The Grim Legion

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The Grim Legion Page 67

by Kindred Ult


  * * *

  Niethel and Sophella stood on the top of the mountain and watched the battles unfolding all around them. They were still losing the main battle, but now that the huge bone giant was in the other fight, werewolves were starting to see that all was not alright with their leader and were beginning to head back. There were not enough leaving so that the armies facing them could still win, but at least it made things easier. Despite his anger at himself for once again allowing himself to be put away from harm, and also his wondering if he actually wanted it that way, Niethel was getting in a better mood, and whistled when he saw the giant.

  "Think you could make that?"

  Sophella's only reply was to "Hmph" at him and say "Just shut up and look for an opening. I don't want my brother dying twice okay?"

  "Right," Niethel reached behind him and felt for the arrow with the harder feathers in it. Once his fingers caught it he pulled it from its sheath and set it to his bow. He took one moment to admire it. It was a very special arrow; one that he could never have been able to afford no matter how wealthy he became. Its tip was made from an ore that canceled out any kind of protections or wards or any other kind of magic, and that was one of the hardest known to exist. It could cut through rock like butter. Even just enough to tip an arrow had been a fortune that one the royal coffers could have paid for, and it had been given to him with the sternest of warnings that it was worth more than his life. Incidentally, that was what would be required of him if he wasted it. Not that he planned to. "although I think your brother is doing pretty well for himself, all things considered."

  Sophella had to agree. From where she was, she could see Lueke flitting about in the air, clearly on the defensive with everything that he did. He spent the vast majority of his time dodging the giant's attacks, and only occasionally flying in close and slashing or punching the huge beast whenever he had a clear opportunity. To his credit, each time he attacked, huge craters were blasted into the giant, but then they were immediately replaced with more bones by Skull, who was still perched on the giant's shoulder. She also saw that Demenn and the others would have helped Skull with his fighting, but since the aforementioned influx of new warriors had happened, they were doing their best just to survive, and had no opportunities to help him.

  Still, it seemed that Niethel and Sophella's jobs—and, by extension, Demenn's elaborate plan—might not be necessary. Skull was doing very well and, in fact, it was Lueke who seemed like he was beginning to lose his edge in the battle. His speed was dropping incrementally, his dodges were getting closer and closer, and his counterattacks were getting fewer and fewer. This continued until finally he received a hit. It was a huge, downward smash that sent him hurtling into the ground, which met him like it was water. He lay twisted in the bottom of a crater, and before he could even begin to start thinking again the bone giant was right above him and began smashing down blow after blow into the crater.

  The people at the top of the hill cheered with every punch the huge warrior threw, and for once, Niethel began to have a little hope, but then, almost as if his change of mind had caused it, something strange happened. One of the giant's hands simply exploded before it was able to even begin throwing it down, and flaming bones were sent in all directions. Almost immediately after, a huge rock appeared from above the crater before shooting through the air and slamming into the chest of the giant. It stumbled back, or at least tried to. When it moved its legs, however, it found that its feet were frozen to the ground, and the force of the rock along with its own back-stepping movements broke its legs in two. Even while it was still falling toward the ground, a lighting bolt burst from the crater Lueke was in and blew of its other arm right above the elbow with a burst of bright light that hurt Niethel's eyes.

  He heard Sophella gasp when the giant hit the ground, and looked over to see Lueke slowly emerge from the crater. He flew up into the air for a moment before bursting forth, with speed he had not shown while dodging, straight at where Skull was still picking himself off from the ground. She turned to Niethel.

  "Do it."

  "But Demenn said to—"

  "Do it now!" She yelled.

  "Fine!" He picked a bead on Lueke. "Will you be helping with your spell?"

  "Yes." She quickly spoke all but the last word of the spell. Letting it hang on the tip of her tongue like a dancer in mid jump until it was needed.

  Niethel mentally led Lueke by a little less to compensate, took one breath to calm himself, held the next, and released the arrow. Almost exactly as it left his bowstring, Sophella let the word burst from her mouth and thrust her hands at the arrow. Green curls, like currants of air, shot from her fingertips and sped after the arrow. As fast as it was, they had caught up momentarily, condensed behind it, and then exploded, sending it forward even faster than it had before, with little trails of green smoke following it.

  "That spell was a bit harder than you usually do." Niethel was half-joking, but was also slightly worried that it would affect his aim even though he had sort of anticipated it.

  "Shut up." She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

  "Hot." He smiled.

  "I said shut up." Was all she said before the two of them teleported off of the hill.

  * * *

  Skull, even while he was falling, had begun his spell all over again to summon the portal once more, but when he saw Lueke heading toward him, he knew that there was no longer any time for him to work any spells. He quickly disbanded the spell and began flying back as fast as he was able. His hands flew to his sides as he began to prepare what would probably be the last battle of his second life. Lueke quickly caught up to him and slashed both of his arms across in a scissoring motion. Skull instantaneously set up portals in front of where Lueke's arms would go, then more on the sides of Lueke's head, before reaching his hands out to touch the werepyre. All the while still flying backward. His fingers were mere inches away from Lueke's snout when they suddenly shuddered.

