Beyond the Edge of Dawn

by Christian Warren Freed

  “New races were born, entire species without the foresight to understand their roles in life. A schism occurred. Half of the gods discovered compassion, viewing the new races with sympathy and weakness. The stronger half, what you label as dark, grew enraged. They argued that the races had been created to serve as menial labor. They were the caretakers of the world so that the immortals could focus on larger agendas. It was Man who tilted the scales.”

  He paused to clear his throat. “Man corrupted their minds, made them susceptible to weakness. The immortals shattered. A great war raged across Malweir. Thousands of immortals were killed, thus defying their very nature. Decay settled in. There is no possible way for you to comprehend what I am saying. The very fabric of creation was threatened, and it was all due to the simpering of the weak.

  “The dark gods understood what needed to happen if their way of life had a chance of continuing. They renewed their war, fighting with ferocity that has yet to be seen again. The only way to victory was to eradicate the weak entirely. But they could not do so alone. So they swayed a tribe of men, tempting them with powers undreamed of.

  “They fought long and did many foul things in the name of their new masters. For that, they were both hated and revered. The tide of war shifted against the dark gods, though, and they eventually became imprisoned in the vast nothingness of eternity. Can you imagine the torment they suffer in the void? Reduced from being masters of the world to mere prisoners of lesser beings. Deplorable,” he spat.

  Hostile intent glittered in his dark eyes. “But my masters had planned for such an event. They created agents to do their bidding. Some actively assisted them while others had no clue. I’ve been doing their work for a thousand years. But you, you don’t even know it. The tribe of Men they subverted were the ancestors of Gaimos. Your forbearers fought and died in the name of the dark gods. In return, they were given the keys to unlocking the prison. Your blood was endowed with the strength to open the gateway.

  “You must see the irony in this,” he taunted. “That damnable oracle knew the truth and still chose to send you here. The servants of the dark gods now come to destroy them. Surely, you can see there is no way for you to succeed. The very nature of your blood commands obedience. Poor fools. Even now, at the end, you fail to realize. Your precious blood is the keystone to my task.”

  A hulking shadow moved anxiously behind Corso. Kavan felt his body tense.

  Corso sensed his eagerness to join battle and continued taunting. “It stings, doesn’t it? Knowing your life is a lie. End your quest now, and join your rightful place at my side. It’s been long since I had a worthy slave to do my bidding.”

  Weeks of anger resurfaced. All of the injustice they’d been forced to endure danced before him. Kavan found difficulty comprehending what it was Corso bragged to them. There was no way his people had been created to serve evil. He refused to believe his purpose in life was so base. Animalistic urges threatened to override his common sense. He would gladly sacrifice his life to keep Corso from succeeding.

  “You dare shame our honor,” Kavan snarled. The tip of his sword pointed towards Corso’s face.

  “Honor!” Corso raged. “What honor is left to a ruined land? What’s left of mighty Gaimos has taken to slinking in the shadowed places of the world, scraping a meager living while their memories are forgotten. The guilty have no honor. Gaimos fell from false pride and recklessness. Your ancestors failed in their anointed task, betraying all they once stood for. All that you’ve known was destroyed through the manipulations of my kind, the true servants. It took many long centuries, but we finally achieved revenge.”

  “Your argument for us joining you isn’t working. End this now, Corso. We don’t have to do this,” Aphere reasoned.

  She wanted the fight as badly as Kavan, but Corso’s power was…consuming. She didn’t think she could best him.

  “I’ll get to you later. Your powers were born from the night, but you have no mastery of them. Your blood is the only thing special.”

  “Why our blood?” Aphere asked.

  Corso gave a toothy grin. “No more talk. My masters hunger to breathe the fresh air again. I’m afraid you are quite mistaken. It’s not your specific blood I need. The sole purpose of the hunts was to lure in those of your breed. Dozens of Gaimosians came in their self-endowed sense of righteousness. But their blood was weak, a watered down blend of better times. All of them died, until the last.

  “Finally, I have found once of the purest that could open the nexus and allow me to accomplish my task.” His smirk slowly grew into a full-blown smile. “You know of whom I speak.”

