Retaliation (William of Archonia Book 2)

by Jarod Meyer

  “I hear you banging around back there, you know. If I was your enemy it would be easy to find you,” Tamara said, her voice echoing off the walls.

  “Excuse me; I just came from a world where the light is blinding all hours of the day. What do you suggest?” he asked, incredulously.

  Push out your energy, and feel the walls with it,” she responded, not stopping.

  William stopped and focused his mind. It made sense. His aura crept over his skin and then he pushed the bubble outwards with a decent effort. Almost immediately he could feel hundreds of creatures above him. He instinctively raised his eyes to the ceiling, though he was still blind, and immediately knew there were hundreds of creatures hanging above them.

  “What the hell, Tamara?” but he was cut short by the deafening screech of the Tera-spawn now engulfing him. The leathery wings beat against his face, their claws scratching and clawing against his armor.

  He tried reaching out with his aura again, but he couldn’t feel Tamara. The Tera-spawn took passes at him, strafing again and again, beating and battering against him, clawing and biting.

  William flailed his fists around in the darkness connecting with many, but with a wild miss his elbow jammed against stone, jarring his arm and shaking him violently.

  “Damn it,” he shouted and repulsed his aura away from himself violently. Light lit the room for a moment and he saw the black outlines of his enemies briefly as they smacked against the cavern walls around him. With the momentary relief he scrambled on hands and knees out of the bone pit, desperately trying to find footing.

  Something smashed into his jaw violently, two of his molars coming loose, his mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood.

  That was a foot.

  “Damn you, Tamara!” he blubbered, spitting blood into the darkness.

  He charged forward, striking much more decisively. His aura pinged off the rocks around him, bouncing back like sonar, affording him just enough of a picture of his surroundings that he could mount his counterattack.

  Piles of Tera-spawn screeched and died under the blows from his fists, but not before their teeth and claws found some gaps in his armor. Another blow from Tamara struck him in the midsection and he stumbled backwards, gripping his gut.

  He sent a blast of energy forward that exploded in a cloud of dust and debris, but did not find its mark. She landed three more hits before he realized the cavern had widened significantly. He pressed the energy away from himself again until it hugged every nook and crevice of the room.

  He picked up a disturbance to his left just before it hit him. He twisted away but one of Tamara’s blows landed against his shoulder. She grunted in pain as she struck his armor, but was gone again in an instant.

  He sensed the next assault with plenty of time. A shape of energy hurtled towards him, and he sent a left straight right at it with all his might, not caring where the hit landed.

  Tamara moaned as his fist connected. She flipped off to his right, hitting the stone ceiling and then crashed violently to the floor. She struggled to get up, but he was on her in an instant, pinning her down with a knee.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Training,” she hissed.

  William ignited his hand and light showered over the area. Tamara’s golden eyes glittered fiercely in the dark. She was gripping her side, and appeared to struggle breathing.

  William grabbed her arms and inspected the wound.

  “I broke some ribs…serves you right. If this was training - as you call it, I wouldn’t have used so much force.”

  His energy soaked into her side and he felt the bones realign. She lay quietly and motionless, until he was finished.

  “Don’t ever lead me into a den of Tera-spawn again,” William threatened.

  “I needed someone to clean them out, they were beginning to get too bold and bother my soldiers,” she chuckled, her laugh turning into a wince of pain. William shook his head.

  They spent the rest of the day clearing out the rest of the cavern, while William practiced sensing the Tera-spawn with his newfound ability.

  When they got back to Tamara’s hut it was nearly nightfall again. What little light the daytime sky normally provided was already gone. Tamara closed the shutters on her home, and lit a fire again. The wood was restocked, and mail was waiting on her table.

  William sat down by the fire, his body numb from combat and the freezing cold cavern.

  “How do you keep in contact with Achilles?” William asked, hoping that she used some interesting device.

  She looked at him from her chair, her green eyes piercing. “You ask a lot of questions,” she said dryly.

