In Harmony We Trust, Ryan Matthew Harker [rooftoppers .txt] 📗

/> “All right buddy, turn around. Slowly!” said the mercenary closest to him.
Dan did not move, his hands raised and his mind raced.
“I said, turn around!” the merc shouted again.
Instantly Dan reacted. Without even thinking about it he dropped his arms and raced towards the Harashna. Almost as quickly he heard the sound of hot ozone crackling and bright blasts of light began to explode around him.
He reached the tower’s edge and leapt out over oblivion.


The sorcerer Harmony felt pleased with the way events had transpired. He sat on a throne of bone and blood that was magically erected from the dead carcasses that had been left piled around the Complex by Jeshux mercenaries. It was a ghastly thing to behold and the fact that he could stand to sit upon it was proof positive of Harmony’s inhumanity.
Harmony smiled and waited for his two goblin henchmen, Neebling and Snoregg, to answer his summons. He had just received a report from one of the spies that he had sent to AnEerth and was ready to order his army through the wormhole. He was pleased and so was in no hurry.
Yes, things seemed to be going his way. His army had easily routed the mercenaries from the Complex. The devilish horde could have easily crushed his enemies but he wanted word of his might to go ahead of him. He was confident of his strength and he wanted his enemies to tremble in fear from the anticipation of facing his power. He wanted them to suffer greatly in all possible manners. Harmony wanted them to suffer greatly so that he could feed off of their suffering and relish it as only a creature of pure evil could.
He laughed at the thought of what would come. Although his adversaries were resourceful, Jeshux attempt to destroy the wormhole by blowing up the control center was an example of this quality; they could never be expected to compete effectively against his genius. None could compare to him in magical prowess either. Not even the combined talent of all of the magical orders of AnEerth could hope to be his match, maybe once but no more. He laughed again for his absorption of earthen lore guaranteed this.
These things, these arrogances, were what motivated him to leave his enemies alive, for now. The certainty of his unequaled abilities, his unconquerable army, and their inevitable conquest of any and all, who may oppose him, these were the reasons that drove him to indulge in his unreasonable desires. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned his fate was sealed, nothing could come between him and total domination of not only one world, but two and possibly more after that. He chuckled again. Yes, why not more.
His destiny was manifest by him and him alone and had been since his birth. Not even the so called chosen ones would be able to withstand the crushing force of his will. None could hope to challenge him, especially not the vague predictions of some madman who had died millennia ago.
Harmony was almost giddy with excitement, as giddy as a bloodthirsty, barely human, world domineering sorcerer of the dark arts could be anyway. All he had to do was give the order and his vast, unstoppable army would begin infiltrating AnEerth on its way to the inevitable conquest of that ripe for the taking world.
Yes, he was pleased!


The hoof beats of a score of horses resounded like thunder, echoing throughout the confines of the ravine as their riders pushed them on at ever greater paces.
Jeshux was at the head of the procession on a huge mare with only bridle, reins, and a saddle blanket. The other horses dashing madly down the ravine road were similarly harnessed to ensure maximum endurance from minimum load handling. Each rider led a spare mount on a tether and practiced changing from one mount to the other in mid gallop at regular intervals. Each rider had started the journey with three horses and all had let loose one of them along the road. Heaving flanks and frothy nostrils told Jeshux that it would not be long before they would be forced to abandon another of their rapidly tiring steeds.
Damn the overwhelming strength of Harmony’s army! Jeshux swore under his breath.
Jeshux was riding to the Midnight Monastery as fast as he dared to push the horses. He hoped against hope that he would make it there ahead of the enemy so that he would be able to extradite Candlelite and Absinth to a new and safer location.
It had only a few days past since he had been forced for the second time to lead his men in retreat from the fury of Harmony’s dark army. Looking back on the entire affair Jeshux thought that he must have been a fool to have ever believed, no matter the conditions, that the diminished ranks of his mercenary army would ever be enough to stave off the inevitable invasion.
As soon as his men had delivered the report of the stranger’s infiltration and subsequent departure through the Harashna Jeshux had his men dig in and ready themselves for combat. It did not matter that the spy had slipped undetected into their camp; it was also irrelevant that, for whatever reason, there had not been anyone on guard duty at the tower’s top, it only mattered that they hold off Harmony’s forces long enough for King Zakeriah’s reinforcements to come to their aid.
Jeshux scowled in his saddle as he remembered the futility of the entire scheme. Mistakes were being made in this war, mistakes they just could not afford to make. There had not been close to enough time for the troops of the imperial army to be organized let alone teleported from the palace to the tower. Harmony’s soldiers had stormed from the Harashna in numbers that just would not have been possible naturally. Magic had been used, it was the only explanation.
Jeshux gave a hand signal and switched himself and his saddle blanket over to his spare steed. After completing this daring maneuver he risked a quick glance over his shoulder to be sure the rest of his men had followed his lead and then cut his previous mount adrift to fend for itself.
Putting his heels to his horse’s flanks Jeshux flashed back to the uncanny vision of Harmony’s soldiers as they flowed out of the Harashna like water from a tap. Literally like water they had proceeded to wash across the top of the tower. They swirled and eddied around his men stationed there before flowing down the vast staircase to eventually solidify into their normal forms, whether they be of werewolf, vampire, goblin, or human in shape. Once they were among the battlements of the camp itself they began to attack with the savage fury of the beasts they were.
Jeshux shook the disturbing memory from his mind. He had known within five minutes of the invasion beginning that he would have to sound another retreat. So without wasting any time he had runners carrying the message while McAriicoys gathered together a small force of a dozen men to escort him to the Midnight Monastery. These were the very souls that now accompanied him on this hellish ride.
Wanting to leave as soon as possible Jeshux waited just long enough to ensure the safety of his men before he left them in the care of McAriicoys to make their way to the palace.
Jeshux had had a bad feeling from the beginning of his flight that urged him into pushing the horses as hard as they could stand and before the mercenaries had been forced to abandon their first mounts they had overtaken a group of the enemy riding in wanton disregard of their steeds health.
Urging his horse to even greater speeds Jeshux had drawn his sword and caught two of the trailing goblins within its deadly arc as machine gun fire burst from behind him. With nowhere to hide the mercenaries made short work of the goblin riders, erasing their presence from the open road.
And now he was down to his last horse with still a ways to go. Knowing that more of the enemy would be sure to follow Jeshux never paused for a moment but hurried all the more towards the Midnight Monastery.

