The Kakos Realm Collection

by Christopher D Schmitz

  They approached the grassy glade in front of the wooded area with a sense of trepidation. They walked with terse breaths, waiting for the tension to break loose, for good or bad, at any moment. Rashnir constantly scanned the area from the corners of his eyes. He spotted a cluster of eyes watching them from the dark hole leading to the subterranean realm.

  Rashnir put a hand on his friend’s chest to stop him. Several sets of goblin children watched, creeping in the dark.

  “You see them?”

  “Yup. Too young to know any better… haven’t learned stealth yet?”

  “No. I don’t think that’s it,” Rashnir commented, thinking though his thoughts. “They are curious of something… they’re waiting to be entertained.”

  “They’ve maybe never seen a surface dweller before?”

  “Think again. Remember the horses? Something, someone has their attention.”

  One of the pairs of eyes darted left.

  “Look out!” Rashnir yelled, pushing Zeh-Ahbe’ out of the way of a cloaked assassin that seemed to spring out of nowhere.

  The black-clad slayer moved fast—highly trained! Rashnir ducked a wickedly sharp hook-blade and whirled around with a wild haymaker that his enemy slipped. The shrouded figure slunk a step backwards to size up the legendary ranger.

  “I always thought you’d be somehow… more?” The menacing figure’s low voice sounded more like an animal growl than a man’s voice. It carried a certain truculent tone, indicating this encounter would not end without bloodshed.

  Suddenly the attacker’s head rocked backwards as a log smashed him in the face. His hood flung back to reveal pasty, pale skin, reddened eyes and hair like corn silk. Zeh-Ahbe’ grinned, bent over the cart, grabbing next at the hand axe.

  The assassin curled his busted lip in a sneer and licked away the blood that had begun to trickle from his nose. He pulled his hood down again to shield against the vicious rays of light. “Of course you must fight! There is still a beast inside of you… but you cannot defeat the acolytes!” he assumed a ready position and brandished his kamas.

  Rashnir caught sight of the other ten acolytes that encircled them, each clad in a similar robe and carrying identical weapons. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t think you understand who I’ve become.”

  The acolyte with the voice pointed an accusatory finger at him. “We know exactly what you are: Rashnir the fatherless.” The warriors took cautious steps forward, slowly closing the gap. “Worshipper of the false God: the one defeated by hay-lale’s mighty hands. You are a defenseless animal, caged by a powerless deity.”

  Rashnir leveled his eyes on the speaker and furrowed his brow. “You obviously know nothing about my God!”

  The acolyte snarled and charged at him. A cerulean blade flashed to life in Rashnir’s hands, flaming in brilliant blue. He slashed a frantic blow to counter the acolyte’s hubris; the assassin’s red eyes widened in surprise and he dove to the side to avoid the mystic edge.

  Rolling to a crouch, he darted forward again, ready for the blade this time. He tried to bat the blade aside and catch the ranger with his offhanded kama. His first weapon disintegrated on contact with the holy fire.

  Rashnir whirled his blade around again in a tight spin. Catching the second kama, he severed blade from handle. The enemy’s poise evaporated and Rashnir caught him in the midsection with a knee. As quickly as his blade had burst into existence it disappeared; freehanded, Rashnir caught the exposed jaw with a furious uppercut. The warrior staggered backwards and three more stormed forward to take his place.

  Rashnir ducked and rolled, avoiding the keen blades of his adversaries, slipping around each swing as if the entire engagement was a deadly dance. Zeh-Ahbe’ used the axe to block blows as he scrambled around the edge of the cart, trying to keep the two hooded fighters who attacked him as far away as possible. Spotting his friend’s troubles Rashnir called his blade to hand again and slashed his sword through the weapons of the three pressing in against him in a whirlwind like move.

  Those three backed off while Rashnir jumped in to defend his friend. They melted into the background and regrouped with their circle.

  “If you don’t uncage the beast inside of you, there is no way you will overcome. If you do not relent, we will kill your friend!”

  Rashnir only then heard the low, murmuring chant of those acolytes not attacking. They were spell-casters, too! No doubt, they tried projecting some dark incantation upon them.

