By The Sword - Homepage
If you want to get notified of updates for this serial or chat with me as well as other serial authors, consider joining our discord server!
----------------------------------------
My heart palpitated like the beat of a drum, filling my blood with white-hot power as I drew my sword.
Barreling out of the woods, the terror scrambled toward us. The small, nearly pitch-black thing moved in a blur, faster than I’d ever seen a terror move before. And in the firelight of our camp, I could see its shining grey scars. Unfortunately for us though, they were few and far between.
I clambered upward, pushing force into my legs as I sprung from my bedroll. In front of me, Myris’ eyes shot wide and he gritted his teeth as he notched an arrow in his bow. With his eyes tracking across the tree line that the terror was still hauling through, he let go of a breath. And then he let go of an arrow only a moment after that.
The terror hissed, slowing its pace as the arrow struck through the air. In a heartbeat, it ducked, letting the arrow fly harmlessly over its head before rushing back in our direction.
Once again, the terrifying creature became nothing but a blur of black against the night. But in the moments it had slowed, I’d seen its form—even if the images were still churning through the gears in my mind.
The terror was small and hunched, with whipping tendrils coming off it in all directions. I didn’t even need its sharp fear-fiending mental probe to be scared of the thing. Something about the terror spiked fear even further. Just looking at the scurrying creature, I found my deepest insecurities rising to the surface, twisting and warping into monsters of their own.
I was just lucky, in fact, that I could barely pay them any mind with white heat pulsing through my bones.
Pushing off the ground, I threw myself to the side. The terror slowed again, watching my movements as if trying to calculate where I would go next. For a moment, I wanted to glare back at it, to attack it head-on. But something told me that no matter what I thought, that wasn’t going to be a good idea.
“Jason!” Myris yelled, backpedaling with everything he had. On the other side of the campfire, the swordsman stirred, shaking his head as he rose from a light slumber.
“What are you—”
“Get the fuck up!” I yelled, stabilizing myself and tracking the terror in the corner of my eye.
Tracking that, as it turned out, probably saved my life when the terror rushing anew. The scurrying, rabid thing closed the distance between us in seconds. I twisted to the side, raising my sword before leaping back. The terror’s tendrils missed me by a mere pace.
“I thought we stopped these things,” Jason said through gritted teeth from over at his bedroll. Sparing a moment to look over at him, I saw him drawing his sword and curling his lips into a sneer as he rushed toward me.
“So did I,” I growled.
Myris’ eye twitched, staring at the terror in blatant disbelief. His hands were still working, grabbing arrows from his quiver and readying them in his bow, but I knew his mind wasn’t in it.
“Myris! Snap out of it!”
The older ranger shook his head at once and let an arrow loose. It struck through the air and caught the skittering terror only a few paces away from me. A sigh slipped between my lips as it stopped once again to hiss in pain.
The silver scars adorning its surface flared out, twitching unnaturally against its surface.
I snarled, white flames licking at the inside of my skull. As soon as I felt it—felt its power rushing through my veins, I narrowed my eyes. My teeth ground together as images of the flames danced in my head, images of it spawning from my arm, of it circling around my blade. And when I raised my sword to let my fury loose—
Nothing happened.
My blade came crashing down with all the force I’d put into it. Yet there were no flames. No energy. Not even a change in heat. The terror hissed in pain as my trusted steel dug through its shoulder, but its tendrils still flicked out. All at once, as the magic I’d thought I’d known how to cast failed, fear cracked back through my head.
I winced, backpedaling in mental pain and dragging my blade along with me. Stray thoughts entered in its wake, whispering to me, telling me my efforts were hopeless. They told me I was weak and that I couldn’t save anyone—that there was nothing I could do to stop the onset of death.
With my face contorting, I tried to push the thoughts away. I tried to push away the cold truth they seemed to force onto my soul, focusing instead on the white-hot flame within. I stared at the flame, beckoning for it to come to my aid. But all it did was continue its fiery dance.
Black tendrils inched towards me like wisps of ashen smoke threatening to choke me alive. I stared at them, my feet rooted in place. Their probing, scraping fear spun through my head, knocking away all thoughts as they went. They knocked away everything until there was nothing left in my mind. Nothing but a lone soul adrift in the black and a white flame to guide its way.
