Divided (89 page)

Another tendril wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him
harder than his efforts forward, and his feet slid in the muddy grass.  Another
caught about his thigh, and he let out a shocked cry.  The pain was unending,
and blood bubbled into his throat with response to the pain that every one of
the new extensions of his body were creating.  He kept reaching forward, trying
to move his legs, even as his knees attempted to buckle. 

He couldn’t keep fighting.  Why hadn’t he thought more
clearly about the request he’d made?  She’d obviously had to obey it, and yet, he
had completely neglected himself.  The explosive, unrelenting pain was quickly
sucking at his consciousness.  “Give up, Taeru… nothing can save you now.”

He sunk to one knee, grinding his teeth as he kept trying to
move forward, failing.  Staring towards the edge of the grove, though, a rather
unexpected form entered his vision.  A white horse, and someone on the white
horse—with blond hair.  Calis.  Taeru’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in
shock.  His hand instinctively outstretched towards the figure that was nowhere
within his grasp.  Their eyes met a beat later, and shock riddled across
Calis’s features.

The Telandan prince kept moving on his horse for a few more
paces, and inevitably, he drew his sword, never stopping.  A few more pulls, though,
and Taeru could feel his body slipping, slowly—and then more quickly.  He
reached frantically still, needing Calis with more desperation than ever
before.  “Calis!” the word slipped through his lips before he could stop it.

Calis was clutching his sword, and he looked sick, sick and
very angry.  “Taeru!”  A final tendril wrapped around the wrist of Taeru’s
outstretched hand though, and that single hold was enough to yank him with full
force backwards until his body slammed with a jolt of pain so strong that his
body convulsed as it hit the crucifix.  He let out another cry of torment as
the branches snaked around his arms, both against the edges of the black
crucifix, and his legs were bound as well, together and against the black hum
of agony behind him. 

He jerked his head, eyes wide as he glanced to one of his
arms, pulling against the restraints to no avail.  Terrible synapses of agony
wracked his body, and he could feel them twisting around his mind like the
tendrils did around his body.  His waist, his arms, his legs.  Strangely, there
was a squeezing sensation, or perhaps it only felt that way because the torture
converged into a single, torrential pulse so that his mind was left with an
aftershock of disbelief.  Finally, he glanced towards Calis, who was still
there, still trying to get to him, but far too far away to reach the obelisk
before Taeru was going to faint.  “C-Calis…” he choked, certainly too low.

Calis’s face was so desperately twisted with anguish that Taeru
choked, remembering Calis’s words in the cabin.  He had ignored the one person
for whom he cared the most deeply.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.  Then, the
Cathalari’s eyelids lowered as the pain became too heavy to bear, and his head
dropped while darkness swarmed his mind.

“He could not account for that which he could not see.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.ii

Calis’s horse would not carry him fast enough, nothing could
have carried him fast enough.  His heart felt as though a sword had been driven
through it as he watched Taeru’s body slammed back into that horrible thing. 
“Taeru!”  He screamed, even as he watched Taeru fighting to get free, fighting
but weakening.  The lightning that had been swarming the obelisk, that had
vanished moments before Calis had reached the grove, reappeared to wrack across
Taeru’s body as the bindings held him against the black horror. 
No, no, no…

The blue eyes found Calis another time, and he could see the
shock and pain slowly giving way to exhaustion.  Taeru stared at Calis, pleading
with his eyes, and inevitably, Calis’s name was on his lips—begging.  Calis
couldn’t force Talon to move with enough speed to reach him.  Then, as Taeru’s
head dropped, a pain so overwhelming shot through Calis that had the situation
been any less desperate, he would have collapsed under the weight of it.  As it
was, however, he kept moving. 

Even as Taeru was bound against the crucifix, body limp
under all the stress, Calis screamed for him.  “Taeru!”  Calis cried again,
digging his heels harder into Talon.  He was nearly there, but his body and his
mind both knew that he would not be in time.  The moment he leapt off his
horse, stumbling only once but never stopping, as he tore in the direction of
Taeru’s motionless body, a movement shook the wood.  

Then, just before Calis could reach out and touch Taeru, the
purple crystal—the one that had been opened like a trap—slammed inwards,
crushing against Taeru’s body.  Just as it did, Calis’s sword clanged against
the rocky substance.  “No!”  But the crystal didn’t crush Taeru, despite the
fact that he was entirely enveloped by the violet mass.  Rather, it contained
him, separating him from Calis by a disturbing mass of purple and black as
energies rolled through the obstruction, around Taeru’s imprisoned form. 
“TAERU!”  Calis’s body shook with such torment that he screamed, a raw,
unexpected scream, and his sword slammed against the crystal—over and over.

Nothing happened, though, and he remained just an arm’s
length from the only person he’d ever loved.  His sword kept moving though,
slamming again and again against the unmoving crystal.  At last, the rock
responded, and a streak of lightning slammed up his sword and into him,
knocking him backwards.  Without thinking about the pain, though, he surged
forward and brought his sword against the crystal again.  This time, he held it
there, pushing against the rock formation with unprecedented strength and
fury.  “Give him back!” he cried, and his voice snagged with anguish.  “No—you
can’t… you can’t have him!  Give him back, now!” He cried again, and his voice
only sounded more hollow, more desperate.

