by J. D. Netto
Her right hand tightened around the nape of my neck. My nerves twitched beneath her grasp. As the blade of my sword penetrated Nylora’s side, a throbbing pain took my head.
My surroundings were as black as the night. I saw no one else but a grotesque monster ahead of me. Instead of its skin, a clear substance covered its frail-looking body. Its once vivacious blond curls were now lifeless. Despite the gruesome appearance, I could tell by the facial traits that this monster was Nylora. Why did she look so decomposed?
Her body shivered at every step I took. Low snarls came out of her as she wrapped her exposed chest with her skeletal arms. For a while, I gazed at the creature. A part of me was aware that this was the moment to wound her, but for some reason, I pitied her. What had led this woman to be this way? She had once been human and now she was a monster. My thoughts were drowned by the vivid images of how she and the others had killed Othaleeon and the Bellatorian soldiers. My hands pulled on her hair, lifting her chin to me. Empty cavities had taken the place of her eyes. For a few seconds, I stared at her, despising everything she had become. I rested my blade beneath her chin.
“Death,” I whispered, feeling my sword cut through her skin. A thick, dark liquid poured from the gushing wound.
The darkness faded like smoke. I took in a deep breath as I surveyed my surroundings. All in the room gazed at me with fervent eyes.
“Isaac…” Devin’s voice trailed off. “How?”
Something wet touched my boots. I gasped when I caught sight of Nylora’s bleeding body lying on the floor. Her beautiful pale skin disintegrated, revealing the clear substance that covered her skeletal body.
“Bastard,” Bartholomew declared, surprised at the sight. He tightened his trembling fists; his eyes bore into mine.
Confusion stirred inside of me when I saw my sword smeared with Nylora’s blood.
Wings similar to those of dragons sprung from Bartholomew’s back.
“No one can kill us!” Bartholomew shouted. “Who are you, boy?”
“My name is Isaac Khan and I am the bearer of the Diary of Lucifer.”
“Nylora was right when she said you were no ordinary boy.” Bartholomew pursed his lips and spit on Nylora’s decomposed body. “She was…always weak anyway.”
By now, Nylora’s body was nothing more than a pile of bones buried in a puddle of blood. The stench that rose from the decomposed corpse was reminiscent of a dead animal’s carcass.
From behind me, loud footsteps resounded. When I turned, all the courage inside of me vanished. Dahmian marched in front of them. Their wings were extended to their full width, some being longer than others. I counted, and with Dahmian they were a total of eight blood-drinkers. They stopped in a perfect line.
“Can you defeat us all, Isaac?” Bartholomew let out a malefic laugh as he walked to them. “See that boy?” He pointed to me. “He killed Nylora.”
“What are we going to do about that, Bartholomew?” Dahmian asked, crossing his hands.
The blood-drinkers had their eyes fixed on me.
“You will all pay for this,” one of them shouted in a high-pitched voice. “No man can kill us.” They broke out in animalistic growls and roars. The noise resembled a pack of lions roaring in the wilderness.
It was in that moment that a sudden blue fire appeared inside the fireplace. Confused, I gazed at the bright flames, wondering where they had come from. The cold air inside the room gave way to a rising temperature.
“You are all fools.” My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the voice that reverberated around us. It was Sathees’. A ghostly image of him appeared next to the empty throne. He was clothed in his white robes, and the markings on his body burned with an incandescent blue light. His eye sockets were consumed by flames.
A loud explosion occurred where Sathees stood, filling the air with a blinding silver.
“What are you trying to do, old man?” Dahmian shouted. “Scare us all with your cheap tricks?”
Loud roars echoed in my ears. My knees trembled when I saw wings appear. The smoke receded, revealing a beast that now stood in the room with all of us. A white dragon, armored from head to tail.
Bartholomew and the others stared at the beast with fearful eyes.
I looked at him with a smirk on my face.
“Cheap tricks?” I mouthed the words to him.