The white flame danced in the void. And I watched it, if only in an effort to block out the rest of the swirling fear. I watched it move. I felt its rhythm. I let its fire bathe me in warmth and accepted it into my soul.
All at once, the world started around me again.
Howling wind whipped at my head. Incessant hissing wormed into my ears. And feeling rushed back to my limbs.
I hauled backward, twisting away from the terror’s frigid limbs and back into a guarded stance. Staring at the inhuman beast, I gritted my teeth and raised my sword. Just as before, white-hot power twitched in my muscles, but it was different this time. Instead of coursing through my veins, it was pulsing all the way in my core as if my soul was a conduit for the flame.
For the first time, I felt energy ready at my disposal, ready for me to move, shape, and use in whatever way I could.
And I did exactly that.
White sparks erupted through the air as my blade swung down.
In front of me, the terror howled in pain. My blade swung down, slicing through the murky coils closest to me and burning them the entire way. Heat exploded out from the sparks and rushed toward the terror at lightning speed. Silvery burn marks streamed over its chest.
In some desperate attempt, the terror flew toward me again. I held my sword up, pushing all of the power I could into its blade, and brought it down. By the time metal connected with the terror’s surface, white sparks were tearing silver scars of its insides and I was already twisting away.
With speed and finesse I hadn’t felt in ages, my body flew across the ground. The terror’s hisses sounded in my ears and I relished in them as I tore my blade away. The new shiny grey scar I’d ripped through its shoulder reflected firelight into my eyes. And despite the pained, draining feeling draped over the back of my skull, I could only smile.
Then the terror charged me again.
A loud crack broke against my skull, sending me through waves of mental pain. But I held my ground and raised my blade anyway. With white fire still pumping through my veins, everything seemed to feel right. Despite the frigid air stinging my skin, the waves of pain and fatigue ripping through my muscles, and the nearly overwhelming fear threatening to take over my mind, I was fine. All the doubt and worry and incompetence was burned to a crisp, leaving a void of pure instinct and desire to see the thing dead.
Yet, before my blade could even come down, the terror was already hissing in my ears.
Blonde hair glinted in my eye and I took a step toward the tree line behind us. The pitch-black terror in front of me staggered, stopping in place. Then it hissed even louder as Jason forced his blade in.
Within a heartbeat of recognizing his face, I saw a smirk build on his lips. He glanced at me sidelong, his eyes as arrogant as always. My fingers froze on my blade and I relaxed a hair, continuing to step back as my companion dealt with the vile thing.
Jason’s blade tore all the way through the terror’s chest, glinting with unnatural silver blood as it came out the other side. But with the terror’s tendrils still flailing, very much alive, that didn’t seem to be enough. So Jason pulled out the next tool in his arsenal and furrowed his brows as orange sparks flew through the air.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The distinct, orange light of Jason’s imbued flames heated on his sword and scorched the terror all the way through. Its symphony of hisses only got louder.
Stepping back even farther, I cringed at the sound. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t take my eyes off the terror. As it was being burned alive, the hunched, rabid, horrific thing writhed in pain. At first, its form was splitting, fraying, and flailing anywhere it could.
But then Jason’s luck ran out.
Frigid black limbs struck Jason over and over. The swordsman grunted in pain and stumbled backward, tearing his blade through more flesh as he went. With each movement of his sword, the terror hissed even louder, but it didn’t let up.
Eventually, the frigid pain became too much and Jason ripped his blade away. I stepped forward, tightening the grip on my sword, but it all happened so fast. In a moment of coerced fear, Jason looked up at the terror, seething with pure rage.
In the next instant, all that rage disappeared.
Jason stepped back, letting his blade fall to his side. He blinked. His tight breaths became erratic. He shook his head. The swordsman’s eyes shot wide and I could only look into them helplessly. Where I’d seen confidence only mere seconds before, I saw only fear. Fear worse than anything we’d faced before.
The terror hissed in his face and his sword fell to the dirt. Jason accelerated his pace, holding his arms out to each side as he tried to run away from the terror. But no matter what he did, his gaze stayed frozen. Jason whipped his head around, widening his eyes seemingly at the thin air. Every few moments, he would swipe at nothing and scurry away even faster. He was reacting to things that weren’t even there.
He was being consumed by fear.
