Misanthropy (Born of the Phoenix Book 2)

by David Murray Forrester

  “He’s coming to take it back, is he?” A custodian of the dead, no doubt. Kelaire thought about the collection of skulls within the haunting chamber. Hundreds were there, of both men and beasts. ‘They will all die.’ Looking down at the encampment, Kelaire watched the knights go about their business. “An idle threat,” she turned her gaze to the forest, directing her words towards the phantoms. “If you come for them you will find me, and oblivion. Mortals may fear you, but I do not. The sphere is mine now. Stay under your tree, less you want to spend eternity in the void.”

  Shifting herself into a comfortable position, Kelaire rested her arms behind her head and closed her eyes to sleep. The jungle was quiet.

  “A dragon versus a behemoth, that’s an easy one,” said Jerron. “The dragon would win every time!”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” said Maynard, shaking his finger. “Behemoths are just as big, if not bigger than dragons. In a ground fight, I think a behemoth’s strength would win out over a dragon.”

  “What about the dragon’s fire breath?” Jerron said with a victorious grin. “He’d melt the flesh right off its bones.”

  “Not all dragons can breathe fire. Plus, there are behemoths who have scaled carapaces so the fire wouldn’t be enough to kill them. Not to mention that some behemoths can spit acid.”

  “Acid! Against fire! You can’t be serious?” Jerron noticed Haycox approaching. “Haycox, a dragon or a behemoth, who do you think would win?”

  “That’s a tough one. There’s too many varieties of each species, you’d have to be more specific.”

  Maynard laughed. “See, Jerron. There’s no easy, clear winner.”

  Dragons and behemoths, deep down, men truly never shed their boyish nature. “Maynard, can you give me a moment with Jerron?” said Haycox.

  “No problem. I’ve got to take a piss anyway.” Maynard left them alone to talk.

  “What do you look so happy about?” asked Jerron.

  “You were right,”

  “Right about what?”

  “The queen,” said Haycox. “Tomorrow she’s going to reappoint me as General.”

  “I told you she would,” Jerron slapped him on the back. “That was a lot faster than I was expecting. What’d you do to tip the scales in your favour?”

  “I just told her I’d help her defeat the Surangi by any means necessary. She has some big plans for Engalia’s future.” Plans which don’t involve the king. Haycox wondered if Traciel felt lonely, isolated. Balester was not worthy of being her lover. Often, Haycox saw a deep longing in Traciel’s eyes. Perhaps she desires a stronger man to be at her side. If he wasn’t so taken with Kelaire, Haycox may have considered pursuing her. If he were to take her hand, he would not be general, he would be king.

  “The tide’s finally turning in our favour!” With a satisfied grunt, Jerron leant against a marble spire. “I enjoyed scouting today. Do you wanna scout again tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. We’ll scout again tomorrow.” Scouting made Haycox feel as though he was leading a vanguard. “Hey, why don’t you share second watch with me tonight?” Haycox preferred to have Jerron by his side than one of the other knights.

  “Second watch?” Jerron shook his head. “You know I’m a night owl, Haycox. Midnight’s when I’m at my best! You on the other hand, you’re an early riser. Dawn’s your bride. We’re out of sync, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s a shame. There aren’t many men here that can hold up a conversation. Ah, can’t be helped, I suppose. I’ll come relieve you when the time comes.” The night was calm. The jungle was eerily silent. “Stay alert, tonight. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it will be a peaceful night. Don’t let your guard down.”

  “Everything will be fine, Ben. I’ve got it under control.”

  “Good,” nodded Haycox. “See you in a few hours then.” With a wave, he retired for the night.

  A fierce gust of wind assaulted the glade, violently shaking the branch which Kelaire slept upon. She awoke and sat herself up, staring into the jungle with a yawn. Not often was she awoken by the wind. The stars were veiled by an unnatural, black fog. An ominous dread fell upon her as she sensed a malevolent spirit approaching. Dropping from her branch, she landed elegantly on the ground. The whispering voices echoed around her. “So, you’ve chosen death then, have you?” Grinning, she unleashed a small amount of her power. With glowing eyes, she drew her rapier from its scabbard. Kelaire took a step forward and froze, sensing the weight of an incredibly powerful unholy aura descending on the glade. It was far greater than she had imagined. No spirit wielded such intense power. She had never experienced anything like it.

