Damned

by K R Leikvoll

  I had been through enough to know that something was amiss – I just was unsure what.

  The demons rushed past Typhlon, Morgan and I to attack the structures. Everything was ba’yan and polished with gemstones. Endhaven sat on a massive deposit of precious stones – its main export. One could reach their hands down into the local river and pull buckets of crystals back to the surface. Thus, everything in sight was adorned like pieces of art. It hurt my eyes.

  I strode patiently into the town’s square, searching in all directions for the hint of life I had seen before I opened the gates. I could feel them nearby, but their pale pink silhouettes had disappeared.

  “What do you make of this?” I asked, turning to Typhlon. He was studying our surroundings with a hand on his sword’s hilt. He had requested to stay to see the fall of Evya, despite the threat of being infected by the looming plague.

  “Either they left a while ago or they are still here,” he replied after examining the ground for tracks. “Morgan, check the eastern entrance. Look for some signs of departure.”

  “At once,” his deep voice responded before bounding away.

  “I feel their presence but –” I paused. I could sense someone’s eyes on me.

  The square was eerie without life. For a moment, I had a flashback to the only time I could remember visiting. I could not recall the reason – perhaps it was the occasional voyage the priestesses made when the Divinus arrived in Kaeda. It was the most liberal city in all of Evya, known for its arts and medicines. The residents lived freely without worry, for who could possibly harm the furthest city from any border? All they shared with was the sea and their Evyan neighbors to the north and east.

  The streets were usually packed. Could they have fled immediately when Cyndre warned them? Did they believe her? She was often seen as a traitor for using non-light based magic and had been banished from the country more times than Lydris. They must have, I concluded. The random store I had entered was neat and organized like the owners had vanished. In fact, the entire city was abandoned in the same method.

  “Warden,” Typhlon’s voice called.

  I returned to his side, carefully avoiding my rampant children that were destroying all of the buildings in sight. I did not bother to worry about looting. Wealth was meaningless in a world that was dying.

  A singular howl in the distance roused our attention. It was Morgan – perhaps he had found something. I leapt onto the back of Typhlon’s katoma and we rode toward the eastern gate. My wolf met us on the path outside of the city limits. His ears were perked and alert, but he did not seem to have any news.

  “No sign of them,” Morgan told us, as I expected to hear. “I still smell them in the air. I think they are hiding.”

  “They could have left when the plague reached their shores. That would have been well over a month ago. They would have had plenty of time to leave without a trace. What makes you so sure they are still here?” Typhlon asked me.

  I scowled and searched around us, paranoid. Where could thousands hide underneath our very noses? “The city looked much too well kept,” I pondered. “And they would not leave everything behind.”

  “Well, my liege, you are an Evyan. What would your people do in this sort of crisis?” Typhlon followed up with.

  It was a tricky situation. The most likely conclusion was that Endhaven had evacuated once Cyndre had warned them of the incoming attack. Ambryss was the most defended, well-situated place in Evya. It made more sense for them to stay protected than to try and defend Endhaven. Their city was by far the most vulnerable in the entire kingdom as they thought themselves too distant from borders to ever see war.

  “I suppose they must have fled… but why they left everything behind has me questioning what occurred.” Perhaps it was all a simple misdirection. Was I being stalled?

  We were traveling back toward the city when I spied a momentary pink shadow on the horizon. It was there until I blinked and narrowed my eyes to search for it. I did not bother to speak – I did not wish for any of the possible hiding residents to know I was on their trail. I urged Morgan into a run in the direction of the western coast.

  He must have caught their scent because he let out a bloodthirsty howl and darted forward without further orders. The pink phased in and out between the trees as we dashed, becoming clearer the closer we drew. When I finally caught sight of the blue hem of a cloak whipping around a line of bushes, I nocked an arrow.