  His entire upper body shook along with his fingers, and when Skull looked down he saw that, even though Lueke's right arm was inside a portal and was at this moment sticking into Lueke's head, his left arm had slashed through the portal on its side and was even now slashing through Skull's torso. His mind coursed with pain, and the question "Why?" The portals had been equal, why was one successful and the other broken through?

  Then, just as all of his life came into perspective, an arrow burst through the middle of Lueke's chest, caught the necklace around his neck with its head, and was so powerfully sent and perfectly constructed, that it broke the large metal links holding the necklace to Lueke's neck. As the piece of jewelry fell from Lueke's neck, everything made sense to Skull in a sick joke of fate. Even while Lueke, who had not yet noticed the lack of necklace, bit into Skull's torso and ripped him in half once again, Skull sent out one last message through his mind link.

  'The left hand of Lueke has a Spell Breaker on it.' And then, his mind shut down on his thoughts, with only one last prevailing image of his sister running through his head as his vision faded to black and he died for the second time.

  * * *

  Lueke had not even noticed the arrow heading toward him. He was so focused on his bloodlust that all else was dead to him. Someone had noticed it, though. Death had been fighting every moment since he and the vampire captain had first exchanged attacks at the onset of this battle. Even though all of his attention was focused on fighting his furious battle with the captain, he had still managed to keep half of one eye on his leader. Even with all of his abilities, though, he only saw the arrow when it was almost too late. It was coursing through the air at his leader, and he knew that something dire was behind that arrow, or otherwise it would not have been bothered.

  In that split-second between acknowledgment of fact and decision of action. Death felt doubt overflow the entirety of his being. He could stop the arrow, of course, but he knew that it would leave him open to attack. Was he prepared to g
ive his life for his leader? A leader he now did not even fully trust. Was his species worth him giving his all? Only a fraction of a second later, he clenched his teeth and knew that there was only one answer to that question. He disappeared from sight at the same moment the question was answered.

  He reappeared right to the side of where the arrow would be in only a moment, but just as fast, the first unit captain appeared behind him, with his sword to the side. The arrow sped toward where Death's open hand was at that very moment shooting and closing, but just as fast, the captain's sword was coming up at an angle. It was the smallest amount of time that separated them, only a fraction of a second of hesitation, but Death felt the blade slash across his spine just as his hand had been sent the decision to close. His fingers began to come together, but stiffened as his upper body became paralyzed and he fell to the ground. The captain came down with him, slowly changing from the Other form he had taken sometime in the middle of the fight into his normal form, and looked Death in the eyes.

  "It was your hesitation that doomed him, I am afraid. It is for the best that he fail tonight. He is not worthy of your obeisance and love." There was sadness in his eyes; sadness at having to kill one so completely devoted as Death was.

  "Yes, he is." Was all Death said before looking at the arrow pierce his leader and silently apologize with all of his being for not stopping that arrow. For ever doubting his leader. He looked back up in time to see the captain's sword swing down from above, and then Death saw nothing.

  * * *

  For his part, Lueke saw nothing either. He was so busy feasting on every singly drop of the ethereal lich's blood that he did not feel his medallion leave him. Nor did he see Demenn, Varus, and Brand break off their fights—some in mid-swing—and rush toward him. Nor did he see Niethel and Sophella appear only a stone's throw away from him, and the first division captain slowly walk to him from where Death died. He had never tasted such exquisite blood in all of his life, and it was only when began to feel a change within him that he was snapped out of his ecstasy and looked down to see no medallion about his neck. He frantically looked about for it, but saw it being dragged along the dead grass by a root.

  The blood left his eyes, and he looked about to see the six warriors in a circle around him. His body had begun to ripple and shimmer, and his head snapped to Demenn when the vampire spoke.

  "It was that medallion that kept you looking like a werepyre, was it not?"

  Lueke screamed in agony as his lupine features began to collapse. His snout began breaking down, while his tail and wings began to shrivel. He was becoming human again.

  Before the transfer was even close to completion, however, He shoved his still-furry left hand into the air and shouted one word. Instantly, all seven of them were engulfed in a blackness so complete that every sense seemed to be blanketed by it until there was only the nothingness of the void and the purity of isolation.

  The End

  28

  The EndThe darkness lessened slowly, like the night becoming dawn, and it was only after he could see again that Demenn realized his eyes had been open the entire time. The first things visible were small, tiny even, blotches of white, which soon crystallized into squares. There were many of them, but they were sporadically placed, and at first their existence puzzled Demenn. Soon, though, more squares began to show, ones of increasingly darker and deeper colors, until eventually they coalesced into the picture of a tiled floor. At first glance the tiles appeared to be placed randomly and with no discernible purpose, with different colors and shapes spread out across the flat expanse of what appeared, now that he looked at it, to be a cavern. It was large, far larger than any he had been in save for the underground lair of the werewolves and the Necromancers, and when he looked up at the ceiling he found that the top of it was glowing with strangely luminescent crystals that dully spread about their weak imitation of light.

