by Fox Lancet
He sniggered as the carcass repeated its acrobatics from branch to branch. Following, Hunter descended several tree limbs to clear the depth of shadow from his vision to ensure he witnessed the Slecktic’s remains finally slamming into the dirt below, narrowly missing a Demon comrade. The other Demon shot a haughty glance upward but relaxed into an amused smile of fangs when he caught Hunter’s eye. He nodded briefly and disappeared into the forest. Hunter flipped the ax over his shoulder, returning it to the sheathe on his back and securing it before moving upward again to scour the dark forest for more enemies.
Meanwhile, Syler crept vigilantly up his wooden ramp. The further he ascended the less he utilized his ears and relied on his eyes to guide his hunt. Once the deep shadows began dissipating at his gradual approach, three dark figures chiseled into his view. Two were perched on the same tree limb in prudent defensive positions. The third was propped similarly on an adjacent tree a branch above. Their green eyes were fitfully scanning between the moonlit road that had emptied quickly—save for many great black horses—and the fallen tree nearby, waiting for their adversaries to appear.
An inch more and the green eyes would capture his radiating red eyes and his silhouette skulking through the night’s confines. Silently, Syler liberated the chain at his hip, careful not to let it slack and jangle after release.
The Slecktics tensed abruptly when a chime broke the stillness of the air. Syler clenched his teeth in anticipation as he watched the mace-heavy chain loop around the twin figures’ necks. Right before the chain made a full circle, he subtly jerked its length, influencing its trajectory. It constricted slightly and made a tighter pass after one solid turn, passing now between the two ill-formed heads. The mace slammed into the back of the outer Slecktic’s head in the passing rotation, sending him reeling forward off the tree limb. It continued by encompassing the other Slecktic’s neck. At its end, and with the momentum of its weight, the mace propelled the second Slecktic backward off the limb, catching the bodies in a tangled mass of limbs under the thick tree branch. The bodies dangled side by side, the chain leisurely strangling them both.
The corner of Syler’s mouth went up at his success and he proceeded to slide a dagger from a sheathe strapped to the side of his muscular lower leg. He tossed it easily in the direction of the remaining Slecktic, who at the sudden demise of his companions, narrowly dodged Syler’s knife. The blade embedded itself an inch and a half deep into the wood where the Slecktic’s neck should have been. Syler scowled but was not discouraged. He took off after the Slecktic, bounding from branch to branch diligently, unaccustomed to using the trees to travel. The vulgar creature stayed a tree or two ahead at all times, displaying swiftness in the trees similar to that of the Seraphs.
The Slecktic reached a tree branch with a single, thick rope dangling from it. He spun down it, disappearing into the forest depths. Syler did not pursue the Slecktic to the branch laden with rope, instead he gripped the trunk of the tree he was in and threw himself down its length, his claw shredding the bark on his descent. His muscular arm held his massive weight while his foot controlled the speed of his retreat down the tree. Before his vision could see the ground through the night’s dark void, and he knew it was not much further, he released the trunk’s decimated bark and pushed off the tree with one of his powerful legs. His feet met the ground with a loud crack. Without shifting from his crouch, he glanced in the direction of the rope tree and saw his target scrambling backward from the gore-splattered base.
It seemed the rope was one of only a few the Slecktics had used as an escape method discovered by his fellow Demons not long ago. Rusted black liquid still streamed down the orange bark and trickled off ferns and tall grass, causing the foliage to dance around the tree. Oozing, ragged body parts of four or five Slecktics lay strewn about with the solid carcass of a black Demon.
When the Slecktic heard Syler’s blatant landing, his green eyes darted in the Elite’s direction. He scurried in the opposite direction. Syler sprinted out of his crouch after the sullied, boiled creature.
Running low, almost grasping at the ground with his clawed hands, Syler shot between the trees behind the stumbling Slecktic. Just as Syler began closing in on the inferior being, a shadow twice its size split from the night and checked it into a tree with incredible force. In the same instant that the Slecktic’s back hit the tree, the shadow slid two serrated swords from sheathes criss-crossed on its back and over its shoulders, bringing them down across the Slecktic’s torso like giant scissors. The gray-green creature gurgled and its upper half dropped to the ground with a slimy thud.
