The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet (49 page)

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Authors: Richard A. Knaak

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BOOK: The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet
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“Damn!” he gasped. “Damn!”

And out of the ground burst a dozen tentacles of varying length and size. Whether they belonged to one monster or another did not matter, only that suddenly they snagged him by the legs, the arms, the torso, and the throat.

There was nothing he could do. Against their combined might, Achilios might as well have been a newborn baby. At this point, there was only one question as to his fate. Would the beast tear him to pieces—which might or might not actually finish the undead hunter, although it would certainly make him useless—or instead drag him down into the ground, a much more daunting prospect. Achilios had been buried once; he found the idea of a second interment frightening.

The tentacles tightened. Achilios felt his body strain. Dismemberment was the decision made by his captor. The archer perversely wondered if he should thank the demon for that choice.

A brilliant
golden
light suddenly turned the jungle brighter than day. Achilios felt a warmth such as he had not known even before death and which, because it actually
did
warm him, stunned the archer that much more.

But if it warmed Achilios, the light did much more to the beast. Now the thundering reached an ear-splitting crescendo. The tentacles shook and Achilios noticed burning flesh.

The demonic appendages shot back into the ground. The jungle shook…then stilled.

The golden light vanished…leaving a puzzled and very disturbed Achilios. He lay there for a moment, uncertain if either would return. When neither did, the archer stood.

However, no sooner had he done so, than Achilios experienced an odd sensation. Had he been living, he would have thought it vertigo.

His legs gave out. The world swam. Achilios tried to reach his bow—

And then all was blackness.

Eleven

Uldyssian had heard the voices for several moments now and although a part of him sought to react to them, his body would not obey.

“He has still not opened his eyes,” came what he vaguely noted as Mendeln’s voice. But that was not possible; Mendeln was lost to him. Uldyssian recalled thinking that he had heard Mendeln earlier, yet that, too, had to have been his imagination.

Have patience, young one. Her strike was as subtle as it was heinous

Even unconscious, Uldyssian jolted the moment that the second speaker voiced himself, for the words resounded in both the head and soul of the son of Diomedes. He must have moaned at the same time, for that which sounded like Mendeln suddenly grew excited.

“Did you see? He stirred! Uldyssian! Listen to me! Come to me! By our father and mother, you’ll not leave me like this!”

Mention of his parents finally caused Uldyssian to actually wake. He remembered how he had felt when Mendeln had vanished; if this was indeed his brother, he could not very well let him suffer so, not if it was in his power to do anything.

And then there was Serenthia…

That proved more than enough. With a cry, Uldyssian struggled free of the last vestiges of unconsciousness. Immediately his body was wracked with terrible pain. He rolled about and perhaps might have hurt himself in the process if not for hands grabbing him by the shoulder in order to keep his body still. Yet again he heard Mendeln.

“Be at ease, Uldyssian! Be at ease. It will pass…most of it, anyway…”

There is much within that will take longer. The demoness is a poison deep in his blood

“And I could have stopped her, if only you’d all have let me!” snapped Uldyssian’s brother. “I could’ve prevented so much!”

Not then. You would have been slaughtered and Uldyssian more in her grip

“But you said that she went in unsuspecting of the betrayal! That alone—”

A third voice intruded just as Uldyssian forced his eyes open. Vague shapes and much darkness greeted the battered man’s gaze.

“My mother is very adaptable, Mendeln ul-Diomed. You saw how quickly she turned potential defeat of her plan into a new and possibly more terrifying path toward her ultimate goals. Now she is nearer than ever to victory…and Sanctuary that much nearer to cataclysm.”

Some of the agony subsided, enough so that Uldyssian could finally focus. The first thing he saw gladdened his heart, for it
was
his brother. Mendeln wore an uncharacteristically broad grin and Uldyssian knew that he wore the same.

“I thought you lost forever,” the older brother told the younger.

“As I you.”

“Your sibling was always safe,” the third speaker interjected. In some ways, his voice was very similar to Mendeln’s in both tone and speech, yet there was something about it that bespoke of great age and a person who was not entirely human…if at all.

And when the figure joined Mendeln in gazing down at Uldyssian, the latter saw that this was no mere mortal. The face was too handsome, the features too perfect. Most of all, though, the eyes held more than great age…they were so ancient that Uldyssian immediately suspected the worst.

