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    Kavrik
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Deeping Lore - 10. Chapter 10 - The Chaosphere

Kian walked dead center with Ella Fravaugh and Henna while Dylan took point. “Ephram, you take left. Crispin, I want you on the right,” the Valion Alpha said.

Both soldiers unquestionably followed Dylan’s orders. Sir Heath Falna walked behind them, watching the mist for signs of the undead. Kian could hear the young knight’s thoughts which were so focused on the task at hand; he gripped the handle of his sword in white-knuckled fury. Each of the Valions had their holy swords drawn and ready; Kian saw that the long shiny blades glimmered with a faint blue light in the dark shadows thrown by the necropolis.

Kian started to walk forward to join Dylan when his partner turned to him and said, “Kian, I want you in the middle. We can’t protect you if you’re out front. No offense, but you’re abilities are not quite as useful here as ours.”

Kian nodded and looked at the knights with love and respect. They were sacred warriors and their faith would protect them here against the touch of the undead far better than his own. And all of them were concerned for his safety. They wanted to protect him, but to do so; he’d need to stay within their holy aura. He stopped to allow Ella Fravaugh to catch up with him. The ground underneath his toes felt squishy and he grimaced with distaste.

The fog rose up all around them and swallowed Dylan whole before it reached out with grasping tendrils to envelop his body. Kian felt the cool mist through cracks in his armor. He knew he still walked between them only because of the jingle their spurs made each time they took a step and from the motion of their bodies that showed on the inside of his glass visor. The ground underneath their feet became soggier and sucked at the soles of their boots and from a few paces ahead, he heard Dylan curse.

To his left and right, Kian saw eyes appear in the mist. They were smoldering red points that floated in a miasma of gray. The smell of rotting flesh filled his nostrils; discordant moans floated through the air, varying in cadence and pitch.

He continued forward and the mist let up some. He saw Dylan leaning against the stone foundation of one of the statues. He walked over to him and waited while the others caught up. Something had brushed Sir Avery’s thigh and left a frosty imprint on the armor. Kian could feel Dylan’s pain which was brief and sharp. Whatever had done this, could not bare the touch of Dylan’s holy aura for long and had either been destroyed by it, or fled back into the cover of mist.

In Kian’s visor, he saw there was a throng of bodies gathered about ten feet out from them, hundreds of undead that were keeping their distance because the light from the Valion swords hurt them and the holy aura given off by these pure, brave, and good men was a line that they couldn’t cross.

“We’re completely surrounded,” Kian said obviously a little worried. He stood next to his boyfriend, perhaps unconsciously seeking the warmth and security that Dylan gave him. “I know you can’t see them because of the mist, but they’re out there. Just beyond reach.”

“I know,” he stated. “Our auras are amplifying each other, keeping them out of range. Still, the strong ones can tolerate the aura for a short while.” He turned to face Ella Fravaugh and Henna. “How are you two holding up?”

Henna looked frightened. “The sooner we leave this place the better.”

“I agree,” Ella Fravaugh said. “In which direction did the Chaosphere lie that Kian spotted from the shoulder of the colossus?”

“I think it was a bit north of here,” Kian declared. “It’s rather hard to be sure because of the mist.”

“I-I’ll go check again,” Kian stated. “It’ll just be a moment.”

“No,” Dylan said. “It’s too dangerous now that the moon is out. I forbid it.”

Kian swallowed. “Alright. But I’m not afraid.”

“I know you’re not,” Dylan said. “I just don’t want you risking your head is all.” He reached over and softly massaged Kian’s neck with his fingers, reassuring him. “Let’s just stay together.”

“Something’s coming,” Heath said, slamming his visor down.

“How can you be sure?” Ella Fravaugh asked.

“I smell it.”

