The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  The panic afflicting the men that Kheled searched lifted away, and they fought the Kiraak with renewed vigor. The change dropped the healer into his own private frenzy of fear. He sprinted through the combatants to the opposite side, easily beheading the Kiraak he couldn’t avoid.

  A hooded figure on a horse pursued a tiny blob up the hill.

  “Gods damn it, Raimie! What have you done?”

  * * *

  Raimie stopped in a moderately sized clearing, panting.

  Do you think this is far enough?

  “I think this is as good a place as any to fight the bastard,” Dim answered.

  “He’ll have to abandon his horse. The trees are too thick to allow quick pursuit whilst riding one,” Bright added.

  I didn’t lose him, did I?

  “He’s one of mine. Shade melding will make it difficult to escape him,” Dim said.

  One of yours… “He’s a PRIMEANCER?”

  “Of course. How else could he have popped up in so many random locations?”

  You have GOT to be kidding me. Dim, you have so much explaining to do once we’re done here.

  “Yes, master,” the splinter said sarcastically. “As for the follow-up question you’re forming about whether I can help you fight one of mine, the answer is I don’t know. I’ll manage.”

  You inspire so much confidence.

  He drew Silverblade in anticipation and listened carefully for breaks in the silence of the forest.

  What about you, Nyl? Will you take over if our survival depends on it?

  Warm reassurance and self-satisfaction answered him.

  Teron stepped out of one of the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun. He’d discarded his cloak, and for the first time, Raimie took in his Eselan features.

  With blonde hair spliced with brown, he could have passed for human if not for the eyes. The typical lack of color was destroyed by veins of Corruption that almost completely covered the irises. Besides one or two splotches of gray, his eyes were completely black. Corruption spread no further, the rest of his visible skin spotless.

  He pointed his blade at Raimie.

  “You are steadily becoming a thorn in my side. You’re like a roach.

  “I set fire to the forest that Shadowsteal’s ringing peals from in an attempt to lure you out, and you come unsuspectingly to me. I’m interrupted from finishing you off.

  “I spend weeks searching for you and following your trail only to discover you’ve been condemned to death by the Bitch Queen. I’m happy to let someone else do my work for me, but you escape her clutches.

  “You immediately pass into the shadow of the Accession Tear, where I dare not go, to be caught unsuspecting by pirates on the other side. You unbelievably escape even that.

  “I plan my next move carefully, attack when your friend is in no position to help, and I kill you. Yet, here you are, alive. How are you alive?”

  Raimie knew the question was rhetorical, but Teron seemed so perplexed that he couldn’t help taunting the man a little.

  “You slipped. Didn’t fully sever my artery, just nicked it. Sorry. Please do go on with your rant.”

  “You won’t escape this time, roach,” Teron’s voice was ice.

  He swung his heavy sword down on Raimie’s head. It was a stupid first move, leaving the one who performed it wide open to attack. Teron should have known better.

  Raimie sidestepped and circled to face the Enforcer’s back. He thrust Silverblade for the kidneys, but Teron disappeared and stumbled from shadows not far away.

  “That shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t be fast enough that I can’t track you unless…”

  He disappeared.

  “To your left,” both of his splinters intoned.

  Raimie raised his sword in time to observe Teron falling out of shadows, blade extended. The Enforcer disappeared almost immediately.

  “Behind and to the left.”

  Raimie pivoted and blocked the slash.

  “On the right.”

  Fed up, Raimie walked the opposite direction from where Teron would appear. The Enforcer didn’t try again.

  “You have your splinter. How is that possible? I know I destroyed it.”

  Raimie shrugged.

  “No idea. It’s not like I’d tell you if I knew.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Teron continued as if Raimie hadn’t spoken. “I’ve never killed an Ele primeancer before. It should prove an interesting experience.”

  The fight began in earnest, and Raimie quickly knew he was outclassed. It took everything he had to compose a solid defense even with help from his magic. Eventually, Teron’s bone-rattling swings would wear him to exhaustion, and once that happened, one would slip though.

