Dreamer dodged and flung the mirror. It struck the giant in the chest, toppled to the floor and shattered. Dreamer fled into the night. “He’s coming, tomorrow!” he shouted back into the stable.

The World Hater ground his teeth and threw down his sword in senseless anger. It fell into straw. He winced at the pain in his shoulder where the wound still seeped upon his cloak.

Why would the ancient wound not heal?

XIX

The first sound sleep we ever get on earth

We must be roused one realm away.

The Royal Road to the City of Man ran through death. The Singer wept as he beheld the charred etchings of city skylines. Nothing lived. The Army of the Liberation rode in silence.

At length, the Singer drew Light-Raider’s reins and slid from the saddle. Terra Two rested firm upon the saddle shelf, even as the grand horse threw his head toward the sky when the Troubadour dismounted. He led his horse through the carnage of Elan’s infamy.

As his boots moved through ashes that had once been the city of Aishorihm, his foot fell against an object in the swirling ash. Around the wasted torso of a decaying corpse was the seal of Ellanor. The tiny mirror reflected only ash.

Aishorihm had died for him who wished to rule the universe in his own name. The soldiers closed ranks silently behind the Troubadour. Their faces glistened as their eyes beheld the charred remains of depravity on Terra.

When he had walked and wept, the Singer mounted once again. In somber tones he sang above the ash of Aishorihm those haunting words that he had sung so long ago:

“They died absurdly whimpering for life.

They probed their sin for rationality.

Self murdered self in endless hopeless strife

And holiness slept with indecency.

All birth was but the prelude unto death

And every cradle swung above a grave.

The Sun made weary trips from east to west,

Time found no shore, and culture screamed and raved.

The world in peaceless orbits, sped along

And waited for the Singer and his song.”

The Singer sang no more. The smoke was too intense, his tears too frequent.

By noon they passed the zone of ashes and moved on toward the capital of Ellanor.

In an instant Ansond soared low above the troops and cried, “Vollkons!” He then flew on ahead. The army halted and watched the skies.

The evil shadows passed at stupefying speed. Then fire was everywhere! The flame scorched the earth about their feet, then fled. It blazed on each knight’s armor and yet it did not burn.

The army cheered and soon paid little heed to falling fire. Their eyes were turned to the skies, where Ansond and Invictrix sped to halt the flying dragons.

Ansond drew his sword to face the largest Vollkon. Invictrix maneuvered quickly and in the first pass Ansond’s blade cut one talon from the beast. The severed claw, still grasping its canister of death, impacted on the ground and scattered flame.