The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1) (36 page)

It was so funny to watch Gorbin look for his familiar today. I mean I had to have something to practice my new sorcery on. I took Morton, his old, lonely owl, out beyond the pond last night and used Foul Rot on him. His feathers began to fall off. Then he started pecking at his own bare skin. Haha, he was eating himself for a nighttime snack! It wasn’t until after he tore out his own entrails that he realized what he had done. And Gorbin always used to tell us how smart owls were. At least there wasn’t too much to clean up!

- Journal of Kastor Char, Age 20

Kastor sat atop his unholy throne of bugs, bones, bodies, and broken twigs. He meditated as the Everglen rotted away beneath him. A small smile crossed his face. He opened his dark-purple, bloodshot eyes and said aloud to himself, “I’m so bored; I want to kill more people! This was so much fun. I think I’ll go to Haile and see if there is anyone left for me to murder.”

He closed his eyes again and muttered a brief incantation. He disappeared and his throne collapsed without his presence to maintain it. Kastor opened his eyes to the screams and cries of Razzius’ victims as he stood in the center of the dilapidated, rundown, almost completely destroyed city of Haile. He watched as the army that Razzius had talked about ran amok through the streets enforcing their master’s evil will, ensuring that none of his captives dare rebel. Piles of rubble were scattered throughout the streets, giving off an eerie ambiance even to the dark sorcerer. He made his way past legions of Sangres who snarled at the intruder. Kastor incinerated a few Sangres that tried to stop his progress. His powerful, lethal sorceries quickly deterred any others. He approached Razzius who was with Phillip surveying the carnage.

“What a glorious day, wouldn’t you agree, gentlemen?” Kastor asked, sauntering toward the two men.

“Kastor Char, to what do we owe this dubious pleasure?” Phillip asked sarcastically. Being around Kastor made him nervous; never knowing what the dark sorcerer was contemplating scared him.

“I assure you, gentlemen, that my intentions are pure of heart. A dark, depraved, power hungry one!” He roared with a diabolical laughter, and the other two men immediately took a step back, unsure of his current mindset.

“What do you want, Kastor?” Phillip asked.

“I will tell you, but first you must call me by my proper title. Go ahead try it; I think you will like it. Kastor the Insane, Dark Master of the Neverglen.” His voice again sang with a sickly laughter as he waited eagerly to hear them repeat it.

“Damn it, Kastor, we don’t have time for this-” Phillip began.

Kastor cut Phillip off by hurling a dark bolt of energy at him. The blast sent Phillip flying through the air. He crashed to the ground. He struggled to get up and he silently limped back to the group, rubbing his jaw. Phillip was now even more terrified of Kastor and his unpredictable behavior.

“You will address me by my proper title, boy, or next time I will not be so gentle!”

Razzius stepped forward and said in a serious tone, “Kastor the Insane, Dark Master of the Neverglen, what do you want?”

Kastor’s dark face lit up upon hearing his newly anointed title spoken by another person. He craved the ego trip. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I have been waiting to hear that since I first discovered how much fun it is to be bad. I need a simple favor from you, Razzius. I am quite bored sitting around in the Neverglen all alone and I would like a game. I would like to hunt some of your cattle. Could you free some of your prisoners for me?”

“Are you insane?” Razzius asked. He immediately realized his mistake.

“Have you taken over Haile?” Kastor responded, forcing Razzius to affirmatively answer his own question.

“And, what will you do if I refuse?” Razzius questioned further.

“Well…I guess I’ll have to destroy your castle and all those ugly paintings,” Kastor taunted.

“You don’t leave me much choice, you know.” He turned to Phillip and commanded, “Go to the dungeon and bring back some of the prisoners that we captured earlier.”

“But, Razzius, I just…”

“Do it now, Phillip!”

“Very well, but tell Kastor to keep his hands, and his magic, off of me,” Phillip grumbled as he hurried off, not wanting to experience the wrath of Razzius Grimm or of Kastor Char.

