Otherworld Soldiers- Rise of the Apocalypse

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Otherworld Soldiers- Rise of the Apocalypse Page 20

by Fox Lancet

“For exhaustion from the journey to the gate. I had been wounded to no one’s knowledge on Eslendor and made the journey from the desert without a steed. You but placed your hands upon my face for half a red sky before I felt renewed.” The soldier started when Calious snarled, taking a hostile step toward Aisleen.

  “This charade ends now, Seraph. We will finish this in private.” His eyes had flushed purple and the nearby troops watched anxiously, wondering at his intrepid anger.

  “No,” Aisleen stated sharply. “I stood idly by while you demeaned me. It is my turn to make a fool of you. It is only just.”

  Calious growled incessantly. “I need not treat you justly. You deserve no equality here nor do I need allow you to degrade me before my horde.”

  “And how might you stop me?”

  “By whatever means, you deceptive witch.”

  “You said yourself that Nefarion would not approve of my death without inflicting my same fate on my executor.”

  “When he is made aware of the atrocity you misled me to, he will make an exception.”

  “I doubt what I have done will warrant the approval of my death.” Many of the engaged Demons were growling with impatience, eager for the unsaid deed to be revealed.

  “Enough, Aisleen, do not divulge this action and I will be lenient,” Calious lowered his voice, taking another step toward her.

  “What has passed between us is not as shameful as you perceive it,” she replied quietly before raising her voice again so all could hear, “though you claim my proximity induces nausea and self annihilation.” Calious’s features contorted in suppressed anger.

  “Aisleen,” he murmured in a warning tone.

  “My method for Calious’s quick restoration was--” Calious cut her words off with a tremendous roar and lunged at her. She popped into the air gracefully, her wings canopying about her and carrying her out of his clawed reach.

  “My method…” As she continued, Calious liberated his chain mace, twirling it just as she finished. “…was braiding him.” He released the weapon and she dodged out of its chimed route.

  Demon exclamations filled the air in short barks and they all turned to one another to voice their opinions of the revelation, its truth confirmed by Calious’s absolute rage with the widespread disclosure.

  Calious was winding up for another attack on the airborne Seraph when he heard his name roared desperately over the commotion. The call originated in the direction of the gate. Both his and Aisleen’s attention reverted in the direction just in time to witness another white, winged form penetrate the air above the gate. A separate white figure dropped from its clutches before the winged one darted back into the sky, Aisleen not far behind it.

  Lenees and Kaleb had waited until Aisleen had been absent from the gate’s vicinity for a fair amount of time since she would be the only imminent threat to Lenees’s escape. The occasion required a complete red sun and the moon’s quarter ascension through the sky before they were finally able to execute their basic plan.

  She was fast and many of the Demons did not call an alarm until Kaleb was already leaving her grasp. Fortunately, something had detained most of the Demons’ attentions, otherwise their appearance would have been observed the moment she broke from the veil of thick leaves.

  Kaleb had armed two swords before their entrance and Lenees watched as he fell before the mouth of the gate. As soon as he touched ground, he was swinging his weapons skillfully; horned Demon heads lopped into the air and thudded grotesquely to the ground. The night gave the illusion of black fountains spurting into the blue night, splattering across the white-glowing prince as she relunctantly retreated.

  To Lenees’s dismay, Aisleen had been very near on her prolonged disappearance, and the evil Seraph was already in the sky behind her.

  A whine resonated uncontrollably from Lenees’s throat. She was not accustomed to experiencing darkness or the enemy that escorted it. Kaleb and his followers had kept her a secret from the enemy and she had only heard stories and seen scars. The first time she had truly felt the power of darkness was just the moon rise before the one she flew under now, when she had met Kaleb’s plea.

  A shriek burst from her throat when she felt the determined grasp enclose her ankle.

  “What is your hurry?” Aisleen snarled in her delicate native tongue as she snatched the slender ankle of the new Seraph female, who released a frightened cry.

