Champions Vol. 02

Laurena merely nodded. She still did not believe that she could ever commit an act as heinous Nefertari had, but she now clearly saw the seeds of that character defect in herself. She would have to be vigilant, or she might just find herself on the same path.

"My trial is ended, and I have no magics to share with you. There is no spell that could have prevented what I did, or fixed my flawed thinking. Also, I believe those memories are all that I can expect you to accept from me.

"I do have a final request of you though," the spirit implored. "Please never share that memory with anyone. Do not speak of it, but think upon it from time to time. Someday you will finish walking as a Champion of Eros and come to take your final rest here. When you do, let me know if you think that I redeemed myself. Tell me if I am worthy of forgiveness..."

As the troubled spirit of Nefertari faded from view, Laurena felt a twinge of sympathy and sadness for the Fallen Champion. She had continued to serve Eros for five centuries after those memories had occurred; every day trying to atone for a single mistake. Yes, it was a horrible, terrible mistake...but still. Over five hundred winters of bearing the duties and responsibilities of a Champion, and Nefertari still did not know if she deserved forgiveness.

*** Chapter 32: The Trial of Sacrifice ***

031812JUN13 DW

14^th of Pyanepsion, 2351 EC

The Isle of Eirini

Laurena sat in the darkness of the tomb for quite a while after Nefertari left, her mind a jumble of emotions. She wanted to feel sympathy for the Fallen Champion -- just as she felt for Ophelia and Tlacelel -- but she simply could not. As difficult as it was, she could accept that she possessed some of the same character flaws that led to Nefertari's horrible actions. However, she could not imagine ever doing something that so fundamentally violated the tenants of Erosian faith. Worse, that inability to forgive the former Champion made her wonder if David and Sapphire truly forgave her for her own mistakes.

To say that the young Champion's mind was troubled would have won the 'Understatement of the Century' award.

After much reflection she resolved to follow two courses of action. First, she would speak with both David and Sapphire individually and fully confess to them all of her previous mistakes. Once they knew every detail of her selfish machinations, she would apologize, and ask them if they still forgave her. She hoped they would, but she was prepared to accept their condemnation if it happened. Second, she would learn as much as she could about the life of Nefertari, Second Champion of Eros. After the Amandurans were defeated and the world was saved, she would seek out every historian that she could find. The spirit had asked Laurena to judge her life, and determine if she had earned the redemption Eros gave her. No matter how terrible her actions, her six centuries of service to Eros and their world should at least earn her a fair judgment.

Resolved, Laurena rose from the ground and considered her surroundings. She had been so focused on her thoughts that she had not realized her spell of light had ceased long ago. However, the tomb was still softly lit. Looking around for the source, she did not have to search long.

"Hello, Champion Laurena," the glowing spirit greeted her. He was the source of the light, his ethereal form radiating dim illumination into the surrounding darkness. In less than a second Laurena recognized him from the sculpted image on his sarcophagus, not that there was much doubt as to who he was. He was the only Fallen Champion who had not visited her yet.

"Hello, Champion Amyntas," Laurena replied respectfully, bowing her head in deference. This was the First Champion, Defender of Erosius, Banisher of Demons, Bringer of Peace, who led the faithful into the new world. If even half the legends told of his deeds were true, then she was in the presence of true greatness.

"I can tell that the trials you have faced so far left you troubled," the spirit of Amyntas said. "And I am heartened to see that you have accepted the importance of each message. The lessons you have learned today will make you a far better servant of our god. I wish I could say that you were finished here, but there is one more trial you must face before your spiritual journey is complete."

Laurena nodded in acceptance.

"The memory I will share with you is a painful one, just like the others you have endured today," the spectral Champion explained. "However, more than any other Champion that has come before you; you must have it to have a hope for success. You face a greater task than any other Champion, you must defend our world from a rival Champion, and you must do so without the centuries of experience which would help you succeed. It is likely that many lives will be lost in the coming conflict, but it is your responsibility as the Champion of Eros to ensure that those lives are not wasted."

