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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
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.
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.
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.
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 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
IV
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!” 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.
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!
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
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