“What are you doing?” Kaylis asked while looking troubled. “I thought we were going to look for the crystals?”
Smiling, Darshun looked to him, a dominant stare. “I am but you are not.”
“What?”
“Listen, if I’m alone and without concern for your safety, my focus will be much clearer. Do not worry, this looks like the back of the castle and being it is nightfall, no one should see you.”
“I will not abandon you.”
Darshun’s eyes flashed and he stepped toward him. “As your Guardian, I command it. I’m not going to tell you a second time, Kaylis.”
Kaylis sighed and then knelt down before him. “Very well. As you wish. I thank you for my freedom, my Guardian.”
“Eh, there is no need for worship,” Darshun scoffed while blushing cherry-red, regretting using Kaylis’ loyalty to his advantage.
“I am venerating you Darshun, not worshiping.”
“All right, all right, no more. Please stand.”
“As you wish.”
Darshun gave him a hard stare. “You really believe I am the promised Guardian?”
“With all my heart.”
Darshun sighed. “Pray for me then, because, well—I haven’t fully accepted it, not like you and Kelarin.”
“I understand. I too hold incompetence about being a warrior, as my father wanted me to become. Never have I held a desire for battle or to follow in the traditions of our people.”
“Being Nasharin is more than battle. It is a way of life to protect others in need.”
“So isn’t the calling of Guardian, is it not?”
Darshun fell silent.
“But you feel no desire to follow in the footsteps of the past Guardians. The will isn’t there—”
“It’s not a matter of will.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing, forget it. Forget everything I said. You best get going. We have been blessed to have no interruptions this far. Let’s not ruin that by delaying. Though I don’t know this land, so cannot tell you were to venture.”
“That is the Azriel River. I could follow that.”
“That’s the Azriel River?”
“Why yes. It begins a little north from here and flows straight through the east until it reaches the Great Sea.”
“That river also flows close to Loreladia, the Loreladia I am from.”
Kaylis’ eyes lit up. “I could venture there!”
“Of course. Just follow the river east and you shall come upon Arundel Mountain. There is a great tree known as Merlin, created by the Air Wizard Azarius long ago that stands as high as the mountain. It can be seen from the river and even glows at night. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it. Loreladia is just a few days from there further east. But do be careful. Stay off of any main trails and roadways they are bound to be full of the Dark.”
“I will and you do the same until we meet again.”
“Indeed so. And Kaylis, if you happen to see my father before I, tell him not to worry, that this will all be over soon.”
Kaylis nodded, then began his descent to freedom.
Darshun watched as he slid further and further down the rope, hoping no enemy would spot him because of the full moon’s light.
Without a peep, everything went smoothly as Kaylis made it to the bottom and jumped the last remaining few feet, splashing a little in the water. He crept away into the forest.
Darshun cut the rope. “Stay alive brother,” he whispered and then stormed off, following after the crystals using his guardian-like senses.
He felt as if he’d been walking for a half hour or more, roaming long, sometimes twisty corridors and yet not one guard. Perhaps at night, they seldom patrolled or maybe Darshun killed them all? Whatever it was, he didn’t like how incredibly easy everything seemed to be going. Even the presence of the crystals for a moment came clearer, telling him which way to go. Fate may have been lending a hand but Darshun didn’t feel fortunate. Nevertheless, he continued on, traveling back up the stairs to the third level, searching long dark hallway after long dark hallway until finally coming to something new, a stairway leading to a fourth level, where Abaddon’s lair was said to be.
“Darshun…” spoke an eerie voice fainter than a whisper. It’d come from the top of the stairway.
Darshun peered into the dark and he could’ve sworn he saw a pair of yellow eyes flash before fading into shadow. Quickly his hand reached for his sword, but he did not unsheathe, the voice never spoke again. “I am here,” he whispered back.