  Morgan was just as attuned to the forest as I was. He leapt down a wall of rock in the open, revealing the cloaked figure fleeing us. They were short and appeared elderly, but they did not stop, even given their inescapable adversary. I released my arrow in their direction, muttering a few choice demonic words. Any normal individual would have been killed no matter how they attempted to dodge. Only a magical person could avoid it. When the glass arrow threatened to collide into their back, they did not bother to dodge. A hint of aquamarine blinded me before the arrow was shattered and sent soaring back toward us.

  Morgan stopped instantly and dove to the side. I held on as tightly as I could while he rolled, tumbling on one shoulder and using the momentum to return to his feet. The impact knocked me forcefully from his back. I barely stood up in time to spot the figure jumping into a tunnel further down the coastline.

  “Warden!” Typhlon’s voice rang out. He dismounted behind us and rested a hand on my shoulder. “What was it? Are you alright?”

  I could not respond. The thunderous slamming of thousands of heartbeats pulsated underneath my feet. Pink forms – all Evyan – were right beneath us. It was what we had been looking for and that careless person had led us to them. I could not help grinning. I might have moved on straight to Ambryss had they not given their hiding spot away.

  “They are hiding beneath us. All in one place,” I replied finally with happy malice in my tone. Typhlon scanned the beachhead and pulled out his sword.

  “Shall we get this over with?”

  Before we entered the cove, I left a demonic inscription on the sand with my blood. It would give the Infernal Army a place to meet me. I hardly wished to deny them such a wondrous meal after all those months spent traveling. I was practically giddy; it was difficult to find my center and calm myself for the possible resistance that awaited me.

  I strode into the cave, Typhlon on my heels, with a bounce in my step. In my mind, it was some sort of glorious homecoming. I had not looked upon my people for what felt like an entire lifetime. It would be good to see their faces again, screaming in terror or not.

  The tunnel continued downward and curved to the right, leading to an open, hollowed out space. The person from before waited at the bottom with their cloak drawn tightly around them casting out their face from even my demonic eyes. Behind them, a wall of stone blocked our collective path. I could hear the heartbeats from before roaring from inside, just beyond my reach. When I took a step forward, the figure moved back, until they were braced against the blockade.

  “Oh come now, there is no need to continue these illusions,” I stated, putting my bow back around me. War was far better suited for the massacre set to take place.

  The being threw their cloak off. It was an elderly woman for a moment, but like a ripple on the surface of a pond, her appearance distorted and revealed itself. It was Cee, looking worse for wear and written with exhaustion. Her ashy hair was dampened from rain and sweat. It was clear she had been busy since she first fled from Kaza’mae.

  “I had heard rumors –” she began, barely above a whisper. “I had heard that the dark prophet had risen from the ashes of Zaar. Never… did I believe it to be you, sister. What has he done to you?”

  “Did you mean this?”

  The shadows of War flowed into my awaiting grasp and I studied the beautiful demonic etchings on the steel. It was whispering to me and calling out to be sated. It wanted me to sacrifice everyone – and truthfully, I was more than happy to fulfill its desires.

  “When I kill
you, I might finally start to heal. Perhaps I’ll wait. Think about it, Cee – we could watch the universe end together.”

  Cyndre was physically repulsed by my words. She grimaced and held out a furious hand toward me as a warning. A hint of frost danced over her arm, ready to assist her. There was no use in trying to talk her into such a ridiculous request, but I enjoyed toying with her emotions. She had left me to rot in the Everglade just like her brother. There was no sweeter revenge.

  “You’re sick, Nyzara. There are no other words for it. You could have ruled over Evya – you could have let the weak and helpless survive! Instead, you stand before me excited to damn your own people.”

  I began to creep around the side of the room slowly, trying to make sure I was in the best position when she attacked. The tunnel to the surface had looked unreliable and quick to crumble. If I could move further into the opening, I was less at risk of being crushed when it was inevitably brought down.

  “I am merely returning the favor.” My tone was so bloodthirsty, I hardly recognized myself. “You already know how this is going to end. Step aside, we can talk diplomacy after I have emptied those chambers.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she yelled back, her voice echoing repeatedly. “Vincent is not worth all of this violence!”

