Chaos Lives in Everything - 24. Chapter 24

Sliding immediately into battle mode, Skold lashed out with a high flying kick. His mind knew what to do without his brain having to tell it to. His foot connected with the side of the revenant’s head, cracking through its fragile skull. He could sense that other revenants had burst through the other windows and the wards were doing nothing to stop them.

He flipped out of the way narrowly dodging a stream of the black vomit barfed up by another creature. Before he landed on his feet, he fired both Colts. The revenant’s head exploded in a shower of black gore.

Already the hall had exploded into a state of frenzied chaos as the elves around him either fled in terror or stood their ground against the advancing onslaught of undead creatures. Flashes of light flew through the air as spells were unleashed. Skold turned just in time to see a revenant leap onto an elf’s back and rip her throat out with its teeth. Blood splattered the once-beautiful marble dance floor, painting it with dark crimson.

In the back of his mind Skold knew that the elf was done for. The revenant had done too much damage for her to be able to heal such a wound. Normally Skold would have moved on to the next target, not caring of the casualties around him; in such situations the only thing that mattered was eliminating the threat. Instead of moving on he slammed the handle of a Colt into the back of the creature’s head, sending shards of softening skull through the air. At least I have avenged her death by killing the very thing that killed her, he thought.

Standing in the center of the room Dom, Candestine, and Samhein stood in the middle of the ballroom, fighting waves of the revenant. The undead kept coming through the windows; there were simply too many of them to count. Knowing that he had to get to them, Skold fought his way through the undead. White and red light burst from the muzzles of his guns, using them as melee weapons when he could.

“Glad you could join us,” Dominyc grunted, swinging his large battle axe. The blade sliced through the throat of a revenant with a sharp hiss.

After what seemed like an endless wave of revenants the numbers started to trickle down before finally stopping. Skold wiped a strand of silver hair out of his face. He turned to Samhein glaring.

“You’re wards are doing a shitty job,” Skold said.

Samhein cursed, frustrated. “The necromancer must have made them immune to the wards with some kind of enchantment.”

“Did you have me come here to use my as bait?” Skold demanded.

“What would give you that idea?”

“Answer the question!”

Samhein nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“A hunch I had. But I don’t think now is the time for explanations. More of those things are coming.”

Sure enough, just as what was left of the Samhein’s party guests were gathering themselves (some were badly wounded and limping) for a fight, the double doors to the ballroom burst open and a fresh wave of revenants flooded in.

Fuck! Skold thought, enraged. We don’t have time for this!

“Dominyc, Candestine!” he barked. “Keep them off of me!”

“By the Ferry Man’s balls, what are you planning?” Candestine asked, her voice colored with dread.

Skold smirked. “Blood magic.”

“Fuck me!” she exclaimed, snapping the neck of a charging revenant. “Blood magic is almost as bad as death magic. Alright, you got it!”

Skold reached for the dagger that he kept in his boot and pulled it out. He ran the blade across his palm and let the blood seep from the wound onto the floor. He began to chant rapidly under his breath, his eyes rolling back into his head to show the whites. “Mya ym bdloo dyeosrt tehso woh skee ot od em hmar! Peugr tmhe fmor tsih wdorl.” (Translation: May my blood destroy those who seek to do me harm! Purge them from this world!)

Tendrils of blood sprouted from the crimson puddle at his feet, the ends forming sharp blades. One by one the tendrils whistled through the air, impaling revenants left and right, tearing their limbs apart. Skold’s eyes pulsed like two twin beacons of silver light. His hand flailed through the air, directing the blood tendrils. Blood continued to rain from the wound in his hand.

“That’s all of them, I think,” Dom huffed.

“No.” Shouting a single word, Skold willed the blood tendrils to fall. Now the marble floor was almost completely red. His cheeks was dotted with specs of blood. “The necromancer will send more. I’m going after him.”

The seer’s voice suddenly cut into his head, urgent: Skold, you are no match for him! You cannot face him on our own!

Stay out of my head seer! Skold shot back. He wants me then he’ll have me!

“I am going,” Skold said.

“I’m coming with you,” Dom said.

Skold said. “You and Candestine need to stay here and watch over Samhein. Do as I say.”

Dom nodded and handed his battle axe to Skold. “At least take this.”

Skold hefted it and flashed Dom a wicked smile.

Skold stood underneath the velvety black sky, facing the woods behind Samhein’s house. It was here that the magic was coming from, a powerful dark magic. It was here that the necromancer was hiding. Skold knew it. Skold could feel it. He knew that the necromancer was watching him, hiding in the shadows.

“I’m going to give you one chance, necromancer!” Skold said, his voice ringing through then night. “I’m going to give you one chance to reveal yourself, to explain yourself! I am in no mood to play games!”

He saw something move: Something dark and fast. He thought he saw the flap of the necromancer’s tattered cloak and then the movement was gone, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

So be it, Skold thought. In I go.

He began to make his way through the trees, smacking branches aside with the solid wooden handle of the axe. Branches grabbed at his hair and scraped along the shoulders of his jacket. He was too busy scanning the darkness for the signs of the necromancer to notice or care. He moved slowly, gracefully, barely making a sound.

He stopped.

There were things in the woods.

Watching eyes.

He was not alone. He inhaled, breathing the smell of rot, of ever decaying flesh.

“I know you’re there necromancer,” Skold said. “I can smell the stink of your flesh. Come, come out wherever you are. If you are oh so powerful then why do you hide?”

The necromancer laughed, his voice coming from directly above Skold. He stood on top of a thick tree branch. Skold gestured with his hand and shouted “Fuere!” Fire lanced from the palm of his outstretched hand. The necromancer jumped out of the way just before Skold’s spell could hit him, his laughter trailing behind him as he disappeared into shadow. The branches of the trees burned. Shadows flickered on the wood floor. Glowing embers rose into the night.

