Echoes of a Shattered Age

by R. J. Terrell

  The hearty warrior staggered but fought on, growling away the pain through clenched bloody teeth. Warsong could see that the wound was mortal, as the wounded centaur’s lifeblood flowed from his body. Still he fought, beating back the relentless creatures. He glanced over at Warsong, and the group leader saw death in those eyes. Warsong cried out, trying to fight his way toward his injured comrade, but the dying warrior bellowed and turned his back to the commander, hacking and slashing, batting demons away in every direction with what strength remained to him. The Quentranzi were too much, however, and soon he fell to many more attacks that descended upon him from every direction.

  Warsong felt a coldness settle over him, then rage burned it away. He spotted the green-skinned demon that had struck his friend down, and with a mighty cry, he charged through the demon forces, blasting fiends from his path with strength beyond anything he had known he was capable of. Within seconds, he was upon the green demon. With its double-tipped tail and eagle-like talons extended from four fingers, the fiend thought it would be more than a match for the smaller centaur. It could not have been more wrong.

  The enraged Warsong brought forth his spear and impaled the hunch-backed fiend, lifting it into the air and over his head to slam it to the ground.

  The enraged commander stomped and trampled the fiend with such ferocity that it startled his own allies. After his rage played out, he backed away from the beast and dodged an attack from yet another fiend. He kicked out with his hind legs and knocked the beast away. The green demon with the whip recovered, and its whip lit afire. It stared murderously at the centaur commander. Warsong was prepared to meet it, but at the sight of his other adversaries—recovering despite injuries that would have killed any normal enemy—decided against that action. They were doing nothing more than wasting energy.

  He searched the battleground, but by now, all of the defenders were engaged and surrounded. A heavy sense of despair settled over his shoulders, but he clenched his teeth and fought it back. At the sight of the green fiend approaching him, the one that had killed his friend, Warsong’s rage flared once again. The monster managed to score a few blows, but the enraged warrior seemed immune to any injury.

  Warsong ripped and stabbed the fiend so violently that even the other dark creatures kept their distance. With one last thrust with all his strength, Warsong drove his spear so far through the demon that his hands reached its chest. He reared back on his hind legs, and came forward and butted his head into the creature’s face. He ripped his spear free and saw that this time, the demon seem weakened. Black, tainted blood poured from the wound, and it staggered away.

  Not wasting the time to figure out his sudden fortune, Warsong beat the demon down until it could no longer sustain itself, and it slowly dissipated back to the abyss.

  * * *

  Mira worked to protect Iel while he channeled Daunyanic power through himself and into their newly arrived allies. The charges upon their weapons were temporary, but it would enable them to defeat their demonic foes.

  Not long after he had fallen into concentration, a Behematranzi materialized before them. The four-legged beast looked as if it weighed tons, and Mira was certain that a swat from one of those tree-sized legs would be the end of her. Two wavy horns protruded from the front of its head, and as it opened its yawning maw, she could see four fangs as long as swords.

  The sight of such a beast sent tremors of fear through her body, but she controlled it, grabbed a long stick lying at her feet. She focused on the stick, and it doubled in length and formed into a hissing and spitting Naga serpent. Although she hated to dabble in the dark arts, Iel had insisted that it was necessary for the rare instances when one is faced with a foe that only a similar force could match. She could have changed the stick into a viper with considerably less effort, but a Naga was lethal in a different way. She used it carefully, focusing to ensure that the creature did not turn on her instead.

  The Behematranzi reared to strike, but the Naga was quicker, and struck it several times in the belly. Mira lost track of time as she fought the thing, barely avoiding death, before she and the Naga were finally able to defeat the tank-like beast. Calling up what strength she had left, she stood guard with the magical serpent until Iel awoke from his meditation.

  “It is done,” the guardian finally said, “but not before the centaurs have lost a few of their clan, I fear.”

  Mira fought back the lump forming in her throat. “I heard Warsong’s cry.”

