Damned

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Damned Page 57

by K R Leikvoll


  I needed to sacrifice, and Maundrell was well past that. He was practically heaving, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath. At some point, his eyes had shifted from light silver to a wine red. It will forever be an annoyance to me – he would have been far more beloved and accepted with his family. Based on what I had seen, Guinevere loved him deeply. He was to rot eternally for absolutely nothing! Mortals were not worth the effort he expended.

  Zacharael tried to help, darting at me with his sword. Though he was a simple Luxian, he still was quite agile and practiced with his weapon. Had I not been injured, it would have been easier to cut him down, but I did not dare to put myself in a vulnerable position. I summoned a wall of flame he almost barrelled straight through. Maundrell was unfazed by my magic, however, as he reached out a hand and willed it to disperse. He was not only equipped with Famine – but he was also an accomplished spellcaster though he was educated by mere mortals.

  I let out a scream loud enough to cause a physical shockwave to pulse through the space around me. Zacharael was immediately indisposed, letting out a yell of pain and clutching his ears. I used the opening to channel War until it formed into a double-bladed scythe, stopping before I sprouted wings. When Maundrell came at me again, I was more balanced than he was despite my mangled leg. I parried his attacks and still managed to dodge the shadowy counterpart as well.

  He was slowing. We both knew it as we continued our endless duel. His grip was tighter as he tried to swing more precisely. It required more demonic power to control such a blood-driven weapon; his brow was covered in sweat and his breathing was far more ragged than before. My tactics were working.

  On the next pass of Famine, I focused on the rest of my energy, using it to summon a burst of flame. Maundrell’s eyes grew wide as the fire expanded, colliding with him and blowing him into the far wall. His weapon faded away, receding into him and making him cry out in agony. I could only imagine the pain, as Famine demanded returns at tenfold. I forced myself to run through the crippled condition of my leg, allowing War to return to its dual state. I brought the right blade up through his guts, as his attempts to block me were nearly non-existent in his pain. I knew that simple attack – regardless of it being a fatal wound to an ordinary man – would not kill him. It was not my intention. I ripped his shoulder plate and chestguard away. Once his throat was exposed, my teeth found their mark.

  Kirin Maundrell tasted grand. It came as a shock, as I expected the blood of a traitor to be foul. Absurd thinking, as Vincent was the biggest traitor of them all and his blood was holy to me. Maundrell was hopeless to stop my attack while he struggled through everything else. The energy was enough to sate me and more… I wished to drain him entirely.

  A splitting pain shot down my spine and in my chest. I released Maundrell’s neck to glance down at a blade that impaled me, pinning me to him. It was a foolish move from Zacharael; I was fully revitalized. It was enough to force me away from Maundrell and back to my feet. I glared at his raven-haired companion before I took the time to rip his sword out. I melted it into an unusable clump of metal and dropped it with a clang.

  “Lazarus,” Maundrell groaned out behind me. “Lazarus, not him. He’s not worth your time.” Zacharael had his fists up, trying to anticipate what I might do. I strode toward him, brandishing my blades. “Lazarus! I am your opponent, not him!”

  Kirin Maundrell still had a lot to learn about total planetary annihilation. If he cared for himself even a fraction more than those pathetic Luxian rats, he would have long survived the demonic invasion of Praetis. His disgusting fascination and love for his food was his downfall. Whatever true strength he had was limited by his cling to morality. Perhaps he was never as remarkable as I imagined.

  Zacharael put up a decent fight given the circumstances. He was able to dodge one blade, but not the other. I evaded his arm that tried to block, pulling the hooked blade across his throat. I heard Maundrell screaming obscenities at me, but he was unable to move through his debts and injuries. I picked up the decapitated head by the hair and peered into Zacharael’s lifeless silver eyes.

  “Why would you die for this?” I asked curiously, turning back toward Maundrell and showing it to him. His expression was absolutely harrowed – he was almost as lifeless as the man I just killed, yet he still cried like he possessed a mortal soul. “This… this is nothing to me; not unlike any other I have killed. Maybe even weaker. Yet you bleed as if it makes a difference.”

