With a horrible wet sound, the hand of the Colossus ripped free from its arm, landing in a heap in front of Cole. The grisly sight froze him with morbid curiosity as a sickening concept struck him in the gut. Countless chosen, all Underkin, made up the body of the Colossus. The more he looked the more he saw. Making up the palm of the hand were dozens of raw torsos, while its fingers were twisted braids of burnt arms, ending in claws made from thousands of fingers sharpened to the bone. Cole could see crispy ribs jerking in and out, drawing ragged breaths through whatever hole they were breathing from. The huge fingers groped at the open air, yearning for anything to come within their grasp. Worst of all was the stench. The burnt flesh reeked of unwholesome rot and excrement; the breath of a thousand corpses.
A second later there was a muffled scream that Cole recognized from Costas. It was the fatal scream of one greeting death. It came from somewhere around the belly of the Colossus, followed by a sudden quiet. The hand in front of Cole disintegrated into a loose pile of unmoving body parts. Other segments fell around Cole, legs at first, then a torrent of limbs and whole corpses. Throwing an arm above him, Cole chanced a glance at Roth, but he was no longer visible in the steady hail of meat. The entire Colossus was coming undone. Cole’s munisica rushed out, digging into the dirt as he kicked his way to safety. He felt a flutter of relief as Goran came trotting around the collapsing mountain, his ruby eyes scanning for threats among the building rubble. When the final pieces fell Cole ran to the base of the pile, heaving bodies out of the way. Roth was still nowhere to be found.
Frustration rising with his panic, Cole tried using Wisdom to move some of the bodies, but he could only manage to levitate one at a time.
“Dammit Roth! Where the hell are you?” Cole bellowed, committing more of himself to his Rage. His munisica stretched and his obsidian shroud crawled farther up his arms. As the strength surged, so did his need for action. The tiny bodies of the Underkin flew behind him as he dug into the pile. Somewhere in the back of Cole’s mind he could hear Lexy’s unbridled laughter and see her dancing in the starlight. He did not want to find her. His only consolation was that her body would likely be immolated beyond all recognition.
The pile gave a sudden lurch as Cole heard a familiar growl from its center. Holding his breath, Cole turned his head and listened again. Eyes snapping wide, he leapt backward as a portion of the mountain exploded, creating a hail of limp Underkin. Roth crawled out of the crevice with the head of an Aenerian woman in his clawed hand. Cole hoped the sheen of crimson on his skin was only a trick of the moonlight, but as Roth approached, the severity of his wounds became apparent. Where his shroud had not protected him, deep gouges and wide swaths of skin were rent like torn paper. An alarming amount of blood poured freely from the injuries, soaking the dusty ground at his feet.
“Here,” Roth grunted as he threw the severed head at Cole’s feet. “Next time you better do more than stand there and piss yourself.”
Cole peered around Roth, taking in the dark hillock of Underkin behind him. At the core of the pile was the nest of black bones, woven in an unforgiving pattern of spikes and blades.
“Master Roth,” Cole said, his voice shaking with worry as he watched the pool at Roth’s feet grow. “Let me heal you. You’re losing a lot of blood.”
Roth held Cole in a glare. Whether his voice was quiet with deadly Rage or fatal injuries Cole couldn’t tell. “I don’t remember begging for your sympathies. I only ask that you do your job. Now go. There are three more to take care of. Go before Goran makes it to the next one.”
Cole glanced around. Goran had already set off. He swallowed his shame and shot after the mirak. Roth was one of the most powerful Aenerians on the planet, but even he couldn’t survive injuries like that for very long. Perhaps he knew he was too far gone and sent Cole away so he wouldn’t watch him die. It would be his fault if Roth bled out. He should have done what he was told, but his Fear had held him back. He was still afraid to loose the entirety of his Rage. It felt like letting a rabid dog off the leash with children around. While fully shrouded he’d almost killed his friends back in Costas, and had nearly violated a soul fly. Even when Milette had attacked him back at King Auger’s he’d had to extinguish his Rage immediately so it wouldn’t consume him. He was afraid of his Rage, but what scared him most wasn’t the thought of hurting his friends. He was scared of how much he liked it.
