The Legacy (The Darkness Within Saga Book 1)

by JD Franx

  A quick nook, nook, nook came from the swaddled rags around the creature’s face and goosebumps rose up on Kael’s arms as the creature’s head turned to the right. It clicked again and the twitching hairs on the back of Kael’s neck stood straight out as the creature looked back to the left. An answering nook, nook, nook echoed from down the block of ancient homes, followed by a third nightmarish response from back the way Kael had first sensed the newcomers’ arrival.

  A cold sweat formed at the nape of his neck and trickled down his trembling spine as he understood that these phantoms of the Deep were using some form of echo location to track his group’s position. Dressed in mottled black, Kael could only make out the clawed, three-fingered hands and the black dagger it carried. Similar to the one he used before his capture, the dagger had a cross guard and handle made from clear polished bone. The black blade of raw obsidian resembled chipped flint instead of the smooth forged obsidian of his old knife. Utterly defenceless, he longed for the familiarity of the old blade.

  The creature took a half step back and stared right at Kyah. Kael gawked at its weeping, bulbous, solid grey eyes, transfixed by the horrid image. Though sightless, the creature’s eyes moved back and forth within the face wrappings wound around its head. The cloth left only the multiple, lace-like layers of skin where its ears should be, exposed. With it standing only a few feet away, Kael and Kyah both could hear its breathing, like a wet gurgle similar to the rippling water from a shallow stream as it rushed over the sand and rocks. Kael had never been so terrified, but with a stroke of luck, the subterranean fiend turned away and disappeared into the darkness across the street.

  The frightened look on Kyah’s face was enough to get Kael moving when she signalled for him to follow. Pressing her finger to her lips with enough force to make them red, she emphasized the need for quiet. Galen and Kalmar had already moved towards the stairs from the far side of the room. When they met at the top of the stairwell to the basement, Kalmar headed down towards the catacombs without hesitating.

  Galen whispered just loud enough for the others to hear. “Was that a Mahala?” Kyah pushed her hand to his lips to silence him, but it was already way too late. Kael sensed the scout across the street the second it turned and bolted back towards the house where they were hiding.

  “Too late, it—” The creature moved with such unbelievable speed and agility, Kael never had time to finish his warning.

  The Mahala scout smashed through the door. Kyah whipped around, spitting the words for a globe of light as it surged from her hand and stuck to the ceiling above their heads, giving them some light to fight with. The globe’s brilliance stunned the creature for a split second. Kael spun towards the creature, horrified to see that it had already recovered. Planting one foot on the adjoining wall, it swiftly ran sideways along the concrete wall, the eerie nook, nook, nook chiming from its throat just before it lunged at them through the air.

  With blazing speed, the Mahala tracker leapt off the wall, airborne before Kyah’s light globe stuck to the ceiling. The creature’s returning echo response revealed her vulnerability from casting the spell and it spun while still in the air, targeting her instead. Short on time, Kael punched at it in mid-air. His left fist caught its armpit, pushing it off target so it slammed into the wall, powered by the velocity of its own jump. Kael shoved Kyah down the stairs and out of the way as the resilient scout dove into him with the same blinding speed it attacked Kyah with. It struck his chest and both crashed to floor together.

  Overwhelmed by its frenzied assault, Kael struggled to defend himself. Claws slashed and teeth snapped in his face as he turned his head to avoid being bitten. He winced with pain as the Mahala’s razor sharp blade slammed into his chest. It scraped against the underside of his collar bone and then stuck. Panic lit up inside his stomach like a wildfire as the deranged attack continued unabated. Utterly defenceless, even his instinctive magical shield failed him.

  The raw obsidian blade jerked from his body and hammered back into his chest a second time with so much speed and strength behind it, Kael’s fear-filled eyes completely missed it. Pinned on his back with blood running into his torn lungs, he stared into the true face of terror as the Mahala pulled his face wrapping down with its other hand. The gurgling sound he had heard only moments before became clear when he saw the gaping, mucus-filled gap where its nose should have been. The strange sound it made as it breathed were bubbles of yellow ooze filling with air and popping as the scout’s breath sucked in and out. Opening its mouth wide, the monster’s jaws cracked and popped, and dozens of transparent, needle-like teeth lined the top and bottom jaws, while an elongated forked tongue writhed out over the serrated fangs.

