Evolve

by Derek Belfield

  The most remarkable trait had to do with the large leathery wings that were spread out behind her. They were much larger than her body, and when stretched out as they were, she looked towering and more threatening. As Mordryn studied her, she issued another bone-chilling hiss and then launched herself at him. Her wings automatically withdrew and clasped themselves together over her chest like the ties to a cloak as she attacked. She led with her claws, and he found himself having to block her attacks with his daggers. Despite their fragile appearance, the nails made a metallic sound when they struck his blades.

  He knew he would need to do more than simple melee combat if he wanted to win this fight. He began to channel shadow magic, and black smoke began to wreathe his form as he and the Scourge woman traded blows. She was just as fast as him and had a wicked sense of timing. He could tell she was an experienced warrior in her own right as she didn’t leave a single opening for him to counterattack.

  When the smoke around him was about to coalesce into a shadowy doppelganger of himself, he heard a sound behind him and jumped to the side. His swift reaction put distance between him and the woman. He had responded just in time as a new tail blade swept through his previous position. This time, the blade was wielded by a monster that looked like a golden masculine version of the woman. He was tall and had a large muscular frame. He shared the same tail and wings as the woman and sported the same scale configuration. Where she was a moonstone, he was a golden topaz.

  He couldn’t help but be impressed by their terrible beauty. They were clearly monsters, but they were endowed with features and figures that lesser creatures could only be envious of. He felt a pang of fear as he watched both of the Scourge begin to light up with an inner fire. He could see a bright blue-white fire start to emit from the separations between their scales. They looked like lanterns with the shutters closed. The light spread up the sides of their necks in molten veins until they reached the jaws of the monsters.

  As one, they opened their mouths, and their lower jaws split down the center at the bifurcation that he had noticed earlier. White flame issued from their mouths and rushed in his direction. He was able to dodge the flame adroitly, but shock crossed his face as he realized wherever the fire had touched, his magic had dispersed. In all of his many years of fighting and killing, he had never seen a substance capable of dissipating hostile magic so thoroughly.

  He started to feel outside of his depth as he realized his weapons were being systematically countered. He wasn’t stronger or faster than these creatures, and his magic could be negated by their awful flames. He had never been a stand-up fighter with enemies as strong as him anyway. He had always been an ambush fighter. It was only when his foes were severely weaker than him that he would engage in melee combat this way.

  He looked backward at the staircase, preparing to make a run for it, but the Scourge clearly noticed his plan. The two split up, and he had to move again to keep them both in his sight. The male took up a position next to the staircase while the female kept herself between him and her eggs. They paused, clearly waiting for whatever he would do next. He frowned. He didn’t like being toyed with. He needed to get back to Soulreach and Mors so he could report the developments in Bastion. Not only had the city been taken but the Scourge were indeed back, and their leaders were more potent than even the legends had hinted at.

  He internally sighed. He would have to die. Mors could bring him back into a different body, and then he would be able to report on what he knew. He shuddered internally. He wanted nothing to do with the Between, and he would surely be punished for leaving Legion behind.

  The horse itself was nearly priceless, but if he were more honest, he was more afraid of how long he would be left in the afterlife. Mors should notice when he died immediately, but it wasn’t a simple process to restore him to a body. All of this flashed in his head as he dropped his knives and drew his sword Whisper.

  The black sword had seen its share of combat, and it had a unique enchantment that was infinitely useful to a Vallyrian. The blade allowed him to capture and use soul magic without a ritual circle. Similar to how a sacrificial dagger was used, this blade would create sapping wounds that would weaken the opponent before finally relieving them of their souls. He darted at female Scourge with a thrust aimed at her midsection. This was one of the hardest attacks to block, and he was hoping that the surprise would allow him to score a hit.

  Unfortunately, it seemed like she had been expecting such a maneuver. She dodged around the blade with an unnatural serpentine grace. She slid around his thrust and raked her claws up his side. He cried out in pain, twirling and bring his sword down in an overhead chop. As he did so, another pair of claws parted the flesh in his back, causing his strike to go wild. Without his usual force, she was able to effortlessly parry the blade with the scales on her forearms. In a movement too quick for his advanced eyes to follow, two tail blades struck off both of his arms and a fountain of blood issued from each.

  He stood there, dumbly as black blood poured from his wounds. He couldn’t see behind him, but the woman drew herself up and smiled into his eyes. As she did so, her lower jaw slowly opened, and she hissed menacingly. He stared deep into her maw, his eyes widened in fear. Her tongue shot from her mouth like the hunting implement of a frog and plunged into one of his eyes like a knife. He was already dead when she pumped his brain full of concentrated acid.

  In the end, no one gets to pick their last thoughts. Mordryn didn’t think about the Collective or about Mors. He didn’t contemplate the geopolitical ramifications of the taking of Bastion of the threat of the Scourge. He wondered if he would get to ride a horse through the countryside again. He asked if Legion would mourn its only companion, a man as mad and broken as itself, as it wandered aimlessly throughout the world. As complete and permanent darkness took Mordryn away, he wondered if Legion would find its way to him in the afterlife. That would be nice.

