by J. D. Netto
Xylia darted me a concerned stare. Her jaw hung open.
“He was also taken,” I whispered, glancing at the spot where his body had laid moments before. “But he was not taken because he did not wake. He was just too weak to fight.”
Nathan turned around, looking at the distant smoke that rose from the Village of Tears.
“So the Nephilins and Xavier have within their possession three books and their bearers.” He pursed his lips.
“Xavier said that he still needed our books. He mentioned something about the Diary and the Book of the Justifier.” His eyes turned to me. “He said that the Diary represented Lucifer’s heart, and that the Book of the Justifier symbolized his chest. Without both, Lucifer could not take up his full form.”
With an absent look on his face, Nathan crossed his arms.
“Each book represents a part of Lucifer’s body,” he mumbled to himself, tapping his fingers on his chin.
“Do not forget that the blood-drinkers are also after the third book, the Book of Letters,” Xylia added. Chills shot down my spine as a cold breeze blew about, tugging the dry branches of the surrounding trees.
“They will not rest until they have that book within their grasp,” Demetre said. “They are determined to capture Ballard and open that book. They said that Bartholomew had opened it before. It was also mentioned that the Book of Letters has the power to awaken a dangerous army.”
Arundel listened to our conversation in silence. I was concerned when I saw his colorless lips and pale face.
“Are you alright?” Xylia asked.
“I will survive.” He squinted his eyes, letting out low grunts. “I just need to rest.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” Xylia said with a concerned look.
“Do you think the blood-drinkers will also go after the Nephilins?” Nathan asked.
“I would not doubt it. They murdered an entire kingdom in an attempt to find the book. What would stop them from hunting the Nephilins?”
The white dragon’s sudden groans startled me. It opened its striking blue eyes, raising its massive neck from the ground. It flapped its strong wings, letting out loud screeches.
“What is it doing?” Xylia asked in a loud voice, covering her ears.
“I think it is calling for Sathees,” Nathan shouted.
Arundel let out a piercing cry as he stood to his feet.
“Make it stop,” he begged. “Quiet the beast.” His fingers twitched as his hand released his shoulder, falling against his leg.
The white dragon stood on its four legs, letting out a roar that could have been heard from miles away. Arundel crouched on the ground, falling to his knees and sinking his face in the melting snow. With both of his hands, he covered his ears as he continued to scream.
Markings appeared on his skin. Like ink being used to draw a picture on paper, thin lines emerged on his hands and neck. After a while, I realized what these lines had created.
“He has the same markings as Sathees.” My eyes absorbed the strange scene.
A glowing blue light shone from the strange patterns. They formed the shape of a white dragon.
The roaring beast took flight, heading in the direction of the trees. A strong wind rushed around us as it flapped its large wings.
Arundel’s screams ceased. He uncovered his ears, darting us all a confused stare. He watched the creature soar through the sky. With his hand, he touched his shoulder.
“The pain is gone.” He twirled his arm. “The pain…” He let out a loud laugh. “The pain is gone.”
He turned his hands, setting eyes on the peculiar patterns on his skin. “What are these?” he asked, frowning at the sight.
“Sathees will be very surprised when he sees you,” Demetre remarked with a smile.
There was confusion in all of our faces. Had Sathees told the truth when he said he had never met Arundel?
“What did you feel when the dragon roared?” I asked.
“The moment I laid eyes on it, I felt a warm sensation throughout my body. The pain that struck me at the sound of its growl was similar to a sharp blade cutting through my skin.” His fingers trailed over the lines on his hands.
“Perhaps Sathees will be able to tell us why this happened to you,” said Nathan.
“Where did the white dragon go?” Demetre asked, searching for the creature.
“Who knows? It is a dragon. It does not answer to anyone.” Nathan’s eyes ventured through the gray sky.
“What happened after we left Bellator, Nathan?” Xylia asked with a fervent stare.