At the very same time, the presence of the Wizard Crystals felt much stronger, the powers drifting down from the fourth level. Except there seemed to be a change in the feeling, for they no longer felt as they did minutes ago, powerful, majestic, holy and sensational! Instead, the feelings were sorrow, emptiness, darkness and despair. Perhaps anger too. How could the crystals make such dramatic changes in so little time? How could holy objects of Light ever display such feelings in the first place?
Then he remembered the words of Kelarin. “Understand this, if you ever sense feelings of ungodliness or impurity coming from the crystals, abandon their rescue immediately! For it means Abaddon has already corrupted them. Your best chance would be to escape and continue on with your next task, involving the necklace you carry.”
This must be what Kelarin spoke of. No feelings of dread and darkness would originate from such objects of sacredness. If so, then I have no point in wandering up after them. I best flee this place and go after her, like I originally wanted to do anyway. Though Kaylis said I would get lost in Syngothra, even killed. But he doesn't know the extent of my power. Besides, what else am I supposed to do? “Olchemy is nowhere to be found. I could look for him, perhaps, or maybe travel to Loreladia in search of my father, but would that not be wasting precious time?” Debating himself, he finally came to a conclusion. “Apologies my Nasharin brother, I am going after Kelarin, my heart cannot bear the thought of her torture, especially with it being my fault. Afterward, I'll find a way to the Unholy Altar on my own.”
Unexpectedly, just prior to him turning around to flee, an incredible almost uncontrollable hunger swept his soul. A feeling of not only seducing darkness, but also immense power, drifting into every pore of his body. He could feel it and he knew it could feel him, this time stronger than ever. Saliva dripped from his mouth, his hands trembled in excitement. The frenzy awakened and all logical thoughts of abandoning Castle Volborg emptied his mind, even the lovely Elf Kelarin. Darshun must track down this opponent his Nasharin blood was boiling to challenge his power and above all, he must stand triumphant. Forgetting all warnings, he took a deep breath and began the long ascent.
The stairway came to an end, stopping next to a colossal size steel door. Upon it, a detailed image of a black man-like serpent wearing a purple crown. A spherical sapphire crystal rested in between its fangs, having blood red lines ‘oozing’ over blotches of brown.
There didn’t seem to be a handle on the door, so he attempted to force it open. Then, before displaying any amount of power it suddenly opened by itself. Apparently, something or someone dared him to pass through. Gladly, he accepted the ‘invitation’ and entered.
A hallway came next and it seemed to go on for a great distance. On each side of the hall were hideous statues, some having three heads with incredibly grotesque faces. Others resembling human-like serpent creatures or some strange type of reptile, but the most fearful in appearance were the great horned devilish looking beasts—all of these graven images were holding a torch as if to light the way.
I wonder if these are what demons look like? Darshun shifted his head to and fro of them. Or are they gods of suffering and death? There’s so many of them. Who could worship such despicable creatures?
After a short cringe, he traveled along, soon coming to a strange pool of green liquid confined within a circular metal container and Darshun couldn’t help but gaze into it. No sooner than he did when mul
tiple visions appeared. There were black rocky mountains breathing fire atop of their peaks, creatures similar to the statues he’d just passed roamed about. The sky darkened and seemed to have six moons, or were they stars? He wasn’t sure, for they each hung there burning with crimson flames. Glancing away and rubbing his eyes, the images disappeared. “Am I losing my mind or is this a trick of the Dark?”
Beside the pool there were stairs that led up. “What’s this, a fifth level? Interesting.” He proceeded and upon reaching the top, saw many fires flickering in the distance. Cautiously approaching them, he realized the fires were candles stationed in the palms of two imp-like gargoyles, each standing to the left and right sides of a great black metal throne. Then he glanced over to his left and surprisingly saw three Wizard Crystals somehow ‘floating’ in a dark-purple cauldron. There seemed to be the Earth, the Fire and the Water crystal but among them was also a black crystal having violet streaks of what would seem like lightning repetitively rushing out of it and swarming around the others.