  “If you cannot understand why I bleed –” he choked out, rocking back and forth. “Then you are too evil to be educated.”

  I walked back to Maundrell casually, expecting that I might remove his head as well and take the Dark Essentia shard he was harboring. When I was almost there, an eruption of purple light engulfed him, forming two sets of violet spectral wings. He must have been truly desperate to escape, as channeling Famine’s full potential was ravenous on the mind and soul. I watched him fly through one of the panels of crimson glass, away from my sight. I could have pursued him easily if I cared to, but it wasn’t a priority.

  Instead, I was focused on the throne room through the walls. Vince was dueling the Divinus – the time had finally come. I scrambled for the hall at once, not wishing to miss a single moment. I could be called upon to kill him immediately if the Nephilim was summoned. Raven ran from the east and James came through the front entrance, both meeting me before we continued onward to the throne room. We were all coated in the blood of our enemies – and from what I could tell, they were retreating. They abandoned their precious royalty to die in our hands. The survivors fought for nothing and they were a small enough number to be wiped out before too long.

  When we reached the entrance, there was a shield of shimmering light, blocking our way. My demonic brothers and I stared at each other, all of us incredibly aware that we were about to walk into something unpleasant. Once we all felt prepared, we reached out our hands and summoned our various magics. Flame and acidic steam melted the shield until it completely dissolved away. With a deep breath, I threw open the doors.

  The sight I was met with was one I will never forget. My Master’s fate finally rested within his grasp. The Queen Divinus Eve lie tortured and defeated. Time seemed to slow when my eyes rested on her. Her abundant snowy hair was drenched in her hallowed, silver blood. And Vince… he was consuming it – tearing at her dress of stars to have all of her.

  My fate… our fate… it is coming to a close at last.

  It felt like my soul was rising out of my body. I could not hear anything beyond a high-pitched ringing. I was empty – horrified that I may witness the entrance of the Nephilim at that moment… and yet…

  I never felt more alive.

  The last living monarch – the ruler of the largest Empire on Praetis – was our prisoner. The end was truly coming and I was overjoyed. Not necessarily to assume my role as eternal guardian of the Void, but merely the simple fact that I had done it. Lord Nakarius told me to destroy the planet, and I completed my task – something I thought was impossible. It was proof of Lord Baelarius’ transcendent wisdom. It was as if the magnificent crimson eye was displaying his capability of foresight before my final test. He wanted me to know his visions were the truth, and now I did. There were no more doubts that Vincent would die; it was only the question of when.

  As I gazed on them, my smile of euphoria faded. Her dress was mostly ripped off. I need not say what I thought he intended to do next when he was satisfied with hitting her. I glanced over my shoulder at my brothers. They were both equally agape and horrified. It was puzzling. I thought James would have been fine with whatever Vince wanted, but he clearly wasn’t. On the other hand, I was mildly surprised Raven did not try to intervene immediately with how tense he was. He had not seen Lord Baelarius’ vision, and he had to stop himself from disobeying my direct orders.

  Meanwhile, Vince was acting as though we were invisible. His energy was still radiating off of him as strong and disorienting
as ever. All he cared about was his long sought after prize. He thought he won. It was obvious by the expression of desire and pleasure on his face. I had never witnessed him more fulfilled. It left me almost envious of her.

  “Master,” James whispered softly.

  Vince disappeared in a cloud of shadows, reforming almost on top of James. His brief bliss was interrupted by the person that was supposed to be his most loyal. Though I am sure he knew Raven was straying, I think it was at that time he truly noticed. He looked between them both, finding he was outnumbered.

  “Problem?” Vince asked, raising his voice to establish his dominance. The intensity of magic grew more magnetic, almost strong enough to make me feel my head might burst. I was temporarily frozen – so were they. He was at the height of his power; a god towering above us. It was a facade; all of it an illusion. I would surpass him. It was foretold.

