Champions of Serenity: Destiny Fulfilled
Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter 35

The soft hiss of the wet stone against blades filled the small clearing the Circle had camped the night before. Airidon was putting the razor fine edge on his battle ax, his swords already keenly edged and in their scabbards. Tyra tested the edge of her sword and then ran her wet stone down the edge a few more times. Jehro was carefully filling his hollow daggers he called fangs with poison and storing them in their special sheathes. Shrina was lovingly caressing many daggers arrayed before her; more had already vanished on her person. Fini had put metal tips on his staff and banded it every few inches for added strength. Korol was sipping on some water from the Shadow-dream Mountains, staring off at something only he could see. Meckin spent his few minutes going over and over in his head all the different passages within Hades to decide which way he was taking after he entered.

Airidon checked the leather bindings on his war hammer and then added it to the arsenal he was taking to battle. He looked over everyone, taking note that Tris had also strapped on her sword and was testing a new toy she had made during the summer. It was a silver circlet with a cluster of gems in the colors of her star in the center of her forehead. When she grasped the gem cluster with her right hand, it fell from her head and became a supple double edged whip, extending an impressive six feet long. She was practicing flicking flies from the air with careless seeming twists of her wrists. Only Airidon knew it was for show, she wouldn’t actually be using her weapons this day. He cleared his throat and had everyone’s attention.

“I guess it’s time to go. Any last words?” He said, picking up his last dagger and sliding it into his boot.

No said anything for a moment, the mood was heavy and solemn; no one had the courage to lighten the mood with a witty retort. Tris looked around at the faces of her family and nodded. “We are ready. The time is at hand to end this once and for all. Let no one despair. We can, we will, we must conquer! Serenity be with us, the freedom of Sandeenai and all her people is our only goal this day.”

The fierce light of agreement filled the eyes of all eight of the champions of Serenity, the Circle of the Star. Tris then used her magic, which all knew Handsome was waiting for, to spell all eight of them to their separate destinations.

Tris stood alone in the clearing when her spell was finished, but her mind was with each of her family as they faced what could be their final battle. As she swayed on her feet, lost in what each of them faced, the steady hands of Chaos helped her sit on a chair he created for her. He then turned the chair into a couch and just held her silently as she watched the events unfold. Serenity joined them on the other side of Tris, wrapping her arms around her champion as well. Tris knew when the two gods joined her, but didn’t acknowledge either one. She wasn’t aware when all the other gods joined the three of them or the reactions of them as they watched the intensity of Tris’s reaction to the horrors the others of her Circle faced at Handsome’s hands.

As stones of the roof grew solid under her feet, Tyra crouched defensively. She freed the smaller of her two swords, creeping forward, and alert for any attack. It didn’t take long. The stones beneath her gave way and she fell down an oil slicked ramp to a bone littered chamber. The wooden door had long since rotted in its leather hinges. The clamor of many booted feet stomping in the decayed dungeon rang in her ears, masking another, more terrifying sound. She placed her ear carefully to the door to listen for the guards.

When the first moldy finger bone tapped her on the shoulder, she let a single scream echo throughout the maze of cells and corridors. Now she had the living and dead to fight. But she knew where she was from Meckin’s maps; just beyond this tangle of passageways was the central chamber and Handsome. She determined to get there first as she plunged her sword through the first man to reach her.

Meckin slipped into the room beyond the balcony silently. It was another library, one for the other wizards to use since Dreybrenic wouldn’t allow them access to his personal collection of books and scrolls. He carefully lifted the latch to the library to make sure his entrance wasn’t noted. He had asked for this room since it contained a secret passage leading directly to the central chamber. He hadn’t told the others about it, feeling it was his right to be the one to kill Handsome. This was his ancestral home and his people had almost been exterminated. It was only just.

He also knew this room was proofed against magic spells as many of his people had been powerful magicians at one time. Meckin carefully made his way through the multiple stacks of books and scrolls to the hallway of paintings. Behind the portrait of his grandfather, twenty generations back, was the passageway.

Large spiders filled the dark, damp, tunnel with heavy strands of webbing. Instead of fighting through the silken prison, he took a shape to pass easily among the webs, a giant spider. Then his nightmares became reality as he stood face to face with an enemy much older and deadlier than Handsome. The Gonzoc, a creature from the imaginations of Chaos sent to prey on the delicacy of Wer flesh. This creature would hunt Wer in any form and was merciless in its pursuits. The only way to stop it was to kill it. The only way to kill it was to poison it. The only way to poison it was to feed it. The only food it would consume was Wer. Meckin’s heart raced as he tried to fight his terror. Of all the things he had expected from this fight, a gonzoc wasn’t one of them. And his goal was just beyond this foe and a single door.

