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Chapter 19 - Talinnius

I

        Marching at the Champon’s fore, the Demon effortless lead the pace on foot. Talinnius kept his sight firmly on the Demon’s back as he trailed it by a few strides atop his horse. Its form had become more metallic – losing the flesh-like quality it had in the farmhouse – and the shadowed double that occupied the same space was no longer apparent. It was solid and there was little to distinguish it from one of the twenty-one Champions – with Veturius’s return to their ranks – who followed. Only the Demon’s eyes remained inhuman and burned with an inferno’s intensity.
        The Demon was the single greatest threat Talinnius had ever faced, and he was found lacking in every aspect during their brief encounter. Not since he was first inducted into the order as an orphan had he found himself so wanting when challenged by an opponent. Since vowing to accompany it, Talinnius had not allowed the Trance to subside. He knew he would pay for maintaining such awareness and strength, but there was no choice. So, he practiced a talent Achamus was only just beginning to teach him. It was Achamus’s theory that Trance could be separated into levels or depths – the less deep, the less tole on the body and the longer the Trance could be supported. As with all things, there was a tradeoff. His emotions could still be felt, although distantly, and he could still feel severe pains, but he benefited from increased strength, and balanced mind. It was both numbing and awakening at once. Even with the Trance leveling his emotional state, he could feel his injured confidence and vowed to demand more from his training when this was all complete. He would perfect this skill as Achamus had done and achieve the perfect Trance state all Champions sought.

        How the Demon had Achamus’s sword weighed more heavily on his thoughts than any self-doubt. Did this thing – this Demon – kill Achamus? Talinnius theorized with a growing rage. Was this what Quintis feared and refused to tell me? He could not answer these questions and was not one to speculate or guess. So, he decided to bide his time and quell his anger until the answers became apparent. Achamus’s sword felt heavy strapped to his back. It was as if it weighed on his soul and demanded justice. A constant pang, like a ringing in the air. He pushed away and ignored the imaginary sensation, reaffirming to his rebellious thoughts that for now, he must keep within striking distance – knowing his only chance was to catch the Demon unawares – should the need arise to face the Demon once more.        “You may turn your killer’s eyes away from our back, Untouched,” The Demon said with a single deep voice. Its eyes remained forward – watching only the road– and it kept to its steady unyielding pace.

        Talinnius arrested his mount slightly. Every time the Demon spoke, his and the other horses sought flight. His gaze narrowed. and he concluded that whatever senses the Demon possessed it could read his intent to harm it and his indecision in this quest. This did not surprise him. For some reason, he believed it would have been more shocking if the Demon did not possess such a talent.

        “Can you blame me, Demon?” Talinnius retorted.

        The Demon chuckled in a way that felt like both a wild dog as well as a man. Humour – no matter how unnatural it sounded – was the most human thing it had done since their first encounter, which sent a shiver down Talinnius’s spine. The laughter was wholly foreign coming from the Demon – causing more discomfort and apprehension. Somehow, it made it easier to be around it when it did not show any humanity.

        “No,” It replied after its mirth died to quiet air.
        It said no more and Talinnius was not one to start up a conversation. So, their truce continued in silence as the Demon lead the Champion’s column down the road without rest.

II

        Eventually, Talinnius dropped back to be amongst his fellow Champions. There was little point in keeping an offensive against the Demon if it could read his intent.
        Veturius remained unusually quiet – something that was far from his norm. Talinnius guessed Veturius shared his own misgivings. To be so easily beaten was tough to digest – especially their entire being was dedicated to not letting that happen. That fact would not dissuade Talinnius though. He needed his friend’s focus for whatever was to come and sought to get Veturius’s mind working once more.
        He pulled alongside Veturius, slightly away from the rest of the column. He would not insult him by asking how he was feeling and instead inquired about what Veturius had found when following Tettius footsteps, “What did you find?”
        Veturius showed his understanding, as if he possessed the Demon’s talent for mind reading. He spoke calmly – though there was a near imperceptible tremour at his speech’s edges – “A horror that is hard to explain and not the one that leads us. I am not sure which is worse...”
        “Speak Veturius.”
        “I know not what to call it... and barely know how to describe it...”
        Talinnius gave Veturius silence to contemplate what to say.
        “It was... an abomination,” Veturius began. He started by describing Tettius’s devastation of the town. After another pause, he spoke about the cellar and the half dead creature that assailed him. Lastly and briefly, he told how he was captured the Demon. With a sigh, Veturius finished, “I believe we were wrong to execute Tettius.”
        Talinnius had already come to that same conclusion and if were not for the partial Trance, he would have been crippled by guilt and more self-doubt. Instead, he remained silent and held the distant feelings at bay. He kept his breathing steady and centered himself. An instinct told him that should the Trance break, he would become broken by his failure.

III

        The sun was toying with the western horizon, by casting brilliant oranges mixed with purples and violets across the sky. Talinnius felt it almost poetic, like something from a bard’s tale. Such a brilliant backdrop for the town. He studied the economic and rowed buildings from a hill large enough to overlook them. He could just see over the walls from his angle and therefore was afforded a view of the red tiled rooves that were standard to all Carthirosian architecture. However, they were much simpler when compared to the capital – in both scale and structure – but were still a testament to the Empire’s majesty. Everything aspect was designed with purpose and to last. The streets were well ordered, and the larger buildings were supported by decorated concrete columns. There were even statues depicting the God’s and great heroes scattered through the two central squares.
        He felt Cordia slowly shifting to his side and met her gaze. Not even the Trance could steal her large eye’s majesty and beauty from turning his chest. Again, he could not give the feeling a name or understand it – but as always, he was thankful she was beside him.
        “How many people would you say live here?” He asked quietly, so only she could hear.
        She matched his volume and pitch, “Around a thousand, not including the outlying farms.”
        His heart sank and he pulled away from her gaze. He had to will his hold on the Trance and pushed deeper into it. Slowly, his emotions were buried; he met her eyes once more. They shared his pain. She knew what he was about to order.
        “I killed Tettius for what I am about to order,” he said. Saying his guilt aloud did not supply any relief.
        “He acted without word,” She tried to justify, “Had he-”
        Talinnius interjected, “He tried to explain... I did not listen. I must be better Cordia. I cannot fail. I can’t fail anymore.”
        Before she could reply, he pressed a hand on her shoulder and met her eyes once more. She nodded in understanding, but he could tell she wanted to defend him. He gave a melancholic smile before turning away. He made his way down towards the hill’s base – where the Demon stood. It turned to regard him; the fire in its eyes blazed with fresh intensity.
        “And so, we come to this, Untouched,” The two voices spoke as one. “Will your vow hold?”
        “I must know more before I order my Champions to slaughter our own people,” Talinnius said.
        The Demon smiled with its dual aspect – one flesh and one metallic. Its voice separated further as it spoke, and its armour began to resemble a wet bone-like texture. Talinnius could feel the air shimmering around it as if it exuded power like an electrical storm. “We believe your friend – the one we captured as bait – told you all you need to know, Untouched.”
        “We will find those things in there? The burnt monster he saw before he encountered you?”
        “Ghouls?” The Demon paused as if to think on the word further. “Yes, that is their name. We will find a town consumed by their taint. They are abominations to the Gods’ will. We are the Gods instrument. We are their Slayer. We alone have not lost the path. We alone will kill those who would betray the Gods and vanquish all their abhorrent children they have created.”
        “I don’t understand,” Talinnius said.
        “Your understanding is not what we need,” The Demon growled, “We must admit our weakness. We have slumbered for many years and the Gods are distant in their own slumber. We cannot draw on their power as we once did – not until they reawaken. With each day, we feel the God’s strength growing and I grow stronger with them, but we cannot wait. This plague will spread. So, for now, we will use you and those you have come with. Your armour holds power that you are blind too. It will protect you against the Ghouls’ claws and their bite. Your swords hold more. They will cut into their diseased flesh and purify it. For these reasons, you will be an asset in this fight.”
        Talinnius knew both his armour and his weapons were gifted to the Order by the Gods, but beyond their ability to protect – using thinner material than any other comparable armour but holding much more strength – and the ability to carve through almost any material with ease with his swords, he was unaware of any additional powers. He very much doubted the Demon would tell him anymore and so did not deem in prudent to ask.
        “All must die,” The Demon sneered, “They all carry the taint. Only fire and your weapons will consume this plague. If we do not, the land will be consumed by their taint. We will use both.”
        With an empty chest, Talinnius bowed his head in shame. He thought about Tettius and about what Veturius described. He felt heavy and had to push himself even further into the Trance’s void. “I and my Champions are at your disposal Demon, my vow stands.”
        “Good,” It gave its twin smile.

