Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (16 page)

Serraemas slowed his momentum and halted as one
of the shadowy figures stepped in front of him, attempting to bar
his path. Their bodies shifted like a flickering flame, their
essence was as dark as night, and instead of hands they touted
sharp claws.

The shadowy figure lunged at Serraemas with its
arm raised, but he sidestepped the attack and brought down his
staff in a quick motion. The strike cleaved the figure in two, and
its essence dissipated into the air with a shriek. Their bodies
seemed solid—much like flesh and bone—but vanished into the air
like smoke when slain. Serraemas looked in the direction that his
target stood, but was blocked again as more of the strange entities
joined the fray. He crouched to spring into action—

A barrage of arrows flew past his head and
buried themselves into the chests of his adversaries. As his foes
vanished much like the first, Serraemas turned his head in the
direction where the bolts came from.

Atop the roof of one of the structures was
Erendil, expertly loosing arrow after arrow at their enemies with
deadly accuracy. However, these weren't normal arrows—they were
made out of pure energy and emanated an aura of darkness, much like
the foes they faced.

---

Erendil nodded at Serraemas before continuing
his assault from above.

Finally he could fight alongside my
brethren
.
He had heard his elemental when they sat in the
tavern. Akaba, as it called itself, whispered words of power to
Erendil, enlightening him with the ability he now possessed.

Upon chanting the words, he was awestruck to
discover that his standard bow was replaced with one much more
intricate in form. It became longer, thicker, and had formed a
circular guard that covered his hand and acted as a small shield.
What was most interesting, however, was that a swirling vortex
hovered just above the guard, almost absorbing Erendil as he gazed
into its depths.

To his satisfaction the incantation was not just
for show, as his previously ordinary arrows were imbued with the
power of his element. He could generate as many as he pleased, and
they were considerably more powerful than his normal wooden arrows.
According to Akaba they also drained the essence of those they
pierced, boosting Erendil's speed and agility while decreasing that
of his foes.

Just as quickly as it had introduced itself,
however, his elemental parted without another word. Now he could
only feel its presence again as it withdrew from his mind. He
yearned to learn and interact more with it. He had so much to say
and ask, but he would have to wait.

Regardless of the circumstances, Erendil was
grateful for the gift and the opportunity to aid his allies. These
minions appeared to be beings of pure evil intent on destroying the
beauty of Ashkar, and he was more than happy to vanquish them. He
could feel that their very souls—or lack thereof—were hollow and
devoid of any virtue. Their auras radiated a deep malevolence that
troubled him greatly.

Erendil paused for a moment to survey the ground
below, shifting his attention to Raxxil. He was in awe at the
prowess the hammer-wielder displayed; much like before, Raxxil
fought with both blazing speed and an incredible strength. He was
surrounded by swarms of the strange entities, yet Erendil could
hear his hysterical laughter as he killed scores of them.

Raxxil seemed content with just using his own
fists, and decided to keep his hammer slung on his back. At first
glance his companion would seem like a crude brawler, but now he
knew that Raxxil's movements were focused and deadly.

Raxxil stepped forward, his garment fluttering
as he moved, and punched one of the figures downward into the
ground. Its form vanished as a loud thud resounded. He then whirled
around, anticipating the advances of another attempting to flank
him. He grabbed its arm as it flung at him, raising it above him
before slamming it into one of its allies. Both of them shrieked as
they left this world. A trio of minions attempted to lunge at him
simultaneously from all sides—

Raxxil outmatched them greatly. He rushed
forward to the one on his left, thrusting his torso forward and
bringing his head slightly down. He then head-butted the figure on
its head and sent it flying. A loud crack resounded above the
clanging of metal and shouts of men, and the monster dissipated
before it hit the ground.

Without pause, Raxxil sidestepped as one of the
minions tried to attack from behind. He grabbed its arm with his
left hand, pulled it toward him, and swung with his right arm.
Another crack and another corpse soared through the air. The final
monster attempted to use the opportunity to attack from the side,
but once again Raxxil was too quick. The fiery elementalist swiftly
kicked the demon in the stomach with his left leg, and the shadowy
entity slumped onto its knees as it clutched its abdomen. With
another kick from his right, Raxxil cheered triumphantly and the
minion was no more.

