by JW Baccaro
Nayland threw another a swing. “They’re getting smart. Kaylis you’re going to have to help, if we are to get out of here alive.”
Kaylis didn’t say anything, only continued to tremble, frozen with fear.
The creatures seemed to smell his terror. Howling, roaring and snarling they set their sights on him.
Kaylis began to quiver badly, almost dropping to his knees. The sword slipped from his hands and he could scarcely breathe while three beasts lunged his way.
Nayland attempted to fend them off while the forth sunk its teeth into his ankle. He fell, letting go of his weapon and the beast jumped onto him, trying to get his throat. Clenching a fist, he punched it hard in the face and knocked it off, then reached for his axe and decapitated it. Rising up, looking over at Kaylis, he rejoiced to see his brother was standing also, holding a bloody sword while the last three beasts lay dead at his feet; wounds across their chests. “You killed them?” Nayland asked, already knowing the answer.
“I don't know how; one moment they are jumping on me, the next—they’re dead? I do not even recall picking up my sword.”
Nayland smiled but it quickly faded, as the horror wasn’t over.
Overshadowing them came a final beast, if it were even correct to call it a ‘beast’ for it wasn’t an animal, rather a thing. It stood about fifteen feet tall, with reddish-gray skin, hunchbacked with a sloped head and three triangular shaped citrine-like eyes on each side of its face. It possessed large fangs and its body mass looked as if it consisted of dense muscle, bulky at every curve.
This creature terrified even Nayland. “A Bonnsag!” he muttered.
Kaylis looked to him, half confused, half smiling. "A—what sag?"
"Bonnsag. Funny name, I know, but not at all a funny creature to encounter. Legend has it they’re the bodily remains of Gods who walked the earth eons ago. Gods, whose giant bodies were destroyed in battle, mutilated and dismembered with the pieces rotting into the earth, only to take up new life once again by black magicians. Normally, the magicians' would conjure spells over the strongest bodily members and bring them to consciousness, making each into a creature itself. With an arm, a leg, a foot or a skull, or as in the case before us…A grotesque muscle! If you can believe the tales. I’ve heard father speak of them, the description is exact! I thought it was myth.”
To show off its strength the Bonnsag grabbed a lone standing maple tree in the meadow, uprooted it and with its large bulky hands tore the poor thing to splinters. Then, it made a roar unlike anything they’d ever heard—indescribable and frightening.
“Kaylis run!”
With no hesitation, they darted for the woods. “Wait, we cannot lead this thing back to the village,” Kaylis warned. “It will kill everyone.”
“Not father.”
“And if he is not there?”
Before he could answer, the Bonnsag caught up to them, shaking the very ground as it ran and swooped a hand at Kaylis.
By a mere second, Nayland pushed him out of the way and was taken instead.
“Brother no!” Kaylis shouted.
Fortunately, Nayland still held his axe and as the Bonnsag attempted to crush him like a bug, he chopped into its hand twice, as hard as he could, cutting off a few fingers.
Dropping him, it roared horribly, then tried stomping his body.
Nayland rolled out of the way and its foot crashed into the ground making a small crater. He then rose up, darted behind it and struck one leg with his axe, but before he could escape the Bonnsag threw back its other leg, landing a blow to his chest and the Nasharin flung through the air like debris. Laying flat on the ground, with a vanishing aura, the Bonnsag approached.
“Nayland look out!” Kaylis shouted.
The Bonnsag stopped and stared at him, as if deciding which one to crush first.
“No, just run!” Nayland said, slowly rising to his feet.
“I can’t leave you.”
“Get father!” Concentrating his energy, the black aura of Shadow Fire returned, burning higher than ever, despite his wounds.
Excited by the flames, the Bonnsag decided on Nayland.
He won’t be alive by the time I return to the village, Kaylis thought. And father will never forgive me for abandoning Nayland…”
The Bonnsag, now ten or twelve feet from Nayland, roared savagely while pounding its chest like a maddened gorilla, preparing to strike.
