“Nice place,” I commented.
We dismounted our horses, and I broke open the large castle doors with a magical force. Inside, twelve human guards brandishing spears rushed to stop us.
“HALT!” they ordered.
The army of undead charged past me to quickly dismember them, and I strolled inside to meet a regal gentleman standing at the throne.
“What is this madness you’ve brought here?” he yelled at me. “I am Artimes, chief architect of this castle, and I demand to know why you’ve come with these, these corpses.”
Without a word, I continued walking toward him. He drew his sword, but I telekinetically tossed it from his hand. I grabbed hold of him, and with the thirst burning inside me once again, I bit into the man’s neck. From his mind, I saw that Byron hired him to build a castle over a tunnel that goblins used to gain entry into the dwarven kingdom. Artimes was to hold the throne until Magnus could be released.
I withdrew my teeth from Artimes’ neck, and he fell back against the steps of the throne. It was strange drinking blood from the living, but I needed it after three days without any.
More soldiers charged in from hallways leading into the throne room, but their weapons were useless at killing those that were already dead. My army made short work of them, and I brought them all back to serve me. I led them down long corridors and stairs into the depths of the castle where more guards were stationed at a barred door leading into the caverns.
“Stand aside, soldiers,” I ordered. “Or become one of these guys.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder to my followers.
The guards stepped aside and stood quietly, shaking in their boots while I unbarred the door and hundreds of skeletons marched past them into the dark tunnels.
The dead laughed at the men. “You will be joining our ranks soon enough,” some said, patting the men on the shoulder as they passed.
“Once you’re dead, you’ll no longer fear us,” others said.
While I stood with the guards, waiting for the last of my army to enter the caverns, I heard strange squawks coming from within. The guards whispered, “Goblins!”
I commanded them to bar the door once we get inside. They nodded that they understood, so I followed my army into the cavern. The large, thick doors were shut and barred behind me. Many of the soldiers raised torches that burst into green flame as they marched down the large tunnel that led deeper and deeper into the earth.
There were many tunnels leading off from the main one, but far ahead, I could hear the clash of swords. “Let me get to the front,” I told them, and they separated for me to pass through. I ran through the tunnel, finding a group of dead goblins along the way. They were about three feet tall with long, pointy noses and ears. They wore leather and animal furs. Some had mossy-green skin while others had dull brown skin.
I took a moment to call them up to join me on my quest. I saw nothing in their minds of the obsidian chest that was supposedly lost within these caves, but I did find that some were dead before we got here. I saw Byron and Dirk within their minds. I should kill them both, but if Pop knew his body would be reused after his death, perhaps Byron has it for a reason.
With six undead goblins standing before me in the tunnel as my soldiers marched by us, I assigned them with a special mission. “Goblins, I have reason to believe a black chest is somewhere in these tunnels. I need you to recover it for me. Do you understand?”
The goblins raised their tiny spears and squawked that they understood their orders. They climbed on top of my soldiers to hop quickly over them through the tunnels in search of the chest.
Many other dead goblins littered the dark tunnel, killed by Byron and Dirk as they passed through. Now in death, they joined my army.
I raced on to the frontlines where my army was battling another small group of goblins. The diminutive creatures stood no chance against us, but they fought fiercely nonetheless until the tunnels became quiet. Either the remaining goblins retreated into the side tunnels, or they have all been killed.
The deeper we marched, the hotter it became. I began to feel a constant vibration beneath my feet. I held up my hand to stop the army that I led. I placed a hand against the floor and then to the wall of the tunnel to feel the very life force of the earth flowing just beyond the rock. It was a wonderful feeling, yet unnerving at the same time. Only a few feet of rock separated us from incinerating lava!
Not far ahead, I felt that I passed through a magical barrier of some sort, but it had no effect on me.
“We’re getting close,” I informed those behind me before continuing deeper into the earth.
