by J. M. Topp
Ayda screamed as the skeleton placed the nail on her left hand and slammed it with the hammer as hard as it could. Blood trickled down her nailed hand. Ayda sobbed as the other skeletons were going to nail her right hand into the tree. Anger welled up inside Bendrick. Her screams sent him into a blind fury. Suddenly, the brand on Bendrick’s chest burst with a blue flame. It began to engulf him, burning his clothes. Bendrick’s sword was lit ablaze. Azure colours surrounded Bendrick in a halo of fire. His lungs filled with fire, and he could not keep the flames in in. Bendrick screamed, vomiting blue muck from his mouth. A giant pool of blue collected before him, in stark contrast to the darkened skies. It glowed faintly. Bendrick wiped blue liquid from his lips and smiled evilly, his eyes glowing ice blue.
Naked and on fire, he lunged at the giant skeleton’s leg, slicing it in one motion. The giant skeleton screamed and hit him with its elongated arm. Bendrick fell to the ground, but was up in an instant. With incredible speed, he lunged to Ayda’s side. Bendrick cut a skeleton’s head off and punched the other with his fist, setting it ablaze. Ayda fell to the ground with her hand still nailed to the tree, unconscious. Bendrick turned to the giant skeleton. Its cut limb lay in the mud and turned to muck.
‘You fool. The daemon incubating within you is nothing more than a crying babe. A stolen gift. Why not give it to me? A gift like that is wasted on you.’ The giant skeleton snickered cruelly as it touched its cut leg. The bone began to grow, and before Bendrick knew it, the giant skeleton’s leg had regenerated completely.
The giant skeleton sneered at Bendrick with a low laugh. ‘The truth is, you are no different from me. The seed of darkness embedded in your chest is the same thing that fuels the evil in this place. Even so, you fight us, instead of helping us kill. We came not for you, Bendrick. We came for the halfling. We need not be enemies.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Anger like Bendrick had never known before surged through his mind. ‘I may have this strange mark upon my chest, but I am still human—right down to the marrow in my bones. I have nothing in common with you.’
The giant skeleton roared and slammed his sword against the tree, slicing it at the base. The tree leaned forward over Ayda and Bendrick. Bendrick pulled Ayda’s hand from the nail in the tree and picked Ayda up in his arms. He jumped just before the tree fell with a loud crash. Flames from Bendrick’s chest began to dance onto the unconscious half-elf, burning her. Bendrick threw her into a mound of snow that doused the blue flames quickly. Red sores appeared where he had grabbed Ayda.
‘It is clear that you are one of us, Bendrick. Even now, the girl you protect is a victim of your power. That will not be the last wound you inflict on her.’
‘I don’t know who you think you are, but I am getting tired of your words!’ Bendrick shouted, and the flames roared around him. He dropped his sword and screamed as loudly as he could. Blazing liquid poured from Bendrick’s mouth like a fountain. It landed inches from where the giant skeleton was standing. Power like Bendrick had never known before seared through his veins.
Suddenly, the power Bendrick had been relishing faded. In an instant, the blue mark on his chest dulled to a simple black scar. The large pool of flaming blue muck stood in-between him and the daemon. Bendrick landed on his knees and hand, completely out of breath. The giant skeleton roared with laughter. It pointed its sword at Bendrick.
‘And so a prophecy dies before it has been fulfilled. By my hand, no less.’
But before the daemon had finished talking, a glowing blue snake whipped up from the pool of azure flame. It wrapped itself around the daemon’s blade and pulled it into the pool. The skeleton grabbed the head of the snake and cut it with its massive sword, but the snake didn’t die. Instead, its head shot from its severed body and bit at the skeleton’s arm.
‘I will be born again…’
Dozens of small snakes sprang from the pool instantly and grabbed the giant skeleton with their jaws. They began to drag the skeleton into the pool. The giant struggled and tried to fight back, but the snakes were much stronger. With a last tug, they dragged the giant skeleton into the pool. With a final scream, it disappeared beneath the blue waves, leaving Bendrick in silence.
