Ring of the Or'tux, page 36
Chapter 27
Pain flared as entities that were no longer held at bay by the shield, attacked. Before him, Larus saw Father Thomas crash to the floor as they surged forward. Lances of pain tore through him as their touch drew forth his very essence. The attacks quickly robbed him of strength causing his knees to buckle beneath the added weight of Hunter draped over his shoulder. Crashing to the floor, he saw them congregating around him greedily.
Over and over pain ripped into him as each entity strove to get as much of his essence for themselves before it was gone. Struggle though he may, he couldn’t fend them off. Arms flailed in a futile attempt to ward off beings lacking all properties of corporealness.
Dark blots against the darkness, they fought as much with each other as they did against the three lying upon the cold stone of the floor. Time and again spectral appendages which bore faint resemblance to those of humans reached out and brought pain. Larus screamed as three simultaneously reached within him. The ensuing pain was like nothing he had ever felt before. Shrieking, he felt even more of himself being ripped away.
As the pain wracking his body caused his limbs to convulse, his head flopped side to side. It was then he spied the sacred piece of wood lying upon the floor not far away. Mere inches separated it from where the fingers of his right hand clinched and unclenched uncontrollably as more spectral appendages hungrily entered his innermost being.
His eyes fixated on the wood. The visual contact brought with it a soothing to his pain, enough to quiet the worst of the convulsions. Using the last traces of strength his body contained, he thrust himself across the floor toward it.
One of the entities barred his way. First his fingers, then his hand and arm went cold as it passed through the embodiment of evil until finally coming to rest upon the sacred piece of wood. At the moment of contact, power surged into him. The darkness was shattered as the Qyaendri glow suddenly blazed forth with blinding intensity.
Inaudible shrieks of anger and pain erupted around him as the glow pierced the malignant entities. Those closest to Larus were obliterated outright while the others quickly fled the pain the glow brought them. In a matter of seconds, the room was empty but for the three men lying upon the floor.
As the power coursed through him to quickly heal his wounds it brought strength back to his limbs. Larus gazed at the sliver of wood in his hand and knew it for what it was. In disbelief he realized that what he held had once been part of Casdralla’s Temple Prime upon this world! Imbued with the power of many Qyaendris, the Temple Prime was a refuge for Her faithful against the powers of other gods. And now that energy was pouring into Larus like water into an empty urn.
Abilities that had been beyond his reach since Daeson mortalized him returned. He felt the shackles of earthly existence begin melting away as more and more of the residual Qyaendri power imbued within the sacred piece of wood revitalized him. He now understood why his strength had returned to him back in the Ullentite camp, as well as the glow and other minor abilities such as seeing well in the dark. It had been due to the fact he had been in close proximity with this sliver of wood.
Remembering the other two lying motionless nearby, he sent his senses out toward them and could see that though they were weakened almost to the point of no-return, they still lived. Hunter’s breathing was shallow and sporadic, his heart beating very slowly. Father Thomas’s heart still held a strong beat, he could easily feel every lub-dub, though his body was in a state of shock from the lethal ministrations of the entities.
That brought their situation back to him quickly. Beyond the room, sheltered from the effects of his glow, they waited. Anger and hate washed over him. He could feel their desire to return and end the lives of these mortals who had intruded upon their domain. Then, he felt something else begin to stir.
It was akin to those entities which had attacked them, yet much stronger. In his mind’s eye now augmented by his returned abilities, he saw it as a mass of darkness shot through with flashes of red and purple. Larus’ eyes turned toward the stairwell leading up and knew it resided somewhere in its upper reaches. A moment later a chill went through him and he knew the being’s attention was focused directly upon him. Mist formed in the air as his every exhalation flowed out into a room whose temperature was steadily dropping. The thing that had sent despair to overwhelm them was coming!
