The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2)

by Everet Martins

  Feast. Eat. Bloods, we need, Blackout whispered.

  In time, he responded to the sword.

  In time, it echoed back.

  “This isn’t real,” he whispered, staring into the moon ray that cut across his face.

  Oh no, but it is, the sword replied.

  * * *

  Grimbald dabbed a cloth in clear oil and massaged it into his treasured weapon. He was lost in the task, face relaxed and a slight smile touched his face. Walter watched him out of the corner of his eye, slabs of veiny muscle carefully wiping oil along the double-sided axe head.

  What I would give for that serenity, to get lost in a task again and forget the past’s horrors. Walter rubbed Wiggles, who sat dutifully by his side.

  They were back on the Temple of Meditation’s roof for Malek’s next lesson. The sun shone with renewed intensity, as if it too had its morning elixir.

  “The training will be severe,” Malek had said. Walter already felt a deep exhaustion, tempting him to close his eyes, just to rest them for a moment of course. The elixir wasn’t strong enough to combat the wariness one felt after wielding the power of the Phoenix. Dad knew how to make it good and strong. Sleep was like a black smith’s anvil crushing his brain, trying to force his eyes shut.

  Nyset laughed and Walter’s eyes snapped open. Malek touched her lower back as he guided her into a new position, waving with his other hand. Walter sat up in his chair and quickly pushed hair from his eyes. Malek caught Walter’s eye and his smile widened. Malek brushed his hand along her back and rested it in on her shoulders. Nyset seemed to have paid no heed to the gesture. Malek leaned into her ear and whispered. She laughed crisply and punched him on the shoulder. Walter felt his face burning, warmth tickling the backs of his ears.

  “Walter?” Grimbald said.

  “Huh?”

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill.” Walter’s eyes narrowed, boring a hole into Malek. Grimbald rubbed his face and put a hand on Walter’s shoulder.

  “It’s nothing,” he breathed. The color returned to his face and he relaxed his hands. It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.

  “Remember, use your body to move the projectiles. The body and the mind are one, never forget it.” Malek said, deep voice carrying.

  “You can do it, you have it!” Walter shouted from his chair.

  Nyset nodded and wiped her brow. Malek threw a plate in the air, but it defied gravity. It zipped up, down, and then spun through the air like a vortex. Malek’s mouth formed a hard line and his eyes tracked the plate. Nyset’s first flaming disc went wide while the second was a bit closer, cutting through the air, leaving trails of smoke. Nyset raked her arm across her chest and the third disc curved in the air, cutting a narrow arc and landing in the roof’s low stone wall. The disc sizzled for a moment and vanished.

  “She’s doing it,” Walter said.

  “Get that little bastard,” Grimbald cheered.

  “Argh!” she barked, crossing her clawed hands before her. Two burning discs intersected in tight arcs, slicing the plates into pieces.

  “Hah! That’s it, you did it,” Malek clapped and hugged her. “Good thing too, we’re out of dinnerware.” Walter growled under his breath.

  She pushed away from Malek and set her sights on Walter. Her light eyes sparkled and she grinned widely. Her smile blew away the anger and he met her gorgeous eyes. She strode to him, hips swaying and drawing his attention. He embraced her and put his hands on her hips.

  “You’re amazing, even with all that stinking sweat,” he smiled.

  “I need a nap. I feel like I haven’t slept in days,” she said, taking a deep breath.

  Malek swept away the last of the plate fragments and scratched at his goatee. “What else do we need to cover? Walter, we reviewed basic wound healing and telekinesis. Nyset, we reviewed targeting, flame arrow and flame discs. Unfortunately, my understanding of the Dragon only goes as far as tomes and observations.”

  Grimbald took advantage of the empty space and started practicing with his axe. He took wide and vicious swings at his imaginary targets. Walter knew he never wanted to be on the receiving end those chops. I’m glad he’s on our side. I wonder —

  “Now,” Malek interrupted Walter’s thoughts. “You must learn to become adaptive, not just resilient or robust. Even the most flexible tree and strongest stone can break under enough stress. You have to adapt to the stress and become more powerful, more adaptive. Be like water, flowing around the petty obstacles you encounter and a tidal wave against your enemies, dissolving into air to fight another day.”

