Squire of War

by M. H. Johnson

  The creature grimaced, sensing the sweet taste of victory as he felt Jess lean back, seemingly off balance. Claws lashing out, teeth snapping, the beast lunged. Jess, having shifted her hips and grounded herself, sidestepped her foe's savage frenzy with a near catlike grace, her pivot ending with a powerful slam of her sword hilt into the creature’s open maw, and to her intense satisfaction she heard at least one of its blackened teeth crunch.

  It screamed. Gazing at her with demonic hate. Hissing, it backed away to gauge his opponent carefully, even as Malek, with a fierce cry, struck at its rear. The creature roared at the momentary distraction, yet Malek's blade did little more than skitter over its rock hard back. The hellish apparition grinned, almost contemptuously batting Malek away, sending him smashing into the bedrock wall.

  He slumped to the ground, a collapsed heap, even as blood leaked from the creature's razor-sharp claws.

  Jess then felt a burning prickle herself, noting that the beast's razor-sharp claws had cut through thick lamellar plates and quilted gambeson underneath like a red-hot knife burning through parchment.

  Her demonic foe noted her surprise and cracked a hideous smile, its eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Do you feel it, foolish mortal? Do you feel my abyssal essence burning through your mortal flesh? Just wait, arrogant one. Give it time. It will slowly corrode your innards, festering them with sores, till your body ruptures. A blackened sack full of festering puss! But you will still be alive, my precious treasure. Still be alive to feel every fiber of your body rot and rupture, sick essences and poisons burning and tormenting your shriveling brain, but never allowing you the grace of final death!" It cackled hideously and did not notice Jess's wild grin.

  For she understood then, even as the creature’s sting bled to nothing. It was illusion. All of it. Naught but a dream.

  As her familiar had wisely noted, the phantom constructs here only had a solidity, a permanency, if an adventurer kept them on their person until they entered the waking world once more. And, who was to say she couldn’t do more than just solidify an imaginary figment?

  So much more! She felt an almost dizzying euphoria as she recalled how easily she had snapped this creature’s magic spell whip with but a single yank. Because her living flesh was far more real than a dream fragment. Because she believed she could. And the power of belief, she realized with a frisson of insight, the ability to impress her vision of what this waking dream could be, should be, till it inevitably bent to the power of her will, might just be the key to mastering the Dreamrealms. Or so she hoped.

  Like many girls, Jess had more than once found herself able to shape her dreams, once she was cognizant of them. She wondered if she could do the same here. What were the Shadowlands, after all, but endless waking dreams that under the right conditions the strongest souls could enter at will?

  She laughed aloud, smiling brightly, whipping away the few drops of blood that had oozed from the shallow nick she had suffered from those claws. For all she knew, in the heat of the moment, she might have cut herself. A nothing injury. No consequence at all.

  The creature gazed at her, frozen in sudden confusion, and Jess seized the Vor. Roaring her contempt, her blade lashed out in a blur of steel and fury. She imagined herself controlling the dream. The creature but the slightest shadow of a worthy opponent; weak, clumsy, and slow. Its inhuman granite hard skin which had fooled her only momentarily was actually as weak and fragile as an old man's brittle flesh. With a terrible roar, her Oberhau strike smashed into the beast's skull.

  For but a moment, the horror she faced did seem off-balance, or at least surprised, yet her blade rung and sparked as if it had struck a granite wall. Her Mittelhau slashes, aimed to tear through the flesh just under its flailing arms, likewise failed to penetrate. And powerful blows they all had been.

  She snapped back into a defensive position, blade held at right shoulder, point squarely aimed toward the hissing creature's eye and she grimaced. Wondering why, figment of dream she knew this creature to be, she still couldn’t penetrate the hideous thing’s defenses.

  Why couldn't she break through its magic wards?

  It laughed. Caustic mad laughter causing the very ceiling to rumble, as if the groaning earth above would crush the suppurating infection that was this creature, a blight to realms real and dream alike.

  Malek, still dazed, gazed upward and whimpered.

