The Slayer

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The Slayer Page 11

by Darren Hultberg Jr


  Still, I noticed the masked man lean forward on his throne, his interest peaked. I began to motion towards him but was quickly cut off by the cackling coming from of Reynaldo.

  “Azure wardens? Give me a break! They’ve been dead for a century!” Reynaldo spat as he leveled his blades at me, despite the wound in his gut. “Now, I wanted to handle this the easy way, but this will work fine as well.” With a flick of his wrist, the three archers moved in, arrows pointed directly at my chest.

  Reynaldo showed that damned annoying grin of his again. “Now, please, won’t you lay down and die.” And with that, the arrows were let loose.

  17

  I raised my blades as the arrows made their way towards me. They were moving impossibly fast… too fast for me to block. Still, I had to try.

  Suddenly, a dark mist began to materialize in front of me. From it, appeared the masked man. With a slash of his dagger, he deflected two of the arrows, knocking them away in one swift motion. The third arrow looked as though it would find flesh, but the man’s hand shot up at the last second, plucking the arrow out of the sky! He casually tossed it to ground then raised two fingers, halting the others and their assault.

  Slowly, he turned to face me, moving his hand to his chin as he studied my posture. I chose to keep my blades raised, just in case this was some sort of game the men were playing. I could imagine hiding in the bowels of the city could grow quite boring.

  As the masked man and I stood face to face, I was surprised by his short stature. He was at least a head shorter than me, though it didn’t make him any less imposing. I tensed as he lifted his free hand and ran his fingers down the edge of my drake sword. He seemed to be admiring the weapon, caring not how easily I could slash the blade forward and remove those slender fingers of his. Maybe he was so dangerous that he had nothing to fear from me. Damnit all, what had I gotten us into.

  “I didn’t think our paths would cross like this.” The man said. His voice had this charm to it. It sounded so familiar… but where had I heard it before. Slowly, he reached up and removed his plain black mask. The face underneath had a finely trimmed goatee and a grin that was full of wit. Yes, I’d seen this face before. I was sure of it.

  “You. You’re the man form the Aether prison… you’re the other slayer!”

  “I am.” The man replied, giving me a wink. “Lower your blades, boys. We won’t be harming these three today.”

  Reynaldo furrowed his brow as a pair of storm scavengers wrapped his wounded abdomen. “What in Aether’s ashes are you talking about, Keldon?”

  “This boy.” Keldon said. “He is the one who freed me from that blasted prison. I owe him a great debt.” Reynaldo’s eyes went wide as the other storm scavengers seemingly backed off. I relaxed, dismissing nevermore into smoke and allowing Razyr to take his drake form once more. He climbed back onto my shoulder and eyed Keldon with suspicion.

  “I should be thanking you.” I added, recalling the man’s marvelous display of savagery. “What you did in that prison, well, it was,”

  “It was nothing.” Keldon said, cutting me off. “Those fools deserved it. I let my reserves of Aether run low and was caught off guard. I never should have been in that prison to begin with.” He began to walk away so I gave him a quick inspection.

  Keldon

  Shadowblade

  Lvl: 25

  Shadowblade? I thought he had said he was a slayer. Perhaps…

  Keldon spun around, a sudden look of interest appearing on his face. “What did you say your name was again, boy?”

  I had never actually told him my name, though I suppose it didn’t matter. “It’s Zander… Zander Darkblade.”

  Keldon nodded. “Zander, I heard you mention moments ago that you are an Azure warden. Please, do elaborate.”

  I could feel my cheeks grow red. I had said that in hopes of buying myself some time. Truly, I knew very little about the supposed wardens, other than what Razyr had told me. “Well, you see, I was able to bond with a familiar and so I assumed…” I trailed off, noticing the look of disappointment that was growing on Keldon’s face. Was he hoping that I was one of them?

  “Perhaps not, then.” Keldon said solemnly, finding the answer he needed in my muddled response. “You know, you gave me hope for a moment there, that the guardians had returned. It has been over a century since that last of them walked Aetheria. But they’re all dead now, buried with our gods.”

