by RG Long
“What in the name of the gods!?” screamed the young man.
David lifted his eyes to see him, for the first time, and take in the face of the man he would slaughter. The face that met him was no older than he was. In his mind, he had imagined a man, but this was a boy turned hard by the road. Perhaps it was his father who lay groaning several paces away?
Of course, David didn’t care. He only desired to kill. To save his mother. To appease the goddess of blood.
He swung out with his ax again, but this time, instead of meeting flesh, his blade met steel. The boy had drawn a sword. David frowned at this. Whenever they fought back, it always turned out worse.
Skidding against the gravel, the boy took up a fighting stance. David barely paid it attention. His hand tightened over the handle of his ax once more, preparing for the strike.
With three swipes of his blade, he had taken the sword from the boy’s hand. With another swipe of his elbow, he had thrown the boy a span into the air. With a final slam of his hand, he sent the boy colliding into the ground.
It had all happened in an instant. David saw the cold sweat on the boy's face. He felt the fear emanating from his body.
“What the hell are you!?” the boy screamed from the ground, his forehead bleeding and one eye closed. He held up a hand, perhaps in a vain attempt to stop David’s killing blow.
Nothing would prevent him from saving his mother’s life.
Nothing at all.
“Useless,” David answered.
The crunch that followed the swing of his ax echoed along the path. The stillness returned to the area, just as eerie as before. David looked down at his weapon. It had broken in two in this last fight. He dropped it.
Graxxin whispered into his ear, or at least it’s what it felt like to David. He had never seen her in person. He didn’t need to. She was his master. He was her servant.
“Bleed him,” she ordered, her voice reverberating in his skull. “He still has enough life in him to appease my wrath.”
“Yes,” David replied, hating himself and the task. “For the Blood Goddess, I will serve.”
4: Wounded
Snart was licking his wounds with his forked tongue. Several of his Veiled Ones warriors were doing the same. Some had lost limbs in the vicious attack, while others had fared only slightly less worse.
Now that the bloodlust had gone out of his system, Snart was trying to figure out what obsession had overcome him in the moments before attacking the human camp. They had sought to sneak up on the humans and attack them little by little. Yet he, like all the rest of his warriors, had been overcome by an insatiable desire to kill and eat.
Not that he was complaining. They had been able to kill many men and fill their bellies on their flesh. But the victory seemed hollow. He had lost so many of his Veiled Ones. Their numbers were greatly diminished.
The humans hadn’t put up as much of a fight. The Veiled Ones had caught them off guard and were able to feast long before any resistance could be put up by the men of Isol and their terrible speakers.
No, the issue had been the great beasts who came after that. Swinging weapons of fire and steel, their purple flames had decimated the ranks of Veiled Ones who were so focused on eating that they didn’t see the great danger they were in.
Snart had only just woken up out of his bloodlust when a great, four-legged beast landed next to him and his guards. With one swing of its mighty blade, the entire group had been laid to waste.
All but for Snart.
This encouraged him in a way. It was a sign that he and he alone was supposed to lead the Veiled Ones. But now that they were so diminished, who would he lead? And how would he fulfill what he had promised his faithful followers?
If he couldn’t deliver, they may turn on him.
The thought filled his mind as he licked the wound on his left arm. He was grateful for the blood. It had been what had taken him out of his hunger. A man with a spear had sliced his flesh, causing him to howl in rage and wake from the desire to kill.
He had stared up into the eyes of the terrible beast. For a moment, only a moment, he had been too terrified to move. The four-legged creature was as tall as a house. In one hand it could’ve quickly picked up Snart and crushed him to dust. In a blink, Snart had turned himself invisible with the gift of his people and darted underneath the creature before it could swing it at him again.
The blood of his companions was still wet on him as he fled.
Those who had survived escaped to a nearby network of caves and tunnels. Whether or not the humans or monstrous beasts knew about these caves did not matter to Snart. All he wanted to do was hide and think of their next move.
Movement out of the side of his eye told him that he was not the only one contemplating the next steps of their congregation. As quick as a flash Snart picked up his spear and hurled it at the Veiled One who had been attempting to sneak up on him. The blue lizard let out a streak of pain, dropping both of its spears as it tried fruitlessly to pull the projectile out of its chest.
With one last ragged breath, it fell to the ground in a heap.
Using his good hand, Snart picked himself up off the ground and looked around at the glowing rimstone and eyes that found him in the dark.
“Snart, “he said as loud as he could. “Boss boss!“
The call was not returned with enthusiasm.
“Boss, bosssss.” came the lackluster reply.
Snart knew this was not the call of loyal followers. That was the answer of lizards who would instead follow any of their number other than him. And if he valued his life, he needed to show them that he was worth supporting.
He slinked over to the lizard who had come to attack him and pulled his spear from its chest. The dead body flinched at this disruption. Snart dared not take his eyes off the lizards who were seated all around the dark cavern. Who would be the next that would try to take a bit of his flesh with him?
