Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
Twisting to escape his fallen body, Sara extracted herself as quickly as was possible. Avoiding his hands that sought to restrain her, Sara lashed out with one of her short swords. The blow struck the bottom edge of the knight’s helm, driving it up and off his head, her blade flaying flesh from bone the whole way. As the helm toppled from his head, it carried with it the entire right side of his face, including flesh, ear, and hair. Taking with it also skin and muscle, nothing was left behind but bare bone. Though blessed by the god Gorandor, the knight replicas could not help but to each scream out in pain as the injuries were shared by each replica. Sara was incredibly fast, but the delay of the knight falling atop her had been enough for two more replicas to lend themselves to the fight.
Blow after blow rained down upon Sara but with her speed and strength she parried or blocked each one with seemingly little more than a thought. Again and again she avoided blows that would have felled many a warrior, but seconds into the fight a third replica made its way into the fray, lending two more swords and another direction that Sara had to defend herself from. Twirling and twisting Sara danced within the circle created by the three knight replicas and the ring of metal upon metal sang out through the air repeatedly. Dodging yet another wave of strikes as the fourth replica joined in, Sara crouched to the ground, bending her knees, and flung herself forward.
“Jump,” she yelled as she was about to make contact with one of the replicas.
Like a bolt from a giant piece of artillery, Sara exploded forward through the air smashing bodily into the replica and driving it backwards more than fifty yards with the velocity of her magically propelled jump. Alone again with a single opponent, Sara took little time driving the copy of her instructor further from the fight before leaping back into the fray.
Sara was born for battle, and with her new body, she was able to prove it night after night as her injuries seemingly vanished, and she moved like water one second, and a rampaging bull the next. Like a nightmare creature born into the night, Sara sprang back into action, this time putting her opponents on the defensive.
Dancing from one adversary to the next like a whirlwind of blades, Sara managed to drop another replica to the ground with a powerful strike before Malik managed to land a blow that evened the odds a little.
Rushing Sara from all sides the nearest four replicas began to batter the woman like crazy berserkers, but the attack was only a ploy. Leaving Sara an opening on one of his replicated selves, Malik waited until Sara took the bait, and as she did, he struck out at her from the three remaining sides all at once. Though two of his attacks turned up fruitless, with Sara managing to block them both at the last second, the third drove a blade through her armor, deep into the side of her knee, seriously limiting her use of one leg and slowing her tremendously. Malik was not a fool, and released the blade, leaving it in the wound as the woman shrieked in sudden pain. With the blade stuck in her joint she would be unable to heal. However, the move had cost him another blow to his already injured shoulder.
Sara managed to fend off the three remaining replicas’ attacks for several moments as the remaining five closed in once again, but further injury was inevitable. Without the ability to remove the blade from her knee, having to constantly defend herself, Sara ended up taking a knock to the side of her head. It did not hurt so much as distract her, the sound echoing in her helm causing her head to immediately begin to ache. The distraction led her to sustain yet another injury; Malik effectively disabled her remaining viable leg by slicing through the tendon at the back of her heel. As Sara fell, the three replicas closed in on her, each thrusting a blade in her direction. With three blades pressed to her throat, Sara was forced to surrender the match.
Reaching down to her leg, Sara extracted the blade from her knee finally, and waited patiently as her body took over the process. Within moments the wounds began to mend. She had lost the first round, but she learned quickly from her mistakes, and the night was young. By morning she would lose six more matches, but she would also win four. Not quite half and half, but for less than two weeks of training, Sara was happy with the results.
As the sky began to lighten, the area surrounding the knight’s sparring grounds became a mass of commotion and action. The king was getting ready to march his army to the west. Knowing they each had last minute preparations to make, Sara and Malik shook hands at the wrists like comrades, and releasing Daniella from her healing duties, Sara strode off the sparring field towards the Temple of Ishanya. Jonas matched her pace and fell into stride beside her. Sara had not noticed when he had arrived that night. Usually he was there to witness the entire training session, but this night her sworn bodyguard had arrived late.
“How is my husband, Jonas?” Sara asked.
“He is well, m’lady. He has been very busy this night,” replied the wolfman.
“He is always busy lately, is he not?” Sara asked playfully.
“Yes, but yesterday, and last night, your husband proved himself more than a mortal. He has been creating champions, m’lady.”
“Dare I ask?” Sara questioned rhetorically.
“You will see soon enough,” Jonas replied.
