Zachariah

I was told that my grandfather was a warrior from a select group called the Way of Blunted Blade. A group that was said to be the lifeblood of many, many legends. Growing up, I thought that the group was exactly that. A legend. A fantastic tale of honor-bound heroes of unbeatable skill weilding swords of Sk'uul steel.

Source steel. Epic warriors. A code of honor.

A nice thing to think of, but I never believed it. That was until Oji brought me my grandfather's sword, wrapped tight in leather bindings, the unmistakable glimmer of Sk'uul steel peeking through the bindings. Even though it had been more than a decade in hiding, the blade still gleamed with the colors of the sky at daybreak.

There was a seal covering the blade in silver-lined Thunderwood fiber with the symbols of Elder Speech imprinted on it.

For when peace fails, a new monster must be born.

And that was what I saw when I looked at Rowena, my oldest friend. A monster.

The air cracked as Rowena formed her shadows into wings, wings for the God's sake, and powered after the Chosen like a hound on a scent. A muscle ticked in my jaw as the Chosen fled from the fight he picked.

Coward. Not that I expected anything else.

Lera gave a whoop the second Rowena sped away, unfurling her own wings and drawing her swords. The whisper of steel cut through the sounds of the Night Garden.

"Finally!" she cried, jumping off the ground with a perfectly-time beat of her wings. And then she was soaring after them. Fifty feet. A hundred. Two hundred.

I took an uneasy step in their direction, but they were already black specs in the distant sky over the red ocean by the time I made it ten paces. How was it possible to go from feeling so powerful to feeling so weak? My body complained with every step, every part of my soul catching up to my injuries. I bet the fight would be over by the time I caught up to them, but it didn't matter. I had to catch up to them and see this through. Thinking of this, I forced myself into a run.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I turned to see Lorian, his face a grim mask, and his massive bulk emphasized by the black armor catching in the low light. He stared down at me, an unnatural weight to his gaze. Remembering the duty of an Angel of Death. I met his eyes. Angels of Death led souls to the afterlife once they entered Purgatory. I wondered then how many souls were led to the afterlife by him. Did he reap my father? The dozens of fellow abandoned children on the street who were claimed by sickness or the icy breath of winter?

Did he even remember them?

"I told you your eyes were not those of a martyr," he said, his tone flat. We descended into silence, Lera's laugh's echoing in the distance. I wished he would just speak plainly instead of these enigmatic warnings. So far this being had been all words and no action, and I was not impressed. Elemancy or no, I knew he could likely kill me with half a thought just by looking at him. I knew what type of man the Chosen was. He was one who survived on schemes and tricks. But Lorian was a warrior honed by more than one millennia of training. But I still wasn't intimidated by him. I just wished he would explain himself faster. Or be useful. Preferably that.

So I stayed silent. People eventually did one or the other to fill the silence.

He sighed after a heartbeat, looking to sky where the others had disappeared.

"You're too slow. Let me carry you. Your role here is not yet done," he commanded, extending his other hand to me. I froze, staring at the hand for several moments. What did that mean?

But then he reached for my arm and my decision was made for me. The Night Garden blurred, the air rushing past me with abandon. I wasn't aware of beginning to move, only that we were flying over the plane of plants and flowers, a silvery glow coming off them. Before I even realized where we were, we were slowing, descending to the ground.

And that was when I heard it. A boom that shook the sky.

Looking down, I saw lighting arc out of a dome of shadow on a vast beach at the base of a titanic tree. A thunderwood tree. My eyes locked on it as I felt the tree's aura more than saw it. It was the difference between dipping your hand n a stream and standing under a waterfall. Everything in the entire plane seemed to pull toward the tree that didn't seem to end. The branches vanished into the sky, and the roots twisted across the beach and into the red ocean.

