Soul of the Prophet: The Elder of Edon Book I

by David Angelo

  It matched Fin’s flesh tone almost exactly.

  Fin waded through the muck and armor and death toward Tyrannous, who in turn unsheathed a giant claymore that was nearly as tall as Fin. He swung the weapon at anyone, friend or foe, who stood in his way, the blade shredding their armor and leaving them in pieces. When he was almost within striking distance, Tyrannous lifted the claymore over his head in a show of strength. Fin leaped to the side before it came down and felt the ground vibrate when it landed. Fin sprang to his feet, standing low, his claws at the ready. Tyrannous readied himself, pointing the claymore directly at him. Fin could now see Tyrannous’s eyes, black and cold, with no visible pupils or irises.

  Tyrannous whirled around and swung at Fin, who somersaulted out of the way. Fin sprinted forward, his claws aiming for Tyrannous’s midsection, but the general was too fast. He spun to face Fin and blocked, their respective weapons connecting with a sharp crash. Tyrannous slid his sword up against Fin’s claw, sending sparks flying, and tried to bring it down again. But Fin held his ground, blocking it with both of his claws crossed in front of him. More sparks flew, along with small bits of bronze shards, showering Fin with burning debris. But he didn’t let it bother him. He just pushed up and threw the claymore off himself. They stood for a moment, staring each other down, Tyrannous twirling his sword with elegance and grace. The thing must have been over a hundred pounds, but Tyrannous held it like a toy. He paused, holding the claymore in an ox guard, the lids around his dark eyes narrowing. Fin did the same, baring his teeth and bending low, his tail straight up, his body in a pouncing position.

  “You think I fear you, Prophet?” Tyrannous growled, his voice muffled by his helmet. “I’ve heard many a fellow general talk of you, but such creatures are mere children compared to the likes of me. From the moment I read of your exploits, I dreamed of the day when I could cleave the meat from your bones.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Fin replied.

  They charged, connecting in a hail of sparks, and furiously clashed in a frantic duel. Fin used every ounce of strength, every bit of his training, to deflect the blows and deliver ones of his own. He attacked, his claws leaving bronze indentations in Tyrannous’s claymore, but he still could not land a single hit. His chance would come soon enough. After sliding against his claw, Tyrannous whirled his sword over his head and brought the blade sideways, aiming to slice Fin in half. Fin ducked, feeling the wind part above him, and dove to Tyrannous’s right. He swung and dug his claw into Tyrannous’s waist, slashing through, leaving a bloody gash between his fauld and his leg cuisse. Tyrannous let out an angry roar, while dark-red blood trickled onto the ground.

  Fin smiled. This was going to be easier than he’d thought. He turned to face Tyrannous right as his opponent had begun to sprint toward him, favoring his injured leg. Fin did the same, catching the claymore’s blade with his two claws. They were face-to-face now, their eyes locked onto each other. Tyrannous breathed fast and heavy, strings of saliva spewing from the vents of his helmet. Fin curled up his lips, his teeth locked, his nostrils flaring with blasts of hot air. They stood there, neither one willing to give way, each locked in a stare down that could go on forever if they willed it.

  Before Fin had time to react, Tyrannous dropped his shoulder, catching Fin off guard, breaking the hold. Tyrannous’s claymore knocked Fin’s claws aside, and then his fist came up and caught Fin under the chin. Fin’s head snapped back, and his feet lifted off the ground. He landed hard on his back, and his head followed. Fin saw stars as his skull collided with the hard-packed dirt. The spike on the back of his head got wedged between the ground and his neck, its point digging in between his shoulder blades. His ears rang; his vision blurred. He tasted blood, felt it trickle out of his nose and down the back of his throat. The bottom of his chin stung from the deep gash left by Tyrannous’s obsidian-covered knuckles. Fin sat there, dazed, and watched as Tyrannous raised his sword, ready to run its blade clean through him.

  Through the ringing in his ears, Fin heard a bang and saw something strike the side of Tyrannous’s helmet. Bits of obsidian rained down upon Fin, and Tyrannous clutched the side of his head and lost his balance. He tried to use his claymore to keep himself up, but the force from the blow was too much for him to stand. He tripped and landed with a crash, his claymore still clutched between his fingers.

