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The Coming Of The Light (Guardian Series)

Page 22

by JW Baccaro


  In a mere second, Talvenya’s body took on another change, shining a bright orange, similar in a way to a Nasharin. Every bodily feature illuminated with color, like a beautiful coal after a long heated fire, enriched with energy. She caught the tree in her hands and just as easily—tossed it back.

  Ingor swung a fast punch and shattered it to pieces.

  The glow disappeared from Talvenya, but fear seemed ever growing in Ormehthone and in turn, his Guardian. How did she increase such magnificent power, equal to my Soul Guardian where she can handle such massive weight of a tree? Ormehthone thought. “Ingor, I commanded you to kill that woman, do it now!!”

  Thriving on a frenzy of both fear and anger, converted from his master, Ingor lunged at Talvenya attempting to tear her to pieces, limb from limb like Ormehthone originally commanded.

  When it reached for an arm Talvenya stooped low and struck its knee with a hard kick, the stone crackling like a frozen lake.

  The Guardian toppled over, though managed to rise rather swiftly, balancing itself on its other leg. Clenching a fist, focusing on the target, it took a swing bearing enough strength to explode her head like a melon, except she caught the fist in both her hands, turned sharply and pulled, ripping his arm off. Then she kicked the monstrosity in the chest, cracking the metal and it fell upon its back. Quickly, she placed a boot over its chest to keep the thing in place, and with her left foot she stomped onto its already damaged leg, twisting, grinding and breaking the limb off, then did the same to the other leg, and finally its last arm.

  The Guardian existed now as only a head and torso, looking completely ridiculous.

  And there she stood, boot over Ingor, crudely smiling in victory. Hair blowing wild in the wind, her opponent beneath her feet, she felt like her old self once again—a dominatrix in control.

  "No?" Ormehthone shouted. "No! No! No! It can't be!"

  “Just as your tribe died by mind hand,” she sneered, “So shall your creation.” Talvenya raised her foot then stomped onto its helm, or head, or whatever it truly was and a bright green light shot out, scattering in all directions. Afterward, nothing except a mound of dust remained—and a standing triumphant Goddess.

  “Do you know how long that took to make?” Ormehthone asked bitterly between his teeth.

  “All for nothing,” she scoffed and began walking toward him. With each passing step her powers grew, setting every tree around on fire. Her hair burned wild, eyes shining red, and the orange glow returned upon her body.

  Ormehthone himself could feel the heat; it seemed to be an outward appearance of her inner rage, magnified dramatically. The Lord of the Samaeltho drew a sword but in seconds the steel and handle turned red like it’d been sitting in fire for too long. He dropped it then noticed his armor and clothes were beginning to scorch and before he could tear them off they disintegrated, so that he stood naked. Frightened the ‘mighty’ Dark Elf cowered against a tree.

  Talvenya continued to approach, having her eyes ever upon him.

  He did not want to look at her in fear of burning up, but his head would not budge. He could feel his skin blistering, his temperature rising. And something else, something—too difficult to explain, a feeling this woman gave off, a terrible, terrible feeling, like death knocking at the mind, horror suffocating the lungs; dread overwhelming the heart, and ultimate despair engulfing the soul. Was it a type of spell cast by this newborn Goddess? Ormehthone did not know, neither did he want to think about it. Trembling as though his body would collapse to pieces, he fell to his knees. “Please, please spare me Talvenya,” he begged. “PLEASE!”

  Talvenya never heard him beg or show such fear, ever! Surely something magnificent has happened indeed to give her such power. She felt excited.

  Submissively curled on the ground a force brought him up and stationed the Dark Elf against the tree.

  She gazed at him, smiling delightfully. “Long ago you took my soul, stole my pride, RUINED MY LIFE!” she screamed with a voice like thunder, nearly shattering his ears. “Now here you stand, Lord of the Samaeltho, naked, weak; humiliated! How does it feel?”

  “I never touched you!” he denied while spilling tears. “I never did anything except protect. What you called 'evil' I merely did to strengthen your spirit. Please, you have to believe me, my daughter!”

  She stepped back, decreased the effect of her presence, easing up on his soul.

