The Hungering Saga Complete

by Heath Pfaff

  Light was streaming in through the holes burned in my cloak, and I saw Malice skidding free of the terrible ring of raining death. I managed to break from the circle of descending blue before the greatest portion of it fell. Even as I came clear, I scrambled to tear off my sizzling cloak that was covered in the blue fire. My left arm was not responding to me any longer. I ripped my cloak free and tossed it aside, and saw, to my horror, the remnants of my left arm fly with it, a charred and bloody tatter of flesh and melted bone. My arm had been dissolved all the way to the shoulder. My entire left side was covered in burns of differing severity, most not from direct contact but just light touches of the liquid fire.

  I looked back and watched the last of the Blue dissolve under his own flames. The mess flowed like liquid off the back of the giant black drake, which barely seemed to notice that anything had happened at all on top of its back. I slumped to the back of the drake, tried to brace with my left arm which was no longer there, and fell flat on my face. I was exhausted. My body's injuries and the constant work to heal were all taking a massive toll on me. I heard the soft steps of Malice approaching and pushed myself up with my right arm.

  Her face was locked in an expression of horror. I could guess why, but it wasn't important. She was alive. That was the only thing that mattered to me.

  "Are you alright?" I asked her, ignoring the pain that lanced through my left side.

  She nodded, her mouth hanging open.

  "Lowin, your arm . . ." She said, as though I may not have noticed the damage yet.

  My shoulder burned so badly that I wanted to break down and scream. It was simply gone. In a matter of seconds my left arm was completely gone. I saw my sword laying a few feet away and realized I must have dropped it when I dived for Malice. I stood up and retrieved it. The blade had, somehow, avoided most of the blue fire, though there were a few strange etched ridges down the length of the steel, as though some of the fire had rolled off of it. I slid the sword into my scabbard. It fit well enough, but I would need to get it a scabbard made for it eventually.

  "Lowin, your arm is gone." Malice gasped, walking towards me, her hand outstretched as though she might touch the wound and heal it. Her fingers shrank back from the smoldering flesh as she drew close.

  "It was the left one." I said, as if that made it better. I wasn't sure what else to say, or how I should feel. I didn't feel anything. There was war all about me, but I felt numb and cold. Even the Fell Beast inside of me had gone silent.

  "We have to get you to the medical pavilion as soon as. . ." She began but I shook my head.

  "I'm alright. I should be able to keep fighting. I still have my right arm. That's the one I use the most anyway." I tried to explain to her. In my head, my actions made sense, though later I would realize the absurdity of what I was saying.

  "You're not alright, Lowin!" Malice shouted. I could hear anger, and worry in her voice. I didn't understand why. My body was going into shock, and I felt dazed and confused.

  "You are badly hurt." Her voice was softer.

  Was I that badly hurt? I looked at the sizzling stump where my arm had been. It seeped blood, and smoke still faintly poured off it. It hurt, but it seemed that I could just block out the pain. I didn't have to feel it at all. I could keep fighting. I was tired, but I could fight.

  If I didn't keep fighting, what would happen to Kay and all the other who were depending on me? There were still eight drakes, including the one we were riding upon at that very moment. How could I quit the fight while I could still raise a sword and still look my daughter in the eyes later?

  "If I don't fight, Kay will die, Malice. I have to fight!" I told the green-eyed woman staring at me with so much anger and grief on her face. I saw her fists ball up at her sides and I wondered for a moment if she was going to strike me.

  "Are you stupid, Lowin? Is there something wrong with your mind? You are one man, part of an entire army. When you are injured, you can stop fighting. Others can take your place! You don't have to die senselessly to be a good man!" Malice yelled.

  "So I should rest while others die?" I answered, now angry. I couldn't understand why Malice was asking me to stop fighting. "I should lay down my sword because I'm injured, and just let men and women with families waiting for them march to their death? Is that what you think I should do?"

  The Fell Beast within me stirred at my anger. I could feel it stalking the boundaries of the darkness inside of me, pushing at my limits, testing me.

  "I want you to share the burden with the rest of us, Lowin. You are not indestructible. You can die just like the rest of us, and I don't want you to die. By all that is vile in this world, Lowin, I do not want you to die! Do you understand?!" Her voice was near manic, and there were tears streaming down her face. I didn't understand.

  "I can't stop fighting." I told her, and walked past her, heading for the head of the drake. I knew how to kill them, and I would drop one more while I could still carry a sword. Malice did not stop me, but I heard the sound of her nearly silent crying as I walked away.

  "You should leave." I called back over my shoulder. "The drakes fall hard." I fell into my forward motion, letting the world slow around me.

  Kill. . .

  Kill. . .

  Kill it. . .

  Kill them all. . .