  “Curiosity kills,” he responded, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire.

  “There are three of us in total. We each take turns meeting Achilles, or one of his men on our side of the wall. Then we spread his message to the other two,” she said.

  “Why did you choose to be an agent for him over here?” William inquired.

  “I didn’t choose to be over here. My beliefs from my former life were that the more enemies I killed the greater honor I would receive when I left that world. When I was killed the reapers claimed me. I was strong enough to fight them off, so I have remained in this body. An Archonian soldier found me crying for help one day on this side of the wall. He did nothing, and I nearly died. I kept coming back, hoping that someone would help me. Finally he appeared. He told me I could not come into Archonia so easily, but he offered me a way,” she said, now looking into the flames, her eyes full of regret.

  “I understand.”

  “I hope that someday I will be allowed to live in his world, and that I may be forgiven for my evil deeds on Earth,” she finished.

  William’s gut wrenched. It sounded like their stories weren’t too dissimilar, and now they were letting people like her into Archonia, offering them a chance at a new life.

  “You are trying to buy your way into heaven?” he asked.

  She didn’t respond, and William instantly wondered if he went too far. He was torn. She seemed like she was a decent enough person. He saw a lot of himself in her.

  “I promise you that if I come out of this alive, I will take you with me to Archonia.”

  “You shouldn’t make promises that you cannot keep, Guardian,” she replied as if she had read his mind.

  * * *

  The guilt that haunted him the previous night spilled into the next morning. He’d made a promise that he may not be able to keep. But he hadn’t just lied to Tamara, but also to his friends. He told them he would come back.

  Tamara had gone. Evidently, she needed to meet with Achilles one last time before their journey. She made William stay, arguing that he would only slow her down. He was sure he was faster than she was, but he didn’t push the point.

  He exited the hut wrapped in his cloak, which he had augmented with even more furs.

  William sat on the steps leading to Tamara’s front door and leaned over, rubbing his chest to keep warm. He began to study the creatures as they went about their seemingly pointless existences.

  After a while, William realized that most didn’t do anything. They sat and stared at one another. Occasionally a fight would break out, ending in the demise of a lesser demon. Some of the creatures made clothing, which others would steal. Some ate whatever smaller creatures they could find, or simply fit in their mouths. This actually made William’s stomach growl. He had not eaten anything since he’d left Archonia days ago. You don’t need to eat idiot stifle it. This place seemed devoid of any pleasure.

  He wondered if the demons were intelligent. Or whether the reaping process rendered them simple minded, not unlike beasts.

  “You there,” William said to a decrepit looking creature. It appeared humanoid in shape, its eyes darting relentlessly.

  “Master?” the creature said.

  He paused to make sure he heard correctly. He didn’t think that they would accept him so ea
sily. He was starting to see the attraction of defecting. If you hadn’t been twisted by the reapers into something like this you would live like a king, just as Luxor had told him when they met on the battlefield.

  “What do you call yourself? Do you have a name?” he asked in an authoritative tone.

  “Yes. Yes, they call me seventeen stabs,” the little creature said, looking at the ground.

  William could only imagine why.

  “Was that always your name?” he inquired.

  “My name? They call me seventeen stabs. Oh no, here comes seventeen stabs. Not Todd. Todd was bad. Seventeen stabs now,” the creature rambled, before starting to sob. He slunk to the ground, tears pouring down his shallow cheeks.

  William felt some guilt. He’d slaughtered countless creatures such as this. They all did bad things on Earth, that much was apparent. But he didn’t know how bad they were. Did they deserve this life? Had they earned it? He was given a second chance. Why not them?

  Without warning the creature leapt up, and drew a small crooked knife from his rags, and jumped at another demon that was walking by him.

  “Filthy little thief!” he shouted, stabbing the creature wildly counting as he did. It counted seventeen before it finished. Then the little creature looked up at William, his emaciated body covered in thick, dark blood.