  “Like water!” Grimbald growled as he swung. “Like a frozen axe! Hah!”

  Malek glanced over his shoulder at Grimbald and sighed. “There’s no hope for that one,” he whispered. Malek looked from Walter to Nyset, seemingly waiting for a response. “Right,” Malek crossed his arms when there was none. “Let’s put it all together. Remember, you must work as a team to wield your different powers and abilities for maximum effect.”

  “You need a haircut!” Grimbald yelled with an axe swing.

  You need a haircut? Walter chuckled.

  “Yes, you said the Dragon and Phoenix are complimentary, each enhancing the other when used together.”

  “Very good, Nyset,” Malek nodded. “At least one of you has been listening to me. Prepare yourselves,” he said sharply.

  Malek turned away from them, looking towards Grimbald. He spread his arms wide, one up and the other down in a sinuous shape. A ring of blue fire suddenly scorched the roof beside Grimbald. He leaped away from the flames, gaping at the ring and then to Walter and Nyset. He raised his weapon defensively across his body. A strange human-like figure materialized behind the circular column of flame and Walter jerked his head back, breath catching.

  “What is this Malek?” Nyset asked slowly. Walter looked where Malek had been and found him missing. He scanned the roof. Gone. Wiggles barked and ran to the edge of the roof, ears pressed back. The burning column dissipated, leaving hot air and a smoldering, black ring around an armored figure.

  “Dragon!” Walter blurted, taking a step back. That bastard. No, this is just a test, right?

  It had all the trappings of a man, except the mouth was all wrong. Its lips split in four directions, revealing an empty cavern where teeth should have been. Its armor was a deep gold color, long waving plates overlapping and jutting from its elbows, knees, and shoulders in sharp angles. It had two massive horns emerging from its helm that spanned the width of its shoulders. Cut into its rounded, smooth helm were two large black ovals, presumably where its eyes might be. In each hand was a sword. One almost the length of its body and curved; the other short and straight.

  The creature snapped its blades across its body, resting on either side. Walter’s muscles tensed and he fought to summon Stormcaller, the tails of the Dragon, to break this monster. Malek can’t know, this must be a test. It stood motionless except for its head, which seemed to be measuring them one by one. Its mouth flared in all directions, wildly sucking air.

  It stood mere feet from Grimbald. Beads of sweat poured from his brow. His knuckles were white against the axe haft and his arms vibrated with tremors. The creature slowly turned its face toward Grimbald, inhaling and exhaling with increased intensity, as if it wasn’t getting enough air. In that moment, all was quiet except for the beast’s breath.

  Walter inhaled deeply, allowing the air from the warm breeze to coat his throat and lungs. He heard Nyset’s foot scrape against the wood beside him as she prepared herself for embracing the Dragon. A drop of sweat rolled from his brow and hit the ground, echoing like a thunderclap. The creature didn’t just wield swords, no its hands were the menacing blades. The longest blade had letters engraved along its edge, much like the letters covering Malek’s robes and quarters. The creature’s hard pulls of air painfully hissed in Walter’s head. He saw the plate under its bicep shift ever so slightly. It strikes.

  “Grim!”
Walter shouted, thrusting his hand fruitlessly. Grimbald blocked the wicked slash of its long sword with the axe’s head, a clang splitting the air. The force of the blow threw Grim off balance, and the warrior followed with a stab of its short sword, sliding through Grimbald’s shoulder. Grimbald screamed in pain and the beast swung again from overhead with its long sword. A glowing shield materialized in the air before Grimbald’s face and the attack was repelled, sending its arm bouncing back.

  It turned towards Walter, all four lips flaring in an exasperated hiss. Grimbald swung from overhead with his axe and the creature rolled forward, avoiding the blow and sprinting towards Walter.

  “Shit!” Walter breathed. He pushed with both hands and the creature slowed as if moving through water. Two burning discs sliced through the air, winding towards the golden armored creature. It raised its swords and struck the discs from the air, sending them spinning and smoking into the sky.

  “Impossible,” Walter said. Not regular swords.

