They hadn’t gone far before the two began to hear something creeping forth from up ahead. Aza watched as the horrors around them suddenly began retreating into their dens. Something big was coming. Han could hear it too, a faint wailing in the distance growing stronger by the second. Both of them stopped where they were as something drew into Aza’s view. It was like a giant worm with large scales running down its back. Toothy barbs dotted its sides and helped propel its slithering body down the path much faster then either of them could run. Yet, its most notable trait was its round mouth of jagged, thorny teeth. The puppetmaster pulled his friend to the side, joining the other horrors as they avoided the behemoth. Fast as they did, it reared around and roared at them. Long slits along its belly pulsed in and out before striking downwards. Aza had already pulled them from its path and it bit into the many tentacled beast behind them. It made an agonizing sound, like glass being forced through metal, as a massive piece was ripped from its misshapen body.
“Stay by me!” Aza began uncoiling his threads and drawing them into bundles.
Han just stood where he was, unable to see much of anything in the darkness. Yet he could hear, and faintly make out Aza’s luminescent hair and eyes. He could also follow the light of the strings as more and more sprung out like the stingers of a jellyfish. Aza had hoped that maybe the creature only wanted what was behind them, but knew they weren’t that lucky. He could see the blood burning the rocks it spilled upon, and see the venom dripping from the underbelly of the armored creature. Everything here had poisons or toxins, and this thing was some kind of alpha. Maybe if he used his strings like usual they could beat it, but there was no time to fight. No time to deal with anything else that might spring out once it fell. No, he would have to use something he hadn’t tried before. He could never control animals the same way he could command some humans. Maybe that was just because he was going about it the wrong way.
The monster choked down whatever it had eaten and quickly slithered up to attack again. It was fast, but the strings were faster. Aza struck the two bundles through its underbelly and to the soul within. Playing with the spirits, minds, very being of other creatures was wrong. Yet he hungered to feel the sweet nectar of a soul again. Maybe if he thought he would live past the night, he wouldn’t risk meddling with these powers. Or maybe he would find another excuse. It didn’t matter anymore as flashes of the creature’s life unwound before him. Memories of its existence mingled with his own as the monstrosity screamed in agony. He was siphoning its power as he had done with the Nightman. This was reflex, one he had to subdue as he began to exert his soul over its own. Its muddled, alien memories were all cast aside as Aza dug deep into its spirit. Soon all that either of them could feel were the creature’s most basic functions. The behemoth slowly lowered itself to the ground while Han backed away. He wasn’t sure what was going on but could see the fire in his friend’s eyes, the determination that seemed to radiate off of him as the beast was seemingly tamed.
“Climb on.” Aza looked to Han as he used the force of the threads to push himself into the air. His side briefly becoming corporeal, while those within the monster stayed latched to its spirit and faintly leeching its strength.
The blue energy emanating from around the puppetmaster was enough to light his way, as the scholar awkwardly pulled himself up. “What did you do?” He sounded concerned but was more curious than anything.
“I think... I’m controlling it.” Aza shifted the incorporeal tendrils up like reins and the beast began slithering back the way it came. Though now its pace had dulled as the puppetmaster delicately spun his threads through its mind. It seemed hardly faster than running, but all of the other entities fled from their path.
“Really?” Han looked down at the beast, only able to see what little of it was illuminated the darkness. Though his mind was alight with enough thoughts to illuminate the whole of the cave. “Is it in pain?”
Aza looked down at it, finding its mind with his own. “No, I don’t think it can feel much of anything anymore. I don’t know if it ever will again, actually.” The memories he had cast aside now lay scrambled within its spirit, with no clear way for him to put them back to how they were. “Playing with souls isn’t something I prefer to do. Once you grab one...it becomes hard to let go.”
“Oh, I’m very aware. Souls and soul magic are my focus.” He chuckled. “I cannot exactly use the magic, but I am very aware of what goes into it. Have you ever animated something?”
“No.” Aza wanted to look back but had to keep focused on the path. “I guess it never occurred to me that I could.” He thought for a moment. “So, at that school of yours are there just people flyin around usin spells? Can anyone just learn them, or is it in your blood?”
Han laughed. “Just about anyone is capable of some magic. Though some, like myself, can only do it with assistance from a wand or staff. That being said, it can take years to learn, let alone master, a single spell.”
“Oh.” Aza felt very underwhelmed. “I guess I was expecting something more spectacular.”
“I swear on the Eye of Odin it is. There are people who can turn into beasts, bend the winds to their will, speak with fae from the west, become the elements themselves...” Han thought back to that place and may of the wonders he had seen. “It can take that long to master an initial spell and concepts, but from there the only limit is your imagination. Most people pursue one narrow path of magic and master all it has to offer. Souls were what the school as a whole took to studying until it expanded. It would be the reason why we do not get along with the Paladins.” He rolled his eyes. “They see no difference between us and that house of horrors down in Alvoya Transyl.”
He didn’t recognize any of the names but understood the idea. “So, even if people didn’t take you seriously, why not go back? Why return when you could have had your glory and such? I know you said no one took you seriously...but that place sounds amazing.”
