El-Vador's Travels

by J. R. Karlsson

  After the third joining with the patches of light, new dots were appearing in the blackness, was he meant to harvest them as well?

  'Ignore them,' the voice said, reading his thoughts. 'You cannot tarry here overly long.'

  The Elf complied, moving even faster and removing all the brightened patches from this realm of shadow.

  'Good. Good,' the voice repeated. 'Now cease your efforts at concentration and allow yourself to slowly slide back into corporeality.'

  It was a strange sensation, as if he were pouring his old self into a wooden cup, a fleshy vessel that once held his spirit.

  Opening his eyes, he reignited his sight and stared about him. He felt no different than before.

  A familiar chuckle bounced about his head. 'No, you will not begin to see the effects of your endeavours immediately. First you must take some time to recover, there will be no rush. The guards are too dead to check up on you.'

  A wry smile crept across El-Vador's face, he had time to kill and sentries he already had, the endless hours didn't seem as dark knowing that power would soon blossom within him.

  'Go,' the voice said after a time. 'You should have enough to escape the burrow, then you can hide in the plains for a time.'

  The Elf frowned. 'If I have enough power, why should I need to hide anywhere?'

  'You have a modicum of power, enough to venture outside this burrow. You will do battle in the open plains against the Orcs, rather than in the burrows they know so well. By then your power will have manifested fully.'

  The voice clearly knew what it was talking about, El-Vador chose not to question it any further and started to head for the hole leading back into the cavern below.

  'No, that way is too heavily guarded at this hour. They will be expecting you to attempt an escape through there, since you have already breached their burrow that way. You must go through other paths, I shall guide you.'

  El-Vador did not question how the voice knew the layout of this particular burrow, he slipped out of the prison door as lithe as a panther on his silent feet and greeted the burrow with blade drawn.

  The first guard he came across had his back turned to him, and El-Vador glided as effortlessly toward him as his weapon did when sheathed in the Orc's back.

  He made his way further down what would have been a pitch-black corridor but for his enhanced sight, his feet guided by a strong premonition which aided in choosing which path to tread. It was after traversing down another corridor that he came to a stop at a corner, his first real threat lay ahead.

  Two Orcs, both heavily-armed brutes, stood in muttered conversation with each other. There was no way that the Elf could bury his blade in both of them without the other retaliating. Nor was El-Vador so confident in his skills that he could simply dispatch both of them alone with any degree of certainty.

  The voice came to his aid, sensing the indecision that the Elf's mind was fraught with. 'Kill the first with your bow, lay waste to the second with the power you unleashed upon the monster of the pit.'

  El-Vador nodded, taking a quiet breath and unstrapping the longbow from his back, carefully stringing it so that the limbs did not creak overly loud in the corridor and attract unwanted attention.

  He peered around the corner and waited for a moment where both Orc's backs were turned, then ghosted forth with the string drawn to his lobe.

  A thunk sound was all the Orcs heard, one of them had been foolish enough to remove his helm and El-Vador's shot did not err from this range. The other turned rapidly, a fearsome snarl replacing the look of shock on his face as he licked at the splattered gore of his companion dotting his features.

  The oncoming assault was not tactful, the Orc raised a large axe high above his head and clearly aimed to cleave the intruder in twain before he could mount a sufficient riposte.

  The attacker had not been anticipating the oily black deluge that spewed from the hands of his foe. The impact was a wet slap that pinned him to the wall, the tar-like substance entering the gaping mouth and pouring past rows of chipped teeth that looked more like tusks to El-Vador's eyes.

  It seemed to catch fire, without the typical hiss and crackle of flames upon flesh and with a potency that was sickening to behold.

  His victim writhed silently, shrieking wordless nothings as he remained pinned to the wall. Then as he stilled, the substance ate away what was left and vanished.

  And El-Vador felt revitalised.

  A shiver ran up his spine at what he had witnessed, yet it had been against a foe that was willing to kill him regardless of what he did. He rebuked himself harshly for questioning his actions, it was an Orc, it merited death for that reason alone.

  At least, he thought the rebuke had come from him, hadn't it?

  Shaking his head, he proceeded down the corridor and continued with his predetermined path out of the confines of the burrow.

  Those few sentries he met, he killed in the same manner as the last. His revulsion had died down now that he saw the benefits that such extermination had on his power. By the time he reached the gate he was positively aglow with it and brimming with an urge to kill even more of the Orcs.

  It was a large and typically unadorned stone structure that had been set into the front of the cavern on gigantic hinges. To either side of the gate were ramps leading up to what looked to be sentry towers. Presumably the trigger mechanism to the burrow gates lay within one of these structures, he was under no illusion that they'd both be guarded.

  'Kneel,' the voice said, as insistent in its commands as always. El-Vador complied once more.

  'Place your palms face down upon the stone.'

  The stone felt cold and unyielding to his touch, what was he supposed to do with it, tear rock out with his bare hands and hurl it at the towers?