“All right, come on. I am ready,” Nayland yelled. With all his power and will, he unleashed the strongest wind he could, hoping to blow the Bonnsag over, then strike at its throat.
Unfortunately, nothing happened, nothing at all! It stood its ground making a noise resembling a laugh.
Nayland sank to his knees, out of power, awaiting a death he never expected at so young an age. Then he noticed something glowing behind the giant creature—some type of golden light.
The muscled monster noticed it also and turned around.
Nayland saw a sphere of beautiful energy, like a little sun three feet in diameter.
This ball of light rested above Kaylis’ head, his right arm rose under it…his eyes blazing gold. He was controlling it. Casting down his arm, the sphere hurled forward, screeching through the air, flying directly into the Bonnsag and blew it to pieces. Kaylis dropped to the ground.
Nayland rushed over, stepping around chard bits of muscle and blackened bone. “Kaylis! Kaylis!” he said, tugging his arm.
He opened his eyes. “Is it dead?”
Laughing, Nayland replied, “Yes brother, you did it! You unlocked a power, your power. Though I haven’t the slightest idea what it is.”
“I—do not know what happened. I feel nothing now.” Slowly, Kaylis sat up, meeting Nayland’s excited eyes. “When you transform can you not feel it?”
“Of course you can. Though, I would say you were not in a transformed state. Your hair remained the same. Only your eyes shone— shone golden. Ha, it was wild!”
“But your hair is the same when transformed.”
“I have an aura. You did not. That is our signature of Transformation. Though it is odd you used the ability in normal form. Tell me, what happened?”
“It’s strange. Somehow, when you struck that creature with wind, I instinctively absorbed the energy and converted it into—I guess I would say pure energy. At the time, I could feel and understand everything.”
“That attack was too powerful to come about from my wind. The energy wasn’t that strong.”
“Well, somehow by converting it to a pure manifested state, I increased the power? But I don’t—I do not know how I did it! That is frustrating beyond all, and sounds illogical.”
“Father will know I’m sure. We should get back anyhow. It’s growing dark. Wow, what a story to tell him. Oh brother, he will be so proud!”
Kaylis smiled, for the first time in his life he could not wait to talk to his father, see his face lighten upon hearing about his strange ability.
Gradually, off in the far distance came the howls, the same howls made by the ravage wolf-like creatures they’d previously killed.
The boys looked to one another, eyes widened.
“They’re coming from the direction of the village,” Nayland said. “There must be hundreds.”
“What are they?”
His expression grew worried. “I remember, they are Worgs. Like the Bonnsag father talked about them too. The creatures called Cullach ride them. And where there are Worgs, there are bound to be Cullach also.”
“But why are creatures like that so close to the village?”
An expression of horror shot across Nayland’s face. “Come on!”
With what little strength they had left, they ran and ran until reaching their village, finding it under attack by at least a thousand different ugly creatures. Dead bodies lay everywhere, homes were burning, women and children screaming.
“We must find father!” Nayland exclaimed.
They scurried through the fight
ing, the killing, and soon found Magnus battling numerous disgusting beings: lizard-like men, Worgs, pig men which probably were Cullach since they were riding the Worgs, sorcerers and many, many others. Magnus was laying them all to waste. But the horde looked to be wearing him down, one by one they steadily seemed to overpower him.
Then came a creature or more like a monster, enormous, huge—too hideous to describe. The boys clearly overheard others calling it, Valnar. He or it appeared to be the strongest, using only his mind, casting out strange blue violet rings, attacking Magnus relentlessly.
He fell to his knees and then a sword, driven by one of the lizard creatures, plunged through the upper right side of his chest. Laying eyes on his sons, seeing them present while their expressions seemed shattered with horror, he wondered what he’d done to deserve such a fate, to bring even them to death. Then recalling the last words he’d spoken to Kaylis, “You are not my son,” broke his heart. Having a look of regret and sorrow, he collapsed to the ground.
“Bring him to me,” Valnar commanded, his voice a loud crackling—ear piercing tone.
“Father, no!!” Nayland shouted, taking a charge toward the heathens.