‘No, you won’t,’ said Bendrick, panting heavily. Satisfied that the immediate threat had been dealt with, he let his body go limp. Even the pain in his arms and legs began to fade. He lay on the cold ground and closed his eyes. Bendrick felt a warm tug on his chest, but he couldn’t open his eyes to look. His mind dulled. Yet he wasn’t alone. Bendrick’s shrouded thoughts began to whirl within him. Whispering and murmuring, they embraced him as he fell into deep sleep.
THE SOUNDS OF armour rattling loudly woke Bendrick, and he sat up with a start. The only sign of conflict was the giant tree lying on the ground. Its large stump seeped black steam, but no skeletons emerged from it. He turned to see Ayda on the ground, still unconscious, with a trail of dried blood coming from the hole in her hand. Bendrick stood up and knelt at her side. It would have to be cleaned and looked at or she might lose her other arm.
‘Ayda, wake up.’
Her eyes stirred open as if she had been in a deep sleep.
‘What…happened?’
‘You’re safe now.’
A sharp gasp made Bendrick turn to see the Duren townsfolk behind them. They were accompanied by two armoured guards carrying pikes. One of them wore a sack hat, and the other stroked his bearded face. The woman who was Ayda’s mother burst from between them and pointed a finger at him.
‘You son of a bitch! You disgusting pervert!’
Ayda picked herself up and winced in great pain. Even so, she stepped in front of Bendrick.
‘No! He saved my life again. These things came to life from the tree and attacked us. He killed them.’
Bendrick held a hand over his nakedness. This doesn’t look good.
Tears streamed down the mother’s cheeks. ‘Look what that madman has done. He has made her crazy. Please, get him.’
The Duren guard leveled their pikes at Bendrick.
‘Raise your hands in the air, and don’t move.’ The bearded soldier stepped forward with his partner in stride.
‘No,’ Ayda said, but Bendrick placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. It would not do to explain this now. He held up his hands and walked to the soldiers.
‘I will go. Just don’t harm her.’
‘Sick. He shows affection to her. As if that makes it any better.’ The mother spat at Bendrick and walked to Ayda to grab her.
‘Blow me!’ Ayda spat back at her and ran as fast as she could into the ruins. The mother ran after her, but stopped just before the edge of crumbled stone. Bendrick smiled, knowing that Ayda wouldn’t be caught by her.
‘What are you smiling about, bastard?’ The bearded man struck Bendrick in the face with the butt of his pike, sending him to the ground. ‘Get up on your feet.’
The other soldier moved to help him up. They bound his hands behind his back with a course rope and began to walk him away. The villagers began to throw stones and rotten food at Bendrick.
‘Take him to the cells. We will question him there,’ said the bearded man as he picked up his bastard sword. The villagers grabbed him by his arms. Before he was out of hearing distance, he heard the bearded soldier turn to his partner.
‘How the hell did he cut through the tree with that rusty-looking sword?’
Bendrick stared solemnly as his feet as he paced the dirt road back to Duren.
BENDRICK’S STRENGTH HAD completely left him. The scar on his chest was as colourless as the scar above his eye. He had barely enough strength to sit up straight in his chair. He was given a pair of dirt-ridden burlap pants, but only that. The guard with the bearded face sat across from him, rummaging through scrolls and written correspondence. Bendrick’s mind began to waver when the guard slammed his fist on the table, waking him up. Water was dripping from somewhere, but Bendrick couldn’t pinpoint where. A ray of light shot from benea
th the cell’s wooden door, hitting Bendrick’s face. He squinted at the light.
‘What is your name?’ The bearded man stared at Bendrick with a visible frown. Bendrick didn’t know what his name would accomplish. In Weserith, he was someone, but now with the city mostly destroyed, there wasn’t much his name would weigh.
‘Bendrick Greystonne.’
The man began to write on a scroll. He scratched the paper with his quill and looked up.
‘What were you doing with Olavia’s daughter? She works really hard to take care of little Aydalyyn, you know. What did you do to her?’ he asked, raising one eyebrow.
‘What do you think I did?’ asked Bendrick.
‘Considering you were naked when we caught you, it doesn’t bode well for you. I’ll ask again; what did you do to the girl?’
‘Nothing. She came to me of her own free will,’ Bendrick said, not knowing what to say.
