by Steven Drake
The rapidly cooling metal sizzled, hissing in the darkness, and Alistair roared in pain. More lightning bolts struck him in quick succession, flowing through the cooled metal directly into his seared skin. Darien could well imagine the terrible pain his enemy now experienced, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be enough to stop him. Alistair staggered back under Rana’s barrage. Darien froze the wet rock beneath Alistair’s feet, and he fell backwards, landing on his posterior with a thump. Rana’s barrage ended, her magic momentarily expended, but the pain and the fall had managed to break Alistair’s concentration, and the curtain of the void lifted, evaporating like a thin fog in a hot morning sun.
The trolls and a few Shades were positioned at least a dozen yards behind Alistair on the path, single file, just as the party had been. An exchange of projectiles began between the two sides of the ravine immediately, and chaos reigned. Nia and Jerris tossed fireballs across the ravine, Ceres drew her hunting bow, while Geoffray, Oswald, and Tobin set up a wall with their shields. The trolls took up bows and began firing.
Alistair rose to his feet, but Darien pressed the attack, focused on making his aetherblade longer and brighter, and formed a shadow void in his off hand. Darien tossed the shadow void at Alistair’s feet while preparing to slash down from above with the aetherblade. Alistair finished recovering just in time to block the shadow void with his own sword, but the void didn’t dissipate instantly, and while Alistair was forced to hold the blade at his feet, Darien’s sword slashed down. For a moment, Darien thought the battle would be over. Alistair had no way to block the blow. The light magic would rip through him, splitting the gap between his shoulder armor and his leather hauberk. However, to Darien’s complete shock, Alistair reached up, and grabbed the aetherblade out of the air, holding the blade of light as if it were solid.
That Alistair had the power and control to physically hold an opponent’s spell was truly impressive , but while the desperate block perhaps saved his life, it came at great cost. The light blade tore through Alistair’s dark leather glove, and into his hand. Black blood spurted from the wound, and Darien pushed down harder. Alistair started to conjure a shadow void at the point of his sword, but Darien twisted his body and pulled his sword away. The violent motion tore through Alistair’s hand, severing the thumb and muscle down to the wrist.
For a second time, Alistair howled in awful pain. The green in his eyes grew brighter. Darien took a few steps backwards, and returned his enemy’s glare. Both he and his opponent were injured, but Darien now held a decisive advantage. Alistair would not be able to properly wield his greatsword. Alistair held his ground, but made no move to attack, holding a shadow void at the apex of his sword, which he held, somehow, with just one hand.
A moment later he threw it forward. Darien brought forth his own to counter, and the two spells collided midway between the two men. The air rushed in swirling fits around them, and the earth shook, but the attack had only been a distraction, for at that moment, two Shades charged down the path to aid their commander. Darien took a few steps back and readied himself, but they leapt high over him. They were going for Rana. Darien leapt to catch them, and managed to grab the first by an ankle, hauling him down to the ground. As the Shade fell, Darien raised a spike of earth to impale his enemy through the chest. Darien made a quick tactical decision, and decided to leave the second Shade to Rana’s skill, so he turned his eyes back down the path to see two more running forward. This time, however, he knew what was coming, so he conjured a shadow void, and lifted it upwards, then held it a few feet above his head. The two Shades had leaped too soon, and both were pulled into the void and obliterated in an explosion of bloody gore.
The remains of the destroyed Shades splattered and fell upon the rock. Darien’s head and shoulders now were stained crimson with blood. His face and hands had become sticky. Pieces of the enemies and their clothing hung from his shoulders. Both the party, and the enemy force had ceased their fighting momentarily and stared at him, horror written on their faces. Darien felt their fear, and drank it in. He became calm, serene, and felt the currents of magical energy flow around him. He stared blankly ahead, his face unflinching, calm, without any hint of feeling, an emotionless instrument of destruction, an Executioner preparing to carry out the sentence. The aetherblade shifted into a swirling darkness. Alistair made a motion with his injured hand, and his force started to retreat, while he held his ground.
But the battle was not over, as Alistair loosed a bestial roar, and charged forward with the greatsword awkwardly in his right hand, and a ball of shadows in his injured left. Alistair had slowed visibly, and his attack was easily dodged. Darien spun to his left, and ripped the aetherblade across the back of Alistair’s knee, tearing a deep gash. A black streamer of blood flew along, following the pull of the shadows, and was drawn into the void of Darien’s sword. Darien hopped backwards again, away from the waterfall, to regain distance. Alistair still had the advantage of physical strength, and raw magic power.
