The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet

by Richard A. Knaak

  As he swallowed the last, Uldyssian, eyeing the dark path ahead, considered his trek. The lowlands and Kehjan awaited to the east. The beginning of the jungle regions was not that far off; if he continued riding in his present direction, he would soon descend into the warmer climes. Cyrus had spoken in the past of the abrupt change that took place down there, almost as if some great mischievous spirit had divided up the world at whim, not planning. One day, Serenthia’s father had told him, you would be wearing a nice, sensible coat that kept you safe from the snow…and the next you would find yourself gasping in the sweltering heat, slapping bird-sized mosquitoes every step.

  Uldyssian had never entirely believed the man’s tales, although some of the traders who had come to Seram had proven the exotic did exist in the east. There had been a handful over the years with the swarthy skin and long, narrow eyes which were supposedly predominant the farther into the jungles one went. Rumor had it that there were men darker yet, with flesh like coal. Others were supposed to be golden in color.

  The mage clans were said to be filled with such strange races of men, and Kehjan itself was supposedly a melting pot. Lylia was proof of that, Master Ethon having even guessed just where her family would have been from. The very thought of approaching the vast city by himself suddenly proved very daunting to the simple farmer. He wished that he could have at least been accompanied by the noblewoman—who knew Kehjan best—yet she was also the one he least wanted near him should trouble arise. The fear that something terrible might befall her had been the most driving reason for his abrupt flight.

  Her face filled his mind. Perhaps one day they would be able to reunite, but not after Uldyssian made certain that it was safe to do so. Yet, Lylia would always be with him, even if only in his memories and his heart—

  “Uldyssian…” came a soft voice suddenly. “My love…”

  He dropped the water sack, then twisted in the saddle. Behind him, to his disbelieving eyes, was the noblewoman herself. She was completely dressed and riding a large, dark steed that he did not recall.

  “Lylia! What’re you doing here?”

  Her smile alone began melting his resolve. “I’ve come to be with you, naturally.”

  “You should’ve stayed in Partha,” he insisted, trying to gather his strength. “I left you with the others for your own sake…”

  She urged the huge mount forward. “You may leave the others, but you can never leave me, Uldyssian. I began this with you and I will end this with you.”

  He was touched by her dedication and wanted to take her in his arms, but recalled the evils of Malic. If she stayed at his side, Lylia would forever be a target of men such as the high priest…or, worse, their masters. No matter how much he yearned for her, Uldyssian had to let her go.

  “No, Lylia. It has to end here for us. I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want you dead.”

  “But you saw what I managed against Malic and think how powerful he was! I can defend myself, my love, especially from those who would separate us!”

  It was a powerful argument, Uldyssian himself having been hard-pressed against the servant of the Primus. Still, he understood from his own abilities that Lylia might very well have been merely lucky, that next time she could discover herself entirely defenseless against some murderous foe.

  The thought of what would happen then was all he needed to regain his determination completely. “No, Lylia. I can’t afford to think like that. If anything would happen to you, it would be too much! You’ve got to go back. No argument. Stay with the others, but don’t consider coming after me again.”

  Instead of obeying, the blond woman dismounted. “I will not go. I will follow you wherever you ride.”

  “Lylia—”

  She left her horse behind, not at all concerned, it seemed, that it could wander off. Stretching her arms to Uldyssian, Lylia continued, “Come hold me once more. Kiss me once more. Prove to me that you can leave me behind. Perhaps, if you say you can, I might reconsider.”

  Although he knew that it was foolish to do so, Uldyssian also dismounted. Just one hug and kiss. It would give him something to remember. He would still insist that she return to the town. He would not weaken in any way.

  But as she melted into his arms, as her lips found his, Uldyssian’s will drained away again. What if Lylia did ride after him? Would she not be more likely in harm’s way searching for him rather than being at his side? Surely, with how he was learning to control his gifts, he could keep her safe…

  A shiver suddenly coursed through him as the kiss continued. Eyes closing, Uldyssian pulled back. A momentary weakness overcame him and it was all he could do to stand.