  William’s heart hardened. These creatures were beyond saving.

  The only decent thing to do is to euthanize them, he decided. Everyone that he killed would be one more that couldn’t harm another Archonian. The wretch gave William as twisted smile.

  “Get out of my sight,” William said.

  He spent the rest of the day on the porch of Tamara’s hut with his eyes closed, trying to feel all the creatures in the village. Every so often he would feel one get close. Then he would open his eyes, and shout at it, sending it running away in fear.

  William was bored, and he was getting annoyed by the rabble that these creatures made. Some would simply mumble for hours. Others would scream obscenities at inanimate objects. It was like water slowly dripping onto his forehead, or a sneeze that he just couldn’t quite get out. Why is Tamara not back yet? Why did she leave him here in this shit hole? Why did he agree to come here!?

  He growled under his breath, and decided to head back inside, where it was a little warmer, but stopped as he heard a rumble and cries. His head snapped up, and he saw at least fifty demons coming out of the woods from the south. They wore armor, and were armed. The demons in the camp jumped to their feet, and bellowed their own war cries in response. They picked up anything that they could find for a weapon.

  William spotted a man amongst the charge, his skin so pale the veins coursing through his face appeared like black cracks. He wore thick, black leather trousers and a matching jacket, a sleek, black trident clutched in his hand.

  Instinct kicked in and William deftly slipped Gungnir from its sheath, the blade humming with energy. He barreled through the initial wave of the attack like a tidal wave, pulverizing the creatures in his way.

  The pale-faced Dichonian saw William cutting down his soldier, and moved to intercept. The surprise on his face was clear. He didn’t recognize him.

  William had no idea who this enemy was, but the trident reminded him of pictures of the devil that he saw when he was younger. His mind raced with possibilities as he cut through the lesser demons.

  The threat of Dichonia was not in strength, but in numbers, and as more creatures continued to emerge from the tree line it became plain that his force was outnumbered.

  William didn’t waste time with words. A wave of energy ripped forth from his right hand, drawing a line in the dirt with grey light. He halted the attack on the left flank to give his soldiers some relief, but was caught off guard as the Dichonian struck.

  The thrust was powerful, but lackluster, aimed straight for center-mass. He curled his body around the blow, keeping the three sharp points from breaching his cuirass. The sheer blunt force of the blow staggered him however, bruising his already aching ribs. It also prevented him from successfully parrying the next blow as he staggered back, clutching his side.

  Before he could bring his blade to bear the bottom point of the trident filled his vision, raking his right eye. William cried out in pain and anger, half his vision effectively lost. But before the Dichonian could retract his bold thrust, William caught the trident in his right hand and pulled it in under his arm.

  Pale face was close now, and through one eye William saw the shock and fear on the man’s face. William struck hard with his forehead, butting the man in the nose. A satisfying crunch issued from the Dichonian’s face and his enemy jumped back twenty feet in response.

  The whole side of William’s face gushed with warm, sticky blood. He would slowly heal, but it would not be enough. During his momentary reprieve he clapped a hand to his face, and let his energy burn into his flesh. He cried in pain, but it was over in a heartbeat, the skin now cauterized shut.

  The Dichonian was old, and strong, but not nearly strong enough to be the Archon Lucifer, he reasoned. Nevertheless, he was deadly.

  The battle around gave the two a wide berth. William charged in, swinging Gungnir wildly. The Dichonian was on the defensive now, but with each strike William couldn’t get past the man’s long trident. This would have to be fast. He relaxed his right hand at his side while his left gripped his sword. He stepped quickly to the right, and let a ball of light fly towards his enemy. The man blocked the blast from hitting his face.

  When the residual energy subsided William was about ten feet to the left of him. The blast disoriented his enemy just enough. Gungnir flew forth, transforming into a chain. It wrapped around the trident, and with all his might he ripped it from The Dichonian’s grasp.

