Sevanouir: Rebirth (The Strange Tales of the Malefic Book 1)

by D'Artagnan Anderle

  He would let the creature come to him.

  He could feel the creeping apprehension. Either the Quintessence the creature was made from was causing these shudders or Sevanouir itself might be trying to warn him. He would have to ask Bo after he killed this thing.

  He chuckled. Just a moment ago, he was contemplating death, and now he felt sure of his victory; maybe he was cut out for this. He checked his stomach and felt that the wound had shut and dry blood caked his hand. Another jolt of that sickening energy—the creature was about to strike. Sylas turned to face the glass walls. He smiled as he once again set Sevanouir alight. He had an idea.

  The glass shattered as the creature charged through it from outside. Sylas could see its body reflecting the light and in one smooth movement he flipped the sword so that he was holding it like a spear, and cast it forth.

  It flew straight at the apparition. Just before the blade collided with its head the creature vanished once more, and Sevanouir disappeared into the void. Sylas continued to feel chills and knew that the creature would not give him another chance to collect himself. He could feel it behind him. He turned and saw the dust on the floor shifting again, small marks appearing on the floor as the creature dragged its deadly armaments along the ground.

  Sylas fell back as the creature leapt towards him, dust spinning in the air. Just as Sylas hit the floor, Sevanouir flew above him and pierced the creature. He rolled back as the creature finally made a sound, a screeching, ghostly howl of rage and pain. He knew Sevanouir would miss that first time, but since anything the barrier swallowed simply reversed direction it allowed him to counterattack.

  He finally saw it; its transparent cloak had fallen and he could see the creature’s gray, cracking skin. It had no facial features, but markings of some kind were scarred into its entire being. The scythe-like hands softened and lost their form, appearing as colorless tentacles that lay still.

  Sylas extended his hand and Sevanouir appeared. He tightened his grip as the creature once again fell silent and stood completely still as black liquid spilled out of its chest. He needed to take this opportunity to end it, so he dashed forward. However, just before his blade could cleave it, he heard the creature speak.

  “Hello, Son of Raines Chevalier.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sylas paused in his attack, his blade touching but not cutting through the creature. He narrowed his good eye and huffed, “I’ll consider these your last words; speak up.”

  “So eager for blood, unlike your father,” the creature growled. Sylas could hear a feminine voice, but it was buried under a hoarse, crackling echo.

  “If you’re gonna try and manipulate me using my old man, don’t bother. I’m already good and pissed,” Sylas declared, as he dug the edge of his blade into the creature’s neck. Black liquid seeped out as it hissed in response.

  “Listen to my proposition, boy. You could end this right now, and see you father again.”

  For a moment, Sylas’ grip faltered and his anger gave way to shock. He quickly steadied himself and got even closer to the beast, his blade cutting deeper.

  “Funny, if it were so easy, why did you need to kill my father?” Sylas demanded, “Could have spared you and your buddies the hell I will put you through before the end of this.”

  “Your father, unfortunately, did not cooperate. You can right his wrong.”

  “By doing what, exactly? Joining your band of misfit minions?” he scoffed.

  “You are unnecessary; the sword is required.”

  “Well, thanks for making me feel special.”

  “Make no mistake; this revenant is ravenous and will hunt its target until it has been consumed. However, should you stay your blade and wait for our call, I shall banish it. Then, with your malefic’s abilities, my master will be able to complete his conquest. All of our wrongs, yours and mine, can be undone.”

  “No.”

  “You won’t even consider it?”

  “You killed my father, and you want to act like it’s fine because your master has some grand plan that lets him grant wishes or some shit?” Sylas hissed. “If Raines Chevalier turned you down and did all that he could to make sure you didn’t get Sevanouir, I’m not just going to hand it over to you for a pat on the head and a promise,” he growled, removing the saber from the revenant’s neck and reaching back.

