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The Boys

  The first sign came with billowing black clouds that tinged the mist ever-darker shades. It spread out, quickly rolling across the wastelands of Merigor, until, as far as the eye could see to the east, there was a seemingly endless black sea of shadows. The surface of this ebony peaked and sank, rippling like water, and, summoned from some faint memory, the shadows formed a massive body of water edged with reeds and sedges.

  The waters rose, as did the vegetation. Minute by minute, the sacred mound was surrounded by the shadows. It looked almost like the chaotic sea beyond the city of Merigor. If I touched it, what would happen? Nobody else ventured down to take a closer look. The sight alone overwhelmed us with a sense of foreboding.

  "Is it the sea?" Siraj asked Kaci behind me.

  "No," she said in hushed undertones. "This is a manifestation of the overlord, the Lord of Shadow. These are populated by his will."

  "The will of Mammon?"

  "Yes, but…" Kaci shifted a little and moved closer to my side. A slight wind shifted her red curls, and she squinted into the rising breeze. "There."

  I squinted toward the east. Wilsford Village was now mostly submerged beneath the dark waves. Sedge and reeds clustered about the buildings, and I caught sight of a flock of shadowy birds rise up, flying low over the water. Long necked with massive wings, they swooped low, scooping up phantom fish. A long scaled back rose and then a head, revealing a narrowed snout. A crocodile.

  "It's the… Nile?" Siraj wondered a loud.

  "That's… a good guess," Kaci said. "I can see that. Whoever Mammon inhabits had close ties to the Nile."

  My gaze rose to the distant horizon where a dark speck now raced toward us. Rising from the rippling shadow river, dark creatures rose. The ones that Siraj had called Mothman. Over them flew something that looked like a horse. I thought it was a horse with two people on it. However, as the monstrosity drew closer, I couldn't help but shiver.

  Great tattered shadow wings flexed powerfully over the broad flanks of a massive black horse. A sweeping tail of ebony fire flared behind it. My eyes ranged over the creature from its hoofs, clad in irons and spiked, to its flanks, covered in glinting spiked armor. And then upward… My brain stopped working.

  It was a centaur. Sort of. A grotesque Siamese twin centaur. Two young teens sprouted from the powerful body. Their pale skin was muddied with shifting shadows, and where their eyes had been, only pits of despair swirled. A faint glint from within, purple and slightly glowing, hinted at some otherworldly force within them. That and the scrawling marks, like moving tattoos, that glowed as they wound about their bodies. The markings were ancient. Nothing that I could recognize beyond the fact that they reminded me of hieroglyphs.

  As I surveyed the teens, I realized that they were younger than I'd thought. No more than fourteen, the both of them. Their dark curling hair hung lank about their necks. Streaks of muddied shadow crawled over rounded cheeks. There was an aquiline set to their noses, and an odd sallow paleness to their skin. In their thin hands, crossing emaciated ribs, they clung to ancient spears.

  "They're… only kids." My hoarse voice sounded like a stranger to my own ears.

  Behind us, one of the village crones wailed in a shrill voice, calling out something I could not comprehend. My hand withdrew my sword from its scabbard. Tension thrummed through me as I faced the worst challenge yet. I'd have to kill these two kids. Damn. And fuck.

  "The Thirteenth and the Fourteenth," Siraj said. His voice was threaded with some nameless emotion. "The Ptolemy brothers. The ones who suffered. The ones history forgot."

  "They died very young, didn't they?" Kaci noted softly.

  "The first one drowned. The second one… They don't know. Some people think he was poisoned."

  "Both of them abandoned by their sister," Kaci said. "In a sense, at least. They must have wandered here… and defenseless, they were taken."

  "Their sister?" I asked.

  "Cleopatra," Siraj said. "She had brothers. They… both died."

  "Huh."

  "People had a habit of dying around her," Siraj said, voice hard. "Either way, they have been reduced to corrupt ambition."

  "To Mammon," Kaci agreed. "Mammon, Max, is the Lord of Avarice: the insatiable desire for gain."

  "Including an empire?" I asked.

  "Including an empire," she replied softly.

  "That's not about to happen," I vowed even as my stomach roiled with nausea. "It sounds like these two kids have been through a lot. Time we put them to rest."

  As the Dark Elves raised up the hills of the besieged mound, a cloud of arrows rose and descended from the Roman unit. Some of the creatures fell back, vanishing into mist. Others continued doggedly upward to clash with the defenders. Shinobi, soldiers, sailors, and other nameless adventurers clashed with the shadowy creatures—blades and bows, spears and axes, staves and magic. Those who lost their footing tumbled down to disappear into the foaming black shadow, never to be seen again.

  Our group stuck together, battling back the first and second wave of Dark Elves. Some fell, but most were protected by Kaci, and the few of us who were injured, received enough medical attention to hobble back into the relative security of the henge. This was an ancient sacred mound, Kaci said, but it could fall like many others had. It would be broken, she said, and the sanctuary could be defiled.

