by Isaac Hooke
“What!?” Vorgon said.
“I don’t serve you,” Malem shouted. “I never served you.”
“Kill me!” Wendolin screamed. “It’s the only way to stop him!”
Malem spun toward her with his sword raised. “As you wish!”
He swung, and felt the sickening thud of impact. Fibrous cords broke free from where they were wrapped around the bony surface below. But no blood splashed him, for he had struck not Wendolin, but her bonds, and the hard tree underneath. The impact had severed half of them—it wasn’t enough to free her.
He raised the sword to strike again, knowing Vorgon wouldn’t attack with his ax, nor his Darkness, not while Malem stood this close to Wendolin. The Balor wouldn’t dare risk the life of his precious bride.
“I said kill me!” Wendolin repeated, as she yet struggled against his hold.
But before he could slam his sword into the remaining binds, the shale erupted around Malem. He was forced backward as creatures burst forth, terrible things with black, panther-like bodies, and heads that were all toothy blades.
Malem hastily backed away. He reached out, trying to Break them, but his will evaporated upon touching their minds.
He struck at one of the creatures as it lunged at him, slicing through its maw and sending black blood splattering into the air. Balethorn fed him no stamina, and instead complained bitterly at the taste.
The creatures ignored the humanoid, and Wendolin, and formed a half-circle in front of Malem, forcing him backward.
Toward Vorgon.
He glanced over his shoulder in time to see that ax swinging down at him.
He rushed the creatures, hoping the move would catch them off guard, and sure enough they parted before him. He swung his sword in an arc as he passed, slicing through the side of one of them, and it howled. Behind him, the land shook as the blue-flamed ax struck the ground, sending up shards of shale.
He turned toward the creatures again, which were now in line with Vorgon, and the tree, so he could see them all as he backed away. Very likely none of those tentacled panthers were mages, or had magical powers of any kind. Vorgon wouldn’t allow any stamina competitors to exist in this realm.
Vorgon took a step forward, and the creatures rushed Malem.
While still fighting Wendolin mentally, he struck out at them frantically, hewing down the beasts as they came in. One leaped at him, and he dodged to the side, slicing off its right foreleg and hind leg. The second crashed into his arm and bit into the dragon scales of his shoulder, the tentacles wrapped around his neck. He spun his body so that the third monster crashed into that one, tearing it away. The tentacles yanked his neck badly before they ripped free, straining the muscles.
Motion drew his gaze upward, to Vorgon’s ax, which was coming down. He dove to the side, but two of the monsters in front of him didn’t realize what was happening—their backs were to Vorgon—and they were simultaneously severed and crushed.
Only four of the creatures were left around him. Malem rushed forward, moving in beside the ax blade as it withdrew from the ground, and stabbed the next monster through its tentacled mouth.
He spun around, hoping to catch sight of the other three before the next monster attacked, when he took a blow to the side that toppled him. His sword flew from his hands. One of those tentacled panthers pinned him.
Those tentacles wrapped around his neck, and squeezed, choking the life out of him while simultaneously drawing him into the toothy maw that awaited at their base: essentially a gullet lined with razor sharp blades along the entire inner surface.
Malem grabbed those tentacles, and tried to wrench them away, but could not.
Meanwhile, the two other monsters approached, coming in toward his exposed head, no doubt intending to cut upon his skull while the other occupied him.
He let go of the tentacles, and felt around on the ground beside him for his sword. He couldn’t find it.
Stars appeared across his vision as the creature continued to deprive him of oxygen.
At the same time, Wendolin’s struggling lessened, as if she feared she was contributing to his current predicament.
Vorgon’s hold upon him began to renew.
He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was probably going to lose this fight.
39
Keep fighting! Malem sent Wendolin.
She did, and he momentarily froze as he struggled to keep up with the renewed mental attack. But at least Vorgon was far away.
