Chapter 19

K axim had been unable to get her out of his mind.

Their khamana connection continued to confound him, his thoughts lost in utter frustration at how much it consumed him.

Worse still, he’d had to admit he missed her.

Morning, noon, and night, he reminisced about their days spent in training.

Recalling her beauty, smile, husky intonation when she threw that alluring neck back and laughed with abandon.

She was driving him senseless.

He hated that the lingering tendrils of Liana’s kemí distracted him, and he wanted to shut it down but was powerless to do so.

To his significant irritation, sleep eluded him, so night after night, he escaped his encampment and glided across the skies due south.

Heat-seeking for her soul.

He tapped into his Kaldean power, bending distance and time to locate her.

It irked him that he had to go to these lengths. Most of the time, Kaxim refused to rely on his magus powers.

It was like cheating, an unfair advantage that lessened the purity of the conflict he believed life was meant to be.

He viewed his existence as a trial by fire, a test of strength, skill, and endurance. For him, victory of any kind had to be earned with blood, sweat, and hard work.

In his mind, magic stripped away the grit and savagery required to win. Suffering, hardship, and effort built character, and he had no desire to take shortcuts.

Using his fists, his sword, and his physical might grounded him in reality. It was through sheer force of will, through the pain of exertion and the clarity of combat, that he was most alive, most righteous.

Every blow struck, each wound taken, was a testament to his dedication to the cause, to his belief in the sanctity of struggle.

For Kaxim, utilizing magic was turning his back on that principle. It was too easy, clean, and far removed from the physicality of life’s challenges, and wielding his magus power too freely cheapened it.

Yet when the wind brought whispers of a battle and cries of war, he used his Kaldean íkan to pinpoint it.

When it was accompanied by a howl from her, his body locked.

Kaxim’s k?tu lurched, even as soul’s eye tagged a crimson streak cut across the southern horizon.

In his mind’s vision, the winged spirit emerged from the haze of smoke and dust. His heart pounded against his ribs, a wild hope surging through his veins.

‘Liana?’ he breathed, straining his keen eyes to make out details.

The distant silhouette moved with a familiar form, wings flashing scarlet in the sun. But something was wrong - the figure flew in erratic bursts, dipping and weaving as if injured or exhausted.

Fear gripped Kaxim anew.

Had she been caught up in the battle? Was she wounded, fleeing the carnage?

The vision was not the reality, but it was enough to give him her location.

He surged forward, his mighty wing beats eating up the distance between them.

The wind whipped at his face, stinging his eyes, but he didn’t dare blink, didn’t dare lose sight of that fragile hope.

But doubt crept in, insidious and cold. Could this be another trick of his tortured mind? Another phantom conjured by his desperate longing?

He was close to calling out, to cry her name into the void. But fear strangled his voice - worry that she would vanish like smoke if he dared to shatter the illusion.

So he flew on in urgent silence. Closing the gap with frantic heartbeats, he reached out with all fibers of his being towards that fragile wisp of crimson hope against the endless blue.

With a mighty sweep of his wings, Kaxim soared higher.

He would search every inch of this wild land, each peak and valley, until he found her - or till he discovered the terrible truth of her fate.

He transmuted to gyrfalcon form, which gave him even faster velocity.

Then, with a hiss, he propelled himself through the sky, streaking at the speed of light.

KySene’s largest square featured a magnificent fountain, which now ran red with the crimson blood of the fallen.

This was where Liana raced to.

A towering figure caught her eye, and Liana veered towards him, mouth peeled back in a snarl.

KaKos stood at the center of the K?str?l host in front of the gushing edifice. Resplendent in his ebony hawk pinions, his high commander’s K?str?l krest snapped above his head.

He loomed like a dark specter on the battlefield.

His vast, inky wings rippled with power as if they absorbed the darkness from the skies.

Beneath his helm, his lips twisted into a cruel sneer, revealing a glimpse of fangs sharpened from years of war.

His presence alone was enough to send chills through even the most seasoned warriors.

Hardened by countless battles, his face was lined with deep scars, each one a testament to the ruthless campaigns he had led.

His sharp, hawk-like eyes were as black as night, cold and calculating, ever watchful for weakness in his enemies.

His armor was a dull, battered steel streaked with the blood of those who had fallen before him, yet it gleamed with an ambiance of menace.

He carried a massive falchion, a weapon too heavy for most. Nevertheless, he wielded it with terrifying ease, cleaving through foes as if they were nothing.

His aura was unrelenting brutality, embodying the K?str?l army’s cruel, brutal spirit.

Every winged flap he took radiated authority, and his soldiers followed him with fear and reverence, knowing he would lead them to victory—or their brutal end.

His voice was like gravel, rough and harsh, as he barked orders to his troops. ‘Show no mercy. Crush their spirits and leave nothing in your wake.’

His words leached like poison, fueling the ferocity of his army as they prepared for yet another onslaught under his iron fist.

An alarm was signaled among his ranks, and he swiveled mid-air as Liana approached, her crimson plumage glimmering and spitting with luminous power.

He raised his sword in a mocking salute.

Liana crashed into the massive square’s stones with the force of a thunderbolt, her kríffin form in a blaze.

Her coquelicot pinions stretched out, each feather glowing with a vibrant vermilion, orange, and gold hue that shifted and shimmered in the sun.

With the crackle of fireballs and a flick of her wings, flames shot out from the end of her rachís .

She drove KaKos back with a flurry of scarlet lightning discharges.

‘Murderer!’ she screamed, punctuating the word with a display of her energy-firing power. ‘You will pay for every drop of Ilkanite blood spilled today!’

