Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  “Is that all you’ve got?” he called out, eyes scanning what was left of the tree line, massive trees reduced to kindling, their charred thick trunks releasing spirals of black smoke. Xavier and Liam stood by his side, each gazing about for signs of survivors. Blurs of movement streaked back and forth across the ruined portion of forest. “If you bloody imps stand still like your friends here, I promise you the same gift of eternal sleep!” He kicked a steaming head across the ground. The bloodied stumps of legs and arms lay all around them.

  “Xavier!” Liam said, not daring to take his eyes off the trees. “You follow Viola. Who knows how many are in pursuit of her as we speak?”

  “I am needed here,” he replied, whirling a circular blade in each hand.

  “Go after her,” Owen ordered, his own swords high and readied. “Liam and I can handle things here. They must not take her! Understand? Now go!” After a slight hesitation, the apprentice turned and bolted away. Owen’s eyes narrowed as he scanned back and forth, distracted by the flittering streaks of movement. “Come to me, demons,” he growled under his breath.

  A streaking blur came right at them, sending Owen into a sideways roll as it blurred past. A flash of steel swiped the air where he had just been standing. Completing the roll, the hunter was on his feet, blades out and ready. Warrior’s instinct alone had thwarted that attack, but he couldn’t continue relying on reflexive instinct against an opponent with such freakish speed. Sooner or later, cold steel would bite his heart.

  Liam backed away, mumbling something while holding his staff in the air. A second blur streaked from the forest, heading straight for the mystic. Reflexively, Owen threw his sword with all the speed and accuracy he could manage. The tumbling blade glanced off the streaking laberath, doing little damage but still redirecting its charge. Stumbling at a high rate of speed, it tumbled forward, just missing Liam, who seemed to hardly even notice the close call.

  “If you’re not going to help, at least get out of the way,” Owen called to the mystic, quickly retrieving his second sword. He stood in front of Liam protectively, twirling each blade in long, sweeping circles. “Are you all afraid to fight like men? Feel free to come taste me steel!” he roared. Multiple streaks blurred from the forest, each heading straight for him. He braced, preparing to swing blindly and hopefully take out a few before they inevitably overwhelmed him.

  “Go teh blathra!” Liam boomed, his thunderous voice carrying on the wind as he slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. There came a brilliant flash, quickly followed by a silent explosion, felt as opposed to being heard. A low, vibrating boom like thunder with no sound rattled the entire area.

  Knocked to the ground by the soundless impact, Owen scrambled back to his feet. Disoriented, he gazed around at a world he no longer recognized. Reality itself seemed to bend and bulge, like looking through the bottom of a finished glass of ale. Warped. Twisted. His eyes could hardly focus. A tiny movement at the side of his face drew his attention.

  He glanced at a dragonfly somehow suspended in midair. No, not suspended. It was indeed moving, only in slow motion. Tiny wings swept up and down, completing a single beat every few seconds. Impossible that it could stay airborne while moving so slowly, yet somehow it did.

  He looked up to see Liam moving towards one of the laberaths, it, too, moving at an impossibly slow pace. Face contorted with rage, its body leaned too far forward to possibly remain upright. With no hesitation, Liam ran his sword right through its neck. Its expression never changed. Owen suspected it would be at least a minute before it knew it was dead. Liam yanked his blade free in a spray of gore, already turning to eliminate the next.

  “Leave one alive,” Owen said, grinning with satisfaction. “We’ll want to question him.” He walked over to the mystic, then jumped back as Liam slashed another’s neck, the blood spray nearly speckling his armor. The old man obviously wasn’t disturbed by the prospect of death. Owen patted him on the back. “See, I knew sooner or later you’d be useful to me.”

  Viola ran through the forest. With her speed and agility returned, she weaved between trees as if her body were liquid, ducking under low-hanging branches with ease. Blasting through another bush, she saw a shadow of movement from the corner of her eye. But glancing in that direction, she saw nothing. There was no way to be certain if she had really seen it, or if her fear-ravaged mind was playing tricks.

