Born of the Phoenix

by Forrester, David Murray

  Overwhelmed with fear the cleric tried to scramble away; his legs were not obeying his commands and his attempt to flee was a pathetic failure. The reptilian beast dropped the captain and seized Ashmere ripping apart and devouring his soft flesh with a ravenous hunger.

  Using a destructive spell Matearla tore the entrance to the holy temple asunder. There was a mighty crash as the decorated doors and carved pillars were brought to ruin. Osrown had been talking to a cloaked acolyte in front of a great statue of the goddess Delenair. His eyes awash of indifference as Matearla approached him mounted atop Musala. The hideous beast spat the captain at his feet. He had suffered horrendous blood loss but there was life yet within him, a sturdy man as he was.

  “Cleric Osrown I presume, taking refuge in your temple while your stronghold falls to ruin, such a brave and honourable leader,” Matearla dismounted and turned to address the acolyte, “excuse us if you don’t mind but we need to have a few words in private.” A blast from her staff sent the young man flying across the room; his bones shattering upon impact with the stone wall.

  “You know for so called witch hunters your men are not very strong, are they?”

  “Not compared to a witch of your power, no, they’re not,” humbly Osrown clasped his hands together, “have you come to extract vengeance upon me for burning the members of your coven?”

  “The members of my coven?” Matearla struck him in the face with her staff sending him reeling to the floor. “No, I killed them myself, and I was thinking of killing you as well,”

  With his back to her Osrown arose with a smile. It was not often he suffered pain, and he liked it. The taste of blood in his mouth, the violence of combat exhilarated him.

  “You’re an enemy of mine, a nemesis I thought, but you’re actually too weak to be my nemesis,” Musala was restless, eyeing off the boys corpse across the room. “Yes, yes go eat him,” said Matearla and the reptilian beast hurried over to enjoy its meal.

  “You’ve actually killed several witches that I quite disliked saving me the arduous task of doing it myself, so I might let you live depending on what information you’re able to give me,”

  “Information about what?”

  “Not what, but who. A witch called Akella Terrifos.”

  “Why do you need information about her?”

  Again Matearla knocked him to the floor with her staff, blood dripping from his mouth. “I said answer questions, not ask them.”

  This was getting more interesting for Osrown. So the witch is hunting the fire birds too, she must have found out some information that one of them was burned at the stake here, well, supposedly burned alive when in fact she was being imprisoned and tortured.

  “I don’t have any information about Akella,”

  “Then you are of no use to me,” the staff began to glow with a dull light as she prepared to take his life.

  “But I can give you her sister Crystal.”

  The light faded. “Her sister?”

  “I have her imprisoned in the dungeons below.”

  “Don’t play games with me Osrown.” She struck him again. This time there was the unmistakable sound of his nose breaking. “I know that one is dead, that’s how I knew to come here, you think I’m stupid enough to walk down into your dungeon? Not that it will do you any good, you’d be a fool to think you can imprison me.”

  “She did burn on the pyre, but she survived. The Terrifos’s are terribly powerful. In her weakened state I was able to take her captive. I kept it secret from the people because I did not want them to fear her, to think she was invincible.”

  Matearla stood over him. He sat prostrated before her, blood dripping from his nose. “I swear it on Delenair’s light.”

  “I suppose you’re too weak and cowardly to lie to me aren’t you. I’m actually disappointed that you haven’t lived up to your reputation.” Matearla stepped away from him. She had heard so many tales of Osrown the mighty, more like Osrown the mighty coward. “Go on, get up then. Take me to her.”

  Behind the temple was the passage leading underground into the dungeon. Flaming braziers lit the dark corridors. With her heightened witch senses Matearla could feel the presence of a terrible evil and wondered exactly what manner of beasts Osrown keeps imprisoned in the depths. The further she descended an intense foulness seemed to surround her, like the weight of an ageless and terribly powerful soul. If this was Crystal’s aura then she didn’t doubt at all her ability to endure and survive the pyre. Matearla began to feel humbled by its awesomeness.