Shuddering at the thought, Cole ground his teeth and dug in with his munisica, accelerating far beyond his normal speed. He let the Rage boil. Closing the gap to the next Colossus, he saw Goran already at its feet. Cole veered off to the left, away from Goran towards a larger Colossus that the unit had yet to engage. If he were to lose control then he’d rather do it away from others. Goran would have to handle himself. Before his Rage could block it, he opened his heart and thoughts to Eliza, letting his Passion flow.
His Rage surged through the Passion link. “Friend of my heart, I’m headed for the largest Colossus. Do you see me?”
Eliza shifted her mood to a tone that soothed Cole. “I see you. I’m right above, brother of my soul.”
“No!” Cole pleaded. “You have to stay away. Keep the others away as well. I’m going to let the Rage take me. All of me.”
Her compassion washed over him like dancing autumn leaves. “I understand. I will do as you ask, but is it the only way?”
Cole strummed the link with his guilt. “It is…I’m sorry.”
“Do not feel sorry for me,” Eliza replied with a melody of hardened steel. “You will have to live with whatever happens. I will be there when you emerge from the other side.”
“Thank you. Roth is hurt bad. Real bad.” Cole impressed his urgency into every syllable.
A shadow fell over Eliza’s heart. “I felt him tearing himself apart to get to the priest. I will do what I can for the Bonebreaker. Now, go do what you can for that abomination. Goodbye, Cole.”
Cole felt her leave his mind entirely, severing the link. The abrupt silence was unnerving. He had always had some ambient thought or trickling emotion coming from either her or Goran. Now all he could hear was his steady breath and the rapid crunching of his munisica stabbing into the hard-pack. The shroud had nearly reached his abdomen, his Rage roiling into an inferno that fueled his every movement and desire. He was running faster than he had ever run in his life, yet he accelerated even more as his Rage broke free of its chains. Cole was dimly aware of his Morthainian armor coming apart at the seams, tearing and breaking in between his thighs and the gaps of his armpits. The force and friction were too great. His body was now beyond the limits of the physical. He was Rage.
Free of its prison, the red magic rushed up out of Cole, greeting the world with fire and fury. Cole looked at the scene before him in a new light. A savage lens revealed to him the bountiful opportunities for physical destruction, the utter dominance of his environment. He had real enemies, real outlets, and the biggest of the lot was right in front of him.
The mental calculation took but a flicker of thought. Cole slowed himself and planted his munisica, shooting straight for the titan’s head. Dusty wind whistled through his bladed hair as he stretched his arms in front of him. The target couldn’t come soon enough. The lumbering Colossus was entirely unaware of Cole as he tore through the air like a shrouded spear. A few of the titan’s eyes seemed to register his approach, but the vast majority lolled about, weak and useless. Cole let out a snarling grin. This was going to be too easy. He broke into the titan’s head, barely halfway through when he knew he was moving too fast. Cole spread his arms, slowing himself with the mass around him. He emerged from the other side amongst a rotten mist. It seemed to take a lifetime for him to reach the ground, his Rage igniting every part of his soul as he descended, revealing the next target to him.
As Cole landed, he twisted in the dirt and shot towards the Colossus once more, this time aiming for a leg. He dove through the limb, this time slowed by a core of woven bone that was th
e giant’s femur. The bone slowed him, but Cole smashed his way through, eager for more. The giant’s leg exploded around him, releasing him back into the desert. Cole landed, this time darting away from the Colossus so he could see his work. He allowed himself a moment to indulge in the weakness of his enemy. The Colossus teetered like a hacked tree, not yet aware of its severed leg as its hands flew towards the remains of its head. The titan’s girth met the ground with a shuddering report, staggering the two smaller Colossus.
Cole’s Rage grew, and so did his desire. The violence was simple and beautiful, but he only just had a taste. He wanted more, needed more. He set his blackened eyes for the chest of his crippled enemy, where his Rage-sharpened ears could hear the muffled cries and panicked heart of a weak spirit.
“I CAN HEAR YOU IN THERE!” Cole roared at the torso. “GET OUT HERE AND LET ME TASTE YOUR WEAKNESS!”