Two beams of deep blue light, cast out of the eyes of Valnar, struck his shoulder, burning immensely to the bone and down he went.
Kaylis, falling to rage, held high his sword and began running at this Valnar.
Seeing him and laughing a tad, Valnar shot another set of light bursting out from his eyes.
Remembering his power of absorbing other elements and energies, like when fighting the Bonnsag, Kaylis didn’t attempt to dodge but stood his ground—except this time, it didn’t work and the blast blew him down hard, scorching his chest.
The Cullach grabbed him and tossed him into a cage upon a chariot, along with a few others, slamming shut the gate. Before drifting into darkness, he saw Nayland was still alive and managed to crawl into some thick brush unnoticed. “Please remain hidden little brother,” he whispered to himself. The last things he heard would haunt him forever—the cries of his mother Sorrel, off in the distance—her cries were of terror, pain, horror and despair.
* * *
Kaylis awoke in a cold sweat, still lying over the log he’d fallen asleep on. Though somehow, it had broken in half and drifted to shallow waters; his feet were hanging off dragging against little rocks. The current seemed slow, the sun shining and he now floated close to shore. “Why do my dreams have to be memories of the past? Can I not ever dream something nice?” He let go of the log and stood up in the river, gazing upon the strange forest.
All around him, on both sides of the Azriel, stood great red Cedar Trees, majestic and strong, but he’d never seen one except for in drawings. He wondered where he could be. Watching the log drift further away, the real problem struck his mind. “Did I pass my destination? Oh no, I hope not. Yet it is possible, I could have been out for days. It feels like it. I’m weak from hunger, there is no aftermath of a storm and all is different. Which way do I go, back? Or continue forward?” He walked out of the water and sat against a tree, pondering a few minutes. “There’s no use sitting around here, I must go some direction.” Glancing down to his waist, he exclaimed, “And I still have my sword! Thank Abidan. I might as well get something to eat before I begin.”
Ominous and foreboding, the sound of clashing steel disrupted his thoughts. It came from no more than a few hundred feet away, beyond a hill within the forest. Kaylis raced up the hill, then stood behind a cedar when he got to the top.
Down the slope, two creatures were fighting. One strangely beautiful, having the lower body of a large brown horse, and the upper torso, arms and head of a human with cream colored skin, brown eyes and wild auburn hair.
The other, hideous upon sight mainly because of the nasty, aggressive look on its face, had the lower body of a lion while the upper was Human, except for its psychotic feline eyes and snarling fangs dripping saliva. Its long black rugged hair flung back and forth as it moved side to side, swinging a sword against the horse creature.
The horse seemed very good however, deflecting every attack. Then it jumped aside as the lion took another thrust, caught it off guard and stabbed it through the lung, sending the beast to the ground, lifeless. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, the horse suddenly noticed Kaylis watching him. In a flash, he took off, racing up the hill.
Kaylis drew his sword as the creature came within five feet, glaring and circling his presence, his hooves making hard thumps against the ground. It seemed difficult to realize he was more than just a horse. “Stay away from me, whatever you are. I mean you no harm,” Kaylis spoke. Fear ringed in his voice and his hands shook.
“You are not with them.”
“With whom?”
“The Lamia beasts.”
“If you’re referring to the creature I just saw you kill, then no I am not. My business is my own.”
“What business brings you close to Elvish territory, Human?”
“Elvish territory? Oh no.” He sank to his knees and sighed. “I am lost.”
“You do not seek the Elves?”
Kaylis shook his head and peered up to meet his gaze. “My name is Kaylis, and I seek Loreladia.”
“I have heard of this ‘Loreladia’ but last I knew, the city was overtaken by Cullach years ago.”
“Yes, the original city, where I was born. The survivors migrated to another plain. I got separated.”
The horse creature stared at him curiously with its eyebrows raised.
“What are you?” Kaylis asked.
“I am a Centaur from Cestmir. My name, Favonius.”
“You are of the good, right?”
“A silly question to ask, boy,” he answered with a disgusted look. “For even if I was not, I could very well deceive you.”