I surged at the terror. It was still repairing its chest, replacing the hole with a thick, glittering silver scar, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in a duel—I wasn’t fighting something I respected. All I cared about was ending the fight, and that only happened with the terror dead in the dirt.
My blade came in from the side as I ducked. The terror dodged, evading my swipe with inhuman speed that reminded me far too much of the beast, but I’d planned for that. Using the clarity of my fiery mind, I dropped into a roll before leaping back to my feet and shoving my blade toward the terror’s leg.
It hissed at me, the horrid sound nearly making me shudder. But I’d only barely grazed the thing.
A black tendril then in from the side. I tried to duck, to evade the impossibly frigid cold. But the terror was fast. The damned thing was just too fast.
Jolts of numbed pain shot through my shoulder and I reeled, pushing myself backward. Grass crunched under my metal boots. Gritting teeth tried to ward off the pain. And thankfully, only moments later, the white flame did the same, melting away the cold and warming me to the core.
I just wished my moment of relief could’ve gone on for longer.
The terror lurched at me, its splitting and fraying tendrils reaching out to my skin. With my keen eyes wide, I only barely tracked its movements, leaping backward just to keep out of its reach. The terror was fast though. Too fast. And it was catching up.
The familiar twang of a bow saved me from possible pain as Myris came to my aid. A hiss split the air, one that I was all too glad to hear, but the arrow hadn’t hit it. The terror turned. Its murky, humanoid head twisted away from me and stared at Myris, all scars twitching in his direction.
Using the time bought by Myris’ attack, I glanced to the side. There, more than a dozen paces away, Jason was still scampering away. Every few seconds, he would blink and shudder, shying away from some empty spot in the air as if it contained a monstrous abomination.
I swallowed as he just got farther and farther away. “Myris!” I yelled. The older ranger tore his attention away from him. “Get Jason!”
Angling my head in his direction, I glanced at the retreating swordsman. Myris followed my gaze and, after only a moment of watching, surged to help. A string of curses followed him as he sped off through the night.
Another hiss. I turned.
The terror in front of me tore away from Myris arrows and looked back toward me. Fear spiked, raking against the inside of my skull. But I was able to stay calm; I was able to stay calm enough to at least notice how many scars the terror now had.
It couldn’t have been far from death, I told myself. I just needed to take it the remaining distance.
Murky black swept toward me. I clenched my jaw and dug my heels into the dirt, letting the defensive maneuvers play back in my head. The terror was fast, that much I knew. It would get to me in a matter of moments. However, with white fire still fueling my battle, I trusted that I would be ready either way.
I leaped backward, pushing myself closer and closer to the tree line as I narrowed my eyes. The howling wind whipped at my dirt-covered cloak. Knowing the dark, twisted forest behind me, I couldn’t help but worry. Fear grabbed yet another foothold and I had to try as hard as I possibly could just to keep my eyes to the front and not go running into the trees.
Holding my sword with renewed grip, I stared the creature down. With newfound focus, I let energy into my soul. I let it pulse within me, becoming a raging fire that I only had to guide toward the terror’s death. However, instead of rushing at me—instead of attacking with crazed speed, it stayed frozen. Slowly, it raised its humanoid head and glared at me right in the eyes.
An unnatural shiver raced down my spine. The white flame tried its best to keep up. But as soon as my gaze connected with the gaze of the terror, thoughts seemed to die in my mind. All of the resolve I’d built up, all of the attacks I’d had ready—they all just… fell away and left only fear in their wake.
The corners of my vision darkened, beckoning my deepest memories. Some part of me recognized it, recognized what was going on. But for some reason, I felt powerless to stop it.
No, I thought—if the thought even was mine.
The white flame flared out, scaring away the encroaching dark, and I jolted back to my body. The weight of my sword was the first thing I felt as I regained control and dodged backward again.
In front of me, a low growl rang out. Reminiscent of some of the sounds I’d heard back in the source, it was far different than a hiss. It wasn’t the sound that a normal terror was able to make.
Movement flashed in my vision and I turned toward it. The terror—it was changing again. And as its form scrambled, reforming into something that I wished I hadn’t been able to recognize, a cold hitch caught in my breath.
There, standing in front of me and made out of pure blackness, was the spitting image of the beast. Its long, ever-sharp scythe formed only a second later. I blinked, trying to shake the image away. But by the time my eyes opened again, it was already on me.
