by Dante King
Ben picked up the mountain ogre’s scimitar, feeling the heft of it in his hand. He'd never wielded a sword before, but he was ready to take whatever advantage he could get in the coming battle. As he swung the blade to get a feel for it, something was triggered in his memory.
His vision went dark, similar to the way it had when he'd touched the crystal ball in the hotel room. Strange, he didn’t think this old scimitar was an ancient relic. In his mind’s eye he distinctly saw a young man training with a scimitar just like this one.
A master stood before him, scrutinizing his technique. Then the man glanced up, directly into his eyes.
“Forgotten Ruler, you have returned. Seek me out, and I shall teach you the ways of the sword.”
Then the vision ceased, and his sight returned to normal.
The sword felt a little lighter and more familiar in his hand. Ben swung it and found that he could instinctively handle it a little more easily than before. He wasn’t proficient by any means, but it seemed like he had received some small amount of infused knowledge from that vision.
“What just happened?” Melody asked, standing in front of me. “Your face went blank for a moment.”
“I think I had a vision,” Ben said. “I saw a man who told me he could teach me the ways of the sword. He addressed me as the Forgotten Ruler.”
Ben held out the scimitar in front of me. “This isn’t one of those ancient relics, is it?”
Melody shook her head. “I doubt that very much. This is a common sword.”
“Then how could it have given me a vision?
“This world contains old masters of legend,” Melody said. “Many of them had their spirits sealed away when the Forgotten Ruler was defeated. The commanders of the usurper’s armies could not kill them, but all the same they were too powerful to not be…dealt with.”
“You think the man I saw was one of these masters?” Ben asked.
Melody shrugged. “He recognized you as the Forgotten Ruler. It must have been one of the legendary masters. Archmage Kamila said it was possible that these masters would seek you out.”
“Where is he? How was he able to speak to me?”
“His spirit is sealed in a plane of existence parallel to our own. You will have to find the vessel his soul has been bound to. Only with that vessel will you be able to bring him back.”
Ben lifted the scimitar in his hand. “Well, I could definitely use some training. We’ll have to seek this vessel out soon. In the meantime, I’ll have to make do with the knowledge I have.”
“You will not be alone, Benjamin.” Melody placed a hand on his arm. “I shall accompany you this time and take part in the fight.”
“Are you sure?” He asked. Her lightning spell could be formidable, but he didn’t want her placing herself in unnecessary danger. It was an instinctive reaction on his part. He’d only met the girl, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t developing a soft spot for her.
Melody looked up into his eyes. “I have confidence in you, Benjamin. You are the Forgotten Ruler. Together we will prevail in this fight.”
He met her gaze with his own. She was right—they’d made a good team so far.
They continued to gaze steadily into one another’s eyes. Somehow the knowledge that they were about to face the possibility of death together again made her presence all the sweeter to him.
Melody’s lips were parted, and Ben felt her breath, hot on his cheek. He put a hand to the side of her neck, brushing her vivid purple hair aside.
Their lips touched, and they kissed passionately.
The last light faded, and they were plunged into total darkness as they stepped apart and turned to face the village.
Together, Benjamin and Melody set off between the trees to rescue the nymphs from these mountain ogres.
Chapter Five
Before they left for the village, Ben took out a notepad and pen from his rucksack and scrawled a quick diagram of the layout. When they ventured into the village, he didn’t want to suddenly forget what it looked like. He tore off the page and slipped it into his pocket for easy reference.
The dead sentry’s scimitar was in Ben’s right hand, the blade catching the light of the moon above. Ben had no idea if he’d be able to actually use the thing effectively if he needed to, but it made him feel better to have something that he could use to defend himself.
Ben and Melody approached the village in silence, stalking from tree to tree. Melody was a hell of a lot better at maintaining cover and silence than Ben was. Stealth was something else she’d need to teach him down the road. For now, however, they had bigger fish to fry.
