by Jason Wilcox
Azgiel closed his eyes and put both hands on the hard cold surface. Deep within the rock, from the very center, dormant molecules came to life. Particles vibrated. Old veins flowed again, and the rock let out an audible moan that sounded like a yawn.
Reopening his eyes and removing his hands, Azgiel looked at the rock. The lines glowed with a purplish hue.
“Sir,” Kaz spoke from behind Azgiel, catching him off guard. He had been so focused on his work he hadn’t noticed Kaz approach him.
He was worried about the pending war, especially without his sword. But he had hope that if the humans would join them, they may still have a chance, even though it would be an uphill battle.
Turning around, Azgiel looked at his faithful demon sitting on the ruin closest to them. One of the trolls was waving a hand at him to get him off, because they were still working on it.
With a whoosh and loud thump, Kaz landed on the ground next to Azgiel. He pulled his wings in and gave a shiver. Azgiel was surprised to see him. It had only been a matter of hours since the demons left for their many different orders. None of them were expected back for at least a day, but there he was with a concerned look.
“Azgiel, may we speak?” He leaned against a boulder, only to cause a large troll to growl at him.
“Yes, yes.” Azgiel waved for him to keep talking. “What brings you back so quickly? Were there problems?”
“You could say that,” Kaz said as he paced in front of Azgiel. His footsteps shook the ground. His large wings and horns almost scraped some of the trolls’ equipment, that looked like wooden platforms.
“Well?” Azgiel stepped towards him raising an eyebrow. He was in no mood for games.
Kaz gave a loud audible swallow. “There’s a civil war that has been going for a couple of years, and the humans have broken into two groups which are fighting one another.”
“Fighting between one another?” Azgiel gave a confused look. “Humans? So strange.” He smiled sarcastically, but Kaz just stared at him, so Azgiel became serious again. His sarcasm about humans fighting each other had been missed.
“There’s more,” Kaz spoke again, not acknowledging Azgiel’s comments. “There’s something else that you have to know.”
“Yes, yes.” Azgiel tried to keep himself patient.
“Do you remember a demon named Hermue?”
“Hermue…Hermue…”Azgiel rubbed his chin. “The name sounds familiar, but I’m struggling to place it.”
“Do you remember when there was an uprising with the native demons, far before the war with Mauldrin? They said that you were corrupting our species, tried to kill you, and wanted to bring the demons that served you back to them.”
Azgiel looked to the ground and narrowed his eyes. “Hermue! Yes, the demon that led the uprising.” He looked back to Kaz. “Didn’t I put him into a cell of time?”
“That’s the one.” Kaz got off the rock and walked over to the ruin that Azgiel just finished working on. “He’s back. The humans brought him back somehow, just like they did you.” He turned and looked at Azgiel with his black eyes. “He’s managed to become a leader of sorts and has been leading an overthrow of the country. He has a massive army of dark souls and humans alike.”
“Sir,” the same troll as before spoke to Azgiel.
“Yes, what is it?” Azgiel snapped.
“We’ve finished number two, sir.” The troll seemed to shrink a little from Azgiel’s harshness. He looked over and saw trolls pulling off the last of their equipment from the large boulder and leaving it to go help with others.
“Not right now.” Azgiel waved a hand at him. “Just keep working on the other ones.” The troll made a strange growl and walked away.
“A massive army you say?” Azgiel smiled. “I think we need to pay him a visit.”
Kaz shifted his weight and fluttered his wings. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m thinking he might still have some angry feelings towards you,” his deep voice had a growl to it.
Looking past the ruins and towards the lake, Azgiel glanced towards the troll’s homes. The early morning mist was almost burnt off. Only a small amount still clung to the more lush areas, holding to the ferns and bushes as long as it could. Lines of smoke lifted into the air from the female trolls cooking and taking care of whatever trolls take care of. They were happy and loved their homes.