  “A pity, I had hoped this would end better for you, but it will be no matter once we reach the end of this reality. However, I do enjoy being right.”

  Sylas swung, attempting to bisect the creature at the waist, only to collide with nothing. The revenant had disappeared again.

  “You refuse to see the magnificent world you have become a part of. You are nothing but a pathetic little tool.”

  Sylas heard the tearing of the floors and the shattering of glass. He turned to see the room being ripped apart by the once-again-invisible horror. He illuminated Sevanouir, but the revenant was moving too quickly for him to follow with the light.

  He fell to the floor, pain erupting from his left leg. He looked down to see a deep wound across his hamstring. He propped himself up with his blade and tried to focus. The creature was not targeting him anymore; it had gone into a malicious frenzy.

  He leaned back and, using his good leg, hopped out of the studio and back into the house. He used the wall to help him limp down the hall. He knew his hunter would soon follow. In fact, that was his hope.

  The halls were narrow with low ceilings, giving him a chance to fight. Once the creature pursued him, he only had to concern himself with striking what was in front of him; he didn’t have to worry about it flanking him. As he turned and positioned himself, saber at the ready, the house grew silent.

  Sylas could see the remainder of the studio through the doorway; it was torn asunder. Some walls were completely gone, and the all of the glass had been broken. However, the revenant seemed to have vanished. He began second-guessing himself. His head darted around, looking for evidence of where it was going to strike.

  He checked his leg; the wound was healing rapidly but he still couldn’t put much weight on it. He moved back with small steps, constantly checking his surroundings. Then, as he passed the guest bedroom he realized his mistake. He saw the open window and it dawned on him: when the creature started attacking at random he thought it had become a mindless beast, but it was obviously still under the control of whomever he was talking to. They would see past his attempt to gain the advantage and attempt to ambush him through another opening.

  He had to leave the house; there were too many opportunities for it to strike. He hobbled to the window and threw Sevanouir to the ground before lifting himself out, unceremoniously hitting the damp grass below. He took in his surroundings. There were only about thirty or forty feet between the exterior of the house and the dark void trapping him.

  Then, he heard an odd noise above him, like something smashing into a deep pool of water. He looked up to see a purple light cascading across the black sky above. The color was familiar.

  “Izzy!” he surmised. She and Roux must have doubled back and were attempting to get him out. Even in the fear of the moment, he chuckled. He supposed he would not give them too much of a hard time, should he survive this. The cavalry was always a bit late; they wouldn’t look as good otherwise.

  He felt the terrible chill return; the revenant was close. He shifted his right foot underneath his blade and kicked it up, catching it in his hand. He poured a little more Ether into it, and the light glimmered around him. He couldn’t see the creature, but he knew it was here. He heard a loud crack above him and spun around to look at the roof. In the light, he could see the revenant bearing down on him.

  He had little time to react; he had to decide between dodging the blow or trying to counter. He realized that with his leg still mending he wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough to avoid the attack, so he gripped his blade tightly and lunged forward. He saw it was going for his head so he tilted away, hoping
to avoid a direct hit. He could feel the heat of blood cascade down his face and the bandages covering his wounded eye fall away, but he also felt the sudden force of Sevanouir piercing its target, and heard the revenant let out another ghostly wail.

  Sylas stumbled back before it landed on top of him. The creature once again became visible and he could see he had pierced what looked to be its shoulder. Then he noticed something peculiar. The being was glowing—an Ethereal monochrome hue shimmered around it, seeming to make up its entire being. It swirled around as if it were in a heavy wind, and erratic sparks spewed forth from its body.

  Sylas felt a stinging pain from his previously damaged eye, and pressed a hand to it to try and numb it. The odd aura around the creature disappeared; he could see it trying to slip back into its camouflaged state, shifting between visible and invisible. As the pain subsided, he removed his hand from his eye and the strange hue returned. Even as the revenant faded from view, he could see its form, wrapped in dim colors, crawling across the grass and trying to circle around him.

