Necrophobia

by Devaney, Mark

  “I like her already.” Claire said more to herself than anyone. Razakel nodded and stepped outside into the rain with a confident smile.

  “Fire at will.” Hayley shouted and her crossbow spat bolt after bolt into the approaching sea of undead.

  The other Night Guard and Claire followed suit. She fired arrow after arrow into the crowd aiming over her allies as high as she dared. The strong winds of the storm threatened to blow her arrows off course. Razakel exploded groups of them at a time with magic as Alba animated more and more statues behind them. Each one grabbed a weapon and stomped outside into the sea of horrors outside. Putrid flesh fought stone and metal. Claire’s arrows met home as more and more undead fell before her. She could fire far faster than the crossbow wielding Night Guard and with better accuracy. I should hope so too. She thought to herself, getting her level of proficiency at archery took a lot of time and practice. Her arrows did little more than annoy the hulking blasphemy leading the undead charge so she focused her efforts of keeping the undead breaking through the Night Guard lines and protecting the vulnerable officers as they reloaded their crossbows. Beside her she could see Adrian breathing heavy and ripping his gore-splattered axe out of a body at his feet he flashed her a short grin and ran towards a howling zombie clawing at a fleeing officer. Mercenaries began to enter the fight picking off unsuspecting Night Guard with crossbows and magic of their own; a bolt chinked off Claire’s silver breastplate and forced her to take cover.

  Valdgeirr’s roar reverberated throughout the courtyard as the dragon flew over the shield. The barrier crackled with energy as the bombardment of fireballs dissipated upon it. The dragon circled over the shield trying to find a weak spot. With a snarl of frustration it disappeared for another attack run. Alba’s golems and Razakel’s magic turned the tides incinerating and tearing undead limb from limb. With all the statues in the area under her control she aided with her own blasts of lightning and fire. Just when the defenders seemed to be winning one of the four watchtowers exploded and collapsed in a cloud of smoke and dust. The barrier overhead flickered and faded and its absence noticeable even to Claire’s limited magical talent. Valdgeirr changed course and dived overhead. Bursts of flame rained down upon the courtyard. It roared with triumph and circled around readying itself for another attack run. Razakel’s magic chased it across the sky as it evaded the sorcerer without effort. Were it not a husk of its former self it may have been taunting him.

  Come on Reiner. We can’t hold out much longer.

  The temple of the four gods loomed over them as Reiner and the others rushed downhill. The temple was mercifully intact, the undead focused their assault on the noble district behind them. The streets were littered with twisted and mutilated rotten corpses and with a sigh of relief Reiner couldn’t see more than a handful of civilian casualties. They picked their way with care through the dormant bodies though the spectral flames were extinguished, the rainwater washing away the blood and gore.

  Lightning struck nearby without warning; the impact and deafening sound washed over Reiner leaving him dazed and confused. Overhead the wind and rain howled and lightning sparked throughout the city.

  “Captain...” Alvar wheezed behind him.

  Reiner spun around to see Alvar smoking and staggering forwards clutching his breastplate. His singed hair stood on end as he fell forwards and hit the ground hard.

  “What—”

  “—Look out!” Sevaur’s cry cut him off before he could voice the question. He threw himself forwards blocking another lightning strike with a conjured flash of blue light. The magic barrier overloaded and threw Sevaur backwards into the dirt. “…I’m alright.” He wheezed and staggered as he tried to stand up.

  “Falkner.” Reiner searched the skyline looking to find the traitor and soon found the culprit stood on the roof of the temple his hand aimed at Sevaur. There was no warmth in Falkner’s expression as he met Reiner’s gaze. His was the face of a broken man who bore the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

  “I can’t let you bring them here.” Falkner projected his voice over the storm and folded his arms. Beneath the raincoat Reiner could see the tell-tale shape of Caelite armour and his spear. With a small twinge of pride he saw the burns across Falkner’s face where Sevaur’s fists had caught him. “I can’t let this all be for nothing.”

  “You’re out of luck.” Without warning Reiner thrust his hand forward throwing forth his will into the air. His aeromancy grabbed Falkner and dragged him off the roof towards him. The traitor managed to right himself and slow his momentum as expected but the look of shock upon his face was priceless. “Your blasphemy accomplishes nothing. You’ve sold your soul for nought.”

