by J D Dench
As a police officer, Matias went by the name Mathew Carter. His background story is that he was a legal citizen who moved to New York from Southern Canada to be with his sick mother and support his sister, who he pretended Kayla was to avoid suspicions. There were limited records on him, which he had planted through various connections, so nobody could call him a liar.
His partner was Eli Hunter, a young twenty-four year old who was new to the force but also a native to the streets of Peekskill. He was clean shaven with long locks of caramel colored hair that he tucked into his hat. For being so young, he had large dreams to stop serious crimes he saw on the news and become a hero to the state. From his reputation at the academy, Matias believed he could make serious changes.
“Why do we always get the small calls?” he complained, taking a long sip of his coffee. Matias shrugged as they pulled up to the entrance of the graveyard. The street lights were on, but any signs of light in the graveyard were gone. The entire place might as well have been pitch darkness.
“Who knows, Hunt, but we gotta job to do. Let’s get the lights out, do a quick search and call it closed. Alright?”
“Yeah,” he answered, finishing off his cup. He dropped it on the ground of the passenger seat and opened his door. “Let’s hurry this up. Graveyards gimme the creeps.”
“Why?” Matias got out of the car, reaching for the flashlight at his waist as he walked toward the gates. His hand grazed along the Hammer that was tucked into the back of his belt. The gates were already ajar, throwing up Matias’ guard. He hid it well and continued speaking to Eli. “Something about the bodies scare you?”
“Of course not!” Eli’s cracking voice gave him away. He was as bad at lying as Kayla. “I just don’t wanna trip and get hurt over a gravestone, y’know?”
Matias grunted in response. That was his way of answering while also telling Eli it was time to stop talking. They both clicked on their flashlights, walking through the maze of gravestones with ease. There were no sounds to guide them toward any breaking in. Maybe someone just forgot to lock up, Matias thought to himself. He swept his light across the right side of their path while Eli swept the left.
The graveyard was well maintained with beautiful gravestones and incredible work keeping the grass green as a leaf. Many graves had a bundle of fresh flowers sitting on top of the dirt that covered up the bodies of loved ones. Matias admired how much respect the people of the town took in their dead. Where he was from, there were no graves. The dead were left as they were so they could continue as they were meant to be.
It took about thirty minutes to reach the other end of the gates to the graveyard. When they reached the other end, Matias turned to Eli. “See anything?” Eli shook his head. “Me neither. Just another prank call I guess. Let’s get outta here.”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Eli replied with a grin. His light clicked off, and Matias heard him smack it against his hand a couple of times. “Hey, what the Hell man? My light just died.”
“Just follow me.” Matias stepped into the center of the path and guided him toward the front gates. The walk out was as easy as the walk in. The path led them straight out, guiding them around the graves sticking from the Earth.
Matias heard Eli breathing heavy. Once they were out, Eli ran past Matias, his breaths heavier. “What’s wrong with you?” Matias stopped outside the gates and watched Eli gasping for air near the car. “There’s nothing in there, man.”
“I told you, I hate graveyards!” He looked down and barfed up his coffee. “I saw the hands reaching for me, man. Calling my name. I don’t do dead bodies, let alone in the dark man. Saw my mum again. Saw her cold, dead eyes.”
Eli kept muttering about hands reaching for him. Matias turned away from him when he heard a faint sound. Closing his eyes, he waited for the sound again. Eli’s muttering threw off his concentration.
“Shut up a minute,” he ordered. Eli fell silent. Matias closed his eyes harder, holding his breath. Waiting.
And then there it was again. The sound of stone grinding against stone. It came from the direction of the gate, just where Matias and Eli had left from. Matias clicked on his light again and pointed it through the gate. He took a couple of steps inside and shined the light around.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Matias shined the lights at the statues made of stone around the graves. Many represented angels or characters from the modern human religions. Except for one that caught his eye. It had a strangely shaped head with two horns slanting toward the sky growing from its forehead. It’s wings were folded at its side, arms extending outward.
Matias recognized the form this statue took on, but it was something from his world. There was no way it could be here. “That’s a flying imp,” he said under his breath.
