Rise Of Darkness: Virgil Series Book One (The Virgil Series 1)
Page 12
Virgil was the first inside, drawing his ax and dagger once more. The room was lit in the same fashion that the others had been, but there was something different about its design. The room was circular and the middle of the room sloped down as if towards an empty pool of water. A hooded figure knelt in its center. Surrounding this man stood four specters who had immediately drawn their weapons and dashed towards the door.
“Ready yourselves!” Rex said as he jumped in.
“For the Light!” Virgil yelled, charged forward at two specters. Natasha targeted one on the right and Rex took the last. Raising his hand once more, Virgil released a red inferno of energy, a sweltering, angry ball of heat that met the upraised hand of one specter and dissipated into nothing.
By this time, Virgil had rushed in, expecting his enemies to be on fire. Instead, the lead specter reared and backhanded Virgil, throwing him down. Dazed with pain and surprise, he instinctually hit the floor rolling, avoiding a strike coming in from the other specter, and jumped back to his feet in time to get the blade of his dagger in the way of another attack. Virgil switched his footing and tried a swing at the other specter, catching it in the head and dropping him easily. Turning to face the other foe, he released another tendril of energy grabbing around the neck of the specter, but it merely severed the tendril of red with his own of black energy.
“I am more powerful then you can ever hope to be, human. For I am the Shadow Ripper.” The gravelly voice bored into Virgil’s soul.
Virgil could not steal a look to see how the others were doing at the moment, due to the volley of strikes being launched at him from his opponent. Ducking and dodging, Virgil blocked each strike until one caught him in the chest and tore away some of the leather of his battle armor. Rolling with the impact of the blow, he reached his feet again, his muscles burning with fire and exhaustion creeping into his body. Panting, he swung his ax and faked with the dagger, drawing his opponent down low. When this happened, he loosed a billow of energy that blasted the specter across the room and into the wall on the far side of the room. Following that up, he reached a tendril of red around the body of the Shadow Ripper and began to squeeze.
A slice of purple energy blew Virgil back, severing the tendril. The figure kneeling in the middle of the room rose to his feet and held out a hand.
“That will be quite enough, blood of Dvorak.” The voice sounded like that of a man but was distorted.
“Who are you? Show your face!” Virgil yelled back at the figure, and at the last second, dodged a blow from the Shadow Ripper.
Now fully engaged in combat again, Virgil kept a watch on the man who stood surveying the battle, his face concealed by the shadow cast by his hood. Rex yelled something incoherent, and looking over his shoulder, Virgil noticed the specter Rex had been fighting was dead.
The Shadow Ripper returned to the other side of the room, standing guard over the room’s only exit.
Virgil looked around, confused by the sudden break in the combat. He moved to the edge of the circle to rejoin Natasha and Rex.
“I am glad you have come, Executor. I was afraid you would not get to see me before you died.” The hooded man lowered his hood, revealing a pale face striated with blue veins and a row of runes tattooed across the man’s forehead.
Rex’s expression turned icy. “I thought you were dead when I saw the village.” He moved to circle his foe, mace at the ready, and one hand gripping the Codex of Light connected to his belt. “What are you doing here, Xavier?”
“I have come to gain the power that was denied me by the Order. I have come to raise an army worthy of my new position.”
“New position? You were a chaplain of the Light. I called you my brother for many years.”
“It can still be that way, brother.” Xavier held out a hand. “Join me. Know what true power feels like.”
Disgusted, Rex stepped back from his long-time friend.
Xavier looked at Virgil, shaking a finger at him. “I’d mind what you do now very carefully, boy. You are no match for the power I wield.”
Virgil hefted his ax, ready to put Xavier’s words to the test.
Rex reached out and stopped him from stepping into the circle. “Do not listen to him, Virgil. This is my fight.” And with that, Rex stepped into the circle.
A barrier of blue raised around the outskirts of the circle in the floor, trapping the two men in. Virgil struck the barrier with his ax which, upon impact, threw him and the weapon against the wall.