  “The world breakers….” I mouthed. Keldon gave me a silent nod.

  “They nearly took everything from us. The Aether itself had begun to dull. I thought the world was lost...” Keldon put his hand out as a deep black energy began to leave his body and pool into his palm. The energy solidified, taking the form of an imp-like creature with leathery wings and a devilish grin that matched Keldon’s. “Though it appears that some of this world’s forgotten power is returning.”

  Razyr growled at Keldon’s imp familiar, painfully digging his claws into my shoulder. The imp gave him a look, then crossed his arms and pointedly shoved his nose up into the air. Keldon let out a chuckle, then placed the imp onto his shoulder. “Don’t mind Xernese.” He said with that witty grin of his. “He’s like the most stuck up familiar in all of Aetheria.

  Keldon began to walk away, instructing a trio of his men to go gather supplies. “We’ll get you patched up while you wait out the storm.” He said, making his way towards his perch. “Oh, and I think I owe you a lesson for breaking me out kid.” He then phased away, traversing the rest of the room instantly.

  <><>

  Despite being beneath the ground, I could still hear the roar of the storm up above. After speaking with one of the scavengers, I learned that the storms occurred almost daily, though they were localized to the area surrounding the fallen god sword. A few more hours and the sky would be clear enough that we could re-supply and be on our way.

  I sat quietly on an overturned barrel, watching from afar as Hilda arm-wrestled one of the storm scavengers more burly members. The other scavengers, as well as Helena, circled the pair, hooting and hollering as Hilda asserted her dominance over the man. I couldn’t help but grin. She was a hell of a warrior.

  I felt a soft thud against my shoulder as Razyr took his usual perch. I really needed to think about getting some pauldrons to protect myself from those clawed little hands of his.

  “I don’t like him.” Razyr spat, his tone unusually angry.

  “Like who?” I asked, scratching the drake behind his ear. Slowly, his sour expression began to fade.

  “The other familiar over there. The imp.” He stared at Keldon and Xernese, who were on the other side of the room selecting weapons for our training exercise.

  “Isn’t he like you? A creature born of the Aether?”

  Razyr gave me a nasty look. “Do you enjoy… the company of all other humans?”

  Fair enough.

  “Still, Raz, they’re helping us out. The least you can do is tolerate them.” Razyr scoffed at me but his tension seemed to lessen, so I let him be.

  I sat there in silence, though something Razyr had said earlier was bothering me. He had remarked that familiars chose men that they saw worthy of their bond… men of honor and courage. The only two people that I had seen with familiars though were Keldon, a leader of a group of murderous scavengers, and Rhylor, a damned bandit. It just didn’t add up. Perhaps there was something I wasn’t seeing… or perhaps I was giving myself too much credit. I had killed, after all. Maybe I belonged in the same group as these men. Still… why did the familiars choose us?

  “Hey kid, the storm’s letting up soon. You ready?” Keldon yelled, tossing a long, wooden practice sword in my direction. I caught the sword then nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly, before following him out of the room and down the torchlit tunnel.

  “So.” I said, striding along beside him. “How did you end up in that prison?”

  His head shifted ever so slightly, just enough to give me a dark glare. “I tried
to do something noble.” He replied coldly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Keldon took a quick turn and led me down a second dark corridor that seemed to stretch on for miles. In hindsight, we only walked for a few moments before arriving in a large circular chamber built of stone and lined with at least a dozen torches. On the far end of the chamber opposite the entrance was another gate, though it was closed, hiding its contents inside.

  Keldon’s sour look had faded and he grinned, squaring off with me in the center of the chamber, holding his practice sword gingerly at his side. Both Razyr and Xernese had taken seats near the entrance, eyeing us with curiosity as we raised our weapons.

  “I can tell that your still quite new to the craft.” Keldon said, circling me, inspecting me, wooden blade raised.

