The Undying God (5 page)

Day gleamed brightly overhead, soaking
through the earth like rain. Nishka was grateful for the pleasant
weather, a perfect blend of warmth and a cool breeze that whispered
through her blonde hair. She absolutely adored the spring. She
couldn’t imagine looking forward to the bitter winters in Eyegad.
In fact, she hoped this season would never end.

“So why did you leave me like that in
Sepulzer?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You disappeared into the tower. What
were you doing in there?”

“I was tracking the phases of the
moon.”

“That’s a lot of effort to look at the
moon. You could have seen it just as well from the
streets.”

“Perhaps.”

“You know, the word ‘lunatic’ is
derived from the belief that changes of the moon caused insanity… I
never believed it, but you’re beginning to make me
question—”

“I can assure you I am completely sane.
Tracking the moon was not my sole reason for ascending Tythoril.
You told me one could see all around Sepulzer from the tower. I
wanted to see if this was true.”

“Well, the next time you explore creepy
towers, I’m going to stay outside…”

Something appeared further down the
road, but it was much too far away. Nishka squinted and saw what
appeared to be a merchant wagon.

“It looks abandoned,” Arxu remarked.
They continued south, carefully approaching the wagon. It appeared
wholly intact yet devoid of all presence. There were no merchants
to be found around the wagon and no sign of a campsite.

“Maybe they’re asleep inside,” Nishka
suggested. With a shrug, she helped Arxu lift the canvas draped on
its frame. Dead merchants were sprawled inside.

Nishka gasped and staggered back,
riveted by the expressions of horror carved into the men’s faces.
She had never seen so much blood and carnage. One thought lanced
through her mind. Thieves lurked nearby. Arxu’s voice jolted her
back to reality.

“Arm yourself.” Nishka’s shock didn’t
immediately melt away. “You seemed content to defend yourself in
Sepulzer.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and she
tried to bury a wave of nausea. As she circled the wagon, she
noticed something underneath. She leaned down and almost
immediately retracted when she saw the body there. She had also
seen the crossbow in the deceased man’s hands. He had most likely
hidden beneath the wagon during the ambush in hopes of surviving.
Obviously, his efforts to defend himself did not go unnoticed.
Nishka hesitantly pulled the weapon out of his hands.

“Have you handled a crossbow before?”
Arxu prompted.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath and
approached the wagon again, lifting the canvas. Nishka rummaged
among the bodies with a revolted expression. At last, she found a
quiver with a dozen bolts, which she buckled to her belt with
shaking fingers.

Arxu watched her load a bolt into the
crossbow. He could only hope she would provide support if the
bandits found them. Satisfied, Arxu tethered the donkey to a tree
and ventured ahead. He scouted along the road, looking warily at
the flanking trees. Nishka also eyed the forest around her. She
wanted to suggest turning back and taking another route.

She bit back the proposal. If the
bandits were in the area, they were almost certainly watching them
already. Perhaps she had no choice but to walk alongside this
unpredictable man into disaster.

“Arxu—” He raised his hand to silence
her, a gesture she did not appreciate. Suddenly, a crack had Nishka
turning fast to her left. She pointed her crossbow into the
obscurity of the forest. She held the weapon steady for a moment,
her finger resting on the trigger.

Nothing obliged her and
emerged.

A keen sense of fear followed her along
the road as she pursued Arxu. That sickly feeling squirmed deep
inside her and grew. Her finger tensed against the trigger of her
weapon. The moment Arxu’s hand leaped to his staff, she knew
something terrible would take place.

Yells erupted from the surroundings,
and human forms exploded from hiding. Gripped in their hands were
daggers, swords, and maces. They rushed toward their prey with
animalistic screams of rage.

Nishka took a step backward and raised
her crossbow. Nearly a dozen armed men closed in on her with long
blades gleaming. A heavyset bandit with thick muscles stepped
forward, a cowl drooping low over his face, revealing only his
mouth. His cracked lips pulled back in a foul sneer, and Nishka
could see teeth that resembled fangs. They elongated into
needle-like tips, as though someone had taken a blade and mutilated
his mouth.