  “Don’t worry, Malek,” Jess soothed her friend. “It’s just a dream. All a dream. This beast has no power over you, if you see it for what it is. Just a figment! An illusion! Only you can give it power over yourself!”

  The creature hissed. “Is that what you think, mortal child? One glancing blow from my claw you have the resiliency to survive, because I wish it, and you think to know me? Lies! The power of my dark spirit is the greatest threat you will ever face, mortal. And it will be your utter doom!”

  With that, the beast hissed a dark word of crimson power and Jess could feel the heat from the fiery javelin roaring toward her.

  “Jess, Focus!” Twilight's desperation touching her very soul

  Yet once again Jess felt as if she was outside herself, her spirit taking in the grander picture, and she took time to note the arcane matrix of dark fiery red chords anchoring that summoned javelin into this Shadowrealm, even as it streaked through the air toward her heart.

  With a single fierce yank, Jess felt herself force multiple chords of crimson power out of alignment, and the fiery magma spear suddenly veered off, at right angles from all cardinal points, yanked out of their dimension entirely, the sundered spell abruptly rebounding upon the hideous creature now hissing in pain, rubbing its suddenly bleeding claws.

  Jess smiled as her opponent stumbled back, burning eyes wide with disbelief.

  “It makes sense, really," Jess calmly informed the beast as she oh so gently drew her razor-sharp sword against her cheek. The finest of cuts. Her heart shaped face, with its strong cheekbones, was the perfect place to draw blood, with the only minor drawback that it might leave a scar.

  Jess smiled as the hideous thing that had viewed her with such gloating contempt now hissed and backed away. Her grin grew savage and wide as she approached the increasingly panicked demon, feeling a dark, almost sensual satisfaction as her blade tasted her own flesh. And in that moment, she felt curiously joined to this twisted realm.

  For she was the reality within the dream.

  The magic chords she touched she could yank free and even break. Her blade, like her armor, was, in a sense, no more real than the dream she walked through. Should she leave her sword here and forget it, like the silver tureens in the other room, it would no doubt fade to nothing when she left. Yet silver tureen or steel blade would both emerge as real as anything, should she travel back to the waking world with them in hand. So in one sense, everything in this realm, even the armaments she had brought, were no more real than the creature she faced.

  Yet her blood was of her essence, as real as real could be.

  And by coating her blade with her lifeblood, she forced it into vibrant existence, a deadly scalpel as real as she, the dreamer within the dream, with which to cut open the webs of illusion before her, and enforce her own reality upon whatever twisted nightmares she faced.

  She chuckled darkly, imagining her blade slicing through the flesh of the hideous apparition she faced, cutting through the complex web of crimson chords that anchored it to this realm, like a marionette sliced free of its strings, its heart the ruby at its core.

  What would happen, she thought with savage delight, when she sliced free all the anchors binding this monster to her dream?

  Jess heard hissing and noted, to her amusement, that her own blood was gently etching her blade.

  She gazed down the length of her sword upon the vile apparition she faced even as it hissed at her, eyes wild and furious, seeming to have regained its anger as it realized it could scrabble back no further, its panicked claws madly tearing into the stone wall it
s back was pressed against.

  In a desperate act of defiance, the demon shrieked and cursed in tongues of madness and leaped for her, claws lashing out with wild fury.

  Meeting the beast’s hate with her own icy wrath, Jess sprung forth, lashing out with the speed of a tightly wound spring, her blade slamming deep into the charging beast, and much to Jess’s grim satisfaction she felt it tearing through the creature's rotting flesh after the initial jolt of impact.

  She ducked the creature’s madly slashing claws and rolled out from under it, even as she jerked her blade free with a terrible twist, hearing the monstrosity shriek as rotting intestines spooled out from the savage gut wound it had suffered.

  Her foe stumbled back with a terrible hiss, Jess having disemboweled it entire.

  “Well done,” Twilight commented quietly, even as the stink caused Malek to wretch and vomit uncontrollably.

  “Impossible!” the creature hissed, grimly picking itself up on shaking legs, gripping its entrails with one hand, even as the other pointed accusingly at Jess. “You. You are not of the mortal realm! By what right, by what covenant, do you walk here? I abjure you, whatever you are! Leave the master’s lair, for you are not welcome here!”