  “Just look at what you’ve become, look at your power. You are a true sorceress, a true Goddess, a true beauty, and I would gladly worship you ‘till death. You know you are the only one who’s ever been able to bring me into submission.”

  Flattered by his words, especially the fact he seemed willing to give himself completely over to her as though she were a true Deity—nonetheless Talvenya knew better.

  Ormehthone’s soul remained blacker than Abaddon’s—if there could be such a thing and he would take the very first opportunity to strike her down, without hesitation. The Samaeltho never forgive and love the feeling of vengeance, that is the code—his code. Ormehthone’s words were brought about by desperation to live.

  Even the empty tears he shed did not deceive her. She existed as smarter than this—if his words were true, so what? According to Talvenya, the crimes he committed, having commanded each male to brutally rape her, while delightfully watching remained unforgivable! She stepped closer, glaring into his glossy eyes…frightened like a cornered animal. “Before I decide your fate, tell me why Tanarokai is attacking Ashhaven?”

  Without hesitation he spoke, “The Light Elves destroyed Valnar’s Tower, along with the Eye, which leaves the King to suspect they will be invading Asgoth.”

  “So, he is foolishly sending his army east? How does he suspect to defend Volborg, let alone defeat the most lethal force of Elves in existence?”

  “By word of messengers, he is commanding all Asgothians forces throughout the northeast to come and begin destruction of every forest, every landscape until the Light Elves have nowhere to hide or take cover and must meet him head to head. That way Ashhaven shall be greatly outnumbered. They will face the full onslaught of Asgoth, even though they fight with—with—”

  “With what?”

  “Nasharins.”

  “Nasharins?!”

  “Yes, at least three or four wielding great powers of fire and lightning, perhaps more, so I have been informed. That is why the Dark King is set on unleashing everything Asgoth has, like a storm upon the unexpected.”

  A Nasharin wielding ‘fire’ could it be— Darshun is still alive? It must!

  “Talvenya, please spare me. We can go after Tanarokai if you like, kill him for sending me to kill you. I much would rather be your puppet—slave if you command. We would be great together. I beg you.”

  “I want to give you something Ormehthone, my father.”

  “Yes?” A splinter of hope returned in his voice, especially since she called him father.

  “It is something I have kept for far too long.” A black dome surrounded them and her gleam omitted rays of violet, casting the light into his eyes. “Taste, smell, feel everything I did, when you ripped out my soul!”

  And so—the horror began, he experienced all the emotion, all the pain and turmoil, every dark deed Ormehthone committed against Talvenya that horrid night, and it struck like a hard rain. His body being raped, in the most inhumane of ways, especially for males. It was as if all his forgotten people were here at this moment, robbing him of innocence—yes, Ormehthone's innocence, just as they did to her when she was innocent. For the moment she made him feel as if there were no stain of sin upon his soul, as though he were a member of the Light, feeling happiness like he’d never experienced, or ever could experience, let alone understand, belonging to the Dark all his life. That joy of being pure, being humble, being a child uncontaminated by the world's darkness—all to be torn from his soul. He collapsed to the ground, bearing the signs of battery, being struck a hundred times by a hundred entities of ru
thless evil inflicting pain, over taking his body, touching, grabbing, torturing in the most perverse of ways. Fear smothered his being and a never-ending nightmare of disparity ruled his entire entity, and he shouted—screamed as Talvenya had never heard anyone scream, except herself so long ago.

  Groveling at her feet, touching her calves, he begged for mercy, but found none until every last coin was paid back. He gazed up to her, eyes swollen and teary. "What kind of a monster are you?"

  She lifted him up and leaned him against a tree, casting a glare sharper than any sword. "The monster you made of me!" Deciding this to be enough, Talvenya ‘turned on’ her orange glow and set a palm on his brow, causing his blood to boil like a kettle of blazing water. It melted his flesh and organs until he became nothing but a skeleton, which piled at her feet, smoldering and a lake of bubbling hot blood oozing over the grass. He was dead. The heat even set the tree aflame and it went up in smoke.

  "An entire species of Elves brought down by me," she cooed, placing a foot onto his skull and crushing it to pieces, grinding the bits into the dirt with her sole. "You were correct Ormehthone, the strong do survive, where the weak perish."

