by JD Franx
“Cassie, run, now!” Kael yelled, noticing her fear had her frozen in one spot. “Run, hide, and don’t let him find you. Now!” he barked even louder. With a sigh of relief, he watched her turn and run, vanishing out the door and into the ruins.
“I have no interest in her anyway...” Kael smiled as Sythrnax trailed off.
“I know,” Kael said. “I wasn’t protecting her from you, but from me. You know why I can pass through Hell untouched, Sythrnax?”
“You can’t, you just...”
“Because the demons of Hell obey my call.” Though he had learned how to shut the voices out, once he relaxed his hold, Kael’s mind was bombarded by offers to help.
“You bluff, dosa. Demons can no longer walk Talohna’s surface.” Kael’s smile lessened at the creature’s ignorance and he called out inside his head to the one demon he knew would help.
“Tusk, just you. Help me, and his soul is yours.” His answer was immediate.
“The offered soul will suffice. We have a deal, dark wizard.”
Kael’s blade-filled right hand shot out, and he chuckled as the air to the left of Sythrnax rippled and tore. “You’re a fraud, Sythrnax. You know less about my kind than I do. This demon proves it.” A thunderous crack of power rocked the chamber as a rent widened and the demon who helped Kael in Dasal pushed his way through into Talohna’s reality with the help of Kael’s magic. Roaring like a big cat, the demon towered over Sythrnax by several feet, outweighing him by three hundred pounds.
“Incredible,” Sythrnax gasped, glancing back and forth from Kael to the demon. “In fifteen thousand years, no DeathWizard has ever pulled a Demon Lord across, and you, a gods-cursed newborn, crack the fabric of the Ninth Hell with no training. Garz’x, old friend, you’ve been well, I assume?”
“Sythrnax,” the demon growled. “With Salotan gone, the Nine Hells are very well.”
“Good. I’m glad I could help you get rid of your ArchDemon.” The demon bowed its head. Kael began to panic, wondering if his plan was about to backfire.
Sythrnax stared at Kael, his mask pulled up by the smile underneath. “You see, Kael, I do know. I know every single thing there is to know about you. I just didn’t imagine you’d ever have the power to pull one low-hell demon through, let alone the Lord of the Nine Hells...”
“Lucky me,” Kael said, his voice riddled with sarcasm. He could still feel Garz’x tethered to his magic. “Too bad your demon buddy is here for me.”
“Oh, he’s here for you all right, Kael. Garz’x, you know what I need done. Take Kael, cut his throat, and when he dies, drag his soul to Hell.” Kael laughed. Sythrnax frowned as the demon joined in Kael’s laughter.
“Funny thing, Sythrnax,” Kael said, his laughter fading. “My death magic and that demon are controlled by my strength of will...”
“That takes centuries to develop, newborn...”
“Normally perhaps, but not after six months of torture at the hands of the Dead Sisters,” Kael barked. “Garz’x, kill him.”
“Sorry, old one.” The massive demon laughed, jumping at Sythrnax and snatching at him. Sythrnax’s staff rang through the chamber as it scraped against the demon’s claws. Not hesitating, Kael disappeared among a cloud of black shadows, reappearing long enough to pass by Sythrnax as his left Vai’Karth sliced deep into both the creature’s hamstrings.
“Enough, Garz’x, stop!” Sythrnax screamed. Raising his left hand, Sythrnax stared at Kael as the demon closed, again following only Kael’s demands. A black energy pulsed from the stone within his glove. “You lose, Kael. When you can’t control a demon, you banish it.” Laughing, Sythrnax hissed, “Aytto Asai.”
The fabric of reality inside the chamber tore again, opening much faster than when Kael had done it. Garz’x roared with fury, lashing out with his long, spiked tail as Sythrnax’s magic tried sucking the demon back into Hell. A tail spine sunk deep into Sythrnax’s thigh, snapping off as the demon tumbled into the hell-rift. A second crack echoed through the chamber as the tear in reality winked from existence. The expense of magic and the embedded demon’s spine dropped Sythrnax to his knees. Kael attacked immediately, crossing his blades as he stepped from swirls of black. Sythrnax laughed, slamming the butt of his staff into the ground, throwing up a wall of ice. Both Kael’s Vai’Karth cut deep into the frozen barrier, but stopped short of his enemy.
