Fallen Sepulchre
Page 39
“Perhaps,” Sythrnax nodded. “But that hammer was forged in Hell. Only the purest blood of Hell can wield it, Maxwell Soryn.” Turning back to Yrlissa, Sythrnax smiled. “What was that DemonKind commander's name, Yrlissa?” he asked coyly. “You remember, the one you loved so much that you abandoned your charge when you heard he fell?”
Yrlissa stared at Max and her eyes filled with tears. “Sorynamax.”
“Yes, right. Funny, isn't it? This multi-verse really is kinda small at times. I guess it matters little now. You will all still die here. DemonKind, Elvehn, Human, half-breed child,” he said, looking at Cassie. “It doesn't matter. You die. It really is simple as—”
A snap of dark energy rocked the clearing, cutting Sythrnax's words short. Both Elloryan knights holding Katarina were yanked backwards by invisible hands, slamming into the trees at the edge of the clearing. Both fell to the grass, the finality of death obvious.
“Not tonight they won't, Ancient.” The voice drifted from the forest. Black lightning arced from the north. Four more Elloryan soldiers died instantly.
“Show yourself, Kai'Sar. I saw you on the battlefield earlier today. Using that much magic must have left you tired. Simple black lightning? Is that all you have left? You should have run.”
“I am far from tired, Ancient One. Care to see?” the voice taunted as a hooded wizard stepped from the trees. His robe hung open, blowing in the light breeze. Still, it covered the back and sides of the ornate black chain and leather armor worn by the wizard. Moonlight sparkled off the intricate symbols engraved in every link of the chainmail along with the lining of his robe and the tree of life symbol etched into the armor above the heart. The reflecting light stopped only where the mail disappeared under the robe.
The DeathWizard offered no warning and no words as he pushed his hands toward the ground. The tattoo-like black vines with purple thorns pulsated with a strange magic, moving as if alive. Ember’s stomach flipped at the sight. They spun and curled their way through the man's flesh. A sickening tear of his skin emanated from around him as the vines vaulted from his hands, hit the ground, and slid into the earth as if they belonged there.
The wizard looked up, but his face remained hidden within his hood. The vines exploded from the ground underneath the remaining Elloryan soldiers’ feet and quickly ensnared them. The vines raced around arms and legs, curling their way up the soldier's bodies before wrapping around their throats. Max stepped forward, putting himself between the vine-covered soldiers and Nekrosa and Sephi as they protected Cassie. Despite his defensive stance, Ember sensed the vines would not attack any of their group.
“Impossible,” Yrlissa whispered. “It can't be...”
Whether the DeathWizard heard her or not, he did not respond. Instead, he jerked his hands upward. The vines retreated, spinning as thorns cut through Elloryan flesh and armor like flimsy cloth. Legs, arms, and heads rolled to the ground in grotesque piles of gore.
A dozen soldiers died in mere seconds.
“Is that enough power?” the DeathWizard asked, taunting.
The Ancient clapped his hands at a slow rate. “You are much better trained than any of your kind I have faced before. The last one, now he had serious potential... had he not died after bleeding out on the first Animus Seal.”
Ember understood Sythrnax meant Kael. Without thinking of the consequences, she pulled a dagger from her rear waist band and hurled it at the monster who had orchestrated Kael's death. Sythrnax's tresa jumped to life, batting the knife away, even though the Ancient never saw her attack. He whirled, his eyes flaring purple in the darkness.
“Be careful, young Fae, if you want to live long enough for this monster to try and save you.” Sythrnax turned back. The DeathWizard materialized in front of him and kicked him hard in the stomach. The Ancient warrior flew across the clearing as if launched by a cannon. His staff sputtered and vanished as it spun from his hands. The DeathWizard disappeared in a cloud of black, reappearing off to the side as if knowing Sythrnax would counter the second he landed in the dirt and grass. The Ancient warrior’s spell of compressed air cut through four towering trees at the clearing's edge where the DeathWizard had stood only moments before.
“Better worry about living long enough yourself, Ancient,” the dark wizard spat. The wizard spread his fingers, and Sythrnax was dragged face first through the clearing by an unseen force. The wizard raised his hand and Sythrnax was jerked up to his knees. Misty black magic fell from the wizard's hands, jumping across the space between them. Curling around the Ancient warrior’s throat, it lifted Sythrnax off the ground until his feet dangled in midair.