“No, I think not. I felt the darkness of that, as you called it, ‘Lamia.’ And the feelings I get from you are different.”
“Feelings? So, you can sense Light and Dark?”
“…I guess I can. After all, the ability is in my blood, I’m Nashar—” Kaylis stopped himself, remembering how his race was hated by the majority of the Light. Memories of Centaurs were emerging. Long ago, his father told him about Centaurs, their self-righteousness and bitterness toward Nasharins, almost as bad as the Elves. He’d better be careful.
Favonius’ eyes lit up and he moved even closer. “What were you going to say boy?”
Kaylis stood and stepped back a little in fear of getting trampled. “Nothing. I need to get home. Is that the Azriel River down there?”
“No, it is a break-off creek from the Azriel, starting many miles back.
“Well then, where does this creek go?”
“It flows past a tower possessing great evil; Valnar’s Tower. The Lamia was one of his agents. There are many others too, already roaming these woods.”
“But did not you say this is Elvish territory?”
“Dark Elves. The Elves of Light I no longer know how to find. I have wandered through here because of one I am seeking, the signs among the stars tell of his arrival. Though, I never meant to come so close to the tower of evil, where the Eye watches us even now. We best go. I will help you get to the Azriel, so you may find your way. The one I seek draws near that direction anyhow.”
“Who do you seek?”
He didn’t answer, only motioned Kaylis with a hand to be quiet, and stared through the woodland, scanning his eyes around every tree. Suddenly, he screamed aloud, “Run!”
Out of the brush stormed a mass of the Lamia.
Favonius unhooked a bow off his belt—strapped around his upper torso, reached for an arrow set in a sheath, then shot one of the beasts between the eyes. Three more did he get before he hollered at Kaylis a second time, “Human, what are you waiting for? Run now!!”
Kaylis did, but then two more Lamia came from the other side. One leapt into the air, extending its claws nearly ripping off his face but was shot down by anothe
r piecing arrow.
Favonius drew his sword and killed the second with a quick thrust in the chest. However then, a Lamia, growling fiercely, jumped onto Favonius’ back, tearing away at his flesh with its claws. He moved side to side, crashing into trees attempting to disconnect the beast. When it didn’t work, he rolled onto his back and this time the Lamia slipped off. Once arisen, Favonius crushed its head with two hard stomps of his hoof, bits of brain and blood oozing over the grass. His wounds were bad, but at least Kaylis ran—until something forced him to stop abruptly, a large creature in the far distance with gleaming white eyes. It stood across the creek and commanded an entire herd of Lamia, at least two dozen, to attack. Though Kaylis wasn’t concerned about them, it was this freakish creature who frightened—angered him. As the Lamia crossed the river, he didn’t run and made no move only stood, glaring back at . . . him.
Before the first row of beasts could strike, Favonius took them down with a host of arrows, then he seemed to have no more. They rushed onto the land and Favonius did his best to keep them from ripping Kaylis apart. One, two, three did he kill with the sword. But there seemed to be just too many to defend against and he became overwhelmed. They bit his legs, scratched his face, knocked him onto his back and dove for his throat until a sudden golden light took their immediate attention. They stopped, gazed at Kaylis, whose eyes were furious with fire, and saw that the golden light, shining around him like a sun.
“Father, mother, brother! My—people…” Kaylis snarled, teeth grinding, fists clenching.
Favonius, battered and beaten, could feel the rage of past memories; the loss of loved ones flowing through Kaylis’ soul. And he across the lake had triggered it. And then, the real surprise came. “He’s Nasharin!” Favonius announced. “The boy is a Nasharin!” Sensing what was about to take place Favonius ran as fast he could.
The Lamia didn’t even seem to care to pursue but rather kept their interest on the strange golden figure.
Favonius jumped off an embankment plunging into the water, swimming under as deep he could, hoping his breath would last.
Kaylis unleashed a frenzy of a roar accompanied by a great golden explosion, disintegrating the Lamia, the trees and everything in a thousand feet radius.