  She looked up, then leapt into the air. Spinning, her body distorted into a black funnel of flapping black birds, the living twister spiraling upward onto a thick tree branch. Coming out of the twist, her body reformed, melting birds churning within a cone of liquid black.

  Perched, she remained perfectly still. Holding her breath, she listened carefully to the sounds around her. The wind whistled through the leaves, a rattling clatter that echoed through the treetops. She turned quickly, startled when a pinecone bounced from branch to branch on its way down to the forest floor below. A trickle of sweat dripped down from her temple, the icy cold bead racing towards her chin.

  Suddenly, two black funnels blazed up beside her, perching on either side. The flapping black swirls melted into humanoid bodies, red-eyed faces grinning at her. She shrieked, leaping from the branch, spinning back into her whirling black bird form, then landing on another perch a fair distance away. Cackling with glee, they happily gave chase. Black funnels swirled through the treetops, each materializing on its latest perch before spinning away again.

  Each time she stopped, a funnel blurred up next to her, laughing, taunting its prey. Escape was futile. No matter which direction she chose, she was quickly cut off. Exhausted, Viola dropped to one knee. Tiptoeing across the surrounding branches, the laberaths began closing in. Surrounded, there was nowhere left to run. “Orm’rak wants her alive,” one reminded as they drew closer. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with her on the way back.” A shrill cackling of agreement followed.

  A flash of spinning metal blazed across his chest. Stunned, the laberath glanced down at the gaping cut, blood running freely down his front. The wound began to smoke. White sparkles appeared on the sides of the wound, quickly engulfing his entire chest. He lurched his head back to scream in agony, but all that spewed from his mouth was a fountain of white glitter. Like ants devouring a carcass, within seconds his body melted, glittery white liquid dripping down to the ground below.

  The circular blade boomeranging back, Xavier caught it in full stride as he streaked towards them. He released his second, sending it whistling up towards another laberath. Now alerted to the pesky human, the laberath easily dodged the whirling blade. To their eyes, such a cumbersome attack was remarkably slow.

  “Xavier!” Viola shouted, whirling down from the treetop to reform beside him. He snatched his returning blade out of the air, then refocused his attention on the remaining four creatures. They whirled down towards him, black funnels taking shape at his front and back.

  “Kill him but don’t harm the girl,” one of the four commanded, clicking his blades together in some kind of taunting song. In a blur, the laberaths began to race around them, two moving left, the other two moving right. No doubt they were planning some sort of timed attack. Xavier could hardly focus his eyes on one, yet alone all four.

  “On my mark, drop to the ground and don’t look up,” the apprentice said, clanging his own blades together in rhythm, trying to get some sort of timing down in his head. Viola said nothing, her head whipping back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse of the lightning-fast enemies. She could even feel the wind produced by their speed. He clanged his blades once, twice... “Now!” She dropped, hands covering her head.

  He sent his weapons twirling into the spinning circle, effectively leaving him unarmed for the moment. Throwing his shoulders back, his cloak fluttered to the ground, revealing rows and rows of handled blades strapped across his chest. There were at least twelve, possibly more. Clack, clack, clack, clack... he touched each handle with one of his rings, then threw
his hands up.

  Time stood still as half-moon blades floated up into the air, each attached to a silky magic thread. The puppet master had unleashed his true talent. Ten blades whistled around with only the slightest twitch of his fingers, each directed with purpose and precision. The streaking laberaths had easily evaded his thrown weapons, but they were nothing but a distraction, buying him the second he needed.

  Whirling blades flashed out, the silky threads attached growing longer or shorter at Xavier’s will. Three laberaths were shredded instantly, their bodies tumbling down into a blob of liquid white. Somehow, the fourth managed to evade. Leaping back, he glared at the young assassin.

  Half-moon blades whistled around with impossible speed as Xavier displayed masterful control with barely a twitch of his fingers. Whirling in a precise pattern, they collectively formed a protective dome around him and Viola. Hearing the whistling, she dared to look up. Seeing the flashing steel whizzing around from the corner of her eye, it was hard to determine if she was protected or trapped.

