The weapon was crafted with
inhuman precision, perfectly balanced and indestructible, a product
of Bane's mind, birthed by the dark power. Such weapons were known
as eir'greth, or god gifts, and only one such as Bane could tap
their mystical source somewhere between the realms of thought and
reality. Bringing it into being relied solely upon his need for it,
and required no skill.
Runes etched the blade's length
on either side of the blood groove, adding to its strength and
making it immune to melting or bending. Its keen edge would not
blunt unless its creator used it against something as strong as
itself. The weapon would last for all eternity, and only Bane could
destroy it. Not even another dark god could undo his conjuring, and
the runes ensured it.
Bane slashed
at Arkonen,
tearing his
shadow form. He punched Bane in the jaw and knocked him down. The
Demon Lord Moved again as his foe leapt at him, rolling to his feet
out of reach. The Black Lord straightened and spread his
hands.
"Now you see, we cannot fight
each other. We are too much alike. Our power is the same. Join me,
and we will rule together."
"I do not want to rule this
world."
"The girl is the only thing you
care about. You may keep her."
Bane said, "She would not want
to live in your world, and I do not need your permission. I am
going to destroy you."
"Face it, you
cannot. Your power cannot harm me
anymore than mine can harm you. This is a
stalemate."
"I will find a way." Bane wiped
sweat from his brow.
"Already your human body
weakens. You cannot beat me."
"If you are so certain you can
win, then try."
The Black Lord's fiery maw
curved in a smile. "Very well." He gestured, and a stocky man in
battered armour and ragged livery appeared beside him. His brown
eyes widened and his mouth stretched in fear. The Black Lord
pointed a finger at him, and he froze, his face becoming blank.
Bane frowned. "Do you think you
can stop me with a man?"
"Oh no, I only need him to carry
a message, that is all."
The Lord of
the Underworld drew a shadow rune in the air with a finger and
flicked it into the man. The unfortunate soldier stiffened, then
walked away with
a puppet’s
jerky stride. Bane glanced around, disorientated by the battle, and
realised that the man was walking towards the temple. His bolt of
power reduced the man to a charred corpse, which tottered and
collapsed.
The Black Lord threw back his
head and roared with laughter. "Ah, you still amuse me. How I used
to struggle not to laugh at you, when you showed your stupid
bravado in the Underworld. It irked me no end that I had to be so
sweet and nice to you."
"I will wager
it did," Bane said. "Leave the healer. This is between you
and
me."
"All is fair in war, boy. Why
should I, when she is my ticket to victory? Your stupid, weak
emotions will be your downfall."
Bane sent a
bolt of fire into the clouds, punching a hole in the grey blanket.
The Black Lord leapt back as a shaft of radiance shot down to
l
ight a patch of dead grass.
He closed the hole with a sweep of his arm and sneered, "Do you
think I would send the real messenger where you could see him, boy?
Already your sweetheart leaves the temple. Do not think about
Moving. I will have her before you can stop her."
Bane stepped
forward as the Black Lord gestured, and Mirra appeared beside him.
Arkonen gr
ipped her arm,
making her cry out. He shook her, and she doubled over, retching.
Black Lord jerked the girl upright and clasped her
throat.
"Come any closer, and she
dies."
Bane
seeth
ed with fury. Mirra
stared at him with beseeching eyes, and Bane cursed her soft heart
and trusting nature. She had been out of the Black Lord's reach on
hallowed ground, but the moment she stepped off it she was
vulnerable.
"Why did you not stay in the
temple?" he shouted.
"He... he said you were
hurt."
"It was a trick!"
Arkonen chuckled. "How sweet.
The young lovers."
Bane shot him a look of
unadulterated loathing. "I can love no one. You made sure of that.
But I will not let her be harmed."
"Give me your life, and I will
let her live. I shall keep her in a gilded cage and bring her out
for the demons to sport with."
"Never."
"Then I shall kill her now, boy.
You can watch her die slowly. Then you will have nothing to fight
for, will you?"
"If you kill her, I will not
rest until you are destroyed."