The blood-drinkers were agitated. They exchanged confused looks as they stepped away from the throne room.
“I will kill you,” Bartholomew screeched, pointing his finger toward me. “I will kill you.”
In a matter of seconds, their bodies turned to smoke. They flew through the windows, reducing them to shards as they broke through the glass.
“Cowards!” Devin shouted, watching our enemy flee.
For a while, I stared at the magnificent creature. How did Sathees know that we were here? Devin and King Demyon approached me.
Like the early morning mist, the white dragon’s body started to dwindle. The temperature in the room dropped. The flames inside the fireplace ceased to burn. Darkness settled once again.
Sathees lay on the ground, unconscious. To my relief, next to him were Xylia and Nathan. All three of us tended to them.
“Are the others safe?” I asked Devin as he knelt next to Nathan.
Devin shot me a cold stare.
“They are.” His voice was cold. By the look on his face, I knew what question lingered in his mind. Little did he know that I was also unaware of how I had been able to take Nylora’s life.
“Where are they?” I asked him. I grasped Xylia’s cold hand; my eyes trailed across the wounds on her fingertips. Her face was covered in cuts and bruises.
“In the dungeons,” King Demyon replied from my right. “I ordered them to wait for us there.”
Once again I looked at Devin. He shied away from my gaze.
All three of them lay like the dead.
“What is wrong with them?” I feared for their lives.
“Sathees protected them by using the dragon Shield. The shield will protect the body but it will put it into a dormant state. They will wake soon,” said King Demyon. “Devin,” he continued. “Take Xylia and Nathan to where the others are. I will care for Sathees.”
“Alright,” Devin mumbled in response to the king’s request. With steady hands, he set Nathan on his shoulders.
My entire body trembled as I grabbed ahold of Xylia. I was weak.
VII
King Demyon carried Sathees, exiting the room through the center door located behind the throne. Devin made his way out using the doorway located on our right. I followed. We were led down a long and narrow passageway.
At every footstep, I felt a weight growing in my mind. I tried to understand how I had been able to defeat Nylora. I had lost my abilities after my return from the Wastelands, but this newfound power was undecipherable to me. Devin seemed apprehensive, his eyes never looking at me once.
The precarious lighting made it difficult to see. Torches had been sporadically placed on the mildewed walls of the passageway.
“When did the blood-drinkers’ attack commence?” I asked Devin, attempting to start a conversation.
“Moments after you left with Xylia, Nathan, and Sathees, one of the Bellatorian guards barged into the throne room, holding the head of a man. His ears had been lacerated, and on his forehead the word ‘war’ had been carved.” He made no effort to look at me. “Shortly after, the Bellatorian soldiers flocked inside the castle as the sound of drums resounded. They wanted to protect the king.” He shook his head from one side to another. “King Demyon ordered the book-bearers to stay hidden in the dungeons until he felt it was safe for them to come out.”
I slowed my pace, allowing Devin to go ahead of me. Even if just for a short while, I wanted solitude. Despite the alarming situation we were all in, I still wanted to find the answers I was looking for.
I noticed the passageway led us in the direction of a stone wall.
&
nbsp; “Any plans on how we will get to the other side?” I asked.
With his right hand, Devin reached inside the satchel around his shoulder, taking out a turquoise jewel shaped like a circle.
“What is that?” My eyes were fixed on the object.
“The Lion’s Stare.” His hand tightened its grasp around the object. “King Demyon said it would reveal to us the way out of the passageway.”
I felt a tremor beneath my feet. Startled, I gazed as the wall in front of us opened wide like a door. I was surprised to see that it had led us to the hallway where my room was located.
This side of the castle was untouched. The flames still burned bright and a sweet aroma still lingered in the air. Through the window I saw that the snowstorm had ceased.
“Lay her in that room.” Devin cocked his head to the right. “I will be waiting for you here.” There was tension in his voice.
“Alright,” I said.