Snart flexed his good hand and knew that he had to show them something worth following. The rimstones woven into his vest began to glow with a blue, shaking light. Several lizards hissed at the sight of this light in the dark cave. Some began to move away from the sight of it. Others put claws on their own spears, unsure of what Snart was going to do.
Good. He needed them to be afraid of him.
He moved around the cave, jabbing with his spear and clutching his fist even tighter. As he did so, the intensity of his glow grew brighter and brighter. He felt a pang of hunger in his gut, but he ignored it. It was helping his cause.
“Snart!” he yelled out as loud as he could. “Boss, bosssss!”
With the last word, he jabbed his fist at a lizard who was taking a few steps closer to him. From his fist, a blast of light flew like a spear at the lizard. It hit the blue lizard square in the stomach. The cave went dark just as the lizard divided into two.
Screeches and hisses from the congregation as a whole filled the cavern. Snart himself took a step back, at a loss at his power. Then again, he was meant to be the Veiled One's ruler.
Wasn’t this his right?
He made a fist again, and his vest erupted in blue light. This time, no Veiled Ones came forward to challenge him. He looked at them out of the corner of their eyes. Their spears and weapons lay at their sides. He knew he had it now.
Their fear.
“We have eaten man flash!“ Snart shouted. “We will grow stronger!“
He looked around the tunnel and his followers. They were too few. But there had to be more Veiled Ones somewhere. They had come from the mountains in the south. Were there any of their kind in these mountains of the north?
"We will seek out these caves," he said pointing with his spear over the heads of the lizards. "We will find more Veiled Ones. Those who have tunneled deep in the cold, cold."
It was a plan. Not the best, but potentially one that would save Snart's life. Those who had escaped the battle had at least tasted the fresh meat that could be eaten wi
th more victories. If they could find more Veiled Ones, they could mount another assault upon demand.
Snart balled up his claw again.
And with this power that he would grow within him, Snart would need these new Veiled Ones to follow him.
He was strong. He was a leader. He was Snart of the Veiled Ones.
Stepping forward, he motioned with his free claw that they should follow him deep into the caves. He did not know how far down they went, or what they would find there. It didn’t matter.
Whatever beast or monster they located, it would serve him and him alone.
He was Snart.
He was boss boss.
5: Back Again
The night air chilled him enough to stir a small shudder from him. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold in the fall, but perhaps that was just how the landscape around the north of Ladis worked. Restless bugs chirped at the night sky, which had only just begun to show its moons through dark clouds.
He crouched with a group of people hidden just outside the massive city walls, looking towards a familiar sight.
“I thought we just escaped from here, ya know?” Tratta said as their party looked up at the bleak city walls of Meris.
Their party had positioned themselves behind a clumping of large boulders, hoping that they would be shielded enough by the rocks as to not be seen by any guard who spent too long observing the plains outside the city. They made for an odd bunch.
“Kind of like going back to the pan after jumpin’ out of the fire, huh?” Maccus mused.
Ealrin had to agree that there was a certain amount of irony that they were considering sneaking back into the city they had only recently made their way out of. Then again, as with most of their adventures, plans changed when new information came to light.
The fact that the princes of Juttis and Meris both seemed to be caught in an alliance of sorts with the demons who they had fought on several occasions made things difficult. That was why they needed Holve. He would be able to tell them what was going on and why it was happening the way that it was. He would be able to let them know what happens when a man gives himself to the demons from the Dark Comet.
If only he had told them sooner.
Ealrin caught himself thinking that last thought more and more as they ran from Juttis and the impending demon invasion that seemed to be just behind them. Streaks of purple had burst from the comet just as they had fled the city. They all were concentrated on Juttis, though some flew out ahead of them. If the demons really were cascading down from above, they needed all the help, and information, they could get.
And so they had decided they needed Holve more than risking letting him get himself out of jail.
If he was still alive.
That particular notion didn’t stay with Ealrin for long. The old man had evaded death more times than Ealrin could count. And if any of the stories he had heard about him on Ladis were true, it seemed Ealrin had a long list of other times to catch up on.
“Well if you’re so familiar with this place, surely you can get us in and out without any issues,” MIss Rivius said pointedly. Ealrin glanced back at her and Master Ferrin, the bodyguard she had insisted come along with them.
They made for an odd group.
Maccus and Tratta had escaped from Meris with them, after pretending to kidnap them. That still didn’t make sense to Ealrin, but he trusted Holve’s word. Plus, they had helped them escape with Gregory, a rather grim man who had worked for Holve in a time before this. Then there was Olma, the girl they had found amidst the wreckage of another city lost to Isol.
Adding them to their original group from Ruyn of himself, Blume and Jurrin, seemed like an odd combination.
Especially Miss Rivius.
Ealrin was curious why she had come. It could have easily been said of her that the insurgent group she had harbored had no relation to her whatsoever. That she had been taken in and was repentant of her apparent crimes.
But she had refused any such reasonings. Instead, she had made up her mind to attend to their group and come with them. For maternal reasons, she had said, looking at Blume, Jurrin, and Olma, then at Gregory, the oldest of their group, disdainfully, as if he should be ashamed of himself for allowing such young ones to travel through such dangerous lands.