“So it is,” a foreign voice said behind him. Matias spun around, shining the flashlight into the eyes of a second imp statue. Standing inches behind him. It was exactly the same as the other one, only with blood on its cheeks.
“There’s two of you,” Matias said quietly, his face going pale. “How could you be here? And that blood…did you kill the children that were here?”
The statue stepped back, the once stone eyes now clearing into a dull green. Matias knew what these two were. It was impossible, yet it was the only explanation. They were not statues or flying imps. They were Demonic entities of the rarest sort, hardly seen even in his own world.
Gargoyles could take on any form, but they were always made into monsters. They were made with Demonic spirits bound into stone. They were incredibly powerful and fast at night, but they could do nothing by daylight.
“Me?” The Demon held a hand up to its chest, showing off its strong claws to Matias. “No, my brother killed the kids.”
Matias turned and saw the other statue take a step toward him, the same green coming over its eyes. “And don’t worry how we got here. You won’t live long enough to learn much.”
Matias took a look at the blood again. And then it clicked in his head. The silence of the night. The lack of muttering. “Eli,” he said as he stared at the first gargoyle. It smiled and licked at its cheek with a long tongue, like that of a serpent.
“Sarozz, you talk too much,” hissed the gargoyle standing behind Matias. “Let’s just kill him like boss wants!”
“You’re so impatient, Umin, it’s no wonder nobody wants to play with you.”
The gargoyle in front of Matias, Sarozz, raised its arms. The sharp claws on its fingers swiped down quickly and without warning. Matias was barely able to fall out of the way and roll to the side to avoid a second attack. Some of the claws cut into his forearm, and Matias could feel the fresh blood trickling down his arm.
“Get him Sarozz!” shouted Umin
Matias pushed to his feet and sprinted past Sarozz. When Matias had moved out of the way, the gargoyle had been thrown off balance and was having a hard time gathering himself. When Matias ran through the gate, he remembered his gun and snatched it up, placing carefully aimed shots at the gargoyle right where its green eyes illuminated the night. But the bullets simply bounced off Sarozz’ stoned face, the gunshots echoing into the brisk night air.
“Too loud! Finish him quickly!” Umin growled.
“Yes, brother.” Sarozz extended his wings and used them to project himself forward, flying at Matias with incredible speed. He extended his claws and aimed them at Matias’ throat.
“You’re mine now!” he yelled, but at the very last second Matias spun aside. The claws ripped open his shirt and cut into his chest. Matias lost the grip on his gun and lost it in the darkness. His shirt was torn away from his body.
Sarozz couldn’t slow himself and slammed loudly into the car. With a snarl, he pushed the car aside, stomped hard into the ground, and opened his wings wide again, ignoring the deafening sound of the car alarm. “I never miss twice.”
I am here, a familiar and warm voice muttered into the back of Matias’ mind. I will fight with you.
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Matias reached behind him and felt the handle of the Hammer sticking out of the back of his belt. When they had come to Kayla’s world, the Hammer had shrunken down and been silent. Matias thought that maybe the last portal had been the remainder of Hamerst’s power, but just in case he wrapped the Hammer in a black cloth and kept it on him at all times. When people asked about it, he claimed it was the last thing he had from his father.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Matias admitted, his voice as silent as the wind around him to avoid being heard. “I hope you’re ready.”
The claws of Sarozz’s feet dug into the concrete as he pushed himself forward, the wings opening and claws aiming for Matias’ throat once more. And just a sliver of a second before Matias would have been dead, he swung the handle of the Hammer forward and watched in amazement as the Hammer broke free of the black cloth, growing ten times in size, and slammed into the left side of the gargoyle’s face. A sickening crack erupting in the following silence, and Matias watched as Sarozz’ head cracked open, leaking a dull green light. And following the head’s lead, the rest of the gargoyle cracked and fell apart, falling to the ground.
That’s the weakness of a gargoyle. They have powerful armor of stone, but one crack and they fall apart, releasing the soul back to the Demon Lands.
Matias spun his Hammer a couple of times, testing the familiar weight rest easy in his hands. “Now, I have questions for you,” Matias said loudly, turning to face Umin.