“At least it isn’t a sewer,” he grumbled, changing into a mouse and crawling through the grating. He followed the crumbling tunnels to where they would meet with storage vaults, and then just beyond the vaults were the dungeons and Handsome. Thoughts of everything the upstart had done to his friends and family, both within and without the Circle, enraged him. Jehrones plotted over different ways to end Handsome’s life.

He crept into the storage area and looked around. Everything was silent, even the dust motes floated in lazy swirls. Standing to his full height, Jehro took his own form. His fangs shone in the garish glow from the near dead torches, also filled with a poison of their own. He ran a scarlet tongue over his five rows of teeth, feeling their sharpness. Anyone who met with him this day would die. It was hard thinking it was still day, considering the darkness which enshrouded this fortress. It would have been easier to think of it as midnight.

Then a scream pierced the gloom and the sound of many booted feet racing forward, came to the Chameling. He crouched in the shadows, waiting to know more of this trick. Then sounds of battle reached his ears and he realized it was Tyra who had screamed. He raced to help his Circle sister.

The darkness of the landscape was the first thing Airidon noticed as he pushed open the rusted gates. He missed having Tris at his side for this battle, but he understood the reasons of the choice she made, so was ready for anything. He was surprised to replace the gates unmanned but kept his swords in hand, ready for possible attack. The ground between the gate and main doors had been flooded so was spongy. Alert for traps, Airidon edged forward, brushing the marsh like grasses with his foot before setting it down.

Reaching the opened front doors, he looked around making sure he wasn’t being flanked. When all was still clear, he took a hesitant step into the fortress. Then he saw the reason for the abandoned posts. All the guards who would have been at the front gate, in the courtyard, and at the door were dead. They lay in their own blood and Airidon silently thanked the unknown assassin.

Airidon cautiously put his foot on the path he knew led to the central chamber. He wanted the head of Handsome to present to Tris. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel needed, he did. But he wanted to show his mate he could also face Handsome and survive.

Even in his dreaming, he didn’t lose any alertness. When he heard the faint hiss behind him, Airidon whirled. His eyes widened as he watched the last of the dead pull themselves to their feet. With death wounds easy to see, they stared at their prey with a gruesome light shining in their eyes.

Turning again, Airidon ran from the main hall, trying to replace a more defensible position. He heard the ghoulish army behind him, coming ever forward. Then the doors in front of him burst open and a second army of dead came at him. Now he was trapped between two forces and only steps away from the doors leading into the central chamber.

The window was a tight squeeze but the drop wasn’t far. Not that it mattered to the Druid. He could have shifted into a mist, but he wasn’t certain what lay in the damp walls or beyond them. He prayed silently that his mate would be safe on the heights. Then he turned his attention to the task at hand.

He found himself in a locked room, though the door was rotten wood and iron. From the bits of chain and rusted metal on the walls, it had either been an armory or torture chamber. What its purpose had been remained a secret for nothing but dust littered the floor, not even blood stains or mice skeletons.

Using his staff, Fini broke through the door and stepped into the corridor beyond. Listening carefully, he didn’t hear anything. He was the farthest from Handsome by choice. It was true he hated Handsome for what he did to his family but felt his personal vendetta wasn’t as important as the others. He hoped Meckin or Tris would make it first; they had the most reasons for vengeance.

Winding through the twisting passageways, he kept a close watch both behind and in front of him. But he was still surprised when, out of nowhere, the thing fell. It landed squarely in front of him and an answering thud told him one was behind him, without having to look. Fini put his back against the slim covered wall to defend himself more fully and was surprised to replace himself falling into a web filled tunnel. With a mental check, he knew it was one Meckin had either forgotten to mention or didn’t know about. Then he saw the looming figure and Meckin just a few steps behind it. He gave a warning shout and charged.

“This is interesting. I wonder what it’s used for.” She picked up and held the cubical object, it felt slimy and slightly alive. Then eyes appeared in each of the four corners. Shrina almost dropped it, and then changed her mind. Each of the eyes was a different color and looked in different directions. What looked like a mouth appeared on one side and the Siblen checked for a repeat of that as well, but found none. “What are you?” she asked, seeming to forget her quest.

“I’s Imp, sent by Chaos to serve Dreybrenic. Dreybrenic tired and threws me away. Frees me and I’s your slave.” The voice was squeaky, yet fearful, like he didn’t want to hope in a rescue.

