Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2)

by William Collins

  Reluctantly, he spat the bat back out and reeled drunkenly after Falawn, intoxicated by what he'd done. The feed had given him more strength, heightening his already superhuman senses. He sprinted after his brother, aching to avenge their family.

  “KURRLAN!” Falawn cried to the scarlet sky.

  As Arantay reached Falawn, the ground exploded from underneath them. A stone golem sprouted from the bowels of the earth, smashing an arm into Arantay’s chest.

  He was shot into the cloud of bats with a howl of frustration. Rending teeth, ripping claws, heads flying to the floor, wings wrenched from bodies, he slaughtered as many of the minions as he could before lurching back to the golem.

  The mountainous bulk stood over ten feet, but Arantay leapt cleanly over it, not looking back as he rolled over the floor, seeking out Falawn immediately.

  He saw him, running up a red and black mottled hill. A glow of magic ignited in Falawn’s hand. Arantay realised with a pang of dread that Falawn had a Rambrace, an instrument used to pass between the worlds. Probably the same one he'd used to let the demons into Veneseron.

  His fangs gouged into his bottom lip as he ground his teeth in fury. He surged after Falawn with all his strength. He clawed his way up the hill as Falawn thrust the Rambrace high. The glow of magical energy expanded and formed a portal. Falawn stared at him in loathing, his lip curled into an awful smile, before leaping into the portal.

  “Nooo!” Arantay roared, jumping the distance with the last of his strength and plunging through the crackling gateway a second before it closed.

  A rush of vivid colours, a flickering vision of endless exotic vistas, glimpses of the many millions of other worlds, and then he was tumbling into one of them.

  He hit the ground hard, a ground of black sand, like ash.

  He looked up frantically, scanning his new surroundings. Above the endless panorama of rolling black sands stretched a lurid ochre sky, speckled with gargantuan asteroids that flew across it like winged giants. This world resembled space, an orange space of a distant universe. There wasn’t any oxygen in the atmosphere. If he was human he would’ve suffocated.

  A split-second glance at his immediate surroundings was all he had before the sharp cry of wrath brought him back.

  “Fool!” Falawn cursed, smashing into him from behind.

  Arantay hit the sand for a second time, choking as it spilled into his mouth.

  Falawn turned to dive through the portal, leaving Arantay in this desolate wasteland forever—but it closed before he got there.

  Frantically, he spoke the incantation to ignite his Rambrace again and escape. With a primal roar, Arantay threw himself at Falawn before he could get away. Both brothers fell, scrapping like animals, the Rambrace flying out of Falawn’s hand.

  The elf scrabbled desperately, but Arantay pinned him to the ground with one hand and punched him relentlessly with the other. He struck his brother’s face until his fist became wet.

  He was going to kill him. He knew it; if he didn’t stop soon Falawn would be dead. But he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t stop.

  Arantay must have hesitated in his beating, shown a small sign of the mercy and compassion that Falawn would never have. Falawn seized the opportunity like a viper, lashing out fast before rolling away and crawling toward the fallen Rambrace.

  Arantay latched on to Falawn’s leg and yanked him back, his long black claws gouging the bronze flesh. Falawn kicked out in pain, striking his chest with inhuman strength. Arantay was flung backward, and this time Falawn followed him, striking out in a mad flurry of brutal attacks. Falawn’s punches would have caved in the head of a human, but Arantay wasn’t human, and he was insane with hate, anguish and bloodlust.

  He ignored the pain of Falawn’s attacks, hitting back with a single vicious punch. Falawn reared back, blood gushing from his nose. He tried to hit back, but Arantay caught his arm, and with a twist snapped the bone in half.

  Falawn screamed, falling to the floor and cradling his broken arm. His shaking sobs contorted to scathing laughter. His dark green eyes shone with a sick mirth as he looked at Arantay, snapping his arm back into place. He lunged toward the glowing Rambrace, seizing it and screaming the incantation.

  A new portal formed as they struggled desperately. Falawn reached for the roaring inferno of magic whilst Arantay attempted to hold him back. The elf twisted in his grasp like an eel and slid through the portal with Arantay an inch behind. Magic closed around them both.

