prologue to nysta #7: assassin of dragonclaw
**************************
“The Warp has been
breached. We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
Words absorbed by
Hjalmyr’s ears, but didn’t quite reach his brain. He lifted his head, dazed.
Blood streaming from a cut ripping deep into his brow. Black worms writhed
inside the wound.
He could hear dull
thump of battle outside.
It echoed through
the castle’s solid interior.
Something else. He
could hear something else.
Whispering in his
mind.
Vandre grabbed his
shirt. Pulled him close so she could hiss; “Hjalmyr! Snap out of it! Fucking mitgerians
have taken the perimeter. You hear? Zeg’helvya has ordered retreat. We’ll be
stranded if you don’t get to your feet. Come on. Can you open a gateway?”
“Retreat?” His eyes tried to focus. He shifted
his arm across his stomach. Rubbed at the inside of his wrist. Felt worms
bubbling inside the joint. Something was broken. But they’d fix it, he thought.
They fixed everything. Almost. “Gateway? No. I don’t think so. I’m sorry.”
A tremendous boom
shook the ground.
Chips of stone
tinkled from the ceiling in a wash of dust. He wiped at his face with
gauntleted hand as Vandre tugged him to his feet. Smearing blood down cheeks.
“It’s over,” she
said. Couldn’t hide the bitterness. Didn’t even try. “We’ve lost. They came too
fast. There were too many. Dreygr’s skivin were massacred. He saved what he
could, but there’s not enough to stand and fight with. My tower has fallen. And
Raezla says they’ve taken Fannon’s Roost and Scarcore. We’re done.”
“Your tower? Did
they get-?”
“No. But I had to
burn the library. I burned it all, Hjal. Everything we’ve collected. The last
of the Sangerd Grimoires were in there. Lok’sul’s diaries. Everything.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another quake
rocked the room and Vandre looked to the door.
Closer than before,
the thunderous blast made her flinch. “They’ll be here soon.”
Air shivered in
front of him, motes of violet sparking into life. Light which swirled.
Flickered. Formed a face the two recognised.
Narrow. Gaunt
cheeks. Thin eyes.
“Nid Skaroth,”
Hjalmyr said. Unsure if he should be happy to see the man. Felt a brief wrench
of tension before speaking again. “We seem to be overrun here.”
“You’re not the
only one. Raezla has confirmed Fannon’s Roost has fallen. He’s leaving Scarcore
now. Also, we think Skrypi has been taken. It’s a mess, Hjal. I expected to not
get through to you. Thought I’d be too late.” Soft voice. Crackling as energy
flickered through the light.
“Skrypi?’ He
struggled to comprehend what had been said. “Taken? How?”
“It’s unclear. We believe
he’s been put on a ship to Touer Moth. Chogreth has a fleet rushing to
intercept. It’ll be close.” Licked his lips. “Can you get to the Gate?”
Vandre answered;
“I don’t think so. Mitgerians are everywhere. They’ve taken the city. A dragon
just flew overhead, and there’s at least one volkyrja on her way. We need help.
Anything you can give us.”
“Vandre.” Nid
Skaroth’s eyes widened as he heard her voice. “We thought you’d been lost. Your
tower has been destroyed.”
“I know. I
destroyed it.”
He hesitated
before speaking. “You might not believe me when I say it, but I’m relieved to
see you’re safe.”
“Thank you, Nid. And
if you can get us out of here, I’ll forget you ever said it.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Dry smile. He looked
sideways. Cocked head as he listened to something out of view. Looked back. More
serious. “We can’t send any more troops through. The jy’tin are stretched as it
is and we can’t afford to lose them. We’re taking heavy casualties and you can
understand securing the Warp is our first priority. Our only priority.”
“You can’t leave
us here!”
“We’re not going
to.” He licked his lips. Hesitation made him wince. “Zeg’helvya is turning her
Eye. Don’t leave the room for any reason. Prepare yourself. It could come at
any moment.”
Hjalmyr couldn’t
repress the shiver which slithered up his spine. “There’s no other way?”
