by R. E. Fisher
It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, he thought.
Using its wings, the dragon managed to rise, throwing its head toward Hearthammer and the other dwarves. It punched them with its head, knocking them away from itself, and turned toward that damned bear that had wounded it.
Jeresette couldn’t sense the sword, so he cast a quick cantrip to detect any magic; there was none of great power, so the sword couldn’t be there. It isn’t here! He turned in frustration just in time to watch as the dragon killed the fat outworlder, much to his dismay.
He needed him! Frustration at his own miscalculation infuriated him. Bellowing his rage, he took his true and natural form. His muscular frame stood over thirty feet tall, and his skin appeared burnt and melted, like molten stone. The demon’s flesh kept rolling over into itself as it glowed with heat, hardening and collapsing much like magma did in the natural realm. His eyes were obsidian with golden pupils, like a cat’s eye. A set of horns that appeared to be made of polished steel adorned his head, and the intermittent glow of the heat breaking through his body reflected on them, shifting with the color of his lava-like skin. His hooves were hard and sharp, made of the blackest of stone. His fingernails were made of the same material and were long and sharp as well. His head was covered with long, black hair that rested between his large, curved horns and flowed down past his shoulders. He wore only a ragged loincloth and carried a sword. His sword was a full ten feet in length, and its magic was apparent even to the uninitiated.
He appeared behind the dragon, frightening Sterling, who had just managed to dodge the dragon’s tail as he arrived at the feet of the tallest demon he had ever seen. His eyes widened in fear and he turned, running into the darkness until he felt he had reached a safe distance, and then he worked his way back to the lit torches. The rage that Jeresette had voiced terrified all those within the cavern, and they paused briefly to see what had caused such a frightening sound. They watched as the demon, his visage a scowl of hatred and pain, pulled his sword of flame from its scabbard and began hacking at the dragon. The white-hot blade sliced through the dragon’s scales, causing the beast’s blood and flesh to cook and sizzle as the sword cut through its flesh. The dragon turned toward this new threat in agony; now knowing that it was doomed, it fought back from instinct and desperation alone. The dragon hadn’t realized that its heart had been dying ever since Dumas first wounded it, breaking its hip. Ignoring the pain and its foreseeable death, the dragon whipped its tail at the demon, wrapping it around Jeresette’s waist and squeezing as it pulled the demon toward its mouth.
The demon kept hacking at the dragon as Dumas shepherded the dwarves away from the titanic battle, knowing that they couldn’t survive if they stayed. Winston and those dwarves that remained ran away from the terrifying demon. Helor, Ollie, and Jehosaa needed no such guidance. They, too, rushed back to the torches, but when Ollie realized that Laz wasn’t with them, he looked back toward the dragon and the demon and saw his friend lying on the ground, his body twisted and the armor torn from his body. He saw Laz’s pistol lying on the ground next to him, and he drew his own. He brought the weapon up while shifting into a shooting stance and began pulling the trigger, hoping to at least get a double-tap off. Like the weapon Laz carried, it failed to fire. He jacked the round out of the chamber and fired again, which resulted in the same outcome. Why won’t my weapon fire? He tried to rush back to help his friend when Jehosaa grabbed him to prevent him from rushing to his own death. Ollie holstered his pistol and reached for his hammer to strike the barbarian, but Dumas knocked it from his grasp. Helor helped secure the now frantic outworlder, the two of them dragging him away. The rest couldn’t help but watch as they ran, even as the demon and the dragon battled. Those who survived began to make their way to the safety of the tunnel, each taking a torch with them and continuing to watch as they backed toward it.
The dragon managed to pull Jeresette close while the demon drove his sword deep into the dragon’s chest, puncturing the beast’s already dying heart. With its last breath, the dragon bit at the demon with its dagger-sized teeth, managing to lock its massive jaws onto the demon’s neck and head. It bit deep and ripped open a large vein in Jeresette’s neck. Blood began flowing out between the dragon’s yellowed teeth, staining the treasure below as it fell.
Jeresette realized that if he stayed in this plane, he would die because of that damned dragon. With a frustrated and horrific scream, he opened a portal to his own realm. He stepped back into Asmordia and into his throne room. His arrival caused a large degree of panic in most of those who served him, but also a small degree of hope in the others who saw his condition upon his arrival.
“It’s fucking gone! Let go of me, you bastards!” Ollie yelled, struggling to free himself from the grip of Helor and Jehosaa as he tried to rush back to his friend’s aid.
Dumas turned and looked back, as did the rest of them; they saw the still-thrashing body of the dragon, writhing in its death throes. Dumas, covered in blood, then began a mad rush toward his pupil, watching him closely for any sign of life. He moved as close to Laz as he could, but acid was still bubbling on his flesh and eating through the surrounding stone and scattered gold. The stench was horrible, and Dumas knew that his newfound friend and pupil was dead. He turned back to the group and shook his head.
Chapter 25
“She that is most desirable and sensuous shall be held highest amongst my flock.”
(F.Az., 1.33 - Book of Fire, Tenets of Azraela, Chapter 1, Verse 33)
So intent on catching their prey were they, the harpies didn’t even realize that they were no longer part of a murder. Yet in their lust for flesh, they persevered.