  At the realization, something snapped. He looked out from his eyes, but he wasn’t holding the strings. Nylion had taken over.

  It had only happened like this once or twice in the past. Most of the time when Nylion was driving, Raimie explored his own make-believe worlds, dreaming until his other half was finished. He was grateful to stay aware this time. If Nylion failed and a sword ended up in their gut, he wanted to experience it fully, not fade away, unconscious of his passing.

  His other half appeared to have control of the fight. He steadily beat Teron back, easily countering all of his attacks both magical and mundane. In fact, Raimie thought Nylion might be… playing with the Enforcer.

  “You need to finish the fight quickly, Nyl. We have places to be.”

  Nylion hesitated for the briefest fraction of a second, but it was enough for Teron to land a glancing blow on their shoulder even with his other half dodging the strike. He backpedaled momentarily, trying to gain the upper hand, and quickly took control of the fight back, but a triumphant grin spread across Teron’s face.

  The Enforcer needled a bolt of Daevetch at the cut, and Raimie screamed for Nylion to dispel it with Ele. His other half raised a hand as if to do so, but no white light sprang forth. The bolt connected with their arm and eagerly seeped into the bloody opening to their body.

  Nylion fought on, but his movement became sluggish until eventually he stopped. Teron fiddled his fingers, and his other half spread their arms wide, back straight and feet together.

  Well, I did my best to save us. If we die, I blame you.

  Something snapped again, and Raimie strained to move his limbs. Nothing responded to his commands.

  Dim, what the hell?

  “Daevetch has latched onto your nervous system-”

  My what now?

  “You won’t be able to move. Teron’s in control.”

  “You may be able to burn it out with Ele,” Bright suggested helpfully.

  That idea was better than doing nothing.

  He reached for his source to Ele, and intense, white-hot agony flared over every inch of his body, exterior and interior. A scream hid somewhere inside, but with his mouth locked tight and voice held hostage, finding it would prove impossible. His vision turned pink followed quickly by red, and then the pain let up. If he’d had any control of his body, he’d have sagged.

  “We can’t have that. I’m afraid Ele won’t be an option for you,” Teron scolded mildly. “I’ve heard the Vice is intense. Never had the pleasure of inflicting it myself. That privilege goes to My Lord alone, but if I bring him your head, I doubt he’ll begrudge me some fun. So, tell me. On a scale of one to ten with ten being unbearable and one being mild, how was your pain?”

  The Enforcer waited intently for Raimie’s response, and he glared back hatefully.

  “Oh, I suppose you’ll need your mouth to speak.”

  Teron gestured, and instantly, Raimie could move his jaw and tongue.

  “Can we please get to the part where you try to kill me? I’m curious how you’ll fail this-”

  The pain flooded his system again, and his agonized screech sent startled birds flapping from the trees.

  “Would you like to try a different answer?”
Teron asked over his gasping.

  “I wonder… if… Khel will save… me again. It’s kind of… what he does.”

  When the agony hit this time, it didn’t end quickly. Raimie heard Teron come closer over his screams, unable to see the Enforcer through the thick veil of sparking red.

  “I’m interested to see how long you cling to consciousness knowing that when your brain eventually gives up and goes to sleep, I’m going to cut off your head,” Teron whispered in his ear.

  He could almost envision the bastard’s grin.

  “Let him go.”

  Hazy through the pain, Raimie vaguely remembered that that was what Kheled’s voice sounded like.

  “Why would I ever do that? I have him where I want him.”

  “I’m going to kill you one way or the other, Teron. Thankfully, I’m allowed that pleasure. How you die is completely up to you.”

  The Enforcer laughed.

  “You barely drove me off the last two times. What makes you think this will be any different?”

  “The other times we’ve met, I’ve had to be hasty because my friend was in the middle of dying. This time, he held you off long enough to land in a predicament he can escape all by himself. Isn’t that right, Raimie?”