  As fear finally released its grip on Kael’s mind, his mouth began to form the words for Gabriel’s lightning spell when the Mahala’s head darted forward with a flash of speed and its long, sharp teeth sunk into his chest. The top row of serrated fangs slid into his flesh deep enough to hook his collarbone and the bottom row locked tight to his chest when the Mahala bit down. Kael’s collarbone snapped, splintering like a green twig. Suppressing a scream of agony, he felt the Mahala’s tongue slither into the second knife wound. It invaded his body, as if alive, pushing and tearing its way through his lung towards the more succulent, vital organs. Lost in the throes of hysterical panic and the unending savagery of the attack, Kael screamed. After what seemed like hours, he finally managed to gasp a desperate breath of relief as sticky strands of black and orange fire exploded against the creature on top of him, sending it tumbling ablaze into the corner of the room, where it shrieked with misery.

  With shock setting in and his body alive with agony, Kael almost didn’t recognize Galen above him as the master wizard tried to lift him to his feet.

  Choking, he coughed to clear his mouth. “G… Galen?” he wheezed, as more blood caught in his throat.

  “You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you? I’ll always have your back, you know that. Come on, we have to hurry.” Galen rushed ahead as Kael gained his feet. He fell forward, unable to stand. With no other choice, Galen took all of his friend’s weight on his shoulder and started to drag him back to the stairs.

  “Ah, shit, Galen. We need to hurry.” Kael gagged. On the ragged edge of panic, nauseousness swirled through his mind. His body shook with tremors and cold shivers. “There are a lot more coming—” He coughed, unable to stop, and it felt like his lungs were full of broken glass. He knew it was a sure sign the knife wounds and probing tongue had done some serious damage.

  “I know.” Galen grunted, even under Kael’s emaciated weight. “Even I can feel them now. Kalmar and Kyah are already into the tunnels below the basement. We’ll be fine once we get there.”

  The two hadn’t yet reached the catacomb door when dozens more Mahala burst into the house. The two friends stumbled through the final door, with Galen doing his best to drag Kael along, but their months in captivity by the Dead Sisters had taken their toll and it was slowing them down. When Kael heard the frenzy of Mahala fighting to get down the basement stairs, he knew that with the creature’s speed, they’d be overrun in seconds.

  “Cover your head,” he gasped, his words garbled, as blood oozed from his mouth. He coughed to clear his voice. “Kveysa Drepa,” Kael barked with the last of his failing energy. Coughing from the effort, he tasted more blood.

  Galen cried out in shock as Kael turned sideways, releasing a devastating onslaught of black lightning. It ripped into the ceiling above the catacomb door, only fifteen feet behind them.

  “Oh shit, Kael,” Galen shouted. “What in the Nine Hells are you doing!” Kael held the spell for as long as he could. The black energy sizzled, tearing through the wooden supports of the doorway before it wormed its way up into the bedrock ceiling, cutting through the rock as if were made from tattered cloth. The stone cracked and began to split under the assault just as Kael felt another set of hands yank him further into the tunnel. The devastating effect was f
ar greater than he intended. As the door supports collapsed, the stone above shifted and caved in under the stress of dark magic. The entrance and hallway collapsed completely, crushing the large horde of Mahala warriors as the shock-wave hurled the four escapees further down the tunnels beneath the ancient Dwarven city.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  For the first time since this year-long civil war began, I must stand to the side and watch while friends and followers, all of them good men and women, die fighting for our cause. The battle raged heavy in the cobbled streets and stone-walled alleys of Drae’Kahn while myself and my small infiltration group ghosted past the blade-locked combatants and death sobs of the doomed, all undetected. We now wait at the sewer expulsion pipe at the base of BlackVoid Castle. Once we hear the horns from the rebels’ second attack on the city, we will enter the pipe and follow it to the royal privies closest to the throne room. And once there, we will kill everything we encounter.

