Broken Blades Don't Sing (Tales of Ashkar Book One) (36 page)

Serraemas swung his staff faster than they could
reach him, and they were no more. Surprise no longer to his
advantage, Serraemas rushed into the cavernous basement to meet his
enemy.

Candles littered the room, flickering on the
walls that were marked with unholy words and drawings. Around him
laid the slain corpses of dozens of humans. They all wore dark red,
hooded robes that covered them from head-to-toe. What was once full
of life, however, was drained; their bodies were withered as if
they had been slain at an old age, their very essence sucked out to
summon the demons that they worshipped.

In the center of the room was the grimoire he
sought, opened up to reveal its dark secrets with a pentagram drawn
in the ground below it. Around the open book stood a few of the
cultists that were still alive—at least for the time being. They
continuously summoned the fiendish creatures, with what looked to
be some sort of portal in the center of the room that allowed the
demons to enter their world. On the other side, one could catch
glimpses of Hell itself. Fires burned within a desolate wasteland
as creatures of nightmare crawled, walked, and flew about.

While they looked to number in the hundreds of
thousands, if not millions, it seemed that the only demons allowed
through were those loyal to the one responsible for the ritual. As
far as Serraemas was aware, the only way for a portal to be opened
from Hell to Ashkar was if it was opened from this side. Mere
cultists were not capable of this kind of feat alone, which meant
that Aramal—or rather, the demon behind this—must have found a way
to reach Aramal. With the grimoire, they were able to bring
entities into Ashkar that did not belong here.

Next to the cultists was none other than the
rugged traveler that had eluded Serraemas for so long. He was
reading from the book, holding his blade in one hand and skimming
through the content of the grimoire with the other. So focused was
he that he failed to notice Serraemas until the elementalist
stepped forth and generated shards of ice above him.

Aramal looked up, and surprise flashed across
his face upon realizing that he had been found. His shock lasted
but a fraction of a moment before he brought up his weapon
defensively. The disheveled man looked just as weary as when they
met last, and even swayed slightly from exhaustion—or perhaps it
was from consuming a fair amount of alcohol. "It's already begun.
You've failed." Aramal then spat out a few words directed at his
weapon, as if arguing with his own blade. Whether it was simply
drunken stupor or something else, Serraemas did not know, nor did
he care.

"Not quite", Serraemas muttered under his
breath. He brought down his arms, and the slivers of ice raced
toward his foes.

The same dark energy from the battle at Bellis
shielded both the cultists and the book-carrier himself. Aramal
scoffed at Serraemas before bursting into laughter. "Surely you can
do better than that." The cultists continued reciting their
incantations from the grimoire, and the air around them grew
heavy.

"Vos egnell bashuun xala", they said in unison,
over and over again. From the other side of the portal appeared a
demon far more vile than the others. With both hands it gripped the
edges of the portal and pulled itself through like one did with an
open window. This one had a much larger stature than the rest, its
head almost reaching the ceiling of the room. Unlike the other
demons, it wore armor—armor made out of a metal not native to
Ashkar—that covered the more vital areas. A collection of three
horns jutted out from its head, imitating a crown.

"Ah, the little cretin that wishes to defy me",
spoke the new entity, his voice deep and distorted, but clearly
masculine. Behind him, the men slumped to the ground in exhaustion.
Summoning this particular one took a heavy toll, and even Aramal
rasped for air. It looked as if he had aged another ten years.

"You have been a thorn at my side for far too
long", continued the demon. “A persistent, little ant that is
begging to be crushed under my foot.”

"Orbo, you… you son of a bitch…" wheezed Aramal.
He collapsed onto the floor, barely able to even keep himself
upright. "Using my… my own essence to bring yourself out?"

The demon looked back at his benefactor. "You're
all the same. Conceited, as if you are the center of the universe.
The races of Ashkar couldn't be further from the truth, and that
will be your pathetic downfall."

Serraemas gritted his teeth, completely
disregarding what Orbo had just said. "Did you just call me
little
?"