Nathan scratched his chin as he bowed his head.
Xylia awaited his response.
“The people brought down the gates of the wall that protected the castle. They marched through the doors like an army longing to destroy its enemy, seeking King Demyon and the Book of Letters. The blood-drinkers returned with torches in their hands, setting the curtains and furniture on fire.” His hands trailed through his ashen hair, and a grave expression was on his face. “King Demyon and I headed to Sathees’ room, only to discover that he was no longer there.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “He ordered me to fly away and come searching for you. I was hesitant about leaving him behind, but he insisted.”
There was great anguish in the words that he spoke.
“I ascended into the sky, catching sight of the uncontrollable riot.” He gnawed on his lips as he creased his brows. “I was attacked by one of the blood-drinkers. At great speed, he chased me through the air. With his strange power, his body transformed into a hand enveloped in smoke. He snatched my ankle, pulling my body toward the ground. While he descended in my direction, my ears were filled with the sound of a white dragon’s roar. I looked up and saw Sathees mounted on the beast. Once the blood-drinker saw the dragon, he fled, disappearing into the sky with all the speed he could muster.”
Silence hovered over us while we listened to his account of the attack.
“It would be foolish of us to think that these blood-drinkers do not have power.” He stared at us. “They were able to cast fear into the hearts of the citizens of Bellator in a matter of hours. We must be careful.”
From the woods behind Nathan emerged two boys with burn marks covering their bodies. The shortest had brown eyes that matched the curls cascading down his face. The other had flaming hair. His eyes were as green as the hills of Mahnor in the spring. Their garments were stained with blood and dirt.
Xylia ran in their direction. They glanced at her with tired eyes. She knelt in front of them.
“Where do you come from?” she inquired.
For a few seconds, they stared at her, speechless. The shortest boy hid his face between his hands.
“What happened to you?” She rested one of her hands on each of their shoulders. They flinched, recoiling away from her touch.
“I am not going to harm you.” Her voice was tender and peaceful.
“They are torturing them,” said the tallest boy. His body trembled as he struggled to stand. “They locked some of us in the prison. I think they are going to burn them all.”
“Some of those people are still alive, Isaac,” Demetre whispered, standing beside me as he watched the boys.
“How did you get here?” Arundel paced in their direction.
“After we heard the commotion of the crowd, our parents told us to hide under our beds.” His lips trembled. “They barged into our house, taking our mom and dad.”
“Will everyone die, Daegan?” asked the shortest boy in a fearful voice.
“I don’t know, Cain,” he answered his brother. “But I know these people will protect us.”
Xylia tightened her hands into fists, rising to her feet. Arundel darted me a determined stare.
“We have to help them.” Xylia turned her gaze in the direction of the rising smoke cloud.
A part of me wanted to ignore my surroundings for a while. Not because I did not care for the people trapped in the Village of Tears, but because my heart
still ached at the thought of my parents’ death. I wanted to mourn in solitude.
“We have to leave at once, Isaac,” Nathan remarked in a strong voice. “There is no time to waste.”
“We will head there now.” I set my eyes on Xylia. “Stay here with the boys. We will be back soon.”
She wrapped her arms around both of them. I knew she wanted to follow us into battle.
“Demetre.” My eyes met his. “Stay with her?”
“Of course.” His voice was low.
“What about Sathees?” Arundel asked. “Will he not join us?”
“There is no time to wait for him,” Nathan replied, turning his head in my direction. “We cannot fly, as that would increase our risk of being spotted. We will have to run as fast as we can.”
“They cannot suspect that we are coming.” There were faint glares of light shining from the patterns on Arundel’s skin while he spoke.
Though I was not fond of going to the village on foot, I knew we could not risk being seen by the blood-drinkers.
“Be careful,” Xylia whispered under her breath. “All of you.”
“We will.” I met her tender stare. The thought of leaving them there on their own brought fear to my heart.