  “She’s in here,” Osrown handed her the key and stepped away, “I will not step foot in there.”

  “You damn coward.” She snatched the key, pushed the cleric aside and unlocked the aged and rotting wooden door.

  The room stank of excrement and blood. The floor was in a state of vile squalor; caked with blood and gore. Crystal was crucified to the wall, her skin flayed. Implements of torture were impaled through her body. A shallow rasp of breath escaped her lips as she endured the horrific atrocities. Her beauty had been stripped away reducing Crystal to a hideous and wretched thing.

  Witch torture. Matearla knew it all too well. The hypocritical piety of men who claim to be all holy and banish evil in the name of righteousness act with no benevolence committing unspeakable acts of cruelty, it was an abomination.

  “So this is your true nature is it,” Matearla confronted Osrown who slowly backed away from her. “You’re like one of those cowardly kids who gets bullied so you go torture animals in the forest.”

  “Witches must atone-“

  Matearla struck him down with savage fury.

  “You fucking clerics are pathetic.”

  “I do not fear death for you’ll only be sending me to Delenair’s warm embrace.”

  “Well then, the goddess awaits.”

  Unleashing wrathful vengeance Osrown was obliterated by a devastating spell that tore his body apart in an explosion of blood and shook the very foundations of the dungeon. When the dust cleared a dread fell on Matearla as a mighty aura of malevolence brought a crushing weight down upon her spirit force. Osrown was not vanquished, but instead hovered before her in his reaver form. The powerful aura she had sensed as she descended into the dungeon was not Crystal’s at all, but Osrown’s. It was a diabolical ruse; a gluttonous reaver playing a cleric. No wonder he had to hide his aura above. Now she was in his lair. There was no doubt in her mind that he would try to consume her soul.

  “It must have felt intoxicating to feel so powerful and in control. Breaching and conquering a cleric’s stronghold single handed, such a feat for a lone witch.”

  “I could say the same to you,” she stood undaunted by his transformation, “how many years have you deceived these fools with your cunning guise, you must have enjoyed quite a feast in that time, too bad it ends now.”

  “Ends?” Osrown moved towards her, “nothing will end, not even your life, for now, you’ve already seen a glimpse of your future.”

  “Don’t underestimate my power! I will not end up like that wretched creature in there!”

  “No you will not, you’ll die much sooner, you’re not strong enough to endure the suffering I have afflicted upon Crystal, she’s not actually a witch you know. The girls you hunt are surangi who carry within them the blood of Fe’anorr.”

  “The phoenix god…”

  “Oh they are wonderfully divine! I can torture them as much as I please and just before they succumb to death I can resurrect them in fire and their bodies are whole again ready for a new round of torment.”

  Torture, Matearla utterly refused to succumb to it; that would not be her fate. She unleashed her most powerful spells against the reaver to shatter the bonds of his ethereal body. They came to naught for Osrown was an ageless entity who long ago transcended the pain of earthly magic. Only unworldly powers could harm his being and Matearla possessed none of that power.

  The witch became consumed by his horrific miasma falling to her knee
s in utter agony as her mind was devoured by madness. From the darkness the wraiths came, snatching up their master they freed her from the miasma. She recovered quickly and arose to face her foe. Desperately she needed to find a way to defeat him.

  There was a great wailing of ghostly voices; the walls of the dungeon began to tremble. Osrown held out his arms as his body became illuminated with a strange aura. All the souls from the soldiers Matearla had slaughtered came rushing down the dark tunnels and circled Osrown before being sucked inside his body. This was Matearla’s opening and while Osrown absorbed the souls she bore down upon him with her staff.

  It was a brave attack, yet futile. Osrown raked his claws across her flesh tearing gaping wounds upon her chest. He seized her and with his dark powers rendered her body numb and useless. The wraiths not daring to challenge the power a reaver abandoned their master and fled into the void. Defeated, he locked her unconscious and bleeding body in a putrid cell. He would have his fun with her later.

