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Authors: J. R. Karlsson

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BOOK: El-Vador's Travels
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Judicael
smiled. 'I shall do as you ask, El-Vador. I likely won't kill as many
as you plan to, but I shall do my best to turn this burrow into a
mausoleum during my departure.'

On
that they parted, with clasped hands and wary smiles. Leaving
El-Vador alone once more with death on his mind.

LXXIV

I
tried my hardest to reach her, fuelled by something much greater than
concern for my own life. I didn't realise that regardless of whether
she lived or not, the damage had already been done.

M
ina
walked gracefully through the sea of faces, unperturbed by the
hideous visage multiplied in the hundreds before her. The scene was
perfect, the power must be transferred here. She only wished that she
could remember just how she was meant to accomplish it.

The
fear and uncertainty had multiplied within her since the bonding, she
had yet to crush down the last remnants of the stubborn merge of
personalities.

She
felt a familiar thrill running through her body, the call that
beckoned her onward and into the arms of this warrior hewed of living
stone. The Orcs snapped to attention in unison, as if sensing the
momentous portents of her final steps. They stood on either side of
her, a green sea parting with deliberation to reveal Salvarius stood
awaiting her.

She
thought briefly of what would become of the Orcs surrounding her, the
torments that they would be subjected to from across the ether in
order to become suitable vessels. They would form the spine of the
most powerful nation ever to walk the face of this land.

As
she grew closer she gazed in wonder upon the stone armour that
Salvarius somehow stood in. Intricate snake-like patterns seemed to
play and grow upon the breastplate as if seeking her. She shivered at
the thought of the rocky snakes crawling out and caressing her,
pulling her into him and sucking the necessary power from her.

Salvarius
to his credit paid them no heed, his steps were sure and his eyes
were bright, every bit the part of kingly ruler over all in
attendance. He stood upon high and surveyed his people with the
countenance of a kindly ruler rather than of a dictator, and with
every step Mina took toward him his confidence grew.

He
opened his hands. 'Now is the time in which great wrongs are righted.
Through this woman and her sacrifice of bonded power, we shall rent
the veil that lies between mortal ken and the ether beyond. All of
you, my most trusted of servants who have reinforced this burrow, you
all have shared with me a secret. From you shall spring forth a new
generation of the Brotherhood, one unfettered by the needs of mortal
flesh. One of pure power and force unimaginable, guided by my hand
alone.'

Mina
descended a short set of stone stairs and approached her master's
left side. She could not keep a smile from her face, but whether it
arose from pride in her master, or because she knew that all of them
would soon be on bended knee before her, she could not determine.

Salvarius
stared openly upon her beauty now, transfixed as if a mad man in
fervour. As she drew closer she felt the need bubbling up in her come
into contact with her master's own frenzied passion. The last few
steps were the most laborious, as she dragged herself within range of
his grasping hands and eager smile. Why it was such a struggle to do
so she could not tell.

'I
know not how to continue, Mina,' the voice said, sounding less
resonant and confident than she had ever heard it. 'I know this must
be done, but I am lost.'

Mina
reached out and touched the man, feeling the warmth of his cheek
exposed from all the trappings of the artefact. There was something
oddly vulnerable about his expression, as if for a moment the
Salvarius she had initially met had appeared behind the mask of this
blustering godhead sent to cast the Brotherhood back into the world.

'I
will try and uncover what it is we must do, my love. For if it were
love for each other that created the power then it surely would have
washed over us both by now.'

As
if the tender words ignited something within him, her master's eyes
flashed and a toothy smile licked across his face. 'I feel it within
me, Mina. The coils are unwinding and soon they will be ready to
strike.'

Ecstasy
in full possession of his expression, Salvarius lifted his face to
the heavens and laughed aloud. 'Behold your new master! Behold and
despair, those who would oppose me!'

The
stone he had encased himself in, as if heeding his words, twisted in
dizzying undulations that sickened Mina's sight. As he pressed closer
to her, the coils reached out and wrapped themselves about her form
with their heated bodies. The tips of their stony fangs plunged into
her skin, sinking deeper and deeper yet causing no blood to well
forth from the wounds.