  The Fell Beast threw itself against the boundaries in which I trapped it, eager to be free. Madness filled me. Violence drove through me, and suddenly I was awash with anger and hunger. I jumped from the black drake's body to its head, and rode the crest of its nose to its eye socket. The beast saw me coming, but didn't know what to make of such a minor threat. These large creatures weren't intelligent like the Hungering. It didn't know what had befallen the other of its kind. I charged forward, my borrowed sword held firmly in my one remaining hand.

  I awoke in pain, gasping for breath. I rolled to my knees, and stumbled over as I tried to place weight on the arm that was no longer there. The ground beneath my feet was shaking. I shook my head to clear it and saw that the great black drake I had just attacked was only a few feet away from me, crumpling into the sickeningly moist mud and blood mixture that made up the earth of the battlefield. It was dead. I guessed that I had lost consciousness when it threw me. I took stock of myself. My body ached, every muscle felt as though it had been used to the extent of its strength. I lifted my right arm, and found that I still held firmly to my new sword, though every inch of me was covered in disgusting, reeking ichor.

  I didn't recall killing the drake, and I couldn't remember how I'd gotten back down to the ground. A figure came towards me, walking through darkness, hooded and cloaked. It was Malice.

  "They're retreating!" She was calling as she drew closer, her sword still in one hand. "They're retreating, you can stop! Please Lowin, stop now!"

  "Retreating?" I said numbly, spinning about. The night was bright, the moon a shining jewel in the sky above. As the battlefield cleared of smoke I could see the massive lumbering forms of the drakes making their way westward, away from the battle. The Hungering, as well, were walking off the battlefield. Some of Lucidil's men were striking them down as they left, but they seemed not to notice. The scene put me in mind of the silver-eyed woman's story, but the details did not all fit.

  The Hungering that were leaving the battlefield still had eyes that blazed a fiery red, and there were so many of them. I didn't know how many there were, but I was certain there were more still alive than dead. Why were they leaving? Certainly they were not running away in fear. They still have seven. . . I stopped in mid thought.

  I counted the drakes once more. There were only five of the monsters leaving the battlefield. Lucidil's army must have killed two more of them. We might have won after all.

  "Please stop!" Malice was saying, and I realized I had been lost in my own thoughts.

  "If they are leaving, then I am done fighting for now." I told Malice, seeing that she was obviously concerned for my sake. I had been cruel to her
before, and I knew it. She was concerned for me, and I should have been more mindful of that. I just did not want others to die for me while I was still able to fight. I took a step towards her and found that my knees were so weak I could barely keep myself upright.

  "I'm tired." I explained to Malice, who had moved close enough for me to clearly see the look of pained worry on her face.

  "I thought that last one had killed you." She said as she ran up to me, putting my remaining arm over her shoulder. I leaned into her, not because I wanted to, but because I didn't think I could walk far on my own. "You should never have kept fighting after you lost your arm, and you certainly should have stopped after you killed that one. Each time you climbed another one, I thought I was watching you scale to your death."

  "I only killed one after I lost my arm... the one we were atop..." I whispered hoarsely, confused by Malice's discourse. Her words were not meshing with my usually sharp memory. I had killed the first one, and had to rest while my bones healed, and then I had killed the one after losing my arm. That had been all.

  Malice looked as confused as I felt. "No, you've killed four of them in total. Ethaniel said you killed the first one. Lucidil's men killed the second, and then you killed the third, fourth, and fifth in succession. I know. I've been trying to force you to stop for the last hour." Her eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright Lowin..? You truly don't remember any of it, do you?"

  It must have been the look in my eyes that told her just how little I knew. I could remember nothing after I charged the eye of the second drake. The howl of the Fell Beast filled the inside of mind, and I could almost feel the great beast stalking the corners of my consciousness. It had wrested at least partial control from me, I realized with a panic. In my pain and disorientation I had let down my barriers, and that darker side of me had broken free.

  I didn't know how to explain what had happened to Malice, so I did my best to ignore it for the time being. There were other matters that needed addressing.

  "Why are the Hungering retreating? They never retreat. Telistera told us so, and I believe she spoke the truth. They certainly haven't retreated in any of the other encounters we've had with them." I said, still trying to piece together the fragments of my memories.

  The problem was that there was simply nothing to piece together in the emptiness between charging the drake's eye, and finding myself crumpled on the ground. My mind churned over that blank spot, while also trying to make sense of the actions of the Hungering. Where were they going? What would cause them to leave a battlefield on which they were winning?

  "Perhaps we should find the commander, or Lucidil. Maybe they'll be able to shed some light on the situation." Malice suggested. It seemed as good an idea as any other. I scanned the wasted battlefield. The real problem would be finding anyone amidst the chaos.

  My shoulder, the one that had once held my left arm, hurt fiercely. A momentary remorse for my lost limb took hold. I felt diminished, and in fact, I supposed that I was. The missing limb made my center of balance strange, though it was not such a problem while leaning on Malice for support. In all my fighting it had never occurred to me that I might be maimed. Death had seemed probable on many occasions, but I had never considered the loss of a limb. I remembered the burn of the blue fire as it had bit into my flesh, and I shivered.