  “Uldyssian! Are you ill?”

  Almost as quickly as it had vanished, his strength returned. He shook his head. Opening his eyes revealed his vision to be blurred. Uldyssian blinked several times, trying to restore it.

  “I think…I think it’s passing,” he muttered. A vague shape that had to be Lylia began to coalesce in front of him. Uldyssian frowned as she took on more definition. Something was wrong. She seemed different, almost as if—

  He managed to stifle a shout, but could not keep from stumbling farther away from her. Without meaning to, the son of Diomedes collided with his mount.

  The animal turned. Uldyssian heard it snort, then the horse began to shy away, as if it, too, saw something unsettling.

  “What is it?” Lylia asked anxiously. “Uldyssian! What is it?”

  He could not tell her, for he was not certain himself.

  What stood before him was no longer the blond noblewoman. Rather, it was taller and hideously scaled, with a mass of fiery quills for hair, quills that ran down the spine to…to a reptilian tail ending in savage barbs. Where the delicate hands had been were now clawed fingers—four, not five. Worse, the feet were like hooves, yet splayed, too.

  The body was unclad and, although monstrous, still very, very female. The lush curves enticed, drawing his eyes despite his dismay. But most horrific of all was that, when he looked up into the face—the face with its burning orbs that had no pupils and teeth designed for shredding—he could still see the features that he recognized as that of the woman he loved.

  “Are you ill?” the creature asked in her voice, a black, forked tongue darting in and out with each word.

  It was and was not the image from his nightmare and, for a moment, Uldyssian prayed that he had been asleep the entire time. Yet, sense told him that this was reality…and that what he saw of Lylia was no illusion.

  “What—what are you?”

  “I am your Lylia!” she declared, sounding confused and slightly irritated. “What else could I be?” Her tail slapped the earth angrily.

  His eyes shifted to it, then quickly back to her face. However, she noted his reaction and her expression grew more terrible.

  A word escaped Lylia before she could stop her self. “Lucion…”

  “Lucion? What does he have to do with this?” asked Uldyssian, trying desperately to make sense of things.

  “It is obviously a spell of the Primus! He has transformed me into this!” Lylia reached for him, imploring, “Only your love can save me!”

  He started toward her…and then some instinct bade him hold back. Uldyssian recalled how she had glanced back at the tail with little surprise, as if its being there was a perfectly natural thing.

  A great pit opened up in his stomach. He shook his head, trying vehemently to reject what he was beginning to believe. This could not be happening! There had to be an explanation. Lylia could not be…this.

  “Uldyssian!” the demonic figure beseeched. “Please! Hold me! I am frightened by your coldness! My love, only you can restore me!”

  “Lylia…” Again, he stepped toward…and again his instinct was to retreat a moment later. Uldyssian stared closely at her, noting minute details that seemed to show a comfort, a familiarity, with her current form.

  Next to him, his mount continued to grow more and more anxio
us. The horse began struggling with him. Uldyssian could barely hold on to the reins.

  In contrast, though, Lylia’s steed stood still. Too still for one so very familiar with animals. It was almost as if the black horse was mesmerized…

  His frantic mind raced for answers. Maybe this was not Lylia at all! Maybe she was still in bed and this demon had assumed her role. Yes, that could very well be it, he supposed.

  Drawing his sword, he growled, “Keep away from me, demon! I’ve slain others of your kind! You’ll not fool me with that voice!”

  The figure looked perplexed. “Uldyssian, it is Lylia! Remember our first meeting? How you found me admiring the horses? Remember how I insisted on coming to you when you were unjustly locked away? Have you forgotten everything?”

  She went on to name a half-dozen more incidents with enough detail to drain away his hope that this was not her. In doing so, she might have thought that she would pull him back to her, but all Lylia actually succeeded in doing was reinforcing the fact that Uldyssian had been cavorting with something monstrous.

