With our ranks more than doubled by the addition of the Black Hand’s warriors, it seemed that Tarvul might not dare confront our might. Derrik merely laughed when I expressed my concern, however, advising that I should be patient instead. My nerves were not tested for very long before the rattling of heavy chains could be heard, and the drawbridge across Tarvul’s moat lowered as his troops surged out to meet us.
Three columns of heavily armed Sentinels marched forth in neat, orderly rows, each of them with a Nér-vrogan at its head. Although somewhat taller, their cruel features resembled humans quite closely, yet there was no mistaking the mocking arrogance and superior leer on their faces. Even though I’d never seen him before, I immediately picked out Tarvul as he led the central column, his bright red hair serving as a beacon for my eyes.
While there were far more Sentinels than Derrik had anticipated, the Nér-vrogan’s conventional forces were still no match for our numbers. Breaking off into three separate units of our own to match our enemy’s formation, I breathed a sigh of relief as the Black Hand coordinated seamlessly under the direction of Haven’s officers, just as we’d planned.
Stay with me, Scar, but keep away from the Nér-vrogan, I cautioned him as we prepared for the battle. Just focus on any Sentinels that draw close.
‘You do remember that I can kill them too, right?’ His amused voice filtered into my head as he flexed his deadly spikes before locking them into place. ‘I wasn’t sent to you by accident, Ashíel.’
Actually, I’d completely forgotten about that. With everything I’d been dealing with, the small matter of how he’d helped me take out Derrik’s former commander had completely slipped my mind.
Perhaps you could have reminded me of that a little earlier?
‘You aren’t the only one who likes their surprises.’
Scar gave me one of his stupid smiles, and this was one time I truly appreciated his humor, even if it had been at my expense.
With a sharp downward motion of his taloned hand, Tarvul signaled the start of his assault against us, forcing me to focus on the Sentinels as they charged forward, seemingly heedless of their own safety. I knew their apparent fanaticism was an illusion, however. As Derrik had warned, their actions were motivated by the desire to preserve the lives of their families, not out of any misguided sense of devotion to their masters. Still, we’d have to get past them to deal with the Nér-vrogan; I only hoped to slay as few Sentinels as possible before it would become apparent to them that their liberation was at hand.
The battle was soon joined with a resounding crash as the metal of countless weapons smashed against armor. Although many blades were turned aside by both plate and shield, no small number of blows struck home as well. Cries of pain joined the chorus of ringing steel as the wounded and dying fell to the ground beneath our feet, and we made our way through the throng of bodies towards the closest of our Nér-vrogan foes.
I’d hoped to take out our enemies with a few well-placed shots from my bow, but as the two armies came together, there was simply no way to fire on them without hitting my own people. Forced to abandon my initial plan, I led my companions forward, pushing our way through the battlefield towards the closest of the Nér-vrogan commanders.
Despite our efforts to stay together, the surging tide of combat quickly separated me from my friends. Only Scar remained beside me when I finally reached the Nér-vrogan, his massive bulk and sharp collar of thick spikes leaving a broad path for me to follow. Covered in a dripping necklace of blood, Scar emerged ahead of me in the wide swath of open land the Nér-vrogan’s blade had carved out around him. With no one able to oppose him, the creature fought with a heedless abandon as he cut down all who ventured within his reach. Smiling at me as I stood before him, the Nér-vrogan seemed eager to add my body to the pile of corpses that lay at his feet.
Scar never gave him that chance.
He shot forward with a burst of speed, gliding effortlessly past the Nér-vrogan’s guard before slamming into his body. Trusting in his legendary immunity to save him, the creature’s eyes flew open as the sharp edges of Scar’s backward-curving spikes tore through his flesh with ease. Stunned by the inexplicable turn of events, the Nér-vrogan was too preoccupied with staring mutely at the gaping wound in his side and didn’t even notice my approach until my blade ripped through his heart.
The battlefield surrounding me turned deathly silent as his body fell to the ground. Having dispatched the first of our supposedly invincible enemies, most of the Sentinels who’d witnessed his defeat cast aside their weapons, signaling their surrender. Without their master to shield them, the handful of zealots who continued to fight on the Nér-vrogan’s behalf were quickly cut down by the overwhelming numbers that were no longer held at bay by their master’s might. Once I felt certain that at least this corner of the battlefield was firmly under our control, I began searching for my next target.
Although I was unable to locate Tarvul’s second Nér-vrogan lieutenant, the Lord himself instantly came into view. Standing nearly a head taller than those around him, the flaming red locks of his hair gave away my enemy’s location. Scar led the way once more, his deadly mane slicing through any who dared to stand in our way. We finally reached Tarvul just as he cut down a pair of orc warriors, and a look of recognition flashed in his eyes as the Nér-vrogan Lord stared down at me.
“You must be the bitch who took Vistaal from me.” Tarvul snapped his wrists sharply, flicking the blood from his daggers as he stalked forward. “That act of sacrilege will cost you dearly.”