  James and Raven shook their heads. They knew better than to fight. We all did.

  “That’s what I thought,” he muttered cruelly. I was on guard when he turned to me sharply, ready to draw my weapons in defense of myself. “Lazarus,” he snapped. “Take my new toy away. We are going to have some fun.”

  I looked back down at the fallen Queen, repulsed by her living presence. Was it her blood that he needed to create the Nephilim, like a catalyst? Was she the sacrifice necessary to summon it into our realm? I knew I needed to pay attention. Any clues as to how I might harness that secret weapon were of the utmost importance.

  Although I was unsure why my Master demanded that I take her away (of all people), I still did as I was told. Everything was very surreal; I wished to defy the laws of destiny and kill her. Lord Nakarius was so consumed with the desire to use the weapon, I doubt I could have harmed her before its creation.

  As I made my way into the dungeons, I was flushed with mixed emotions. The cell Lydris was being held in was broken open and he was nowhere in sight. I paused, ignoring the Divinus’ whines from me pulling her hair, and searched the nearby land for the sensation of our bond. He was with the small group of retreating survivors, already miles away. He had used the attack as a distraction for his escape. It seemed that he did not realize running away was only going to make his fate worse. There was no way I was going to let him die easily now.

  I put the Divinus in the cells intended for political prisoners rather than the cramped cell I kept the worm in. I was not worried about her escaping so I did not bother to chain her up – that was my Master’s problem. I thought she was unconscious, but as I turned to leave, her deep blue eyes opened. She was beaten, horribly so, yet there was still determination in her stare. It pierced me in a way I could not explain. She saw what I was at a glance; her distaste showed her ability to detect the darkness – her mortal enemy.

  I wanted to say something to her, but I was unsure of what there was to say. I did not feel like gloating as I usually did with the others that fell before me. Eve felt no need to talk either. Her lips were sealed, lest she give away anything. It was an expression I knew well by then. It was one that said she would die before she talked. While some could be tortured or coerced, the Divinus was far above that.

  “You can leave now,” Vince’s voice said behind me, causing my heart to drop into the pit of my gut. “Eve and I have unfinished business, and it is of no concern to you.” He was in a loose set of robes, out of his armor. There was a bottle of normal wine in his hand like he was in the midst of a celebration already. I responded with a tired, expressionless face.

  “Leave!” he practically screamed, reaching forward to grab me. I slipped under his arm and out the door. It slammed behind me loud enough to echo endlessly in the dungeon halls.

  I could not take more than a few steps before I sank to my knees in a strange state of shock. My Master knew I was still present, but he did not care. Perhaps it was because he believed himself utterly unstoppable. My emotions were a tidal wave I could not control. I was enraged, yet I was completed. I felt like a helpless witness to fate, and that’s exactly what I was.

  “No plan,” I could hear Vince mutter through the door. “You proactively let people die for you. Tell me what difference there is between us.”

  His crimson form had a hold on her arm and was shaking her violently. Her form, metallic and strange, was almost limp in his grasp, trying to remain unresponsive. “Your silence speaks for itself. I gave you a choice… a way out. Look at you now.”

  My hands trembled with his words. There was something different in his voice I had never heard before. It was raw, filled with a mix of emotions: sorrow, disbelief, and a level of passion I did not think him capable of. Not even the conversations I overheard between him and James were comparable to the intensity of how he spoke to Eve.

  “Do you think this is what I wanted?” he whispered in a harsh tone I almost didn’t catch.

  “I don’t care what you want, demon king,” Eve finally responded. “You are an evil creature that only seeks godhood, and my people would rather die than serve you.”

  “Now they will – you saw to that.” Vince’s voice shifted to malice I was very familiar with. “And guess what? It was for nothing.”

  He was through with whatever patience he possessed, climbing on top of her forcefully. I could see his left hand clamping down on her arm, resulting in her screaming louder than she had previously in the throne room. She had no tolerance for my Master’s agonizing magics and it was obvious by how horrifying it sounded.

