Black Dawn - Chapter 28: Lumina's Champion

As the resurrected Turim races toward Grendelock Keep, Sand's recklessness puts him in a terrible confrontation.

Armageddon TM and its characters and story are copyright Terry Tibke. All rights reserved.

Music & SFX

[Powerful Epic Copyright Free Music] via Tunetank, [Starry Dream] by David Fesliyan, [Cockroaches] by Alexander Nakarada, [The Devil’s Cell] by XX, [Aeon - Flux & Fox Mix] by Avanar, [Virus] by David Fesliyan, [Various Others] via Storyblocks Audio

Gore Rend by magnuswaker, [See Previous Episodes for all other effects]

 Jake Utter [Voice Actor] - Voices Turim Gliderlance

Andrew Embers [Voice Actor] - Voices Sand Rocketblade

Demetrius Hazel [Voice Actor] - Voices Lasertooth, Bartlett, and Darf Bloodshedder

Kobe Markworth [Voice Actor] - Voices Grandmaster Strongthorn, Thunderclap, Breed, and Gulanis

Sean Valley [Voice Actor] - Voices Strevan Pickaxe and Dithkanir

Hayley Craig [Voice Actress] - Voices Jaffrine Maplebow

Morgana LeFaye [Voice Actress]- Voices Tartara Silverwing, Extras

Tallent [Voice Actor] - Voices General Panthis Obsidianfist 

JJtheJetvox [Voice Actor] - Voices Meineken Shadowstar and Aruthil

Brittanie Arwen [Voice Actor] - Voices Sinfa Songbird

Ben Habel [Voice Actor] – Voices Lakalith Paledust, Admiral Peelwarden

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot, Kithria Wraithchasm, and Ryuki Purplefist

Aaron Anderson [Voice Actor] – Voices Aldor Steelaxe and Dark Elves

Chris Bellinger [Voice Actor] – Voices Gundak, Percin and Dwarf extras

Alexander Doddy [Voice Actor] – Voices Rail Markrune, Van Leadsword

Callum Garner [Voice Actor] – Voices Gewurmarch Rottbone

Dio Kerr [Voice Actor] – Voices Dustorn and Hiryoto Dragonfright

Jerron Bacat [Voice Actor] – Voices Goblins, Artho, Ninjas, Dark Elves, Extras

Big Boy Buff Boy [Voice Actor] – Voices Goblins, Hao Grimswallow, Extras

Brandon Woodcock [Voice Actor] – Voices Goblins, Clergy, Extras

Kimerakii [Voice Actor] – Voices Lumina

Transcript

Turim awoke with a sudden gasp of air. His body felt cold again, but warm enough to know he was alive. A breeze graced his skin.

The air around him smelled like death. Darkness held the skies, save the light shivering forth from the moon. Grasses swayed in the night breeze, red and stained with blood. Above his face, he saw the steam of his breath and smiled.

Slowly he sat up. He looked at himself to see if it was a beautiful dream he’d met the angel Lumina, but the armor had been reforged and shone blue in the moonlight, glinting as a star. It hadn’t been a dream. The Lady of Light had been real.

He took a deep breath and got to his feet. The plains were covered in carcasses of men and elves, but most of the dead were dragons—great, dark hulks of meat that lay there like slaughtered cattle.

To the west, he saw Grendelock Keep in the distance. It was many leagues off, but surrounding it was a swarming mass of the Dragon Army’s dragonriders, climbing and pouncing from the walls. They’d begun their night siege of the keep.

A knot formed in Turim’s stomach at the sight. He wanted to be there to help his friends and fellow knights. He was determined to take part, and he was now compelled to find Gewurmarch Rottbone. “Do I stand a chance against him?” He still wasn’t sure. “I'll deal with that when I find him.” With nothing else he could do, he broke into a hasty run toward the keep.

The grasses whipped past his legs. He heard the gentle noise of them against his armor, which was considerably lighter than his previous set. But it still made that swishing and tinkling he’d always loved. He remembered his mother—remembered the farm.

He kept running for several minutes and continued to approach the rear of the enemy with each passing moment.

But then he saw a blue dragon. He slowed. Though it was no strange thing—there were many on the field—the dragon wore the riding shield of the Knights of the Hawk. Turim knew immediately. It was Thunderclap's body.

“No!” exclaimed Turim with pain in his heart. “It can’t be. You followed me into death?!”

But at his speech, Thunderclap stirred. His chest heaved a labored breath. Aside from that, however, he didn’t move.