A grinding sound accompanied his
approach, and Nishka saw the mace in his hand dragging along the
ground. Shrapnel protruded from the blunt instrument, tearing long
furrows into the dirt road. Nishka’s eyes rounded in horror as the
gargantuan man approached. She squeezed the trigger.

The bolt jammed in the crossbow. The
bandit bellowed a guttural roar that sounded inhuman, and he lifted
the enormous mace over his head. Nishka cried out and darted aside
as he plunged forward. The crossbow came down hard on his head. As
Nishka fled, she tried to shoot the men in pursuit. Nishka braced
the crossbow against her hip and loosened a bolt into the crowd.
The missile plunged through a bandit and he toppled rigidly against
a tree.

In that instant, she almost dropped her
crossbow. She had killed a human being. Nishka felt nauseated
looking at the man splayed against the tree. She tried to justify
the murder, but part of her couldn’t accept it. She struggled to
maintain focus, but her attention kept darting toward
Arxu.

His movements were a rapid succession
of smooth and intricate jabs, spins, and stances. It was bizarre
how something as repugnant as violence could be so graceful. Arxu
transitioned naturally from one movement to the next, a strike
flowing into a parry. It almost resembled a dance, smooth and
precise, a rhythm to his blows that was confident and
deadly.

His body dipped below an incoming blade
and his staff whipped across. His fighting prowess was astonishing,
far surpassing anything his foes could throw at him. Nishka
realized the bandits she faced were watching Arxu’s performance as
well. The most foreboding among them nodded at his
companions.

“Kill him.” Three rogues obeyed without
question. Nishka hoped Arxu could fend off seven men at once. “I’ll
face her alone,” the bandit snarled, claiming her. “Let her
suffering be a lesson to the caravans that resist us.”

Eight bandits backed away from the
battle. Apparently, he didn’t believe he would need reinforcements
to kill her. Nishka raised the crossbow and leveled it at his
chest. Her actions only seemed to amuse him. For the first time,
she noticed how unsightly the man was. His unshaven face bore signs
of physical abuse, most prominently several deep scars on his
lips.

He looked confidently at his prey with
his green eyes. Those same eyes settled on the crossbow clutched in
her hands.

“You can’t do it, can you?” he said.
“You can’t kill me.” Nishka took a single step forward in hopes
that his confidence would falter. It didn’t subside in the least.
“Even if you find the courage to pull the trigger, my companions
will avenge my suffering.”

“You aren’t giving me any options,” she
bitterly replied. She glanced at Arxu again; he was far too
occupied with the onslaught of opponents.

The bandit smiled, “Lower your weapon.
Perhaps I will let you flee.” He looked over his shoulder at Arxu
killing his men. “I can’t guarantee your friend’s safety,
however.”

Nishka hoped she could delay the
criminal long enough for Arxu to render assistance.

“How can I trust you to keep your
word?”

“Woman, you are in no position to
negotiate your life. I’m offering you one chance to escape.” Nishka
anxiously looked at Arxu again. “My patience is growing
thin.”

“Tell your men to lower their weapons
first.” She knew it was a ridiculous proposition, and she wasn’t
surprised by the man’s raucous laughter.

“I told you that you can’t negotiate
for your life. Now you’ve wasted your chance.” A sudden scream made
the criminal spin around. He stared in disbelief as the three men
he dispatched were struck down in seconds.

Arxu spun the staff intricately with a
single hand and deflected a dagger. He slammed the head of the
staff into a bandit’s chest and inverted the momentum, thrusting in
the opposite direction. The sharp tip impaled a bandit that reared
up with a sword. Arxu retracted the staff and agilely swept the
third man off his feet.

