The Savage Peak: A Morgalla prequel

by Jon David

  While Morgalla was more of a surgeon when it came to the use of Hero, Delilah was the brawler, hacking and slashing away at her enemies. The two together seemed unstoppable.

  Finally, the remaining five were able to separate the women, but they were no less deadly. Delilah was impressed by the skills of Makrus’s minions as they struck cut here and there. She found herself battling three of the demons. Two fell to her skills, but the third was a massive beast wielding a hammer.

  Delilah felt the hard stone at her back as she was struck. Her sword fell from her hand, and she saw the monster coming at her, already in full swing with his hammer. Morgalla charged and slashed with Hero across the back of his legs. He roared but only for a brief moment. His voice was cut silent by the rebound of Delilah’s weapon.

  Both women breathed fire from their lungs; they were surrounded by the dust and muck of their dead enemies. All was silent.

  “Good to see you not hesitating,” Delilah said.

  A smile broke through Morgalla’s fatigue. “How did you find me?”

  “Persistence.” Delilah rose and took her by the arm. “Child, we must leave.”

  “No, there’s something I need to do first.”

  Delilah’s clawed hand grasped her student’s arm tighter. “Don’t be a fool. After all I went through to find you?”

  “Trust me, I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

  Morgalla fought her way out of Delilah’s grasp, and she ran back down into the ruins of the mines. Delilah followed but stopped at the entrance.

  “Child,” she shouted.

  The portal, throughout the fight had been nothing but a stone wall, came to life again and figures emerged. Demon soldiers under Makraka’s command charged with weapons drawn. Delilah did not move, but she clutched her weapons tight. The general himself emerged, riding atop a winged dracon.

  Makraka surveyed the area and saw what was left of Makrus’s minions around him. He commanded his troops to fan out. They ran past Delilah up the steps leading to the castle.

  Makraka squinted to Delilah. “What are you doing here, woman?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “None of your concern. Stay out of my way, and we will have no problems.”

  “I’m just here for my student.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your child.”

  Makraka rode past her and up to the castle.

  Makrus was in a quandary about the goings on in his domain. His stand faltered as his castle shook. He watched as the rest of his servants grew concerned. What filth had dared to soil his kingdom?

  Only his most loyal underlings remained around him, human and demon. He shouted orders in a stammering voice, but it was clear that the mighty Lord of Dracon Peak was cracking.

  “My lord.”

  “What?” he screamed.

  “We have activity at the portal.”

  Makrus’s attitude changed in an instant. “W…what? What kind of activity?”

  Out of nowhere a winged beast arrived and landed, knocking some subordinates out of the way and others to the ground. Makraka sat on the saddle, the leather reigns in his clawed hands. The beast snarled, and Makrus fell to the ground. His stone-like face displayed an expression of disgust. His yellow eyes, the smallest feature on his face, burned to the Lord of Dracon Peak who had fallen on his back.

  Makraka’s grip tightened on the leather straps as his winged ride snarled.

  Makraka came down, his boots made a loud thump. He looked around but didn’t focus on Makrus.

  “M…Makraka. So good to see you again. You honor us with your presence. It’s always nice to have a…”

  Makraka growled at him. “Silence.” After a brief inspection at the foreboding castle carved from the mountain, his tone changed. “An impressive little empire you have made for yourself here.”

  “All for the glory of the Dark One.”

  “Still the sniveling little shit sack, Makrus?”

  “Father thought I was worthy of this kingdom.”

  Makraka’s reply was immediate with the back of his hand. “You besmirch our father’s great name. He knew you were a coward, which was why he turned you into a third-rate manager of a mine.”

  “I have provided the means for your conquests, brother.”

  “What are you hiding, Makrus?”

  Lord Makrus scurried on the ground away from his brother “I…nothing.”

  “Yes…yes you are,” Makraka said as he stepped slowly forward, unsheathing his sword. “Were you hoping you would never be discovered? Shall I give you a reminder of whom you still serve after all these years?”

