The Source

by Dale Broda, Jr

When he came to his knees he held up the artifact he had stolen from the corpse. As magic lurched towards him, a slick green shield sent it tumbling away, burning into those around him. He kept it activated as he came to his knees and drove his dagger into the lower belly of a rather fat man. Rolling away, he snagged what he hoped was a magic bullet.

  Turning towards a charging Dragon Spawn, he pointed the small rod and pushed into it with his mind. A bolt of light blue indented the Dragon Spawn’s chest, lifting it high into the sky, sending it sailing away. Who knew where it would land or if it would live.

  And no time to ponder…

  Moving as fast as he could, he lashed out with a dagger and the small rod he held. As he made his way through, the red ropes continued to poke down, lifting back into the sky with trailing bits of dust forming mini-dust devils behind.

  Very few turned to him now as they focused on Gen. Which was a great help when it came to killing them. Magic still splashed off the shield so he knew some were still trying to take him down. So he had to keep moving. There was no other–

  “ughf!!!” He came to a jerking halt. What the…hells? The shield sputtered away around him. He watched the men around him tilt and drop away as he was lifted into the air. He slid slowly down.

  What…

  He saw a large, barbed spear head lifting into the air, trailing bits of black and blue and wet, ropy rolls. He knew what those were. Oh hells yes…

  Damn…it.

  He grabbed the shaft as he slid down it. His hands kept slipping as he moved slowly down. He could feel it moving through him.

  “Got you, you little man.” He turned to his left, looking into that reptilian eye. A wet line slipping from his mouth as he began to smile. The Dragon Spawn held the spear in the air, he was face to…face…with the thing.

  “Good…job…” He managed to lob a ball of phlegmy spit and blood into that reptilian eye. As it turned in disgust, he snapped his hand out, burying a dagger into its temple. He had the satisfaction of feeling the thick crunch and soft squish as he brained it.

  As it fell, so did he. As he went down, he finally met Gen’s eyes. Blazing red and burning blue now. A tear fell down her cheek as he lost sight of her.

  Her mouth was open but he heard nothing now. Just a low hum. A low…low… hum.

  This is more like it. Now I am coming home. My friends. Now–

  He lost track of his thought as he hit the ground. It didn’t really hurt, but as he watched, the soil darkened quickly as his fluids soaked in.

  Damn. Sorry Gen…

  Darken.

  Ever darker.

  A hint of silver…

  Darkness.

  At last…

  23

  “I’m afraid not sweets.” Mayla’s voice seemed far off.

  “Mayla?” He tried to open his eyes.

  Argh!!

  It was so bright. Bright like the sun. A white sun. He blinked rapidly, letting his eyes adjust. “Where am I?” He was laying on something soft. A strange cold smell filled his nose. It was like…flowers? Freshness? Something pure that was for sure.

  He tried to look around but couldn’t move his head. Gray, transparent shapes leaned over him. Surrounded him. Shrouded and hidden in that dazzling glow that sent beams of light around them.

  “N’t where ye be lad…but where ye passin’ through.” He knew that voice.

  “Grommy?”

  “A’yup.”

  “You sound so far–wait…” he closed his eyes. “So I am dead then.” Thank the Gods. “I never thought–”

  “No my friend. Not dead.” A voice said.

  “Who the f–” He began.

  “You know me, my fellow warrior. Well,” a sickenly charming laugh. “You know me through Gen’s tales at least. I’m Onsho.” He peered around, trying to pinpoint the voice’s shadow.

  “Then I am dead.” He tried to nod. He knew these people were dead. So…how could he not be dead?

  “No, dark warrior. I’m afraid one such as you will never reach thi–” Onsho’s voice cut off with a grunt as if he’d been thumped.

  “Don’t let him know he can never come…” A whispered voice faded. He saw two shapes in an animated discussion. Since all the shapes looked the same he had no idea what was going on. In fact…he couldn’t even count them.

  How did I miss that?

  Oh yeah…the shock of dying probably.

  “You are not quite dead, my sweet.” One of the silhouettes began to darken as it leaned forward. Mayla’s features slowly floated to the surface. As gray as the rest of them. But it was her. He tried reaching for her but still couldn’t move. She reached down and caught his hand.

  He gasped.

  Mayla! My Mayla!