  As his corpse crumpled to the ground, his sword Whisper began to glow on the rough stone floor. A black jewel in the hilt glowed with a dark miasma. What Mordryn had thought was permanent death became permanent imprisonment.

  Chapter 28: A New Governor

  Congratulations! You have slain a level 50 Vallyr Assassin. You have earned 194,750 experience. While killing enemies in your place of power, you can choose to add their experience to your city rather than your own level. Would you like to do so now?

  Slate and Shale stared down at the dead Vallyrian at their feet while Slate mentally assented to the system prompt. The assassin had been unusually strong and fast for one of its kind with a plethora of deadly looking weapons. Slate attributed much of that to the man’s level. He hadn’t met a stronger person yet. If it were one on one, he couldn’t be sure what the outcome would be.

  What happened? He asked Shale. She looked at the corpse and then at the eggs behind the

  I was meditating before you claimed the city, and I felt a disturbance in the flow of mana just outside of the room. When the flash overtook the citadel, I took the opportunity to channel light through my scales and turn invisible. She spoke succinctly and informatively, but Slate could detect a shakiness in her voice.

  I turned on my mana vision as soon as the conversion was complete and spotted him hiding by the stairwell. I thought I would be able to ambush him and kill him quickly, but he dodged my first strike and then ran toward the eggs. As Shale recounted this part of the experience, he could feel her barely suppressed fear. It was a shadow of the absolute panic that had caused him to come to her assistance. He could feel her fright biding its time in the depths of her consciousness like a stalking beast waiting to strike again. She looked deeply into his eyes, and he could see moisture in the edges of her aureate gaze.

  He almost made it to the clutch. I was barely able to put myself in between him and our children.

  Slate had never seen her so emotionally off-balance. It felt fundamentally wrong to him. She was always the better warrior that took pride
in her own stoicism. Slate knew that fear was the undoing of the warrior spirit, it grew like a thorny weed in the deepest, darkest parts of the psyche, sapping it of purpose and of strength. It would continue to grow slowly and quietly for as long as its host would let it dwell undisturbed in the garden of their spirit. Sometimes, it grew so fast and so hardy that a single person wasn’t enough to pull it out root and branch. Sometimes, they needed help.

  He helped. Taking advantage of his new elf-like form, he wrapped his arms around Shale. He noticed that she burned like a furnace but instead of finding the sensation uncomfortable, it was relaxing. He was a flower discovering the sun. He turned into her to share in her life and in her light. She stiffened at his touch at first. They had shared a bed multiple times, the Scourge required it, but never had they shared something as simple as a hug or as poignant as a kiss. Monsters didn’t make love, they mated.

  She relaxed into his grip; like a snowflake melting on the tongue. At first, it was cold and uncomfortable, but then it felt like she had been there all along. Through the Scourgemind, he could feel her heart and mind settle, and he breathed deeply, capturing the scent of her.

  It’s okay. The Scion said gently. You killed him.

  She backed out of his grasp enough to look him in the eye. He could see a fierce determination in her gaze. We killed him. She said savagely. Just like we’ll do the same to anyone who threatens our children or the Scourge.

  Slate smiled. There was his warrior. Of course. He said simply. With one last glance at the future of the Scourge, they ascended the stairs and retired to their personal bedchamber for the evening.

  ∆∆∆

  When the sun rose, they woke up slowly in their gargantuan bed. There was enough space for Slate to stretch his wings out, and the tips barely reached off the side of their bed. It wasn’t a typical human bed, resembling more of a large cushioned platform than what one would usually imagine. The two Scourge leaders had little need for blankets or linens. They exuded enough heat on their own to keep them more than comfortable.

  The ability to simply sit still was a novel experience since Slate had arrived in this world. He still had a city to stabilize and a citadel to choose buildings for, but he didn’t need to do it right at this moment. Slate could relax and feel the sun warm his scales, and for now, they were safe. It hadn’t been a comfortable journey to this point, and he knew the road would likely only get rougher, but he was proud of the accomplishments and the progress he made.

  He retracted his wings into a golden cloak around his body and swung his feet to the floor. He felt Shale snap into consciousness as soon as he moved.

  Where are you going? She asked.

  He sighed loudly. We have to pick upgrades for the citadel and decide who we want to replace Merus. A pang of sadness spread through their bond.

  Who do you have in mind? She asked. He stood up and stretched his limbs to shake the inactivity from his blood.

  I was thinking about choosing Lucelynia. He said.

  In contrary to his expectations, Shale merely nodded. That’s probably the right choice. She rose from her side of the bed and began practicing a series of martial poses to wake her body up. Seeing her, Slate used the Scourgemind to review the movements as she practiced. He began to mirror the same movements across from her as they spoke.