Alistair turned again, and his eyes glowed brighter green than Darien had ever before seen, and he broke into one final frantic charge back down the path, swinging his greatsword with one hand. Darien gave ground, shocked by the speed and skill which the Abyss was able to use his sword one handed. The frenzied attack kept Darien on the defensive, and he could find no opening to attack. As he continued to give ground, the path grew narrower. Darien needed to circle around to Alistair’s back again, but the Abyss seemed fully aware of that, and gave him no opening.
Finally, Rana provided an opening, as a streak of white lightning tore through the air and into Alistair’s back. Darien swung his aetherblade to take off his opponent’s head, but Alistair lurched to the side just in time, and the swing only relieved him of an ear. Alistair stumbled to the right and Darien shoved between his enemy and the rock face. He pushed hard against Alistair in an attempt to drop the enemy into the river, but the stubborn foe managed to steady himself, as Darien ran back up the path, to put distance between himself and the Abyss. Alistair lumbered back up the path, still unwilling to give up. He limped from the wound in his left knee, and blood poured from his maimed left hand and the side of his head.
Darien felt a surge of terrible confidence. He had won. He’d beaten Alistair, and now he would finish it. He took a few slow steps forward, pulled by an invisible force. His mind clouded, set upon his enemy’s destruction. He inched forward in slow, mechanical, cautious steps. Alistair gritted his teeth, and drew up his weapon, then drove it down into the path, burying half the blade in the rock. Darien’s aetherblade hummed with dark energy as he drew it back, and prepared to charge, then something tugged on his arm.
The shock of it hit him like a splash of water in the face, and he turned, wide eyed, to see Rana holding him back.
“Just let him go,” Rana’s face showed concern, but also weariness. She was exhausted and injured. Her helm had been knocked off, and a bright crimson streak had appeared on her forehead. “Let’s collapse the path so they can’t follow us, and get out of here.” Darien paused, suddenly aware that he’d been caught up in the battle. The thrill of beating Alistair had taken him, and he’d begun to lose himself, even without drawing the Demon’s Blade.
He started to speak, but just as his lips parted, everything exploded into chaos. One moment, he was starting to say something, and the next he was flying through the air. He saw a flash of spinning images, changing too fast for his eyes to focus, the sky and land switched places, and the world spun. He felt weightless as though he were falling into nothing in one of his dreams. He felt the spray of the waterfall buffet him on the right side, and then, the sharp impact as he crashed into the rock face behind the waterfall. He started to black out, but managed to cling to consciousness. He got to his knees, vomited, and started to cast his eyes about for Rana.
There! She lay a few feet to his left, further back down the path. The weight of her armor had no doubt arrested her fall much more quickly. The world
continued to teeter back and forth, and he shut his eyes to try to regain his sense of balance. When he opened his eyes, he saw what had happened. The path where he’d fought Alistair was completely destroyed, replaced with a gaping hole. Rock dust hung in the air. The tapping sound of gravel falling, settling, and tumbling down the cliff echoed through the ravine.
Alistair himself was gone, consumed by whatever spell he’d used to produce the explosion. A cold truth settled upon Darien the Executioner. Had Rana not stopped him, he would have charged Alistair, and fallen into this last trap. The remaining enemies could be seen hastily retreating the same way they’d come. He shuddered and crawled over to Rana. He put a hand to her neck, still alive, but unconscious. Stupid! Careless! Fool! He cursed himself a hundred times over for his uncharacteristic loss focus. Alistair would never retreat from a battle, not with such injuries. Even if he survived, the Master would never allow him to live, maimed as he was. I should have suspected it, I would even have done so myself, had the battle gone otherwise.
Darien remained kneeling next to Rana, waiting for her to awaken, and gathering himself. His ears still rung loudly from the explosion, and he began to feel his injuries. He had broken at least one rib, and his back felt nearly as bad. At least he hadn’t broken that. His body was covered with numerous small cuts from the flying rubble of the explosion, and the magical exertion left him feeling drained and insubstantial, a thin wispy wraith barely clinging to the physical world.
