Rise of the Deathbringer

by Mark Boutros

  He held her arm. ‘Slower, Boofa. What’s wrong?’ He wiped his eyes and noticed she was crying and shaking.

  ‘Outside Pa. Outside!’

  Oaf stepped outside and his heart thumped so hard it could’ve exploded.

  Demonic, spike-winged feathery evil faced him, and had an arm around Quizmal’s throat.

  Blood ran down Quizmal’s leg.

  Anger, fear and desperation flooded through Oaf’s body. ‘Let my boy go!’ He ran towards Ryza.

  Ryza pecked the top of Quizmal’s head and he cried. ‘Stop!’ Ryza commanded Oaf.

  ‘Please don’t hurt him.’ Oaf raised his arms and dropped to his knees. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Gold.’ Ryza held a claw to Quizmal’s neck.

  ‘Yes. I’ll give you everything we have,’ Oaf said.

  Fools poked their heads out of windows. Oaf lifted his hands towards them to make sure they didn’t get involved.

  ‘And food, clothes. And err… What else do you have?’ Ryza asked.

  ‘We have books.’

  ‘Pah! Give me gold, clothes and some meat.’

  Oaf nodded. ‘We only have bread and berries.’

  ‘Ugh. Give me whatever food you have.’

  ‘Okay. Just please…’ Oaf looked into his son’s eyes. ‘It’s okay, Quizmal, you’re going to be okay,’ he said to convince himself. He didn’t want to leave his son, but he had to get the items.

  He ran inside, knocked over a chair, fumbled for bread and dropped it. Every moment was crucial, but he couldn’t stop his body from shaking or the tears from falling. He grabbed everything he needed and then returned. He showed Ryza the items and placed them in a sack. ‘Here, now please let my boy go.’

  ‘Throw me the sack,’ she said.

  Oaf tossed the sack at Ryza’s feet. ‘Now give me my boy, please.’

  Ryza grabbed the sack with her free hand. She shot a sinister smile at Oaf that froze his heart.

  Quizmal’s eyes widened. ‘Pa?’

  ‘I think I’ll hold on to him for a while.’ Ryza wrapped both arms around Quizmal, spread her wings and took off.

  ‘No!’ Oaf ran towards them, jumped and grabbed Ryza’s leg, but she raked a talon down his right eye, blinding him and breaking free.

  ‘Quizmal!’ Oaf ran to the edge of the mountain but knew he’d never catch them. Blood met the tears running down his cheek.

  His son disappeared into the distance.

  Unanswered Questions

  Karl lay in bed with Princess Sabrinia in his arms, her gown wrapped around her. A blue orb of fire on her bedside stool cast a flickering light on her brown hair and kind face.

  ‘Twenty-two years of birth tomorrow.’ She looked up at him. Her eyes had a glow that always seemed new. ‘Are you excited?’ she asked.

  ‘I think so…’ He smiled, but ageing made him think of his life and what he wanted. That same feeling had tormented him for two years. He reached for the flask of water on his bedside stool, sat up and drank.

  Sabrinia held his hand. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, you know.’

  She sat up. ‘I know.’ She huffed.

  He wished his brain would forget it just once so he could enjoy being in the moment. ‘I keep wanting it to be different.’ Even now, next to her, she was far away.

  ‘So do I.’ She placed her head on his shoulder.

  ‘You’re the queen. Can’t you change the rules? Or find someone who can cast a spell to remove Arazod’s soul and bind mine?’

  She shook her head. ‘I wish I could. But that’s it. You get one marriage in this life. Not fair really, as it’d be nice to be able to change your mind.’

  He chuckled. He was sure she could change the rules if she wanted to. ‘I just… When I die, that’s it. I’ll have to wander wherever lonely souls go on my own while you’re tormented in the Realm of the Dead by that idiot.’

  She lifted her head. ‘I’d gladly switch places.’

  ‘I’m not sure Arazod is my type.’ He hated himself for making out he was the victim. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’

  She shrugged. ‘I found Arazod unbearable as soon as he spoke, and I doubt the Great Dragon has more patience.’

  Karl nodded. ‘Do you ever sense him?’