  This was a fortunate development, at least for Sylas.

  He let his blade fall to his side as he watched the monster move past him, slithering behind him. He waited, listening for the movements that would give away its attack. He heard the grass behind him rustle as the beast shifted its weight, preparing to pounce. Then, seen by no one, Sylas smiled devilishly.

  The revenant lashed out, going for what it thought was an unknowing, wounded prey. Sylas quickly spun and sliced clean through its chest, a thick black liquid gushing down its body and spilling onto the swordsman. He saw it thrash about. Though it was faceless, Sylas could still discern the feelings of confusion, pain, and fear that the creature was emitting. He began to wonder if the controller’s feelings were coming through, though he was enjoying the thought that he could make a such ghastly thing feel fear.

  The revenant hobbled away, trying to steady itself so that it could run, but Sylas wouldn’t give it the chance. He ran to it and slashed the back of its legs, causing it to collapse and give a pathetic gasp as it fell to the ground. He knelt and picked it up by the head.

  With anger making his voice shake, he asked, “Were you hoping that this would end better for you?”

  The revenant hissed before trying to bite him with its dagger-like fangs. Sylas responded by bashing the creature’s head into the wall of the house and tossing it aside. As it lay there twitching and shuffling, Sylas heard the voice from before speak once more, “Thi..this isn’t how it was supposed to be. How were you able to beat a revenant? How can you wield…tha…that blade after only having it for days? You have rui…ruined everything I have sacrificed so much for!”

  “You’re not going to make a convincing victim to me. I don’t know who you are or what the hell went wrong with you, but allow me to point out the difference between our tragedies,” Sylas growled as he stabbed Sevanouir into the dirt and knelt down beside the decrepit creature. “Something bad happened to you, and you decided to follow some Jim Jones-sounding bastard for the chance to make everything go away. You killed my father, so I decided to make all of you go away. In other words…” he got up and grabbed the handle of his blade. He could hear the revenant forcing itself up. “You decided to pray; I decided to look for prey.”

  Leda stood up, shaking, blood dripping as her breathing became raspy. Her connection with the revenant was killing her. She saw Sylas’ figure blurring in front of her and rasped, “It doesn’t matter. He…he will find it and fix everything. Nothing you do matters!” Her anger reached its fever-pitch and she commanded the revenant to make one last desperate strike.

  “If you live through this, tell all your friends to keep their necks clean; it makes this easier,” Sylas commanded as he kicked the revenant with all the force he could muster; it sailed into the abyss. As it came back, he removed Sevanouir from the ground and decapitated the revenant.

  “Any luck?” Roux asked, as Izzy continued to hammer on various points around the dome.

  “No, I can’t find any points of weakness. He’s trapped,” Izzy said dejectedly. However, just then they saw the dome begin to fade. The absolute darkness disintegrated and the house became visible. Roux felt his heart stop and Izzy’s breath hitched as they looked to see if their friend had survived, or if whoever made the dome had simply finished their task. Then they saw a flicker of light. It was the moonlight shining off Sevanouir’s blade, which was held by a bloody but upright Sylas as he looked around to see he was free.

  “Sy!” Roux shouted as he leapt from the tree, his strings catching a branch and slowing his descent. He ran over to his friend as Izzy landed behind him and followed suit, both of them beaming with relief.

  Sylas walked over to them and Roux hugged him joyously. “Good to see you made it, and without my help this time!”

  “What? Did you just want to see if I could handle myself again?” Sylas asked sarcastically. “Also…” he shoved his friend off him, “No touching. I’m not that lonely, Roux.”

  Roux chuckled as Izzy walked up beside him, “It’s good to see you made it out all right; you seem to have a talent for… Uh, what’s up with your eye?” she asked

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s dark and…the color is…” She stopped herself and took out her phone. She snapped a picture and showed it to him; his eye was black with the exception of a white iris. He placed his hand next to his eye, dumbfounded.