  Colours blinded him, magic surrounded him, and then he was out, in a world of flames—literally.

  Infernos blazed. Torrents spiralled. The only safe ground was the vast golden bridge the brothers landed on. Beyond the bridge, walls of flame rose high into the air.

  The two fought furiously, each lost in their own hatred. Arantay clasped his brother tight and then launched him toward the edge of the bridge, intending to throw him down into the sea of fire below.

  Falawn’s back snapped against the topmost railing as his upper body was forced back and almost over. He grabbed Arantay with both legs however, wrapping them round in a vice-like grip, saving himself temporarily from the horrible death he deserved.

  With hands clutching the railings, legs wrapped around his brother, Falawn was helpless to defend himself, and Arantay took the chance to beat him relentlessly with both fists. Soon Falawn’s face was unrecognisable.

  As Arantay attacked, he felt Falawn’s grip around him begin to weaken. This was it. Any second now his brother’s strength would leave him. Arantay could throw him off the bridge and to the fire below, avenging his family, ending it forever.

  Falawn took an immense chance, letting go of the railing with one hand, whilst using his other hand to slam the Rambrace into Arantay’s face. Arantay let go as he slumped to the floor, his vision blurred.

  Falawn climbed to the safety of the bridge, spitting blood. “You should never have come for me.”

  Falawn seized Arantay by the shoulders and launched him over the railings, down into the fiery pits below.

  Arantay flipped through the air, arcing down to the ocean of flames. He twisted his body sharply, only to smash into an incline of volcanic rock with enough impact to shatter a human’s bones to shards.

  He tumbled down the rock slope, barely avoiding the flames that licked up to greet him. He scrabbled desperately with his claw-like nails as he fell. Finally they pierced the rock and stuck fast. Arantay clung, dangling inches above the sea of fire, but he was slowly slipping, and the heat was horrendous.

  Clenching his jaw against the agony, he swung with all his might, attempting to climb back out of the pit, away from the roaring inferno beneath. It hurt his hands like hell, and if his nails weren’t so sharp he wouldn’t have been able to do it.

  He seethed internally as well as physically. By now Falawn would’ve summoned a portal and left this world forever, leaving Arantay alone, trapped.

  He had no way to escape now. If this world was nothing but fire he was done for. He might as well cast himself back into the pit.

  He refused to give up, no matter what. I’ll find Falawn again, across all the worlds if I have to, and I’ll kill him.

  *

  Huge fire demons bore down upon him. Swirling infernos roared all around. Arantay ducked under the flames of one monster and rolled beyond, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  Falawn. His mind screamed the name incessantly.

  The fire giants roared as he staggered away, a single white blur amongst a world of red flame.

  He’d escaped the sea of fire only to find that he wasn’t alone on this world. Demons lived here, and they were created entirely from flame.

  A child-shaped form ran toward him, arms of ember outstretched. Arantay leapt over it and ran on. How long he’d been running he didn’t know, but the golden bridge stretched on with no end in sight.

  The fire-child was bowled over by two wolf demons that loped after him, tongues of flame lolling.

&nbs
p; More blazing demons leaped across the bridge's railings, crawling out of the fire sea below, hell-bent on burning him alive.

  Arantay wept as he ran. He wept for the death of his family, and out of fear that he was destined to die here, alone on this world. He dodged pools of lava and flailing ember limbs. The flame hounds were gaining on him. Soon they would engulf him.

  A figure blurred into view on the bridge ahead. He thought it was calling out to him, but he couldn’t hear above the roaring flames.

  Arantay lashed out at the figure, thinking it was another demon intent on destroying him. The figure caught his arm mid-strike, holding Arantay back with ease.

  “Vanderain,” he rasped in astonishment.

  Vanderain used his free hand to freeze the pantheon of fire demons in place. The monsters stalking him suddenly stopped, and the infernos went quiet. Arantay’s ears rang from the sudden silence.

  “With me,” Vanderain commanded, conjuring a portal and guiding him through.

