Blood of the Fallen

  Blood

  of the

  Fallen

  By

  Jeff Gunzel

  Copyright 2016 Jeff Gunzel

  Books by Jeff Gunzel

  The Legend of the Gate Keeper Series

  The Shadow

  Land of Shadows

  Siege of Night

  Lost Empire

  Reborn

  The Trials of Ashbarn

  End of Days

  Tainted Blood Series

  A Rip in Time

  Of Blood and Blade

  Winds of Chaos

  A Rising Storm

  Blood of the Fallen

  Prologue

  Hot air rose up through the cavern, its smothering heat masking the stone walls with wavy lines of distortion. Acrid and toxic, no form of life was ever meant to breathe this poison. The deadly environment was little more than a living hell, a prison for the cursed, the only home the white men had known for centuries.

  Lungs drawing in yet another blast of thick warmth, the lerwick began to stir. Slowly drifting back from his dreamlike state, he began to feel the waves of heat licking his body, as well as the acrid taste of sulfur thick in the back of his throat. His eyelids fluttered, trying to push back against the magically induced coma. Slowly, the world around him came into view, and it was not a world he remembered at all.

  Another deep breath filled his lungs with more toxins, causing his body to convulse with dry, ragged coughs. With no choice but to keep drawing in breath after breath of the barely breathable air, he strained to see through teary eyes. Below him, he could see a wide river of lava. Flowing along like thick, orange honey, it rolled and boiled, each rising bubble bursting before belching out yet another blast of toxic fumes.

  He screamed at the nightmarish sight, thrashing against the cuffs that held his wrists and ankles. It was only then that he realized he couldn’t move, that his whole body was strapped tight against a metal grate. Through his desperate thrashing, he glanced past the lava and saw a wall of white standing nearby, a wall containing hundreds of eyes, pink eyes that radiated hate. Savage, barbaric, their sharp gazes pierced him like a dagger.

  The living wall began to chant as ghostly white hands waved in the air. Lipless mouths opened impossibly wide, the tops of their hairless heads flipping so far back it seemed as if they might fall off. Even with the lerwick still convulsing with choking coughs, gasping for fresh air, he was somehow able to focus on the song. Soothing, gentle, the long, drawn-out note seemed to bring with it a measure of peace.

  The cavern came alive with the hum. It pulsed with green and blue light that seemed to radiate directly from the rock walls themselves. Soothing, yet invigorating all at once, the lerwick felt swept up in the energy of the song. It was as if it was pumping new life into him, distracting him from the searing pain ripping at his insides.

  The pulley wheel above the grate began to squeak and chirp. The subtle screech somehow broke him from his blissful trance, breaking down the mental wall that had, up until now, managed to separate his mind from the pain. Agony exploded through his body, sending the lerwick into a flurry of fits and convulsions. Like a tidal wave, it hit him so hard that he couldn’t even scream.

  As the metal grate lowered, inching him closer and closer to the lava below, his skin began to smolder and steam. Boils rose up along his arms and neck. They seeped with clear pus, each drop hissing against the lava below. In a rush, the lerwick suddenly found his voice and let out an ear-piercing scream. His eyeballs began to wither and steam, the last of their moisture being drawn away by the searing heat. In the back of his mind, a tiny spark of consciousness still clung to reality despite the surreal experience. Astonished, he wondered how he could even still be alive. How could his body still be functioning after all this?

  Three feet away from the smoldering river, a foot, an inch... The moment his chest touched the lava, his body burst into flame. Although every last drop of moisture fled from his body, leaving behind nothing but charred, blackened skin, but he still continued to thrash about. His hair vaporized in a crackling puff of tangy-smelling smoke, leaving behind a bald head shedding flecks of black ash. His lipless, skeletal grin opened wide, expelling a cloud of black smoke from withered lungs that shouldn’t even be working any longer.

