Destroyer of Legends

by Clayton Wood

  “Did they spot you?” Dominus pressed.

  “Probably.”

  Dominus turned to another man on horseback, dressed in the armor of the Kingdom’s soldiers.

  “Tell your men to get ready,” Dominus warned. He turned to the Ironclad. “Form two lines, one on either side of the soldiers!” he shouted. Xerxes flashed a few hand signals, and the Ironclad obeyed, extending the line of soldiers on either side.

  “The Svartálfar come, we stop them with our line, then the two lines of Ironclad on either side will circle around them to trap them,” Dominus stated. “Your archers will set the forest ablaze with incendiary devices and fire arrows. Any questions General Leo?”

  “None,” Leo replied.

  “If we fail, retreat to Tykus,” Dominus instructed.

  “The gatekeepers are already aware of that contingency,” Leo informed them. “Pray we don’t have to use it.”

  “You want me in the air or on the ground?” Hunter asked Dominus.

  “In the air for as long as you can,” Dominus answered. “When you run out of arrows, join the fight on the ground.” Hunter nodded.

  “Got it.”

  He strode up to Vi, Sukri, and Xerxes, who were standing just at the tree line. Xerxes smiled at him, and Sukri stepped up to give him a quick hug and a kiss.

  “You guys ready?” he asked. Xerxes put a huge hand on his shoulder.

  “Good luck,” the big guy signed. “Stay safe.”

  “You too,” Hunter signed back. Then he switched to speaking. “Take care of Sukri for me.”

  Xerxes grunted in the affirmative, and Vi smiled.

  “No worries Hunter,” she reassured. “We’ll take care of her for you.”

  Hunter grabbed his bow, adjusting the straps to the large quiver on his back. Then he gave Sukri one last kiss.

  “Guess this is it,” he said. “Love you Puss.”

  “Yeah you do,” Sukri replied, her eyes twinkling. She wrapped her hands around the back on his head, pulling him in again forcefully and kissing him…and not in a way that was acceptable in public. She shoved him back then. “Now go fly and kill some shit.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied, saluting sharply.

  He unfurled his wings, then leapt into the air, beating his wings rapidly, the ground pulling away from him. Soon everyone was far below, the forest extending to the horizon before him. He spotted black creatures swarming toward them, less than a mile away now…and closing the distance rapidly.

  He took a deep breath in, steeling himself for what was to come.

  Here goes, he thought.

  * * *

  Sukri watched as Hunter flew away, then reached for her metal staff, holding it before her. Vi unsheathed her longsword, and Dio readied his staff as well. Xerxes stood with them, hardly needing a weapon to ready. The huge guy was a weapon.

  “Come back behind the front lines,” a voice called out from behind. It was Tykus, riding atop his warhorse. “Our archers are preparing their first volley.”

  Sukri obeyed, following the others as they made their way to the back of row after row of soldiers. The men parted before them, none eager to be corrupted by Sukri or Xerxes. Or even Dio. They reached the back lines, where the archers were readying their bows. More archers stood atop the King’s Road, aiming into the woods.

  They waited.

  The Fringe was eerily silent, the usual noises of birds and insects utterly absent. Which could only mean one thing: they sensed what was coming, and knew not to be there when it arrived.

  Sukri glanced at Vi, who gave her a reassuring nod. She stared at the backs of the soldiers in front of them, the trees ahead visible over the men’s’ shoulders. The soldiers readied their weapons and shields, some carrying swords, others maces or warhammers. They glanced at each other nervously, some making jokes, others bouncing on the balls of their feet.

  And then a hush went over them…and Sukri spotted movement in the forest.

  Dark shapes bounding through the vegetation, black creatures running on all fours toward the line of soldiers and Ironclad. She heard the sound of bowstrings being pulled taught behind her, and saw the soldiers at the front of the line set wide stances, preparing for the onslaught.

  “Archers ready!” Dominus commanded.

  The Svartálfar rushed out of the Fringe, charging across the packed dirt of the Deadlands.

  “Fire!” Dominus shouted.

  Hundreds of arrows shot high overhead, arcing downward to the tree line in a rain of destruction. A few of the Svartálfar fell, and were quickly trampled by their brethren from behind. But most somehow managed to dodge the arrows.