  The man jumped into the air immediately, following the trident as it soared behind William. Instead, he was met with a mighty blow from William’s elbow. He hit the ground with great force, William following, blade downward. Gungnir’s blade hummed cutting through the man’s chest.

  The man groaned as William’s sword pinned him to the ground. Driven by desperation, the Dichonian loosed a series of energy blasts into William’s breastplate. He toppled backwards, the pieces of his shattered breastplate falling away.

  The ground met him ferociously, battering him, but he regained his balance and sprung up in haste. Through the foray he spotted his sword sticking up in the air like a grave marker. He watched the Dichonian struggling to pull the weapon free. And yet the blade hadn’t just pierced his body, but sand deep into the ground. There was no way the Dichonian could have known that none but William could lift the blade.

  Stumbling forward, he saw the Dichonian losing strength, blood oozing in torrents from the wound. He wouldn’t take any chances. With one foot on the man’s body, he pulled Gungnir loose, and with a grunt he swung the blade down, separating the man’s head from his body.

  William breathed heavily, the rage still coursing through him. He looked around, realizing all the demons were now staring at him. His chest was now bare and burnt. His eye was gouged and bloodied. He was tired from the duel, and they knew it. They all attacked at once, swarming him. Even Tamara’s minions came forth.

  He managed one mighty wave of his sword, parting three demons into six pieces, before the wave fell over him. He fell on his butt and lost his grip on Gungnir just as cold metal dug into his stomach and something tore into his left arm. One of the demons grappled around his face, blocking his good eye. He kicked and scrambled, turning over on hands and knees, trying to get away from the onslaught. He felt two more daggers trying to find holes in the back of his armor, his blood mixing with the ash and dirt below.

  Think, William!

  But all hope seemed to be draining from him, his strength following suit. He was covered in demons, some stabbing each other for the chance to stab or bite him. He couldn’t breathe.

  Air. I need air. Air is in the Sky! Fly!

  His energy ex
ploded and he shot into the sky like a firework, leaving a trail of falling demon bodies. The frigid air felt glorious as he breathed deeply, sucking down ash and blood alike.

  He ripped two remaining lesser demons free and let them fall to the ground. His body felt hollow, the energy that normally rippled inside him now barely trickling forth. He only knew that air, blessed, frigid air, bathed his body. He breathed deeply, sucking down ash and blood alike. His body became heavier, his power of flight suddenly an almost insurmountable task. He was flying, but then in an instant, he was falling. William lifted his heavy arms and pushed forth every ounce of energy he could muster towards the ground. Light erupted, splashing against the swarming bodies, engulfing them in fiery energy. Everything went dim. He could only hope it was enough.

  ***

  Tamara’s eyes said it all. William already knew he looked like hell. He had only woken up moments ago and crawled his way out of a crater full of body parts which he had made out of demons.

  His eye was burned shut and he was caked in gore.

  “What in Dichonia happened?” Tamara demanded. William tossed the head of the fallen Archonian man at her feet.

  “You know him?” William asked. She looked at the face, its expression still mangled with fear.

  “Yes, his name was Hanon, and he ruled the nearest clan,” she said. She waited for William to say something, but he didn’t.

  “What happened?” she demanded again, inspecting William’s battered, mangled state.

  “He attacked your village, so I killed him,” William finally said, looking away.

  “And if you defeated him, where are all of my minions?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

  “I killed them too,” William replied.

  “What?! You had no right! They were mine! Do you have any idea how long it took me to….” she couldn’t finish.

  “They were twisted filth, and they deserved to die!” he spat.

  Tamara lunged at William in anger, but wasn’t prepared for the wrath that had been building inside him. She landed a punch square to his face. William’s head turned, but his body didn’t move. His hand wrapped around hers, and with all his strength he squeezed. She howled as he heard it crack. Then he hit her across the face with the back of his hand, sending her flying backward.