  Chok walked over to where Fin lay, his ax cannon still smoking. He offered his hand, which Fin took gratefully, and helped him up. Fin felt dizzy; his head hurt, but the ringing had lightened some. He looked at Tyrannous, who was on the ground, just as dazed as Fin was now.

  “I owe you one,” Fin said, shaking Chok’s hand.

  “Nonsense,” Chok replied with a smile. “You took a hell of a hit there. Least I could do was make sure he didn’t do more.”

  “Right,” Fin said. He spat up a mouthful of blood and wiped his lips on his arm. He was bleeding from a cut on his bottom lip, where his teeth had sunk when the punch landed.

  Chok looked over at Tyrannous. “What do we do about him?”

  Fin scanned the scene. The action had wound down where they were, the enemy troops having dispersed to other parts of the fort. Fin guessed that they had fled the scene once Tyrannous arrived, lest they get in his way like the few poor bastards from earlier. The resistance fighters cautiously approached Tyrannous, expecting him at any moment to spring back to life and start attacking.

  Chinaw and Rocklier were among those who observed Tyrannous with trepidation. They slowly converged on Tyrannous, Rocklier on his left, Chinaw above his head. From horseback, Rocklier looked down at Tyrannous and pondered.

  “You think anyone can lift that sword of his?” Rocklier asked.

  “I might,” Chok hollered back. “You thinkin’ about choppin’ his head off?”

  No sooner had Chok spoken than Tyrannous let out a roar and lifted his claymore up and over to his left, rolling onto his side, right where Rocklier stood.

  The blade came down.

  “Rocklier…” Fin screamed. He knew he was dead. He had to be. But when the claymore hit the ground and the dust settled, Rocklier was still seated on his horse.

  A headless horse.

  The blade had cut through the horse’s flesh and bone so quickly and cleanly that the horse was still on its four legs by the time the head hit the ground. Rocklier sat in the saddle, stunned, horrified, and dripping with blood. Before he even had time to process what was happening, the horse toppled over to its left, pinning him beneath it.

  Everyone moved back. Chinaw nearly tripped over himself fleeing to the edge of the crowd. Tyrannous planted his sword and pulled himself up, dazed but not dead. He steadied himself, and then, with his spare hand, he started to remove his helmet. He yanked off a piece that had cracked when it was hit by Chok’s round, then started with the back. The helmet seemed to be constructed in two pieces, since the back came off before he could attend to the front.

  The face mask fell away.

  Tyrannous’s face could only be described as mutilated. Thick, gray scar tissue caked his head, nose, and lips. Layers of it had been built up over the years. The original skin was gone, buried beneath a rough, jagged shell as thick as stone. The only part of his face that wasn’t covered in calluses was his eyes; they sat in the center of two dark pits on each side of his head. Tyrannous shook his head, and out sprouted a mane of bushy black hair. It hung in locks along his ears and down his shoulders. There was no indication of any trauma on the side of his head, as though being shot by a high-caliber round were just a minor setback.

  Tyrannous smiled, revealing a mouth of white teeth that had been filed and sharpened to points.

  “As you can see, boy, I’m more than just a bringer of death. I am death, and you’re coming with me.”

  Tyrannous lunged at Fin and Chok. They both darted out of the way, missing him by inches. Fin readied himself; this was going to be a long one, he thought. He spotted Scarlet at the edge of the square, stru
ggling to keep her horse under control. When she finally did, he got her attention and gestured toward Rocklier’s downed horse. She nodded and sprang into action, followed close behind by Chok and Chinaw.

  Fin turned back just in time to see Tyrannous bringing his sword down on where he stood. He jumped out of the way and felt the ground shake with its impact. Tyrannous lunged forward, his fist aiming right at Fin’s head. Fin moved and parried with his free claw, then moved in and aimed for a gap in the general’s breastplate. He plunged his claw through the plates of armor, struck Tyrannous’s skin, and pushed with all his weight, until his claw went all the way through. Tyrannous growled as warm blood squirted out of the wound and caught Fin right in the eye. Blinded, Fin couldn’t see Tyrannous’s hand swinging back, not until he felt the slap of his metal glove on the side of his face.

