Faceless: The Takeover (The Shapeshifters Book 1)

by Xaiver Morden

  The others looked at me curiously, expecting me to react.

  “I must agree with what has been said, brothers. The information I obtained reaffirm the words of Motari. Be prepared, this might as well be the toughest battles of our lives!”

  “Damn it, I’m glad I had so much fun with the womenfolk last night. At least I will go to heaven happily, if our god were to call up me,” Funny grinned.

  “Lucky moron, all I got was some wine cups and a bit of dicing. I might have had to light a huge fire to enjoy the dance of those mesmerising flames one last time.” Freckledface was daydreaming.

  “I wanted to ask you earlier, brother. Why didn’t you apply to the Order of the Eternal Fire, Endnek, when you were young?” Father Tero asked.

  “I would have applied had I not known that I would be rejected for sure. Admirers of fire, as they said, cannot be priests, nor fire wizards. They can spot such, how to say, addicts, during the application procedure.”

  “Yes, this is now considered an addiction, unfortunately,” the Father was shook his head.

  “I don’t care and I don’t deny anything! I adore the flames, they simply mesmerise me, that’s all.”

  “I understand you, brother. I am the same with wobbling breasts!” Funny laughed.

  “You are sick, the both of you. Morons, look at me, I have no addictions! Apart from occasionally drinking some cups,” Stout interrupted.

  “The perfect knight. The model of courage who almost drowned in the river Rovenore the last time,” Funny bowed.

  “That was an unfortunate accident, I jumped in after the bloke and one of the streams almost drifted me away. I couldn’t swim in full plate armor.”

  “How lucky that we were there to help you out, Sir Brave Knight” Freckledface grinned.

  “Indeed but I have thanked you for it, I believe.”

  “There are no perfect people, brothers. If you were one, you would rise to a divine level,” Fist answered solemnly.

  “You have quite an interesting team, Noan, don’t you think?” Motari asked.

  “They are good chaps, each of them. Although, sometimes I wonder how they ended up being Inquisitors.”

  We left the city gate and headed towards the north. Dark clouds appeared above our heads – a sinister omen. The wind stroked our cheeks with a light breeze. Motari guided us to the forest, leaving the main road behind. After about twenty minutes of riding, we stopped in front of an old sycamore tree with an enormous crown. The leaves on its rugged branches were sluggishly hovering in the wind. They were mysteriously rustling, as if they talked to us in their enigmatic language.

  “Iriana is here!” the old mage pointed ahead.

  “Where?” I raised my eyebrow.

  “Below the tree, among the roots, in the deep.”

  “What is she doing among the roots?” Funny asked.

  “This must be a really old tree because I am sensing a magical node in the depth. I believe this is where she comes to recharge her energies,” Motari explained.

  “I have never heard of witches behaving this way,” Father Tero said.

  “This is exactly why we have to be extremely cautious, Father! We have to be prepared for anything,” I answered.

  “I made everyone consume the potion, as you asked.”

  “Great, we will need it.”

  We dismounted our horses and tied them.

  “The bastard dug herself deep enough, how will we get her out of there?” Stout stuttered, a line of sweat dripping off his brow.

  “Leave that to me,” Motari stepped forward, holding tightly onto his staff ornamented with runes.

  He stopped before the trunk of the tree and carved odd signs into it. Uttering some words incomprehensible to us, he circled his long staff and the earth opened up in front of the sycamore, the roots yielding to the charm.

  “This won’t allow anyone to leave using magic. She will not be able to elope this time, Noan.”

  “It’s either her or us! Inquisitor brothers, if you see Iriana, have no mercy – she won’t show any. We have to give our best if we want her dead,” I said.

  “We fight as long as we breathe!” the Inquisitors shouted.

  “We fight as long as we breathe!” I replied.

  “Noan, the ramador is already aware of our arrival!” the mage warned me.

  “Our initial advantage is gone then, but never mind. Dermeron is with us and so are you!” I patted the shoulder of my old friend.