“I must be in the Demon Lord’s lair and that must be—the Dark Crystal. Oh wow, I can feel its evil. Terrible!” He looked again at the Wizard Crystals and noticed something different about them. There were shades of black swirled in with their natural colors and now whenever Darshun tried to sense their presence he felt nothing, not even the strange feelings of anger or despair the crystals were omitting just minutes ago—as if the crystals didn’t exist anymore—at least these three. “What—what does this mean?” Slowly, he reached out to grab the Water Crystal but the violet streaks struck his hand, jolting him away.
“Fascinating, are they not, young Nasharin?” spoke a deep voice from behind.
He spun around and in the shadows of the lair and witnessed two eyes of fire staring at him with a chilling gaze that shattered his spirit. “You!” Darshun whispered, licking his lips, eager to witness him.
The eyes disappeared, then out from the darkness walked a creature whose appearance took Darshun’s breath away. It stood at least eight feet tall, having dark-red scaly skin like a serpent, a set of black horns upon its head—like a goat; yellow eyes a face of hideous evil and a long heavy tail swaying to and fro, occasionally smacking the ground causing a tremble. The creature wore strange almost beautiful garments. A dark-purplish cloak over a crimson supertunic glistening with magic and a thick black leather belt, holding two swords enclosed within sheaths. But no shoes did it wear. Its large six toed—clawed feet appeared scaly enough to act as strong boots. “Who would have thought such objects of purity would succumb to my hands,” it said.
Darshun remained silent, only staring at this creature before him who spoke with a voice of power, deep, calm and fearless, even a little seductive.
“You are no ordinary warrior. Indeed you are unique even among your race, possessing great power.”
“And how would you know?” Darshun asked.
“Because I felt your power the day of the arena.”
“So, you can sense energies also,” Darshun surmised, thinking only Nasharins and Wizards shared the trait.
“Indeed, and I’ve kept my senses locked onto you. The time spent in the Arion Chamber, escaping that chamber, even now. Did you think you made it here all on your own? It was I who ordered my minions to stop their night patrols and to report to the first level, instructed not to interfere with any suspicious wanderers roaming the halls. Except of course, the guards stationed outside the armory, six highly trained Draconian warriors, each masters of the fighting arts. Yes, I knew you’d be going there for the precious Milandrith Metal. I avoided warning them for a test to see if you might pass, and pass you did, easily. Like I, you’re a God among men, among creatures. That is why I led you here, opened the door to my lair and revealed myself to you. For you and I are not common soldiers. We do not storm off into battle swinging mere swords, axes; hand-to-hand fighting or common magician spells like the other fleas. Instead, we stand as the deadliest of weapons, possessing powers others can never fathom. Few there are like that in this world. You should be proud.”
“I am nothing like you!” Darshun shouted. “Don’t compare yourself.”
“In ‘strength’ you are nothing to me,” it said, unleashing a mild growl. “But in evil, we shall have to see. Tell me, do you not desire ultimate power, wealth and beauty? Do you not desire all satisfactions the flesh has to offer? I could give this to you. I could make you King of the New World to come, for it shall be mine soon enough. Nothing will exist unless it is my will. So I ask of you to join me. It would be shameful to have your talents go to waste. Think and answer wisely young Nasharin.”
“Without a doubt you are the one called ‘Abaddon.’ ”
“I am.”
“They say you are a God, having no beginning or end and many fear you.”
He grinned, revealing a set of fangs.
“But you disgust me and I will never join your wickedness. Instead,” he smirked, “I am going to destroy you…Demon.” In a sudden flash of light, Darshun transformed. His aura of fire scorched around him higher and fiercer than ever before, appearing as a glowing red star, descended from the Heavens.
“Unleashing your frenzy I see, eager to challenge me for I know you sense the great depths of my power. Yours is also astounding, young Nasharin beautifully astounding. However you are being overconfident, mocking me as if I were a mortal like yourself. Well, I can assure you that by the end of this battle you will regret having denied my offer. Maybe then, you might reconsider. Shall we see?” Abaddon pointed a finger at him, shooting out a sudden burst of demonic fire.