  “No,” Kavan gasped.

  “Perhaps it is time I reacquainted you. Master and pupil again. But no more. The future of your relationship is victim and victor.”

  The werebeast emerged from the shadows. Easily larger than any of the others they’d encountered, the Pirneon-beast was a mass of muscle and hatred. Pure malice glowed from the backs of his transformed eyes. Gone was any trace of the man he once was. All that remained was a twisted waste of flesh created for the sole purpose of murder.

  “Monster,” Kavan hissed. “You’ll pay for this blasphemy.”

  “Blasphemy? I’ve taken an impure being and perfected it. You should be so lucky to be remade so,” Corso snapped back. “Bah! None of you have the foresight to appreciate the coming atrocities. When my masters come, they will teach you the meaning of your ignorance.”

  He turned to Pirneon and said, “Kill them.”

  The Fist reacted first. A pair of arrows whistled past each side of Kavan’s head to strike Pirneon in the shoulders. He screamed in rage and charged. Larger than a pony, Pirneon was covered with ragged patches of black fur. Long claws dug into the broken stone as his barreled towards his enemy. Corso cackled in delight. Violent power swirled around him in a host of colors.

  Malweir began to tremble. Centuries-old rock and dirt crumbled from the ceiling. Clouds of dust rose from the floor to choke the heroes. An old doom resurfaced. The artificial humming grew louder, threatening to burst eardrums. Screams rose from a thousand skeletons littering the cavern floor. From the depths of the pit, the grey light turned green.

  In the fading night sky, the moon slowly reached out to eat the sun. The dark times had finally returned.

  SIXTY

  Fear Betrayed

  Kavan leapt at his former mentor. The intense stench of anger wafted off Pirneon, sickening him. Kavan failed to understand how the greatest knight in Gaimosian history had so willingly turned to embrace evil. Corso’s words were just words, empty phrases cast out to lure them into darkness. Kavan didn’t believe for a moment that his people had been bred for such foul purpose.

  He roared back at his new enemy and slashed downward with the intent of ripping his chest open. The Pirneon-beast recognized the stance, flashbacks of his previous life driving him on, and reacted. He leapt over the committed Gaimosian. Sheer force drove both Fist to the ground. Tym rolled away, slivers of his broken bow still in his grasp.

  “No!” he shouted.

  Even then, he knew it was too late. The Pirneon-beast punched a great clawed hand into the second Fist’s chest and through the back. Blood and tissue dripped from elongated fingers. Spinal fluids leaked from the wounds. The Fist’s eyes rolled back in a moment of disbelief before he died. Howling perverted delight, the Pirneon-beast raised the corpse and ripped it’s head off. Chewing sounds echoed disgustingly across the area.

  Tym clenched his eyes, fighting back tears. He’d seen more than his share of men die, but none so viciously. Worse, he knew his fate would be the same. Paralyzed with fear, he waited for the end. Warm urine ran down his leg.

  “Monster! It’s me you want!” Kavan bellowed.

  The diversion saved Tym’s life. The Pirneon-beast paused his attack to face his new threat. Recognition flashed. He spit out the broken remains of the Fist’s skull and crouched low to the ground. His mind played a hundred memories. Ever
y strength and weakness Kavan possessed filtered through. His muscles flexed, ready to pounce on his former student.

  Pure, unadulterated evil lay within his heart now, so wholeheartedly had he devoted his life to the dark gods and their powers. All of his old allegiances and loyalties were gone. Corso was his master now. The man who had been Pirneon was dead. Murdering Tamblin had been the defining moment. That minor sliver of his conscience still Human had been eager to repay her betrayal by ripping her throat out. He had relished devouring every scrap of her flesh.

  Kavan continued his taunting, hoping to give Tym enough time to get to cover. This wasn’t his fight. Pirneon had been a friend, teaching Kavan every style of combat he knew. Master and apprentice. That relationship left them on equal footing.

  “You had my loyalties, Pirneon,” he said. “I believed in you, your vision, and the hopes of our people. You betrayed us all. The oracle was right. We all have a role to play in this game.”

