by J. D. Netto
Isaac turned, facing everyone around the fireplace.
“Are you all afraid of our enemy?” he inquired in a loud voice. “Are you?”
Xylia lifted her eyes to him. “Not only do we fear our enemy, Isaac. We fear that we might lose our lives during this war.”
“Then you are not worthy of being on this journey.” There was anger inside his iridescent eyes. “While you fear for your lives, the ones we love are losing theirs.”
“We never asked to be bearers,” Petra remarked. “We never asked for any of this to happen.”
“But it did,” Isaac said with an edge to his voice. “We are the bearers of the five books of Lucifer and we are being hunted by the Fallen Stars, the Nephilins, and now the blood-drinkers.” With slow steps, he paced around the room. “Though they are not here, every time fear finds its way into our hearts, they win. We cannot be afraid of our doom if it brings redemption to Elysium. We might have lost loved ones, but there is still a whole world that needs to be saved. Though the darkness might seem to thicken every day, we must believe that there is strength in us to destroy it.”
The crackling sound of the flames loudened as silence settled.
“Isaac is right,” Demetre said. “Those that we have lost must inspire us to fight for those that are alive.”
“Your courage is admirable,” Xylia retorted, standing to her feet. “Yet you seem to forget that we are not the ones that returned from the Wastelands. We are not as brave as you.”
“I heard it said once that a man is as man thinks, Xylia,” said Petra, looking at me from the corner of his eye. “We must believe that there is a greater purpose behind us having these books.”
“In the Prison of Despair, Death took me to the Wastelands of Tristar and showed me the spirits of those that died without knowledge of the truth. Their souls are being controlled by the Fallen Stars, and while they have that control, those people will never rest. They will always remain in the Wastelands, unconscious.” Isaac raised his right hand, closing it into a fist. “It is not that we must not be afraid. We must not allow fear to control our actions anymore.”
“So we fight for the freedom of the living and the dead?” Petra asked in a low voice.
“Yes, my friend.” Isaac turned to Petra. “If those that we loved died ignorant of the truth about Lucifer and the Creator, their spirits are also prisoners in the Wastelands of Tristar and their souls are being controlled by the Fallen.”
All in the room gazed at Isaac. They knew—we knew—that if fear continued to dictate our actions, we would soon meet our doom.
After all were done eating and chatting, they started making their way one by one up the stairs into the rooms. At least tonight we had a roof over our heads.
“Are you coming up, Devin?” Demetre asked.
“I will be fine here.” I remained seated in front of the fireplace, watching the flames burn the logs into ashes.
XII
Though my eyelids were heavy, I could not sleep. In my mind, I kept seeing the frightening image of the creature that had attacked me. Never in my fourteen hundred years had I seen such a monstrosity. What other devilries had infiltrated Elysium? My mind was too preoccupied with the many unanswered questions that still lingered. I watched the fire burn low while trying to think of logical answers.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow outside. I heard the faint neigh of a horse and the groans of a man.
I grabbed my sword, rising to my feet. After a couple of seconds, the footsteps ceased. I could still hear the labored breaths of both the horse and the man.
With great caution, I opened the door. The cold air invaded the living room. I stepped outside and caught sight of the animal and its rider standing immobile in front of the door. The man was wrapped in a thick, dark fur cape; his head curved down.
Was he an enemy? Where had this man come from?
He let out painful groans as he lifted his head.
“Help me,” he whispered in a broken voice.
“Who are you?” With caution, I took three steps in his direction, my feet sinking beneath the snow.
“Help…” His voice trailed off as he fell unconscious. I ran to him once I realized that he was about to fall from his horse. The moment my hands touched him, I smelled the pungent odor of rotten flesh. I held my breath, fixing my eyes on his narrow face. A gash flowing with blood took the place of his right eye. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties; a tattered dark beard covered his face. The horse was also wounded with a long cut on its neck.
“Devin!” I looked back and saw Isaac running toward me. “Who is this man?”
“I am not sure. He is badly wounded.” The man groaned in pain. “Take the horse to the stall while I bring him inside,” I said, rushing my way to the house.
Where had this man come from? What kind of creature had wounded him this way?
“Ballard!” I yelled, marching up the stairs. The man let out low groans.
“Yes,” he croaked. He opened the door of his room, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Petra stood behind him with a worried look on his face.
“I need you.” I barged inside.
“Who is that? What is that smell?” Petra inquired, making his way to the window. He covered his nose.
“I don’t know.” I laid him on the bed. Demetre entered the room. His face was shrouded with fear once he laid eyes on the man.
“Help.” The man struggled to raise his left hand. Sweat poured down his face like a waterfall.
“Get me water, Petra,” Ballard ordered while analyzing the severe condition of the man’s face. Petra rushed his way out.
“What is all this noise?” Xylia stood under the doorpost. Her eyes widened once she saw the horrific scene. “How may I help?” She rushed her way to us.
“Where is Adara?” I asked, worried.
“Sleeping with the boy,” she responded, watching the man’s wounded face.
“He has a high fever.” Ballard had his hand pressed against the stranger’s forehead.