Tears were streaming down his face, and he took no notice of
them, even as he pushed his sword hard against the rock.  Electricity wracked
through him, but he didn’t care, he hit the rock—again and again, as there was
a pain far greater engulfing him, and it would only stop if Taeru could be
taken out of this monstrosity. 

Taeru looked weaker than he ever had, crucified against the
corrupted obelisk.  His head was bowed, and his body was entirely without
movement.  “Taeru, please, no…” Calis slammed his fist against the crystal,
then.  His forehead touched it, and he stared blankly at the vulnerable form of
the love of his life.  “Don’t do this,” he whispered to anything that would
listen.  “Not him.”  The vines were still entrapping Taeru’s arms, still
seeming as though they were squeezing too tightly.  “I love him too bloody
much…”  His fist slammed into the crystal again.

Despite the stillness of his body, Calis could see the pain
etched into his lover’s face.  Pain that was frozen there.  Calis knew Taeru
was still in pain—
still
.  “No, don’t do this… take me, take me if you
need someone—just not him.  I beg you… please…”  Calis’s tears continued,
worsened, and his body trembled.  The energy continued to flow around Taeru,
building, and orbs of white intermingled with the black.

It wasn’t just torturing Taeru with its energy—it was
sapping the life from him.  It was torturing him with his own energy.  Calis’s
fist pounded once more against the crystal.  “STOP IT!”

“How sweet,” a voice from behind him said, or rather,
several voices said.  Calis whirled to face them, eyes narrowed as pain haunted
him with every gesture, every thought, and every breath. 
Taeru…
He had
to protect him.

The woman behind him was barely a woman at all.  Her hair
was white, and her body was made of vines.  Her yellow eyes regarded Calis with
disdain.  “Let him go,” Calis spoke through gritted teeth.  “You witch.”

“You ought to have a little more respect, Calis Tsrali, when
regarding a Magister—a creator of your people.”

“Let him go,” Calis repeated, and every syllable was a
threat on its own.  She may have been a Magister.  But he would have faced
every Magister infinite times over if it meant saving the boy entrapped in the
death crystal behind him. 

She laughed.  “No, Calis—I don’t think I will.  Though, I
will admit… your passion for one so… easy to manipulate is surprising.”

He screamed at the insult, springing forward and drawing his
sword across her deformed body.  She moved backwards, just out of the way of
his strike, and he stepped forward again with another swing.  As she moved away
again, she laughed, and the laughter hurt Calis’s head.  “Now, now, Calis… calm
down.”  With a twisted hand, she gestured behind him, and Calis turned.

Taeru’s body hadn’t changed position, but the black surges
of power that had been previously contained shot across his body
unrelentingly.  More tendrils twisted up his body, around his waist, despite
the apparent stillness of the crystal.  The vines could move freely, and they
did, twisting about Taeru’s legs, his arms, and his neck.  They stopped a few
moments after Calis turned, and he turned again to stare at the Magister, eyes
widened.  “Leave him alone, please.  Please.  If you need revenge on someone,
take me, or anyone… anyone but him.  Please.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Please,” she mocked.  Her eyes shone with fake sympathy. 
His jaw clenched, but tears continued to fall from his eyes.  “He’s saved your
pathetic Elyst for now, Calis Tsrali, you ought to be pleased.”

Pleased? 
Pleased?
  Calis would have seen Elyst
perish a thousand times if it would have spared Taeru this fate.  His body
quivered, and he shook his head wildly.  “Let him go!  Fight us!  Telandus and
Cathalar will defend themselves!  I’ll get into the bloody crystal myself! 
Send your creatures, millions of them, but let Taeru Lassau go!”  She chuckled
with amusement as she watched him.

The hum in the air built so that there was a constant
ringing in Calis’s ears.  The creature before him was unmoving, somehow
managing to look amused in its grotesque form.  Calis could barely see her, as
his mind drew and redrew the picture of Taeru behind him, within the crystal
with that pain—so subtle, and yet far too obvious to ignore, etched into his
face.  “A deal is a deal, Prince.  Your precious little Taeru neglected to
mention himself in his request, and now he’s paying the price.”

Calis narrowed his eyes, and with one quick movement, he
drew up his sword.  “Enough…”  The hilt burned beneath his fingers, as if
aching to be used.  His jaw clenched tightly enough to send pangs of discomfort
up into his mind.  “I will see you burn, witch,” he snarled.  Without another
pause, he leapt forward, using both hands to swing his sword downwards into her
body.

Her evasion was less effective this time, and his sword
caught in a few of the vines.  In response, one of them lashed forward and
entangled about his sword.  Not intending on losing the weapon, Calis propelled
himself forward and cut further into her twisted body.  She shrieked, and one
of the vines moved upwards and cut across his cheek.  Then, another moved
forward and slung him backwards so that he slammed into the obelisk. 