  Terrified screams broke the silence of the night. Horns blew loudly. Knights scrambled for their weapons. A hellish screech pierced the ears of all those within the camp, so evil in nature, that the knight’s courage waned, fearing the devil has arisen to ensnare their souls.

  A black, formless shape, shrouded in mist came upon the sentinels. Negating their blades, it effortlessly tore their bodies apart. Rampaging, the unholy demon transformed the encampment into a chaotic bloodbath.

  Writhing, Kelaire shook her head in dismay. A shadow spirit demon, this foe was well beyond her. Refusing to flee, she unleashed the totality of her power, embracing her true wraith form. A sphere of light encircled Kelaire as her wings carried her into the air. Screaming in fury, she met her foe head on. The rapier in her hand blazing with blue flames.

  The clash was violent. Clearly, Kelaire was outmatched. Blood gushed from her wounds yet she kept on fighting, not allowing the disadvantage of her limitations to alter her perception of becoming triumphant over her adversary.

  “Traciel! I’ve found you!” Haycox rushed to her side. He was forced to shield his eyes from a bright flash of light. In the centre of camp, the two otherworldly monsters clashed in bitter combat. “Thank Delenair you’re unharmed! We have to get the hell out of here!”

  The queen was speechless. Transfixed on the battle, she could not look away fearing that at any moment, Kelaire would be killed.

  Helina stood by Traciel. The Captain of the Queensguard seized Traciel’s arm and began dragging her away. “Traciel! Snap out of it! We’ll die if we stay here!”

  “Where’s Kelaire?” Haycox asked as he helped Helina whisk the queen from danger.

  Raising her arm, Traciel pointed at the wraith battling the demon. At first, Haycox thought Traciel was saying that Kelaire had been killed by those unholy monsters but as he gazed into the face of the wraith, he beheld Kelaire’s unmistakable features.

  “That… that’s Kelaire?” Haycox forced them to stop.

  “Yes.” There was no point concealing the truth any longer.

  Helina stood dumbfounded. This whole time she believed Kelaire to be a mere Maidaire.

  As a wraith, Kelaire appeared even more beautiful to Haycox. “I knew there was something different about her,” unsheathing his broadsword, he stepped away from the pair. “You two get to safety. I’m going to help Kelaire defeat the demon.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Haycox! There’s nothing you can do to help her! The demon’s too powerful!” Helina thought him a madman. There were scarce few knights left alive. Helina couldn’t afford to lose Haycox to a doomed act of knight’s chivalry. “I need you to help me protect the queen! Forget about Kelaire!”

  “I won’t abandon her to die!” Clearly, the Captain of the Queensguard disapproved of his choice. Helina’s irritation was not masked. With a sigh, Haycox looked to the ground before meeting Helina’s eyes, hoping to find empathy within them. “I’m in love with her.”

  Love. A primal force which empowers a man with the courage to accomplish feats and conquer horrors his fear desires to flee from. Helina knew courage alone would not be sufficient enough to assure Haycox’s victory over the hellish demon. Knights, they’re too foolhardy. Helina needed Haycox. She couldn’t have him throwing his life away for a woman who held no interest in him. “Just because you’
re in love with Kelaire doesn’t mean you have the strength to save her! Think about it, Haycox! Look! Look for yourself!” she pointed at the demon. Shrouded in a putrid, black fog, it was a terror to behold. “That’s a demon! Your sword cannot wound it!”

  Holding up his broadsword, Haycox spoke with determination. “On the contrary, this is Arktate. It once belonged to a Valliceth Knight. It’s imbued with divine, holy magic. With this sword, I will be able to kill the demon! I will cast it into oblivion and save Kelaire!”

  A loud crash stole their attention. The demon, having smote Kelaire, hovered above her triumphantly. Kelaire arose from underneath a pile of debris. A stubborn, wrathful expression upon her face. Blood dripped from several ghastly wounds.

  “Ben!” Traciel stepped forward, her hands trembling. “Please, save Kelaire!”

  The queen’s words fortified his goal. Having Traciel’s blessing sent his heart soaring. As a knight of valour, he would not failure her. “Consider it done!”

