Angels and Elves- Act I

by William Collins

  It was how he’d set up the previous ambush, but this time there’d be no fake story cover up. Lok would sneak from this world and back with no one being the wiser. As far as Veneseron was concerned, he was busy on his own mission when Arantay died.

  As the symbol he’s drawn burned into the ground and faded, Lok donned his Venator armour. He unhooked the Rambrace at his belt and activated it, before hurrying through the portal, off to kill another old friend.

  *

  Arantay sat outside the tent, stoking their small fire. They’d needed the warmth, and the flames to cook their dinner, but the fire couldn’t have been big enough to spot. Although they’d camped high on the cliff-face, they could never be too careful.

  His mission companions, Iris and Trystan, were already asleep as Tay took the first watch.

  He stood up now and paced to the cliff’s edge, gazing at the giant canyon directly below. The stratified rock stretched all around him for miles upon miles. Their cliff looked over the biggest canyon, whilst much smaller gorges surrounded it. Their mission was to wait at these co-ordinates for the mages to arrive.

  A spy had passed the details to Veneseron’s mission monitors, how a group of renegade mages planned to take over the world of Gylen by letting a horde of demons invade it.

  The spy had revealed to them the mages meeting place, but not the exact time they planned to do it.

  It was quiet in the canyons all around, except for the bleating of a lone trycorn goat. Arantay knew he shouldn’t leave his post, but the goat’s cries of fear struck a cord with him. The poor thing was stuck inside one of the mini canyons, it would starve if it couldn’t get out. The goat was only a few hundred metres away. He could get it out in no time.

  Arantay jogged down the slope, his boots crunching on the orange stone. The goat was in a canyon that resembled a crater. Tay used his elf-given dexterity to jump into the canyon and then slide down the sheer wall until he reached the bottom.

  The trycorn goat went silent as he landed. The animal was similar to a goat from Earth, only it had three black horns on its head and was covered in shaggy green hair. Arantay used his Elfpire ability to calm the creature, before scooping it up in his arms and proceed to climb back out of the crater.

  As he set the goat down on the cliff and it scurried away, Arantay felt a prickle of unease. He caught their scent before he saw them.

  Tay whirled to find a dozen helmed Rakarn standing further down the cliffface, but his eyes went to the one sitting on the rock.

  His legs swung idly as over the rock’s ledge as the boy grinned at him. “You were right,” was all Lok said, his expression unnaturally happy.

  “No,” Tay muttered slowly. “I suspected something, not this. Had I known, I’d have killed you before ever leaving Veneseron.”

  Lok merely cocked his head. “You’d kill me? A fellow Venator, a former mission companion? My, my, murdering your brother really has made you aggressive, hasn’t it?”

  “You’re no Realmer,” Arantay growled.

  “Technically,” Lok enunciated, “Dark-Venators are still classed as Realmers. So…” he broke off into a giggle.

  “Why?” Arantay rasped. “Why would you betray Veneseron? I’ve known you for nearly four years. What could possibly make you turn your back on us. You killed them didn’t you? That’s why you were the only survivor. You murdered your best friend.”

  Lok flinched at that, but quickly smoothed his features. “What makes you think I betrayed anyone? I was loyal to Velkarath before I ever set foot on your precious Fortress. I’m just fantastic at pretending.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could that be possible? He’d never had an inkling Lok could be a Rakarn, not since Tyrell and the others had been killed.

  Despair flooded through him. He’d been fooled. All of Veneseron had been fooled. It felt impossible, like an absurd dream.

  He’d been so focused on Lok Arantay hadn’t noticed the only other Rakarn without a helm. This Dark-Realmer perched at the end of a cliff high above them, looking down at him with a bizarre gaze. One eye was purple, the other red. Tay felt a spike of unnartual fear as he met the stranger’s gaze.

  “Wow, the look on your face,” Lok snorted. “I’ll be straight with you Tay. I didn’t enjoy bumping off Tyrell. He would’ve made a fine Rakarn, and he was my friend. You, on the other hand, have always been a sanctimonious bore. I have no idea why Brooke would ever be into you over me. Unlike Tyrell, I’ll relish taking your life.”