  “I’m spent!” Nyset gasped, hands resting on her knees, her face pale. She stumbled to the low wall along the roof’s edge and put a hand on it to hold herself up. “The training, too much.”

  Walter risked sparing her a glance. No, no, not now. His concentration wavered and in a blur of movement the beast slammed into him, blowing the air from his lungs. His eyes watered and he couldn’t see clearly for what felt like forever. The beast’s horns and blades pierced the stone on either side of his torso, narrowly missing him and pinning him against the roof entry way’s wall. Lady luck is on my side today.

  Grimbald roared from behind the creature and swung his axe, shining mirror bright. The warrior withdrew its short sword hand in time, twisting its body to Grimbald, but its parry was off. Grimbald’s axe tore through its beautiful armor and half way into its arm.

  “That’s for my arm, you bastard!”

  It shrieked and yanked its horns and other arm free from around Walter. Grimbald withdrew his axe from its half-cleaved arm and started to swing again. Black blood gushed from the wound and its arm flopped uselessly above the elbow. Its short sword hand clanked against its armor as it pivoted to face Grimbald.

  It sent a gut-penetrating front kick squarely into Grimbald mid-swing. He fell to his knees and his axe chopped into the roof, wide of its target. Grim was gasping for air. Time crawled and the creature raised his long sword over Grimbald, lips sputtering and spittle flying.

  No choice. Walter let his eyes droop and he saw the Dragon before his vision, lurking, waiting for his touch. He did and his body filled with vigor and the pressing urge to destroy. Walter swung and, in mid-flight, Stormcaller’s amber tendrils materialized, sparking and burning. They snapped around the creature’s arm. It should’ve taken that arm off. It pulled hard against Stormcaller when it tried to finish Grimbald, lurching Walter towards it. He used the momentum and created a Phoenix shield around his shoulder. He rammed the creature in the back, sending it reeling.

  Walter slashed diagonally with Stormcaller again and again, leaving sizzling burns on the beast’s back plate. Armor intact. He struck again from overhead as it recovered, creating more black lines in the golden metal. It swung its vicious blade and Walter jumped, but not far enough. The blade cut horizontally across his chest, tearing through muscle and gouging bone. Walter winced, ducking the next cut. He sprung forward from the low position, bashing its knee with his shoulder, sending it rolling to ground.

  He scrambled onto its chest and pinned the long sword to the ground with one hand. He used all of his weight to drop a vertical elbow into its flaring mouth, producing the satisfying pop of a dislocated jaw. He smashed his elbow into its soft face two more times, black blood covering his elbow.

  Walter lost his grip on its functioning arm on the next blow, and scarcely moved his head in time before eating its blade. He rolled backwards and tried to stand, slipping in the wet mix of red and black blood, falling onto his back.

  The monster leaped into the air towards Walter, sword withdrawn for a lethal strike, black droplets of blood trailing in a line behind it. He inhaled sharply, focusing his mind upon this cusp. He turned to Grimbald, still gasping on all fours, face tomato red. He looked to Nyset who met his eyes. “Together!” She shouted. Yes, together.

  A single burning disc sprung to life above her. She pushed it with blistering speed and Walter touched it, making it different. What am I— the disc spun in the air and slammed into the creature’s head with the flat side, exploding in a hail of green liquid. The beast fell from the air and shrieked on the ground, ineffectually trying to wipe at its face. Not something you can do very well when you’ve let your hands be replaced with swords. Walter scrambled away, eyes wide.

  Smoke billowed from its skin and armor. The greenish liquid was burning holes through its armor and the floor around it. It writhed on the ground, frantically smashing with arms and legs. Its mangled arm twisted in unnatural directions and tore free with a thrash, sliding across the ground before Walter and Nyset, leaving a line of blood in its wake.

  He put his arm around Nyset, preventing her from falling over. She felt so small against him. He wanted to drift into a deep sleep right there, in the mess of red-black gore. Exhaustion is indifferent to circumstance. Grimbald winced as he walked toward them, one hand clutching his bleeding shoulder.

  “What in Dragons was that? He almost killed us,” Grimbald said between groans.