  “Oh, but he is… and my Gods are worth so much more.”

  I sliced my blades in her direction, sending a shockwave of flame soaring toward her and the boulder blocking me from the hiding residents of Endhaven. I had been practicing religiously with my abilities, making it easy to manipulate the fire as it was about to sear her skin. It danced around her, preventing her from moving in any direction.

  “I’m sorry, Nyzara. By all that exists, I am sorry my brother and I weren’t there to save you, but don’t do this. Don’t do something this far beyond redemption.”

  The lines of fire formed a prism around her, growing closer with her words. I thought she might try to absorb them or repel them in response, but instead she was staring at me. There were tears streaming down her face. I never knew her as one to cry. It was a sacred emotion, and I relished in every part of it. I hoped that with each drop of innocent blood spilled, she would feel the same hurt I had been forced to endure alone.

  “You have a sickness inside you, but all illnesses can be managed. I know because I have helped those afflicted with your disease. If you destroy Kaeda – your home – there is only the absolute abyss awaiting your soul and there is no cure for that.”

  Her words made me snap. I was sick of every rival and foe I had suggesting that there was any hope left for me. I was the prophet. If I had to murder every being on Praetis with my own hands to prove I was beyond being forgiven, I would do it. I swore it before, and I would swear it again. I wanted the respect and fear I felt was due.

  Destroying Evya was just the next step.

  The lines of fire were finally cutting into Cyndre’s flesh by the time she had the willpower to break free. Her eyes had been in shock and disbelief before, but her usual cold expression had returned. The flame evaporated in a burst of ice. I was forced into the wall by the strength, but it did not hurt me as intended. My wrath – that is the wrath of my Gods – coated me and protected me better than my actual armor. I had an elemental advantage.

  I refused to hesitate, closing the gap between us and engaging her as near as possible. I needed her placing to remain unfavorable. Meanwhile, Typhlon was doing all he could to avoid being killed by passing attacks. I did not care about his life in that brief duel. Magic was sent flying from every direction. She was trying to keep me from getting to the hiding residents. It was foolish, and it delighted me that she was willing to die for them. It would be one less adversary left to deal with.

  As I brought War across my chest to slice her arms off, a burst of frigid air blew me away back toward the tunnel. The cavern was beginning to shudder and crumble. Typhlon engaged her as not to give her any sort of advantage while we were separated. I thought that he would stand no chance, but he was capable of holding his own. The properties of his armor were perfect against ice, though not to Cee’s knowledge.

  A frozen barrier was summoned to dampen each of Typhlon’s blows. She was having trouble counter attacking with how heavy his swings were. It gave her little time or openings to do anything other than dodge. It was the perfect distraction.

  I kneeled and focused all my energy on summoning the full nature of War. I endured the pain of the process better than before. The humming, gnawing drive of it felt pleasing to me rather than torturous. It was about to have a full meal – the satisfaction of the ages. There was a transformative thing about killing my own people. It was as if I was being given the opportunity to sever the final thing linking me to my mortal life.

  Using every bit of power within me, I sprinted in the direction of the dueling pair. I let out a scream and swung War in a fluid motion. I did not care if I hit Typhlon in the process – the drive to destroy was much too extreme.

  My blade threatened to decimate them as I grew close to colliding with Cyndre. Before I could stop myself from my momentum, I watched her snap her fingers. War was near taking off her face. I saw a brief flash of her sometime in my past life. Her warmth when I was bound under the gaze of Azra to her brother. It disoriented me, but that was not what spared her. In every attempt to save her life, she teleported.

  Or rather, Typhlon and I teleported. We phased straight through the rock wall into the chamber where the residents of Endhaven were hiding. It was pitch black, but I could sense thousands of souls behind me. I turned, startled, ready to continue my engagement. As my eyes laid upon the pink forms, they started to evaporate.

  No.

  War dispersed and I walked toward them, reaching out to grab them, but they continued to disappear.

  "No!" I shouted, running forward until the chamber ended.