“We’ll give him this planet.” Azgiel still gazed upon the troll homes. “Once Hermue finds out that we’re here, he’ll have to be afraid, knowing that we could slaughter him and his army if we so chose.” He looked over at Kaz. “We’ll gather a large number of demons and pay him a visit. We’ll tell him to join us, and once we overthrow Triaad, we’ll give him this planet and let him run it. He’ll salivate for the opportunity.”
Kaz gave a doubting, tight-lipped look. “I’m not sure if Hermue would desire such an offer.”
“He’s overthrown the humans and fighting a war with them using dark souls.” Azgiel patted Kaz on the arm and chuckled. “Of course he’s going to be interested.”
Furrowing his brow, Kaz looked away for a second. “If you say so.” He looked back to Azgiel. “You’re really going to give him this planet after this war?”
“Absolutely not.” Azgiel walked over to the next ruin that was ready and waiting for him. “We’ll put him and his army on the front lines and hope they just get slaughtered. But if they don’t, I’ll stick him back into a cell of time and let those that follow him, learn to follow me.” He placed his hand on the rock’s surface. “Now, if you would be so kind. I want you to get me at least twenty demons and have them ready to visit Hermue. Once you’re ready, come get me.”
With a nod, Kaz turned and walked away. Azgiel loved that about his top demon. Even if he disagreed with Azgiel, Kaz was always ready to obey. He was indispensable, even back when he first met him. The demon was powerful and very loyal.
The ruin became aware of Azgiel’s presence and seemed to call to him. He closed his eyes and felt the energy that had been dormant for so long. It shifted, but this time Azgiel was warmed up and called to the power within. Like an instant spider web, a purplish glow pulsed through the rock. Opening his eyes and stepping away, Azgiel could see the carvings filling like the first.
One continuous line wrapped around the rock with a number of small circular detailed patterns meticulously placed about the surface. His wife had done an amazing job, but he would never expect less of her.
He turned to look down the road where he had seen Maselda last. She was at the village talking with some bark gnomes. There were five of them getting excited about something. They were hoping and dancing around her, pointing towards the lake. Maselda was laughing and patted one of the armor-encased gnomes, that stood a little higher than her knees.
She had gotten out of bed before Azgiel that morning, whistling a joyful tune. He knew why she was so upbeat, and even though he didn’t believe Bridget was alive, he wasn’t going to take that happiness away. With everything going on, she needed something to hope for.
Two of the bark gnomes picked up sticks and began sword fighting. The scene was common in Maselda’s village and had taken time for Azgiel to get used to. But nothing was the same compared to when he ran his kingdom. There had been order and discipline, not silly games. Nor were there any bark gnomes or trolls in his castle. They lived on the outskirts and served him well there.
A large dark gray troll passed in front of Azgiel, carrying a load of supplies for the other trolls. He was taller than Azgiel, even taller than the demons. Dark black hair grew over his head and back. Knowing the war was coming, Azgiel turned his attention back to matters at hand.
CHAPTER 20
“There has to be a way for you to eat without dragging me into that mess hall!” Tagen felt frustrated following along behind Mauldrin. “I’m sick of being stared at by humans. I can’t have the peace I once possessed when I went into the shadows.”
Mauldrin walked down the almost
empty hallway and gave no heed to Tagen. Anger raged in Tagen and he clenched his fists. A tall, broad man walked past wearing thick black armor. He had on those ridiculous glasses which allowed him to see Tagen. Detesting the glasses, Tagen hissed as the man walked past staring at him.
“Mauldrin,” Tagen spoke up again, walking a little closer. He was getting frustrated with being ignored. “We need to leave this place. They’re holding you back,” he growled, “I’m sick of them. I was once treated with greatness. Now look at me, not even appreciated.”
Stopping, Mauldrin turned with a grimace on his face. The hallway was now empty. “Do you ever stop whining?” He blinked, his eyes wandered, looking for Tagen who was in shadow form. “If you’re telling me the truth, I’m not sure why anyone would treat you with greatness.”
Tagen came out of shadow form and got into Mauldrin’s face.
