Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle

by J. R. Lawrence

  Maaha waited a moment, and then kicked him hard in the side. “Get on your feet!” she screamed impatiently.

  Dril’ead curled away with renewed pain, gasping for the lost air. He looked angrily up into the glowing eyes of the witch, the light of the chasm casting a forbidding shadow over her features. Cruelty was all that he saw in her hateful gaze. She felt nothing for the doomed Vulzdagg, a name that she ever grew to hate, and would express no mercy unto him.

  He forced himself to roll onto his stomach as he tried to stand, but came only upon his hands and knees; the burning pain in his chest proving too much for his weakened mind. Maaha grabbed him by the arm and lifted him roughly to his feet, and he groaned again and fell back against the wall. She then shoved his swords into his hands.

  “Now go!” Maaha commanded, and pushed Dril foreword to stumble across the stone floor, eyes barley open, toward the red light before them.

  There came a roar, followed by something slamming against a nearby wall, rattling the whole citadel and causing a slab of stone to break from the ceiling and smash into pieces upon the ground. The Fextogar came round the edge of the chasm, rushing and swinging the flaming hammer, roaring as its victory was already won.

  Dril’ead only had a second to react to the charge demon. His mind was so distracted by the ensuing pain in his body as the hammer swung round in an upwards arch, but he jumped back in time to dodge the mighty swing, and the hammer suddenly changed direction as it fell from above to crush him as he stood beneath.

  Dril rushed forward and slid on his knees between Fextogar’s legs. Behind the demon Dril got to his feet and spun round to face its backside even as it arched over, the hammer slamming into the ground and splitting the stone where he had stood only seconds before.

  Dril’ead’s head was swimming, his surroundings seeming to blend into one another, making everything look as if it were all different colors of paints meshed into one. And then there was the burning light, and its unbearable heat.

  The demon turned round as it backhanded Dril’ead where he stood in bewildered pain, and The Follower collided heavily against the far wall like before. The demon charged and leapt into the air with its hammer waving above its head, and Dril’ead glancing upward from where he slumped only to see it come down.

  And then the hammer fell.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vision of Warning

  Gefiny jumped foreword from her bed where she was asleep only seconds before, her fists clenched and her jaw tight. For a moment she was in shock, and then her head fell into her palms as she wept for fear of what she had seen in her vision.

  The bedroom door opened as her father, Vaknorbond, entered. “I heard you cry,” he said in a calming tone.

  “I had a horrible nightmare,” Gefiny said through her sobs.

  “Tell me,” Vak said, sitting beside her on the bed.

  Slowly, Gefiny stopped her weeping and took a deep breath. Looking up she said, “I dreamt of a bright cavern. It glowed with a painful light that tore at my eyes. From this light came a great hand and it took me as I stood in fear unable to move. I was taken, and I saw the face of it… I saw the face of the great Urden’Dagg! It laughed at my fear, and in its flaming eyes I saw my brother…” Here she broke off into crying again, more heavily.

  Vak was very interested, and disturbed. He put his arm around his daughter to comfort her. “You saw Dril’ead?” he asked in low voice.

  “Yes,” Gefiny gasped, “I saw him… beneath the feet of the witch of Zurdagg.”

  She stopped her crying and looked her father firmly in the eye, anger burning deep within her. “He was dead.”

  *****

  “What?” Leona’burda exclaimed as she jumped to her feet.

  “That is what she said,” Vaknorbond said with a calm nod as he stood before her, “Killed by Maaha Zurdagg – In a dream at least.”

  “The wrath of the Urden’Dagg is now upon Vulzdagg,” Leona said blankly, falling back upon her bed as she rubbed her temples. “We are doomed.”

  “I say we send soldiers to Dril’ead,” Vaknorbond said. “I will not take any chances of losing him. Not now. Not like this.”

  “It is too late,” Leona said with despair. “It is far too late.”

  “Are you suggesting that we leave him to die?”

  “I’m stating that it would be foolish for us to go against the will of the Urden’Dagg.”

  “What?” Vak exclaimed in disbelief. “Now you turn the Urden’Dagg and all its glory and power against me! If you won’t try to save him, I will. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “You will leave and bring a curse upon us all!” Leona cried, rising again, her eyes wide with frustration.

  “There is no greater curse then that which is already upon us,” Vak hissed. “Zurdagg was destroyed, or so we thought. Maybe it is because it wasn’t fully destroyed that the Urden’Dagg is upon us, or maybe it is because we destroyed it!”

  “So go than!” Leona said, “Finish the deed!”

  “I don’t need your permission,” Vaknorbond growled. Then he turned and departed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vulzdagg’s Rescue

  The hammer stopped in midair, hovering just above Dril’ead’s broken body as he looked up at its burning edge. So close, and yet so far from ending his life in the Shadow Realms – ending the nightmare that had become of seeking to end of rule of another more powerful than he. Could he have gone back perhaps it would be different? Or would it be the same, ending with him lying between the hammer and anvil of Doomstriker himself? He had killed Deotuer, Grulad the Master Mage, and his hands were still stained with their mingled blood. Maaha, the witch of lies and deceits, was right about him. He was like a wild beast. Nothing more, nothing less; simply born to kill.