  Tay was reminded of his own brother’s betrayal, with a hot surge of nausea. Tyrell’s last moments would’ve been like this. Did he look into Lok’s eyes, the guy he thought was his best friend, as Lok betrayed him? Tyrell hadn’t gotten his justice. But Arantay would take it for him.

  “How did you arrange this?” He glared at the armoured Rakarn beside Lok. The blood roared in his veins as he readied himself to kill them all. Or at least take as many of them as he could before they cut him down.

  “My little spy and I used our Holophones.” Lok chuckled. “Once she texted me your co-ordinates I made contact with my true friends, letting them know where to find me, and where to find you.”

  “What spy?” Arantay rasped. His hand hung by his side, but in less than a second he could pull his sword free and have it hilt-deep in Lok’s chest.

  “Arantay, Lok,” shouted a new voice.

  He turned as Iris ran up the cliff face, looking between them desperately. Then she noticed the Rakarn and froze, her face paling in shock.

  No! Arantay knew he was likely to die, but he’d hoped the battle would rouse Iris and Trystan and give them a chance to escape to Veneseron. Now they’d kill Iris too, before finding a sleeping Trystan in their tent. No one would return to Veneseron to let them know of Lok’s betrayal.

  “They’re…they’re really here,” Iris said breathlessly.

  “What?” Arantay faltered. “How did you know Rakarn would come here? You…”

  “Yes, Elfpire.” Lok nodded at him patronisingly. “Finally pieced it together, have you? Iris is the one who let me know your exact location. What a good Rakarn she’ll be. Where’s the other Venator?” Lok turned her.

  Iris shot Arantay a warning glance, edging closer to Lok as she spoke.

  “It’s Trystan Zeltine. He’s asleep in our tent. But I can go slit his throat if you want?”

  Has the whole world gone insane? Arantay struggled to process it all. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Lok was bad enough, but another Venator had turned against Veneseron.

  “No,” Lok replied, “we need a survivor. Let Trystan him Tay’s corpse and tell Veneseron how Rakarn captured you. They need to know it was Dark-Venators who did this.”

  “You’re, you’re finally letting me go to Velkarath?” Iris asked breathlessly, her face flushed with excitement.

  “I promised didn’t you, didn’t I?” Lok reached out as Iris came to stand before him. He cupped her face in his hand affectionately. “My friends here will take you with them when they go home, your new home. There you will wield more power than you’ve ever dreamed of. There are none of the pathetic rules Veneseron enforces. And I’ll be there with you, soon.” Lok bent forward and brushed his lips against her own.

  “You poisoned her mind, you bastard!” Arantay growled. “Iris, don’t listen to him. Whatever you’ve done, we can fix it. Stop now and the Masters will understand. I-”

  “Do be quiet.” Lok smirked. “She belongs to me now, not your pitiful Fortress. Now, on my command my friends are going to attack you. I’ve told them to let me have the killing blow, but as I am kind, I’ll grant you your last words. Is there anything you’d like to say? A message for Brooke, perhaps?”

  “Yes.” Arantay felt his lips hook up into a smile as the Rakarn flexed their weapons, preparing to rush him. “I thought you’d be too cowardly to face me yourself. I realise you’re going to kill me, but not before I take you with me.”

  He surged forwards, u
nleashing his vampiric side as he moved with inhuman speed.

  Lok scurried back on his rock as Arantay flew across the ground, his sword slashing the hand off of the first Rakarn who reached him. The fool wailed as his hand, still clutching his axe, fell to the ground. Tay wasted no time driving his blade through the helm’s visor and into the Rakarn’s skull.

  As the Rakarn’s body sagged in death, Arantay threw him into the others trying to get at him. Three fell back, struggling against the corpse, two more came at Arantay from behind. He evaded the first’s lunge, spinning round her and hacking into her leg, causing the Rakarn to fall with a cry. The second Rakarn was a near-giant, and wielded a spiked mace. He swung the mace toward Tay, but Arantay got him first, stabbing into his chestplate. His enchanted blade pierced the magical armour, but not enough to kill, only to get stuck.