Yrlissa grabbed Ember's arm, smiling. “It's him. It has to be. No one else has ever...”
“Who? Who is it?” Ember asked as the wizard tossed Sythrnax back to the dirt, but she did not get her answer.
Sythrnax burst out laughing at the manhandling. “Ah, well done,” he complemented. “Many millennia have passed since I've had to pick myself up from the ground during battle. But I can feel your strength waning, Kai'Sar. You are almost done.”
“Fool!” the wizard snapped. “You think you’re a real Ancient? You don't even know the true meaning of that word. If you were a true Ancient, you'd at least know the meaning of their most common words.”
“No... no,” Yrlissa whispered, trembling. Startled by the sudden change in Yrlissa's behavior, Ember stared hard at the DeathWizard and tried to discern his identity. The man's voice and shape were familiar, but he moved as if he were not completely in the real world. His body shimmered, and there was a slight echo to his voice. Trying to alter his aura, Ember gasped when her magic was swallowed by the swirls of energy surrounding the wizard.
Sythrnax roared with laughter, and Ember returned her attention to the fight.
“I do know what the word means, dosa,” Sythrnax growled. “We named you. The cursed Kai'Sar: the wizard who walks with death. A twisted, corrupt failed weapon!” Sythrnax's bladed staff appeared in his hand, again. It trailed cold vapor into the humid night air.
“You're wrong.” The wizard sighed as if exhausted. “We had a discussion once, Sythrnax. A very, very long time ago.”
Yrlissa shook her head, and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. “No. No… please gods, no.” Her voice barely reached Ember beside her. “That’s impossible…”
The wizard continued. “At the time, you said you had hoped I'd see through your illusion. And yet, you can't see through the reality before you.”
Ember could sense fear radiate from Sythrnax as he answered. “That is not possible. You are dead. I saw you die. I arranged all of it.”
“I did die, you fucking monster!” the wizard bellowed.
“Mai nahlla,” Yrlissa whispered, grabbing Ember’s arm. “We need to run. Fast!” she hissed.
“Nobody leaves!” the DeathWizard yelled, throwing up his hands. Black vines exploded from the ground. The vines writhed and grew rapidly to heights that rivaled the forest trees. Surrounding the clearing, the vines completely cut off all escape routes.
The DeathWizard’s focus returned to Sythrnax. “The Kai'Sar,” he said, but paused and slowly circled Sythrnax. He stopped in front of the Ancient warrior. “The wizard who walks with death… the wizard who brings death. Half translations and twisted truths. Propaganda. It never meant a wizard who walks with death. An angel explained the meaning to me in detail.” Sythrnax snorted and the DeathWizard struck the Ancient and knocked him to the dirt. The staff vanished, again, as the savage blow prevented Sythrnax from holding the magic. “The Arkangel Seraphina told me what the term Kai'Sar truly means.”
Ember could feel Yrlissa shaking as she held her arm tight. As if lost in a trance, the assassin whispered, her words identical to the DeathWizard's.
“It means a wizard who walks from death!” Kael shouted, lowering his hood. “From! Not with.”
“I… I... impossible! It… ca... it cannot be done...” Sythrnax stuttered, his terror obviou
s. Even with his hood down, Ember could not make out the DeathWizard's identity, but his voice was clearer, his shape familiar—too familiar.
“Kael?” she whispered, and she could believe her eyes, afraid it was a trick or illusion.
“You are weak, Kai’Sar,” Sythrnax hissed.
“My power is not waning,” Kael barked. “Like the gods of old, my power has no limit. If one avenue of magic is exhausted, there are many others to tap into. You'll see that as you suffer for everything of mine and of so many others that you have destroyed. I have thought about nothing else for over two hundred years. Every demon I killed, every angel I tore apart, every goddamn soul I stole to get back here, and every single second of every day that I fought and ran and fought and killed—every second of it I saw your face and this moment kept me going. Call your staff back, Sythrnax, and fight. It is more of a chance than you have ever given others.”
