by B. A. Scott
“What?” Dareic asked. “Goddesses bedding their own creations?”
“They have caused much strife, but three have been slain through the ages.”
“If they’re so terrible, why have I never heard of ‘em?” Dareic asked.
“Of course you have,” Torren said. “Surely, you know the stories? ‘Trials of the Cursed Cave,’ The Lair of Bleeding Hearts,’ ‘Lavenicus Lore and the Seductress of Lava Lagoon?”
“Bedtime stories,” said Dareic. “Damn scary ones too. You’re telling me they’re real?”
“Many have died in pursuit of their demise,” Torren assured him. “Thankfully, the last remaining Zelvanyan rarely venture from their realms—the Corren’dai, the Centurian Isles, the Crystal Fjords.”
“How did the other demons survive—Daro’s demons?” Gabrel asked.
“A small pocket in the north, resilient to the last, refused to perish. To stomp them out, the Goddesses created a merciless blight—a lifeless landscape that we now call the Wastelands—the final stroke to burn their bones to dust. One can only assume the remaining Primen, Blessed and Fated delved underground to withstand its brutality. There, they remained for centuries—a dying, forsaken people, imprisoned by the elements—the last children of the Infernal Trine.”
“And then Lord Daro was exiled,” Gabrel spoke.
“And conjecture began,” said Torren. “All the same, he became their master, their leader, their savior. With his magic, they thrived. And if this invasion is any indication, Daro promised them deliverance—that he would take back the world that once was theirs. He would give them their retribution, and in so doing, take his own.”
Torren paused, letting the information sink in.
“Is it all for vengeance, you asked?” he addressed Gabrel’s earlier question. “For bloodlust? You see, Gabrel Caladen, it is so much more. Lord Daro’s earliest atrocities may very well be exceeded by those to come. He is, as he always has been, the Erygians’ greatest shame.”
“Their shame?” asked Gabrel. “Why? Is Lord Daro Erygian?”
“He’s not just Erygian. He’s an Enchan—”
Before the ambassador could finish his sentence, a terrible screeching sounded from high in the treetops. The brothers looked up to see a dark figure plummeting toward the ground. It smashed into the fire, just as they leapt clear of it.
When they looked to see what had fallen, fear filled their eyes.
“Holy shit!” said Dareic. “Is that a Primen?!”
Table of Contents
Chapter 6: Trendell
Seconds later, Treäbu landed from the treetops, poised for attack.
At once, the ambassadors and soldiers drew their weapons, and encircled the Primen. It rolled from the fire, struggling to breathe, bearing a fresh gash across its chest. By the way it attempted to stable itself, Gabrel inferred the fall had inflicted additional unseen injury.
“Keep your distance,” Treäbu warned the others. “It was in the trees—spying on you. I told you this was a bad place to camp.”
“Are there others, Treäbu?” Torren asked.
“It was alone,” said the Skaelar.
Torren stepped toward the demon and put his sword to its throat. “Where is your regiment?” he asked.
“Athro kai mena chenteh li Daro nigh,” it responded in the Erygian tongue.
“What did he say?” asked Gabrel.
“It said,” Torren began, then thought for a moment, deciding whether or not he should communicate the exact translation of the Primen’s words, “disconcerting things.” He leaned in closer, and asked again, “Where is your regiment?! WHERE ARE THEY?!”
A sinister grin spread across the dark creature’s face. It bent its knees slightly and lowered its head, though still glaring, unblinking at Torren.
“Everywhere!” it answered, then leapt for the ambassador, bearing teeth, and screaming a foul cry. But before it could do any harm, swords were instantly upon it. The Primen’s head leapt from its body, and landed with a soft thud on the forest floor, then rolled to Gabrel’s feet.
Awestruck, Gabrel looked to his brothers. Dareic appeared shocked as well, but Kaven’s face overflowed with rage, as though he’d wanted to be the one to strike down the creature. He’d drawn his sword, and his shaking hand gripped it so tightly, Gabrel thought he might be trying to strangle the hilt.
“Douse the fire,” Torren hastily ordered his men. “Bury this body in the bush. You three,” he looked to Gabrel, Kaven and Dareic, “the road is being watched. We’re leaving at once.”