---

"You survived?!" clamored Raxxil in between
swings of his hammer. Unfortunately, the sea of demons would not
allow them any reprieve to converse properly.

Samantha wore an eye-patch that covered her
right eye. Across her face was a scar that ran from above her right
brow down to her left cheek, which seemed to be the only evidence
of her fatal wound. It was a miracle that she was here now, but her
expression was rueful, and she said nothing. She had already
released her weapon, rushing in front of Raxxil straight into the
fray. Her second-in-command followed suit, providing his aid to
stem the tide.

Raxxil followed Samantha and engaged their
enemies side-by-side. In between attacks he watched her movements,
and it seemed that she was still recovering physically. The
lieutenant wasn't nearly as poised, nor as quick as she was before.
She also appeared more hesitant, as if she had entered her first
fight ever. She exaggerated some movements to evade blows,
particularly those reaching for her head.

One of the two greater demons had caught up to
them. He set his sights on Samantha, and raised his axe high into
the sky before slamming it down where she stood. The brash young
woman leapt backward to dodge the attack, and the axe sliced the
air where she stood a moment before. The large weapon crashed into
the ground, breaking the cobblestone and creating a sizable
hole.

Samantha was beset, however, and she had just
jumped into more demons. She whirled around and thrust out her
sword, slashing in a wide circle. It was not enough. They closed
in, maws and claws hungering to rip flesh.

Damn it, Samantha!

Raxxil took a deep breath, then threw his hammer
in her direction. It whizzed past her and collided with dozens of
the demons, crushing them instantly. Raxxil then lunged to where
Samantha stood, picking her up and rushing to safety.

With the little one tucked in his left side and
Samantha now on his right, Raxxil groaned. "One of you is already a
handful…" He turned his head to where the sergeant was battling.
"Hey old man, fall back!"

The second-in-command obliged, and their bold
stand gave way to chase again. Behind them, the cackling horde of
demons found it none too pleasing that the humans were fleeing once
more, and they scrambled after the four.

Shouts now rang from across the city as its
inhabitants were roused by the sound of battle, finally realizing
that they were under attack. A little town like Bellis might not be
a match for demons, but Merchant's Keep would be able to hold
against the lesser minions for some time.

Time, something that Raxxil didn't have the
luxury of.

Once they had some distance, Raxxil gently
released Samantha. He looked deep into her remaining eye furiously,
expecting the young woman to lash out at him. When he saw a torrent
of emotions, the least of which was anything akin to anger, he
withdrew.

"I... I am sorry", she said as she looked away.
"I was overcome with grief. All I wanted was revenge, and it nearly
got me killed again. If it wasn't for all this, I would still have
my father."

Raxxil's eyes softened. "I met him at Enorra.
What happened to him?"

Tears made their way down Samantha's youthful
face.

Raxxil sighed and placed both hands on her
shoulder plates. "You never forget, and the pain doesn't go away,
but I promise you that you can overcome it and find purpose in your
life. Take the little one and get to safety. Find me when this is
over." He looked at Tanaria, smiled at her warmly, and patted her
on the head.

Samantha nodded, still sobbing uncontrollably.
She sheathed her weapon, then crouched down and picked Tanaria up.
The old man also nodded, and the three of them whisked past Raxxil.
He didn't look back, instead focusing on the relentless demons that
approached.

"Hey Vrand!" he shouted in his mind. "Guess
what?"

"IS IT TIME?!" replied his ever eager elemental.
"BURN?!"

"You bet your ass it's time to burn!" Raxxil
returned excitedly. He raised his arms and cupped his hands
together. The burning elementalist focused his energy for a few
moments until a concentrated ball of flame formed in his hands.
Instantly, his core temperature—and the immediate air around
him—grew colder as heat was condensed into a dense form.

Manipulating the fire element came with a cost,
as it required taking heat from the environment, and even one’s own
internal energy at times if the environment did not support that
particular element or when using special techniques that required
an exorbitant amount of energy—like the one he was using now.
Raxxil would have to be careful, ensuring that he didn’t lose too
much heat and risk suffering hypothermia. He continued pouring
energy into the ball, and it pulsated as it grew slightly larger
and larger. By now, Raxxil was beset by the mass of shadowy
figures, and he grinned gleefully.