Gregory had shrugged his assent, and Tratta voiced her objections.
“I’m more than capable of being maternal, ya know!” she had complained.
Miss Rivius wouldn’t have it.
Ealrin thought the whole thing was ridiculous and not worth arguing about. If Miss Rivius wanted to come trekking back down to another hostile city and put herself in danger, that was on her. He wasn’t the leader.
Not really.
“What do you think, Ealrin?” Gregory asked, catching him off guard.
Ealrin looked over toward the gruff man and realized he had been thinking of a plan, whether anyone asked him about it or not. He let out a sigh.
“Well,” he started, realizing that everyone was turning to face him. “I seem to remember a certain one of our members making a rather large hole in a dungeon.”
IT DIDN’T TAKE THEM long to make their way to the edge of the city where Blume had decimated the dungeon. They could see the castle’s tall peaks peering out over the wall and the guards who walked alongside it. It didn’t seem any more heavily guarded than the rest of the wall.
Ealrin was at the very least pleased with the fact that there wasn’t a more substantial guard presence. They had caused quite a stir.
“What’s that over there?” Blume asked, pointing towards a spot beyond the wall. Ealrin tried to find the point she indicated and realized that the city of Meris was glowing. Not a sickly purple glow of the demons, but it was orange.
And then the smell hit him.
“What’s on fire, I wonder?” he asked no one in particular.
“I do not like it,” Gregory said grimly. Ealrin turned to look at the older man and nodded.
“It could just be something close to the castle. Burning waste or...”
“That’s not like Meris,” Maccus interjected. “They don’t go burnin’ things unnecessarily. You’ve seen how much wood for fuel they have. It’s too late to have torches goin’, and it looks like it’s getting brighter.”
At just that moment, the guards on top of the walls began to assemble. It looked very much to Ealrin that something was going on down in the city that was concerning to them. Most of the soldiers ran out of sight, while only two appeared to guard a very long stretch of wall.
“I don’t think we’ll get a better chance than that, ya know?” Tratta said, looking up at the wall and rubbing her hands together.
“We don’t know what’s going on in there,” Ealrin cautioned. He felt odd about the whole situation. “It could be any number of worse scenarios.”
“Worse than sneaking back into a city that already tried to lock you up?” Tratta asked.
At that very moment, a shout rose up from inside the castle walls. It wasn’t just the shouting of one or two, but Ealrin was quite sure it was the shouting of a chorus of people. Whether it was the guards who had descended the castle walls or the residents, Meris was apparently in an uproar.
“Looks like we already have our diversion,” Miss Rivius said. “What now?”
6: Break Out
Gregory had taken the time to acquire a rope before leaving Juttis, and this one piece of equipment proved to be their doorway into the city. Whatever commotion was going on inside the walls had distracted enough of the guards to allow them to climb up along a buttress of the defenses without being spotted.
At least, Ealrin hoped no one was watching them, as he put hand over hand and climbed the rope as quickly as he could. Blume and Olma followed Maccus and Gregory. Then Jurrin climbed right before Ealrin. Tratta, Rivius, and Ferrin would be the last up the wall.
He scraped his knee along the rough stones as he tried his best to climb the cursed rope. If Blume co
uld do it, in her weakened state and after being so drained in Juttis, then surely he could. Their travels had included so many acts of skill and strength that he thought he would be able to climb a silly rope.
The challenge was harder than he had anticipated.
“Just one hand over another, Mister Ealrin!” Jurrin called over his shoulder. Ealrin looked up at the halfling and was frustrated at how high he had managed to climb in such a short time. He was almost to the top of the wall, while Ealrin struggled in the middle.
He let out a grunt of frustration, before using his feet to try to find some hold in the stones. Ealrin found a footing and, using the rope to pull as he put his feet outward, he discovered that the task became easier.
Slightly easier, in any case.
He was panting heavily when he finally reached the top of the wall. Gregory helped him over before turning to assist Miss Rivius and Ferrin, who both climbed up quickly after he did.
“Just a quick challenge before the real fight begins, I suppose,” Miss Rivius said.
“Yes, Ma’am!” Ferrin echoed as they hopped over the stone wall and stood with the rest of the group. Miss Rivius didn’t even look winded.
Ealrin found this more frustrating than he cared to admit. Perhaps the journey had taxed him more than he wanted to acknowledge. Maybe the lack of food, shelter, and a good night’s sleep anywhere was beginning to do damage to his body.
No, he decided. He wasn't that soft. He would pull through.
Looking over at Blume and Olma, who were both staring over the castle wall to the city below, he decided he wouldn’t let the aching in his feet and arms bother him. Not at the moment, anyway.
“What’s going on down there?” he asked the two girls. It took a breath or two, but he then realized there had been silence between them. They hadn’t been speaking to one another, which seemed odd to him. They were so close in age that maybe, he thought, they might become friends and be a comfort to one another.