Anger radiated through Kael as he screamed the words for more magic, fury and determination increased the power of his spell significantly.
“Hrinda Bal.” Black and purple molten fire jumped from both his hands, running along his blades before ripping into the ice wall. Chunks of ice hissed and exploded outward as the dark energy quickly ate its way past the wall and shot through the far side, catching Sythrnax along his left hip. He grunted as Kael poured more power into his magic. Hatred fuelled the results. The flames hissed and spit, sparked and jumped, splashing into the walls around the chamber. The stone in Sythrnax’s glove pulsed again, forcing Kael’s magic to slide away, but not before burning a gouge two feet long from Sythrnax’s hip and back.
Sythrnax cursed, limping away. Kael followed, stalking him as his enemy circled to the left, coming to a stop on the design at the centre of the Maltese cross. “You’re stronger than I thought, Kael. You have no idea what I could teach you. My people invented the VosHain, the magical language...” Close enough now, Kael swung his left blade. Sythrnax was a moment too slow to block with his staff, and Kael’s blade cut deep into his right shoulder.
“VosHain was created by the Ancients,” Kael said, his voice emotionless. “You lie.”
“Yes, Kael. It was created by the Ancients. Think! Use your small dosa mind!” Kael stopped, taking a couple steps back, trying to process what Sythrnax said.
He frowned. “You’re not an Ancient, you’re a fucking disease...” Kael vanished in a cloud of black. He materialized behind Sythrnax, spinning both his reaper-blades upwards and driving them into Sythrnax’s back.
Kael smiled, savouring the feeling that only comes with revenge fulfilled as Sythrnax’s body slumped into death on the end of his blades. Laughter echoed around the chamber and Kael realized he could not move a single inch. A light clapping came from behind him and Sythrnax’s voice followed, muddling Kael’s mind.
“Very, very, good, newborn.” Still unable to move, Kael caught movement in his peripheral vision as Sythrnax stepped into his sight.
Staring at Sythrnax’s body suspended from his blades, Kael realized his mistake. “God damn illusion. I was never fighting you.”
Sythrnax laughed. “No, not really. I have heard about your skill with illusion, Kael. Waltzing right past all of Lircang’s people in Dasal with their prized slave and they never even saw her. I almost hoped you would see through mine. It’s... disappointing.”
“Illusions aren’t solid, Sythrnax.”
“True. This is Ancient illusion magic and super-imposing soul possession, Kael. Real magic, not the bastardized nonsense wizards flick around in today’s age. Technically, you were fighting me, but her body is so limited compared to mine—it is why you killed me... or her.” His glove pulsed as he laughed. “Here, I’m sure you’d like to know who you killed?”
Kael stared in horror as Sythrnax’s body suspended on his weapons shook with light tremors. The robe, the armour, all vanished, leaving a sparsely-dressed young woman impaled on his blades.
“Jesus Christ, Sythrnax,” Kael cried out, guilt already eating at his soul. “She can’t be fifteen years old. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” he taunted. “You killed her... You know, you really are a slow learner when it comes to magic. She sacrificed herself, willingly, for the betterment of our cause, our plan. Yet you’re more worried about the dead girl hanging from your blades than the fact you can’t move a muscle.” As his eyes shifted to the floor under him, Kael finally understood that ignoring the symbol under his feet was another grievous mistake.
“Kin Atoll,
” Sythrnax barked, and the Vai’Karth were torn from Kael’s grip, slicing through the young girl’s body and snapping several fingers on both of his hands. The blades clunked as they stuck to the seal on the floor. When he realized he still couldn’t move, Kael understood that he had walked right into whatever Sythrnax had planned, again. He struggled against what held him. The seal on the floor under him pulsed. The magical trap exerted more force to hold him still.
“I am surprised you can’t yet read the script written on the tablets here, Kael. It would have told you all you needed to know. They were carved by your people and their guardians for your future kind, many, many thousands of years ago,” he smirked. “Perhaps you would like me to tell you what they say? Fill in a little of your past you so desperately want to know? What do you say? It seems we have some time to spare before the ArchWizard Zirakus gets here to kill you.” Sythrnax broke out laughing once more.
