Elemental Courage

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Elemental Courage Page 8

by M. W. McDonald


  Vincent brought his blade down hard and fast, slashing the shade in a massive swathe from neck to hip. The shade’s robe fell to the ground, its inhabitant gone. Vincent stepped forward and quickly grabbed the hilt of the shade’s jagged blade. The blade dissolved as did the empty robe. Alex had felt the edge sap his energy quickly, but now that it was gone it leveled off. Alex inhaled sharply; the pain in his shoulder brought him back from the brink of unconsciousness. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

  “You are going to want to close that wound,” Vincent said quietly as he knelt down. He was trying to feel the presence of the shade.

  “What the hell was that?” Alex said. He was tentatively feeling out the edges of his wound. “This is going to hurt worse than that damned blade.” He put his palm flat against his open wound. Flame erupted out of the other side, cauterizing it. He howled in pain. The sun was only an orange glow on the horizon now, the bright globe of hope far out of sight as the night began to take over.

  “Think we got it?” Alex asked, he already knew the answer he just didn’t like the silence.

  “Hardly, we just made it angry. It will come at us with everything it has now.”

  “What was it? It didn’t feel like any shaman I have encountered.” Alex stood up, smoke was still pouring from his new scar.

  “It was a shaman once it is called a shade now. It is a vampire of sorts, consuming essences of shaman to stay alive. It usually starts as a powerful shaman looking for power. Power finds them and destroys them, leaving behind a desperate shaman on the verge of death which makes a pact with dark, evil powers to selfishly stay alive. They allow themselves to become vessels for evil. In this case, there are vast amounts of spirits. In exchange, they are made immortal and are given twisted energies to pull from. This is a very old shade.”

  The darkness of night was almost complete.

  “You must leave now,” Vincent said quickly. Alex struggled to breathe.

  “I am in no condition to run, how do you suppose I do that?” Alex began to prepare himself for the battle that would claim his life.

  “Ah, right.” Vincent vanished in a plume of black vapors and was back in an instant dragging a man by the collar of his shirt, the man’s dark brown hair was streaked with blue and silver.

  “I think he can help you out,” Vincent said as he released his hold on the man. He got here around the same time you did and has been watching us since the beginning. You must find the other enchanters. Tell them that the Shade of Khorynn is back. If you stay and die, no one will know what happened here. Understand?” Vincent said, deathly serious. Both Alex and the silver-streaked man nodded.

  “Go now, I will buy you some time.” Alex knew full well what Vincent was planning to do.

  “Thank you, Vincent,” Alex said as he turned away.

  “Live and thank me later,” Vincent said as he drew his blades again. They were longer this time with vortexes of shadow swirling around the swords menacingly. The two men ran away from where Vincent stood. Alex struggled with his breathing.

  “Got a name?” Alex asked the man. “I’m Alex.”

  “Michael.” He replied.

  “How are we going to get out of here in time?” Michael slowed his pace and let Alex pass him.

  “Like this, and I’m sorry in advance,” Michael replied. He launched himself forward. Long silver fur exploded from his body as he shifted into his rift wolf form in mid-air. Alex looked back and saw the massive wolf where the man was just standing. His eyes grew wide. Michael lowered his head and caught Alex easily. He lifted his head quickly tossing Alex onto his shoulders.

  “Hold on.” Michael’s voice was much more commanding in his wolf form. Alex did what he was told and grabbed good handfuls of silver fur. They heard the sound of blades meeting each other as if they were right behind them. The power of their strikes echoed across the field. Alex felt the impacts even from where he was now.

  “This is going to hurt,” came a growl from the wolf. He howled and tore the air, the rift’s electrical energy crackled in front of them as Michael raced at it.

  When Michael leaped through the rift, Alex went unconscious almost immediately. His convulsing death grip on Michael’s fur was the only thing keeping him astride the bounding rift wolf. The combination of his wounds and the rift energy hit him like a boxer’s knock-out punch.