IV

        His doubts would not shrink, despite how deep in dove into the Trance. However, he still gave the command and the Champions split up into four parties - one group to approach the town from each gate.
        Lavici was not a large town. Therefore, he knew it would not take his fellow Champions long to assume their places around the town’s entrances. He entrusted a group to Nigilus, a stoic veteran who was nothing but reliable and Attia – knowing it would do them both well to lead. The third he entrusted to Drusus – a reliable warrior who was quickly making a name for himself within the Order and acted well beyond his youth.
        He kept Cordia and Veturius at his side for no other purpose than greed. He knew Drusus could handle this assignment but was not the best pick for the task when compared to Nigilus and Attia. Cordia was the more natural pick to lead the last group. She had more experience and a greater skill at arms. To her credit, she did not question his decision and did not appear to take offense. His intuition told him she did not want to leave his side in this moment, just as much as he wanted her to stay by him. He felt he was proven right by how eagerly she accepted her appointment at his side. He would also not risk Veturius to lead while his humours were distracted. This task had started with rescuing Veturius, and Talinnius would not fail at that task despite the new circumstances.
        With the other groups no longer in sight, he closed his eyes and willed himself forward. The first step came from its own accord, and it felt heavy. He followed it with another, which was heavier than the last. Tettius’s words came unasked for:
        “I wish I could show you Talinnius,” Tettius had said, “Then it would all change. You would free me from these chains and care for my wounds. You would place a sword in each of my hands and ask me to charge beside you once more. I am not afraid to die. I am afraid that my death will not be the warning you need to save what we hold dear. You must take up the cause I started.”
        “Your warning will not go unanswered, Tettius,” Talinnius whispered, “I am sorry I doubted you.”
        “What?” Cordia asked.
        “Let’s get this over with,” Talinnius said and marched towards Lavici. His focus sharpened like a knife’s edge, now unhindered and with lighter feet.

V

        Lavici’s streets were quiet – almost ghostly. Every shutter was sealed, and doors closed. It was all uninviting. Beyond the inhospitality, everything seemed normal, aside from a gloom feeling that could not be explained. There were no signs of conflict or disaster. It all made Talinnius uncomfortable, and his hairs rose to express his tension. He slowly withdrew a sword and held it low at his side gestured for his party to spread out.
        The Demon walked a few yards ahead in an almost casual manner. It looked totally at home in the tense atmosphere. Talinnius had not noticed before, but it did not fit in with the rest of the world. However, now it did. He did not know what that meant and guessed that meant ill for everyone and everything else in this forsaken town.
        As they pressed forward, a distant voice rolled softly through the streets. It had an edge to it that Talinnius could not quiet place. He detested its tone. He could tell the preacher sounded like a madman – similar to the deranged doom preachers in Carthirose’s poorer areas – despite not being able to clearly hear the words.
        The Demon at last showed some discontent. It growled, while freeing its sword. Before Talinnius could question it, the Demon raced heedlessly into the night at an impossible speed. Talinnius impulse was to follow but did so with prudence. He pushed even deeper into the Trance so that he only felt what his senses told him. The voice grew clearer and louder as he carefully sprinted after the Demon.
        “Have faith!” The voice cried – now clear as the distance was eaten by Talinnius soft footfalls. “I know your fears, I see them in your eyes! But we must have faith noble people of Lavici!”
        The Demon stood shadowed and out from sight at the square’s arching entrance. Talinnius took a space opposite and scanned the scene playing out.
        Lavici’s buildings opened into a wide square, where a small crowd had gathered. Marble statues overlooked them atop plinths at the square’s corners. The preacher stood atop a dried fountain and looked as deranged as Talinnius had imagined in his approach. The madman was thin to the point of being frail and black veins webbed across his hairless head and gaunt face. His skin gleamed with sweat, which reflected the dim lamps at the square’s border. A few equally sick looking guards stood around the fountain with their spears leveled at the crowd, but it seemed unnecessary. Whatever the crowd’s nature, they seemed to agree with the preacher’s madness. Their fervor was up, but the hostile intent was yet to be directed. The explosion would happen, but not yet. The madman had to finish preaching before they could unleash their pent-up emotions.
        The preacher pointed an accusing finger at the spectators and paused dramatically. He lifted the finger to the sky, and all was silent. He broke the quiet with a deranged cry, “The Gods are pleased, my friends! They have sent their divine messengers to free us from our burdens! To free us in order to do their will! Your suffering is caused by your fear! Let go of your fears. This sickness is a gift! We must embrace the Gods’ will noble citizens of Lavici! I have seen it! Their bite has brought me closer to the Gods and I have become their messenger. Look-” the preacher lowered his finger and directed it towards a nearby sewer covering near the crowd's periphery. “-Our deliverance comes!”