“He is no demon,” Mendeln quickly stated, recognizing his brother’s reaction.

“Although Lilith
is
my mother,” added the stranger.

With an animalistic growl, Uldyssian sought to grab the speaker. However, his body was too weak. Worse, intense pain coursed through him again, forcing him to lie back.

Only then did he notice the stars. Their positions were so different from what Uldyssian was familiar with, that he momentarily forgot the demoness’s offspring.

“Where—where are we, Mendeln?” Uldyssian finally asked. “I don’t recognize any of those.”

It was the son of Lilith who responded. “You are somewhere and nowhere.”

Such answers only served to stir Uldyssian back to anger. He did not trust being in the vicinity of a being who claimed Lilith as the one who had begat him. “And
who
are you? If not a demon, then
what
are you?”

“My name is Rathma,” the stony figure answered without preamble. “Although that is not the name given to me at birth, but rather the one placed upon me by another after parting from my parents’ ways. It means ’keeper of the Balance’ which is also my function and duty.”

Uldyssian had no idea what Rathma spoke about and cared less. “But Lilith
is
your mother…”

“And Inarius is my father. Yes, I see that name also fills you with dread. I bear no grudge for that, for both have become anathema to me as I am to them. As to
what
I am, I am a nephalem…one of the very first, in fact…”

The revelation should have struck Uldyssian harder than it did, but quickly he realized that it had not because, horribly aware of who Rathma claimed for his lineage, there was no other possible answer.

“You…you are like us…”

Rathma shook his head. “No, I am unlike you or any of those who follow you. I cannot explain, but what you call the ’gift’ has metamorphosed. There are abilities that I have that you do not just as you bear some I am lacking. I suppose this should not so surprise me since I am from the very first generation birthed on Sanctuary…”

So long ago as all that
, Uldyssian thought in awe.

Lilith’s son nodded as if having read the mortal’s mind, then added, “There are few of us remaining, for when only my father was left of the original refugees, he was strict in his punishment of those who used their powers. He insisted that his perfect world, his Sanctuary, would remain as
he
desired it…” Rathma shook his head. “But for one who is eternal, my father should have known that nothing stays static.”

That is enough for now
, came that other voice from both within and without Uldyssian. He pushed himself up, seeking the source…and his eyes for some reason looked to the stars above. For the first time, Uldyssian imagined that he even saw a shape formed by the celestial lights. Not a complete one, but enough to give the illusion of a vast, half-hidden beast. A reptile—no—something more than that. It was long and sinewy like a great snake, but the head reminded him of another creature straight out of myth—

A dragon…yes, it looked like some sort of serpentine dragon…

The stars shifted…and it seemed to Uldyssian that the half-seen behemoth now stared
back
at him.

Though we would all wish it otherwise, you are not well enough yet for more strain

Uldyssian swallowed, unable to believe his eyes, his mind, and his heart. “What—what are you?”

“He is
Trag’Oul
, brother,” Mendeln explained quietly. “Born in creation, defined when the angels and demons who came here formed Sanctuary. He is more its guardian than any other can claim.”

A simplified description, albeit most accurate

Oddly, the introduction of this celestial creature was not what most demanded Uldyssian’s attention. Hearing the dragon, then his brother, and recalling how Rathma had spoken…he felt as if he were listening to three extensions of the
same
being. Uldyssian looked from one to the other and the feeling only increased.

“Mendeln,” he muttered. “Mendeln, I want to leave here
now
. Both of us, I mean.”

“But we cannot, Uldyssian…at least not yet. There is so much to learn and you need recuperation.”

Rathma stood next to the younger son of Diomedes. “He speaks the truth. It would be unwise at this juncture.”

Uldyssian swallowed. Rathma and Mendeln looked more like brothers than he and his sibling did. The dark garments, the pale faces—and the nearly unblinking
gazes
—added further to the horrific effect.

Forcing himself to his feet despite the torture to his body, Uldyssian growled, “Mendeln! Look at you! Look at him! Listen to him and that—that thing!—and then yourself! They’re doing something to you!”

