home

search

Chapter 22: Ritual of Rot

  “You had someone kidnapped Zarmhel?” Lylen asked incredulously.

  Atzler gritted his teeth, “I get that we do shady things for you sometimes, but never I’d guess we’d be accessories to kidnapping!”

  Zarmhel shot them both a look of contempt, “It was necessary for what…is required.”

  Despite Gunnolf’s face hidden by the fur over his eyes gave off a sense of anger and his tone further proved it. “This man,” he gestured his right hand toward him. “Attempted to take the scroll you entrusted me to take to Basgere Cave and we dueled.”

  Mizril gave a wide smile, “I thought I recognized you. I was hired to test your resolve to your task, Wandering Dark Wind. Other than being a little slow, I’m guessing age is responsible for that. Still, you proved your devotion to the tasks given.”

  Zarmhel had remorse in his tone, “Forgive me Gunnolf, I had to be certain you were ever loyal to our arrangements, since you seem to question me sometimes. Planning is essential for what I am doing, and one cannot be too cautious.” The owl-man entered the next chamber when Gunnolf replied with silence, but anger boiled and raged within him.

  I was deceived. KILL THE MAN IN THE HAT! Gunnolf struggled keeping his hand away from the hilt of his tachi. The temptation was there

  Atzler and Lylen had concerned looks on their faces and Lylen’s gaze went up toward Gunnolf’s whose face was showing his teeth. “Are you ok, Gunnolf?” she softly asked.

  The kobold’s hand twitched near the hilt as he looked down and for the first time when he saw her, his mind flashed an image of a little red-haired elf girl of about three years old giving him the same concerned look. No, I failed that girl and Master Irina. Little Surina died and it was my fault. The image in his mind flashed to that same little girl covered in her own blood in the woods. Kill everyone! The voice raged in him.

  Lylen touched his right arm and the voice vanished along with the images of the past. “Gunnolf, it’ll be alright. I’m sure Zarmhel has his reasons to deceive you.” He lowered his hand and gave a nod. She looked at him even more perplexed. “Did he just grin at me?” she whispered to herself.

  The man known as Phantasm carried the woman into the chamber after him while Atzler stood there stunned by the whole ordeal.

  The elf man finally broke in, “I don’t like this. Zarmhel kidnapped a woman. Who is she anyway?”

  “I’m hopeful Zarmhel has good reasons, but I can’t figure that out either,” Lylen added.

  It was a round chamber, and a pink light shined upon a large skeletal husk in the far back. Over twelve paces in height, it had the skull of a bull, but the other bones were giant humanoid and fused into the rocky wall. Cobwebs were glazed over the eye sockets.

  Atzler froze at the sight of it before Phantasm stepped behind him which motivated his next step.

  “Zarmhel, what is the Malkirath Stone and who is this woman you had taken?” Lylen asked but before he could answer, something scurried along the floor.

  With a flash, Gunnolf’s tanto left his hand at the creature in the dark, a gurgled noise as the sound of blade piercing brittle bones and blade hitting the stone floor as it flashed white as confirmation the petite monster was hit.

  “Looks like that was a Dead Crawler,” said Zarmhel as his torchlight revealed the short blade sticking out of the rotted carcass. His head turned at Lylen to answer her, “The Malkirath Stone is a precious artifact. Much like the triangles you traded for that scroll back at Basgere Cave, Gunnolf. It will bring the Low Lands more independence, these artifacts are tied to Ilix and the seal on an ancient power.”

  “I have been wondering about those, but the money…” Gunnolf’s words trailed off, has the money been that important?

  A pedestal was revealed by torchlight as it was in the center of the room. More glowing stones of red, pink, blue, and green glowed softly against the walls and one basin made of malachite was in front of the pedestal the lights of the stones partially revealed. A wide basin was on the other side of the pedestal.