But Umin was nowhere to be seen. Matias looked up just in time to see a dark purple sphere appear in the sky and, just as suddenly, vanish, leaving nothing but the darkness behind it.
I know where that portal is going, Matias, Hamerst told him.
They were in the back of the coffee shop in Zae’s workshop. Zae had been silent the past two hours, and Kayla wondered how on Earth she managed to keep this coffee shop running when she spent so much time back here lost in her own world. Not a word had been muttered between the two of them, but Kayla didn’t dare interfere with Zae’s work or even look at it.
Finally, Zae dropped her brush, wiped the back of her paint covered hand across her forehead, and smiled wide at Kayla. “Finished,” she said, gesturing for Kayla to take a look.
Kayla groaned as her muscles ached in pain, but she climbed to her feet and stood behind Zae. For a second, she looked at the painting and didn’t take in what it was. And then, she rubbed her eyes hard and stared in amazement at a perfectly painted replica of the Elven Kingdom. Even the Palace was perfect, down to the last detail. And standing in front of the gate were two figures. Kayla leaned in close and saw Liz and Rizza kissing in front of the gate.
“How….how did you…” Kayla couldn’t spit the words out. “Don’t miss the best part,” Zae told her, pointing up toward the castle. In one of the windows was a painting of Matias, and in the other was Kayla. They were holding the Sword and Hammer.
Before Kayla could say anything, Zae stood up and pointed Kayla toward where she had been sitting. “Demons? Elves? Dwarves? Kayla, I’ve met a lot of artists in my day. Especially writers. They create worlds and names and places and weapons and things. They take a blob and form it into a perfect item that impacts their story…well, usually.
“But you? I’ve known you. You’re smart. Clever. Crafty. You can find your way through anything. But you don’t have the imagination to create these fantastical beings and people. So I put two and two together, Kayla. And you might think I’m nuts if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I’m wrong. “This story you’re writing. These nightmares. Your boyfriend, ‘Matt’, or Matias. All of this is true, isn’t it?”
Zae’s eyes sparkled like something out of this world. Kayla couldn’t believe the words she was hearing. “You were a hero. You faced Demons. You faced assassins. You even faced your own lover and defeated him. Am I wrong?”
Kayla didn’t say a word. She stared at Zae in wonder and impossibility. Her hands were tingling from numbness as she squeezed them hard together. She searched the corners of her mind to find the words to say to her but couldn’t find them. She felt her blood beginning to boil as she looked at Zae’s expression. Her hand touched where the Sword was hidden.
She doesn’t get it.
“What do you want from me, Zae?” Kayla couldn’t think straight and was barely able to communicate at all. “That fighting Demons was fun and that saving the world was the greatest thing ever? Because the entire time I was trapped there, I wasn’t really having fun. And coming back was supposed to solve everything, but all it did was make things worse! Fighting Demons and assassins and my own ex-lover was easy compared to the daily struggle of regret and depression and cabin fever. I feel bad every day for leaving Liz alone right after her own lover died in my battle. And it was my battle, because it was Tony that caused it all. And I have to wonder every day if he was persuaded to the Demons through greed or if I pushed him there because I fell in love with a masked man that saved my life.
“And how stupid was I to fall in love with a stranger in a strange land just because he saved me? I had everything I wanted here! And I let it go. And every day I wonder if I moved on too fast. And if that’s what killed Tony. Not that he lost me, but that he lost me and someone else had me. Did I fuel his anger? Did I make him into the monster he became, Zae?”
Kayla’s vision had filled with darkness as she let out everything on her mind. She realized she had asked the question to Zae and actually expected a response. She realized she had shut her eyes. She reached up and touched her cheeks that were covered in tears. Zae’s eyes were wide, but for the first time Kayla felt like someone was listening.
“Did I do everything wrong, Zae? Did I kill Tony? Did I drive him away? Did I create the Demon King, and did I cost Rizza and countless others their lives? Did I kill all of Olap’s friends?”
Kayla took a deep breath and felt her shoulders shaking violently. The breath escaped her lungs slowly as she finally settled down. For a moment, Zae didn’t say a thing. She took a breath, and Kayla could almost see her thoughts racing as she struggled for the words to speak.