VI

        With a clank, the sewer cover spat open as if it were a poor magician’s trick. At first, nothing came but just when doubt crept into the crowd’s minds, a pale white hand clawed its long fingers into the cobblestone. Attached to the hand a monster followed. It was skeletal in aspect and looked more dead than alive. Thin hair strands hung heavily from its skull as if damp. Its body was exposed except for a tattered clothing so soiled with filth that their original colour and design could not be defined. Coal black eyes darted over the crowd with animalistic hunger and sinister intent. Their utter soullessness caused the crowd to step back a fraction as they panned.
        “Bow my friends! To your knees!” The preacher screamed louder than before, “The God’s bless us with their deliverance!”
        Whether from massed insanity or stupidity, the crowd dropped to their haunches with their heads bowed to the road.
        The Demon snarled its distaste, “Fools!”
        It marched forward with an authoritative and purposeful stride, like a master who was about to discipline its pupils with a stick or rod. The crowd was too far away for it to stop what was about to come and Talinnius doubted the Demon cared. The Demon was not here to prevent – it was here to give a lesson.
        The pale creature revealed its fanged maw as two others identically afflicted creatures lifted themselves from the sewer behind it. They flanked the first and, as one, they flung themselves into the passive crowd – letting their fanged maws lead the way.
        Talinnius struggled to explain what he was witnessing but knew the creature’s matched Veturius description perfectly. The Demon had called them Ghouls and the name fit them as naturally as describing a person as a man or woman. They bloodied themselves with savage delight. Thick crimson jetted as they tore out throats with their teeth.
        “Kill them all,” Talinnius begrudgingly ordered to the others, who had gathered in the arch’s shadowed concealment, “Be careful around the Ghoul creatures.”
        It was apparent that the Ghouls thin and wirily frame was not to be underestimated. In a few seconds, they had mutilated half the crowd. They seemed extraordinarily eager to reach the preacher but could not help but satiate their thirst on those closest. It was as if his voice called to them and that was close to the truth – but Talinnius doubted there was any magic to it; more likely an animalistic need to silence the loudest in the herd.
        The crowd became less willing, and screams spread throughout. People scattered, fleeing for their lives. Their panic did not matter. None would make it out alive. Talinnius would see to that.
        Four more Ghouls crawled from the sewer behind the first three and sniffed the air, like dogs seeking a rabbit's trail. They cried their delight at the carnage as they raced to join it. Again, they were beyond fast; their bodies blurred, and they appeared to be little more than darting pale white flashes amongst the mayhem. When they caught their prey, they forced them to their will with strength that handled any weight ease and broke bones as if they were dry branches. The newly arrived Ghoul’s spread out and gave chase to those who ran – leaping through the air like a leopard from a tree.
        One woman skidded to a halt as the Demon came within a few feet of her, seeming to materialize from the dark. A Ghoul – unaware as to why the woman stopped – collided and took the woman from her feet. Its fangs tore into her without hesitation and life fluid spattered onto the Demon’s feet. She screamed her pain and cried for a mercy that would not come.
        With its initial bloodlust sated, the Ghoul lifted its hungry eyes as the Demon’s shadow fell over it. The savage glee in its twisted features fell away and whatever intelligence it possessed, made it withdraw with a hiss. The woman kicked and rose as soon as its weight was off her. She held her bleeding neck and her eyes were wild with fight.
        The Demon’s sword took its first life by bisecting her as a farmer would casually scythe wheat. The two halves slumped wetly onto the cobbles. The Demon seemed materialize around the corpse and its blade easily sailed deep into the Ghoul’s exposed throat on the return stroke. A black blood geyser flew up and mixed with the red spilling from the Lavician woman, who spasmed her remaining life out.
        As one, the other Ghoul’s stopped their slaughter and perked up like ground squirrels scanning for danger atop their mounds. The delight in their expressions turned to a dark hatred and their thin faces twisted with anger as the Demon stepped over their fallen without second thought or remorse.
        Talinnius watched this all as he drew his second sword, while racing to the crowd’s deteriorating edge. He began to move his blades into the circles and pirouetted around the first Lavician to come near. His heart almost broke as he took that first life with his crisscrossing swords; knowing full well the man – barely old enough to be call so – was an innocent, but the Trance refused his emotions full fury, and he continued without hesitation. Blood droplets dance off his swords creating raining spirals through the air as they harvested meat with each slash. Each successive kill became easier, and he withdrew into the combat’s rhythm – letting his body move as instinct demanded.
        The others were a step behind him and began to encircle the disorganized mob. Their swords flashed white and with each swing a crimson stream sailed into the air to land heavily onto the cobbles. Each was a mercy stroke – made to kill as quickly as possible. Even en-masse, the crowd was no threat to any single Champion. None had arms or armour and the pressing bodies were unorganized. They could not resist the skilled warriors intermixing themselves into in their chaotic numbers. Like the Ghouls, the Champions fought their way to the madness’s epicentre - the fountain and the madman atop it.
        Talinnius pushed faster and harder than the rest. Only Cordia kept pace. With a grace that was beautiful but as deadly as a viper, she stayed a step behind him. He almost paused when a guard, who had kept his mind – at least partially – thrust his spear at Cordia, who batted it away without breaking stride. The guard’s head jumped from his shoulders with her second stroke, and she moved on without a pause. She slew two more people for the body decided to crumple.
        For a second, Talinnius lost the Demon in the swirling chaos as he fought. After a blink, he found it launching itself up the fountain in a feat no man could match. It was as if it were lifted by great wings rather than the power it generated from its legs. Its sword blazed with a furious power that was beyond the Champions’ swords silver-white glow. It savagely skewered a Ghoul who had just reached the madman preacher, causing the creature’s whole chest to collapse from the blow’s strength.
        Miraculously or luckily, the preacher survived the encounter, but fell clumsily from the fountain’s heights now that the Ghoul’s weight no longer held him aloft. Unluckily, his skull and brains were splattered on the fountain basin’s lip as he landed. After a perverse twitch, the man lay still and dead.

VII

        Talinnius nor any other Champion were given a chance to confront a Ghoul; the Demon had taken on that task by itself and was a force beyond nature in doing so. In the slaughter’s swirling confusion, Talinnius saw the Demon’s might a few more times after the preacher’s demise. It moved with a speed and force that sent those in its way sprawling as it seemed to fly towards each Ghoul. Each blow was delivered with impossible skill and earth-shattering force. Every life it took was dealt a blow that both cut cleanly and crushed its brutal force. Talinnius had never seen a living human being pop from such explosive force. It was like each blow was done by lightning bolts rather than a sword.
        A single Ghoul managed to survive and fled back into the sewer; its escape was covered by the chaotic melee. Aside from it, not a single soul left the square. The Demon stood over the open sewer, having followed the last Ghoul to its escape route, and its eyes glowed with a fresh burning intensity, beyond anything Talinnius had witnessed prior.
        He approached carefully and said, “What next?”
        “This whole town is already dead. I can smell the infection – the rot. They will all die – consumed by this Plague – or become more of the abominations. A nest this large will spread and consume your fledgling empire if allowed to continue,” It growled in reply with no humanity traced in its singular animalistic voice. “You will burn and kill everything above. I will go below into the sewer’s depths and cleanse the nest.”
        Talinnius noticed it no longer spoke in plural when referring to itself and desperately wished he knew the Demon’s aspects. He felt there were somehow two beings occupying the same body, which felt both obvious and the most impossible thing to imagine. Especially now that it had a singular voice – one with no inflection he could relate to. He asked, “You can do so alone?”
        The Demon chuckled with inhuman mirth that seemed wholly genuine and made Talinnius more uncomfortable in its presence.
        “To think a mortal has concern for me. Do not worry Untouched, I will not allow myself to be killed by such abhorrent abominations.”
        With a casual step, the Demon plunged into the sewer – vanishing into the dark below.

VIII

        Talinnius lead his group back to the gate, where they had entered Lavici, and bowed his head in contemplation. He had to build up his nerve for what was about to be done. Even with the Trance’s help in, he had to place his will over his feelings. He did so by pushing deeper and he felt detached, like he was floating above his body. He took a final deep breath and was ready. To cement his resolve, he at once turned to the closest dwelling and with a swift kick, he caved in the door barring his way.
        He did not have to look for long to find the dwelling’s occupants. They gathered in a huddle – pale white and black veined – just beyond the entrance in the common space. They shivered as winter touched their bones. Their eyes watered in fear.
        There were five total – three were children. With cold acceptance and an even deeper push into the Trance, Talinnius heart retched in his chest to a point he had never reached before. He silenced his turmoil and committed to what must be done. With a forward stride, he leveled his swords to bring mercy to their suffering.