Turim approached. He reached out hesitantly and laid his hands on the vast reptile—as if he’d been bidden to. The scales were cold. Thunderclap’s back bent in an odd turn.

Turim closed his eyes and spoke a soft prayer, hoping Lumina still watched:

Hope in darkness,

Hope in light,

might Thee shelter

us in spite

of all things wrong

and foolish done.

May light be there

For needy ones.

Then, slowly, he saw sunlight trickle from a dark sky. It danced softly on Thunderclap’s skin like liquid flame raining from the heavens. In an instant, Thunderclap rolled over and let forth a yawning moan as if waking from sleep.

Turim realized he’d been gifted with a miracle of healing. “By The God, Thunderclap, you’re alive! You’re alive! You don’t know how happy I am to see you!”

Thunderclap stared in awe at Turim. He lifted to his feet with the help of his wings, gaping. “Turim!? How could you—why did you—? I can’t put into words the grief I felt at your loss, and now you live?” He roared.

Turim backed a step, but smiled. “Indeed, I’ve returned. But that’s a long story, and one I’m not sure I want to recall just yet. Come, we have to hurry. The Dragon Army is on the walls. We don’t have much time left before they enter the keep!”

Thunderclap looked toward Grendelock Keep. He nodded, then knelt so Turim could return to his saddlemount.

“It’s time to fly again, my friend,” said Turim, climbing up and rigging his broken straps. “Do you think you can? I’ll light your way with the Aureate Mace.”

“What?”

“It was a gift given to me by the protector known as Lumina.” He held it out, and it lit the night. “We shall fear no darkness.”

Besides this, there weren’t any other dragons in the sky around them. They wouldn’t be in danger of collision, and they could come up behind the enemy swiftly.

Thunderclap simply nodded. He apparently wasn’t sure what to say to all this. Turim just tried to stay focused. He didn’t know what to make of it all either. Then the blue dragon lifted into the air with a powerful burst of energy.

“Make haste, my friend,” said Turim. “Time doesn’t bode well for us now.”

* * *

Sand watched several dragons leap over the walls as he and the others came out from the tower staircase. They kept moving, the rangers, and Turim’s other companions. Knights were everywhere though, running all around them.

Suddenly Sinfa halted, looking at something. “We have to keep these two stables safe!”

“What?” shouted Rail. “But this position will soon be overrun. You can’t hope to hold here!”

“Darf is in this one, and The Cloudracer is in this one!”

“Bah, the girl’s right!” said Aldor, planting his feet. “This is a terrible spot, but we left Darf and Jaffrine inside!”

“We can’t hold them on our own though,” growled Rail, tromping up beside Strevan.

An arrow took down one of the rangers with them. Sand just made out the open gates at the south wall. They’d finally cracked it, and who knew what all was inside now.

Tartara flew up and got in Rail’s face. “We won’t be on our own! Turim’s Wing here will help, right!”

Sand frowned. He didn’t like that she’d volunteered his men. Still, he defiantly ordered: “Set a ring around them. This is as good of a place to die as any!”

All of them fanned out, Aldor pushing the farthest, to the southern side of the stables. His pick dug in, slaying roving Dark Knights, and with some of the other knights, a black and a green dragon fell. His eyes burned with wrath, red as his beard with fury.

“Kir garak dol a'karo’kor!” came his dwarven battle cries. More than once the Dark Knights were dismayed at the sound of them and sought other foes.

Sand continued to hear the girl’s auto-crossbow ripping through dragons and Dark Knights, amidst the sound of longbows. Sinfa and Lala stayed with Strevan, Tartara, Rail, and the other rangers, though at times the enemy, like a wave coming across to divide a child’s sandcastle, separated them. But each time they were almost overtaken, the many Knights of the Hawk who continued to join the group in defense of the stables gave them aid.

The battlefield was as a violent storm, and though the Knights of the Hawk fought with all their courage and strength, the Dragon Army now threatened to blow them utterly away, tossed by a dark wind that would rush past, scouring through Daltaria. Knights of the Hawk fell many upon many, dying atop one another, piling around the positions they defended like raked leaves beneath the moonlight.

Again the golden horns rang dreadfully clear in the night, calling for a retreat deeper into the keep’s defenses.

“Go, go!” cried Sand.

“Archers make us space to break away!” shouted Rail.

