by LJ Davies
Two more figures started to move, their eyes lighting up the mist as they made the same awkward movements. More possessed forms emerged, loose bones creaking and rattling with every step until a whole hoard advanced steadily towards me. I stepped back, only stopping when I felt my tail touch another body.
A dozen or so skeletons surrounded me on all sides, weapons raised and ready to attack. It was clear I was going to have to fight and I didn't even know where my friends were within the mist.
There was no part of me that would regret destroying these soulless shells, their lives had been stolen long ago and their bodies defiled; if anything, I'd be doing them a favour.
A sudden movement behind me stirred up the shroud, and without thought I lunged forward at the atrocities, claws slamming into the bony chest of the foremost creature.
Its spear should have skewered me, but the force of the impact shoved the weapon’s wooden shaft back through its fragile rib cage. The brittle bones recoiled, sending the reanimated frame tumbling to the floor in a scattering of bones. A second creature swung a broad sword, the stiff, slow sweep, easily avoided, and with one fluent continuation of my movement, I literally swept its legs from under its, leaving the frame to collapse.
All the while, I could hear the struggling sounds of the others through the mist, and unable to see, I blundered wildly. A sudden movement disturbed the fog, sweeping it aside. My instincts forced me to drop to the floor as the wooden form of a bow whooshed over my head, skimming the tips of my horns. The force of the failed attack brought the third assailant into view, reaching into its quiver for an arrow before placing the projectile into the bow and drawing the string. I coiled my neck, opened my mouth and expelled a controlled blast of pale fire, instantly disintegrating the bones.
Although I'd done it before, to witness it made me feel like I wasn't so different from the others. That sense of belonging swiftly diminished when before I knew it, the lumbering shape of a skeletal griffin materialised. It swung at me and I threw myself into confrontation with its bony talons, my forward momentum turning against me when I slammed into the towering aggressor. It was like hitting a brick wall, the skeleton stood taller than any human, its front feet tipped with dark talons, while its wings were nothing more than emaciated stalks, useless for flight. Its skull stretched out from its fleshless neck, slowly rising before unleashing a soulless screech. I bowed my head as the unnatural scream, generated without physical flesh or muscle, rang in my ears like a bell.
Lifting myself to my paws, the ice beneath me began to hiss and melt. Turning to face the animated skeleton, with claws and teeth ready, the un-dead beast lowered its skull, readying its ferocious beak. Without hesitation I launched myself again, while it stumbled toward me with an open jaw.
The world filled with a blinding white light, diffused into a fiery glow by the mist as I barrelled into the bones. The skeletal beast catapulted back, its right foreleg disintegrated into a shower of bony splinters and dust. In retaliation, it rose on its three remaining limbs, trying to swat at me with its one remaining talon.
I dove forward, as I did its bony claw slammed me into the ice. Struggling to break free I pressed all four paws against the dry husk, razor-sharp claws scratching at its lifeless shell.
What's happening? Am I not strong enough? All I could do was stare hopelessly at the menacing, fleshless eyes looming over me.
Pushing harder, my claws grew hotter until the cold air screamed on contact with my scales. The griffin didn’t feel the heat, not even when it began to crumble into ash. Its talon disintegrated, and free from its grip, I threw myself up at its skull. My claws pierced the bare bone, ripping it away from the spine and shattering what remained of its defiled body.
I landed, panting as the air fell into silence and the steam rapidly cooled into a fine snow. Bones fell to the ice around me as my heart raced and my veins pumped with primal rage. When the veil lifted, my worst fear was realised – my friends and their skeletal opponents were gone. I searched frantically, desperation overcoming my exhaustion, as my fruitless efforts turned anxiety to despondency and panic began to set in.
No, no! Where are they, what happened to them!?
The world was condemned to silence as nothing except the overwhelming sound of my heart beating and the intensity of my breathing filled my ears. Then, above it all, I heard a faint shout, it was distant, but it was there, echoing throughout the icy corridors.