Moving towards her, Amyntas raised a ghostly hand towards her brow. "When you are ready, I will share with you the Trial of Sacrifice," he said solemnly.

"I am ready," Laurena declared bravely.

The spirit's fingertips touched her temple, and the light flashed for the final time...

* * *

She was astride a large horse, atop a hill, overlooking a vast plain. The feeling of the body She was in was not comfortable for Her, but She recognized the difference. She was in a man's body again, inside the memory of Amyntas, First Champion of Eros. She felt a sharp pain in Her crotch, and Her left hand absentmindedly reached down to shift Her testicles into a more comfortable position. As Her hand lightly massaged the discomfort from Her offended parts She could not help but feel amusement at how different it was to be a man seated on a horse. She now understood why David shifted in the saddle so often.

"Polemarch, the enemy approaches."

The voice jolted Her from Her contemplations, and returned Her attention fully to the memory.

"Thank you, Slate," the voice of Amyntas replied from Her lips. Turning She nodded in thanks to the 28-foot-long dragon. Amyntas emotions were calm and unfazed by the enormous winged reptile crouched comfortably a few yards away, but She was astonished. She had never seen a real dragon before, having only ever read of them in the Great Temple Library and heard stories of them as a child. The thing was huge, but She could distinctly feel the appreciation from Amyntas for how Slate's small size and youth made him an excellent scout. He also possessed a very unique coloration for a gray dragon. His scales were a mottled grey/brown, extremely rare among grays, which often allowed him to mimic an earthen mound if he remained still.

"I know that there were many dragons that did not wish for your people to join us in this fight, and I wanted to thank you one more time before this final confrontation. I promise you that the decision you and your kin made to help us in our time of need will be forever remembered by our people," She promised.

"I have learned in the three centuries since your people joined us in these lands that while they have short lives, they have long memories," Slate replied. "There was a time when your people and ours were as one. Despite the decision of the elders to withdraw us to the forests and the mountains, I believe that there is still much our people can do together. It is my hope that those of us -- few as we are -- who defied the elders and chose to fight at your side can somehow remind the old ones of this fact."

She nodded. It was something that She had discussed with Slate numerous times during this campaign, and truly hoped that She could help with when it was all over. She owned this young dragon more than She could ever repay, and that debt had nothing to do with the war they had fought together.

After living nearly three and a half centuries, She had begun to forget the simple joys of the world around her. Slate -- who was just beginning his second century -- had reminded her that sometimes the simplest things could contain the greatest joy. A single wild flower, the fluttering of a butterfly, a mother dog nursing its pups, or the crashing of ocean waves against a rocky cliff could all possess a unique beauty of their own. Her unlikely friendship with this dragon had restored Her love of life.

"If I survive this day, I will return with you to the Dracian lands," She offered. "I will stand at your side and tell the old ones of everything that you have done for us, and of the powerful bonds of trust and brotherhood that can be forged between our people. I never agreed with them on their reasons for separating your people from us, but it was their decision to make. I too hope that what we have done together can help to change their minds."

Slate bowed his head respectfully, appreciative of his Polemarch's promise of help. He faced a major battle of wills against the elder dragons when he returned home, and the support of Eros' Champion would be a significant boon.

"Lead Scout," She announced formally, causing Slate to straighten attentively, "share this report with the lochagoes, and inform them that there are no changes to the battle plan. Then rejoin your brethren and await your signal."

"At once, Polemarch," Slate replied, and with a quick flap of his wings the gray/brown dragon took to the sky to deliver his message.

After watching Her friend depart, She returned Her gaze the horizon in front of Her. She could not see the individual soldiers of the Demon Cult army coming for them, but by the size of the dust cloud above them She was able to tell that Slate's troop estimates were likely accurate. 1,000 soldiers and demons were approaching Her mora, and Her own 1,500 troops would be hard pressed to defeat them. Slate had not been able to even approximate the number of demons in the cult army heading their way, but if the past battles in this campaign were any indication there were at least ten. Worse, one of these was the Demon Lord, and far more powerful than any their mora had faced before.