Repeating the same tactic he’d used against the first Nér-vrogan, Scar launched himself at Tarvul, unfortunately without similar success. Pivoting barely to one side, the Nér-vrogan Lord sneered as Scar sailed past him harmlessly, tumbling to the dirt when he failed to hit his target. Seizing on the brief moment of opportunity while Scar regained his footing, Tarvul’s daggers flashed before my eyes as he began his attack.
The Nér-vrogan’s speed was incredible, and I was barely able to fend off his flurry of strikes, only managing to do so by repeatedly casting Parry. Leaving me no time to consider anything other than defending myself from his relentless assault, Tarvul pressed his advantage as I slowly retreated in the face of his fury. My desperation turned into rage when his blade carved a deep furrow into the flesh of my arm, and Tarvul’s attacks ground to a halt as a burst of light shot forth from my eyes.
Knowing that he’d recover quickly from the momentary shock, I took advantage of the brief reprieve to launch a counterattack. Thrown off by the sudden turn of events, Tarvul backed away as I swung my blades at him. Activating Flurry, my swords arced forward, slipping past Tarvul’s guard on their final strike. With nearly the full length of one of my Daughter’s Blades lodged in his throat, I twisted the hilt sideways while Tarvul dropped to his knees at my feet.
The satisfaction of my victory was short-lived, however, as a sudden lightheadedness overcame me. When Tarvul’s corpse slid off my blade and fell to the turf, his hands lost their grip on the daggers he’d stuck between my ribs. Gazing down at the blood pouring freely from my sides, the light slowly faded from my eyes as the darkness closed in. The last thing I felt before I died was cool earth slamming into my face when my body struck the ground.
24
“And I guess that’s how I wound up here,” I glanced at the woman who sat across from me, still uncertain how I should address her even after our lengthy discussion.
“Umm… Auntie Death?” I ventured, having no idea whether or not that was appropriate or even accurate.
“Even though Nentai has claimed the title of Dreya’s mother,” the barest hint of a smile turned up one corner of Lady Death’s mouth when she replied. “It would still be more accurate to think of me as your grandmother. But if it makes you feel comfortable, Auntie Death is fine for now.”
“So, what happens next?” While I knew that I was dead, I still feared what lay ahead of me beyond what appeared to be a waiting r
oom of sorts.
The fact that I was sitting in Lady Death’s parlor was jarring enough, but seeing her in the flesh—so to speak—was profoundly unsettling. Contrary to the many depictions I’d seen of her, she was no horror to look upon; in fact, the truth was quite the opposite. As she considered her answer for a brief moment, I couldn’t help but admire her profound beauty until her response drew my attention once more.
“That,” Lady Death reclined in her chair, folding her hands together in her lap as she responded. “Is not going to be an easy decision for me.”
“Will I be able to see Insleí again?” Having ruined my only chance for a reunion with Dreya, it was all I had to look forward to.
“What lies beyond this portal is not for you to know just yet,” she replied, gesturing towards the heavy double doors behind her back. “Only once you pass through them will you discover the answer to that question.”
Not too much help there, Auntie…
“Why am I here?” Glancing around at the series of intricately carved death scenes that adorned the chamber, I wasn’t quite sure I wanted an answer to that particular question, but my curiosity got the better of me.
“Do you have any idea what’s been going on since you vanished?” Lady Death replied, her tone making it quite clear that she knew well enough that I had no clue.
“It didn’t take very long for your mother to discover who was behind your disappearance,” she explained when I could only shrug in my ignorance. “As soon as she did, Dreya stormed into our refuge and threatened to kill Noxyl right there.”
Sounds about right…
“Uthalan managed to stay her hand, barely—but the lines of battle were drawn that day,” Lady Death let out a soft sigh as she recalled what had obviously been a highly charged encounter, shifting almost imperceptibly in her seat before continuing.
“Although many interpreted Noxyl’s actions as an affront to us all, others were more understanding of her motivations,” Lady Death’s tone left me no indication which side she’d chosen to align herself with. “Your mother’s rise to prominence has caused a great deal of harm to many of my siblings.”
It wasn’t a title she’d ever claimed, but Dreya had become the de facto Goddess of Arrika. Nearly everyone worshipped her in some manner, often abandoning the rest of the Pantheon in favor of the Goddess who walked among them. Even though the Gods each held their own intrinsic power, they gained no small boost from those who devoted themselves to their particular domains. Losing so many of their adherents in such a relatively short span of time had likely been perceived as a humiliating blow by many of the Pantheon, an obvious source of resentment, to say the least.
“Dreya has visited me daily ever since you were lost; sometimes even more frequently than that,” there wasn’t a trace of resentment in Lady Death’s voice at those intrusions, only a hint of sympathy for the obviously distraught state that must have driven my mother to such a painful course of action.
“She made me promise to tell her if you ever showed up in my domain, and that is a vow I will not break,” despite Lady Death’s resolve, I could tell that doing so was no easy thing for her. “The moment I inform Dreya of your death, she will seek vengeance against Noxyl for setting you on the path of your destruction, sparking a civil war among the Pantheon.”
“Were you a mere mortal, there would have been nothing I could’ve done to prevent your passage beyond this room,” Lady Death’s thin smile showed itself again. “But you are your mother’s daughter, and that allowed me to halt you here before your soul wandered too far.”
