by Rex Hazelton
"NO! NO! NO!" Scytholar's high-pitched, breathy voice shouted. "This can't be. A human is no match for my children, not unless he is endowed with some kind of magic."
That was the moment the Hag guessed the ambient mystical power he was feeling wasn't coming solely from Horbyn. Maybe that's why the man's wounds are so superficial? He reasoned. Only traces of blood were seen in the few places where the jacket and pant's leg had been cut as Travyn fought the pair of hunchmen.
"At'Jak," Scytholar called out to the Shadowman, "Please put an end to this travesty."
Indeed, it was a travesty. Four of his creations had been easily dispatched by a single human. What would Ab'Don say if he found out? Worse yet, what would he do? As far as Scytholar was concerned that wasn't going to happen because neither Horbyn nor his companions would be allowed to leave this place alive, not if the tales they could tell would bring the disappointed Sorcerer's wrath down upon Hag.
In tune with the dark wizard's thinking, At'Jak knew that the strangers would have to be killed for what had happened. But before the others were put to death, the Shadowman had a bone to pick with the man who slew his prized pupils, not because he wanted revenge for the crossbreeds' deaths, but because his pride needed to be placated. And spilling the stranger's blood would do just that.
Unaware of the breadth of Travyn's abilities, the Shadowman was going to make quick work of the upstart until Scytholar gave a warning, "Beware. A measure of magic has been given to him."
The sound of thunder and a strong gust of wind accentuated the warning.
Instead of worrying At'Jak, the information simply made him rethink his approach to the fight. He too had magic. It came in the sword the Sorcerer had given him to protect Scytholar and the venture he ran. With the talisman made of steel in hand, not only was his strength and speed increased, his senses were heightened too. While having more than a good reason to be confident, the Shadowman was not foolish enough to dismiss the Hag's warning.
With the two Thrall Giants communicating with their eyes in a way that seasoned warriors did, Travyn stepped over the lifeless bodies whose motionless forms unwillingly paid homage to his passing. The blood dripping from his blades fell into the pool of red that slowly expanded across the bed of smooth stones the slain hybrids lay upon, a pool that scattered rain drops enlarged as they splashed into the sticky stuff.
Catching Lamarik's eyes with his own, Travyn was moved more than he expected to be by the approving smile the Neflin sent his way.
A wry smile crossed his faced as he realized Lamarik had done what the four beast-men had failed to do, she had broken through his defenses and conquered him. But his defeat didn’t kill him entirely, it only slew that part of him that inherently resisted commitment.
Seeing his brother was succumbing to the fixation he had with the Neflin female, though the lightning flashing inside the huge thunderhead that slunk ponderously their way should have destracted Travyn from the luxury he now imbibed in, Kaylan cleared his throat in an exagerated way that snatched Travyn out of his reverie.
Following Kaylan's eyes as they swung to the Shadowman, Travyn took a deep breath and went to meet the man who kept the threat against Lamarik alive.
The rain drops increased in size as the two men approached each other; so much so that the blood on Travyn's weapons was being washed away.
While the two combatants circled one another, the hunchmen looked to the troubled sky whose billowing clouds had not yet swallowed the late rising moon. Sniffing in the way animals do when they are trying to catch a scent, the beast-men looked bothered by the approaching storm.
Then Travyn and At'Jak's blades meet and the thunderhead shot out a bolt of lightning that rent the heavens in two. And as the defeaning thunder took up where the lightning bolt left off, the swordsmen went to work, each displaying the skill they had to thwart the others advances, none showing any weaknesses in handling the razor sharp blades they used to cut at one another.
The lightning's brilliance was reflected on steel that was just as fast as the bolts of white fire. The wind howled like all the wolves living in the Thrall Mountains heights were crying out in excitement over the duel that was being fought. The horses tromped the ground in fear, frantically pulling on their tethers.
This was no ordinary fight. The hunchmen could sense that. Magic was at play here, magic that the beast-men didn't know was a precursor to the supernatural might that would be released when the Nyeg and the Ar inevitably collided. And as fate would have it, the ground began to shake as another earthquake told how the warls continued their resolute march towards one another.
