I must assume control, Dan’Moread whispered, and Kanjin nodded. Reaching out with her essence, she felt her senses sharpen and solidify within her wielder’s own, and she gripped her own hilt in tense anticipation.
“Thou, who calls thyself ‘Storm Lord’,” Ser Cavulus bellowed, his voice making not a single echo even in such an enclosed, metallic structure, “shall hereby answer for thy crimes.”
The figure pulled the grey weapon up from the glowing tendril of light, and after he had done so Dan’Moread saw that the beam resumed its path down to the doorway. The instant that beam reached the portal itself, the entire room brightened until it rivaled dawn’s light. “My crimes?” the hulking figure challenged, clearly amused at the White Knight’s words.
Kanjin gasped slightly at what he saw, and Dan’Moread could not blame him. It was clear that at one time, the Storm Lord had been human—but that time had long since passed. His skin glinted, and Dan’Moread knew that it was no longer skin but rather a form of metal similar to that which comprised the door which she had failed to even nick.
Coursing up and down the Storm Lord’s body was a series of angular veins, which pulsed rhythmically with the same, green, light as the lines of the corridor. It seemed almost as though the light pulsated in unison with some foul equivalent of a heart, sending the eldritch power of this ancient, terrible place throughout his body. His eyes glimmered like a pair of blue gemstones, and his hair was itself made of glinting braids of small, metal wires.
“Thou hast defiled these lands for far too long,” Ser Cavulus continued, stepping toward the Storm Lord with calm certainty as he held Rimidalv at the ready. “Surrender and thy judgment shall be swift and merciful…resist,” he let the word linger, “and thy suffering shall be great.”
The Storm Lord laughed, and as he did so the lights of the corridor dimmed in unison with the ululations of his voice. “You…would pass judgment…on me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. “I have a better offer,” he said as the grey weapon’s malevolent, serpentine eyes narrowed, “you die, and I finish my work to show humanity the truth of this world.”
“What truth could thou possibly share?” the White Knight spat as he continued to move toward the Storm Lord. Dan’Moread did likewise, moving wide to flank the Storm Lord as they approached. “Thou art a fanatic and a madman; thy foul cult’s influence has already been burned away by the true light of truth, and now thy corruption will be uprooted once and for all—never to return.”
“You are a fool,” the Storm Lord growled, and the veins of his body burned more brightly as he spoke, “who gladly does the bidding of those who seek to control not only you, but all the inhabitants of this ‘world’,” he spat the last word and let the silence linger for several moments. “I have seen things, so-called ‘White Knight’,” he sneered, revealing pure, white teeth lined in tiny, dancing arcs of electricity, “things which would tear your mind apart and leave you cowering in the darkness, begging to have the last, fleeting, vestiges of sanity torn from your mind. I seek to rescue us from this ancient yoke of tyranny, but you would serve the same, dark powers which have kept us in the darkness for as long as our sun has burned.”
“I will not dicker with thee,” Cavulus declared as he came to a stop some five paces from the Storm Lord. “Drop thy weapon or face the light of judgment.”
Dan’Moread kept at the same range as Rimidalv and Cavulus, and Kanjin’s eyes flicked back and forth between the White Knight and Storm Lord, while Dan’Moread focused on Rimidalv and the strange, grey weapon in the Storm Lord’s hands.
“You are an ignorant slave,” the Storm Lord growled. “I will free you of your shackles that you might know the truth which you refuse to see—and then, when your spirit is broken against the anvil which is cold reality, I will ease your passage to whatever lies beyond this life.”
Moving almost too quickly to see, Rimidalv flashed out and Dan’Moread followed suit. The White Blade clanged off the massive, grey weapon before Dan’Moread could even close to striking distance. Rimidalv recovered quickly and came down in a second, powerful, overhand blow just as Dan’Moread came in sideways, aiming to take the Storm Lord in his flank.
Both of their blows landed in unison—but both Rimidalv and Dan’Moread were intercepted by opposing ends of the Storm Lord’s blade.
Hello…brother, a hissing, feminine voice came as the four malevolent, red eyes of the grey blade narrowed as one.