Tetra drew her dagger and then turned to see how much closer the harpies had come. They were catching up. Telerex was more powerful, but he could not fly as fast.
“It’s no good, my friend; they have arrived and will be attacking in a few moments,” she told the dragon.
While continuing to climb upward to try and escape the harpies, he turned to look; he, too, realized that they would soon be catching up to them, so he dropped his head and turned toward them, readying his fiery breath. He completed his change of direction and began gliding downward, then he turned toward the sun in the east, ensuring that he flew slowly enough to allow his attackers to adjust their course as well. He flew straight and true toward the bright sun, squinting as he did.
“Hold tight, Mistress; I’ll be needing to do something drastic in a few moments.”
Tetra reached down with her wounded, still-bleeding hand and slid her fingers under the leather strap, squeezing and ignoring the pain that it caused her. She also tightened her grip of him with her knees, unsure of what to expect.
Telerex held his wings as far out as he could, gliding downward at a slow angle and ensuring that he kept himself flying toward the sun. Once he felt he had picked up enough speed, he raised his head and arched his back, rolling his body back toward their enemies. He flew directly toward them from the sun, hoping that they were sunblind.
His hopes were rewarded as they realized, too late, that their prey had become the predator. They slowed their own flight and looked around for support, realizing that it was no longer there. With their confusion and indecision, they gave Telerex time to attack; he unleashed his breath on them. Intense heat and flames leapt from his mouth toward the harpies.
Two of the harpies had no chance at all. Their feathers were set ablaze, and without them, they began plummeting from the sky. The last two harpies, realizing they were now alone, changed directions and fled in fear. Each went in a separate direction from the other, hoping that the massive beast would not give chase. They flew away, looking to hide from the dragon’s wrath.
Satisfied, Telerex adjusted his course to return to the place they had initially been attacked.
“We must find my sword. It was wrenched from my hand,” Tetra told him. She was unsure why she had just lied to her friend. Her yearning to ha
ve the blade in her hand—or at least by her side—was tantamount to anything else she thought they should do.
“As you wish, Mistress.”
Lavalor came to a rest, imbedded to the hilt in the hard ground far below the battle that was occurring above him. He continued to watch, even as he fell. The harpies that he had perverted had turned on the rest of the murder, killing or driving all of them off.
He also watched as they circled, looking for anything else to kill but finding nothing. He was surprised as they turned toward him and descended. They came to rest in a circle around him, sitting on their birdlike feet; they rested with their hands on the ground, leaning forward, their wings pulled tightly against their backs. They seemed to be expecting something from him. They stared at the pommel of the sword with their yellow, hate-filled eyes.
The screeching that they had all been subjected to earlier, which had little effect on him, had stopped. He did not know why. The sky had been filled with cries of agony and pain throughout the battle with the remaining harpies. He studied them as he attempted to determine what had gone wrong with his spell. It was supposed to have been a simple creation spell, one that he had cast thousands of times. Simple: imagine what you wish, and bring it into existence. It was not like he had ever found it complicated, so why had it failed? He hadn’t created any beings or creatures since he’d shifted into the sword. Could that have something to do with it? he wondered.
He reached out to them in an attempt to try and read their thoughts. It was a mistake. Though he had not felt any pain when the harpies were attacking Tetra and Telerex, he had heard their shrieks of rage. Unaware of the pain those shrieks had caused the other two, he felt that pain now. His soul was being shredded from the volume of their thoughts and the rage that was held within them. He instantly regretted his attempt.
He shrank away from the voices, trying to cut off their thoughts. They pounced. The largest of the perildins leapt forward and ripped the sword from the ground, but Lavalor could lash back at it, unaware of how or why. The beast’s grip was rewarded with a burst of pain that was hundreds of times more painful than what Lavalor was experiencing. The perildin recoiled in agony, letting go of the sword and allowing it to fall to the ground. It grabbed its now numb hand and arm and jumped away just as Lavalor was able to cut off the path to its thoughts. Lavalor was unaware of what the beast had just experienced. The perildins stepped away from the blade, again forming a circle around him, waiting.
“This is the place,” Telerex said.
“What are those things below?” Tetra asked the dragon.
He looked down at the earth, and with his sharper vision he saw the seven black monsters that sat in a circle. He also saw that they surrounded his mistress’s sword. “I don’t know, Mistress, but they have your sword.”
“We must go get it!” she replied, the yearning for the blade foremost in her thoughts. It was so much in the forefront, she had yet to realize that the thirst she had been tortured with earlier had lessened to the point of being nearly forgotten.
Telerex began a slow, circular descent downward, expressing caution with the unknown monsters. However, it was not quick enough for Tetra. She disappeared from his back and appeared within the circle of perildins, who were startled by her sudden arrival.
They began to move toward her. Telerex, cursing at her impetuousness, wanted to dive downward to protect his mistress, but he did not.