  Fin was knocked down, his face throbbing and numb. He felt and tasted sticky blood as it trickled into his mouth once again, but he wasn’t sure to whom it belonged. Fin staggered to his feet and mopped his eyes. When he saw clearly again, he could see his claw protruding from Tyrannous’s side. Tyrannous ripped the claw out and chucked it aside, not even flinching when serrated edges tore through him.

  Fin held up his remaining claw in front of him, the prongs covering his upper body. He moved to the side; Tyrannous moved in the opposite direction. The two circled each other like a pair of vultures. From his right Fin could hear Scarlet and the gang pulling Rocklier from beneath his horse. He glanced and saw Chok and Chinaw dragging him to safety. Rocklier was alive but in a state of visible shock at what had transpired. But Scarlet was nowhere to be seen.

  Fin turned back toward Tyrannous, whose sword was held steady in front of him. His legs were covered in blood, and he appeared slightly off balance, but he was far from finished.

  “Don’t worry, Prophet,” Tyrannous said between breaths. “I’ll take care of your friends too. I’ve yet to forget about them, just like I’ve yet to—”

  Tyrannous was interrupted by a sudden jolt from behind. He stumbled forward and almost fell on his face, but he maintained his balance. He spun around to face whoever was responsible, and Fin could see a tomahawk sticking out of his back.

  There was a loud whistle, followed by a high-pitched war cry and the beat of thundering hooves. Fin felt the ground shake and moved out of the way right before a stampede of Faranchilldon riders descended on the square. They came from every direction and circled Tyrannous, firing arrows and muskets at him as they went. Before long, there were so many Faranchilldons in formation that Fin could hardly see Tyrannous on the other side.

  “Don’t let up!” someone called. Fin turned to see Tec-Nan riding down a side street. He pulled up on his horse’s reins, bringing it to an abrupt halt at the edge of the circle.

  Fin approached. “It looks like we owe you thanks.”

  “Nonsense,” Tec-Nan added. “I should’ve sworn my tribe’s support from day one. We have just as much of a stake in this as you.”

  Fin looked over at the circle of Faranchilldons. “What are they doing?” Fin asked.

  “A classic Faranchilldon hunting tactic,” Tec-Nan said proudly. “We use it to bring down particularly stubborn prey, like boar or an unusually tough buck. I don’t doubt your buddy in there will be any different.”

  But Tyrannous let out another roar and charged. He sent a few Faranchilldons flying, and the circle broke formation. Tyrannous lashed at the Faranchilldons on the ground. He cut some in half as they tried to escape and stomped on those who couldn’t get up in time. When Tyrannous spotted Fin, he froze and locked eyes. He was covered head to toe with arrows; it didn’t seem to faze him.

  Fin turned to Tec-Nan. His jaw hung open, and his eyes were wide, completely frozen in a state of fear and disbelief.

  Fin heard Tyrannous charging toward them. “Run!” he said to Tec-Nan and turned to face his attacker. He caught him just in time to see the claymore coming at him in a sideways strike. He had no time to move; he crouched, held up his claw, and braced himself for the blow.

  The first thing Fin heard was the sound of his claw shattering with a loud, metallic crash that stung his ears and sprayed him with shards of metal. He felt his feet leave the ground, his body sailing sideways. He felt the ground meet him, knock the wind out of him. He rolled several times before coming to a stop on his back. Fin could only see the sky, gray with approaching rain clouds.

  He saw Tyrannous come into view, standing over him like a hawk staring down at a piece of dead meat. He saw Tyrannous bring his claymore up, the blade pointing down. He felt drops of blood fall from the sword onto his face. He closed his eyes and said one last prayer, asking Blizzard to look over Scarlet and his child. Then he waited.