A fragrance reached my nostrils that reminded me of evening meals with Pop. “Mmm, I smell ham,” I said aloud before coming upon a pile of scorched goblin corpses, and it was clear that the smell of ham came from their burnt flesh. “Goblins! BLUGH!”
We finally reached a heavy door that was barred from the other side. I used my telekinetic power to unbar it. Beyond the door was an immense chamber where we were met by Dirk and an army of zombie dwarves!
Throughout the chamber were many large, widely spaced columns that appeared to be made of obsidian. Volcanic magma flowed through them to both illuminate and heat the room.
Dirk stood at the forefront of the army wielding an ethereal glaive like the one he used in Ashwood. He wore leather armor with a bronze chest plate.
“It pleases me to announce that your journey has reached its end.”
“You know, Dick, I think I’d like you better dead,” I laughed, unsheathing my swords.
“Smash them into dust!” Dirk ordered his heavily armored troops.
Dirk leaped at me to attack, and the two zombie armies crashed together like waves in a raging sea around us. I was a vampire, now, so my reaction speed was much quicker than when we last fought.
An undead dwarf stepped in to attack me with his war hammer. Swinging my swords, I severed both his and the hammer’s head. “Those looked important.”
Dirk began laughing. “I drank from you before Byron began his experiment. Ambrosius, your naïve father, died for nothing; you will never bring back your dead girlfriend, Jinxie; Magnus will soon be released from the earth; and the rest of your wretched race will burn!”
I have never been one to anger easily, but his words struck a nerve deep within my soul, and rage took me. I fought harder, carelessly. My attacks were easily deflected as he toyed with me.
“Oh! I nearly forgot about the whore. I drank from her, too, before Byron sawed off her head. Her blood was the sweetest I’ve ever tasted,” Dirk taunted, licking his lips.
“I WANT YOU DEAD!” I screamed, attacking wildly.
He blocked my attacks and knocked both Scourge and Devour from my hands. They struck one of the large columns and fell to floor. He kicked me in the face, and I fell. He attempted to impale me, but I summoned a shield in time to block the attack and a spear to counter attack.
Stepping out of reach, he nodded his head, saying, “I’m impressed.”
I quickly got back on my feet, but a bony hand took hold of my shoulder and pulled me into the crowd. It was Odilia.
“You’re going to retreat?” I heard Dirk yell. “Come back here and die like you’re supposed to!”
Patiently, I asked, “What’s wrong, Odilia?”
“We’re not doing well,” she informed me.
It was then that I noticed one of her arms had been smashed, and the war raging around us wasn’t tipping in my favor. The dwarves were better equipped, and my soldiers were losing limbs faster than they could reattach them.
A dwarf swung his axe at me only to bang against my ethereal shield. I pushed him away and summoned my army to create a circle around me.
“We cannot win this war,” Odilia told me.
Once a perimeter was formed, I placed my spear and shield on the stone floor long enough to cut my hand on one of the many broken swords. While I could still hear Dirk yelling over the clashing battle, I marked the fl
oor with my blood but nothing happened.
“DAMN!” I cursed, striking the floor with my bloody fist. “Byron’s resurrection spell is too powerful for me to take control of them.”
Looking up to Odilia, I thought of an even better spell to cast. While my hand still bled, I drew a second character on the floor that brought the dead to silence throughout the entire chamber, and my army began merging like the walls they formed beneath Byron’s castle. Only this time, they formed one massive creature—a bone golem! Odilia was soon pulled into the growing hulk to add to its frightening mass.
“Bones, exterminate them!” I commanded.
The dwarves stood motionless as they looked up to their, now enormous, adversary. The golem lifted its heavy foot and stomped three dwarves at once, absorbing them into its body. The others began attacking it, but chipping away at the mass of bones and armor didn’t slow the golem down.
