Holtur Stories

by Cameron Wayne Smith

  “Two!” Kallum laughed. “That explains your knowledge!”

  “Never study a single creature, Kallum.” Professor Formidor narrowed his eyes. “You will always learn more from more. It’s a simple academic fact: more from more!”

  Kallum nodded his head enthusiastically.

  “So, can we have them?” Sonja asked.

  Formidor hummed for a moment, then asked, “Do you know how to tell the difference between an egg and a tovulpa?” He revealed a tray of white hen’s eggs.

  Sonja picked one up and tapped a fingernail on the shell. She shook it hard up against her ear. “This one is a hen’s egg; I can hear the yoke moving around when I give it a good shake.”

  Rigst picked one up and did the same. “This one too!”

  “Do you know what would happen if you did that to a tovulpa?” Formidor asked.

  Sonja picked up another. “No, but I’m guessing it would be less gooey.”

  “And it would bite your face.”

  Sonja was about to shake the egg by her ear, then stopped. She’d prefer to keep her face horror-bite-free. “You tell us that now?”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t keep the tovulpas with the hen’s eggs.” He pulled out a box with a lock, opened it with a key, and revealed two more eggs. They looked the same as the others.

  Rigst cleared his throat. “Professor, why do you have a tray of hen’s eggs in your office?”

  Formidor furrowed his brows, but ignored the question.

  “Would a graekan mistake a tovulpa as one of their own eggs?” Sonja folded her arms. “I’ve never seen a graekan, let alone their eggs. But I’m going to assume they are much larger than that of a hen.”

  Formidor nodded. “Tovulpas can change their form. There are many horrors which can shift their physical shape. The tovulpas seem to be able to change into anything they want! Well, the egg-form of anything they want. A pretty good survival mechanism, really. Eggs, of all varieties, are full of the proteins and the nutrients needed for—”

  Sonja coughed. “We’re not here for a biology lesson, Professor!”

  Formidor gasped, insulted by the interruption. He gazed into Sonja’s eyes, sensing the urgency of the situation. “Well, one thing I should explain: they are incredibly dangerous if they get wet. They… change faster.” He kept the explanation quick and simple. “Do not touch them while they are wet. EVER!”

  “Why?” Rigst asked.

  “You’re not here for a biology lesson, Slayer!” Formidor responded smugly. “Just don’t touch them when they are wet.”

  “We won’t!” Kallum reached for the box.

  Formidor pulled the box back. He gazed upon the horrors one last time. “Alright you little beauties, it’s time for you to go free. You need to change into graekan eggs now. Do so, and you will have many little eggies to consume.” He sighed, closed the box, then locked it.

  Sonja raised a brow. “They listen to your command?”

  “I don’t think so!” Formidor laughed. “Maybe they do? They’re definitely intelligent; probably heard our whole conversation. Whilst we would be fools to consider any horror a true ally, I’d say they’d find delight in having a graekan nesting site to themselves.”

  Kallum reached for the lockbox once more. This time, the professor let him take it, along with the key. “Thank you, Professor Formidor. I understand how much they mean to you.”

  Formidor shook his head. “Not quite as much as my life. Thank you, Kallum. You too, slayers.”

  “Don’t thank us yet!” Sonja gave a nod and a smirk as she left the room. She started down one of the corridors, with Rigst following closely behind.

  “Ah, Sonja,” Kallum said. She turned to see him nodding in the opposite direction. “Exit’s this way!”

  ***

  With the sun hanging low beneath a clouded sky, resting on the horizon over the snowy ground, the outside world shone in all shades of red and orange.

  Captain Sudtor was standing atop the south wall. He looked tired, as did the rest of his men. It was clear they had not had an easy sun.

  “Captain Sudtor,” Sonja called out from below. “Austin Schwartz, is he a casualty?”

  Clovis twitched upon hearing that name. “I believe so; he is nowhere to be found. Will you be joining us at the south gate, Captain Bluwahlt?”

  “Temporarily,” Sonja confessed. “Rider and I are going to try something to stop the graekans once and for all.”

