“REMEMBER!” shouted Mastro Jeskun. “No blades left clean!”
And as soon as he gave out his battle cry, another mass of visreh burst into the hall. Massive amounts of dirt and rocks accompanied them as the creatures broke off into every direction possible. This time, after the horde of visreh had come in, one of Mahlevenieh’s guards soon followed; he was one of the three that Vohro had confronted the night Luca was born, the white-haired man. With his sword drawn, he led the charge of the corrupt creatures against the Davinians.
“Kill them all!” the white-haired guard said. “Cover them up with dirt! Eat them alive! Bring the shadow upon them!” Mastros Gehwen and Jeskun took notice of this man and began making their way towards him.
This second wave of visreh was more massive in size than the first that had invaded the hall. The Davinians were outnumbered more than ten to one, and it was too much for some of them to handle. It is true that the Davinian is capable of fighting a number of men at once, but these weren’t men; they were creatures of shadow driven by a relentless hate for the virtuous.
One after the other, a great number of the lesser Davinians fell to the visrehs’ insatiable hunger. As soon as this happened, other Davinians began to lose confidence, and terror struck throughout their nerves. Then, many started to lose their way and focus, and the easier it was for the overwhelming horde of visreh to overpower them.
The Davinians were beginning to lose the battle. But the older Davinians, witnessing the destruction of their lesser and younger compatriots, were stricken with anger, and it was an anger that did not lead to vengeance, for that type of anger would surely bring about their doom. It was much more of an anger brought about from a diminishing sense of true justice.
All at once, the higher blades took it upon themselves to even out the score, and instead of fighting two or three visreh at any given moment, they settled for eight to ten, and without hesitation, they let their arms swing with all of their blades. And there was a frenzy of hacked limbs coming from every corner of the hall as the Davinians fought with gallantry and efficacy.
Siel sat with Vohro at his side, and he knew it was time to unleash his former pupil, who had kept his cool for so long that he was on the brink of exploding with violence. Siel gestured to Vohro to let loose his blades, and the deaf warrior fulfilled his master’s wishes.
Calmly, Vohro approached the first mass of visreh, who numbered about fifty, and he got their attention by taking one of the dead visreh’s head and igniting it with a torch and then throwing it towards the group of creatures. They turned to him, hungering for Davinian flesh, rushing him as one solid group.
Vohro unsheathed his Rasplendur and opened up his eyes wide in order to see everything that encompassed him. The right side of the mass seems to be advancing faster than the rest. I should start with them.
As the first ten or twenty reached him, he administered a swift authority upon the visreh, and he slashed them one by one before they could even lunge and attack him. Yet, he did not kill them, only cut them furiously while pushing the creatures to his rear. If I move to the middle, I can see better the other half that comes towards me. If I attack the second half, I can keep the first half at bay with the dismemberment of their brothers!
Vohro took out his Prossesur with his left hand, and with great speed, he took on the second half of visreh by using both blades in a quick side-to-side motion, beheading every single visreh that came towards him. He did this without pause or mistake, and the heads of the fallen creatures started to forcefully fly out behind him and hit the first half of visreh like a multitude of massive rocks being launched at the enemy. With so many heads coming at them, it was difficult for the first half of the creatures to double back and attack Vohro. He kept them at bay like he said he would, and after he finished with the second half of the creatures, he turned to the first half, who seemed fed up with being slapped in the face by a shower of dismembered heads. Vohro raised his blades to them. Now, we shall end it.
As fast as he took care of the first half, he ended the lives of the second. This was Vohro, father of Vehru and guardian of the throne of Daví. After all the visreh were dead, he made his way back to the Alta and stood guard by his side.
Gehwen and Jeskun approached the front of the hall, where the white-haired leader of the pack stood calling out the orders to the visreh, but before reaching the guard, the mastros heard sounds of heavy steps coming towards the entrance to the hall. The Davinians began to fear the origins of these steps, for some suspected the worst, especially Luca, who stood near the rear of the hall with his eyes glued to the front doors. The lady beast had arrived.
Mahlevenieh ducked under the doors and made herself visible for all to see. Her bulging veins and dark hair amplified her veracity. “Creatures!” she yelled.
Every visreh in the hall stopped and turned to the domineering presence. Luca stared at the beast, who days earlier claimed to be his kin. Even the Davinians froze in attention.
“I can’t be family to that,” Luca whispered. “A beast like that can have no kin.”
Logrec, adorned in his glimmering armor, revealed himself from behind the beast. He carried his lance dressed in steel and ivory, and his armor glistened whenever a certain shadow or light would hit it at an angle.
“The boy!” Jeskun said as he became more cautious of these two new visitors. “He is the life of the creatures. Kill him and the creatures will die!”
“How do you know?” Gehwen said.
“It is true!” yelled Siel from his throne. “This I know for sure.”
Following Siel’s words, two Davinian students dashed out of the mass of warriors and ran straight at the boy with swords drawn and a brave battle cry.
“No, don’t be foolish!” Jeskun said as he tried to stop them.
