Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [75]
“Yes?”
“I believe you should let us help in that part of the mission.”
Rafiq smirked.
“You should only do what’s appropriate, of course,” the aven continued. “But you should know that this squad is ready to die for whatever cause requires your presence here. We are some of the best eyes in Asha’s Army, and there are several Sigiled among our ranks, including me. We can help, if you let us.”
“Thank you for your offer,” said Rafiq. “I feel genuinely secure because of your devotion to Bant and to my safety.”
“Sir.”
“But I cannot divulge any reasons for my presence here. Please continue on the orders you’ve been given.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Dismissed.”
Rafiq felt a heavy weight on his heart—a literal one. Gleaming over his breast was a broad sigil, the face of the archangel Asha crossed with two swords, the sigil of patronage signifying his rank as Knight-General. His assigned mission in Esper was to strike a blow against the enemy by capturing or razing Palandius, a large city of Esper—a singularly daring and perilous maneuver. His personal quest was stranger, more occult, and far more dangerous.
BANT
Still in his bedchamber, Mubin looked up from the courier’s letter, furious.
“He left? How could he leave?”
“Knight-General Rafiq said he’d expressed his reasons in that letter, sir,” said the soldier. “Several small forces of Asha’s Army have begun actually invading parts of Esper. It’s seen as the proper strategy, not only to defend Bant, but to cleanse the entire new world of the enemy’s forces.”
Mubin wadded the letter up. “Damn fool. Damn, damn, damn, damn fool.”
“Sir?”
“ ‘ My cherished friend,’ he says. He goes on about ‘magics in Esper’ and ‘exotic metals that perfect the body.’ He’ll be a corpse in a foreign land without me—and he’s only going because of me. Me and my useless legs.”
“He had orders to go,” said the soldier.
“We had orders to go,” said Mubin. “This mission, this thought of invasion, should have been off the minute I betrayed us all. This was not supposed to be a mission for one man.”
“It won’t be,” said the soldier. “He took a contingent of elite soldiers and knights with him. He’s the Knight-General, sir. He’s leading the invasion of Esper; it’s a glorious time for us.”
“Dismissed,” Mubin said, because there was nothing in reach to hurl at the soldier.
“Yes, sir,” said the soldier. The door closed behind him.
The world spun around Mubin. In his mind’s eye, he saw the entire plane of Bant as one continent floating on a vast sea of blackness. He saw Rafiq riding ahead of a legion of valiant soldiers to the edge of the world, marching in time, taking step by excruciating step with their heads held high, their eyes not watching for the cliff’s edge, but scanning for angels in the heavens above them.
ESPER
The demon-dragon Malfegor strode across the white sandbanks of Esper, the deformed entourage of his undead army trudging and scuttling their way around him. The sky was odd in Esper, a bright hood of gray clouds for half the time, and a clear black basin littered with glittering lights for the other half. Thankfully, it was in the darker state, and Malfegor could detect faint lines of magic crisscrossing in a grid above him, as if painted directly on the sky. The wind blew in wild gusts, but the towering clouds moved only in rigid patterns, their volumes cut and shaped by hegemonic magics like razors in clay. The mages on Esper were obsessed with control and measurement, Bolas had said, never leaving anything to chance. To Malfegor, the whole plane seemed like a delicate toy obeying a lattice of arbitrary rules. Malfegor relished the opportunity to shatter as much of as it as he could as he made his way to the Bant frontier.
A ghostly gray silhouette, one of his undead informants, floated up by his ear. “The Cliffs of Ot are dead ahead,” whispered the ghost. “At this rate, we’ll reach the