“Get up!” Lady Crow ordered, “Micah will be back soon, you need to be ready for him. Do you remember the plan?” she inquired.
Cassius nodded enthusiastically a devilish grin painted across his face.
Lady Crow’s eyes were solid white and a sinister smirk formed on her old, withered face.
Cassius scuttled off to conceal himself in the undergrowth. Hiding like a beast in the muck and mud, entangled in the shrubs and bushes he sat and waited.
Cassius then wormed his way through the undergrowth of the swamp, gradually making his way towards Micah’s location.
Micah had been sent towards the heart of the swamp to collect firewood, Lady Crow knew that a swamp ogre lived there but she wasn’t worried.
Cassius scuttled through the tangled brush and slimy wood, his vision revealing only heat signatures, making his navigation effortless. He saw exactly where Micah was and he was closing in on him.
“Time to make some magic!” cackled Cassius as he hid behind a tree.
He bent over and tensed as his skin bubbled and crackled. It began to stretch and shape over him as sweat poured down his face and he scrunched his face in agony, the local wildlife darted away as panic hit them.
Finally he had finished transforming and was now a perfect clone of Umbra down to the last detail of fraying around the edge of his cloak. He emerged reborn as Umbra in almost every respect.
He could not however perform magic; he was a changeling not a sorcerer.
Beads of sweat ran down his cheek, he was exhausted from the transformation and he panted heavily.
Crouching down in the muck of the swamp interior Micah caught a nauseating whiff of something strange. He hadn’t smelled such a stench before, it was almost sickening and it was getting closer.
He looked around at the mighty fallen trees dotted with fungi, the vines that entangled like constrictors, and the strange shapes moving around.
The mist was getting thicker and the stench stronger, Micah dropped his bundle of wood and drew his sword. The sword crackled with ferocity as Micah’s tension grew, Lady Crow mentioned something might be out here but she wasn’t specific as to what.
The stench became overpowering, the muck and mire bubbled like boiling stew. Micah with his sword at the ready, was prepared for whatever would emerge.
All of a sudden, the mire was silent, only the chirping of crickets was heard. The stench still remained strong.
“Come out whatever you are!” he demanded, looking around anxiously. The swamp seemed to be tensing for something drastic to occur.
All of a sudden a grime-covered log sailed towards Micah through the fog, which he split effortlessly with his sword.
A watery-gurgling growl echoed as a brown, grimy beast ran towards him. The hulking figure was wielding a greened wooden club, and was covered in muck and filth.
Its small yellow eyes were narrowed as it took its first swing at Micah. He dodging it easily, and the club smashed a tree nearby which fell down instantly.
Micah looked up at the monster. A Mire-ogre! He dashed at the beast dodging its clumsy swings and slid between its legs, severing his right ankle.
The beast buckled and howled deafeningly as it bled. The blood smelled even fouler!
Micah took off his glove to reveal a tattoo on his hand, a demonic symbol which he activated with a flash of black light. His muscles bulked and throbbed as his shirt ripped leaving only his flowing cape, his skin darkened to a shadowy blue as his eyes became a solid red.
The ogre covered its ears and moaned painfully as its ankle bled out.
Micah sprinted towards the crippled creature and swung wildly, his sword lighting up with an eerie red. Once he had passed by a few times crisscrossed lines appeared on the ogre as he fell apart into an unidentifiable pile of mangled limbs and flesh.
Micah was breathing heavily now and fell to his knees coughing and gagging. His body shrunk and skin returned to normal, his torn clothes hung loosely.
His feet retracted into his now torn boots and his body was beaded with sweat as his eyes returned to normal.
Cassius watched curiously from the tangled wood of a nearby felled tree. A partial demonic transformation he observed. Lady Crow must have really been empowering this kid.
“Perfect! He’ll tear Umbra apart,” Cassius snickered as he stood up to mimic Umbra and validate his clone-form of him.
“Is that the best you can do Micah?” called out Cassius in Umbra’s form, his voice identical. He stepped forward from the mist. Micah was still on his hands and knees panting.
“Umbra?” he panted as he got to his feet, now covered in mud. “What are you doing back here?” he inquired.
“You are just as weak as your sister. I diced that vampire to little pieces. She was crying out for mercy but no monster deserves any!” Cassius taunted with an evil grin.
“What did you say?” demanded Micah holding out his blade. His fatigue now replaced with immense anger.
“Little Lydia is no more, nothing but a pile of scraps for the dogs to chew on. The perfect end for that monster do you think?” Cassius continued, Micah’s anger raged.
“You killed her?! You’re the monster Umbra! Lady Crow was right about you!” he blasted as he prepared to strike.
Uh-oh! He’s mad now, but how do I get out of here alive? Cassius thought, being careful to conceal his fear.
“Now die!” yelled Micah as he stormed Cassius.
Cassius cart-wheeled to the right but Micah turned to attempt again. This time he managed to clip Cassius’ side as he attempted to dodge.
“Ahh!” yelped Cassius as blood spewed out of his deep wound. He fell to his hands and clutched his side.
There’s only one way out of this! He thought. He gargled spit in his mouth and waited for Micah to attack again.
