"Alir," she called, and from above she heard him call a response. "Help me find a way up!" Another cry and a rustling of wings followed. Lyn took her bow and checked the tension; it seemed ready to go. Lyn had fashioned a harness to Argos' saddle where she slung the bow during travel, but truth be told she had been a little nervous about keeping it safe. "Well I guess that's one load off," she muttered, slinging the bow over her shoulder to free up her hands. The dark, supple wood held surprisingly good grip, and Lyn was impressed with it all over again. What a great treat Siege had given her; a bow and a horse! Two things she had always loved.
She realized belatedly that she was getting distracted again, so with a quick shake of her head to clear her thoughts she concentrated on finding a way to get herself a good view point. Alir flew overhead and landed on a branch just in front of her. He let a cry and flew to another branch, leading her onward. "Good work, Alir." Lyn said, and followed her companion to her destination.
The ruins had held up well; Lyn and Alir found a spot that Lyn was able to access and perch from. The wind was picking back up again, carrying the smoke and ash thankfully away from her. She pulled her bow and put an arrow to it, readying it in case of need.
Alir landed on her shoulder but she gently brushed him away. "No Alir," she said gently, "I need my arms free in case I've got to use this thing." Alir seemed to understand and chose a new perch on an exposed wooden beam while Lyn looked below into the open yard where Siege stood unmoving.
His hands sat atop the grip of his large blade, looking out into the night where darkness had fallen in earnest. The light from the large fire cast just enough visibility in the open area to see the shadows dance and leap about in the flickering luminescence, but still there was no sign of Umbra.
Lyn found herself beginning to doze despite the wind. She caught herself as her head dropped to her chest, waking back up as the swirling fog revealed an armored figure directly before Siege. She started and peered forward but it was difficult to make out details from where she knelt. Due to the direction of the wind she was also deprived of their words, but their body language told Lyn what she needed to know; the two approached one another as enemies.
The newcomer, who Lyn could only assume was Ren, drew a large sword that caught Lyn's breath the second she saw it. Even from further away, Lyn could see the majesty of the blade; the steel was a silvery blue that practically shone against the firelight. Its guard was silver and while Lyn could not make out the designs, it was clearly ornate. The edge glinted dangerously and the sword just seemed to emanate cold threat.
"So that's his father's sword," Lyn breathed to herself, gripping her bow tighter.
Like Siege, Ren appeared in steel armor, though it clearly lacked the craftsmanship of Siege's. Lyn scoffed to herself; it seemed simultaneously ridiculously clichéd and sadly poetic that the two sons should stand against each other, one each with a piece of their father before them. It was a sad clashing of a legacy and again Lyn had the feeling this was a scene directly out of the childhood stories. Perhaps the reality of the situation is what made it so sad. She could not help but wonder which would break first, the sword or the shield?
The two men did not speak long; it appeared there was little to be said between them. Siege lifted his great sword with an aggressive stance which Ren mimicked, and the two squared off. Lyn suddenly realized that both men would have been trained in the same style. Combined with the fact that they both had the counter piece of equipment to the other, the gravity of the fight struck her like a blow; ultimately this test would come down to who made the first mistake.
The two men began to circle each other like contesting predators, and Umbra's words echoed in the back of her mind, "Men revel in the hunt like beasts." She shivered at the accuracy of the statement and how relevant it had quickly become.
Sudden movement caught her eye, and with a blink the two men began the fight in earnest. The sound of their large colliding swords carried to Lyn's post, and she found her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. She was amazed by their movements; for being armored and carrying such large swords they moved surprisingly fast. She had never seen Zhiva fight, but she wondered if he was as fast as these two brothers. Even had Lyn not known they were related, she would have guessed they had studied under the same mentor because their motions matched as though it had been practiced for a performance. It was all the more impressive since she knew they were not aiming for entertainment but rather lethality.
Secretly, Lyn envied them their skill and ability to defend themselves so. While she was indeed accustomed to use of her bow and practiced it regularly, close quarters combat was something that had always unnerved her. But these two made it look so easy, Lyn thought.
