Breen continued backing away and with each passing step, she could tell Slyantom was becoming more confident and relaxed.
Slyantom stopped. “Well this is your last chance. Do you want to come with me or die along with your friends?”
Breen realized that her friends were far enough away so they wouldn’t get hit with the contents of the flask and then stopped. “Only if you let them go.”
Sun did not know what Breen had in mind, but there was no way he was going to allow Slyantom to live, so he somehow found the strength to stand. He could feel blood flowing freely down his leg and gripped his stomach, trying to stem it. “I’d rather die than see that happen.” He bravely said.
Slyantom glanced at him over his shoulder and said. “Regardless of her decision, you will.”
The distraction was enough for Breen to throw the flask of dissolving at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Slyantom saw something coming in his direction and moved to the right, but not far enough to evade it entirely, and was hit in his left shoulder instead of being hit fully in the chest. The liquid rapidly ate through his clothes, fur, and flesh causing him to wail in pain and drop his sword. Seeing his opportunity, Sun took three steps and leapt off of his front leg, but his weakened state hampered his aim and instead of kicking him in the head, he managed to hit him with a glancing blow to his shoulder.
The impact sent them both to the ground in separate directions, with Sun holding his stomach in obvious pain and Slyantom reaching frantically for his sword. Everything slowed for Breen, until the fox held his sword and began to rise. She moved past him and grabbed his other sword and pointed it at his face. The fox could tell that her threat was more of a deterrent than anything else. He glanced at the fighter dressed as old man who was kneeling on one leg and poised to make one final attack, and the other human was awake and getting to his feet.
He quickly assessed his own strength; his left arm was useless, and his right was limited due to the dagger still embedded in his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he could even parry another attack if the girl decided to swing. He decided that he wanted to live to fight another day and backed away to the window, keeping his sword in front of him so that no one had any bright ideas of attacking. When he reached the window, he said. “Next time we meet I will kill you.” He climbed out and jumped down.
Jacko stumbled over and saw him running away, while Breen checked Sun's wound.
“You're bleeding pretty badly, so we need to get you to the healers.” She said.
“Should I go after him?” Jacko asked.
“No.” Sun answered.
“But he’s wounded.”
“We’ll get him another time.”
They helped Sun to his feet and left.
Chapter 30: Celthric Part 2 (a Blade’s Quest)
With a sense of pride and accomplishment for misleading the knights, the Presence rode on through the light snowfall and ever growing darkness. They were weak-minded and easily fooled. Now with their assistance, It was sure to reach Celthric by morning.
In the early morning hours, a voice whispered for It to change direction and go northwest through the forest. It listened with eagerness, guiding the horse around trees and through undergrowth for several miles until the forest parted and opened up in a circular shape. Bodies, from a battle long ago, littered the ground. Most of the broken skeletons were still wearing tattered armor and clutching various weapons of war in their bony hands. The Presence knew this was the place Celthric had described, so It called out for the entity.
“WHERE ARE YOU, CELTHRIC?” The Presence shouted.
“Come to the center,” a voice responded seconds later, taking the Presence by surprise.
The Presence nudged the horse forward. It was amazed at the number of bodies that fought in this battle and wondered which side had won on that day. It was lost in thought when the horse suddenly reared up, bucked around, threw It from the saddle, and ran off in the opposite direction.
The Presence landed hard on the ground, crushing many bones under Its weight. It got up, brushed off many bone fragments, and removed the ones sticking out of Its host’s arms and legs. Gingerly, It moved toward the center, avoiding sharp bones and weapons along the way. Halfway there, It saw a lone warrior hunched over with a large spear sticking straight through his body. The Presence smiled, knowing Its journey was coming to an end.
When It was only a few feet away from the warrior, It stopped abruptly to study him in his final moments. The armor, once a proud display of workmanship and design, was nothing more than a rusty piece of tarnished metal that looked like it could crumble at any second. Arrows and bolts protruded throughout the hardened plate, and dents from heavy war hammers were visible. The Presence’s gaze fell upon the rusty, two-handed sword held firmly in his gauntleted hands and buried several inches into the earth. “Could that be Celthric?” the Presence thought.
An answer ensued, “Yes. Take hold of the sword and all will be revealed.”
Cautiously, the entity walked closer until the weapon was within reach and all It had to do was unclench the skeletal fingers and take it. It was about to do so when It heard horses behind him.
Turning around, It was surprised to see the guards from Solace, Chief Weis, and the men It befriended the night before.
“How did they find me so fast?” the Presence thought.
“Hurry. You don’t have much time. If they reach you, you will die and all will be lost,” the voice warned.
Chief Weis shouted from his horse to give up.
“GRAB IT,” the voice said.
The Presence wheeled about, unfolded the dead warrior’s metal digits, and took hold of the hilt. In a blinding flash of light, the Presence was suddenly whisked deep inside the recesses of his host’s mind, where he stood in a dark meadow, along with the old man and Norice.