Syler paused to watch the elimination of his target; he acknowledged the killer shadow as the Slecktic’s lower half crumbled into the tussocks surrounding the tree. He bowed his head and Nefarion returned the gesture.
Syler met Nefarion at the fresh corpse and they both casually assessed the two halves. Without discourse, the duo continued in the direction the Slecktic had been impetuously running in, a quiet din emanating from the crowded forest.
After a silent stroll, Nefarion and Syler emerged through a break in the trees. The din augmented into a loud collection of Demon growls and roars accompanied by the occasional sound of rending flesh and snapping bone. The three moons, with no thick treetops to obscure them, lit the grassy field like a spotlight in the black forest. On the other side of the hollow, six Demons littered the clearing, their perspiring hides doused in the rust-colored blood of an uncountable number of eliminated Slecktics. Uncountable for no carcass remained fully intact. Three were still breathing at the arrival of Nefarion and Syler. Past the chaos, several small winged creatures stood dumbly on the edge of the woods.
Nefarion released a deep-throated laugh as two Demons shared the task of amputating the limbs off a Slecktic with their bare claws, its blood spraying out in a sporadic dark cloud. The creature made no sound, as Slecktics rarely did. Nearer to their feet, Nefarion and Syler both noted a decapitated Demon.
The pair wandered toward the group as the remaining two Slecktics were put to rest with the removal of some extremities or sliced in two vertically. Nefarion’s eyes wandered from the heavily breathing Demons to the animals standing in the shadows.
“Mount all the heads on those creatures’ saddles and chase them out of here. Reconvene at the road and pass the message to any brother who may cross your path. We must proceed immediately,” Nefarion commanded as his eyes passed along each of the soldiers. “Do not be tempted to pursue any more Slecktics unless you happen upon them within reach. We cannot afford to delay further. I will not wait, assuming the absent are dead.” Nefarion finished as he turned his back on them and began a steady jog in the direction of the road. The soldiers did as they were ordered.
Nefarion and Syler separated on their return to the road, sweeping the woods for any sign of life: Slecktic or Demon. Neither encountered anything until Syler could see the herd of giant equines through the gaps in the trees.
“Syler!”
He knew the raspy growl instantly and turned to look over his shoulder at his closest cohort: Hunter. Hunter sneered from his poised crouch on the tree Syler had felled. “You seem to be missing a vital weapon.” One of his bald brows rose curiously. Syler bowed his head.
“So it would seem. Though the Lord is in a great deal of haste and it would take me much too long to liberate it on my own. Would you like to assist in its retrieval? I am quite certain I will need it in the very near future,” Syler invited in their grisly tongue.
Hunter revealed all his fangs with a Demonic smile.
“Of course.” He squinted his illuminated eyes. Syler jumped onto the tree just past Hunter and clambered up the slanted trunk.
When they broke the darkness and came to Syler’s fatal display, the bodies oscillating vaguely, Hunter laughed. “A work of art as always, Syler,” he praised before assisting in detaching the dangling dead. They let the corpses fall into the black oblivion below and Syler reclaimed his failed dagg
er from the next trunk before retreating down the tree. Hunter followed.
When the duo reached the road, many Demons were still mounting their steeds. Nefarion was at the head of The Horde, growling with impatience. He eyed Hunter and Syler angrily when he caught the two lagging out of the forest. They found their mounts swiftly and rode up to Nefarion’s side even quicker.
“A loss of five. Congregate with The Horde and find out how many Slecktics were eliminated,” he demanded without looking at his Elite before he led his steed away. The Horde followed boisterously, stimulated from the short battle. Hunter and Syler went about the group to collect the number of Slecktics killed.
“Twenty-nine, Lord.” Syler caught up with Nefarion.