  “The… craft?” I asked, holding a defensive posture.

  “Yes.” He cooed. “You and I, we are slayers. Killing is our craft, our chosen form of art. With training, a slayer can kill better than anyone else in the realm.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Slayer, eh? Then what is a shadowblade?”

  Keldon paused, seeming genuinely surprised. As an NPC, perhaps he wasn’t aware that his class information was readily available. Nonetheless, his grin quickly returned. “So, you’ve heard of them? Well, a shadowblade is an elite level of slayer. We use less grit and more than a bit of dark magic to get the job done. The end result is still the same though.” Suddenly, Keldon disappeared from sight as he phased behind me, wooden blade pressed tightly to my throat. “You want to learn this skill, no? The marquee skill of the shadowblades?”

  “Y-yes.” I replied, voice strained under the sword’s pressure.

  Keldon eased the pressure and stepped away. “That is an elite skill… a skill that will surely set you down the path of the shadowblades. We call it shadowshifting.”

  “Teach me, please.” I urged, letting go of any previous inhibitions I had.

  “I can do that.” Keldon said. “But it will be a long time before you’ve gained mastery over the skill like I have.”

  “I understand.” I replied with assertion. Keldon nodded and took several steps back.

  “Mark me with your slayer mark.” He said. I did so, and a small icon of crossed blades visible only to me appeared above his head. “Get a good look of where I’m at. Picture yourself standing behind me, blade at my throat.”

  I did so, building the image in my head mentally.

  “Now, while maintaining that image in your head, trace the shadows across the ground. Create a path from where you are standing that leads to where you want to be.”

  I traced the shadows across the stone to my destination. I could feel a tension rising in my chest, like a build-up of some sort.

  “Good.” Keldon said. “Now, channel the energy inside of you, channel it into completing the action. Will yourself forward!”

  I strained as I imagined myself behind Keldon, but my feet remained firmly planted on the ground. My hands began to shake as the pressure in my chest began to grow. “I… I can’t.” I said, sweat building on my brow.

  “Nonsense.” Keldon snapped back. “I’ve saw you fight in the prison. I’ve seen you bond with that drake of yours. I know that your body is attuned with the magicks of this world… with the Aether. Now do it, boy!”

  I refocused, envisioning my destination, tracing the shadows across the ground. I focused with everything I had. Suddenly, I felt myself moving along the shadows, gliding towards my destination. My mind began to race. Excitement began to build and my concentration broke. Out of nowhere, I rematerialized just a few feet from my original location, skidding across the stone in a jumbled heap. In the corner, I could hear the imp cackling away.

  “Very good.” Keldon said. “You got that down a lot quicker than other slayers I’ve seen. Now, just a few more days of practice and you’ll likely nail down a basic shifting.”

  I frowned. “I don’t have a few days, Kel. I need to get to Airrigar.” In truth, an extra day in Stormgard might not hurt, but I didn’t want to risk being delayed and missing Vazryn’s tournament.

  Keldon shook his head. “It takes some years to master the art of shadowshifting… and you want to learn in on a rainy afternoon?” He strolled over to the closed gate opposite the entrance. “Very well.” Keldon undid the lock and popped open the gate, then purposefully strode back over to the entrance. I foolishly stood there and watched as he slammed the entrance shut, celling another gate made of large, steel crossbars from the outside.

  Suddenly, soft moans began to appear from within the now open tunnel on the far side. Shambling creatures began to emerge from the darkness, their skin loose and torn and discolored. The creatures were like walking mounds of decay, people that had once lived but were now hollow animations of their former selves.

  The undead.

  I called forth nevermore as the first pair approached, though my eyes went wide soon after. Dozens upon dozens of undead denizens were flooding the chamber. In a panic, I turned and ran to the entrance, where Keldon stood, grinning on the opposite side of the locked gate.

  “What is this!?” I growled, giving the bars a shake.

  “You want out? He asked, casually leaning against the wall of the tunnel. “Then shadowshift to me.”