  Jess's laughter stung the creature with her contempt. Eyes filled with mounting terror, it almost seemed to whimper as Jess grimly strode forth, her blade almost casually resting upon her shoulder. "It's not about the flesh, is it, fell beast? We enter the realm of dreams not by our flesh, but by our souls. And yours is a twisted soul indeed." Jess's grin turned gleefully savage. "I think that it's time for me set your soul free, pustulent worm!"

  In an odd epiphany, gazing deep into the burning pits of its eyes, Jess felt as if she glimpsed the innermost horrors of her enemy's mind. Hypnotized by the rising cadence of Jess’s words, so long it had been since it had heard another speak in the lilting tongue of madness, it huddled in a daze, even as Jess approached it, only noting in the last second that Jess was in striking distance, leaving the demon with no possible chance of fleeing before the face of its doom.

  It raised its arms in desperate supplication, ruptured spools of innards dropped, backpedaling, even as it tripped over its own entrails in a desperate bid to get out from under Jess’s terrible bloodstained blade. Yet such was not to be.

  With a sudden cry, Jess lashed out. Her longsword, held so casually but moments before, now tore through the air with impossible speed, instantly ripping through the beast in a terrible Zornhau strike, blood-soaked steel slicing through pustule-laden flesh that suddenly held no more substance than mist.

  The shrieking beast’s cries were abruptly cut off; head and right arm effortlessly cleaved through with the angled strike, flesh and infernal protective magics sundered with equal ease, the force and fury of her blow having not slowed in the least even as her blade cleaved through the creature's heart, shattering the very pulsating ruby that had served as the demon's anchor to this realm before Jess’s smoking blade made its exit, having torn completely through the horror.

  It ruptured into a screaming ball of crimson fire even as head and shoulder parted from torso, the brilliant crimson flames causing Malek to flinch and cry out, his cheeks and hands raised upright to protect eyes throbbing with pain. He groaned even as Jess shivered, feeling a connection to her shieldbrother in this realm of twisted dream unlike anything she had felt before. Yet when Malek's teary eyes stopped blinking, Jess could tell he was soothed to behold the concerned gaze of his shieldsister, even he grimaced at her still smoking armor, for all that her flesh and strangely crimson blade appeared unmarked, and none the worse for wear.

  “Jess,” He whispered at last, when words came to him once more. “You did it. By the gods… you killed it!”

  Jess smiled with relief, knowing Malek was going to be okay. “Yes, Malek. We defeated it. The bards will sing of our great battle this day.” She laughed lightly. “Assuming we can even remember it by the time we leave. Right kitty?”

  Twilight yawned. "I, for one, had no doubt that you would triumph over such a pathetic excuse for a demon. Hardly more than an animated corpse, really. Now, should you ask nicely, and not stint on supplying your familiar with the choicest of morsels, perhaps I shall condescend to remember this Delve for you, should sleep otherwise carry away all recollection of this evening's adventures like the most ephemeral of dreams."

  Jess laughed in delight. "We did it, Twilight!" She breathed deep, feeling a visceral sense of triumph. Of exhilaration. Filled with a wild vigor, she clenched the hilt of her sword in a grip tight and sure. She had never felt stronger than she did at that moment; never felt more alert, more aware her surroundings. She could sense every detail, from the fine grain of the bedrock they traversed, to the flickering remnants of crimson ash that were all that remained of the creature they had slain, to the scent of blood, ash, and entrails permeating the air. Laughing with delight, Jess didn't see how she could possibly forget the rush of elation she presently felt.

  For all that she was lost in a dream, she had never felt more alive.

  Jess gazed down at her friend, almost with sorrow. "Can you not feel it, Malek? In all our martial contests, in all of Highrock's grand melees, in all those savage raids Eloquin had us embrace in the dead of night, never has the sweet taste of victory, of just surviving, hit me this way.” She gave a trembling laugh. “Have you ever felt so alive, so connected before?"