"Come on over, boys!" he taunted after them. "I
want you to check this out, it's called the First Flame of the
Golden Son!"

They lunged at him from all directions. What
they didn’t realize was that they were already dead.

Raxxil released the orb, which had grown to be
the size of a fist, and it floated upward for just a few moments
before it exploded. The size of the flame belied its power, and the
resulting explosion was so large it engulfed several blocks. A huge
billow of smoke rose into the air, but Raxxil was hardly fazed.
Fires roared around him and illuminated his features as he stepped
among the rubble, looking for his hammer. A couple blocks later, on
the edge of the plume of smoke, he saw its silhouette. He reached
for it, pulled it up, and then rested it on his shoulder.

Raxxil smiled. "It really was a bit chilly out,
but damn did that do the tri—"

Sensing movement from behind, Raxxil whipped
around to regard two figures that slightly rose above him. The two
distinct demons had survived the blast, but not without injury.
Plate and shadowy flesh alike were singed. Neither of them looked
too happy about that.

"And here I thought you guys were just a bunch
of pussies", Raxxil jeered, but he was not going to wait for a
response. "Erupt in blazing fury, Vrand!" His weapon transformed
into its true state, and once again he was welcomed by its fiery
aura.

"A mouth to match your arrogance", admonished
one of the demons with a raspy voice. It brought its large weapon
back, then swung it in a horizontal arc. Raxxil crouched, the axe
passing over his head harmlessly, then threw his hammer at the
second demon. It crashed into the demon’s chest, causing a fiery
explosion and pushing the monstrous figure in its path before both
collided into a building. The structure collapsed, and stone, wood,
and rock toppled over onto the ground.

Without stopping, Raxxil kicked off with his
legs and barreled into the first demon, who was still recovering
from his wide swing. The two collided, and Raxxil used his momentum
to push his adversary through several houses before stopping. He
picked the stunned demon up with both hands, then brought him close
and performed a brutal head-butt. The dark figure grunted in pain
as he reeled back from the blow.

Raxxil leaned back, took a deep breath, and felt
his aura blazing with energy. He lurched forward and radiated the
energy welling within him, expelling a stream of lava from his
lips. The superheated substance gushed over the demon. Howls of
fury and pain reverberated in the night as the monster slowly
melted. What once stood as a menacing demon was now reduced to a
pile of ash.

Movement from behind alerted Raxxil. He peered
over his shoulder, noticing that the second demon had survived and
rejoined the fight. With axe raised high, the monstrous figure
brought his arms down as hard as he could. Raxxil leapt back to
evade—

The edge of the weapon still caught him. It sunk
into his plate, splitting it in half. His chest throbbed in pain as
he felt crimson flow from the wound. Raxxil grunted and threw off
his armor, exposing his defined upper body. The monster chuckled
with glee and muttered something incoherent as it raised its arms
and pointed at Raxxil.

A blast of dark energy flew at Raxxil. He dashed
to the right, avoiding the blast. Another kick from his powerful
legs, and Raxxil lunged at the demon with blazing speed. He cocked
his arm back, then threw a right hook at the ugly bastard's face.
His fist smashed into shadowy flesh, and the demon staggered back
as he released his grip on the large axe. The weapon fell to the
ground with a loud thud.

Despite the powerful blow, the monster recovered
quickly, and returned the kind gesture with a strike of his own. It
caught Raxxil on his face, his head whipping back from the attack
as he took a step back to steady himself. The fiery elementalist
regained his composure, and the two traded blow after blow for what
seemed like forever. Sweat poured down Raxxil's face and his
breaths grew heavy from exertion. His muscles ached, screaming for
him to stop.

A shadowy fist collided with his jaw. Raxxil’s
world spun in circles, and he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as
he landed harshly on the ground. A wicked laugh filled his
ears.