Dusk Falling (Book 1) (9 page)

Serrtin gave pause, adjusting her grip on her flamberge and gave a short nod. They proceeded. Signs of the wounded Elfkin were no longer evident; they could only hope they were heading in the correct direction now.

Suddenly, Agemeer’s ears perked and he halted. He stared ahead as if he could see through the trees and lifted his nose to sniff the breeze. “I smell smoke.”

“Smoke…?”

“The town!” Agemeer expelled in a gasp. Heedless of the danger, the team broke into a run. Coming free of the forest, they could see Barda in the distance.

It was burning.

People were screaming in terror as all around them where darkness did not conceal, flames burned uncontrollable. Few tried to save their possessions or combat the raging fire and before the team could think as to why, the reason presented itself.

Themselves.

Amongst the villagers fleeing for their lives, ran monsters in humanoid form; no matter their upright stance, they were not creatures of Selnaria.

The beings were black skinned, unclothed, with long sinewy arms. Their backs were crooked to the point where their posture was almost bent in double, legs like that of a beast. Even from the distance, the monsters’ faces could be seen- flat and smooth, the only visible distinction being their large dark eyes.

The way they moved was horribly elegant- like some demonic dancer- as they leapt from building to building unperturbed by the flames. When they ran, they were as agile as a cat. And when they killed, they were no less deadly than a sword wielded by a Master. The monsters’ claws rent man and beast alike with a power that was terrifying to witness. None escaped when caught in their deadly grasp. When a pack attacked, nothing survived the onslaught but a heap of broken bones and flesh.

Staring incredulously at the once peaceful bright town they had visited only hours past, Serrtin, Aya and Agemeer drew the only conclusion available to them: the cause of this horrible destruction had to be the white-maned Chase, the one they were sent to find. He had proven himself a deadly mage, he could be an equally deadly summoner as well.

Then, as if summoned himself, he appeared.

One of the houses that sat off by its lonesome near the outer edge of Barda had been toppled. It looked to have had an entire wall knocked in and then the rest of the building had fallen over without the support. He crouched nearby the rubble. Though he occasionally looked up, glancing about feverishly, his attention was focused on something in what was left of the house. Tossing bits of wood and plaster over his shoulder, he dug intently.

“Thieving bastard.” Serrtin said, voice low. “Not only does he send his foul demons to kill them, he raids their corpses for coin. Disgusting.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s stop him!”

Serrtin caught the young mages arm as she made to do just as she said. Aya met the saurian’s eyes. “Aya, I know how you feel but these are not a bunch of Larren ruffians- these are demons as far as I can tell. We can’t run in on them unprepared.”

“That’s not very ‘Yarcka’ of you.” Aya hissed and was immediately sorry she had spoken hastily. “I’m sorry Serrtin. We have to help the survivors. We have to stop him from destroying Barda.”

“Trust me, we will.” Serrtin said without humor.

“Look!” Agemeer interrupted. They looked where he pointed with his snout. The nameless youth was on his feet, a demon before him. Though it did not speak, it moved in a way that bespoke a threatening nature. When it seemed at last it would attack, it suddenly stopped. Cowering, it turned and leapt away.

He stood for a moment, watching the shadows where the demon had vanished. Casually, as if barely interested in his own defense, he caught the pike of a townsman on the black claws of his right hand. The townsman had witnessed the incident between the Elfkin and the dark demonic creature, concluding their enleaguement. From their distance, the trio could not hear what the townsman said but they could see the sneer that twisted the youth’s features when he deigned to acknowledge the man. The townsman spun to fall on his face as the Chase backhanded him with such force the pike snapped in two.

“Let’s go.” Serrtin said. Aya breathed in relief. They would help.

“I am not sure how much assistance we shall be to the citizens, my friends. I have never seen such creatures beyond books.” Agemeer said, padding along. “And in our current condition…”

“We’ll be fine.” Aya stated. “It’s the people of Barda I am worried about.”

Reaching the closest part of the city, they trekked through the rubble with discretion. The demons seemed to have vacated the area now that it was void of life and things to destroy. Bodies were strewn about amidst their broken possessions. It was terrible to think they may have seen or held conversation with one of the unfortunates so short a time prior when they still breathed and lived.