  Gunnolf retrieved his short blade from the dead crawler’s husk as Zarmhel approached the pedestal, “Atzler and Lylen, stand on opposite sides of the basin please,” Zarmhel directed as he placed the stone triangles from his robe onto a recess on the pedestal. Both Atzler and Lylen glanced at one another and gave a nod as they complied with the request. “Reach your arms across and clasp hands,” instructed the owl-man.

  “I still want to know who this woman is you kidnapped,” Lylen demanded.

  Phantasm answered this time, “She will prove most valuable. Over five centuries ago, her bloodline sealed that ancient power here. This young woman is the Shining Jewel of Illisea. Princess Eril Marriph Issea.”

  Gunnolf gritted his teeth, temper breaking loose. “What is the meaning of this?! Kidnapping royalty is certainly going to instigate another war!”

  Shock filled Lylen and Atzler had while Gunnolf looked ready to strike out of sheer rage for his hand was on the hilt of the Kazesuki-zhuken now.

  Phantasm laid the princess across the pedestal. “Unfortunately, we need her to release this power to its fullest capacity.”

  Zarmhel added, “Indeed, I know it is much to take in. Here are a small token of my appreciation for you three,” he said addressing Gunnolf, Lylen, and Atzler as he pulled three sacks of Zoa from his robe to give them.

  Lylen’s and Atzler’s fell from each other. Frustration on both of their faces.

  “Relink now!” Zarmhel commanded them. “I have eight hundred Zoa in each of these sacks for you. This task I am willing to pay greatly for.”

  “What the hell are we doing Zarmhel?! What are you going to do with her?” Atzler demanded.

  “You will obey!” The aviar dropped the bags of coins as they spilled all over the floor. Zarmhel’s eyes shined a golden color as they locked with both Lylen and Atzler and their expression went blank as they joined hands once more before another word of protest could be said.

  Gunnolf watched carefully as the voice of Irina was in his mind, Blood of the once pure; of elven man and of an elven maiden joining over the pool of the dead shall conjure the soulless. Opening the body of the seal will be the vessel to return the soulless from beyond. Lylen’s hand met Atzler’s across the basin. If the Shadow Stone in place, and the Sword of the Moon will eclipse the day as the Festering Rot return to this mortal plane.

  Zarmhel spoke, “The joining of the holy flesh that binds across, let it bridge as the Malkirath; the Shadow Stone emits its power. Gunnolf, bring your sword.”

  My last lesson…Protect the Kazesuki-zhuken. It is the seal on the Festering Rot of this land. The image of Irina in his mind from twenty years ago, her bloodied face as she handed the tachi to him. Her long red hair covering part of her face and blood smeared across the other. The wound on her neck was decaying the surrounding flesh rapidly one as her white, green, and gold kimono was splattered with blood from herself as well as the countless foes she had slain.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “Gunnolf!” Zarmhel yelled. “This is the final act of the ritual to proceed onward with this ruin. I want to get it done with before more undead find us.”

  Phantasm approached Gunnolf as his mind returned to the present. Atzler and Lylen stared blankly at him, still clasping their right arms over the basin.

  “Apologies,” Gunnolf said as he approached slowly but intently.

  “Splendid,” said Zarmhel. “Now, hand me your blade so I can finish the precise movements so the pathway will open to us.”

  “No.”

  Zarmhel’s expression turned into frustration. “What?! Must I afflict your mind as well?” His eyes flashed a golden hue, but Gunnolf looked downward, fur over his face concealing the gaze.

  “I shall acquire the blade,” Phantasm said drawing his rapier.

  Like lightning, Gunnolf had his tanto out in a thrust as Phantasm parried the short blade. The arrogant smile returned to Phantasm’s face as it was at Basgere Cave. Gunnolf’s teeth were revealed. Then they clashed blades three times.

  “Bastard,” Gunnolf said through his teeth.

  Phantasm smiled, “Aren’t we all bastards? Your hands are stained as much as mine, good sir.”

