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Destruction of a God (A Stolen Soul Book 2)

Page 11

by I. K. Bartlett


  Bazil grinned at the Dragon’s perception, he then stepped toward him and bobbed his head in a mark of respect before saying, “Indeed Primero, it is time for Bray and Gwion to act. They wish to know how to continue.”

  Primero glanced at Bray, who was biting his tongue to stop him saying what was really on his mind and then replied, “King Bazil, I know that your actions are with the best intentions. However, you should have let the two of them go a week ago. Looking at them they are fit to burst.”

  As Bray and Gwion peered up at the Dragon with frustration more than evident on their faces, Bazil laughed and answered, “I know Primero, but there is one question that I must know the answer to before I let them go.”

  Primero lowered his head, all mirth gone from his eyes as he seemed to read Bazil’s mind and said, “I’ll take them. They don’t need me, but the damage that Merihim has done to this world, he must atone for.”

  Hearing his words, Bray smiled and said, “Primero, I believe that murder is on your mind.” He grinned at Gwion and then continued, “It‘s on mine too.”

  Not wanting to play a secondary role to his aggressive father, Gwion, who was determined to have the last word, interrupted by saying, “We’ll free Ciqala and make them pay for his treatment.”

  Seeing he was no longer in charge, Bazil shrugged, before saying, “I almost pity Merihim. The poor creature has definitely got its hands full with you three,” and then marched back into the Palace.

  Bray waited until Bazil was gone and then he asked, “How are we going to get to where we want to go?”

  Primero winked and without answering, simply said, “Climb aboard.”

  Bray and Gwion trusted him implicitly; they moved towards him and as he bent his knee for them, climbed onto his back. Holding on to the edge of his thick scales, Bay waited until Gwion was sitting behind him and then, with nervousness tingeing his voice, said, “Ok Primero, we are ready.”

  Primero did not turn to look; he merely smiled and then shot into the air. With one mighty beat of his wings, he sped high, towards the clouds. The Dragon was moving so fast that he would be no more than a blur to anybody watching. Primero sped towards the clouds and within the blink of an eye, was through them.

  Bray, whose eyes were watering, due to the speed they were moving at, managed to look up. As he did so, he saw a magical gateway forming a short distance in front of them. It glowed brightly and then flashed once, as the Dragon approached it. Bray could see nothing but sky on the other side of the gate, but he could feel Mogya and knew that once they were through it, they would be many years into the future.

  Primero held his wings tightly to his side, streamlining himself, as he flew through the gate. He then spun out of control, as he shot into the sky on the other side. The effort of using so much Mogya caused Primero to lose his bearings momentarily. He dropped, spinning towards the ground, as a dark foreboding shadow flew towards him. The huge Dragon plummeted lower, causing Bray and Gwion to panic.

  However, Primero merely stretched out his wings and beat them as hard as his exhausted body would let him. With this action, they soared a little higher, but, as they flew towards the clouds, Primero spotted the dark shadow, so using the last of his energy reserves; he sped away from it, towards a distant mountain with the ruins of a once great city on its summit.

  As they flew, Bray glanced below and saw a multitude of lights twinkling far into the distance; he knew these were the enemy settling themselves for the night. As his eyes followed the trail of campfires, he saw a flickering orange tinge on the horizon, which was a sure sign that something large was burning. Seeing this, a shudder traced its way down his spine and a dreadful feeling came over him. Shaking it off, he continued to stare at the ground below, trying to learn as much as he could about the area, through which they were flying.

  As they soared above what was once the Great Forest, Bray saw acres of trees lying devastated and uncontrolled flames leaping into the air. Seeing movement in the many clearings left by the mass destruction, he shuddered and looked in horror at hundreds of odd shaped Demons. A large number of them were fighting each other, but dozens of others were committing unspeakable atrocities to a number of creatures, who had once been human, but were now no more than huddled, tortured shells, devoid of souls. As he watched this, Primero’s voice sounded inside his head, ‘It seems that whoever summoned them has lost control. It won’t be long before they finish fighting each other and turn on the remaining creatures of Earit.’ The Dragon then glanced back and aloud, called, “Let us just hope that we can kill Merihim before they have the chance, because I pity anything that falls foul of that many Demons.”