  The tree collapsed from the blaze falling behind her, wind blowing up her hair; she took no notice, felt no fear only stood gazing at her hands and body while truly amazed. “The power—I love the power. It’s like nothing I have ever dreamed. Ha, lady of light, whether you were real or a product of the mind, you caused good to come about after all. I have 'released the Goddess,' now I will get my revenge against Tanarokai, against Abaddon, but first and foremost, I want Darshun! I cannot wait to see his face when he witnesses my being.” She laughed sadistically. “Revenge shall be sweet indeed. First, I best play the fool with Tanarokai and allow him to take me to Darshun, it will save time and energy searching for the fool myself. Then, the King will die next. I will savor the fantasies, before I make them realities. Yes, consider yourselves dead. Oh, it feels so good to be back!” She turned around to step over the fallen tree, and as if the flames themselves were frightened, or simply under her will, they moved aside; over the newly born Goddess stepped and the flames fell back in place.

  When Talvenya approached Castle Volborg she could hear soldiers marching and feel the vibration under her feet of the trembling ground, shaking the very leaves of the trees. A smell like human flesh burning scented the air. It wasn’t heavy, as though the flames were presently devouring the victims. Rather, a wafting scent just lingering throughout the air, drifting in the wind. She thought it strange. Quickening her pace, she finally exited the woodlands and gazed upon Asgoth’s army.

  Ormehthone told the truth after all. It appeared that almost every creature able to wield a sword was on the move. Draconians, Cullach, Dark Elves, a small number of Cave Trolls and the King himself, riding upon a chariot, holding up the rear. Making her way to him felt delightful, especially the look on his face when he saw her, a look of bewilderment, even fear.

  Stopping his chariot he got out, clothed in battle armor, the Soul Crusher sheathed away.

  Talvenya respectfully bowed then arose immediately, catching his gaze. She smiled a most devious grin. “Marching to war without me?”

  Tanarokai look confused, to say the least.

  For there she stood, Talvenya, alive and well. No scratches or wounds, no depressed feelings or weakness in her voice; her hair looked different—white streaks running through dark raven, and those violet eyes—ever so powerful, confident, dominating. Something happened, something—drastic. She’d changed no doubt.

  “My Queen, rumor has it you were killed at the river, your body disposed.”

  She walked a bit closer, setting a hand on her hip, looking quite seductive. “Now how could a rumor like that start hmm? Surely, there are tongues around here needing to be cut out. As you witness, I stand alive and well.”

  Stepping closer, he stroked the Goddess' hair and grazed a hand down her cheek. “You have been through changes.”

  If he only knew. “Indeed my King. The woman you once knew, the dark Goddess of Asgoth, has been resurrected. This time no dreams or acts of foolish kindness—nothing shall distract my desires.

  Unable to resist her beauty, Tanarokai pulled ‘his’ Queen forward and kissed her. The kiss became long, deep; satisfying. “I am glad to breathe in your old nature,” he said. “I thought my Tal was gone forever.”

  'My Tal?' Yeah, right, as though I’m his pet. "Surely, you know better than that my King? No enemy or emotion can defeat me. This female is unconquerable, superior. I am 'Talvenya,' the Goddess of Death. And this time all foes shall fear my wrath." As if the moment could not have fallen better, a cricket came hopping through, landing onto the top blades of grass in front of her. Quickly, she placed the sole of her boot over it and crushed the poor fellow into the dirt, grinding its mashed body back and forth. "Mmmm," she purred. "I’d forgotten what that had felt like."

  "Purely delightful," he cheered, “Now that is the sorceress I remember!”

  Oh, I get better. Can't wait to show you. "Inform me where our army is going?"

  "We have one final battle before the Demon Lord's storm hits. Step into the chariot and I shall tell you."

  "All right, but first I need a change in attire. Something—a little more light on the body, instead of this dress."

  "I will take you back to the castle. It shan't take long. We are not even a half mile away."

  Turning to face the city, she noticed smoke rising from the Arena, and again caught another scent of burning flesh. “What is that smell?”