Petra rushed into the room holding a silver metal bucket.
“Here is the water,” he said, laying the bucket next to the bed.
“Get me my satchel,” Ballard said, his lips quivering. I looked at him, confused as to why his eyes were brimming with tears.
Demetre grabbed ahold of the satchel that was on the floor. “Here, Ballard.”
Ballard was about to reach for it when he recoiled his hands.
“Inside, there is a small glass vial with a bright golden liquid. Find it, please.” He spoke in an agitated voice, taking long deep breaths, fixing his gaze on the man once again. Tears started pouring from his tired brown eyes.
“Why don’t you—”
“Please, Demetre!” he shouted. “Just…find it.”
Demetre’s lips went rigid. He lowered his head, searching for the object Ballard needed.
“Is this it?” he asked, hopeful. In his hand was a vial filled with a yellow liquid.
Ballard shot him a quick glance and gave him a silent nod. He reached for the object with trembling hands.
“Ballard,” I grasped his wrist, “this man needs your help. He is dying. Can you help him?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
With quivering breaths, he tightened his eyelids together, pressing his fingers between his eyebrows.
I released his wrist. He reached for the vial, pouring the liquid into the bucket.
“Now we wait,” he whispered, looking at the man.
“How long?” I heard the man grind his teeth as he groaned. “He does not have much time.”
“Just a few seconds,” he replied.
“Help,” he whispered once again as he tried to raise his left hand.
“You will be fine, sir,” said Ballard, grasping the man’s weak hand.
Xylia, Petra, and Demetre watched the scene with fervent eyes.
“Where is Isaac?” Demetre’s eyes surveyed
the room.
“He should be outside. I asked him to take this man’s horse to the stall,” I replied, keeping my eyes focused on the man.
“I will go find him,” Demetre said, dashing out of the room.
“I’ll come with you,” added Petra as he followed him.
Ballard cupped his hands and submerged them in the golden liquid in the bucket. A fragrance similar to that of blooming daisies arose.
He held his hands over the man’s face, letting the liquid drip from his palms and fingers. He bit the corner of his lip as the tears once again appeared. With a vacant expression, he watched the drops of golden fluid touch the man’s wounds, run down his tattered beard, and drip on the sheets that covered the bed.
Moments later, the man’s moaning ceased; his breathing was smooth and steady.
I sighed, resting my right elbow on my knee.
“Good job,” I murmured, tapping Ballard on the shoulder.
“My father taught me well.” He wiped his nose with his right wrist. He rose to his feet and marched down the wooden staircase.
“I will go check on Adara and the boy.” Xylia exited the room.
With my head resting on my hands, I sat for a while in silence.
“Darkness will soon cover all of Elysium,” said the man, turning his head to the side.
“Do you have a name?” I asked, crossing my hands.
With an empty stare, he gazed at the door. His chest arose with difficulty as he tried to breathe.
“Why does it matter?” he groaned. “I will probably be dead in a couple of hours.”
“Even those that have died have names.” My hand strolled across my hair. “My name is Devin.”
With great struggle, the man turned his head to me; his moss green eye looked into mine.
“You are not ordinary,” he remarked as he analyzed my face. “I have never seen eyes as blue as yours.” I felt his right hand tightening around my own. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You are welcome.” The sight of his wound caused my stomach to churn. “What happened to you?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes on his face.
For a while, he looked at the ceiling; his throat let out low grunts and moans.
“A man with wings like a dragon and eyes like blood walked inside my home. He claimed that King Demyon had gone insane and stolen a book that could destroy the entire world.” Anxiety crawled inside of me. I knew who he spoke about. “He clasped my wife’s head with his hand and broke her neck, sinking his teeth into her wrists.” His voice started breaking. “Afterward, he told me that we had to find a way to enter the castle and retrieve the book or all the people of Bellator would be killed.”
I tried to keep a straight face as I listened to him. Of course I knew who the man with dragon-like wings was, but I assumed he was not aware that we were the ones the blood-drinkers were after.
“What happened after?” I asked.
He gazed at me in silence.
“The citizens went mad,” he started. “With torches and spears in hand, some men flocked to the castle while others searched Bellator.” He gave a grimace of pain as he arched his back, trying to find a comfortable position on the bed. “I mounted my horse and fled. Whatever damage this book could do, I wanted no part in it.”
There were footsteps coming from the stairs. Seconds later, I saw Petra, Demetre, and Isaac approaching the room.
“The horses are agitated, Devin.” Isaac looked at the man and cringed at the sight of his wound. Demetre gnawed on the side of his upper lip. “They do not want to stay inside the stall. We searched the woods for any signs of an enemy and did not see anything.”
“I will tend to the horses soon,” I said, turning my eyes back to the man. “How did you lose your eye?”
The man made an inarticulate sound as he lifted his left arm, trying to touch his wounded face.
“I saw a boy in the woods. He stood alone in the middle of the road…”
“How old was this boy?” My eyebrows furrowed as I recoiled my head.
