Chronicles of Gondwana - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8-THE BATTLE

Not so far away now, in Aquilifon’s dark citadel, the Destroyer was still sprawled in his dais, tapping his fingers. Then he turned his humongous head at the other figure in the room.

“I’m impatient,” Krovin snarled his crossbow in hand.

“Your wait is ended, my friend. By tomorrow the ones who will kill you will arrive at this citadel. And I promise you, you will have a fight like you’ve never had before.”

Krovin’s face contorted into an evil grin and he smirked sardonically.

Valeri’s army had fully camped out in the canyons. The valley where Aquilifon had has lair was already in sight down below. Bright, lighted bonfires were all around the camp. Around such one bonfire sat the prophetess, Primrose and Kazansky.

“Tomorrow, the valley below will be filled with noble blood, the blood of my tribe, the blood of heroes,” the prophetess said ominously. “I wonder where Charny scurried off to. It’s getting too late in the night,” Primrose said, looking worried.

“As a matter of fact, your Majesty, here he comes now,” Kazansky said, pointing. The three all turned their heads to where the Russian was pointing. Indeed, Charnaiz had returned—and he had company.

“Comrade Major!” Natasha exclaimed when she saw who Charnaiz had brought her to. Primrose came over to where Charnaiz stood. “You do know I was worried, Charny,” she said sternly. “Everything’s fine,” he said, kissing her on the forehead and embracing her.

“Boshe noi! Now what is that thing doing here?!” Kazansky asked Natasha, pointing at Mookie who was still trapped in the force field.

“For some reason, sir, that blue guy over there and I felt that we just had to bring him along.”

Reynold still did not take his eyes off Charnaiz. The blonde king felt quite elated and awkward at the same time. Yet, he knew that the reason for it was so mysterious even he would not fathom it. Valeri now stepped forward. “Now the instruments of the prophecy are complete.” She turned to Charnaiz and Primrose. “The Couple of Destiny.” Then she faced Kazansky and Natasha. “The Couple of Fate.” Finally, she fixed her gaze on Reynold and Mookie. “The Blue Wolf and the Velvet Fur.”

Primrose then said, “Now, only the Lost One is left to be found, right?”

“We already know who that is,” Charnaiz answered her quickly. “It’s that samurai who attacked us, Shruiken.”

“Aye. It is as you have said, my Lord,” Valeri said. Then she turned to Reynold. “Now, you and the king must come with me, Blue Wolf. It is to reveal to you who one is to the other.” Then the prophetess led the two of them across a rock gulley, apart from the rest of the camp. “Now, my Lords, it is my task to reveal all that you need to know. Charnaiz, this is your son, Reynold of the Azurenians.”

“My son?!” repeated Charnaiz. “Then this is the one Primrose and I will have in the future?”

“Nay, my Lord. I would explain more, but I must make haste for the battle draws near. And now, I need the two of you to kneel down.” They knelt, and Valeri placed her hands on their heads. And the prophetess closed her eyes.

Charnaiz, though his eyes were also closed, saw in his mind’s eye a flashing array of images. He did not know if Reynold was also seeing the same things. Then Charnaiz saw all he needed to know. He saw into his nation’s future. He saw how he would die, and the Iris depart from his body and possess many people. Ha also saw how this young man, Reynold, would champion the Blue Iris and take the effort to unite Adrior once more. Charnaiz was amazed at all he had learned, and he wanted more. But Valeri suddenly opened her eyes, and the images stopped. He opened his eyes, looking elated, and judged from Reynold’s face that the Azurenian must also have been pleased with his own revelation about Charnaiz. He then turned to Reynold and bowed deeply to him. “My son,” he said. The Azurenian then made reverence to the king all idolized in his own world and time. “Santi Charny,” he replied, returning the bow. And they went back together to the camp. All of them did not sleep at all that night. Instead, they conversed with each other, knowing more about the other’s world and time, and vice-versa.

And nearby, the samurai assassin, Shruiken crouched behind the rocks. He was not done with them yet. The wounds they inflicted on him had started to itch, and he cursed them for it. He would finish the battle, and reclaim his honor.

The next morning. Before dawn, Valeri had already started moving her forces down into the valley below. She had left Charnaiz, Primrose, Kazansky, Natasha and Mookie up above. They already knew what their role would be. By sunrise, Valeri’s cavalry forces were already rushing towards aquilifon’s citadel. In front of them in the distance, barring their way was a massive force of men, outnumbering them at least three to one. These were Aquilifon’s enslaved tribes.

Atop the canyon, Charnaiz was impatient. “Let’s start it. The first casualties,” he remarked. He couldn’t wait for the two armies to crash into each other. He raised his hand, clenched it, and it came on fire. A fireball rose up from it. It split into two, then four, and multiplied quickly. And when he felt that he had enough, Charnaiz hurled them at the bulk of Aquilifon’s army. Screams and cries of pain soon followed, and confusion and panic shortly afterwards.

“Impressive. Very impressive,” they all heard a voice that to Charnaiz already sounded so familiar. The disembodied voice continued, “Now that you are all here, my rebirth can begin in earnest.”

Then they all felt a strange sensation. The next instant, they all found themselves in the thick of the fighting. The two armies had already caught up on each other. Charnaiz ripped off his cassock to reveal his black and red armor beneath. Primrose unleashed her siren blast on the surrounding foes. And Kazansky and Natasha, covering each other’s back, brandished their weaponry.

In the sky above, Aquilifon the Destroyer himself appeared solidly, his gigantic frame enveloping the sunlight. “What was I thinking?” he said mockingly. “I need you people alive, after all. And I want some entertainment.”

They all felt the warping sensation again. And next, they dropped into hard sand, about a mile away from the heavy fighting. Kazansky, slowly getting up, noticed two figures walking towards them. He recognized them instantly.

“Gerhardt!” And behind him was the mafia boss in his world whose face he hoped never to see again. “Krovin,” he muttered, although the Krovin he knew did not wear a knight’s medieval armor. “You mangy bastard!”

Charnaiz quickly raced to his side, just as Natasha also flanked her boss. “Let’s rock," was all Gondwana’s king could say.