IX

        Flames grew from the rowed and slim multi-floored, housing with savage glee. It spread quickly. Black smoke jumped above the leaping flames creating a new dark shade in the night sky, turning it grey as it gained distance and began to settle in a rolling carbon haze over Lavici.
        Talinnius moved through each building mechanically and without thought at the smoke wave’s head. There was no skill needed for what he did. He felt each blow like a hammer in his muscles and took in each sorrowful face as he sent to them to the underworld. Many accepted their fates, which somehow made the whole endeavor worse. He much preferred those who resisted, but they were the pitiful few.
        Being so deep in the Trance, it was as if he were two minds. The buried mind, he normally used, watched in horror as another emotionless mind compelled his body to slaughter the innocents. It all happened in flashes as if his sight turned off between kills, yet he remembered every step, every breath, alongside ever horror he committed in perfect detail. He could not tell if minutes or hours had passed. No Ghouls showed themselves and he began to wish for them to make an appearance – if only to remind him why they were doing this. His wish would come to fruition.

X

        His group spread out as they went about their business and fell from each other’s sight. The killing became methodical, like a chore. Falling into a sense of safety was a human trait even a Champion was totally not immune to. Any other time, this would have not happened, but their wanton slaughter had pushed their them into an introspective melancholy. They all acted without thinking, it was the only way to protect their sanity against the atrocities they committed – no matter how justified their deeds. The Order was made to protect the Empire, and this felt opposite to that.
        Talinnius pushed the latest Lavician from his sword. He was an old man and crumbled to the floor weakly. His light in his eyes faded quickly and his pained expression became soft. He had tried to defend his wife and, what Talinnius could only assume, his granddaughter before he ended up on Talinnius’s sword, but it was a fruitless effort. Talinnius ran the old man through when he had charged from hiding. Talinnius had simply spun to face him – allowing the Lavician’s momentum and weight to do the murderous work. Without remorse, Talinnius watched the life in the old man’s eyes disappear completely and turned to finish those who remained.
        The old man’s wife charged as well and Talinnius gave her a mercy stroke that took her head. She collapsed softly as if she had merely stumbled to the ground. Talinnius took a deep breath in order to stomach the turmoil wanting to breach out from his twisted guts. What he had to do next threatened his morality no matter how many times he repeated the act and it had been many since the slaughter’s start.
        His eyes pulled away from the grandmother and settled on the little girl. Her innocence's was clearly rite upon her face. She had no understanding as to what was taking place. Talinnius wondered if she even fully understood that her grandparents would never rise again. Tears rolled down the girl’s face and she showed no discomfort in their passing – no sting in the eye or twist in her expression. A blank shock left her soft features untwisted by the sorrow that would fill her heart once time passed. Her tears came from the horror that Talinnius’s demonic appearance portrayed.
        Cordia cried out – interrupting him as he lifted his sword to send the small girl away. The cry was hard and not from fear but from exertion. Without thinking, he left the girl and raced out into the street.
        In a nearby alley, Cordia snarled, prone on her back, and did her best to fight off the trashing pale monster – who held her down with its savage strength. She thrust her forearm under its jaw to hold it at bay and prevent its fangs from sinking into her throat. The Ghoul’s jaw chattered hungrily and pressed down with all its might. Inch by inch it brought its fangs closer. She screamed against it, which gave her the strength to push it back an inch. She was losing the fight and the Ghoul immediate redoubled its efforts.
        Talinnius charged with a speed he did not know he had and swung his blade horizontally at the Ghoul’s face. The Ghoul saw his approach at the last second and, with an inhuman effort, it launched backwards from the sword’s edge. The tip narrowly grazed its pale flesh, sending a black blooded ribbon down its Adam's Apple. The Ghoul expressed its frustration as it gathered itself on all fours, like a hissing feline.
        Stepping forward to keep pressure on it, Talinnius pointed his sword towards the Ghoul’s throat. The Ghoul eased away from the blade is if were poisonous. White light emanating from the sword brightened in intensity. Cordia jumped graceful to her feet from her back and aimed her sword in the same way – horizontally, at shoulder height.
        The Ghoul growled and sprang. Even with his Trance heightened senses, Talinnius found the Ghoul was a pale blur in his sight. It impacted him such force that his vision blacked out. He did not feel his feet leave the ground – nor his back slamming against the cobbles.
        His vision came back as adrenaline surged through his veins and the Trance allowed him to control its release into his muscles. He reacted and thrust upwards. The Ghoul moaned and spittle dribbled from its fangs. He slammed his fist into its jaw causing the bone to snap and sag. Only after he realized it was an unnecessary gesture, with his sword was firmly planted in the Ghoul’s chest – hilt deep with the blade pointing from its severed spine. Jet black blood poured onto his hand and his armour seemed to react to its touch. It hummed slightly and seemed to push the tainted life fluid away, similar to oil on water. With a clenched breath, he tossed the Ghoul aside and freed his blade in a roll. His sword burned with more light than he had ever seen and soon the creature’s blood was dislodged from its length – repelling it in a similar manner as his armour. He regarded the Ghoul for a second and then let his blade’s tip lash out against its thin throat, sending a bloody spray across the cobles and up the alley’s wall.
        “Are you okay?” Cordia asked.
        Talinnius met her worried gaze and replied, “I was about to ask the same of you.”
        “How can something so thin and frail be so strong...”
        He wondered the same but did not have an answer. His gaze trailed back to dwelling the Ghoul’s distraction had taken him away from. The little girl stood horrorstruck in the doorway. Talinnius could tell it was not the Ghoul’s corpse that caused the girl’s fright as her eyes were locked with his. With a sigh, he sheathed his sword and freed his head from his helm. The act stole some fear from the girl’s face, but she was far from sure – the shock was leaving, allowing her mind to process what was going on.

        Talinnius approached the girl slowly and careful, like a rancher carefully trying to calm a distressed horse. When he was a few feet away, he knelt so that their eyes were at the same height. He stared into those hazel eyes and wanted nothing more than to let the Trance go and hold her. This did not happen. His face remained unblemished by emotion as if carved from stone.
        “What is happening?” The girl’s voice trembled. “Was that a monster?”
        Talinnius bowed his head slightly and looked back at the dead Ghoul, “Yes, it was a monster.”
        “Why are you here? Why did you hurt my grandparents?”
        “There is a sickness in Lavici,” Talinnius explained calmly.
        “Is that why my dad disappeared?” She asked. If Talinnius could read her mind, he would have known the girl’s father was not a victim of Lavici’s plague. He had left years before for another cause.
        “Likely, yes,” he said softly and stroked her hair with a tender kindness.
        “Is the sickness why my grandma made me stay indoors?”
        “Yes,” Talinnius said. “What is your name, little one?”
        “Auria,” she said meekly. “What is yours?”
        Talinnius took her by the shoulder, and she trembled at his firm touch. For the first time, he noticed feint black veins just visible beneath her pale skin. He replied, sadly, with a whisper, “Talinnius. Your name is very beautiful, Auria.”
        "Thank you, Talinnius." She then asked with a wobble in her voice, “Am I sick?”
        Talinnius nodded.
        “Are you going to kill me?”
        “I need you to be brave now, Auria,” Talinnius whispered.
        She nodded and fresh tears rolled from her eyes.
        Talinnius freed a dagger hidden in his vambrace and placed the tip under the girl’s jaw. Cordia placed a reassuring hand on his arm, but he could not acknowledge it – no matter how much his trapped emotions wanted him too. He pulled away from her and firmed his grip on his dagger’s handle.
        “I am sorry,” he said.
        She accepted her fate without protest. Her life ended in a single upward thrust. Her meek body collapsed into Talinnius’s arms as he freed his weapon. She felt heavy despite being so small...