XIX
My companions turned their backs to me and darted their way toward the trees. I let out a soft breath, following them with a heavy heart.
I dodged every branch, leaped over every log while my eyes searched my surroundings for any sign of our enemies. The ground trembled as clashes of thunder reverberated through the sky. The wind howled as it picked up speed.
A sudden sharp pain invaded my mind. My vision darkened while the pain intensified. The sound of whispering voices echoed around me. I came to an abrupt stop.
“Nathan!” I shouted in despair, trailing my fingertips across my eyes. “Arundel!”
My breathing grew shallow as I realized I could no longer hear the blowing of the wind or the sound of thunder.
“You walk to your doom, Isaac.” I heard his voice speaking inside my mind. “Deep inside, you know that you will not triumph in this war.”
I felt as if my heart was about to leap out of my chest. At the sound of his words, fear crawled beneath my skin.
“You know I will be the one to defeat you, Lucifer.” My voice was strong.
He let out a malevolent laugh. “I eagerly await the moment when I can roam around Elysium in flesh and blood. Once I regain my full power, you will be the first vermin to be visited by me.”
A throbbing pain spread through my head. My body trembled at the sound of his voice.
“Three of your companions will open their books soon. My army grows strong.” Silence loomed for a while. “Where is your army, Isaac?” he hissed.
“Isaac, can you hear me?” I heard Nathan’s faint voice.
“I will visit you when you least expect my presence. I will find you, Isaac, and you will meet your doom.”
“Isaac, say something,” Arundel begged in a loud voice.
My eyes shot open. Rain descended from the sky. Flashes of lightning brightened the dark clouds.
“What happened to you?” Nathan’s voice sounded like a hoarse whisper. “You screamed so loud. I thought you were being attacked.”
My head turned to them. “He came to me.” I narrowed my eyes. “Lucifer knows that they have the three books.”
A grave expression came over their faces.
“What do you mean when you say that he came to you?” Arundel asked, confused.
“He invaded my mind. I could not see him. I only heard his voice.”
Nathan lowered his head, resting his left hand on his sword’s grip. “Darker days are ahead of us, my friend. We better be ready for them.”
“We need to keep moving,” Arundel said.
As fast our feet could carry us, we continued running to the Village of Tears. The rain melted the remnants of the snow that still sat on the wet forest floor.
For a moment, I was afraid of what the future was about to bring our way. I did not fear death or pain. I feared the coming of Lucifer. Never had human eyes seen the Dark One in his full form.
Screams invaded my ears as we approached our destination. I covered my nose, trying to block out the smell of burning flesh. I unsheathed my sword, cutting away the thistles and twigs.
“Look up,” Arundel whispered in a trembling voice.
I raised my head, squinting my eyes as the drops of rain continued to strike my face. My jaw dropped as my eyes absorbed the macabre sight. Bodies of men, women, and children hung from the tree branches. Most of them were missing their arms and legs. The rain mixed with the blood from their wounds, creating scarlet drops that dripped to the ground. Amidst the dense vegetation, I saw the flames and the smoke cloud that rose from the burning buildings.
There was the faint sound of devious laughter coming from the blazing village. It sounded as if they were celebrating something.
“We need to get closer.” Nathan got on his knees. He laid his body on the mud-covered ground, crawling his way to the rubble of the wall. Arundel and I followed.
The rain had melted most of the snow, creating a landscape that recalled my darkest nightmares.
The bellowing roar of a white dragon startled us.
“Is that Sathees?” Nathan asked in an alarmed voice as he lifted his head, searching for our companion. But the rising smoke dimmed his vision.
“What do we have here?” I heard Bartholomew’s faint voice shouting. “A white dragon? We will not be hungry for a while.”
Laughs and mockery were heard from amidst the flames.
“Do you think they have Sathees?” I asked in great distress. Grim stares had filled my companions’ faces.
“What do we do?” Nathan scowled in anger, meeting my gaze.