  We were locked in without a clear way out. Furthermore, there was never anyone in Endhaven to begin with. It was a trap from the start – an obvious one at that.

  I ran back to where we came from and pounded on the wall as hard as I could. It shuddered and cracked, but it refused to cave. Hacking at it with my weapon did nothing. Flames were useless. The mark of Cyndre outside of our new prison had vanished.

  Would my mistakes ever end?

  "Quite the predicament. Wouldn't you say, Warden?" Typhlon asked, sheathing his sword. He braced his back against the stone wall and slid to the ground. The smell of blood drew my attention to a slice on his breastplate. He had been hit by my weapon in the messy process. Deeply so.

  "All rock will break."

  I used my wings alongside every ability I could with determination. If I could get out somewhat quickly, I could at the very least pursue Cyndre and kill her before she could warn Ambryss.

  "With all the proper respects, my Queen, I don't think we will be breaking this wall with your strength alone. Not that I doubt your abilities, but... there is a reason she transferred us through instead."

  I ceased and looked down at him where he sat. The blood was starting to pool. I did not necessarily care that he was dying, yet I did. It was absurd, but I crouched beside him.

  "Why have you followed me this far, Commander?" I asked him genuinely. "You know what destruction that will befall Praetis at my hands. Tell me why the death of Kaeda is worth dying for."

  Typhlon chuckled, coughing a little bit uncomfortably following. He put a cautious hand on my wrist. My full demon form would have been frightening to any other mortal, but he was confident I would not further injure him.

  "I'm a religious fundamentalist," he replied with another laughing cough. When he saw I did not understand his words, he added, "Do you know much about the prophecies of Asinea?"

  I looked around briefly. Cyndre was gone – long gone most likely. I needed to find a way out of the chambers, but I could spare the time to let Typhlon speak his final thoughts.

  "No. I know nothing about Femoran fables."

  "
Well, the last prophecy of Asinea... it's always spoken to me.’Like the phoenix you shall become ash. Like the phoenix, you shall be reborn anew'. The Femorans have been talking about the end of the world far longer than demonic presences have existed on Praetis. I am not afraid. It is the cycle of everything... even the Divines cannot escape it."

  "Do you believe it's important to have a hand in its rebirth then?"

  "The truth is, I fucking despise this world. I hate the politics – the hypocrisy. I hate the Luxians crushing Praetis beneath their heel. I hate those that are too narrow-minded to understand that their destruction and oligarchy must come to an end... even if it means we all must."

  "What would you be willing to do to see that happen?"

  "You're serious?" he replied, gesturing to his wound. "Anything, obviously."

  "Then I believe I know how we are getting out of here."

  By that time, I was more than versed in demonic practices. I was so frustrated and vengeful, the darkness came without being beckoned. I cut my wrist and presented it to him. There was no doubt in my mind that he had been given Vince’s blood at one time or another. He was unnaturally old for one that was not gifted with magic.

  He took a deep swallow, pulling my wrist close. One gulp was not enough. The blood of my wrathful Titan was one in the same with what flowed through my veins. I began to chant the words I had been taught by Sendrys and the shadows. He would save us both so we could put an end to those sniveling Kaedans once and for all.

  Typhlon let out an agonized scream and shoved my arm away. I took a step back, and with good reason. The elderly Femoran Commander began to seize and contort, foaming from his mouth and bleeding from his eyes.

  “Endure,” I urged him. “Endure and serve Naazvaba.”

  He shot me a stare – slightly wild and terribly agonized, but he gave me a single jerk of a nod. He gripped the rocky ground underneath him and held on as tight as he could. The cracking of bones readjusting and muscles tearing echoed in our hollow prison. He began to grow, taller and taller. More muscular and demonic than any creature that had joined the Infernal Army and the damned. He grew until the tunnel threatened to collapse on top of me. Somehow, he still retained a hint of humanity, covering me from the rockslide with his wings. Typhlon took me into his gargantuan arms and pulled us from captivity.