Lurching to his feet, he moved to place himself between his two unconscious comrades and that which was approaching. He attempted to reach other Qyaendris nearby for aid, but was soon to realize his returned abilities didn’t extend that far. The power gained from the sliver of wood had restored him more fully, but he still had quite a ways to go before he could call himself a Qyaendri. He was only given a brief moment to wonder why the sliver of wood had restored his abilities at all before the stairwell was blotted out by an inky blackness.
The temperature dipped below freezing as a black mass oozed its way into the room, not only from out of the stairwell but also through the very walls and ceiling. Flares of red and purple shot through the growing mass of blackness. He could feel the power of the dark thing, waves of malignant evil rolled over him leaving an unclean feeling in their wake. Not corporeal by any definition of the word, the thing still held a presence which could not be denied.
His mind boggled at such a thing. Never before had he encountered anything even vaguely resembling the frightening mass before him. Not even during his time as one of Casdralla’s Celestial Warriors. This was beyond him. His uncertainty blossomed into fear as he realized the glow coming from him was slowly diminishing as the blackness filled the room more and more.
Then suddenly, ice cold pain erupted in his foot causing him to stumble backward. Looking down in shock he saw a tendril of absolute darkness disappearing back through the stones where his foot had been a moment before. Others began emerging from out of the floor in ever growing numbers. And in that blackness, the entities which had earlier attacked them, approached.
“Casdralla!” he exclaimed.
The glow coming from him no longer held them at bay, its radial of affect steadily shrunk in on itself as more of the dark thing filled the room. They had to get out of there and now!
Tendrils writhed throughout the floor of the room. Several now rose between him and his comrades. Leaping over them, he quickly returned to where Hunter lay. Reaching down, he picked up the unconscious man and was greeted by a vision of horror. For where Hunter had lain, two of the writhing tendrils extended from out of the stone floor. Slightly lighter in color than the others, they soon returned to the same blackness as the rest now that they were no longer able to feed upon Hunter.
As the density of tendrils in the room increased, they began fusing together forming greater, thicker bands of blackness. Between him and where Father Thomas lay, one of the larger bands rose amidst more of the lesser. It rose higher than he could safely jump with Hunter across his shoulder.
“Lady!” he cried out to Casdralla. “I need your aid!” Fearing such a cry would be useless coming from a fallen Qyaendri such as he, he was startled by the blinding light which blazed forth from the hand holding the sacred piece of wood. When the initial flash of light vanished, a grin came over him when he saw that his hand now gripped one of the swords of the Celestial Warriors. “Thank you my Lady!” he shouted.
Striking out at the large band of blackness before him, light flared as the ethereal blade connected. Passing effortlessly through the band of darkness, it severed the upper section from the lower. No longer attached to the whole, the upper section dissolved and vanished. Encouraged, he laid about him with the sword, clearing a path toward Father Thomas.
He could feel the rage and hate rolling from out of the blackness as more of the tendrils fell to his blade. A slice to the right severed three, a back hand hack to the left took out four more and then he was at Father Thomas’ side. Two pale tendrils had emerged through the priest’s body one near his neck and the other through his left leg. Each were feeding on the man’s life force.
Larus raised the sword high and called out, “By the sacred name of our Lady Casdralla, save this holy man!” Striking down, he plunged the sword into Father Thomas’ body at the neck. He felt the blade connect with the tendril within the priest. Even as the tendril dissolved into nothingness, he passed the ethereal blade through Father Thomas’ chest and down to where the second tendril was feeding. In a moment, that tendril was gone as well.
He reached out to take the priest as more tendrils came through the floor, searching for living flesh. Moving the sword in fast arcs, tendrils were hewed asunder. But for each he destroyed, another took its place. He couldn’t get ahead of them!
Remember the ways of the Qyaendri. The words of Ftheril came back to him. “Yes!” he cried out as understanding came.