  “I’m really going to have to get better at helping people,” Michael said to himself. “Maybe I can keep the next passenger conscious next time.” He lowered his head and made his way through the rift, heading home.

  Vincent felt the energy of Alex and the other man vanish, enveloped by an explosive power, then they were both gone.

  He dodged and sidestepped from the deadly tendrils once more. The shade re-emerged from the shadows. Vincent wasted little time and struck hard and fast. Smaller blades flew from his hands, straight at the shade. The figure absorbed them within its own robe. Vincent launched himself at the shade, his blades swirling precisely. When the shadow recovered from his onslaught, he would shadow-step, vanishing and reappearing in precise locations narrowly avoiding each and every attack from the shade. He stayed ahead of its movements and landing strike after strike of his own as he strategically and surgically wore down his opponent. He attempted to shadow step away once more, but the shade learned quickly and kept up with him mirroring his maneuvers. They went through their dance over vast distances, matching each other swing for swing and blade for blade.

  “You will die someday,” Vincent said as the rush of a stronger opponent filled his veins. There was a loud clash of blades as they met once more, the impact alone shook the trunks of nearby trees. Vincent leaped back and launched another volley of knives at the monster that was quickly absorbed once again. The shade held out an arm and the same knives that Vincent just hurled, appeared in the shades hand. The hooded figure through them into the shadow at its feet then they abruptly burst from a patch of blackness just behind Vincent. He narrowly dodged, taking a couple of deep cuts on his arms and his side. He noticed the blades got reabsorbed by another shadow before they were flying at him again from another direction.

  “It is using my own powers against me. Nice trick.” Vincent felt himself slowing. His loss of blood was hindering his movements. The blades came at him again. He was about to dodge again when the knives exploded into hundreds of projectiles.

  Vincent smiled as he was bombarded by the shrapnel. They shredded his skin and his clothes. He fell to his knees, the metallic scent of blood and the warm wetness coming from his wounds in a steady flow, his muscle function was destroyed, and he was unable to move.

  The shade moved forward, its trail of shadows screamed for their well-earned meal. Vincent had never felt more exhilarated, felt more alive than in that moment. The shade stabbed Vincent in the chest with its brutally curved blade. The blade began consuming his essence immediately. The eyes of the shade narrowed as if it were smiling at him. Vincent smiled back.

  “I…have a gift for you,” Vincent said softly. He drew upon all of his power, depriving the thirsty blade.

  “Noooo!” The voices screamed in unison. “Energy…Our energy… Nooo.” Vincent’s body exploded in black energy as he became one with the world again. The final words spoken by Vincent Crezlin, father and a successful businessman came softly on the wind, goading the shade.

  “Now that was a hunt.” His passing was felt by a man in New York City, who had tears in his eyes for a reason unknown to him. He wiped them away with a purple and blue Smurf’s towel that was draped over the balcony railing.

  21

  Brian stood on the balcony of David’s apartment. He felt a tremendous sense of loss for some reason. He chalked it up to stress. He stood there overlooking the busy streets below. He felt so small, especially with recent developments of the past few days. The sun had set a few hours ago, but the city put off its own unnatural glow. He was lost in thought and didn’t hear Dyaina as she moved out next to him and
gazed out across the ever-bustling city.

  “You didn’t strike me as the brooding kind when I first met you,” Dyaina said.

  “Yea? Me either.” Brian replied. “I do surprise myself sometimes.”

  “I want to thank you,” Dyaina started. “For everything.”

  “Don’t mention it. I was actually doing a favor for David until I found out who you were.” He put a sarcastic emphasis on actually.

  “And once you found out?” Dyaina mused.

  “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t skeptical, but even the possibility of its truth made a difference. Made me work harder I think. I had so many questions I wanted to ask and get answered. I suppose that was a selfish motivator. I guess I am a groupie of sorts.” Brian chuckled. “Could be worse I suppose.” Dyaina smiled, the humor was most welcome right now.

  “What questions did you have for me? I’ll try and answer them, it’s the least I can do.” She implored him, her bright blue eyes sparkled.

  “I am afraid I would only be greeted with more questions and fewer answers.”