  Xavier grinned at the remaining laberath, the cold, heartless sneer of a predator. For the first time in its life, the creature felt...afraid. This human was more than formidable. With a twitch of the apprentice’s finger, a single blade snapped off and went zipping towards the creature. The laberath sidestepped the blade.

  Unexplainably, white-hot pain ripped through his body. The laberath fell to his knees, now recognizing the decoy for what it was, far too late. Body liquefying into a shimmering ball of white glitter, he glanced up one last time. The assassin stood there, blank expression, emotionless...weaponless. The single blade was only to make the laberath move in any direction. The rest were unleashed in a perfect surrounding pattern, ensuring the victim would step into one or more no matter which way he dodged.

  Trembling, Viola slowly got back to her feet. Xavier all but ignored her, scouting out ahead to retrieve his weapons.

  “Should I go look for them?” asked Liam, tying a rope around the captured laberath, securing him to a tree.

  “No,” Owen replied, gazing off in the direction where Xavier had gone. “My apprentice is more than capable. He’ll handle anything that comes their way.”

  “Good,” said Liam. “Then let me take this opportunity to apologize in advance.”

  “Apologize for what?” the hunter asked, confused. He glanced back over his shoulder.

  “For this.” An explosion of pain shot through the back of Owen’s head. He dropped to his knees, his body unresponsive. Everything spun as dizzying nausea gripped his stomach. Unable to respond or react, he never even felt the second blow.

  Chapter Six

  Owen groaned, his eyelids twitching as he rolled his head. “I think he’s waking up,” said a soft female voice. Even in his confused, hazy state, he recognized the voice as Viola’s. He winced as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his head. Instinctually reaching to touch his forehead, his arm wouldn’t raise. Grimacing, he opened his eyes all the way and glanced down, already knowing what he’d see. With hands bound at his front, more rope securing his body to a tree, he chuckled to himself.

  “You’re in on this too, I suppose?” he questioned, glancing up at Xavier. His gaze swept slowly, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “So you’ve all turned on me.”

  “You hid the truth from me,” Xavier growled, face shadowed beneath his hood. “Until now I’ve never questioned you. I followed you blindly, doing whatever you asked of me. For that...I was a fool.”

  “You put us all at risk,” Liam added, towering over the hunter. “This demented game of yours is over. We are no longer playing by your rules. You’ll stay tied to that tree until all my questions are answered. And even that does not ensure that I will release you. I may just decide to leave you here with him.” There came a grunting sound from the other side of the tree. Owen realized for the first time that the rope securing him was also holding the captured laberath on the other side of the same tree.

  Owen laughed again, the others looking at him as if he’d gone mad. “So your feelings are hurt because I didn’t share every single detail of the plan, boy?” he asked, looking up at Xavier. “Well, that’s not exactly the same as lying, is it? The less you knew, the better.”

  His gaze found Liam. “And you! Your life was at risk the moment you begged to accompany me on this journey. Nothing’s changed. Welcome to the real world, mystic. You could have left any time you wanted.”

  “Let me go,” begged the laberath behind him, struggling against the ropes. He spoke in a quick, nasally voice. “I can speak with Orm’rak on your behalf. I’m sure he’ll double—no, triple—the price for the girl! Surely we can work something out.”

  “Would that be the same offer I’ve already refused multiple times now?” Owen asked. The laberath didn’t reply. “I warned you serpents not to contact me again. How did you find me?”

  “W-We have human spies all over the surface world,” the creature admitted after a long pause. “Orm’rak was certain you would go after the girl, despite refusing his generous offers. So we kept a watchful eye on you and your apprentice.” He began breathing hard, fear building up inside him. “Our orders were to take the girl whether or not you refused his offer again. But we still offered you the reward! Orm’rak said once you saw the jewels you would change your mind. I see now that he was wrong. There, I’ve told you everything. Now let me go! I swear you’ll never see me again.”

  “Why does this...Orm’rak...want her so badly?” Liam asked, now glaring over at the laberath.