With his free hand, he removed the knife at his belt and cut through his trousers and into his leg. Still using the ethereal sword in his right hand to ward off the outreaching tendrils, he replaced the knife back in his belt. Praying to Casdralla that this would work, he reached through the newly formed hole in his trousers and inserted his fingers into the blood welling from the wound beneath.
It was one of the abilities given Qyaendris serving gods that he planned to take advantage of now. With their blood, Qyaendris could sanctify places, making them sacred to their god. And in so doing, create an area impassable for anything other than mortals and those beings following the god of the Qyaendri whose blood was used. In this case, Casdralla.
“In the name of Casdralla,” he intoned as he flicked droplets of his blood outward. Three droplets flew from his finger. He watched one as it flew toward a large band of blackness. Anger and hatred roared unheard as the droplet struck the band, causing it to dissolve into nothingness.
Encouraged, his hand returned for more of his blood. Intoning, ‘In the name of Casdralla’, he flicked more droplets into the encroaching blackness. Then, he placed a droplet upon the forehead of Hunter and another on Father Thomas saying, “Protect them Lady.” No sooner has his blood touched their skin than the black tendrils reaching for them recoiled.
The entities within the darkness went wild as the men were placed beyond their reach. But Larus knew the protection would not last long. The sanctification by Qyaendri blood was not a permanent state. Rather it could be likened to a ‘quick fix’. And in his reduced Qyaendri state, would the affect of his blood be strong enough to hold even for a minute? Or would it begin to fade immediately? He didn’t plan to remain and find out. It worked for the moment. That would have to be enough.
Bending over, he first picked up Hunter and slung him over his shoulder. Then, he lifted Father Thomas and placed him across the other. Around him, the dark tendrils were coming together to form thicker bands of twisting blackness. Turning toward the passage leading to the drawbridge, he used the ethereal sword to clear a path through the blackness.
Neither of the two men draped over his shoulders moved. His senses told him that they lived, but that their life hung by a tenuous thread. If he didn’t get them out of there soon, the thread of life would snap.
Waves of anger rolled over him as he carried them from the room. Intense hate burned into him as he raced along the passageway toward the drawbridge and safety. Up ahead, he could see a faint light that was the way out. Behind him, tendrils now thick enough to fill the entire passageway raced after. Without pausing, he fled with his two comrades slung over his shoulders.
As the distance to the drawbridge narrowed, so too did the hate and anger grow stronger. It did not wish to allow him to leave. In a massive burst of energy, dark tendrils exploded outward from the walls in the space ahead.
“Casdralla!” he shouted as he wielded the ethereal sword of the Celestial Warriors with all the sacred might which was their province. Light flared as every stroke of the blade severed more of the tendrils. A sudden surge of energy behind him caused him to pause and turn back just as a massive tendril of blackness shot forward with incredible speed. Before he could react, it pierced his body.
Pain erupted as the tendril passed through. He could feel it quaver as it encountered the holiness of his god coursing through his body, but such was the density, power, and pure evil of the black tendril that it was able to withstand the contact and remain.
Staggering from the blow, Larus quickly laid into the dark tendril with the sword. Other tendrils came and wrapped themselves around his legs. Though having no substance, still they inhibited his movement. Now less than thirty feet from the drawbridge and escape, he was being assaulted by a mass array of tendrils in a last desperate attempt to keep him within the Temple of the Or’tux.
When he struck out at the massive tendril filling the passageway and threw it back, the ones on his legs grew tighter. Turning the sword upon the ones binding his legs, pain flared anew as the massive tendril pierced him again and drew forth his life force.
Gnashing his teeth, he bore the pain elicited by the massive tendril feeding upon him as he fought to free his legs. Freeing the left, he took a step. Then just as his left foot came to rest and he began working on the right, more tendrils sprouted out of the floor to once again bind his left leg anew.
Alternating from one to the other, he repeatedly freed his legs, each time coming closer toward the drawbridge. All the while his strength continued to wane as the massive tendril’s continual sucking of his life force further weakened him. The power coursing from the sacred wood was being sapped by the assault almost as fast as it was pouring into him.