KaKos laughed, parrying her attacks with contemptuous ease. ‘Bold words, little queen.’ He smirked cruelly. ‘Let us see if you can back them up.’

She switched to her crimson blade.

Out of the corner of one eye, she spotted her ghostly Shadowing protectors slicing through a phalanx of enemy combatants. The battle was so vicious that she soon lost sight of them in the melee.

Eyes sliced back to KaKos, she surged, going in for the kill.

They traded blows in a deafening crescendo of steel on steel, wings buffeting the air as they fought.

A thrill of triumph sang through her veins despite her fury. Here was a foe worthy of her blade, a chance to unleash the full might of her birthright.

She would defeat this upstart warlord and scatter his armies to the winds.

For Ilkan. For her people.

For a glorious, fleeting moment, victory seemed within reach.

Without warning, KaKos lunged, his dark kízakan -coated weapon sliding past her guard to sink deep into her side.

Liana staggered back with a cry, one hand pressing against the wound as blood welled between her fingers.

KaKos advanced, death glittering in his eyes. ‘You should have surrendered when you had the chance, little queen.’ He raised his sword for the killing blow. ‘Now, you surrender to the hold of the netherworld while your precious kingdom burns.’

The wail sent a shiver of foreboding through Kaxim’s spirit.

He raced faster, locating its source.

It led to the wild borderlands.

As he flew closer to the edge of both kingdoms, the air grew heavy with the acrid scent of smoke, the clamor of distant battle, the clash of swords, and the screams of the dying.

‘Fokk the freakin’ Ilki and K?str?ls,’ Kaxim muttered.

He adjusted his laser gyrfalcon long-range focus, his eyes picking out the distinctive war banners fluttering above the fray from far away. ‘Hell, where is she?’

He dropped lower, skimming the treetops as he surveyed the battlefield, keeping to the shadows to remain undetected.

The combat was vicious.

The Ilkanites fought with their signature desert-bound ferocity, their elongated plumed wings glistening with sweat and blood as they surged against the K?str?l lines.

But the invaders clung on, returning each desperate defense with their sky dominance, superior numbers, and discipline.

‘This is madness,’ Kaxim growled, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. The urge to intervene, to stop the senseless slaughter, was almost overwhelming.

But he held back, hovering at the edge of the treeline.

He was an outsider here, a stranger to both armies. His mission was not to play peacemaker but to find Liana - if she still lived.

He had to see her if she was caught up in this insanity.

What if she was injured?

His entire body jolted at the thought.

The unfamiliar fear snaked over him.

For so long, his heart had been a closed fortress, guarded by years of pain and disappointment.

His spirit had tall and thick walls built to keep out any notion of affection or connection, and he bristled at the mere mention of women.

He had given up on finding love or solace in the company of others, content to live his life as a solitary warrior.

But as fate would have it, destiny had other plans for him, and the arrival of this fierce and alluring woman had turned his world upside down.

Stricken, he hovered closer to the battle, using a stealth approach.

‘Where are you?’ he whispered, scanning the smoke-streaked sky. ‘Give me a sign, anything.’

But the heavens denied him an answer, impacted with falling bodies, parrying warriors, and wheeling carrion eaters drawn by the promise of fresh carcasses.

Kaxim’s heart clenched, a cold dread settling in his gut.

Liana’s vision blurred, her strength leaching away with every drop of blood.

Despair threatened to overwhelm her.

Had she led her people to ruin?

Was this to be her legacy - the inexperienced queen who presided over the fall of Ilkan?

‘ Nada ,’ she whispered, forcing herself to stand.

She would not let it end like this. Not while breath remained in her body.

KaKos’s blade arced down, and Liana threw her body aside, crying out as the movement sent fresh agony lancing through her.

She rolled to her feet, her swords crossed to catch the warlord’s next blow.

Their eyes met over the gleaming steel, and she tagged the flicker of surprise in his gaze.

‘I will never surrender,’ she snarled, shoving him back with a burst of fading strength. ‘The Ilki Kingdom will never fall, so long as one of us still stands to defend her.’

KaKos snorted. ‘Then I will cut you down, one by one, until none remain.’

He came at her again, his attacks relentless, implacable.

Liana gave ground before him, parrying with desperation, each strike reverberating through her battered frame.

Her wings faltered, no longer able to keep her aloft.

She stumbled, going to one knee, and KaKos’s sword hammered down, shattering her blade.

Disarmed, wounded, she glared up at him in defiance. ‘Finish it, then.’

KaKos raised his weapon, and Liana braced herself for the end.

But the blow never fell.

Instead, a sharp and pressing horn blared.

KaKos hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the sound.

An urgent cry sounded over the tumult of battle. ‘A Sāb?r warrior, flying fast and hard towards our position. It’s a gyrfalcon, one of their elite Hawks.’

The K?str?l leader blanched, his face contorted with fear. ‘Fokk, this might mean a squadron of hawks might be close.’

‘This isn’t over,’ KaKos growled, stepping back. ‘We will meet again, little queen.’

With a whirl of his black rachís , he was gone, launching skyward in fevered retreat to rejoin his forces as they took off, tracking rapidly away from KySyene.

Liana sagged, her vision dimming.

She heard the whispered approach of panicked wings and hisses from her pair of guards.

K’Otona spirited to her, pressing cold hands into Liana’s side to stem the blood flow.

Around them, the Ilkanites flailed, injured, broken, and battered by the victorious K?str?ls.

But Liana was alive. Ilkan still stood. And so long as that remained true, there was still hope.

Darkness claimed her, and she knew no more.