Chapter 9: Confronting The Militant Commander

Landar

My vision turned gray, and my senses heightened to a point I'd never experienced before. My heart beat like a hammer in my chest even as the air around me turned winter cold. Frost formed on the bookcase behind the Tavis, and my fist clenched down on the now frozen handle of my ax.

“Die!” I snarled more then spoke the word as Tavis pulled his sheathed sword up in a parry. Sparks flew as Dash came to an end, leaving me directly in front of the knight. My hand free hand went down to my waist again, where my hunting hatchet, my first creation now a few sizes too small for my adult sized hand rested on its loop. I yanked it free even as I brought my runic ax up in a backhanded attack.

Tavis parried it again, but this time not nearly as easily.

“What devil has you child?!” The knight yelled as he backed up into the book case cracking its wood frame and sending the now ruined texts scattering in a flurry of paper and parchment.

As he recovered I brought my hatchet down on his now exposed pauldron. The ax head chipped, but the blade itself held. For now.

I stepped forward, close in under his guard. His sword was a long blade, and I recognized that was probably the only thing that had saved me so far. He had a difficult time bringing it down in an attack with the low ceiling and close in walls. While my axes worked well in such a confined space.

That didn’t protect me in the slightest when he followed my failed attack on his shoulder with the pommel of his sword to my face.

Blood spurted across my vision as pain erupted all across my sinuses. I tried to pull back, to disengage and maybe bring one of the gadgets I had prepared specifically for use against this particular type of foe to bear. But something gripped my mind and forced me forward.

No! Kill, eat the kin takers flesh!

The words resonated in my head as they flashed in my vision through my Mental Journal and I found myself attacking with a reckless hateful abandon. The thing in my head, that now gripped my Mental Journal construct and was using it to communicate with me was enraged. It matched my own anger of just a few moments ago, but it was thoughtless. Headless of my life.

We have to retreat! I shouted into the void of my mind. I have something prepared.

My body kept attacking. The knight kept up with parries and dodges that found us breaking through furniture. Cracking the facade of wood covered stone walls, and sending the serving staff of the keep scurrying for cover.

Ambush? But the prey is facing us now! Eat the king taker! Kill him, end the threat!

Yes, I thought soothingly back at the enraged spirit. The creature I was pretty sure was the winter wolf whose core I had absorbed all those years ago. I had no idea how it had stuck around. But when I had lost control of myself I had felt something come alive.

A she wolf woken from its hibernation to the squealing terror of its pups. Enraged, and deadly. But the kin-taker is stronger than us. We must be more cunning.

Cunning. Ambush.

The creature had to think, I felt it inside my mind working out what its instincts and experience were telling it about my advice. After several close calls with the knight retaliating with short strikes that thankfully the spirit had enough wisdom to dodge, it came to a decision.

Yes!

My body dodged the latest attack, then spun and ran into the hallway.

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“Stop that boy! Something has taken hold of him!” The knight yelled orders, and I could hear soldiers and guards moving to do as they were told. But they were far away at the entrance, or in the dining hall. Too far away to be of use, not at least until I had killed this . . . this Kin Taker.

I had to suppress my own rage otherwise the creature would have taken full control. Overriding my training with her instincts to attack and kill the threat as quickly as possible. Training that I knew was vital to both of our survival.

We ran through a long corridor until we came to a stone staircase. I threw myself up the stairs sending servants scampering in different directions, dropping cloths and dishes in their haste to get out of my way.

Judging by the heavy foot falls and clanking metal, the Militant Commander was right on my heel.

I tried to let go of the hatchet. It was broken, its blade cracked all the way down its edge and chipped away, making it look like shark teeth attached to a stick. It was little more than a club now.

When I willed my hand to open, I felt my fingers gripping tighter.

My claws. Need claws.

The creature growled into my ear.

No, I said back. Those are hands. I need that one. Give it to me and I can set the ambush. Heavy clanking changed cadence as the knight, and what sounded like several guards started taking the stairs. Hurry!