Twenty feet to the drawbridge. Ten feet. He was sweating now. Legs growing rubbery from the strain placed upon them by the added weight of Father Thomas and Hunter. Five feet. Chills wracked his body as his life force grew dangerously weak. Three feet. Stumbling, he went to one knee and was barely able to come erect again. Two feet.
The sword was dimmer now than it had been. As his life force diminished, so too did the power of the sword. Each blow striking the tendrils wrapped about his legs was having less and less of an affect. So close! If he reached out he could touch it.
Then, unable to support the weight of bearing the two men any longer, his knees buckled. Larus cried out as he toppled to the side and slammed into the passage wall. Using what strength was left to him, he thrust Father Thomas and Hunter toward the drawbridge. His heart sank when they came to land with only the upper parts of their bodies having passed through to the outside. Greedy tendrils quickly sprouted and began to feed.
“My Lady!” he cried out. “Help us!”
“Sounded like a prayer, didn’t it?” Ftheril asked.
Daeson nodded.
In the blink of an eye, he was garbed in the full battle dress of a Celestial Warrior, sword blazing in the dark. “Grab the priest,” he said as he rushed forward to take charge of Hunter. Unable to pass the threshold of another’s temple, Daeson was still able to take hold of Hunter’s arm which had passed beyond the opening and pull him the rest of the way out.
Tendrils writhed their way from out of the opening, only to be struck by the full might of a Celestial Warrior. Daeson let Ftheril convey the two mortals across the drawbridge to safety on the other side while he stood before the entrance. No more than three inches on the other side rested Larus’ hand, out of reach despite being so close.
“Larus!” he shouted. With the Qyaendri glow blazing forth in a blinding light, he sought to get Larus’ attention. “Larus! I can’t reach you.”
Tendrils writhed their way in and around the body of the former Qyaendri. Daeson could sense Larus was fast descending to the point of no return. “Larus!” he shouted again. Then with relief, he saw Larus’ eyes open. “Larus, I need you to move closer,” he stated. “I can’t reach you where you are.”
Larus saw the shining light before him and heard the voice. “Move closer?” he moaned. Every inch of his body was on fire and he didn’t think he had any strength left to comply.
“Yes,” Daeson replied. “Casdralla needs you to move forward.”
“My Lady?” breathed Larus.
“That’s right Larus,” Daeson said. “Our Lady needs you to stretch your hand forward.”
The shining light told him his Lady needed him. He couldn’t let Her down! The tendrils which had bound him before had relaxed when he was no longer moving toward the entrance. Gazing toward the shining light, he mustered strength he didn’t know he had and reached.
Immediately, tendrils locked on him. Having moved the tips of his fingers to within an inch of the temple’s border, he fought against the grasping blackness.
“Reach, Larus!” urged Daeson. “Casdralla needs you still!”
Then uttering the cry ‘Casdralla!’ his fingers crossed the threshold. Before blacking out, he felt pressure being exerted on the ends of his fingers.
It was dusk when he awoke. The first thing he knew was pain. His body ached as if it had been struck repeatedly with clubs from the top of his head all the way to the soles of his feet. A moan escaped him as he turned his head.
Lying nearby were the still forms of Father Thomas and Hunter. With relief he saw their chests rise and fall though they showed no other signs of being alive. Closing his eyes again, he thought back to their flight from the Or’tux temple. Then it occurred to him that he had no recollection of how they had made it across the drawbridge. As he thought hard on what happened, the crackling pop and sizzle of burning wood became apparent.
Opening his eyes again, he sat up quickly which produced a feeling of lightheadedness. Sure enough, there was a fire burning in a ring of stones not very far from where the three of them lay. Another astonishing thing, their horses were tethered to a nearby tree. One turned to look in his direction and snorted. “How…?” he began.
“Just taking care of business,” a voice said behind him.