We’ll be exhausted, Gabrel thought to himself as the group rode hard, wary and suspicious of the ever-darkening forest. The whole time, Treäbu kept perfect pace with the racing horses, astonishing Gabrel, Kaven and Dareic.
After two days of hard travel and very little rest, Blackwood Forest began to thin.
“We’re close,” Torren told the others. “Trendell draws near.”
“Is there any chance they have the Tears of Life there?” Gabrel asked. “My father said it’s a trading town. I wouldn’t have to go all the way to Allestron.”
“Bluntly speaking, it’d be about as likely as finding an ice diamond in a pile of shit,” Torren said, to Dareic’s amusement. “But I suppose there’s always a chance.”
Suddenly, the thought of Adelyne’s condition weighed even heavier on Gabrel’s mind. “I wonder how she’s doing,” he expressed to Kaven.
“She’ll hold on,” Kaven replied comfortingly. “Adelyne’s strong.”
“But the thought of her suffering,” Gabrel said. “I know it’s getting worse. It has to be.”
“Yeah,” was all Kaven could say.
Not a moment later, Treäbu stopped dead in his tracks.
“What is it?” Ralindur asked him.
Treäbu stood frozen, sniffing the air. “There’s smoke on the wind,” he said, then sprinted to the forest’s edge. The others chased after him and emerged from the tree line into a vast landscape of tall grass. It looked to Gabrel like waves in the ocean as gusts of wind blew from the north, and though the sky was overcast, a few openings in the clouds allowed for rays of sunlight to illuminate the land before him.
In addition to the beautiful scenery, Gabrel expected to see Trendell’s distant rooftops, but instead, he only bore witness to giant heaps of burned rubble.
“Good god,” Torren uttered.
“Your Trendell is in ashes,” Treäbu said.
Gabrel strained his vision, sighting dark figures walking amongst the devastation, and winged demons perched upon the mounds of charred debris.
“The town is overrun with demons,” said Treäbu. “We must move before they see us.”
“We’ll circle around to the south,” Torren said. “Dismount and keep quiet. Quickly now!”
Fear gripped Gabrel’s heart. “Lord Spark,” he whispered as they led their horses through the tall grasses. “If Daro’s forces have already taken Trendell—”
“Shhh!” came the command for silence from the soldiers nearest him. Gabrel obliged, and didn’t say another word. After a few more steps, he noticed Treäbu’s ears perk at the sound of a distant snarl.
Everyone froze. Even the horses seemed uneasy, and were on the very verge of spooking. Treäbu pointed in the direction of the town, where not 50 paces away, Gabrel caught glimpses of a lone Primen through the grass, with its back turned. The demon bit violently into a bloodied carcass, tearing flesh from bone as it jerked its head upwards.
At the sight of its prey—a mangled Human body—Dareic pulled an arrow from his quiver, and brought it to his bow, drawing the bowstring back behind his ear.
“Dareic, no!” Gabrel urged quietly.
“I’m a hell of a shot, Gabe,” Dareic argued. “I can get it.”
“Hold your fire!” Torren demanded through his teeth.
Dareic looked from the ambassador, back to the Primen.
“Don’t you dare!” Gabrel warned him.
“I
’ll shoot it through the heart.” Dareic said, quickly aiming his shot. But before he could loose his arrow, something bolted past him.
Kaven drew his sword and kicked his horse into a dead sprint toward the Primen.
“What the-? Kaven, no!” Gabrel belted, but it was too late. Kaven was wild-eyed and filled with abounding rage.
Instantly, the Primen whipped its head toward the group, alerted by Kaven’s presence, and armed itself with a nearby spear, shrieking so loudly that Gabrel could not help but cringe.
With a roar of emotional anguish, Kaven struck. But his sword found no flesh. The Primen embedded its spear deep in Kaven’s horse, causing the steed to stumble, then crash to the ground, throwing Kaven from its saddle.
“Kaven!” Gabrel yelled. He mounted his horse and took off toward his brother.