Pain flared up in Virgil’s back and Natasha raced to his side.
“Are you all right?”
Shrugging, he rose to his feet and approached the barrier again, this time without touching it. “What do you think you’re doing, traitor?” he shouted, pointing at Xavier with his ax.
“I thought the Executor of your Order and I would settle this as in the days of old, through ritualistic combat.” He dropped the cloak from his shoulders, revealing a brilliantly crafted set of black armor. “Shall we proceed with this honor duel?”
“I would rather not have to kill you, brother. You can come back from this. The Darkness has not taken all the good from you.”
“You think the Order can offer me more then what I am about to take on my own? Please don’t insult my intellect. The Order holds nothing. Soon there will be no Order. Once my Master strikes, all will be covered in darkness.” He drew what looked like the hilt of a sword with no blade. “I have learned a great many things after leaving your pitiful Order.”
A blade of black metal with flecks of purple emerged from the hilt.
“This blade of the Elders was gifted to me. The Master thought I needed a real magic wielder’s weapon. You know of these weapons, don’t you? The blades are the manifestation of the magic the user wields.”
Rex bowed his head in prayer, grasping the Codex of Light tightly. Then it began.
Rushing forward, Xavier swung the sword of the Elders, a streak of purple energy whipping behind the blade as if it were the tail of a comet.
Rex pulled the mace up in time to block it, and a white light lit up the arena. Rex answered the blow with a blast of white light that swirled toward Xavier, who had by that point moved back, anticipating the strike from Rex. Quickly he threw up a barrier of energy around himself as the white spiral slammed into the orb of purple protecting him.
“You were once my brother, Xavier—I would not have you killed!” Rex said as his spiral of white energy dissipated after the failed attack.
Xavier lifted his head and smirked as the barrier of protection became the weapon. The barrier exploded, bursting in all directions and catching Rex off guard, hurling him back. Rex lay prone on the ground, a small cut bleeding on his forehead.
“Get up, Rex!” Virgil yelled.
“This is why you are weak, old man. Instead of staying with your initiative, you would lower your guard to try and win me back?” Xavier snorted in disdain for the man he once called friend. “Now get up and let’s finish this fight. I will not have you die lying down.”
Rex rose to his feet. Virgil could sense a great sorrow coming from him, as he must have come to the realization he would have to kill Xavier to protect the Order. “If a fight is what you want. Then you shall have it.”
Rex’s mace lit up with the white energy of his magic, and he charged. His foe threw a bolt of purple, but Rex’s mace swatted it away. Throwing a blast of white energy into his opponent, Rex knocked him off balance and struck with his mace. It was clumsily blocked, but Rex threw in a savage punch, connecting with Xavier’s right cheek, tearing the skin open.
Stumbling back, Xavier raised his hand and purple tendrils reached out, grasping at Rex. One caught him by the leg, bringing him down, while the others he batted away with his emblazoned mace.
The sword came at him, but Rex rolled to his right to avoid the blow. The energy from the sword crashed into the floor, leaving a searing black line where it had made contact. Rex jumped back to his feet and kicked
Xavier’s hand, blade sent spinning away. Rex swung his mace, catching Xavier in the chest and throwing him back toward the barrier, but he skidded to a stop before hitting the barrier itself.
“Is this all that you can muster to fight me? I thought the Executor of the Order would be more of a challenge.”
Rex’s shoulders shook from exhaustion.
He stood once more, agony written on his face with every block of his mace, every movement he made. Sidestepping a blow from the sword, he hefted his mace at the Xavier’s face. He missed but managed to spin with the blow and deliver a sidekick to Xavier’s gut, eliciting a howl of pain and his foe dropped instantly to one knee. Taking the opportunity, Rex swung the mace down, but it was caught by the blade of energy. Pushing down with all the might he had left, Rex tried to end the man on his knees before him. Throwing all his weight into it, he groaned, then lashed out with a brutal kick to the face, dropping Xavier to the ground. Xavier looked as though he was dazed from the blow, and Rex moved quickly and put the mace to the man’s throat in a sign of taking the victory.
