Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus) (66 page)

The largest of the ravens swooped downwards to land before the man. It looked at him curiously. The man thought that he could see disbelief in the creature's eyes
which mirrored that which he also felt. It squawked at
him as if to ask him how it was that he still lived.

A croak through his raw throat was his
ineffectual retort. The soldier coughed and the effort
nearly threw him back onto his face in the gore. He spied
an unopened canteen on a body nearby and reached out
for it. Lifting the container to his mouth, the fallen
warrior poured the liquid between his lips. The silver
haired man rinsed out his mouth and spit it back out. The
water had turned red before it even touched the blood
stained earth.

Pouring the contents of the canteen back into
his mouth, he forced his throat to swallow. Once started,
the man couldn't stop until the vessel was drained.

The raven hadn't moved throughout the whole of
his efforts.

The man stared at the creature in amazement. The thought of the scavenger drew him to look about him. The death surrounding him caused an unbidden
gasp. He could tell that the hundreds of bodies mostly
belonged to his comrades and allies. The army of King
Druin lay about him in great unkempt piles.

He forced himself to remember how the losses
could possibly have happened. The sight of a dark
misshapen body sent waves of memory flowing harshly
back into his consciousness. Tears of bitterness and
failure came unbidden as he remembered it all.

Dante
Betrice of the Certe Alliance Guard had
come with his comrades when reports of the dark horde
invading their lands had come to them. King Druin ruled
in the south of the alliance and had sent the first
battalion to meet the unknown intruders. General Batist
had confidently led his men to the plain of Turo and there
the army found that they faced the horror of creatures
not born of their world.

The creatures consisting of two main types wore
black armor strangely discolored by a crimson gloss. The
smaller creatures all had dark green skin, a green that
resembled that of an evergreen in winter. Small and
quick they darted in and out and around the humans with
their long knives. If a man wasn't careful, the beasts
would take swipes at his legs going for the tendons in
particular. He had seen many a soldier fall to the tactic and the creatures were quick to pounce in small groups
to finish off their victim as well. If they didn't get the kill,
their larger cousins would use their axes and clubs
instead. With rough skin the color of oak bark, the
creatures were nearly the height of a full grown man and
had chests wider than a man's shoulder width. The larger
beasts had formed a core through which their smaller
cousins operated.

With power and speed, the dark warriors had
quickly dismantled the entire command.

Dante had fought valiantly. Even as the men
around him fell, he had continued to hold his ground.
Dark creatures could be found slain in the midst of the
Certe Guardsmen, and some were the result of his work.
Then the numbers had closed in on him. Their mass
proved too strong for his blade and the shield he had
carried was left in tatters.

This brought him back the question of his
continued existence. "How can I be here?" he questioned
the raven still before him.

Cocking its shiny black head at him curiously,
the bird answered with a softer call. Dante looked at the
creature before him in wonderment that it was still
perched before him. Shaking his head slightly until he
realized that the motion caused him dizziness, Dante
then chose to try and stand. The raven retreated only
slightly as it continued to watch.

The soldier chose to ignore the bird and turned to
the task of finding a suitable sword and shield to replace
those that he had lost. He also found a pair of animal skin
canteens and a couple of travel packs of food. Dante began eating ravenously. He had been famished. The
hunger was greater than any he could ever remember.

He tossed a few scraps towards the raven though
there was more than enough left here to feed it. Its
comrades had already started withdrawing now that even
their great appetites had been sated. His own hunger
was as well now from a less morbid version of dinner.

The task before him had to be a return to Castle
Trea and to find out if any of the others had made it back
to warn the king. Having eaten, the man found his
strength returning quickly. Dante began picking his way
through the masses of dead. It was a disheartening
experience. He found many a friend lying broken and
often picked over by the scavengers. The body of General
Batist was found near the rear of the battle surrounded
by his personal guard.

Dante shook his head. The man had refused to flee though his command was being torn apart before
him. Dante considered such an act foolish. The General
should have retreated to the castle to warn the king.
There was nothing to be gained by losing such an
important man. His pride had caused the superb soldier
to die which was a shame since Batist had been a
renowned strategist and tactician. In the face of such a
loss, Dante guessed that he had been unwilling to admit
defeat.

Picking up his pace as he finally was clear of the
main killing field, Dante rushed as quickly as he could
manage. The castle was nearly twenty miles south. If he
could get there soon enough, the soldier could prepare
the king for what his troops would be facing.

Walking all day, eventually Dante spotted smoke
ahead of him. A dark flash and the soft rustle of wings,
alerted him to the raven's presence again. It had followed him this far oddly enough. Perhaps it was still certain of Dante's death and had chosen him as its future meal, he
thought wryly. But as the bird soared on ahead towards
the smoke, Dante realized that the bird would have
something else to feed on first.

The bird had disappeared long ago, but Dante
knew that the creature would be waiting ahead for him
though he had no reason for such odd behavior. The
warrior followed the road as best he could and before
long he found the source of the smoke.