  Falkner cushioned his impact with a shield of air that exploded outwards as he landed forcing Reiner to steady himself. Behind him Sevaur rushed to Alvar’s aid with a quick glance at his brother.

  “Proud of your handiwork Falkner?” Reiner swept a theatric hand over the destruction around him. The watchtowers coughing up giant plumes of smoke as the rain extinguished the flames. In the distance he heard the roar of the dragon as it found fresh prey. “How many people have died this week because of you?”

  Falkner said nothing as he rushed towards him spear at the ready. Exhausted and still out of breath Reiner managed to turn aside Falkner’s jabs, thrusts and swipes. Fury numbed his muscles and gave him strength. He couldn’t risk taking his eyes off the traitor for even a second but he knew the attack on Alvar was almost certainly fatal. As had been the blast aimed at his brother. He allowed his rage to fill him up and guide his hand. Energy crackled around his hands and armour as he threw himself forward smashing aside Falkner’s defence and missing the former-Captain’s face by mere inches. Falkner countered with air trying to throw him back and create some distance but Reiner was ready for it. He channelled the air around him and his spear clashed against Falkner’s before parting and clashing again and again. Each parry forcing Falkner backwards and closer to his goal.

  “What will Vara say when she sees what you’ve done?” Reiner’s spear scraped along Falkner’s arm and tore parts of his long coat to shreds. The traitor grunted in pain and jabbed low with his own spear forcing Reiner to jump back to evade it. “The people you sacrificed so that she may live?”

  Falkner remained silent but Reiner could see the effect his taunts were having; or rather he could feel them. Each swing and stab came harder than the last. Each thrust intent on skewering Reiner like a common vampire, each slash trying to cut him to pieces.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Reiner ducked beneath an overhead horizontal swing and lashed out at Falkner’s legs as the traitor stumbled Reiner brought up his spear hacked his way through the modified breastplate.

  “Do you think I wanted it to be this way?” Falkner spat the words out as he spun aside Reiner’s lunge and kicked him hard in the chest. “Do you think I wanted any of this?”

  “I wonder—” Reiner feint with his spear aiming for Falkner’s throat forcing him to defend himself, using the shock to his advantage he grabbed the traitor’s spear with magic and threw it across the empty street with a clatter. With a snarl Falkner spat flame from his mouth towards him in desperation and leapt back from Reiner’s spear. Dragonfire was one of the hardest and least practical of the Caelite’s arsenal; it was used sparingly either to be flashy or for the shock value to create an opening. Reiner’d never found it useful which was why he underestimated it. It burned into his armour, white-hot pain lanced through his arm as he tried to shake the fire away. With a sneer Falkner retrieved his spear as Reiner allowed the rainwater to extinguish the last embers.

  “You always were so self-righteous, so sanctimonious.” Falkner lunged again taking advantage of Reiner’s pain to strike another blow, his spear stabbing deep into Reiner’s breastplate. “I did what I thought was right. Too many good people in this world die whilst scum like Pavlovich and his men survive. All I wanted was to bring someone back. Life claimed
a beautiful soul, a caring person who brought compassion and talent into this world rather than pain and misery.”

  Reiner stumbled backwards cupping the wound with his burned hand. The stab wound wasn’t immediately fatal but Falkner had drawn blood, he’d weaken and tire and there was a great risk of bleeding out. He couldn’t come this far to fail now. He swung at the ranting traitor but already his strength was leaving him, his blow slower and more telegraphed than before. Falkner avoided it with a sneer and continued.

  “But the gods have other plans it seems. The god of fate saw fit to heap trial after trial, misery after misery upon its most devoted of followers.”

  “That’s you is it? Devoted?” Reiner coughed up blood and circled around Falkner trying to force a hole in his defence but the traitor Caelite responded by keeping his distance letting Reiner bleed. “So devoted. So loyal and honest you’d sacrifice your friends, your faith and your honour to resurrect one person with the blood of innocents? Don’t make me laugh.”

  Overhead lightning flashed striking the lightning rod atop the church.

  “You’ve no humour Reiner.” Falkner sneered. “You’re a tool to be used. A weapon to be pointed at a target. Isn’t that what the Commander sent you here for? You’re bound by duty. You know nothing else. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”

  “You’ve no honour. You’re no knight.” Sevaur rose and drew his sword, Alvar’s body slumped lifelessly to the floor.