He almost couldn’t see now, for all the stars that covered his vision. He was still groping around with his hand… there, his fingers wrapped around the blade. He slid the weapon underneath the tentacles that bound him, and shoved upward, slicing through them like a man cutting the thick cords binding a crate. Balethorn sputtered at the taste.
The monster screamed, rolling off him. Malem shoved his upper body upright, and struck out at the panther to his left, cutting through its maw. That left one monster.
Tentacles wrapped around his wrist before he could turn around, and yanked his arm hard, forcing him to release the weapon. Then it leaped on him, and pinned him, holding him there while Vorgon’s blade came down. The Balor intended to slice through them both.
Malem reached out. His beast sense told him that the monster whose tentacles he had cut through yet lived, so he wrapped his will around it. His will didn’t evaporate, but there was no time to Break it, not while that blade was coming down.
Malem shifted his weight to the side, and rolled, carrying the monster with him. Vorgon’s ax struck the earth just beside him, and he felt the vibrations from the blow. Shale leaped into the air around him.
He focused on the injured monster again, and squeezed, Breaking it. He promptly instructed the creature to plow into the tentacled-panther that yet pinned him.
His new pet slammed into the monster, ripping it from Malem. He began to clamber upright. His neck was stiff from all the fighting, and he flinched when he finally stood, the pain only now becoming evident. He had to be very careful how he moved.
He glanced at the ground, searching for his sword, until he noticed the streams of Darkness that Vorgon launched next. The Dark mist swirled toward him… he could feel it separately from the Balor, as if the mist was driven by a separate, alien intellect. He tried to Break it, as he had once done to Banvil, but his mental tendrils dissipated upon the touch.
He fled, but was too late, and the streams wrapped around him.
And now I die.
But they did no harm.
Of course.
Vorgon’s Darkness already flowed inside Malem in great heaving waves. The Darkness could not destroy itself.
Beside him, the two monsters had stopped fighting. Some of the mist had curled over both of them, and they collapsed, dying as black veins spread across their flesh. Malem crushed the will of the one he had Broken, taking the stamina for himself.
The mist subsided from his body and Vorgon began to laugh. A booming, bloodcurdling sound.
“I thought, for a moment, that you had torn free of me,” Vorgon said. “But you are still mine!”
A hint of Vorgon appeared in his core, and Malem suppressed a momentary panic. Those malevolent tendrils reached out, spreading across his mind, growing more substantial, and firmer, with each passing moment.
I’m going to lose myself.
Wendolin struggled ever harder, and Malem bit down as he fought her.
That did it.
The Balor receded inside him once more.
“If my will, and my Darkness, cannot harm you,” Vorgon said. “Then my flesh will!”
The Balor reached down with its free hand, moving faster than Malem thought physically possible for a creature that big. Malem thought he could outrun that hand, but he was weak, from both the physical and mental fighting, and Vorgon scooped him up.
“I will devour you!” Vorgon said.
The creature’s fiery touch burned, but so far Malem’s armor pro
tected him—the scales sizzled and smoked as that giant hand lifted him.
Malem’s arms weren’t pinned, so he attempted to punch down at the shadowy fingers that held him. It was a frail, feeble attempt to break free that gave Vorgon a good chuckle.
“Like a squirming maggot,” the Balor said. “Caught in the crow’s claws.”
Wendolin continued to fight against Malem’s mental hold, and he relished that battle, he truly did, because it was the only one that mattered. It gave him freedom. At least he would die as himself, and not as Vorgon’s.
“Defiler!” Wendolin shouted from below.
He glanced toward the tree. The binds hung loose. Though Malem hadn’t been able to cut her free entirely, the attack had slackened the remainder enough for her to wriggle free.
She stood well away from the gnarled trunk, no doubt outside the debuff zone, which meant the zone was much smaller than the one Denfidal had created in the Black Realm—apparently debuffs weren't Vorgon’s specialty.
