The Changing (15 page)

Beyond the vast forest, and further past the plains and whatever else might lay ahead, a range of mountains loomed in the distance, barely perceptible from this distance. Seth and Sara only knew of one range of mountains this vast. The range ran down the entire eastern border of Valdadore before turning west to create the kingdom’s southern border as well. If these were the Rancor Mountains in the distance, and the sun was behind Seth, then he was on the wrong side of them. If that were true, Seth had no idea what to expect in this foreign land. He knew not if people inhabited these lands, and if they did, what race they might belong to. The dwarves inhabited the mountains themselves, burrowing and tunneling far into the earth to mine metals and gems, but that was as far as his knowledge went. Here, on this side of the Rancor mountains, if indeed these were the same mountains he believed them to be, Seth had never so much as heard tales of what he might find in these lands.

It was apparent to Seth that at one time some race of man lived here; the ruins were proof of that. But why had they left? What type of people were they? Did they still inhabit this region? Though one of his questions might be answered, allowing them to choose a course to find their way home, such an answer made Seth imagine a million new questions to which he had no answers. Though his mind was beyond that of a normal mortal man, without information and understanding even his heightened mental abilities were useless. Knowing not what else to do, Seth decided it best to look around some more, to be sure there was nothing else that might lead him to believe that those mountains in the distance were not what they appeared. Taking Sara’s hand Seth began to lead her around the cylindrical chamber that was the pinnacle of the great pyramid structure when he found what it was that would be his biggest hindrance to getting home.

Stepping from behind the great chamber atop the stone surface of the pyramid Seth emerged into direct sunlight for the first time that morning. Instantly everything went black as his eyes began to burn uncontrollably and pain exploded in his head of the like he could only imagine could happen if his head had been cleaved in two. Freezing in his tracks Seth closed his eyes by instinct in an attempt to relieve the burning and the pain in his head. As soon as his eyes were closed the pain and burning subsided, but that was only an inkling of what was to come. A step behind, Sara emerged into the sunlight and was immediately wracked by unimaginable agony too. Though covered nearly entirely in the armor Seth had created for her, her hands remained exposed as did her head, neck and face having chosen not to wear her helm. As the rays of direct sunlight lit upon her naked flesh instantly her skin blistered, cracked and began to peel, revealing deeper portions of her flesh beneath that began to fester and burn as well. As Sara screamed a bloodcurdling, wretched scream of pain realization dawned on Seth. This was the ultimate sacrifice of saving the woman he loved. Though she had become more with the transformation, gaining strength and speed, as well as agility, so too had she become less. To sustain her body she now thirsted for blood, and to sustain her life she needed to siphon it off others like a leech of the wickedest form. But that seemed miniscule to what Seth realized at that very moment Sara screamed. Akin to the bats Seth had used to save her life, Sara’s body no longer held any immunity to the sun and as such, until he could repair the damage he had done to her, Sara would be forever banished into darkness, unable to withstand the light of day. With a portion of her altered life’s blood coursing through his own veins, Seth had become day blind, not capable of withstanding the sun's effects on his eyes. Reacting of necessity Seth dove back into the shadow of the building pulling Sara with him as she continued to scream in agony. Returning to the relative safety of the shade behind the structure, Seth opened his eyes once again to find his vision restored, though what he saw made him retch upon the stone beneath his feet.

Sara lay upon the stone panting heavily, crying and sobbing from the pain that had ravaged her body. One of her eyes lay destroyed, a thick yellow ooze leaking from the socket where it should have been. Entire chunks of her flesh and scalp had burned away revealing portions of bone and desiccated flesh beneath the surface where once was beautiful flawless skin. Her hair had burned and fallen away in patches leaving more and more flesh exposed to the sun where it too had blistered and cracked. Liquids and pus oozed from uncountable wounds upon her head, face and neck as blood had begun to run, but it also had burned away leaving scabby trails down what remained of her ruined flesh. Her hands were another gruesome wreck entirely. Though one hand, the one Seth had been holding, showed little sign of destruction, the other lay wasted, having nearly burned through completely. All that appeared to remain were bones held aloft by tendon and sinew with bits of charred and blistered flesh clinging here and there like a carcass left to rot in the sun for weeks. The sight was so gruesome Seth sat upon the stone at Sara’s side in shock, unable to act, and though his body threatened to make him retch again, it had nothing to purge as Seth had not eaten in days. Seth could not imagine how Sara survived, but doubted she would be able to live with herself if she were able to see what she had become. Seth sat frozen with Sara’s wrecked body at his side, as the woman he loved struggled to breathe through her destroyed face, sobbing loudly in pain though no tears came to bear witness to her misery.

