Shadows of Home

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Shadows of Home Page 29

by James R. Vernon

"See how they flee?" Bran's voice boomed over the sounds of the villagers' panicked flight towards the mine. The changed man stomped into the middle of his Abominations. He might have been attempting to strut but the strange way his legs were now bent and enlarged made each step an awkward one. "So weak and pathetic. Those who survive this reckoning will thank me when I transform them into stronger versions of themselves like my children here."

  Bran swept a deformed arm to take in the five Abominations around Ean. His other hand held the strange stone sword. "You're just as bad as the people you hope to protect. All that magical power and yet you rely more on the strength of the slaves you summon out of the Abyss. You're pathetic."

  Ean spat in Bran's direction. "And you talk more than your father ever did. Why don't you just have your minions try and kill me instead of boring me to death with your words."

  Bran shrugged. "As you wish." He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Pin him to the ground."

  The five monsters rushed Ean before the words were out of Bran's mouth. Hands grabbed. Bone blades stabbed. Ean dodged and tried to swat away hands and edges that got close but he was already tired and sore from the injuries he had already received that had healed. The wound from Bran's blade still hadn't healed. Despite his best efforts, Ean was only able to hold them off for a few moments.

  The sharp pain of something piercing the back of Ean's leg brought him to his knees. Hands had hold of his arms before he could turn and yank out whatever had struck him. Fists pummeled his face. Something pierced his other leg from behind. Ean was pushed to the ground, his brain trying to keep up with each new attack. He tried to rise but was stomped back down. He felt more pain as both of his upper arms were stabbed and pinned to the ground. Panic rushed in as Ean found himself unable to move, the pain in his arms and legs overwhelming.

  "Not a single scream of pain..."

  Ean was able to turn his head enough to the side to glare up as Bran approached.

  "I will say this, Ean," Bran said as he lowered the tip of his sword in front of Ean's face. "You've come a long way from the boy who was bullied by the entire village. No whining. No tears. I guess you really have grown up. It's a shame it all ends here."

  Bran began to raise his stone sword. Time seemed to slow for Ean as he watched the blade rise. He struggled against the blades that pinned him to the ground. Despite his strength, all he managed to do was increase the pain the blades caused as they opened wounds up wider. Ean was helpless. It surprised him that as Bran's blade rose, fear of his impnding death hadn't set in. Only sadness as he felt both Azalea and Zin's fear for him rush through their bond.

  He had let them down.

  Without warning, the ground suddenly shook, throwing Bran off-balance and making him lower the blade.

  It started like the sound of distant thunder, the booms loud enough that even Bran and his Abominations paused. It slowly grew in volume and intensity, until it almost muted out the screams of the villagers and shook the ground just as much as the air.

  Esmerelda's Vithalos crashed around the corner of a home and charged straight towards them.

  Chapter 39

  The Vithalos crashed through the pack of Abominations and through Bran as easily as a person running through a field of flowers. The monsters pinning Ean were tossed in every direction. He was flung aside; pain flared in his legs as the bone blades were wrenched free. It only became worse as he struck the ground and tumbled a few more times. When he finally came to a stop, he was staring up at a dark, star-filled sky.

  Get up! his own voice shouted in his mind, but it was the urging of Zin and Azalea through their bond that gave it any strength.

  It was a struggle to even get to his knees. His power was healing the wounds in his legs, although it didn’t help the wound from Bran's sword, but the soreness it left added to all the other injuries that had healed already this night. The Abysmal energy coursing through his body was the only thing keeping him up at this point. Once he had accomplished getting into a kneeling position, he took a quick survey of the damage the Vithalos had done. It was becoming harder to see in the darkness with only a few torches at the edge of the village and the moonlight. Ean's eyes struggled, even enhanced by his power, to see his enemies.