  She pulled the resistant female toward her, their bodies twisting together through the air without faltering in elevation—both pairs of wings keeping them suspended indefinitely. Confusion distracted her mildly while struggling to detain the stranger. The winged Seraph was powerful but still exuded a sense of light that stirred Aisleen’s insides with revulsion.

  “Release me, vile beast,” the lightened female rasped.

  Aisleen had had her fair share of insults for the evening and in response to the words, she dug her sharp fingers into the female’s side and pulled firmly, tearing flesh. When her enemy screamed, she smiled with delight. In the moment of her enemy’s painful distraction, Aisleen reached over the Seraph’s shoulder and took hold of the base of one of her wings.

  “Instead, I suggest you surrender.” Keeping a tight grasp on the bone of the wing, she let go of the Seraph’s body and briskly kicked her around so Aisleen was hovering at her enemy’s back. The action gave her full control of their course through the sky. She took hold of the flowing white hair that distracted her vision and tugged the female’s head back violently.

  “Time to end this,” Aisleen announced into the female’s ear then released her hair and moved her tight grasp to the base of the Seraph’s skull while her wings kept an adept canvas in the air. In one malicious movement, Aisleen pulled at the joint in her hand and pushed her enemy’s back in the opposite direction with her feet. The ligament tore, rending the glittering flesh. The strange female Seraph released an agonized scream before losing consciousness.

  Calious walked from the gate, grinding his teeth.

  “At least it was only one,” a nearby Demon encouraged at Calious’s turned back.

  “One for four! It should have been none!” Calious shouted without turning to acknowledge the other Demon, meaning the statement for all.

  “Wrath,” he commanded with less volume. The thirty-six Wrath soldiers came forth and joined his slow gait toward the ledge. “Set yourselves around and as much as you can upon the gate, even if it means several of you sitting in the entrance. Take care not to fully enter it. Remember the Lord’s words. I will not have another crossing under any circumstance or I will execute each of you myself.” Calious reached the ledge and stopped, gazing thoughtlessly down the side of the mountain. “Is this understood?” He did not turn to see their response, in turn receiving the verbal one he meant to procure.

  “Yes, commander,” the overlapping guttural voices affirmed. He said no more and listened to the heavy footfalls tread hastily in the direction of the gate.

  After a moment of their absence, Calious glanced at the sparkling sky. He turned away from the edge and studied the sky through the leaves, waiting for a shadow to blot out the shimmering stars. The moons were languidly reaching their destined horizon. Just as he was about to revert his gaze, the anticipated shadow slid across the face of Strace.

  He watched attentively as Aisleen dropped in front of the gate, her landing made hard from the extra weight. Seeming without effort, the limp body of the flying intruder was slumped in one of her arms. Aisleen tossed the unconscious form into the arms of several Demons, attesting that she was done doing her part. Her white, glossy body was splattered ominously in blue blood that feigned black in the darkness. Searching, her gaze darted across The Horde before landing and fixing on Calious. Once she found him, she approached him with slow determination. Though the nearer she got the quicker her pace until she was rushing toward him.

  Calious growled, skeptical with the fervor of her advancement. He did not move, not the slightest bit fearf
ul of the fragile creature. Finally she launched herself at him, her slender shoulder thrusting into his gut. Calious snarled as her force threw them over the edge.

  Loose gravel met his back on their landing; Aisleen sprawled atop him as they slid down the steep incline together. The pain of the precarious jagged pebbles assaulting his back made him sigh in pleasure. Their hasty descent began to yield and the wetness of his blood cooled against his hide under the night air. Aisleen beamed down at him.

  “Now that we are free of prying eyes, will you speak true?” Blood rivulets marred her face. Calious found it oddly alluring on her angelic features, though he ignored the thought.

  “I will never speak what you wish.” He made a failed attempt at a glower, but the ecstasy of pain still soothed him. Aisleen regarded him quizzically before realization flooded her features. She smiled and closed her eyes.

  Before Calious could identify her intention, it was too late to put up his defenses and he felt the spindling cord of her spirit enter. He flinched in an effort to shun it, but his own soul cast aside the effort, rushing into the braid.