  “I don’t know. When I first opened it, I could... I was attacked by a revenant being controlled by someone. During the fight, it cut off my bandages and then I could see some sort of light coming off it.”

  “Quintessence.” The three of them jumped and Sylas brought his blade up, but Bobo caught it. “Watch where you point that thing, kid.”

  “Don’t sneak up on us like a damn slasher villain!” Roux shouted.

  “Sneak, huh? I’m built like a bear; I can’t sneak for anything. Besides, isn’t that supposed to be your expertise?” Bo chided as he looked back at Sylas. “You saw its Quintessence. Like we mentioned, beings like that are mostly comprised of it. Looks like when the doppel nicked you, some of its distilled essence got into you. Count yourself lucky; most of the time that happens, you end up dead rather than with a new fashion statement.”

  “You mean that dark liquid?” Sylas asked, looking back at the beheaded corpse. The stuff was dripping from its wounds and its skin was starting to flake and fall apart.

  “Yeah. When it gains a form, quint basically acts like its lifeblood.”

  “As opposed to what other kind of blood?” Izzy asked sarcastically.

  “Keep it up, smartass, and no more free drinks,” Bo countered. “My guess is when it got into you, your Ether kept it from doing any real damage, and it basically became a part of your eye and therefore your vision. Pretty sure it came in handy when dealing with the revenant. Props to you—even I haven’t killed a rev.”

  “Does that include priests?” Sylas jibed. He let go of Sevanouir and it disappeared in a white flash.

  “Eh, maybe just their sense of decency,” Bo chuckled. “Being serious for a moment. I’m glad you’re all right, Sy, but now that you know the stakes, can you really do this? After you left I made some calls, and Twixt offered to shelter you.”

  “Not happening,” Sylas avowed. “Whoever is doing this isn’t going to simply give up because I run and hide. The woman who made that thing spoke to me; they want Sevanouir for some end of the world deal or something to that effect.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, thinking back to the deal she tried to make. “Said that they tried to make pops go along with it; he said no and it cost him. Now that I’m in his spot, I’m not taking the deal either. But I’m going to make it cost them.”

  The others looked to each other and then back to him, “Well then, welcome aboard,” Bo said, offering a hand.

  Sylas looked at him quizzically, “Talking about Twixt? I didn’t say I was joining.”

  �
�Don’t be so stubborn. If you’re going to do this, if we’re going to do this, having experts, funds, and research is always a bonus. Plus, you could get a pretty nice bounty for that rev you killed and fix up your house. It looks good on the resume, too.”

  “For what, the Men in Black?” Sylas chortled.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that; those guys are dicks.” Roux sighed. Sylas looked at him to see if he was joking. He was not.

  “Technically, I have to help you because it’s my mission, but I wanna help anyway. Seems like fun, and you’re good…interesting people,” Izzy said with a smile.

  “Fine, I promise to think about it,” Sylas agreed, shaking Bo’s hand.

  “I would make up your mind pretty quick. HQ has been hearing about all the stuff going on, and has sent a couple of other people to…help,” Roux admitted, nervously ruffling his hair. “Though to be fair, seems like a good idea, considering tonight’s events. Whoever these guys are, they aren’t playing.”

  “No shit,” Sylas mumbled. “And, oh goodie, I get to meet more of you.”

  “Hey, we’re not so bad,” Izzy grumbled. “Besides, you knew these two before they went all magical on you…though that may not be the best example.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sylas chuckled. “I guess you’re not.”

  They left soon after. Sylas was staying with Bo for the night. He still wondered where this would all lead, but he did know one thing. He knew he would see it to the end.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  In a darkened lodge nestled in the forest outside Ombre Falls, a bloodied body lay face down on the floor surrounded by frayed books, shattered glass, and tarnished figures. The man, leaning against the doorframe of the main entrance, beheld the gory scene and sighed before his voiced hitched in a stifled chuckle.