The Battle of Quath

Upon that betrayal, two opposing camps formed, and families of all classes were forced to choose a side. The North, centered in Estelm was ruled by Valda, the Sower of the Void and Seventh Empress of Kiris. The rebellion, formed on the back of a betrayal and family skirmish, was led by Valda’s son and heir, Zayl.

The final battle of the war was fought in central Kiris, outside the walled city of Quath. Early in the morning on the first light of Autumn, Zayl’s forces lead a charge across the plains just outside the walled city. Valda’s Imperial Guard was caught off-guard, forcing a retreat to the walls of Quath.

It was there that Valda appeared, floating high above the city walls, staff in hand. Valda looked towards the horizon, her eyes seeing more than any other human. In the distance floated another figure, clothed in his silver cloak and wearing his hideous war mask. Despite gravity, his hair tied at several points, formed what looked like a fire and a crown. In his hand rested his gray staff. 

The Rise and Fall of Valda, 7th Empress of Kiris Ch. 23 by Holdic Bardmi

730 Years Ago

Valda

The Second War of Kiris began as most wars do, a betrayal.

For a year, people throughout the continent had sacrificed and suffered from the brutal fights that broke out. It was early on the crisp, first morning of Autumn that Valda waited deep within the walled city of Quath. Down in the halls of the grand city’s libraries, Valda sat studying the tomes of the first empires. Her research had brought her to the very brink of reality, studying the fabric of space and matter, but thus far nothing had given her the answers.

She sat, her mess of black, wavy curls held back by a piece of string. Her eyes, abnormally red, glinted in the crude white light of her Void Orb. 

These scholars and ancient philosophers uncovered so much, yet left so much unwritten.

She had gathered every scrap of information she could gather on the ancient empires. They had stood for eons while the world grew. But they broke just like their world was now. 

She continued to slowly turn the pages of the sixty-seventh tome she had pulled. The ink had faded after so long, but the core topics were still decipherable. This book recounted the political structure of an empire some 400 years prior. She skimmed through each page, enjoying the kinkle that came from turning the page. The book was written well and went into detail on its myriad of topics, but failed to give her what she needed. 

Valda had one specific topic that needed study: why does the Phoenix of the Void exist? 

And as the Phoenix Empress of the largest empire on the continent, it was an important question. For despite her grand powers and command of battle, knew little of the role she was to play. 

“I know what I set out to do, but this doesn’t feel right…what part of the Gray Tree’s plan involves fighting my own son?” She had not taken her son Zayl’s betrayal well; her wrath had nearly killed the High Council. And his continued attacks and rebellion had driven fear and doubt into her rule. “Enough people question me. My own son betraying me does nothing to help steady my rule,” she said, with a controlled aggression. Her research had been long and fruitless. No one had ever encountered the Gray Tree besides her, and apparently her son. No one knew precisely what the Phoenix was. 

Zayl had gathered followers in the south, and broken off from her empire, to form a puppet state, the Kingdom of Nyr. 

His betrayal had broken her heart and shaken the foundations of all she had accomplished in her long tenure as the Empress of Kiris. Flipping through the stained pages of her tome, a distant echo of shouts came through her door. 

Valda continued her studies and paid no mind to the noises, she was desperate to find the deeper meanings of the Void and the World Tree, and hopefully, a way to end this juvenile conflict peacefully. She hastily closed the tome she had been reading, and rose to research the next line of shelves, the orb she had been given followed her movement to light the way. She slowly walked down the shelf, finger scanning the dusty, ancient spines when there came a sharp rap on the old wooden door. Not stopping to draw her attention away she responded, “What is it?”

A young woman in shining armor hastily opened the creaking door and knelt. 

“Madam Empress, I’m sorry to disturb your research, but The Nyrian forces have arrived at first light! The Imperial Guard has surrounded the city, but your frontline armies have been pushed back against the city walls.” Her breaths came hard and fast, wavering.

Valda’s eyes turned to the young soldier. She kept her demeanor calm, while the dread and sorrow tore through her soul. He’s here… Valda studied the young soldier, she’s trying to be respectful, but sprinted here, she thought. 

“Has there been any sign of Zayl?” Valda asked, she kept her eyes on the young soldier. 

“Yes, Your Eminence! That is why my commander sent me to inform you of their arrival!” her breath slowed but was still short, “he currently floats in the sky, behind his army lines. When I was beyond the wall, he had yet to approach the city.”