  Makrus held up his trembling hands. His eyes then met Bruk, his loyal bodyguard.

  “Bruk. Defend your master.”

  Everyone’s attention was on the bodyguard who stood silent and still for a moment. He drew his sword slowly. Makraka was motionless though curious about his intentions. Bruk stepped forward but pointed the blade at Makrus who cowered, shielding his head.

  Makraka touched Bruk’s shoulder. “I appreciate your hatred of him, but if anyone is going to kill this worthless pile of dracon shit, it should be family.”

  The faux lord’s jaw dropped as the souls all around him, including those who’d served him for years, all erupted in joy.

  It took only a moment for Makraka’s blade to bring an end to the reign of Dracon Peak. The general cleaned his blade and noticed the few humans around who were all skeptical about his next move.

  Giles stepped forward. “My lord, I speak for everyone here when I say welcome. We will all be more than happy to continue our services during your reign…”

  Makraka wasn’t looking at the human but focused on Bruk. He came up with a test of his loyalty.

  “Slaughter all humans in this castle.”

  Bruk did not waver for an instant. Screams filled the courtyard.

  Delilah arrived, not bothered by the slaughter.

  She could not disguise her hate as the general marched on. His minions, a dozen at least in attendance, beamed some hateful glares back at her. One of them smirked, daring her to try something.

  Makraka, joined by his entourage, entered the mines and followed the trail back where they had entered. He wanted to see the operation. They arrived at the portal chamber, and the general peered into the nothingness before him.

  He stepped through the smoke and witnessed nothing but calm, quiet and dark. No souls were present from the darkness before him. He turned his back but then stopped.

  “What is it, my lord?” one of his subordinates asked.

  Makraka looked over his shoulder to the void before him. “There’s someone alive in there. Go…find and kill them.”

  25

  The Mournful Cry of Crows

  Almost all of the humans were out of the mines, thanks to the secret exit. Dillon groaned through his injuries, insisting that everyone leave before him. Mylo was one of the last, but he hesitated, taking one last check of the mines.

  “Boy, come on,” Dillon ordered.

  “We can’t leave without Morgalla.”

  Dillon walked up to him and grabbed him by the arm. “Son, I’m sorry, but she might be dead.”

  “And she might be alive, too. She risked herself to help us, we should do the same for her!”

  “You go back in there, and you’re gonna die.”

  They both looked to the tunnel and heard someone coming and fast. They were relieved to see the demon girl come round the corner. She was out of breath, and her body was screaming in pain. She collapsed to her knees, and human companions came to her aid.

  “You all right?” Mylo asked.

  “I will be. We all need to get out of here, now.”

  Soon the group had gathered out in the woods. Smoke billowed out of the hole and they coughed, fighting for precious air. They caught their breath and soon a feeling of calm befell them.

  “Morgalla, the prism.”

  Hearing Wulf’s reminder snapped
Morgalla back to the reality of the situation. She stood in a clearing of trees, a finger tapping her chin. She turned and saw everyone watching her.

  “Did you forget where that damn thing is?” Dillon asked.

  Morgalla replied with a blank stare and wide eyes. “Um…no.”

  She felt their annoyance and patience growing thin and had to remember where she’d buried it and fast. Morgalla sought out the hive that she had seen before and found it.

  Bingo. That means the rock is…

  She spun around and found the secret spot. Her jaw dropped. The rock had been moved and a massive, empty hole was in its place.

  “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?” Dillon asked.

  The demon girl was at a loss for words. She had let them down and didn’t know what to do next. Her mouth opened, but she remained silent.

  A light breeze caused Morgalla to check her surroundings. Their eyes all focused on the sky and watched the sun as it was shrouded by clouds that rolled in. It was all too fast for it to be natural. The wind picked up in speed, and many in the group found it difficult to remain standing.