  “Let the monster take over! Forsake your allegiance to this Yahweh and embrace the raw power of your heritage!”

  Rashnir could feel the darkness rising up from his gut. He stuffed the rage down inside, the lust for blood, the fulfillment of triumphing over his enemy in a life-and death struggle. “I am in control! I would never forsake my vow! You misjudge me,” he declared.

  The acolyte laughed. His chortle resonated with irony even as the other acolytes continued their repetitive mantra.

  “I… I don’t think… that they are talking to… you!” Zeh-Ahbe’ groaned.

  Rashnir spotted his friend. Zeh-Ahbe’ hunched against the cart, trembling. His eyes had contracted and shifted gold; they resembled an animal’s more than any man’s. His body pulsed, parts shifting to a lupine form, bulging with muscle, but then quickly shifted back.

  “No! I have forsaken this!” Zeh-Ahbe’ croaked behind growing incisors.

  Holding his flaming sword at the ready, Rashnir wasn’t quite sure how to help his friend. A shadow suddenly fell upon the circle and then disappeared: a giant wyvern circled them like a buzzard about to feed on carcasses—another acolyte rode upon it!

  “Strike us down! Save your friend! Embrace the beast and break your bonds!”

  Rashnir ran to the unarmed enchanter, sword held high and hungry. He stopped just short of striking down the unarmed man.

  “No!” Zeh-Ahbe’ yelled. His grasp had clawed fingernail marks across the boards of the cart. “Don’t you become the beast in my place!”

  The ranger turned to regard his friend who began to finally get his impulses under control. He’d shrunk down again from an almost fully transformed state. He understood that this was a battle Zeh-Ahbe’ had to face, squaring off against his own temptations. Rashnir returned to his friend’s side and glared at the hooded enchanter. The palpable sense of evil that wafted off him reeked of Absinthium’s influence.

  As the last of Zeh-Ahbe’s bulging muscles returned to normal, the battle-mage howled. All twelve of the acolytes descended upon the two. They streaked to their prey like eagles.

  Zeh-Ahbe’ dove under the cart and somersaulted. He came out the other side as the acolytes slashed through the air he’d occupied only moments previous. Twisting through the roll, he used the axe to counter another’s blow.

  Rashnir hacked through the kamas of the nearby acolytes who pressed him hard. They’d already considered their weapons forfeit and anticipated their destruction, countering with vicious punches and kicks as the ranger used the azure blade to absorb the more lethal blows.

  He dismembered a sickle-head from the handle of the most threatening of the hook-blades and threw his own blow. A brutal elbow caught him in the nose and Rashnir backpedaled, swinging the sword to keep his adversaries at bay. He foresaw the sliding kick meant to flatten him to his back and sidestepped just in time. Suddenly, the wyvern was upon him, swooping in from the sky!

  It snatched at him with its two powerful feet. Rashnir tucked and rolled, slipping just below the poisonous talons. The scaly beast crashed against the cart, knocking it over again while it took to the sky as Zeh-Ahbe’ scrambled away from the toppling mess of lumber.

  Rashnir whirled around and used the blade to burn through the flurry of edged throwing spades an acolyte hurled at them. He stretched to catch the last one which the acolyte flung wide in order to strike Zeh-Ahbe’.

  Zeh-Ahbe’ nodded to Rashnir when they locked eyes. He wordlessly thanked
him.

  Rashnir rushed forward and pressed for the last acolyte who still had a weapon. The others with broken weapons had each sunk to their knees, resuming their mantra, daring Rashnir to strike any of them while they sat defenseless.

  The remaining acolyte danced in and out of Rashnir’s offensive maneuvers, trying to draw him into another over-extending attack with subtle feints. Bobbing back and forth, the assassin took care to not lose his own weapons in an over-eager pursuit.

  A wyvern shaped shadow fell again as the cloaked assailant worked in tandem with it. Rashnir noticed the acolyte timing his strikes; he feinted and changed up his movements, drew an attack, and slashed through the assassin’s weapons, disarming him but leaving himself open to attack from the winged reptile. The wyvern snatched Rashnir up as he struggled

  Luckily, the reptile’s poisonous barbs missed his flesh. Rashnir hacked at the gripping appendage, severing its grasp before it could gain much altitude.