  “Stay back brother. I can handle him.” Reiner tried to stand upright but the pain forced him back down. He gritted his teeth and stabbed at his enemy with a grunt of fury.

  Falkner batted aside his spear with ease and ignored him watching Sevaur with a neutral expression. “Don’t you see? He sacrifices everything he has for the sake of duty as I once did. Where has it gotten him?”

  “He’s better than you.” Sevaur walked closer sword in front of him. “You sacrifice innocents and call it justice. You call it selflessness.” Spear met sword as they clashed and circled. Reiner tried to shout at him to back down but his warning descended into coughs bringing up fresh blood. Falkner outclassed him, with decades of experience under his belt and greater magic Sevaur couldn’t hope to beat him. His spear could keep him at bay where Sevaur wouldn’t be able to touch him.

  “You speak of things you don’t understand child.” Falkner battered aside Sevaur’s swings and deflected his fireballs with air. “I gave my life and perhaps my soul so that another might live. I gave everything I held dear for the sake of another.”

  “You didn’t do it for her.” Sevaur ducked underneath Falkner’s thrust and grabbed the spear with his left hand sending flames shooting up the spear. Falkner cursed as the flames burned his exposed fingers and he dropped the weapon on the floor. “You did it for yourself.” Sevaur stabbed forwards with his sword, the tip tore into Falkner’s platemail and the blade sunk deeper into his abdomen. Falkner swung his hand upwards forcing Sevaur onto his back without his weapon, the sword still embedded in his chest as he staggered backwards, blood dripping from his mouth.

  Sensing Reiner closing in panic crossed Falkner’s face and he willed the spear into his hands with aeromancy. He was too late Reiner was within his reach and held Falkner’s spear against him rendering it useless. Taking his hand off his own bleeding chest Reiner yanked Sevaur’s sword out of the traitor Caelite and threw it over to his brother. Falkner fell forwards with the pain and dropped his spear. He steadied himself with one hand on the floor as blood mingled with rainwater below him.

  “It can’t end like this…” He struggled to rise but the pain was too great. Falkner’s burned and broken face stared up at Reiner blinking the rain out of his eyes. It was over and he knew it. “I have to save my family. I can fix it.”

  “No.” Reiner shook his head and kicked Falkner onto his back. “You can’t.”

  Falkner writhed on the floor clutching his injury and reaching out with one bloodstained hand. “Please! I can make amends! It can’t all be for nothing!”

  “That’s life Felix.” Reiner raised his own spear above the wounded traitor. “Sometimes trying to fix something just makes things worse. The gods will decide how worthy your cause was. How noble your ideals. If you’re lucky you might see Vara again.”

  He drove his spear down hard as he could and twisted, the serrated speartip silencing Falkner’s pleas and denials. It was an unpleasant feeling to silence a man who was once a caring family man. In Reiner’s experience they were just as dangerous and driven as any criminal if not more so. The man with nothing to lose might be dangerous but he was nothing compared to the family man with everything to lose. Beside him Sevaur stared at the floor his sword in hand. “Alvar?”

  Sevaur shook his head and stared down at the fallen Caelite for several moments before eyeing up Reiner’s own wounds. “We need to get you treated. And soon.”

  “Not yet.” Reiner limped towards him and together they hoisted up Alvar’s body onto their shoulders and headed to the temple doors and pushed them aside. The survivors inside lowered their weapons when they saw him staggering through their number towards the stairwell. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Fire rained down upon the entrance hall as Valdgeirr descended upon the survivors. Its wings beating the air with little concern for the sheer size and weight of the dragon hovering above the smouldering courtyard. The dragon’s flaming eyes flickered across the humans scrambling for cover; its previous victim crushed within the talons on its forelegs. Claire picked herself off the floor coughing and shifting debris from the ceiling and dragged Hayley out of the rubble. Around them the last of Alba’s golems stomped towards the hovering dragon, all other nearby undead lay scattered in pieces across the floor. Neither Alba nor Razakel were anywhere to be seen and their absence was tangible.