'We
are one, my love.' Salvarius stared down at Mina, cradling her
shaking form in his embrace.

A
chill ran through Mina. She bowed her head, struggling to breathe. 'I
am glad, my master.'

Salvarius's
voice grew slightly distant. 'I am no master. I am simply a man of
duty, and this is my last.'

He
turned, extending his open hand toward the crowd as they gathered
expectantly. 'Our joining has begun. Now is the time for our eternal
rule to begin.'

As
he stared upon the crowd he noticed their frozen expressions painted
upon their faces, something was wrong.

Salvarius
snarled. 'Why do none of you bow before me?'

Bit
by bit, a darkness seemed to recede from the floor at the feet of the
Orcs, and they collapsed not in worship but death. Clattering to the
floor in a mass of weaponry and armour which had availed them not.

'Your
worshippers are with their ancestors, Salvarius. Soon you shall
follow them.'

The
Elf rose from the back of the crowd, drawing his sword. 'I've come to
take Aliana back, and artefact or not I shall kill you where you
stand.'

Anacletus
found himself in the darkness once more.

'You
escaped last time, a valiant effort on your part. Sadly the
expenditure of your power was enough to trigger the trap I had laid.'

'So
you admit now that you are not an arbiter between sides, determined
to restore parity?' Anacletus replied, testing his most obvious
assumptions and finding himself paralysed once again.

'The
deception served its purpose, allowing me time enough to perfect my
defences and encasement of you.'

'Except
that I've already broken free of the Brotherhood's defences once
before. What is to stop me from doing so again?'

'You
may feel free to test as you please, ultimately there is nothing you
can do to escape.'

He
cast tendrils of smoke out into the nothingness, and was rewarded
with neither smoke nor effect. Again he pushed against the paralysis
in the manner that had brought pain and eventual release before, this
still brought nothing but laughter from the voice observing him.

'Do
you see now, assassin? There is nothing that you can do to prevent
the Brotherhood from slaying those that sought to destroy them
utterly. From there we shall close the ether entirely, sealing you
here with your benefactors forever.'

He
knew then that there was no point in continuing this conversation,
nothing further to be gained and no hope of reasoning with the voice
that taunted him so. Instead he returned to his previous efforts,
focusing entirely upon a means of escape.

His
powers had somehow been nullified, that much was apparent. Perhaps in
this darkness they were naturally inhibited, he could not tell. He
quested out once more with smoke and found nothing, yet for reasons
beyond his understanding it was not the absence of feeling, but
rather a lack of apparent action. The power still coursed through
him, it simply was not there when he tried to direct it outward.
Unless...

'Very
clever,' Anacletus ventured, hoping to get the attention of the
voice.

'I
am glad you can appreciate the complexity of your own downfall,' the
voice replied, smug in its security.

'I
was not referring to that.' the assassin replied, sending the shadows
out to do his bidding.

A
startled cry from beyond gave him enough to work with, he sent a wall
of blackened smoke outward to smother the general direction of the
voice, and was met with a resistance.

'I
do not know what it is you hope to achieve,' his antagonist replied,
but the tone in the voice had already betrayed the truth.

Anacletus
cracked a smile, and rose from his prone position. 'We may be in the
ether, but I know a glamour when I see one.'

The
shadows choked out the voice and he felt the pain returning, the
pulsating throb in his head that threatened to disrupt everything he
endeavoured to achieve. He refused to let it, focusing entirely upon
ending his tormentor before he lost control.

He
greeted the whiteness eagerly, passing beyond this darkened plane and
to another entirely.

LXXV

Finality;
the soaring conclusion to the piece where the antagonist and his
miscreants are delivered surely and swiftly in a blaze of justice.
That is what all the old tales would have you believe, wrapped up in
their idle fantasies and self-perpetuation.