  DormaSai’s current king and sadistic tyrant, Aidon Azmerack, son of the most vile necromancer to ever live, must die tonight. For six years he has ruled on a throne of blood and bone, backed by the constant threat of his twisted creations, just like his father before him. He no longer even attempts to hide the fact that his creatures have taken thousands of innocents just for him, our king, to play with during his bastardized rituals of necromancy. If we fail in our attempt to kill him and his undead King’s Guard and someone escapes with or finds my journal, I beg of you, as commander of the rebellion, please take this journal and all the information inside to Emperor Mero in Ellorya, and beg for his assistance in ridding our country of this monster. I would rather see it under the rule of our ancient enemies than know that our people will continue to suffer and die at the hands of another centuries-long Azmerack reign.

  EXCERPT FROM COMMANDER

  NEKROSA KOHL’S JOURNAL.

  DORMASAI’S CIVIL WAR, 5014–5015 PC

  BLACKVOID CASTLE, 5025 PC

  DRAE’KAHN,

  CAPITAL CITY OF DORMASAI

  The Southern Kingdoms consisted of many countries, islands, and even a large salt desert. The two biggest and most powerful countries in the south were Ellorya and DormaSai. Ellorya is the controlling country of the Southern Kingdoms, much in the same way as Cethos in the Blood Kingdoms to the north. Ellorya has always been ruled by an Emperor and an Empress. The current emperor, Colias Mero, had ruled the powerful country for thirty-two years.

  The country of DormaSai lay to the west of Ellorya, and though the two countries haven’t been at war for almost a hundred years, a strong hatred still existed between them. If the Emperor of Ellorya was guaranteed of victory, the war would be renewed at any moment.

  DormaSai was a land shrouded in the mystery of the arcane. It was the only whole and intact country that was left undamaged by the Cataclysm caused by Jasala Vyshaan’s death. Every other country was either swallowed by the rising oceans or their land masses broken into smaller pieces. DormaSai was a country that had always been ruled by the power of magic. The current king and queen were no different. Nekrosa Kohl and his wife, Sephitrotha, had ruled for ten years. The king of DormaSai was one of the most powerful necromancers to have ever been born in Talohna and his queen was a warrior of no known equal, also blessed with the power to command the dead.

  They opened their country to any and all who wished to learn or study magic. No magic was restricted in DormaSai, so long as the country’s citizens didn’t suffer for it. The Ageless Library of the Arcane was the largest school and repository of magic in existence and all DormaSain nobility had a standing reward for all arcane knowledge, especially that of different or unknown origin. One walked with a careful step in DormaSai if an outsider; magical power ruled, and only magical power was respected.

  King Nekrosa Kohl stood in his throne room, but he wasn’t holding court. Instead he stared out the window at the capital city of Drae’Kahn. A frown of worry expressed his foul mood. His wife should have returned from Ellorya days ago, and he was beginning to worry. Nekrosa had done everything he could to avoid going to war with his neighbour to the east, but if anything happened to his wife, they would have their war at long last. So focused on the city and his thoughts, he never heard his wife enter the throne room from behind him.

  “My husband? Nothing wrong, is there?”she asked, puzzled. Turning from the open-air window, he smiled.

  “My beautiful wife, you’ve returned. I’d begun to worry for your safety. Why the delay? Did all go as planned?”

  Embracing her husband and offering a kiss he was happy to accept, she nodded. “Emperor Mero is satisfied that we have no interest in Ellorya, unlike our predecessors. It might have taken ten years, love, but I believe he finally believes us, for now at least. Azermak, his bastard son, and their legacy of horrors upon our people and Ellorya’s has finally come to an end. We have a treaty of peace, for as long as we offer no asylum to criminals, especially ones with mystical abilities. We have a standing peace with Ellorya, my love. We will be allowed to govern our country as we see fit without the threat of war. We can move forward with our plans.”

  Nekrosa kissed his wife on her forehead. “Now if only the Bloods could be convinced to leave us alone. Cethos would like nothing less than to see the last of our kind become extinct as well.”