"That is Tonitruum. The tree. His roots bind the planes together. Very few of the living have ever seen it," Lorian whispered, our feet landing on soft sand. Lera floated nearby, her attention solely on the beach. Ignoring Lorian, I followed her gaze just in time to see the dome of shadow dissolve as a figure as thrown from it. A humanoid thing of gray skin and a featureless face. Cruel cuts lined its torso, fingers and toes hanging on by bare slits of skin. It tried to back away, but it collapsed back to the sand in a heap as one its toes hooked under its foot. It yelped, the sound high and pathetic.

The darkness regathered around another figure of red eyes and pale skin. Flowing black hair tumbled over black armor. A figure that wore Rowena's face.

My jaw hardened as I watched her stride toward where the creature landed. There was nothing left of the true Rowena in this things' s face, a twisted smile curling her lips as the gray-skinned creature recovered slowly. The aura coming Rowena was staggering. A pressure settled in the air, making it harder to breath. It pulsed from her in waves, the ground itself rippling like water. The gray figure gave off an energy as well, but it was dwarfed by hers. Since Rowena was fighting it, I assumed this was the Chosen. Out of energy to shift forms.

The Chosen rounded on Rowena, going to a half-kneel as the aura around it grew stronger. He thre an arm out, energy rippling from his palm and arcing toward Rowena's head.

Her shadows responded for her, encircling the energy and drawing it into it's dark depth. A ship sinking into a black sea. Rowena didn't even seem to notice the attack, her feet never breaking stride as the the Chosen sent two, three, four more pulses of energy at her. None of them met their mark.

"Find a way to stop me"

That was what Rowena had asked of me before giving in. To stop the thing that she became. Part of me recoiled as I took her in. There was a word Elemancers had for beings like her.

Dakari.

Demon.

Servant of destruction.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Rowena was my friend, and I would always show up for her, but that was not who I was staring at. This thing was a monster. Something that relished pain, brutality, and death. And that begged a question in my mind that I had no answer to.

How am I supposed to stop you, Rowena?

"Stand up," the demoness said, nearly within arm's reach of the Chosen now. Legs shaking visibly, it eventually stood, the energy around it intensifying again. A spark without kindling try to turn into an inferno. His palm curled again, and Rowena side stepped it this time, not even bothering to absorb it like she did all the others. It nearly collided with Lorian and I as we stood there, watching. A uncomfortable pressure built in my skull as it passed, making my hand brush against my temple. Warmth trickle from my nose, and I smell the coppery tang of blood.

"Don't get cock--" the Chosen said as wound healed on his face, the voice emanating from him oddly through the featureless face. He didn't get to finish his threat.

CRACK

Rowena vanished from where she stood about twenty feet from where he had landed. She was suddenly behind him, shadows curling around the Chosen's limbs and pulling...pulling.

The Chosen howled, thrashing wildly as Rowena's shadows dismembered him in a shower of blood and tissue. It was strange having physical injuries in this plane, as we were only souls. It didn't make it easier to watch.

I waited for Rowena to finish him, trying to process what I would do once we got back to the material plane. What was I going to do? This thing would kill everything in sight. All the wedding guests. Myra. Levi. Dash. I doubt the thing she had become cared. I had to get Rowena back. I had to-

She was just standing there.

The demoness made no move to kill the Chosen. She bared her teeth in a predator's grin as she watched him heal, arms and legs slowly forming, bone and muscle taking shape.

"Stand up," she ordered again, her voice barely a whisper on the wind. The Chosen began to right himself, his arms transforming into some sort of beast. His face darted around, reminding me of a cornered rat.

He's going to run again.

Despite everything, I opened my mouth to warn Rowena.

But I didn't need to.

CRACK.

Rowena appeared before him, a shadow pistol pressed to the Chosen's throat. It exploded as she pulled the trigger, a torrent of shadows piercing his skin like a hot knife through butter. The Chosen gurgled, sinking back into the gray-skinned form and going to his knees. He coughed as Rowena stood over him, the sound disturbingly wet and human.

A trickle of light tore free from his form suddenly, alarmingly bright in the dark realm. It slowly began to dissolve into nothing.

"Oh no. No," Rowena said, coiling shadows around him, "You can't go to the Abyss yet. We're just getting started."