Kian wrinkled his nose, not sure exactly how the silver-haired young man could discern between scents in this awful place. Then, he heard something heavy moving toward them. Its footfalls were loud and moist; the crowd of ghouls and skeletons visible on his visor dodged from out of its way. Kian looked up and saw a thing that he guessed to be ten feet tall. It was humanoid, but with no face. Its body was pitch black, gaunt, and naked. As far as he could tell, it possessed no genitalia. It had two arms that ended in six-fingered hands tipped with sharp claws. It’s emaciated yet strongly muscled body seemed to be comprised entirely of black stone. This was a Nightshade, a powerful undead.

It paused at the edge of the holy circle and the mist vacated before it like clouds before the wind. For the first time, Kian could see the faint holy aura creating a fragile bubble around the small group. The towering Nightshade faced Heath and bent at the waist, extending its fingers along the glimmering protection, trying to pierce it. The silver-haired knight stood his ground, sword held tightly in his fist and fingers clenched in his gauntlet which also gave off a pale blue light. The Nightshade produced an orifice in the middle of its face as well as two holes for eyes and then screeched. It was a horrible, high-pitched noise that sounded like the screams of men set on fire.

Sparks lanced along the surface of the holy circle and smoke rose from the Nightshade’s appendages. Blisters formed on its unholy black skin, yet, what it smelled within the circle was too tempting. It raised a hand and a black beam of energy struck Heath in the chest and Kian thought he saw Heath’s soul emerge out of his back as a beautiful, glowing silver light. The black beam pulled on this soul like a child pulls on a rubber band and Heath resisted, forcing it to snap back into place and nearly collapsed to his knees. The black beam dissipated into nothingness and the Nightshade shrieked.

It plunged its hands through the holy aura and grabbed Heath about the waist. The knight swung about with his sword as the Nightshade lifted him from the ground. Crispin, Dylan, and Ephram rushed the thing and Kian flickered and appeared over it and plunged Bloodbane into the Nightshade’s skull; landing on the monster’s shoulders. This was a terrible mistake.

Kian’s feet touched that coal black skin and freezing current shot through his body starting from his toes. He cried out, dropped his weapon, and fell into the rotten earth. Undead swarmed him and he felt fingers rake aross his magical corobidian armor. In the next second, Dylan was there slicing, hewing, and hacking undead to pieces. He reached down and pulled Kian to his feet and pushed him back to where the others stood, fighting off the Nightshade. Kian grabbed Bloodbane and limped into the circle of protection surrounding the holy knights. His thigh and right arm burned where undead had clawed him and his feet were sore. Even through his armor, the bone chilling cold had bloodied his skin and burnt his flesh in places.

The Nightshade hurled Heath into the base of the stone statue and Kian heard the knight’s spine crack as bones shattered. His body went limp and a fountain of blood streamed out of his mouth. Kian ran over to him and pulled him into the safety of the circle while Ephram cut off the Nightshade’s legs with powerful blows of the holy sword. Blue fire burned on the open wounds of the terrible undead monster. This was holy fire sent from the God of War and it inflicted such pain on the Nightshade that the thing’s face nearly caved in from it’s death screams. Crispin finished the towering undead with a punch from his holy gauntlet to the skull, smashing it to bits and scattering rotten brains in a semicircle around them.

In the fold of Kian’s arms, Heath’s breathing strengthened and his eyes fluttered briefly before opening. Spots of blue smiled up at Kian and he started to move his arms and legs and his body straightened as bones came together inside his shattered body. A moment later he was whole again, he stood up, and dusted himself off. He’d completely healed from something that should have killed him. Without even thinking, the silver-haired knight hugged Kian and kissed him on the helmet. On the dark side of the visor, tears of joy streamed down Kian’s face. Dylan had been right…his knights were unkillable.

Kian glanced lovingly at his best friend who stood next to him, jeweled eyes darting into the mist, looking for the next threat. “Alright, let’s head north,” he commanded. The zombies and ghouls scattered before the Valion knight Alpha and reformed in their wake as the party passed. Next to Kian, Ella Fravaugh held the holy symbol of Melzhondra in his hands and uttered swift prayers to the Blood Goddess. They made their way past ancient stone tombs that bore wicked statues and bas-reliefs of demons and devils alike. Primeval piles of dust and bone stirred in their passing as the spirit of those buried sought to inhale the fragrance of life that flowed from the young men’s skin. It was a scent long forgotten in this place. A thing that was sweet as honey and warm as spring breath.