  It would allow us the opportunity to honor Merus and provide for his widow. Additionally, from his memories, I know she’s a skilled administrator.

  Shale began to pick up the pace, and after a short pause, Slate copied her. That’s true. Shale said. Back in the village, she frequently assisted some of the elders with their tasks. She smiled slyly. Would that allow us to escape the throne room more often and get to kill more things?

  Slate laughed out loud, his deep voice projecting the affection he felt. I should think so. I don’t want to do any of the bureaucratic work. He replied. Gradually, their morning exercise slowed down, and they both came to a halt.

  No, Shale said, your mind is too busy plotting to allow you to stay sitting on the throne all day.

  Slate shrugged, knowing that she was right. Well, I do need to spend some of the day today on the throne. Care to join me? He asked her.

  Sure, the Paramour replied. We should probably let Lucelynia have input on the upgrades you’re about to choose. If I know her, she’s probably already assessed the city and knows what the shortfalls are. Slate considered her words and decided to trust her. Let’s do it.

  They made their way to the throne room, and two Guardians were on either side of the door. “Bring me Lieutenant Burnheel and Guardian Lucelynia.” Slate ordered when he saw them. They both saluted, shared a glance, and then one sprinted from the citadel.

  Slate and Shale entered the room and sat upon their respective thrones. Neither spoke but instead waited in companionable silence. Slate busied himself looking through the various upgrades that the system offered for the city. He held a token in his palm that resembled a slightly different version of the citadel he remembered from before the city’s alteration. This time, there wasn’t a voice that spoke to him. He wondered if that had something to do with the fusion or because of the level of the city.

  “Good Morning Lord and Lady.” A voice broke him from his study, and he glanced up. Shale inclined her head and chose to remain silent. Burnheel and Lucelyania had both entered the throne room. Slate noticed that both Guardians looked weary. While the lieutenant embodied the well-traveled and poorly-rested soldier, Lucelyania had the specter of grief paint shadows into her face and tears shed in her eyes.

  “Be at ease, Guardians.” Slate ordered. Both Guardians dropped their fists and looked expectantly at their liege. Slate shared a compassionate look with the guardians before speaking. “I know both of you are exhausted, and it’s a testament to your character that you’re before me today.” He paused, noting the quiet acceptance of his praise. “Unfortunately, the Scourge waits on no one, and we need to turn to the running of this city.” He addressed the Burnheel first.

  “Lieutenant, I need your guardians to return to duty immediately. They will be stationed within the inner city and are responsible for protecting the citadel, the hatchery, and the inner city.” He could tell that part of the lieutenant wanted to protest. It spoke well of him that he wanted to let his subordinates get some much-needed rest.

  However, he could see when he recognized the need for his troops to man the defense, and he responded. “Aye, my Lord Scion. The royal guards will stand ready to defend the Scourge leadership.”

  Slate considered informing Burnheel of their nighttime intruder but ultimately decided not to. It wasn’t their fault that the citadel had been attacked. There was a considerable amount of disorganization in the city at the moment, a situation that he hoped to soon rectify. He turned next to the other woman. "Lucelynia, I need you to take the place of Merus, and become the Governor of Bastion.”

  Lucelynia looked confused at the unfamiliar title and asked for clarification. “Lord Scion, what would I do as the governor?” Slate shuffled in his throne. He had considerable experience convincing people to take terrible jobs by sugar-coating the details. However, he wouldn’t disrespect Merus’s memory that way by deceiving his widow. Even he wouldn’t stoop to such a level.

  “You will be in charge of the city, when the Lady Paramour and I are away. You will be responsible for promoting the stability within the city, organizing its protection with the assistance of Lieutenant Burnheel, and developing the city to increase its prosperity and health.” He waited to let her chew on the job description. He almost expected her to turn down the job. He would understand, she had just lost her husband, but if he could rely on Merus’s memories, he knew that she would take the job. She felt an obligation to her fellow people that many would not reciprocate.

  She saluted. “When do I start, my Lord?” She asked. Slate smiled and shared a relieved feeling through the Scourgemind to his mate.

  “Right now.” He glanced at Bun
rheel again. “Lieutenant, you don’t need to remain, I know you have a defense to organize.”

  Burnheel nodded at the apparent dismissal and departed from the room with an affirmation and a salute. The two Scourge leaders focused on Lucelyania once more.

  Slate spoke again. “The Lord of Light has endowed us with the ability to alter the city directly to decrease some of the shortfalls that we may have in the city. Tell me, how has it changed?”

  Lucelynia thought a few moments before speaking. It was an excellent sign as far as Slate was concerned. “The entire city looks similar in architecture to the forest compound. All of the buildings are made from celestial marble, but a few important structures didn’t survive the transfiguration.”

  Slate leaned forward in his throne, interested. “What didn’t make it?”