Song Of Fury (Gods Of Blood And Fire Book 2)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  It was evening before he slowed his pace, even his tireless legs needed rest on occasion. He stopped near a small hillock to catch his breath and relieve himself. A loud grunting noise quickly caught his attention. It sounded as if an enormous hog was at its evening slop. The source of the noise came from the backside of the huge mound. Curious, he jogged around to the backside of the hill to see what was making such a grizzly clatter. The swordsman found a large pile of freshly dug soil. A vulgar crunching was coming from the other side of the mass of the loose dirt. Unable to see over it, Kian climbed on top of the pile to get a better look.

  A huge indention had been freshly excavated from the hill’s eastern side. A monstrous creature sat shading itself from the evening sun, causally devouring a goblin. At least that was what Kian assumed it was, judging by the green leg dangling from the corner of the creature’s mouth. The hideous thing had a grey hide covered with cysts and warts; he watched as a revolting grey tongue wound out of a mouth full of uneven, pointed teeth to lick the goblin’s juices from its claw-like fingers. Kian wrinkled his nose and shook his head at the putrid smell emanating from the horrible creature.

  It turned its misshapen head and sniffed the air. Looking up at him with black, lifeless eyes and giving a strange grunt, it rose up from its awful meal. Easily nine feet tall, the monster emerged from its makeshift lair and bounded up the dirt pile with surprising speed.

  Only Kian’s quick reflexes saved him from being swatted off the loose soil by the monstrous creature. Jumping back down on the solid plain, Kian drew the crude goblin blade. The rotten smelling thing shambled towards him, its unnaturally long arms nearly dragging the ground as it came. Kian sprang backward, avoiding the creature’s deadly grasp as it reached out to crush the small thing that had disturbed its supper.

  Chest out and arms back, the Slayer bared his fangs and roared at the monster. The thing took no interest in his show of ferocity. Terrible claws stretched out to tear apart whatever it could grasp. Kian spun away from the creature’s talon-like fingers, the move saving him from a rending.

  Somewhere in his mind he knew what the thing was, but with the uncaged monster loose inside his head, he could not recall the name. When it lunged for him again, Kian struck one of the thing's claw-like hands off.

  Stepping back into a defensive stance, the swordsman watched as the creature howled in pain. Dark, thick blood pumped from the wound as the thing held its bloody wrist and stared at it, seemingly confused by the absence of its deadly appendage.

  Troll, the thing was a troll. The name just popped into his head. He remembered the lesson from Gildor. He knew not what kind of troll this was, but he remembered his master had told him they were vile and disgusting creatures.

  It screamed and jabbered in some unknown language before it charged the small man that had hurt it. Kian rolled to the side, dodging the troll’s clubbing fist. Springing up quickly, he struck the thing’s right arm twice and cut it from its body. The troll shrieked and squealed. Enraged, it swung its clawless arm at the swordsman. Ducking, Kian counter-attacked and left a large slash across its belly. The swordsman gagged, the stench of the thing's open bowel was nearly unbearable.

  It lunged at him, bloody stumps flailing wildly and mouth open to deliver a ghastly bite. Kian easily avoided the ungainly attack and began to weave in and out of the troll’s assaults. The swordsman began to meticulously cut the troll into pieces, hacking off parts until it fell, unable to continue the fight.

  Breathing hard, he stood over the mutilated creature, amazed how its dismembered body struggled as if it was trying to reform. The swordsman stretched his powerful shoulders and watched the defeated creature with grim satisfaction. The Waste was full of beasts, monsters, and animals. It would take forever for him to cross it if he didn’t start trying to avoid confronting every creature he came across. The man understood the logic of the thought, the predator inside him did not.

  He thought it was strange that the troll’s limbs shuddered and twitched. Cocking his head, he stared at the troll pieces. Kian was fixated on the bizarre movement of the thing's limbs until the ground was momentarily darkened by a huge shadow passing overhead. Shielding his eyes from the late day sun, Kian looked up to see what had darkened the evening sky.