Though they walked at a very brisk pace, about halfway to the temple Jonas informed Sara that Seth had left the temple with all of his men and sought the western gate to exit the city. That being so, all Sara and Jonas needed to do was wait where they currently were, and Seth and two dozen of his werewolf troops would intercept them.
For many long moments they waited, standing beneath the canopy of a large tavern when Jonas snarled as if defensively, then, shaking his head, he snatched Sara by the arm and dragged her bodily back into the street.
“We must hurry,” the werewolf growled. “Borrik has returned and Seth rushes to meet him.”
“Why, then, must we hurry?” Sara asked, her lithe body easily keeping pace with the werewolf.
“He has brought giants to Valdadore, driving them to his master.”
The sky was growing bright, the streets already beginning to fill with those rising to perform their daily tasks. Looking ahead, Sara pulled down the visor to her helm, protecting her eyes and face from the sun’s devastating rays.
“Of course Borrik would be bringing giants to Valdadore,” Sara shouted in jest. “Why on Thurr would he not?”
With that Sara began to pump her legs faster, each stride stretching out unnaturally. Jonas dropped to all four of his massive limbs to keep pace. Together the dark princess and the feral beast of a man raced through the streets of Valdadore, sending people scattering amidst screams of panic. It took less than a quarter of an hour to reach the gate. As the frightful pair left the city they could see, in the distance ahead, a man dressed in black upon a great white war horse galloping away from the city, accompanied by wolfmen, as large forms appeared on the horizon.
* * * * *
Borrik ran like a crazed beast across the fields growing ever nearer to Valdadore. For days he had been running from the enormous four-armed monsters on his trail, and though he could set a pretty impressive pace, the giants needed only one stride to his many. So it was as Borrik began to tire, his muscles straining beyond their limits, that he used his telepathic connection to his men within the city to relay a message to his master. Seth had answered his call and even now Borrik could see him charging across the fields towards him, a pack of werewolves leaping and barking to either side of their master.
Seth had commanded him to bring him beasts with traits that Borrik himself would want in order to become a champion unlike any other. Immediately Borrik had known what it was he wanted, and so he had run with all haste in a direct path to the mountains where he could find the massive race of men. Locating a small tribe, little more than a family really, Borrik had set fire to their enormous dwellings created of woven trees and vines. After destroying their homes it had taken little effort to get the clan of giants to chase him. Borrik had not anticipated their stamina, however, thus he had been running for near four days straight without a single stop to eat, drink or even to relieve himself. Even so the giants were gaining on him, but they would not reach him before his master did.
Exhausted beyond measure, Borrik could not help but smile, baring the rows of razor sharp teeth within his canine mouth, as Prince Seth, upon a great imperial war horse, skidded to a stop just twenty yards in front of the alpha werewolf.
* * * * *
Though he realized the situation was dire indeed, and Borrik was in great need of help, Seth could not help himself but to laugh openly when given the message of his second-in-command’s plight. Only Borrik would seek out a clan of giants and attempt to single-handedly lure them to the city of Valdadore. Knowing time was of the essence, Seth gave orders for the streets to be cleared. Changing his course, he intercepted a member of the army of one rank or another, and commandeered the soldier’s mount. With his men racing ahead to clear the streets, Seth made it to the gates of the city in no time, and exploded from the outer wall, his mount propelling them forward at an astonishing speed. Fortunately for Seth the army was now gathered at the western gate of the city, and Borrik came from the east, making it an open path ahead to the giants that he could already see growing on the horizon.
Just a few minutes later Seth picked out Borrik’s fleeing form, and counted seven giants on his tail. To either side of him his hybrid troops lunged parallel to his course, all of them racing upon all four limbs, their clawed fingers and toes digging into the soil with each bound. Each of his troops was already amazing, yet he planned to make a few of them even more so. Racing ahead, nearing his second-in-command with each moment, Seth noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see another familiar sight.
More than a mile away from Borrik, though running parallel to him, was a pair of slender bodies bounding through the fields towards Seth, covering great expanses of ground with each leap. The pair of exotic feline girls had been missing for weeks, though Seth was not concerned. It was their words that had reassured him that when needed, they would be present. A kitty always knows where its master is. It seemed all of his creations would be in attendance for the upcoming battle with King Sigrant.
As Borrik and the feline sisters converged on their master, the girls altered course to avoid the pack of werewolves, but Borrik appeared as if he was going to run straight into Seth. Fearing this might actually be the case, Seth pulled on his reins hard, his mount plunging its hooves into the soft soil beneath it and literally sliding to a halt as the great charcoal-colored werewolf screeched to a stop as well, and bowed low to greet his master.