  “Claire!” Adrian coughed shifting the support beam off himself and the visibly dead body of an unfortunate Night Guard officer who’d taken the full brunt. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  She nodded and threw her damaged helmet to the ground and felt the rain trickling in through the smashed ceiling. She’d sustained a cut somewhere on her head and blood dripped down her chin. Sensing movement the undead dragon’s gaze turned on them with a snort. Its wings folded and tucked into itself and the creature dropped like a rock to the ground and landed on all fours. Up close she could see the degeneration and damage it had accumulated since Caelholm, missing teeth and scales deep cuts and a dented horn but it was far from weakened. Valdgeirr padded towards them each step shaking the ground and crushing anything beneath its claws. Claire winced as she watched an injured survivor trying to crawl away become nothing more than a smear upon the floor as it passed over him. The creatures tail whipped behind it, coiling and uncoiling in anticipation. It smashed aside the animated statue clumsily trying to stab the dragon with a spear. As the tail stabbed through it the magic animating it exploded outwards showering the area in dust.

  Hayley yanked Claire’s arm and dragged her back. “We’ve got nothing! We need to run!”

  Claire glanced away from the dragon as long as she dared trying to spot an exit. The set of double doors in the centre of the room was the furthest and on either side of the hall were another set of sidedoors.

  “Get out of here! I’ll draw it’s attention.” Adrian shouted across the hall to them hefting a large clump of bricks and throwing it at the dragon. The projectile bounced off the armoured crocodilian head eliciting an irritated roar that shook the building.

  “You’ll get killed!” Claire shouted as she backed away towards the nearest side-door.

  Adrian laughed and hurled another brick at the approaching dragon. “I’m not an idiot Claire.” He backed up himself and glanced at the central set of doors. “I know what I’m—”

  The dragon spat flame in his direction and he threw himself into a roll and ran towards the door. For all his bulk he was agile enough. He scooped up another boulder and shouted profanities at the dragon. That
was all it took. Valdgeirr reared its head back and charged towards the three of them. Hayley dashed towards the doors opposite Claire and narrowly avoided the tail slashing out for her. She rammed into the door with her shoulder and slammed it behind her as the tail smashed aside the door bringing the roof down around it.

  “Trust me!” Adrian shouted trying to draw the dragon’s attention as it rounded on Claire.

  She nodded and threw herself to one side as another gout of flame incinerated where she’d just been stood. Leaping over a set of bodies and almost slipping on the blood-stained floor she kicked aside the double door and hurried down the corridor. Behind her a flash of white and searing heat poured down the corridor, the flames singing her exposed skin as she sprinted. Over her shoulder she could see the hall aflame as expensive rugs and curtains fed the fire and the air shimmered with heat. There was no going back that way. Muscles ached and burned with fatigue, she’d yet to recover from yesterday’s chase. Her run slowed to a jog as she was sure Valdgeirr had lost interest. In the distance she could hear it tearing apart other parts of the mansion. The sound of it roaring in frustration echoed throughout the building. The fighting elsewhere seemed to have died down, either they’d exhausted the undead lines — which she doubted, or the survivors were few and far between. The heat in the corridor became sweltering as the fire raced after her, she headed into another corridor and tried to find a way to double back to reach Adrian and Hayley. Patting down her equipment she found her rapier and quiver were still attached around her waist. The Night Guard armour was in shreds, her singed hair falling in front of her face. Claire dabbed at the blood dripping from her face and pressed on keeping her short-bow nocked and expecting trouble.

  The lifeless and opulent halls were empty except for the bodies of butlers and servants scattered throughout. Claire couldn’t help but notice the wounds were human-made, slashed throats, sword wounds. Either the work of Dmitri Pavlovich and his mercenaries or Haures death cult. Pausing to look out a window she saw the storm circling overhead spiralling around them as it had in Caelholm. Razakel told her magic in great quantities disrupted the weather and there was no doubting that now, but it seemed a more mundane explanation than she’d hoped. Staring at the blackened storm clouds discharging lightning every few seconds and tearing at the building she hoped it was the god of storms displeasure. At least then there might be some justice for the destruction encompassing the city, the sheer blasphemy the cult had unleashed. In the courtyard resurrected bodies stumbled around in the rain searching for victims guided by the owl-masked robed figures of Haures cult. Movement in one of the windows on the second floor opposite her caught her eye. A flash of lightning illuminated a grey-haired man followed by cloaked figures stalking past a window. Haures was here. Her heart raced and she hurried to find a route through the confusing mansion; there seemed to be more corridors and halls than actual rooms. Soon she’d be able to get answers and perhaps some measure of justice. All she had to do was reach him. And take out his followers. And take out a telekinetic necromancer. Simple.