Kastor and Razzius stood there for a long time exchanging looks and snickers and laughs. Every time Razzius went to look away from Kastor, the dark sorcerer would chuckle, mocking his fear. Kastor had changed drastically since Razzius saw him last. The dark energies had begun to permanently manifest themselves on his body. Razzius was repulsed as he noticed Kastor’s arm, which was covered in multiple gooey, blinking eyes. Kastor’s charred, scarred face and singed skin was a revolting, grisly sight that caused Razzius to want to turn away.

“I want you to watch me, Razzius. Tell me how I do. Show me approval when I do well and scold me when I perform badly.” Kastor began to dance and twirl about, his sick smile growing ever larger as he howled in a loud, angry voice, “Scold me, Razzius! Scold me for being a bad boy! Cast me out just like those sheep that I slaughtered! Make me suffer; it makes me stronger! Beat me! Hit me! Cut me! Hate me! Berate me! I’ve been a bad boy, Razzius, and I need to be punished!”

“Kastor, you are a true monster!” Razzius whispered to himself in astonishment. He could see that the sorcerer had been completely corrupted by his embrace of the dark sorceries.

“Cut me!” Kastor cried out suddenly, holding out his uninfected arm toward Razzius.

Razzius was stunned at Kastor’s morbid request, but drew his sword and slashed at the dark sorcerer’s uninfected arm. Kastor’s skin tore open and blood rushed out, flooding the rock covered streets at his feet. Kastor cried out in ecstasy as a look of pure pleasure came across his face. “Oh, yes, Razzius, do it again! Harder! More!”

Razzius slashed Bloodletter’s hungry blade repeatedly at Kastor who finally screamed, “Wait! Wait! I’m so close, Razzius; I don’t want to finish yet!”

The words repulsed Razzius. He immediately sheathed his sword and took a step away from the dark sorcerer. “You are insane, Kastor!” he shouted, stepping farther away from Kastor’s bleeding arm.

Kastor continued to dance, adjusting the dead rabbit atop his head. “Evil feels great; you should give it a try! You miserable cowards cling to life like disease clings to a rat. Embrace the evil that envelops you, do not push it away! I can sense it all around you, a deep darkness, a great evil, death itself! Give in, Razzius! It is only through complete assimilation that you will become evil incarnate.”

Kastor’s words were cryptic. Razzius didn’t have much time to ponder them as Phillip returned with a group of prisoners. Catherine was among them. Phillip approached Kastor, leading the prisoners at sword point. He motioned for them to line up in front of the sorcerer.

“Here you are, Kastor, your prisoners as you requested,” Phillip mumbled.

Kastor waived his hands across the entire group. Their shackles broke and looks of relief came across their faces. Kastor smiled, his black teeth showing as he roared with glee, “Now run, my little sheep! Run before the big bad wolf finds you!”

The feeble prisoners all took off in different directions, scrambling about and tripping over each other. Catherine just walked past Kastor, attempting to ignore him, hoping to get out of range and view by moving slowly. She knew what he was doing, she could sense it. She had heard Phillip refer to the dark sorcerer as Kastor, and she remembered the story that Galvan had told her. She heard screams begin as Kastor targeted his first victim, a young man about fifteen years old. She watched in horror as black tentacles erupted from the dark sorcerer’s body. The shadowy whips raced toward the boy. They encircled him, cornered him near a wall where they perforated his body like a piece of balsa wood. He collapsed to the ground in a mangled heap.

Kastor turned and began to skip down the streets. He looked around and noticed a few Sangres approaching some of the freed prisoners. “Do not touch my quarry!” he commanded as he danced and laughed and threw dark flames that ignited the beasts, killing the Sangres instantly.

The Sangres began to turn their attention to him. But Razzius did not want to engage in a civil war. “Do not interfere with Kastor’s prisoners!” he commanded his loyal servants. The Sangres obliged their master immediately, and left the freed prisoners to an even worse fate.

Kastor found another victim, a young woman no older than Catherine. He walked right up to her as she tried to look away and escape him. Kastor stepped in front of her and she walked into him, bumping him back slightly. He patted his robes and glared at the young woman.