  “Try me,” Dyaina said. She turned around and leaned back against the railing resting on her elbows as she faced William’s futon.

  “Well,” Brian started. “I have heard all of the stories, but what exactly happened at the binding of Khorynn?” Brian had heard the story countless times, but it was far and away his favorite. Now he had the opportunity to get the truth from the source. All other questions were secondary right now.

  “Oh, that.” Dyaina’s voice took a somber tone. “How about you tell me what you know, and I will fill in the gaps.”

  “Well, I know that Khorynn was extremely powerful, some people said she was an Archmage, like William.” Dyaina nodded.

  “She was, an Archmage that is. Go on“, she said.

  “It happened 3000 years ago. The battle raged on for years, and it was said that all of the enchanters and enchantresses died to imprison her.” Brian was careful in choosing his words.

  “Not quite, if I had sacrificed myself like the other enchanters, she would have been destroyed rather than imprisoned in that giant blood ruby. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it then, and I am sure I couldn’t do it now. And another thing, don’t know where the 3000 came from, to be honest it was much further back than that.” Dyaina spoke sadly.

  “How far back?” Brian was driven by curiosity.

  “Well,” Dyaina thought hard. “It had to be closer to 4800 years ago.”

  “Damn, you’re old, gorgeous but old.” Dyaina punched him in the arm.

  “Sorry, that was rude of me but damn. “ Dyaina punched him again before she continued. “The binding was almost 4300 years ago but the 500 years before that was where the real story is.”

  “What do you mean?” Brian was all ears.

  “Most of the old ways have long since been forgotten now, but back then the shaman of other elements were expected to work together for the betterment of all. The order was always respected, and life was cherished, even by the shadows.”

  “What happened then?” Brian was wondering why mankind could have fallen so far.

  “Khorynn happened. One of her best friends had a terrible fall and ended up dying. Seems silly when you think of what shamans are capable of and that a simple fall could kill one of us. Khorynn couldn’t understand why no one would help her bring her friend back. She was always stronger than everyone else, our teacher’s included. So she took it upon herself to bring that friend back, and she succeeded.”

  “Like William did for you then?” Brian asked.

  “Yes, I suppose so. The laws back then were etched in stone. Resurrection was forbidden in any context. As shamans and enchanters, we aren’t bound by time, as my age illustrates well enough. And NO I won’t tell you how old I am.” Brian shut his mouth his question was squashed before he could ask it.

  “We are, however, supposed to be bound by life and death. Khorynn was the first person to perform a resurrection with zero side-effects within the recipient. It was heralded as an omen and celebrated at the same time. There was no getting around the law, and it was clear. Khorynn was to be killed, her essence was to be destroyed and given back to the earth. Her friend was to be sent back.”

  “She had to die again?” Brian was astonished.

  “That was the time we lived in, everything was about balance. If you come back to life, then death loses its power, and the balance is thrown off. At least that was the belief of our elders at the time. Those same elders made a very fatal mistake. They dispersed the essence of Khorynn’s best friend first. Khorynn had to feel her friend die a second time. Something inside of her snapped, and when the doors of the elder’s chambers closed for the completion of Khorynn’s sentence, there wasn’t a single person who expected anything other than the passing of the 16-year-old girl. She killed them all. She completely destroyed bodies and their souls, and she did it without making a sound. No one, including those stationed right outside of the room, where the wiser until they opened the door. The elder's heads were still in their designated chairs faces frozen in mid-word, their faces pale and bloodless. Across the white marble behind them, Khorynn had left a note in their own blood. It read:”

  You wouldn’t help, so I did it. You killed her again. Now I will kill all of you. Your world will burn.

  “Wow, creepy,” Brian said. “She was only 16?”

  “Yes, the age that a shaman’s essence matures in women is 16. Men can’t control it until they are 18. One of the rules.” Dyaina paused and then continued. “My father was one of the elders, his name was Deganay Vrastal. I focused on all of my studies, rising through the ranks of the shaman until there was no one else within my element to rise above. I became the first enchanter of water. My life was focused around Khorynn, around finding her and making her pay. This yearning for vengeance changed me perhaps for the worse, but without it, I would probably be a lowly shaman still. No offense.” She said quickly.