  He parried Gunnolf’s tanto and disarmed it from him and gave a left hook to the kobold’s jaw. Recovering his poise, Gunnolf narrowly dodged the next thrust from the man. Zarmhel raised both hands over Princess Eril and her body fell limp as a white glowing light rose from it.

  “Her soul is ready,” Zarmhel said.

  “The Kazesuki-zhuken is my blade to protect!” Gunnolf shouted bitterly.

  Zarmhel turned his attention to Gunnolf as he conjured a ball of blue aether between his feathered hands, “I don’t want to do this Gunnolf, but I will kill you if I must.”

  Gunnolf leaped back, out of the way of Phantasm’s next strike before the icy blue orb of magic flew at him. Gunnolf laid chest flat on the floor, barely avoiding the ice magic as it crashed into the wall behind him.

  Zarmhel gave out a laugh, “Fool, this place will give the Low Lands the advantage it needs over Illisea! Who cares what the power is inside, I shall use it to bring the high country to its knees!”

  Zarmhel flashed two small daggers at the elves. Each of them had a dagger piercing their right shoulders, but their trances remained as their blood poured down their arms and into the basins. Neither showed an ounce of pain despite the daggers were enough for anyone to imagine the agony of their tips. “I had intended to use your blade to remove their souls along as a sacrifice, but their blood will do.”

  Phantasm darted for Gunnolf as he leaped back on his feet. “If you want to feel the wrath of Kazesuki-zhuken then so be it!” The kobold roared as Phantasm smiled arrogantly.

  Kill!

  Gunnolf drew his tachi and immediately the blade had a violet aura to it. The pair clashed blades, tachi met rapier. Gunnolf’s blade turned as black as night.

  “Yes!” Zarmhel said gleefully, a blast of white aether shot into Gunnolf from Zarmhel’s left hand, knocking him across the room. The sword still clutched in Gunnolf’s hands but the black aura that glowed on it was deeper and larger now. Zarmhel turned around and shouted at the wall imprisoning the skeleton that was starting to break and crack. “I welcome you Primordial Beckoner of Death. Grant me power to destroy Illisea. Grant me the power of Nikros, demigod of Death and Decay!”

  Phantasm stepped toward Gunnolf who rolled on the floor away from him, suddenly the kobold sprung to his feet. Gunnolf gave a vertical slash followed up with a horizontal slash in the form of a cross, each strike hitting the rapier but with force the strange man didn’t expect, sending Phantasm to fly across the room and hit his back on the wall and his hat flying off revealing he was a raxen. With Phantasm temporarily disposed of Gunnolf made mad dash at Zarmhel who barely turned to see the kobold aimed for him with the Kazesuki-zhuken aimed for the aviar!

  “No!” Phantasm yelled unable to get up just yet, his back ached and tremored.

  The blade pierced through the aviar’s chest. The soul of the princess descended downward toward her body again as trance over Lylen and Atzler ended. They clutched their arms in confusion.

  Zarmhel looked at Gunnolf, mirth in his voice, “Look what you have done,” he said as blood poured down his robe. A blinding light shot from Zarmhel’s chest as it sent both Gunnolf flying to his back on the floor.

  “What’s happening?!” Lylen called out seeing the soul of Zarmhel as a translucent light rise from his body and float toward the skeletal being in the wall.

  “This doesn’t look good!” Atzler yelled.

  Blue lights shined in the eye sockets of the giant bull skull. The walls cracked more, a skeletal clawed hand broke free as the room shook like an earthquake.

  Phantasm got to his feet, “Looks like it’s time to make my exit.” He threw down a round talisman as a teal runic marking appeared in the shape of an arch way on the floor and he stood on it and before Gunnolf could fully rise, the strange man vanished, and the talisman shattered.

  “Damn it! What do we do Gunnolf?!” Atzler asked as his hand lowered from applying a healing gel to his shoulder and Lylen was applying one to hers.

  Twelve more souls, only twelve!