“Greatness comes from within, Tagen,” Mauldrin said calmly even with Tagen trying to intimidate him. “You’re so filled with whining and running from everything, you have no time for greatness. If you had been great at some time and honored as such, I’m sure you didn’t act like this.” With that, Mauldrin turned and began walking once again.
Breathing faster, Tagen was about to explode and show Mauldrin what his strength was. Pressure grew in his eyes and muscles as darkness began to fill the hallway. Black veins began to grow across the ground from where Tagen stood.
Turning around once again, Mauldrin faced Tagen, standing only a few feet away. “But Tagen, I appreciate the help you’ve given me.” There was sincerity in Mauldrin’s eyes, which soothed Tagen. The blackness dissipated and the black roots disappeared.
The room began to spin, and Tagen felt light headed. He stumbled and Mauldrin made his way back, just in time to catch Tagen as he fell. Blackness filled his vision and sounds were muted.
Tagen once again found himself in a human body. He was kneeling in front of Azgiel. He could feel the weight of heavy armor on his body. Looking about, he could see that he was in the main hall and a large crowd of people stood behind him at the bottom of the steps. Azgiel stood in front of his throne holding a plain metal sword and dressed in a fancy golden robe with three red stripes on the shoulder. They were Azgiel’s old markings. But how could he be there?
Was it another dream or vision?
Triaad! Tagen saw him standing with other men to the side of the throne wearing purple robes. He was giving Tagen a cold look that made him uncomfortable. To the other side of the throne, and just behind Azgiel, was a demon Tagen knew too well, Kaz, and a few other demons. Between the demons, a woman sat on an equally elaborate throne. It was the Witch, but she didn’t glow, she was human. Tagen had never seen her in such a state and found it curious. She was smiling a warm, caring smile.
Azgiel lifted the sword, which made Tagen want to run, but he couldn’t move. He had no control of the body.
“Blayth, my friend and trusted advisor,” Azgiel looked at him as he spoke. Why would Azgiel be calling him Blayth? “You’ve been kind and true, and have proven your valor. From this day forward, you will be known as the commander of my armies and shall join the advisors circle as one with the throne. Through the military chain of command, there shall be none higher than thee, except for those on the throne.” Azgiel brought his sword down and touched it upon each of Tagen’s shoulders.
Cheers rang out filling the hall. A sense of pride and humility overwhelmed Tagen and he could feel warm droplets of tears rolling down his cheeks. Azgiel lowered his hand and helped Tagen up, only to embrace him.
“Be vigilant my friend,” Azgiel whispered in his ear as he embraced him. “You are one of few that I trust, as spies and traitors are beginning to find their way into the heart of this kingdom. Trust no one, and only report to me. A war is coming.” After he spoke, he let him go and turned him to the crowed. The applause and cheering grew louder.
Tagen had so many questions. He wanted to turn and talk to Azgiel, ask him what was going on, ask him who he really was. But he couldn’t, he still couldn’t control the events that were happening. He was just a spectator. The crowd flashed white and everything blurred. Mauldrin’s voice filled his ears.
“Tagen, are you okay?”
“Blayth,” Tagen said softly, still stuck on the name. It somehow resonated with him.
“What?” Mauldrin leaned in closer. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” He pushed away from him and stood up. People walked by, unconcerned.
Moving back from Tagen, Mauldrin looked down the hallway. “Let’s head to the room. It’s just around the corner. I have questions for you.”
Tagen gave a half-hearted smirk. Was what I saw real? Everything seems so real. I have never experienced anything like this. Dark souls don’t dream. I’ve never dreamt before. Can this be how a dark soul dies?
The door shut with a bang, and Mauldrin walked over to the bed and sat down. “So, Tagen, tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing.”
“Knock it off!” Mauldrin snapped and stood up. “Your skin keeps changing and you keep passing out. Look at your hands. Are you changing into something? I need to know what’s going on if I’m going to keep you safe.”