  The five Abominations that had pinned him were rising. Some had taken more damage than others; one stumbled to rise on a broken leg, an arm hung limp at another's side, a third flopped about as its upper body moved but its lower body remained motionless. The other two were almost up again, but thankfully, their attention was on the Vithalos that was just now slowing to a walk a dozen or so yards past them. The metal golem began to turn; two sky-blue gems where the eyes should be gleamed in the darkness. Ean had to blink his eyes a few times to readjust and then he found the Abomination's leader.

  Bran was down on his hands and knees, his elongated limbs making him look like a stretched out grasshopper. His stone sword lay a dozen feet from him in a small patch of grass.

  Pain lanced in his legs as he pushed himself up and started limping in Bran's direction. Without the sword, Bran was less dangerous. Better to get to him before he got to it.

  Bran must have sensed him coming as his head swung around to snarl at Ean for the briefest moment before he started crawling towards the sword.

  Ean pushed his legs as hard as he could to get there first but he just didn't have the strength for a sprint. Bran would get there first. Focusing his Abysmal energy, Ean threw up a wall of energy in front of his former friend.

  Bran crashed headfirst into it with a satisfying thud and fell over on his side. Just as fast, though, he was back on his hands and knees, scrambling his hands against the wall. Ean only had a few more feet to go before he would reach the man--

  Without warning, Ean's vision went blurry and a bolt of pain in his left arm shook his entire body. He barely kept his feet as the energy sustaining him vanished for the briefest of moments before flooding back into him. To his dismay, the wall blocking Bran disappeared and he didn't have the focus to keep himself up and to create another shield between Bran and the weapon. All he could do was keep pushing himself and hope to get there first.

  Just as Bran's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword, Ean crashed into him.

  He had meant to deliver a kick to the man's stomach but he had pushed himself too hard and lost control of his own legs. Ean tumbled over top of Bran and struck the ground hard, adding more pain to his already battered body. At the very least, the pain kept him focused, and he started to rise only a few moments after hitting the ground. Unfortunately, Bran was quicker.

  An elongated arm swung out and backhanded Ean as he was partially to his feet. It felt like he had been struck by a log, the blow stretching from shoulder to hip as he toppled him backwards. The wind shot from Ean's lungs from the blow and again as his back hit the cold dirt. It took him a bit longer to recover, and by the time he was able to scramble to a sitting position, Bran was almost back on his feet.

  "I shouldn't have tried to take the coward's way out with you," Bran said, using his sword as leverage to push him the rest of the way up. "This is better. One on one. The gods must have known I would have regretted killing you the other way and stopped me."

  Ean tried to curse the man but only managed to get out a few wheezes of breath.

  "Time to die, Ean." Bran paused and gazed up. The red moon was just starting to rise in the north, its light starting mixing with the green. Bran let out a laugh. "Fitting."

  The man who had once been one of Ean's only two friends charged him. Bran swung a massive overhead chop that, despite being predictable, Ean only had enough strength left to barely step out of it's way. A follow-up shoulder from Bran made Ean stumble a few steps back.

  While Bran hefted his sword off the ground, Ean pushed off his back leg and sent a punch with as much force as he could muster towards Bran's chest.

  The other man was faster. Bran lashed out with a kick that caught him in the stomach, bending him o
ver and turning his legs to jelly. It was all Ean could do to keep himself from throwing up and falling over.

  Bran swung the weapon in a low arc. Ean knew as soon as it began that he was too close to dodge.

  Sparks flew as another sword, the metal gleaming in the green light of the moon, intercepted the blow.

  "You cannot win this battle," Shauya grunted before delivering a kick that sent Bran reeling backwards. "I will best this foe if it is a battle of blade against blade. You just keep those other monsters from interfering."

  Ean was stubborn but not stupid. As much as he wanted to be the one to take Bran down, there were much more important things to worry about than his own pride.

  "I'll watch your back," he replied.

  "And Paz and I will watch you as you watch her back," Esmerelda added, moving to his side. She carried a short sword of her own, her clothes splattered with blood.

  Shayua gave them both a nod before turning to face Bran.

  "I'll try to shield the Abominations from this battle," Ean said, "but I'll need you to stop any that get through."