The Black Lord laughed. "Then it
will change nothing, except to give me the pleasure of watching you
suffer as she dies. How I have longed to torment you, but I could
not until now. My reward for your loyalty was to leave you to die
on the plains, but here you are, back to annoy me once more. This
time you will pay for your impertinence, and for destroying my
demons."
A black dagger appeared in his
hand, and Mirra cried out as he drew it across her chest,
sniggering when bright blood flowed.
"Excellent. No power. This will
be fun." Bane stepped towards him once more, but he wagged the
dagger. "Do not be silly, boy."
The threat to
Mirra riveted Bane's attention, and
the widening of her eyes warned him. He spun around as an
earth demon's granite club descended. Unprepared, he was smashed to
the ground. The sword blade snagged on the stones and was wrenched
from his grasp, falling with a soft peal. He rolled, bright flashes
exploding in his eyes. The club thudded on the ground beside him.
The Black Lord shouted furious orders at the demon, goading it to
greater efforts. Bane rolled again, eluding the club, then sent a
stream of fire in the demon's direction, sensing its demise in a
flash of foul magic. Shaking his head, he rose to his hands and
knees, his sight blurred.
"Look out!"
Mirra's cry ended in a choked shriek, and Bane swung around as
another brown form loomed over him. He
reduced the demon to dust, which the wind whipped
away. The world swam as Bane tried to reel to his feet, falling
sideways. The thunder and lightning seemed to have died down, and
the Black Lord's chuckle reached him through his pain, fuelling his
rage. Something warm trickled down his face, and he clung to the
swaying earth, a roaring in his ears.
"Now you will die, like the
miserable human you are."
Bane spun and
unleashed a sheet of unfocus
sed fire, annihilating three earth demons that rose
together.
The Black Lord shouted, "You
begin to annoy me, boy! I will kill her!"
Bane raised his head. "No!"
Arkonen's inky hand tightened on
Mirra's throat, and she whimpered, rigid with terror. "Bane! Help
me!"
Arkonen's
choking grip tightened further, and she claw
ed at his shadow arm.
A lance of icy anguish tore
Bane’s heart, and he staggered to his feet. "No! You will not!"
"Try to stop
me,
" the Black Lord jeered,
and laughed with triumphant, unholy glee. Bane lunged at him, but
rebounded off a wall of black power that shot up between
them.
The Black Lord's laughter rose
to a grating cackle. "I did not teach you everything, stupid boy.
In fact, I taught you very little."
Bane climbed to his feet again,
wiping blood from his eyes. Arkonen was going to kill the only
person who had shown him kindness and saved his life. Even as that
thought crossed his mind, he realised that the pain he had
experienced at her death had been the most terrible sorrow. He
fought Arkonen to save the Overworld for her sake. Without her,
there was no reason for him to do it, except vengeance.
The barrier
would always remain between him and Arkonen; there was no way
around it. He cast about for a way to distract the Dark Lord long
enough to gain an advantage.
He tried again to open the clouds, hoping that this would
force Arkonen to release Mirra. The Black Lord held them in place
without relinquishing his hold on the girl's throat, laughing. The
barrier offered Bane access to the Black Lord's power,
however.
Arkonen's
laughter died when Bane gripped the barrier and drew on its power
with all seven runes, which flared to yellow brilliance, shining
through his shirt. The barrier bec
ame translucent, forcing Arkonen to feed it with a dark
conduit that sprang into being before it collapsed. The barrier
yielded far more power than Bane could hold, and he guided the
excess upwards in a column of pure blackness that tore a hole in
the clouds.
The Black Lord was compelled to
enter the battle for the clouds once more, whilst maintaining the
barrier as well. This forced him to Gather at a vast rate, and the
double distraction made him relax his hold on Mirra, allowing her
to breathe. Bane tried to figure out what he was going to do next.
The power thrummed in his blood and heated his flesh, making sweat
bead his brow. He had entered into a stalemate, trapping himself
and Arkonen in a struggle that neither could win. Nor could either
of them break away from it. The Black Lord because he would lose
control of the clouds, and Bane because Mirra would die.