  Malek gazed at her in disbelief, still shaken after having come so close to his own end. Yet he found with a curious look of awe that he did feel good. Great, in fact. His chuckle was hesitant, but Jess could tell he also felt better.

  Jess blinked, suddenly dizzy. It was almost as if she could feel what he felt, sense what he sensed, as if they were becoming two halves of a greater whole, odd as that sounded even to her ears.

  "By the gods, Jess. Against all logic, I do feel good. Minus the throb from my wounds, I feel great, in fact. Energized. Like I just warmed up for sparring and had myself a good pot of tea in the bargain! If only my gut wasn't throbbing quite so much." He gasped then, and moaned. "Oh gods, Jess, I think I'm in trouble."

  Those words instantly jarred Jess out of her euphoria of relief at a close battle well fought and triumphantly won. She peered carefully for the first time at her friend’s torso, throat dry with anxiety when she saw how bad the wound was. Malek had indeed taken serious injury when the creature had seemingly so casually smacked him away.

  Jess hissed. For the briefest of moments, she felt his horrible pain, steadily worsening, as if the feelings were her own.

  Jess fought against mounting panic. “Twilight, what do we do?”

  His gaze was enigmatic. “Look within yourself, Jess. You already figured out the answer. But it is not for me to say. Not here. Not now. It is for you to understand for yourself.”

  “Damn it, Twilight, you didn’t even fight!” Jess’s words burst forth before she could stop herself. She then gazed at her solemn looking familiar and sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry, Twilight, that wasn’t fair. It’s just that I need your help, not riddles!”

  Her cat lay on his side, gazing at her intently while grooming himself. “No offense taken, Jess. And fear not. I will always be by your side, should you need me. But as we both saw, you were able to handle that demon all by yourself. And indeed, you needed to.”

  Twilight’s gaze caught Jess’s and she found herself strangely quiescent. “You needed to figure out for yourself how best to defeat him. To see if you still had the strength and resilience to stand on your own two feet, face down your foes in mortal combat, and have both the resolve to do battle and the cleverness to understand how. And I see by your blade that you did indeed figure it out.” Her familiar gave an approving nod. “Well, you found at least one path among many; bloodier than most, but definitely a valid method for countering your foe’s strengths.”

  Jess shook her head, blinking, breaking free of Twilight’s hypnotic gaze.

  However gentl
e his intentions, she wanted her head clear and focused. “Don’t do that, Twilight. This isn’t about me, it’s about saving Malek! How do I help him? There is a way, isn’t there?”

  Twilight just gazed at Malek and remained silent.

  “Think, Jess, think!” she demanded of herself, even as Malek sighed, not so much in pain as tired and ready to sink into sleep. Alarmed, Jess knew intuitively that falling asleep in this place would be a very bad idea. “Wake up, Malek,” she demanded, smacking his cheek.

  “What the hell?” His eyes flashed hot, before fading into a sheepish smile. “Oh, hi Jess. Damn. I was feeling so good a minute ago, but now I feel so tired.”

  Jess thought furiously for what seemed an endless moment, ruthlessly pushing aside mounting worry for her shieldbrother, when it finally hit her. "We're just souls here, Malek." Her eyes glowed with sudden understanding. "Just spirit shells holding our bodies tight. I bet we can patch any injury we suffer, with just our wills alone, if we focus hard enough on it!"

  Malek gazed at her cynically. “Really?”

  Jess nodded emphatically. "Let me try." She gazed intently at the cut on her arm. Noting it had already crusted over, she found only pink skin underneath. Slightly tender, but whole. "Hmm… maybe I already did it unconsciously. Maybe, somehow, I can help you the same way."

  And Jess gazed carefully at her friend, eyes unfocused, trying to see him as more than just her friend clad in matching armor, presently grimacing with barely suppressed pain as he held his gauntleted hands to a suppurating gut wound. Grimly, she forced herself to see beyond the pain and panic felt by her dying friend, to see who he was underneath the image.

  She and Malek were not truly tied to their corporeal bodies in this, the strangest of all realms; the pair of them were just dreaming souls walking this land of Shadow and mystery.