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Remnants of the Dawn: The Complete Trilogy
Book 3 Chapter 50: Permitting the Noble dead to Descend to the Underworld Part 2

Book 3 Chapter 50: Permitting the Noble dead to Descend to the Underworld Part 2

Aichlan severed the arm of one of the armored undead, causing the creature to utter an ear-piercing wail as black sludge oozed from its wound. Aichlan swung wide, felling it with a slash across the neck. Aichlan shoved the other one back by bracing his sword with his shield, and juked his way past the third in a mad dash toward Osric.

  “Enough of your venom wizard!” Aichlan screamed as he leapt into the air, a hastily formed plan to cleave Osric in two.

  Osric, unsurprisingly, was not too concerned with this airborne assault. “Suffering when you fail to overcome the source of fear that set the whole affair into motion.”

  A tangle of thick vines covered in thorns and bits of flesh exploded from the tile, wrapping around Aichlan, binding him helplessly in the air. The vines pulsed and writhed like snakes, squeezing him, wrapping around his chest in a suffocating embrace.

  Osric held out his hands in a gesture of resignation as he clucked his tongue. “Such is the fate of those who devote their entire lives to revenge, blinding yourself to that which you value so and set you upon this futile venture. Life.”

  Aichlan struggled as the vines tried to swallow him into their core, crying out in pain as the thorns dug into his exposed flesh and wormed their way into the holes in his mail. He feebly attempted to hack through, but had neither the room nor the leverage to swing his sword.

  “Hear me Osric!” Aichlan craned his head, stretching to avoid having his face covered by the vines. “I shall free you of your madness by relinquishing your soul to the depths of the dusk!”

  Osric sighed and rolled his eyes with visible disappointment, turning his back on Aichlan to continue his slow trek towards the altar. “There is a place reserved for me in hell, if the Eloi shall have their way as they always have. Not so many need always remind me of this fact however, I was well aware of before I even set out on my chosen path. But since so many chose to remind me on a regular basis, I shall have to pay it a visit when this all comes to an end.”

  Osric flipped through the pages of a massive text as combat went on all around him. Eth dashed madly about the room, completely engulfed in a fire of his own making, swinging his sword wildly at the two dozen or so crows that aggressively attempted to peck out his eyes. The more Donough struggled in the web, the stickier and goopier it got. Rowena did her best to fend off the armored demons as she chased Maleah, who was still strapped to the flaming wheel. Osric raised his hand and clicked his fingers, causing the vines snaked across the room, bringing Aichlan closer to him.

  “So, tell me, was it worth it at all? What of the son you leave behind?”

  The revelation that this monster knew of his child caused Aichlan to struggle all the more. “I would rather die in pursuit of peace than raise him in the madness you seek to unleash upon us all!”

  “Then strike at me!” Osric laughed, dismissing the vines with a snap.

  “Culminate all your fear!” Osric slapped his chest, taunting Aichlan. “Your hatred! Let it be your strength!”

  Aichlan coughed as he tried to rise, covered in blood, his vision blurring.

  “And see how empty you are when the deed is done.” The tone of whimsy in Osric’s voice replaced by ineffable revulsion. “Strike at me, Aichlan, son of Garrick, defender of false prophets and enslavers of the human race.

  “See how you continue to writhe and suffer in vain.” Osric pounded his chest emphatically as he leaned over Aichlan’s battered body. “I will be that for you Aichlan, your catalyst.”

  Osric cast off his cloak with a flourish and pulled up his sleeves, returning to his book upon the altar. “But not till my work is done. And if your cause is indeed as noble as you believe, should those child gods pay you and yours pity, then you shall have your wish sooner.”

  Aichlan managed to get to his feet, trying to blink away the dual images of Osric that danced before him, his blood flowing freely from several open wounds.

  “Doubtful though that is,” Osric waved his hand over his shoulder in a dismissive gesture, “in their arrogant bliss, I doubt they even realize what is happening on this rock of ours.”

  Maleah’s spear sailed through the air and impaled Osric square in the back, knocking him forward into the altar. He grasped at the pages and the podium in shock, blood pouring from his mouth as he frantically tried to pull the weapon from his back. He coughed and spat, wheezed and nearly collapsed, unable to draw breath; choking on his own blood.

  Aichlan was equally shocked as he struggled to retain consciousness. Maleah ran past Aichlan and shoved her lance deeper into her brother’s chest. Tears spilled from her eyes as she leaned on her weapon, her body shuddering with sobs.