The Colossus sat halfway up on its elbow, its eyeless head twisting and searching as a fist the size of a small house smashed blindly at the ground.
Cole dodged casually to the side as the Colossus struck at him. He was close enough now he could hear the words from the priest inside.
“It’s him! The human, he is on me now! Help me you dithering idiots!”
Cole’s curiosity drew his eyes to the other giants. The titans ceased their fighting and began sprinting towards Cole.
“I know I mustn’t kill him, but he’s about to kill me! The rumors are true, we should not have come alone.”
“WHAT RUMORS?” Cole bellowed, “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? ANSWER ME!” He chopped his munisica across the layer of Underkin, scooping off broken hunks.
The priest’s only response was a frightened squeal that itched at Cole’s munisica. Cole wanted nothing more than to extinguish that sound. Anything capable of such a pathetic noise deserved to be killed. Cole’s momentary curiosity was suddenly smothered by a need for the priest’s head. He cleaved off layer after layer, working himself into a frenzy as the Colossus struggled. Blinded by his growing Rage, Cole didn’t notice the giant hand sweep down and grab him, but then again he didn’t have to. The hand came apart as easily as the chest, as though the Colossus had just stuck its arm into a running blender. With a satisfying crunch, Cole found the walls of the bone nest.
The Colossus stopped moving, limbs crashing like dead weights against the ground. Cole slashed away the final pieces of the chosen before sinking his claws deep into the bone nest. He gave a good yank, but the armor was thick and held fast. Cole’s savage grin deepened. It was about time he found something that didn’t simply fall apart under his munisica. He stabbed his feet into the side of the nest, granting him the necessary leverage. Growling, he let the Rage grow, giving more and more of himself until he no longer remembered who he was, only what he needed to do. Inside the walls of the nest his munisica grew like bladed roots, cutting through the bone as if it were rotten wood. Cole heaved, ripping off a large portion and sending it skipping over the hardened dirt.
The priest coughed, choking on the desert dust. His naked body was covered in soggy sheets of pale skin, as though he’d spent his entire life in a well underground. Ropes of white tendon ran from the walls of his cage, suspending him in the center away from the sharpened spikes. A thick bundle of nerves dangled over him, connecting to the base of his skull. There was a bloody ring around his mouth where pinkish strips still clung to a broken tube of flesh that Cole had just torn off.
The priest spat something unintelligible as he thrashed without effect in his morbid machine. As Cole reached his bladed hand into the bone nest, the priest cut his arms free with sizzling purple light from his fingertips. Gritting his teeth, the priest flung his hands towards Cole and showered him in a hail of violet needles. The spell burned holes through what was left of his Morthainian armor before shattering against the shroud. Cole’s bladed hand continued its descent. Taking his time, Cole sank his munisica into the priest’s chest, careful to avoid his vital organs. Savoring his cries of pain, Cole pulled the priest free, snapping the tendons and nerves that held him in place and dragging him into the open air. The priest screamed as if he were being torn in half as the bundle of nerves snapped from his skull. Cole leapt from the disintegrating Colossus, throwing the priest out onto the ground. The priest rolled to a stop, soggy skin caking with dirt as he clutched his pierced chest. Cole waited, granting the priest a few precious seconds to catch his leaking breath. As Cole had hoped, the priest cast his hands out, flinging another spell at him. Dark, bloody flecks exploded from the priest’s palms, covering Cole from head to toe. Cole recognized the rank fragrance of Despair, but the wicked magic evaporated from him like evening dew before a bonfire.
“Sorronis, take me,” the priest murmured, placing his palms against the sides of his head. There was a flash of violet light and the priest fell lifeless to the dirt.
Cole stomped the ground, furious that he could no longer make his enemy suffer for his weakness. He needed to kill. To dominate. The Rage demanded it. He turned his burning gaze to the two remaining Colossi that still lumbered towards him. The priests within would not get a chance for such cowardice. He would kill them more quickly.