  The Pirneon-beast snarled. Spittle drooled from his elongated jaw.

  “Yours is to die,” Kavan whispered.

  Kavan spit, knowing what was left of Pirneon would recognize the challenge. Ancient Gaimosian custom demanded a duel of honor for such foulness. Kavan waited. Each heartbeat was the sound of a mighty drum pounding. A single bead of sweat dripped from his hair, over his forehead, and into his right eye. The salt stung, reminding him of the host of hardships overcome to reach this moment.

  “Come on,” he said.

  As much as he wanted the beast to attack, he didn’t see any chance of victory.

  The Pirneon-beast eased Kavan’s hesitations by charging. Kavan waited until the beast was almost on top of him before dropping to a knee and punching his sword up. The Pirneon-beast jerked aside, preventing fatal damage. Kavan’s sword caught it in the back of its right arm. Dark blood sprayed from the wound, burning the ground. An arrow thrummed over his head, lodging deep in the base of the beast’s neck. Kavan glanced up to see Tym draw and fire again.

  “Run!” Kavan shouted.

  Both men fled the battleground. Kavan’s last sight of the nexus was of Aphere facing down Corso.

  He wished her better success than he was having before forcing her from his mind. Aphere was on her own. He had his own troubles to deal with. Both Fist and knight ran as hard as they could to put distance between them and the werebeast. Kavan felt pangs of regret from not believing Aphere when she’d tried so hard to convince him. That ignorance might well be the end of them all.

  Neither thought escape was possible. Their best hope lay in confusing the Pirneon-beast enough to ambush it and, hopefully, slay it. Kavan wished he’d thought about such things on their route into the ruins, but he’d been arrogant.

  He listened to Tym’s breathing as they ran. Gessun Thune seemed to grow around them. The ruins cast no shadows in the pale light, which Kavan noticed had gone from pale grey to pale green, though their sheer size dominated the surroundings. Kavan snatched Tym by the shoulder and pulled him into an empty doorway where both men collapsed. Pirneon howled in the distance.

  “We can’t beat that,” Tym gasped.

  Kavan shook his head. “No.”

  Tym looked hard at his companion. “How do you know that thing?”

  Fighting to get his breathing back under control, Kavan swallowed before explaining, “He was my mentor. Everything I know I learned from him.”

  The Fist cursed. “Corso spoke true.”

  “Yes.”

  “I knew you people were dangerous. You killed my best friend at the swamp edge.” He paused, jaw twisting thoughtfully, as if deciding whether Kavan was his enemy or not. “Fine, let’s kill him or die trying. I’ve lost the will to run any further.”

  They caught heavy footsteps approaching.

  “How many arrows do you have?”

  Tym checked and was dismayed. His quiver was empty. Not that it mattered much since his bow had been shattered. Picking up the second had been sheer luck. Kavan still had his crossbow, but only two bolts. All of the rest had fallen out during their retreat. Swords and daggers weren’t going to be enough.

  Kavan shoved the crossbow and bolts at Tym. “Here, take them.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Offering a sarcastic smile, Kavan said, “I’m going to lure him in, and you’re going to shoot him. Get up high and aim for the heart. I’ll keep him busy down here. If he kills me, do what you can to get back to the surface.”

  “That’s your plan?”

  “I’m all ears if you have a better one,” he replied as he walked away.

  Tym cursed again and began to climb. He’d already learned that, once a Gaimosian got it in his head to do something, there was no turning back. The Fist crouched down behind a broken pillar on what used to be the second floor. He carefully selected his field of fire and waited. Werebeasts were difficult to kill in the best situations, and here he was trying to kill the strongest. He suddenly regretted volunteering.

  Kavan slipped back into the street. “Pirneon!”

  The beast roared in response. Heightened senses told him where Kavan was. He charged through the ruins. His bulk crashed through already broken buildings. Hate spurred him on, hate and the three arrows driven deep in his flesh. Blood splashed down his ruined form. His muscles were hideously gnarled. Pustules and lesions covered his body. The Pirneon-beast rounded the corner and saw Kavan’s diminutive figure waiting. Another challenge. He attacked, all the while hoping Kavan remained still so he could relish in the slaughter.