  Feeling an icicle of fear crawling up his spine, Bray was inclined to agree with him, but shrugging off the feeling, steeling himself against it, he glanced down again. As he did so, one of the awful monsters, suddenly looked up and seeing them flying above it, spat a large fireball at Primero.

  The huge Dragon banked to his left, easily avoiding the flaming projectile and then pushed forward. As he did this, his speed increased so much that the dark shadow following him, quickly fell back and within a few seconds was out of sight, having given up on the chase.

  Eventually, Primero headed towards a cave in the side of the mountain. As he approached it, he flared his wings, which slowed him down and said, “That cloud was nothing more than a Merihim spell to detect an enemy. It won’t follow, as it did not find us. However, if we had not avoided it; it would have stuck to us like glue.”

  Bray opened his eyes, which he had shut against the gale that had raged around them as they had flown, and replied, “So you think that we’ve come in undetected.”

  In reply, Primero merely nodded his huge exhausted head. Gwion noticed how tired he was and said, “Land on that ledge Primero and then you can go to sleep.”

  The huge Dragon yawned, as he alighted on the rock ledge in front of the cave and then lumbered into the cool dark cave. Without waiting for the two warriors to climb off his back, he lay down and replied, “Good idea.”

  Bray shook his head and replied, “No, not a good idea, yet.”

  Primero did not reply; he coughed loudly, before making a gagging sound. Lowering his head, he opened his mouth and a small crystal dropped from it. Looking slightly abashed, as Bray picked up the crystal and put it in his pocket, Primero glanced towards the two warriors before saying, “Sorry for the manner of transportation, but if you take this crystal and say ‘now’ to it; I’ll come to help.” Without waiting for an answer, Primero’s head dropped and he started snoring, after curling himself into a humongous ball.

  Gwion shook his head, impressed with the speed, which the Dragon had managed to fall asleep, before hammering his hand into Primero’s neck. The Dragon opened his eyes and spun his sinewy neck towards the two warriors sitting on his back. Gwion saw his grumpy eyes staring at him and said, “It’s all well and good you getting your head down, but we need to get to the plain below. It would take us a week to get there.”

  Primero forced his eyes wide open and then in an apologetic tone, said, “I’m sorry. Of course I’ll take you down the mountain.” He then lifted his head and without further comment, sped from the cave.

  The three of them dropped like a stone with such velocity that Gwion nearly fell from Primero’s back. A few feet above the ground, the Dragon beat his wings powerfully to land softly, a move, for which he was becoming quiet renowned. Bray and Gwion released their grip, as they landed, the quick of their nails returning from a striking white to their normal colour.

  Sliding off Primero’s back, the two warriors steadied themselves. Bray glanced around, before looking up at Primero and saying, “Thank you my friend. Now you can go and rest; if I need you I’ll call.”

  The exhausted Primero bobbed his head once before saying, “Thank you Bray, I’m so tired that I would be of no use.” He then shot into the air and disappeared so fast, up the side of the mountain, that Bray lost sight of him within a few
seconds.

  As the Dragon flew away, Gwion looked around and said, “We seem to be on the plains outside Antia, but if I remember rightly, there are no mountains around there.”

  As his son finished talking, Bray strolled across to the bottom of the cliff, which Primero had just flown up, and touched his hand to it. The rock had been scorched, the charcoal around his fingers giving this away.

  He turned back to Gwion and said, “There was an almighty battle here. Somebody or something used Mogya; I have never seen the like. It must have taken an almighty amount of power to create this mountain.” He paused briefly and continued, “If you get your bearings, you will realise that the ruins we saw on top of the mountain are Antia.”

  With this, Gwion took a deep breath, inhaling with a whistle as he replied, “If Merihim is that powerful we have to be careful,”

  Bray nodded, looking thoughtfully at the mountain, but seemingly ignoring Gwion’s comment, he said, “We need to get out of here as quickly as possible, because surprise is our only advantage against Merihim.”

