by Jacob Spadt
"Take this moment to heal...you are not the target of his ire," my blades declared mentally.
My attention diverted for too long. I looked up as a gust of wind buffeted me. The daemon was not prone before me but was now airborne and leaping or flying towards Eryn and the man putting the barrier over the two of them; only the man was now not standing in the protection of his bubble, but had moved forward. I was not sure why he would do this. Perhaps he could not maintain the protection and attack the daemon at the same time. Regardless, he did not remain in place but was now several feet in front of it.
This proved to be his mistake. Energy gathered around him that flowed to his hands as a focus point. Its brilliant light flowed over him like lightning. The color was light blue for a moment. There was a crackling sound heard from my position, even at my distance. Patterns both geometrical and arcane were appearing in the air as he spoke. His words were not audible to me. He had a daemon leaping towards him and his gaze was certainly in the air with a concerned but concentrated look.
I had to act. Seconds remained before the creature would land and kill this man for sure. Looking to the heavens, I felt the remaining energy within me surge through my limbs as if I had been shocked suddenly. With my feet beneath me, in a crouched position, healing energy erupted from deep inside as it rolled with blinding speed to my fingertips. I felt my swords strong in my healed hands. The cold metal was a comfort to my soul, driving back the feeling of incompletion I was experiencing in the moments before when I was nearly dead.
Time slowed. The need to act came into play. My legs flexed and gravity let me go. Whistling past my head, the wind picked up speed. Inside me, the energy waned enough that I knew landing was going to hurt, as I would probably not have it within me to do it gracefully. My eyes looked to my target. From high above, the daemon descended upon the man, and for a moment I was sad for not knowing his name. He bought me the time needed to take action, and I could not protect Eryn at the same time. As I watched helplessly, his valiant effort made the difference. Bards would sing of it.
He was about to die.
XXXVI
Answers
My ascent reached its zenith when the Warlock’s spell erupted from his fingers a moment too late. I did not study any sort of arcane arts but had heard enough from my teacher and my master to know that the longer it takes to cast, the stronger the spell is. The air around me was devoid of energy at the last second before he finished his incantation, but I did not see it make its short journey towards its target. The monstrous body of my nemesis blocked my view of him a second later.
Another barrier appeared shimmering like a force field, but it appeared a moment too late. My angle put me high above so I got an elevated view of a hero’s last stand, but I still could not see all of it. As the barrier exploded from the sheer force of the daemon smashing into it, the sound of shattering glass followed by the flash from the magic being released filled the area.
Energy rippled over the massive body of the daemon prince inducing a raging roar. As soon as the barrier broke, its skin boiled like it fell into a flash cooker. The putrid smell of this floated right up with the steam and smoke that rolled off the creature’s body. I had smelled dead animals rotten for weeks in the woods that smelled better than what had just assaulted my nostrils. In a matter of seconds, a gurgling scream came from below.
Its massive body blocked my view of the event. One could only imagine the horrific death the stranger had just experienced. I cannot guess what it would be like to face such a menace without an edge of some sort. The warlock certainly had an edge, but it proved to not be enough or the effectiveness of his choices had simply failed. He paid with his life to buy me time, or perhaps he thought I was dead or dying. After all, it is not every day someone can recover from a sword through the chest. The wound still hurt, but the ability to disconnect from pain was rather helping.
After seeing me fall and bearing witness to what had just crawled out of the depths of whatever dimension that this portal connected to, he must have thought he was the only hope left. I felt bad for him and would certainly tell his story somehow. He died saving Eryn, also. That sacrificed meant we could live. That thought brought his importance to an even greater level. A heavy price was paid.
Whatever he had just done made a mess of the prince and had his attention just long enough. I must have created a shadow. Suddenly the prince spun and threw his right wing up to try to defend. The downward force added to the swing of both blades. Sparks flew as my left blade passed right through the protruding portion of the poison gland. It broke free, spiraling off to the side.
A surprised look crossed his face as my blade cleaved the gland continuing toward his now exposed head. My right blade caught him full in his left eye and sliced clean though to his huge cheek bone. The fluid burst forward like the inside of egg breaking and spilling out. The left blade caught and bit deep in to his forehead, right between his spine ridged eyebrows. His brow split to the bone, which shattered as the top third of the sword passed right through his frontal lobe. More foul fluids erupted.
My blades resonated with glee.
As I dropped further, the right sword sliced the cheek open to the bone, gouging it deeply and possibly through cleanly in some places. The initial impact knocked him back. Giant tracks ran down his face all the way to the bottom, emerging out from the grotesque, bony jaw. Ichor flew everywhere. He staggered backwards even farther. The hope that he was going to actually drop dead from one lucky shot disappeared as he caught himself and regained his balance.