  How long he had dreamed of touching her again. How long he had…were those tears on his cheeks? They were. He didn’t mind. He smiled. “Mayla! We can finally be–” He cut off at the sad shake of her head.

  “Not yet love.” Her voice shook.

  “But–”

  “He will never be able to come–” A voice began.

  “Shut it you simpering moron!” She snarled at someone.

  She tuned back to him. A sad smile there as she ran a finger tip over his lips. Her barely seen eyes ran over him, memorizing every detail. Every wound. Every ache. Her smile widened. A soft purr escaped her.

  “My man. My love. Your scars…so many.” Her voice was very soft.

  He laughed. “You always did like scars.” His small laugh faded as he looked around. His smile fell. He could feel a tug. An ache. Something that had not been there before. He was being pulled…somewhere. “What’s happening?”

  “Ah…my love.” She tried to keep a grip on him. “You are going back.”

  “What!?” He tried to sit up and found he could not. The softness that held him was actually pulling him in. “Fuck that! I’m dead. I earned this! I’m staying.” He tried to fight his way out. It was like falling. No matter how hard you flapped your arms, there was no way to stop. “I’m not going back to that little–”

  He was suddenly held in a grip of iron. Eyes peered at him, shifting reds. The figure spoke, but he could not hear. He watched as the others moved back into the brightness. Only Mayla tried to stay. With a light flick, the shape sent her away.

  “I’ll kill you, you rotten piece of–”

  “Shush.” The tone froze him. Stopped his lips. Stopped his thoughts. He stared defiantly into those shifting eyes. No…not just reds. He knew that color. It was a color that had saved him often enough.

  Gen’s power.

  Was this…this thing…the Source?

  “That is but one of my names.” The light faded around them. Darkness began to spread out in ever expanding ripples from the thing that held him. No. Not held…pushed him. “I am taking you back to Gennifer. She needs you. She has chosen you. I have chosen you. Your darkness.” The red eyes darted around as the black ripples began bouncing back, scrubbing the light from view.

  Its unblinking gaze moved back to catch and hold him. “Your darkness is what we needed. I’ll admit I was as shocked as the Other when she chose you. Yet you can not deny the power that you gave.”

  He tried to struggle as he felt himself falling faster. “I did not gi–”

  His mouth was shut by hard, cold fingers.

  Strange…I get a female vibe from this…thing.

  “You did give, my dark warrior. You did. By helping. By hindering. By being you. She has chosen. She may not understand it yet, but you have also chosen yourself.” A laugh that sounded like burning wood crackling coiled through his mind, filling it with a strange power.

  He could no longer see anything aside from those glowing almond splashes of red. They moved up and down. A nod. “You are perfect. I thought her former companions a much better fit. How little I knew. Mortals…” It trailed off with a shake of its head. “She chose. I chose. You chose. In th–”

  “I did not choose anything!” He sn
apped. “I am just–”

  The finger covered his lips again to shut him up. “You will never go where they are dark warrior. Do you think a blackness as deep as yours may ever go to where they are?”

  He frowned. What? “I don’t–”

  “Your acts were far worse than what any of them committed.”

  “But…warriors…” He stuttered.

  “There are warriors, good and bad. And you? Even I do not know. You are darkness. You are death. Now, you will be her dark weapon. Her dark tool. Ah. Don’t despair dark warrior. In following this path, in helping her, you are working for the greater good. You are working towards the light.” A soft, echoing laugh. “Working your way over piles of dead to obtain your light. If you are strong enough…”

  The impact drove out any thought he had.

  Dark warrior….me? I don’t… how can…

  Thoughts slipped away as the sounds of battle began to fill him.

  Damn.

  24

  A strange shade of red filtered through his eyelids. A dull buzzing filled his ears. Now and again he felt a wetness on him. It almost burned. He could smell…power? Magic? Fire…

  “Get up get up!!” A piping voice yelled in his ear.

  “The well the well!” Another just as annoying voice in his other ear.

  “Get up get up!!” He grunted as a tiny sword jabbed him.

  “…urm…” His mouth felt full of…something.

  “Mule??” Gen’s voice. “How!?” Her voice broke as tears fell on him. “Oh thank the Source…thank the Source!” Suddenly the vibrating power around him winked out. “Thank…the Source….”

  He felt a hot breath on his face. Warm lips touched his own. Held his own. Then a light, warm weight slumped onto him.

  His eyes opened.

  Brilliant red hair was