  11

  Nemeses

  Gravel crunched under the duo’s feet as they walked along a tall chain link fence. The day was bright and warm, accompanied by a cool breeze. Nefarion was ahead of Saliea by a good five feet as usual. His hair was still standing stiffly, and his wallet chain had a new menacing appearance.

  They were walking alongside several train tracks running through the industrial side of town, still heading south. A row of haphazard houses with gabled roofs watched them crookedly from behind the fence, overgrown and tangled with yellow grass and crisp, brown vines. The miniscule neighborhood was devoid of movement or sound, but little telltale signs of occupancy littered the barely-there front yards and crumbling porches.

  The row ended and was now behind them. In their place, scrap yards, quiet stone warehouses, and underpasses with vagrant forts. Distant traffic was always apparent; white noise that never seemed to pause for a breath.

  “So, are you going to tell me what exactly you plan to do with me?” Saliea broke an hour-long silence quizzically. Having shuffled through as many fantastical scenarios as she could, asking seemed like the best course of action.

  Nefarion looked to his right to put her in his peripheral vision. He eyed some of the passing structures aimlessly. His tongue tracking over his lips, he looked forward again.

  “I have not completely decided,” he answered after a few thoughtful moments. Saliea jogged forward to put herself next to him and matched his long stride with quick, short ones.

  “What do you mean you haven’t decided?” Saliea insisted. Nefarion glanced down at her briefly. When he looked away, a smile crawled onto his face.

  “I meant exactly what I said: I have not ultimately decided what I am going to do once I get you back to the gate.” He slowed his step after a moment, noticing her efforts to keep up. Saliea huffed.

  “You haven’t ultimately decided? All right, then what different things are you trying to decide between?” Saliea led them off the gravel and through a hole in the fence, meaning to begin directing them toward town. They came out on a clean concrete slab. A one-story brick building stood solidly nearby.

  “One, I can try and drive my enemy to this side of the gate and have you shut it. Two, I can lead the nine Demon Legions across, leave my enemy on the other side and have you close it then. With the latter, we could destroy and take control of this world. Though, the idea I have been considering above all is to conquer and recruit from this world, expand my reign, and snuff out my enemy. In that plan, I will have both worlds.” A giant, malicious smile spread across Nefarion’s face as he looked down at Saliea.

  “Oh.” She pursed her lips, looking around at nothing particular. “But in the last one, I’m not exactly a factor.” Nefarion’s grin faded into a handsome corner-smile.

  “From this point forth, Saliea, you will always be a factor. If my enemy gets his hands on you, he can execute either of my first two plans. Either way, he would be sure to separate me from my soldiers. This would leave me vulnerable in the hands of hundreds of Seraphs. I would surely perish. Oh yes, Saliea, you are a factor.” Saliea mulled over his words as they walked on quietly. Nefarion glanced at her on occasion as if to gauge her thoughts by her facial expressions.

  When they entered the shade of another brick building, Saliea found herself on her hands and knees on the unkempt side walk, tiny pebbles and gravel scraping into her hands. She heard a short bark and looked over her shoulder.

  A man of somewhat smaller stature and shorter height than Nefarion was standing where she had been a second before. Nefarion looked disturbed, a look she thought impossible for him, but the white-haired, white-eyed man had practically fallen from the sky. He rushed at Nefarion so quickly he was only a blur. Not being quite strong enough to lift Nefarion off the ground completely, he pinned him against the cold, hard bricks by his neck and put him on his toes. Nefarion’s features quickly turned to rage as soon as he found himself choked against the wall. The two men’s eyes burned into each other’s.

  Almost the same moment Nefarion’s back had met the bricks, he struck upward at the other man’s arm. The action released the vise and he slid from the wall. Before his assailant could retaliate, Nefarion kicked him in the stomach, sending him backward several feet.

  Instead of falling into a defensive stance, Nefarion rocked casually back onto one of his booted feet. An evil smirk slipped across his lips. The other man stood tensely still, but did not make a move.

  Saliea had picked herself up, brushing her hands on her pants and never taking her eyes from the combatants.