The ground met me hard. My knees slowed the impact as much as they could, but due to fatigue, my balance was off. Rolling over my right shoulder with a left twisting dive to the creatures’ right side, I found my feet and went immediately to a defensive stance. Ichor hit the ground near me and the soil smoked immediately. Momentum did its job getting me clear of the black rain
My protections reengaged, hoping for a different outcome. Not a moment too soon, his tremendous sword flashed out in a back handed swing. I barely had time to get both blades up. Even in a wounded state, the momentum hit me hard; both of my own swords struck back against me, allowing him to score a hit in my shoulder. Had my defenses not been on, I had no doubts it would have been worse, or over. Still the bite dug in and without hesitation drained some of my shield away.
I focused hard on restoring it, but the energy was not there. My healing still tried to finish repairing the grievous and mortal wound he had inflicted previously; it would not slow down with a second wound. There was no way the shield could take the brunt of his assaults and allow my body to heal in time. I cursed under my breath and hated making a choice of which one was more important. It was as though Father’s voice was in the back of my mind. “Taking resources from one front to reinforce another battle front could cost you the one you take from, but win you the other.”
In my mind, I weighed it out. I wounded his face, weakening him. He was crazed; making his threat level was far superior then before. As I dodged a swing of his sword, trying to find an opening with no avail, the reminder of the lethality came back to me.
I was not in good shape at all.
Several swings felt wasted batting and redirecting his blade away from me when the answer revealed itself. A swinging object is most dangerous at the tip because the speed of the weapon is fastest at the end. If I got in close, he could not swing very effectively, but being close to his claws would be less effective for me, too. His wings, if I stayed in front, would have a harder time hitting me.
Off came the shield; my healing boost kicked in again, giving me speed and strength right away. Still far from full, I thought while diving around the back of him appearing to be reckless. The tail connected once, but only a slap that knocked me off balance, causing a scraped knee. It started to heal right away, but the impact tore the rest of the fabric from the leg. I laughed. It may have not been much protection, but it was something.
It then
dawned on me.
Where were my armored clothes?
How comfortable they were, too! That would have been helpful for this battle. The last time I had seen them was when they created a portal to try to kill me in the hospital. The irony of that moment was not lost on me. Thankfully, my swords had appeared to me when I needed them most.
The huge daemon turned to face me the exact way I had hoped. His blind eye could not track me as I came from his left. As predicted, the left hand led trying to catch me with a back fist to knock me back. He did not know I had hoped he would do this for I was ready. My left blade stuck hard on the side of his wrist and sunk to the hilt. I turned on the energy right as it sunk. The flames burned into the core of the bone, igniting the marrow to a boil.
The right blade came down with precision and severed the hand. He howled. Then he roared so loud…the ground shook, costing me my footing. Around me, the earth acted as though a meteor had struck. Rings of exploding earth shot up around me and out. Dirt, rocks, and other debris hit me everywhere. It got in my mouth but thankfully not my eyes. I coughed and spit while looking for a new angle to attack him. The taste made me sick. The blackened soil was diseased. Filth and vile excretion fell from his body; it destroyed everything it touched. It was not friendly to anything it touched. Now he had me choking on it.
It is hard to explain what I bore witness to just then. His movements became erratic and he staggered like a mechanical object that started and repeatedly stopped, only there were no gears or clockworks visible. Just a spasm-like twitching motion where he would move, then stop for a second, and move again rolled through his body. He was not looking around, nor paying any attention to my tactical position in relation to him.
“We do not trust this!” my blades spoke in but a whisper.
“Nor do I, he is hurt…but not done.”
Logic told me that he was done. With each step, his movement became less coordinated. I caught a glimpse of the one good eye, fully dilated. He was not focusing at all…only shaking. The temptation to move in for the kill was overbearing. Yet instinctually, patience told me to hold off and watch. One does not attack an animal when it is in a death throw. A few moments passed while circling. I watched to confirm that he was done. His balance was starting to become an issue; the motions of his feet became labored. Tipping started to become a factor and I was convinced he was going to drop soon. His body twisted like it was going to fall towards me when I caught his eye again.
It gazed right at me.
Only my speed saved me. I brought my shield up in the blink of an eye, and he lunged in, ending his ruse. The attack was brutally fast. A side long dive was my reaction, but not very graceful one for my strength was not itself. I landed several feet away and rolled to my feet, regaining balance. Immediately something caught my eye.
A large book had toppled from some sort of stand. Rune like patterns adorned the front of it, with several geometric symbols. Metal bindings and clasps were present but not fastened. The material covering it looked very unique and made of some sort of hide like leather. A language I recognized but could not read was on the front. The enormity of this tome was not lost on me for it had to be at least two feet tall, eighteen inches or so across and nearly ten inches thick.
Maybe I should throw it at the daemon I chuckled. I bet that would hurt.
The wind to my left alerted me to duck and in doing so the blade I had been trying to avoid missed, but was dangerously close. It slammed the ground making a small crater that showered me with earth; it sparked and arced with blue energy akin to eldridge fire running the length of its blade. It left wisp-like tendrils of itself in the thin air to dance and slowly dissipate for several moments after the blade passed. This energy was also rolling around on the ground where the blade hit. Bugs and worms deep in the soil died crawling out into the small maelstrom, their lives stolen. Energy ran back up the wicked blade. It even jumped up from the ground to meet the sword’s tip on several occasions before finally dying out.