  “None was taken,” Brian said.

  “Khorynn took her time, she destroyed countless shamans. She hunted them down incessantly. The shamanic population dropped by the thousands in the first century alone. Our entire culture was being destroyed by one woman.”

  “After nearly 250 years, the destruction just stopped. People thought she might have moved on, or simply gotten bored. We found out much later that she had fallen in love with another enchanter of shadow. She was even with child, but the damage she had done had outweighed any possible hope for a new life for her. She would always be hunted by the friends and children of loved ones she had slain. One day it happened. Two enchanters, one of fire and the other earth, stumbled across the modest cottage on the far east end of Antarctica.”

  “Wait, Antarctica?” Brain asked, hand scratching his head. He wasn’t sure if this was a joke and he knew jokes.

  “Yep, Khorynn forced us to all corners of the world, but before that Antarctica was actually our homeland. We lived behind a veil of sorts that allowed us to separate our existence from the rest of the world, as to not influence its development. Much like the rift is another world, our veil was a lush world that just happened to be accessed through a barren arctic landscape. The battle of the binding ravaged its entirety and tore the veil to pieces. She tore apart our world, and we were forced to live upon the earth with regular humans. She forced our remaining people into hiding.” Dyaina’s voice was saddened by the memories, but she still continued. “Anyways, the two enchanters found Khorynn’s child and husband at home, without her to help protect them. The husband fought to his last breath, but he wasn’t a match for two wicked enchanters. They were twisted by hate and consumed by their need for vengeance.” Dyaina let the words sink in. “They killed both her husband and her child, and they left them for her to find.”

  “I take it, she found them,” Brian asked rhetorically.

  “She came home two nights later and saw the scorched earth and rubble of her broken, smoldering home. Her husband l
ay dead with their child in his arms, lifeless. The blackness and devastation in her scream tore the land apart. She brought her husband back, but he was different now. She had become so tainted by her actions, that a true resurrection was no longer possible. He came back with no memory of who she was, all he could remember was what she had done, he remembered that she had killed thousands. He saw the dead child, not realizing it was his, and assumed she had killed it. She was forced to destroy her own husband in a twisted version of self-defense.”

  “What about the child?” Brian was riveted.

  “Khorynn was devastated, she didn’t want the same thing for her child. So instead, she made a pact with the shadows for her child’s life. She allowed it to become a vessel of destruction in exchange for life once more.”

  “She would do that to her own child?” Brian was disgusted. “She turned her own child into a shade?”

  “It was different from a typical shade, normally a shade is a body that is possessed by a single evil spirit. Because Khorynn’s power was so immense, she infused her child with hundreds if not thousands of spirits. As time went on, it became known as the Shade of Khorynn.”

  “What about the two enchanters that killed them?” Brian asked Dyaina shook her head.

  “You can bet she found them. The methods of their destruction were used to scare disobedient children for years. Suffice it to say that they suffered a great deal before she fed them to her child, the shade. She hid her child away, and to this day we don’t know if it’s still alive or even what gender her child was. What followed was so destructive that we gave it the name, “The Black Era.” Khorynn was bent on destruction. Her anger was renewed. She destroyed entire lands out of spite. She obliterated everything and anything with the most powerful display of elemental conjuration ever seen. Tsunamis drowned islands never to be seen again, Tornados of black flame devoured forests and their sapping energies left behind the most barren deserts. She triggered massive whirlpools of churning earth that consumed the very essence of the planet. The waves of elemental energy poured from her like a never-ending tsunami of pain and rage. She sent out waves from our homeland that tore off chunks of ice and earth and crashed those pieces into other continents. She shaped the earth as she saw fit. Destruction just radiated from her in every direction.” Dyaina turned back around and gazed down at the streets, distracted by a nearby siren that quickly trailed off then continued again.

 

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