They were smaller than the one he’d just defeated, but perhaps together they would prove a worthy outlet for his Rage. They drew near enough to shake the ground. Cole readied himself, but then huge chunks of their torsos suddenly broke apart, followed by the distant sounds of cannon fire. Cole wheeled around, his sharpened eyes catching the flapping of velvety sails and twinkling of yet more glass missiles tearing through the air. The Colossi were hit again, this time in the legs. They tripped over themselves and fell with an explosion of dust. Cole growled, his munisica aching for action. Who would dare strike at his enemies before he had a chance to tear at them? He set his blackened eyes for the ships. The Colossi could wait.
Cole shot off across the desert, a blurred shadow of need and violence. He was barely halfway to the ships when he found himself floating in midair, his munisica kicking out at nothing. Thrashing and roaring into the night, he felt his momentum slow as he was raised into the sky. Cole’s Rage flared, incensed by the futility of the situation. A woman with rippling emerald wings hovered into his view. If only she were a little closer. His munisica thirsted for her flesh. She said something, though her words went unheard. Cole didn’t want her words, he wanted her dead. There was a tug at his insides as some invisible force brought him to her. Before he knew it her arms and legs were wrapped around him, her body pressed tight against his. Cole’s munisica twitched, eager to bury themselves in her back. He flexed, feeling her grip yield and slip. He took his time, savoring her weakness.
Something then happened that gave him pause. Her mouth was on his armored lips, kissing him. Even through his shroud he could feel how soft she was. Her touch was as soothing as it was disarming. Before he knew it, Cole’s Rage was doused.
As if he were waking from a daydream, the bloody lens of Rage lifted from his eyes. Lileth was in his arms.
“Welcome back,” she said, pulling her lips from his.
“Lileth,” Cole mumbled, “I’m so sorry. I almost killed…”
She hugged him. “But you didn’t. The Morthainian navy is making short work of the remaining Colossi. Look.” She twisted them around so Cole could see the titans falling to the naval artillery.
“I wasn’t talking about the stupid ships,” Cole said, swallowing back hot shame. “I almost killed you…I wanted to. I didn’t even know who you were.”
“But you didn’t,” she repeated, her voice melting the last bits of Rage from his core. “At least I found a way to defuse you. You were terrifying. You felled the largest Colossus in under half a minute. I shudder to think how long it would take you to disassemble the entire Morthainian navy.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose it again.” Cole went rigid in her arms. “I couldn’t stop myself. It felt too good. I won’t let it take me again.”
“I hope you
do.” Lileth gazed down at him with a sly grin. “Your Rage is a part of you, and no part can be ignored forever. Acquaint yourself with it. I will be there to douse your fire should it burn too hot.”
“But that’s dangerous,” Cole mumbled, not knowing what else to say. He thought every day about kissing Lileth, but not like this. It would have been all too easy to maim her with his claws. If not for his Rage wanting to give her a chance to attack him, he would have pulled her in half. There would have been no one there to stop him or hold him accountable, not until his Rage finally subsided. If it ever did.
“Do not dwell on it.” She gave him a swift peck on the cheek, stunning him. “You should rejoice, this is our first victory as a unit thanks to you. Even Roth wasn’t a match for all four of them.”
Cole’s heart sank. “Where is Roth? He was hurt real bad after he took down the first one.”
“Eliza is tending to him,” she said, lowering them back to the ground.
Cole shut his eyes. He tried to reconnect with Eliza, but the link was severed. He could feel Goran’s familiar presence, however. The mirak’s bloodlust had relaxed enough for Cole to worm his way through, though he approached his friend’s mind with caution. Goran acknowledged him, giving Cole’s consciousness a solid bump. Cole impressed the danger of the artillery, telling Goran to stay away from the Colossi. Goran responded with another bump.
Cole’s bare feet clapped to the dirt as Lileth released him. He turned to the Colossi. They were both on their backs but still moving. “We should go finish off the priests. I think the Colossi can remake themselves. Goran took an entire hand off of one and it kept moving around. I saw other parts crawling around and knitting themselves back together. Once the priest died the whole thing went still though.”
“Shall I carry you or are you up for a little jog?” she asked, eyeing Cole’s bare feet and hesitance. “Do not fret, I will levitate you should your Rage consume you.”
Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers Page 15