“Kayla, you were somewhere you didn’t expect to be while surrounded by creatures you didn’t know existed in a war you didn’t ask to be involved in all in order to fulfill a prophecy you didn’t prepare for in any way. You were dragged into the most hopeless of situations, and you were guided through it by your friends, lover, and a spirit of sorts. You did what you needed to do to survive and learned to trust others on your journey.
“Meanwhile, Tony was in the same spot but had nothing to guide him but kidnappers and Demons. He never really trusted the Dwarves, and he was never in a position to trust his surroundings to start with. He didn’t even trust the Dwarves enough to imagine they would be coming after him to save him. So you ask me, do I think it’s your fault that Tony turned evil? That Tony became a Demon? No. In fact, I think if the roles had been switched, you may very well have become a Demon yourself and fought alongside that woman you and Matias had to kill together.”
“No,” Kayla said simply. “I wouldn’t have. Only a selfish person would have given into the power of the Demon King. The Demon King is full of hatred and greed.”
“Kayla, look at it from Tony’s perspective for a second. He was given visions of losing you, so that’s what he felt. He was given visions of the Dwarves failing to save him, and the assassins constantly threatened to kill him and even killed people he cared about. He was being fueled with anger and hatred towards everything and was fed the lie that killing solves everything.”
She took Kayla’s hand and softly rubbed it with her thumb. “It wasn’t selfishness that made him a Demon. It was giving in to the role that he was told he was meant to play. This is life. We all have roles to play. But we discover our own roles. We can’t take on the roles we are told to take on. Unfortunately, Tony couldn’t find his role. He was too lost. But you would your role, and you played it brilliantly, it seems.”
Kayla could
n’t say anything back to Zae. She couldn’t understand. She wasn’t there. Kayla chewed over her words and just hoped that someday she could forgive herself for what she may have done to Tony.
“And Liz?” Kayla asked with raised eyebrows. “I left her without a word after the death of Rizza. What do I do about that? How do I forgive myself for that?”
“You can’t ask corpses for forgiveness, Kay,” Zae said as she stood back to her feet. “But Liz is no corpse. Or, at least, from what I know. So you have time to make your peace. The real question is, is this who Kayla is? Is this the role you play? Or is there still more that we have yet to see?”
Chapter Three
The Elven Kingdom, ruled single-handedly by Liz now, had a new group of warriors at their disposal after peace was established between themselves and the Dwarves. While Elves were efficient at stealth, long ranged attacks, and were graceful with close ranged attacks, they had one serious weakness that kept them even with the Dwarves.. Their attacks were meant to be graceful, planned, and perfect. There was no room for error in the way Elves fought. Any slight hesitation led to a counter-attack that often proved fatal. Elven combat was made to be a string of attacks, so any slip up meant there was a gaping hole for the enemy to attack. And they were often predictable if their opponent observed their technique long enough.
Elves had a second serious weakness: they were incapable of tapping into that adrenalin that keeps mortals alive or using dirty tricks to win a fight. Perfect precision led far in a fight, but sometimes the old throwing dirt in the eyes trick still won. And a final essential weakness was that Elves were never trained to fight unarmed.
Luckily for Liz, Olap delivered a solution to these problems. Being a Dwarf, now known as the Dwarf for battling alongside Kayla and Matias in what had widely become known as The Battle of Ashes, Olap was able to bring to the Elves a group of Dwarves prepared to learn the ways in which Elves battled. In exchange, the Dwarves would teach Elves their methods of combat. While Elves would gracefully move around their opponents and pick away at their armor, Dwarves were more hands-on in their battle technique by running straight at their opponent and bashing away their shields and armor. Dwarves also learned to use their size to their advantage by learning how small of targets they actually were. Dwarves could easily dodge most attacks with slight movements, leaving their attacker wide open to a counter attack. Also, Dwarven combat was taught at a young age with no weapons. Dwarves learned to strike wherever they could, rather than wait for the perfect opening, and could use a crossbow as efficiently as a rock on the ground.