“If you can think
of one, Herald, I’d be happy to pass it on.”
“Fuck. You’re
right. It’s a fucking mess.”
“Hold as best you
can. We’ll try to give you warning. But you know how these things go…”
“Hurry, Nid,”
Vandre said. “We’re running out of time.”
“Time is eternal.
You should know that, Sorceress.”
Flicker of light
as Nid Skaroth’s face disappeared.
Lost to the ether.
She eyed the
blistering motes choking on dust. Stomped on one when it hit ground. “Smug bastard.”
Hjalmyr could hear
shouts from the corridor.
Screams.
His soldiers.
Dying. Giving their lives for a few precious moments. He wondered why this
bothered him now. He’d never cared before whether they lived or died.
They didn’t even
have names. They had numbers.
He looked to
Vandre, whose grim expression made him sigh.
“I’m not dying
here,” she said. Almost under her breath. “I’ll kill myself first.”
“That’s the
spirit.”
He wished he could
feel her defiance. Instead, felt weary. Perhaps because of the blow he’d taken
to the head.
Something roared
overhead, making stone walls shudder. Scream of its passage cracked one of the
windows.
“Dragon,” she
said.
“Yeah, you didn’t
have to tell me that.”
Through the
window, light flashed. Pulsed in rapid bursts bright enough to make him squint.
The Dragon
shrieked again, swooping castle walls. Fire engulfed watchtowers. Consumed
stone. Ate flesh. Melted bone.
His fists
trembled.
“You can’t do
anything,” she said. Brushed his shoulder with fingertip. “Just wait. Nid will
get us out of here. And when he does, we’ll have our revenge on them. Their
suffering will be glorious.”
“You trust him?”
“Right now? Yes.
Tomorrow? No. Tomorrow, everything will be as it was.”
“You seem fairly sure
of that.”
“I am. Zeg’helvya won’t
let us die here.”
“She’s getting
weaker, you know. That’s why we’re losing everything. No one wants to talk
about it. But you can feel it. Can’t you? Tell me the truth. You feel it, too.”
The sorceress
opened her mouth to speak, then threw herself sideways as the windows were
blasted. Glass shattered, sending shards spearing through the room. Some hit,
and Hjalmyr let out a roar as they shredded his left arm before he had time to
react.
In the wake of the
explosion, five dark shadows spat deftly into the room.
White light
shooting from their hands.
Light as hot as
the sun.
It should have
killed him. But the worms inside had been triggered by glass penetrating flesh.
It whipped through his body, murmuring soft whispers into his brain.
He let out a
wordless growl as darkness gushed from expanding pores and covered skin in a
thin film of solid shadow.
The first bolt hit
his hand and was absorbed by darkness.
Second punched
into chest, sending him reeling back with the impact, but was also absorbed.
Third shredded the air beside his face before burying itself into stone. Melted
deep into wall before sizzling out of existence.
Vandre held both
arms out. A solid wall of black energy formed between her and the attackers.
Bolt after bolt of white light smashed into her shield.
The mitgerian
troops moved closer, ceaseless in their barrage. Hoping to overwhelm her barrier,
or work to getting around it and cutting her down.
Hjalmyr took a few
more hits.
Couldn’t take many
more.
Wouldn’t need to.
With a snarl, he
leapt on the closest trooper. Hands alive as shadows danced around his forearms.
Snatched throat.
Smashed fist into face, obliterating skull.
Fist cushioned
against brain before he tore wet hand free to grab a second by his shoulder.
Threw his first kill
aside.
The body crumpled
in a bloody heap.
The mitgerian
shouted something. A blur of words Hjalmyr couldn’t quite make out. The
darkness had covered his ears, muffling everything.
A wave of green
energy rippled at his back.
Whispers in his
head.
He kept hold of
his prize and leapt again as Vandre loosed magic on the remaining three.
Skin. Meat. Bone.
All disappeared
into a mist of red which hung in the air for a moment before spitting back at
the window from which they’d come.
Hjalmyr swung his trooper
by the arm.
Body hit stone.