Without a second thought, I stirred into action, racing towards the junction, rushing past more of the frozen soldiers. At the head of the corridors I was met with two options: the first carried on into an identical hall, while the second was different – an orange glow met my view, just visible through an ajar ice-door. It was the only sign of anything else amidst this frozen maze, driving me to follow without any real thought for what lay beyond.
I bolted down the corridor, the roaring fire of my rekindled rage driving me on. As I hurried towards the light’s source, the atmosphere changed. Faint whispers of temptation called out to me, reverberating in the freezing stillness, while the feeling of a sinister presence grew stronger. Driven by desperation and the hope that my friends weren’t far away, I slammed the door open and stormed blindly into a dimly lit room. Only then did I realise my terrible mistake.
Chapter 14
Acrodan
My claws scraped against the ice as I skidded to an uncontrolled halt. Momentum pushed me sideways, depositing me in the centre of the large chamber, my heart racing like a storm in my chest as I stared ahead. A set of squat stairs ran from one side of the cavern to the other, its immense roof swirling upwards in an endless spiral of ice. Countless icicles and frosty pillars stretched into the upper reaches before fading into mist.
A menacing figure stood upon the frozen steps before me. Shrouded in a veil of shadow, black robes concealed the true atrocity laying beneath. A pair of sharp metal boots segmented at the ankles, disguised what I assumed were once his feet. Similarly articulated apparel covered his hands, metal gauntlets decorated with sharp segments, each one tipped with a glistening point of metal. A purple luminance seeped through every crack and shred of dark material as it billowed gently, as if caught in a non-existent breeze.
The figure slowly lifted its head from beneath the hooded veil, revealing his true human form. Despite the recognisable features, under the shadow of the cowl was not a face, but a glistening metal mask. Reflecting light in a similar manner to his gauntlets and boots, the metal substance was as black as the darkest night.
Sculpted to resemble a human face, the frightful mask expressed no emotion, its mouthpiece nothing more than a slit through which a faint purple glow seeped. Purple flames flickered from each eye socket, the luminescence unlike anything I'd seen before; no warmth or emotion to be found.
With a shifting of metal limbs, he began to move forward, gliding effortlessly on the shadowy gloom emanating from his cloak. Shifting one arm, he revealed a staff from within his robes, formed from more of the unusual metal. Four writhing ribbons unravelled from the peek, each one moving in unison with the ghostly robes, before wrapping around a core of purple light like coiling serpents. Each time my eyes looked over the ghostly evil, its bewitching veil felt like it sapped my very soul.
It's like the old stories. The nightmare spirits, or monsters that survive by drinking blood!
No matter my inner panic, the figure’s identity was unquestionable. He was unlike the mindless skeletal minions at his disposal. He was a spectre of pure power, like the old tales I'd heard of necromancers and litches. This was Acrodan, the last of the traitorous protectors, the last of the nine Dark Guardians.
The death mage's sinister approach finally halted at the edge of the steps, the shadowy base of his robes cascading down like a cursed waterfall. The mysterious orange glow that had determined my entrance illuminated the ancient betrayer from behind, giving the illusion that his shadows writhed with flame.
"Your arrival has been long
awaited," a menacing voice oozed from the mask, his tone as empty as his body and as painful to hear as a shrill scream.
Each ghostly word sank into my mind like a poisonous dagger, reverberating like the clang of a gong.
I gave no response. He's clearly been expecting me, though if he knows what I am, surely, he knows what I can do?
He raised one withered arm, pointing his sharp, protruding finger at me. No matter what power I possessed, a pulse of fear surged through me. Timid instinct forced me to freeze, each limb refusing to respond. Acrodan made a sound like dry stones grinding, which could have been a laugh.
"Nothing to say? You believe your words are but whispers to me? So strong is the arrogance of your kind, even now," he declared.