XI

        Since the encounter with the Ghoul, Talinnius ordered caution those with him, which allowed the fires to catch up as their pace slowed. Smoke trailed and swallowed them as they continued this holocaust. Talinnius ignored the dead faces that haunted his vision’s periphery and kept the ghost images in his mental box with his emotions. With time, he felt he could better understand why these deaths bugged him, whereas no deaths had done so before. But that was a deep thought that we would not consider for some time.
        Traditional housing was replaced by drinking halls and other common use buildings towards the town’s centre. The killing grew more intense. He could tell that the groups of people holed up in the small apartment rooms above the hall’s common room were not native to Lavici. These rooms were normally occupied by traders and other travelers for a few nights at most. In this case they were housing entire family groups and other people for much longer. He confirmed this by gazing over their sorry states. Many had already expired due to sickness, while others appeared ready to do so, but he and the others still ensured either would not rise with a stab to the heart from their swords. Nothing was natural about this situation, yet it felt proper to commit these final mutilations.
        He took a moment to look down the street as he exited the latest cleared building. As he stared, he knew this duty was nearing its end. The smoke gathered around his ankles and swallowed them as the others paired up to clear the next closest hall. Their work was swift and, as they went about it, Talinnius remained outside to keep watch.
        A shutter from a nearby hall’s second story ease open a fraction and Talinnius met the occupant’s eyes. The same plague that savaged the populace was easily recognizable upon the man’s gaunt face and in that moment, knew the man would be the last he would kill this evening. Smoke brushed around Talinnius in a wave – blocking his vision for a few seconds. After it settled, the shutter was closed once more.
        For a reason he could not explain, he felt drawn to the occupant. Whatever the feeling was, he would soon find out – for the occupant’s hall was to be next.

XII

        “It smells wrong,” Cordia announced.
        Talinnius could not disagree. Dust and decay flavoured the air, with feces rounding out the bouquet. Even if there were no smell – the violently shattered door was a sign to be cautious. “I will take the lead,” he said and ignored his urge to draw his second sword.
        With the same stealth he used when approaching the farmhouse, he entered the hall. The interior was cold and dead – as if the very air wanted to suck the warmth from his skin. Chairs were overturned and tables shattered. Dried blood was splattered throughout room, but there were no bodies in sight. This was the first time he saw the aftermath from a Ghoul’s attack since starting this cleansing holocaust and it did not sit well with him. The sheer violence was astounding. Even the violent and wild beasts brought to the Capital throughout the Empire for great spectacle games hosted in Carthirose grand Colosseum seemed tame in comparison.
        He ordered the other Champions with a few sharp waves of his hand, and they fanned out slowly to the room's peripheries. His senses strained to gather everything in, and, after a minute’s silence, he heard an almost suckling sound from behind the bar – very much like a hungry babe at its mother’s breast. There was no need to issue another signal to his fellow Champions, they converged on the noise with him in a seamless manner that only warriors who had spent years together could. He put extra emphasis on controlling his breathing and forced the Ghoul’s twisted features from his mind’s eye. The Trance was slipping...
        The spattered blood grew fresh and wet as he closed with the bar. It was spread everywhere as if a painter had used a brush to flick and spread the crimson everywhere. Coppery iron filled his nose and he snarled at its unpleasant taint. His sword’s point led the way as he rounded the bar’s edge and was unsurprised to find the hall’s occupants. None were whole and few were recognizable. Parts lay discarded and mutilated in messy piles. Their faces were locked in horror by death’s paralyzing embrace. Their rictus misery would hold until their flesh greyed and slipped from their bones.
        A throaty growl emanated in the darkness at his sight’s edge from under the bar. His eyes quickly adjusted to the Ghoul’s silhouette, mostly hidden within the bar’s deeper shadows. It reminded him of a feral dog protecting a bone as it gnawed.
        Slowly, the Ghoul crawled out and reared up onto its legs. All its gruesome unnatural visage could be seen in the faded moonlight that entered the hall from the door. The light also showed its meat swollen belly as if it carried child. Its lips quivered and peeled back revealing blood-soaked fangs. With an ear splitting shriek, it detached its jaw and opened its mouth wide, like a snake readying itself to devouring a rat. Thick muscles bulged in its neck, and they were separated by a silver white flash – ending its shrill cry.
        Talinnius let his sword fall to his side at the same pace that the Ghoul’s head rolled and slowly fell from its shoulders to the ground. He turned without waiting to see the body slump and sheathed his sword. The Ghoul’s body gave a heavy thump behind him. The others ensured they were well away from his path as he marched towards the stairs and his final task in this cursed place.

XIII

        The door attracted him, like a moth to the flame. Talinnius forced himself deeper into the Trance with significant effort. He could not support it indefinitely and his body would give out soon. Still, he pushed forward. There was no way he would be found wanting with the end so near. He felt the dust dancing around him in the air and smelled rot in the open rooms he passed. Those, he left for the others to clear; his mind was only for the door at the hall’s end. With a few long strides the hall passed behind him. He fought the great weight hold his muscles and with effort rested a hand on the door’s handle. Slowly, he exerted pressure on it. It did not move. He took a step back and stared in silence as if were an impenetrable barrier.
        Violently and without warning, he kicked with all his might. The door’s frame cracked. There was an anguished cry on the other side, but he knew it was not directed towards him. His second kick sent the door from its hinges. It clattered over the chair used to block it and crushed the simple furniture piece. Fresh dust rose in a wave. He scanned the room, slowly – methodically. His gaze settled on a thin and sickly young man. The man hovered over an almost skeletal corpse, with thin blonde hair scattered in clumps on the bed – likely the man’s spouse by how he stood protectively over her. Immediately, Talinnius could tell that she was very recently strangled by the pink marks on her throat, which was the only colour in her grey skin aside from the black veins.
        “You killed her?” Talinnius asked.
        “Saved you the trouble,” The man said. His legs wobbled but Talinnius could tell it was not from fear. The man showed all the same corrupted signs as the corpse and was beyond weak. His end would be soon whether Talinnius aided or not. Talinnius found acceptance in the man’s features. The man spoke once more, “I granted her mercy.”
        Talinnius nodded in understanding and for the first time since entering Lavici allowed his humanity to show through, “I am sorry, but thankfully you will join her in the next life.”
        The man dropped to his knees and lifted his hands as if in prayer, “Thank you, Demon... I welcome the end.”
        Talinnius crossed the room and drew his sword. He rested his its tip against the man’s chest – drawing blood in a small bead – and met the man’s eyes with his own. His voice was level, “Thank you for your understanding.”
        “I have seen what happened to the others,” the man said. “I do not want to become that... even if it does not happen to everyone.”
        Talinnius nodded and gripped the man’s shoulder to brace him. It would make the thrust clean. The man closed his eyes in acceptance.
        As Talinnius was about to stab, the female corpse rose slowly into a sitting position and caused him to look her way. Her eyes 0flashed opened and blacker than a moonless night. Her lips rolled back to reveal long fangs. She was a corpse no longer and the Ghoul she had become launched itself at Talinnius. He had no chance to react and crashed against the apartment’s far wall – near where he had entered – by the force from the freshly arisen Ghoul’s charge. The wall caved as it drove him into it with all its strength. He braced against in incredible force with all his might and gritted his teeth until they felt as if they would shatter from the force he exerted onto his clenched jaw.
        A silver white sword flash into the Ghoul’s side. At once the force pinning him to the wall subsided and he had to take a step to balance his weight. The Ghoul gagged on its blood and collapsed as Cordia withdrew her sword.
        Talinnius’s eyes darted to the prone young man and saw no life remaining. Strangely and almost lovingly, the Ghoul used its last dying breath to crawl closer to the man. It flopped to the ground and reached a thin clawed to the man’s chest. A sigh left its lips and somehow it looked more human than creature as its muscles loosened in death. Now that he saw her as human once more, he could tell she would have once been beautiful.
        “Thank you,” he said to Cordia and tentatively made to kneel beside the couple. He could feel Cordia’s emotions and they stirred with his own.
        She did not reply.
        A tear rolled from his eye. The dagger hidden in his vambrace sang as it came free. He pressed its tip under the man’s jaw and thrust upwards into the brain – just to be sure. Another tear fell, and it was followed by others. Whoever these people were, their ravaged bodies told the tale of the plight destroyed everything within sight.
        The Trance slipped, allowing his emotions to flow.