Despite the onslaught, their numbers grew by the
second and they continued to converge on Raxxil. He did not seem to
mind the increasing horde, and he continued to pummel them into
oblivion one-by-one. Judging by his toothy grin, he seemed to
welcome their unending numbers.

Admittedly, Erendil wasn't too surprised at
Raxxil's demeanor.

Erendil heard shouts coming from several
directions and looked around. He noticed that the commotion had
alerted several of the villagers, and some were even joining the
fray with whatever weapons they had. Not only that, but he noticed
a group of armored soldiers charging out of the tavern they were
just in. They drew their blades and rushed to the battle as
well.

At this point, the entire village was a
battleground.

Erendil even observed the odd costumed man from
before joining the battle. He seemed to have awakened from his
unconsciousness and decided to participate, though he was having
trouble with just one of the shadowy figures. In fact, he had
already sustained several injuries and his costume was torn at
several places, but he was stoic and refused to back down.

The hordes of dark minions continued to
multiply, and Erendil wondered where they all came from. When they
had first entered the village, he sensed the dark energy throughout
the entire premise. Now, he realized that it must have been the
many enemies they now fought. He looked over at their apparent
source, and the bearded man named Aramal casually stood behind a
wall of his minions. The man's face was contorted in sinister
pleasure, chuckling at something Erendil did not know. It seemed as
though he reveled in destruction much like Raxxil.

Where is the fulfillment in dealing
dea—
?

A shadowy arm swiped at him, but Erendil
reflexively dodged it and jumped back several paces; focused on the
actions of others, Erendil had not noticed several of the minions
converging on the roof that he stood on. They lurched after him
with malevolent intent as their mischievous giggles filled the air.
Erendil quickly loosed a barrage of arrows and struck them all with
precision, and their forms dissipated completely.

He looked around and ensured that his immediate
surroundings were clear, then shifted his attention back to the
battlefield. While the three of them were able to handle the
minions quite easily, the monsters appeared to be overwhelming the
villagers. Several people had already fallen to the wicked attacks
of their enemies. Even the armored soldiers were having difficulty
as well, though they appeared to be elementalists like himself;
Erendil noticed a few of them slinging elemental-based attacks.

Erendil also noticed several children that had
stepped out of their homes and were now in danger. Steeling
himself, he quickly pulled his bow and marked his targets. Time
slowed as he concentrated his aim, then loosed another volley of
arrows. They rained down on his opponents, particularly those that
were near the vulnerable villagers. He continued to nock arrows as
fast as he could trying to keep up with the hordes of enemies that
continued to assault the villagers.

Unfortunately, his efforts seemed futile as
their numbers kept rising.

Is there no end to these monsters?

He looked over at his companions for an answer,
but was surprised to see that Raxxil had ceased his onslaught. The
hammer-wielder seemed frozen completely while a swarm of the
shadowy minions converged on him in all directions.

Erendil furrowed his brows, attempting to
discern what was happening. He shifted his gaze briefly to
Serraemas, but the icy elementalist was focused on his battle with
the stranger and unaware of the situation. Erendil crouched before
pushing off with his legs, leaping in the direction of Raxxil. He
continued to fire arrow after arrow in mid-air, descending to the
battlefield as he soared gracefully in a wide arc. He rolled as he
hit the ground, and let loose another arrow at point blank range at
a shadowy monster as he stood up.

He stood just a few paces away from Raxxil, who
was still immobilized and now on his hands and knees. Erendil
noticed that the hammer-wielding man was staring ahead at
something—something past the hordes of demonic visages that in turn
stared at
him
with murderous intent—but Raxxil paid them no
heed.

Erendil attempted to make his way to his fiery
ally. The archer released a barrage of arrows at his enemies,
evading their attacks acrobatically as he neared the other
elementalist. The twisted shadows fought with fanatic vigor, but
Erendil was able to fend them off—for now, at least.