He closed his clawed hand into a fist, the sharp, metal fingers grinding against one another. The shrouded arm lowered, leaving me to stare at the hypnotic purple light of his eyes.
"Long have I waited for you, though you still believe you're safe? Confident in the lies of your false gods?" His words were broken by another gravelly laugh.
"The creators merely postponed their inevitable annihilation," he spat, sniggering to himself. "My master will soon be reborn and I, the strongest of my pathetic brethren, will be the one to unleash such devastation," he continued, raising both arms as he spoke, holding his staff aloft like a preaching prophet.
"You know of what I speak," he hissed, peering at me as his arms fell back to his side.
He knows exactly what's happening.
Surely the being that lay within the sphere’s prison had revealed to him what its enemies had told me. Seeming to sense my suspicion, he hissed a low cackle and shifted sideways to reveal the source of the orange glow.
Standing at his waist height was a rounded pedestal of ice. Beautifully engraved with glowing runes, four icy talons extended out to form a curved claw clutching what could only be one thing.
The Sphere of Eternity.
It was no larger than a man's head, its smooth surface as black as midnight, while beneath its shell a layer of cloud swirled like a fluid cloak. The strange, almost supernatural manifestation could have been mistaken for something of omnipotent origin, like a miniature thunderstorm trapped in glass. The sight drained all emotion, compelling me by some unknown temptation to stare into the dark innards, its allure overwhelming my senses, forcing me to peer deeper.
I lost all recognition of the world around me. Silence surrounded everything until a distant, ghostly voice broke through my consciousness. Speaking in hushed tones beyond my understanding, without meaning, the words drawing me ever closer.
The swirling clouds moved frantically until a burning red glow discharged like lightning through a storm, flickering within the depths of the dark prison until they could hold it no longer. The shrouded veil tore apart violently, revealing an intense glow mushrooming across its surface, consuming the original emanation until it was indistinguishable from the raging storm.
Consumed by the image, fear grew to terror, terror to horror, the feeling hitting me like a wall of burning lava as it drew me deeper. My emotions repeatedly wrestled with its seductive grasp, only to be thwarted by the strength of its irresistible lure. I watched motionless as the sphere's icy pillar boiled and spat, before melting into a streaming waterfall and finally evaporating to steam.
"Enough!" I shouted as my rage erupted, shattering the sphere's devilish hold and tore my eyes from the inferno.
It was all an illusion, nothing more than a vision, a view into the dark prison of which the Ethereal spoke. In my enraged state my mind raced, heart rate and breathing increased as blood surged like wildfire through my veins. Acrodan loomed menacingly on his icy summit, now surrounded by several undead soldiers.
Just how long was I staring into the sphere?
"My master has plans for this world, you have seen only a glimpse of the order that oblivion will bring. He knows of your return, the return of one who would defy him." He glanced at the sphere, before rumbling.
"The creators may think they rule here, they are false, traitorous fiends unable to see the truth. This time they stand unable to fight, and instead they send only a fraction of themselves to my master's presence."
Acrodan pointed to me with his iron-clad hand, making me realise, that in my sudden burst of rage, I'd unwillingly transformed into a flaming form. The burning white glow struck no fear into the hearts of my icy foes. Their empty husks had lost that sense long ago.
'False?’ ‘Truth?’ ‘Traitors?’ ‘Fraction of themselves?' More unanswered questions.
My fiery eyes released their lock from his fluorescent gaze, moving across his shrouded body, searching for any weakness. He appeared delighted at the sight of his new adversary, and despite his inability to express it, the emotion was detectable in his voice.
"The true guardian of ancient times, the unstoppable weapon of the creators, their greatest sacrifice," he slavered, his menacing laugh mocking me as he finished. "You blind yourself with such lies – you have no idea. You are a fool, and in your foolishness, you have been led here. Your skills have been tested, your will pushed to its limit, just as my master intended."