  “Fire at will!” Dominus shouted, and the archers nocked more arrows. The Svartálfar galloped toward the front line of soldiers, hundreds of the foul creatures, only thirty meters away now.

  Twenty.

  “Hold the line!” Dominus cried.

  And then the Svartálfar struck.

  They hurled themselves at the front line of soldiers, slamming into their shields. The impact sent the soldiers stumbling backward into the men behind them…just as a second volley of arrows flew overhead. The arrows fell into the middle of the swarm of Svartálfar, who dodged out of the way with frightening speed.

  Few arrows struck.

  The creatures tore at the soldiers, clawing and biting with no regard for their own lives. And for every beast that was cut down, another took its place.

  “Ironclad, close ranks!” Dominus commanded.

  The Ironclad on either side of the long line of soldiers rushed forward, corralling the Svartálfar in a huge circle three Ironclad deep, extending into the forest itself.

  “Soldiers, push forward!” Dominus cried.

  Another volley of arrows shot overhead, striking a scant few Svartálfar. The line of soldiers marched forward, one step at a time, forcing the Svartálfar back toward the tree line. The creatures attacked the Ironclad, but found them to be much more difficult opponents than the soldiers. Their claws were all but useless against the Ironclad’s thick armor, and as quick as the Svartálfar were, with nowhere to run, the Ironclad grabbed them, tearing them limb-from-limb.

  “Hey Blue,” Vi called out. Xerxes glanced at her. “Go play. I’ll protect Sukri.”

  Xerxes gave her an ugly grin, then strode forward, shoving the soldiers on either side away from him. He stomped up to the front of the line, reaching the Svartálfar. They turned on him, a half-dozen of the creatures leaping at him. Xerxes didn’t even bother to block or dodge. He just stood there as the enemy clawed, kicked, bit, and bludgeoned him with their long limbs. As they crawled up onto his back and head. One Svartálfar on his back reached around to bury its claws into Xerxes’ eye-sockets.

  And Xerxes just let them do it.

  “What is he doing?” Sukri demanded, turning to Vi.

  “Watch,” she replied.

  Xerxes lashed out suddenly, punching a Svartálfar right in the chest. It flew backward, slamming into its brethren and knocking them down. He grabbed another by the throat with two hands, using his other two to twist its head around 180 degrees. He tossed it aside, reaching for a third Svartálfar and tearing its arms off, then beating at it – and any other Svartálfar that got close enough – with its own limbs.

  “Forward!” Dominus commanded. “To the tree line!”

  The soldiers nearest Xerxes pressed forward, emboldened by the huge Ironclad’s rage. As more Svartálfar focused on Xerxes, the soldiers at the front of the line were able to gain ground, meter by meter.

  Hunter flew by overhead, shooting arrows down into the army of Svartálfar in rapid succession. More of the beasts dropped or were injured, allowing the soldiers to cut them down. Xerxes continued his onslaught, tearing through the Svartálfar like the juggernaut he was. One of them grabbed a warhammer a soldier had dropped, swinging it at the back of Xerxes’ legs.

  Xerxes’ knees buckled, and he fell onto his back on the dirt.

  The Svartálfa
r swarmed on top of him, grabbing rocks and pummeling his face and body.

  “We have to help him!” Sukri cried, rushing forward. But Vi held her back.

  “He’ll be alright,” she countered. “And we’ve pushed them to the Fringe. Watch.”

  The soldiers and Ironclad had pushed the Svartálfar all the way back to the tree line; the creatures were amongst the trees now, the soldiers preventing them from moving forward and the Ironclad surrounding them on the sides and rear in the forest. Sukri glanced up at the King’s Road to her right, spotting archers standing at the edge, lighting their arrows on fire.

  “Ready!” Dominus shouted. “Fire!”

  The arrows shot through the air toward the trees, and more flaming arrows flew overhead from the archers behind Sukri. The arrows fell into the forest, where the Kingdom’s men had doused huge quantities of oil.

  The forest burst into flames.