She must have roamed far and wide while he had kept Vorgon occupied, because in her hand she held the sack that the Balor had hurled away. She tossed that sack, and the pearl it contained, toward the tree.
The knotty, dead thing sprung to life, and caught the sack. The branches continued upward, thrusting toward Malem and the Balor, following him as Vorgon lifted him to its mouth. The Balor swung the fiery ax it held in its other hand and attempted to chop down the bole, but a profusion of limbs thrust from the target area before impact, forming a bastion that the ax could not hew through.
He felt Wendolin flagging, and he desperately fed her stamina. She was no longer fighting him as fiercely, and Vorgon began to creep back into his mind.
Intending to fulfill its promise to devour him, Vorgon lifted Malem to its ugly demonic mouth—a gaping hole of shadow and flame. But the tree branches appeared above Malem at the same time, and dumped the contents of the sack. The Light Pearl fell, and Malem caught it in his arms.
He threw the opalescent object into the Balor’s mouth, and the demon dropped him immediately. Malem fell.
It was at least four stories or more to the ground.
But branches grew from the tree, wrapping around him, cradling him, and saving his life.
Vorgon staggered for a moment. But then the demon straightened.
“Idiot,” Vorgon said. “I’m too powerful for even a Light Pearl to harm me!”
The branches brought Malem toward the ground, but Vorgon struck out with its ax, breaking them, forcing Malem to leap free. He plunged the final two yards and rolled upon impact to break his fall.
He scrambled to his knees and spotted Balethorn beside him.
Fortune is on my side today. For once...
He scooped up the blade, arose, and darted toward the pale, humanoid creature that lingered next to the tree.
Two more of the tentacled panthers emerged from the shale and attempted to intercept him.
But he would not be denied. He struck out with Balethorn, and the blade chopped the head off the first monster. He ignored the disgust emanating from the sword, and stepped forward, turning as he did so, to swing the blade in a wide arc that caught the second monster in the side, tearing a wide gash in its flank. Then he continued onward as Vorgon swung the ax again.
The ground shook behind him from the impact of the blow.
Malem reached the humanoid, and without pausing, he ran the creature through with his blade. Balethorn seemed indifferent, as if Malem had struck some inanimate object.
But the female’s eyes came into focus for the first time. She glanced down at the blade as if in shock, and then looked at him. A peaceful expression settled across her face.
“Thank you,” the humanoid said, and disintegrated.
With the humanoid dead, Malem hoped to sever Vorgon’s access to the reserve essence of this realm, preventing the demon from resisting whatever it was the pearl was doing to its insides.
Sure enough, bright veins began to spider across Vorgon’s shadowy skin. Some of those veins cracked the skin open, and javelins of light thrust forth.
Pillars of energy began to erupt in unrestrained profusion across the Balor as more of those veins broke apart so that soon the entire demon was glowing a blinding yellow-white. Malem was forced to shield his eyes—it was no different than looking at the sun.
And then the Balor exploded. Shadows and flames tore into the sky, disintegrating.
But the light remained.
Still shielding his eyes, Malem glanced toward the source of the glow. It was just a formless mass. All that was left of Vorgon’s internal organs?
As he stood there, squinting up at that mass, an incredible sense of calm overcame him, and he dropped Balethorn.
He realized he no longer felt Vorgon at his core. Nor any of his companions. He was free. Utterly.
And yet he felt so empty.
Then he sensed the dark tendrils of Banvil burrowing forth from the crevices of his mind. Those tendrils expanded, reaching throughout his mind like some black tree.
The calm gave way to panic, and Malem fought Banvil with all his will.
The dark tendrils retreated before his touch, giving way as Malem beat them back. He struck and struck, hammering that black tree until he had driven it down almost to the roots. Malem realized Banvil was so weak, he could banish the demon entirely if he truly wanted.
But what about the women? he asked himself. What about my powers over beasts and monsters?
Two paths extended before him in that moment.