  Then he sensed it, the darkness seeping out of him and pooling about his fingers as if painting a thick outline of his form. It didn't stop there though as it trickled its way toward the ramp on invisible rivulets in the ground, more of the black substance soon joined it and El-Vador felt the lively power being slowly drained from him. Twin rivers now gushed forth over the ramps and into the towers, forming unstoppable black waves that somehow crashed higher as they entered the guard house.

  He heard no screams and saw no effect of this torrent until one of them came staggering out, ablaze with that same fire as his previous victims, what was left of the Orc hurled itself from upon high and was devoured mid-way through his fall.

  A grinding sound issued from the doors as the darkness retreated back into his outstretched palms, still planted firmly face down upon the surface of the cavern. The gate swung open ponderously and as soon as the darkness had dissipated, El-Vador stepped through the opening and out of the burrow.

  XLIII

  The Orcs were a headstrong and foolish race, I had learnt that much growing up amongst them under the occupation. Little did they realise that such exposure would slowly hone a warrior capable of playing their every weakness against them.

  Harg stared into space with a tired emptiness. His gut sense had warned him about it, his dreams had been plagued with ill omens and still he had dismissed them as fancy. He was a rational being and had never seen the black arts in his time, thinking them exaggerated tales to keep the troops in line. The common view of the soldier, even if it had been called into question by the explosion in the mountains.

  Yes, it was pertinent that he think of that moment in time now, he should have seen it earlier and would now have the live with the consequences of his self-neglect and deception. As would many others.

  He had seen many atrocities committed in war, often by those on his own side. Never had he seen such a callous disregard for life, even in the most far gone warriors there remained a spark of decency that may arise on occasion. In this single barbaric act and subsequent escape, the Elf had proven himself beyond all redemption.

  He knew it was the Elf that had killed every young child in the night. He had no way of proving it
but deep down he knew that this beast had somehow accomplished the deed.

  Harg did not believe in evil, in spite of the brutes he had served in the past that raped and pillaged their way through life. That lack of belief was being sorely tested now.

  The familiar knock came again, this time he noticed it. 'Enter.' he grunted at the door, knowing in truth the report he was about to receive even before it was given to him.

  Salvarius entered the room clad in full armour, as if such unnecessary protection would shield his soul from the burden of reality. Harg beckoned him closer and asked wearily for the man's report.

  'You were correct in your assumption, General.' the man reported, the disbelief clearly written on his face. 'The Elf has vanished and all the guards that were guarding his path to the gates have vanished save one, who was clearly killed an arrow at close distance.'

  'Their families report no trace of them at all since their sentry duty?' Harg queried.

  'No sir, it is as if they had simply vanished.'

  This was no coincidence, it couldn't be. Every child in the burrow found lifeless within their cots and the escape of the Elf happening in the same fateful morning?

  'Call a gathering amongst the people, I will address the issue personally.' the General said, straightening up with purpose and anger blazing in his eyes.

  Salvarius took a step back and nodded his assent before turning heel and escaping any further comment from Harg.

  The gathering did not take long as the grief-stricken Orcs filed into the main chamber of the burrow. It was a vast cavernous affair, but Harg's voice rang true as he beckoned to the now-assembled horde to listen to his words.

  'We are in dark times, my brother and sisters. Our most sacrosanct birthright has been stolen from us by a demon, our very lifeblood has been purged by a monster we sought to contain. I may have no children to call my own, but I come from a proud Orcish family just as you do. I will not rest until this demon is caught and slain, none of us shall rest until we can each taste the torn flesh of vengeance upon our foe.'

  His words echoed in the heart of his people, they gave a great cry that reminded him of the bloodthirsty conquests of his youth. They were ready to do as he bid, whatever that may be in order to claim retribution.

  Holding a hand up to gain their attention, he continued to bellow over the top of them in his best imitation of Generals past. 'There will be no stopping our tide of wrath, no relenting to our efforts until we have flushed out the traitor from the plains. For there he is and shall remain, he has no mount and thought he could simply stroll out our front gate. He was wrong, and his insolence will be paid with a blood price for all that he has done.' His voice rose to a roar then, almost cracking under the strain. 'You ask why we failed in the north? There stands the reason why, a demon in Elven form that must be purged should any of us wish peace again. He butchered my comrades, he has stolen your children's lives and he has defiled our burrow. Enough! I swear on the blood of my ancestors that he will be captured and brought to justice here for all to see!'

  A huge roar of concurrence swept through the crowd as they reached frenzy-level, the unified purpose permeating through the throng of blood-thirsty berserks.

  'Arm yourselves fit for the great hunt, my comrades, all who are able and willing to give their lives to the cause. This day we set out on the heels of the demon that has accursed our people and this day we shall slay it!'

  With another roar, the crowds dispersed, leaving Salvarius and Harg in attendance.

  'With the sheer number of volunteers, we will have no issue canvassing the entire plains. Do you wish to send mounted scouts ahead to see if they can pinpoint the Elf's location first?'

  Harg nodded. 'I will lead one of the squadrons myself, we will empty our stables and send our men riding far and wide, should any not return we know then where the Elf has gone.'

  So it was that the great gates were flung open and Harg went storming out with several of his finest champions in formation, Salvarius soon followed with another group, their horses champing at the bit in their eagerness to stretch their legs upon the great plains surrounding the burrow.