“Aya, look.”

Off to her right stood one of the demons. It was crouched in one of the small plots where there was no debris from the toppled buildings that were around it. Its eyes were a stark unblinking red and were its only discernable feature. It continued to gaze at them, unmoving until a high sharp peel split the air, startling Aya. The demon then dissaparated before their eyes into nothingness.

“I wonder what that sound was..?” Agemeer pondered aloud, keen eyes glancing around. He sniffed the air. “I think all the demon-kind have gone as well, not only that single individual.”

“Let’s make sure. We can ask the summoner personally.” Serrtin said, voice full of iron. She pointed off with the tip of her flamberge.

The Elfkin youth stood at the end of what was left of the street they were on. He watched them through strands of white hair, hands down at his sides. The wound he had received had all but completely healed, no longer
was his clothing rent and the blood stains had paled to a light pinkish color. The self-assured half-smile was no longer adorning his face. And he was not at all happy to see them again.

Following Serrtin’s bold lead, Aya and Agemeer steeled themselves for what would be the finale. They either captured the Chase or killed him, less he kill them, for here they would have to end it. If they succeeded in subduing him, Kcrienalpralopar could seal-

“That’s it!” Aya exclaimed to Agemeer. “Give me Kcrie’s flask.”

“Wha-? Okay, Aya dear. What do you have in mind?” Behind Serrtin’s wide back, the young mage took the crystal flask from the Wulf’s shoulder.

“The darkness!” Aya said, pulling the strap over her head. “Kcrie can’t come out unless it is dark out during the day and as long as he’s pulling off a spell like this, we might as well use it to our advantage.”

“Our Asrai companion will not be pleased but once this job is finished, she’ll change her mind about the intrusion on her personal time.”

“I hope so. I hope she’ll know what to do…” Aya said, gripping the stopper. Carefully she twisted off it off. The liquid inside rocked slowly side to side. The Asrai was still asleep. “Please wake soon Kcrie. We need you. Serrtin, we have a plan.”

“What?” The saurian said without looked back, slowing her advance. She was intent on her target, not again would she be letting this one slip through her clawed fingers.

“In this darkness, Kcrie can help. She’ll be able to Bind him and return to her bottle before the spell fully ends!” Aya told her, keeping her voice low, unsure how good the Chase’s ears were.

“Do whatever you can. I’ll take him head-on. If I can’t lay him out, it’ll be up to you two… er, three.” Serrtin responded, uttering words rarely spoken by anyone with Yarcka blood running through their veins- ‘if I can’t’. She trusted her own abilities as well as those of her companions, but this Chase did not attack like any mage did. He was very different. Normally, a mage at a distance would be deadly- as much so as one skilled primarily in melee up close- but once you came within striking distance of said mage, their magic would fall short when they found they needed to protect themselves from physical onslaught. But this one was as effective up close as far away. A strange breed of mage indeed.

“Still intent on following me, bounty hunters?”

“We will not rest until you are in a Circuit dungeon bound by magic-proof chains.”

“Hmph,” He responded disgustedly, “And your pockets are filled with the gold bought by my blood. Is that it?”

“You know it is. It’s a Hunter’s job.” Serrtin hefted her sword before her, holding it with both hands, stance wide.

“We’ll see about that.” The youth growled, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna make sure you don’t live to regret this.”

He caught Serrtin’s attack on his crossed claws. They faced off, strength about equal before the Elfkin threw the Yarcka off. His attacks were lightning fast after that, keeping his opponent on guard and unable to counter. She was only able to block because of the immense size of her weapon which she kept directly between herself and him.

Taking one after another forced step backwards, Serrtin could not do anything else but stay on defense and wait for an opening. Through blocking however, she began to lock in on his attack patterns. Though he attacked with both claws, he favored his left and used it less, more just to keep her in a guard position than actually trying to do damage.