His body dropped so that he landed on his knees in front of
it, and he pulled himself back upright.  “Taeru,” he whispered.  His eyes
glanced backwards at the small form still ensnared in the crystal.  Then, his
eyes changed to the demon who’d put him there.  “I won’t let her have you—I
swear it.”  Again, his body moved forward, only this time, rather than charging
directly, he changed tact and moved, cutting into the side of her face.

This time, she let out a loud moan and leapt back as more
vines shot outwards towards Calis.  He growled, cutting through them and
springing in her direction more quickly.  His sword reached the vines again,
and he cut across them, slicing pieces of them to the ground.  Her body
suddenly became more agile, and she managed to flip backwards and leap into the
air, supporting herself with those disgusting branches.

Without pausing to think about it, Calis’s sword sliced
through the vines, cutting them easily, though the painful bolt of shock they
sent up his sword reminded him of the crystal.  He carved again, and her body
crashed to the ground before him.  “Give him back to me!” Calis cried.  The
moment her body landed, he drew up his sword and stabbed into the perverted
form.  One of her arms, which was simply another entanglement of branches, shot
towards him and wrapped around his neck.

She pulled him down towards her, and he used his foot to
slam into her body.  The foot was entrapped there, and he used his sword to slash
into the vines again, freeing his foot after a few strikes and then placing
another incursion across her cheek—the only part of her that was truly solid. 
When he struck it, she let out another scream of pain.  There was something
inside of Calis that needed to hear that, that needed this vengeance.

A wave of energy slammed into him, though, and he was flung
backwards again.  He skidded against the murky ground, and then he forced
himself back to his feet.  “You can do nothing for him!” she shrieked.  His
eyes narrowed, and his body quivered at the idea.  He may as well not exist if
there was nothing he could do for Taeru, and he would ensure that he did more
than exist. 

This time, when he leapt forward, her vines shot out simultaneously
and pierced across his side as his blade sunk into her throat.  He pulled back,
and then he brought his sword into an arc so that it cut the width of her
throat with unannounced death.  Her head snapped backwards, hanging blankly as
her body began to shrivel before him.  He let out a breath, and without
bothering to wait, he completed the split.  The head severed and bounced across
the ground.  His fingers didn’t release his sword, and he stared blackly at the
body that continued to shrivel.

Finally, he let his eyes move behind him, still finding
Taeru where he had been before.  His hands bound against the black cross, and
his head still slumped in unconsciousness.  Calis whimpered, and his head
snapped back to the beheaded creature.  “Let him go!” he shouted.  “Let him go
now!” he cried to someone whose life he didn’t know if he’d just taken.

More tears streamed down his cheeks as the silence echoed
through the air.  He took a step backwards—if he couldn’t fight the woman, then
how could he protect Taeru?  She wasn’t dead—she wasn’t dead because she still
had Taeru trapped in that bloody crystal.  “Fight me, bitch!” he screamed.  Her
body was all but gone, and her head was just staring at him without life.

Rather than standing and waiting for something, Calis turned
back to the crystal obelisk and slammed his sword into the gemstone again.  His
sword cut into the violet, and sparks flew around him as the thrum of pain lit
into his body.  Sparks of energy flew from the creation, and when his sword reached
the bottom, he saw the strange scratch that he’d made.  He repeated the
process, heedless of the pain.  His sword barely sliced into the crystal, but
it did so.  He stared blankly at Taeru’s cataleptic face.  His eyes narrowed,
and he pulled his sword back, slamming it into the crystal with renewed force upon
his next blow.  This time, with the sparks of energy, there was a howl from
somewhere that he could not understand.  “GIVE HIM BACK!” he shouted.

The ground behind him shook, even as Calis slammed his sword
into the crystal another time.  Inevitably, though, he turned to face what he
knew would be round two against the Magister Aleia.  A roar pierced the air
before he’d managed to turn, and what he saw when he turned would have been
horrifying to any other man.  A dragon.  A dragon that he had been assured only
existed in tales that had long since passed.  Dragons of old, with their
scales, and large wings that extended the length of six men.  Teeth that could
tear through the hardest of metals with the slightest of touch, and eyes that
could see into the soul of a man and tear it out—or so said the legends. 

The dragon before him was solid, unlike the other forms that
the Magister had taken.  Her eyes were the same—yellow, as they stared at him,
intent on causing tremors of terror to gnaw at his body.  Though, the only
tremor that possessed him was one of anger and desperation.  The creature stood
his height five times, with claws that rested on the ground and looked no less
sharp than her teeth, a tail with a barb at the end of it that swished through
the air with menace, and three backwards horns that twisted upwards from the
back of her eyes, coming out the back of her head—even they looked as though
they could have impaled Calis.  And her width was the largest of all, spanning
what felt like a thousand paces.  The creature was white, with a black stomach,
and yellow eyes and teeth.  “You are but a man, Calis Tsrali, you cannot hope
to stand against me,” her voice echoed through the air.

“Come and get me, then,” he snarled.  If this was a way that
he could free his lover, then he would fight it without batting an eyelash.  He
held his sword in front of him, and fear remained completely absent from his
mind.  “Witch.”