After a particularly hard press from Siege, Ren did not share her sentiment; from her perch she could see that he was beginning to tire and have to work harder to keep up with Siege's onslaught. His movements became less pronounced, his strikes more retaliatory. He was slowly being put on the defensive, and Siege knew it. She watched as the great blonde warrior swung his sword with fervor and precision she could not have guessed at. While she mourned the necessity of such violence, she found the very skilled practice of it beautiful.
The fight ended quickly, but not how Lyn had expected; with a furious roar, Ren let out a visible aura of darkness that knocked Siege to the ground and rang in Lyn's ears. She closed her eyes tight against the howl and when she no longer heard it she opened her eyes to see Ren standing over Siege, his sword held high and ready to strike. As she looked on, Ren began to shift dizzily. His shadow fluctuated and rippled before it morphed itself into Ren's silhouette, standing beside him with glowing red eyes and form black as pitch.
She vaguely saw Ren was speaking, but the words rumbled and met her ears as though she was right next to his moving lips. "I can smell your despair, human. I will consume you as I have consumed your kin, and let me assure you, it will hurt."
The shade emitted a high-pitched cackle and reached out its hand. There was a sickening moment of hazy vision as Ren's physical hand and his live shadow both gripped Siege by the throat and lifted. With inhuman strength, Siege was lifted bodily from the ground and hung suspended in air like a child’s toy.
Lyn did not realize she was screaming until she had stood, nocked the arrow, and fired it. She watched through straining eyes as her projectile whistled through the air and struck true, sliding through the smoky silhouette and embedding itself into Ren's armor. Ren turned very slowly to look at the shaft protruding from his shoulder and followed its path to rest his eyes on Lyn, standing atop the ruins alone.
With purposeful movements, he let go of Siege, who slumped to the ground making choking sounds. Lyn's desperate fury turned quickly into cold fear, and she found herself taking a step back. Ren and his living shadow moved towards Lyn as though they had expected her; no rush, no charge. Somehow this unnerved Lyn even more, and she scrambled to nock another arrow. Once it sat appropriately on the bow she drew and fired but Ren saw the arrow coming, so he simply grinned and sidestepped with a strangely blurry motion as it whistled past. His red-eyed shadow mirrored every move he made, but Lyn was getting the impression that the shadow, rather than the man, was the one controlling the motions.
"I warned you," came the whisper to her ears as if from very close. "I warned you that you could not escape me. You should have joined me when you had the chance."
Though she assumed the voice belonged to Ren, it was somehow familiar; she could tell it was Umbra speaking to her. Her nightmares had indeed been horrifying experiences, but having Umbra stalk towards her in the waking world brought an intensely larger amount of terror to the young Druid.
Not wishing to be trapped in her lookout spot, Lyn quickly made her way down to the ground but once she had, there was a moment of panic as she realized she did not know where to go. From behind a crumbling stone wall, Ren and Umbra peered out to look at Lyn. She froze in place like a scared rabbit, eyes
wide and pulse pounding through her veins as the man and the shade stepped out from behind the wall, and the two blended together and separated in a dizzying display, almost as if they were a mirage.
Yet, it was not until Lyn saw Ren's eyes that she realized what Marcho had said was true; there was no longer a human person in Ren. Dead eyes stared back at her, and in them she saw the darkness that was Umbra.
Umbra chuckled, watching Lyn look on with fear written plainly on her face. "I'll admit, I have not treated this body particularly well. After centuries of slumber I had forgotten exactly how fragile you humans can be. It's seen some good use, though."
It moved Ren's arms and neck as though stretching, the phantom behind moving like a puppet master and Ren's body mimicking the motions. "Though I would much prefer you as a host. That is why, you can imagine, it is incredibly frustrating that something is preventing me from making that happen. Most would have succumbed by now, and I admit I do not understand what is holding you so tightly. But it is no matter, I am growing fond of these muscular and able-bodied types; perhaps I will simply take the blonde one next, hmm? I can feel his stress already, and once I let him cut down this body he will no doubt be ready to break. That is when I will take him, and there is nothing you can do that will stop me."
