by Zac Atie
“Quit babbling, will you?” Zaxxarius said. “We’re both too stubborn to bother actually listening to one another. I'm not going to join you.”
“Then you’ll be a captive.” Sheol sighed. “What a complete waste.” Zaxxarius crawled backwards and got ready to fight again. He had to think of something new. Sheol was very agile, using jumping attacks, and gracefully swiping at Zaxxarius with both swords, but he had to have something that could bring him down. Zaxxarius had a decent amount of Magic left. What could it be? He recalled all of his battle so far. Electricity was his main attack, and he damaged many a foe with it. He had only truly fought with an Arcana now, and it proved useful. What was Sheol doing that Zaxxarius wasn’t? At the moment, there was nothing, but then he recalled the enchantment he used on his blades. The smoke-like substance. Was there anything he could use that was like that? He examined his blade. The blade was a blade of magic, something that could only be usable by a magic-user. He struck it with lightning. Sheol watched in amusement. He began experimenting with his sword while keeping an eye on Sheol, but then, his Monolith Recollection kicked in. It was a common thing among the Cazrians, something very common, to enhance your Blade. He smile, then he summoned his black lightning again. Sheol got in a defensive stance, ready to dodge, but he didn’t attack Sheol with it. Instead, he infused it into his blade, and the Yellow light changed to black. He could feel the residue of the black lightning emanating off the blade. “You don’t even know what you’re doing.” Sheol said. And attacked him. That was a mistake. Zaxxarius blocked his blows, but when he struck as a counter attack, the blade extended into a whip-like substance of black lightning, then reverted. It hit Sheol hard, knocking him back. Zaxxarius felt a rush of morale and power, as he attacked again, and again. Sheol could not block it properly. He dodged, but he was also forced to block, and each time it hit him, harder and harder. Sheol was knocked back, until suddenly, Zaxxarius scored a critical hit!
Zaxxarius knocked one of Sheol’s Arcanas out of sight, off of the roof of the tower. “Damn it!” Sheol hissed. “To the void with you!” Sheol attacked Zaxxarius again, forcing him to revert his whip back to his normal Arcana, and blocked another blow. Sheol pushed Zaxxarius back with his superior, adult strength, then shot an Air bolt at him, knocking him back. Afterward, he summoned a black fire in his hand, and threw it at Yula’s body. Zaxxarius rose, slowly, as Yula’s body began to shake violently, and she began to gurgle. “What did you do to her?” Zaxxarius asked.
“She’s a wraith now.” Sheol said. “Survival of the fittest.” Zaxxarius recalled what a Wraith was. A Wraith was a reanimated corpse, made for fighting. Zaxxarius readied himself as Sheol began to summon something in front of him. Yula rose. Her face was a mess, as blood ran down her nose, mouth, and eyes, and her eyes themselves were nothing more than pits of black. She stared at Zaxxarius for a couple of seconds, and grinded her teeth so hard that one cracked. She screamed loudly, and ran towards Zaxxarius, who used his newfound lightning whip to hack off one of her arms, but it didn’t halt her progress. When she got to Zaxxarius she punched him in the face, then took hold of his head and slammed it off the nearby pillar. Zaxxarius rolled away from her, and hit her with lightning. She was dazed for a second, then she continued her assault, but by then, Zaxxarius had readied himself, and hacked at her head. She slumped to the ground, but Zaxxarius still felt at danger. He realised why, as he saw a small rift conjure in front of Sheol, and a strong, unrelenting torrent of water sprayed out at Zaxxarius. Zaxxarius turned and jumped off the tower, and the water shot out over the side of the tower, freezing, as if it were a frozen waterfall. When he froze the ice, Sheol dismantled the rift and examined the icy blocks that he had created. As the icy steam cleared, he saw that Zaxxarius had not been trapped in the icy torrent, so he broke the ice up, back into water. Sheol looked around in Hollow sight. He saw nothing, as Zaxxarius was a master at hiding his Aura. Sheol got in a defensive position, with his back to the portal, waiting for some sign of life from Zaxxarius, but he didn’t see anything. Then, he felt something. The Lightning whip Zaxxarius had used. Sheol turned toward the portal and guarded, but the blow had been charged up and knocked him back. Zaxxarius had attacked from the back of the portal, right through it. You could only enter the portal by going through the front. Zaxxarius jumped through the back and attacked again with the whip, when he realised he was really low of Magic, so he stopped attacking with the whip and attacked normally, with the blade. Sheol was off balance, and through a constant volley of attacks, Zaxxarius eventually had Sheol sinking to his knees, defending from the onslaught. When on his knees, Zaxxarius locked blade with Sheol, and through a struggle of strength, he pushed the Arcana closer and closer to his face. But Zaxxarius didn’t want to kill him. He merely let the Arcana singe off the golden insignia above his right eye, then he brought his knee into his stomach, full force. After that, he batted Sheol’s Arcana away with such force that Sheol’s pendant fell to the ground, and brought his own to Sheol’s throat. He had won. A whirlwind of pride and joy welled up inside Zaxxarius, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Think about this.” Sheol said, at last. He was not the type to beg for his life, as Zaxxarius had gathered. He solemnly believed in what he was fighting for. “You’re averting direct peace. You’re making a mistake. Nobody will ever commit sin again!”