“Thirty-one then,” Nefarion replied adding his kills to the death-count. Syler nodded once in acknowledgment. “Five is too many. Had they been Seraphs, I could understand five,” Nefarion growled his discontent for the loss of warriors.
“It may have been due to their lack of recent battle, Lord. Perhaps if there is another we will not lose as many,” Syler suggested. Nefarion’s jaw clenched.
“Perhaps.”
The remaining two moon-ascends before the Plains of Eslendor passed without another attack. The presence of more Slecktics could be sensed many times through the ensuing ascents, but their number was too small to be feared or pursued. On the last ascension, Seraphs started appearing in the distant treetops. Still, no attack was made and The Horde proceeded in agitated awareness.
When the red sun grew in the sky after the fifth night of their journey, the forest began to thin out. A vast opening appeared through the shallowing forest.
“The Plains of Eslendor, I abhor,” Nefarion spoke softly to himself, though enough that Syler and Hunter could hear. “We should assemble before the crossing. We must be ready for an incomparable attack to that of the Slecktics in Schyroline Forest.” Nefarion punctuated with a hard sigh. Syler and Hunter eyed each other, aware of the threat their commander expected with the oncoming open sky.
3
Eslendor
The Horde stood as a black mass under a collection of trees where the sky finally broke through the forest canopy and rested over a large expanse of dry, flat plains.
Across the distance, a sinister mountain range bordered the horizon like a taunting shadow with sharp, protruding angles. Under the resplendent sunlight Nefarion’s eyes had depleted to red pinpoints as he stared at the overwhelming space between his army and their destination. He scanned the skies repeatedly as he paced in front of the mass of warriors, his sharp teeth grinding.
“The last battle yielded unacceptable loss. Five of your cohorts failed miserably against a feeble threat,” Nefarion snarled. “I feel beneath my flesh an awesome menace approaching us here and I require your utmost skill to get across these plains.”
His gaze darted across his fighters before returning his attention to the sky and over the desolate landscape before them. “Do we need rest?” Nefarion sneered and met The Horde with a reproachful glare. The mass growled and barked their anger at the insult. The corners of Nefarion’s mouth went up in a satisfied grin. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Then focus!” he roared, silencing his soldiers. They lowered their eyes. His giant steed danced several steps out into the open and the battalion shuffled, but did not yet proceed. “Watch your brothers’ backs as well as your own and the majority shall continue the journey with the taste of blood in their mouths.” At that The Horde charged forward, weapons unsheathed.
As anticipated, the mass of Demons had only drawn a brief distance from the tree line when the Seraphs attacked. They poured from the shade like white water; some mounted, some afoot. The black herd of Demons did not turn in response, but continued their progression forward with barely a side-glance at the oncoming storm.
“Draw them as far from the forest as possible. During battle, continue to pull toward the mountains!” Nefarion shouted over the rumbling hooves of forty-five imposing equines. The Seraphs pursued determinedly.
After a few miles, when the forest just started to shrink from view, the band of Seraphs broke the Demons’ billowing cloud of dirt and came down on the back of The Horde. In that instant, the black mass at last turned in a bewildering defense, cutting down several deceptively angelic enemies in one quick stroke. Blue Seraph blood splattered across the back row of unflinching Demons who smiled maliciously under the shower of warm liquid.
The break in the Seraphs’ front-line did not hinder the onslaught for more than a moment before more Seraphs trampled without hesitation over their fallen to swing swords and hurl daggers into The Horde. The thud of several daggers meeting resilient flesh sounded as metal clashed and growls and yells ripped to life.
Black and white bodies meshed into one another and spread subtly as the enemies engaged each other in separate battles. Swords became the primary weapons of the fray. The opponents could not best one another, each matching blows and keeping out of fatality’s reach.