  Kavan held his ground. Pirneon’s arrogance had transcended into his new form. That would work to his disadvantage. He hoped Tym was ready; otherwise, it was going to be a violent death. Kavan broke and ran. The Pirneon-beast followed.

  “Come on, you bastard,” he taunted through clenched teeth.

  The glow in the caverns grew stronger as if unchallenged powers were being funneled into the nexus. He ignored it, focusing instead on the five hundred pound monster chasing him. That minor distraction was enough that he failed to see the rock. He fell and rolled. Sharp pain lanced through an ankle. The sprain might as well have been an amputation. There was no way he could continue running. Hobbling, he made his way back through the doorway.

  “Wait for your shot,” he warned the Fist. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Tym swallowed and raised his weapon. Too many images crowded his mind, desperately trying to be noticed before the end. Concentration wasn’t easy. Nerves made him tremble. The weapon wavered. Common sense said to break and flee. The Gaimosians could kill each other. If what Corso said was true, the world might be a better place without them.

  Tym wiped his palm across his trousers and tried to swallow. His mouth was parched. He couldn’t stop sweating. Further thought fled when the werebeast crashed through the building’s exterior. Great chunks of the ceiling crashed down.

  The building rocked from a second and third impact before the Pirneon-beast managed to break free. The beast howled fierce enough to make his ears bleed. Wicked eyes scanned the unnatural darkness. Kavan had made it too easy. The fist-sized rock caught Pirneon in the jaw, shattering one of the upper fangs. Kavan pitched another rock, this one catching the beast in the throat. Pirneon reared back, exposing his upper body.

  “Now!” Kavan shouted.

  Tym whispered a quick prayer and fired. He reloaded and fired again. Both shots took Pirneon in the chest, close to the heart but not enough to kill. The werebeast staggered under the blows. Kavan struck. Stabbing as hard as he could, he found brief resistance followed by the sound of steel ripping through flesh and organs. Hot blood gushed forth, and Kavan slipped. The Pirneon-beast lashed out and caught Kavan in the chest, spiraling him backwards.

  Rising to full, terrifying height, the Pirneon-beast was a vision of nightmares. Tym stared in astonishment. Kavan groaned and rolled over to his knees. Bright red blood drooled from his lips. Sharp pain spread across his chest with each breath. He looked up at his e
nemy, knowing there was only one shot. Waiting until Pirneon was over top of him, Kavan used every last ounce of his strength to reach forth and grab his sword, still buried in Pirneon’s chest. He twisted, ripped. Blade and heart flew from the body as the Pirneon-beast lashed out one final time. The mighty nightmare collapsed in a lifeless heap. Pirneon, Knight Marshal of Gaimos, was dead.

  Kavan limped next to the broken body. Tears struggled to win free. He looked down on his former mentor and clove through Pirneon’s neck. The head rolled away.

  “I am sorry,” Kavan whispered.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Power Unrestrained

  Aphere narrowly avoided being decapitated as the Pirneon-beast launched at them. Her enhanced reflexes were the only difference between life and death. She flattened herself as the massive creature hurtled over. Whatever foul powers had transformed Pirneon had succeeded in making a monstrosity. Already consumed with the deadly combination of jealousy and suspicion, Pirneon’s mind practically welcomed the change. A stifled scream and the iron smell of fresh blood told her one of her companions was dead. The battle joined behind her and quickly moved away.

  Alone, Aphere rose and prepared to battle Corso. Her only hope lay in his underestimating her. Aphere was ultimately unprepared to do battle with the powers arrayed before her.

  Corso, for his part, waited patiently with his hands lost in the sleeves of his robe. He leered at her. “Pretty thing. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”

  “I know enough,” she fired back. Having grown up in a world of harsh men, Aphere was undaunted.

  Corso snorted. “I seriously doubt that. The oracle has no power over the world of men and gods. He’s led you to your death, only you’re too blind to see it.”

  “This isn’t about the oracle,” she countered. “I won’t let you open the nexus. Your dreams end tonight.”