“Fair enough, dosa.” Sythrnax eased himself off the ground, and again, his staff materialized. He muttered a few strange words, and the spell increased the weapon's potency by creating sharp crystals of ice along the bladed edges.
“My turn,” Kael said as a smile crept onto his lips. A matching set of short-handled scythes appeared in his hands.
“New weapons?” Sythrnax mocked. “Not skilled enough to handle the double reaper blades anymore?”
Kael grinned as black smoke coiled off the blades and a viscous poison hung from the tips like strings of black goo. “Nah,” he replied. “Just upgraded.
“All alone too?” Sythrnax said, continuing to taunt him. “Sure you don't want to summon help, again?” His words were an attempt to unsettle Kael, but Kael calmly shook his head.
“I don't need a demon to help me,” he stated. The Ancient warrior frowned, and Kael lunged.
Sythrnax spun his staff and caught Kael's right blade. Three lengths of tresa shot out of his hood and lashed out at Kael’s face. The scaled appendages missed, but just barely. Already spinning the weapon in his left hand, Kael slid the short blade past the staff and into Sythrnax's side. Sythrnax countered with a blast of air. Kael dove to the side, and the attack passed by harmlessly.
Coming out of his roll, Kael’s hand shot out. Black and purple magic leapt away too fast to follow. Sythrnax stopped dead in his tracks unable to move as a glyph spell formed beneath the Ancient warrior's feet. Chuckling, Kael made a simple gesture with his hand. It silenced the snapping, violently clicking of the tresa.
“My tresa—”
“Not much fun when someone can control your actions, is it?” he barked. In a swirl of black, he vanished, reappearing right in front of Sythrnax's face.
"You recognize that magic under your feet? The Animus Seals have one nearly identical. Do you remember, Sythrnax?”
Getting a slight nod from the Ancient, Kael continued, “It's surprising what you can learn when you spend over two centuries in Hell. Perdition is the worst place I have... you don't sleep, and you don't eat on the other side, Sythrnax—not ever. You run, you hide, and you fight for every second of every minute of every goddamn hour. You feel the exhaustion and the agony of all wounds as real as they are here in the living world, but you never collapse, and you never get to rest. Even in the Paradise realms. For more than two hundred years, that's all I did—every day, of every week, of every fucking year!" Kael screamed in Sythrnax's face as he shook with rage. Taking a breath, he quickly calmed, though Ember understood that a mere thread held Kael’s sanity intact as he carried on speaking. "The Lower Brethren spill many secrets along with their blood, and angels spill even more. A few minor changes and that same magic cues to your blood instead of mine."
Kicking out, Kael's foot hammered the Ancient warrior’s knee. Bone crunched as the force of the kick spun the Ancient to the ground within the edges of the glyph.
“Get up and fight!” Kael hollered. The Vai'Karth disappeared as Kael stepped back and pulled his hand backward. Vines exploded from the ground, spinning and cutting their way through Sythrnax's armored robe.
“Enough!” the Ancient yelled. Sythrnax slammed his hand on the ground, and the glyph shattered, allowing him to roll out from the vines.
Ember gasped as magic shimmered behind Kael. “Kael, look out!” she screamed, but only managed to distract him.
“Ember?” he let out in shock. He took a step forward, but a blade materialized at his throat. A second blade appeared at the back of his neck along with the man who held both wooden blades.
“Easy, tough guy,” Savis Ephemeral growled. “I’ve never had the joy of killing someone twice.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“If you expect an enemy to act honorable, then you have already lost the fight. Only a brother will act honorably. It is why you should never have an urge to do battle with a brother.” Northman Proverb.
“For a society bred and raised to thrive on warfare, I often wonder how the Northmen have produced the legendary philosopher’s they have. Their insights toward battle, wars, and even peace have puzzled scholars on mainland Talohna for countless centuries. I had the honor of spending time with several high-ranking Northman military families during my studies at the Skall of Yrstak. A school renowned for training elite Northman military leaders, the school at Yrstak has an impressive library section on philosophy.”
Garren Sallus. Tales of Northman Glory
ACROPA MOUNTAIN PASS
DORMASAI
Kael’s short scythes vanished, and he slowly lifted his hands. “No honor among warriors, huh Sythrnax?” he asked.