Tetra gathered up the sword from the ground, and a type of relief she had never known filled her. The still-damp blood from her wounded hand stained the pommel with crimson, and her shoulders were covered with the blood from the wound on her scalp. She was a frightful vision to the perildins, but they could also smell the coppery tang that her blood exuded. The perildins paused, understanding—even more than Tetra—that she and the blade had already become one. And that gave each of them a fear that overshadowed their rage and hate for the blade. Before they could leap at her to rip her apart, she just disappeared.
She reappeared high above them, once again on Telerex’s shoulders. The dragon changed his course and sped toward the mountains, away from the corrupt, hideous beasts.
The perildins, still sensing the blade, leapt upward in pursuit of them.
I think they shall hound us until they figure out what to do with me, Lavalor told Tetra.
Let them. We’ve more important things ahead of us, she said to him. “Telerex, can you outdistance them?”
“Not easily, Mistress.”
Without a thought, Tetra laid her hands upon both Lavalor and Telerex. She looked far ahead of them, and suddenly they all disappeared from the perildins in pursuit.
The perildins slowed, unsure of where the blade had gone. They could no longer sense it, and without the blade, they could not fulfill their purpose.
Without any outward communication, they each knew that they must find the black stone sword.
They separated and began searching for the source of their pain.
For the first time in the whole of his existence, Lavalor had no answer for what had happened. He kept his thoughts in check; it appeared his thoughts were passing into her—and hers into him—without effort or desire. That made him uneasy.
Their thoughts seemed to be more separated from one another when she was preoccupied or concerned about something. He needed to create more turmoil within her. He dove as deep into the sword as he could to contemplate a way to accomplish that.
Tetra began to feel thirsty once again. She had not realized that her thirst had been somewhat quenched until they had completed their escape and she had more than a few moments to think about it. She made a conscious effort to keep Lavalor from her thoughts, and she allowed the voices within her to mask them to a slight degree. She thought about the brief battle and how the sword had become stuck within the harpy, but she could only conclude that it had become stuck within bone, as there was no other explanation. Yet her thirst was returning, reminding her of how she had felt for that short time without being in possession of Lavalor. Were they somehow tied together? Was it something he was doing to her?
Unsure, she resolved to find out. She looked around and saw that the sun was now setting, and that they were mere leagues from the Rohrfrost mountains. It would be a cold journey.
“Set down so that we may camp, Telerex,” she directed.
Telerex began searching for a suitable place to camp, and he spied an opening next to a small tributary that flowed from the mountain range. He glided down; once Tetra had slid from his shoulders, he shifted his body and slipped free of the large straps that held the oversized pack he carried.
Tetra walked away from him and found a more secluded spot. She sat down, leaning back against a tree and closing her eyes. She was exhausted by the day’s events; she’d been far busier that day than she had been in eons.
How do they survive out here? she thought, wondering how any of the lesser races continued to exist with things like she had seen all day. She was positive that they were abominations to what the gods had wanted.
No, they are the result of the pettiness and overexamination of their guidance, sister, Lavalor stated smugly. You and the others like you brought this about.
I do not wish to have this discussion again, Lavalor. Give me some peace! she demanded angrily.
Take your friend over there, for example. Does he truly have your interests at heart? He paused for a moment as she turned to look at Telerex. Have you not noticed his attitude for the last day or two? It’s as if we are somehow inconveniencing him, of all things. He was made to serve, not to befriend.
He has never been a servant, you madman. He has always been my friend, and a dear one at that, she replied.
Oh, so that’s what you would call a friend? He just takes you where you wish to go. If you knew how to get from one place to another, he would not even be necessary. Thus, the definition of a servant.
No; he wished to accompany me.
But only because you aske
d; not because he wanted to.
You were not there when we discussed it.
No; but I bet if you asked him now, would he leave? I’d say yes, but you do what you want to, Lavalor said, planting that seed in her mind. He would do the rest while she slept.
Just let him be, Lavalor; let him be, Tetra commanded forcefully.
As you wish; but I will not help when he turns away from you. We have no need of him. I can call on many who would aid you with my persuasion, he replied. He complied with her command without even realizing it.
They both fell silent as Tetra looked over at Telerex as he rested, unable to shift into his human form. She knew that he needed to hunt.
His task? she asked herself, wondering when it had become his to perform. Was Lavalor right? Was she treating him as one would a servant? Her anger was now directed at herself.
She thought for a brief second that she should go and apologize, but before she could stand, he turned away from them and rose into the air, flying away.
If that’s how he’s going to be, so be it, the Elfaheen thought, feeling betrayed. She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. The turmoil of the last few days and her constant questioning of herself had led her to the point of exhaustion. She fell asleep where she sat.
Lavalor smiled to himself, happy with the way things were progressing with her.
Tetra awoke several hours later in darkness; after a moment, her eyes adjusted as she looked around her. She stood, her body having become stiff, so she stretched to ease the pain and walked back to the camp to find something to quench her thirst. She rooted around for the waterskins and found them just outside the door of her tent, drinking deeply. After gulping down two of the waterskins, she realized that they had failed to quench her thirst. Though she had slept, she still felt fatigued—more so than normal. In her frustration, she threw the two empty waterskins to the ground and reached for more, but the remaining two were empty. She had forgotten that she’d drained both after leaving the mage’s keep. She needed to find something that would quench her thirst!