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  That wasn't about to happen. I hoped.

  Instead, I focused on each creature that swarmed up toward us. Between Siraj, myself, and the our trusty comrades, we managed to hold our ground. This, unfortunately, drew the attention of the Lord of Avarice. Mammon. With an eerie ululation, the Ptolemy twins swooped down, spears raised. They threw the first spears, both cracking apart as they hit a green shield suddenly lifted by Kaci. Then, spears of shadow formed once again. Several Romans raced to join us, closing their shields about to create a barricade against the next battering force of spears. Two men fell back with a grunt as the shadow spear pierced metal and leather.

  Whipping his bow up and rising a little, Siraj took aim, whispered something under his breath, and then released the arrow. As if imbued with unnatural light, the arrow glowed. It leaped forward, striking close to the belly of the centaur and grazing against the barest hint of skin between the centaur's armor plating. With another ghastly scream, Mammon threw himself into a gallop. Spears reformed, but even as the horse's hoofs struck the grass, green lashing light swirled out to grasp at Mammon in an attempt to pin him down.

  Three more men fell to the puncturing spears even as Mammon screeched and wailed in ancient tongue. Three priests and Kaci now stood back against the second ring of megaliths, chanting. Staves raised, green and white light swirled about. Above them, the cloudy heavens parted and shafts of light struck down, blasting every bit of darkness back.

  Taking this chance, I lunged forward. Darting underneath a whirling spear, I flipped my sword, the butt of the hilt into my palm and stabbed at the crux where the front shoulder met the elbow. There was enough spacing for me to drive the sword in. Overhead, the boy cursed. A spear materialized and slammed down, barely missing my shoulder and back. Whickering sounds whizzed over my head. Siraj's arrow followed by another in rapid fire.

  In my head, disjointed thoughts swarmed. Don't pull glass out after getting impaled. You will bleed more. No. I realized. No. Pull it out. Pull it out. Holding onto the hilt as Mammon attempted to fly upward, I pulled the sword. Black ichor spewed out, gushing onto my hands and face. I sputtered and staggered back. At the same time, Mammon fell forward. More green tendrils had shot upward, jerking the monstrosity off balance. It was enough for a Roman soldier to follow up with another thrust on the other side. Two British soldiers, cussing up a storm, hacked at the horse legs, breaking the mail off and allowing them to finally expose the shining black flesh to their blades.

  Hobbled and then disabled, the twins could now barely move, but they proved fairly deadly with their spears. Men fell beneath their rabid, swift strikes. If it weren't for Kaci and Siraj, not to mention the sturdier Roman shields, I would have joined them. Thankfully, a handful of us managed to continue our assault on the overlord. My blade managed to hack at weaker buckles, removing a piece of the side plate armor. My blade sunk into the centaur's heart, but the spirit within howled with rage in return, undeterred. The souls of the boys emitted anguished wails.

  Gritting my teeth, I continued the assault. As the beast crumpled to its knees, I gained enough height advantage to hack off the smaller boy's arm. The spear vanished.

  "Finish him off!" Kaci shrieked at me.

  My blade wavered as the dark pits met mine. I could see him as he once had been. Before he had been forced to flee Alexandria. Somehow I knew it. I could see it—a young teen, fleeing the battleground he'd lost. The sister-wife he had relied on had crossed to the other side and lay in the arms of a foreign man. He was crossing the Nile. He never reached the other side.

  Black blood dribbled out of the boy's mouth. The black lips widened and more and more ichor gushed out as if a dark corruption within him was emptying. From his thin chest, a wide blade thrust through. I gazed across the beast disjointedly, realizing that an unknown warrior had joined us.

  "Take the second one," the redheaded warrior barked at me. "It is a mercy. I'll deal with the others."

  Letting him deal with the final rush of Dark Elves that swarmed to save their lord, I turned back to the final Ptolemy who cradled his brother. It's for the best, I wanted to say. Stupid. He was dead. Nothing I could say would make it better. His dark eyes met mine. There was a story there of a young king. Placed on the throne when he was twelve. Dead by fifteen. He whispered something.

  Growling, I swung my blade, sliced through him, and took off his head. Even as my blade continued its arc, it passed through shadow. Shadow and granular ebony mist that whirled away. Without a sound, the spirits of the boys faded, but the spirit of Mammon swirled about with a rumbling howl only to dissipate under a combined attack of white light.

  Standing silently, I watched the grey dust of the souls spin off into the light breeze. At my elbow, Siraj stood panting. He didn't move either, allowing others to swirl about us as they moved forward to join the side of the newly arrived warrior.

  "He said something." I said after a moment.

  "'We were born to be kings'," he replied simply, tossed his bow down, and stalked off.

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