Shrina studied the grayish block, wondering if it was a trap, so decided to test it. “Is this your natural shape? What do you know about Demons? And how would I free you?” She waited to see what the answers would be.

“This ain’t my natural shape, I’ve four eyes, but I’m rounder and thinner. I knows Demons is close to Chaos’s heart, that’s what I knows. Except there’s supposes one mixed with Elf who gets to destroys Dreybrenic. You’s her? If so, I’s most willing yours servant. Demons is fine masters, giving lots of blood and pain to slaves.” The voice rose with excitement as the Imp wiggled in Shrina’s grasp, almost as if he were trying to please the woman.

“I’m not a Demon, I’m Siblen. You still haven’t told me how I could free you.” The Imp stopped moving when he heard that Shrina wasn’t Tris. He had a forlorn look and sound again, his almost pinkish glow fading back to dead gray.

“I’s never served Siblen before. Chaos likes leaving ’ems alone. He says all Sibish and Siblens is trouble. If you wants ’em to stir things up, they don’t. You wants ’em reasonable? They ain’t. If you wants ’em to leaves your plans be, they won’t. He says they’d talk death to death if they could and he’s seen ’em try. I don’t know it’d be right you freeing me. You’d ends up in more trouble ’en it’d be worth. But if you wants to try, all you do’s rubs my head and wish me free.” He sounded so depressed that Shrina felt sorry for him.

She slowly moved her hand across the top of the block. “Close your eyes, I don’t like the way they’re following my hand.” The Imp obeyed and Shrina continued. Closing her own eyes, she wished the little Imp free. Then the cube came to life in her hands and she dropped it in surprise. Her eyes flew open as she watched the Imp pull itself up and up. His head bumped against the ceiling, and then he shrank on himself until he stood eye level to Shrina.

His eyes were still on four different sides and different colors, but it wasn’t so hard to look at anymore. “Thank you, little friend.” He grinned, showing a row of hunger sharpened teeth. “I helps you, ifs you promises one thing. When I’s pleased you, you frees me so I’s goes to Chaos. Okey dokey?” He rubbed his thin, gnarled hands together and licked his lips with a bright orange tongue. His skin was still grayish but now had a yellowy pink cast to it. His eyes darted to all the corners as he waited for Shrina to agree to the terms.

The Siblen thought about it and nodded. “I want to get to Handsome’s chamber first. The first one there gets to kill him. I want to see his blood flow and know it’s my hand spilling it. If you help me do that, I’ll release you to return to Chaos.” The Imp let an unholy cackle lose and bowed to the Siblen. “Yous wish, my commands.” The words filled the woman’s mind and again the Imp grew. When he dwarfed the room, he closed his hand over Shrina and vanished.

Korolwyn listened. He heard Tyra scream and Jehro run to her assistance. He heard Meckin’s barely audible cry of help and Fini’s answering bellow. He heard the ranks of death soldiers close on Airidon. And he heard Handsome pacing in the central chamber. The one thing he didn’t hear was anything from Tris or Shrina, so figured they were together. But he wasn’t worried about those two, he was debating between going to Airidon’s aid or being the first to the chamber. With the first clash of steel on steel, his decision was made.

Thinning his flesh, Korol reached for the shadows closest to Airidon. He grinned at the surprised second-in-command, and then faced the warriors coming from behind the besieged Dwarf. He laughed as the first of his opponents picked themselves up and put themselves back together again. Then he got angry when they wouldn’t stay dead. His breath became ragged as he struggled to stay one leap ahead of the onslaught. He heard Airidon’s breath become similarly strained. “How about if we push our way through and enter the chamber? We’ll let Handsome deal with his zombie soldiers for a while.”

“Good idea, Korol. Keep your back to me and we’ll make a rush for it.” Airidon’s voice sounded tired. Korol risked a quick look over his shoulder at his companion and saw a similar response in Airidon’s eyes. Neither had been sure for a second whether the other was real or not, but the exchange gave them the strength they needed to win through to the chamber. Once through the doors, they skidded to a stop and a silence surrounded them and the scene before them.

“She is so intent. I didn’t realize just how much honor she had until now.” Tziel said softly. “I knew she had passion and although her ambitions are for the good of everyone, she isn’t willing to sacrifice more than herself to achieve them. Are they all like that?”

“Yes, Tziel, they are.” Haras answered. She watched each of the heroes as they fought their battles alone and then together. At one time they had each been lost and without a home, now they had found each other and acceptance and a home with that replaceing.

“Be quiet, or you’ll miss the best parts.” Chah hissed to his sister goddesses. He would be busy this night with all the death caused by this battle. Chah glanced at Chaos, knowing he would also be busy tonight.