  Gunnolf sheathed the tachi and recovered his tanto from the floor where Phantasm knocked it away. “Grab the Princess and you both get out!”

  More of the wall crumbled away, the bones moved more feely as a unit and an ominous voice with a deep rasp said, “Five centuries is a long time to be trapped.” The voice caused Gunnolf’s eyes to widen, it matched the same in his head that urged him to kill. “Such a long time to be sealed! Gratitude to those who aided my resurrection. I am Nikros, demigod of Death and Decay!” The skeletal being let out a roar that shook the room. Lylen was struck with horror as she couldn’t move. “To show my gratitude you shall be the first to become my new vassals as I strip your flesh from bone!”

  The sound of a harp was heard as the giant skeleton’s legs halted from breaking through the stone prison as he roared.

  Lylen and Atzler looked to where the sound was coming from toward the entrance of the room. “Emanon!” Atzler called out. The human man with a plumed hat stood there, keeping his eyes on his harp as he plucked each string.

  “Divine light, holy shine. Pull the evil from the resting bones, seal them with peace of the Light of Nidhogg─” Emanon sang.

  The skeletal demi-god howled as Gunnolf commanded, “Flee!”

  Atzler grabbed unconscious Princess Eril from the pedestal and had her over his shoulder as he and Lylen made a break for the entryway. Emanon kept playing when Gunnolf passed him along with Atzler. “You came after us Emanon?” Lylen asked incredulously.

  He kept his concentration on playing and didn’t answer her as he repeated his verses. His eyes met hers, but he kept playing, and she knew he wanted them to flee but terror was still in his eyes. She followed after Gunnolf.

  Another howl from Nikros shook the room as the ceiling began falling before him. His boney claws swiped at one of the boulders falling before him, a crack appeared in it and Emanon stopped playing.

  “That may hold him for a few moments,” he said securing his harp to his back and ran after Lylen and Atzler.

  Gunnolf led them as they backtracked through the passages, skeletons began rising from the soft patches in the stone floor and spirits in translucent robes entered from the walls.

  Lylen launched a small flame from her hand at a few skeletons who got in her way but the toll on her hands made them ache with each cast as the white fire obliterated what it touched. Emanon struggled to stay caught up to them. The clanking of bones surrounded the three of them. The wails of phantoms called out to them. They turned down another passage. Right. Left. Straight ahead for thirty paces. Left again. No time to think. No time for error.

  Another curved skeleton blade attempted to cleave into Atzler but pulled his head back in the instant the blade cut downward. He plunged his axe into the skull of the dead soldier, pulled it back and kept running as it crumbled to the floor.

  Reaching the stairs they descended from the mine above, the three of them began climbing it. Gunnolf was first to reach it as he hesitated to let the others catch up.

  “Shit!” exclaimed Atzler. “I forgot the doorway was sealed after we entered!”

  “We have someone waiting for us,” Emanon said. “Are you there sir?!” he yelled into the stone seal.

  A voice was on the other side, “Indeed!” the voice was familiar to Gunnolf, Lylen, and Atzler.

  “Is that…?” Lylen began.

  “Ogadoth-zwardeth, nithagash, vaskruth. Open the way of the ancient tomb and enter will mortals,” the voice shouted back. The stone slab began shifting and moving as skeletons began appearing in the stairwell from the corridor below. Gunnolf struck the first two with a kick, while Atzler split a third down the middle with his axe.

  “I hope it hurries up!” Atzler yelled, trying to balance the unconscious princess on his shoulders. “We can’t keep this up forever!”

  The slab opened just enough, Lylen emerged first followed by Emanon and then Atzler with Gunnolf last. The slab closed once more on a skeleton halfway out, getting severed at the spine above the hip bones. Gunnolf’s tanto pierced its skull to ensure it’d never rise again.

  “It is good to see you again,” the masculine yet cheery voice said as Gunnolf and Atzler saw Olin standing there with Dusaak at his side.

Recommended Popular Novels