  "Paz can handle it. You just keep my teacher safe."

  Ean didn't get the chance to reply as the two abominations that had been engaging the Vithalos suddenly stormed towards Shayua and Bran. He threw up a wall of energy to block them, the azure light a comforting sight as it stopped the monsters in their tracks. Before they could scramble around it, Paz stomped up and grabbed both of their heads from behind in four massive, metal fingers. Ean turned away as a sickening sound that reminded him of watermelons being smashed mixed with clangs of Bran and Shayua's weapons clashing.

  Ean could only glance over at the battle between Shayua and Bran for brief moments between holding the Abominations off and Paz killing or driving them off. Despite what Ean knew of Shayua’s skill, the two didn't seem to gain any advantage over the other. He just had to hope the crimson warrior could win out given enough time.

  On his end, holding off the other Abominations was getting more difficult. They seemed to come from every direction, charging out of the darkness, their grotesque forms flopping about as they ran on deformed legs. Each time, Ean threw up a shield, giving Esmerelda's Vithalos ample time to stomp over after them. But the Abominations were learning. At the Vithalos's approach, they would flee back into the darkness or behind the homes at the edge of the village. However Esmerelda was controlling the metal golem, she couldn't make it attack things she couldn't see. All they could do was keep their eyes open and wait for the monsters to attack again.

  Esmerelda might be able to continue on endlessly, but Ean was struggling.

  The wound in his arm throbbed and any sudden movement or jerk just tore it open again. If it wasn't for the energy of the Abyss somehow sustaining him, Ean would have bled out a long time ago. Even with the power keeping him alive, he was losing strength. His whole body felt heavy, the worst of which were his eye lids. A haze had settled over his vision that drew him towards sleep. The pain wasn't even helping to keep him focused anymore. He needed the battle to end, and soon.

  Two Abominations shot out of the darkness. Ean threw up a wall of energy and the creatures crashed into it as they had many times before. At the same time, the pain in his arm grew like a stoke fire until it spread to his entire body. It flared as it engulfed him completely and all the energy he held vanished.

  The pain and exhaustion that he had been fighting off all night rushed in. It filled every inch left empty by the departure of his power. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground. The only reason he stayed conscious was because of the pain.

  Which is how he was able to watch as his shield fell. He gritted his teeth as the Abominations rushed to their master's aid. He desperately tried to grasp his power as Esmerelda's Vithalos charged towards the monsters. The metal man got ahold of one but the second slipped by it. He felt despair as Shayua seemed unaware of the monsters’ approach.

  Then, there was a glimmer of hope.

  He felt it just before Azalea sprinted past him. That hope grew as almost right behind her, Jaan and the other Crux stormed past.

  Bran saw the approaching Crux and for the first time, Ean saw fear in the changed man's expression. He fainted a strike with his sword and then disengaged from Shayua, turned, and ran, letting out a horrible screech as he fled. Shayua began to give chase, but Bran's screech seemed to call all the Abominations to him at once. Instead of continuing her pursuit, the crimson warrior pulled a dagger from her belt. She took only a moment to aim, then released it with one smooth movement of her arm. The blade struck him in the arm as he ran with enough force that he dropped his sword. Giving one last howl, Bran didn't stop for the weapon and fled back into the village. Ean watched him until he disappeared around one of the homes.

  After that, all he could see was the Crux rip into the Abominations. Ean's allies charged their enemies without any weapons or fear. Six Crux faced off against a few dozen of Bran's monsters. Despite having overwhelming numbers, the Abominations could do little against the six Crux. The monsters’ bone blades scratched against the Crux's thick, bark-like skin but failed to do any damage. The Abominations, on the other hand, were just stretched skin and muscle over bone. As soon as a Crux got any of its four hands on one of the monsters, it literally tore it apart. The large, grassy area between the homes of Rottwealth and the mines grew red in the moonlight as the Abominations were killed.