  He tumbled to the ground while the beast shrieked, circling around in rage. The rider barely maintained control of the beast as the wyvern’s hackles rose to the challenge. It didn’t understand why such a small creature proved so difficult to apprehend.

  It tucked its wings and flew at him like a shot! Rashnir led with his blade, swinging a wide arc, trying to sever the wings from the wyvern’s serpentine body.

  The crafty beast flapped its wingspan out full at the last second, nearly braking to a complete halt as an air buffet stalled the rapid descent. Rashnir’s slash cut only through the air! And with another powerful beat of the creature’s wings it shot skyward as it snatched up its prey in one smooth move.

  This time the calculated element of surprise belonged to the beast. It squeezed the human and unretracted the septic barb from its dewclaw.

  Rashnir reacted just in time to burn the poisonous pincer off before it could render him limp. But the winged beast still had him in its grasp and the ground shrank ever distant; a fall at this height would kill him.

  Zeh-Ahbe’ stared at his friend who’d been snatched up in but a heartbeat and blinked. Zeh-Ahbe’ apprehensively scanned the circle of acolytes which encompassed him.

  The first of them to attack spun some kind of wooden box on a chain. It whirred with a loud droning sound as it spun. The remainder of the acolytes sat on their knees, again chanting.

  Feeling their magic course around him, Zeh-Ahbe’ glared at them each in turn. Fully in control of his body, despite their efforts, he retorted, “I have made my choice already and I will live or die by it! You have no power, here.”

  High above, Rashnir pulled an arm free and managed to snatch a loose strap from the winged mount’s barding. He tugged the saddle strap taught and grabbed it in his teeth. Then, with his blazing sword, he severed the other leg that grappled him.

  The wyvern screeched and Rashnir fell. His body jerked against the leather bonds as the severed limb tumbled downward. Rashnir’s sword dissipated and with both hands free, he clung to the saddle straps for dear life. The creature tried to shake him. It thrashed violently, nearly bucking off the acolyte rider who could no longer control the pained creature.

  Snarling with foamy rage, it yanked one of its reins free, giving the wyvern enough leeway to reach its serpent-like head back and snap at Rashnir. Dangling perilously, he twisted his body to avoid the snapping jaws.

  The rider yanked furiously on the remaining rein, pulling the creature’s head forward as he vied with it for some semblance of control. Its head reared back, but smashed momentarily against a wing with the loud cracking noise of a snapped tendon. The reptile howled and slid into an angular drift, limping on its weak side.

  The wounded limb suddenly gave out and the wyvern plummeted from the sky in a flurry of collapsing wings. It writhed and twisted as it tumbled a circular arc downward, still trying to catch Rashnir in its hungry jaws.

  As it rolled through the pull of gravity the warrior clambered across the beast and alongside the acolyte who clung to rein and saddle. The gap between ground and sky closed at terminal velocity; reptilian wings flashed wide and the wyvern pulled out of the fall, swooping just above the treetops but still limping fiercely. The exhausted creature surrendered control back to the acolyte pilot.

  They skimmed the leaves of the canopy’s foliage as they turned back towards the circle of acolytes and the toppled hand cart. The wyvern rider wrapped his hands around the rein and his other arm around Rashnir’s neck and squeezed, trying to choke him out.

  Rashnir flung his head back, head-butting the acolyte over and over until his hold loosened. The ranger reached a freehand back and pulled his dizzied opponent forward so that he couldn’t use the stirrups for leverage. The rider tumbled over the wyvern’s jointed clavicle and fell.

  The wyvern’s snout yanked downward as the reins tied to the acolyte’s wrist snapped tight and pulled the beast’s head into the trees. It smashed against the branches and dumped the acolyte. Finally free, it lurched and rolled, streaking through the sky.

  Rashnir clung to the saddle as he and the beast shot towards Zeh-Ahbe’ at breakneck speeds. He had no control over the beast’s trajectory and his friend stared with wide eyes. Rashnir dove off, hitting the ground with a roll to break the fall.