  Clovis slapped a hand over his face. “Do not tell me you have a tovulpa…”

  Sonja said nothing.

  “That man, Austin, is a fool!” Clovis cursed. “He knows nothing of the things which plague our lands! He can’t fight, and his foolish words will never achieve anything!”

  Sonja sighed, looking to Kallum. “I’ll leave you with Captain Sudtor, brother. Explain to him why it will work, whilst we make it work.”

  “Damn it, I wanted to see the graekans.” Kallum scrunched up his face.

  “Kallum, you know I’d never take you out there,” she said softly. “If you had one of your episodes, you’d endanger myself, maybe Rider too.”

  “But… I…” Kallum wanted to argue, but he understood the circumstances weren’t in his favour. “Yes, Sonja.” He pulled a golden flint lighter from his coat. “It’s getting late, take this.”

  Sonja smiled as she took the lighter. “Captain Sudtor,” she called out once more, “I’ll be leaving you with my brother. Kallum will be under your protection while I’m gone. He will explain what we are doing, and why it will work.”

  Clovis looked frustrated. “What do I do if, you know, he…”

  “He has a vial of elixir with him, and will show you where he keeps it,” Sonja said, patting Kallum’s chest—where the elixir was pocketed. “Don’t worry about it, he will be fine. I’ll collect him when we return.”

  “And if you don’t return?” Clovis questioned, watching Sonja walk through the south gate.

  She turned to look up at him. “Oh, we’ll return,” Sonja said confidently, continuing along the southern road.

  ***

  They reached a fork in the southern road, splitting the path east and west. The direction Sonja and Rigst needed to traverse was south. Jagged rocks—granite marbled with streaks of red—protruded from the snow, slowing the speed at which they could travel. Rigst had taken the lead now; scouts were always good with rough terrain.

  “We’re almost at Boulder Beach,” Rigst said in a hushed voice. “You been here before?”

  “Once or twice,” Sonja said, trying to remember. “When I was a child. A long time ago.”

  Ocean waves crashed against the base of craggy cliffs. The sun had sunken below the horizon, and, if not for the moonlight scattering through the clouded sky, the land would be engulfed in darkness. Rigst crouched low. He turned to Sonja with a finger over his lips and pointed down at the beach.

  There was another cliff, about a kilometre away from the one they stood upon. Between the two cliffs was a sandy, pebble-ridden beach. Shelled, reptilian creatures, similar to turtles, were walking around the beach on their hind legs. In the middle, towering above the rest, was the queen. It was, after all, the graekans nesting ground, and she was the largest monstrosity within.

  Sonja whispered, “We’re going to need to get their attention. Get them close to us. Make them think we’ve stolen the eggs. Lose the eggs, then haul arse back to Holtur!”

  “From the road,” Rigst suggested. “They’ll outrun us over the rocks.”

  Sonja nodded, then slowly clambered back the way they had come. The sunlight was gone now. Visibility was minimal. They had previously gathered some sticks to dry out beneath their furs, but to ignite them immediately—while trying to be stealthy—would be stupid; the graekans would surely see.

  Sonja stumbled, kicking a large rock which dislodged and fell from the cliff. It thudded as it hit protruding ledges, then clanked a loud echo as it hit the pebbles below. Everything was silent for a m
oment. A moment shattered by angry yelps and hisses emanating from the beach.

  “No point hiding now, run!” Sonja demanded. She pulled the sticks from her furs, igniting them with the lighter her brother had given her. Rigst had already commenced leaping from rock to rock. He was more used to rock-walking than her; more used to navigating through darkness too.

  “This way!” Rigst called out from the shadows. “This might actually play out in our favour!”

  Sonja was crossing the rocks as fast as her heavy frame would allow her. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if you could speed up a little, they will probably meet up with us back at the road.”

  “Grrrr…” Sonja focused on her feet, the rocks, and the swiftest path she could use to bound to safety.

  “Let me, Captain.” Rigst took both the torch and tovulpa case from Sonja.

  They bounced and leapt across the rocks, eventually coming to the fork in the road. Yelps and hisses could be heard from the west. Crackling light erupted across the sky, followed by a thunderous crash from the north.