  Yet, despite that growing horror, the farmer could not keep his eyes off of Lylia. There was an unnatural seductiveness to her, so much so that his body desired to crush itself against hers despite what his mind knew. Her every movement enticed, as if, as she pleaded innocence, she also sought to use her wiles to ensnare him.

  Shuddering, Uldyssian forced himself to look away. As he did, he heard a sharp, furious hiss.

  “Look at me, Uldyssian!” Lylia abruptly cooed. “Look at what you have had and what you can have again…and again…and again…”

  Something told him that if he looked, it would be his undoing. His will was only mortal, whereas that with which he had lain could never be called such.

  “Get away from me, whatever you are!” he demanded, still looking slightly to the side. “Leave or…or I’ll do with you as I did the other demons!”

  He expected anger or perhaps fear, as she would surely recall how he had disposed of the foul creatures sent forth by Malic—

  Malic…suddenly that, too, made more sense. Uldyssian had been stunned by the swift ending to the cunning cleric, but that Lylia was more than she seemed explained much. Poor Malic had not known exactly what it was he had faced. Perhaps he had suspected, but even that would not have been enough. The irony might have made Uldyssian smile if not for his own circumstances.

  A strange sound came from Lylia’s direction. Not a hiss, not a snarl…but laughter that tore at his soul.

  “Poor little Uldyssian! My sweet darling! So naive, so believing! You were ever too trusting when it came to what I said…”

  That almost made him face her, which was perhaps as she wanted it. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you not wondered at how quickly your vaunted abilities have blossomed? Have you not wondered why all others—save your loving Lylia—have so far shown so little progress?”

  He had, and the implications in her tone set the hair on his neck stiffening.

  “Yes, he sees the truth now, or at least a hint of it. Yes, dear, sweet Uldyssian…I have guided you every step of the way! What you do, you do in great part because of me, not yourself! I it was who brought forth the storm, who guided the lightning, who caused most of your desire to become reality—”

  And more than that, he knew suddenly. “And who slaughtered one missionary, then slew another with a knife of mine!”

  This caused her to giggle, a sound once musical to the human but now filling him with loathing. “The stage had to be set for you, my love! And what were they, anyway, but pawns of a treacherous lover and a fool of a brother?”

  Uldyssian tried to digest the last. If she was to be believed, both the Primus and the Prophet were known to her very well. One was of her blood—assuming that such flowed through her—while the other had assumed the same role as Uldyssian, but before him. The knowledge only made Uldyssian’s consternation grow. His entire existence was nothing but delusion. He was not this powerful force, but rather a puppet. Her puppet.

  But…a small part of him rebelled at that thought, reminding Uldyssian that this encounter was surely not as she planned matters. She had spat the name of Lucion out before she could help herself. Yet, if Uldyssian was only a weak pawn, why take this action? Why had Lucion just not destroyed him? Uldyssian could only assume that he was either of some value to the Primus or that Lucion could not do away with him. At the moment, Uldyssian doubted the latter, but the former still made some sense, based more than once on Malic’s words.

  And if it did, it had to be because there was something to the power growing within the farmer. Why else would Lylia—if that was what this demoness was called—have chosen him in the first place?

  “I told you before,” he finally said, trying to sound confident and defiant. “Leave now or else!”

  Again, she giggled. “Ah, my darling Uldyssian, how I have come to adore your little stubborn streak! I would say it was from my side, but it could also be from his, they so arrogant, so righteous!” When he said nothing, Lylia continued, “You do not even know about that, do you? You do not even know your history! All of this I would have revealed to you in time, when you were ready! Shall I tell you now? We can still be together! You can still hold me, caress me…”

  Feeling his will crumbling, Uldyssian ducked back. Unfortunately, the horse, still fighting with him, used that moment to pull the reins free. Uldyssian spun around, chasing after them, but the horse was already too far away. He watched the animal race off into the night.