“Either tell me what you want or kill me Sythrnax. Your big flapping mouth is starting to hurt my ears,” Kael said, frowning.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Kael,” he said, holding his hands out to his side. “I have no intention of killing you at all. In fact, I can’t kill you. That seal you’re standing on will open when your blood is spilled by a person other than my race. A betrayer to the Lesser races of Talohna. Though I must say, there are a handful of people entering the ruins right now who would be more than willing to do it.”
“Why?” Kael asked, struggling against the magical bindings of the seal. “What does it gain you to have me killed here? Some Dwarven weapon to help you with your conquest of the world? If you want this world so bad, then take it, I won’t stop you. There have only been two people here who have shown me any kind of humanity and one died at your witch’s hands. You can burn this world for all I care. Just let me take Cassie and leave,” he begged.
For the first time during either meeting, Kael quickly realized he had struck a weak spot in Sythrnax, though it was unintentional. Sythrnax flew into a rage. Unable to move, Kael could only watch as Sythrnax kicked the dead girl’s body aside and grabbed his throat. Sythrnax’s face twitched under his mask.
“You insignificant little pest, typical of you dosa. Do you think I have waited all these thousands of years just to conquer these two polluted kingdoms? My home lies to the north of the Blood Kingdoms, in the Ancient Kingdom. When your cursed ancestor tore the continents apart, she freed me from my prison, but also cut me off from my homeland. You stand on one of the many seals that will allow my people to return to Talohna and reclaim the power that has been kept from us for over fifteen thousand years.”
Sythrnax’s fury increased as he shook Kael repeatedly, almost crushing his throat as the seal held him firm. “You cannot begin to fathom how meaningless these petty kingdoms are to me. They are merely a very small means to an end. Four of the seals are here, and the countries supply me with warriors to do what needs to be done, but that is all. The races of these kingdoms cannot comprehend what this is all about. We will be free and we will take back what was stolen from us so long ago, I promise you that. Your blood will start it all.” His anger spent, he released Kael’s throat and stood back.
Coughing and gagging from lack of air, Kael could not believe what he was hearing. Everything he had been told of the DeathWizards made no sense against what Sythrnax had just said. As his breath returned, Kael hoped to get some answers from the creature whose face he had never even seen.
“Then if I’m gonna die,” Kael rasped, “tell me why. What the hell can my blood do for you?” He watched the hooded and cloaked being for signs of more anger, but it never came.
“You really want to know?”
“Of course I want to know, you asshole. If I’m gonna die for some big cause at the hands of some creature who refuses to show me his face, then you owe me that much.”
“I owe you nothing, pest, but I will show you and tell you anyway. After I prepare the seal. Jasala Vyshaan might have destroyed the world, but she reinforced the locks on this seal for five thousand more years. Curse her dosa soul.”
Sythrnax bent over and slid the key he retrieved from Vexa into the top of the Animus Seal and turned the locking mechanism a full turn. The intricately designed grooves within the seal widened and spun, creating a spiral set of grooves that led to the centre of the seal.
“Done. For the better, I guess,” he said. Standing, he reached up inside his hood and pulled his mask to the side. Kael gasped, surprised by the beautiful face underneath. Sythrnax’s high cheek bones and complexion were flawless, his smooth skin more like that of a young child’s. He smiled, showing a hint of sharp, serrated teeth behind thin lips. Even so, his blazing purple eyes still dominated his features. That quickly changed as he lowered his hood. He had no hair, instead dozens of long, silver-scaled appendages writhed their way free as if they were alive. Offset rows of the tentacles covered his head and thousands of small silver scales layered each one, shining as if actually made from silver metal.
Kael nodded slightly at the recognition that these tentacles, for lack of a better word, were what stopped his first attack against the illusion Sythrnax had cast on the young girl.
“Happy?” Sythrnax asked, as the scaled appendages slid back underneath his rising hood. He replaced the mask and stared hard at Kael. “The show is over. Now to the telling. Thirteen thousand years ago, there was a great war-”
“The DemonKind War?” Kael interrupted.
“DemonKind War?” Sythrnax asked, and laughed as if he had never heard of something so absurd. “The foolishness you speak of didn’t even happen. Thirteen thousand years and a land cataclysm, along with the stupidity of your wizards, has a way of losing history. What did happen was a real war, one that involved every single race of the time. A magical war that we, in fact, tried everything in our power to avoid.”