The party wended its way through the necropolis, minding the edge of the mysterious gray light that emanated in a huge swath from the orbiting moon Hurlothrumbo. Skeletons burned to ash in the holy aura given off by Dylan and his wolves, ghouls shrieked as their skin was burnt by it, and zombies crumpled into dust. Directly ahead, Kian saw the glow of firelight. They emerged onto the stone casings that comprised the foundation of the Fortress of Unbreakable Walls. The two naga at the Chaosphere slithered toward them on serpentine tails, holding forth their gargantuan swords whose blades were as long as Kian’s body. The grinding of the Byssian stone rings reminded Kian of stone mills that worked raw grain into flour.

Dylan charged in and the first naga immolated him in a shower of flame from its glowing crimson eyes. Simultaneously, it swung at him with the sword. Dylan caught it with his own blade and turned it aside before it struck him in the ribs. He cried out from burned skin and slashed at the Naga with his own blade. It caught Dylan’s swing with the shield and moved forward, thrusting him toward the wall. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

Ephram tucked and rolled under the Naga’s shield and came up with his own sword and slashed at the Naga’s midsection, cutting through the armor it wore and drawing red blood that fell in flaming drops. It howled and moved to one side and thrust its tail against Ephram who tripped and got crushed underneath it. Kian flickered and attacked driving Bloodbane between the thing’s shoulder blades as he landed on its back. It swung the end of the tail around to hit him but he ducked the blow with his supernatural reflexes. “Crispin, Heath attack the second naga,” Dylan’s thoughts came through. “Crispin, distract the Naga with your blade…don’t be afraid of the fire, it will burn you but your skin will regenerate almost instantly. Heath, roll under the shield and punch the area where the torso joins the tail with your gauntlet. It’ll break the gastrointestinal sac under the skin where the two chemicals are contained that when mixed, allow them to spray fire from their eyes.”

Kian wondered how Dylan knew that but Dylan’s thoughts easily floated through his own mind. He realized that Dylan, like himself, was much older than he looked. His age had been frozen in time by the God of War and as such, he’d been in the military for many years already. In fact, he’d joined right after he and Kian had broken up that first time in the mines of Kala-Pur. Part of being in the military meant that he studied how to fight monsters. It was much different than Kian’s assassin training because it primarily concerned tactics and strategy. However, Dylan, like most Valion knights, was highly intelligent and resourceful. He’d studied many monsters; naga included, and was directing his men the best way he knew how.

Kian pulled Bloodbane free from between the scapula of the enraged naga and hopped down to help Ephram to his feet. Next to them, Heath and Crispin were engaged with the other naga. Just as their Captain had directed, Heath distracted the Naga while Crispin rolled underneath the shield. The athletic red-head slammed his fist repeatedly in the vital area identified by Dylan and burst the sac. Beneath the naga’s skin, the two chemicals mixed and the monster bellowed in pain as its own flesh lit on fire. It rose up and trampled Crispin underneath its flaming body and skewered Heath through the stomach and out the other side with its sword. Blood sprayed over Kian who leapt up, grabbed hold of Heath and pulled him off the blade. The silver-haired knight staggered a moment, hands on his knees, breathing hard while his flesh healed under his armor. In the meantime, Kian helped Crispin to his feet and pushed his head down to avoid a shield slam from the enraged and burning naga. Then, he teleported onto the things back and swung Bloodbane in a tight arc, lopping off the head of the monster which flew off and fell amongst the throng of undead that clustered just beyond the firelight. Flames erupted around Kian, causing his armor to smolder. He jumped and landed, keeping his distance from the knights while his corobidian cooled so as not to poison them. He didn’t know how regeneration would work against poison, and truthfully, didn’t want to find out. While he waited, apart from them, he watched Dylan finish off the other naga.