Sighing, She moved Her horse to rejoin the ranks of soldiers below. She needed to calm Her troops before the battle...

"Polemarch, you shouldn't be here," yelled a fearful soldier beside Her as the next memory began.

"Of course not," She replied with Amyntas' voice, as She parried a spear thrust with Her sword. "I should be in Oasis, sipping mulled wine and deciding how many beauties I want to Bless at the next worship service," She joked. "Unfortunately, Oasis was overrun by this damned Demon Cult and the few Oasian beauties that survived are well west of us seeking sanctuary at Athens. So what say we kill all these bastards, banish this Demon Lord, and accept their heartfelt thanks when they return," She added with a feral grin.

She blocked a second spear with Her heavy shield, and stepped quickly forward to drive Her blade into Her attacker. Wrenching the sword from the man's chest, She turned to strike his distracted companion as well. Turning to engage a third spearman, She saw that Her appearance on the front line had stemmed the charge of the cultists, and they were backing away from Her. Unfortunately, the ranks behind them left little room to flee.

Seeing that the breakthrough of Her lines had been temporarily halted, She took a moment to cast a spell of mental protection as far and as wide as She could. The Erosian troops around Her instantly stopped trying to flee in panic, and their lines reorganized rapidly in the presence of their polemarch and Champion.

Turning Her attention back to the enemy lines, She could see the hulking figure of the Demon Lord near their sixth and final rank. She had been waiting for him to make an appearance, and he had done so moments ago.

Her mora was well trained, and had gained much experience during the last four months of fighting one battle after another during this campaign. Unfortunately, the hell magic of the Demon Lord was powerful, and the aura of fear he had projected onto Her troops had caused a break in their lines.

Stepping back, She allowed the reserve force She had led into the breach to fill in Her mora's lines. Her troops were holding their own against the barbaric ferocity of the cultists, and now that the Demon Lord was exposed it was time for Her own surprise.

Pulling a signal horn from Her belt, She cast a quick spell of amplification on it and blew the horn. The note resounded louder that the clap of a thousand thunderheads, and the enemy force was momentarily immobilized by the startling sound. Her troops capitalized on this, and many cultists were slain in those moments.

Lowering the horn, She began to channel Her magic for the spell of banishment. It was an ancient spell, nearly as much ritual as magic, and it would take a few minutes to complete. Minutes the Demon Lord could use to cause great havoc, or attempt to flee. He needed to be distracted until it was too late to escape, and it was up to Her forces to do so.

Lowering herself to kneel on the dusty ground, Her personal guard took up a defensive circle around Her. They were the ten best fighters in the entire mora, and felt honored to protect their Champion. It would be their job to ensure that She would not be distracted, and remain close enough to the Demon Lord for the spell to work.

As She pulled a handful of items needed for the ritual from the satchel on Her waist, She heard the sound of Her most powerful force finally joining the battle.

With mighty roars, six dragons heralded their arrival. Swooping in from the left flank of the Erosian force, two gray dragons (one with distinctive gray/brown scales), two green dragons, one white dragon, and one enormous blue dragon dove toward the rear lines of the cultists and opened their jaws wide. As those men recoiled in fear, the two grays spat powerful bolts of lightning into their ranks, the two greens immolated them with massive plumes of fire-breath, the white froze them by expelling a narrow cone of air so cold it froze men solid in an instant, and lastly the blue shrieked with a howl so discordant that it splintered wood, cracked metal, and stopped enemy soldier's hearts.

The area Her dragon cavalry devastated with their charge was not large. They had only killed a few dozen soldiers with it. But the terror their appearance on the battlefield caused, as well as the horrendous, painful, and instant demise of nearly fifty of their troops, shocked the cultist force, and threw their lines into turmoil. The Erosian response to their appearance was much different.