  Gwion nodded, not needing to answer, and then, as his father indicated with a bob of his head to the east, followed Bray, who was now running away from the mountain.

  The two warriors sped forward; covering mile upon mile of grassland with relative ease. They ran for six hours, the evening drawing in as they neared the end of their journey.

  As the last of the day’s light disappeared, Bray, who was beginning to breathe heavily, came to a halt. He glanced at Gwion and pointed to a wood, which was only a hundred yards away. Walking towards it, he said, “I think we should rest in there.”

  However, Gwion had spotted the glow of a large camp, and was determined to keep going; whilst growing up, Ciqala had been his best friend and he wanted to free him as soon as possible. Pointing towards the glow, he said, “Let’s keep going. We can rest when we are finished.”

  Bray paused briefly; thinking about what his son had just said and then replied, “Ok, lead on then.”

  As the evening’s darkness drew in, the two warriors ran towards the distant fire. After an hour, they came across a strange wall, which stopped them going any further. Seeing that the glow was shining through a heavily guarded door in the wall, they began skirting around it, trying to find a way in.

  Half an hour later, Bray and Gwion found themselves creeping towards a small stone guard hut. They could only see one guard standing outside it, so they made their way as carefully as they could towards the silver-armoured warrior. As they drew nearer, Gwion grabbed his father’s shoulder and, as he turned towards him, mouthed the words, “I’ll get him.”

  Bray did not argue, he simply nodded, knowing that if Gwion failed, he was close enough to kill the guard before he posed too much of a problem. Bray set himself, ready to charge, as he watched Gwion’s dark silhouette creep towards the enemy soldier. As he waited, he heard his heart, which was beating so loud that he was sure that it would bring the guard across to him. Finally, Gwion was close enough; he crouched, as he made his way behind the guard post and then in a flurry of movement, sprinted at the man and broke his neck before he knew that he was under attack.

  Gwion lowered the guard to the floor as gently as he could and then after checking that the hut was empty, beckoned for his father to join him. Bray, who had been watching ever so closely, saw the indication from his son and sprinted across to him. As he drew nearer, he saw that Gwion had dragged the enemy soldier inside the small hut.

  Gwion waited until his father was standing next to him, before opening the wooden shutter, which hung over the window. As he opened it, he peeked through, seeing that Merihim’s troops had formed a depraved camp, in which, they were carrying out acts that would revolt even the hardiest of souls. Bray and Gwion steeled themselves against these sights and clambered through the window.

  Dropping down on the other side with as little noise as possible, the two of them lowered themselves onto one knee. They then glanced around and saw that they were directly behind the cages, which held Ciqala and the Ancient ones.

  If they had not been any wiser, they would have thought this a fluke, but Bray and Gwion knew that Mogya allowed no accidents. Accepting that Mogya meant for them to find the cages, the two warriors crept through the camp towards them. As they moved through the shadows, they spotted a number of drunken warriors stumbling past them, without their helmets, allowing the two invading warriors to see their disfigured heads.

  Every now and then one of the enemy soldiers would notice the two warriors invading their camp. However, every one of them was too drunk to realise that they were not their own and would only require the threat of violence to proceed on their way.

  The two warriors drew closer to a huge roaring fire where a mass of drunken bodies were revelling in the mother of all parties. As they neared it, Gwion saw a mass of tall elephant grass behind the cages and indicated for Bray to follow him. Eventually, the two warriors were close enough to the cages to see Ciqala still struggling to get out.

  The Ancient ones seemed jaded; almost bereft of hope, but he was still fighting hard, even though his fur was ragged and he looked as if he had not eaten for a while. As Gwion crept through the long grass behind the cages towards his friend, Ciqala stopped trying to break free and stood perfectly still, as if listening to something. The furry Wuzen then sat down, staring out of the bars towards the grass.

  Gwion and Bray crept even closer, keeping one eye on the cages and the other on the raucous warriors dancing around the huge fire, swigging ale from tankards. Bray stopped short, keeping watch as Gwion approached Ciqala’s cage. Gwion reached forward and was about to see if he could open the cage door, but Ciqala leapt to his feet and hissed, “Don’t touch it Gwion. It is designed to weaken any, who use Mogya.”