Red smeared grey.
Swung again.
And again.
Blind with rage.
“Hjal?”
Swung.
Smash.
“Hjal.”
Red.
“Hjalmyr!”
Everywhere.
He stopped,
realising he was holding the mitgerian’s arm and nothing else. There wasn’t
anything left. The trooper was paste against the wall.
A few mounds of
gore puddled at Hjalmyr’s feet.
Trooper’s severed
head had rolled away. Lay, staring at the window. Any last thoughts were just
echoes of electricity firing through dead synapse.
Vandre leaned
against the wall. When she’d dropped her shield to blast the troops, she’d
taken a bolt to her chest. High. Red poured from the open wound.
“Ah, shit.” He
swept to her side, pressing hand against the steaming hole. As he did, shadows
retreated from his arms and face. “Shit.”
“I’ll be okay,”
she said through teeth. Arched her back as agony pumped through nerves. Black
worms began to fill the hole in her body, but he could see plasma surging in
her flesh. Pinpoints of light flickering as they burned. “But I can hear them
coming. They’re nearly at the door. And, Hjal? There’s a volkyrja with them.
You’ll need to kill her first. Kill her first. I’ll try to help, but I don’t
think I can do much.”
“I’m not a warrior,”
he said.
“You’re nifljean.”
Eyes blazed fierce. Wrapped cold hand over his fist. “We are all warriors.”
The door shattered.
Reduced to splinters as it was kicked open.
A volkyrja
sauntered into the room. Tough and arrogant. Looked at them with bright yellow
eyes. Long ears jutting like spearblades from her skull. Thick dark hair
knotted and tight. Body armor gleaming.
Ready for war.
Twisted mouth into
an ugly grin.
“Finally found
your little hiding place,” she said. “I knew you were around her somewhere. I
could smell your fear. Your kind are cowards at heart.”
Hjalmyr, Herald of
Chaos, stood tall. Let the darkness seethe across his flesh as it returned to
his arms. Vandre was right.
He was a warrior.
“If you smell
fear, then it’s the fear of those who stand with you.”
“Bah.” She rolled
her shoulders. Powerful. Like a wolf. Bunched and predatory. “They always stink
of it. They’re mitgerians. Shit. If it weren’t for us, they’d be whinging like
dogs at your feet. Them, I understand. But, you? Look at you. Frightened to
death. You’ve spent too long hiding behind Zeg’helvya’s power. We’ve cut you
off now, though. Your ships are being carved to pieces. Your armies are dead. You’re
alone. What’ll you do, nifljean? Will you fight? Or will you beg for your life
like a mitgerian slave?”
“Come find out.”
“Brave words.” She
crouched, ready to spring. Arm coiled in front of her. An arm which slowly and
impossibly began to seep darkness across flesh. She grinned at his shock. “Yeah.
See? You’re not unique anymore.”
She moved.
And light flashed.
Bloomed bright in
a blast so tremendous it consumed everything it touched. Apocalyptic roar as shafts
of darkness punched into the castle like black lightning from the sky. Into the
city. Flowered outward, impacting the ground to tear solid stone into
splinters.
With a heart
burning for destruction, the dark reached from the abyss and swallowed the city
in fire and hate. It pulsed again and again. Beating at the city’s bones in a
frenzy.
Splitting earth wide
to reveal vast chasms and craters.
Hammering stone to
dust.
Wind blasted
outward. Hot and thick with ash. Its exhale melted rock.
In the aftermath, the
ground heaved. Earth rumbled in throes of agony. Wounded and blackened by fire
and ash.
The broken city’s
walls lay strewn in all directions. Every building flattened and charred. A
monolithic corpse ravished. Torn to pieces.
Above, the sky
roiled. Clouds racing as they churned into each other. A stew of dark grey and
getting darker. As if the shafts of darkness which had assaulted the city now
worked to smother the sun.
When silence finally
returned, nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Not even wind.
Dead eyes bore
witness to the first snow drifting to crust the city’s carcass.
First flake
touched ground.
And the Night Age
began.
Comments