Page 19 of The Oracle of Dusk

SomethingswelledinsideAuroraand snapped outward. The monstrosity looming with lethal intent behind Phaedra paused for a split second. It was enough. Phaedra clocked the beast and launched herself into the air with a powerful gust of air. Several of the monstrosities took flight after her. At Aurora’s back, Silvanus pulled out a bow glowing with light, dispatching the flying monstrosities with arrows created by divine magic.

As she descended, Phaedra used another blast to keep herself aloft. Aurora’s heart hammered in her chest as Phaedra dodged the claws and gaping maws of the monstrosities, continually escaping back into the air.

“Hold on!” Silvanus called as the loper surged forward.

Mount and rider raised a battle cry as they plunged into the madness. Leaning forward in the saddle, Silvanus covered Aurora’s body with his, his bow transforming into a spear he angled forward. Its radiance cleaved a path in front of them, dissolving the bubbling mass of monstrosities before they formed and leaving the ground fully purified in their wake.

The paladins’ lopers battled through monstrosities to follow behind, trampling the beasts beneath hooves blessed by the goddess Herself. In the centre of the camp, the remaining paladins and imperial guard fought back-to-back.

Phaedra descended in front of them and Aurora’s heart leapt into her throat. Before Aurora could scream at Silvanus to halt the loper, Phaedra launched back into the air, twirling gracefully over them and landing in the saddle of one of the following steeds.

They circled the camp, cutting through monstrosities as though they were made of water. When the bulk were defeated, Silvanus handed her the reins.

“Take over!”

“What?!” Aurora squeaked as he leapt off the loper with the talent of a trained acrobat.

Aurora gripped the reins and kept her head close to the loper’s neck, lest a stray claw-tipped paw take her head from her shoulders. Though given her steed’s fierceness, she needn’t have worried. The war-trained loper barrelled through the straggling beasts with ferocious ease, even without the holy weapon to help clear the way.

Phaedra urged her loper to race beside Aurora’s, covering the side exposed to the inner ring of monstrosities.

On the edge of the camp, Silvanus stood as a lone warrior, his body glowing with divine power. She watched in awe as he planted his feet, twisted his hips and posed the holy sword as if to cleave the whole of the camp in two. Monstrosities bubbled up near his feet as he stood his ground, kept at bay as his inner radiance seared even her eyes. The lopers made another half-circle before he unleashed the power of the holy sword. An arc of light tore through the remains of the camp, sweeping away the monstrosities as though they’d been sculptures made of sand.

The lopers circled the camp once more, but the monstrosities were gone. The traces of their presence lingered in the cries of the wounded, in the blood soaking the hard-packed sand, in the torn and trampled tents. Only a single imperial guard remained alive, yet only one paladin had been wounded. A grim reminder that only divine magic could defeat the beasts.

Silvanus sheathed his blade, now resembling a regular sword once more, and rushed into the camp, using his divine magic to heal the wounded and consecrate the bodies of the fallen. The battle was over, but this was only the beginning of the calamity to come. A mere taste of horror.

Until now, she’d had a hard time understanding why so much history of the past had been lost, despite the continual presence of the temple of Knowledge. Now she knew why. Every cycle of calamity took its toll in blood, leaving fewer each time who could record that toll in ink.

Aurora had seen the remnants of villages sacked by monstrosities, the broken, burnt-out buildings, the dried blood flaking in the sun, streams of the dead-eyed wounded as they trudged towards the next town or village, the scraps of their former lives slung over their shoulders. She’d seen that, and yet she’d still believed that was the worst the calamity could offer, that the beasts were so easily defeated by those with divine magic and a bit of warrior’s training.

She’d been so ignorant.

How much worse would this have been had it happened in the middle of an army on the march? One made up of mostly imperial soldiers rather than Justice’s paladins? How much worse would it be if they attacked the capital, with its labyrinth of narrow streets and crowded buildings? Even trained warriors stood little chance against the beasts. What hope did the average merchant and labourer have? What hope did the elderly, the infirm, the youngest amongst them?

“We can’t go back to Boreas.”

“What?” Phaedra asked, her face drained of blood.

“We can’t bring this with us back to the capital.”

“We’ll be safe behind the castle walls. Safer than anywhere else.” Phaedra’s brow knitted with concern.

Aurora shook her head. Drakon followedher. Everywhere she stopped would have a target painted on it. Everyone she travelled with would be similarly beset.

“No, I have to get to Gilvus. To the wellspring there.”

Because she’d failed. Again.

How many more deaths would be on her head? How much more blood would stain her hands because of her ineptitude? She wished she could go back in time and shake her younger self. If only she’d been able to put her wounded pride aside and had learned more about the wellsprings, about wild magic, maybe she would have awakened her magic before the cycle of calamity had begun. Those guards would be alive now if not for her ignorance.

“What happened at the wellspring?”

“Nothing. I heard it call, but nothing happened.”

Just like before. Tears stung her eyes.

“This isn’t your fault, Aurora.”

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