Upon seeing this display, the leader
scowled in fury and bore down on Nishka. He would kill her quickly
and slay Arxu. He lunged forward and Nishka squeezed the trigger.
He gasped in shock and plunged to his knees. He could acutely feel
the crossbow bolt lodged in his thigh. It protruded from the back
of his leg at an excruciating angle. He cried out in rage, a sound
that signaled his companions to annihilate her. Nishka pointed her
crossbow at the bandits and they hesitated.

“Stay the hell away from me,” she
commanded.

They looked to one another for
confidence, perhaps a stalling tactic. Nishka shot another bolt and
it hissed past the nearest bandit. He immediately skittered
backward, and his companions did the same. Nishka hadn’t intended
to strike him, only to emphasize her point.

“She won’t kill you!” the leader
screamed, rabid with pain and anger. “She had the chance and she
only maimed me... Kill her!” The bandits hesitated despite his
command. “She won’t kill you!” At last, the thieves
advanced.

“But I will.” The crippled thief looked
over his shoulder. Nishka quickly turned away as the thief died.
Arxu retracted his staff now stained with blood. The remaining
bandits yelled and rushed toward the assailant.

Arxu didn’t waste a moment seizing
initial blows. The staff’s tip thrust at an upward angle through a
man’s chin and swept across to bash his skull. Seamlessly, the
staff weaved left and right, in mesmerizing blocks and turns. He
struck a man in the side, spun around and plunged the staff twice
into his opponent.

Something small flashed in Arxu’s hand
but his fingers moved too fast for Nishka to see—and obviously his
victim, too. Suddenly, one of the thieves was clutching his throat
as it rapidly turned red. His eyes were round with terror and he
tried desperately to breathe.

Seeing this display did not lessen the
morale of the criminals. In fact, the murder only frenzied them
with rage. Six men coordinated an attack against him, darting in
from different angles. Two thrust their blades at Arxu to repel him
toward the faceless man with the mace. He swung his blunt weapon at
Arxu with a savage roar.

The steel tip of a staff immobilized
him as it sheared through his belly. He could not begin to imagine
what had happened next. He was falling toward the ground and he
could hear the cries of his companions. Arxu ducked under swords
and evaded side swings as his staff performed a series of intricate
defensive maneuvers. The same staff suddenly retaliated with
surreal ferocity, moving far too fast for the
highwaymen.

The last bandit had fallen to the road,
his eyes looking blankly into space. His arm shuddered as what
little remained of his life faded away. Nishka watched Arxu
approach.

He showed no sign of fear or anxiety
from the battle. Part of Nishka wished she could show similar
resolve during a crisis. However, a concerning thought erased that
desire.

She feared he may be utterly
desensitized to violence.

Chapter 5

Traces of light lingered vividly on the
horizon, receding beyond the tide of shadows that prefaced night.
The darkness was soothing, a cool tone that lulled the eye. Nishka
felt well rested merely sitting at the campsite. She also felt
differently about her companion after the ambush.

A strange trust had replaced the
previous suspicion that marked their relationship. She was starting
to believe Arxu posed her no harm; in fact, he would devote himself
to ensuring her safety.

Nishka thought about what he said when
she first met him. Arxu had asked why she stayed with her father.
The simple question he posed set off an internal dialogue that
could not be hushed. Nishka was quietly coming to terms with the
reality she avoided.

“I’ve stayed with my father for many
years,” she admitted. Arxu looked up from the campfire embers to
regard her. “I fear for my father. I’m afraid that he might injure
himself while smithing, or he will grow ill and I won’t be there
for him. I’ve stayed behind even though my younger brothers have
left to have their own families.”

She cast a somber look around her
surroundings. The sky had rendered vistas of violet that
complemented dusk. An evening bird called longingly in the
distance.

“He has encouraged me to marry and find
my passion in life, but I fear for him... after I lost my mother.”
Her voice drifted to a whisper as she recalled the painful memory.
“One day, she fell gravely ill and she didn’t recover.” Years had
passed since that tragic day, but she keenly remembered the
loss.