He felt his power rush through his body, fueling his emotions and strength. They had been wrong, his kidnappers. He was more than fit despite their games.

Raising his hands toward his brother, Mendeln replied, “No, Uldyssian! You must not do that—”

It was too late. Certain that not only were he and Mendeln trapped here for dire purposes but that his sibling was being turned into something to serve the dragon’s and Rathma’s needs, Uldyssian unleashed the raw forces within.

“You said he was too weakened by her to do this!” Rathma shouted, evidently to Trag’Oul.

He is different! They would all be different! They are no more nephalem than you are human! They are more

But the fantastic creature got no further, for then it was that the dragon’s empty realm shook as if some giant hand sought to turn it upside down. Uldyssian knew that he was the cause but did not care. He had to free Mendeln and him from this black prison—

As if responding to his thought concerning his dark surroundings, the elemental forces bursting from Uldyssian took on a blinding brightness. Above, Trag’Oul roared. Rathma uttered something in a language unknown and momentarily the brightness lessened. But Uldyssian, fearing that if his effort failed then all was lost, threw his will into restoring the light.

Around him, the very blackness suddenly began shredding as if torn cloth. Utter white at first replaced it…then a mountainous landscape erupted full-blown.

Mendeln called out to Uldyssian, but the two looked now to be separated by miles. Fearing to lose his brother again, Uldyssian attempted to draw back within him the energies he had released, but it was as if they now fought against him. The new landscape began to shiver and shake and seemed as ready as the blackness to shred apart.

But finally, Uldyssian managed to contain his powers. The effort sent him to his knees. His heart pounded and for a time his breath came in short gasps.

Then, slowly, he registered colder, drier air and soil much harder than that of the jungles. After having grown accustomed to the hotter climate near Kehjan, the change left him shivering. Only belatedly did Uldyssian finally regain enough control over his abilities to adjust himself to this new environment.

And new it was. He had thought at first that he had returned to the vicinity of his village, but nowhere around Seram were there mountains so great. In fact, nowhere that he had been looked like this region.

The sky was overcast, but Uldyssian could still see far enough to marvel at the landscape. No, definitely not near Seram, Kehjan, or anywhere else of which he had heard. Perhaps Mendeln might have—

Mendeln!
How could he have forgotten about his brother? Spinning in a circle, Uldyssian looked for any sign.

But he was alone in the strange land.

“Mendeln!” Uldyssian roared. “Mendeln!” When he received no answer, the son of Diomedes switched tactics. “Rathma! Where are you, damn you? You want me—you and that thing—well here I am! Me for my brother! What say you?”

His voice echoed throughout the mountains. Without at first realizing it, one particular peak caught his attention. It was taller, vaster than the rest, almost as if a king among kings. The more he looked at the mountain, the more he felt drawn toward it.

With a colorful curse at Rathma and Trag’Oul, Uldyssian turned his back on the peak. Nothing good could come of it, not if it somehow sought to call to him. He trod up the sloping land, glad that he had not switched to the garments of the Torajians. They were thin and airy, not suitable at all for this region. Even though he could keep himself warm, just wearing shirt, pants, and boots gave him additional mental comfort.

Uldyssian reached the top of the hill upon which he had found himself and searched both with his eyes and power for any nearby settlement. However, if there were any in the region, they were hidden from him. All he saw or sensed were trees, hills, and the mountain again.

Uldyssian stiffened.

Yes, there it was. Not
any
mountain, but the very same peak from which he had been retreating.

“More games!” He glared at the overcast sky, seeking the dragon. “I told you! Stop this now! Come for me if you want me!”

Again his voice echoed over and over, but still there was no reply. Uldyssian finally decided to get their attention.

Mustering his will, he clapped his hands together as hard as he could.

The resulting sound was like thunder, so loud, in fact, that it shook the trees and ground. Over and over it repeated, as if some massive but invisible storm swept through the area.

He waited, this time certain of success…but after several breaths, Uldyssian still stood alone.

“Damn you, Rathma!” Uldyssian roared. This time, though, his fury was spent. The echoes perished after only three or four repetitions.

Defeated, he knelt down by a rocky growth and buried his face in his hands. Each time Uldyssian began to believe he could face those arrayed against him, he was proven wrong.

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