A small village, through which the
Certen army
had passed only a day ago, was now a smoking ruin. As
he entered the outskirts of the town, Dante could smell
the death before him even as he had on the battlefield.
Animals and scavenger birds were here as well. Most
scattered at the approach of the man. The brazen raven
appeared before him in the road and turned to him with a
cry.

"So nice of you to wait," he mumbled
sarcastically.

As he searched the village for any survivors,
Dante began to wonder about something else. The
invaders’ identity was entirely unknown to him. They had appeared out of virtually nowhere. Those that had alerted
the king had not known from where they had come
either. More than five hundred strong, a true army of odd
creatures the likes of which had never been known to
this region of the Taltan continent, if they had ever
existed anywhere in all of the world of Alus, and they had
just appeared out of nowhere to attack and destroy.

Armies of man they knew. There were even
dwarves rumored to be a true separate race up in the
north, though he had never seen one. The myths of a race
of gargoyles and the existence of dragons had made their
way to Certe from North Continent as well. The source of
old wives' tales to be told to naughty young children or
around the campfire to try and spook the rawest of
recruits, but now these aberrations were here. This
slaughter was no wives’ tale.

Dante could find no survivors left alive and so he
proceeded south to warn the king, even as the man
continued to ask the unanswerable questions.

The raven continued to follow but revealed
nothing to him.

Voran: The Night Guardian

Chapter 1- Guardian

The city, never fully asleep, always imbued with its own sound, quiets momentarily and only the sound of the wind whistling through metal and brick ways stands out. A sliver of the moon gives light in places, but doesn’t penetrate the alleys where monsters prey on the innocent. Stories of wild dogs and coyotes made the news, but it was often a different predator that would not come into the light that was most dangerous.

A woman’s voice cries out weakly.

A green bulb changes and the sounds of nearby cars drown out another sound, the sound of flesh tearing and blood dripping to the ground where it escapes the mouth of the predator.

The woman’s voice continues to call for help, but her strength is fading and her sounds seem to go unheard. The creature continues to draw out her blood, feasting. It has done this before, though he is still young and new to the feeding to sate his hunger. The predator that was once a man is now merely a vessel of desire for the only food that will stop his hunger, if only for awhile. The woman’s head lolls to the side, her energy spent as her life begins to fade.

The scuff from the roof top above draws the predator’s attention, though human ears could not have heard the faint sounds from nearly thirty feet away. The creature no longer needs to hunt, but he will not leave a witness to his deed. Still dripping blood from his chin, the creature leaps high upon the near wall and bounds from it across the alley to the far wall. A third leap brings it to the lip of the building and the creature searches for the source of the sound.

Night vision picking out heat sources, the creature quickly finds the man. The voyeur is calm. The murder and the monster which created it bring no fear or seemingly any emotion from the man. The creature should have wondered at such a thing, but its bloodlust clouded judgment. The man must die, it thinks and no other option presents itself.

Leaping forward to attack, the predator’s claws search for the man’s throat. It will rip the life from his body, or so it thinks, but as its claws slice the air before its target, the man moves with amazing speed side stepping the killing blow.

The predator feels pain from the side of its chest.

Glancing down, the creature sees blood dripping and bands of flesh and cloth swaying as it turns to face the man. Confusion etches it features. The mouth opens revealing extended incisors. The eyes are all white save its irises. Ears, nearly pointed, are oversized and acute of hearing. It hears the man’s heartbeat thrumming steadily.

It looks at the man more closely. Reason begins to override bloodlust and the creature notes four ivory claws dripping with his blood. Virtually gleaming white even in the wane moonlight, the claws extend unnaturally from the man’s right hand. There is a glint of steel from the man’s side. A sword rests upon his hip where the moon catches the metal hilt revealing the blade still sheathed.

Arrogance in the predator’s strengths, well beyond human now, convince it to attack again. It is a mistake. The clawed hand swipes across its chest tearing through bone and flesh alike. A back swing, as the predator stumbles back in shock, removes the head at the neck.

The heart is bared. It thumps, even as the body falls to its knees. The man calmly stabs the claws through a black diseased looking heart. Pierced, the heart stops and begins to burn. As the man steps back withdrawing his claws, the torso catches flame and soon the whole body is afire.

Knowing the creature is dead, the man steps to the edge of the building above the site of the kill. With a vampire’s corpse behind him, the man knows that the story may not be over. He jumps over the edge, but instead of injuring himself thirty feet below; the man seems to slow his fall. At half the speed he should be falling, the man touches down without harm.

He checks the woman and finds a ragged pulse. Taking a dagger from another sheath, the man cuts his hand and places it over the wound in the woman’s neck. His blood enters her wound. With a cry of pain, the woman wrenches her body from the pavement with a quick jolt. The wound seems to burn, though not the way of the vampire. The torn skin cauterizes and heals as if there has been no attack.