‘Why would she do such a thing?’
‘She has a will of her own.’
The bearded man glanced up from his scrolls.
‘You are being charged with sequestration of a little girl for perverse purposes.’
‘I don’t think I’ve seen you before,’ said Bendrick, squinting at the guard.
The guard squinted and craned his head. ‘What?’
‘Where were you when the winged beasts attacked the village? I don’t remember seeing you or your compatriot.’
The guard’s face reddened, and he slammed his fist on the table.
‘We are here discussing your heinous crimes—I’ll not stand for baseless accusations.’
‘I find that curious.’
‘I was prepared to give you an honest trial, but you have changed my mind. We no longer have an executioner, but our local priest will doubtless know what to do with you. Upon my honour, it will be a painful and slow death.’ The bearded man smiled and laughed cruelly, licking the saliva that trailed into his beard. ‘That was a nice blade we found beside the tree. I expect to make good use of it when we execute you.’
Bendrick smiled back. Death wasn’t a prospect he feared much anymore. Bendrick didn’t necessarily believe in the gods or in heaven. However, the events that had taken place within the last few days proved that there indeed were such things as daemons and witches. So maybe it was the same for heaven and its gods. Perhaps he would be reunited with Sieglinde in the end, and if that didn’t give him comfort, nothing in this world could.
The guard brought Bendrick to a cell with iron bars and threw him to the ground. Straw was strewn about the floor, littering it. Bendrick sat up on the edge of his cell bed as the guard slammed the gate behind him. The bed was roughly made, with splinters from the wood. Bendrick knew that rest would not be acquired that night. Yet Bendrick knew he had slept in worse. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Time passed, but Bendrick couldn’t measure how much. He opened his eyes every once in a while, only to close them and wait some more time. This always seems to happen in prisons.
‘You do not sleep. Why is this?’
The voice belonged to someone he was beginning to know well. It didn’t surprise him, but Bendrick had been wondering when he would hear it next. He opened his eyes slowly as he leaned back on the cold wall behind him.
‘If I sleep, I dream,’ whispered Bendrick.
‘Nightmares?’
‘No, even worse,’ Bendrick paused. ‘Memories.’
‘You remember what was lost and weep for it to return.’
Bendrick glanced into the corner of the dark cell. The silhouette of the witch was outlined against the wall. She seemed to be sitting against it with her legs folded. Her dress was splayed out onto the stone floor, sown in with the shadows. Her head turned to look at him, blindfold still evident over her eyes.
Bendrick sniffed in frustration. ‘You gave me this power, but it has been used to the limit. What use is a power that can be lost so easily?’
‘The power was a gift, and it has no limit. It was still young and naive, however. Most of it has been lost, but the power will return little by little once more.’
‘I can’t feel it.’ Bendrick rubbed his arms together to warm himself. Tiny snowflakes wafted into the cell from the small window in the corner. ‘Its warmth is gone.’
‘Your pain clouds its strength.’
Bendrick ignored her. ‘They call me Apostle. What does it mean?’
The witch’s shadow turned as if it had been shocked by Bendrick’s words. She sat in silence for a moment before answering.
‘The daemons mean the Harmony of the Apostles, a select few, chosen to restore the barriers between worlds. It is a prophecy that failed to be fulfilled once. However, I believe I can bring the Apostles together and try one last time. You are one of the six Apostles destined to help us all begin anew. This is your true purpose,’ said the witch, waving her hand in the air elegantly.
‘Chosen? By whom?’
Irina laughed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You are an Apostle?’
‘No, no, by the gods. I am merely the catalyst.’
Bendrick shook his head and folded his arms over his chest with a shiver. ‘I don’t care about any harmony. I don’t care about any prophecy. I want to kill that horned daemon. How can I, if I am as weak as I am now?’ asked Bendrick.
‘You’ve faced two dark ones already, both within their true power, and lived to tell of it. It is not the measure of strength that brings down darkness, but the measure of the weak. For, within darkness you will find your true strength.’
Bendrick shook his head. ‘What are you talking about?’