A portion of Ab'Don's magic had been infused into At'Jak's blade. A portion of Vlad'War's power lived in Travyn's. The difference between the two was, due to the length of time At’Jak had to work with his sword, the Shadowman was fully aware of its abilities; whereas, Travyn had little idea about the things his magically enhanced weapon was capable of doing.
Another thing At'Jak had was the silk cape he wielded like it was both a weapon and a shield. As a weapon, Travyn soon learned that its hem was as sharp as a knife that could cut him when the cape was fanned out in a sweeping motion. As a shield, the cape could do two things: When encountering eitherTravyn's sword or long blade, it would wrap itself around the threatening weapon and hold onto it until it was needed to intercept the unattended blade's assault; secondly, the cape could be used to hide the presice location of At'Jak's body by reflecting false images of the Shadowman on its surface. So, when At'Jak was stepping to the right, the cape gave the illusion that he was doing the opposite.
With the increasing lightning flashes, Travyn had his hands full trying to acertain where his opponent's body actually was. Though his heightened senses were able to quickly adjust to a moment of uncertainty, since young Oakenfel was graced with a portion of Vlad'War's magic from birth, a moment was all a skilled swordsman needed to defeat his foe.
The cape fanned out as At'Jak spun about, cutting Travyn's jacket's sleeve before he had time to pull his arm away. When he stabbed at the Shadowman once his arm was safe, Travyn found that At'Jak was an arm's length farther to the right of where he had thrust his sword, for he had driven his blade into the cape and not his foe. And as he struggled to disentangle his sword from the garment's clinging grasp, At'Jak swung his own blade and caught young Oakenfel across the chest.
Cutting through the leather coat, and the skin the Hammer of Power's magic had toughened while Travyn was still in his mother's womb, the Shadowman's talisman made of sharp steel gained purchase in the muscle beneath. One of the coat's brass buttons, molded to look like a flame, kept the razor sharp steel from digging deeper. As it was, young Oakenfel's ability to fight was compromised, though Andara's healing power was busy repairing the damage that would have ended the fight if the Shadowman's foe was a normal man.
Stepping back to give time for the inevitable blood lose take its toll, At'Jak said, "Young man, there's profound darkness in you."
"How would you know that?" Rain water ran off Travyn's hat as he looked at the cut he knuckled with the hand that held his long knife.
"My sword told me as it tasted your blood." At'Jak pulled his wet hair out of his eyes as he spoke and pushed it behind his ear.
"Aye," Travyn admitted as he felt Andara's healing power mending his wound. "A darkness you can't begin to fathom has touched me."
"Then why do we fight," At'Jak replied as he spun his blade in his hand to make certain the stranger knew his enthusiasm for the duel had not abated. "Become my apprentice and I will teach you the ways of the Shadowmen."
"Don't be fooled." The amber rings of fire that sat in Travyn's eyes reappeared as he lifted his head and the everpresent hat that sat on it, to look at At'Jak. "I'm not like you since I have fought the darkness that seeks to have sway over my soul and I have won the battle. I promise you, I would make a poor Shadowman."
"You could never conquer the darkness that I felt in you." The Shadowman tw
irled his blade once more as he got ready to renew the fight. Having given his foe's wound time to bleed sufficiently enough to sap the stranger's strength, At'Jak was ready to go for the kill, especially since the man had spurned an offer that was not lightly given, for no one turned down an invitation to become a Shadowman and lived to tell about it.
"But I have conquered it." Travyn flexed his shoulder to test his muscles' renewed strength before he twirled his own blade to mock At'Jak's posturing "And that should worry you since you don't know who you're dealing with."
It did worry At'Jak. The darkness he felt was deep enough to cause concern in the light of the fact that a wound, that should have been grievous, didn't seem to slow the stranger much at all. Maybe he was fighting one more evil than himself. A Dark Prince perhaps, who had access to magic At'Jak was unaware of.