Micah was fuming mad, his sword burned bright red and his expression matched it in ferocity. Cassius spat out a huge brown glob of venom that hit Micah in his eyes.
“What the…?” Micah yelped as he fell to his knees trying to scratch the venom out, he was blinded and vulnerable, at least for now.
“Didn’t I tell you that you are weak?” Cassius taunted, finding his strength.
He walked up to Micah and drop-kicked him in the stomach knocking him flat, kicking his sword away then putting his foot on Micah’s face. He pressed down as Micah struggled on.
“Huh?” Cassius looked down to see Micah’s hand clenched around his ankle. “Ahh!” Cassius yelled as Micah squeezed and squeezed. Cassius struggled desperately as the blind Micah tightened his grip. Cassius’ ankle cracked and buckled until skin was broken, the bone snapped under the pressure. Micah refused to stop as he continued constricting Cassius’ ankle.
In desperation Cassius grabbed a nearby rock and smashed Micah’s hand with it repeatedly until he let go, howling in immense pain.
Cassius now mortally wounded and in severe pain scurried clumsily off into the mist leaving Micah fuming with anger.
“I’ll find you Umbra! Mark my words!” Micah yelled out as Cassius disappeared into the thick green mist.
Cassius was bleeding out fast! He needed to get back to Lady Crow to be healed; he had succeeded in his mission so she would have every reason to oblige.
TWENTY
“So my boy, I have unlocked some of your dormant power. You may notice that you no longer need blood for your magic, nor will your power manifest sporadically. All I ask is that you are careful with your new-found strength,” Astralode counseled as he sat opposite Umbra and Marin around his paper-scattered study table.
The helper hands had already begun cleaning up the array and mess from the astral projection ritual.
“That demon, all that fire… What was that Umbra?” Marin stared intensely at Umbra waiting for
him to answer. His head was buried in his hands.
“Well I…” he began, lifting his head to look at Marin. “I sold my soul that night and I need to find some way to get it back!” he explained. He scratched his scar before pulling a glove over it.
“Why would you do such a thing?” Marin demanded standing to her feet. “That’s the dumbest thing you can do!” she turned and walked over to the ingredients shelf.
Astralode just sat with his hands locked thumbing his beard in quiet contemplation. The argument raged on.
“Why do you care what I do with my life?” Umbra shot back at Marin as he walked over to her. His cloak clung to him.
“Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?” Marin replied without turning around. She was rummaging through the shelf looking for a staff summoning vial.
Umbra’s eyes widened. “You care about me?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I? You big stupid jerk!” Marin pouted with a childish frown on her face.
“I intend to fix things, however I can. I just don’t know how I’m going to kill that demon,” Umbra reassured her and she embraced him burying her head into his shoulder.
“Then you will need the Spear of Destiny!” Astralode announced as the room fell silent. “The Spear of Destiny was a weapon used by the famous hero that killed demons eons ago. Rumor has it that it was in Greed’s possession like much of the other ancient relics and treasures.”
Gladius and Fletcher walked down the hallway from the senate chambers with a desperate uneasiness.
“Well, we know of the invasion plans for Myst City by the Demon Greed but what can we really do to stop it?” Fletcher complained as he struggled to keep up with Gladius’ quickened pace.
Gladius’ cape flowed behind him as he marched away from the senate chambers. The scout reports that had informed them of Greed’s plans were trustworthy, he was just a little taken back by the grim news.
“Well, we must take the fight to him! We can’t let Myst City become a battlefield!” Gladius decreed, freezing in his steps.
“How do you propose we go about attacking Greed’s encampment?” Fletcher inquired skeptically. To face a demon was considered a death-wish. Gladius’ scheme was dangerously reckless.
In the candle-lit hallway the plan was laid out.
“Well, let’s start with what we know about him first,” Gladius began.
“That Greed is a seven-foot tall killing machine?” Fletcher cut in. Gladius silenced with him a raised hand.
“We know he lives in an encampment in the northern ruins of the former capital, and we know he keeps company with all matter of vile beasts,” Gladius continued.
“And all that treasure he supposedly hoards,” Fletcher added.
“What valuables he may or may not have don’t concern me Fletcher, we need to figure out a way to kill him!”
They were standing firmly despite their concealed anxiety.
“Maybe Umbra knows how to handle a demon. He is a necromancer is he not?” Fletcher suggested. Gladius raised his eyebrow and rubbed his chin before walking away thoughtfully.
“Where is he right now?”
“He is with Astralode and Marin,” Fletcher replied.
TWENTY ONE
Cassius agonizingly dragged himself through the mire. He longer was able to dodge the sharpened roots and slimy undergrowth as proficiently as before. He snagged his wound on the piercing claws and teeth of the bloodthirsty swampland vegetation.
He was bleeding out pretty quickly now and was scared he wouldn’t be able to make it back to Lady Crow in time.
He fell through a sharpened snare of thorns landing painfully on the wet ground. He was starting to black out. I have to get back to master!
He dragged onward through the muck and slime like a shameless beast gasping for air. He finally reached a gulley. Lady Crow’s house was on the other side!