Logrec took his lance and raised it up high, and with frightening speed, he launched it at the Davinians, mortally wounding the brave boys.
“Nephew, you always hit your mark,” Mahlevenieh said.
“It’s all in the throw, okay,” Logrec said with his mouth covered by that hideous display of slides, which as he said his words, switched from one slide to the next, ending on a picture of an elated smile, as if he had just won a prize.
“Creatures!” screamed Mahlevenieh once again. “No flesh tastes as sweet as the wisest of them all. Kill the master servant on the throne!”
With that war cry, the creatures turned their heads to Siel and set their bearings on him and him alone. The duty of all Davinians now was to prevent the death of their Servantu Alta, and immediately all of them moved to the rear of the hall, forming one huge mass of warriors. If the foul creatures wanted to reach the Alta, they would have to get through them first. But this did not deter the creatures, for they rushed the Davinians regardless of how many blades awaited them. It was a bloody collision between man and creature, vice and virtue.
Jeskun turned to Gehwen. “Mastro, go with the pack,” he said. “Keep your eyes on the beast-woman. Protect the lesser ones from her hands. I’ll deal with the white-haired one.”
Gehwen grasped arms with Jeskun and retreated into the mass of Davinians fighting for their lives. Mahlevenieh progressed down the hall, swatting and killing Davinians with one swoop of her arms. Bodies were thrown in all directions, crashing into stone and windows.
Logrec followed behind her with his blade drawn. He grabbed a visreh by the arm and pulled him close. “Go and retrieve my lance, creature.” The visreh sped off as ordered.
Jeskun walked up to the white-haired guard at the front of the hall, who had already noticed that Jeskun had taken an interest in him and had prepared himself for battle. “You know, Davinian, that you can never kill me,” the guard said as he ran his fingers down the length of his sword.
“If I knew that, would I have come upon you?” Jeskun said, with his Rasplendur drawn.
“Yes, you are of the sort to do so,” the white-haired guard said.
“Yes, you’re right,�
� Jeskun said. “I’ll give you this. I am of that sort. But, nevertheless, I will defeat you.”
“Defeat is of no interest to me,” the guard said. “You can defeat me, but you cannot kill me.” And with that, the guard lunged at Jeskun.
Jeskun raised his Rasplendur to block the attack and did so without effort, but he also felt a strange power stemming from the man, something otherworldly. And the guard came at him again, striking Jeskun at all angles, and once more, Jeskun deflected the slashes with skill, and again he felt a certain power behind the attacks, as if he were being pounded on by someone four times the size of his opponent.
Regardless, he could not waste thoughts on trivialities as these amid combat. He knew that at least he could deflect the blows, no matter how powerful they were. And if he could deflect the blows, he could counter them as well. So he waited.
The guard came at Jeskun with a downward slash, and the mastro met the blade with his own at the top of the guard’s swing, and Jeskun let the guard’s blade bring both of the blades down to the floor. Jeskun let his Rasplendur slide up the guard’s blade to the hilt, and with some force, Jeskun bumped the guard’s hilt up, leaving him with enough room to take a small swing back and slash up with his blade, allowing him to make contact with the guard’s hand.
And with only a second of a warning, the guard’s hand, which held the blade, was cut off and thrown into the air, blade and all. The white-haired menace fell to his knees, and Jeskun quickly followed his cut with another cross that made contact with the guard’s neck, beheading the guard with ease.
The man’s head flew into the air but quickly was caught—by the man's left hand! The guard placed the dismembered head back on his body like he was screwing it back on, and he gave Jeskun the most horrific of smiles. This prompted the mastro to thrust his Rasplendur into the man’s chest, and with all his strength, Jeskun used his blade to lift the guard in the air.
“Be gone, you filth!” screamed Jeskun as he held the unnatural thing up in the air with his Rasplendur.
In response to Jeskun, the man took his hand, and grabbing his own head by the hair, detached it from his body once more. With his head in his hand, he took it and placed his head right in front of Jeskun’s terrified soul, only inches away. “I am sovereign!” the man said. “You cannot defeat US!”
Disgusted, Jeskun took his Rasplendur out of the man’s body, and in that same motion, he cut the man’s head in two, and followed by cutting both of his arms and legs, ending with a fierce cut to the torso, which split the body in half. The dismembered body fell to the floor, and once it fell, Jeskun saw what seemed to be a shadowed mass leaving the body with sounds of laughter and annoyance. It came and went like a sudden breath. Jeskun was beside himself and fell to the floor, exhausted.
In the meantime, Siel sat on his throne, pondering what had just happened to the white-haired guard. Something deep inside Siel spoke to him, and he recognized a power unimaginable in their enemy. Siel was to keep this unseen force as far as possible from his students. Perhaps they could not win this battle.
“Vohro, prepare yourself to confront the beast-woman,” Siel said. “You, Jeskun and Gehwen must deal with her now. Do this, master of blades.” Vohro’s eyes lit up, and the mastro prepared for the fight of his life.
Sword from the Sky Page 26