But the Shadowman was not the only one who was troubled, Scytholar was alarmed by the prospect that the Sorcerer was using Horbyn as a watchdog to keep guard over his plans. Who better to do this kind of work than a Hag who had no other ambition but to learn how to heal others. Such a one could be trusted to do this job without dangerous personal agendas getting in the way. This seemed plausible since Horbyn was given guardians that logic said were missplaced with such a Hag as he. Besides, the Sorcerer had asked him to spy on the Neflin.
In the end, Scytholar's path of reasoning brought him back to the place where he had begun. Horbyn and the others had to die lest they report the hybrids' failure to defeat the stranger, even if it turned out that he was no ordinary man. With this in mind, the Hag released his candle and sent it spinning in his hand until it looked like a he was holding a furiously rotating ball of yellow flame. Having his candle take this form, he was positioned to attack Horbyn and the others at a moment's notice. But first, he would let At'Jak have his way with the man he dueled with, since the fight would reveal the extent of the stangers' power. Then Scytholar would know exactly what needed to be done to destroy Horbyn. And once the Shadowman won the fight, there'd be one less foe to worry about.
The rain grew stonger and the wind with it. Thunder came as often as the lightning bolts it followed. Explosions of sound and light filled the night sky as the moon was finally consumed by the billowing clouds. The nearby stream inevitably began to swell, rising up above the Thrall Giants' ankles, pushing the gathering water toward the short cliffwall as it widened, decreasing the field of battle, inciting the horses, who finally broke free of their tethers, to flee off into the rain-soaked night.
Trees bent under the weight of the wind that hit them, causing their trunks to groan as they resisted the storm's hand that was trying to push them over.
After an exchange of blows that saw neither man gain the upper hand, the Shadowman spoke to his sword, causing fire to lace its razor sharp edge as the Sorcerer's magic was called upon. Then throwing his cape out to grab hold of his foes long knife and the hand that held it, though he would have prefered to ensnare the sword, At'Jak pulled Travyn near and began to hack at him with a blade whose power he was convinced would easily subdue his enemy. But to his surprise, his foes weapon lit up with blue light once the Shadowman's enchanted steel struck it. Instead of At'Jak doing the bludgeoning, the man with rings of amber fire in his eyes repeatedly struck at the Shadowman's fiery sword with his shining blue blade.
Feeling the power Travyn was wielding, At'Jak hit the young man's face with his fist and the sword's hilt it held. Once, twice, three times he struck the young man until he had bloodied his mouth and nose and knocked the stubborn hat off his head. Before Travyn could retaliate, the Shadowman brought the end of the hilt down on Travyn's shoulder, jamming its tappered end through both flesh and bone. Once, twice, three times he used the hilt like it was a dagger before Travyn gathered his wits enough to strike at At'Jak's neck with the edge of his sword.
Twisting the hand that held the cape, At'Jak sent a wave of power through the cloth that pushed Travyn away the moment the Nyeg Warler's blade made contact with the Shadowman's neck. Noting that his wound was superficial, the Shadowman went on the attack. This time there was no waiting until Travyn's blood loss had time to sap his strength. At'Jak knew that wouldn't happen. Each moment the Shadowman waited gave Travyn's magic time to heal his wounds. So, he charged at the young man with the fury of one who knew the door of opportunity would soon close. And as he came, he threw out his cape once again. But this time, the stranger's blade, bathed in the blue light that came with Vlad'WAr's Magic, swept through the air to meet the enchanted garment and slice through its sweeping width, cutting it in half and breaking the spell that had made the garment a formidable weapon.
Quickly untying the cape from his neck, At'Jak tossed the useless cloth aside and gripped his sword with both hands to put his full strength behind the blows he was about to dispense. Each time he swung the fire-drenched blade, glowing blue steel was there to meet his supernaturally-charged blade while lightning flashed through the sky and the heart of the storm swept over the two men. Time and again, enchanted steel clanged together, and each time it did, a bolt of lightning burst through the sky like the storm wanted to participate in the fight.
Finally, the two men stepped back from each other. And as At'Jak smiled and shouted to be heard above the storm, It's true, there's darkness in you, a bolt of lightning shot out of the thunderstorms belly and struck Travyn in the back. But instead of burning him with its super-heated fire, the lightning swept around Travyn's chest, up along his arm, through the sword he held, and into At'Jak, burning a hole through his chest.