“I’m…” Tagen looked down at his hands. His palms were completely white. He wiggled his fingers, shocked by the color of his skin. Using his thumb, he rubbed it along the tips of his fingers. They were silky smooth.
“I need you to tell me the truth,” Mauldrin sighed and sat on the bed again.
At first Tagen was going to lie, like he had been doing the other times and deny anything was going on, but Mauldrin’s response gave him hesitation. He decided it was time to be honest. “The truth.” Tagen let out a breath. “Here it is. I keep having these strange dreams or visions when I pass out. None of them make sense. I’m always looking through this human’s eyes, in various situations. A couple of times I was with Azgiel, and another time I was with a woman.” He furrowed his brow in confusion. It was hard to put everything into words. “When I wake up, I often have these white marks.” He held his hands up showing his white palms.
“Interesting.” Mauldrin looked down at his hands and then back to him. “So what does it all mean? What’s happening to you?”
Tagen paced at the end of the bed, debating what he should say, since he didn’t know what was happening. Finally, he stopped walking. “My best guess…I’m dying.”
“You’re dying?”
“Maybe.” Tagen shrugged his shoulders. “I’m the oldest dark soul I know. The others that were created about the time I was, died years ago during the wars with the Witch. Maybe this is what happens when we get too old. So, yes, maybe I’m dying.” His words were a little more confident.
“Strange.” Mauldrin stood up and walked over to him. Taking one of his hands, Mauldrin felt the soft white skin. “So it’s like the blackness, your blood, is being sucked out of you?”
“Yeah…” Tagen hadn’t thought of it like that, but it sounded reasonable. “Something like that.”
“How long do you have left?”
“I…I…don’t really know.” Even though Tagen believed he was dying, he hadn’t thought about the ending, it took him aback. He didn’t want to die.
“And what’s with these dreams, visions you’re having?” Mauldrin let go of his hand.
“I’m not sure.” Tagen scratched his head. “They could just be strange drams. Or maybe they could be something I’m seeing through someone else…or…”
“Or past memories from who you used to be?”
“No,” Tagen went to say more, but was cut off by a loud alarm that hurt his ears. The regular lights shut off and red lights switched on. Commotion could be heard in the halls.
CHAPTER 21
“We need to find James,” Caden yelled over the alarms. He looked at Tagen who had his hands over the holes that made up his ears. Even though he had more questions for Tagen, there were more pressing matters no
w.
Not wanting to wait for the dark soul, Caden opened the door and moved into the rush of people in the hallway. The place was a mess and in chaos. There was no way he was going to be able to find James. A large soldier accidentally ran into him and almost knocked him over. Caden moved back, looking up and down the hallway, thinking about which way to go.
“Caden,” someone yelled. “Caden.” The voice wasn’t familiar and was high pitched. Through the crowd, a boy about sixteen years old pushed through. “Caden,” he yelled one more time. Reaching out, Caden pulled him to the side, getting him out of the rush of traffic.
“What’s going on?” Caden asked, even though he had no idea who the boy was.
“We’re being attacked.” He pulled on Caden’s arm as he spoke. “I was ordered to get you. This way, quickly.”
Caden looked back once to see if Tagen was there, but he was nowhere in sight. Either the dark soul was making his escape or he was doing his typical thing of being in shadow form. There was no time to try to figure it out. He hoped he was there.
They pushed through numerous people down three hallways, only to stop in front of a large metal plated door. The boy pushed a couple of buttons, and the door rose revealing a team of men putting on gear and getting guns. Each wall had numerous weapons, armor, and other gear. It was a type of armory.
“Let’s move!” James barked. He turned to see Caden. “Get armor on and get a gun, the perimeter has been breached.”
“Is that all, sir?” the boy asked.
“Yes, Brandon,” James’s voice was softer but still rushed. “Go to the General and see what he needs.”
A large bay door opened to the outside. “I don’t have time to waste. You’ll have to catch up after you get your armor on,” James spoke quickly while he picked up his gun. The men with James were already running out the bay door.