He walked in the opposite direction, entering one of the other rooms.
I twisted the doorknob, stepping inside the room. The crystal chandelier was the first thing that caught my eye. The satin curtains were as white as a dove’s feather.
I laid Xylia on the snow-white mattress. I grabbed one of the pillows and placed it under her head. I sat beside her, holding her cold hand. There was something entrancing about this girl. She seemed so bold, yet so fragile. Though I knew so little about her, through her actions I could tell that her past was filled with ghosts.
That was the moment when I felt the weight of my responsibility. I had returned from the Wastelands of Tristar not only to protect a book, but to guard the people of Elysium. The Creator had sent these bearers my way for a reason that I was yet to discover. Regardless of how long it took for this reason to be revealed, I wanted to protect them.
I rose to my feet as I heard footsteps and whispers outside of the room. I gave Xylia one last look before I headed out. I wanted to know how Sathees had managed to escape. Where had he gone during the attack in the mountain?
I stepped outside of the room and was relieved to see my companions standing next to Devin. Demetre gave me a half-hearted smile.
“We were worried about you.” He greeted me with a hug. “I wanted to come out and fight.”
“We had strict orders from the king to stay hidden until it was safe,” Ballard remarked with an unsettling voice.
Demetre had a rugged brown satchel hanging on his shoulder.
“I knew they were going to come looking for it.” He extended the satchel to me. “It was the first thing I went after before we went into hiding.”
“Thank you.” My hands reached for the object I despised. “Where are the other books? Are they safe?”
“We all have our books, Isaac,” said Adara with her soft voice. “We were not fools to leave them behind.”
“Why did you take so long to return?” Sweat trickled down Petra’s brow. “Were you all attacked while you were out there?”
“Before Isaac answers that question, I would like him to tell me something first,” Devin said, biting his bottom lip. “How did you kill the blood-drinker?” He scowled at me.
“I wish it was that easy to explain, Devin.” I trailed my hand across my hair while shaking my head. “Ever since my return from the Wastelands, my powers have…changed.”
An uncomfortable silence hovered. They expected me to elaborate on my answer.
“You stood in front of her as still as a statue, and in a matter of seconds, she fell down dead.” Devin stabbed his finger toward the ground. “You must know what you did.”
“You can enter the mind, Isaac?” Petra’s mouth gaped open, his chestnut eyes widening in amazement.
“I could sense their souls and see the last images they saw before they died, but I was never able to enter the mind,” I affirmed, confused.
“Isaac, entering the mind is a dark and dangerous power.” Devin walked toward me. “Look at Nephele. She can enter the mind of her enemies through their dreams. She can inflict pain with a simple thought.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Why would you possess such power?”
“Nephele,” I mumbled to myself, recalling the images I had seen when I awoke in my room. Had I killed her? Had I destroyed her? I thought.
“Demetre,” Adara said. “Is there anything different about you ever since your return?” Her brown eyes glistened.
He was silent for a while, thinking.
“I had no abilities before, and I have none now,” he answered.
“Sathees,” I said. “I believe he knows. As we made our way to the Dragon Tamers, he mentioned something about me entering the minds of my enemies.”
“We will wait for him to—” Devin was interrupted by loud shouts and screams of men coming from outside of the castle.
“What is that?” Creases appeared between Petra’s eyebrows as he approached the window.
I felt my heart skip a beat once my eyes caught sight of the violent scene. Outside the castle walls, a riot was taking place. The people of Bellator had gathered at the foot of the wall around the castle with torches and spears, clamoring and shouting.
“What is going on?” Demetre’s voice was caught in the back of his throat.
I heard rapid footsteps approaching. I glanced over my shoulder and saw King Demyon walking in our direction, accompanied by five of the Seven Wise. Next to them walked a young boy. His vacant eyes trailed across the room. His clothes were covered in dirt and blood.
“What is happening out there, king?” Devin asked, looking at the boy. “Who is this? What happened to him?”