  A dragon, not like the one he had faced in the Adorn forest, this was a great wyrm. Well over a hundred feet long and black as night, Kian watched the fierce beast circle high in the air over his head. His keen eyesight told him the dragon was descending as it circled. There was only one thing to do.

  He ran. Even with his unparalleled skill and great physical prowess, Kian knew he was no match for the flying serpent. Sure it had spotted him, he raced on as the dragon effortlessly glided above, easily keeping pace with his dash across the plain. Quickly seeing it was going to be impossible to out distance the wyrm, he began to look for cover.

  Glancing up as he fled, Kian saw the bone-chilling creature shake its massive head. Great gouts of dark fluid gushed from its mouth and scattered across the sky. The lethal liquid splattered on the ground, dissolving whatever it touched. The rocky terrain popped and sizzled, stone and soil melting at the slightest touch from the dragon’s acidic breath. The very air became toxic with the stench of the ruinous acid. Kian avoided the beast’s bombardment, holding his breath as he sprinted to get clear of the caustic site as quickly as he could.

  A narrow canyon loomed in the distance. It was his only chance. Kian looked over his shoulder. The wyrm had circled around and the colossal reptile was now bearing down on him. Running as fast as his powerful legs could carry him, Kian made for the small gap. It wasn’t much more than a few hundred yards away, but it might as well have been a few hundred miles.

  The dragon swooped for him, its man-sized talons reaching out for its prey. He dove to the ground as the beast flew over, one of its talons grazing his back and ripping a nasty furrow across his shoulder, knocking the goblin sword from his grasp. The wyrm climbed high in the air once again. Jumping to his feet, he ran on. Glancing back at his wound, he saw that it wasn’t too deep, though it would leave a horrible scar.

  He had to get to the canyon before it came around again or he was finished.

  Sprinting for the tight entrance, Kian chanced another look to the rear and saw that the dragon had banked and was streaking toward him again. In seconds, he could hear it snort and feel its hot breath on his back. Its enormous wings churned the air, whipping his hair around his head. The dragon’s talons reached out just as he slid into the canyon’s thin breach. The dragon crashed to a halt outside the small fissure. Kian could see its huge eye peering into the crack, seeing if it could reach its tiny prey. He moved quickly along the canyon’s twisting path, trying to go deeper inside.

  The walls of his sanctuary were so close, he had to turn sideways several times to continue on. He looked for a hole or an overhang that would protect him from the dragon’s lethal breath in case it tried to attack him from above. There was nothing else he could do until the monstrous beast decided to find a meal elsewhere.

  The end of the confined path opened into a much wider area. There was a shallow cavity worn in the rock wall that he could just squeeze into. It would keep the dragon from seeing him if it flew over the chasm, so he would stay in here until the beast left. Night would fall soon and the dark would help protect him from the black nightmare out on the plain.

  ***

  The enormous serpent folded its wings and began pacing back and forth in front of the canyon, swinging its huge tail back and forth like a colossal guard dog. The titanic brute extended its long neck above the fissure’s top, making sure the creature had not tried to climb out. The beast gave a satisfied grunt. He had chased his quarry into the small ravine, trapping it as he had been instructed.

  The scent of his race had been strong on the tiny thing. The waters of the Forever Sea, the origins of his kind’s power, ran through the creature’s veins. The smell had reminded him of the home he had abando
ned and the beginnings of his kind.

  It was long ago, but he could still remember when his race had lived along the shores of the dark sea. They had all been the same then. Like the dumb animals of Saree, they were single-minded, a collective united in the struggle to exist. It had been the sea that had changed them. Over time, their consumption of the black water had brought on a startling metamorphosis, giving them variety and an individuality they had never possessed before. Each member of the great herds began to think with separate minds filled with purpose and reason. Magic filled their bodies with its fantastic sensations of power. The water transformed them into beings without rival or peer. It also nearly destroyed them.