“My sacrifice to your cause, my prince,” Borrik panted, his arm sweeping through the air, gesturing at the huge beasts that pursued him.
As if to prove the werewolf’s point, the ground began to shake and heave as the massive giants grew nearer. Seth simply smiled at Borrik, shaking his head in disbelief.
”They are a great prize indeed, Borrik, and I assure you, you will be rewarded,” Seth stated, already locking on to his first target.
With a thought, the nearest giant crumpled to a pile of ash the size of a small house. Seth reveled in the pleasure that coursed through his veins as the life of the giant flowed into him. A giant it seemed required an immense amount of power to sustain its life, and these seven alone would equate to hundreds of human lives. Locking the power away, Seth chose another target and then another. Within naught but a few moments, the giants were no more, leaving nothing but discarded belongings and ash behind to bear witness to the fact they had ever existed at all. His task completed, Seth turned his horse and raced back towards the city without a word. To either side a small contingent of his werewolf troops raced on all fours, as if their living god might need their protection.
Halfway across the expanse between where he had felled the giants and the city gate he had exited, Sara and Jonas joined him. Seth was caught quite off guard as he raced towards Sara, when she leapt into the air. Grabbing his shoulder as she fell from the sky, she twisted her body around to sit behind him upon the saddle, wrapping her arms around him tightly. It seemed to Seth that at present there was little Sara could not manage when it came to physical abilities. She was becoming more and more comfortable with her new body.
Before reaching the city gates Seth turned his mount to race around the city walls, assuming it would be faster to circumvent the city than ride through its crowded streets. With the army preparing to march, Seth still had much he wanted to accomplish before that time came. Thanks to his most faithful servant, it would now be easier than he had previously thought to carry out the things he had planned.
Now it was time for a few more volunteers.
For more than a week Linaya, led by Zorbin Ironfist, had traversed hidden passes within the Rancor Mountains known to none but the dwarves. They had climbed steep cliffs and braved dark gorges, but still had not found that which they were seeking. Each day they had hopes of gaining entry to the subterranean kingdom of the dwarves, yet thus far the destination still remained an unachievable end to their journey.
Though at first Linaya was uncomfortable in the presence of the dwarf, it had become apparent that, unlike most men she had the displeasure to share company with, Zorbin did not lust after her. On realizing this new and alien predicament, Linaya allowed herself to relax. Henceforth each day had been filled with friendly conversation, for which both travelers were thankful. It was during one such conversation, a discussion of childhood dreams and fantasies, that a slight tremble reverberated through the stone beneath their mounts. Pausing a moment to listen, Zorbin’s eyes shot wide open and without a word to Linaya he drove his heels into Zanth’s flanks and the two rocketed off along the narrow mountain pass they were now traveling through.
Caught completely off guard, Linaya followed suit, hoping as her mount exploded forward that they would not careen into a rocky wall of death, or off the edge of some unseen cliff. She could not see the dwarf ahead for all of the twists and turns in the trail, but she could hear Zanth’s armor clattering and as such she shouted ahead.
“What happened?” Linaya yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping the dwarf up ahead would hear her.
“We are near the sixth warren’s gate to Boulder Gate and the rumbling means it is either opening or closing!” Zorbin shouted from somewhere up ahead.
Moments later, Linaya rounded a blind bend in the pass and yanked back hard on the reins. Sliding to a halt, she watched as Zorbin leapt from Zanth’s back and raced up to an ever narrowing void in the stone wall of the pass. Before the dwarf made it halfway to the opening he was blocked by another dwarf wearing metal armor of the likes Linaya had never seen before. Linaya was momentarily distracted by the dwarf’s armor and so was unaware of what was being said, but she could not help her fascination. Every inch of the gray-bearded man was covered in what appeared to be polished scales of gold and silver, with the center of each and every scale containing a brilliant gemstone. The wealth embodied in this singular set of armor could feed a small town for many seasons. Linaya wondered if this man were the king himself, and dismounted her imperial war horse in hopes of gaining her audience with him this very moment.
It was not long before she realized her error, overhearing the elderly dwarf joking about Zorbin’s hideous choice of mate. Though it would have been easy for Linaya to become angry about the jest made at her expense, she knew that it was a mere joke and no harm would come of it. Thus decided, Linaya thought it better to stand back and let Zorbin do the talking. Within moments her decision was rewarded with a gesture from her traveling companion. Together they gathered their mounts and entered the underground realm of the dwarves.