It was a furious battle, but one that demonstrated just how athletic the knight truly was. He ducked, whirled, and slammed his weapon repeatedly against the ferocious creature, muscles twisting and bending underneath white armor. His grace defied the flexibility of many professional gymnasts.

Dylan parried the other naga’s blade ducked and got caught in the right with a backward swing of the serrated blade. It cut through his armor, showering the area directly in front of him with blue sparks. Blood welled from out of the wound but Dylan pulled himself off the sword and ran his own blade through the naga’s chin and out the back of its skull. The great monster shuddered and fell, dropping its weapon and shield with a clang. The Valion Captain pulled his sword free and walked over to Kian and the others to make sure they were okay.

“I’d be dead twice over today if it weren’t for you,” Heath said to Kian with a soft and kind voice. “I love you.”

“I know,” he said to him, voice submissive and somewhat gravelly. Then he hugged him and just so the others wouldn’t be jealous, he let all of the knights hug him and caress him on the helmet.

Having an omega with us,” Crispin said in their collective minds, “is the coolest thing ever milord.”

Be sure to thank Kian,” Dylan’s thoughts said.

We will sir, many times tonight,” they all thought at once. The comment caused a unified chuckle and Kian was visited upon by many visions of the experience they’d had last night from differing points of view. He knew he was good but had no idea that he was that good.

The conversation made Kian blush and he smiled at his boys who loved him so much. He turned and regarded the strangely rotating chaosphere which continued to grind away as it had for thousands of years in this strange wall of Byssian stone. Sweat that pooled in his armor leaked from the creases, from around his encased toes, giving him the momentary thought that Crispin was going to have a nice treat for him tonight when all of this was over. As if in answer, the red-head opened his visor and smiled at him. Kian chuckled to himself at the unique marks the wolves had put on him and thanked Tethyr that he only had four with whom he had to deal. As much as he was going to enjoy them, he prayed that there would never be another. Four was enough and all that he could handle in a single night. Of course, he entertained all of these thoughts behind the wall he’d erected in his mind. That sacred place he was sure he could still enjoy privacy from the prying eyes of his many boy lovers.

His thoughts returned to the door. He wondered if Bloodbane could damage Byssian stone and while he did so, he ran the platinum stud along the back of his teeth. It made a dull clack on the enamel and sounded like a stick run across the boards of a white picket fence.

A booming voice erupted from the shadows surrounding the entrance and the Timeron Knights appeared in great numbers. In the front was Skallhaundar Romax himself, eyes alight with blue lightning. The Darkglory regarded the Valions with distaste; Kian saw that in the back, Timeron Knights were slaughtering the undead that threw themselves against the contingent in waves as these evil men did not enjoy the benefits of a holy aura.

Dylan strode up and stood twenty feet from the Darkglory leader who’d locked eyes with the brilliant Valion Alpha.

“Surrender and I shall grant you a swift death,” Skallhaundar taunted.

In answer, Dylan lifted his visor and spat on the flagstones. “If you were dead, I wouldn’t piss on you to mark your corpse as my property. The followers of the Queen of Demons are as worthless as they are weak.”

Skallhaunder was so infuriated that his hands trembled. “Kill them all. And bring me his body so that I can eat it!”

Ten of the Timeron Knights who were not engaged with undead rushed into the square. Kian flickered and engaged one who whirled his razor cloak at him. He dodged out of the way, knocked the knight’s sword arm aside with a punch and a kick and split him in two with Bloodbane. Then he flickered next to Ephram who was being triple teamed. One knight had grabbed Ephram’s sword arm while another ran him through multiple times with his blade. Blood dripped all over the ground from the mortal wounds. Kian broke the man’s grip and Ephram smashed one of the assailants full on in the face with his gauntlet, sending bone chips exploding through mutilated flesh. The Timeron Knight fell limp pulling Ephram down with its weight as the top of his fist was caught in the guy’s helmet. Skillfully, he swung his blade in an arc, fended off a thrust from another steel blade and skewered a second Timeron Knight. Kian killed the last, cutting his head off giving Ephram enough time to free his fist from the first man he’d killed. Gauntlet dripping blood and some brain, Ephram parried a blow from another Timeron who was undaunted by the Valion’s uncanny recovery. Ephram ducked under the swirling cloak and slid his sword through the gut and followed up with an uppercut to the jaw. Kian heard him gurgle as he died. It was a sound he’d heard far too often.