“Fact?” Kael huffed. “A fact is nothing more than the distorted reality of the one who experienced it, Sythrnax. I’ve seen what you consider to be fact.” Sythrnax smacked Kael on the side of his head. With no give in the magic holding him still, the solid strike hurt like hell. “You should stick to listening, Kael, philosophy doesn’t suit you. This great war was one that we were winning, until your kind came along. The dreaded Kai’Sar, the DeathWizards. Creatures who revel in the misery of death. We know you were created, made. Some kind of perversion of desperate, twisted magic. I know that you live a very, very, long time and that every offspring you breed is birthed like you were, during the Black Sun and with magical powers drawn from life and death. Eventually, there were six of you at one time. Those six each opened an Animus Seal, one of which you stand on right now. These six seals were all opened at the same time and every one of them was situated on or below a battlefield where my people were fighting. Your ancestors used their very life-force to pull my kind through the seal, and then they sacrificed their souls to close each one, locking my people away forever. After I was freed by Jasala, I learned that the few who remained were hunted and killed. It was the day the Ancients died.” Kael shook with terror as the words sunk in.
“Jesus, my kind killed the Ancients,” Kael whispered in a low voice.
“In a way, you did, yes. The good thing is that the dimension they... we... were sent to has a stasis effect on living flesh. When Jasala destroyed Talohna as it was five thousand years ago, it released me from this very seal. It has taken me five thousand years to figure out exactly what happened, what had happened after our disappearance, but more importantly, how to open it again and free the rest of the Ancients, my people. You see, once you are dead and my people are free, this land will become what it once was, a great and prosperous land for all. And a land free of the abominations that are your kind.”
Sythrnax was talking about events during the time of the Ancients. A time people had told Kael they knew little about. The people of Talohna revered the Ancients, some countries even worshipped them and the Fae more than they did Talohna’s gods. It
was common belief that the Ancients helped the mortal races learn about magic and were thought to be fair in a world that prospered for all people, regardless of race.
Until they disappeared.
If Kael did not escape from the clutches of the magical trap that held him, he was going to die in order to serve a cause he knew nothing about, for a people who would be worshipped like gods upon their return.
And his executioners were only hours away.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“To save the life of a Northman is to earn the favour of his or her entire clan. The Kreeda Oath is taken deadly serious by anyone born on Kastalborg Island. Even if it means their own death, a Northman will honour this oath until his or her last day.”
High King Garnath Stormshield, 883 PC
APPROACH TO KAZZADOR CITY
Ember sat in the back of the wagon as it shook and rocked its way down the trail. Yrlissa helped her secure Kasik’s kreeda properly and then braided the rest of her hair tightly so it stayed out of her eyes. Yrlissa had quickly filled her in on what had happened. Ember first woke on the seventh morning after taking the burrow worm poison from Kasik’s body, and another three-and-a-half days had passed before she woke again, feeling only marginally better, but not as tired. It had taken almost three more days for her to wake for longer than what it took to eat a bite of food. Now, still weak, she continued riding in the wagon as she absent-mindedly played with Kasik’s kreeda.
Too many thoughts rolled around in her head. Aravae had wasted no time introducing herself to Ember and explaining that she and Giddeon were Kael’s birth parents. Giddeon’s behaviour sickened Ember all the more with every word Aravae spoke. She came to admire the Elvehn woman, and her heart ached for Kael when she thought of the mother he should have had compared to the one Giddeon had left him with.
Yrlissa had also quickly brought her up to date about her real recovery when Giddeon and the others were out of earshot. The fact that the necromancer king and queen from DormaSai had saved her life and offered their help was puzzling. “Practitioners of death” Giddeon had called them. She scoffed; he had once called Kael a “prophesied force of death”. The so-called death practitioners saved her life, which was far more than Giddeon had ever done. Even so, she couldn’t understand why those so closely linked to death would save her—a Fae dedicated to preserving life, but she did not doubt for a single second that they also had their own agenda. It seemed everyone in Talohna did. Only Yrlissa had been more honest with her than not. Being able to trust Yrlissa had helped get her this far.