Bane sensed
something behind him and flung his power outward in a rippling
wave
, but the earth demon
flung its spear before he annihilated it. The weapon struck Bane in
the back, and the impact thrust him against the barrier. He looked
down at the iron spearhead that protruded from his
belly.
Dark blood surged from the wound
and soaked his trousers, dripping onto the blackened ground in a
spreading crimson pool. His strength ran out with it, and then the
pain hit him in a nauseating wave. His hold on the barrier
weakened, and his fingers slipped from its edge. He fell to his
knees, then collapsed sideways, the spear shaft preventing him from
falling onto his back. It tore at the wound, sending fresh torture
through him.
Bane gasped and bit his lip to
prevent himself from crying out. He gripped the bloody spearhead,
his knuckles whitening as he strived to stem the agony that
exploded in his belly. Waves of cold darkness washed over him,
threatening to rob him of his senses and condemn him to a swift
death at Arkonen's hands. He fought it, resisting the strong urge
to let his head sag to the ground and allow sweet oblivion to wash
the pain away.
Arkonen released the barrier,
which disintegrated into shards of shadow. Dropping Mirra as if she
was a broken doll, he stepped forward and raised his fists to
strike the fallen Demon Lord. Bane spread his hands, and a curved
shield shimmered into being over him, absorbed the Black Lord's
blows and drew power from them. Arkonen snarled with frustration,
then smiled, certain of his victory.
"Now you die, snivelling human,
like the weak mortal you are."
Mirra coughed
and raised her head. Her throat ached fro
m the Dark Lord's crushing grip and the black power
knotted her stomach. With choked cry of horror, she crawled towards
Bane, drawn by his pain. He turned his head and stretched out a
hand.
"Mirra!"
Mirra
floundered across the rough ground, not caring that sharp stones
cut her hands and knees, desperate to reach him. Anguish and
despair filled her, for even if she succeeded, she could not help
him. Yet he seemed just as desperate to get to her, and dragged
himself along, the spear tearing at his insides. Lightning
crack
led close by, and the
stench of burning and corruption clogged her nose and fogged her
mind.
The Black Lord laughed at their
struggles, and Bane sagged. His hand lowered and the shield
shimmered. She renewed her efforts to reach him, her shaking limbs
barely strong enough to carry her. Hot rocks burnt her palms and
knees, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. She crawled over the
remnants of the earth demons Bane had destroyed, whose foul
corruption permeated their scattered soil. Bane's head drooped,
wings of hair falling forward to hide his face, and she cried out
in despair. The shield above him wavered and became translucent.
The Black Lord raised his fist to deal the killing blow.
With an inrush of air, Bane
vanished.
The Black Lord gave a shout of
rage, his yellow eyes flaring, his red maw twisted as he glared at
the spot where Bane had been. He turned his baleful gaze upon
Mirra. "So, he abandons you to save himself. It seems he does not
feel as much for you as I thought."
Mirra cowered as he stalked
closer, tears of pain and sorrow coursing down her cheeks. Arkonen
loomed over her, his visage twisted.
"I should kill you now, girl,
but you may yet be useful. For the moment, you will live."
A host of earth demons sprang up
all around them, and the Black Lord swept them with hot yellow
eyes. "Send those cowardly mortals back to the temple. I want him
killed while he is injured."
Several demons vanished back
into the ground, and Arkonen gripped Mirra's arm and yanked her to
her feet. Her empty stomach rebelled at his touch, and she retched,
her head swimming. Her knees buckled, and only his hold on her arm
kept her from falling. A surge of dark power engulfed her, and
blessed oblivion slammed down.
Chapter
Eight
The White Fire
The Demon Lord appeared in
the centre of the chapel, the wave of dark power that accompanied
him guttering the candles. The healers who were gathered there to
pray recoiled with cries of fear, some turning to clutch their
neighbours. Bane lay on his side, held there by the protruding
spear shaft. Ellese jumped up with a horrified cry and rushed
forward to fall to her knees beside him. The dark power that licked
over him made her gag. He gasped, his skin ashen. Sweat dampened
the wings of hair that framed his haggard face. His eyes turned
blue as he leashed the power. Blood oozed from the great wound and
pooled on the pale marble floor, running out at an alarming
rate.