Skellhaundar and Dylan were furiously fighting and lightning arced around Dylan’s slender form as he danced in and out of melee combat with the blue dragon darkglory. Blades sang as they clashed metal on metal. Skellhaundar managed to disarm Dylan and drove his cibrian blade toward the small unprotected point where helmet met collar. Kian flickered and appeared in front of the blade, kicked Dylan back and caught the sword between his palms, turned it aside, and spirit kicked Skellhaundar in the chest. The Darkglory flew back into the wall stunned.

“Kian! Stay out of this!” Dylan roared. “I’ve got this handled.” He retrieved his sword and pushed Kian out of the way and engaged the Darkglory again.

To his left, Ella Fravaugh rolled out onto the flagstones casting a spell. Glass shards exploded amidst the remaining Timeron Knights in the back who were engaged with waves of undead. Four of the Timerons instantly dropped in the shower of powerful magic, as well as a score of undead. Meat, body parts, and blood sprayed out over the necropolis from the detonation of the spell. The skintight black corobidian armor the men wore did nothing to shield them from the power of Melzhondran fury.

Crispin cried out and Kian saw the red-head, green-eyed boy stabbed through with four swords. Blood poured from between his lips while Kian watched helplessly; the Timeron knights who’d cut into his lover laughed and kicked his body forward. Their laughs stopped, however, a moment later when Crispin hopped to his feet again and beheaded the closest knight on the right.

“What the fuck?!” one of them exclaimed. “How is this possible?”

Crispin grinned, spitting blood and engaged the knights, lopping off limbs, and ducking under razor cloaks. He killed another with a punch from his gauntlet which upended the bearded Timeron and knocked him into one of the fiery braziers where his cloak burst into flames. Kian grinned when he heard the man scream, the hot coals frying him alive within his corobidian armor.

Help me…” Heath called out into Kian’s mind.

Kian whirled and saw that three knights had knocked him prone and were cutting down on him with their swords. He felt Heath’s pain with every cut and teleported to his friend’s side. He knocked one of the knights down with an elbow shot to the helmet. Heath took advantage of Kian’s sudden appearance and swung his sword about lopping off the right leg of one of the Timeron Knights standing over him. Blood squirted over him and Heath struck the good leg hard on the knee, knocking him to the earth. Kian dodged the blow from the last standing knight, slipped behind him, and put him in a hold while Heath leapt to his feet and punched through the guy’s gut, stretched out his fingers inside of his abdomen and closed them on his spine through the hole in his stomach. Blood fountained from between the man’s lips and his eyes rolled into his head. Then Heath crushed the man’s spinal cord in his grip and tore loose bone as he pulled his hand free. Kian let him slide like a limp, weighted sack to the ground.

Ella Fravaugh let loose with an Oubliette spell and sunk two of the Timeron Knights in shimmering pink orbs into the ground. Shrieking the men disappeared beneath the surface of the earth with clawed hands that grasped at the last vestiges of light.

Kian looked to Dylan who was bathed in electricity as Skellhaundar fought him back and forth in front of the gate. Movement just to their right caught his eye and he saw a Timeron Knight carry a boy and set him on the seal before the door. He looked back and saw the gray light from Hurlothrumbo wash over the carnage. Anyone caught in its path shrieked in pain and in moments, turned to ash as it slaughtered the living.

“The light!” Kian exclaimed to the others in his mind. The Valions dodged the swath and ran to the edges of it. It struck Kian full on for just a second before he teleported and he felt the pain of the gray light as he reappeared. Crispin grabbed him before he collapsed, breathless. Underneath his armor, Kian’s skin was awash in sweat as it poured off of him and his eyes were wide and frenetic. Ella Fravaugh and Henna just barely managed to escape. They had been closer to the edge of the light and were using spells to slay the enemy so the distance they had to cover had not been vast. Still, patches of the hare-foot’s fur smoldered and became brittle.