The silvery trees, outlined in the moonlight, cast their claw-like branches in stark silhouettes against the night sky. An owl hooted in the distance. The only other sound was the occasional snatches of song and harsh speech coming from the campfire in the village.
Tension rose inside Ben with anticipation of the coming battle. He allowed the pent-up nervousness to flow through him without resisting it. His thoughts were clear, and he enjoyed the cocktail of fear and excitement that pulsed through his veins.
He’d experienced this sensation before when planning a raid playing World of Warcraft, but this was the real thing. Ben and Melody were actually going to fight barbarians, facing death in the process.
They stopped behind the collapsed pile of stones where Ben had first waited to attack the sentry, around a half-hour earlier. But he stopped short as he realized there was another mountain ogre there now. Had the other barbarians noticed what had happened to the first guy? Nothing at the fire suggested the barbarians were more panicked than they had been.
The new sentry paced back and forth, muttering and cursing in his guttural language. Ben couldn’t make out the words, but the sentry seemed annoyed, even for a mountain ogre. The barbarian kicked the dirt with each step and spat occasionally at the wall of the hut beside him. Like the previous sentry, this one also carried a scimitar. Every now and then, he’d swipe the scimitar through the air, cutting through imaginary enemies. Ben swallowed hard as he watched, imagining what that blade could do if the barbarian managed to catch him in the belly with it.
Ben watched, trying to figure out what was going on. Since this sentry hadn’t sounded the alarm, Ben suspected that the sentry he’d taken out must have been a known slacker. Maybe he was in the habit of taking off during sentry duty, and this new guard was pissed that he was having to cover for the first sentry.
At least that meant Ben and Melody hadn’t been discovered yet. It also meant they’d have to take out this sentry too, and preferably quietly. Ben didn’t want to cast Drain too much before reaching the center of the camp. He needed all the mana he had in order to cause the maximum possible pandemonium when they entered the village.
Ben gave Melody a signal with his left hand, and they retreated up the hillside a short distance.
“Can you snipe that sentry with your wand?” he whispered, once he was sure they were out of earshot.
Melody cocked her head, puzzled.
“Can you strike him and kill him without drawing attention?” Ben clarified.
Melody shook her head. “The light and noise of my wand will be noticed for miles in this dark and quiet woods.”
He nodded. “Yeah, good call.” He was starting to see that magic and spells were not the solution to every problem.
Light and noise discipline was something he’d remembered hearing about in military documentaries. Soldiers couldn’t just go firing their most powerful weapons in the middle of the night, even when it might seem like the simplest solution for the situation. Going undetected was just as important. The rules of warfare were evidently not so different in this world. Stealth skill was what he needed—some quiet movement and a quick blade to the sentry’s throat would solve their dilemma.
The mountain ogre’s stature was just as great as that of the other one Ben had killed. And with that nasty looking scimitar, combat in close quarters simply w
asn’t an option. Even with a scimitar of his own, Ben didn’t fancy having his first attempt at combat with these weapons against a creature twice his bodyweight—not when he’d almost been killed during his previous attempt. He wasn’t anywhere near perfect enough to never make mistakes, but he never made the same mistake twice.
Ben would have to use Drain. But this time, he needed to be much more careful. He couldn’t risk the sentry attacking him, or worse, calling out to the other ogres.
Melody held her wand ready. “If anything goes wrong, I will attack him,” she whispered.
“Even if it draws the others’ attention?” Ben asked. “There’s no way they wouldn’t notice that spell.”
Melody nodded, her expression resolved. “That would still be better than letting you die at that ogre’s hands.”
“Thanks. And good call.” It was reassuring knowing she had his back. More than that, there was something sexy about it, too. Such strength enhanced Melody’s beauty, in his humble opinion. She could really handle herself. But thoughts like that were the last thing that needed to be on his mind.