Tris watched as each of her family joined the battle. She was curious about the imp and cast a knowing glance at Chaos, but didn’t say anything. Before Korol joined Airidon in the main hall, Tris almost broke her promise to not fight to save his life. She wasn’t aware how rigid she was sitting, how focused she was.

With a start, Tris realized a goblet had been pressed into her hand and she took a sip, recognizing Chaos’s hand in the pressing. Her heart stopped again when she watched Fini and Meckin facing down the gonzoc. She sent a silent pulse through a stitch in their pouches, reminding them of the magic they carried.

“That was a dirty trick, Trisinda Jaqukwen.” Chaos said as he watched the men reaching for their pouches. “I like it. Do you have any other surprises up your sleeve?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t help, I just couldn’t shed any blood personally, Chaos.” Tris said tightly, reminding him. Then she set the goblet down as the small battles were joined by others, upping the stakes.

“Jehro, I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life. Half of these men are living and half are dead, I can’t kill them both.” Tyra called to the Chameling as he rushed in, dagger drawn.

“I’ll take the living, you deal with the dead.” With that simple but effective plan, Tyra and Jehro beat back the opposing forces. They fought their way to the door leading to the chamber, their enemies falling before them. Then the door was achieved and a silence descended on them. All of their opponents died as the door opened. They turned as one and entered the chamber, stopping as they saw what was before them.

Meckin reached into one of his pouches and took out a small blow dart tube and poisoned dart. He then saw what Fini was planning and knew it would be enough with the combined attacks to stop the gonzoc long enough to finish the battle with Dreybrenic. The gonzoc was intent on Meckin, though not unaware of the giant behind him. The Wer loaded the tube and fired into the creature’s eye, then ducked. Fini threw the boulder as Meckin darted to the left. As the stone smashed into the gonzoc’s head, there was a sickening crunch.

Fini rushed over and helped Meckin to his feet. “You enter first; I give you the kill, if it’s mine to give.” The Wer smiled at the Druid’s words and they ran past the fallen creature to the door leading to the chamber. They both rocked back on their heels as the silence of the scene closed over them.

“It looks like the final act is about to begin. Trisinda Jaqukwen, join your friends and watch the ending of Dreybrenic. I’m sorry we couldn’t have spent this time under more pleasant circumstances. The next time we meet, it’ll be better if I can arrange it.” Chaos raised her hand to his lips and smiled. Tris stared for a second into his pale green gold eyes and then nodded.

Tris then turned to Serenity, seeking her blessing. “My daughter, you do not need to be distressed by your friendship with Chaos. He and I are siblings; but we see things differently and his way cannot be mine, or by your pledge, yours. Now go to your Circle and stand with them. Take with you my blessing for all.” A light flared a moment in all eight stars. Tris looked into the soft dove gray eyes of Serenity and felt an overwhelming love for her patron goddess.

With a wave of his hand, Chaos sent Tris to the door that opened on the chamber where Dreybrenic was waiting for all eight to gather together. She opened the door, her sword drawn and covered in gore, a gift from Chaos to continue the lie of Tris having fought the same as the others for their entrance into this central chamber.

When the door opened, the silence was shattered on the scene that was now set. A circle formed around the three players in the middle of the room.

“Shrelannasha, release the Imp to return to its master.” Tris’s voice drifted softly into the arena. Dreybrenic and the Imp started at her voice, Shrina just nodded. The Imp made his way to Tris first, bowing at her feet. With a swift kick, she sent him to Chaos, with a silent smirk to the god.

The seven of the Circle on the outside formed a tight circle around Shrina and Dreybrenic. Then a line from Serenity’s acceptance of Shrina came to Tris’s mind and she passed it to the others. “Shrelannasha, you shall be the Sting of the Circle.” Now it was clear to everyone why she made it to the center first.

A madman’s laugh filled the chamber. “Trisinda Jaqukwen, at last we meet. I know I’d the pleasure of using you once before, but you weren’t in your true shape. I must say, this form is much more pleasing than the last. Dina wasn’t it? I hope you had as much fun as I did those few weeks we spent together.” He paused and looked at the entire Circle for a moment, then turned his attention back to Tris. “Just remember it took eight of you to defeat me, it took eight! But why aren’t I facing you? Are you afraid to face me? Have I frightened you so badly you let some inferior female fight your battles for you?” Dreybrenic’s mockery rang in the hall.