  They began to quarrel among themselves. Factions sprang up, each having a different view of how they should live and who should lead them. War came, dragon against dragon slaughtering each other in thousands of battles over countless eons until only a few of them remained. The Great Blue Balfear called for an accord. A pact was set forth and agreed upon. They left their home on the shores of the Forever Sea, spreading out through the known planes of existence; all had agreed that their race should never dwell together again. Solitude would protect them from extinction by their own hand.

  He and a handful of others had journeyed to Saree long before even the elves had raised their heads from the primordial muck and taken their first breath. Saying their farewells, the dragons parted ways, deciding it was safer for them to live alone in their new world. His life was tolerable but lonely, only seeing others of his kind when the drive to mate became too great to suppress.

  He had tried to forget his old life on the dark beaches of the Forever Sea. Saree was his home now, so he took an interest in what was happening in his new realm.

  He had watched the elven nations rise. Leaving their sacred wood to build a grand civilization on the strong backs of their human servants, the people from the forest evolved into a powerful and noble race. The elves prospered and multiplied, spreading out through Saree like a roaring flood.

  Their empires grew and they learned to master the magical forces that flowed throughout the world. Yet never did they trouble him or his kind. The elves respected the dragons, never daring to disturb their cloistered existence. Their knights and heroes only hunted the lesser of his kind that were native to this world. For millennia, he had lived free and untroubled. Until the day the accursed black-bloods entered this world.

  Dark and warlike, they staked claim to lands that did not belong to them. They clashed with the elves, but for all their great power, they were few and they needed allies. It was they who pulled the humans up from their pitiful existence. They taught the crude race the ways of civilization, all the while nurturing their natural hatred for their elven masters. The humans learned quickly to use fire and steel, and showed a unlimited capacity for violence. The elven nations disregarded the human’s advancement. Pride and a false sense of superiority had lulled them into believing that the humans could never pose a threat to them. They realized the error of their apathy far too late.

  The Reaper had led a multitude of the humans from simple servitude to a dark age of brutality and barbarism. The humans swept through Saree like a plague, leaving death and destruction in their wake. The elven nations were destroyed, their people annihilated, and the world grew dark under the domination of the new gods from across the Forever Sea.

  He didn’t care for the humans or any of their gods. He had lost his curiosity for the bleak world and those who dwelled in it.

  At least chasing the thing into the canyon had finally settled the old debt he had with the thing from the darkness. They were even now and it could no longer hold sway over him. He was free and glad of it. Vanguard may trust the thing in the dark, even revere it like a god, but he knew better.

  His dealings with the mortals and their gods had done nothing but diminish him. He was the mighty Tanissuel and he was above all the wingless things that crawled upon this world.

  The massive dragon glanced once more in to the canyon. He could no longer see the little thing that had gone inside. Raising his enormous body up on his hind legs, Tanissuel brought his full weight down on the canyon’s narrow entrance and destroyed the opening. If the little thing wanted out, it would have to climb.

  “My debt is paid, foul thing, trouble me no more.” The great dragon screamed at the sky in the language of his kind. Spreading his mighty wings, Tanissuel started the journey back to his lair away from the degradation of man.

  ***

  Standing alone on the bleak plain, the goddess had watched the swordsman disappear into the canyon to escape the great dragon. She had wanted to help him, but it had happened so fast. There would have been little she could have done anyway. There was but one warrior who had ever slain a great wyrm on their own. Only her father could lay claim to that feat.

  Reaching up, she touched her cheek. A single tear lay there. Her face was unaccustomed to the sensation. Did he mean so much to her? Kian was a mortal and half-elven, why did she feel such kinship for him? Her feelings had been troubling her since she had given him her ring. It was nothing, just a simple gesture to protect him. She had thought it would be a good thing to have a powerful creature like the Slayer beholden to her. Now what did she feel?