“I thought you said evil was an illusion?” Zaxxarius said. “By your logic, evil is subjective, what we make it to be. So, how do you know this is objectively right? You’re creating slaves. I cannot let you create your own, twisted ideal world. I can’t let you change the lives of people against their will. You’re trying to commit a sin that is worse than what you’re trying to stop!” Zaxxarius hissed.
“Fool talk!” Sheol roared. “I am tired of this. Tired of trying to save everybody, tired of hearing objections, tired of listening to strong fools speak nonsense, and blind themselves to the truth. Enough. Finish this, end my life, so I need not hear anymore of this farce!” Zaxxarius paused.
“Did you kill her?” He asked.
“Who?” Sheol replied.
“My mother.” Zaxxarius said. “Did you kill her?”
“I already told you. Draynar did.” Sheol said.
“I meant the one who looked after me.” Zaxxarius said. “Growing up. She died the same way Torrig killed his victims.”
“Torrig only killed to look for you. He never killed anybody else after Veronica killed him. I don’t know who this woman is of who you speak, but if Torrig had killed anyone after his resurrection, his subordinates would have reported it to me.” Zaxxarius thought back. If Sheol was telling the truth, and he had no reason to lie, then Torrig did not kill his mother. So who did? Perhaps the Godslayer’s legion?
Zaxxarius held his blade steady at his throat... then he took it away. “As I said before. There has been enough death today.”
“You’re making yet another mistake.” Sheol said. “One defeat will not stop me from retrying this goal.” Zaxxarius shot a bolt of air at the Arcana that he had batted away from Sheol, so Sheol could not try and make an attempt to take Zaxxarius down when his back was turned. “Then I’ll stop you again.” Zaxxarius said. “You have family. People that care for you. Taking you away from them would be an injustice, as I have taken away the lives of others.”
“Folly.” Sheol sighed. Zaxxarius gestured him toward the portal.
“Go. I'm closing it soon, so go. And don’t try to come back, or I may just lose it.” Zaxxarius scolded him. Sheol sighed, then smiled slightly, making his way to his feet. “Perhaps next time it will be a death match.” Sheol said. “I’d like that.” And with that, he entered the portal, without looking back.
“Hold it!” A high-pitched female voice shouted from behind, as a wounded Zaxxarius knelt to close the portal. “This is my stop.”
“What?” Zaxxarius asked, as he turned to find Hime walking up to the portal, right next to him.
“Sorry.” Hime said. “I lied to
you. I'm not a former Legionnaire. I still am.” Zaxxarius sighed.
“Of course you are.” He said, making no move to attack her. He felt she wasn’t the type to make an attempt on a wounded boy’s life. “You’re a horrible liar. You’re too innocent.”
“I'm ever so sorry.” Hime said, bowing her head. “I had to. The Legion is my only family.”
“You don’t suit it.” Zaxxarius said. He was panting from the fight, having marks on his arms, body, and one on his cheek.
“What would you have me do?” Hime asked. “Turn my back on them? Fight them?”
“I wouldn’t have you do anything.” Zaxxarius said. “I'm just saying. You don’t seem the type to carry out the more controversial orders.”
“I do what I can...” Hime said.