Tris closed her eyes and slowly shook her head, she was controlling the bloodlust by sheer willpower alone and her friends knew it by that simple action. “No, Dreybrenic, you don’t frighten me, you never did. You just repulsed and nauseated me. And it’s only one that’ll take care of you; the only person you have to fight is Shrelannasha. If you kill her, then we leave and you rule in peace. But I should warn you, Dreybrenic, my sister is anything but inferior.” Tris kept her place with the Circle, letting Shrina know she supported her completely. “Shrelannasha, the battle is yours. Serenity sends her blessing.” A light flared in all eight stars again as Tris said the words.

“Chaos! Chaos, aid me! I am your chosen, the one you picked to rule this world for you! Do not desert me in my time of need!” Dreybrenic fell to his knees as he screamed to the deaf stones. From across the room, Airidon met Tris’s eyes. His mouth tightened as he read the answer in her face and the slightly uplifted sword.

“I don’t think he’s going to answer, Dreybrenic. He doesn’t like you anymore. From what I’ve learned about gods and goddesses, you must treat them with respect or they won’t support you. You don’t seem to treat your patron with any kind of respect. Besides, Sandeenai was never Chaos’s to give. Serenity is the patron of our world, but I suppose you never listened closely enough to understand that little fact. I guess you’ll just have to deal with me, an inferior female.” Shrina’s voice was mocking and angry as she circled the fallen man. He was a coward at heart, and she hated killing cowards. They squirmed, making it hard to get a clean stroke, but in the end they died, as all the others before them.

A snarl from the one time emperor was all the warning the Siblen had. She jumped aside and pulled a dagger from a fold in her sleeve. With a flick of her wrist, it sank into a thigh muscle of Dreybrenic. As he tried pulling it free, another flew, burying itself the tendon of his left shoulder.

Keeping his eyes on the woman before him, Dreybrenic freed both blades and dropped them to the floor. His face tightened with pain and his eyes blazed with insane fury. With an animalistic howl, he charged his enemy. Not even the burning of a blade in his stomach slowed him down. He pounced again and again, trying to get his hands on the tiny woman in front of him. He forgot his wish to kill Tris in his rage at his elusive prey.

Shrina kept just an arm length away, driving him from one mindless attack to another. Each time he charged, another dagger flew and another bloody stream flowed from his body. Then he stopped and swung his head like a drunken bull, his eyes rolling in his head as marbles on the floor. With a murmured chant, he collapsed.

Walking over to his prone body, his killer stood over him. He lifted his eyes to the face of Shrina and gave one last snarl. The Sting chose a sword, one only half as long and slender as one of Airidon’s. “You’ve been more trouble than you’re worth; every one of my daggers missed their targets because you squirmed. If you had any courage in your body, you would’ve been spared the pain. But you, Dreybrenic, are a coward. And you’ve died as a coward, slowly and with much suffering. May your soul never replace rest.” With a single plunge through the heart, Dreybrenic died.

A green, black, and red swirl fled the corpse, disappearing in the darkness of the day. Shrina looked at Tris as she stepped forward. “No!” Tris yelled as she lost track of the essence of Dreybrenic.

“Tris?” Jehrones asked, taking a step toward her. The whole Circle closed around the empty shell of Handsome and either spit on him or kicked him.

“He isn’t gone yet, he escaped. But where, and into what form? He can’t have another human form, so it has to be an object, and not within the walls of Hades.” Tris answered Jehro’s question then looked at the stricken faces of the Circle. Shrina sat back on her heels and rested her head on the hilt of her sword.

A voice then filled the chamber, one the Circle recognized even though it was distorted. “You’re right, Trisinda Jaqukwen, the essence of Dreybrenic still lives. The battle is over but the war rages on. I’ve enjoyed our little games this far. We shall see what the future brings, but for now Sandeenai is yours and your goddess’s.” Then the voice and feeling of Chaos left Hades and the setting sun shone through a stained-glass, overhead window for the first time since the Wers were driven from their home.

No one spoke as they left the fortress, each lost in their own thoughts about the battle and how it had ended. They had all expected something final, not a ‘to be continued later’ sort of finish. As they left the fortress known now as Hades, Tris paused and with a click the others could almost hear, two things slide into place. “He has a child and has it hidden somewhere on Nasinih,” She whispered. Then the ground open up behind the champions of Serenity and as one, they turned and watched as Hades crumbled to dust and fell into the waiting maw of the earth.

“Tris, let’s go home.” Meckin said softly as all the horror of the past few hours faded with the setting sun.

“Home…” With a sigh of longing for a peace a long time coming, Tris agreed and spelled them all home to their forest to rest and heal from this day’s work.

The End of book two of the Champions of Serenity