He shrugged, his mind falling to the other things he had seen and lived there. “It is and it isn’t. I got a lot of scorn and ridicule over my years there by people that I never had a chance to compete against. I made mistakes. Some of it was more than warranted. Some were just part of the very...competitive...environment.” His mind fell to the one in front of him and all he has seen in the last few days. “No matter what, the work I did here with you and Luke was some of the most meaningful I have ever done. I have felt more grateful towards...connected to... you people...you... than just about anyone else there.” He laughed. “ I apologize if that sounds crazy. I might have just spent too much time in the library and I lost my mind. I have yet to fully rule that one out.”
Aza nodded. “No, I understand. I’m glad you came back.” He smiled, but without him realizing it, his expression became deathly serious. “I don’t want to lose anyone else…”
With that, the conversation shifted and the two began exchanging stories to pass the time. All the while they drew closer to their prize...and their final battle. The hole ridden rocks, the pulsating creatures, the poisonous slimes all fell away as they drew ever further through the tunnel. The two could feel them going deeper, even seeing the shimmer of a mine track through one of the many crevices. Eventually, the tunnel came to an end, not by stone, but by a thick wall of steel and wood. Both boys could see faint lights pouring through as they drew closer and closer. Han was the first to cling to the monstrosity, followed shakily by Aza as they braced for impact. It was far rougher than expected as the thing sped up and smashed straight through. The impact nearly bucked them off and sent wights on the other side flying off the balcony to the rocks below. The chamber was wide and round, with a pathway curling around its walls and leading down to the crackling red light below. It was here. The gauntlet was here and just a few stories below them. Before Aza could even formulate a plan, a blast of blue light struck out and slashed the side of his steed.
The spiraling walkway on the sides of the chasm was not the only protrus
ion in the rock. There were many twisting bridges of stone that wound across the middle like petrified worms. Standing atop the uppermost one was the Nightman, sword unsheathed and lantern nowhere to be seen. Aza was stunned. If he was here, then who was leading the army? It didn’t matter. The armored creature began ripping down the path and toppling the rest of the wights meant to bar their way. Aza could see pieces of the necropolis below as the cave broke through its ceiling and into one of the pillars housing the mausoleums. Yet strike after strike rained down and the beast was nearly ripped in half. As the behemoth fell, both of its riders were forced off, and onto the paths just over the pit. They could glimpse the witch maybe five stories down, waving her staff and twisting a crackling sliver of stormy red energy. Within it was the gauntlet. Not the whole thing, but a flickering semblance of it as the dark weapon was brought further through. Aza thought that perhaps he could rappel down, or even just jump and find something to wrap his strings onto.
The Nightman suddenly leaped down from above, cracking part of the stone underfoot. Terror struck forth from him, yet to the twisted specter’s shock, so did Aza’s. Han, the remaining few wights, even the witch below felt a chill as the two auras clashed. Not wasting any time, Aza fired his threads into the Nightman’s body. The ghoul tried to cut them down but the sword only passed through as the tendrils hit home. Each of the souls inside found themselves drained as the strings dug deeper into its being. They weren’t just draining, they were searching. Searching for one spirit trapped among the rest, its mind beaten and warped by the dark magic that bound it. The puppetmaster almost gasped when he found it, struck it, tried to bring it to the surface. He prayed it would recognize him and fight back, but that seemed to be a fool’s dream as the Nightman began to stir. The initial impact had stunned him, but now he was lunging forward again. Aza sensed the souls converge on an attack plan, and had to break away, narrowly dodging the strike as the icy blade soared past.
“Dad, I know you’re in there!” He threw up his threads to block another attack, nearly sending him over the edge.
The Nightman didn’t reply, only trudging forwards again. The target’s interference was not mending as fast as it should have, yet it still had to carry out the orders of its master. The one who could see through its eyes guided him, even as she cast her spell.
“Over here, you cretin!”
The Nightman quickly turned his head only to be cracked in the face by the scholar’s book filled satchel. He staggered as his hat was thrown from his head and scarves ripped out of place.
Aza took advantage of the moment of weakness to slam his palms together and fire another blast of threads straight at him. The Nightman only dodged it and kicked the scholar off the edge of the walkway. His bag dropped to the necrite below, but the terrified boy was able to latch onto another path. He was holding on, but only just, unsure if he had the strength to pull himself up as he dangled perilously over the red lightning below. Aza tried to save his friend, but the Nightman stood directly in his path. The two clashed as the icy blade met his luminescent threads. Aza was holding his ground, but the Nightman was relentless. Each blue slash became harder to avoid as the side of his coat became more and more torn, some even digging into his flesh. He wanted to change his cords and try to reach his dad again, but there was no time. Then even if there was, there were too many souls within the demon to keep subdued.
“Dad, it’s me Azriel!” He shouted as the threads were cut in half again. “I know you’re in there. We can fight together; that’s what you always said!”
The Nightman just leaped at him. Aza was once again almost sent spiraling down into the growing chaos below them.
