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the top of the palisade as the archers reformed a ready formation. Two staggered lines bristled with arrows, stretching across the peak. Orders were shouted down to the soldiers behind.

Ryl scanned ahead, pushing his mindsight to the extremities of its range. A shadowed disturbance moved through the wall of black that exuded from the Horde. The shadows were a deep charcoal, wispy yet oozing with a demonic hatred. He felt the first wave of emotion as it crept up the avenue. It was a ripple at first, a meager black wave, large enough to lap only against his legs. He could feel the tidal wave that followed in its wake.

“The Lei Guard,” Fay screamed from above. “Thousands.”

A burning sensation began from his left arm. The crook of his elbow tingled for a moment before a mellow throbbing took its place. Ryl knew the sensation would grow. He knew it would become agonizing before it cleared. He wouldn’t fight it this time.

“How is your leg, Paasek?” Ryl called back to the massive phrenic.

“I’m not dead, Ryl. Neither am I crippled,” the phrenic councilor boomed in response. “I will stand. I will fight.”

He knew that would be the answer no matter what his condition. With the assistance of Ramm on one side, the phrenic councilor shooed off the menders, who’d only just finished a crude suture. His clothing was stained with blood, both black and red. Paasek struggled to maintain the appearance of calm.

“These are not demons we fight now, I’m afraid,” Ryl muttered as they closed upon their position. “These are tributes.”

“I understand, Ryl,” Paasek intoned, placing his weighty arm on his shoulder. “I’ve seen the bodies of the others inside the Erlyn. You barely survived fifty. No, Ryl, thousands will destroy you.”

Ryl squeezed his fists together. He understood the logic, yet what other choice was there? The elementalists were nearly spent. His body felt hollow. His strength, his power, was severely depleted. The arrows from the palisade wouldn’t last long.

He wanted to scream with all his might. To ignite the Leaves and charge headlong into battle. As the Lei Guard approached their position, so too did the pain in his arm rise.

“Fall back. Inside the wall,” Ryl ordered. “We’ll hold them to the narrow quarters of the mouth of the gate.”

The logic was painful to accept, yet clear. What hope did he, did they have against an army of millions? Against the might of the combined hatred of a kingdom, one that had festered and grown for over a thousand cycles.

If the king was to fall, who would the Lei Guard follow? The answer was clear. The man they were named after likely skulked among their midst.

If Leiroth were to fall, who would they follow? It wasn’t the Lei Guard the Horde feared. It was the unseen threat that they represented. Would the Horde turn on them if their master was no more?

Ramm and Paasek moved toward the great gate, following the menders, who were scrambling ahead of them. The call rang out to open the panels as they approached. Paelec was the next to depart. Andr remained by his side, his sword drawn. The mercenary’s calculating gaze rolled across the stagnant Horde, who jostled as they parted before their blackened host.

“I told you I’d be by your side until the end, my friend,” Andr said somberly.

His friend turned his head for a moment, their eyes locked. The look that passed between them needed no words.

“If only I had a father like you, my friend.” Ryl sighed. “When these gates fall, you need to ride. I will not let you abandon your son like mine abandoned me.”

Andr grinned. It was a weak attempt, yet it momentarily wiped the worry from his face.

“Cray will understand in time,” Andr stated. “If my death serves to buy him another moment of respite, it will be worth the cost. His charge is to lead them to Vim.”

Ryl wanted to argue with the mercenary. He wanted to persuade him to change his mind. He knew the added emotion he commanded could help sway his decision, yet even if he could convince him to leave, once the feeling faded, he’d only return once more.

They backpedaled for a few meters before retreating toward the gate. The line of Horde shuffled anxiously as he moved yet remained where they stood. From behind them, growls and yelps arose as the Lei Guard pummeled any who failed to part fast enough.

On the wall above, the commanding voice of Le’Dral rang out. The seasoned captain barked orders, verbally chiding those inside the gate for the delay. Ryl knew but little of the work that had gone into securing the interior gate. Workers hastened to remove the chains and supports they’d anchored into place.

It was several anxious moments before the doorway finally cracked open. The nervous menders were the first to slip through the gap, disappearing into the darkness inside. Following close behind were Ramm and Paasek. The elder phrenic leaned heavily on the other’s shoulder.

Ryl turned his head back to the avenue as Paasek slipped beyond the heavy wooden panel. The front line of the demons parted rudely in the middle as if a great force pushed them aside. The first of the black-cloaked warriors streamed through the gap.

The wave of raw fear was chilling. He felt his body flinch as it crushed him against the wall. Andr’s shook from the impact. Ryl could sense the projected emotions of the phrenics above struggling to hold the shadow of malignant feelings from suffocating them all. He added his emotions to the mix. Hope streamed from his body.

His strength ebbed as he struggled under the unimaginable weight. He could feel the alexen inside his veins shiver. Their normally agitated motions were subdued, as even they suffered under the assault.

Ryl squeezed his fists together, focusing on the alexen in his left arm. The black streaks of the tattoos receded. He gritted his teeth as he gave in to the throbbing pain that had grown

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