The first would allow him to live out the rest of his life as an ordinary man.
The second was the path of the Breaker.
One path led to a life unchallenged. The life Gwenfrieda—no, Gwen—claimed to yearn for. A life of calm and tranquility. Of settling down, and giving up his nomadic existence. A life where the only worries he had would be what clothes to put on his back in the morning, and what meals to feed his children in the evening.
A life spent relatively alone, with no one to bother him.
The second was a life of power. A life surrounded by companions both human and beast. Of wild sex and magnified pleasures. A life of rule by his iron will.
Shit. Of course the second life won by far. He would be a moron to give that up. And yet, he knew that there would still come times when he would yearn for the quiet life. He would simply have to remind himself during such episodes that he had chosen his path.
And so he surrendered, letting the tendrils of the demon take hold in his mind.
It was different than Vorgon’s Breaking. More of a gentle joining. There was no sense of the Balor at his core, no well he could draw stamina from.
The sense of the women bound to him returned, their energy bundles weak, distant, but there. Wendolin’s however was strong, of course, owing to her location in this realm.
If he focused on the Darkness inside of him as Banvil had taught, he would be able to send a message to the Balor. But there was no need, not at the moment. In fact, he didn’t want to see or hear from Banvil for a very long time.
Malem realized he had been partially cheated. Banvil had hinted Vorgon would try to take over his mind again, but it was obvious the defeated Balor was in no state to even attempt such a thing. He wondered if Vorgon even existed anymore. No, Malem didn’t need Banvil in his mind to protect him, because there was nothing to protect him from. That was the earlier deceit he had suspected.
There were probably other treacheries hidden in the demon’s words. Banvil had said it would be many years before the Balor was strong enough to take over Malem’s mind and body fully. Malem wondered if that was a lie as well: perhaps he might have only a few years. Maybe months.
Well, I wish the Balor luck, Malem thought with a grim smile.
As he watched, the glowing mass before him coalesced into a being of pure Light. It was still bright to look at, but not blindingly so, and he only had to squint a little bit. The being was humanoid in
shape, with a head that was vertically elongated. Its arms and legs were thin, almost stilt like, and its torso was only slightly bigger. From the way its upper chest protruded, he assumed it was a female.
Strands of yellow healing light emerged from the creature and flowed into Malem’s body, healing wounds he hadn’t realized he had—Vorgon had crushed him harder than he thought. His breathing came easier. He felt that light recoil as it entered his mind, no doubt because of the Darkness that lingered there.
“Who are you?” Malem said.
“You may call me Tempestria,” the creature said. Her voice was melodic, very calming. “I am a Paragon.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Malem said.
“We are the opposites of the Balor,” Tempestria said. “We provide balance. Light, to their Dark. We are from the Light Realm.”
That was a realm he had never heard of. He glanced at Wendolin, who strode to his side.
“You knew this would happen?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I hoped.”
Malem turned toward the light being. “Is Vorgon dead?”
“No,” Tempestria said. “Greatly weakened, yes, but not destroyed. But he is trapped here. I have closed the way to the Black Realm. We agents of balance thank you for what you have done. You have saved your world, and many others in the process.”
“Well, you’re welcome,” Malem said. “But I don’t suppose you have a way to send us back to our own world? I’m not sure I’d really like to spend the rest of my days in this place.”
“Why not?” Wendolin said. “It might be kind of fun.” She gave him the closest to an amorous look he had seen on the woman yet. But it was fleeting.
Tempestria waved a hand, and a bright yellow portal appeared before him. “A doorway to your world.”
Malem knelt, retrieved Balethorn from the shale, and then slid the blade home in its scabbard. He turned to go.
“Breaker,” Tempestria said.
Malem paused, glancing over his shoulder at the light being.
“Be warned, the Balor you have allowed inside of you will grow in strength over time,” Tempestria said. “You will have to fight it, someday.”