  She exhaled. ‘I think so. But I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks. There are times I think I can smell his feathers, his stale breath and feel his looming, miserable soul, just around.’ She gestured to the room. ‘I picture his beak twitching, and his feathers standing on end, looking at me in that predatory way he used to.’

  Karl swallowed. ‘Sorry to bring it up.’

  Sabrinia squeezed his hands. ‘It’s okay. It’s not easy for either of us.’

  Karl stroked her arm. He wished he could be happy with how things were, but it was in his core like a heavy, cold stone. ‘Hey. If he is watching, then why don’t we give him something he’ll hate looking at?’ Karl smiled.

  Sabrinia chuckled and pressed her lips against his.

  Karl’s heart lightened and he held her face, moving his hands behind her ears.

  She placed her hands on his, stopping him.

  He looked at the sheets.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just, now that you’ve brought him up, it makes me think about everything, and Father. Not really the kind of thoughts that go with this.’ She bit her lip.

  Karl nodded. ‘I know, sorry. It’s my fault.’

  Sabrinia placed a hand against his cheek. ‘I wish it could be different too.’

  He was sure it could be if she wanted it to be, but she was always thinking of her people. It was as if she forgot he was part of her life too.

  She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Let’s sleep so we can get up early to celebrate your day of birth.’ She threw a rag over the orb of fire and the room fell into darkness.

  Reunited

  Ryza stood on the edge of a cliff, her wings poking out of holes in her new robe. In the distance, five tiny islands dotted the southern sea. The Ivory Archipelago. Home. But why weren’t the Man-Hawks patrolling the sky? Her last memory was of a muscular being with rock fists twisting her neck. She was certain she had died.

  Ryza tried to remember more, but Quizmal’s weeping invaded her concentration.

  She flew up to the totem she had left him balancing on. ‘Stop crying and be quiet.’ She threw a berry into her beak, chewed it and then spat it out. ‘How do people live off this rubbish?’

  ‘I want to go home,’ Quizmal sobbed.

  Ryza rolled her shoulders. ‘We all want to go home. Just stay there and don’t do anything that makes me feel like killing you more than I already do.’ She’d gladly kick him off the totem, but he might prove useful. Having another life to threaten to protect her own had served her well in the past.

  She flew above him and hovered. She opened her beak, took a deep breath and released a demonic shriek towards the Ivory Archipelago. The skin under her arm feathers tingled. She’d missed the raw power in that sound.

  If they were there, they would answer her call.

  She listened, but no sound returned. She released another shriek and waited. She took slow breaths not to miss even the slightest sound. Waves bashed the base of the cliff and a wolf howled, probably telling her to shut her beak.

  Where were they? They should be responding.

  She flapped her way back down and huffed. What if they’d been wiped out? What if she was the only one who remained? She rested against the totem and feared the worst. She’d have to visit a village and ask for information, putting herself in a position of weakness.

  A faint shriek pierced the air and she tensed. But the shriek didn’t come from the Ivory Archipelago. She turned around and wondered if she was going mad, but then she heard it again. She opened her wings. The Man-Hawk’s call came from the north, from the spiky black rocks of Mount Hastovia.

  Dragon’s Dinner

  Arazod lay on the cold ground inside a circle of ro
cks – his bed. He stared at the stalactites on the ceiling, wondering if he’d imagined the sound. There were no Man-Hawks left to be shrieking. He’d seen to that, and if there was one, did he want to see them? Maybe he could get them to help him. Then he’d kill them once he was free.

  Water dripped onto his feathers. He shuffled to his right but another drop hit him.

  He grumbled. Three years in this miserable cave, living as the Great Dragon’s plaything. He hadn’t seen his reflection in all that time, but his feathers were filthy and he could see his ribs. His bones creaked whenever he moved and the closest thing he had to a bath was when the Great Dragon’s dry, bumpy tongue licked him.

  Arazod stared at the beast, roughly thirty feet high and about sixty long, black as the darkness he dwelt in and outlined by the faint glow of the night sun creeping into the mountain.

  The dragon’s spear-pointed teeth tore through the torso of a boar-hippo. The beast was pure power and death, yet all he ever did was eat, sleep and torment Arazod. What a waste.