“I have you, Xavier, but I will not kill you in cold blood. You have been beaten. Do you yield?”
Rex had bested the fallen chaplain and traitor to their Order.
“I will never yield to you,” Xavier said as he pulled a knife from behind him and stabbed Rex deep in the thigh. The blade hung out of his leg as Rex hit the ground, his armor clanging as he landed on his back. Rising to his feet, Xavier retrieved his sword and made his way to Rex who was trying desperately to reach the other side of the arena by pulling himself backward. Xavier put his boot to Rex’s face, dropping him, and then placed his foot at the man’s neck.
Anger like no other shook Virgil to the core, as if it were going to burst forth, taking everything down with it.
“You die now, Rex!” Xavier said, lifting the blade of the Elders above his head for the final strike.
That was it. Virgil released the pent-up energy and focusing it at the barrier, blasting a hole right through the blue protective field. It shivered and shattered, falling away into blue dust. Rushing forward with ax in hand, Virgil raised his hand and sent forth a blast that took Xavier in the chest, throwing him clear across the room, slamming him into the wall.
“Can you walk?” Virgil questioned Rex upon reaching him.
“Yes, I think I can,” Rex said as he struggled to his feet.
Racing across the room came a purple tendril. Extending his hand, Virgil shot a blaze of red, catching the purple streak a few feet from Rex, holding the energy then as a deadly game of tug of war began, the two energies merging and shifting closer. Virgil pushed all of his energy into the power coming from him. The two colors mixed into a burgundy swirl of pulsing force.
“You are pitiful, you are weak,” Xavier said as he pushed the tendril toward Virgil’s body. “What do you know of true power?”
“The power of Light may have left you, but I bare the blood of Dvorak. I have the power to defeat any darkness that comes before me.” As the words left Virgil’s mouth, the tendril of red energy began to push the purple one across the room to within mere feet of Xavier’s hands, horror twisting his features. Sweat broke out on Virgil’s forehead; every muscle shrieked and shuddered. Virgil didn’t know how long he could hold it for—seconds, maybe—but willed himself to move not a muscle.
It soon would not matter. The Shadow Ripper stepped next to Xavier and raised his hand to cast a tendril of black toward Virgil. A bolt bristled in the Ripper’s chest, shoving him back. The tendril dissipated and he turned to Natasha who joined Rex. A blinding white light shot forward, and pushing with all his might, Virgil sent a shockwave of energy pulsing toward the maelstrom of the swirling powers where, when it hit the mixture, it exploded, hurling Virgil and Xavier against opposite walls. The blast ripped through the rest of the room, destroying everything in its path.
Dust choked the air, rubble from statues and shards of wood littered the floor, split beams hung suspended from the ceiling. Virgil blinked, trying to clear his head as he heard a loud clang from across the room. Rex doubled over on the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Virgil stumbled over to his friend.
“I am sorry, Rex, I should have done better to protect you.”
“It is not your fault, my boy. It was my choice. I knew we would find Xavier here. Not in this state . . . I thought him to be held captive. This was . . . far worse.”
As Rex spoke, Virgil peered through the dust to the other side of the room.
Their foes were gone. Natasha—where was she? Virgil rose to his feet and scoured the room but found nothing except for a dagger.
Virgil grasped the weapon, noticing the sigil of House Romansky on the blade. Had they taken her? Grief, then rage, flooded his mind. A wet cough sounded from the far side of the room where Rex lay. Virgil ran back to his side and knelt once again next to his friend and mentor.
“Vir-Virgil . . . you must—” Rex coughed once more. Flecks of blood splattered his palm. “You m-must lead the Order now. My life . . . is fa-fading.”
“No, this cannot be! I have much to learn from you still.” Virgil grasped his hand and squeezed it as tears began to run. Virgil loved Rex as a father, one he’d never had.