Only one more Chapter and the Epilogue to go! Thank you so much for making it this far! I cannot express my gratitude! Let me know what you think in the comments!

~Brett

Wait if you have not read the previous Chapters, click the Carthirose Saga button above or Click here.

Chapter 18 - Paulus

I

        A scream sliced through the night with a sword’s fury.
        Paulus shot up. He became dizzy from both the sudden movement as well as the fever taking hold once more. His stomach wanted to empty, but he had enough strength to hold the acidic bile in.
        All was silent now. Maybe it had been his imagination. A nightmare...
        His blood froze – so cold that not even the fever could heat it. Another wail followed and lingered longer than the first. It was laced with both fear and pain. As the scream died out, a gale picked up in its wake causing the apartment’s shutters to rattle.
        His nether tingled and he hissed a swear. There was no way he wanted to get up to relive himself. Whatever was happening was bad. He knew it in his core. His chest twisting with fright as if his heart was ready to stop. Slowly, his need overwhelmed his fear and he never wished for a chamber pot more. In his distraction, after Aemilia was attacked, he had forgotten to get one from the hall’s keeper. Now that the town was locked down, he doubted he would have the chance. The hall had a common latrine that he could use – it was upstairs at the furthest end from the apartment.
        With a groan, he rolled his feet from the bed and stood. Even with his need’s urgency, he had to remain still to allow his head to catch up with his body. Again, it swam and spun. Soon his need overwhelmed the fever, and his weakness was somewhat dispelled. He regained some balance and with careful steps, he made for the door. His bladder screamed in protest now that he was moving, and his eyes watered in his fight. Whimpering, he opened the apartment door and raced along the balcony.

II

        It seemed Paulus was not the only one awoken by the screams. The hall’s few other residences tentatively milled around with subdued panic in their eyes. Paulus paid them no heed and shuffled to the latrine – doing his best to keep his distance from the other pale and sickly residences. He was about halfway to his destination when the hall’s door flung open. There was gravity to that event, and Paulus stopped his sojourn to view what was about to transpire as if in anticipation.
        A town’s guard rushed in and slammed the door behind him. He stumbled away from the hall’s entrance but, after a moment's thought, rushed back to lock its latch. He was drenched in blood, but Paulus could not till if any was his own. There was something wrong with how he moved. It was at once both strong and weak. For some reason, a rabbit ready spring away in flight came to mind. The guard’s hands trembled, and his sword wobbled in the grip, but its tip never wavered away from the door’s frame.
        The guard’s terrible shape cause Paulus to forget his own plight. Fear was growing ready to explode in his chest, and it held him frozen. All he could do was watch from the balcony and imagine pale skinned monsters crawling towards the hall’s doors, getting ready to claw their way in by sundering the barrier. Unfortunately, he felt his imagination was probably right.
        “What’s happening,” One onlooker asked sheepishly over the balcony.
        The guard did not reply. He just continued to back away from the door. His eyes never left the door, even as he stumbled into the unused chairs and tables in the common area. The atmosphere became hushed – it was as if no one dared to breathe.
        Paulus stood as still and mute as the other onlookers. The guard’s heavy exhalations were the only disturbance in the serenity needed to keep the present calm. With a thunderbolt’s fury, an elderly man – close to the latrine – coughed. If there had been any other noise, the cough would have gone unnoticed. Unfortunately, it signaled the coming storm.

III

        The door rocked on its frame. Dust puffed out from between the wood’s veins with the sudden assault’s violence. A splintering score sounded immediately after – a sound Paulus had heard Bantius’s claws make on the wood floors at his farm. Again, the door bulged and somehow remained upright, despite the snap that cut through the air. Cracks ran the door’s length as it settled back into its original shape with a groan. A hungry cry followed, similar to a hungry child’s frustrated wail but with an adult’s depth.
        Paulus felt his trousers grow warm and wet. The sensation flowed to his feet, and he did not readily realize the cause. At any other time, he would have been twisted with anger. He was a grown man and relieving oneself in their trousers was as foreign as a language never heard before. On this occasion, he did not care. His complete attention was on the failing door and its inability to shield the hall’s inhabitants.
        With a savage crack that seemed wholly impossible considering the damage already dealt, the door exploded with such force that the guard was taken from his feet. Adrenaline cleared the shock from Paulus’s mind, and he saw the sickly pale-white fleshed thing bent over the prone guard. He moved before anyone else knew what to do. Sprinting with more vigour than he should have been able to muster in his current state, he flew towards his apartment. From his eye’s periphery, he saw the guard’s blood spew across the floor. The thing twisted its maw clamped on the guard’s neck with ravenous abandon – sending more rich viscera across the room in violent sprays.
        Paulus slammed the apartment’s door just as more pale things snaked their way in. He latched it securely and raced to further bar the entrance with a chair. Screams reverberated through the walls as the other residents’ shock subsided enough to realize the horror in their midst. He pressed himself against the door, pushing against it with all his might. He could only guess at what the shouting and crashing that followed meant. For some reason, it felt distant – even though whatever was happening was just on the door’s other side. His complete focus and remaining strength were transferred to not letting anything in.

IV

        Silence reigned for a while. Paulus was not sure how long, but it was long enough for him to become comfortable with letting his weight free from the door. Sweat jumped from his brow and raced down his back, inducing a shiver. He addressed his mostly dry trousers and wash his chaffed thighs. A haze filled the room, and he could smell faint carbon in the air.
        Tentatively, he softly walked to the window and opened the shutters a sliver. Smoke rose from Lavici’s limits and was creeping inwards as if it had a sentient all-consuming mind. He stepped away from the shutters and was apathetic to it all. After everything, he finally ready to accept defeat. With a sigh, he turned on his unsteady feet and shuffled towards the bed, where Ameilia breathed shallowly and wheezed with ever exhale.
        He coughed and tasted bloody iron. He felt so weak and tired; more so than ever before. Just then, he caught his reflection. He did not recognize the pale and gaunt face looking back at him. He studied his arms and hands – astonished to see the malnourished muscles barely hiding his bones. The black veins had stretched well beyond his wrists, webbed up his arms, and across his entire frame. They were just beginning to sprout around his eyes.
        With a fear laden heart, he looked back towards Aemilia. She too bore little resemblance to the person he had fallen in love with. Glossy and pale corpse skin covered her frame, and she looked more like a skeleton than a woman. Her once voluminous blond hair was silver and thin. Strands littered her pillow and clumped on the floor. Only the black veins gave her any colour. They moved, and their throbbing had become urgent.
        Paulus knew this was the end. Whether from his own acceptance or intuition, he did not have the mind to know why. Maybe it was his own faded strength. He felt ready to give in and take his leave. He had fought and fought hard since he found Bantius in the woods. It all felt for not. Aemilia was going to die, and he was soon to follow. Worse yet, he knew she would transform as Bantius had. He did not know how he knew that, but he did. It was a certainty – like a blue-sky on a warm summer day or the ocean’s tides.
        He could not let it happen...
        With a sigh, he turned back to the window. The smoke was visible on the street now and was creeping ever closer to the hall. He caught something new standing at its perimeter and shuffled back to the window to get a closer look. It was covered in black armour and only bore a resemblance to a human. It was not, however. Its skeletal face grin was in full view despite the smoke and was on full detail despite how its dark aspect blended in with the night that touched it. It held two silver-white swords that seemed to glow with their own light and not that given to them from the few remaining lamps in the street.
        Paulus felt a fresh fear take his weakened heart. This new thing was something different from the creatures that destroyed Lavici and his farm. It was an anathema to them, but further down in darkness’s depths. The Gods sent a Demon to dispatch the abominations that had destroyed him, his wife, and all he had ever known.
        Smoke rolled around the Demonic figure, only barely disguising it. He could still make out its outline and the silhouettes of others in the grey forming around the first. They seemed to push the smoke before them like a shroud.