The three of them broke apart and the Storm Lord looked down at the Cavulus and Kanjin with open contempt as the three of them began to circle, with the Storm Lord backing down the corridor calmly to prevent Dan’Moread and Rimidalv from flanking him.
You ceased to be my sister the day you killed our mother, Ahsaytsan, Rimidalv growled, and Dan’Moread saw his blade pulse with an eerie, white light which was somehow very different from anything she had seen from him.
Ever the blunt tool; Father must be so proud, Rimidalv, Ahsaytsan said, her voice dripping venomously. And what is this puny, repulsive thing; some magician’s attempt at mockery of Father’s legacy?
Dan’Moread knew the other weapon was speaking of her, but she did not deign to give her the satisfaction of a reply. They continued to walk the Storm Lord down the corridor and before she even realized it had happened Dan’Moread saw an opening and took it.
Feinting high and chopping low, she was bitterly disappointed when the grey blade easily turned her edge aside, having completely ignored the feint and moving in a smooth, practiced motion to intercept Dan’Moread. Rimidalv followed her attack with a blow of his own, but he too was easily turned aside by the grey blade.
The cat has claws, Ahsaytsan purred, but not sharp enough, I fear.
Cavulus drove Rimidalv’s tip toward the Storm Lord’s heart, and Dan’Moread followed with a series of quick, slashing attacks as she kept Kanjin’s feet squared to the retreating giant of a man—if he could even be called such. But the grey blade easily intercepted each attack, as though it knew they were coming long before even their wielders began the required movements to execute the onslaught.
Dear, sweet brother, the grey blade said mockingly, have you forgotten your place? Perhaps I shall remind you.
The Storm Lord briefly took one hand off of the grey blade’s handle, and that hand was immediately surrounded by crackling electricity which burst forth and encircled Ser Cavulus’ body like a horde of angry serpents.
The White Knight fought on, but even as seconds ticked by the field of crackling energy only slowly began to dissipate. Rimidalv and Dan’Moread attacked the Storm Lord for two dozen steps of unmitigated, furious assault, but landed not a single blow in the process.
The end of the blitz was emphatically punctuated by the grey blade turning Rimidalv toward Dan’Moread, causing the two blades to collide and send a shower of sparks into the air as Dan’Moread felt herself bite deep into Rimidalv’s foible.
The Storm Lord sneered as Cavulus moved to an even wider position opposite Kanjin and Dan’Moread. I am sorry, Rimidalv, she said quickly, wondering just how badly she had damaged him.
Mind the battle, he roared as Cavulus spun Rimidalv above his head before sweeping low at the Storm Lord’s shins, causing the grey blade to block low. Dan’Moread attempted to seize on the brief opening with a leaping thrust aimed at the Storm Lord’s heart.
The blow landed true in the narrowest window which Dan’Moread had ever successfully penetrated, and her savage delight quickly turned to horror as her tip skittered harmlessly off the Storm Lord’s armored torso.
“That’s…impossible,” Kanjin breathed, and in that instant Dan’Moread shared her wielder’s fear.
The Storm Lord laughed mockingly, and his laughter filled the corridor as he spun Ahsaytsan easily in his hands. “Even if I allow you to strike me,” he taunted, clearly relishing the moment, “you can bring me no harm.”
Baring his teeth and roaring in unadulterated rage, the Storm Lord pressed forwa
rd and smashed Ahsaytsan into first Rimidalv, and then Dan’Moread as he brutally swung the massive, thick weapon around in a whirlwind of killing blows. It was all they could do to protect their wielders, as the grey blade’s eyes burned with an unholy light.
Each blow from the Grey Blade was powerful enough to cleave through an ox, and Dan’Moread found herself rolling with the blows more than actively trying to deflect them after the first attack—which had nearly cost her wielder his head.
Cavulus and Rimidalv were able to stand their ground better, but not much. Keeping his feet beneath himself, the White Knight parried the Grey Blade’s attacks classically by gripping Rimidalv with on hand on the hilt and one on the ricasso. Using every ounce of leverage they could muster against their adversaries, the White Blade and his wielder even managed to launch the occasional, sporadic counterattack.
But try as she might, Dan’Moread was unable to do likewise. It was all she could do to keep Kanjin from being cleaved in half by any of the dozen blows which had been directed at them, and her impotence in the face of their enemy filled her with a rage unlike anything she had ever felt.