How have I been led here? And why? He sent monsters to kill me surely…
It took a few moments to realise they had planned this all along. They didn’t want to attack me in the woods, they just wanted Tarwin. They hadn't wanted to kill me on the journey, they were testing me.
She's the bait and I took it, but why?
The answer came all too soon.
"Only one of ethereal kind may open the sphere, and my master has waited so very long." Acrodan pointed to the dark object. "You have done just as he predicted, but still stand before his might with some pathetic hope of salvation."
His words pierced like a poisonous blade driven into any hope I had left. His glaring eyes settled on me, the sinister flames almost shivering with pride as their master laughed.
"Finally, after eight hundred years, the world will know my power. Last of the guardians, survivor, victor…"
Thoughts came so fast. What to do? What to say?
"I'll never open it!" I shouted. "It's a lie, that thing tricked you, all of you. You don't know what's in there!" I continued, trying in vain to appeal to the long-lost shell of the man he'd once been.
He peered at me, and with his blazing eyes settling I thought he’d considered listening. That was until the flames flared, and he snorted a cackle.
"My master has promised me the keys to eternity, a world as I see fit. Only through the darkness can the true light be seen. Only through cruelty can order truly be restored."
He clenched his metal fist, preaching to me like everything I'd ever been told was a lie. Stretching out his withered hand, he pointed to something behind me. Every one of my emotions told me not to turn, not to take my eyes off him, even so I couldn't help myself; inevitably my gaze followed the crooked limb.
"My master is not so blind as to expect no resistance. The heart of a god is not easily swayed, but then, you are no true god; you have real heart, a weakness not shared by your brethren." As he concluded my eyes came to rest on the heart-stopping sight.
A sight worse than any monster or dark illusion. 'A weakness not shared.'
Held in the grasp of three soldiers, with Blizarium knives pressed against their soft-scaled throats, were my friends. The grip of the un-dead captors seemed to be stronger than I'd experienced, and their new weapons were much sharper.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I inwardly cried, directing the words at imaginary targets within my mind.
What's all this power worth, I can't get to them before the undead kill them?
My head dropped in shame as my eyes jumped hopelessly from face to face, each one held in the bony grasp of the emotionless soldiers. Ember and Boltock appeared shocked to see me with burning-white scales. While Risha looked at me with no such trepidation.
"Let them go!" I demanded, swinging round to face Acrodan. "Or
, or…" I cried wildly, searching frantically for anything I could ransom.
"Or I'll destroy it!" I shouted, pointing at the dark sphere with my glowing wing.
Acrodan rose up, peering down in foreboding silence. "Such action from an ethereal being would only result in opening the sphere."
His emotionless voice became frustratingly arrogant.
"It seems those of ancient times couldn't protect you from the one thing they could never truly understand; compassion," he continued, relishing his mockery of the gods.
"The risks they took have inevitably brought their ruin, for the life they gave could never be navigated alone."
All this power, and I'm brought down because of feelings?
Shame forced me to bow my head as the overwhelming misery doused my passion. There was nothing I could do to save them. I couldn't move fast enough to break them free, nor could I fight without increasing the risk of losing them, and I couldn't run without abandoning them entirely. My aggression faded, extinguished by the realisation that I'd failed from the start.
"Open the seal! Your heart has defeated you and so foolishly sealed your fate," Acrodan demanded. "Do it or I'll have them slain where they stand!"
I didn’t care for his threats. My eyes slowly turned upward to gaze upon his corrupt majesty.
We're going to die either way, whether it be by his twisted will or the monster within the sphere.
"No!” Risha called out from behind me. "No, don't do it, don't listen!"
I didn’t have the strength to turn as her desperate plea mixed with the muffled sounds of more voices joining her cries. Even now they were willing to risk everything, but I had no choice. I’d come all this way to save my friend, and I'd not lose those I’d made along the way.
Acrodan peered down with a merciless glare. To him, I was a god crawling pathetically at his feet, the ultimate victory, far more than he'd ever achieved in his ancient war with mere beasts and mortals.