When the sun began to fall in the sky and the moons began to appear over Schyroline forest, Nefarion and his warriors heard a cry that sent a quiver of dread throughout the army of Stygian, muscled Demons. The scream was a collection of high-pitched chords and a deep raspy undertone that echoed across the sky. Immediately, without a command, every Demon warrior dodged out of his contest to regroup with the battalion. Both Seraphs and Demons lost their lives at the reconstruction as Demons teamed against unaware Seraphs and Seraphs cut down lone, retreating Demons. Once separated, the combat came to a momentary stand-still as the Seraphs sneered at their black adversaries whose red pinpoint eyes scanned the open sky and glanced back at the white crowd of arrogant foes.
Again the scream sounded, this time with two overlapping responses.
“Three sky serpents approaching from Manthred!” Nefarion’s roar vibrated the ground beneath them in its urgency. Several of the equines laid their ears back and balked at the deafening call. “Do not disregard the Seraphs! They will not wait for the serpents’ attack to be done,” he advised before the enormous threat cast their shadows across the battleground.
They were long and lithe, encased in radiant, black scales that reflected the sun and the moons, causing them to glitter magnificently. Their entire bodies were packed tight with bulging muscles from the top of their necks to the end of tails terminated in razor sharp tips. The wingspan on each matched that of fifteen mounted demons placed side by side. A Slecktic, being the regular peddlers and handlers of the hulking creatures, conducted each sky serpent from atop its great shoulders.
Nefarion cursed inwardly as he gauged the monsters gliding above him and the Seraphs shifting an uncomfortably short distance away. Had he not been so intent on the grim situation he would have smiled when he caught a promising plan among his rolling thoughts. He barked several quick commands to his warriors and without vacillation, The Horde charged the flock of Seraphs standing by. They dispersed evenly, infesting the white crowd of Seraphs, inducing a doubtful defense from the puzzled enemy.
The shimmering sky serpents swooped once, twice, each coming up with empty talons. Their Slecktic handlers denied a grasp upon the white, slim bodies and strived to command the oversized monsters toward the black forms slithering within the ghostly swarm of Seraph below. Screams of frustrated discontent flushed over the battle before all three sinuous creatures skirted the group simultaneously in a counterclockwise attack. One reached out a talon to ensnare a dueling Demon. When it came up short, it flicked its tail in aggravation, knocking down a set of combating Seraphs and Demons as well as unintentionally disemboweling a Seraph before returning to the sky.
Another winged serpent dodged up soon after with a black, muscled equine’s hind legs trapped in its vise. The horse squirmed vigorously, his squeals contradicting his species’ customary voice. A distracted Demon was briefly dragged into the air with the steed as the serpent drifted over the throng. After a short moment the Demon dropped back into the b
attle, landing hard on his feet with his sword in hand. He stayed low as an oncoming Seraph rider came rushing through. The Demon swung his sword with all his strength to meet the galloping legs of the ivory equine. It sliced through the horse’s front legs with ease, sending its agile body reeling forward, a terrified shriek releasing from its throat as its passenger was launched into the air. A nearby observant Demon took it upon himself to cleave the flying Seraph in two at the same time the first Demon finished cutting through the horses back legs.
The third sky serpent had plucked an unsuspecting Demon from his horse during the synchronized attack. His Demon prey roared a futile protest as the serpent carried him through the air. The monster’s ominous jaws snapped at the Demon in his claws. Each attempt was met with a stab or slash at his face, many of the sword’s blows meeting their target. The sky serpent growled viciously at his prisoner’s defiance. Between fanged attacks, the Demon began stabbing at the giant grasp confining him. The serpent instantly retaliated, lopping the Demon’s weapon hand clean off at the wrist with its bladed tail. The Demon’s eyes flushed deep purple as he clenched his jaw against the pain and maintained focus. He retrieved his second sword from the partial sheathe slung on his back with his remaining hand, generating a deep gash in the serpent’s palm. The oversized captor bellowed in anguish, releasing the Demon.
The Demon fell from a great height some distance from where he had been seized. The ground caught his tumbling descent in an explosion of dirt. With ease, he came to his feet out of the rolling fall and watched the sky serpent return to the battle. He shook his horned head and looked at the stump that ended his right arm. The wound bled profusely.