Chapter 8

New Hope, New Enemy

Borrik and his men fled more than raced the day following the wretched deed they had inflicted upon the human women in the forest. None among the pack that Borrik led was left unashamed or unscarred by their actions. Though it was through instinct they had performed the deed, an instinct to perpetuate the pack, an instinct born of need for survival, their human sides screamed silently of the foulness they had done. It was a deed not to be put aside lightly, one that none would ever live to redeem. Though each of them individually struggled with inner turmoil, the men and women of Borrik’s pack of human wolf hybrids chose not to discuss the event openly. As they raced through the ancient forest eastward towards their master, climbing steadily uphill at a gut wrenching pace, it became clear that the events of the night before would haunt them all forever. As each member of the pack tried in vain to focus their minds on the task of keeping pace through the trees, each one of them, try as they might to relinquish the thoughts, would recall some stray memory of the night before. These memories were horrible, haunting images of women being brutally attacked and ravaged, and each time a recollection surfaced, it was shared with the pack consciousness and every member had to once again relive the event with a new wave of shame and guilt.

Though shamed and disgraced by his actions, Borrik raced headlong through the twisting and winding game trails of the forest wondering at what it was that had set him and his pack off like raging beasts. He imagined that the mushrooms in the grove outside the human settlement might have had something to do with it, or perhaps a particular scent had drawn them. Borrik knew he must find the reason so he could prevent such an occurrence from happening again. Though simply stopping a repeat performance would not be his salvation, he was not sure if he could endure the guilt and remorse multiplied.

Trying to concentrate once again on his surroundings Borrik raced ahead in huge, loping strides leading his troops ever eastward and upward through the ancient forest. As he raced he began to notice subtle changes in the terrain and atmosphere. Where once dense moss had carpeted the floor of the forest, now large rocks and boulders thrust up through the soil like bones of some great beast slain ages ago. Ferns and varying other forms of brush began to sprout here and there and eventually, as they progressed further uphill, the moss receded completely as the brushes and ferns took over the forest floor in entirety. The trees began to thin by midday, and the temperature dropped with each hour along with the previous humidity. Sunlight shone regularly through the canopy above as the trees became more and more sparse the higher the pack climbed.

It was late afternoon, having run all day with no breaks for food or rest, when catching the feline girls' scent once again Borrik broke free from the trees altogether to behold the Rancor Mountains in their path. Sniffing the air Borrik assured himself they needed to continue east, but knowing his men desired food and drink, he ordered a halt and gave orders telepathically to his men to be ready to begin anew within an hour's time.

Sharing their supplies as they had done before, each of the powerful wolf men and women quickly ate their fill and drank until their thirsts were satiated, and any packs emptied of supplies were left behind to rot. Supplies it seemed would not last but one more meal, but before an hour had passed the pack picked up their meager remaining supplies, and within seconds of stowing their wares were back on their feet, ready to leave, when the howling began. Instantly all members of Borrik’s pack lifted their noses to the air and began sniffing vigorously to catch a scent. Here the wind ran parallel to the mountain range swirling and careening around great stones, boulders and mountain tops alike and a scent could be borne upon the wind for miles. Catching the familiar scent of their comrades, Borrik’s own troops began to howl in reply, a great mournful crescendo that echoed and reverberated off the stone and trees around them.