  The hammer, though, didn’t drop upon him.

  Confused, Dril’ead turned his eyes toward the archway. Atop the pile of fallen bricks stood a mage dressed in the brown and green robes of Vulzdagg, a hand outstretched toward the demon now frozen in place.

  “Run, my noble master!” the mage shouted at him.

  Dril’ead rolled out from below the hammer and went for the archway where the mage stood, limping and stumbling, the world spinning as the excitement of a second chance to live took hold upon his mind. But as he made for his escape, Maaha cried out in furry and threw a ball of fire into the mage, blasting him from the bricks.

  Dril’ead, though he saw his savior be blown away, did not stop running. He scrambled up the stones toward the exit.

  Maaha screamed a spell, and from the depth of the chasm arouse a thousand flaming goblins, spirits of the Lesser Realms, armed with swords that gleamed red with fire.

  The demon broke the barrier and its hammer slammed into the ground where Dril’ead once lay, the ceiling above it crashing down as that side of the chamber collapsed. It turned upon Dril as he ran, and pursued after the limping creature with heavy footsteps that shook the citadel.

  As Dril scrambled across the pile of broken stone and stalagmite, the demon crossing the distance between it and him with each heavy step, a dart struck him in the thigh. His right leg immediately went limp, and he fell, unable to move. The flaming goblins approached swiftly, their weapons hissing in the air and their voices shrieking in excitement, The Follower trapped before them.

  Dril’ead firmly gripped the hilt of his scimitar as he rolled onto his back, looking upon the advancing monsters as they charged across the debris. But a heavy hand clasped him by the cloak and pulled his limp body across the ruin and away from the monsters.

  Bright flashes of light followed next, evaporating fiery sprites into bursts of dust, and their shrieks of excitement turned to growls of anger as the mages of Vulzdagg charged in for retaliation. Dril’ead was thrown over the shoulder of a large mage, and carried down the cracked street of Zurdagg away from the commencing battle.

  Faxtogar roared in rage as orbs of energy came whirling in and smash
ed into it, crushing its essence and diminishing its strength. The demon threw up its arms, creating a magical barrier over the doors to the citadel, and held off the mages attacks. All goblins outside this barrier were soon overcome by the mages power and shattered or evaporated.

  “Take out that demon!” one mage commanded the others, taking control of them. “Destroy the barrier, and then focus all energy on that demon!”

  Vaknorbond suddenly came rushing up the road behind the mages. When he saw the host of fiery goblins, and the great demon holding up its magical barrier, he drew both scimitars and quickened his pace as he called to his people.

  “Followers of Vulzdagg, let us not stand idly when work is needed to be done!” he yelled.

  The mages charged forward, launching detonations into the Faxtogar’s barricade, and when the goblins saw their charge they gathered together and ran from their safe haven to meet the Vulzdagg’s in fierce battle.

  Vaknorbond cut through the faming lines and leapt over the heads of a few of the goblins, his main intent to get to Faxtogar. Once ran up a broken pillar lying on its side, braced against the side of a smashed barrack, and leapt off the end into the air. Rolling as he landed he leapt into the air a second time, driving his sword through the neck of a stunned goblin. Looking upwards he saw the demon standing over him, its barricade all that separated them.

  A goblin charged him from the side, but he ducked and spun round behind it and stuck his blade into its back. Vak turned again to the barrier and frowned in frustration. He reached forward with his blade to feel the barrier, but once it touched the invisible wall the sword grew hot in his hand and Vaknorbond pulled away, dropping his weapon to the ground in alarm. He rubbed his empty hand against his cloak to cool it.

  “You!” he shouted to a nearby mage who had just enveloped two goblins in flames. “I need your magic!”

  The mage ran to his master’s side and stood, warily watching the demon. But Faxtogar only stared down at them, making no move to attack.

  “He is of no danger at this moment,” Vak assured the mage. “Now, you must levitate me to the first window… There!” Vak pointed to an open window above the crumbling gateway.

  “Very well,” the mage said. He faced his palms toward Vak and began chanting an incantation, and Vak felt himself lifted from the ground.

  At first he was frightened and feared the mage would drop him. However, after he gained some distance from the ground without so much as a shudder in the air, he gradually became comfortable with the sensation of floating. He looked into the demons face as he floated level with it, and Faxtogar scowled at The Follower hovering before it, growling a deep grumble. It held its position, though, and didn’t attack Vaknorbond as he floated easily upwards, mocking the demon with his own glare.

  Vak took his gaze away from the devil and looked toward the window, now less than ten feet away. He glanced down at the mage who lifted him and felt a shiver go up his legs and to the tips of his fingers, the hairs on his neck standing on end. The fall – if he fell – would be far, and the impact at the bottom very painful. It was then that he was jerked sideways, a goblin hitting the mage while he was occupied with Vaknorbond.

  The mage, however, was not yet defeated. He quickly regained Vaknorbond with a few commanding words. Then, and before any harm could befall him, the mage called up a circle of flames to protect both himself and Vaknorbond.