“Like that Teleportation stuff?” Zaxxarius asked. “Must be useful to have. Why didn’t you just teleport back to Cazria>” Hime forced a weak chuckle.
“I can only teleport a mile or so. If I could teleport to other planets along with people, the Legion would have won by now.”
“I see.” Zaxxarius said. “Well, go on back to your family. Veronica is weak right now. I’d rather she didn’t suffer any longer.” Hime paused for a moment, then walked up to Zaxxarius and hugged him.
“Sorry.” She whispered. “I... I like you. So... I hope you don’t have to get hurt anymore.” Then, she sulked through the portal. Zaxxarius dismantled it. It was far harder than the portal back at the Haven, because this one had been running for many years. It took around ten minutes to tear it down, and eventually, the magic within the portal began to shred away, and Mana was released into the air. The portal shut, and Zaxxarius sighed, and turned back to Veronica. Slowly, the glyphs around Veronica powered down, and Veronica’s face returned to it’s standard, tired look. Then, she fell forward, onto the ground. Zaxxarius raced up to her, and knelt beside her, picking her up in his arms. “Veronica?” Zaxxarius asked. “Veronica? Are you okay?” She was alive, but she was very weak. Veronica slowly opened her eyes. “B...Bastion?” She asked. It felt like an eternity since he heard that name. It made him happy. “Are you okay?” He asked.
“I...” Veronica coughed, then began to breathe heavily. “I...”
“Veronica?” Zaxxarius asked, worry beginning to set.
“B...Bl... Blood.” She croaked. “Blood... Please...”
“Blood?” He asked. He looked around. The only thing here with blood was Yula, and it was all over the floor, not to mention it could be tainted from whatever Sheol had done to it. Before he could say anything else, Veronica was climbing up Zaxxarius, getting to his neck. She struggled, fingers trembling, as she moved aside his collar, then sunk her face into his face. Zaxxarius submitted, as Veronica bit into the skin of his neck. It wasn’t a smooth, sinking of teeth into his flesh like he imagined Dracula would have done, but it was a bite, a gnawing of skin, until blood emerged from the wound. Then, she gorged on the blood, violently sucking down everything she could get. Zaxxarius submitted, and let her take his blood, even though he was sure she was going to kill him. Instead, she stopped, though it was hard for her. “Bastion?” She asked again, looking at him with blood down her chin. “What’s happened to you?”
“I could ask you the same.” He whispered, as he healed his neck with his last remaining magic.
“You’re... stronger. Much stronger...” Veronica said. “This... doesn’t taste normal.”
“It’s a long story.” Zaxxarius said. “And we’re in enemy territory.” Veronica looked around, then back at Zaxxarius. “You saved me... again.” Veronica whispered to him.
“Nah.” Zaxxarius chuckled. “This was my plan since Korreal.”
Chapter Eighteen – The Inquisition of Dusk
Elite Inquisitor Tundra
The Inquisition of Dusk. An order of sworn men and women who have pledged themselves to fight against the evildoers who would corrupt Cazria and it’s Vassal worlds by practicing forbidden arts of magic, such as Necromancy, and having others follow in their stead. This organisation is sibling to the Covenant of Dawn, and although the Covenant has more members, the Inquisition has more wealth, due to the members usually having more members of higher birth than the Covenant. In the olden days, bards used to sing of the Inquisition, which is proof that the Inquisition had been fighting it’s battles since the Pre-Crusade years. The Covenant has been seen to be the more humane and loved of the two organisations, because it opens it’s arms to all, even Warlocks and Forbidden Sorcerers, so that they may walk the path of Dawn and use their magic for good. The Covenant governs it’s own zealots, and they are out of reach of the Inquisition, which makes the two Organisations resentful of each other. Unlike the Covenant, the Inquisition only accepts the innocent, who have never so much as been accused of anything from petty thievery to regicide. The Organisation had taken small part in wars, as their numbers are low and they have their own ways of going about their purpose, which is to investigate and route out their enemies and take them in for questioning. Those who decide that they do not want to be questioned by the Inquisition are given warnings, and if they proceed on not heeding the warnings, they were attacked and killed. The main reason the Inquisition was feared was because of the fact that nobody, not even Overlords, are safe from them, with the exception of those behind the Covenant’s doors. The Inquisition had many levels and ranks, each branching out into special roles to sustain the Inquisition and aid it, going from Engineers, to spies, to missionaries, which was the euphemism for assassin. Each proven child of