The Sword Cuts Deep
A Dark Tale of Fantasy
Wayne C. Hannis
Copyright 2014 Wayne C. Hannis
Cover art by Ryan Hannis
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy. Thank you for supporting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
To my cat Smokers
For seventeen years you came home.
1997-2014
Disclosure: scenes of violence.
This written work has not been edited by a professional Editor.
****
The Sword Cuts Deep
A Dark Tale of Fantasy
An anthology of magic and mayhem.
Set in a world of Dark Sorcery, where sacrificed life brings forth the vilest of magic.
And Creatures of Chaos, bent on destruction, subvert the morals of good.
In the end, when evil things happen to good people, there never is a happy ending.
Prologue
The subterranean cave was hot and humid from the natural effulgent heat of the stones so deep underground. Night vision, inherent in all the underground races, enabled him to see the stellate shades of reds, blues and greens that glimmered in symmetrical patterns. The imperceptible incandescence took on the craggy shapes of the rough rock. The darkness was thick, like a tangible object, as if the mountains that were above him compressed the inky blackness. Revelling in the total absence of visible light, he perceived it like a second skin and embraced it.
The cavern wasn't large but a prominent fracture extended upward in the ancient stone that stood out in black contrast to the chromatic rock. The floor was a flat slab of compressed marble. And anthracite ran in dark parallel, equidistant seams within the geological formation of the stone. The coal was the main reason Nakal Mish'Pachah chose this place- it was the catalyst of magic to opening a portal.
Nakal placed six rectangular plates of steel vertically on the floor of the cave, each one the size of his out stretched hand and were smelted in the furnaces of Chashak Sha'ar- The Dark City, the great Drow city that leads to darkness. Then, he set down a guard of a sword. Runes were delicately etched across its surface in spirals of calligraphy, artistically scripted by him as he had set the magic into it. Next, taking a hilt crafted from the smooth bone of a human thigh, which he obtained from a previous trophy, positioned it in sequence. Last, he placed the pommel- a hard, smooth, granite river stone big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The energy stored within the crystals would let the magic flow when the time came. It was distinctly different to everything else in his vision, it seemed like a black hole with small points of white light.
Taking a container that was filled with a mixture of gold shavings and the blood of a child, Nakal began to sprinkle the substance onto the coal. The blood steamed as it soaked into the carbon but left the gold embedded within the mineral. The gold particles began to emit minute beams of faint yellow light that cut into the darkness. Taking a step back, he positioned himself just behind the pommel of the unforged sword and pulled his long black hair behind his pointed ears. Nakal began to concentrate.
The creature he was about to release could not harm him physically. The Shachath were incorporeal, made of mist and smoke. Existing in a dimension of molten stone, they only had the ability to inhabit inorganic materials. Loathsome creatures of hate, desiring nothing more than to escape their fiery realm. Once in this material plane their blood lust was insatiable. The Shachath were capable of controlling the mind's of others. Twisting their thoughts to do atrocious things. Others had attempted to summon these creatures with dire consequences. It would try to entangle his thoughts and bend him to its will. But Nakal had nothing to fear from the demon. Since childhood the Drow disciplined their psyche, taught to endure pain and intrusion. And he had excelled at the use of his consciousness. He was here to create an alliance with a Shachath by offering it immortality. If the process of transmuting the sword was done correctly, demon and metal would become one. Nakal already knew the blacksmith that would forge the sword. Anticipating the hopelessness and suffering he and the demon would cause together made him smile.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed his consciousness to be released from his body. Still using his body as a natural tether for keeping him grounded in this world, Nakal extended his mind. He began to feel the silky texture of the blood and perceived a slight vibration coming from the gritty coal. Moving his awareness to the light emitted from the gold, he became caught within a vortex. Stabilizing himself, he actuated onto a particle of gravity that freely traveled between dimensions and allowed it to safely traverse the current. At the moment he slowed from the fast movement of the vortex, he knew he was on the other side. His body would have instantly evaporated from the heat. Forcing his mind to hold on to the energy that separated worlds he quickly willed his consciousness to return to his body. With the particle of gravity he began to fold the material in on itself. Orange light began to rush in and push him back the way he came. Once in his own dimension, he brought his mind back to himself but still held on to the energy, waiting. Brilliant light, the colour of fire, flooded into the chamber as the tunnel grew.
Within moments, tendrils of black smoke began to emerge from the portal. At first, little filaments extended out feeling the air, searching. Then it thickened into black convoluted spirals, writhing as it became a cloud that began to coalesce into a shape. It had the appearance of altering its substance and became corporeal. Cloven hooves formed first that looked like they belonged to a large ungulate. Then the smoke developed into grotesque human thighs- the knees were bent and twisted backwards. Volatile particles sparked as they continued to swirl faster and the Shachath quickly took form, molded as if it were clay. The torso was arched, making it hunch over. Grey skin was stretched tight over sinewy muscles and protruding bones. Long and gangly arms grew into misshapen claws. A bony extrusion developed on its upper back which made its malformed, fleshless head extend forward. Its skeletal face came to a blunt end, resembling a reptile and vapour swirled out among its jagged teeth. The emaciated body stood tall and shimmered as if it radiated heat. Even though the creature appeared solid, he knew, it was ethereal, as insubstantial as air. Its eyes were bright embers within the eye sockets and returned the penetrating gaze of its summoner. Nakal felt the demon try to invade his mind but swiftly repelled it. Trapping the Shachath, he released the energy to the vortex.
"What do you want with me? Dark Elf." The Shachath's raspy voice seemed to emanate from the rock and echoed around the cavern.
****
The Sword Cuts Deep: A Dark Tale of Fantasy Page 1