  “Poor Uldyssian…but you do not need that weak creature! I can teach you to fly or materialize anywhere! Once more, the nephalem will rise and, this time, they will assume their rightful place! Ha! I will assume my rightful place, no matter how the High Heavens and the Burning Hells cry out against it!”

  There was a manic tone in her voice, a hint of madness that he had never heard. Without thinking, Uldyssian looked at her.

  Her eyes immediately snared his. Her lips parted and her tongue flashed out, licking as if about to devour a tasty tidbit.

  “When he cast me out for what he thought eternity, he underestimated my resolve! I had slain all of them for the sake of the children; why would I then let the children be his to mold forever in his imperious image? They were special. They were more than either demons or angels! I saw then that they were to be the future, the true end to the infernal struggle!”

  Lylia raised one clawed hand and Uldyssian felt his right foot slide forward. She beckoned with a single finger and his left followed suit. With effort, he slowed his momentum, but it was only a matter of time before he would stand directly in front of her.

  Obviously aware of this, she continued to talk as if all was well between them, as if he was happy to know that he had lain with a monster. “What you have called a gift, my love, is that and much more! You…all humans…are the spawn of our coupling! From demon and angel came the nephalem, greater than anything ever created in the cosmos! The force I stirred within you, the force which I found begging to be released, is nothing less than your birthright! He would see it smothered and all of you kept as so much docile cattle to serve his vanity…but I…but I can offer far more!” She reached toward him. “Much, much more…”

  Gritting his teeth, Uldyssian growled, “The only thing you can offer me is a way to forget what happened!”

  “Do you truly wish to forget everything, my darling? Do you truly wish to forget me?”

  He finally managed to stop dead in his tracks. Face contorting from effort, Uldyssian retorted, “Nothing would please me more…”

  “Is that so?” Lylia’s eyes flared darkly. “Is that so, my love?”

  To his horror, Uldyssian discovered himself stumbling toward her at almost breakneck speed. His best efforts proved laughable and it suddenly came to Uldyssian that all this time Lylia had been toying with him. Not for a moment had he truly been able to stand against her power. His “birthright,” as she had called
it, was nothing more than a hollow lie.

  Her arms embraced him as he reached her. He, in turn, wrapped his own around her scaled form, the quills running down her back stabbing his flesh. Her body was a furnace, yet so very soft in the places that mattered. Uldyssian felt his lust rise up to do battle with his repugnance.

  “Let us kiss and see how much you wish to forget,” Lylia mocked.

  He could do no less than obey. His body reacted with a passion he could not quell.

  No! Uldyssian shouted in his mind, even as he and Lylia pressed against one another. No! I won’t become hers again!

  A sharp pain in his lower lip made him wince. She had bitten him. Uldyssian felt her tongue taste the blood and the action caused him to shiver.

  Lylia finally pulled back. Her expression said it all. She knew that while part of him was utterly disgusted, another was entirely under her domination.

  The demoness chuckled. Uldyssian experienced a sense of foreboding—

  A tremendous force struck him full, sending the human flying through the air as he had once thought he had done to Malic’s Peace Warders. Uldyssian let out a cry as he soared among the trees, certain that he would hit one.

  However, despite the odds so against him, he did not so much as graze a limb. Instead, Uldyssian finally dropped to the ground, tumbling hard and rolling several yards farther. Every bone felt as if it was breaking, every muscle shrieked. When the son of Diomedes finally came to a rest, he could not even so much as move a finger.

  However, despite the distance Uldyssian had flown, he immediately sensed Lylia’s presence close by. Sure enough, she loomed over him but a breath later.

  “The great Uldyssian, changer of worlds! I think you understand now just how great you truly are…”

  “D-Damn…” was all he could say, his lungs still pleading for air.

  “Still defiant?” She knelt down, giving him, despite the darkness, a very close look at her charms. “A worthy trait, sometimes…”

  He could do nothing when she kissed him again. Well aware of his conflicting emotions, Lylia stretched it out longer than the last.