The witch’s shadow faded into the stone, leaving Bendrick alone in the cell. A muffled curse broke through the dark, and Bendrick jumped up from his cot. It sounded like Ayda. Hurriedly, Bendrick poked his face into the iron bars of the cell window. He couldn’t see much at first, but then torches began to clear the view. The townspeople were assembled before the prisons. They stood at the foot of a large gallows, and to Bendrick’s horror, Ayda stood on the platform with a noose around her neck and hands tied to her waist. Bendrick squeezed the iron bars but stopped to listen as what looked like a priest stepped on the platform beside Ayda. The heavy-set priest was clad in a long black robe. A thick, white-ribbed collar surrounded his head, and atop his head was a long, wide-brimmed white hat. He held a thick book in one hand and a gigantic spiked mace in the other hand. He wore an iron mask over his eyes, and his smile flashed brighter than the torches below him. Instruments of torture hung from his belt, ringing their metallic sounds as the priest moved. The townspeople began bowing their heads to the priest and holding their hands to their breasts. They were chanting his name. Bendrick realized that the priest was a Chastiser.
‘Father Sabathiel, Father Sabathiel,’ the townspeople said, with hands to their hearts.
Ayda glanced around in panic. Her hand was still bleeding from the nail the skeletons had nailed into it. Her amputated fingers were bleeding as well. Tears streamed from her eyes as she struggled to swallow. Bendrick saw Ayda’s mother amongst the crowd with hands folded to her chest in prayer. Anger began to cloud Bendrick’s vision, and he clutched at the iron bars of the cell. He squeezed them as hard as he could.
Nothing happened.
Panic began to set in Bendrick’s mind. If he couldn’t break out of his cell, Ayda would be strangled to death. He tried to bend the bars again, but they wouldn’t give. He punched the wall around him, only to draw blood from his own fist. He looked at Ayda, sweat beginning to collect on his brow.
‘This halfling is an abomination of the Dark.’ Father Sabathiel raised his arms above his head and looked at the heavens. ‘It is a prayer of thanks we give the gods that I traveled down this path of Duren to save you from the horrors of the Dark.’
The townspeople began to clap and nod their heads. Ayda’s mouth opened, but Bendrick couldn’t quite hear what she was saying. Father Sabathiel turned to her and slammed his thick book on he
r face, drawing blood from it. She coughed and spit up blood, eyes focused on the heavens. Bendrick tried to pry the bars open, but they simply wouldn’t give. He clenched his teeth and again punched the wall. Pain shot through his arm, but he didn’t even pay attention to it. He stared in terror as the Chastiser placed his hand on a wooden lever and pulled it. The trap door beneath Ayda gave way, and she fell through it. The rope around her small neck snapped taught, and she hung in the air, gasping for breath. Her eyes whipped into the back of her skull as her neck began to break.
‘By the abandoned gods, no!’ Bendrick shouted and began to punch the wall, crushing his fingers. The chastiser turned to the cells and flashed his toothy grin.
‘Hear that, my children, and come to me,’ he said, resting on his long, spiked mace. ‘I’ll cleanse the bastard’s curse. Have no fear.’
Bendrick screamed and punched the wall once more, the crushed bones of his hand squishing in the wake of the blow. Blood dripped from the brick, and Bendrick sat down on his cot, defeated. He stared at his broken hand. Bits of bone and brick pierced his skin. Suddenly, he noticed a faint blue hue emit from his chest. He looked down and saw that it was pulsating. A worm seeped from his chest like a ghost. It had the head of a snake and flicked its tongue as its blue eyes stared into Bendrick. It was his power.
‘I have evolved, thanks to you, Bendrick, but we are far from our true potential. What say we save the life of a halfling?’
The snake-like thing lunged at Bendrick and bit him in the neck. Pain like he had never experienced before surged through him like a fierce fire, almost making him pass out. But before he knew it, he was alone in the cell. His scar was brightly glowing now. The fingers in his hand were healed. Bendrick stood up and stumbled to the wall. The power he felt was so amazing that he felt drunk. He punched the bloody wall. Brick and mortar gave way to Bendrick’s fist, and he climbed over the destroyed cell wall. The townspeople turned to look at the destruction in his wake. Fear permeated their faces as they took a step back from Bendrick.