  The fiery realm evaporated and Arantay found himself standing in Veneseron forest, Vanderain still clasping his hand and standing beside him.

  He roared in fury, snapping his hand out of the Eternal’s grasp.

  “Take me back,” he cried. “I have to find Falawn.”

  “Falawn has left us,” Vanderain said quietly.

  “Take me to him,” Arantay repeated, “NOW!”

  Vanderain didn’t flinch, but he closed his eyes for a long moment, as if in pain.

  “Vanderain,” Arantay snarled, his fangs glinting in the sunlight that streamed down between shafts of the forest canopy. “I have no place in Veneseron anymore. I can’t stay here. I can’t do anything until he’s dead.”

  Vanderain still hadn’t opened his eyes.

  “Do you hear me, Vanderain? I know you can take me to my brother. Do it now.”

  Vanderain did not answer.

  “DO IT NOW!”

  Arantay struck out in his anger.

  A second before his fist hit, Vanderain’s eyes snapped open and Arantay was flung through the air, smashing into a nearby tree with awful impact.

  “Do not cross me, Arantay.” Vanderain’s silver eyes glowed as he stared at Arantay’s slumped form. “I will not fight you. You are not yourself."

  Arantay bared his fangs, rising again, ready to attack.

  “Your vampiric side has nearly taken over,” Vanderain said. “Remember who you are. What you are. You have always succeeded in controlling yourself.”

  “Liar. Since I was turned, I’ve had to feed off the animals in this forest. For centuries I’ve been a heartless, evil murderer. There’s little difference between animals and humans.”

  “You are not evil. For centuries you have slain demons to protect humans,” said Vanderain.

  “My brother is worse than any demon.”

  “Arantay,” Vanderain urged, “accept your grief. Don’t let it consume you. Falawn is out of your reach now. You must move on. There is nothing you can do. He could be in any number of realms now.”

  “Then I will wander all the worlds until I find him.”

  “You would have died on that world had I not rescued you. Try to calm down. I shall alert my allies throughout the realms to be on the lookout for Falawn. His crimes will not go unpunished, I assure you.”

  Arantay broke down in racking sobs of grief.

  “You must wait. There will be justice for those who betray Veneseron, but not yet. Falawn cannot be kept safe forever. I only urge you to stay with us in Veneseron. This is your home; it has always been your home. The day will come for vengeance, but not yet.”

  Slowly, Arantay’s fangs shrank back. “Thank you, Vanderain.” He walked toward the darkness of the trees.

  “Can I trust you to stay here?”

  “For now,” came Arantay’s bitter reply.

  Vanderain sighed and remained in the forest a long time after Arantay had gone. Finally he left, knowing Arantay needed time to grieve.

  Chapter 3- New Friends and Old Foes

  Joelle Mace couldn’t wipe the huge grin off her face. She was home.

  She’d returned from her mission this morning and headed straight to her room to see Sir-Imps-a-Lot.

  This mission had been her longest yet, and she’d missed Veneseron terribly. She’d been born in the city, and had never left Veneseron for this long before. As she burst into her room, Sir-Imps-a-Lot was already bouncing on her bed, croaking excitedly.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Joelle cooed as he ran into her arms.

  On her earlier missions Joelle had asked Elijah to feed Sir-Imps-a-Lot whilst she was away. Unfortunately, Elijah had a habit of losing him, and he complained that Impy kept trying to bite him. Since Imps-a-Lot always snuck into the kitchens to steal food anyway, Joelle had asked Sniglog to look after him instead.

  “Well, you don’t look any skinnier.” She poked his green pot-belly. “So I guess they let you gobble up all the food you wanted, yes?”

  He looked up at her, his frog-like face smiling widely. He had a bald and exceptionally round head on a stout body, maybe two feet high. Like all imps, his belly was too big for him, which caused him to waddle.

  “So, did anything happen whilst I was gone?” Joelle knew he couldn’t answer her back, but he had his own form of sign language. She smiled as he nodded enthusiastically.

  “Like what, Impy?”

  He raised his webbed hands, stretching them wide and pulling a face.

  “Monsters? Did they chase you in the forest again?”