For several minutes, he waited, heedless to the rest of the world. He raised his head to see the rest of the party standing somberly farther up the path on the other side of the ravine, but something was wrong. Why hadn’t they come to help, and why did they look so dejected? After all, he’d won the battle, and the enemy wouldn’t be following. As he wondered, Tobin started down the path towards him. He started slowly, then broke into a trot. Darien looked back down at Rana, then wiped the dust from her forehead. If she died, it was his fault, his foolishness. He slammed a hand on the rock, and looked up to see Tobin, wearing a most grave expression.
“Tobin, what is it,” Darien said. “Is everyone all right.”
“Well, ah, no. I’m afraid not.”
“What happened?” Darien said. Tobin continued to huff and stammer uncharacteristically. Then it hit him, as though Alistair had kicked him in the gut again. Jerris wasn’t among the group standing on the far side of the ravine. “Jerris! Where’s Jerris?”
“Just calm down now,” Tobin raised his hands, and took a step back. “You’re hurt, so try to stay calm.”
“Tobin, where is Jerris?.” His voice dropped low and threatening.
“He… he fell,” Tobin turned away and looked down at the rocks.
“What happened? Tobin tell me.”
“We thought it was over, then there was that explosion. Rock everywhere, boulders flying through the air. I thought sure you were done.” Tobin turned back to Darien, his head hung low, his bushy beard dusted with gray.
“Niarie got hit with something, knocked her out cold, then she fell into the ravine. Jerris… he tried to catch her. I tried to stop him. I knew he’d just fall in with her, but the damned fool whelp wouldn’t let go.”
Jerris, not Jerris. Darien put his head on the ground and slammed his fist into the stone again, and again, until the skin of his knuckles tore and bled. Of all the things that could have happened, of all the casualties, not Jerris. The one person whose life meant more than his, the one person he had wanted to keep out of danger, the one person he felt he could not lose, was gone, maybe dead, probably dead, if he were honest with himself. No, I won’t accept that. I’ll do whatever it takes. If I have to spend years searching this desert, if I have to abandon the quest, I won’t stop until I find him. Even if the others oppose me, even if I have to fight them all, I won’t abandon Jerris here. The faerie’s prophecy says I’m the one who is supposed to die, not him.
“Well, at least the two of you are alive,” Tobin said. Darien barely heard.
The rest of the party soon joined Tobin, and they made a hasty camp behind the waterfall. With Alistair defeated, the path destroyed, and the enemy in full retreat, this spot was as good as any. Geoffray, after a considerable effort, managed to raise a wall of rock high enough to protect from arrows. The loss of the two youngest and most energetic of the group hit the travelers hard, though none harder than Darien the Executioner.
Rana lay unconscious on the stone. How badly had she been hurt? When would she awaken? Would she wake at all? The thought of bearing the responsibility for her death made him feel sick, especially after the way he’d suspected her, the way he’d turned on her so easily.
It was all his fault. Jerris was gone, Rana was badly injured, and it was his fault. Had he kept control, had he kept his focus on the situation, had he let go of that overpowering desire to wholly destroy his enemy, he could have saved them both, but in the moment of truth, he had become what he truly was, a living weapon, just as Alistair had said.
Darien had expended all his physical strength, and all his magical energy on the fight. Even so, the only thing he wanted to do was push forward, to start searching for Jerris. He started to summon the energy to stand, but then looked down at the unconscious Rana. He could not just leave her, and he was in no shape to carry her. His back and stomach hurt, stabbing him with new fury at each breath. His mind started shutting down. It became difficult to maintain his thoughts. He did not want to sleep, he fought it, but in the end, exhaustion finally overcame his determination. As sleep finally took him, a furious resolve formed in his mind. Once he awakened, he would not rest again until Jerris was again by his side. With that stern focus in mind, he drifted off with the splashing water still echoing in his ears, and the cold, rain slicked rock beneath him.
A Note from the Author:
Thank you for reading. I am an amateur author, and this is my second novel. If you missed the first part of the Demon’s Blade saga, you may purchase it here. If you enjoyed this novel, please leave a review here. Reviews are the most important factor in getting more people to read, and I appreciate the support. If you didn’t enjoy it, I welcome constructive criticism so that I can become a better writer. If you are an artist and really enjoyed the book to the point where you’re inspired to do cover art, feel free to contact me at [email protected].
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[DJ1]Huh?? Something missing here.
[DJ2]Better word? Peaceful doesn't seem to fit Darien. Passive?
[DJ3]Not sure what you're trying to say here.
[DJ4]Sentence does not make sense.
[DJ5]If Geoffray knew, why was he impressed earlier?