  His friend’s confidence would have made Raimie smile, but Kheled wasn’t feeling every part of his body burning with hurt. The small part of his mind not utterly consumed by the pain noted that his limbs were twitching and spasming even through Teron’s firm control of his body. He couldn’t escape this, could he?

  “Then, of course, there’s the fact that I was holding back the first two times we fought. I was in hiding at the time, after all.”

  “What are you-?”

  The clash of steel on steel announced the fight had commenced.

  Raimie circled the thought of escape. His brain couldn’t hold onto an idea for long, skipping and restarting thoughts as it was, but still, he pondered the possibility. The pain was caused by… something. Something bad.

  “Me, Raimie.”

  Oh, Dim wasn’t so bad. Sure, he was a tiny splinter of Daevetch, but Raimie wouldn’t hold that against him. What had he been thinking about?

  “The screaming’s very distracting, my friend. If you could please escape Teron’s Vice and come help me, I’d appreciate it.”

  Escape! What a wonderful thought! First, the agony had to stop, and that was caused by… Daevetch inside of his body! That’s right! But how to get rid of it?

  “I’m right here.”

  Bright, his wonderful source to Ele. He’d done a good job piecing the splinter back together. Now that he thought about it, Ele seemed really nice at the moment. Maybe some peace and tranquility would quiet the howling in his head.

  He pulled a whisper of a thread to him, and the hurt relinquished its hold enough for Raimie to think logically.

  Immediately, he dragged on Ele, allowing the inrush of peace to wash over his body and drive Daevetch out. There was a brief, mind-numbing spike of agony, and it was gone.

  He flopped to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.

  “No!” Teron roared from the other side of the clearing.

  In his desperation, the Enforcer allowed Kheled’s feint to pass through and drove a black smothered fist into the healer’s chest. Kheled collided with a tree trunk, and his blades slipped from his fingers.

  Teron vanished and reappeared from a shadow near Raimie. The young man tried and failed to balance on his shaking limbs or at the very least crawl away from the monster sprinting toward him with weapon raised.

  This was it. This was how he died. Raimie doubted Alouin could bring him back from something so utterly devastating. His heart hurt, thinking of all the words unsaid, the tasks unfinished. At least he could take solace in the fact that he’d distracted this bastard long enough for his people to retreat.

  He met those black infused eyes with no fear and bared his teeth. A blur-Kheled!-leaped over him, and Teron’s sword slashed downward.

  It entered the healer at his left shoulder and, driven by the force of Daevetch’s power, emerged from his right hip. His friend fell away in two pieces, and Raimie heard himself wail hoarsely again.

  He watched from outside his body while Teron spit on half of his friend and stepped closer. He lifted Raimie’s chin with his sword tip.

  “You’ve stopped screaming. Are you properly scared of me now?”

  Raimie attempted to curse at him, but nothing intelligible emerged from his mouth.

  “Ah, you’ve worn your voice away. That’s too bad. I was enjoying making you how-”

  Teron cut off, staring at the dagger point sticking from his side.

  “I told you I’d kill you,” Kheled said.

  Teron whirled and backed away in terror from the healer’s wrathful eyes.

  “That’s not possible! I cut you in half! No one survives that, not even a primeancer…”

  He stopped, horror rising over his body and face, and pointed a shaking finger at Kheled.

  “Y-you’re him!” he stammered. “The one my Lord warned us of!”

  “Oh, he’s cautioning his minions this time around? How kind of him.”

  Teron fled into a shadow and disappeared. Kheled followed, stuck a blindingly bright hand into the gloom, and dragged the Enforcer out of it. Teron tumbled across the forest floor, crashing into a tree. Quickly recovering, he shifted into a bird and attempted to take off. In a flash of light, Kheled was beside Raimie, hefting Silverblade, and in another, he stood under the bird, cleanly slicing through a wing as it flew overhead.