  Knowing it was his only choice, Tay relinquished his weapon, instead kicking the brute back with all of his strength.

  Lok screamed, his fury mingled with fear, and threw an emerald bolt of energy magic, but Arantay rolled beneath it, before leaping at Lok himself. He smashed into Lok headfirst, knocking him off his rock and crashing to the ground. Tay sprawled on top of him, raining down blows. His fists connected with Lok’s face three times, and he felt the crunch of bones beneath his knuckles before his body abruptly froze, paralysed by powerful sorcery.

  Lok lay, quivering beneath him, his face a bloody mess as he spat out a broken tooth. Arantay longed to finish the job, but he was helpless to do anything but watch as the stranger with the mismatched eyes levitated from his position on the cliff and landed in front of him.

  “Quite the display,” he mused, observing him with interest. “You were a fool to tell him so much, Lok. He could’ve escaped without my interference, and doubtless blown your cover. You grow too arrogant.”

  Arantay tried to move with every fibre of being he had, but the spell upon him was too strong, stronger than any magic he’d ever experienced.

  Lok crawled to his feet, bowing his head in submission even as more blood leaked from his broken nose. “My apologies Prince Ralice,” he spoke though bleeding lips, his words muffled. “You are right. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it does not,” Ralice walked away from him, yet Arantay could still not move.

  He watched, helplessly, as the Prince strode toward Iris. “So, this is one of your three defectors?”

  “Yes, your grace,” Lok replied, spitting out more blood. “You may take her to Velkarath now if you wish.”

  “I would,” Ralice remarked, “had I not this new specimen to tell me about Veneseron now.” He indicated Arantay.

  “I pledge my allegiance, my demon prince,” Iris rasped, sinking to her knees before Ralice. The prince looked back her disapprovingly, and Iris trembled under his gaze.

  “I do not like traitors,” said Ralice. “If you’re willing to betray once, who’s to say you won’t do it again?”

  “I would never,” Iris insisted. “What Lok has told me almost sounds too good to be true. I agree with your ways. Realmers should use their power for whatever they want. I want to be as powerful as I can be, and rich beyond imagination. Veneseron would never allow me to use spells to gain wealth, but Velkarath would.”

  Ralice’s gaze remained fixed on her. “So, greed turned you? And the promise of power. Disappointing.” Ralice held out a hand to help Iris to her feet. She took it gratefully, but as she rose, the prince suddenly shoved his hand deep inside her chest.

  Iris gasped once, before dropping back to the ground with a thud.

  “Why?” Lok cried. “Do you know how long it took me to convince her to join us?”

  “You chose wrong,” Ralice replied, wiping his blood-soaked hand on Iris’s cloak. “You heard her. Who’s to say she wouldn’t betray our secrets to the highest-bidder? You could’ve cut her a cheque for a million prince pounds and she’d be yours. I hope your other recruits aren’t as woeful.”

  Lok’s face was twisted in rage, but he said nothing to his master.

  “C’mon then,” Ralice indicated to two Rakarn. “Pick this Elfpire up.”

  “No! You need to kill him,” Lok said urgently.

  “Why would I do that?” Ralice replied politely as Arantay was hauled to his feet.

  “He’ll never reveal Veneseron’s intimate details to you. I know as much as Arantay. I’ll tell you all I’ve learned so far, just let me kill him.”

  Ralice shook his head. “No, this one is far older than you. He knows more, and it’s not like I need his permission to glean any knowledge I seek.”

  “No!” Lok lunged toward Arantay, sword raised.

  He saw Lok’s sword sweep toward him, heading straight for his neck, before the enchanted sword abruptly melted, falling to the ground in a smoking puddle.

  Lok stared down, shocked, before Ralice was upon him, seizing Lok’s throat and lifting him up high with one hand.

  “You dare go against my order?” the prince hissed. “Tell me why I shouldn’t peel the skin from your bones?”

  “I…so sorry…my liege. Forgive me!” Lok choked, his face darkening with a purple hue.

  Arantay felt fear clutch his heart as black tendrils seeped out of Ralice’s hand and grasped Lok’s head.