  Zeh-Ahbe’ ducked to the dirt as the monster crashed through his airspace and broke itself against the handcart with a sickening pop. Rashnir tumbled to a skidding stop right next to his friend. They leapt to their feet expecting an attack, but the acolytes had disappeared.

  The two Christians turned to each other bewildered and wild-eyed and suddenly burst out laughing—giddy at the intense rush of adrenaline and confused as to what exactly happened. “I can’t believe they didn’t attack you!” Rashnir exclaimed, checking himself for broken bones. “They outnumbered you eleven to one!”

  Finally, they turned to the mangled beast which lay broken and burst open against the pile of useless lumber that had once been a large handcart. A wooden box protruding spikes and wicked pieces of shrapnel stuck against the busted cart. Its rusty spikes lodged it firmly into the wood and its chain still dangled.

  “A caisson!” Rashnir yelled with wide eyes. He grabbed Zeh-Ahbe’. “Run!”

  They bolted away from it as fast as they could. It exploded a split second later; the concussive force knocked them to the ground, but they’d managed to get beyond the range of the serious damage.

  “How did you know it would do that?” Zeh-Ahbe’ asked, awestruck in the dirt.

  “Mind had a couple of them in his armory—he collected obscure and rare weapons. Nasty things.”

  Zeh-Ahbe’ nodded. “I understand… but what is a Mind?”

  Rashnir chuckled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll tell you the story on the way back.”

  They rose to their feet and dusted themselves off. Nothing remained of their wagon except flaming rubble, burnt reptile meat, and oily black smoke that caked anything nearby with heavy, sticky grease from the nasty, burning wyvern entrails.

  Startling them, a mythic beast call echoed in the distance. A gryphon took flight above the trees. It was difficult at this distance, but Rashnir was fairly certain he spotted Absinthium seated atop it. The creature flew north, safely away from either them or the ones they cared for in the Christian encampment.

  “What in the realms just happened here?” Zeh-Ahbe’ wondered aloud.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling that this was just a tipping point in a much larger war.”

  Epilogue

  Rashnir and Zeh-Ahbe’ walked back towards their camp at a leisurely pace. Each nursed slight limps and burns from the engagement with the shadowy, black-clad assassins.

  They hadn’t killed any, to their knowledge. Even the pilot had seemed able to break his fall within the trees and bracken and they hadn’t found any bodies when they’d gone to check.

  “We are lucky we have only bruises and scrapes,” Rashnir said. “I’m quite certain that
Absinthium watched the attack from the distance.”

  The former werewolf nodded. “I think you are right, my friend. Only, I fear that the next encounter with them will be a far more fatal encounter.”

  “And there will certainly be another conflict. One does not attain the rank of arch-mage by allowing your enemies to remain at large.”

  They walked a ways further. Zeh-Ahbe’s face fell sullen; he kicked a rock.

  Rashnir clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. He intuitively understood what thoughts occupied Zeh-Ahbe’s mind. “The beast is contained. You passed the trial, the temptation to go back—even for good reasons.”

  Zeh-Ahbe’ sighed heavily. Another long pause. “Do you ever miss it? The power, the freedom?”

  Rashnir flexed his hands and looked down at them. They no longer bore the scars that the wicked king had branded him with. They were perfect, pure.

  “I did. Every day I did. But then our God gave me back something better.” He slapped his friend’s back again. “Give it time. Something better is coming your way; you’ve proven yourself stronger than even I, I think. After all, I succumbed to the temptation and you did not.”

  Zeh-Ahbe’ looked at him questioningly.

  “Yes. Five minutes after meeting Kevin, Jorge, and Kyrius, I took a blade from them and murdered King Harmarty. You? You did not falter. I didn’t even pause to listen to reason and Truth until my hatred was satisfied. You, my friend, are the stronger one.”

  Nodding, Zeh-Ahbe’ seemed to brighten. “You really think something better is coming?”

  Rashnir nodded. “Yes. I do—although something better has already come.” His voice trailed off. “But also something far worse is on its way,” he whispered under his breath.

  ***

  Kevin stood on the hilltop, arms spread wide. He turned a slow and lazy circle, surveying the land. He could see it all! Every scrap of land from the spires of the mythic western gate to the rocky cliffs of the furthest east shore was under his purview.