  The Lord of Vulzdagg had been slapped against the stalagmite side of the tower, spun about a moment, and then was pulled back in place by the mage. Vak decided he had had enough of floating after that, and reached upward to take hold of the windowsill as he neared it. But then the earth shook as something solid smashed into the ground beneath him, and the mage was knocked off his feet by the impact of Faxtogar’s hammer as it was slammed into the earth.

  When the mage lost his footing and fell upon his back, Vak began to slip out of his magical grasp and fall downward. His fingers, fortunately, enclosed just in time on the windowsill, and he hung by one hand below the window. Hoisting himself up with a groan he pulled his chest over the sill of the window. Suddenly, and to his great fear, he felt a great force begin to pull him back.

  Vak felt himself slipping out of the window against his own strength. He turned his head round too look over his shoulder at the demon. Almost head level with the window it looked straight at him, a clawed hand pulling him back, using the force of an unseen power.

  The mage who had lifted Vak pulled himself to his feet and raised both palms toward Faxtogar. Two orbs of light smashed into the demons face under the mages commanding word, drawing it away from his trapped master, and Vak was able to regain his hold on the ledge. He pulled himself through the window and into the chamber beyond.

  *****

  Dril’ead was gently laid on a patch of sand outside the city of Zurdagg, the mage who had carried him away minutes before kneeling down beside his steaming body to examine him for any wounds. He saw the dart that protruded out of Dril’s thigh and took it gently, pulled it free, and laid both hands on the numb leg. After the mage muttered a spell the leg received its proper feeling, a slight tingling all that remained of it being there, and Dril was able to move it easily.

  “Thank you,” he said in a weary voice, struggling on the edge of consciousness, and tried to sit up but found he was too weak.

  “You must rest,” the mage told him firmly. “You’re safe here.”

  “Not if that thing destroys the mages,” Dril retorted.

  “What is that thing?” the mage said, having to ask the question.

  “A demon… she called it Faxtogar,” answered the prince of Vulzdagg. “It was summoned out of the Lesser Realm, along with those fiery goblins.”

  “A demon of the Lesser World,” the mage said aloud in wonderment. “We cannot last!”

  “We must!” Dril’ead said. He tried to stand, but his limbs answered only with pain.

  “There is nothing we can do,” the mage said to him.

  “We are The Followers. We can do anything. To die in the process of attempting something impossible, but needed else we fall, would be the greatest death a Follower could ever receive.” Dril’ead attempted to stand again, but this time the mage took him by the arm and helped him to his trembling feet.

  “Let us to battle, then,” the mage said with a grin.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Warrior at Birth

  Leona’burda stormed out of the citadel, throwing the iron doors aside. Outside the soldiers were running in mayhem, trying to get into formation as ordered by their chief commander Razarr, and when she raised a hand they all stopped and faced her in alert position.

  “The remaining Zurdagg Branch has struck out and attacked those who were returning their property,” she began. “But, in doing so, they have angered Vulzdagg and must now face the claw of the Basilisk. I order all Basilisk Riders to move out at once and attack those that appose us. We will not tolerate with such disrespect!”

  Once the order was given, the Basilisk Riders armed themselves and made ready to depart. And once all was prepared they rode out of the stalagmite walls, through the mushroom grove, and down the crack into the lower level of the Urden’dagg realm. On toward the city of Zurdagg they went with the greatest speed and stealth.

  Neth’tek watched through the window of his chamber as the Basilisk Riders departed out of sight into the darkness of the Shadow Realm. Gefiny’s hand rested gently on his shoulder as she came up silently behind him, and Neth’tek flinched and turned round to face his older sister in surprise.

  “Am I summoned…?” Neth’tek began, but choked on his words.

  “No,” Gefiny said softly, her tone surprising to Neth’tek. “Our brother is no doubt in dire danger, and so I have decided that our father’s order to me of never going into combat has expired. I am a warrior at birth!”

  “What are you going to do?” Neth’tek asked.

  “Is it not clear?” she replied with an irritated to
ne that made Neth’tek shrink back. “I’m leaving to battle beside my brother, or over his body in revenge for his life.”

  She pushed Neth’tek aside and stood at the edge of the window, looking out at the quiet city. At her side Neth’tek saw a black dagger belted to her waist, a scimitar resting there also. “I go to battle,” she said. Stepping onto the ledge of the window she took a deep breath and dropped down and out of sight.

  Neth’tek quickly returned to his position at the window and looked down after her. For a moment he thought she had disappeared completely, but then out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Gefiny slipping swiftly through the gates – unseen by the guards.

  “If only I had such skill and courage,” Neth’tek remarked to himself.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A Fated Destiny

  Limping up the road to the Mage Tower, Dril’ead saw the demon in action. It swung its hammer, ferociously destroyed the mages of Vulzdagg as they franticly threw up barriers and launched attacks that did little to the powerful fiend of the Lesser Realm. “Aim for its head!” some shouted, and almost instantly the attacks were aimed at its head until someone else shouted, “its legs! Take out its legs!” Thus the chaos was.