  Lok begged for his life, but the demon magic ignored him. The tendrils shot up, taking Lok high into the air with them. The tendrils only stopped when Lok was a speck in the sky, but when Ralice spoke, his voice carried on the wind, monstrous.

  “How do you want to die? Splattered across the ground, or have it quick.” As he spoke, a bolt of black lightning formed in Ralice’s free hand. The prince raised the bolt over his shoulder, ready to launch it through the air and into Lok’s chest.

  “Please, my prince!” Lok screamed as he weeped. “I’ll never disobey you again.”

  Ralice’s top lip curled and the tendrils came writhing down, Lok speeding to the ground with them. The tendrils abruptly caught Lok when he was only inches from becoming a red stain on the cliff face. Then Ralice lowered his hands and the demon magic dissipated.

  “See that you do not. Welp. I don’t care if my mother gave you this mission. It won’t stop me ripping out your very soul.”

  “I understand.” Lok grovelled on the ground, trembling violently.

  Look would’ve taken joy in lok’s suffering, was he not far more scared by the demon prince now before him. There’d been rumours but he didn’t think they were real.

  Besides, he’d like to kill lok himself.

  Ralice conjured a new portal, this one a swirling black vortex, unlike any portal Tay had seen before.

  “Return to your mission, Lok. Before you’re missed. We’ll leave the corpse of your little defector here, along with that Rakarn stupid enough to get killed. Another casualty will help further demoralize Veneseron. You must not be at all linked to this tragedy, however. The suspicion will be too much.”

  Lok nodded. “Of course, your grace.”

  “Someone will be in contact with newer orders soon,” Ralice finished before striding away with a swish of his cloak. “Come, Elfpire, let us get to know one another.”

  “We’ll leave a note for the Venators here, telling them the Elfpire is ours now,” said Ralice, apparently bored now the fighting was over.

  “What about me?” Lok rasped, followed by a hacking cough that brought up more blood. “I…” he heaved. “I can’t return to my mission looking like this. My cover will be blown.”

  Ralice sighed before making a small gesture. Immediately, Lok’s pain faded and his cuts and bruises melted away.

  “Rueda,” he breathed. “Your power is unbelievable your grace.”

  “I know,” Ralice replied, already dismissing him.

  *

  Lok stepped through the portal, collapsing in his room back at the drow castle.

  Though ralice had healed him, Lok’s skin still burned with a phantom pain where the horrendous tendrils had touched him, regar
dless of his amrour. He hadn’t stopped shaking since. That kind of magic was far greater then he was used too.

  He lay on the stone floor for several minutes, listening. No one stirred, all he could hear was the sound of Xavier snoring in the next room. His mission companions had slept the whole time.

  Smiling at his success, Lok dragged himself to his feet and hastily pulled off his armour before falling into bed.

  His annoyance that Ralice had slaughtered Iris was mostly gone now. He’d thought of all the hours he’d spent manipulating the girl, getting her to turn against Veneseron. But Lok was fortunate, the Prince was pleased that Lok had brought him Arantay at least. His past successes were probably the only thing that kept Ralice from tearing out his soul. He knows I’m too valuable. Akirandon herself wouldn’t have gave me this mission if she didn’t trust me to complete it.

  For a moment though, his life had flashed before his eyes. The demon prince could’ve killed him as easily as swatting a fly.

  Lok didn’t know why he’d disobeyed orders. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d wanted to kill Arantay so badly. It was an impulse. At least he’d given Tay to Velkarath, and not long after he’d gifted the other Venators to his brethren.

  That redeemed him, for now. Ralice may have been displeased with Iris, but at least Lok had two more turncoats to bring with him to Velkarath. Brooke too of course, when the time came.

  A sliver of paranoia trickled through him as he lay in his bed. The main reason he’d wanted Arantay dead was so the secret of his betrayal died with him. Lok tried to convince himself. There wasn’t a chance Tay could escape Velkarath and make his way to Veneseron to expose him. Ralice would torture Tay, then kill him once his questions were asked. Yes, it will be fine. Don’t worry.

  He fell into a peaceful sleep, happy with his success.

  Chapter 23- All Hail the Queen