“She had Agnis killed, mom, Gregory, you...everyone!” Rage was billowing as his threads became more numerous. Yet even here, with the gauntlet so close, he was weakening.
The Nightman intentionally slashed too far with his right hand, luring out the strings and allowing his left and to punch Aza straight in the stomach. The puppetmaster toppled onto his back, wounds stinging, and threads scattered. It was just like at the mansion. Yet Luke was gone. There was no one to save him as the Nightman leaped up and brought the blade down. He closed his eyes as he realized that despite it all, he had failed. He had failed Mom, Dad, Agnis, Gregory, Han, and most of all...Luke. Yet the blade missed. The clang of steel against stone caused his eyes to spring back open. Despite having a clear shot. Despite having no interference or obstruction...it missed. The tip of the blade lie near his head, jammed into the rock and unable to fully cut down. The look on the Nightman’s face was that of confusion as all the souls within scrambled to figure out what had happened. All except one. One that was fighting with all it had against the magic that had kept it blind for so long.
Aza could feel it. The struggling soul, unable to beat the rest, yet able to buy him but a moment. He shot the tangle of threads forwards and smashed the specter back. The sword stayed where it was as Aza tackled him onto the lower level, the Nightman absorbing the brunt of the impact. His threads were refocused, but Aza was thrown from the dead man and forced to crawl back up as they clashed again. The shimmering strings couldn’t seem to pierce his enemy's flesh and as a result, became little more than ropes for him to grab onto and try to wretch the boy off the edge. Though, all the Nightman had was durability and a blind will to fight. Aza had determination, hope, people to save, and lives to avenge. He kept the threads in bundles, using them as extensions of his arms to smack his opponent back. Despite the odds...he was winning. Then the gauntlet made a massive leap. Aza, the Nightman, and the witch all drank in its might. Aza only got drops, while his adversaries stole the kraken's share.
Just as it seemed Aza could knock his opponent off the ledge and down to the chaotic energy below, the tide turned. The Nightman grabbed both masses of light and ripped the puppetmaster forwards. He delivered one clean blow to his chest and sent his opponent staggering back. Aza tripped and smashed down on the narrow path. As he pulled himself to his knees he heard the sound of stone shattering. The Nightman twisted up a piece of stalagmite, one of many that littered the cave. He swung it up like a club and prepared to bring it down, to bring this foolishness to an end. Aza saw only hatred in the corpses fiery eyes as all of its wills, its focus, its drive was trained on the kill at hand. Yet this magical ability, one to train so many minds on one evil task, was what doomed it.
The club dropped to the depths below as the Nightman stumbled forwards. Aza looked up to see an icy blade protruding from his chest. Han continued to push it through until only the hilt was left in his back. Frost, ice, ancient magics flowed through the vile corpse as his body began to freeze from the inside out. While he staggered and grasped aimlessly, the souls in chaos, both boys ran. As they hit the cave walls, the evil specter’s body froze solid. At first, it seemed like that was all that would happen. Then in an instant, the Nightman’s body exploded into thousands of icy shards. From the debris, emerged the souls. They were free. Aza looked over to Han, amazement in his eyes. The scholar himself couldn’t believe he had done it, even as the spirits flew around them. Yet before either of the two could celebrate this momentous achievement, the whole of the cave began to rock. That was when Aza jumped.
It called to him, cried out to every ear that would listen. The unnatural, the normal, the animals, the living, the dead, everyone within the town heard its call as the gauntlet entered the mortal world again. The witch was cackling as it became solid. This was it. This was what centuries of searching and planning had led her to. Smug self satisfaction had latched itself to her face as she thought about all she could do with this magnificent object. But her expression immediately changed when she saw the boy flying down from above. The two locked eyes, hatred radiating from each of them. A witch who had stolen everything from the other. Ruined his life, taken the lives of all he loved in pursuit of her evil ends. A puppetmaster who had toppled all she had worked so long for and wished to steal what was rightfully hers. One who had dare
d defy her will and topple her pawns. Both grabbed for it, called to harness its ancient, unyielding power for themselves. The witch was closer, but Aza was faster. Both of his hands locked down just as her fingers were about to grasp it.
Everything went dark. Aza felt the witch go flying back, the walkways shatter, Han narrowly avoid death. He hadn't touched the ground. Was he in some other realm? No. He was looking down at Jacob’s Hallow from the turbulent sky above. Or was it only his mind? His gaze drew to the left and saw the gauntlet locked onto his hand. It was darker than night itself, contained behind ebony plates of metal. It was beautiful, yet horrifying. On the back of the hand, between smooth spines, rested an eye. Not a true eye, but a ball of glassy shadow. Even now it beckoned to him. It dug its tendrils of desire into his mind. This thing was alive. Not in any way known to the world, but a conduit for some abstract idea barely aware of itself. Aza’s greatest and darkest desires were pulled from the depths of his subconscious and laid out before him as it pried deeper within his very soul. He wanted his friends and family back. He wanted Luke and Han by his side as he marched across the land with his Nightwatch, purging the world of evil. He wanted to torment the souls of those who had wronged him and still lingered. He wanted glory and vengeance.
The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow Page 35