King Demyon approached the window.
“They want answers, Devin. The people want answers,” he said, resting his head against the glass. “This boy ran to the castle before the riot began. One of our soldiers helped him.”
The young boy’s body shivered as his jaw chattered. There was an empty stare in his brown eyes.
“Young one.” With his mouth open, the boy lifted his eyes to King Demyon. “Tell us what happened.”
“They came earlier today,” the boy started with a brittle voice. “One had red eyes…and teeth like a mountain lion’s.” He released a long breath, shivering as tears ran down his face.
“He speaks of the blood-drinkers,” I whispered as my eyes caught sight of the bruises that covered the boy’s arms.
“Were they the ones that barged their way inside the castle?” Adara asked, watching the boy with glistening eyes.
“Yes,” I replied.
“They started killing everybody. There was no mercy in their eyes. They murdered families, hundreds of them. They said they were looking for a dark book.” The boy’s words turned into weeping.
“Are they fighting for Lucifer?” Petra asked.
“We are not yet sure where their allegiance lies,” one of the Wise Men replied. He resembled Sathees; he had no hair, and his eyes were of an olive color. There were markings on his skin.
“They said they wanted the Book of Letters,” the boy continued. “One of the creatures said that the book was inside the castle. He claimed that they would only stop slaughtering the families if the book was handed to them.”
“We do not have the Book of Letters in our possession. Why would they think the book is with us?” Adara asked in an alarmed voice.
“You do have the book,” King Demyon stated in a somber tone. “Only, you were not aware that you had it.”
The clamoring of the people grew louder as we all fell silent.
“Who is the bearer of the book?” Adara’s eyes trailed across the room, looking at each one of us.
King Demyon strode his way toward Ballard.
“Ballard is the bearer of the Book of Letters,” he affirmed.
Ballard’s eyes widened. He reached inside his battered satchel, taking out the mysterious object. The book resembled the Diary, except for the symbol etched into the cover: three straight lines inside a circle.
“My boy, your book is al
so called the Book of the Destroyer. Like all of the other books you bear, it was written by Lucifer. The difference is that this one has been opened before.” King Demyon placed his hand atop the dark object. “Your book led the Kingdom of Madbouseux to its doom. Bartholomew found it hundreds of years ago, soon after the attack against the Council in Justicia. Upon selling his soul to Lucifer, he opened the book and learned its forbidden secrets. It contained a curse that allowed mankind to live forever if they consumed human blood. The curse can only be performed in the presence of this book.”
I felt tension rise the moment King Demyon uttered the last words. Not only did we have to deal with Fallen Stars, Shadows, and Nephilins, but we also had a new enemy rising.
“They were the ones that attacked us today,” King Demyon continued.
“How many blood-drinkers were there?” Ballard asked.
“There were ten of them.” King Demyon turned his face to me. “Until Isaac killed Nylora.”
The roar of the crowd emerged as a battle cry. My eyes looked outside; fear rushed inside of me. The people that we were bound to protect had turned against us.
“To think that those that died here today will turn into Shadows,” Adara said in a sorrowful voice, resting her hand against the window.
“Even if the blood-drinkers are not fighting for Lucifer, the Fallen Stars will still benefit from their attack.” Devin lowered his head, reclining against the wall. “Will this evil ever cease?”
“I fear that is not the worst that could happen,” King Demyon said. “If the Book of Letters is taken by them, they will once again be able to transform humans into blood-drinkers, creating an army that no weapon can destroy.”
Ballard looked at the ground, pressing his fingers against his chin.
“What must we do?” Demetre whispered, turning his eyes to me.
King Demyon was silent for a short while.
“Give me the Lion’s Stare, Devin,” he requested, extending his hand.
Devin handed him the round jewel.
I noticed a circling mist hovering inside the Lion’s Stare as King Demyon held the object close to his eyes. The blood seemed to have left his face as his jaw opened.