Getting nearer to where Raxxil lay, Erendil was
able to view what his companion stared at. Bewildered, Erendil saw
that the man's gaze was fixated upon a child who was cowering alone
by one of the homes.

"Tanaria?!" roared Raxxil in confusion as the
swarm of shadow minions converged on him, completely blocking off
Erendil's view of his enthralled ally.

---

Serraemas looked at his fiery partner, noting
that the latter was reveling in the chaos.

Raxxil took on multiple enemies simultaneously,
punching and kicking them down in scores. While these demons proved
worthless, Serraemas was still certain that their target was
withholding his power. Instead, Aramal stood behind his small army
and continued to beckon at Serraemas.

Such arrogance, yet still a coward?

“This seems like unusual behavior for a man like
him”, said Serraemas to his elemental.

"What do you mean?" asked Zaranet from
within.

“He seems afraid to confront us even though he
has summoned reinforcements”, continued Serraemas.

“Perhaps he is weary from his battle with
Jorne”, said his elemental.

“Possibly, but I surmise a different reason”,
Serraemas responded.

Dozens of the shadowy minions circled around
him, preparing to strike—

Serraemas was quicker. He twisted his body and
twirled his staff, sweeping the area around him with forceful
strength. His enemies dispersed into nothingness with pained
shrieks. With each maneuver, he closed the gap between him and his
goal. To his dismay, however, there seemed to be no end to these
minions. Several dozen more still barred his path with even more
continuing to join the fray.

"Shall we release?" asked Zaranet.

"No, we need to gauge him first", Serraemas
responded. Intensifying his efforts, he dashed forward in long
strides gracefully and swung his weapon in wide arcs. Scores of the
demonic enemies fell under his blows, unable to react fast enough
to evade. He would kill a thousand if need be, but he
would
reach the target and accomplish the mission—of that he was certain.
The stranger seemed unconcerned at Serraemas's advances, and the
man's arrogance would be his downfall.

Serraemas halted his steps with grace as a shady
minion swiped in his path preemptively, its demonic visage jeering
at him with an open maw. Seizing the opportunity a group of the
monsters lunged at the staff-wielder—

Before they could react they were struck down by
a volley of dark arrows. Pained cries echoed around him as they
disappeared. Taking advantage of the opportunity once again
provided by the scaly-skinned archer, Serraemas steeled himself and
dashed after his target once more, who was now only a few dozen
feet away.

Swarms of the shadowy minions still closed in
and sought to spill his blood. Serraemas jumped forward and vaulted
in the air, bringing down his staff in a vertical arc and cleaving
another minion in two as he landed. He then lunged forward several
feet, thrusting his weapon's tip in front of him. Stopping once
again, he swung in a wide circle, and the shrieks of slain enemies
continued to fill the air.

Nearing his target, Serraemas generated a sliver
of ice mid-stride and whipped his arm, sending it flying at the
bearded man. It pierced through several shadowy minions on its way
toward Aramal. Surprised, he uncrossed his arms and reached to his
side, deflecting the sliver as he hastily drew his blade.

Serraemas examined the man's weapon. It was a
standard broadsword, though it was covered in pure darkness from
end-to-end, as if it had been taken over by the shadowy aura. Oddly
enough the man panted heavily, winded from something Serraemas did
not know. Age seemed to be at his disadvantage, or perhaps it was
something else?

"Now everyone wants the book", blurted Aramal.
"You want the book as well? What a surprise. I knew that cloak
looked familiar. Well guess what? I killed your frie—"

Serraemas waved his arm and loosed another ice
spike at the man, but Aramal was quick and deflected the attack
again.

The stranger scowled at him. "You dare interrupt
me, boy? I was speaking—"

Again Serraemas did not give him the chance to
finish, lunging closer and generating three slivers in midair. He
then twisted and whipped his arms as he landed, sending all three
flying after Aramal. Shock flashed across the man's face, the
spikes too close to evade or deflect—