  “Damn it! We can’t handle the tovulpas wet!” Rigst fiddled with the box as they continued up the road. “Sonja, key!”

  Sonja pulled the key from her pocket and handed it to Rigst. She gazed behind them as another lightning bolt filled the sky. It illuminated the horde of creatures on their tail. Beady, red eyes, atop dark, beaked mouths, were gazing at them with hunger. Their yellow-shelled bodies protected their vital organs. Thick, masculine legs supported heavy bodies, while similar-sized, clawed arms reached out for the slayers.

  Sonja unsheathed her claymore. The first to reach her was about the same height as her. She swung the blade at the head of the creature, but its head sunk back into its shell, leaving only its beak on display. She flowed with the momentum, curved her blade, returning it to the creature. This time, at its legs. It groaned and collapsed from a severed knee. Two more graekans moved in front of the wounded creature, hissing and spitting as they did.

  She fell back. “Rider?” She urged, waving her weapon around, looking back at her companion.

  “Uh oh!” Rigst had opened the box. Huddled within were two mere chicken eggs. Useless for distracting the horde. He sealed the box, but didn’t lock it. “They haven’t changed!” He held both box and torch with one hand, unsheathing his sword with the other.

  “We need to fall back to Holtur.” Sonja swiped at the knee of the closest graekan. It went down easily. “Take out the knees!”

  “It’s too far!” Rigst dodged beneath the swipe of a claw. He offered the graekan’s leg a taste of his steel in return. “We’ll be overrun before we reach the gate!”

  They continued falling back. Dodging attacks. Disabling the endless waves of graekans. Lightning continued revealing the oncoming horde. Booming thunder added to the horror of the ordeal. A cold, damp stench filled the air. Hail began to pelt around them. The icy projectiles struck at the slayers and graekans alike.

  “Damn hail!” Sonja roared, slashing her blade at the graekans. She ignored the pounding of the ice, focusing on slaying the nearby enemies instead. Slowly, she continued retreating. The graekans began pulling their heads into their shells. Each time hail struck at a graekan’s limb, it would be swiftly retracted into its protective carapace.

  “Seems our friends aren’t too fond of hail strikes!” Rigst laughed.

  Sonja leapt back, noticing the horde’s advance slowing. “Run!”

  The storm gave the slayers an advantage, and they took it! They ran as fast as they could towards Holtur.

  A booming noise chased them; not thunder, it was timed too evenly for that. It grew louder, closer, and eventually forced the two to turn around. Lightning lit up their large pursuer. Graekan, similar to the others, except it was closer to the size of a house. It released a deafening roar that melded with thunder. Its beak opened wide and its stubby tongue vibrated back and forth.

  The two slayers leapt to either side of the path. The graekan queen overshot them, then slowed itself down so it could turn back. Each thump of its feet shook the ground. Its carapace was covered in scars and scratches. Its eyes were bloody red and full of rage.

  “Rider, the tovulpas!” Sonja called out.

  “They didn’t change!” Rigst yelled back.

  “We mustn’t handle them when wet!” Sonja yelled. “Launch them at the queen!”

  “What?”

  “Just do it!”

  Rigst flipped open the latch, then threw the box at the queen. As it twisted through the air the box flung open, revealing, in the slayers direction, two small chicken eggs. The box rotated, allowing hail to catch inside. When the opening faced the graekan queen, the two eggs shot out. Only they were much larger, coloured light blue and speckled with green.

  The queen’s red eyes expanded, and she leapt for the two eggs. She caught them, one in each claw. The tovulpas vanished; changed to nothing. Rigst and Sonja looked at each other from across the path, and the queen released a pained roar. Its gaze fixed on the slayers. The hail subsided, leaving light rain pattering in its place, and the thrum of advancing graekans resumed.

  “I’m sorry,” Rigst said.

  “We’re not done yet!” Sonja twirled her claymore. “Until the end!”

  “Until the end,” Rigst repeated, grasping his own blade.