  "Are you alright?" I heard Malice ask. I regretted my showing of weakness. I didn't wish to make her worry.

  "I was just remembering something." I said half-heartedly. A loud pop issued from my chest, and I felt a stirring of pain as a rib snapped back into place. I took that to be the cause of the pain that had been stabbing at me every time I drew a breath.

  "Your arm may grow back." Malice offered in a way of comfort, after we had walked a while, heading in the direction of the medical pavilion. I noticed where we were going, but for once I did not feel the desire to complain.

  "Do our arms grow back?" I asked, surprised at the notion. I hadn't considered that the Knights of Ethan might be able to regrow lost limbs.

  "No. . ." She said, before quickly adding. "It hasn't happened before, but you are different."

  "Ah," I replied, not really disappointed. It would have been nice to believe my arm would come back, but I had not thought it possible, so I was hardly heartbroken.

  "You shouldn't have done that for me," Malice broke a short silence after we'd walked on a little further. There was anger in her voice again. I wasn't sure who her anger was directed at, me, or herself. "I would have . . ."

  "Died." I cut her off mid-sentence, my voice harsher than I'd meant it to be. I softened it as I continued. "You would have died. You were too far in when we realized what was happening."

  She looked across me, at the mangled shoulder that remained from the aftermath of the blue fire. It still hurt, but the skin, thanks to my healing ability, had covered over the wound, and any infection that may have tried to get in was gone. My shirt hung off of me, mostly incinerated on that side of my body. The collar of fur that ran around my neck now terminated with the stump of my shoulder. The fur there had gone pale white.

  "You still shouldn't have done it." She said again, stubbornly.

  "I guess some things are more important than an arm." I answered. It was a stupid thing to say, and conversation faltered once more. We marched back to the medical pavilion in silence.

  The pavilion, when we finally reached it, was packed full of people, and more were being brought in from the field constantly. As we approached, people stopped and stared openly. Even the Shao Geok, who were aiding in carrying the injured, stopped to look at Malice and me as we drew near. The whispers spread through the pavilion, too low for human hearing, but loud enough for my Fell Beast ears.

  ". . . say he killed more of them, and after he lost his arm, too."

  "He's an immortal."

  "His name is Noble, trained by Lucidil himself."

  ". . . the drake slayer."

  I did my best to shut out their voices, and the silent praise they felt I'd earned on the battlefield. They didn't know the darkness I bore inside of me, or the terrible, murdering impulse I'd succumbed to. What would they think of me if they did? What sort of hero would I be in their eyes if they knew that I was little better than a Fell Beast with a sword?

  Malice carried me to a bedroll, and I collapsed upon it with relief. The others in the tent, even though it was frightfully crowded, gave us space. Malice lay down at my side, and I could see that she too was tired. We had fought for a long time. Even the Knights of Ethan couldn't fight forever without a rest, and the more we used our abilities, the faster we wore our energy. It had been days since we'd slept, and we had seen much fighting since then.

  Sleep came upon me almost before my eyes had the chance to close. I dreamt of fire.

  "Lowin, it's time to go." A soft voice cut through my sleep and I opened my eyes to the world once more. The medical pavilion was quiet, but for the few people who were working on dismantling the tent. The injured, and most of the medics, had left while I slept. The dead, I guessed, had been taken away and buried. I wondered if Uin Delmor had been among those. I was certain he had. I reached down to my sword, letting the fingers of my right, and now only, hand touch the leather of the hilt.

  "Lowin?" The soft voice again. I turned my head and saw Malice kneeling over me. Her hand was on my chest. I reached out and took her hand in mine, the claws of our Fell Beast features intertwined for a moment. Malice stood, pulling me up with her. My body didn't hurt any longer, but my arm was still gone. There was no longer any pain in the shoulder.

  "How long have I been out?" I asked as I rose from the bed mat upon which I'd slept.

  "You've been asleep for the better part of the day." The green-eyed warrior replied. She handed me a bundle she'd had tucked under one of her arms. "I took the liberty of finding you some new clothes."

  I took the bundle from her. There was a shirt and cloak, though the cloak was only of standard black fabric, not a
Lucidil cloak as I was accustomed to wearing. I looked down at the one I was dressed in, and saw that the fabric was in tatters, and that the magic of the cloth seemed to have faded. Though the edges were still translucent and the fabric attempted to shift and change colors based upon my surroundings, the effect wasn't dramatic. Even the cold seemed to bite through the once impervious cloak. Of course, I realized that it might just be the numerous holes allowing the chill air through.

  I attempted to change, and quickly discovered that I wouldn't be able to undress and hold on to my clothes at the same time. I handed them back to Malice, who looked chagrined as she realized the problem I was having.