  Wulfric whispered one word, “Deadra.”

  Sure enough…his fears were justified as they all turned and saw a figure moving through the trees. One by one the trees came down, cracking and crashing to the forest floor. The witch floated on air, high above the ground, slowly making her way towards them. The look in her eyes was that of a creature possessed with the desire to kill.

  Morgalla looked and saw the bag that the witch kept over her shoulder. At the very top, the prism was peeking out.

  “Sheriff, get your people out of here,” Wulfric commanded as he hobbled forward. “She’ll kill you. She’ll kill us all.”

  Dillon ignored him. Instead, he shouted a command, “Shoot her.”

  The sky filled with deafening booms as they used their weapons to no avail on her. Deadra held up her hands, and the bullets struck an invisible shield in front of her. Her cackles filled the air.

  Deadra raised her hands, and the roots of the trees burst from the ground. They wrapped around her foes and dragged them into the earth.

  Wulfric spoke a counter-curse, and everyone was freed from her spell. The wizard, using his voice and hands, shot spells at his opponent who deflected them with ease. He was tiring, and with an explosion before him, was knocked to the ground.

  The others should have heeded Wulfric’s warning to run. Deadra clawed at the air, snarling and hissing as she spoke her incantations. Her spells made some people’s bodies fly apart like leaves in the wind. Their screams echoed as they drifted away.

  Deadra saw Mylo and grinned, the boy’s knife still fresh on her mind. She shot a jinx at him. He was petrified with terror. Dillon pounced, grabbing Mylo. The two of them crashed to the ground, avoiding the spell by inches.

  Morgalla ran around the large oaks and pines, dodging the attacks from their foe. She saw black blood dripping to the earth below from Mylo’s wound. It burned nearby foliage like acid.

  Morgalla located some knives and blades with black metal. She waited for her chance. She jumped from behind a tree and flung a weapon to Deadra. The witch sensed the impending attack before it happened and swatted the blade away. Morgalla was running out of cover as she ducked behind another tree as a shield. Twice more she hurled knives at Deadra, to no avail. The witch was too powerful.

  All around them the trees were destroyed and crumbled to the ground. Dillon had pulled Mylo to his feet, commanding the boy to run for his life.

  Deadra stepped up her attack, raising her hands to the sky. Dark clouds swirled high above, and flashes of light appeared within. The rumbling built louder and louder until it shook the ground. Surely everyone at the castle and miles away in the town could see and feel it.

  The wizard, despite his old, aching bones, got up to his knees and started his counter-curse. Deadra summoned lightning, but her opponent’s spell was able to shield the area, deflecting the blast. A strike hit the side of the mountain with such intensity that the inhabitants all fell to the ground.

  With a blast large enough to damage the foundation, soon tremors and cracks broke through the stone of Dracon Peak.

  Deadra didn’t stop her attacks. By then, all of her energy had focused on Wulfric who could only deflect her advances once more, driving the bolt of lightning up and through the castle itself.

  “Deadra,” he cried. “Do not betray your own people again.”

  She hissed and spat a mouthful of blood at his feet. The ground sizzled.

  “I have failed you as a teacher, Deadra. But do not make your own people suffer.”

  Morgalla knew this had to end soon. She climbed one of the only trees left standing and ventured out on a limb. The tree shook, its own foundation weak and ready to crumble. Deadra had focused all her attention on the wizard, her hands outstretched and ready to finish Wulfric. His strength had left him.

  Morgalla scrambled along the limb as it was collapsing. She leapt. Summoning Hero to her hand, she came down on top of the witch. Deadra noticed her too late, a second after the blade had cleaved through her flesh.

  Both women fell to the ground. Deadra screamed and convulsed. Morgalla scrambled away when she saw the still twitching hands on a bed of leaves. Deadra continued to shout incantations in a foreign language, but nothing happened. Morgalla stood, her hand clutched tightly around her sword. The wind increased all around them as she approached her defeated adversary who cast a defiant gaze at the demon girl.