Kaven, lying on his back, tried to regain control of his senses. Only when he finally stabled his sight did he realize his sword had fallen too far from his grasp. The Primen pounced on him, shrieking, scratching, digging its claws into his flesh. Just as it was about to sink its teeth into Kaven’s neck, the creature spasmed, drooled something gruesome, then fell to the ground. Kaven sat up, and saw Dareic’s arrow sticking out of its back. He grabbed his sword, and proceeded to mutilate the Primen’s carcass, sending sprays of blackened blood into the air. And with every strike, Kaven poured out curses and tears.
Not a moment later, Gabrel arrived, followed closely by a handful of soldiers.
“Bloody hell, Kaven!” he said, shocked by his brother’s actions. He dismounted and rushed to Kaven’s side, noticing that the Primen’s corpse was nothing more than a heap of guts and bones. “What were you thinking?”
“I wanted it to die,” Kaven said numbly. “They took her from me. They ripped her from this world. From my arms. I’ll kill them all. Every last one of them!”
“Well I don’t think this one’s—” Gabrel started to respond, when deep roars resonated from within the decimated town. Everyone looked and saw a mass of Primen and Blessed bolting toward them as Fated leapt into the skies. “Oh no,” Gabrel gasped. “Kaven, what have you done?!”
“You fool!” Torren yelled. “You’ve given us away! Get on your horses. Now!”
Gabrel pulled Kaven up to his own steed, and charged with the group across the fields. He looked toward the town, noticing the mass of demons change direction to cut them off. He cursed and returned his focus forward. But before the group had ridden far, a swarm of thirty Fated Ones appeared in the skies, converging over the riders’ path.
“Fated!” Torren yelled, bringing his horse to a stop. For a moment, the Fated Ones hovered in the air above the group, withholding attack. They were dark, as though burned, and their spaded tails moved excitedly. Then, one of them spoke in a raspy voice that pained Gabrel’s ears to bear.
“Faithless,” it said, followed by a bellowing scream.
Torren spoke to the others, but his eyes did not leave the Fated. “There will be no outrunning this,” he said. “Ready your swords and stay together.”
Then, just as the Primen and Blessed from the town reached the group, the flying creatures dove with spears in hand, soaring downward like dark angels.
The group received the charging demons like a herd of bulls and were instantly scattered by the impact. Dareic fired an arrow at one of the diving Fated, then leapt from his horse to avoid a spear thrown straight for his heart. He landed amidst the mayhem of soldiers and demons battling one another.
Gabrel dismounted to find himself standing before a giant Blessed One. It struck with the force of a falling tree, then roared in defiance as Gabrel dodged and blocked its attacks, again and again. When one of its blows knocked Gabrel to the ground, Kaven appeared behind the creature, and cut it down from behind.
“Thanks!” Gabrel yelled, then moved back to back with Kaven, fending off an onslaught of deadly attackers. Around them, Fated lifted soldiers into the air, while the Primen and Blessed unleashed their unrelenting brutality. Gabrel heard Ralindur choke on a Primen’s dagger, then saw two Blessed on either side of a soldier grab his arms, and with a great heaving, rip them from his body.
He turned to see not just the other soldiers being slaughtered, one by one, but the horses as well. Primen and Blessed bit violently into the animals’ flesh, eliminating all chances of escape.
At the sound of a horrible shriek, Gabrel looked upward, where he glimpsed a Human body falling from the sky, screaming as it sped toward the ground. It landed only a few paces from he and Kaven. Gabrel saw the man’s face—a horrified expression on a head that had been twisted awkwardly out of place.
“Torren,” Gabrel uttered as his stomach turned. The ambassador lay still.
At that moment, he realized that only he, his brothers, Treäbu and a few soldiers were the only members of their party still standing. The creatures around them inched in slowly, and the Fated above flapped their bat-like wings provokingly.
“Come together!” said the Skaelar. Gabrel looked into the eyes of one of the Primen, as the group tightened their circle. It glared right back at him, snarling and baring a mouthful of sharp teeth. The creature disturbed him deeply, and as Gabrel glanced to the others around him, he feared he had only seconds to live.
“I honestly thought we would’ve made it a little farther than this,” Gabrel told Kaven.