  “I don’t know,” Walter said gravely.

  A soft humming emerged from the spiraling staircase leading up to roof. “Hm. Yes, I think I shall read that one first, most appropriate,” Baylan said softly. “Why is it so quiet? Are you being lazy and avoiding engaging in your training?” he yelled from around a corner. Baylan walked through the roof’s entryway and stopped in his tracks. The tall pile of books stacked in his arms tumbled to the ground and his mouth fell open.

  Chapter Five

  The King

  “The Metamorphose, a doppelganger, has potential to bring empires to ruin through subterfuge and cunning without unsheathing a blade. They’re able to perfectly mimic humans, and, therefore, may have any manner of disposition.” -from the Death Spawn Compendium by Nazli Tegen

  Baylan stormed around the circular table, arms gesturing wildly.

  “What were you thinking? They weren’t ready for a Ripper!”

  Malek lounged in a plush leather chair, legs in a figure four, and hands clasped behind his head, hood raised. “You said to get them prepared for battle as soon as possible, and that’s what I did,” he said flatly.

  “I said prepare, not slaughter,” Baylan said, banging his palms against the table. He fingered the long silver dagger that sat on his hip, staring without blinking at the sinewy wizard.

  “Don’t do something you may regret,” Malek said, yellow eyes pulsing with a red glow. Baylan unsheathed his dagger and slammed it into the table with thump.

  “I have no regrets and I never will,” Baylan snapped.

  Malek smirked at the shining dagger. “A fine blade. Where did you get it?”

  “Do not try to change the subject,” Baylan said icily.

  “Okay, you’re right.” Malek said, palms open. “Perhaps a Ripper was a bit severe for such an early test. But did they slay it?”

  “That’s not the point, the —”

  “The boy and girl worked the powers together, woven as one, creating a spell I’ve never seen before or heard of. Without the stress of that moment, it would have taken years for them to discover they could do it.”

  “And if they failed? Their blood, their innocent blood would be on your hands,” Baylan said jabbing a finger at Malek.

  “None are innocent. You should be thanking me. Champions, warlords, and high wizards have fallen to the Ripper’s blades, but yours have survived.” His face grew dark and tense, cruelty knitting in his brows. “These Breden children are just so very special to you, aren’t they? They’re powerful, too powerful to need my help,” he said, sneer
ing.

  Baylan turned away and covered his mouth. “Are you sure? Are you serious? I should thank you?” He took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head. “You’ve been traversing a black path Malek, I can see it in your eyes. The Tower will know of this.”

  Malek stood, pushing back the hood of his robe. “The Tower!” he laughed. “Do they not already keep a watchful eye upon my affairs?” He narrowed his eyes. “I know why you still visit me, friend. Do not deny that you are a puppet under the Tower’s control, a slave to their beck and call.”

  “You know nothing,” Baylan said licking his lips and leaning back against the wall. “There is a plague in the Tower, rotting it from within, a hidden pestilence that drives us apart. It makes us quarrel like children, but that is for another day.”

  “Typical Tower squabbling, and Jean still wonders why I don’t join their ranks,” Malek said.

  “Power needs to be checked by power,” Baylan said, pushing a hand through his hair.

  “Ah! You’re here to check on me? Is that it? The Breden boy was merely a ruse?”

  “No, of course not —”

  Baylan stopped at the clanging of sabatons against stone carried up the tower’s stairs. Malek and Baylan stood, Baylan tilting his head and Malek with arms crossed. Baylan moved to the dining chamber’s door and saw the tip of a spear with red feathers bobbing up the stairs, followed by the Midgaard Falcon soldier holding it.

  “Mr. Malek, ah, wizard sir?” the man huffed, catching his breath.

  “Yes.” Malek nodded to the solider in shining armor.

  “Pardon my interruption sir, I apologize for —”

  “Out with it soldier,” Malek said with a sharp gesture of his hand.

  “It’s the King, sir. There’s been an attack on King Ezra! The Black Guard were able to kill the assassin seconds before it would’ve been too late. I saw it with my own eyes, a terrible thing,” the soldier said, leaning on his polearm. “The King sent me to fetch you, you are to come at once.”