Book One – Chapter 13

Someone heeded his call. Instead of an orich, it was the runt who appeared above him. Of all the orks, it had to be Nagrak — the most useless of them all, clad in his laughably inadequate leather jerkin adorned with all the precious magical stones the orichs had so vehemently insisted upon, stones that had been nothing but a complete waste of resources on him. Yet, there he was, nervously bending over Balthagar, his jittering hands flailing about, but doing nothing. The coward. The only one not fighting. The only one who might survive.

Balthagar struggled to point out the Speran ember to him. His arm would not bend, his trembling hand could not reach up, and his voice faltered. But the runt seemed to understand. He reached for the talisman embedded in Balthagar’s skull, where it had been for over a decade, and attempted to pry it free with a piece of shattered bone. Instead, a sizable fragment of skull came loose with the ember still attached; Balthagar’s skull was already broken, the ember’s bond far stronger than whatever still held his head together.

Balthagar needed to speak, to urge Nagrak to take it to Matalyr, his second eldest daughter, who would know its significance. No one else must know. He tried to beckon the runt closer, but Nagrak’s gaze shot upward, panic flickering in his eyes, and with a sudden jerk, he flinched away.

Something massive shot through the blinding storm. A monstrous avian beast tore through the snow-laden sky, its piercing screech cutting through the howling wind like a blade. Its wings spanned wider than Balthagar could comprehend, throwing the battlefield into chaos with each powerful stroke. The terrifying beast descended toward them, talons outstretched.

It was the last image burned into Balthagar’s mind before a colossal boulder of ice came crashing down upon him. The impact was swift and brutal. In that final moment, as darkness enveloped Balthagar, all that remained was the echo of the brave orks’ dying roars and the agonising realisation that he had entrusted the most sacred of legacies to the most unworthy among them.

For all but the observing darkness, the boulder had come seemingly out of nowhere.