  “So it seems your precious pet was nearly devoured.”

  Syann glanced over to find that Helana had appeared at her side. The humans called her daughter the Maiden, an inaccurate description to be sure. The Goddess of the Hunt must have been tracking her. Helana’s light brown hair was tied back in a single braid and she wore a leather jerkin and leggings. Her unicorn horn bow was slung across her back and the girl’s golden sword was on her hip. She was hunting.

  Syann quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and shook back her blonde hair. “It was the great black Tanissuel. I don’t understand why he would even bother with a man, it would take a mammoth to fill his belly. Something is strange here. I think the dragon may have been sent.”

  “Well, that is madness. Who could command a great wyrm? Even we don’t have the power to compel a true dragon,” her daughter said smugly. Helana tapped her cheek with a finger and stared at her. “What I don’t understand is why you are out here in the Waste in the first place, Mother?”

  It was clear her daughter was mocking her. “I was observing the Circle's activity and happened upon the chase.”

  Helana laughed. “Oh, Mother, the Circle? You know that is only another of your excuses. You were following your favorite mortal, you'r just too much of a coward to admit you care for that…creature.”

  The Goddess of Love’s arrogance and catty demeanor were starting to rub off on her girl. “Have you come here to torment me or do you have a purpose?” the blonde goddess asked, gripping the hilt of her silver sword.

  “If you don’t wish to confide in me, Mother, I understand, but don’t lie to yourself. You want the Slayer to serve you as a champion, and in other ways as well, I think.”

  “Shut up, Helana. You're acting like an immature child. You speak with your mouth but it is Valentina’s words that spill out. You have been far too busy fawning over your father and his latest conquest to know what is happening on Saree or inside our own mountain.”

  Helana drew herself up and thrust out her chin. “At least Valintina and Father listen to what I have to say.”

  “Valintina wants you with Tobiah, it’s the only reason that selfish cow caters to your whims. As for your father, he is like a dog. He follows any bitch that’s in heat.”

  Helana frowned. “Your jealousy is showing, Mother, and so is your true nature. Valintina said it would. She is the only one of her siblings to throw off the corruption of your bloodline. She said you are little better than Grandmother, and I am starting to agree.”

  Syann backhanded her daughter across the mouth, knocking the young goddess to the ground. Before Helana could get to her feet, she found her mother’s silver sword on her throat. “You will not speak to me in such
a way.”

  The young goddess’s mouth fell open and her hands began to shake. Syann’s eyes narrowed as she prodded her daughter with the tip of her sword. “Have you forgotten to whom you speak, little one? I am the daughter of death. I would take care how far you push me.” Syann pulled her sword away and grabbed Helana by her collar, yanking the young goddess to her feet. She pulled her close, their noses nearly touching. “I am your mother, Helana. I love you more than anything, but if you provoke me again, you will find I am also my father’s daughter. Do you understand?”

  Helana nodded feverishly. “Now go back and put you lips to Valentina’s perfect ass. I promise, one day you will find it is she that is unworthy of her lineage. Go before you have to witness my true wrath.” Syann pushed the younger goddess back. Helana stumbled a few steps and vanished.

  The Goddess of Justice sighed. She was not as quick to anger as her mother and father, but she could not deny she had inherited her rage from them, as well as a terrible lack of tolerance for insults and slights.

  Helana needed to be put in her place, of that there was no doubt, she just wished she hadn’t let her anger get the better of her. She was not comfortable with her temper, unlike her father who embraced his fury like a long lost lover.

  She looked into the sky, the breeze ruffling her silken hair. Her daughter was right about one thing. Kian had come to mean more to her than she had intended. She would wait and watch the canyon. The mighty Tanissuel hadn’t come so far from his lair to randomly hunt the Synsarian plains. His pursuit of the swordsman was no accident, to be sure, but who could command one of the great dragons and what did it have to do with Kian?