  Grinning, he answered, “Abaddon sent word to dispose of the slaves, since he will be calling us to Syngothra very soon. There was no more use for them. I had them brought into the Arena and unleashed a frenzy of dire beasts that tore them apart.”

  A knot filled her belly, and slightly did her anger rise a bit, making her wonder whose side she truly was on.

  “It was a joy to watch, my love. Especially those that tried climbing the walls to escape. Ha, a few almost managed to, but the archers took care of them. Sadly, some of them accepted their fate and welcomed death with open arms, having no fear in their hearts, and as usual, praying to the deities of the Light. Martyrs, such a bore to slay. Afterward, we set the Arena on fire, burning away both the carcasses and beasts. No need for any of them. It proved the last entertainment the Arena would see. Sorry, you missed it.”

  Her hands began to shake as she tried to tamp down her rage.

  For a moment, Tanarokai felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. The King looked to and fro, then noticed a somewhat crazed expression come over her face. “My Queen, are you all right?”

  “…Fine, Tanarokai, simply fine.” The trembling ceased. “Let us get going, I want new attire.”

  “Of course. This will be a battle to remember.”

  …Yes, it will, she thought, clenching a fist.

  After informing a few high-ranking soldiers of his plans, Tanarokai left for Volborg to meet his Queen's needs of battle attire. During the ride, he spoke about the Elves and Nasharins they were going after, something she already secretly knew; and playing the fool she sat still, allowing his speech, smiling, fantasizing about Darshun's death, along with Tanarokai's. The Dark King had no idea what terror lie in wait for him, after Darshun suffered her wrath of course.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MEETING WITH THE HIGH WIZARD

  After many days of travel, Darshun and the others were approaching the borders of Asgoth and as of yet, encountered no creatures of the Dark.

  Not surprisingly, Kaylis and Nayland bonded quite well, speaking much about the past before they were separated, even recalling the encounter with the Bonnsag, when Kaylis first unlocked the ability to Converse elements into pure energy. And Nayland, while still a bit bitter in attitude…a part of him anyway, seemed a little different by one reason only—he smiled.

  Minevara found them both charming and hung around wherever they dwelt.

&nbs
p; The group stopped due to Caelestias’ request. “Your escort is finished,” Caelestias spoke to Captain Strizar. “We must venture the rest of the way alone. Return to Ashhaven and tell my father what we have done.”

  “As you command, my lord,” Strizar answered.

  “Kaylis Winveil, it is better for you to return as well. You are not a fighter and Syngothra crawls with more than just Dark Elves and Bugbears.”

  "But I want to come. Please don't make me stay." He gazed over at his brother. "Nayland?"

  "I don’t think I have a say in this."

  "He may be more help than you realize," the Centaur Favonius offered.

  Mirabel stepped forward. "No, not at this time."

  "Well, I shall have you know, when we were battling—”

  Mirabel raised a hand to silence his speech, accompanied by a stern gaze. "I know what you saw, Favonius. But those powers are for another place, another time."

  None except Darshun understood what they meant. Darshun remembered Mirabel speaking of Kaylis’ hidden powers back in Loreladia, and had felt a glimpse of them too, the day Kaylis unleashed them. In truth, he wanted to bring Kaylis along, but believed his father knew best. For what use were his powers if Kaylis could not wield them?

  “What powers?” Kaylis asked.

  "Do not bother yourself with such questions," Mirabel answered. "Return to Ashhaven. Besides, my heart tells me you might be needed for something else."

  "…All right, Mirabel, though I don't grasp what you mean, you have always been right in the past. I won’t doubt you now, especially at the brink of our existence."

  “Farewell, old friend,” he said, giving Kaylis a hug, remembering doing just the same when Magnus divided the Loreladians long ago.”

  "Farewell. You too Favonius, and Darshun, and—my brother. Oh dear, I could spend over an hour saying my goodbyes. So many here."

  Just then, a shadow came from the sky, followed by a rushing wind.

  Looking up, they saw the red Dragon Uriel and he landed beside them, his legs shaking the ground. “Guardian, you come with it at once! Your father rides along, so will your dark haired friend and the Elf. My master speaks with you immediately.”

 

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