Devouring Darkness

“I told you, lightwielder,” Garen shouted down at his fallen enemy. “You never had a chance against me. Without that hand, you’ve lost your greatest weapon and now you’ll lose your life as well.”

  Satisfaction and triumph rushed through him as never before as he watched his most hated enemy struggling feebly in his final moments of life. No other battle, not a single other moment had ever seemed as sweet as standing over the trembling, broken body of Orlon Rin, and he knew that it was to be savored and enjoyed.

  An explosion of white-hot pain abruptly ended his triumphant glee. Wracked with excruciating pain, Garen fell to one knee and reached back toward the source of the pain. His fingers touched a blade that had been stabbed into his back and at once began to burn.

  “Yet another trick, lightwielder?” he shouted in a pain-filled rage.

  From out of nowhere, the mysterious blade had plunged into him piercing his heart. Oddly, he felt no fear of the seemingly fatal wound. After staggering briefly, his lightning roared to life and pushed the blade from his back and devoured it.

  Blood poured from the wound, but even as it flowed out of him, the demonic liquid set to work closing the wound. In moments, the blood had slowed dramatically. Within his chest, the pain of his pierced heart dulled as his flesh began to knit itself back together.

  As his body quickly recovered from the nearly fatal attack, he shuddered with rage and sought out his attacker. Senses on alert and sharply focused, he immediately discerned the breathing and heartbeat of a second lightwielder standing only a dozen feet behind him. Fury instantly gripped him and he lashed out with his massive sword as he turned. Garen’s blade tore through the would-be assassin’s chest and lifted him off the ground.

  “Temin, no!” cried Orlon Rin.

  A strange sense of loss washed over Garen as he looked up at the boy that was slowly sliding down his sword; a boy not much older than Cero. Through the pain of shock and sorrow, Garen wrested control of his body back from the shade of Gormum and reflexively restored the mental barrier between them. Immediately, the violet lightning disappeared; both the sword that he'd wielded and the armor that he'd worn vanished, and the boy fell to the ground at his feet.

  “What have I done?” he asked in horror.

  “No, not Temin,” Orlon shouted, “You’ve killed him you heartless demon.”

  Garen felt as if he were trapped in a nightmare as he stared down at the boy that lay dying before him. Orlon’s frantic shouting sounded distant and muted. As he knelt beside the boy, he gently placed his hand behind the boy’s head and raised him slightly.

  “I’m sorry,” he told the boy in a tear-choked voice, “I never wanted this.”

  “P-please... don’t... kill master... ” the boy said in a struggled voice barely above a whisper.

  The boy was fading fast and his breathing was growing ever shallower, but he was able to mouth a final, breathless word: Rin. Tears ran down Garen’s face as he clutched the boy’s lifeless body.

  Orlon Rin continued to cry out, and, as he couldn’t stand, he began to drag himself across the ground toward Garen and the corpse of the valiant boy in his arms. Garen could hear the lightwielder approaching, but he paid him no mind; he no longer cared about the lightwielder or their stupid, pointless battle. He sobbed quietly and held the boy close even as a hand seized his arm in a frantic grip and pulled him down onto his back.

  The lightwielder, Orlon Rin, fabled hero of The World of Light, pulled himself onto Garen’s chest with his stump and raised his other hand as high as he could clutching a dagger of light. Glaring at him with eyes that burned like miniature stars, the lightwielder’s face was contorted by grief and hate into a pained scowl.

  “You killed him, demon. Temin, my friend and pupil, is dead because of you and I will show you no mercy.”

  “You killed him, you god-forsaken demon. My pupil, my friend; Temin was like a son to me and now he's dead because of you! I'll show you no mercy. I'll kill you no matter what it takes!”

  The lightwielder’s arm dropped like a hammer, bringing with it the gleaming dagger of light that was meant for Garen’s heart. He no longer cared to fight the lightwielder and didn’t try to struggle or move. Resigned to his fate, he simply watched as the blade inched closer and closer to his chest. Time seemed to have slowed in order to punish him by making his death excruciatingly longwinded.

  Just before the blade could bite down into his flesh, however, it stopped abruptly. Both he and Orlon Rin looked up in surprise. Holding onto the lightwielder’s arm and preventing his death like a guardian angel was Cassandra in all of her demonic glory. Fully transformed into her demonic state, she lifted Orlon off of Garen as if he weighed nothing and ruthlessly threw him to the ground a few feet away.

  “Enough of this, lightwielder,” she said in a bone-chilling voice laced with anger and venom. “You should’ve stayed in your own world.”

  Cassandra marched over to Orlon’s broken, pain-wracked body and delivered a vicious kick to his ribs that undoubtedly shattered several of them. Rolling from the attack, Orlon gasped in pain, but was unable to defend himself. As Cassandra advanced on him again, he tried to form a spear of light with his remaining hand, but she was too fast. Rushing inside the range of his weapon, she grabbed his good arm to keep him from moving and seized him by the throat.

  “Cassandra,” Garen said softly, his voice pitiful and full of regret, “leave him be. That was the final wish of this boy even as he lay dying.”

  With an annoyed growl, she released her hold on Orlon’s throat and backhanded him across the face, knocking him unconscious. Still dangling him by his good arm, she turned to look at Garen.

  “What am I supposed to do with him then?”

  “Return him to his own world, there’s been enough bloodshed on this mountain already.”

  Nodding slightly, she flung Orlon’s unconscious body over her shoulder and dashed up the mountainside as if she were flying rather than running. Garen watched her for a moment as she became smaller and smaller, before he turned his attention back to the boy that lay in his lap.

  He deserves better than being left out in the open like this. I owe my sanity to this young lightwielder. He gave his all to save a loved one, and I butchered him for it. He was just like Cero was all those years ago when he was taken while trying to protect me. And the demon; I'm just like that demon.

  Rising to his feet, Garen held the boy in his arms as he willed the power within him to life. Lightning jumped from his shoulders and quickly carved a nearby boulder into a sarcophagus that was embedded in the mountainside. He walked over to the rectangular, stone coffin and lowered the boy gently down into it.

  “You deserve better than this, but this is the best that I can do for you.”

  Without another word Garen carved another boulder into a thick, heavy lid and moved it into place. Into it he carved the words: Temin, student of Orlon Rin, hero.

  He glanced back up the mountain toward the tunnel that he'd carved through the black stone. Though they could not see him with their human eyes, he saw several of the slaves’ faces peeking out from the tunnel including the small face that belonged to Cero. His small face was filled with both fear and wonder as he stared out from the tunnel and Garen choked back his grief.

  These slaves, no, these people need me if they are to survive in this world. Five other tunnels remain around the mountain. Each is probably full of people just like this; suffering pain, fear, and cold emptiness.

  Warring feelings of remorse and obligation gnawed at him, but his grief could not overpower his driving need to protect the others. Garen placed a hand on the heavy, stone top of Temin’s tomb for a moment, and then started to make his way back up the mountain toward the tunnel and the waiting slaves.

  I will change that; I will save all of them from this misery.