“You al-already have the . . . knowledge you need. Keep your anger at bay . . . and protect the realm from this evil, for me—”
Coughing once more seized him; the blood steadily leaked from his mouth. His final breath was labored; the wound from the sword that punctured his armor must have hit his lung. He died in that moment, his eyes looking unblinking at Virgil.
Virgil’s hand covered his mentor’s face and lowered of his hand down the man’s face to close his eyes. Grief welled. Virgil took hold of Rex’s fallen mace. Hooking the weapon to his side, he then began to disconnect the chain holding the Codex of Light onto Rex’s armor. Unfastening the book was easy but it was the act of doing so that was so difficult. Holding the book in hands, he began to flip through the pages, noticing the writing in the margins of the book to be in Rex’s hand, including full passages he had added. Virgil arrived at the last page, catching a glimpse of a note written there. It was made out to him.
Virgil, if you are reading this now, then I have passed, and as I have wished, my Codex of Light has come into your possession. You were the son I never had, and one of my best students. I pen this on the night of finding out my new position within the Order. I have detailed this book with notes that have helped me, along with the personal experiences I have had while in the Order that have transformed my life. I hope it finds you well in your new role as you take on the leadership of the Order in my stead.
Rex, High Chaplain of the Order of Dvorak
16
Tears ran from Virgil’s glistening eyes, dotting the page as he read the note several times. Sinking against the wall, he began to sob. Totally alone now, he was the sole surviving chaplain of his Order, and it was up to him to find a way to stop Xavier, rescue Natasha, and lead the Order through whatever came next. The weight was too much to bear.
Slowing his breathing, he gathered what energy to spark a weak source of light from his pendant and picked his way through the rubble. Virgil found the door on the other side of the room. He attempted to push it open but soon found it barred from the other side with something heavy.
Looking within himself, he began to gather the power of the Light. But it was gone. He stumbled back in disbelief, falling to his knees with a yell of frustration.
“Now you leave me? At this moment when I need your Light the most?” He ran his fingers through his coarse hair. What could he do?
Remembering Rex’s letter, he sat with legs crossed in front of the door and began to clear his mind. Closing his eyes, he could see the images of Jack, Popavich, and Rex, all looking at him from the far side of a river. All with the wounds they had sustained while on this horrid mission. Their mouths moved but the words were silent. Then one by one they faded into a creeping fo
g that overtook the entire river.
The fog turned black, and Virgil saw a face appearing on the other side of the river, a face covered by bronze beaked mask that seemed molded onto its head. The hooded figure was cloaked in black. He carried a scythe of considerable wear, its jagged and rusted blade sharp but old. It faced Virgil.
“Join me, Son of Dvorak. We can rule this world together. The time of men is over. We shall bring a new age, one of power and unity.”
Virgil opened his mouth to reply but the vision faded, and his eyes sprung open in horror. He had seen what he believed to be the new dark lord.
Closing his eyes once more, he cleared his mind of the fear and anger he felt. Virgil prayed to the Mother of Light.
“Mother, I need your guidance now more than ever. Give me the strength to lead our people and connect fully to the Light.”
He breathed in deep and energy trickled in his body, but when he opened his eyes, he still sat in the dark of the room with only dim light bleeding through the broken ceiling. Cursing in his mind, he began to stand, when a blinding light burst out.
Virgil jumped and rolled away from the beams, thinking the room was collapsing onto him. The blinding light subsided and a hand of golden light reached under Virgil’s chin, pulling his gaze from the floor.
“Dvorak? But how . . .” Virgil looked upon the face of his legendary ancestor in disbelief and wonder.
His golden eyes blazed with gentle confidence. “Virgil, you have the gift of light I once had. Those in our line have been denied the full extent of power I once wielded until now, until you. Virgil, you alone hold the answer to defeat the evil that comes to devour the world of men. It’s your time to lead the Order to its final stand against the evils that the Order was created to keep at bay. It’s your time to rise and take a final stand against this evil or let the world fall into an age of unending darkness.”
Virgil recoiled in disbelief. “I just don’t know if I am ready for that.”