Most of the defenders of the keep now began to fall back, all the way to the central tower. In the bedlam, they were separated. Soon Sand was amidst a wave of Dark Knights and Chromabacks, Knights of the Hawk and Shiningscales. It was all a swirl of chaos. He prayed that Turim’s companions would be okay.

Then he happened to look up to the east wall. And there, he spotted the blackest dragon come over the rampart and land in the courtyard to the north. It was Runamuck. And on his back was Gewurmarch Rottbone—tall, black, and perilous beyond compare.

Sand looked around to the others, to his Wing, a ways off toward Turim’s companions. “Do you see it!?” No one could hear him. He began to draw back. He wanted to go, but should he break from all his allies and pursue his most hated enemy?

“Stupid, Sand,” he thought. “But Turim wasn’t their friend—not like he was mine. If I’m dead tonight, what’s it matter?!”

He looked around again and now saw the chance he’d waited for. He barely made a decision, he just found himself doing it. He broke away, moving with as much haste as he could, running through the fray northward.

He could still see Gewurmarch Rottbone as he tore through many of the valiant Knights of the Hawk, Runamuck slaughtering just the same. Sand ran faster, crashing through foes with reckless abandon. He came closer. He cut through two more opponents. He could smell the foul death-stench coming from Runamuck and his acid-burned victims. Or was it from the hissing black blade in the Gewurmarch’s hand? He wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Onward he went those last few steps across the courtyard.

When he finally stood within a few feet of Runamuck, his heart thudded--full of anger and fear. But another vision entered his mind of Turim striking the ground, and that steeled him. He gathered himself for a blow, without further hesitation he struck out. His blade sung through the air and bit hard against black scale.

Runamuck roared as the sword stung against his leg, not deep, but sufficient to draw his attention. His eyes fell on Sand, green, burning pits of anger.

Sand saw the trickle of blood on the dragon’s rear leg. He smiled.

“You pestilent worm!” roared Runamuck. He reared his head back, puffing out his chest and extending his wings up, up, up into the night. “You will regret striking the heel and not running!”

A great shower of his dark acid—like a waterfall turned sideways—came quickly forth, splashing across the grass and stones of their path.

Sand had seen the black dragon’s head rear. He wouldn’t be caught off guard by a single Chromaback, whose terror he’d been warned of. He’d trained years to combat dragons. He sprang away to the right to avoid the acid and rounded around behind Runamuck’s right rear leg. Again, he struck a mighty blow, though the beast’s scales were thick. The acid had missed him, but he could hear its spray sizzling on the back of his armor and burning into the earth beneath where he stood.

His blade produced another small gash. Now Runamuck sprang into the air, beating his wings and whipping his tail in anger. The wind of it was so potent that Sand nearly toppled backward. He wouldn’t give. He braced himself for whatever would come next.

As the dragon rose, he held his blade with both hands, ready. He hadn’t forgotten why he’d come to challenge such an awesome foe. He raised his blade and stood defiant against the overwhelming size of the Gewurmarch and his dragon.

His wall broke; emotion flooded out. He was near tears with grief and hatred. “You killed him! You took my best friend’s life and I’m taking yours!”

Gewurmarch Rottbone pointed his blade at him. “Take mine?” he returned in a tone of mock surprise. “Best friend?” And then his voice grew deep, filled with an evil grit of hatred and malice. “Do you know how many thousands of ‘best friends’ I’ve ‘taken’ tonight? How many I’ve sent to the depths beneath the edge of the Black Blade, with twisted, horror-filled visages that glowered back at me as their bodies fell? I could satiate a hundred graveyards!”

His voice was what Sand thought evil itself sounded like. He shivered a moment, then swallowed, trying to bring himself to action.

A laugh rumbled from the darkness of Gewurmarch Rottbone’s helm. “And how can you possibly hope to take me? Do you know who I am? Will you achieve this from the belly of my friend Runamuck? You’re far too trivial and fragile to contest me, whose mind is strong and capable, and sharpened by all the knowledge of the great wide world. No, you cannot hope to defeat us here. Tonight the darkness is our ally, and soon your keep shall fall to it.

“But I weary of this converse. I’m not accustomed to such lengthy talks with fools. Now scream like never before!”

With a gathering lunge, Runamuck dove at Sand. His maw was a gaping chasm of death as his wings slapped to his armored sides. Sand felt a final shout well up in his dry throat. He swung his sword.

But Runamuck didn’t catch him in his teeth. Instead, another dragon’s claws struck Runamuck in the head. He roared as his skin split open.