  Iel laid a hand on her shoulder. “Grief must wait.”

  Just then, the guardian noticed the angry Naga she held by the tail, its head waving through the air in search of any would-be enemies. “Well done,” he said.

  * * *

  Hours passed as the battle raged from midday to night, and now dawn was approaching. The four humans had fought valiantly, but time and lack of rest began to wear at them. The enormous titan had fallen to the bite of the mighty Sekimaru, and the struggle had left Akemi unconscious on the ground when her brother reached her. He hurried back toward Takashaniel with her over his shoulder, cutting and dodging attack after attack.

  “Him not last long like dat,” Kenyatta said to Kita.

  “Then let’s give him a little cover,” Kita responded, cutting down yet another of the twisted monsters. He turned, then grunted when Kenyatta tackled him to the ground.

  He heard Kenyatta groaning over his shoulder, and rolled over to see his friend’s eyes clamped shut in a grimace. He looked over Kenyatta’s shoulder and saw a single needle protruding from his back. Several feet away, the demon that Kita had defeated squirmed on the ground, and he saw that it had launched those poisonous needles before it succumbed to its wounds. Kenyatta had saved him from taking a fistful of those things in the back, but one of the cursed needles had found its mark.

  Kenyatta scratched at the wound while struggling to his feet. “Dammit,” Kita growled, draping his friend’s other arm over his shoulder and helping him up. “Now we’ve got to hurry you to the tower.” He looked to the strider for help, but Shinobu was having a particularly rough time with two Zzrt, who slashed and leaped at him such savagery, he didn’t know how the man was still alive.

  Shinobu snarled with dissatisfaction. Despite their savage appearance, they were intelligent and far more lethal than any demon he’d fought so far. It took all of his skill just to keep from being shredded by those sharp claws, or being swatted by one of those thick tails!

  “Shinobu!” he heard Kita yell. “We make for the tower. Akemi is down and Kenyatta is injured.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” the strider yelled back. “But you’ll have to pardon me if I’m not fast to join you!”

  That left Kita in a bind. The samurai had already made off toward the tower, Kenyatta could probably still fight, but not very well, and Shinobu fought two grinning, hissing piles of muscle that seemed not to be effected by any injury the strider dealt.

  * * *

  Grit and Derk fought a green demon Iel had called a corono. They used a simple tactic of spacing themselves in order to position the fiend between them. With brunts, the strategy was always simple brute force. Per Grit’s orders, the clan split, each pairing with another to take a target. They had never fought Quentranzi before and Grit wanted to be sure they were close as a group and could depend on one another to help fight the unpredictable creatures.

  The strategy seemed to be working, as they complemented each other’s movements. As effective as they were, however, the battle had cost them a number of their clan until their weapons had suddenly become effective against the wretched things.

  Mira scanned the once-beautiful fields of Takashaniel, now shrouded in horror. The presence of evil darkened the surroundings, but the worst was the tainted blood of the creatures. One drop of demon blood tainted the land that it fell upon. Everywhere, demons and their adversaries bled, fought and destroyed each other. The apprentice could only look on in despair. Even if they did win this ba
ttle, the cost would be heavy. Would the land, torn and darkened, ever recover?

  She was pulled from her thoughts by the gurgling sound of a prauna, a human-sized Quentranzi with five tiny spikes protruding from its back. It had a small mouth with no visible teeth, but two horns about half a foot in length extending from each side of its jaw and arcing forward. Its green scaly hide was stretched taught over its hunched body, and it looked to Mira that it could turn easily turn aside the thrust of a sword. Its top set of arms were as long as its legs, while its lower arms were about half that length.

  Not taking her eyes off the vile, gurgling creature, she backed away and picked up another rock. The prauna leapt at her and spread its arms. Mira stood her ground as the creature descended upon her, just long enough to charge the rock with explosive energy and hurl it at the demon. She rolled aside just as the rock hit the prauna and exploded. She grabbed a handful of dirt as she rolled back to her feet, and basked in the power of Takashaniel filling her.