  Growling in disbelief and anger, Helina turned her face away. ‘Naive fools! Both of them!’ To underestimate a demon is to invite death. No words of reason could sway him now. Not after being roused by Traciel’s desperate plea. For Haycox to have a chance of victory, he’ll need to fight with a clear, focused mind. Swallowing her pride, Helina clenched her fist. “Fight hard, Haycox. Fight hard! Rescue your love and protect your queen! Show this demon the strength and valour of men!”

  “Right!” Failure was not an option. Not for him, not for Haycox the Unshakable. Bellowing a war cry, Haycox surged forth.

  “You can do it, Ben,” Traciel mumbled under her breath. Eternal sadness would befall her if Kelaire was to die.

  Now that the matter was settled, Helina grabbed Traciel’s arm to lead her somewhere safer.

  “No!” Traciel’s anger surfaced. “I want to stay!” Her voice broke. “I need to see what happens. I can’t leave them.”

  “We won’t leave them,” said Helina, continuing to tug at Traciel’s arm. “I’m just going to take you to the horses. It will be safer there.” Time for a white lie. “If Kelaire and Haycox look to be losing the battle, we can ride in and save them.”

  “Of course!” Traciel’s face lit up. She was not useless, after all. If the worst scenario was to play-out, they would still survive.

  The horse’s corpses were dried out, petrified, having been entirely drained of their life essence. Their once beautiful coats transformed into gruesome, stretched leather. Their mouths were twisted in silent screams of agony. Traciel gasped and fell to her knees. Her beautiful horses, it was awful, unspeakable. Helina knelt over her, offering sympathy, knowing the depth of adoration the queen held for her magnificent steeds. The demon was more dreadfully powerful than Helina had expected. She mourned also. Their flight was going to be on foot. What chance did they have of escape?

  Dismembered limbs and severed heads lay strewn amongst the camp. The knights had been slaughtered, butchered. The demon’s savagery, pitiless. Mortals were nothing to the ageless terror. A helplessness befell Haycox as he raced past the mangled body parts of his former comrades. Such death. No. Banishing the defeatist thoughts from his mind, he focused only on Kelaire. The fallen knights were lesser men and he possessed Arktate; he would surpass all others and be triumphant.

  Gasping for breath, Kelaire shakily returned to her feet after being knocked down once more. The difference in their strength was astronomical. Her death was imminent. Shredded wings hung from her back. No longer did the ivory shimmer. They bled, their magnificence lost. The shadow spirit demon was beyond her. Kelaire wished she had of fled when she had the chance. Glaring at the demon, Kelaire noticed Haycox approaching, the sword in his hand was a miracle unasked for. To Kelaire, the holy aura of the blade shone as starlight. She didn’t understand why the fool had come to risk his life for her, but she would gladly accept the offering. The holy blade could inflict massive damage on the demon. All she had to do was keep the demon’s attention focused on her for a few moments longer so the foul entity wouldn’t notice the divine weapon, allowing Haycox to launch his surprise counter attack.

  Scarce energy remained in Kelaire’s heavily-taxed limbs. Her rapier felt unnaturally heavy in her hand. She could feel the fire within her soul diminishing. Magic was all that remained. Drawing out her remaining mana, Kelaire’s entire body glowed with violet light. The rapier blazed blue. The demon’s white eyes flashed, preparing to counter her attack and unleash a hellish onslaught of its own.

  Screaming in rage, Haycox plunged Arktate into the demon’s otherworldly body. The black shroud surrounding the demon dissipated in the presence of the divine blade. Kelaire surged forward with the last of her strength. The blazing rapier buried itself deep within the demon’s chest. The wounded shadow spirit did not move. The darkness of its body receded, accumulating in a central core of swirling mist.

  Grinning, Haycox revelled in the victory. He had wielded Arktate for many years and never knew the ancient weapon possessed such incredible power. Haycox wondered if he was now a holy knight, a champion of the gods.

  Arktate shattered. Shards of the blade tore Haycox’s skin apart as the weapon exploded. The demon’s black shroud surged around them. Its white eyes burned with wrath. Unleashing unholy magic, Haycox’s body shook violently. His face contorted in pain as his body imploded in on itself, showering Kelaire with gore. The demon turned its attention on her. With a single strike, Kelaire’s head was removed from her body.