  “I don’t know,” he blurted out, growing increasingly desperate. “I’m just a grunt. He doesn’t tell us anything! But I’ve never seen him so obsessed. He’s not going to stop searching for her.”

  “If that’s all you know, then I would say you’re no longer useful to us,” Owen growled, tightening his body. The hunter’s muscles bulged with tension, the veins on his arms rising, chest expanding.

  The laberath’s eyes bulged as the ropes tightened, mouth opening wide with not enough air to scream. The ropes creaked with tension, sinking into his body due to the shocking display of strength. The hunter roared, every muscle in his body swelling with blood. Like a knife through water, each rope snapped through the creature’s body, its spine and a thin layer of skin now the only thing between the ropes and the tree.

  Owen blew out a deep breath, the ropes tying him relaxing with the mass of an additional body no longer a factor. Easily slipping the loose ropes, he rose to his feet and brushed himself off. Liam stepped back, stunned by the show of raw power he had just witnessed. No human should have been able to do such a thing. Owen went around the tree and gazed down on the bloodied carcass. With a heavy boot, he crushed the skull, sending brain matter spraying across the ground.

  “Maybe now you dimwitted creatures will understand that no means no,” he said, then began laughing again, wiping his bloody boot on the grass. He looked at Liam, who started shifting uncomfortably. It never occurred to him that the hunter might shed his bonds with such ease. “No more secrets,” Owen said, untying his bound wrists with his teeth. “There is a small town called Trankend about half a day’s ride from here. We’ll stop there and fetch ourselves a cold ale and some warm women. A bit o’ liquor in me gut will get me talking just fine. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  Liam eyed the dead laberath, its eyes glazed over, its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. “Why do I get the impression you could have escaped my capture anytime you pleased?” Liam asked.

  “And what good would that have done?” Owen replied. “I can’t make you trust me through brute force. I wanted you to hear at least part of the story from the lips of that thing.” He glanced towards Xavier. “I’ll help you pack up the rest of camp. We leave in five minutes.” Feeling ashamed at how he had treated his master, the apprentice quickly began rolling the bedrolls.

  “I don’t blame you for not trusting me,” Owen grunted to Liam, eyes watching Xavier work. “Nor
do I blame my apprentice. But I’m not your enemy, mystic. Sooner or later you’ll have to make a choice as to where your loyalties lie, and the gods know I could sure use your help.”

  Back on the road, Owen and his apprentice led the way while Liam manned the wagon at the rear of the line. Several uneventful hours passed by, Viola keeping to herself the whole time.

  “Before the day’s end, you and I shall be enjoying a hot meal and some cold drinks,” said Liam, his body swaying back and forth with the wagon’s movements as he snapped the reins. The small talk was just an attempt to break the unbearable silence. She was being even more quiet than usual. “I’m sure there will be music playing. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Viola gazed out the rear of the wagon, acting as if she didn’t even hear him. “Perhaps Xavier will unveil that puppet toy of his. You would like to see him again, no? Um, what was its name again?” He snapped his fingers a few times. Still, she ignored him, her body moving only when the wagon swayed. “Viola? Are you all right, dear?”

  “Why do you keep acting as if nothing happened?” she asked after a long hesitation, still gazing out the back. “You pretend there is nothing wrong with me.”

  “Nothing I say is pretend,” he replied, wary of her sudden inquiries. “Indeed you are unique, but that doesn’t mean I believe there is anything wrong with you.”

  “Liar!” she hissed, turning to face him, voice seeming to echo from all directions at once. She began crawling towards him, the slow stalking of a predator. “That wolf was afraid of me, you know. And even though I could feel its terror, I still wouldn’t let it get away.” Now she was near Liam’s back, black lips moving up near his ear. “Do you know why?” she whispered. He could feel her icy breath pulsing, each blast an arctic chill. “Because the scent of its blood nearly drove me mad. I wanted it more than anything. No... I needed it. I didn’t want it to die, but none of that mattered to me. My burning thirst would not be denied. Even as it whimpered in my arms, I drank until I had my fill. So, my dear Liam, if you are not afraid of me as you say you are not, then you are a fool!”