Taking that to mean the Chase was not entirely healed from their last battle, Serrtin sought to opportune the possible advantage. Still unable to go on the offensive, Serrtin began to move her blade in on his left attacks, hitting back on his claws with as much strength as she could without opening herself up to his right claw.

After a few minutes, the youth had to give up attacking entirely with his left claw but he did not give it up willingly. Or easily. With a growl that said he knew what she was doing, he redoubled his attack, trying to break past her defense instead of simply trying to wear her down.

Claws sliding past the blade of her flamberge, her skin split under the knife-like edges leaving deep gashes on her forearm.

Ignoring the razing pain, Serrtin twisted her blade down, locking his claw through the middle. Finding his entire arm unable to move and her sword as well, the youth grinned as he brought back his injured left arm parallel to his shoulder.

The moment he took to enjoy what he believed to be his imminent victory strike- driving his claw through the Yarcka’s armored heart- Serrtin dropped her two-handed grip to one and slammed her balled fist into his jaw. Hard.

Serrtin leapt back out of the way. “NOW!” She yelled.

~ ~ ~

It was like having a million tiny pins pricking him all over his body. Like he had fallen asleep in a tree and the blood had run out of his limbs. It was not excruciating but it was very very annoying.

He watched through a veil of blue-white light as the girl-mage took from her neck a pendant rimmed in silver. She said something to a figure in an engulfing brown cloak but he could not hear past the sound in his ears. Though the air currents stirred gently around him, it sounded like he was in the center of a great whirlwind. Who was this new person with them? And what…

Then the mysterious figure responded, raising her arms above her. With one hand she gestured to the pendant, with the other she pointed. At him.

The light intensified until it began to hurt his eyes. He tried to lift his arm to shield his vision and found he could not move his arm at all. His whole body would not move. He tried his magic, only to find nothing there to tap into- a void. Fighting the rising panic, he sought to find a weakness in the spell that was clouding his thoughts only to find he no longer was able to ‘see’ the energies that were surrounding him. There was nothing. From without and within, the magic that once infused his whole being was gone and he was left bereft and exposed.

As the beam of light faded, the Elfkin looked down at his hands as if they were not his own, eyes wide. “What have you done?”

“Your powers have been Binded.” Serrtin responded, resting her blade on her shoulder.

“That’s impossible.” He looked up at them, eyes narrowed. “That can not be true. What I am can never be held sway by simple Binding magics.”

He attempted to brush past Serrtin when her immense blade became a sudden roadblock. When her hand latched hold of the front of his shirt, he found he could not escape. The cloth held firm and so did the saurian that suddenly looked a lot bigger than she had before. No matter how hard he struggled, he was now no match at all. It frustrated him, angered and frightened him.

And now he was trapped. He knew he should have finished them off when he had the chance…

Agemeer and Aya left at a quick pace to retrieve Aya’s mare which was calmly making a meal of the green plants Serrtin had earlier been thinking ill thoughts of destruction toward. After bolting, the mare had soon come to realize nothing was coming after her and had halted, immediately starting to graze. She had not gotten too far off from where they had had the encounter with the mysterious cloaked attackers. Agemeer, with his sensitive canine nose, led them back to what was left of Barda.

Serrtin had bid the white-haired Elfkin kneel (with a forceful whack of the flat of her blade on the backs of his knees) and had tied his hands behind his back with a bit of fishing twine. With a wide-eyed look of shock plastered to his face, he did not look likely to try an escape… yet. Having had the wind knocked out of him moments earlier, kept him as docile as they could hope for.

It was still dark out, which did not make any sense. Kcrie had retreated back to her bottle just before Agemeer and Aya left and remained with Serrtin just in case the unlikely event of the Binding failing completely. She had paused in her liquid state and stared up into the sky for several moments. Without features, no one who observed the Asrai at that moment could tell what she was thinking as she looked into the swirling mass of foreboding darkness.

It should not still be dark if the spellcaster no longer had control of his magic, so Serrtin thought. She questioned Aya as she secured the specially-bought Dwarprihn irons to the Chase’s wrists. She left his gloves on due to the intricate way they seemed to be fastened to his upper arm but made the manacles tighter than usual to make up for it.