  Still lowering, the metal grate dipped below the surface of the lava. But even then his shadowy form thrashed beneath the deep red surface, whipping about like some sort of underwater creature caught in a net. His blackened body hardened to a crisp, leathery skin hugging the bone. Lungs continued to pump of their own accord, sending lava rushing in and out as if it were liquid air. All the while he was still conscious, completely aware of what was going on. Although his body had become a foreign, unfamiliar vessel, he was still very much in tune with it, very much in touch with the endless pain.

  Up from the molten sea rose a large golden bubble, its shadowy insides twitching about. Like a blackened larva trapped in a gel cocoon, the lerwick frantically bobbed his skinless head as his charred limbs hung like withered branches. Eyeless sockets steamed and hissed as his lipless teeth clicked like a wooden puppet. What little skin remained on his body was little more than tiny strips of black charcoal still clinging to white bone.

  As if hatching an insect, the bubble slowly fell away like a melting icicle. Through his ribcage was a surprisingly well-preserved heart, still thumping away, acting as if there was any blood left to pump. Throwing his head back, the lerwick let out an ear-piercing scream. The action should have been impossible given the condition of his withered body, yet the long and potent roar nearly shook the walls. Lava expelled from his mouth in a blast of orange, spraying high in the air like a geyser.

  Crispy, blackened fingers closed into fists as his body arched back. Levitating up above the lava, his body began to crystallize from the inside out. Light blue at first, his bones soon became a brilliant white that seemed to glow. Suddenly, his body burst. The brilliant flash of white washed over the ghatins, bathing them in blinding light. Many covered their eyes and looked away. Like an exploding star, the body of the lerwick became impossible to look at directly.

  * * *

  The sky darkened, boiling and churning with angry black storm clouds. Lightning flashed, illuminating the barren wasteland that hadn’t seen a drop of rain in many years. The sky flashed again, this time sending a jagged bolt jittering down, which struck the side of the volcano, followed by a second, then a third. The sky erupted into a flickering light show of chaos. Crackling energy bathed the volcano, each bolt striking once before spidering across the outer crust like a living entity.

  The collection of energy swirled around the volcano as it stripped its face of rock and debris. Then, like a whirling tornado of light, the crackling bolts funneled back together and raced up into the sky, pulling with them the mass of stone and debris. What was once an ancient volcano, ugly and worn, now stood out like a mountain-shaped diamond. Glistening like a white jewel, it refracted even the subtle starlight shining down through the quickly dissipating clouds.

  Everything went deathly quiet as the world stood still. Suddenly, the side of the diamond burst open, releasing a flowing wave of screeching white. It howled like a wolf, washing across the desert landscape like a single living entity.

  The ancient curse had been shattered.

  The ghatins were free.

  Chapter 1

  Blades flashing with lightning speed, Xavier cut down the lerwicks just as fast as they approached. Swarming over him like a pack of piranhas, his blades seemed to locate flesh no matter which direction he struck. Hands slick with blood, he could barely hold on to his weapons as he spun them left and right. Heart pounding, panic and desperation taking hold, Xavier fou
ght on like a wounded animal fighting for its life.

  There were so many. Where were they all coming from? With fatigue setting in fast, it was hard to say how much longer he could last. But none of that really mattered anymore because there was no choice. He would either find some way to hold out, or die right here.

  After tearing through yet another throat, he saw her off in the distance. Viola running for her life with Orm'rak in hot pursuit. There was no time to spare, he had to reach her somehow. His sworn duty was to protect her with his life, and that promise would not be broken this day!

  His arms exploded in a blazing flurry as arms and legs separated from the lerwick bodies, tearing free in mists of red. Still they kept coming, an endless stream as if they were falling from the sky. If he were to have any chance of reaching her, he had to change tactics. It was time to concentrate more on savage aggression rather than pinpoint precision, because no matter which way he swung, his blades seemed to bite into flesh. But the endless wall of bodies seemed to be growing thicker by the second. Each time one fell, it seemed like two more would take his place. How could he possibly win against such odds? But he had to! Xavier had beaten impossible odds before. Once again he would be pushed to his limits.