  “I don’t know anything! I swear it!” she wailed at the top of her lungs, but Vince refused to cease. She twisted and writhed like she was having a seizure. He bit into her shoulder, I feared, to take the sacred vitality he needed to create the Nephilim.

  I tried to force myself to stay, but it was too hard to watch. I weakly made it to the stairwell when Raven met me. He wished to find Vince – he tried to rush past me until I shook my head at him and blocked his path.

  “Now is not the time, Raven.”

  “When, then? When will be the time? We sit here idly while he threatens the very universe with his insanity-driven actions!”

  “I know,” I replied, staying uncharacteristically calm. “The time is soon. Let them wallow in their temporary respite from Treachery while it lasts.”

  The attack had only made my existence worse. My life had shifted from wars to days spent listening to the demise of the Divinus Eve that never seemed to end. I preferred spilling blood to lying in my tower far away and still hearing her scream ceaselessly. Each wail made Raven shake with fury. Of course not because he cared about her wellbeing, but because he wished so horribly to stop our Master. We kept each other in check by staying in each other’s company as much as we were granted.

  For in the meantime, Vincent had grown absolutely intolerable. I care not to recount all of the awful details, but he was using every method available to extract the information he needed from Eve. Eve was a fighter, only making it worse. He tortured her for days, practically skinned her alive, and still, nothing.

  Intermittently, he would get frustrated at his lack of ability to gain answers and he would throw a tantrum. It was not just toward her, it was toward us as well. Even James was not exempt. Once when Vince returned coated in silver blood to bathe, he had a particularly bad argument with James that resulted in my brother being thrown out the window. We could not intervene or try to get him to calm down without getting maimed in the process. With the aid of dragon blood and having his own fate in his hands, he was too strong for any of us to do anything.

  So, we were all forced to stand by and watch as he did whatever he pleased. Sacrificing so frequently was giving him the ability to command us at will, no matter how degrading. There were times he made me stand and watch him drink wine and sleep, just so he knew where I was. In the middle of it all, I was filled with a vast array of emotions I can hardly put into words now. I would swing from fury to the depths of sadness, and peak with a fit of paranoia. Lord Baelarius knew I would kill him, but ev
ery day he did not summon the Nephilim, the more I began to worry he might not make it before the world collapsed. It had grown dead and dusty in the recent months, completely quiet beyond the growling of demons.

  The Divinus was with us a few months of an awful, cold winter before Vince lost his patience. I was unsure how she had survived for so long, but she was resilient. I knew my Master had more than enough of her sealed lips when he decided her next form of suffering. Though I have both heard and witnessed Vince having sex with those that were not me many, many times, it was nothing in comparison to what was happening with Eve.

  To be clear, it did not start off as dreadful as it ended. The first time it happened, he brought her from the dungeons to our tower. She had been given one of his robes to keep her modest, though it hardly mattered. It did no justice in making her look less skeletal than she had grown. James, Raven and I were in the sitting room when they came up. There was something strange about her. Rather than being combative as she was in the dungeons, she kept her head down and scuttled into his room without making eye contact or trying to fight

  “You cannot be serious!” Raven exclaimed at Vince daringly.

  Our Master did not respond. His face was impossible to read: blank, but with something in his eyes. I looked away from him, burying my face into James’ arm. When would this wretched nightmare end? I flinched when he slammed the door rather than reply.

  It was silent that particular night. I was so used to falling asleep to the sounds of her screaming, it was odd. James, Raven, and I stayed in my room, oddly enough. I was well beyond knowing what was going on in James’ head, as he was just as uncomfortable and bothered as we were by Vince’s actions. He did not offer commentary on how he felt, so all Raven and I could do was guess. Perhaps Vince’s new behavior had shown James that he was not the man he declared himself to be. He seemed to be coming around, as he hardly spent time alone or with Vince unless he was ordered to.

 

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