V

        Thick grey smoke rolled through the streets quicker than before as if it were a living thing, like a locus swarm seeking to consume everything within their path. An orange glow emanated from deep within the cloud at its heart and lit the sky red. The flames were now visible on night’s backdrop, and they dispelled the stars with their glow.
        The dark figures stalked through the haze. Screams announced their advance as they entered each building with a discipline that seemed inhuman. Fiery white light flashed with each swing their unholy lit swords made, and the shrill cries died as suddenly as they began. Their work was quick, it only took them minutes to clear a building before moving onwards to the next. It was as dispassionate as it was economical and efficient.
        Paulus watched the grey carbon wave wash over the hall’s lower levels and felt a lump rise in his throat. He coughed to clear it, knowing the smoke was not its cause. He knew what he had to do and just the thought ripped his heart from his chest. He was resolute.
        A figure approached from beyond the smoke – waiting for its peers. His eyes met its as it focused its gaze upon him.
        He guessed at what they sought and turned to his wife...

Thank you for reading! The end is coming of this first part is coming!

~Brett

Wait if you have not read the previous Chapters, click the Carthirose Saga button above or Click here.

Chapter 17 - Talinnius

I

        The road was dry and dusty. Summer had reached its peak and the sun blared down on his black steel armour causing him to sweat profusely. Normally, this would have never discomforted him, but Talinnius’s mind was set on his mission and filled with woe. Somehow, he knew Veturius was still alive – which was a relief. Yet, he also suspected he and those who followed him where racing into a trap and Veturius was the bait.

II

        Talinnius narrowed his eyes at the scene that played out around him. Rainfall had been sparse – something not unusual for this time of year – which meant crops were bound to suffer. That, however, did not explain the devastated land as far as he could see. The transformation was slow at first. Everything green slowly shifted to yellow as they drove their mounts hard down the road; then it shifted to brown towards first day’s sunset, and finally a decayed black by mid-morning on the second.
        As they rested their mounts during the second day, he walked off the road to examine the rot. Grey lifeless soil managed to hold the dead plant stalks up, despite how loose it was and how it crumbled at his touch. The sky was an unnatural red as if derived from an artist’s hellish vision. Talinnius could only guess at explaining the phenomenon; it likely had something to do with the dust twisting the sun’s light. For a moment, he imagined he was back in the underworld talking to Achamus – yet this was far worse.
        He let the soil pass through his armoured fingers and watched it become ash-like in the air. He pushed up from a kneel and turned back to his mount. Cordia’s worried glare caught his own and he did his best to steel himself for her. The whole group held a tension he had never seen in his fellow Champions before. Worse, he shared their unease. What could cause such devastation so quickly? 

        His eyes closed and he entered the Trance. There was no choice, he had to remain disconnected from this wholly unnatural disaster. He would not be distracted from his goal. He would find Veturius. And save him.
        He settled back onto his mount and spoke in an even voice, “Enter the Trance.”
        As one the party closed their eyes and inhaled deeply. Most were veterans and were able to take on the meditative state after a breath or two. A few were less seasoned and took longer to adopt the Trance’s full mental state. All were ready in no more than a few seconds and, as if signaled, Talinnius rode forward into the new wasteland that encompassed the horizon as far as the rolling hills would allow him to see.

III

        A figure dressed in black stood alone on the horizon. Talinnius could just make out figure’s form and his eyes narrowed in distrust. A skeletal grin that matched his helmet’s own was reflected in the red tinted light as the figure turned to stride casually into a nearby farmhouse. He knew the figure was not Veturius by the way it moved. It felt off, in some way he could not fully explain. Somehow, it did not feel like a man, despite not moving so differently from he or any Champion in his party. He knew that this was where the trail ended. The mystery would be solved soon. Veturius was in that farmhouse, with this thing. He set a grueling pace to cover the remaining distance.