  Teron dropped from the sky, screaming and clutching at his severed shoulder. Kheled circled him, analyzing him as if to determine how best to cause suffering. In the end, he simply advanced on the blubbering man, and before Teron could hope to move or escape, the healer slid Silverblade through the soft part of his chin and up into the brain. The body slipped to the side with a thump, and the healer finished the Enforcer off with two powerful swings to the neck. Kheled wiped the blood away on Teron’s clothing and returned the sword to Raimie.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Raimie tried to answer, coughed, and ended up nodding instead.

  “That must be unpleasant. Here. Allow me.”

  The healer placed his hand on Raimie’s neck, and white light lit up the forest. His throat instantly stopped feeling like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Kheled attempted to speak and frowned when no sound emerged. He cleared his throat and coughed.

  “Ugh. Much better. Now, I’m assuming you have questions?"

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The light was blinding when I opened my eyes. I squinted, trying to give the orbs respite while the irises contracted.

  “He’s not crying. Please tell me he’s all right.”

  “He’s perfectly healthy, my dear. Just a quiet little one.”

  Pupils adjusted, I fully opened my eyes. I gazed into a radiant woman’s face, a silly, ecstatic smile plastered across it. The way I was positioned, my head must be lying in her lap. The thought embarrassed me, and I tried to move. My new body was too weak to perform even such a simple task.

  “He’s beautiful!” the woman said, tearing up. “Look at those eyes! He has an old soul, Pima.”

  Who was she talking to? I attempted to move my head and was relieved when that worked. Another woman stood nearby, her hands covered in blood. Concerned, I searched for the wound that could cause that much blood loss.

  “There’s no danger here, Erianger.”

  I searched and found the voice’s owner and immediately tried to warn the women about the figure of white light standing beside them. A wail erupted from my lungs instead.

  “There it is!” Pima said with a smile. “He’s worked past the wonder of the new world and realized he can’t go back to the warm safety of your womb, Mycella.”

  What the hell was going on? I demanded answers and only wailed louder.

  “Welcome to your new
body, Erianger. It’s a bit small as of now, but you’ll grow into it.”

  Pima leaned over and lifted me single-handedly from Mycella’s lap.

  “I’ll get him waddled for you, my dear. You’ve completed your hard work for the day. Shall I send your husband in?”

  “He’ll want to see his new son-”

  “And he will! Let me get him cleaned up first.”

  A baby? Ele, primal force of creation, needs to produce a new body for me so I can accomplish ITS purposes, and I become a baby again? In my shock and incredulity, the wailing cut off.

  “Is that not how new Esela are created?” the terrifying figure in white asked as it strolled alongside Pima. “A male and female come together and exchange genetic material. The resulting zygote gestates for nine months, forming a body able to survive on its own outside the womb, and once it’s finished, it’s expelled into the world. That is correct, yes?”

  If it was addressing me, then yes, it was technically correct although some of the terms were foreign to me, however…

  “You were inserted as late as possible. It’s extraordinarily difficult to keep a body alive without a soul to sustain it. At least you didn’t have to spend months inside of the mother. That could just as easily have occurred.”

  Horrified, I considered what this would mean for me. I’d have to teach this body to walk and talk. I’d lose independence for years to new parents, and I’d have to go through puberty again… Suddenly, my baby cry seemed appropriate.

  “You’re assuming the cycle will last that long. If we can find and eliminate the enemy whole’s embodiment quickly, then the backlash will destroy this body before it ages to that point.”

  Pima wiped my head with a wet cloth, but I was distracted from my shame by curiosity.

  Who are you? I demanded, wailing again bursting from my lungs.

  “My name is Creation.”

  That was the explanation that I got? It was not nearly good enough. I tried to ignore the woman wrapping me in a blanket while I determined how to get a better answer.

  WHAT are you?

  “I’m a piece of my whole splintered off in order to ensure that you follow the prescribed route set for you. I’m here to make sure you destroy your friend.”