  “Kaleb,” Nefarion purred like a panther. He nonchalantly pulled brass knuckles from his pocket and began twirling it on the index finger of his left hand.

  “I think it is time for you and me to return from whence we have come. And conclude our dispute there.”

  Nefarion cocked a black brow skeptically and chortled. “Why would I choose to do that? I have a new world here, begging for eradication; billions of lives seething across its face. I care not that you still call for my death. Come at me now, and we will finish this here. Or forever waste away your existence pursuing me.” He disrupted the brass knuckle’s circulation with his fingertips and let the weapon slide down his fingers.

  Kaleb’s eyes gleamed as they glanced in Saliea’s direction. She gasped in response and had a persuasive urge to run away. Not like the urge she had gotten with Nefarion and his soldiers—the push and pull sensation—but one of baser instinct: to run for her life.

  “Do not lay eyes on her. She is mine and you will not have her,” Nefarion snarled. At the pronouncement, Kaleb looked back and forth between the two as if unveiling some uncanny plot.

  “It would seem so. She houses a force nearly as dark as your own, Nefarion,” he spat his enemy’s name. “But I will do what I must to lure you away from this simple, naïve race.” Kaleb leaned forward, tilting his head, eyes frozen on Nefarion. The darker man glowered at the cryptic statement, his eyes filling with red at the untold threat.

  Saliea stepped backward, a foreign charge filling the air about her. She felt dizzy and a moment later, Nefarion and Kaleb entered into a whirlwind of preternatural violence.

  A sudden wave of mind-blowing pain wracked Saliea’s head. A stifled cry escaped her and she dropped to her knees. Another wave of pain jolted between her temples. She screamed, tears rushing to escape. Her head felt like an enormous vise was crushing it. If another crushing pain ensued, she thought her skull might pop. When it came, her head did not explode, but her stomach emptied in retaliation. Her vision went red and she screamed again.

  The pain vanished as quickly as it had come. When the red cleared from her sight, Kaleb was jogging in her direction, blood streaming down his face and spotting his clothes. Her stomach churned at his proximity. She heard a wordless roar and she fell onto her right hand to look past Kaleb.
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br />   “Kaleb!” Nefarion roared. His wrists were bound behind his back by his lethal wallet chain, which was now connected to a single pipe jutting from the earth that, a foot away, arched back into the ground. Blood pooled behind and beneath him as the metal shards lacerated his skin. He did not seem perturbed by the torturous tether, his eyes locked on Saliea.

  “Touch her and you will meet your end, Kaleb!” His entire body weight and unnatural strength pulled in their direction from his contorted position close to the ground. The pipe squealed in protest and Kaleb shot a glance back at Nefarion without stopping.

  “Come, we have not much time,” Kaleb whispered as he reached for Saliea’s arm. She was still watching Nefarion, whose eyes tinted purple when Kaleb’s hand met her skin. Nefarion snarled, his teeth sharpening, and he tugged on his anchor again. A deep rumbling resonated beneath the ground. The only one who seemed to take notice of the ominous noise was Kaleb.

  He snapped Saliea to her feet and turned back to view the origin of the sound. Nefarion crouched austerely, the chain stuck deep in the flesh of his wrists. His eyes were still purple, but a corner smile basked on his mouth.

  “We must leave, now.” Kaleb picked Saliea up by her hips and laid her over his left shoulder. She yelled aversely.

  “Let me go, I don’t want to go with you.” She looked pleadingly at Nefarion. At that moment, one side of the pipe ripped from the ground, a dark liquid bursting into the air. The chain went slack and Nefarion stood and smiled. Kaleb cursed and proceeded to run in the opposite direction.

  Saliea screamed at the impossible distance the action put between them and Nefarion in a matter of seconds. A void filled her and was joined by a painful migraine, like a drug addict deprived of her handle.

  The ride was extraordinarily smooth. In less than a couple of minutes, they were around corners, passed buildings and Nefarion was out of sight. After a few minutes, the migraine pushed Saliea into unconsciousness.

  * * *

 

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