I picked up my spear and shield just as the surrounding dwarves divided to reveal Dirk across the room. I ran at him. He raised his hand, summoning a spear and launched it at me. It was a powerful throw, but it burst into light when it made contact with my shield. I began picking up speed, charging at him to attack. He threw another spear, but I deflected it away. Within striking distance, I lunged, but Dirk was able to summon his bladed staff in time to push my spear off target. I followed the attack with a shield bash, catching his jaw with its edge. The blow caused him to stumble, and I speared his lower back. Both our weapons dissipated, and through the pain, he telekinetically pushed me away.
Dirk moved in to attack again. He shot arrows of energy from his hands that I blocked with the ethereal shield that I still carried. He then summoned another glaive and swung it down at my shoulder. I raised my shield in time to block it, but he used the other end to sweep my legs out from under me. I fell hard on my back, and my shield returned to the magical realm from which I summoned it. Dirk spun his staff around to impale me, but my golem stepped forward, kicking him across the room into one of the many obsidian columns that supported the chamber.
The bone golem had nearly doubled in size from absorbing all the undead dwarves that it attacked. Its head was nearing the high ceiling, but there weren’t many dwarves left for it to absorb.
While fighting off the last of the reanimated dwarves, I doubled-kicked one in the face. “It smells like defeat, doesn’t it? With a capital FEET!” I told the fallen dwarf before it was absorbed into the mighty bone golem.
“There’s my boys,” I said, spotting my obsidian swords across the large room. I telekinetically pulled them to my hands and cautiously approached Dirk’s body lying at the base of the magma-filled column that he was kicked into. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, and I could tell that he suffered many broken bones. He was unconscious while his blood worked to heal him, but I knew he would awaken soon. I plunged both swords into his chest and watched as his body shriveled to a leathery husk.
CHAPTER XII
AMBROS VS BYRON
“BYRON IS BEYOND THOSE DOORS, MASTER,” Bones’ voice boomed. “I CAN FEEL HIS SORCEROUS PRESENCE.”
Looking away from Dirk’s corpse, I saw the door at the far end of the chamber between rows of columns. “Then let’s say hello.”
“BUT I’M TOO BIG. YOU’LL HAVE TO GO ALONE.”
The heavy iron doors leading into the next room appeared large to me, but were tiny compared to the monstrosity that I had created. A wheel attached to a pulley system next to the doors allowed me to open them, and I stepped into another large room.
There was a large fountain of volcanic magma at the center of the room. An enormous, iron statue of a heavily armored dwarf stood proudly atop an obsidian pillar where molten rock poured into a hot pool. A hole in the high ceiling allowed heat to vent from the chamber.
Byron walked out slowly from behind the fountain with his hands clasped together. The ancient necromancer, in my father’s body, wore a regal green and black suit with a black cape. He opened his arms to me, and for the length of a single breath, I wanted to run to him. Memories came back to me of Pop splitting bones on the porch while I scrapped out marrow. I remembered all those early mornings when we walked through Ashwood to collect mushrooms to make bread.
“My son,” he said in a soothing voice, drawing me from my thoughts. “I am so proud of you. You have come far and traveled a difficult road. I know you have many questions. Come with me. We can find the answers together.”
I felt his will pressing upon me, reminding me that he is not my pop. I stepped up to look straight into his eyes. “You’re Byron, created by Shadowrath himself, and tasked with resurrecting him, should he fall. I am not your son!”
“Oh, but you are,” he argued. “I healed your wounds and granted you eternal life. The blood which flows through your veins is my gift to you, my son.” He reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Together, you and I can free Magnus from this magical prison and destroy the dragon race forever!”
Remembering Lorena’s sword piercing that shoulder and destroying my arm, I broke free from his influence. My pupils dilated, and my fingers clenched into a fist as it came up under his chin. A spike of ethereal energy stuck through his skull, breaking through the top!
“I am not your son!” I yelled in his twitching, misshapen face. “You brought war to my city! You killed my friend! You used me in your experiments! You will not manipulate me!”