  So blinded were they by blood lust that they did not notice the figure that slipped into the sewers that were now unguarded, nor did they come across it as it strayed deeper into the burrow.

  The Elf instinctively knew what it was he had to do as he crept up the chain from the now-permanently lowered cage. It was as if his own thoughts were supplemented by the coercions of the voice and it troubled him that he could barely discern the subtle difference.

  No matter, there was a task at hand greater in scope that the concerns of his own petty mind. It was clear what he must do and how he should set about it. He could feel the power growing with each passing moment, the lives he had taken bolstering its awakening at a greater pace.

  Placing his palms down upon the floor of an abandoned corridor, he let the waves of oily darkness exude from him and out into the burrow. The lights were dimmer as he shut off his sight and began to depart his form, but the augmented power pinpointed them and sent the darkness forth at a staggering speed.

  Just as he felt the force of his efforts beginning to wane, another light would wink out and re-invigorate his powers, fuelling him to keep pushing the darkness forward to engulf everything in its path.

  Soon there was nothing left.

  El-Vador sat still in the darkness, knowing vaguely what it was he had just done. This was no longer a burrow that he sat in, it was a tomb.

  Forcing himself to his feet unsteadily, he staggered deeper into the winding corridors to implement the final phase of his plan. He could feel the energy sapping from the very core of his bones, it had been a huge ask for him to project so much of it forth into the burrow.

  He needed to do this though, to make a final and complete statement to the Orcs that had gone racing out in pursuit of him.

  Dragging himself onward, he made his preparations.

  XLIV

  Few things hold terror for me any longer, but the concept of being trapped in a place beyond my control is one that I cannot suppress a shudder to.

  Harg squinted out at the horizon, all that greeted him was the endless plain of barren waste. He had agreed that the scouts should reconvene at the burrow by sunset, unless one of the companies was to detect a trace of the Elf, in which case their pursuit was indication enough as to the direction they should hunt.

  Behind them were many capable warriors, decked out in fighting gear and surveying every section of the plain for potential intruders. A more thorough sweep compared to their initial scouting within the confines of their lands, but as it spread out it would begin to lose its effectiveness.

  A light breeze wafted across his face as he continued to scan the barrens for signs of life, he knew in his heart that while this may be unfamiliar territory for an Elf of the mountains, the foe he dealt with was still a master of disguising himself. It was unlikely that he'd make the mistake of appearing in plain sight if he could help it.

  The cloud cover was poor and his men suffered for it, their initial rage subdued somewhat by the heat of the blazing sun overhead.

  'No sign of the Elf thus far, General.' Salvarius informed him uselessly, he shared not the passion and rage that the others Orcs had felt. Harg knew that the man held no love for his adopted people but he had expected a response from his Captain other than perfunctory planning. This was no hunting expedition, the Elf had desecrated the lifeblood of an entire future generation. That Salvarius seemed almost nonplussed by this caused the rage to come bubbling up within Harg's calm exterior once more.

  'Keep searching, damn you! The Elf is more suited to the frozen north than these plains, he cannot have gone far.'

  'Yes sir.' Salvarius replied, turning as if to carry out the commands.

  'I am not finished speaking to you, Captain.' Harg snapped at him, causing the man to face him once more, clearly not wanting to witness the wrath of his superior.
>
  Harg looked around, most of his forces were canvassing the area and trying their best not to listen in to the conversation. Good, he had a few things he needed to say and he did not want them to travel overly far.

  Trotting his mount up alongside his Captain, Harg stared down at the man. 'I have seen the look in your eyes.' he hissed down at him. 'You do not feel as my kind feel, you care not for the deaths of our young and the pain it has wrought.'

  To his credit, Salvarius did not deny the accusation, they both knew it was true the second it had left Harg's lips. Instead the man remained silent, knowing that the General had more to say.

  'Why are you still here, Salvarius? Why do you not go back to your own kind and carve out a life for yourself instead of remaining an alien among a people you neither care for nor understand?'

  Salvarius straightened up even further, clearly smouldering at the implication now that it was out in the open but hiding his anger under a thick cover of servitude. 'I swore an oath to you sir, the day that you rescued me. I shall not recant upon that oath and I shall remain by your side in all matters until it is fulfilled.'

  It wasn't the first time Harg had heard this and he snorted in disdain. 'Your words of duty fool me not, for I have seen that your heart yearns for something greater. I give you a choice, Salvarius. Leave now and I shall consider your oath fulfilled, or continue to serve me and bury the conflict within you out of my sight.'

  Salvarius rapped a hard salute that clanged off his breast plate, and wordlessly continued to search the plains with nothing more than a quiet noise of assent.

  Harg shrugged, the man had made his choice, there were far greater matters to attend to than the feelings of his subordinate. Harg's own gut feeling was that their journey would prove futile, they were travelling in entirely the wrong direction.

  The results of the continued search appeared to agree with him. Nothing. They had found absolutely nothing out here, not a trace of the Elf's departure that would even hint that he had been covering his tracks.