“He was young.” His eyes became thin lines on his face. “He seemed to be around six years of age. I tried to help him. When I approached the boy, his body changed in seconds. His head stood far from the ground, towering above my own. He grew thick and muscular; horns appeared out of his skull, and his eyes were as black as coal. Instead of a nose, there were two small cavities on his face. His mouth was long and thin, his teeth sharp and short.”
My heart hammered under my chest. I darted an alarming stare at my companions. Though I did not have the ability to read minds, I could see in their faces that we all shared the same thought.
“The creature attacked me, holding my head against the snow.” The man shuddered as he spoke. “It reached for my right eye with one of its fingers…”
Tears rolled down his eyes and onto the sheets of the bed. With his fingertips, he touched the gash on his face.
“I will let you be.” I arose to my feet. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
“Right now, solitude would be the best thing I could have,” he said, laying his hands beside his body.
I made my way out of the room. Isaac, Demetre, and Petra followed. Could it be that Adara and Xylia were caring for the beast that had attacked this man?
“Where is the boy?” Demetre asked the moment I closed the door behind me.
“In the room with the girls.” I set my gaze on the room they had chosen to sleep in. My hands tightened around the handle of my sword.
“Girls,” I said, knocking on the door.
There was no response.
“Are you there?” asked Petra in a louder voice, unsheathing his sword. Seconds felt like minutes as we waited for them to respond.
“They have to be inside,” Isaac muttered, furrowing his brow.
I twisted the knob, pushing the door with my shoulder, but found that it was locked.
“Girls!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Alarmed, I drew my sword.
“That’s it.” Isaac landed a kick on the door, smashing it in half.
“Xylia!” Isaac screamed, rushing his way inside.
The room was empty. We looked at each other, confused at the sight.
“Where are they?” Petra’s eyes surveyed the room. “Where did they go?”
There were creases on the sheets of the bed. I marched toward the window, looking out at the dark landscape, trying to spot them.
“They have to be in this room,” Demetre said, searching under the bed.
Footsteps creaked on the wooden floor of the room. My lips tightened as I turned my face in the direction of the unexpected sounds.
“Do you hear it?” Isaac asked with eyes wide open. The sudden noise ceased. Our breathing was the only audible sound in the room.
“Where is it?” I feared an attack from whatever lurked around us.
Deafening screams came from the other room.
“It’s in here!” the wounded man roared. “Help me!”
“Is everything alright?” Ballard shouted from the living room. I heard the sound of his footsteps as he ran up the stairs. We hastened our way to the other room.
My wings moved beneath my skin when I laid eyes on the man.
“He is in here.” His entire body trembled. “Listen.”
An unseen creature strutted around the room. The continuous creaking noise of the wooden floor raised the hairs on my neck.
The man lifted his body with great difficulty, struggling to stand on his feet. His chest heaved with desperate breaths. While reclining his back on the bedpost, bite marks appeared on his face. His neck was ripped open before he could scream. Parts of his nose and lips were torn away from him. A puddle of blood formed on the white sheets of the bed.
“Show yourself, coward!” Demetre raised up his sword.
Petra turned his head, searching for the unseen being that walked around the room.
The man’s body twitched as life poured out of him.
A
hovering cloud of smoke appeared in front of me. It assumed the shape of a grotesque monster. The creature was tall; its two horns were only inches away from touching the ceiling. It hissed as its dark eyes darted in our direction.
With a strong grasp, the beast held Adara and Xylia under its arms. This was indeed the creature the man had so fearfully described.
With great strength, it slammed its horns against the wall, creating a gap. Cold air flooded the room as the beast jumped its way out.
We were all at its heels.
“Do not let it escape,” said Ballard, running as fast as his human legs allowed him. The beast roared as it clumped its way through the soft snow.
Petra, Ballard, and Demetre stayed behind while Isaac and I chased the monster at full speed.
Isaac’s feet abandoned the ground as he soared into the air; his white wings spreading wide. I bent my knees, propelling my body toward the beast. As I approached its massive body, I grabbed one of its horns, my feet landing on its back.
With loud screeches, the creature released the girls, tossing them onto the snow. Isaac plunged down from the sky, his hand tight around his sword. At that moment, his gaze alone would have caused the fiercest of men to tremble in fear.
Before he could strike the creature with his sword, it clasped his left wrist, hurtling his body against one of the pine trees. Seconds later, the creature’s strong hands gripped my wounded ankle. I gritted my teeth, feeling a sharp pain shoot up my leg.
As my feet rose away from its body, I attempted to wound it with my blade. I pierced its shoulder as I was catapulted into the woods. The creature shrieked. My back collided with the bark of a bay willow tree.
My sword slipped from my hand the moment my body thudded on the ground. Disoriented, I looked up and realized that we were near the dead bodies that hung from a neighboring tree. Isaac lay on the ground, unconscious.
From behind the beast, I saw Ballard, Petra, and Demetre running in our direction. With a loud bellow, the creature stalked toward them.
“Watch out!” I shook my head from one side to the other, trying to remain focused.
The beast attempted to lash at them with its massive hands, but they dodged its every move at a surprising speed. With a determined expression, Petra swung his sword against the creature, which dodged his blade by lowering its head. Demetre rushed his way to Isaac’s unconscious body.