Lightning popped and crackled up my arm to strike my enemy. It arced from the tip of the ethereal spike and struck the rocky ceiling high above. He breathed an unsettling, guttural sound before his eyes exploded and his head caught fire. I retracted the spike, and pushed his stinking corpse away from me. As soon as he struck the floor, he vanished.
“Son of a lich! It was an illusion! Ambros, you ass!” I scolded myself, realizing I had been deceived. I gasped and turned quickly, expecting the real Byron to attack from behind, but no one was there.
Byron’s familiar voice thundered from the dwarf statue. “You may hold power over the dead, but do you wield it over death itself?”
The metal that made up the large, iron statue scraped and squealed as it came to life.
“Shit!” I cursed. Looking up at the metal monstrosity, I unsheathed my swords and readied myself. “I’m going to need some help in here, Bones!” I yelled back to him in the other room.
Bones pounded his fists against the thick wall over the door, but he could not break it. He began dismantling himself, so he could fit through the door and reassemble himself inside the room.
The iron golem leaped from the column that it stood upon, punching down at me. I was able to dodge the devastating attack, but I lost my footing and fell. The immense force sent cracks snaking across the stone floor. It extended a hand and launched a spear from its palm that pierced my thigh. I yelled out in pain and noticed there was a chain that linked the spear to the golem’s hand.
“Uh, this isn’t going well,” I commented before I was yanked up from the floor and swung around over the golem’s head.
I lost my grip on Scourge and Devour, so they were thrown somewhere across the room. I felt the contents of my stomach rise up into my throat, and blood I had drank from the castle architect spewed from my mouth. I was then slammed onto the ground. “Oh, my face!” I grunted.
The golem retracted the chain, dragging me across the floor and pulling me into its sharp hand. I felt the spear rip from my leg, tearing the muscle. I was being squeezed to the point I thought my body would burst when I saw Bones rise up from behind the golem and strike it with both fists, causing it to stumble and drop me.
While the golem was down on its hands and knees, Bones struck it again. It fell flat on the floor, cracking more stones.
Byron rose out of a shadow cast along the floor by the two golems and walked toward me, seemingly uninterested in the monumental battle happening next to him.
I reached for my swords before remembering I had lost them.
He raised a
hand and lightening arced from his fingertips. The lightening raced toward me, but I summoned two swords from the ethereal realm. I caught the bolt of electricity at the tip of one sword and allowed it to pass harmlessly through my body before expelling it from the other sword back to Byron.
Before it could strike him, he dropped back into the shadow on the floor. A hand suddenly clasped over my mouth, an arm reached around me, and I felt my body go weightless as I was dragged down into the floor. I fought against him, pulling free within the strange dimension to find myself standing on the opposite side of the stone floor. Everything was transparent, appearing to have no mass. Below me, on the other side of the floor, I could see the two mighty golems still battling.
Byron’s eyes were shut as if concentrating deeply, and dark spirits took shape around him. I was suddenly restrained by spirits manifesting behind me while others seemed to reach inside me, taking the shape of friends and loved ones who’ve passed on. I screamed out in pain, but it wasn’t a physical pain; it was one that tore into my very soul, conjuring up intense feelings of loss, heartbreak, and helplessness.
I released a pulse of energy that pushed them away from me. I swung my ethereal swords, which appeared solid in this realm, destroying those that I cut. I fought harder and faster as I made my way to Byron, tearing through the many wraiths he continued to summon. His eyes were still shut, but he no doubt knew what was happening around him. When I finally came within reach of him and swung my swords, he effortlessly caught both blades in his hands. His eyes popped open, and I was thrown back into the real world above.
Byron stood looking down from the large, obsidian column in the center of the lava fountain. “It’s foolish to believe one could kill me,” he said. “Even I don’t know how to die, and believe me, I’ve tried innumerable times.”
I called upon a quick spell to protect myself from heat and told him, “Then you must not have tried hard enough.”
Summoning dual swords, I leaped up to the searing hot column and swung them simultaneously only to be halted by a staff that magically formed in Byron’s hand.
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