“So, you’re sending me back?” I suddenly regretted losing the opportunity to see Insleí again.
“I have no choice,” her mixed feelings at that were readily apparent as she paused to take a sip of wine. “To do anything else would bring an end to the Pantheon.”
“This will never happen again,” Lady Death’s tone turned decidedly sharp as she lectured me. “You may be immune to aging and other forms of natural death, but you are not a true immortal.”
That was news to me…
“As your power grows over the many years to come, fewer things will be able to pose a real threat to you, but you will never be completely safe,” the note of admonishment in her voice increased noticeably. “I will not spare you a second time.”
“I understand, Lady Death,” I felt compelled to address her more formally.
She seemed to appreciate the gravity I’d given her words, only offering a slight nod of acknowledgment in return before concluding our conversation.
“If there is nothing else, I will send you back now,” she spoke, leaving no doubt that she saw no need to prolong the discussion.
“Actually, there is one thing,” I ventured.
“What is it?” Lady Death’s sense of… exasperation became apparent.
“Insleí gave me my name, but she had no idea what it meant,” as I spoke, the slight widening of her eyes betrayed a distinct sense of unease. “She only said that it came to her in a dream, but she was certain it was a gift from you.”
“Have you ever told anyone this?” She half-rose from her chair, and there was a certain menace in her movements that I hadn’t noticed before.
“N-no,” I couldn’t help but stutter slightly. “Insleí made me swear to keep it secret, even from Dreya.”
“Insleí was my champion,” she relaxed, settling back again when she replied. “I brought her here many times over the years, and she sat in that very chair during our talks.”
“When she was pregnant with you, I offered her a gift, promising her anything I could provide; all she had to do was ask,” Lady Death’s smile as she spoke was more wistful than pleasant as she recalled that conversation.
“I thought she’d want some armor, perhaps; a suit to match the blades I’d given her,” her head shook slightly from side to side as she gazed almost blankly across the room. “But your mother asked me for a name instead.”
“Yet it was no ordinary name she wanted,” her eyes bored into me, piercing my soul with their intensity. “Insleí dared to ask for my name, the one I’d abandoned in favor of my domain.”
Oh, shit…
“I tried to deny her request, of course, but Insleí wasn’t one to be so easily dissuaded.”
Nope, that she was not…
“In the end, I gave in to her request, though I made sure she didn’t remember where she’d gotten it from,” Lady Death seemed oddly satisfied, as if the decision hadn’t been quite so difficult for her as she’d led me to believe. “No one else knows my true name. I was barely able to recall it myself, so I saw no real harm in giving it to you.”
“I am honored to share it with you,” I paused, wondering if I should dare say what my heart told me to before I went ahead anyway.
“Ashíel.”
“Veroiá named me that,” her downcast eyes made me suddenly realize how badly I’d fucked up. “When I thought she was lost, it only served to remind me of her death, so I never claimed it. But much has changed since then, in no small part due to Dreya’s actions. I don’t know if I will ever have reason to call you here again, but if I do, perhaps you may use it once more.”
“I would like that, very much,” my sigh of relief echoed loudly throughout the chamber.
“You won’t remember anything that transpired here once I return you to the world below,” she cautioned as the image of the room wavered before my eyes. “It will only come back to you if… when I bring you here again.”
25
When my eyes fluttered open, I found myself staring not at the dirt, but up at the bright blue sky instead. While I lay there, trying to blink away my confusion, I felt a series of rough lumps pressing into my back. I had no idea what I was lying on, but it certainly wasn’t the same cold ground I’d fallen upon only a moment before. As I slowly propped myself up, a pair of swords—my swords—fell off my chest, clattering to the ground at my feet. It was only then that I realized that I’d b
een resting on a pile of wood; or, more precisely, a pyre of wood.
I was still trying to clear the cobwebs from my mind when a soft nudge brushed against me, and I reached out to stroke Scar’s broad shoulders as his head came to rest on my lap. My hand came away coated in thick tufts of his coarse fur, but I had no time to figure out what was wrong with him or why my companions had tried to burn me alive before a piercing scream tore through the air around me.
Tracking the source of the keening wail led me to find Kyrah, fallen on her knees with tears streaming down her face as she stared at me in bewilderment. Although both Agna and Derrik stood nearby, neither offered her any assistance, only gazing at me with the same unsettling look of discomfort. All around them, the survivors of the battle milled about in deathly silence, but I only had eyes for one figure amongst the entire throng.
“Momma!”
I hadn’t called her that in… decades, yet the familiar word slipped past my lips the moment I saw Dreya standing there. Rushing towards her, I threw myself into my mother’s arms and held on to her for all I was worth.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried openly against her shoulder, caring nothing for the gathered crowd as I apologized to her profusely. “I love you so much. Please forgive me, Momma.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she clung to me in return, comforting me with her soft voice as I felt her tears falling on me. “I have you back; that’s all that matters now.”
“I didn’t understand,” I wiped at my eyes, dragging a ragged sleeve across my face as I tried to regain my composure. “I hated you for taunting me, but that was never the truth.”
Second Skin: Wayward: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 7) Page 24