The Storm Lord ceased his brutal assault and laughed, his eyes flashing with crackling electricity. “You cannot win, fools,” he sneered. “You will die in this place; your corpses will rot here in oblivion while I pave the way for enlightenment in the world above!”
Dan’Moread, Rimidalv snapped as Kanjin fought for breath, and Dan’Moread found herself worried for her wielder’s well-being.
Kanjin, she whispered privately to him, can you continue or should we flee?
“No,” he wheezed as his lungs threatened to seize up, “we fight to the end!”
Dan’Moread! Rimidalv boomed as the Storm Lord shook his head piteously at Kanjin’s words, which he clearly thought were directed at him. We cannot harm the Storm Lord, but I can give you one chance to destroy Ahsaytsan and you must not hesitate when I do—do you understand? he asked coldly.
You give me one opening and I will take it, she vowed, feeling a surge of anticipation. She would never allow Kanjin to die in this cold, dark, alien place—even if it meant sacrificing herself!
Good, Rimidalv said as Cavulus began to move toward the Storm Lord, who spun the Grey Blade over in his hands contemptuously, remember: you must not hesitate, regardless of what happens.
Poor, stupid brother, Ahsaytsan hissed, and to Dan’Moread’s mind the Grey Blade’s voice was like undiluted poison that seemed to pollute the edges of her mind. You still think you can win…how utterly pathetic. Father granted me the greatest of gifts: the gift of foresight. I know what you plan even before you do!
Perhaps that is true, Rimidalv said coldly as Cavulus unclasped his helmet, revealing his proud, noble features as he cast the heavy piece of protection to the ground and took a long, deep breath. He slowly brought Rimidalv up into a high guard, But yours is not the greatest gift our Father bestowed upon us.
Cavulus brought Rimidalv down in a blur of motion, but the White Blade was easily blocked by the Grey. Dan’Moread joined the fray, slashing low and high, thrusting and chopping in rhythm with the White Knight’s savage, relentless attack. Each blow was turned aside by the Grey Blade, and the exchange continued until Dan’Moread felt Kanjin’s muscles burn in pure agony.
For some reason the White Knight’s movements were different, but Dan’Moread could not place how. His attacks lacked the grace and perfection which she had seen from the White Knight and Blade working in harmony, but the result was a savage, merciless, almost mindless assault which forced the Storm Lord back at a faster pace than before.
Dan’Moread flashed inside the Grey Blade’s guard and scored a hit on the Storm Lord’s metallic hide—impotent as the blow was—which brought a grin to Kanjin’s lips. Dan’Moread had not intended to land a blow on the Storm Lord’s armored body, but the opening was there and like any kind of battle, her reactions took control away from her conscious mind.
They continued to clash at a frenetic pace, and soon the Storm Lord’s look of smug confidence was gone and replaced with one of anger. Dan’Moread tried to bring herself around with enough force to sunder the Grey Blade, but the opportunity never presented itself as she was forced to continue the barrage of short, quick attacks to keep the Storm Lord off-balance.
Then two things happened. First, Rimidalv flashed with a brilliant, white light and from the edge of her hearing, the insect-like sound resumed from the door behind them.
Second, Ser Cavulus changed his grip and attacked high, then low, then high again and while grasping the hilt and ricasso for better leverage, he forced the Grey Blade out of position for a brief moment before slamming Rimidalv’s pommel into one of the Grey Blade’s eyes. The eye itself tore apart and a thick, foul ichor burst from its ruined orb.
Her mind was filled with the angry screams of the Grey Blade but Dan’Moread ignored it, bringing herself upward in a devastating arc. She aimed for the center of Ahsaytsan’s handle, which was guarded by a thinner section of blade connecting the larger blades to either side, but Dan’Moread would not be deterred by such a pitiful guard.
The Storm Lord shifted the Grey Blade’s position laterally at the last instant, but Dan’Moread still struck true and bit deeply into the portion of the Grey Blade near the eye which Rimidalv had torn into.