  But the blade never came down. Instead, he heard a bang and a cry of pain. He opened his eyes and saw a harpoon sticking out of the middle of Tyrannous’s torso. He dropped his claymore, the blade hitting the ground behind him, and clutched the harpoon. He turned; Fin saw that the harpoon had entered his back and skewered him clean through. Fin craned his neck to see who the shooter was and saw Scarlet holding a still-smoking harpoon gun.

  Tyrannous staggered toward her, his steps becoming labored with every move. When he could walk no longer, he fell to his knees, toppled, and landed face-first in the dirt. Tyrannous took one final breath and moved no longer.

  Scarlet tossed the harpoon aside, dashed over to Fin, and helped him up to his feet. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I am now,” Fin replied. He looked over to where Tyrannous’s body lay. A pool of blood was encircling him, springing forth from the holes in his chest and back.

  Fin turned to face Scarlet. He was dazed, his body throbbed, and his skin was covered from head to toe with blood. But he was alive.

  “I owe you one,” Fin said.

  “No,” Scarlet said. “We’re even now.”

  Fin thought back to that night in the bar, a night that seemed so long ago, yet not even a year earlier. He smiled and nodded. They were, indeed, even.

  Scarlet hugged him, and Fin wrapped his arms around her. They held each other as rain began to fall and washed away the blood. The fort was unusually still and quiet, like the whole world had come to a pause to allow them this moment. Fin could feel the eyes of his teammates looking on as he and Scarlet celebrated their victory, and their love.

  35

  TYRANNOUS’S HEAD WAS MOUNTED on a pike in front of Titan’s gate. The last of his men were rounded up and shackled inside the jailhouse he’d once used to hold prisoners of war. The vaults that contained the grain he had tried so desperately to protect were pried open, ready to be distributed across the countryside. And finally, the bodies of those who served under him were stripped of their armor and buried in a mass grave outside the fort’s walls.

  Those who died serving the resistance were handled more respectfully. They were laid to rest deep within the woods near the fort. Tec-Nan performed a traditional Faranchilldon funeral ritual over the burial ground, ensuring that their spirits would rest and no longer feel pain. Even the strip of Faranchie skin that had hung from Tyrannous’s helmet was given a proper burial. None of the original members of the resistance were among the dead, and all were accounted for once the battle was over.

  Night fell, and those who were not assigned to the graveyard shift were allowed to get some rest. Chok was one of them, but even after everything he had been through that day, he still struggled to fall asleep. When his nightcap didn’t work, he found himself strolling through the streets of the fort, admiring the battle scars inflicted on the buildings. Chok eventually found the subject of his restlessness when he rounded a corner and saw Kyu leaning up against the side of a brick structure. She was sleeping. Chok felt his heart skip a beat, not wanting to disturb her, despite his mental toils. But as luck would have it, Kyu wasn’t entirely asleep, and Chok’s presence caused her to wake with a start.

  “Chok?” Kyu panted. “Is that you?”

  “
Oh, yeah,” he said awkwardly. “Sorry I scared you.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Kyu replied. “I just sat down here for a second, and the next thing I knew, I was dreaming about the battle. I should just head to bed before I get a kink in my neck.”

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Chok replied. “The beds here are hard as a rock, and the sheets feel like burlap. It’s probably to keep the soldiers from gettin’ too comfy in the case of an attack.”

  “Oh,” Kyu said through a yawn. “I guess that explains why Tyrannous was so cranky.”

  “Actually, his quarters were top of the line,” Chok said. “He had a big bed, cotton sheets, and his own private bath.”

  “That must’ve been for his acid baths,” Kyu said. “Anyway, who’s sleeping in there tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” Chok said. “I thought it was offered to Fin and Scarlet, but I think they turned it down.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Kyu replied. “You think that means that Tyrannous’s bed is open for grabs?”

  “Beats me,” Chok said. He took a seat next to Kyu and winced.

  “You all right?” Kyu asked.

  “My back is killin’ me,” Chok said. “I think I pulled something when I lifted the horse off Rocklier.”

  “How is he doing?” Kyu asked.

  “He fractured his ankle,” Chok said. “They have him in a wooden boot, and he’ll probably have to step back from active combat for a while. But he’s alive, which is more than I can say for a lot of our guys.”