Umbra spun around, arms outstretched. "Only one last step, Lyn World-Walker. Only one thing left to do." It looked at her with Ren's dead eyes and she felt gooseflesh run up her arms. "Tell me, where is the Voidwolf?"
"I don't know."
The shadow that was Umbra stepped to the fore and it reached out with its inky black hand. Its featureless face stared into her for a moment before it returned to Ren's body.
"Indeed. No matter, I will draw him out eventually. Or even better, I'll stay one step ahead and let the mongrel starve himself to death."
Lyn could not help herself, her curiosity overruled her fear and she asked, "What do you mean, 'starve himself'?"
Umbra looked at her sidelong, and a manic grin spread over its face. "What did I tell you? You know little of your precious Marcho. Or of demons at all. But I think it will take your warrior friend some time to recover himself yet, so I shall explain. Why not, after all? I can kill you whenever I please, and between you and me, it would be most pleasing indeed to kill you once I have your friend's body. In the meantime, let's find somewhere comfortable."
With seemingly no effort, the Ren/Umbra duo reached out and gripped her by the back of the neck, lifting her easily and carrying her back into the ruins proper and back within view of the fire. Umbra casually tossed her to the floor and stood between her and the light, masking its face in darkness against the bright flames.
"It is fairly simple, girl. Just as you would say 'druid' is a loose term for your kind, 'demon' is a loose term for mine. It is merely a world in your language that comes closest in proximity to an idea you can understand. In reality, we are not beasts and nightmares created in some hellish landscape, but rather denizens of the astral plane. This is where it becomes difficult for you mortals to comprehend. The astral plane is much more...fluid, shifting, and abstract than this place. Time passes in a different manner, even. In order to experience 'life', as you might understand it, my kind developed an ability to travel to different planes of existence. The rules of this travel were simple; one could only enter the world by invitation, and one must sustain oneself whilst there. Since there is no real standard for us demons, each of us takes different forms and requires differing sustenance."
Umbra put its hands behind its back and began pacing slowly to and fro, as though it were teaching a class. It seemed to absorb all the darkness surrounding it and appeared as if cloaked in dancing shadow.
"As I mentioned to you," it continued casually as if they were discussing the weather, "I am sustained by human suffering; by doubt and fear and hate. The deepest hidden parts of the human soul. I will admit to leaving entropy in my wake, but overall humanity best serves me alive."
Red eyes peeked from the human shadow and glinted merrily against the fire light. "However, the same cannot be said for your dear Voidwolf. You see, in our plane, he is known by a different name. Here, that name would be something like, the Hunter." Umbra laughed, clearly pleased.
"I...I don't understand," Lyn said hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know of what Umbra spoke.
"Let me clarify; your Marcho feeds on death. On the last breath of those that fall under his fang and claw. And he is good at it, very good. Even among our kind Marcho is feared, and now he is here in your world, constrained only by his contract. Once he kills me, there will be nothing holding him back; he will be free to ravage your world as he sees fit, consuming your entire race if he chose to do so. Who would stop him?"
Umbra paused and stopped its pacing to allow the knowledge to sink in. "I am the lesser of two evils, Lyn World-Walker. I am the devil you know. The world is ending one day at a time, regardless. Let me away from the Voidwolf, and I will preserve your race as long as possible. It is, after all, in my best interest.”
Lyn sat in silence. She felt as though she were being pressed beneath tons of steel, as though each breath in her lungs took all her strength to manage. Her mind raced, and she tried desperately to hold on to the thoughts as they flew by. Did she have reason to trust Marcho? Did she have any indication of honest intent? Had he only aided her to get to Umbra, and thence to free himself? Her time spent with him ran before her as she tried to find some excuse, some justification to prove Umbra wrong. To her great dismay, none presented themselves.
Shaking, she rose to her feet, head hung low. "You may be right," she said slowly, her voice quavering. "You have told me much more of yourself than Marcho has. He may indeed survive from the death of others. Your intents are clear, his are not."