We entered a large open hall on the right. I felt the ground rumble, and the sound of music came up through the wood planks and stone beams that held the floor up. There was something very loud, and very enthusiastic happening just under my feet. The room was filled with odd items. Looms, clothing, food stuffs, and other eclectic generally high quality goods festooned the tables that filled the space. Several men in white cloaks trimmed in gold sat at chairs counting eggs in a basket when I burst in.

“LEAVE!” I shouted with a roar that sounded too much like a wolf's howl to me.

The door had shattered and sent splinters all across the floor. The two men looked terrified as they raced for the door opposite the one I had entered, slamming and barring it on the opposite side.

Give me control of that hand! Now! I demanded, and after only a moment's hesitation the she wolf relented.

I dropped the ax, and in an instant my hand was rooting around in the bag that was, thankfully, still tied to my belt.

Not that one, nope. Come on, come on! My hand touched several objects. A few would have been useful, but none were the one I was looking for. The trap I had prepared just for this instance.

The knight appeared at the doorway, his sword leveled at me. The ceiling in this room was high and the room was broad and wide. He wouldn’t have any trouble using it in here. Two guards tried to rush in beside him, but he stopped them with a gesture.

“Guard the doors. Make sure he doesn’t slip by me.” he locked eyes with me, and suddenly a deep guttering animalistic growl filled the room. One that was as inhuman as it was terrifying.

It came from me.

“Son, something took over your body. A spirit. Tell me, did you take in the core of some beast you slew out there, in the wilderness?”

How the hell does he know that? I asked myself as I kept looking for what I was looking for. The growl got louder as the grew closer.

Find your trap, human! I grow hungry!

You can’t be hungry, you’re dead! Now shut up and let me concentrate! There!

I pulled the stack of triangular metal plates out of the bag, and pressed the button at their center. The plates extended out like a fan.

“What is that?” The knight asked, but he was foolish enough to keep getting closer.

The she-wolf responded by baring her teeth and snarling. Something that was as disconcerting to me as it was to the knight, judging by his expression.

“Drop the weapons, boy. I can help you. The city has spiritual healers. The Gray Priesthood can help guide you back to your right mind. And once you’re back to sanity, the Blue can help you learn to control . . .”

“GAAAH!” I lost control of my own anger, letting it slip for just a moment. That spark mixed with the boiling flame of the wolf's rage and I found my mind partially clouded.

I lunged at him, bringing my ax down in a wild swing. Imbuing the ax head with as much mana as I could. The wolf demanded it.

But I maintained just enough control to send a trickle into the golden plate in my hand made from triangular pieces of metal, each with another rune. Runes of weight, runes of binding, and runes of weakness.

I had never tested this particular item. But I was sure I knew what it would do. It activated with a hum and shimmer as mana poured from the stores I had left in the plate, and ran through the runes written across its many interlocking surfaces.

The wolf howled in my mind as my ax met Tavis’s sword. Reality rippled as the magic in the two weapons met. Blue glowing aura mixing with the odd way reality seemed to distort around runic magic.

We both skidded backwards, me nearly two feet digging my heels and palm into the rough wooden floors to stop myself from going further. Him by just a couple of steps. He was heavier, and even with magic involved, physics would have its say.

Left between us was the disk. The distortion around it grew, and began to pulse faster and faster.

“What is this witchery?!” Tavis demanded, and both the wolf and I smiled together. The item would bind the knight to the floor. Force him to his knees, and disassemble or rust his armor and weapons away. Perhaps not his magical gear. But perhaps it was strong enough even for that. I had pumped weeks worth of mana into the thing.

Faster and faster within the span of only a couple of seconds, then, it activated.

The world exploded in warping reality as mana from the runes poured out around us. It warped the wood under foot. Nails, glue, and other fasteners rusted, withered, weakened, and fell apart.

I felt myself grow heavier, my knees working extra hard to keep me on my feet as I and everything in the distortion field was bound not to the wooden floor. But to the stone a story below.

The world seemed to freeze for just a moment as I realized now, just how wrong I was about what the runes would do.

The wolf whined in my mind as she retreated, leaving me in full control of my body as I locked eyes with Tavis. Less than a heartbeat later, the floor burst apart, and I was in freefall.

My only solace was that Tavis was falling with me.