  Panicked, I tried to focus on my destination, but the moans of the approaching horde broke my concentration.

  “Damn you!” I said, slamming my fist against the gate. Then, with reluctance, I turned to face the undead horde… alone.

  18

  The undead marched in my direction, limbs outstretched, yellowed eyes with this ravenous look about them that made my skin crawl. There was a lot of these creatures… a whole lot… and they all shared a hunger for flesh.

  “You can do this.” I reassured myself, burying my anger for Keldon under layers of resolve. The first of them trudged in, a zombie several levels lower than myself, greenish skin hanging from an already cracked skull. A quick scan revealed that most of the creatures were of a mediocre power level. It was the number of them that frightened me. Still, I put my hand out, summoning nevermore into my grasp before bashing the creature with a strike that split its skull the rest of the way.

  A second zombie took its place, reaching for me with its bony fingers. I staved the creature off with a boot to the chest, then lopped off its head with a horizontal slash.

  You can do this. I thought to myself once more, though this time I really believed it.

  Another pair of undead assailants approached from either side. I shifted to my right, activating lunging strike as I propelled forward and slammed nevermore through the zombie’s eye socket. The creature stumbled back, pulling me with it as I struggled to free my blade. That damned sword was lodged in their tight!

  A searing pain shot through my side as I pulled my blade free. I shuddered away as the zombie from the left sank its teeth into the flesh covering my ribs. Angered, I bashed the pommel of my sword into the creature’s head until brain oozed out and thing fell to the ground, lifeless.

  “Oh, that is not good.” Keldon said with a mocking tone. He was watching from the other side of the gate with Razyr and Xernese on either side of him. Razyr wore a look of helplessness on his reptilian face. Damnit all, why couldn’t that drake have gotten himself trapped in here with me. I sure could use his help.

  “Get me out of here, Kel!” I yelled, staving off an approaching zombie before sinking my blade into another.

  “Get yourself out.” He barked back, now with an edge to his voice.

  More pain as a zombie that I had thought slain rose and sank his teeth into my calf. I nearly fell to the stone, but that would surely mean death. Instead, I used illusionary strike to make a brief apparition of myself and slip away, cutting down one of the undead as I fled.

  The distraction didn’t last long, and soon I had a dozen more undead stalking me down once more. They were never-ending!

  “You’re in worse shape than I though
t.” Kel quipped, leisurely leaning against the gate now.

  “What the hell are you talking about!” I yelled, racing along the perimeter of the chamber as the mob closed in.

  “I mean you’re so damn choppy with your movements. Strike. Reset. Strike. Reset. That’s not how you fight, kid. It’s how you die.”

  I tried to listen to what he was saying, but the zombies had reached me again. I used double strike, downing two of the creatures with a quick succession of vertical slashes, but it wasn’t enough. A third creature lurched forward, raking claws across my chest that tore through leather and ripped at my skin. I growled in pain, slapping the creature away with a sloppy sword strike.

  It didn’t matter. They just kept coming.

  “Stop thinking about it so much, kid! Let your instincts take over!’ Kel’s voice sounded a bit desperate.

  I backpedaled ‘til my back pressed against the cold stone wall, breathing heavily from growing exhaustion. What was left of my health bar had turned a sickly green color… affliction, more than likely. The undead were almost on top of me once more… I needed to do something! Maybe a lunging strike towards the back of the pack, then back away with an illusionary strike and… no, damnit all, this wasn’t working!

  My hands began to tremble… I cowered back. I wasn’t a warrior anymore. No, I was just frail, scared little boy in over his head. I was going to die alone in the sewers.

  “ZANDER!” Keldon yelled with ferocity, briefly grabbing the attention of the approaching shamblers. His voice echoed through the chamber, so powerful, so commanding. That name…. it was the name I had given myself when I started this journey. It was the name with which I would build a legacy on in this world. That name didn’t belong to a weak little boy. No… Zander Darkblade… was the name of a slayer.

 

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