  Traciel cried out in anguish. Helina pulled the sobbing queen away. Retreating into the safety of the jungle’s thick undergrowth.

  Standing over Kelaire’s body, the demon held out its hand. The crystal sphere abandoned Kelaire and returned to its master. Mist within the sphere swirled, as if rejoicing. The souls of the dead knights arose from their corpses, standing as ghostly soldiers awaiting commands. The demon picked up Kelaire’s severed head and as it did, the black shroud dissolved her skin so that only her pale, white skull remained. With its prize claimed and property returned, the demon departed. The knights followed. Their souls now bound to the demon for all eternity.

  Sobbing uncontrollably, Traciel was inconsolable. Helina knelt beside the pond and splashed water on her face. How long had she ran carrying Traciel? An hour? Two? The reflection in the water was a woman exhausted. Dirt stained her face. The curls of her hair a tangled mess. Rubbing her forehead, she tried to come to terms with recent events. The knights were dead. Her elite Queensguard slaughtered. Haycox. Kelaire. How did it come to this? The quest was a failure. Traciel was a complete mess, but at least she was still alive.

  Wrapping Traciel up in her arms, Helina laid back, staring at the oncoming dawn through the mangled branches of the trees surrounding the pond. Her calves ached. Arms felt utterly spent from carrying Traciel. With her adrenaline consumed, exhaustion set into her limbs.

  “It’s alright, Traciel,” said Helina, caressing the queen. “We’ll be alright. Just rest now. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll look after you.”

  The trembling in Traciel’s body lessened. Finally, she began to calm. Closing her eyes, Helina allowed herself to sleep.

  Helina awoke from a nightmare into a waking horror. Traciel screamed. Her leg ensnared by the slimy tentacle of a frightening swamp creature. Its body was unlike anything Helina had ever seen. Apart from the large mouth on its head, the creature’s stomach was hideous second gaping mouth, lined with jagged teeth. Four short tentacles protruded from its chest while four thick, powerful tentacles allowed the creature to move with tremendous speed and agility.

  As Helina reached for her sword, a second creature set upon her. Helina’s arm disappeared into the creature’s second mouth as its tentacles wrapped around her, entangling her in a grip from which she could not escape.

  Traciel continued screaming as the creature snapped her bones and ate her alive. The bizarre creature chittered, savouring the delicious, unfamiliar meat.

  Tears of pain and
misery streamed down Helina’s face. This was it. There was no escape this time. She screamed awfully as the creature’s teeth brought ruin upon her skin and consumed her flesh. Helina’s eyes closed, never again would they open.

  Chapter 11

  Smoke rose from the lit cigar, hanging loosely between Jerick’s fingers. He yawned, mornings didn’t agree with him. Inhaling deeply on the cigar, Jerick gazed at the sky as he leant against a leafless, dead tree. A new day, a new horde of nobles and peasants to rob. This was a prosperous time for his bandit gang. After King Balester’s unexplained disappearance from the royal palace a few days ago, droves of citizens have been evacuating Floreska.

  The Engalian capital is rife with fear. Wild and fabricated rumours of Lord Brackish’s rage and hatred of mankind are spoken of not only in the taverns and brothels of the lowborn, but in the prestigious villas and manors of nobles as well. With both the king and queen gone, the people feel there is no-one left to protect them. Fear transforms the mind, spawning irrational thoughts. The terror of a foreign power seizing control of the Engalian capital has made the people forget the perils of the north. They believe they are escaping to a remote and safe region when in fact, they are forging their own paths of doom. Jerick’s gang has amassed sacks teaming with sovereigns, silver coins, golden trinkets and priceless family heirlooms, pilfered from ill-fated travellers who find themselves wandering upon Jerick’s road.

  “Oi! Jerick!” Kassen emerged from within the camp, calling to his chief. His freshly sharpened axe in hand. “The first catch of the day has arrived. Time to fill the coffers again!”

  Jerick took another puff on his cigar. “Peasants or nobles?”

  “Don’t know,” he answered, spinning the axe in his hand. Kassen didn’t care to ask the lookouts for such details. The thirst for reaving and slaughter was strong within him. Social standing meant nothing, they all bleed the same. “Kieren didn’t say. They’ve got two wagons with them. One of ‘em might have some decent loot.”