  Morgalla was conflicted as she gaped at the helpless creature before her.

  Wulfric shouted over the brewing storm, “She’s too dangerous. Kill her!”

  The demon hesitated but only for a moment. Morgalla’s time on this planet had been educational. She realized Delilah was right, and sometimes harsh violence was needed. This was one of those times where she’d let her actions speak.

  With a lightning strike, Hero answered the call, and Deadra went silent.

  In an instant the air was still, the clouds had dissipated, and the sun returned. Crows flew in lazy circles, swirling in the bright blue sky. They let out mournful cries for their mistress who was gone.

  Morgalla recovered the Prism of Akubar from her bag and held the diamond-like gem which gleamed with magic in her palm. She turned to Wulfric. He was on his knees, his body heaving. Dillon staggered onto the scene, an expression of relief on his face. Mylo hurried to join them.

  “I told you to run,” Dillon said.

  Morgalla felt the relief from the souls around her build into a flame of joy. With their enemies defeated and the prism in their possession, there was a ray of hope for their future.

  Their joy was short-lived as a tremendous crack echoed through the valley, shaking them all. Dillon and Morgalla both stared up at the mountain above them and looked to each other.

  “Uh-oh.”

  They moved as fast as they could, helping the injured and weak as the troupe ran from the mountain.

  Elsewhere at the castle, Makraka and his minions all felt the tremor as well. The ground beneath them started to list to one side.

  “It is time we leave,” the general ordered.

  Delilah took to the sky.

  There was no argument as the group of demons scampered to safety. The mountain shook as it started to rip apart due to Deadra’s attacks. People in the town of Freedom Ridge looked on as the castle on the horizon crumbled.

  Makraka and the rest of the demons made it just in time. They peeked over a ledge of stone as Dracon Peak crumbled, taking with it the magnificent castle of the faux Lord Makrus.

  The crash shook the ground for miles. It sent up a cloud of dirt and debris that filled the valley and covered all creatures in dust and filth.

  Makraka stood with his soldiers atop the ledge. When the dust had cleared, the new side of what was left of the mountain was exposed to them. On the side of the cliff, nothing was left of the mines. The portal to Hell was bathed in su
nlight on the sheer, new precipice.

  26

  A Welcome Sight

  For Morgalla and her friends, Freedom Ridge was a pleasant sight. The sun even came out to say hello and bathe the town in brilliant, golden light. A small band of Dillon’s deputies, the Izari, and Morgalla, all entered the town. The explosion of the mines had awakened the entire populace, and they came out to see what happened, greeting their liberators.

  The mayor made her way through the crowd of people and ran up to the sheriff.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “Makrus’s mining operation is done for, ma’am.”

  Many people seemed shocked at the news.

  “What? He’ll surely seek revenge.”

  “I don’t think so, Madam Mayor. We got something that will help.

  They all gathered in the town square by the massive eagle statue. The sheriff motioned for Morgalla to step forward. She reached into the sack she carried and took out the prism and placed it in the mouth of the bird. The Prism of Freedom Ridge had found its final resting place.

  Everyone gasped when they saw that the girl, normally with raspberry hair, had the face of a demon now. Sounds of disapproval erupted from the crowd, and Morgalla felt the tidal wave envelope her heart. She closed her eyes and turned around. Her eyes, now lilac, saw the look of horror on most of the faces before her. One of them pointed and said, “She’s one of them.”

  “Wait,” Dillon shouted. “She helped get the gem. She and the Izari were instrumental in saving us all.”

  The people were not convinced, shouting still. Morgalla couldn’t look at them, only staring at the ground.

  “She destroyed the mine and also got rid of the witch for us!”

  Dillon’s words only calmed the mob down a little. Morgalla glanced up and saw the mayor herself, fear apparent in the woman’s eyes. She looked away.

  A voice called out, “Wait.”