  “Why, brother? Why did it come to this? I loved you, looked up to you. My brother the mage,” She shoved the weapon in deeper, twisting it in as her tears flowed freely and sobs wracked her body, “how I bragged, relishing the jealous look on Karina’s face…you and Séverin were all I had, and you destroyed it.”

  Maleah stepped back, her brother's blood upon her breast and hands, burn marks on her wrists. She wore only a cotton undershirt and torn riding skirt; her armor lost, presumed ruined. She took another half step back and drew a dagger.

  “But in death,” She sniffled, wiping her nose and eyes on her hand, inadvertently smearing his blood on her face, “you shall find forgiveness; allow me to follow, my brother.”

  Maleah raised the knife to her neck, prepared to end her life when eth grabbed her hand and knocked the knife from her hand. Smoke still rose from him, and he was bleeding from numerous claw and beak marks on his arms and face.

  “An’ what d’ya think that shall accomplish lass?”

  The demon warriors collapse into piles of dust and rusted armor, the crows dispersed and flew out of the temple like bats from a cave. Rowena doubled over to catch her breath as Donough threw off the gunk that had bound him.

  “Clarissa,” Eth jerked his head towards Aichlan as the cleric ran over, “see tae him.”

  “I should have been the one to bear this burden,” Maleah sobbed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “not all of you. I’m sorry.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “I doubt it’d make much diff’rence who dealt with it in the end.” Eth shifted the weight of his blade on his shoulder. “This mess ain’t o’er yet regardless.”

  “You mean those Dusk spawn?” Rowena asked, wiping away the residue of battle.

  “No.”

  All eyes turned to Osric as he stood, wrenching the lance from his back and casting it aside. The wound rapidly sealed, leaving no sign it had been there to begin with. Osric planted his palm on the ground causing the floor to ripple like a wave surging towards the group and hurls those closest back several feet. Rowena fires an arrow, and he leans out of the way, shooting her a glare of unadulterated hatred. He stomps, sending another wave towards Rowena, the undulating tile trips her and carries her across the temple. She jumps and flips at the last moment, just before it crashes into the wall.

  “You can’t possibly think you’re a match for me!” Osric howled, spewing blood and spittle.

  “You fiend!” Rowena screamed as she aimed her bow.

  She fired two more successive shots, which he easily batted away, teleporting closer each time she blinked. Undaunted, she broke to the right, firing a steady barrage of arrows as she attempted to circle into melee range; flipping and diving over spells, firing while upside down mid cartwheel and not missing a step or a shot.

  “I will not allow you to walk away scott-bloody free!”

  “Wrong time and place to decide to grow some balls girl.” Osric summoned his staff into his hands as well as a squad of undead. “But if you wish to die so badly, I have no choice but to oblige!”

  Osric batted away the arrows as she closed in. Her quiver nearly dry, she slung her bow and drew her sword, cutting through the undead with ease as she danced towards her opponent. Osric clumsily wielded his staff, a weapon even when augmented with magic, could not so much as graze her. Each she slung was barely blocked, and despite trying several times, he could not get a spell off due to the speed which she riposted. Frustrated, he brought his staff down with all of his might, and Rowena bent over forward, allowing the blow to hit the shield still strapped to her back. She propelled herself up and forward with her back leg, driving the sword into his midsection in the process. Osric placed his hand to her shoulder and blasted her back with a spell of kinetic force.

  “You fool child!”

  Rowena recovers with a handspring and deflects an incoming bolt of black magic with her sword. Osric warps through space to close the distance and strikes her in the temple with the staff, following it up with a fireball to the gut. He staggers her, forcing her back with the mix-up, the stab wound to his abdomen having fully healed. They continue to exchange blows, with Rowena on the defensive. Aichlan rushes in with a wild swing as Osric parries one of Rowena’s strikes. In an instant, he vanished, forcing them to collide into one another, reappearing behind Aichlan to blast them both with a barrage of dark energy. Rowena pushes through in a last-ditch effort to take him down, and Osric effortlessly flings her into a pillar with a flick of the wrist. Stunned, Aichlan attempts to stand, only to be struck in the chin by the butt of Osric’s staff.

  The whoosh of fire and a flash of silver and black stopped Osric in his tracks. As Eth skidded to a stop, his flaming feet melting into the tile, Osric’s severed arm fell to the floor.

  “Son of a bitch…” As Osric bent down to pick up his severed limb, Donough blew past in a similar fashion, taking the other. “Gods damn you both! Do you truly believe me to be so fallible? I took a lance to the chest yet stand before you unfazed.” New arms shot out of the stubs, slick with fluid and blood, but otherwise unharmed. “Your ignorance is insulting…”

  Eth scratched his head, completely miffed. “How the fuck…”

  “It’s that damned egg!” Rowena stood shakily and spat out a bit of blood. "It must be destroyed!"