The Chosen thrashed again, shaking under the darkness. A tendril of shadow separated itself from the mass and rose to his face. It seemed to caress his cheek before burrowing under his skin and tearing a section free.

And then he was screaming again. Screaming as if his life would end when it stopped. He scream with every breath of air in his lungs, until I was sure In would never anything but that screaming ever again.

Rowena let go suddenly, allowing him to collapse to the sand. I could see sections of his soul flayed away then, blood seeping into the sand. My stomach churned as I saw the unbridled joy on her face.

"Stand up," she said quietly, aiming her shadow pistol at the Chosen, a explosion of spike of purest darkness obliterating his flayed leg.

Seconds passed, but it may as well have been hours.

CRACK.

Teeth pulled from his skull.

"Stand up."

CRACK.

His legs forced backwards until all the joint popped out of their sockets.

"Stand up."

CRACK.

Blood.

"Stand up."

CRACK.

Screaming.

"Stand up."

"Stand up."

"Stand. Up."

The Chosen suddenly looked at where Lorian and I stood, his gaze settling on the angel as pain twisted his face.

"Help me!" he cried. Lorian didn't answer, simply staring at him. Rowena payed the Chosen's words no mind as she stalked around to his front.

"Stand up," she repeated once more, the aura of black flames around her getting larger, her eyes glowing with crimson and black. The Chosen whimpered, crawling as it slowly healed.

"What's the matter? I thought injuries weren't intimidating if you could just heal," Rowena mocked, stooping to meet his face. Something sour settled into my stomach as I watched her toy with him.

This was madness. I had no pity for the Chosen, but this wasn't Rowena. She was less recognizable with every blow she dealt him.

Lorian caught my eye then, his gaze going from me to Rowena, and I understood.

"Rowena," I called, my voice raw. She went still, and I knew she heard me even through she didn't turn. My throat felt unnatyrally dry as I forced the next words out.

"End it."

It was like throwing a stone at a bear.

Her gaze snapped to mine at last, the black and narrowing to catlike slits. I forced myself not to flinch as our eyes met. A deep chill cut through me as she stared and stared, the Chosen still whimpering as he healed. More slowly than he had before.

I swallowed, feeling the plane pause in that moment. Feeling the eyes of angels and Gods alike gazing at us.

"You are a healer," I said in Kaze, remembering Rowena and I learning the complicated language together, "Not a torturer."

The atmosphere shifted as the Kaze words hit it, a deep rumble going through the ground itself. But I didn't pay attention to that. Didn't glance at the wounded thing on the sand. I just kept staring at my friend, a girl like a sister to me.

Violet appeared in Rowena's eyes. She looked at me, sadness weighing in her pale face. She began to breath, the violet slowly replacing all of the crimson as the black retreated.

And then it came back.

The demoness growled, her hand covering her face for a moment as the shadows curled around her. When she lowered her hand, the violet was gone.

CRACK.

She stood in front of me, teeth too white under her red eyes.

"Did you really think you could reawaken my weakness with your friendship?" she asked, spitting out the last word. She stared at me impassively before that adder's grin was back darkness rising behind her like a viper ready to strike.

"Well I'm sorry you idealistic fool. It's just not that type of world."

I didn't fight back.

Suddenly there was darkness around me, binding me. I was spun around, as helpless as a rag doll in a wide arc. Once. Twice. Three times. And then my back was colliding with the trunk of Tonitruum, the world around me going a blinding white. Something in my head was exploding, my surrounding come back in tiny details at a time.

I laid around fifty feet from where Rowena stood, that dark aura the same as always.

"You're right," she said quietly in a tone that made the blood in my veins turn to ice.

"This game is getting boring. My freedom waits for me in the material plane" she continued, turning toward where the Chosen was still crumpled on the beach. She began to walk toward him as if she had all the time in the world.

Shadow bound him again, hauling him toward her as curled a hand under his chin. The Chosen groaned, more sections of light coming off of him as the shadows carved him like knives.

"I only want one more thing from you," Rowena said to him, forcing him to look at her.

"Your name."