Sand saw the flash of copper from the corner of his eye. Then he lost all air in his chest as he was grasped in Lasertooth’s claws. Several other dragons came behind. They struck Runamuck down as they swooped past, sending the black sprawling across the courtyard through a squad of Dark Knights. Earth and stone flew into the air, and the cries of many men rose before they were muffled and silenced by the flailing dragon as it tried to recover from each blow. After that, Runamuck lay unmoving.

Sand landed on his hands and knees. The feel of the stone and wind told him he was on the central tower. His chest hurt. A dragon’s claws can grip quite tight.

“What the—?” He stood up, shooting a look at Lasertooth. “This was my choice! You can’t take that from me! Don’t you want Turim’s death avenged?”

“Indeed I do, Lieutenant,” replied Lasertooth. “But even more, I have no desire to lose you to recklessness. You can’t hope to stand alone against Gewurmarch Rottbone and his black dragon. And if you believe you can, then you’re the foolish boy you’re acting like, and certainly not ready to lead our Wing as I thought!”

Sand clenched his jaw tight. He knew Lasertooth was right, as little as he wanted to admit it aloud. He growled in frustration. “I don’t want to be a knight without him here!”

“That decision is not one to make right now while you have others you’re responsible for,” rumbled Lasertooth.

“The Wing,” said Sand, pulling himself together. “Where are they?” He picked his sword up from where he’d dropped it. Another flare of pain shot through his side. “I think you broke a rib.”

He turned to look out over the sight that lay before him. The courtyards were filled with dragons and scurrying soldiers of either side. Bodies lay everywhere. Bloodshed was heavy and constant. On the east wall fought many dragons of either tribe, and the low skies above them were packed with them as they leapt. Moonlight cast their shadows down into the keep.

Something else caught his eye. Further, beyond the dragons, he saw a speck of light.

 “Did you see that?” asked Sand, looking to Lasertooth. “Beyond the enemy there?”

“I can’t make it out. But it’s not a star. It sits too low on the horizon.” But Lasertooth didn’t seem very concerned. He returned his attention to the courtyards. “Come now. It’s our chance. There’s no time for wonderment. Whatever it is, it approaches the ridge. It’ll be here soon enough.”

Sand scowled, but looked down to the keep. Gewurmarch Rottbone and Runamuck had fallen, but Runamuck had begun to roll to his feet. His head turned back and forth, as though searching for a worthy enemy. “He’s about to get one.”

Sand hesitated only a moment before climbing to the copper dragon’s shoulderplate and into his saddlemount with a clank. “I have to admit,” he said with a groan, “it’s nicer sitting behind a riding shield than standing in front of that black dragon with nothing but my blade.”

“You’re daft,” Lasertooth grunted. “I’m here as both your friend and ally. Do not ever do anything like that again, shirking your duties. We didn’t join you knights so you could throw your lives away.”

“Do you ever get tired of that? Don’t you want anything else?” asked Sand.

Lasertooth was about to spring from the crenellations but gave that a moment of consideration. “Your clerics believe we were created by The God to balance the scales of power. I don’t know if that’s true or not. Maybe that’s a memory I haven’t regained. But I do know that I want nothing more than to drive back the Chromabacks to the depths of their dark lairs. There are few things I desire more.”

Sand gave a grim smile and brushed his blue hair aside from his forehead, leaving behind a small streak of blood from the back of his gauntlet. It wasn’t his own.

“Well, let’s get back to it then.”

Lasertooth gathered himself and leapt from the tower, swooping low over the ground, just above the heads of those battling below. The air rushed past. Sand’s breath caught for a brief moment, but nowadays, what used to nearly make his insides flip, barely made him blink.

On the ground, several dragons launched above the battlefield for short periods, using their wings to glide. It was their way of avoiding crashes in the darkness. It mostly worked.

Lasertooth wove through them, avoiding as much conflict as possible. Dragons whisked past Sand’s vision on either side. So much death had cursed the skies that day that he felt numb and cold to it—more so than he’d ever been in all his life. “Turim was right, this is no simple skirmish,” he thought.

Runamuck wasn’t far off. His tail thrashed like a charmer’s snake, hammering several Knights of the Hawk and their squires into the ground.

 “Faster Lasertooth!” shouted Sand. “He’s right there!”

“Have some patience. We’ll be on him in just a moment.”

Sand gripped his sword, regretting that he’d left his lance on the landing field. Its reach would’ve made the job easier. He was going to have to rely a lot on Lasertooth. The pain in his ribs was an acute reminder of that.