  A crushing blow at the center of Xavier’s back sent him reeling. Stumbling forward, his face bounced off a stone embedded in the ground. He tried to get back to his feet, but a flood of lerwicks immediately converged on his fallen body. Arms pinned, feeling the pressure of a knee pressing down on the back of his neck, he began to panic. Immobilized, he was able to turn his head just enough to see the woman he loved get taken down from behind.

  "No!" he screamed, a renewed surge of urgency driving him to do the impossible. Bucking like a horse, Xavier was able to loosen a few of their grips. Although not free yet, he could at least move his arms a little. Sliding a hand down under his chest, he managed to unsheathe a dagger. Leaning into his right shoulder, he twisted his body enough to stab upward. The blade resisted briefly, followed by a telling howl that proved it had hit home. The squirming lerwick jolted, pushing back against the others to get clear of the stabbing blade. In doing so, he knocked back a few of his friends.

  With a mighty surge, Xavier leaned into his shoulder again, this time committing all his weight as he managed to roll to his back. He released the blade, rolling two more times in order to create some distance. But a split second later his blade sprang to life, rising into the air and stabbing a lerwick beneath the chin. Making a slashing motion with his fist, Xavier pulled it free from the lerwick’s jaw and sent it seeking the chest of another. The confused lerwicks weren’t sure whether to keep going after the human, or if they should try to contain the dancing blade that seemed to be killing on its own.

  Having just bought the precious seconds needed, Xavier sprung to his feet and ripped back his cloak. Fingers danced across his chest and his blades pulled free. Rising up, they floated above his head like ghostly specters. With a twitch of his fingers they exploded into action, each one seeking a separate target. Chests and throats tore open in sprays of red, yet still more foes seemed to be rushing in to take their place. His fingers working through years of built-up muscle memory, Xavier dared to take his eyes off the ever-advancing enemies. Despite the surrounding chaos, his mind was fixed squarely on Viola.

  To his horror, he quickly found exactly what he sought. Face down on the ground, Viola lay helpless with Orm’rak kneeling on her back. Holding her by the back of her hair with one hand, he slipped a dagger underneath her neck. Xavier began running, leaping over the dying lerwicks even as they were still falling. His whirling blades cutting and slashing, he tried to carve out a path in order to reach her in time.

  More and more lerwicks stepped in his way, each of them dying just as fast as they appeared. But they didn’t seem to care. It was as if they were sacrificing themselves in order to buy their master more time. Xavier’s blades danced, shredding flesh as he lowered his shoulder. Throwing himself in the fray, he knocked down two more before stumbling past them and hitting the ground. Skidding across stone, a pair of black boots seemed to slide right up under his nose as he came to a stop.

  Lungs on fire, trembling arms numb with exhaustion, Xavier slowly pushed himself off the ground. He looked up at Orm’rak, his expressionless face cold as stone. Xavier’s eyes drifted to the blade he held as a single drop of red dripped from the razor-sharp edge. Seeming to fall forever, the drop finally splashed into the puddle of blood Xavier had not noticed until this very moment.

  Bringing his other hand around from behind his back, Orm’rak proudly displayed his bloody prize. Held up by her hair, Xavier started unblinkingly at Viola’s severed head. All the blood drained from his face as he rocked back and sat on the ground. With the raging swirl of emotions canceling each other out, all he could feel was a sad numbness pulsing through his mind. He couldn’t accept what he was seeing, yet he couldn’t find the will to look away either.

  A tear rolled down from the corner of her eye. Suddenly, her lids snapped open. Red eyes rolled into focus, fixing their glare on Xavier. Her lower jaw dropped open as her mouth produced sound without her lips ever touching. “Where were you when I needed you most? You promised you would always protect me.” Her forehead creased as dark veins rose up all around her face. As if crying tears made of ink, her eyes suddenly turned black. “I trusted you!” Her hissing voice seemed to shake the ground.