IV

        Talinnius drew a sword as he dismounted. Its silver-white sheen seemed more intense than normal. He held the weapon loosely at his side and signaled for the others to stay with his free hand. Cordia made to protest, but his eyes bore no room for argument.
        Quietly and carefully, he approached the farmhouse. His caution did not matter as the crows lining the roof announced his presence with their avian screams. They stared with black eyes, and it felt like they were calling his name.
        “Talinnius,” They cawed, “Talinnius.”
        He wanted nothing more than to throw something to make them scatter.
        The farmhouse was a retched and old thing. The stones that made its foundation were aged and cracked, while the wood that made its structure was splintered and as grey as the soil. It seemed whatever death had taken the land was not content with just the crops and soil, for the house looked ready to collapse. No light reached inside its shattered windows and even webs that lined the frames’ corners looked dead. It was an ill begotten place and would have turned any sane person away. Yet, Talinnius felt no hesitation as he approached. His mind was firmly in the Trance and his soul anticipated Veturius was inside. He knew it as a fact. No force in the world would prevent him from saving his childhood friend and fellow Champion.
        His plate sabatons were silent as he ascended each stone step to the farmhouse’s decrepit porch. He very much expected whoever took Veturius was waiting in anticipation, but his stealth came from a trained habit that could not be undone; even if he were on a battlefield – surrounded by soldiers in their thousands – he would move in the same silent fashion. Silent, like an angelic reaper from the myths.
        The door screamed its protest from its rusty hinges as he pushed against it softly. His sharp eyes scanned the room beyond, checking every shadowy corner and hiding space for the figure. There were no signs and even the dust remained impossibly undisturbed. It looked as if no one had been in this house for decades. Still, he entered carefully and leveled his sword horizontally at his hip – ready to thrust into any attacker.
        The floorboards sought to creak with each footfall, but his skill denied them their cry. Not even the air was disturbed as he moved with a ghost’s presence. His eyes darted back and forth, continuously searching for threats he might have missed or new ones that would presented themselves. His ears stretched and quested for any sounds that were abnormal to his surroundings. Even fully covered in plate armour, his skin and hair follicles picked out the subtle movements in the air. With each breath, he decoded the musk and other scents – searching for anything beyond the normal.
        None of his skill prepared him for the black gauntleted hand that took his throat.
        Talinnius almost lost the Trance and his consciousness as he was thrown through a nearby wall. He did not feel the impact through the feeble, age decrepit, wood and tumbled gracelessly across the floor. He shifted his weight, and his legs were spun to brace against his momentum. His feet and free hand dug into arrest stop his sprawl. He came to rest next to a prone and unconscious Veturius.
        Instinct took hold. He was not slow to rise, but whatever had thrown him was quicker. A sword – identical to his own – hammered towards his head and his arm shook with the force it took to knock the blow aside. The figure was a blurred shadow in the grey light and Talinnius could not pick out its edges. It moved so quick that it felt insubstantially and even though he was aware it was in the room with him, it did not activate his senses. Only intuition kept him alive as he batted away another blow aimed at his hip.
        “You are well taught, Untouched,” A voice that sounded like two speaking over one another said from the darkness.
        This time Talinnius saw the incoming blow. He again deflected it but did so with grace and drew his second sword – letting it lash out in a wide gut level slash. With a step forward, he made to begin the circles. He was not given the chance. A fist sent him reeling to the ground and a kick sent him flying through a nearby beam. The roof collapsed around him as he slammed against the floor but at last, he saw his opponent. Although it looked exactly like a Champion, it felt like something completely different. Something not human. The armour moved with a fleshy consistency, rather than the rigid steel and was wet as if streaked with sweat. Long bone claws were perfectly melded from the black metal that covered its gauntleted fingers. Its spiked teeth, which made up its helms skeletal grin, chattered as if it was tasting his pain, and the helm bore an altogether more sinister expression than his own helm. Red and orange eyes with an inferno’s fury cut the dark, similar to an apex predator. In every way, it felt more alive, which was abnormal because it smelled like death.
        “Do not think you can harm us, Untouched,” It growled in a voice that was both angry and icy calm, “Men better than you have tried – their flesh and bones feed worms and dirt now.”
        Talinnius remembered to breathe and sucked air in through clenched teeth. Even with the Trance allowing him to ignore the pain, his body was slow to rise. He felt like he was pushing against an ocean’s tide just moving in this thing's presence.
        “What are you?” He demanded, projecting more strength than he had.
        “What are we?” It asked. As it came into the feint light that was barely able to reach into the room, its mouth moved as if two beings occupied the same space at once. One was solid, with the same steel helm that Talinnius wore, while the one that spoke as if a specter held the same space and the ghost-like mouth moved impossibly wide and twisted its helm’s metal like skin. “We are a Slayer of those who stray from the Gods path. Your elders should have taught you about the world you come from, Untouched. You wear armour you do not understand and attempt to fight like your betters with naught but foolish breathing.”
        “In the Gods names, I have no idea what you are talking about, and I find myself not caring...” Talinnius straightened and leveled his swords, “I came for my friend. Let Veturius go.”
        It looked towards Veturius and said, “You mean this one?”
        “I do,” Talinnius said and tightened his grip on his swords.
        “Because of his armour, we thought he would attract his betters,” It said, “Unfortunately, disappointment is our reward.”
        “Disappointment?”
        “Untouched.”
        “What do you mean by Untouched!?” Talinnius spat.
        It turned and began to pace. Again, Talinnius was again struck by how it appeared to have two figures overlaid, one atop another. It was as if a ghost hovered over its physical from and moved a fraction slower or faster.
        “We need your help,” It finally said as if reluctant to ask.
        “Why should I help you?”
        It turned on him and narrowed its burning eyes, “The land decays and you ask us why? Do you not see the signs, Untouched!? How pathetic you are.”
        Talinnius felt like he had to brace himself against the fury in its voice but stood defiant. His strength ebbed against its sheer aura, as if the very air sucked his muscle’s strength. But he held true, like a rock standing tall against the ocean’s waves. He was forced to grit his teeth as air assailed him in a physical wave.
        “You will help us,” It continued, “because we will start with this one.” It pointed at Veturius with its sword. “Then,” It lifted the sword to point towards a wall where the other Champion’s outside remained outside, “And then we will kill each of them, one at a time, while making you watch. We will pluck your arms and legs from your body like and insect, saving you until the end.”
        “I won’t let you,” Talinnius said and took a step forward against the onslaught pulsing against him.
        It laughed with a low and dark mirth; there was no humour in the sound. Then, it was silent as if it never made a sound and was across the room faster than Talinnius’s eyes could follow. Its hand reached for his throat and suddenly, he felt light as his feet left the floor.

V

        Talinnius was swimming from the ocean’s depths, denying its dark and drowning oppression. He reached the surface and came back to consciousness. He was rolling sideways. His body reacted before his mind, and he flared out his elbows to slow his momentum. He was surprised to find his swords were still firmly in his hands after temporarily blacking out. As he came to a stop and braced his knees under him – coming to a kneel – he saw Veturius limp form land beside him, in an unceremonious ragdoll’s tumble.
        “Talinnius!” He heard Cordia cry.
        All twenty Champions dismounted with grace and drew their weapons to the ready. 

        He waved them back and called, “I am okay!”
        Veturius moaned. It was as if he was finally allowed to awaken now that he was outside the truly demonic figure’s choking presence. Talinnius wanted to check on him, but his eyes were drawn back to the farmhouse. From the hole in the farmhouse’s exterior wall that his body no doubt created, the figure casually walked out with the calm force before a hurricane. For the first time, he recognized the unsheathed sword at its hip and anger twisted his gut.
        “Where did you get that!?” He stood and shifted into an aggressive stance with both his swords aimed at it.
        It followed Talinnius gaze and looked at the sword in its clawed hand, before resuming its stride, “Do you think it belongs to you, Untouched?”
        “Achamus is my master, creature,” Talinnius spat. “That is his sword...”
        It paused and bowed its head, as if in thought. The burning eyes lifted and narrowed, “Perhaps, we do not have to kill you all. Perhaps, we can make an arrangement.”
        “What do you mean?” Talinnius said through clenched teeth.
        It freed Achamus’s sword scabbard from its belt and sheathed the sword. With an almost casual neglect it tossed the sword to Talinnius’s feet, “The sword is yours, for your help.”
        Disbelief made Talinnius’s face twist. He was fully prepared to die for his master’s sword and his fellow in that moment. Now the blade lay at his feet without opposition and the violent tension in the air subsided.

        He met the figure’s fiery eyes and for the first time recognized the creature for what it was... a Demon. Not the moniker given to Champion’s by foreign nations, for their prowess with the sword and ability to push further than any other in battle, but a true Demon...
        With a calm he did not know he could possess – especially, considering the circumstances – he sheathed his swords and picked up Achamus’s. He admired it and felt closer to his master – even closer than he felt when he saw his master a few days ago in the ocean of blood.
        A doubt ebbed into his mind.
        How did it get the sword? Talinnius thought.
        He decided to keep his feelings reserved. If this thing, this Demon, knew how to stop the lands destruction he would help it for now. Now that he had a moment to think, Carthirose was under attack by whatever was destroying the land and he felt compelled to put the Empire’s needs first. Furthermore, if this Demon did play a part in Achamus’s death, he had no chance defeating it face to face. He was by no means giving up. This Demon was a threat, but he needed time to learn it. He decided to bide his time for now.
        “For this gift, I and my Champions will aid you, Demon,” Talinnius vowed.
        The Demon sinister teeth twisted up into its inhuman grin.
        It said, “Good.”

Thanks for reading! We are nearing the end! If you like the story, please share with other so more can enjoy it as well!

~Brett