Borrik had sent runners days before to gather up the rest of Lord Seth’s wolf troops and apparently the call was being heeded. Unsure of exactly how far away his comrades were, or how long it might take them to catch up, Borrik decided not to wait to find out. He needed to keep on the feline sisters' trail while it was fresh, for only they knew the location of their master, and Borrik was determined now more than ever that Seth needed him. Beginning anew Borrik began racing off up the mountainside heading once again ever eastbound. He led his men late into the evening as light began to fail, up the rocky terrain at a dangerous pace searching for two things; the sisters' scent and a pass through the mountains.

As the sun diminished over the horizon Borrik crested a rise, his feet scratching and clawing for purchase among the stone surfaces, and feeling a bit of success, as if it were an actual accomplishment, he beheld before him what it was he was seeking. Just as Borrik topped the rise he watched as the pair of feline sisters disappeared into what appeared to be a great crack between two of the immense mountains. From this distance, in the eerie twilight between day and night, the crack appeared but a narrow gouge between the great stone faces of two neighboring mountains, barely wide enough to permit the young girls. However as he and his men neared the pass Borrik realized, even in the now darkened night, that it was his perspective angle and distance that had made it seem so. But as Borrik led his men to the entrance of the pass, he was assaulted on three entirely different levels from three entirely different sources.

Springing from the darkened pass, nearly colliding with the wolf troops, the feline sisters of Seth’s creation bolted from the rocky gorge, springing and pouncing as fast as lightning right past the wolf men towards the forest below. Although as startling as their retreat from the pass was, the girls’ flight was simply the harbinger of the second assault on Borrik. Following the girls, carried by the wind created by their swift passage, was a scent that Borrik recognized. Many days previous, following the battle with the black horde, Borrik and his men had hunted another mountain pass to the south of the kingdom, chasing down and slaughtering their fleeing foes. Among the southern mountains Borrik had found this scent once before but it had been weaker, older, something from days past. Here and now, however, some living being that he had never put a name to was concealed within the pass. The scent warned of something large and carnivorous, but beyond that Borrik had no notion of what to expect within the darkened confines of the mountain. Whatever it was, it had scared the feline sisters into full retreat, and that was but the second thing that assailed Borrik. The third came from within his own mind.

As the cat-like sisters bolted past Borrik carrying with them the smell of some unforeseen danger, images and emotions flashed through Borrik’s mind of the forest below him where it broke from the trees. Dozens of Borrik’s troops had come to join them and were racing this very moment up the same mountainside he and his small pack had just finished climbing. They would arrive within the hour. Borrik was relieved to have reinforcements to help with this unnamed foe, but at the same moment his hopes were dashed as the ground beneath his feet began to shake and tremble, forcing him to bend his knees and lower his center of gravity lest he should lose his footing.

Subliminally Borrik ordered his troops to either side of the opening in the rock wall before them. Borrik was not a military veteran, but a few of the wolf men that called him alpha were. Borrik knew everything his pack knew, witnessed everything his pack witnessed, and experienced everything his pack experienced, and as such he knew more about military strategy than nearly any man alive. Setting up their ambush the wolf troops waited silently, as still as death, melting into the deepest, darkest shadows the giant rock walls afforded. None knew what enemy approached nor how many there might be. As the men waited images flashed across Borrik’s subconscious mind as his troops imagined what might be that approached them from higher up the mountain. Some imagined a great troop of oily-skinned orcs marching through the pass while others imagined it to be some great otherworldly beast that they had only heard of in tales. Borrik doubted all of their imaginings, though he himself dared not consider what this unseen foe might be, instead waiting for the creature to reveal itself.

As the pack waited somewhat anxiously, a new sound lent itself to the approach of whatever enemy it was that came to claim them. Along with the great pounding that shook the ground beneath their feet, now came a raspy, bellowing noise as if air was gushing through the dry leaves of a tree at the end of fall, or perhaps more like waves crashing upon the stones of a beach. As the unseen foe closed the distance through the dark pass, the pounding and rasping grew louder and louder and pebbles and rocks began to rain down on the wolf men from the mountainside above. Borrik could not believe what his senses were telling him. With each moment his body shook more with the approach of this unknown danger. With each pounding step the beast took, Borrik’s body fought to stay upright as if the earth was heaving beneath his feet straining his joints and muscles. However, Borrik would not need to endure the torturous wait much longer.