  Xavier sat up with a jolt, his heart slamming against the inside of his chest. Covered with cold sweat, his body trembled uncontrollably. What did I just see? Was it all really just a horrible dream? Although not sure why, he glanced at his arm and flexed his fingers. Everything seemed normal enough. What exactly was he expecting to see?

  He wasn't thinking straight. That horrible dream had shaken him right to his core. And what was he was doing out here anyway?

  He threw himself back onto the soft ground and stared up at the sky. His clothes were little more than rags and his head pounded as if he been drinking for a week straight. “What is going on?” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his temples while trying to think. Where was he? What had he been trying to— “Viola!” he cried out, sitting up quickly. His head swam and he thought he might throw up, but that was the least of his concerns. He was starting to remember. He had gone up into the mountains to pursue Viola. She was in trouble. But when he got there...

  He remembered that creature, Orm’rak. It was the same one from his dream. He was trying to hurt her and...and... Dream? No, he was remembering what happened. That had to be it. He went to rescue her and...and...he failed! That thing must have killed her. She was counting on him. He traveled halfway across the realm to save her, and failed to keep his oath. She was dead because of him! It was his fault. He might as well have killed her himself!

  Xavier wailed, throwing himself back onto the grass. He failed! He had come so close, yet couldn’t pull her from the jaws of death. A step too slow, a second too late, it had proved to be the difference between holding her in his arms and laying her to rest for the last time. It was all his fault. He didn’t deserve her! He didn’t deserve anyone.

  Laying in the morning sun, he wept like never before. It was the deepest sadness he had ever felt. How could he have failed to save the person who meant more to him than anyone else in the world? What if she had never met him? Would she still be alive? These questions would most likely torment him the rest of his days.

  Still weeping hours later, his sadness slowly became anger and self-loathing. Shamed by his failure, his mind plunged into a dark place. What good was he to anyone? This failure was unforgivable. Owen would eventually find himself a competent apprentice, one he could actually count on. But as far as Xavier was concerned, exile was the only option left.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, finally sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You deserved so much better. If there were any justice in the world, it would have been me instead of you.”

  Gathering himself,
the broken warrior rose to his feet. Standing was no easy task. With some of the emotional numbness wearing off, he could now feel the numerous wounds all over his body. Glancing down at his tattered clothing, he could see blood stains both fresh and old. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the mountains far off in the distance. The range was at least fifty miles away. Again, he couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten this far away. But it didn’t matter how he got here, nor did it matter where he was going. All he knew was that his friends were better off without him. He was cursed. Better to be cursed alone than to drag them down with him.

  Dragging his feet with no real destination in mind, his thoughts began to drift. But time and time again they drifted back to Viola. He remembered the first time he showed her the set of exotic plants called lartrous vines.

  “It’s beautiful,” she gasped, barely able to speak.

  “There’s more,” said Xavier, reaching inside his inner pocket. He pulled out a small device that looked to be several small bamboo shoots strung together. He brought the crude little instrument up to his lips and blew lightly, producing a single drawn-out note. Reacting to the tone, the clear pods leaned to the right as the flowing water took on a fluorescent, bluish hue. Their flowing tentacles danced and waved about as if they were enjoying the sound.

  Viola squealed with delight, then quickly clasped a hand over her mouth, concerned she might disrupt the magic with her voice. Xavier blew on a second pipe, producing a higher-pitched sound. The clear mushroom caps quivered briefly before leaning to the left, the flowing water now changing to a light yellow color. Even the air smelled different, changing from a flowery scent to a tangy, lemony fragrance.

  She had been so innocent. Even the simplest of nature’s beauties could keep her spellbound. She never took things for granted the way other people did. It was part of what made her special. It was one of the many reasons he loved her.