Darshun jolted aside while dodging it.
Then Abaddon fired again, multiple shots, one after another.
Still, Darshun easily avoided every one and the wall behind him became charred rock.
Abaddon next held out his right hand and above the palm, formed a concentrated ball of dark energy with purple static-like streaks circling around it. With a freakish grin, he cast the ball forward.
This time, instead of dodging, Darshun stood his ground and struck the ball with his fist smashing it into the wall. The explosion shook the lair and a large portion of rock was reduced to pebbles and dust.
“Impressive,” Abaddon cheered, “Deflecting energy with your mere palm. Now let’s see how efficient you handle your sword.” He unsheathed his instrument of death, the silver glistening.
Darshun drew his and they clashed once, locking their weapons in place. Neither made a move…like a pair of gargoyles they kept still, eyes bent on one another. Gradually, their swords began to enflame, Darshun’s burning red and Abaddon’s yellow and orange, the color of nature fire. But his fire was far from natural—a Demon’s fire—fire that burns hotter and fiercer than anything natural.
Darshun released his blade and led the offense.
Abaddon blocked every swing, blow or thrust he made, then attacked while Darshun defended just the same. Streaks of fire flew all over the lair from the intensity of their blows; neither could land a hit and they came to a halt.
“Very good indeed Nasharin!” Abaddon laughed. “It has been far too long since I was offered a worthy opponent.”
“This battle will be your last,” Darshun smirked.
“We shall see.”
Darshun swung at Abaddon’s head; the Demon stooped low dodging the attack then jabbed toward Darshun’s stomach. Incredibly Darshun seemed to ‘disappear’ then ‘reappear’ behind him and punched his hard scaly back. The blow threw him against the wall and once more Darshun swung at his head. Abaddon ducked causing the sword to pierce the rock.
Again they halted.
The Demon Lord thrust forward, his hand shooting another stream of fire, foreknowing Darshun would dodge it. When he did, Abaddon rapidly charged forward, catching him off guard and kicked his ribs, knocking the breath out of him, then swung his tail and whipped him in his chest.
Darshun was yanked off his feet, flying across the lair and tumbling onto the
stone ground. He lay quiet for a moment trying to catch his breath, then stood up and immediately charged, swinging the sword once close enough.
Grinning, Abaddon moved aside, dodged and punched him in his face.
The blow plunged him the ground a second time. The left side of his face felt swollen and the cheekbone slightly cracked—a few seconds later, he arose spitting out a mouthful of blood.
“Shall we continue boy?” he asked, conceit filling his tone.
Darshun’s eyes flashed. “Of course.” He threw a fast-unexpected kick, striking Abaddon in the arm that held his sword.
He hollered in pain, dropping the weapon.
Then Darshun jumped up, spinning his other leg around and kicked him in the face. When he landed, he made a tightly clenched fist and punched the Demon in the stomach.
Abaddon crouched over. “Accursed Nasharin!” he said and swung his tail.
However, this time Darshun caught it, lifted him into the air, spun him around and around in circles. He then threw him into one of the gargoyle statues next to the throne, cracking it to pieces. “You dropped your sword,” Darshun quipped and kicked it over.
Abaddon stood up and wiped away the blood dripping from his nose. “You are the first mortal to draw ever blood from me in this realm.”
“Why thank you,” Darshun smiled.
Ignoring the haughtiness Abaddon responded, “You are different than your ancestors, for they were mere flies. I destroyed every one of them.”
“Destroyed my ancestors? How do you mean?”
Abaddon laughed. “It was I who cast that plague of death upon your people. Those who escaped I hunted down and killed with this very sword I hold. Though, it seems some of you have survived. No matter, you have only prolonged your death. Today, you shall join your pathetic race…after I tear you apart.”
Crossing Forbidden Lines (Guardian Series Book 2) Page 19