This girl was outside the city walls, Valda noted. That’s not an easy run in full armor. 

“What’s your name, soldier?” Valda asked. 

“Pressia, Your Eminence,” she replied. 

“I want to thank you for completing your task, Pressia. Return to your commanding officer, and tell him that I will arrive shortly,” Valda said. 

“Yes, Your Eminence!” She shouted, rising to hurry out the door and down the corridors. 

“I would say that it’s time, my son,” Valda said to herself, “I never wanted it to come to this.”

She paused, closing her eyes, letting the wave of emotions roll through. She embraced the rise of battle within, letting it consume her, calm her. She opened her eyes and stared down the corridor. 

“But you have forced my hand.” 

Valda took a deep, steadying breath as she prepared for what she knew would come next. She had faced this decision in her meditations for months since Zayl’s rebellion. She reached through her gateway, into the Void and felt the warmth of the Tree. Manifesting the 9 Majestic Spheres to surround her, Valda rose into the sky above her army. The morning sun gleaming off her polished armor. Valda opened her gateway, feeling the power flow through her body, the warmth of the Gray Tree bringing a trance-like calm. Holding out her right hand, her Void channels glowed with power. From within the Void she called upon its energy to summon 9 silver-gray spheres coated in red and golden flames. She slowly lifted her arm towards her face, manifesting her war mask. Firming herself, and adorning her newly summoned mask, she looked onwards towards the future. Onwards to face her son one final time. 

Bloodshed covered the valley as the two battled. The Hero of the world fought against their heir and mortal enemy. Valda’s powerful staff whirled as mountains moved and rivers raged. Valda’s power shook the soul of every mortal battling below. Zayl wielded a power similar to Valda’s. Despite his younger age, Zayl was dedicated and powerful. He had made advancements in his skill that had taken Valda generations to achieve. He did, however, find ways to bypass such intense training at times. His wicked nature and cunning mind made him ever more a threat to the Kiris Empire. 

The battlefield was silent once she appeared. Both her imperial guard and Zayl’s Nyrian soldiers gaze towards the sky in awe. The two most powerful beings in the world floated in the sky as the gods must have before. 

Valda called out, “Zayl, my son! This strife accomplishes nothing but death and pain. I know we see the world differently, but we can come together, to end this bloodshed and discuss our views like civilized people!” Anger flared in her eyes as she surveyed the ground, hundreds lay lifeless below. 

“I disagree, Joarya. Or Valda, whatever name you go by now,” his tone was cold. “You are the thing wrong with the world! Someone like you shouldn’t be given so much power! You’ve subjugated millions under your rule and have let chaos reign in the far off lands. You failed to keep order with your petty diplomacy and you failed to keep our people pure! Look what has become of the once mighty Kirian Empire!”

“You truly despise those without magic that much, Zayl?” Dread continued to rise within but was met with a steeled resolve to keep her composure. 

“They are a curse upon our world mother. Why would the Void abandon them? Not even the Great Tree reaches out to warm their hearts! Without them our world would flourish!” 

“I’m sorry you have come to that conclusion. I have failed you, Zayl. And I’m sorry it has come to this, my son.” 

Valda reached out with her left hand, and manifested a single shaft of gray Void Form. 

“I have always loved you, I hope you know that.”

Zayl lifted a staff of his own and pointed it towards his mother. 

“And you certainly know how to show it.”

The world was shaken by the first of their clashes. The soldiers below fell to their knees as the continent itself vibrated from their power. Valda’s staff came down in a flurry of blows, Zayl parrying with swift movements of his own staff. The staves, made from the Form of the Ancient Tree would never break, never splinter.

Valda’s mighty presence shook the world as she rose high into the air. As Zayl flew to meet her, Valda opened a gateway and called upon bars of solid Void Form. Summoned from the Void, the bars flew at Zayl, distorting the surrounding matter. Unfazed, Zayl opened a Void Portal and with a last-second dodge, sent Valda’s attack back to the Void. His moment of relief was short as Valda’s staff reverberated off his mask, sending him flying. Even a momentary distraction against Valda could mean certain death. 

Zayl opened another portal and let himself be consumed by it. Valda searched around the area. No sign of Zayl… Closing her eyes, she opened herself to the Void and waited. 