E
l-Vador
cleared his sword from his sheath and walked steadily down the
massive cave floor toward Salvarius and Aliana. All else was silence,
and he blinked repeatedly to fight off the dizziness of unleashing so
much power upon the unsuspecting former audience.

Salvarius
slowly disentangled himself from Aliana, with an unsuspecting
tenderness that almost came across as care. El-Vador came at him
directly, not wishing to give him any time to ready himself. He did
not feint or waver, he simply approached with a deadly grace. When
Salvarius lunged, hoping to spit him, El-Vador battered aside the
blade his master had made and struck. He caught Salvarius in the
side, striking ineffectually at the stone armour.

A
hissing noise came from the surface he struck, and a serpent snaked
forth and snapped at his blade. He recoiled, keeping his guard up and
wary of any further attacks from both his foe and this strange
armour.

'El-Vador!'

His
gaze met Aliana's for a heartbeat, then Salvarius was upon him,
swinging great blows that sent the Elf staggering back on the
defensive.

Salvarius
straightened, breathing heavily, then stepped forward once more to
engage his foe, his face an oddly conflicted mask. 'I don't want to
do this Elf.'

El-Vador
frowned, backing away from the man and keeping his guard up. 'Yet
still you attack me? Why?'

'I
have no choice, El-Vador of the mountains. I am sorry.'

'So
am I.'

They
circled each other cautiously, weapons occasionally sweeping out,
El-Vador's like the coiled tongue of a serpent, Salvarius's mace like
the crushing fist of a giant. Occasionally their weapons would touch,
but the Elf would not allow himself to be disarmed by the hefty
strikes that his foe metered out.

El-Vador
knew that he had to keep goading the man into striking at him, he
could hear the laboured breathing and eventually Salvarius would
over-extend himself. He kept pushing forward, poking low with his
blade in a goading fashion that had his foe continuously attempting
to bat the sword aside and get within his guard. It was a dangerous
strategy, one false slip and he was weaponless, and Salvarius may
weary of the attempts and simply strike at him in hope that his
superior armour would deflect any damaging cuts.

Salvarius's
frustration grew visibly. 'Damn you, Elf!' he howled, his voice
completely different from before. 'You have interfered in the plans
of the Brotherhood for the last time.'

The
man advanced with all the grace of a striking cobra, fainting to
strike at El-Vador's head and instead cutting low with the arc and
aiming for the legs. El-Vador retreated before him, his balance
wavering at this endless assault. Salvarius quickening his pace and
seized the advantage, lunging toward him with blows that would
shatter his skull upon impact.

El-Vador
threw up what little power he had left, diverting the lethal path of
the mace and stepping inside the man's guard. He clamped down on
Salvarius's wrist to prevent him swinging back, sending his head
crunching into the man's face.

Salvarius
reeled back and El-Vador knocked the mace clear from the man's hand,
planting a kick against Salvarius's breastplate that sent him clear
from any retribution.

'Curse
you, Elf!' Salvarius wailed, a clenched fist emanating a familiar
darkness. 'You will not defy the Brotherhood this time!'

The
fist arced outward

El-Vador's
sight exploded in pain.
Aliana stood amongst the desolated
ruins of her own mind. To her right lay a fiery river upon which she
could not gaze and a stony bridge that spanned it into nothingness.
She wasn't certain how she knew, but she couldn't get back out that
way, and was positive that something would try to stop her if she
made the attempt.

She
saw footprints in the dust near her feet, so she slowly followed them
with a growing trepidation. She peered through doorways, hoping to
see the night sky through a crack, or perhaps catch a hint of a
breeze from the sea. Something that moved and lived within this dark
place she found herself in, instead there was nothing.

A
panic rose in her then at being trapped here, and she broke out into
a loping run along into the darker spaces of this place. Within them
she caught the faintest flicker of light, but nothing more to suggest
her heading that direction when all impulses claimed otherwise.

The
room exploded with light. Aliana found herself in a forest of obscene
images that cackled at her in glee, tearing at her face with their
lashing words that she couldn't quite discern.

BOOK: El-Vador's Travels
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