  Like the others, she was looking more than a little worse for wear, covered in dust and debris, sporting a nasty cut on her head that gushed forth blood to obscure her sight. Several nicks from fighting the undead, and countless bruises from being tossed about like a ragdoll. Aichlan was still punch drunk from the last hit he took, and Maleah had not moved from her spot.

  Clarissa suddenly screamed, she had been backed into a corner by the undead. Eth swore and launched himself towards her on a jet of fire, only to be halted by a wall of stone Osric erected before him in an instant. Not to be deterred, Eth kicked off the wall and hurled himself towards Osric, slugging the sorcerer with a flaming fist that knocked him on his ass before leaping over the fast crumbling wall.

  “Get down woman!” He hollered as he hurled a ball of white fire.

  Clarissa dropped to the ground and covered her head with a terrified squeak; the ball of fire reduced the closest monster to ash in moments, and Eth made quick work of the others.

  Taking advantage of Osric’s distraction, Rowena flings her shield at him, hitting him in the mouth hard enough to snap his neck. Undaunted, Osric snaps his head back in place as Rowena barrels down upon him, a large knife in one hand, and her sword in the other. She wields both weapons skillfully and with great speed, yet Osric still manages to slip and slide between all of her strikes. He counters her strikes by slashing at the air with two fingers, sending blades of razor wind to tear into her.

  “No one shall oppose me! no one!” Osric screamed just before vanishing in an explosion bushy violet smoke.

  Anticipating a warp, Rowena did three consecutive backflips, putting away her sword on the first, drawing her bow on the second, and knocking an arrow upon sticking the third. With impossible speed, Osric appeared before her, and slashes her across the stomach as she releases her arrow to fly through an after image. Osric reemerged through a ripple in space, as if fazing back into their temporal plane, and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up while squeezing with all his strength.

  “I have come too far to be thwarted by some elf. It is unfortunate that you caught me when I wasn’t feeling my usually magnanimous self.”

  “The time for kindness and forgiveness has long passed.” Rowena spat hoarsely.

  “Well said.” Osric tightened his grip, digging his nails into her flesh. “However, it changes nothing.”

  Stumbling over drunkenly, Aichlan slashed Osric across the back, causing him to nearly lose his grip on his captive. Rowena lashes out with a kick to the stomach, then jumps backwards, backpedaling away from him while rapidly slinging arrows. Osric telekinetically lifts Aichlan and tosses him, deflecting most of the arrows with a wave of his hand. Osric swipes at the air, leaving a trail of violet energy as the distance between Rowena and himself was erased, bringing the startled elf within striking distance. She reflexively raised her arms, dropping to her knees as he brought his staff down upon her with all his weight and strength, the leather vambraces she wore doing little to lessen the blow.

  Donough tackles Osric, taking the sorcerer down in a flaming blur. Osric simply warped out of the warriors hold and shot him in the back with several wobbling sludge bubbles, which exploded like boiling tar on Donough’s unprotected flesh.

  Rowena drew her sword and knife before launching herself at Osric. He blocked her slashes with his staff, she responded with the knife, and back again. Rowena successfully manages to put the unstoppable sorcerer on the defensive once again, preventing any magical counters. Osric tried and failed to push her back with the staff, taking a cut to his cheek in the process. Rowena feints a killing blow with her sword, spinning in the opposite direction at the last second to stab him in the neck with the knife. She withdrew the knife with a flourish and a fountain of blood, transitioning into a pirouette, a veritable cyclone of steel as she dropped into a crouch, rending Osric’s flesh and knocking him back. Rowena charges pounced on Osric, knocking him to the ground, where grabbed him by the collar and mercilessly pummeled him with the hilt of her sword. She quickly pops up to her feet and drops an elbow onto his face, now a bloody mass of bruised and swollen flesh. As she raised her blade to finish him, Osric warps away, reappearing directly behind her.

  Rowena turned to swipe at his knees with her sword, but was lifted telekinetically and slammed to the ground, shattering the stone tile beneath. Osric lifted her higher in the same fashion, and smashed her broken body again, snapping her neck with a sickening crack. He slowly cracked his finger joints and rolled his shoulders as the flesh on his face miraculously healed; he cast a hungry eye around the room, daring the next dissident to challenge him.

  Clarissa gasped as Eth cut his way through the last of the undead. “No…”

  Osric simply dusted himself off, largely ignoring them. “Cry me a fucking river.”