  I was the first to step in the gap, cautiously proceeding with a torch in one hand, and the dimly lighting Loomer in the other. The passage, that had the width of one person, was leading downwards under the roots of the tree. Worms and insects were crawling in the soil beside us, looking for nourishment. After a few steps, the passage expanded and we found ourselves in an underground hole right under the tree. It was high enough to let us straighten up. Thick roots were running along everywhere. We pushed our shoulders together to protect each other’s side and to thoroughly explore the place. I threw my torch into a corner to shed more light into the hall. At that moment, the roots trembled opposite us and they opened up, forming a path to let someone through. Behind the roots, the shape of Iriana emerged, stark naked. Mud covered her body and hair. She spoke to us in a high-pitch kestrel-like voice.

  “I see you have found me, Inquisitor Master, and that you have brought your friends.”

  “We will end your life here, heretic wench!” I shouted.

  “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, the one ending lives today will surely be me!” a dreadfully worrying feeling echoed in her voice.

  She shouted two words and pointed at us with the index finger of her left hand before we could make a move. I could feel that a mysterious dark force was pressing against the shield around my mind, it tapped around it with its slimy tentacles, but couldn’t find a grip on the walls erected by Motari. Unfortunately, my comrades weren’t as lucky.

  “What are you staring at, Fist?” Stout yelled.

  “Are you looking for trouble, mate? I will show you what I’m capable of!”

  He swung his tough ashen staff towards him. His hit was averted with his knight’s sword and he started a counterattack. Father Tero, Funny, and Freckledface also started fighting against each other. Iriana managed to force her will on them, provoking hostility between the team. All turned against the other as if they had lost their minds. It was only Motari and I who had control over our will. Motari started to cast spells. He turned his staff towards the naked body of the ramador and a fire arrow thrust out of it. With a swift, airy flick of the hand, the High Priestess of the Shadow Sisters warded off the magic arrow.

  “Dermeron, god of fight and courage, look down to me in this fight!” I shouted.

  I set myself to it and slashed Loomer’s glowing blade towards the neck of the ice blonde woman. She was surrounded by some invisible aura that the sword could not penetrate. Even my magic steel blade proved to be too weak, my attack was blocked, the blade slipped over her shoulder. She filled her lungs with air, her breasts tightened, she opened her mouth and blew a searing beam of fire directly at me like an angry dragon. I was covered in flames and would have probably died, hadn’t it been for the magic potion that I had drunk before. I survived with no other damages than the fright I went through.

  “So you are using protection against fire attacks, huh? Not bad, Inquisitor!”

  “I still have some surprises for you Iriana !”

  I started murmuring magic words using all of my power, holding tightly onto the hilt of my knight’s sword, begging Dermeron to give me a weapon to defeat my enemy. All of a sudden, with a blinding flash, my sword began pulsating strong light. I knew that my God was with me and had sent me help. I instantly turned towards Iriana who had just finished casting a spell. She was reaching towards me with one arm, to Motari with the other, and cast violet blue lightning towards us. The godly light of my weapon warded off the energy of the attack but was pushing me backwards
with such energy that I had to bend on one knee. Motari tamed the devastating lightning by gripping his elaborately carved long staff with his two hands, absorbing the strikes like a sponge.

  “Noan, keep her busy for a while!” my old friend shouted at me, drops of sweat gathering on his forehead from the powerful concentration.

  I nodded in agreement. I gripped on my sword glowing of divine light and attacked the witch, thrusting from above my head. She had no time to mutter the words that would have summoned the dark forces from her fingers. My weapon armed with Dermeron’s power penetrated her invisible shield and dashed into her shoulder, breaking her collarbone. She emitted a high pitched scream, her turquoise eyes threw violent sparks at me as she was staggering back to the wall.

  “Worms will feast on your flesh, you son of a bitch!” she yelled, her fingers cramping from agony.

  She swiftly raised her hand again but couldn’t cast any spells. She could only utter incomprehensible sounds. She stared at me with her beautiful, furious eyes. I looked aside briefly and saw how Motari was gasping as he was gripping on his staff.