  The prauna rubbed at its chest with its smaller arms, more out of irritation than pain, its thick scales having effectively protected it from the projectile.

  “Let’s see how you handle this,” she said as the dirt began to glow in her palm. She squeezed her hand tight until the dirt was somewhat solid, then threw it above the creature’s head. She held her hand out in front of her with her fingers closed, and when it reached the demon, she spread her fingers, and what was left of the glowing dirt burst into a shower of Daunyanic light. The effect was like acid on the demon’s thick hide, and the prauna fell to the ground, twitching and coughing.

  Mira thought the beast finished, but it slowly rose back to its feet, its scaly lips drawing back from yellow teeth. “How?” was all the apprentice was able to say before the abysmal creature charged.

  ***

  Chapter Forty

  Brit watched from of his scrying mirror as the battle ensued. Upon hearing Kabriza’s guttural voice, he half-turned to regard the demon.

  “You chose powerful enemies, Drek,” it mocked. “Not long ago you claimed the ability to defeat them and destroy the tower without the assistance of my brethren. It looks as if we may indeed require your mighty intervention if the battle continues as it does.”

  Brit eyed the creature. One would not think of a demon as well-spoken, even if it is to imply sarcasm. Every other of the sickening creatures he had encountered used more … crude, forms of communication. “You may be correct,” he agreed. “It seems that the prowess of your kind is overrated, rest only a few.” He then pointed to the one human fighting a pair of large, bulky specimens. “That one, I must say, must be very skilled to handle two of those … Zzrt, they are called? But what of the other four?”

  He turned to face the Quentranzi general. “I do not care how powerful these humans are, they are only five, and still only humans. I had expected more from your minions than just tougher versions of the first wave of fodder. They still have yet to reach the tower, and the battle lingers. I am disappointed, Kabriza.”

  The Quentranzi’s face twisted into what looked like a sneer, then straightened to its full height. Brit looked up at the beast, a soft red aura lining his body.

  Kabriza tilted its head to regard the Drek, then let out a shrill, grinding sound that might have been a laugh. “Do I frighten you, Drek?” it taunted.

  Brit knew better. By the demon’s change in posture, he knew that his point was well-received. Although he was sure he could send the creature back to the abyss if it came to that, it would be no easy task. Still, he needed to be sure that the Quentranzi understood that he was up for the challenge.

  “Mighty Brit,” the fiend chuckled. “The weak come in larger numbers. Surely you know that.”

  “Your point?”

  “Why not have fun diminishing their forces,” Kabriza continued, “while waiting to strike the fatal blow? What you have seen is not more than a sample of what I command.”

  Brit could feel his temperature rising. Why did the hellish beast not just send his more powerful minions to the battle and wipe out the defenders after the first wave of lesser demons was defeated? Why the games?

  The demon general stood for a moment as if allowing Brit more time to ponder the matter. “I do admit that I had not expected those half-breeds and runt warriors to show themselves, especially with humans fighting.” Another horrible laughing sound. “As always we have found your world to hold many surprises.”

  Kabriza stepped back a few paces, and the floor trembled. Brit followed the demon general’s gaze to the far end of the room. It was empty save the scrying mirror and themselves. Brit waited to see what it was the unpredictable creature could be looking at. After speaking in the guttural tongue of the abyss, the fiend smugly eyed Brit, who now could see the outlines of two creatures not much taller than himself. The winged demons stepped forward, and with each step, the invisibility that surrounded them seemed to trail off in wisps.

  Kabriza snickered at Brit’s incredulity, but the Drek hardly cared. How could those things have been in his fortress without his knowledge, and how long had they been there?

  * * *

  Hovering next to Zreal, high above the battlefield, Szhegaza looked on in amusement. “The guardian chooses his allies well,” she said. “Five humans, a clan of half-breeds led by the biggest centaur I have ever seen, and a group of short, smelly-looking things that are much stronger than they look.” She smiled.