“We distract them.” My voice was cold. “Arundel, make your way to the prison and free those people.” He darted me a confused stare. “Whatever happens, lead them to safety.”
“What are you planning to do?” He furrowed his brow.
My eyes looked into Nathan’s. “Nathan and I will surprise them. We will fly our way through the smoke and fire to strike them.”
“We are outnumbered, Isaac. They might try to kill or capture us.” Arundel said. “What you are saying is madness.”
“While they are preoccupied by their attempt to capture us, you will run to the prison and free your people.” I lifted my head, attempting to catch a better glimpse of the burning village. “We will be fine.”
Arundel’s eyes shied away from mine. “Alright,” he mumbled.
“Are you with me, Nathan?” I bore my eyes into his.
His lips tightened into a brittle smile. “Until the end.”
My wings slithered under my skin, wrenching out of my back. My feet lifted from the ground beneath them. Nathan followed me.
An unbearable odor of burning wood and flesh invaded my nostrils as we rose through the smoke cloud, using it to veil our presence.
My breath failed when I saw the white dragon’s skin covered in gashes and wounds. I surveyed the ground, looking for Sathees, but he was nowhere in sight. With my sword in hand, I aimed to sink my blade into Bartholomew’s heart.
Nathan drew out his sword, which was adorned with colorful jewels. On its cross-guard was etched the symbol of the lion. From the palm of his left hand shone a dim light.
“I will use flashes of light to blind them. That will be our chance to attack,” Nathan informed me, his eyes set on the scene that unfolded before us. “Let us try to wound as many of them as possible.”
The bodies of many Lessers lay lifeless on the rubble of the broken houses. Some were enveloped in flames. Two blood-drinkers stood in front of the rugged prison building. One had hair colored like the night. Curls cascaded in front of his face. He was clothed in a dark leather vest. The other had his face hidden beneath a moss-green hood. He rested against the wooden doors of the prison, using a dagger to cl
ean beneath his fingernails. Trembling hands reached through the barred windows as the people screamed in despair.
“Ready?” I whispered, feeling my heart accelerate in my chest.
“Yes.” At the sight of Nathan raising his left hand, I plunged my way toward Bartholomew. A bright glare of light beamed through the storm.
The blood-drinkers covered their eyes as the strong light touched their skin. Bartholomew cupped his hands over his face and ducked his head.
My arms raised the sword in my hand as I approached my enemy. With all the strength I could muster, I lashed my sword against him, wounding his right leg. The moment my blade lifted, I felt his hand grasp the nape of my neck, thrusting my body to the ground.
As I was dragged against the mud, I used my hands to propel my body upward while flapping my wings. I tilted my face and caught sight of Nathan throwing himself against Bartholomew.
While he was still in the air, the blood-drinker with the dark curls collided with him, hurling his body against the wounded white dragon. His sword fell from his grasp. The beast wailed as Nathan’s body thudded against its rib cage. The blood-drinker with dark curls rushed his way to Nathan, and two others of his kind followed. They pinned his body against the ground.
Bartholomew chuckled. A death stare stamped on his face, his left knee supported his body weight.
“I thought you and your companions had abandoned us all,” he said in a spiteful voice. “By now, you should know that a wound inflicted by your blade against my body will heal in seconds.”
“I was still the one that wounded you.” I wiped the mud from my face. “I was also the one who killed one of your kind.”
The hooded blood-drinker that guarded the prison clumped my way with his head held high. He removed the cloak, unveiling his face. A long, thin scar cut across his forehead. Dark circles surrounded his midnight eyes. His beard hid his cheeks.
“Why did you return, huh?” he inquired, biting the corner of his bottom lip. “You could have run off into the wilderness with your companions.” His eyes narrowed to slits.
“Now, Dionisius, maybe Isaac missed us.” Creases appeared on Bartholomew’s forehead. “Or maybe…he misses his friends.”