I could see eldridge fire wrapping itself around the daemon’s arm and making its way to his mighty bicep and shoulder. His skin rejuvenated wherever it touched. The boiled flesh from the magic barrier began to mend and his cheek began to close. I glanced to where the tome was and marked its location. It was time to end this and see to Eryn’s safety.
Both hands tingled in anticipation of the vibrational impact from striking a solid object. The memory of hitting rocks with an aluminum bat came to mind. It hurt my hands each time the bat connected with a rock. Many years of training had taught me how to hold a blade just so I maintained a firm grip, but loosely enough so every strike did not resonate through my hands to cause fatigue and damage. The tingles had died down as I moved to reengage, knowing full well to parry would bring more of the same.
The daemon’s large destroyed eye was not healing yet, so again I engaged on the side with a bad eye and a missing hand was my best strategy. The small stump was starting to protrude and regrow. Ducking the sword, but not the stump, my movement carried me to that same side. He connected hard, buckling my knees. I was face-down in the soil by the time I realized he had connected with my shield but not my actual flesh. It still hurt but prevented him from contacting my body, making me thankful for my gifts.
I rolled to my left towards him and then to my feet. Inside his guard was where I wanted to be. His sword could not get me there. With everything I had, I knelt and leapt straight up under his chin. Both tips of my blades extended at the last moment before impacting the underside of his jaw…meeting his misshaped, gnarled throat. There was only slight resistance in this less protected area as the blades punctured. They passed through the daemonic skin and flesh to find their mark.
They sank to the hilt.
A spasm rocked his huge form as the hilts stopped as far as they could go. The impact drove his chin up in the air as he staggered backwards, releasing his own blade that clambered to the ground a moment later. Several more steps, more off balance, it began to look like a drunken waltz. I held on tightly to my blades and looked over his shoulder in a rush, barely seeing past his now drooping wings. The daemon prince was stumbling towards the portal, still dozens of feet away. Talons tried to grab ahold of me, but could only enclose around the active barrier that had just saved me moments before.
He tried to squeeze and drive his claws into me. I could feel them pressing against the shield in such a way that it began to collapse. The only way that could happen would be if it was overloaded trying to protect me. His footing failed and over we went. I turned my blades with all I had and opened my arms to drag them across and through the inner parts of his throat. The disgusting gout of ichor flung to each side when we hit the ground, and his hand enclosed on me. Several huge claws found their way into my chest. I screamed. The degree of damage did not register yet, but he punctured my torso, taking my air. My own crimson life slowly flowed down his claws.
Light headed, cracked ribs, and bleeding, I managed to push up from his chest enough to kneel. In doing so, I inadvertently drove one of the claws in deeper into my back, causing pain which made me black out. I awoke on my side, fallen from his grasp and lying on one of the nasty leathering wings. My skin was on fire from that acrid powder residing there. It covered a large portion of my body and stuck to me with my own blood, sweat, and other daemonic fluids acquired in the last several minutes.
It burned.
Finding my feet was no small effort, but I managed to roll off the giant bat-like wing. Sickness washed over me and vomit followed. My protection was off, so my focus turned to healing, but there was no response. Everything inside was depleted and a horrible realization hit me. The portal was not only open but large hands reached through, bigger than the one lying on the ground at my feet. Panic washed over me. They tried to grab ahold of the special fabric around the portal but could not secure a hand hold. My head shook in disbelief, having witnessed this today. Uncertainty of whether another battle was possible in my con
dition flooded over me and despair took hold. It was not a matter of training at this point, but sheer will power. My knees gave out and I was down again before any decisions on the matter formed.
Air escaped from my chest. Flowing blood mixed with small air bubbles made it frothy and thick. I saw this kind of wound in the campfire runes so long ago. For a second, I remembered my teacher, bringing a faint smile amidst the chaos of combat. Glancing at the flow running down my skin, the pace was showing signs of slowing, which meant coagulation, but that did not solve drowning in my own blood.
My eyelids felt heavy, so heavy, and I just wanted to sleep. Breathing was laborious. Each draw caused shooting pains. They were the only thing keeping me conscious. Those large clawed hands continued reaching though and trying to gain access to my world. I was the only one that could stand toe to toe with whatever wanted through. My mind could not fathom the irony that getting this far only to fail was the plan, and I definitely believed in plans.
My imagination raced. How many sons of Lucifer could there possible be? I prayed only one. Wait… prayer. I looked up and offered a blessing to God, and although speech was not possible at the time, the words ever present in my mind were simply, “Thank you.” Slight warmth encapsulated me for a moment...perhaps it was a blessing of healing, but it left a moment later. I felt cold due to fatigue and blood loss. Laughter wracked me with more pain. My clothes were gone...naked as my birthday.
Talk about being humble.
A few moments passed. The hands did not find a grip on the portal and a displeasured voice come from beyond, which chilled me to the bones. The language was guttural and very much like that of those before. It said one phrase.