  “Let’s not forget the magical creatures he’s summoned,” Zreal added.

  Szhegaza didn’t respond, her focus trained on the samurai carrying a woman toward the tower. “It looks like things are turning more in our favor. I’m sure Master Brit will be pleased if we were to destroy them and lead the destruction of the tower ourselves.” If a serpent could smile, it would look like the devious expression on the Zitarian’s face. “Let’s help them die.”

  Zreal eyed her carefully. “I will handle the samurai and the woman. You can deal with those two.” He pointed at the human holding the large silver spear and supporting another over his shoulder.

  Szhegaza looked the scene over and favored him with a grin, then dropped from their altitude, descending to the earth below. Zreal never felt anything other than mistrust for the Zitarian, but he could not dismiss the possibilities of aligning himself with one as capable as Szhegaza. And the potential rewards she spoke of were not untrue. Perhaps he could use her to accomplish his goals, and if she were foolish enough to betray him, he would deal with her then. For the first time since his master’s plan came into reality, Zreal felt he had some control over his part in it. He smiled to himself as he descended toward the samurai.

  * * *

  Shinobu found himself gradually giving ground against the Zzrt, who seemed to have no limit to their endurance and felt no pain. One of these things would have been more than enough, he thought, but two are outside my comfort zone. The strider smiled despite his desperate situation. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and the muscles in his arms burned from constant use and his movements were beginning to slow.

  The larger and larger of the two leaped at him, and he threw himself into a roll under the monster. Instinct nudging the back of his mind, and the strider planted his feet and darted into another roll to the right of the second Zzrt that ripped up four large strips of ground where the strider had been only an instant before. Shinobu jumped out of the roll into a spin and slashed the creature’s arm with three swift cuts while in midair. The beast seemed not to be affected by the injury, regardless of the black blood streaming from its wound.

  Shinobu would have sighed if he didn’t need every ounce of energy. He’d driven the blade down with enough force to sever the thing’s arm. Instead, he’d only dealt it a deep cut, which it ignored and charged him again! He could feel the triple thud in the ground as the hulking beasts loped toward him.

  One leaped at him and he stood his ground, crouching low and striking at the underbelly. The other Zzrt lunged
at him as if to tackle, but the strider, ever agile, came out of the crouch and back-stepped. In that same instant, as the beast flew by, he ducked and rolled forward, avoiding a swipe from the creature he’d just cut across the midsection. He spun out of the roll to face the two monsters who stalked toward him, slower this time. Maybe I did hurt them a little, he thought as he stared into those permanently grinning maws filled with rows of sharp teeth.

  He noticed Kita holding Kenyatta up by the shoulder, undecided whether to help him or get his friend to the tower. He sprinted toward his waiting companions, but was cut off by the smaller of the two Zzrt. He tried to dodge to the left, then right, then left again, but the demon matched his movements so precisely that the strider had to wonder if the thing was reading his mind.

  * * *

  Not far away, the clan of centaurs had been slowly but steadily gaining ground since their weapons had suddenly become effective. Grimhammer suspected it was the tower guardian’s work, which meant it was most likely temporary. They drove as hard as they dared, trying to destroy as many of their enemies as they could before the effects wore off.

  He noticed one human fighting two of those ferocious Zzrt. Unshakable though he was, Grimhammer didn’t want to think of what would become of the human if those things got a hold of him, which from his perspective, seemed like only a matter of time. He also saw two other humans not far off, one of them injured. Clearly the human holding the other wanted to help, but was hesitant to leave his injured friend unguarded.

  The third thing Grimhammer saw was what prompted him to order two of his fastest warriors to follow him toward the humans. A strange-looking creature was gradually descending upon the two humans, as if it were savoring the moment before the kill. As he and the two centaurs at his side raced toward them, Grimhammer remembered Iel mentioning that five humans would be pivotal in the outcome of the battle. The shape that these three were in didn’t offer much hope. And where were the other two?