  The light sent out by the crystals was just barely enough for a human to see by, which meant that it was far more than enough for either vampires or werewolves. Demenn's gaze turned from the roof to the sides of the cavern, noticing that there were no obvious exits or entrances, and also, more importantly, that all of the others who had been near Lueke at the moment of his unveiling were standing around him. None of them looked at him, however, as all of them had their attention turned to his left. When Demenn turned around and saw what they were all looking at, he noticed that all of the apparently chaotic tiles were actually quite purposefully placed so that they comprised a surprisingly complicated pattern that flowed around the room before finally ending at the far end with a raised platform. It seemed like a square was simply cut from the ground and then raised up a few feet until the rock stood as the highest point in the cavern.

  On top of the raised square was a strange object that looked like an altar. It was dark red in color, and appeared to have been made by twisting four large metal snakes together until they resembled one solid mass. Their sinuous bodies constantly merged and separated along the altar, and when one part of it was being looked at, the bodies around it seemed to curve and weave amongst each other until they were looked at, at which point it seemed obvious that nothing was moving in that area. The ends of their tails, which looked curiously flat and thick, served as stands for the altar by propping it up a couple of feet from the raised dais upon which it rested, while their heads each came to the top of one of the four corners of the altar and pointed, with open mouths and bared fangs, toward the middle of it.

  Demenn took all of this in with a few glances, but his mind was already moving quickly. He wondered where Lueke was, where he and his allies were, and why they were here. He was determined to find at least some answers to those questions, if not all.

  "Brand, try to find Lueke with your eyes."

  Brand's head snapped to the side like he had been broken from some revery, but when he faced Demenn, he saw that his eyes were already missing.

  "I have been looking for him ever since my 'sight' returned, but" his eyebrow furrowed and he looked back in the direction of the altar, "I haven't had a single glimpse of him or of the evil inside of him. That altar, on the other hand, is exuding almost as much black energy as Lueke did, so I think that it would be within our best interests to destroy it before he gets back from wherever he is.

  "That sounds wise." Demenn picked up his sword from where he had dropped it, winced only slightly as the familiar pain raced through his hands, and began running at the altar. Before he was halfway to it, however, he heard Sophella yell for him to stop, and he skidded to a halt, sliding along the tiles. He turned back and eyed Sophella quizzically. It was only then that he paid any attention to her, and discovered that she was in a horrible state. Her eyes were bloodshot and the skin around them was puffy from her tears. Her face was still wet, and liquid dripped from her nose and chin. She had her face firmly planted in Niethel's shoulder. When she looked at him again and saw him returning her gaze, she tore herself away for a moment and spoke in a voice that was deep with a plugged nose and that trembled with every sob that escaped her control.

  "There's a—a wall of magic between us and it, you're...near it and it could kill you." Speaking in such logical terms visibly calmed her, at least to a degree, but when she was done she put her face back into Niethel's clothing. Her hands, which had been holding onto the front of his coat as if to lift him off of his feet, slowly let go and encircled him. He slid his right hand over her shoulder, and brought his left up under her other until his palms rested on her back. The fiercest of her tears were gone, replaced by a stillness that was only broken by the occasional shake.

  Demenn ached to ask her more about the "wall," but he did not want to distress her any more than she already was. At a loss, he looked around at the other fighters in the cavern with him. Brand once again looked like he was staring off somewhere in the distance, Varus had his weapons out and was looking about him as if he were just as lost as Demenn, Niethel was carefully avoiding eye
contact with anyone and looked only into Sophella's hair, and the first unit captain sat with his legs crossed in front of him at the closest wall. Demenn was about to call Brand to him and begin to scour their half of the area when he heard Sophella's voice begin again. It was quiet, and broke half-way through, but he had heard her speak. He turned to her.

  "What?"

  Slowly, as if the very motion itself took all of her attention and strength, Sophella looked up from Niethel and raised one hand to beckon Demenn to come closer to her. He finished his turn and walked toward her. The captain of the first squad did the same, Varus was close enough already, having never moved, and even Brand seemed to concentrate on where he was for a moment. Once Demenn was close enough he stopped, and she disengaged herself from Niethel with reluctance. When she turned to face Demenn, though, her face was already beginning to form the steel that Demenn had always seen in her.

  "That barrier prevents us from getting over there, and may even harm us if we try too hard. More importantly, we seem—" Her voice caught in her throat, but she cleared it and began again, even stronger than before, "we seem to be in some kind of pocket dimension created especially by or for Lueke. It is far below the surface of the earth, but also appears to still be within the same dimension. It seems like Lueke created it so that he could have a place to hide in case his identity was ever compromised." She slumped slightly after speaking, her head shaking and her eyes downcast.

 

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