  The fire spread rapidly, engulfing many of the Svartálfar, and even a few Ironclad. The Ironclad held the ring, trapping the Svartálfar within the rapidly expanding inferno.

  The agonizing screams of the Svartálfar pierced the air, the fire greedily consuming them. Thick black smoke rose above the trees, bringing with it the stench of burning wood and flesh.

  “Hold the circle!” Dominus commanded. “Don’t let them through!”

  The Svartálfar closest to the ring of soldiers and Ironclad tried to climb over them, and many were cut down in the process. But more Svartálfar crawled over their comrades’ bodies, attempting to leap over or squeeze through the line. The line held, however, the soldiers and Ironclad cutting down the few Svartálfar that managed to break through.

  Then the Svartálfar all moved as one, concentrating on the front of the line. Some of the beasts – still on fire – leapt into the soldiers, sacrificing themselves…but forcing the soldiers back from the flames. Other Svartálfar set themselves on fire deliberately, then rushed at the soldiers, doing the same.

  The line of soldiers fell backward in the middle, and the Svartálfar started spilling through widening gaps between the soldiers…rushing right toward Sukri! Sukri swore, gripping her staff tightly.

  And then Vi and Dio ran ahead of her, intercepting the black beasts.

  One of the Svartálfar lunged at Dio, who dodged to the side, his silver staff a blur as it swung in a tight arc at the thing’s neck…decapitating it. He took down another beast with a vicious downward chop, splitting its skull in two. The blade on his staff got caught in the creature’s skull, and he yanked his staff – and the beast’s corpse – toward himself, kicking it square in the chest and sending it flying backward into two other Svartálfar.

  Dio leapt at the beasts as they dodged out of the way of their fallen comrade, smashing one in the temple and slicing another’s throat in a spray of blood. All in a single, smooth chain of attacks.

  But as impressive as he was, Vi was downright spectacular.

  A Svartálfar leapt at her, slashing at her face with its claws. Her longsword moved so quickly it was impossible to follow, all while she dodged to the side.

  The creature fell to the ground, its hand, forearm, and shoulder separated from each other, its head toppling from its shoulders.

  Before it’d even struck the ground, Vi was already sprinting forward, right into the ever-growing swarm of Svartálfar rushing at her.

  They attacked from all sides, and Vi spun in a circle, slicing off limbs and heads, her blade a blur amidst jets of crimson blood pumping into the air around her. She back-kicked one Svartálfar so hard it flew a good four meters, landing less than a meter from Sukri. Sukri backpedaled, staring at the thing, ready to attack it with her staff.

  But it didn’t have a head. Or a left arm. And there was a gaping wound at its groin.

  She watched as Vi and Dio worked, twin gods of death amongst the Svartálfar. They were like night and day, Dio a ruthless, methodical killer, and Vi looking like she was having an absolute blast. Together, they were barely managing to hold the Svartálfar back, preventing them from getting to the archers and Sukri…and Dominus and General Leo.

  But as more Svartálfar pushed through the line of soldiers ahead, it became impossible for Dio and Vi to hold all of them back, and the foul creatures began spilling around them on either side, rushing toward Sukri and the archers.

  Shit!

  She heard a thump behind her, and turned to see Tykus having dismounted. The former king rushed to her side, unsheathing his huge sword.

  “Back-to-back!” he cried.

  Sukri obeyed, pressing her back against his…just as the Svartálfar reached them.

  One of them bound up to her like a dog, jumping at her and raking at her with its claws. She thrust the butt of her staff at its belly, but it batted her staff aside, clawing at her face. She jerked her head back, swinging her staff at its flank and shoving it to the side at the last moment.

  It landed, immediately pivoting and lunging at her again…far too quickly for her to react to.

  She felt Tykus turn, and saw a huge blade intercept the Svartálfar, slicing through its chest.

  It fell to the dirt, dead.

  Two more Svartálfar rushed at Sukri, attacking from either side. She slashed at one of them, but it grabbed her staff, yanking it right out of her hands. She stumbled forward, just as the other Svartálfar slammed into her back, throwing her toward the ground.

  She rolled into a somersault, her cat-like reflexes kicking in, and got to her feet, extending her claws and slashing at the Svartálfar who’d grabbed her staff. Her claws raked its eyes, rupturing one of them and nearly taking its nose off.

