alien feeling overcoming them as all magic was temporarily denied from their bodies. As the wave passed, Qurrah approached, for he could see how little strength they had left to fight him.
“Why?” Tarlak asked as he neared. “What honor is in this? What justice? What reason?”
“No honor,” Qurrah said, washing another wave of counter-magic over them. “No justice. Punishment for a city that banished me. Vengeance against those who sought to kill me. Retribution against those who turned my brother against me. That is what I bring.”
Harruq stepped in front of the gateway. He leaned against the side as if his legs could barely support him. He looked groggy and dazed, as if he had just awaken from a sleep.
“No one turned me against you,” he said to his brother. “You did that yourself. You’re a slave of Karak now, nothing more.”
Qurrah laughed. He spread his arms wide, clutching his bone staff with one hand. It seemed the entire wall shook with his laughter.
“I am no slave!” he said. “And I am no servant! Do you know what I am, brother? Do you know?”
Harruq watched as Qurrah’s eyes flared red, first once, then twice. It was like watching the first gentle flames of a fire kindling. Harruq knew those eyes. He knew that glow.
“I am Karak’s left hand,” Qurrah said, his hissing voice washed over by a deep, rumbling sound of foreign power. “I am his fire, and I will burn everything I touch.”
His eyes shone a fierce red, glowing even in the morning light. Running down scars underneath his eyes were constant streams of blood that burned aflame, like the tears of a demon.
Aurelia unleashed a barrage of lightning, but Qurrah caught its power with one hand, collected it in a ball inside his fist, and then hurled it back. She screamed in pain as the last of her magical wards broke. She flew back, badly burned. Her thin form crumpled in the street. Sergan’s soldiers swarmed over her, their shields raised to protect her from any more harm. Furious at the sight, Tarlak tried to cast a spell of fire, but a flash of red from the skull’s eyes blinded him and scrambled his thoughts. Before he could resume, bone pieces slammed against his forehead and neck, beating him back.
Only Harruq stood against him. Qurrah looked at his brother with eyes that were not his own.
“You did not kill me when you had the chance,” he said. “Somewhere within you is the desire to stand at my side. Join me. Velixar dreamt of you leading his armies. It is not too late.”
Salvation and Condemnation shook in Harruq’s hands. Sadness and rage whirled inside him, greater than Qurrah would ever know.
“You believe no one can change,” Harruq said. “But you’re wrong. You know nothing of me. Be gone from my home.”
He slammed his swords into the sides of the gate. Stone shattered and broke. He struck the left wall with both his blades. The foundation shook.
“Die in darkness, brother,” Qurrah said, a beam of black magic shooting from his right hand. Harruq screamed, his rage inside burning. He crossed his arms and let the blow hit. He felt the magic strike his skin but he did not care. He would not succumb to it. He would not fall, even if all the world came crashing down on his shoulders. White lightning crackled from his weapons. Qurrah saw him resisting. He poured all his strength into his spell. Harruq’s entire body shook, and Qurrah thought him ready to fall, ready to die, but he was wrong.
“I am not the weaker!” Harruq screamed. He pushed back the magic. His arms flung wide, and inside the gateway a sound like thunder shook the Tun brothers. Salvation and Condemnation struck the stone walls at either side, and through the stone a shockwave rumbled, blasting away its foundations. The evil spell flew back from Harruq and assaulted Qurrah. He felt the pain sweep across his body. The force of it knocked him back, and he flew through the air as the gateway crumbled in on itself. When he hit the ground his body writhed in pain, from both the spell and the fall, but Qurrah’s thoughts were far away. All he could focus on was how in those last few moments Harruq’s eyes had shimmered gold.
H arruq!” Tarlak screamed as the gateway collapsed. Dust billowed everywhere, and he closed his eyes against the sting. As it settled, he saw Harruq standing before the rubble, his swords held at his sides. His entire body was lifting and falling with his breathing. Every muscle was taut. He looked like a paragon of strength, and Tarlak was awed by the sight of it. When Harruq sheathed his swords and turned, the image vanished.
“Where’s Aurelia?” Harruq asked. He noticed the look Tarlak was giving him but misunderstood its meaning. “Where is she?” he demanded.
“She’s here, lad,” Sergan said, pushing aside the soldiers that still guarded her with their shields. “A little burned, but she’s breathing.”
Harruq rushed over and took her into his arms. Her dress was blackened across the front, and ugly burns marred her chest. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was soft and constant. As he brushed the side of her face with his fingers, Tarlak cast a spell across the rubble, covering it with a thin sheet of ice.
“Let’s see you climb up that,” he said. He took off his hat and reached inside, frowning as he did. He had stashed a wide assortment of potions in his mad dash through his tower, but wasn’t sure of how many. Four? Five? More? From within his hat he pulled out a single healing potion and sighed.
“Good enough,” he said. He knelt beside Harruq and offered it to him.
“Thanks,” the half-orc said. He twisted off the cork and gently tilted it against Aurelia’s lower lip. At first she coughed, but Harruq was persistent. He covered her mouth with his hand, and when her coughing died she swallowed the rest on instinct. The burns on her chest lost their angry red. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Where…is he still here?” she asked.
“Qurrah’s outside,” Harruq said. “I sent him away.”
“Good,” Aurelia said, closing her eyes and leaning against his chest. “I’ll sleep here for awhile then.”
Sergan placed his soldiers in front of the crumbled gateway in case any orcs tried to climb over. This done, he hefted his axe onto his shoulder and stood beside the Eschaton.
“So what now?” the old veteran asked.
“Rest,” Tarlak said. “You won’t get many chances. Hop atop the wall and see how the other gate fares.”
Sergan motioned for one of his men to climb atop and see. When the man returned, he looked baffled.
“It looks like a web is covering the entrance, sir,” the soldier said. “It’s white and it glows. Damned if I know what it is.”
“Some sort of magic protecting the entrance,” Tarlak said. “Consider it good. Keep your men sharp, and be ready for anything. Who knows what Qurrah and his minions might do to enter.”
Sergan moved away, leaving the Eschaton by themselves. As Aurelia rested, the mage scratched his head and looked at the half-orc.
“Do you know what you just did back there?” he asked.
“Aye,” Harruq said. “I did something I don’t understand. Clear enough for you?”
“Not even close. You toppled the wall with your swords alone. We both know, enchanted or not, your swords don’t possess that strength.”
“What are you saying, Tar?”
Tarlak plopped down beside them. “I’m saying I have no clue what I just saw, Harruq, but it scared me to death.”
“Yeah,” Harruq said, looking down at Aurelia so he didn’t have to face Tarlak’s inquisitive gaze. “To tell you the truth, it scared me too. But I knew what I was doing. I just knew. And for one moment there, just one moment, everything felt right.”
Tarlak paused, a strange worry churning in his gut. “We have to get to the center,” he said.
“What? Why?” Harruq asked.
“Trust me on this, alright? We need to go!”
The half-orc lifted Aurelia into his arms and nodded. “Lead on.”
They left Sergan to guard the remains of the gateway as they hurried north.
Q urrah returned to Velixar with his head hung low. Another dark paladin had offered him a ride back, which he took ungratefully. When he dismounted he knelt before Velixar and offered his apologies.
“I failed you, my master,” he said. “The southern gate is sealed off with rubble. My brother defeated me.”
“Stand, Qurrah, it is no matter.” Velixar gestured to the white shield summoned by the priests of Ashhur. “Do you know what you see? A last desperate measure by a dying city. The wall is broken, the way into the city clear. It