They turned and crept back down to our cover behind the stones. With some hesitation, Ben set down the scimitar behind the rocks. He needed both hands free to perform this spell as quickly as possible. If it came to blows, he didn’t think the scimitar would help him that much. And he could always take this guy’s weapon after he’d taken the bastard down.
Ben focused his energy and clenched his fists, holding his Drain spell at the ready. He could see the sentry’s strands from here, but they were faint in color. He assumed that was because he was out of range.
The green of the thug’s physical strength appeared in Ben’s mind’s eye, and he focused on it until the color was deeper and more opaque. Then he waited until the sentry turned to face away from Ben.
When Ben was ready, he slipped over the stone barrier and hurried forward. Speed was more important than stealth now. Each crashing of his foot on the forest floor caused his stomach to tighten, but he put that out of his mind as best he could.
He closed the distance within seconds. He was seven feet away when the sentry’s strands all turned a more vibrant hue. Ben was in range, and he was ready.
The sentry turned, his scimitar brandished and ready to be used. He opened his mouth and tensed his body, and Ben could only assume this meant he’d spotted Ben’s shadowy figure in the dark.
The ogre clasped his other hand onto the hilt of the scimitar and took a step forward. No doubt he was ready to kill whatever he saw.
Ben opened his fists and pulled with all his might on the other man’s green physical strand. Ben’s mouth filled with a metallic flavor as he sucked in all his opponent’s strength. The yell forming in the sentry’s mouth quickly turned into a faint gargle as Ben stole away even the strength the mountain ogre would need to use his vocal cords.
The sentry slumped forward onto his knees. His wide eyes, gleaming in the moonlight, lost focus, became duller. The mountain ogre’s body fell forward into a heap, a dull thud sounding out in the night air. Ben rushed forward, catching his opponent’s scimitar by the back of the blade to stop it from clanging on the dirt.
The giant’s body shriveled up like dried fruit in the sun, the skin bunching into desiccated wrinkles, and the muscles losing all their shape. Once Ben was sure the life force had all been drained from the mountain ogre’s body, he deactivated his spell.
The now-familiar sensation of new energy throbbing through his veins was intoxicating. Ben turned to Melody as she approached. He used his Drain spell again to send some of the strength he had acquired to her. He could sense right away that she only received a portion of the energy he’d sent her, but some was better than none. From his experience so far, the strength he had taken ought to last up to half an hour if they didn’t use it up in attacks.
Ben and Melody entered the village, creeping carefully past each hut and checking it for occupants. It wouldn’t do to have ogres sneaking up on them from behind and surrounding them.
The huts were made of primitive planks that appeared to be roughly hacked out, judging by the uneven surface of the wood. Some huts had simple openings for windows, through which they could look and check for occupants. Others had hides draped over the windows, forcing Ben and Melody to listen closely first to check for any sound, over the raucous singing still coming from the campfire in the middle of the village. They were a major contrast to the rest of the area—the surrounding stone ruins appeared even more ancient compared to the slapped-together huts.
By now, they were close enough to smell the charred odor of overcooked meat over the campfire. Ben could hear animated discussion from the ogres, though he didn’t understand a single word. He wasn’t sure whether Melody understood the mountain ogres’s language, but now wasn’t the time to ask her. None of it sounded particularly agitated, so Ben was confident they hadn’t yet been discovered.
They finally reached the last hut separating us from the campfire. They hadn’t discovered any other ogres, so these men were either all around the fire, or hiding in huts on the other side of the clearing.
The door to this hut was open, and a window on the other side faced out onto the clearing. Perfect. Ben and Melody would be able to hide in here and get the lay of the land before attacking.
The hut was a bit larger than the others. A second room opened to the side of this one. Ben could see from the firelight on the walls that a window opened from that room onto the clearing as well.
Ben and Melody crept into the main room. He made sure to hold the scimitar steady as he stooped through the narrow doorway. He didn’t want the blade to clang on anything and give their position away.