  It fell backward, and she retrieved her staff, spinning and striking the Svartálfar who’d rammed into her from behind. It ducked…and Tykus cut its head clean off its shoulders.

  “Back-to-back!” Tykus repeated, and Sukri rushed to his side again. More Svartálfar came, forming a circle around them. Far too many for Sukri and Tykus to handle.

  Thwap!

  The sound of bowstrings firing came from behind, and a volley of arrows shot into the Svartálfar around them, dropping fully half of the creatures. The remaining beasts split in two groups, one rushing at the archers, the other attacking Sukri and Tykus.

  Four of the deadly creatures rushed Sukri at once, leaping at her in unison. Sukri cried out, swinging her staff in an arc at them.

  And then they all fell to the ground before her, their heads separated from their bodies.

  Sukri stared at her staff in disbelief.

  “Hey Puss,” a voice greeted. She looked up, seeing Vi standing before her, longsword coated with blood. As was her leather uniform. And her face.

  She was grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “Vi!” Sukri cried in relief.

  “Lose the staff,” Vi instructed. “You don’t need a weapon. You are a weapon.”

  Sukri nodded, throwing the staff to the ground. Another Svartálfar lunged at her, wrapping its hands around her throat.

  She raked her claws across its face, then grabbed it, leaping a full four meters upward, then kicking the thing right in the chest. It flew backward, and she twisted in the air, landing on all fours.

  A second dark elf attacked…and stumbled away a moment later, its intestines spilling from long gashes in its belly.

  All right, she thought, dispatching yet another Svartálfar.

  The line of soldiers re-formed, closing off the rest of the Svartálfar army within the circle. And in the distance, Sukri saw Xerxes in the forest, towering over the burning Svartálfar around him. One of his arms was on fire, a fact that didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

  They all watched as Xerxes tore Svartálfar after Svartálfar apart, even as flames engulfed the trees around them, the smoke so thick it was hard to see.

  “Hot damn, but I do love watching Blue work,” Vi mused.

  * * *

  Xerxes stood behind the line of soldiers, watching as the enemy poured out of the forest, thou
sands of little black animals rushing at the Kingdom’s men. Volley after volley of arrows did little to stop the things; they moved too quickly, dodging out of the way. And despite their weapons and shields, the soldiers were too slow and fragile to withstand the onslaught.

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing at Sukri. As much as he wanted to wade into the fight, he’d promised Hunter he’d protect Sukri.

  “Ironclad, close ranks!” he heard Dominus shout. He suppressed his irritation at the man having the gall to lead his men. But Mom had spoken, and Xerxes would not disobey her.

  The Ironclad circled around the little creatures, forming a ring around them.

  “Soldiers, push forward!” Dominus commanded.

  Row after row of soldiers obeyed, marching forward slowly, pushing the enemy closer to the trees ahead. Xerxes watched as the creatures killed soldier after soldier, and found himself clenching all four fists.

  “Hey Blue,” Vi called out. Xerxes glanced at her. “Go play. I’ll stay with Puss.”

  Xerxes grinned at her, then strode forward eagerly, walking up to the rearmost soldiers and pushing his way through them. They parted before him, and he reached the front line…and the first of the little black beasts.

  Their heads turned to face him, and a half-dozen of them rushed at him, leaping at him from the front and the sides. They slammed into him, their combined weight not even enough to force him back a step. They crawled up his body, clawing at his arms, his chest, his belly. He barely felt their little claws as they scratched harmlessly at his armor.

  Xerxes smirked down at them, reaching down and petting one on the head, even as it tore at his chest.

  “YOU…CUTE,” he murmured.

  The little thing snarled, jerking its head away and crawling around to his back. He felt it get on top of his shoulders, then felt its hands reach around to his face.

  Its claws plunged into his eyes, a sharp pain lancing through his skull.

  The world went black.

  Xerxes clenched his fists, the sudden, excruciating pain a shock. He resisted the urge to tear the hands away from his face, feeling his bemusement turning quickly to anger. The creature raked its claws over his face, hooking one claw up his nostril and pulling. Hard.