  “Now she is all yours, Noan. I have baffled her speech for a while! Don’t have mercy on her!”

  “I won’t, my friend!”

  I clenched my teeth so much that my jaw almost twitched. I stepped towards the staggering, injured woman who was cornered like a wounded animal. Her turquoise green eyes flickered at me nervously. She desperately grabbed the cameo forming a grinning cat that hang in her neck and her body suddenly started transforming. Her limbs enlarged and turned into paws, thick white fur grew on them with patches. Her face lengthened, her skull expanded, forming a bony collar in the back, her teeth enlarged and became sharp fangs. Her shoulder blades grew apart, making space for a muscular back. She grew a long tail ending in a bony mace. Within the blink of an eye, a fully developed wraith leopard was standing in front of me. She grinned at me. Her muzzle opened, exposing rows of sharp teeth, slobbering, her fur bristling up. I balked and cautiously transposed my weight to my back foot.

  Within a split second, she kicked herself from the ground and sprang at me with her muscular back legs. Her reflexes proved to be supernatural, I had no time to react. She dug her piercing claws into me, cutting through the plates of my shoulder armor – luckily, not too deep. She attempted to bite me in the neck but I averted it by lifting my left arm in front of my face. Her teeth sank in my lower arm through my gauntlet which she started tearing apart vehemently. My right hand was still holding tightly onto the sword glaring with divine light. Her venomous slobber penetrated my blood circulation, but was cast off by the potion I had consumed earlier. Gathering all my power, I dashed into her side. She gave an ear-splitting shrill and, to my relief, she jumped off me. I rolled onto my side and quickly got on my feet. She was snarling and snorting, her fur bristled up, painted red by the deep wound on her side. She menacingly wagged her lengthy tail and whipped it towards me. Its bony, clubbed end hit me in the tasset of my plate armour, bashing it in. It nearly swept me off my feet but I managed to regain my balance in time. I experienced a dull, pulsing pain. I acted instinctively and cut the end of her tail with a swift move. Her grievous scream pervaded my entire body, she sprang behind and scraped the ground out of agony.

  Motari was focusing heavily, he was drawing signs into the air as I glanced at him, pointing his staff at my people still fighting against each other. I had faith that he could still save them from the hex. I couldn’t do anything for them, I found myself amidst the Dance of Death with the most perilous beast of the north. We were staring at each other, face to face, expecting one of us to start the attack. The couple of moments that had passed seemed like hours. She made the first move. She kicked herself from the ground again with her strong back legs, her muzzle wide open. I held my weapon in front of me, ready to impale her. To my surprise, she snapped at the divine blade and snatched it from my hand. Her weight dragged me down again and I fell under her. I felt her fangs penetrating the steel plates of the armor. She fiercely began gnawing me from my shoulder, leaving me in excruciating pain – I was praying to God in this tight situation. I knew that I wouldn’t last long without his help. I invested all my power in hitting the leopard’s head with my gauntlet. My effort was futile, she wouldn’t let go of me, my energy was beginning to flag. I was at the verge of giving up the hope that I could get out of this alive. The loss of blood left me at the brink of losing consciousness. Soon, a battle-cry reached my ears from behind, my Inquisitor brothers arrived to help me in the last minute. They speared the beast in various places, getting her to quit her hold on me and to back off, snorting. Father Tero grabbed me and pulled me away from the fight.

  “I am here, Master. Don’t worry, we won’t let you die!”

  At the verge of fainting, trying my best to balance, two words left my lips,

  “Thank you.”

  He dragged me to the wall and sat me against it to support my back. This allowed me to have a good look at the fight. The wraith leopard was heavily bleeding from many wounds. Freckledface, Fist, Funny, and Stout were standing around her, all severely injured, not from the beast, but from the fight against each other. Motari succeeded in breaking the charm that had controlled them. He rushed to me and put his hands on my shoulder.

  “You were fighting like a hero, my friend, but now you should take a rest. Father, can you help him?”