  Ean watched the carnage for a few moments more before the stress and pain and exhaustion of the night's battle finally overwhelmed him. He slipped into unconsciousness, a content smile touching his face as one last thought crossed his mind.

  We won.

  Chapter 40

  "Get up." At the sound of Azalea's voice, Ean opened his eyes. He was in his bed in the mines, Azalea and Zin standing at his side. "No rest for the weary. That's something humans say, right?"

  "Yes." Zin's head barely poked over the side of the bed. "Although I never understood it."

  Ean sat up, ignoring his body's protests. "I feel like I could have used more sleep. Have I been out long?"

  Azalea shook her head. "No, just the rest of the night and some of the morning. It's not quite midday. We would have let you sleep longer, but Zin felt you needed to be up."

  Zin nodded in agreement.

  "The Crux have finished searching through the village for anymore of Bran's monsters, and they are returning. You need to greet them in the Heart. It is customary for the leader of a Crux tribe to provide the proper amount of praise after a successful battle to those involved."

  Ean swung his legs out of bed. Every muscle seemed to groan at the movement and the slash in his arm still burned. Someone had wrapped the injury in a simple cloth, a damp red stain marking where the wound had yet to heal. His clothes had been changed as well, his leather armor replaced with a simple brown shirt and pants. His feet felt cold as he placed them on the stone floor of his room, but it was a good sensation, like taking a dip in a cool stream on a hot day. It brought a little more focus to his senses as he tried to shake away the exhaustion that hung heavy on his eyes.

  "And they should be praised," Ean replied as he struggled to stand. Azalea moved to help him but he waved her off as politely as he could. "As should the two of you. I'd be dead, as would a great deal of the rest of the villagers of Rottwealth if you hadn't helped hold off those monsters, Azalea." He placed a hand on Azalea's shoulder, which she covered with her own hand. She gave it a supportive squeeze as he continued.

  "And if you hadn't gone to get the Crux, Zin."

  The imp smiled at the acknowledgment. "Well, what is the point of having all these creatures serve you if you don't get them to help out every now and then?"

  Images of what the Crux had done to “help” flashed through Ean's mind. "Sparring with Jaan did not prepare me for the Crux ferocity. It is a good thing they are on our side. Were any of them hurt?"

  "Only their pride," Zin replied. "The Crux would have preferred if the
ir leader had been conscious during such a decisive victory."

  "I'll make sure they know how proud of them I am. What about the people of Rottwealth? Do we know how many people were killed?"

  "The estimates--" Zin began, but Azalea cut him off.

  "Can wait until later. For now, we need to focus on the fact that we won. And you must get to the Heart to properly welcome the Crux back."

  Ean didn't like his question being blown off, but Azalea was right. The Crux deserved his immediate attention.

  "Let's go welcome our heroes, then."

  ***

  For once, Ean was happy to be seated atop his throne in the Heart. The rigidness of the stone seat and the chill that seeped through his clothes were the only things helping him stay awake. Since waking, he had refused to take in any Abysmal energy. While it had sustained him during the long fight the night before, its unreliability after receiving the wound from Bran's sword had made him realize how much he had depended on its added strength. During the long and painful walk from his room to the Heart, Ean decided to rely only on his own strength until his power became more stable.

  Azalea placed a comforting hand on his arm. A wave of support washed over him through their bond.

  "If you need me to hold you up, I can be discreet about it," she chided, all her usual sarcasm gone from her voice. "I'll slip my hand up the back of your shirt, keep you propped up like a puppet."

  "Thank you, but no. I'll be fine."

  "Remember," Zin chimed in from the other side of him. "Heap as much praise on the Crux as possible. Obviously, speak in their language, not in the human tongue. And don't pass out."

  "I'll do my best on all counts."

  "Good." Zin's tone did not sound confident.

  Azalea removed her arm and took a step back. "I hear them approaching."

  Ean sat up as straight as he could, resting his arms on the armrests and doing his best impression of how he thought a proper leader should sit. He held the position as the Crux entered.

 

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