  As Osrown emerged from the dungeons he returned to his human form. A small group of reinforcements were securing the partially destroyed temple having chased away the gekhorn by piercing it with many arrows. The wounded beast had scampered over the stronghold walls, escaping into the surrounding forest.

  “Lord Osrown!” the soldiers rushed to him, “are you alright my lord? What happened to the witch?”

  “She is vanquished,”

  “He did it! Our lord did it!” the men cried out in victory and cheered, holding the cleric in great esteem for defeating such a dreadfully powerful adversary.

  “Captain Dogridge is gravely wounded my lord, he has been taken to the healers. We do not yet know the number of dead we suffered in this attack.”

  “You have done well commander,” Osrown placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, “well enough to become a captain yourself.” The commander’s eyes lit up with the thought of his promotion. “There is much that needs doing now, I will leave it in your capable hands, Captain.”

  “Thank you my lord!” The newly ranked captain beaming with pride turned to his men and began issuing them orders to set the stronghold to rights.

  The loss of life was nothing to Osrown. Once the surrounding villages heard of the attack they would send men and aid to Belderra. Matearla had succeeded only in heightening his reputation as a heroic Cleric, and of course, supplied herself as another play thing to be tortured and consumed.

  Chapter 18

  The storm having unleashed its savageness now fell as a light rain upon the mountainside. Dim rays of morning light entered the crumbled cavern through jagged cracks in the ceiling which also allowed water to trickle inside. It had been an uncomfortable night on the cold stone. Patsy rubbed her sore limbs and arose to find Ajaxon already hard at work. Having explored the wreckage and found the entrance to the cavern completely obstructed by fallen debris he had collected what supplies he could from amongst the rubble. There was little to salvage, their survival was going to depend on his resourcefulness and proficiency as a warden. When everyone had roused from their sleep he called the group together.

  “I’m afraid our situation is quite dismal, the entrance to the cavern is blocked which gives us only one option for getting out of here, we have to travel through the caves and find a way to reach to the surface.” With the weight of those words came a heavy burden, the responsibility of their lives was in his hands. There are ageless monsters that dwell in the depths of the mountains; he could well be leading the group to their deaths.

  “Travel into the caves, such madness!” Lord Wilson detested the thought, “we should stay here and wait for rescue.”

  “And who’s going to rescue us?” Ravage was loathe to travel through the mountain but truly there was no other way, “we’ll run out of food sitting around here waiting to be saved, for all we know the whole side of the mountain could lay in ruin.”

  “Ravage is right, if we linger here we will exhaust not only the meagre amount of food we have but our strength also, we would wither away. People close to death become desperate and violent, it will not end well for any of us.”

  The depravity of men close to death; Ajaxon knew it all too well. His years serving in the Vaneshian army had bore him witness to a contemptible side of humanity that should not exist. Appalling immoral atrocities had branded themselves as haunting memories in his mind, when they surfaced from the depths of his consciousness then the nightmares he longed to forget plagued him. Yet all these horrors only served to strengthen his inner resolve; the ascension of his virtue. Refusing to succumb to wickedness his sword was one of honour and valour.

  The dread of the caves was a transparent shadow on Lord Wilsons face. Ajaxon’s logic was sound; it was their best hope for survival. “Then I fear we must enter the caves,” he stood tall as he made his announcement, “you should lead us Ajaxon, as a warden you are the most skilled in this area.”

  Ravage thought the man an imbecile yet withheld the insults that lingered on the tip of her tongue.

  A massive steel door was all that lay between them and the darkness beyond. It was built to protect to the travellers resting in the cavern, guarding them against any horrible beast that came prowling from the depths. Six steel rods locked the door in place. They were stiff with age, Ajaxon struggled to release them but with great effort the door was finally unlocked. It was of substantial weight moving slowly as Ajaxon swung it open. Deep gauges and claw marks littered the back of the door from centuries of beasts trying to claw their way through. If the claws could damage solid steel so badly Ravage hated to think what they could do to living flesh.