...A portal...There! Sensing Zayl’s portal beneath her, she fashioned the end of her staff into a blade and launched it towards the split in reality. Her spear’s shockwave booming with a thunderous roar from the power behind it. 

Zayl launched himself from his portal shield first, anticipating the attack. The spear struck his shield with an echoing crash, the vibrations shook him to his core. The spear throw was overwhelming, and despite his own momentum, he was pushed back towards his portal. 

Entering the Void without intention meant certain death. 

With the portal closing, he turned his shield enough to let it slip past him. He flicked out his hand and grasped the handle, burning his hand as it was not his creation. He smirked, knowing Valda’s attachment to this spear… he felt the lurch as he was summoned from the gateway, pulled back into the world of matter hanging on to the poisonous spear. Once he escaped, his grip gave out as the pain became too great and the spear returned to Valda. 

Looking towards Valda, there was not a single scratch upon her. Her power was staggering.

Zayl righted himself and stared down his enemy, he was not one to give up. I am greater than this! I will not lose!

Contingency then! he thought and gave the signal. Summoning a large sphere of Void Form, he fired it into the sky. The explosion cleared the surrounding clouds.

Valda’s attention shifted towards the clearing sky, anticipating some cascading attack from above. She scanned the skies. A glow began to emanate from below her. 

With the roar of thousands, a massive wave of offensive magics were launched towards the sky, at our Hero. 

Valda shifted, looked down, overwhelmed by the sheer power hurtling towards the sky. She opened her gateway as wide as possible, her channels burning white-hot, pulling everything she could in that brief moment. Throwing her hands wide she scattered thousands of small spheres of Void Form, nullifying the most powerful attacks. She targeted the streams of fire, the torrenting water, the blinding lights of energy and lightning, and the blasting winds. But it wasn’t enough to stop the breadth of magic. And in a single explosion, the surviving magics collided. The armies below deafened and blinded by the explosion. 

The rising sun cast its golden light across the red-stained plain. As the light cast itself into the sky, it refracted through the magic creating a beautiful array of colors. 

The shadow of Valda became visible as the haze dissipated. Heavily damaged, but not defeated. Valda grasped her mask, holding it steady, a large chunk had been blown away from a piece of Earth Form she had been unable to stop. With a hurried thought she assessed the damage. Not much beyond scrapes and a few broken bones... 

A crack echoed through the silence as a portal ripped through reality behind Valda. Zayl emerged from within, sword in hand. Valda turned, but was too late. With a ferocious roar, he struck a fatal blow. “Victory is mine,” Zayl exclaimed. 

All that was a distraction! She thought, as the poisonous blade burned through her body. In one final effort to stave off utter disaster, she channeled as much Void Energy as she could, and thrust the collective mass of Form towards Zayl. In spite of all his plans, Zayl had not foreseen a swift counter attack. Another explosion of magic pierced through the sky, darkening the sun for many on the battlefield. A massive gray sphere spewed from Valda, space itself warping from the sphere’s gravity. Zayl, unable to react, was consumed by the Form.

My poor child, Valda thought, losing consciousness. 

The sphere pulsed as it met resistance. It shuddered and was thrust towards the unsuspecting soldiers below. 

In a single voice, thousands cried out as death itself consumed them. The raging Sphere collided with the ground, erupting rock and sediment. Digging into the Earth the ground swelled and broke spewing forth magma from the depths of the continent. The entirety of Quath rose towards the sky. 

With its channeled energy spent, the sphere collapsed into itself. The sudden vacuum dragged the living and the dead into the crater and buried them together. In an instant, death had taken all but a lucky few, indiscriminate of sides or beliefs. Thousands were slaughtered.

For those that remained, grief and death were all they knew. 

Valda fell into the column of rising magma, and was consumed by its heat.

Valda crawled from within the center of the crater, her channels glowing a marbled, burning red. She had not used her birth manifestation in some time. 

The wound left by Zayl's blade still burned. She achingly rose to her knees and witnessed the devastation that surrounded her. 

Tears fell from her eyes, evaporating from the heat, as she took in the sheer silence. A strong wind began blowing through the new valley, bringing ash with it. Blackness began to cover the world as it fell from the sky. Ash and soil burying everything. The world had been torn asunder. 

"What… have I done?" Valda cried. 

Yes, what have you done? came another voice from within, ripe with anger.