She took a deep breath to steady herself, and slowly looked up to the demon. As she met its eyes, Umbra read righteous indignation and fury in her. It was taken aback; what was possibly fueling this human that kept her spirit in such fortitude? How could she rise again and again when so many had already fallen?
"But unfortunately for you, Umbra, I do not believe in the lesser of two evils. What I do believe in is the tenacity of human kind. I believe that no matter what happens, my people will continue to fight for our world in our capacity. And I believe in myself; that I will not fall prey to your machinations, and that even if you are right and Marcho turns on me, I will stand firm and do what must be done. I will make this world know my name, and there is nothing that can stop me. Not you, not Marcho, not even my own doubt and fear. So do your worst, Umbra, while you can. Because soon Marcho will make you feel the same fear you inflict upon others, and there will be no escape for you."
Ren's face twisted and contorted in exaggerated anger, and he raised his giant shining sword. Lyn looked up at him, feeling surprisingly calm. She did not close her eyes, did not blink, just stared into Umbra with defiance.
An enraged shout caught them both off guard and with a very loud clash, Siege barreled sideways into Ren, sending him flying off his feet. Siege cast a quick glance at Lyn, looking her up and down. Evidently satisfied with her physical well-being, he raised his sword and pursued Ren without a word.
The battle between the two brothers began anew, but this time Siege's face was red and veins stuck out on his neck. His onslaught was vicious and faster than ever, so fast that Lyn was worried he'd lose his grip on his weapon and it would fly away. The demon-touched Ren could not keep up with Skyehart's furious swordplay and was soon pressed to the ground.
Once again, an otherworldly cry was emitted from Ren's mouth, and the shadowed form of Umbra stepped out. Ren rose again in synch with the phantom, sword at the ready. Siege looked on disbelievingly, but to his credit did not stand long. He began his attack again, but this time Umbra was able to keep up. Despite this, she could see Umbra struggling and knew it was only a matter of time before he fell.
At that moment, Lyn remembered what Umbra had said about Siege cuttin
g him down, about taking him for itself once Ren had been destroyed. With a roar that held pain and fury, Siege suddenly knocked away his father's sword from Umbra's grasp, and the world seemed to slow. The moments stretched into an eternity, and Lyn watched as Siege raised his immense sword over his head, eyes filled with hatred and aimed directly at Ren. Lyn watched as Ren's haunted eyes flicked over to her, and a smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. She saw as Umbra separated itself completely from Ren, standing apart like a blackened ghost. She watched Ren begin to slump, watched Siege's sword start its downward arc. Firelight glinted off steel and golden hair as Lyn tried to cry out, knowing it was too late.
Movement caught her attention, and she looked at the fire as a huge ebon wolf launched itself over the blaze, long teeth bared and shining in the night. The formidable maw opened wide, and ripping claws were outstretched before it. Watching in shock, the cry died on Lyn's lips as Marcho collided with Umbra at the same time that Siege's sword met flesh. Crimson blood wet the blade, while just behind Ren's toppling body Marcho sank his great fangs into the shade's throat. And just like that, it was over.
--
Siege built a separate fire and Lyn gathered wood. Together they built a pyre for Ren and laid him to rest. Siege was silent, but there was relief written on his face. She could not imagine the feeling of having to kill one's sibling, yet the pain of watching him become a monster was surely worse. There were no remains of Umbra to dispose of; Marcho had destroyed it completely.
As they prepared to leave the ruins behind, Siege took his father's sword from where it lay in the snow. Marcho stayed far from it, claiming it was a very old weapon. The demon wolf explained that it was a blade from the previous world, as was the armor. They were forged like nothing had been forged since, and were very powerful. On the guard of the large sword, there was a dragon with a large jewel for an eye. After peering at it for a moment, Marcho deduced that the jewel is where Umbra had kept itself for the last few centuries while it slumbered, and that it was awakened by Ren's touch. Jewels, Marcho explained, were exceptional vessels for astral energy.
The Elder's Path Page 17