Runamuck gathered and sprung, heading away. “Did they spot us?” Sand wondered. He didn’t think so. Judging by the few Knights of the Hawk who remained standing in the field below, he guessed the black dragon had simply run out of foes to destroy.

Runamuck ascended slowly above the courtyards, his dark shadow covering those below him as a silent specter. As he rose, a silver and a bronze leapt to engage them, one of them riderless. But Gewurmarch Rottbone slashed out, tearing through silver scale with his hissing blade. The bronze’s throat was torn by Runamuck and fell to the earth with a resounding crash.

Sand’s heart was on fire. Lasertooth was almost there. He was within breath shot at the very least. But Lasertooth couldn’t set a cloud of poison gas over Runamuck and Gewurmarch Rottbone yet—not at the speed they moved, and not until they came above or in front of them.

Sand pulled at the reigns, tugging at Lasertooth’s shoulders. Rise in altitude. He could tell his copper was already tiring after the short rest he’d taken on the landing fields. With a great effort, Lasertooth beat his wings several mighty flaps and rose above their prey.

“Now!” shouted Sand.

Lasertooth breathed deep, ready to push forth a cloud of poisoned gas.

But Sand’s eye caught a shape from its corner, streaking towards him like a poisoned dart.

A wyvern. Her speed was remarkable to behold; the kind of speed that makes one think so quick to react, that perception fails and mistakes are made.

“Gorelust!” cried the wyvern’s rider—a general by the wings of his helm.

Turning his head quickly, the copper dragon released his gas at the wyvern, Gorelust, instead of Runamuck. It was a swift judgment, and Sand hoped it had been correct. He held on tight.

Gorelust barreled through the poisonous cloud and slammed hard into Lasertooth, driving him to the ground. “You’ll die for that, copper!” she screamed with a cough.

Sand ducked into his riding shield as they struck the ground, rolling. There was a shower of earth and dust, and a twisting mass of wing, tail, and claw.

“I’m alright!” shouted Sand, realizing they were upright again.

It looked like the General had held on tight for the wrestling match as well because he stared back at him. The copper and the black wyvern were paces apart now.

“Kill him!” shouted the General.

Lasertooth didn’t hesitate. He dove toward Gorelust with a deep-throated roar. But as he did, Sand saw Runamuck and Gewurmarch Rottbone. They were almost on top of them, coming from their left.

“Lasertooth!” he shouted, yanking the reins.

All Sand could do was hold on again. Runamuck’s jaws were open, blood running from open wounds on his head. Sand smelled the black’s breath. Suddenly Lasertooth caught Runamuck’s arm and tore through black scaled flesh with a sickening sound like twisting bone and sinew.

“This has been your last mistake!” Runamuck roared in agony as he swung his rear legs toward Lasertooth, lashing with his claws. There was a wing-assisted tumble.

Gorelust joined the struggle and drove into Lasertooth again. “Let me taste your flesh, old one!”

The great monstrosities all ground into the courtyard as another wave of dirt showered across a group of battling Knights of the Hawk like a rain of stones. Sand saw his fellow knights crushed beneath the mass as they rolled over.

There was a snap of leather, or maybe a buckle, and Sand hit the ground hard. The air left his chest. He couldn’t move. He just lay there trying to recover his wit, looking skyward attempting to refocus his eyes on something, anything at all.

Runamuck and Gorelust rained wound after wound upon his already weary dragon. Lasertooth slammed down beside him.

“No!” He kept looking up, hoping for something to change the course of fate. The wall still crawled with a mass of dragons. Knights of the Hawk lay dead all around—folk he knew—and he saw Dark Knights approaching as they noticed him prone. He was an opportunity.

“Dishonourable pieces of—attacking a fallen foe?!” he thought desperately.

His breath caught. He saw the bright light again. Its brilliance came over the wall and down into the courtyard. And enemy dragons fell in front of it. “What is that thing?” His eyes were nearly blinded as looked at the glowing shape.

“I can’t be…”

It was Turim and Thunderclap! And there was a star in his friend’s hand, shining in the night.

They flew like a spearhead through the Black Division’s rearguard, right through the Chromabacks atop the wall, knocking dragons aside and down onto the barbs of the inner parapet.

Finally, Sand rolled to his knees. He didn’t move any further. His eyes were drawn to the light. His friend was alive! “It can’t be,” he thought again. “What in The God’s name? It can’t be!”