A relieved, dizzied smile formed across the Changeling’s face as he let himself fall down the muddied slope and roll to a stop a few hundred yards from his destination.
Lady Crow stood perfectly still on her old, wooden porch staring intently out into the wilderness of the swamp. She barely noticed Cassius drag his bleeding carcass up to the porch.
He had lost his Umbra skin but the wound had gone far deeper than that. His normal reptilian form was bleeding out just as bad. “Massster!” he pleaded reaching out to Lady Crow, who looked down on him with contempt.
“Did you finish your task?” she inquired coldly, ignoring his mortal wounds and immense pain.
“Yessss, master please help,” Cassius begged, his head still spinning as he reached for her ankle.
Lady Crow smiled evilly, and looked down on Cassius. “Good, now there’s one last thing I need from you servant…” she began as she held her hand outstretched to Cassius. Cassius looked up expectantly until he realized what she was about to do.
“Not my soul! Master Apathy! Anything but that!” he squealed as the white stream of his soul was drawn out through his mouth and collected into a small orb in Lady Crow’s hand. Lady Crow admired the swirling white soul ball she held in her hand for a moment before she crushed it and inhaled it.
She felt a rush of exhilaration and cast a glance at Cassius’ now dry, shriveled remains. She placed her hand on his skull and watched it as it melted into the wet ground along with the rest of his remains.
Unscathed by the brutal murder of her loyal subject, Lady Crow casually pulled up her old wooden chair and sat down contently awaiting Micah’s return.
“Where is that fiend?!” demanded Micah moments later as he burst through the thicket appearing in view of Lady Crow, his sword clenched tightly in his hand.
Lady Crow stood up and called him over and innocently inquired as to what had occurred.
“Umbra returned! And he killed my sister!” Micah panted. “I confronted him but he blinded me like a coward and fled!” he raged as Lady Crow sat him down in her chair.
“Dear boy, I will help you,” Lady Crow cooed.
“You will?”
“Of course, I know how you wanted to redeem your sister and restore her to normal, but that Umbra had to go and kill her didn’t he?” she feigned grief.
She turned around and walked over to the small wooden table nestled on the veranda.
“It is fortunate he didn’t kill you, we must make you ready to face him.”
“Whatever, it takes!” Micah responded, his fatigue fading, a look of immense anger forming across his face.
Off in the northern wastes, nestled in the rocky ruins of the former capital city lay Greed’s encampment.
He sat on the throne in the palace ruins surrounded by all the treasure he had stockpiled over the years.
Greed was a demon of insatiable voracity, sitting lazily on the tarnished gold throne as his skeletal minions stood firmly at his side.
He was a large, hulking beast with clawed hands and feet, and impressive outstretching wings. He clad himself in all the jewels he could find, worshipping himself like a god.
The ragged, skeleton minions wore the simplest of armor and wielded the most basic weaponry.
Three years ago Greed’s army had laid siege to the town. The Capital was relatively peaceful and lacked the army to stand up to Greed’s legions.
In a single night Greed’s army stormed the town and committed mass genocide on all of its inhabitants, burning and looting as they went. The atrocities committed that night had become famous nation-wide.
Greed had a particular interest in the king’s treasury; sure enough he was able to add its riches to his own impressive collection.
His lesser demon entourage marched up and down impatiently.
“Master, we must press onward with our campaign! This region holds nothing mor
e for us. Myst City is ripe for the taking! Our scouts have discovered that it was recently ravaged by vampires and its defenses are cracked!” his main advisor Affluence insisted. He wore armor from Greed’s treasury that sparkled in the specks of light that emerged through the gloomy, cursed sky.
No territory claimed by a demon flourished after occupied, the land itself seemed to die, the skies dimmed, and the air staled.
Greed sleepily spoke up. “The plan was to lure the Golden Sun here; the necromancer will surely follow them. He will come looking for this!” Greed reached into his treasure pile and extracted an amber-colored pole.
“What would he want with that? Although it is the Spear of Destiny, we don’t have the spearhead. He can’t kill a demon with that,” Affluence questioned.
Greed glared at him, making him recoil. “I mean sir; surely he will look for the spearhead first.”
“It is not our place to question, Wrath, he has commanded us!” Greed boomed as he stood up. The skeleton minions stood at attention and Affluence nodded his head in agreement.
For some time now Greed had wanted to take Myst City, he had heard not only was the town poorly defended but it boasted a sizeable treasury. He was waiting on orders from Wrath before he could make a move though.
The doors opened and a satyr strolled in with a bag over his shoulder. His goat legs beaded with sweat from running and his crimson body was dotted with perspiration. He shook his horned head and held a scroll out in front of him.
“I have a message from Wrath, your Excellency,” the satyr messenger announced.
Greed waved his hand for the messenger to continue and stared at him while he opened the scroll and cleared his throat. “To demon lord Greed: I am pleased to inform you that Apathy has set the wheel in motion and driven the vampire’s brother into confrontation with Umbra. Their fight will ensue very soon: as decreed by demon overlord, Wrath.” The Messenger let out a sigh of relief as he rolled up the scroll to hand it to Greed.
The Contracted Soul Page 9