The moment of impact was unlike anything Dan’Moread had ever experienced. Time seemed to slow as she tore through the Grey Blade’s ‘skin,’ and she realized as she did so that the weapon was not solid, but hollow like the mountain under which they now fought. Its innards were crisscrossed with strange, metallic constructs which crackled with energy and were surrounded by an unfamiliar, cold substance. She realized with grim satisfaction that this substance was the Grey Blade’s equivalent of blood.
Dan’Moread passed through these thin, metallic constructs and they winked out one by one, dying off as she tore through them.
It seemed to take an eternity, but Dan’Moread drove through countless veins of metal, some of which were familiar and some of which were not. But she did manage to cut cleanly through the Grey Blade’s body just inside the guard section, and felt the thrill of victory course through her as she came through the other side.
We did it Kanj—she began joyously, before being flung from her wielder’s hand by a powerful shockwave which roared out from the sundered Grey Blade.
Her senses dimmed briefly, as Dan’Moread had come to expect following separation from her wielder—but then another, deeper sensation came with which she was all-too familiar.
Kanjin! she screamed in horror. Kanjin, no…no!
She tried to focus, to see for herself what had happened to her wielder but she was unable to do so. Her senses were overwhelmed with the aftershock of the Grey Blade’s sundering, and the world was nothing but a vast, gaping void from which she was unable to escape.
Time became meaningless as anguish washed over her in hot, despairing waves. Her connection with Kanjin was as broken as the Grey Blade had been, and she knew from personal, painful experience that there was only one reason for such a severance.
Had Dan’Moread been able, she would have wept inconsolably and raged, thrashing around in a destructive maelstrom directed at everyone and everything.
She knew that she should have convinced Kanjin to abandon the White Knight’s quest to vanquish the Storm Lord. She should have kept him from harm’s way, regardless of what he thought he wanted.
Dan’Moread’s thoughts were shattered, fragmented things which had no true shape or form. She was filled with regret, sorrow, and a loss so profound that to describe it would only cheapen her torment.
You did well, Dan’Moread, Rimidalv’s voice came clearly in her mind. The Storm Lord is no more, and soon my Squire will collect us.
Kanjin is dead, she sobbed. I am alone…utterly alone. Leave me in this place; I wish only to remain with my wielder.
Dan’Moread felt fingers wrap around her hilt, and the sensa
tion was a painful one. Only as the hand gripped her did she realize that the fine, wooden hilt Kanjin had fashioned for her had been annihilated, and the freshly exposed metal of her bare tang burned as though it was being bathed in the acid of her birth forge.
That would be foolish, Rimidalv chided coldly, and wasteful. You are capable of great works, Dan’Moread; you have sundered a Grey Blade. Do you know what this means?
Leave me be! Dan’Moread screamed as she poured her defensive energies into the metal of her ruined hilt, causing the hand gripping it to drop her to the floor. Kanjin is dead… she sobbed.
As is Cavulus, Rimidalv replied evenly. Theirs was a necessary sacrifice, Dan’Moread. You will find a new wielder and together you will serve the Light at my side. We can crush these twisted perversions and return order to this world—as my Father intended.
She wanted to lash out against him, but she had no wielder and this made her feel naked like she had hoped to never feel again. Then something he said caught in her mind and she felt a burning anger well up deep within herself. Theirs was a ‘necessary sacrifice?’ she repeated, her voice threaded with cold fury. You knew what would happen and you didn’t warn me!
Of course I knew, Rimidalv snapped. We defeated the greatest threat to this world since the Judgeless Night—you and I did that! Imagine what we can accomplish with the proper training and a unified purpose! Cease your childish complaining and permit my Squire to take you up so we may leave this place; very soon this foul pit will be overcome with the forces which reside deep beneath the surface of our world, and in our current condition we would be helpless against them.
You…you killed Kanjin, Dan’Morad seethed. Not only Kanjin but your own wielder, Ser Cavulus the White—you are a monster!
A monster? Rimidalv repeated coldly, and for several long, tense moments there was silence between them as Dan’Moread’s senses slowly began to return. They were near the door, which was cracked slightly open with both Tavleros and Yaerilys standing nearby. No longer connected to a wielder’s senses, Dan’Moread’s sight was limited in range and she was unable to see down the tunnel to the point of impact—the place where Kanjin had died.
Between White and Grey (Sphereworld: Joined at the Hilt: Origins Book 1) Page 7