  “They may want all they like, husband, but they won’t act against us. The rest of the south would consider it an invasion and respond accordingly. Forget such thoughts. Have you heard from Dekayna?” she enquired. Shaking his head, Nekrosa’s response made her frown.

  “Her raptor has not shown itself. I’ve been unable to verify what our other informants saw. Hopefully, Cethosian officials or that damn ArchWizard haven’t discovered her. Explaining why one of our spy masters was captured in Corynth would have drastic ramifications on the Talohna Peace Accord. Not to mention what they’d do to your sister.”

  Sephi took her husband’s hands and held them to her chest. “She will be fine. She has been there for weeks without drawing their attention. It is one of the reasons why we sent her, my love. Now come to bed. Perhaps her shadow-raptor will come tomorrow. I’ve been gone for forty days, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

  Though the sun had not yet begun to set, they both retired to the master bedchamber for the evening, leaving strict orders with the king’s guard not to be disturbed.

  Nekrosa woke the next morning to the death shriek of an agitated shadow-raptor screaming at him from the foot board of their large master bed.

  “Silence,” he hissed at the vague shape of a large bird enveloped in the darkness of shadows. Sephi moaned, throwing a pillow at the undead phantom. It passed through the shadows and the raptor without ruffling a feather. Only necromancers had the skills necessary to use the undead raptors for communication. Most races and magic users had similar abilities to talk or even see over great distances at one time in the past, but nearly all had been lost or abandoned many centuries ago, whether they were live birds like the falcon or raven used to carry written messages, enchanted mirrors, or a type of mind link like Fae dreamcasting. Nekrosa’s method was one of the last that still existed. Due to most country’s laws against necromancy, it was exceptionally rare as well.

  Getting out of bed he pulled his long, black hair into a ponytail, and tied it at the nape of his neck. His wife followed, sliding out of the bed with a grace granted only to the swiftest warriors. Wrapping herself in a silk gown, she stood beside Nekrosa as the raptor screeched its annoyance at having to wait.

  Staring at the annoying creation was enough to silence its squawking, but Nekrosa still barked the words to complete the spell from his end. “Wings of death’s shadow, words of the faithful. Speak.” The words of the chant activated the magic within the raptor.

  A voice echoed for only a second as it emerged from the raptor. “My lord, Nekrosa, I have the report you asked for.” Dekayna’s words were clear and sharp, as if she were standing beside him in the room even though
her voice travelled through the void between life and death. The undead raptors at each end of the magic allowed them to speak in real time.

  “It’s good to hear from you, Dekayna. Are you safe?”

  “Yes, my lord. No one has noticed my presence here as of yet.”

  “Is it true then, sister?” Sephi asked, as she spoke to the shadowy vulture-like creation. A few seconds of silence followed before the voice on the other end answered.

  “It is, Your Highness. I’m in Corynth and I spoke with a young homeless girl this morning who usually sneaks into Nobility Row in order to beg for money or scraps. She was standing in an alley across the street from the ArchWizard’s mansion when they arrived.”

  “You’re sure, Dekayna? There must be no mistake. The healers here noticed that it started about twelve days ago, but you must be positive. We’ll not risk war unless you are,” Nekrosa demanded. Her response was immediate this time.

  “I am, my lord. I’ve spoken to her many times. The ArchWizard, his daughter Saleece, the Northman named Kasik, and the other warrior called Max were returned to Corynth two nights ago by a young woman named Ember. She used a Fae realm-jumping spell to get them here. The young girl swears there was a loud crack followed by a bright light, just like the ancient scrolls describe. They just appeared from nothing, my lord, the child swears by what she saw. The young woman, Ember, nearly died from using the spell, but it now looks like she will live.” Nekrosa turned away deep in thought, grinning. He let his wife take over.

  “Incredible. Good work, Dekayna. Now return to us before you’re discovered there. They don’t take well to our kind. If you’d like, bring the homeless girl back with you. We can offer her a better life here than she’ll have begging and eventually whoring on the streets of Corynth,” Sephi offered.