“It’s time for you to leave this host and be on your way. I will save him,” Celthric said politely to the Presence.
“You said that we would rule together.”
“You’re a fool and a pawn. I only needed you because of what you did. I was merely afraid you would get him killed, otherwise I would’ve banished you a long time ago.”
“You have tricked him as well, so don’t be noble.”
“I ask you again to release your hold.”
The entity laughed. “That’s the thing, Celthric. When I touched the sword, I discovered just how powerful the weapon is and your true nature.”
“Really. And what do you think I am?”
“An entity living in this metal shell.”
The old man grinned. “And how did you come to that determination?”
“I have abilities of my own and powers that you underestimated. So, I’m going to give you the same choice you gave me. Leave on your own accord or be destroyed.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Celthric smirked.
“You don’t have any power over me, especially within his mind.”
“Oh, don’t I?” Celthric paused, letting his words take effect. “Since you refuse to leave, you will now be subject to my horror.”
“You can…”
The meadow suddenly transformed into a place surrounded by cold steel walls. The Presence’s smile faded as It looked around, realizing that there was no escape, and maybe It made a grave error. Meanwhile, Norice realized the area had changed, became frightened and retreated to the far corner, cowering.
Celthric took on a disturbing look, and the Presence knew Its fate was all but sealed.
“I’ve reconsidered. You can have him, let me go,” the Presence pleaded.
“To tell you the truth,” the old man shook his head, smiling, “I was never going to allow you to leave.”
Celthric suddenly morphed into a giant humanoid creature, standing nearly ten feet tall, with long arms ending with razor-sharp talons, and four inch fangs dripping with an unknown substance from his mouth. The Presence instantly became terrified and moved away until
It bumped against one of the walls. Celthric laughed hideously. The Presence tried to escape Norice’s mind, but Its actions were in vain.
“You almost cost me my host. Do you know how many centuries I’ve waited for someone to answer my call? He and I will rule, and you will cease to exist. Goodbye fool,” Celthric boomed.
“Please let me go?”
“The time for you to leave should have been before you ever met me. Now you will exist no more,” Celthric said, walking closer.
Celthric raised his talons and struck the entity repeatedly. Each blow ripped through Its shadowy form until the Presence dissolved away into nothingness. Satisfied when it was over, Celthric morphed back into the old man, and the walls gave way to the meadow.
“It felt good to kill again,” Celthric thought and walked over to Norice, who was still cowering with his head between his knees. “Norice?” Celthric said, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “You now have your destiny to fulfill.”
“Why did you destroy him?”
“If I hadn’t, then he would have destroyed you, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. You’re far too important.”
“Are you going to destroy me as well when you’re finished?”
“I destroyed the creature because it tried to take possession of your body. If it wasn’t for me, he would’ve succeeded and your family would have been left all alone to face the demon.”
Norice stood up. “You still didn’t answer my question. Are you going to destroy me after you’re finished?”
Celthric shook his head. “No. I need you, and you need me.”
“You’re no better than that other creature.”
Celthric smiled. “Unlike that entity, I will give you a choice. You can either allow me to flow through your body and take control, or deny my request and deal with the men that are here to murder you. We both know how this will end if you refuse me.”
“If I’m so important to you, then why don’t you force your will on me?”
“I cannot even though I’ve been waiting for a very long time. Choose swiftly, because you don’t have much time.”
Celthric was clever; while Norice was given two options, there was no way he was going to allow him to pick anything other than what was right for him. He just wanted his host to think he had a choice.
“If I do this, what will happen to me?”
Celthric smiled reassuringly. “Nothing, I will only control your limbs, and you will get to watch me destroy your enemies with my sword.”
“And after they’re dead?”
“We will travel to a place not too far from here and deal with your nightmares until they’re all destroyed. You will have peace again and so will your family.”
“And then?”
“I will also know peace, and we will separate.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Once I do an act of unselfishness, I can leave this prison and rejoin my family in the afterlife.”
“How did you become trapped?”
“It’s a very long story and we don’t have time. Are you ready?”
Norice nodded.
When they arrived, they saw the criminal standing as still as a statue. It was hard to tell what he was doing, because Norice was staring at the ground, holding a rusty two-handed sword. Weis knew there was no way in hell Norice was going to escape him this time. He was coming with them dead or alive, that he was sure of.
They dismounted and gathered close to the captain.
“Dead or alive,” Weis instructed.
“We will give him a chance to surrender. There’s a lot at stake, and my brother and I have questions for him as well,” Hrist countered.
“Fine, but he’s not escaping, so you better keep that in mind.” Weis’ tone told everyone present just how frustrated he was.
Timol and Granit loaded their crossbows; Hrist notched an arrow; Weis unsheathed his short sword with his left hand, and held his shield in his right. Tranter held his single-handed crossbow in his left and a dagger in his right; and Prol grasped his mighty two-handed ax with both hands. When they were ready, they advanced.