  Impy shook his head, pointed at her and repeated the expression.

  “Oh, that’s so cute. You were worried I’d get eaten by a monster while I was away?”

  He shook his head again, growing frustrated.

  “Thanks. Nice to see you care.”

  Imps-a-lot pointed around him before doing his monster pose.

  “There were monsters inside the Fortress?” Joelle asked slowly.

  This time he nodded, his mouth forming a wide ‘O’ shape, the signal for when he was scared.

  Had some of the forest creatures gone rabid, or had monsters from the Badlands escaped?

  Joelle took off her filthy Venator armour and put on a fresh set of Mid-Realmer clothes. It’d been months since she’d worn them. She’d even missed weaponry training with Urkzal, something she’d never thought would happen. She pulled her hair into its usual high ponytail and donned her family cloak.

  She needed to track down Elijah and Emi next. Once she’d seen them she’d head down to the city and her old family home. Her parents knew she was returning today and they’d probably invited the family down for dinner.

  The Mace family was among the most prominent Venator families. They originally hailed from China and Joelle’s uncle and his family were stationed in Beijing. Her mother had decided to live in Veneseron city however, after falling in love with Joelle’s British father whilst they trained together. The Mace family had been Venators for generations. Joelle’s great grandmother, Jingfei, was a particularly revered Realmer. It was a lot for her to live up to, but Joelle was determined to do so.

  “C’mon then,” she said to Impy as she left her room.

  The suns shone bright, but she could tell that autumn was drifting into the Fortress. As she gazed lovingly at the Fortress she noticed repairs going on. One Arch-Realmer was fixing a broken window and another Venator was shifting rubble from a pathway with air element magic.

  After checking several rec rooms for her friends, Joelle headed to the Archives, Sir Imps-a lot waddling along behind her.

  This chamber was perhaps the biggest in Veneseron, full to the brim with millions of books. Joelle entered the labyrinth of shelves. She, Elijah and Emi always worked at the tables in the aquatic book section whenever they had assignments to complete for class. Joelle headed there now, ducking occasionally whenever a book fluttered over her head and onto another shelf.

  As she turned the corner a cluster of tables came into vie
w. Instead of her friends, however, she saw her least favourite person in Veneseron sitting there.

  Bane Madagant was bullying a couple of young Novices off of their own table so he could have the place to himself.

  As the Novices scurried away, Bane caught sight of her.

  “Oi, Mace, this area is for respectable families only. Take your repulsiveness elsewhere, will you?”

  Joelle started at his poisonous tone. “I’ll do what I want, Madagant.”

  She tried to ignore him, instead looking around the countless bookshelves, and the tables dotted around. Her friends weren’t here either.

  “What are you looking for, Mace?” Bane drawled.

  He was merely sitting in his chair with a book before him, but still managed to exude an overwhelming air of arrogance. Bane’s Venator family was one of the eldest, and certainly the richest.

  His slicked-back blond hair glinted with flecks of emerald, whilst his green eyes sparked with flecks of gold. Bane’s pale brown skin and crescent pupils were further hints of his non-human heritage.

  “None of your business,” Joelle replied.

  “If it’s your little friends, I wouldn’t bother,” said Bane.

  Joelle sighed, not wanting to get into a verbal sparring match.

  “I mean,” Bane continued, “what with them being dead and everything.”

  “What’re you on about?”

  “You don’t know?” Bane snorted. “There’s been a demon invasion.”

  Joelle opened her mouth to tell Bane he shouldn’t joke about something like that when it clicked. She’d seen Master Elorian fixing a castle wall but guessed a Venator must’ve broken it by accident. She’d also overheard people talking about visiting their friends in the Infirmary. She assumed there’d been a bad bout of orc acne in the Fortress again. Now she realised what Impy had been trying to tell her. It all added up.

  “Demons invaded? But that should be impossible. Wait, no one died, did they? Tell me you’re joking?” Nausea rolled over her. She’d only arrived at the Fortress an hour ago. She hadn’t been home yet.

  “My family—the demons didn’t attack the city, did they? Answer me.”