* * * * *
Though Garret had marched off with the army of Valdadore near two hours before, Seth had remained behind with Sara, Borrik, Eve, the small contingent of werewolf troops he had at present, and a handful of human volunteers. Eve was already beginning to test her wings and at present was flapping furiously, regularly adjusting her wing placement, span, and the way she cupped the air beneath them. She had managed a moment earlier to lift herself off the ground, but had been so surprised by the achievement, she had not noted exactly how she had done it and was now trying to recreate the event.
Borrik was presently relaying information back and forth between his troops and Seth. The werewolves reported the current position of the enemy troops and were subsequently ordered to rush ahead of them to the newly formed lake to be retrieved by Seth the following day. Nobody was quite sure how Seth would manage the feat, but if he said it would be done, then they all trusted it would be so. No more would Sigrant’s supply lines be harried by otherworldly beasts. Battle would now be coming to Valdadore more swiftly than before.
Meticulously Seth altered his chosen human champions, giving them each bits and pieces of the menagerie contained within him, creating of them warriors straight out of a child’s nightmare. One, a man named Corinth, now resembled a stone lizard which was a blessing of three parts. First, his skin was thicker than leather armor, making him naturally less likely to be injured. Second, he could change the color of his flesh to blend in with his surroundings. Third, he had gained the amazing ability of lizards to regenerate, something he noticed soon after being altered. It seemed a childhood injury had claimed one of the man’s toes, but after the alteration he watched as the appendage quickly grew back. If that were not enough, Seth outfitted the man in enchanted armor giving him the ability to size shift as well as burst into flames without being harmed.
Another two champions of Seth’s choosing had been melded with goats with long curling horns. To this Seth added very small portions of an aura from a giant causing them each to grow to nearly twelve feet tall. With human heads adorned by the battering-ram horns, and human-like torsos with four arms each, a man named Blithe and a woman named Varina stood upon hoofed, hair-covered legs, both of them able to jump incredibly high, wield four weapons at a time and bash anything with their heads without receiving injury. To these Seth added several more grotesque creatures designed purely for appearance in hopes of scaring the enemy. All of his champions he dressed in blessed armor or armed them with weapons of assorted makes carrying various enchantments to help them upon the field of battle.
One after another, for nearly five hours, Seth falsely blessed a dozen human champions. In case they should survive the approaching battle, he poured several lifespans of power into their bodies as a reward for their service; each of his champions would live centuries. Finished with his human volunteers, Seth took a moment to observe Eve as she gently lifted off the ground and hovered several feet in the air, her wings flapping in a steady rhythm before settling once more to the ground.
* * * * *
Sara watched as Seth performed transformation after transformation, turning ordinary people into demons of another world. Oddly each of them was thankful for the change, though Sara scarcely understood why. Borrik’s alteration had led him and some of his men to violently rape several women. Sara’s changing had turned her into a bloodthirsty monster who fed upon others of her own kind. She could not even imagine what might be the negative side effects of some of these more peculiar transformations. And apparently Seth had saved the best for last.
Sara continued to watch as Seth, calling Borrik to his side, strode away from the rest of those who remained behind with him. Master and servant seated themselves in the grass, and it appeared to Sara that Seth placed unseen items upon Borrik, or perhaps drew upon the werewolf with his fingertips in an odd manner. Nearly an hour later, Seth gave Borrik a finely crafted bracer which the alpha werewolf quickly slid onto his left wrist.
What happened next surprised not only Borrik, but everyone who was observing. As Borrik donned the gifted piece of armor, Seth reached out and touched it. As if it had come alive, spikes surrounding each end of the item twisted over upon themselves and bent back towards the beast-man’s flesh. Then, in the same motion, each one elongated and plunged beneath Borrik’s skin, twisting and weaving with flesh, muscle and bone. The only way to remove the bracer now was to remove Borrik’s arm. Though it had obviously hurt him, Borrik made not a sound. Experimentally Borrik tested the motion of his wrist and arm with the metal lancing in and out of his flesh like so many metal worms feeding upon the living parts of his body. Seemingly satisfied, Borrik and Seth spoke anew as Seth handed his second-in-command a pair of blades similar to the claw-like weapons he had made for all of the troops. Sara understood the need for more champions. She also understood the reason why Seth made them appear hideous, evil and menacing, but she was sure she would never understand the reason for the next thing she witnessed.