  Arazod thought about the long list of people he hated, but at the top of the list were two: Karl, who wouldn’t die even when Arazod kicked him off a cliff, and Sabrinia, who refused to love him. All she had to do was love him and everything would be different.

  Arazod sat up and released another demonic shriek, so forceful it hurt his broken wing. He’d take his chances with a Man-Hawk.

  ‘What are you doing?’ the dragon asked in a voice more suited to a small child.

  ‘I like the—’ Arazod wheezed, ‘—echo this cave provides.’

  ‘Well, stop it. That noise makes my skin crawl, and you’re disturbing my snacking.’

  Arazod fixed his eyes on the dragon’s scales. He wished he could grow to the dragon’s size and sink his talons into the monster’s flesh. He’d shred him and relish the warmth of dragon blood soaking his feathers while he ripped out the beast’s insides.

  Arazod missed having working wings and freedom.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ the Great Dragon asked.

  ‘You know the answer.’

  The dragon crunched through the boar-hippo’s skull. ‘I just like hearing you say it. Go on.’ He flicked a sheet of boar-hippo skin onto Arazod’s head.

  ‘Agh!’ Arazod whined and fought to remove the oily skin-blanket. He threw it down, his feathers a mess of grease and blood. ‘Of course I’m hungry! I’m starving!’ A waft of rotting flesh shot into his nostrils and he retched. He stared at the dragon with the rage reserved for his murder victims.

  The Great Dragon laughed. ‘You’re cute when you’re stressed.’

  Arazod shuddered. ‘I hope you choke—’ he wheezed, ‘—to death on those bones!’

  The Great Dragon raised his head from his meal, turned and brought his face closer to Arazod’s.

  Arazod raised a claw. The tension in his body turned to trembling fear. ‘I didn’t mean that…’

  The dragon breathed on Arazod’s face. The warm stench of devoured creatures clung to Arazod’s feathers.

  He swallowed his vomit.

  ‘Clean my teeth,’ the dragon demanded.

  Not again. Arazod struggled onto his bony legs. His stomach twisted, desperate for proper food.

  The Great Dragon rested his face on the rocky ground, opened his mouth and rolled his dull red tongue out, creating a fleshy path to more misery.

  Arazod stepped onto the tongue and pressed his talons down, hoping to cause the dragon any kind of pain. It amazed him how the monster’s teeth were the same size as him. That’s how insignificant he had become.

  The heat suffocated Arazod and served as a reminder that one puff of fire would be enough to cook him.

  Arazod spotted some boar-hippo stuck between two lower teeth. He approached and pecked at the meat, dislodging it. He chewed some and forced it down despite his body trying to reject it. He was lucky it was somewhat fresh today. His stomach turned.

  Arazod pecked some more meat out of the beast’s teeth. ‘All clean.’ Arazod grimaced.

  The dragon exhaled, knocking Arazod down his tongue and back into the circle of rocks.

  The monster retracted his tongue. ‘I’ve been thinking. I know I say it a lot, but tomorrow I think I will finally set you on fire.’

  Part of Arazod was relieved. Death was preferable to this tedious routine.

  ‘Time to sleep now.’ The dragon lay down, closed his eyes and pinned Arazod under his claw.

  Arazod stared up at the stalactites. If only one would fall and pierce his head – or, better yet, pierce the dragon’s. A giant, sword-shaped rock sticking out of the dragon’s skull, squashing an eye, would be a majestic sight.

  A shadow moved in the cave entrance, but when Arazod focused there was nothing.

  He closed his eyes, but when he reopened them his breath caught in his chest. Was he hallucinating? His sister, Ryza, hovered in the entrance, a haunting smirk on her beak.

  She flew over to him. ‘Hello, Little Arazod,’ she whispered.

  He smiled through the terror. ‘Sister—’

  ‘Let’s get you out of here.’ She grimaced at the stench, gathered the bones of the dead creatures and placed them under the dragon’s claw, propping it up.

  Arazod shuffled free, keeping his eyes on her. How?

  Ryza shook her head; a disappointed gesture he had experienced too many times in the past.