The Timeron Knight along with Skellhaundar jumped into the seal where magic must have protected them; Dylan was not so lucky. He ran toward them but got caught by the gray light. Kian watched, horrified, as Dylan started to turn to ash but the insane regeneration coursing through his omega-infused blood renewed his flesh second-by-second. He continued to run and made it to the edge where he collapsed next to Kian, smoke rising from his skin which still had a gray pallor to it. It took a full minute for his normal color to return and every second of that was spent in excruciating agony. Meanwhile Skellhaundar Romax and the last Timeron Knight watched as the Chaosgate slowed and came to a stop, revealing an ominous black portal into the fortress.

Kian weakly got up and put his arms around Dylan. He didn’t care what was going on anymore because he knew that his boyfriend had barely escaped with his life. He hugged him tightly and sobbed quietly, kissing the back of Dylan’s helmet and rocking him carefully and lovingly in his arms.

“Kian, I’m alive,” he said. “And no longer in pain thanks to you.” Carefully, he extricated himself from Kian’s embrace and kissed him back. “We don’t have time for this…but we will later. Do you understand?”

He opened his visor and dried his eyes. “Yes.”

“I know these feelings that are spinning through you are amplified by the rut but focus…we all need to focus.”

The Knights concurred, gathering around Kian and patting him reassuringly on the shoulder, hugging him so that he could be bolstered by their physical touch. They knew he sought reassurance that they were okay and were offering it to him so that he could calm himself. It worked. Kian swallowed and looked out at the two knights and the boy standing within the seal that protected them from the gray light of the necromantic moon above. Skellhaundar Romax cut the boy’s arm so deeply that blood dripped from the elbow and Dylan grimaced. The youth cried out and Kian felt his heart jump because it wasn’t right to hurt this beautiful boy. He reasoned that maybe this child was 12 years old at the most. He had light brown hair and gray eyes. He was thin and dressed in a simple smock with torn pants and no shoes. His feet looked dirty and covered with clay or ash. And they not only meant to bleed him, but they’d also planned to offer him to a terrible creature that would consume his flesh and rape his soul. This monster was called only the Faceless Lord and Kian believed that this was the evil referred to in his vision. However, there were so many things that confused him. He didn’t understand how men could knowingly harm a child; he didn’t understand how any book could be worth the price of an innocent life.

Hearing his thoughts, Dylan spoke up, “Kian, you’re a good person. Not all men think like you and I. Some commit evil simply because it pleases them.”

Kian knew this of course, but for some reason, it was more difficult to accept.

As the boy’s blood dripped on the flagstones, it spread as if guided by magical hands and a zone of safety appeared within the gray light that led up to the gateway. Triumphant, Skellhaundar Romax grabbed the boy, lifted him into his arms and walked with the other knight striding directly behind him. Once they stood within the open Chaosphere, they shackled the boy to the arrow points so that he stood within the very center of the rotating rings. Then they left him there, still bleeding, presumably as a sacrifice to the hellish inhabitants that resided on the far side of these walls. Kian saw the boy tremble and look around with wild eyes, knowing that he was doomed to a horrible death. He pulled futilely at the shackles, scraped skin from his wrists and hands but to no avail. Then he started to cry.

Kian swallowed his spit in frustration.

“How can we get across this?” Dylan asked. “That gray light almost killed me. There’s no way we can cross through it and survive.”

“I’ve an idea,” Ella Fravaugh said.

“Please, tell us,” Ephram said. Kian noted that the piercing in his mouth caught the gleam of the firelight. The knight saw the blond assassin staring at him and winked playfully.

“Henna, care to explain?” Ella Fravaugh prompted the fairy.