As she stood to stretch her muscles, Seth left Borrik and walked more than thirty feet away from his most loyal servant. Turning back, Sara saw Seth nod once to the alpha werewolf who, without hesitation, spoke some unknown command nearly silently before several unnatural things happened simultaneously. First, there was a huge concussive boom as Borrik exploded in size, becoming easily thirty feet tall. As he shimmered and grew, another arm sprouted from each of his sides as new joints and muscles crawled and took shape beneath his skin If that were not enough, great leathery wings ripped out from his back to either side, and began to flap lazily just as soon as they were fully formed. In Borrik’s two upper arms he held the wicked weapons his master had created; in his lower hands fireballs erupted to life within each upturned palm. Upon the beast’s armor lightning danced menacingly from one metal surface to the next. Seth had created his masterpiece, and all in attendance stood either horrified or in wonder at the massive creation before them. Then, as if nothing had transpired at all, Borrik shimmered again with a pop and the wings and extra arms alike vanished back into his body once more.
A moment later Seth and Borrik exchanged words before Seth strode to Sara’s side once again.
“Now we can go to join the rest of the army,” Seth stated, sounding beyond exhausted.
“Do you think they will serve the intended purpose?” Sara asked, nodding her head towards the various new champions.
“I think they look fearsome enough. I only hope they fight as ferociously as they look.”
“If we survive this battle, where will your champions go? They are too far beyond humanity to live any semblance of a normal life here in Valdadore,” Sara pointed out.
“I am afraid I don’t have the luxury of figuring that out yet, my love. First we must survive, and then we can worry ourselves with finding a safe home for those I have altered. I know it sounds callous, but if we do not survive, then what purpose does any further planning serve?”
“Perhaps you are right, Seth, but if we do survive, what purpose will your champions serve after the battle?” Sara asked again.
“I do not know. Perhaps they can act as the realm’s protectors just as the Knights of Valdadore do. All will be known in time,” Seth replied. “For now let them serve the purpose they have been created for, then, perhaps like the rest of us, they will find their own role in life.”
Sara simply nodded in response, thinking it was perhaps not the best way to do things. But without sharing the burden of responsibility Seth had upon his shoulders, who was she to say if his methods were right or wrong. In any case, Sara found herself plenty of time to ponder the ‘what ifs’ over the eighteen hour march to the newly formed lake west of Valdadore.
* * * * *
Upon arriving at the manmade lake, some of Seth’s champions blessed with the ability to size shift, and King Garret himself waded the two miles across the lake from one shore to the other. Once there they dragged large, crude rafts into the water that Seth’s stranded soldiers had made, and towed them back across the lake burdened with the hundreds of werewolf troops. From that time it would be three days before the enemy was finally sighted upon the opposite shore. Three days Seth spent among his own troops doling out the same enchantment over and over again. Though most expected the first of Sigrant’s troops to begin to circumvent the lake in one direction or the other, instead they waited upon the opposite shore for several days as more and more arrivals found themselves trapped by the new lake.
While Garret still hoped the enemy soldiers would simply turn around, they continued to gather, and within nine days the entire army stood poised straight across the lake from the defending Valdadorians. In those nine days both Eve and Borrik had learned to fly. In those nine days Seth had enchanted nearly half a dozen of Valdadore’s common but distinguished troops with the ability to size shift, at least temporarily. Within those nine days a plan was created, and the stage was set for the best defense Valdadore could muster, no matter which direction the enemy chose to go around the lake. In those nine days, not a single member of the Valdadorian army could have even imagined what was to be had on the tenth day. Like the Death Mage within their own ranks and the cursed creations that bowed to him as their master, something new and foreign to Valdadore had arisen in the kingdom governed by King Sigrant. Something Valdadore had no way of being prepared for.
* * * * *
On the morning of the tenth day, Seth, hearing a commotion growing in the camp surrounding his tent, stepped outside with Sara to see what was amiss. Though looking around revealed no answers, Borrik rushed up to the young couple to relay to his master why the camp was in such uproar. The morning looked much like any other fall morning, except that a thick fog had descended upon the lake, obscuring the enemy in entirety. What was more peculiar was, having found their vision obscured, both Borrik and Eve had taken flight over the lake but discovered that no enemy remained upon the opposite bank. Nor had Sigrant turned his army back the way they had come. Just as the blanket of fog had seemingly magically appeared, so too had the enemy magically disappeared. Seth mulled over the report a moment, but something about it sat sour in his mouth. An army simply did not vanish.