“Aye,” Kaven said. “I’m sorry, Gabrel. This was my fault. I came to protect you, but I think I just got you killed.”
“Let’s just take as many of these bastards down with us as we can,” said Dareic. “Well, Treäbu,” he told the Skaelar, “I think we’re going to die before you can save my life.”
With delight, the Primen nearest Gabrel prepared to strike. But before it could lunge at him, a spear from above caught it in the chest. Then, several other spears rained down, piercing and puncturing the circle of demon flesh.
A birdlike call sounded on the air. Every face jolted to the skies, where they saw ten winged creatures diving through the air. They were feathered, Gabrel noticed, having the forms of giant, muscular men, but with the heads of hawks, and hands and feet with large talons.
“The Aeroli!” Treäbu yelled. The Fated Ones screamed malevolently as the Aeroli engaged them, instantly cutting their numbers in half. On the ground, the brothers and Treäbu were barely able to defend themselves against their attackers. Gabrel received a slice across his arm, and another across his thigh that brought him to one knee. Then, a Primen pounced at him, taking him to the ground, where his head smashed into a large, blunt stone.
But before the creature could bury its blade into Gabrel’s heart, a spear plunged into the top of its head as an Aerolus landed behind it. The remaining demons scattered and retreated back toward Trendell as the Aeroli landed in a protective circle around the group.
Treäbu, bloodied and bruised, fell to his knees, panting. Kaven and Dareic leaned against each other for support. Gabrel tried to stand, stumbling to keep his balance, but ultimately dropped his sword, and fell to the ground beside the kneeling Skaelar. His vision grew fuzzy, and his eyelids became heavy. He looked up, and saw one of the Aeroli towering over him, a single ray of light illuminating the side of the great beast.
“Gabrel!’ Kaven said, rushing to his brother’s side. But Gabrel’s vision went dark, and he lost the will to sustain his consciousness.
Table of Contents
Chapter 7: Ambassadors
The doors to Vexen’s chambers opened as the Dark Princess whirled upon a cushioned stool to see her mother pass through them.
“Hello, Mother,” she said casually, then returned her gaze to the wide mirror before her, and brought an earring to her ear. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“The Borean prisoners have escaped, Vexen. Again.”
Vexen’s heart skipped a beat. “I heard,” she fastened the earring, then reached for another.
“How do you feel about that?” Velusia asked as she took a brus
h from the table, and ran it through Vexen’s hair.
“The guards should have bound them with more than just metal,” Vexen said. “And personally, Mother,” she added, “I think we should have killed them when we had the chance.” She finished donning her other earring, then lifted a beautiful black necklace with red fire gems from the table, and handed it to her mother.
“Do you really?” Velusia asked suspiciously. “Because I’ve had the strangest notion ever since I learned of their escape.”
“What notion is that?” Vexen asked disinterestedly.
“That they had help,” Velusia said.
“Help?”
“It baffles me how they managed to escape our dungeons twice now. And unfortunately, we haven’t been able to track them down this time.”
“We’ll find them, Mother,” Vexen said assuredly. “Give it a day—two at most—and they’ll be back here, racked and ready for torture.”
“You’re probably right,” said Velusia. She hung the necklace around Vexen’s neck, then leaned down, and with her mouth only an inch away from her daughter’s ear, whispered, “But if I find you’re behind the Boreans’ escape in any way, daughter,” she pulled the necklace uncomfortably tight around Vexen’s neck, just above her Satian Collar, “I’ll cut your head off with my own sword, and hang your body by its entrails from the palace wall.”
Vexen tensed as her mother clasped the necklace.
The attention of both mother and daughter turned to the chamber doors as a sand-covered Fated burst into the room, and knelt.
“What business is this?!” Velusia scolded the creature. “That you enter so impertinently?!”
“Forgive me, my Queen,” it said, drawing deep breaths. “But I bring news of our Father.”
“What you have to say had better merit your intrusion.”
“My Queen Velusia,” it said, “our Lord has taken the Adorcenn Tower. He asks you to join him there.”
Velusia let a soft growl of victory escape her mouth. “Then we shall go to him.”