  Gwion paused and lowered his hand. As Ciqala shuffled towards him, he asked, “How do I get you out?”

  For a moment, Ciqala held his chin thoughtfully and his huge blue eyes lit up as he realised what the two of them would have to do. He moved closer to the bars and whispered, “You must kill Merihim.” Seeing the look of horror on Gwion’s face he continued, “As Merihim only exists in spirit form here, the only way this can be done is uniting it with its physical body.”

  Gwion glanced at the Wuzen curiously and asked, “How am I supposed to do that little miracle then?”

  Ciqala reached through the bars, careful not to touch them, and stroked Gwion’s hand gently, before saying, “You and your father must go back to the year in which your Grandparents first met and capture the genderless creature when it was still mortal.”

  He paused briefly and then continued, “A month after the battle in which they met, Merihim managed to break from Hackich for a brief period. Mogya recaptured it, but for a week, Merihim walked the halls of the Velumian Palace. Once you have trapped it you must then bring it back here. Once here you must get the spirit of Merihim to merge with its mortal body.”

  Pushing his face closer to the bars, his voice took on a slightly excited intonation as he added, “This will make it vulnerable and easier to kill. Since the Great War, Merihim has become so powerful that if you kill it in mortal form when you go back, you will open a gate, which will allow its spirit to enter the world in that time. If this happens our lives will all be over.”

  Gwion paused thoughtfully and asked, “Why can’t we go back to before The Great War and kill it then?”

  Ciqala tipped his head and then, as if explaining to a small child, replied, “Because if you did, the world would be completely different, your Grandmother and Grandfather would never have met, so you would not exist.”

  Gwion was about to answer, but as he opened his mouth, a spear clattered against the cage. Spinning around, he saw dozens of silver-armoured warriors charging towards him with a number of strangely shaped Demons - obviously still under Merihim’s control - lumbering behind them.

  Ciqala skidded back as another spear bounced off the bars, this time much closer to
Gwion’s head. As Gwion ran from the cage, back towards his father, Bray called, “Come on Gwion, we have to get out of here.”

  As soon as the words out of Bray’s mouth, he regretted shouting. The enemy warriors heard his voice and a squad near the gate, which they had snuck past earlier, came running towards them. Hope fled, as Bray and Gwion watched the soldiers charge towards them. Realising that the enemy had them surrounded, they both allowed Mogya to course through them, preparing to fight to the last. Bray glanced towards the oncoming soldiers and balked in horror, as he watched a company of Vampires join the charging enemy soldiers.

  Grandchild’s Rescue

  As Bray and Gwion prepared to meet the screaming horde, they drew their swords and tensed. Suddenly, a loud and very familiar hunting horn echoed around the walls, which made the enemy force slow their run, before glancing around uncertainly. They then came to a halt, as another horn sounded, but this time from the east.

  One of the Vampires, blood still dripping from its lips, pointed towards the wall and screamed, “Warriors of Merihim leave the Demons to devour those two. The remainder of us will drive those curs outside from our lands.”

  With this, the silver-armoured warriors and the un-dead beasts sprinted towards the eastern wall. The Mogya coursing through Bray stopped him fearing for his own safety, but, as would be natural for any father, terror consumed him, as he thought of what could happen to Gwion.

  Gwion, however, grinned confidently and winked at his father, instilling the aging warrior with the assurance that he would be fine. Gwion then roared defiantly and sprinted towards the un-godly creatures coming at him. A split second later, Bray followed. They both crashed into the unorganised enemy ranks, their Mogya enriched arms hacking through the assorted, scaly bodies with ease.

  As Bray stabbed a cat-like Demon through the forehead, he suddenly found four massive beasts, the like he had never seen before, confronting him. The first of the massive creatures shook its troll like head and then let out a loud roaring laugh. The bull shouldered Demon then snorted and rushed at Bray. However, Gwion had anticipated the move and had manoeuvred himself close enough, so that as the beast charged, all he had to do was stick out his leg and trip it up.

 

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