  Ajaxon was the first to pass through. He held his flaming brand aloft as Ravage and Patsy entered followed by the others.

  “We have to stick together, no one goes wandering off and only use one torch for every three people, we don’t have much wood and if we’re not careful we could find ourselves in utter darkness.” As Ajaxon turned to lead the group there was a snarl from the darkness, before the veteran warrior could draw his blade a beast was upon them.

  With incredible strength the creature knocked both Ajaxon and Ravage to the ground as it rushed past them. Indiscriminately it chose its victim plunging clawed fingers through one of Lord Wilson’s servants. With a powerful grip it seized the frightened man and as quick as it had appeared the beast fled back into the darkness with its prize, the terrified screams of the man grew fainter as he was carried off.

  They were all in shock. Ajaxon had not suspected that they’d be attacked so quickly after entering the caves. Lord Wilson was terrified and fled back inside the safety of the cavern with his remaining servants and soldiers.

  “That creature came out of nowhere.” Ravage was at a loss. The beast’s movement had been terribly fast. If other creatures with such speed and strength assailed them their survival was highly improbable.

  Once inside the cavern Lord Wilson’s soldiers heaved the massive door closed and sealed it shut with the steel bars.

  “That son of bitch has locked us in here!” Patsy fumed as she stormed towards the door.

  Ravage seized her by the arm. “Don’t. We can’t afford to make any noise otherwise more of those things will come, let the fucking coward die in his tomb, one of his men will probably kill him before the end anyway.”

  “But what are we going to do? They took all the food!”

  “I have some packed.” Ajaxon was furious yet did not allow his emotions to show nor cloud his judgement. He understood why they wanted to return to the cavern but locking the door behind them was a shameful act of cowardice. “I didn’t trust them enough to give them all the supplies but I didn’t think they’d betray us so quickly.”

  “You expected them to betray us?”

  “It’s going to be a hard road through the mountain, I didn’t see courage in any of those men and I knew at some point something was going to happen.” As the torch light played upon his face the girls saw hope in his eyes, he had not yet abandoned
their chances. “I actually think this is better for us, we have a much better chance of coming out of this alive without them.”

  “You’re right about that.” Ravage felt the others would have been a hindrance and a liability. She was actually glad she wouldn’t have to listen to Lord Wilson blabber on with his nonsense anymore. Ravage and Patsy had always been a powerful duo and with the addition of Ajaxon that duo was now a trio; and a trio was much superior. In her heart she knew Ajaxon was a perfect addition and there was something deeper growing within.

  “Take this,” Ajaxon handed the flaming brand to Patsy and drew his sword. “You light the way, Ravage and I will deal with whatever comes at us.”

  Patsy nodded. Ravage drew her sword; her spear lost in the debris within the cavern. Patsy had also been separated from her bow; constantly losing weapons was not in any way agreeable.

  They moved silently and kept close together as they walked along the passageways, their footsteps resonating amongst the desolate stone. The darkness of the caves was all encompassing, the air heavy and moist. Patsy ran her hands across the smooth surface of the passage wall, small particles of crystal sparkled in the light from the torch in a dazzling array of colour.

  Much to Ravage’s surprise the first few hours passed without incident. They had heard strange noises and the terrifying echo of growling beasts rising from the depths which brought a feeling of dread and unease upon them but they had thusly remained unassailed.

  “Look at that,” Patsy said as a dim light ahead of them gave her hope that they were close to finding their way back to daylight.

  “It’s not quite bright enough to be daylight,” Ajaxon was right. The trio found themselves in a small cavern with a ceiling covered in glow worms, the tiny creatures hanging from intricate silk threads. Water trickled into the cavern from several cracks in the rock and flowed into a deep pool in the caverns centre. It was damp in the cavern, the air heavy with moisture, thick mosses grew in dark patches across the floor and walls.