****
Norice’s eyes snapped open, and he was standing on a battlefield. It took him several minutes to realize where he was and to take notice of the rusty sword in his hands. It felt strange because the last thing he remembered was being in the town, and now he was standing on a battlefield.
He saw men approaching from the south. He recognized Chief Weis and some of the others, but not the men in armor. Lost in thought, he didn’t realize his left hand moved on its own and slid down the rusty edge of the weapon, cutting his palm deep enough to draw blood. He winced, looked downward, and watched his arm move up and down the blade, smearing blood all over the weapon. Like water washing away dirt, the rust began to disappear, and the sword began pulsing and vibrating as if it had a life of its own. In the next instant, the memories from creatures, both human and non-human that ever wielded the weapon, surged through Norice’s mind. So vast they were that he was driven down to his knees, clutching his head in obvious pain.
His psyche was on the brink of being crushed when Celthric used his superior intellect to ease his mind, and then controlled the flow of thoughts being processed. After the experience ended, Norice knew everything and everyone that used the sword and more importantly, the truth about Celthric. He wasn’t an entity, a demon, or even a ghost. He was nothing more than an evil, intelligent sword with the ability to read minds and manipulate others.
The metal alloy wrapped around Celthric, also had a purpose, and that was to kill. How the two became one, he didn't know. Norice felt an enticement to be one with the weapon and felt power like none he’d ever experienced before. He also knew that he could be something greater and become the stuff of legend.
“Norice,” Celthric whispered in his mind, “you and I can rule the world. Let me take control of your body until you are ready. I will train you to be an incredible fighter like your predecessors. Do you want this?”
“Yes.” Norice eagerly said.
“From this day forth, you will be known as Widowmaker.”
“Widowmaker. I like that,” Norice whispered.
“Let’s kill those men who are here to kill you.”
The Widowmaker stood erect and studied the intricate carvings on the sword while he waited for Weis and the others.
****
Chief Weis and the others were less than fifty feet away from Norice when they saw him drop to his knees, clutching his head.
“What is going on with him?” Prol asked.
“Careful, it could be a trick,” Tranter responded.
“He’s clever, so don’t take any unnecessary chances,” Weis warned.
They walked cautiously as a unit; Granit was to the far left, followed by Tranter, Weis, Prol, Hrist, and Timol. Hrist kept the bowstring slacked, while Tranter, Granit, and Timol held their crossbows trained on Norice with their fingers off the triggers. By the time they reached Norice, he was back on his feet, staring at the sword.
“Norice, drop your weapon and come quietly. We don’t want this to end poorly for you,” Weis said.
Norice didn’t respond and continued staring at the mystical blade as the rust finally dissolved, exposing an alloy that was as shiny as freshly polished steel. The hunting party neared him and began to fan outward.
“Norice, I’ll ask you again. Drop your weapon and come quietly, you have nowhere left to go.”
The Widowmaker slowly turned his head toward them. “The man you seek is dead.”
“Norice, you need help, and I promise to do everything I can.”
“His voice sounds different, don’t you think?” Prol whispered to Hrist.
“You’re right. He does sound different.”
“If you’re not Norice, then who are you?” Tranter amusingly asked.
“Me? I’m the Widowmaker.”
“Well, whoever you think you are, you’re still coming wi
th us,” Weis said.
The Widowmaker raised the sword into a high guard, and the blade sparkled in the morning light.
“Trust in me and allow me to flow through your limbs,” Celthric whispered reassuringly through Norice’s mind. The farmer gave his will over to Celthric.
“I’ll disarm him.” Prol announced to the others and stepped forward, hefting his ax in front of his body. “Last chance, drop the weapon,” he said to Norice.
Norice didn’t reply and waited for him with a disturbing look etched across his face. Prol was a very experienced fighter and knew exactly how he was going to disarm the man. In fact, he knew it should only take him three moves at most to accomplish this feat.
When Prol was within striking distance, he swung his weapon toward the right side of Norice’s head. The attack was only meant for him to block the weapon, which Norice did. As soon as the weapons clashed, Prol released his bottom hand from the weapon, stepped closer, and wrapped his left arm around Norice’s arms, trapping them underneath.
Prol was in the process of punching him in the jaw with his free hand when Norice pushed his arms outward and created enough separation to move his left arm upward, and wrap it around Prol’s right arm.
Prol punched Norice twice in the head with his free hand, but despite the steel gauntlet, it had no effect on his opponent. Norice squeezed Prol’s trapped arm against his body and crushed both his arm and the steel armor as if it were made of tin. Prol’s screams were interrupted when the Widowmaker wound the mystical blade around his head and cleanly chopped off Prol’s head. Norice felt a rush of adrenaline after the man died and then crouched down in the Pflug guard to await their next attack. For Celthric, it was far too easy. He merely read his opponent’s thoughts and knew exactly what he was going to do before he even moved.
A Demon's Quest the Beginning of the End the Trilogy Box Set Page 85
