the Dark Lords, honoring the deeds of their ancestors. Anything less than total dedication to them would be unacceptable for a knight of the Vilewind line.”
Vexile nodded, “That reminds me. There was a city not far from Gloomglow named Vilewind. We found the remains of a statue there, dedicated to Augustus Vilewind.”
“My ancestor!” The ghost gave a beautiful, genuine smile. “He was my great, great, great grandfather, a true hero to Duskhaven! He gave his life to protect us from the Xanarum Swarm! I am honored to be named after him, and to carry on his duty to Duskhaven and the Dark Lords!”
She stopped, her eyes tearing up again, as the meaning of her last words struck her.
“And you serve us still,” I assured her.
Vexile and Gaspar quickly distracted the ghost by asking her to recite everything she could recall about the Dark Lords and the kingdom’s past. I left them to it, thankful for their thirst for knowledge and their kindness.
“You married a bunch of nerds,” Nichessa joked as we checked out the stairs.
“You married a nerd,” I told her with a kiss. “Or have you forgotten?”
The stairs appeared to be intact, though the carpeting had long ago rotted away. Looking upwards, I saw there were several holes in the ceiling, revealing the broken floors and shattered walls above us.
“Can you brace the spire from down here?” I asked her. “The last thing we want is for the whole thing to topple over on us.”
She frowned, concentrating. I heard the stones groan, and I saw the shadows shift as the masonry moved and changed under Nichessa’s will.
“That’s the best I can do,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cut stone is the worst. Give me honest raw earth any day of the week.”
I kissed her again as thanks before calling to the others. Gaspar snapped her notebook shut and hurried over to join us. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Based on the testimony I just recorded, we might need to re-write the books on the Godsfall,” the scholar said.
Vexile slithered up behind her, equally excited. “Robert, did you know your ancestors were amongst the high priests of the united church of the Primevals?”
I kissed her brow, “Vexile, how could I have known that?”
Gaspar tugged at the ghost’s wrists, the knight looked stunned by the interrogation that had just been inflicted upon her.
“We must record everything she knows!” the natural philosopher demanded.
“Duty first,” I reminded them. “Jasquez’s forces will likely reach the palace soon, and I’d like to be away from here as quick as possible.”
Vexile, for her part, at least looked sheepish at her sudden loss of focus. Her expression became sober as she nodded. Gaspar, on the other hand, still looked half-distracted by the information she had just learned.
Moving upstairs, I found there was another set of huge glass double doors. These were broken as well. Past them was an ornate staircase that rose sharply upward. Following them, my sense of deja vu struck again, like I was moving in the present and the past at the same time.
At the top of the stairs were two huge doors, both of them carved from jet black obsidian. They both depicted mirror images of a giant figure who looked down at the threshold with benevolence and love.
Vexile began to pray, overwhelmed by the images before her; Nichessa looked impressed by the craftsmanship, while Gaspar took out her notebook and began sketching again, copying the artwork to her pages.
Augusta looked ashamed, her eyes cast towards the floor.
I stared up at the doors. Though the style was very different from the statue in my visions, I immediately recognized the image of Revina, her face shrouded and hidden. Only her lips, set in a sly, knowing grin, were visible, though the artist had worked tiny starstones into the goddess’s eyes, so her gaze sparkled down at us.
The goddess wore a robe and sari, the material decorated with thousands of stars. The carving on the left held a sword, the blade razor-sharp, while the one on the right held a sheaf of wheat.
Though the carvings were not animated or breathing, I could still feel the goddess looking down on us, judging us.
A breeze, surprisingly warm and gentle, blew up from below. As it did, the doors slowly opened, making not a single sound as they swung on their ancient hinges.
Beyond was the shattered throne room of the Dark Lords.
The long hall had been torn to pieces; most of the walls were gone, and huge chunks of the floor were missing. Only a few intact banners hung on the shattered walls. The light of the astral tear dyed everything that remained in shades of blood and rage.
The throne stood stark and unadorned against the far wall. I could just make out the white gleam of bones resting at the bottom of the dais.
Vexile murmured the end of her prayers, eyes wide in awe at the scene before us. Gaspar quickly began jotting down details about the throne room, while Nichessa hung back, brow furrowed.
Turning, I saw Augusta had retreated several steps, her form trailing mist and sparks of divine energy. Her eyes were full of fear.
“Dark Lord,” she whimpered.
But she wasn’t addressing me. She was speaking to the body at the other end of the room.
Carefully I stepped across the threshold. Augusta and my queens followed in my wake. There was a broken path across the room, which I navigated as carefully as I could.
Reaching the throne, my double-vision hit again, stronger than ever before. Nichessa, Gaspar, and Vexile faded from view, becoming no more than shadows.
I saw two Augustas, one alive, one dead. Before them stood the sad shadow of the last Dark Lord.
She was painted in shades of black and white; her eyes shadowed, sad pools carved into the pale stillness of her face. Still, she radiated a quiet, undeniable power, the same as the divine blessing that ran up my spine and clutched at my heart.
“You’ve finally come,” she said, her voice no more than dust. “Thank you.”
I tried to formulate a response but failed.
Vanessa regarded me for a moment, before nodding. She gestured towards the ghostly knight. “Augusta, there are no words to express my gratitude, and my regret, for what you have done for me and this kingdom. You have carried out your duty when all others would have failed.”