  Arazod stood. ‘It will come looking for me when it wakes up,’ he whispered.

  ‘Just grab on,’ she replied.

  Arazod wrapped his arms around his sister’s neck.

  She flew them out of the cave.

  Arazod glanced back and wondered whether he was safer staying where he was.

  Shared Experiences

  Oaf held Questions. They had been in the centre of Inquiso for a lifetime, frozen in a helpless hug, not bothered by the icy wind.

  Fools stood in their doorways, wearing multiple layers of fur and not saying anything, but Oaf appreciated them being there.

  ‘Why did we try to help those stupid tortured souls?’ Questions pulled away from Oaf.

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ He was right; she loved helping.

  ‘Why did you fall asleep?’ she asked.

  Oaf bit his lip and squeezed her hands. He already felt like a failure, and knowing he had hurt the person he loved the most made it worse. ‘I’m going to go and find him.’ He would never forget the moment he told her Quizmal had been kidnapped. Emotions burst out of her face.

  ‘Should I go with you?’ Questions asked.

  He didn’t want her endangering herself too. ‘You should stay here, in case they send a message.’ On his own he didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s safety, and he didn’t care about his life if it meant recovering Quizmal.

  ‘Can I go with you?’ She stared into his eyes and clenched her fists. ‘Can I help you find who took him? Can I help you bring our son back?’ She trembled.

  ‘It’s better if I go alone.’ He held her arms.

  ‘Do you think I’ll get in the way?’ she asked.

  He took a breath and closed his wounded eye to fight the stinging.

  A Fool stepped forward and scratched its grey nose. ‘We can keep watch here and look after little Boofa.’

  Oaf ignored the Fool.

  Another Fool offered Questions a thin blade of black steel. ‘It’s been only decorative, but it seems it has a use now.’

  Oaf stared into Questions’ eyes.

  She took the blade and marched into their hut. She walked out with Boofa and stopped in front of the doorway. ‘Will I be back soon?’ she asked Boofa.

  Boofa nodded.

  Questions kissed Boofa’s forehead. ‘Do I love you?’

  ‘I love you too.’

  Questions disappeared down the path.

  ‘Questions!’ Oaf called out.

  The image of Oaf’s injured son haunted him. His family had been happy and his heart bursting with joy. Now everything drowned in pain and hi
s heart felt as if it was choking itself. It was all his fault.

  The Fool put its hand on Oaf’s shoulder. ‘Go and find your son. And when you need us, we’ll be ready.’

  Oaf turned to Boofa and squeezed her. ‘I love you so much. I’ll be back with your brother soon, but until then your Fool uncles will look after you.’

  ‘I love you, Pa.’

  Oaf clenched his fists and followed Questions. He would retrieve his son or die trying.

  Memories

  The siblings sat on the roof of a barn and left Quizmal, rope-bound and gagged, asleep on the hard mud next to a sack.

  A farmer, his wife and young child, scratched, pecked and mutilated, lay by a tree.

  Arazod ripped meat from the farmer’s severed hand.

  Ryza pecked shredded human skin out of her talons. ‘When I returned to the Rux Cay to finish the new nests, Favron and I were ambushed. Some brute with rock fists bashed Favron’s skull until it was unrecognisable. Then he tortured me. The next thing I know I’m naked by a fountain in an icy dump.’

  Arazod’s heart clenched. He hoped she hadn’t seen him that day. Had he known more about tortured souls back then he would’ve made sure Lord Ragnus crushed her. ‘Who was this brute?’ Arazod asked.

  ‘I don’t know. But he twisted my neck until it started to tear. If they were bandits they would’ve made it quick, so I can only assume it was a planned attack.’

  Arazod pecked the farmer’s finger, avoiding eye contact with Ryza.

  ‘What year are we in?’ Ryza asked.

  ‘The tenth raven.’

  ‘Nine years! I’ve been gone nine years!’ She took a breath. ‘Whoever did this will suffer.’

  Arazod scratched his neck feathers. ‘And I will help you.’

  ‘Where are the other Man-Hawks? And Father?’ Ryza stared at the side of Arazod’s head.