Page 64 of Cursed By the Dawn

Ahead of me, Somnus’s legionnaires did not so much as flinch.

His phantom legionnaires numbered one thousand—his very will come to life. They would not falter. My group of legionnaires, one hundred strong and flying just behind Somnus’s, were emboldened by their unwavering courage. My dreamers didn’t know Somnus’s warriors were mere apparitions; I didn’t have the heart to tell them.

Let them have courage. Let them have strength.

Maker, they’d need them.

Because if what happened back in our domain was any indication, a death by demon meant a death forever. I only hoped it also meant their soul immediately ascended to be with the Maker and was not trapped in the Beyond. The latter was an unimaginable fate, and one I couldn’t linger on.

Suddenly, through all seven channels, I sensed a few dreamers hesitating.

It was like a crack in the foundation of a fortress. I couldn’t allow it. Not now.

Desperately, I sent a collective message through to their minds, speaking to them directly as I’d done before.

“You are dreamers. You wield the impossible. You stand in the face of nightmares and do not yield. Do not fear the dark—it is ours to command. It is ours to become.”

I scrambled to think of something else that would rally them.

A quote, a story, a declaration.

I remembered the haunting melody sung by the Light Legion.Beware, the Shadow Bringer comes.I had felt alone, terribly alone, while I shivered by their fire on the way to the Tomb of the Devourer. It was a song meant to tell of the Shadow Bringer’s darkness, encouraging listeners to be unafraid. But nowwewere the shadows to be feared. And if we were the shadows—if we had waded in the darkness and emerged victorious—then we had no reason to fear the evil ahead. And it seemed only fittingto repurpose this song as a warning against thetrueenemies we faced.

Raelion and Mithras.

I urged the final words forth, screaming with a conviction they couldn’t deny.

“We fear not shadow nor the night!”

One voice answered, then another. Soon, the words spread like wildfire, roaring through our ranks.

“We fear not shadow nor the night! We fear not shadow nor the night!”

The chant became a war cry, surging forward as magic crackled in the air.

And then the battle began.

“Demons,” Somnus snarled, pulling his blade from its invisible sheath within his hair.

Demons were beginning to seep from Evernight, sliding down the vast embankment or leaping from its walls. They raced toward us, shrieking murderous screams. Hundreds of demons.

No.Thousands.

And the Nocturne slowly began to widen, welcoming them all.

The blood drained from my face. There were so many demons that the ground quaked. Demons of all shapes, sizes, and compositions; demons that walked, ran, flew, crawled. Demons that looked like salivating beasts. Demons that looked like half-rotten skeletons. Demons that looked vaguely human but in all the wrong ways. Some bore weapons, makeshift blades and axes. Others were prepared to fight using just their claws and teeth. It was difficult to see certain demons beyond Somnus’s army of legionnaires, as many appeared no larger than wolves or small cows. Other demons were the size of houses, shoulders so wide that they had to worm their way through the onslaught. None felt like Corrupt dreamers; they were all demons, through and through.

But there was one unifying feature that the demons shared, and it made me want to scream.

They all had red smoking eyes.

A cold, slithering presence crept up my spine, settling at the base of my neck as it whispered in my ears.

“Leave these maggots to their graves,” the voice demanded, making me shiver even as I recoiled in utter disgust.“Come join me. Come rule with me.”

I tried to shove the voice out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was a cold, invisible band around my neck, eager to see me squirm.

“If you would prefer to see the carnage yourself before taking my hand, you need only say so,” the voice cackled.“Fly higher, dreamer. The view is better from above.”