I flung my sword out for a counterattack, the movement running through my head exactly as it happened. My feet moved, shifting into the position I needed. As soon as my blade swung, the terror’s imitation of a scythe came down and locked us both in place. I gritted my teeth, pushing forward and trying to tear steel through its flesh. But I couldn’t.
The terror looked at me with the beast’s eyes. I averted my gaze, grasping at every scrap of fire I could find both in and out of myself. The air around me lightened, making my nose twitch, but I just pushed harder.
No matter how hard I pushed, however, I couldn’t make any progress with it at all.
The beast—or the terror’s cheap imitation of it—smiled at me. The murky black bone twisted in an inhumane way, bringing up memories that were now seared into the very base of my being. I grunted, angling my blade along its fleshy scythe. All it did was stand its ground and stare at me, beckoning me to meet its gaze.
And after a while, with the fire inside me burning pure rage, I complied and looked straight into its eyes.
Touched by the scythe…
A whispered hiss echoed out in my mind. I recognized it. The terror was speaking to me.
Yet still alive… just like her…
I shook my head, breaking the stare, but the hissing voice didn’t seem to mind.
The scythe calls… heed it… heed its—
I twisted, a new action entering my head. Ripping my blade from where it was locked in the terror’s scythe, I turned all the way around and sliced it through its imitation of the beast’s arm. Tendrils spewed off its surface, pressing against my cloak and nearly freezing the skin beneath. My fire was still burning though, and it was already too late.
The terror reeled and writhed, hissing the entire way. I coughed, scrambling backward into the woods away from it. Jolts of pain shot through me, freezing my insides. My sword dropped by my side and I had to force my head up to watch the terror’s arm fall onto the grass. A large silver scar ripped through where its arm had been attached.
A heavy breath fell from my lips once I stabilized myself. All around me, the forest was thickening, the paths between the trees becoming narrower the farther I went. In the distance, I could hear Myris’ disgruntled voice. And if I really strained myself, I could hear Jason as well.
Letting the weight slip off my shoulders, I sighed. They were alive, then. There weren’t more terrors that came out to attack them. The one I’d been fighting must’ve been a straggler then. It had to be.
And if it was the last there was, then when it was dead, we would really be done.
So, furrowing my brows one more time, I brought my aching arm to the ready. All over, the bruises, the fatigue, the pain was almost enough to make me collapse onto the ground. But the little white flame was still there. My fire was still burning. And there was still more to do.
The terror staggered forward, its form shifting back into its basic, chaotic state. The shiny grey scars and wounds that littered its surface all twitched, ready to end their movement altogether. It was on its last leg then, I realized. So all in all, I had an easy task.
I raised my sword high, letting the flame give whatever energy it had left. Energy which my soul then pushed into my blade.
A flash of white was all I saw as the blade sliced in.
A smile grew on my face, dry and twisted with the vague pride of victory. I relished in the terror’s hisses, watching burn marks decorate its black form. Then, as the terror’s hisses died down, I looked it right in the face.
My heart skipped a beat.
Suddenly, all heat drained from my body. The cold air seeped into my skin, into my blood, into my bones. The white flame shied away, scurrying into the back of my mind. My eyes widened and my jaw went slack.
Staring me right in the face was the terror, teetering on the edge of life, but it looked like something else. It looked like something I hadn’t thought I’d ever have seen again. Even among the black, its features were recognizable, and it registered all the way to my core.
A kanir.
I took a step back, removing my sword from its surface. Somewhere deep in my mind, rational thought yelled at me—it told me to finish the job. But seeing the kanir’s face, I couldn’t have heard it if I’d tried. All at once, my fire was gone, all energy swept away, and I was left standing as an exhausted husk in the trees.
Fear picked at my mind, probing all the way even as the terror collapsed to the ground. I felt the little flame stir, shifting uncomfortably as the sight in front of me intensified. Every single kanir I’d ever seen rose up, along with others I didn’t remember seeing at all. But each and every one only intensified the fear.
Then, as a last-ditch effort, the flame flared out once again. Inside of me, the fire sparked again and I accepted it, letting it burn the cold away. But this time as the white flame burned brighter than I’d ever felt before, I didn’t have control.
“No,” was all I was able to get out before it took over.
My body bolted, hurtling out into the night.