  “Yes, mage, I can,” he crossed his fingers and started casting charms, asking for Dermeron’s help.

  The battle was far from being over, however. The beast had sunk her fangs in the thighs of Stout, and threw him away like a rag. Fist swayed in front of her and smoothly jumped on her back as easily as he would mount a horse. He held his staff in front of the beast’s mouth who furiously snapped at it.

  “Stab her now!” he shouted with all his energy.

  Taking the opportunity, Funny and Freckledface struck down on her, causing a deep wound in the big cat. She fiercely snatched towards him with her enormous paw, tearing open the neck of the poor devil, wounding the knight lethally.

  “Snuff it, you fucking animal!” Funny yelled.

  Then with a strike of the paw, she knocked my comrade on the ground who was desperately trying to defend himself against the beast. I pushed the father away and got back on my feet, although I was feeling intensely dizzy and could hardly stand straight, I had to go back to the fight, my team was about to lose. I grabbed Loomer with both hands and joined the fight. Fist gathered all his energy to pull back the head of the beast gnawing his staff. Seizing the opportunity, I slashed her throat with a clean cut, which left her snorting out blood, convulsing one last time before she dropped dead. The body of the beast began a slow transformation and she regained her human shape. Instead of the young woman who we had seen before, the body of an aged woman of withered skin was lying before us. The glare of her turquoise eyes perished as life left her body.

  Father Tero didn’t stop praying for me. I would have probably died had it not been for him interfering and bringing me back with the help of Dermeron. My wounds stop bleeding as the divine forces spread through my body. The dizziness somewhat decreased.

  “This was a nice cut Master,” stood up from the floor Funny

  “In the name of Dermeron, are you feeling better, Master?” Father Tero asked.

  “I will survive, the death won’t take me just yet. What happened to Freckledface?” I asked, still feeling little dizzy.

  “He passed away, he had no chance, master,” Fist said and desolately closed his eyes.

  “We were close to kicking the bucket! I am fucking proud of you, you fought bravely and saved my life. Another of our brothers had sacrificed his life to conquer the evil. Bring Freckledface so that we may bid him a proper farewell. We will light the largest bonfire in the north and burn him on it. It is what he had always wanted. Then we have to cut the witch into four pieces and hang her parts on the four corners of the city to deter her followers and let them know that t
hey will all end the same way!”

  “Come, Noan. Everything at its own time. But now, let us leave this damned earth behind.” Motari grabbed my arm and we started walking back.

  Iriana Melgroth, the High Priestess of the Sister Shadow Coven had irrevocably been conquered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Silver Mine

  I peeked out of the window of the carriage, familiar mountains emerged in the distance. I estimated to arrive to Rockclaw late at night. It felt strange, but somehow I was missing the old fortress. When we set off to visit the Bishop, I wouldn’t have thought to have such an eventful journey but at least I acquired the information about who was behind the murder attempt and what his objectives were – Baron Yuraj from the neighboring province, allied with the Goldenaxes, a guild of dwarf merchants. They set their eyes on the silver mine located at the border of the village of Kirklander, assuming that highly valuable runia ores were buried beneath its depths. Ever since the attack of the assassins in the Goldenbeam, the cold and distant behavior of the baroness clearly ceased, she desired my proximity more than ever before. I had only revealed to her that in all probability, Baron Yuraj had his hands in the attempt. She gently snuggled closer to me as we were jolting in the carriage.

  “When will we get home?” She sounded fatigued.

  “It will take a few more hours, Kirona.” I stroked her face.

  “I finally want to sleep in my own bed and not in some filthy, shabby inn.”

  “I believe that your wish will come true sooner than you think. Those are already our mountains.” I pointed towards the peaks through the window.

  “Amazing view, I have always been fond of mountains. They exude power which always consoles me. And what will you do now that you know that the double-hearted Yuraj was behind the whole attack?”

  “I will somehow have to prove it, otherwise it is mere hearsay.”

  “It’s a shame no one is left alive from the assassins who would support your statement. Now, this is only the word of one nobleman against the other’s.”