The firelight from outside flickered against the walls and ceiling, casting wild shadows. The noise of drunken revelry filtered in from outside. Ben was confident that he and Melody wouldn’t be noticed if they were careful.
The inside of the hut was total chaos. A table in the middle had leftover bones, which had begun to stink, strewn over the surface. One of two chairs was smashed. Ben wondered if the mountain ogres were so barbaric that they didn’t even understand the idea of “chairs.”
Some of the bones looked distinctly like they had belonged to some humanoid creatures. The skulls were rounded like those of an ape or a human. There were two larger skulls and one smaller one.
Ben did his best to not consider the implications of what he was looking at. But the thoughts came to mind nonetheless. These bones weren’t that old. Bits of hair and flesh still stuck to them. Had the mountain ogres killed these people and then left their bones to rot in their own homes? Or had another group of marauders done it before them? The scene was grisly and disgusting, and all Ben could think about was exacting quick and brutal judgement for whoever was responsible.
Regardless, his next step had to be annihilating these bloodthirsty motherfuckers. Perhaps Melody and him could manage some vengeance for these poor people at the same time.
On another side table, he could see several items that appeared to be far too well-crafted to come from the mountain ogres themselves. Combs, a small mirror, and several dishes suggested that these inhabitants must have taken pride in their appearance and lived in modest comfort, at least for a pre-modern community.
As Ben looked around, he couldn’t help but wonder who they were. Judging by the amenities, they’d been far more civilized than the mountain ogres. He could feel layers of history in this place now. His own empire had crumbled eons before, far enough back in the past for the great stone monuments to collapse into dust.
These ruins had then been inhabited by a seemingly simple but hard-working people, with modest but comfortable homes and possessions. Now, they in turn had been slaughtered, possibly by the mountain ogres or by any number of other barbaric tribes—or even monsters.
There was no sign of weapons in the hut. Perhaps these people hadn’t even been able to defend themselves. Ben’s blood boiled at the thought, t
he idea of them being helplessly slaughtered making him even more determined to exact some brutal justice.
Slowly and carefully, Ben moved over to the window, Melody following close behind. He laid the scimitar on the ground in front of him within easy reach. They crouched under the windowsill and raised themselves up just enough to see over the sill into the clearing beyond.
Eight hulking mountain ogres sat on stones like the ones from the ruins, around the fire, their forms made even larger by the light of the flickering flames against the darkness behind them. Ben felt like Bilbo Baggins, observing the giant figures of the mountain ogres around their campfire—except he wouldn’t be doing any burgling tonight.
Each one of the ogres would have passed for a giant back on Earth. Although they were sitting down, they all had to be at least seven feet tall. Every one of them had a lot of meat on his bones, and it was mostly muscle.
They were very hairy, for humanoids at least, with a thick covering over every visible patch of skin, including most of their faces. Several of them had dyed patterns in the hair of their faces and arms, mostly garish looking skulls and monster faces.
One of the figures was much larger than the others. His shoulders were broader, his arms thicker, his forehead larger and more pronounced, making his whole visage more imposing. He sat on a larger stone than the others, directly opposite the hut where Melody and Ben were hiding.
The others sat a slight distance apart from the larger mountain ogre. From the way they looked at him as they spoke, seemingly for approval, it was clear that his status was higher than theirs. Most of the time, they only received grunts in reply from him.
The lead barbarian—the alpha—wore a necklace of sharp teeth, teeth that seemed longer than was possible for a wolf or a bear. What sort of monster might he have killed to acquire those?
A spear rested on the ground beside the stone the alpha was sitting upon, though it resembled more a young tree trunk—which it possibly was. It was nearly half a foot in diameter, with a stone the size of a regular man’s head bound to the end of it, scraped into a sharpened point. The chipped stone surface glowed a ruddy red in the firelight. From the wear on the stone, the spear had likely seen plenty of use.