Instantly, the ball of spinning light that sat in Scytholar's hand enlarged into a huge hand made of searing hot fire. Rain hissed when it hit the fiery expanse as it rushed at Horbyn and knocked him into the cliffwall. The gray wizard barely had time to throw up a make-shift defense before the trailing hand hit him again and tried to crush him to death.
At the same moment, the Thrall Giants and the rest of the hybrids attacked, jumping off the short, steep drop that fronted a stream bed quickly filling with water.
Dodging a giant's club that struck the ground where she had been standing a moment before, Lamarik charged at the crossbreeds who still coveted her. Because they didn't want to hurt her, the human-like beast-men parried her elf blades' blows as they looked for a chance to grab her.
Kaylan and Travyn stood back to back to fend off the greater mass of hybrids that wanted to exact revenge for their brothers' deaths. After six more of their kind were dispatched with the luminous blue blades that seemed to move as quick as the lightning that continued streaking through the tumultuous sky, the hybrids stepped back to let the Thrall giants deal with the terrifying men.
Seeing the giants advancing with speed that belied their massive bulk, Kaylan knew he and his brother were in trouble. When a massive club knocked Travyn through the air, his anger grew along with the burgeoning stream whose waters deepened by the moment. Then the water did something strange, itt heaped up and took on the shape of a dragon that rose above the giant who had struck Travyn with the ruthless blow.
As the monster lifted its head to the towering thunderhead above, a blast of frigid air fell out of the billowing heights and washed over the dragon as it closed its eyes in pleasure over the blast of icy wind that washed over it. And when the frigid bath was completed, the dragon had turned into rock hard ice that retained the fluid properties of water. A moment later, the beast advanced on the giant. Swept along by the burgeoning stream's water, the dragon opened its mouth wide and roared at the Thrall Giant who swung his metal-studded club at the advancing monster's gapping maw. Knocking shards of ice off of the dragon's long snout, the weapon did little else to stop the open mouth, and the rows of sword like teeth, from dropping over the one who wielded the club and snapping shut. As the sharp sound of colliding boulders shot through the air, the giant was bitten in half.
Seeing what had happened, Scytholar stopped attacking Horbyn, whose hastily formed shield was about to give way before the
pressure exerted by the Hag's massive fiery hand. Wrinkles of strain and exhaustion caused by his failing resistence quickly disappeared as he looked on in wonder at the ice dragon that turned its attention to Scytholar. A moment later, a frown brought the wrinkles back as Horbyn saw Scytholar send the gigantic, fiery hand lunging at the dragon's throat. Grabbing hold of the long neck, the hand's fire intesnsified as it began to throttle the huge monster. Unable to escape the deadly grasp, the dragon's wings repeatedly slapped against the ground as it quickly melted in the heat that the Hag's magic poured into it.
The dragon startled Kaylan as much as it did the others, though its appearance coincided with the anger he felt over the blow his brother had somehow survived. Amazingly enough, Travyn was already rising to his feet with the brilliant blue blade still in his hand. But instead of going to Lamarik's aid, Travyn limped over to Kaylan aware that the Hag was the real threat. He intuitvely knew that the hybrids wouldn't hurt Lamarik with their jagged-edged swords. Their goal was to capture her unharmed, not to kill her.
In some ways, the dragon startled Kaylan more than the others. Its form was all too familiar to him, for he had looked into its face scores of time when he studied his own reflection in a lake that acted as the doorway to the Realm of Ice- a place that he and Lylah visited together. It was an exact replica of his dragon-self, though it lacked the distinctive star’s blood coloring he was given in that frigid realm. The beast's eyes were the same as the ones he had in a place where the waterkynd assumed a form they used to protect their loved ones who slept in the glaciers nestling between jagged, rocky peaks. The wings, the long tooth-filled snout, the huge serpent-like body, the spikes, and the claws were all replicas of the dragon he once was. Had he created the beast? Did the stream's turbulent waters obey his thoughts? Did the vapor-filled thunderhead heed a call he was unaware he had made to bathe the emerging dragon with its icy blast? Did he possess magic that only the Mythorians controlled?