As She began to chant She placed the ritual objects into their proper place. All around Her, a great cheer arose from Her mora when they realized that the dragons had finally come. Once each object was in its proper place and alignment, She closed Her eyes, and focused on Her magic as Her chant commanded it to seek out the Demon Lord.

It only took moments, but in the heat of battle -- with Her men dying every second -- it felt like an eternity. Finally, Her magic found the demon, and She yelled in anger as She realized that the creature was trying to use its hell-magic to escape.

Opening Her eyes, She looked through the ranks of fighters to where The Demon Lord was summoning a portal. It would take him away from the battle, either back to Oasis or to his infernal home. Either way, if he escaped he would be free to travel at will. The only way to remove the creature from their world was to complete the spell of banishment, which would ensure that it could not return for two millennia.

She chanted as quickly as She could, but this was not a spell She could rush, and She raged at the thought that this demon would escape Her.

Suddenly a massive roar pierced the air, so loud that the ground shook beneath Her. The enormous blue dragon, all fifty feet of claws, fangs, and fury dove at the Demon Lord. This was not the plan! She thought angrily. The dragons were never supposed to engage the demons. That was the arrangement that they had agreed upon when they joined the mora. Ignoring this fact, the blue dragon engaged the Demon Lord.

Its spell interrupted, the Demon Lord dove aside at the last moment, and the blue dragon crashed into the empty space. Its talons dug massive furrows into the ground, and the impact of its body sent a tremor through the earth all around it.

Leaping to his feet, the Demon Lord summoned a flaming sword and shield and charged the massive blue dragon. The Demon Lord was not small, standing over ten feet tall, but the fifty foot dragon still towered over him. The dragon slashed with his claws, trying to eviscerate the demon, but the fiend blocked the blow with his flaming shield. The pain filled scream of the dragon as its claw burned echoed across the shocked humans nearby. Both sides -- Erosian and cultist -- had paused in their deadly struggle to witness the battle between the two titans.

She continued Her spell, hoping that Her ally could distract the demon for the precious minutes She needed to complete the ritual magic.

The injured dragon hopped backward, balancing on its three uninjured claws while trying to avoid the hellfire sword swiping at it. The Demon Lord was too fast though, and the dragon suffered searing slash after searing slash as it tried desperately to defend itself. With a flap of its wings, the dragon took to the air to escape the brutal assault, but the Demon Lord called forth its magic and scorched the delicate membranes holding its enemy aloft with a jet of hellfire.

Screeching in horrendous pain, the dragon lost control of its escape flight and crashed to the earth, one of its wings snapping with a sound like a felling tree as it was crushed beneath the dragons' bulk. Moving with terrible speed, the Demon Lord rushed to its fallen foe and buried his flaming sword into the dragon's skull, silencing its wail of agony.

The death of the dragon rallied the cultist forces, who resumed fighting with terrible fury. But the Erosians answered that fury with their own vengeance fueled rage, incensed by the death of one of their valiant protectors.

The dragon's sacrifice had provided a sorely needed distraction for Her though, and She was nearly finished with the banishment. Beginning the last few verses of the chant, She felt the Demon Lord once again summoning his portal. It would be a close thing.

As She neared the final verse, the hell portal appeared. It would not be enough! The Demon Lord was going to escape! After all the death, and tragedy, the foul creature would get away and continue to terrorize their world.

Rushing the final verse, She watched with helpless fury as the Demon Lord's lead foot crossed the threshold of the portal. But that was as far he got. Latched firmly around his rear leg was the mouth of a small gray dragon. Slate had defied the agreement as well, and snuck forward to aid his kinsman. His unique scales had served him well once again. He had blended into the billowing dust clouds disturbed by the battle, and avoided notice while everyone's attention was on the dueling titans. He had not been able to reach the fight in time, but he refused to allow the demon who had slain his kin to escape.