“You had help last time, Kael,” the Ancient Wizard said as he eased himself from the ground and touched the wound on his side. “It only seemed fair that I bring help this time—especially considering you are helping an outcast assassin. It is the least I could do for Merethyl.”
Savis blew Yrlissa a kiss. “You’re next sweetheart,” he said and laughed. “Today is the day for killing people twice.”
Kael snorted, and the wooden blade cut into his neck. “Worrying about the viper two dozen feet away when you already have one in your hands makes no sense, Savis.”
Ember winced as the assassin’s blade bit deeper.
“I am capable of both,” Savis replied. “I assure you.”
“We’ll see.” Kael grinned.
“Long forgotten proverbs won’t help you,” the Ancient Wizard said and stepped closer. “You should be more worried about the woman being so close to me while you are under the only blade in this world that can kill you. You know that?”
“I doubt she’s even real Sythrnax, just more illusions.”
“Kael?” Ember said and winced at his reaction.
“I assure you, she is very real. Why else would I be here? Shall I kill her?”
“No,” Kael growled and pull against Savis. The wooden blade bit deeper.
“Careful, wizard,” the assassin snarled. “If this blade cracks even the slightest bit.”
Kael scoffed. “I am well aware what the toxin does when the blade breaks.”
“Of course, you do,” Savis whispered. “I already killed you once.”
Fury built on Kael’s face and his body trembled with the desire to attack.
“A mistake I won’t make, again. It takes a while sometimes, but I do learn from my mistakes.”
Sythrnax leaned in even closer. “Apparently not, or you would know that the people behind me are very real. Though. the demon queen’s Ichor must make it difficult for you to see reality clearly. The Ichor is easy for me to manipulate. Perhaps you should calm yourself, Kael.” Sythrnax balled his hand into a fist and his magic sparked to life. He opened his fist and touched Kael’s shoulder. The swirling magic surrounding Kael vanished.
With Kael subdued, Ember finally sensed more and more of the man she loved. The putrid sensation created by the filth of Reetha’s Ichor made her gag as it pulsed in his veins while Sythrnax took control of the Ichor. She felt the waves of images and dark emotions—all too jumbled to und
erstand—as they hit Kael hard. With a confident smile, he shoved the waves of delirium back and reasserted control over his own mind.
“Nice try, bastard. You won’t get inside my head so easily,” he said.
“I don’t really have to, do I?” Sythrnax asked. “Your mind is already scrambled. You can clearly see who is across this field, and yet, I sense you still refuse to believe it.”
“Ember and Max are dead,” he said. “They’re just another illusion.”
“No, we’re not, Kael,” Ember pleaded with him. “We’re right here. We survived the cross-over.”
“Giddeon told me you survived,” he muttered to himself. She could sense his sanity slip further away.
Max pushed past Nekrosa and stepped forward. “Kael? Buddy? We’re here, man, and we have been looking for you for so long. I am so sorry we weren’t fast enough last time, but we are here, now. Don’t let this fucking bastard get away with this!”
Kael frowned and stared at Sythrnax. “They have to be real. Hardly anyone here swears like Max,” he stated.
“They are real, Kael. I promise you,” Sythrnax answered. “And they will die right after you.”
“I won’t let that happen, Sythrnax,” Kael growled. Ember could sense a vile blackness bloom from deep within his soul. “Not again. I will not die like this, again. Never. And I will never let you hurt them, not as long as I still breathe.”
Ember gasped as she felt the dark thing inside of Kael grow rapidly. “Kael!” she screamed. “Be careful.”
Sythrnax chuckled. “Kind of hard to not be careful with a Dyr blade at your neck.
“I won’t let you hurt them,” Kael repeated as tremors shook his body.
In a heartbeat, everything happened at once.
Cassie pushed her way to the front of the group. “Kael, help me!” she cried out.
Ember dropped to her knees while an awful pain built in her stomach. She glanced up at Kael as black mist rose from his flesh and armor. The skin across his cheeks and forehead split with long fissures racing across his face. Wicked thorns burst from the cracks above his eyebrows, and his eyes shone with black. The Kael she knew was gone—swallowed by a dark magic she could not begin to understand.