Dusk was allowed to have an apprentice to follow them and learn their craft. However, the Elite Inquisitors are the ones who undergo the most of the dangerous and important missions, such as missions that would affect world peace, and start wars, such as evil Warlock Overlords, or members of groups who are high in the food chain. Among the ranks of Elite Inquisitors was Tundra, who was sitting at her desk looking at reports of the war in Zolka. The war was more like a rebellion, and Tundra had high hopes that It would soon be quelled. There were far too many Warlocks among the ranks of Domini in Zolka. Tundra herself was a Domini, her proud tentacles going all the way down to her base of her back. Her tentacles were elegant, and she had large piercings through the ends of her tentacles with small bells on them, making sounds whenever they were moved. “No mention of her.” She sighed to herself. “I don't know if that’s good or bad.” She had been asking the offices that dealt with the reports of Warlocks from the Zolkan Rebellion to send her reports of all known Warlocks on the field, and the new identified ones. The biggest target was, of course, Draynar of Clan Yumerga, the Godslayer’s spawn. He had been a problem since before the Rebellion, when he was Sancterus’ ward and apprentice. They could not assassinate him because he was a child, and he had not been seen to have been practicing Necromancy, but he was viewed as an abomination, and constantly watched. It was only 16 years ago, when he killed Overlord Sancterus and his concubine Katrina that he showed his true colours, and ran to Dominion.
An Inquisitor took an Oath of celibacy, and could sire no children during the time of his duty, and they were not allowed to make contact with their family. They swore many oaths, to promise to protect the weak and the world from evil and abominations, and would always stop to help someone in need, and to break these oaths was a dishonour to their name, which was important in Cazria due to the Draconic Testament, and could mean death. These oaths were necessary, because laying a hand on an Inquisitor was a death sentence itself, as it is for members of the Covenant, because laying a hand on an Inquisitor is laying a hand on the Dragon’s wishes. However, there times where they were allowed to go on break to see their family, and do what they liked, but they were few and far between. They could give up their service at any time, and go back to their families, as the inquisition is a harsh order, and rarely do Inquisitors do what they do with their pride intact. Elite Inquisitor Tundra was at a fort called ‘The Aquatic Vigil’, among Inquisitors whose current assignment was to sco
ut the independent islands, and watch for Necromancers who have broken off from the Rebellion in Zolka. Usually, there were only few, but when there were large amounts, they had to call on help from the Independent Law forces. Recently, Draynar himself came and took care of a large amount of deserters unexpectantly, as Tundra had amassed forces to retake the airbase they had stolen. Tundra was loved by the men at the Vigil, some more deeply than others, as she displayed courage and honour not usually seen among Domini, and she had done an excellent job of keeping the Necromancers at bay. There were very few men at the Vigil defending the Zolkan end of the islands, and despite many pleas for more men by Tundra, her feats at defending the Vigil and the islands was always brought up as an excuse, saying the few men they had at the Inquisition were needed elsewhere, and that they had to depend on her skill. The Inquisition was not country specific, as is the Covenant and Sanctum, so they were spread out across the whole world. Tundra was looking through the scattered reports of the Rebellion when a knock came at her door. “Mother Tundra.” A voice came from outside her door.
“What is it?” She replied, not looking up from where she was studying the reports.
“Your new Apprentice has arrived.” The voice replied. Tundra groaned.
“Alright.” She said, stacking her reports and putting them away. “Let him in.” She walked over to the pillar in her room and leaned against it as the door opened. She had forgotten all about the recruit that was supposed to learn from her completely, she didn’t even know his name. She blinked in confusion when the boy was pushed into her room, and the door was shut behind him. “Err.” She almost stuttered. In front of her was a Halfling, well dressed in fine clothing. He had burnt skin around his left eye, and his hair above his eye was also singed. His head was facing the floor, though his eyes were on Tundra. After a few moments of neither of them saying anything, Tundra got up from the pillar and looking in her draw, pulling out the sealed envelope containing the details of her apprentice that she had buried away. She opened it and took a look at what she was dealing with.