Miraculously enough their horses held out on them until they had reached their destination. Jeshux stopped his horse and the beast almost collapsed from under him as he slid off the saddle to the ground in one fluid motion.
The front doors of the monastery came open at the same time and Candlelite rushed down the steps closely followed by Absinthe and Vohrmint.
“Jeshux!” Candlelite exclaimed as he grabbed Jeshux hand in his own and clapped him on the back with the other. “It’s good to see you again!”
Jeshux shook the young man’s hand but his features remained tightly drawn and grim as he said, “It’s good to see you also. And you Absinthe, Vohrmint.” He gave the others a slight nod. “But this is no time for a happy homecoming. We need to leave immediately, all of us.”
Absinthe stepped forward and took Candlelite’s hand in both of hers. “We can be ready to leave within the hour.”
Jeshux shook his head negatively. “No good. Harmony’s fiends are hot on our trail. We need to leave now. Where’s Farewethor?”
Vohrmint spoke, “She took your messenger back to the palace at Dirsellia. He told her that all was forgiven by the King so she offered to bring him home. She thought it might be safer for him. But I can have everyone ready in no more than thirty minutes, then once you’re on your way me and my men will stay and act as a delaying force to buy you some time.”
Ignoring the big man’s offer for the moment Jeshux asked coldly, “What messenger are you talking about?”
A little startled by the question Vohrmint’s eyes hardened before he answered, “The one you sent ahead of you, first to the palace and then here.”
“I sent you no messenger,” Jeshux stated.
Everyone exchanged confused glances before Jeshux said, “Well there’s nothing we can do about that now, let’s shelve it and deal with it later.”
“What?” Candlelite exclaimed.
“I agree,” Vohrmint interrupted. “We have more important issues to attend at the moment, so, as to my plan sir?”
Jeshux nodded his head at Candlelite and told his lieutenant seriously, “Thank you my friend but I can’t ask you to stay here. There’re too many following us. It’d be suicide.”
Vohrmint’s eyes hardened further. “You didn’t ask, sir.”
Jeshux evaluated the battle-bred man before coming to a decision. He turned to the others and said, “Well all right then! What’re we standing around for? You’ve only got twenty-seven minutes left before departure!”
Candlelite and Absinthe had already retreated into the monastery to gather their few belongings and Vohrmint turned to the rest of his men who had subsequently gathered outside. “All right gentlemen!” he bellowed. “You heard the Commander General. Let’s prepare for war!”
“YES SIR!” the mercenaries raised their voices and their weapons in salute to their commanding officer and their leader.
Twenty-five minutes later everyone was ready and waiting outside the front of the monastery. Jin and his monks stood patiently at the top of the stairs and watched as last minute preparations were made by Vohrmint and his men. Two thirds of the men who had arrived with Jeshux also strapped on rifles and swords as Candlelite, Absinthe, and the others mounted fresh horses.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to leave with us?” Jeshux asked Jin from atop a large mare. “It won’t be safe for you to stay here.”
The wise old monk smiled benignly up at the