“One of the things that I’ve always loved about you is how bold you are,” the necromancer said, his voice floating from the right. Skold’s eyes scanned the dark, searching for him, but again found nothing. The necromancer was on the move again, circling around Skold, his voice seeming to come from all directions simultaneously. “It thrills me to see that part hasn’t changed about you. But you are just as foolish as ever. No matter, it will not save you.”

Skold could sense the necromancer coming from behind him, moving so fast that the air shifted. He saw the flash of a blade flying straight for his head and dropped into a roll, rising back on his feet just in time to see the necromancer advancing quickly, a scythe in hand. He swiped at Skold a second time. Skold leapt out of the way, parrying a third attack with the axe that Dom had given him. He spun around, swinging at the necromancer’s head...only the necromancer was no longer there.

Skold gritted his teeth in frustration, his mouth upturning into an angry sneer. “Too afraid to face me directly?” he taunted. “Since you know everything about me then you must know what I’m capable of. I can play evil too.”

The necromancer did not answer this time.

Skold broke into a run, flitting stealthily in between the trees. He knew that the necromancer was not far behind, following him closely. After playing this game of cat and mouse for a mile and a half he thought he could smell the salt-tinged water of the ocean, hear the waves crashing. Here the air grew more frigid, more chilly. He pushed aside a branch and stepped out into a clearing suddenly feeling very calm, almost comforted. Skold had always loved the sound of the ocean, perhaps even more so than the view of the city from his apartment. The ground before him went on for another fifty feet or so and then dropped suddenly into a steep cliff. He approached the cliff and looked down at the black filmy water.

He turned and came face to face with the necromancer; he remembered the vision he’d had in the cemetary of the two of them standing on the mountain. This moment was almost like that but instead of standing on a mountain top they stood on top of a cliff.

“After all of these years you have not changed a bit, my dear Skold,” the necromancer said almost tenderly, reaching out to touch Skold almost tenderly.

Skold stepped away, holding his axe before him. “Do not touch me, foul creature.”

The necromancer froze. Skold tried to see through the shadows at the creature’s face but the shadows were inpenetrable.

“There was a time when my heart belonged to you,” said the necromancer. “There was a time when I wanted to kiss you just as there was a time when I didn’t look like what I do now. If you could only remember what I looked like. But then if you remembered you would not be able to look at me as I am now. Now no one can look at me. My heart and soul is tainted. Long ago you made a deal with me and in return you were to my apprentice, my servant. But you broke the deal and you fled and I never saw you again. But I’ve been looking for you. Oh how I’ve been looking for you.”

“I know not of what you speak!” Skold cried, his voice raw, desperate. He yearned for answers more than he had ever yearned for anything. “Tell me!”

“It hurts me to see you like this almost as much as it brings me joy,” the necromancer said sadly. “Almost. Perhaps your soul is even more tortured than my own. You have no memories, only questions. I am the one that holds all of the answers. I have turned the world over, looking for you. When you left, when you stole what was mine, I vowed that when I found you I would never let you go. And I warned you to stay away from me, to stay out of my way. Even that cunt of a seer warned you, but you did not listen. And so now I will claim what is mine. I will claim what you owe me, your soul. You’re soul is mine, Skold, son of Kane! Tonight you will die not knowing the truth!”

The necromancer swooped on Skold, the scythe flashing dangerously through the air. It was everything Skold could do to parry each attack. The necromancer’s strength and speed was surprising, each attack filled with rage, filled with the intent to kill. All of the while Skold was cruelly aware that the necromancer was driving him closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

The seer was right, Skold thought. I was a fool to think that I could handle this creature on my own.

But it was too late to acknowlege his mistake now. He had to find some way to gain the upper hand. When needing to Skold was not opposed to fighting dirty when it came to gaining the upper hand. And fortuantly for himself he had a trick up his sleeve.

He was on the verge of teetering off the cliff. One more step and he would plummet to the icy depths below. On a day with good weather he would have survived such a fall but the strength of the tide below would crush his body against the rocks hard enough to shatter every bone in his body.

Still the necromancer was too quick, too strong. With a swipe of his scythe he knocked Skold’s axe out of his hand. It fell uselessly over the head of the cliff. The blade of the necromancer’s scythe buried itself into the flesh of Skold’s shoulder. Skold screamed in pain and sunk to his knees.

The necromancer raised the scythe over his head about to bring it down on Skold’s head. He said, “I’m sorry, lover.”

Skold smirked. “So am I.”

At that moment Dominyc came up behind the necromancer and ran the blade of his sword through the necromancer’s chest.

The necromancer staggered back but seemed unharmed. He laughed tauntingly at Dominyc. “You dumb brute! Did you really think that would kill me?”

Skold staggered to his feet. He clutched at his wounded shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers. Under his breath he chanted, “Lgingthi! Lgingthi tyh eynme!”

Lightning lanced from the sky, striking the necromancer in the back. Skold dove forward, wrapping his arms around the creature’s waist and threw him over the edge of the cliff. With thunder still rumbling overhead he watched the necromancer plummet towards the water. Skold turned away, exhausted.

“Is he dead?” Dom asked.

Skold shook his head. “If a sword through the chest did not kill him then I don’t think that will. He’ll be back. We should get back before he comes back. We are no match for him.”

Dom touched his shoulder gently, looking concerned. “You’re hurt...”

Skold shrugged away from him. “It’s nothing. It will heal in no time. How did you find me?”

Dom smiled, cupping Skold’s face in both of his massive hands. He leaned forward and kissed Skold on the lips. He said, “We are Vervolechent. I will always be able to find you.”