  Yelps and screeches came from the oncoming graekans, and the queen rushed at Sonja. She ran the edge of her claymore along the base of the queen’s shin. The monstrosity was not fazed. Her blade mustn’t have done much damage. Still, she wasn’t going give up without a fight.

  Suddenly, the queen stopped in her tracks. She clutched at her shell near the waist, then twisted in agony. The queen released a painful screech, fell to all fours, then galloped—like a wounded beast—back for the beach. Perhaps Sonja’s attack had achieved more than she initially presumed?

  Another lightning strike lit up the ground ahead. The smaller graekans ceased their advance. They huddled around their queen. After some pained cries, the horde of graekans assisted their queen’s retreat.

  “What did you do?” Rigst asked in shock.

  Sonja sheathed her blade and offered a shrug. “I'm not sure… scratched her foot?”

  “Damn, Captain,” he said with a grin. “Remind me not to ever let you give me a foot rub.”

  Sonja laughed. “Like that’d ever happen!”

  ***

  The makeshift torch managed to survive the weather, and action, only to die out a few hundred metres from the southern gate.

  Clovis Sudtor noticed them and called out, “Good to see you returning.”

  Sonja simply laughed. It contagiously jumped to Rigst, and then Kallum—who was standing beside Clovis atop the wall walk.

  “What of the graekans?” Clovis asked.

  Sonja and Rigst both looked at each other, laughed some more, then returned their gaze back to Clovis. “Well,” Sonja said, giving a pause as she thought of the right words to use. “I scratched her foot and scared her away.”

  “What?” Clovis jaw dropped, tilting his head.

  “Did the tovulpas work?” Kallum greeted them at the gates.

  “I think so,” Rigst said with a nod. “They changed to—what I assume was—graekan eggs. The queen caught them, then they simply vanished!”

  “They were wet, weren’t they?” Kallum asked.

  Sonja and Rigst both nodded. Clovis looked on confused.

  Kallum laughed, hysterically, almost falling to the ground. Once he recovered from his outburst, he answered the confused gazes, “Remember how Professor Formidor was telling you not to get them wet?”

  Sonja and Rigst nodded again.

  “Well, when encased in moisture, tovulpas can transform almost instantaneously!” Kallum laughed again. “Into ANY egg. They can transform into microscopic little things, enter a creature’s skin, then eat their host from within.”

  “That means no more graekans, right?” Clovis looked hopeful.


  Kallum nodded. “They will most certainly take heavy casualties—especially if they lose their queen—and seek out a new nesting ground. So, yes. No more graekans.”

  “Damn!” Sonja looked at her brother, wide-eyed. “Why did Formidor not tell us this?”

  “If I recall correctly, sister: you weren’t there for a biology lesson!” Kallum stuck his tongue out. They all laughed at that.

  “Oh well, problem dealt with!” Sonja grinned, then turned to Clovis. “And if you find that Austin Schwartz, send him to the Bristrunstium. From what I gather, he would be much better as a scholar than a slayer.”

  “I think you are right!” Clovis smirked.

  “Oh, and I think you owe the three of us a drink,” Sonja said with a wink.

  Clovis laughed. “After shift change, I’ll buy you all whatever you damn well please!”

  “Rider, brother, sounds like we have a pleasant moon ahead of us!” Sonja began walking towards the Wounded Wyvern Tavern. “We best enjoy it, for the frozen suns won’t last forever.”

  SORROW'S EMPOWERMENT

  Kullkur’s overheating body convulsed. Streams of tears flowed from his dulled, brown eyes. A cracking noise escaped his clenched teeth, and he began to spit blood. Kullkur’s colleagues grabbed his limbs to hold him down, but whatever was happening to him unleashed too much power. He threw the men off, and his limbs began striking at an unseen foe looming over him.

  Suddenly, he stopped convulsing. His face turned bright red. A bloodcurdling scream erupted from his throat. The scream accompanied another struggle—more aggressive than previous ones—then, without warning, he went limp.

  Shit. Sonja sighed, brushing a hand through her short, curly, blonde hair. She hated seeing one of her slayers go down. Especially when powerless to help. Whatever had taken Kullkur couldn’t have been stopped by her blade.