“You have dirtied my royal robes, young lady, and I shall expect compensation,” Kastor said sadistically. He grinned menacingly.

“You’re already going to kill me…what more do you want?” the woman asked meekly, cowering in fear.

Kastor looked deep into her eyes and growled, “I want your soul.”

Suddenly, he reached out and plunged his hand into her chest. The young woman screamed in anguish. It was a pain that all the other prisoners could see on her face, one that scared and even enraged them. Kastor looked at her innocently for a moment and said, “Such a shame to have to kill such a beautiful woman…oh well!”

He pulled out his hand, which was clenched tightly around her heart. He struggled to rip it out of her chest. It still clung to her now lifeless body as she slumped to the ground. Kastor held her body up by the veins from her heart.

“Does anybody have a knife!?” he yelled, still holding the heart as he looked around. “Of course you don’t, you are all useless…useless I tell you!” He placed a foot against the corpse to steady himself. He began to tug on the heart, ripping and tearing at it until finally he freed it from its fleshy prison.

Splat!

The sick sound echoed throughout the city. Upon witnessing this, most of the other prisoners realized that they would share a similar fate. They rushed Kastor, intent on killing him.

“You evil monster!” an older man yelled as he approached the dark sorcerer, fist held in the air.

“You won’t get away with this!” another woman screamed. She grabbed a rock and ran toward the menacing dark master.

“Sticks and stones will break my bones, but you will never reach me!” Kastor squealed. All of the approaching villagers instantly stopped in their tracks. They had been petrified.

Catherine looked on in horror. Some of those people were her friends, but now they had been turned into stone statues. “Why?” Catherine said to herself. She stopped and stared at Kastor’s garden of stone human ornaments.

Kastor weaved his way through the small maze of petrified people, brushing his hands over them as he smiled and danced. “Do you know what makes this all so special, little girl?” he asked. He stopped and rested his arm on a statue of an older man.

Catherine couldn’t speak. She was too scared and her body was shaking too hard. Catherine knew she was going to die; there was nothing she could do against the overwhelming power of the dark sorcerer. She felt helpless, like no matter what she did the outcome would be the same. She was running out of time and her mind was blank.

“There is nothing you can do to stop me!” Kastor answered for her. As he finished his words, he turned and waived his hand across the stone crowd; they crumbled and exploded into little pieces. “I’m invincible!” he howled.

Catherine turned and started to run, glancing back over her shoulder in fear. She heard his voice call out through the streets; it boomed loudly as though it was following her from the sky. “Run all you like, my little lamb; I’m a big bad wolf and I’m coming to get you!”

Suddenly, Kastor appeared in front of Catherine, who skidded to a stop and backtracked quickly. “You cannot escape me little girl. Now give up, give your soul to me.”

“Never! I will never give in to you! He will come for me! He will save me! Galvan will stop you!”

Kastor’s expression changed dramatically upon hearing her finish her last sentence. His eyes darkened with anger, and his gleeful smile morphed to a dismal frown. He reached toward her and clenched his hands around her neck, choking her. She gasped for air and struggled to breathe as he clamped his gnarled fingers harder and harder around her soft throat. He could see his face in her eyes as they bulged from her skull. Even in death Galvan still haunted him. That realization enraged him even more.

“No one is going to stop me!” he snarled, his voice soaked in hatred. He continued his assault on her. “You little bitch; I’m going to kill you! I’m going to choke you to death, then bring you back to life, then gut you like a pig, then bring you back again, just to watch as you die in your own guts and feces once more!”

Catherine was beginning to fade away. She couldn’t breathe. Blackness crept into her vision; her lungs pleaded for air.

Suddenly, a bolt of pure energy erupted from out of nowhere, striking Kastor and twirling him away from his prey. Catherine fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. She struggled back to her feet and turned to see her savior.

Smoke covered the streets now, and a shrouded figure stood, obscured by a billowing fog. Loud footsteps echoed through the streets. A soft whistling grew gradually louder as it appeared to be approaching Kastor and Catherine.