She cleared her throat and floated up on her butterfly wings. “The unseelie court are filled with wicked fairies that use our magic to skin men to form tapestries to hang in the halls of Clooth-na-Bare. If you notice, the undead are not turned to ash. Neither are the bodies of those that were already dead when the necromantic light caught up to them. Indeed, if you watch, you can see them starting to stir as the gray light animates them with its powerful undead energy. I’ve a spell which can flay the skin from the corpses of the freshly dead and assemble it into a tapestry. Then, we can hold it over our heads and run to the seal and through the portal.”

“Do it,” Dylan commanded. “Please.”

Henna nodded and began to sing.

 

“The host is riding from Knocknarea

And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;

Caolite tossing his burning hair,

And Niamh calling Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,

Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,

Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,

Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;

And if any gaze on our rushing band,

We come between him and the deed of his hand,

We come between him and the hope of his heart.

The host is rushing t’wixt night and day,

And where is there hope or deed as fair?

Coalite tossing his burning hair,

And Niamh calling Away, come away.”

 

The ancient fairy magic filled the battleground with scarlet mist that rose upward from the ground like a cloud of thick dust disturbed by a thousand footfalls. Kian heard the tear of skin and saw the magic rip the flesh from the dozen or so dead knights who were starting to animate under the gray light of Hurlothrumbo. The skins floated upward and joined together and then floated toward Henna’s outstretched hands as she sung. When it exited the rim of the gray light, Crispin and Ephram grabbed it and stretched it over them using their hands. The leather wasn’t cured by any means and still dripped gobbets of blood and flesh from one side. It rained down on them in thick droplets.

“Let’s move and quickly,” Dylan stated.

The seven of them proceeded out into the gray light and as Henna had predicted, they were protected underneath the dead flesh. Dylan quickly led them to the seal and then up to where the gate and the boy were waiting. The boy started screaming as they approached and the knights moved through to the other side while Kian stopped and knelt next to him.

“Shhhh… you’re not going to die.”

“Help me,” the boy begged.

Kian nodded and looked at Dylan.

“He has to stay here or the portal will close on us,” Dylan warned. “I want to save him as much as you. But not if it means our own imprisonment.”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” Kian stated. The assassin looked at the rings of Byssian stone and pulled out Bloodbane. Then with all his strength he rammed the point of the blade into the rings and the sword cut through them and into the foundation of the wall. Kian buried it almost to the hilt and let go.

Dylan blinked with shock and watched Kian loosen the shackles that bound the boy and scoop him gently into his arms. Then he walked out of the Chaosphere carrying the boy and set him down amidst the other knights on the inside of the Fortress of Unbreakable Walls. Carefully, he bandaged the boy’s wounds who continued to hug the blond assassin about the neck. Kian just smiled at the boy’s affection and tousled his hair with his gloved hand.

Behind them, the mysterious Chaosphere activated because the sacrifice was no longer in place but couldn’t move because Bloodbane held the stone rings. The gate shrieked but the power of the miraculous sword was too great to overcome.

Dylan smiled at Kian, still unable to process that somehow, Kian’s sword was so powerful that it was able to stop a gateway designed to hold back powerful demons from spilling into the world of men. In the role of leader, he directed them to proceed down a dark corridor of stone. From somewhere below, warm air wafted upward carrying with it the smell of putrefaction and the screams of doomed souls. And Dylan gripped his sword tightly, hoping for some payback at Skellhaundar Romax’s expense.

Gonna try to wrap this story up in a couple of chapters or so. Lots of material here for a sequel methinks.
©Copyright 2010 by Michael Offutt writing as Kavrik; All Rights Reserved. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I couldn't agree more; a sequel is most certainly required. Loved the carnage in this. I live close to the scene of a battle ( Towton, 1461, Wars of the Roses) said to be one of the most horrendous scenes of bloodletting in history, skulls crushed with halbards, bodies hacked about, then strung up on trees, and the Towton burn running red with blood for the whole Easter weekend. Lovely. It seemed like you were there! I hope Kian is going to taste the testosterone of his lover and boys quite soon. great work! (( Is this a typo?? “I just don’t want you risking your head is all.” 'that's all ))

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