Chapter 5 - The True Sight

The claws squeezed with irresistible power, and Skyle screamed in agony as he felt his abused arm shudder, threatening to break at any moment. The momentary blindness and nausea that had overwhelmed him as soon as he had been pulled through the strange portal were wiped clean off his mind by the new wave of agony from his arm.

“Let me go!” Skyle cried out in alarm as he instinctively reached towards the dagger hanging from his belt in order to defend himself. However, his hand froze halfway through the motion when his eyes finally had the opportunity to examine his surroundings. The skies were pitch dark, with no stars or moon to illuminate them. However, a dull, weak light seemed to suffuse the very air, dimly tracing the contours of a spectacle that took all of Skyle’s breath away.

It was an army.

However, it was an army the likes of which he had never even heard of in his life, let alone see with his own eyes. Neat rows of figures stood side by side in formation, thousands upon thousands of them, each massively muscled and reaching at least two meters in height or more. They all bore similar armors of a glittering black metal with intricate engravings decorating its surface. Full facial helmets hid most of their features, but their eyes glowed with a quiet air of confidence that strangely enough, reminded Skyle of his father.

“Lord Vissus, we have captured another sacrifice for the ritual!” a shrill voice cried out excitedly, and it took Skyle a moment before he realized it came from the figure who was holding him dangling in the air by his arm. When Skyle turned to examine his captor, his eyes widened as far as they could go.

His captor was dressed in the same black armor of the other men, although it was much less intricate. Also, he was not wearing a helmet. Instead, bony spikes poked out from his flesh all over his face. A small, beady pair of eyes glittered with excitement as the dark claws shook him once more, drawing a grunt of pain from Skyle.

“Stop squirming, you little beast,” the monster holding him ordered. Skyle slowly let his hand drop while surreptitiously shifting his clothes around so as to hide the dagger. Confronted with the sight of this massive army, it would do Skyle no good to lash out rashly. Although his mind was reeling from shock, Skyle still tried to remember the lessons his father had taught him for emergencies. Putting on a terrified expression on his face was not difficult at all, and Skyle’s eyes betrayed none of the myriad thoughts flashing through his mind as he quickly began to try and make sense of all this madness.

“Well done, Mercius. It’s a young one, but I can smell great power in his blood!” a dry, rasping voice crooned from behind Skyle’s back with a satisfied tone. Glancing back, Skyle spotted another figure wearing the same dark armor, though this one had four great horns curling above a face that seemed the stuff of nightmares. “You shall be properly rewarded. Put him in the cages with the other sacrifices.”

“Yes, my Lord Vissus!” Mercius acknowledged with fervor, saluting an upraised claw and marching towards the left while holding Skyle aloft with the other . Over the vile creature’s shoulder, Skyle could see another dismaying sight in the distance. There were dozens of metal cages, each filled to the brim with naked figures of men and women huddling in small groups.

“By the Abyss, they’re all caged and naked, with guards all around them!” A block of ice fell on his heart as he realized he would soon be joining that pitiful group of captives, and he would be powerless to resist. Briefly, the idea of joining the group and attempting to escape later flitted through his mind, but the cold gaze of the guards around the cages, as well as this army’s blood-thirsty aura and the mention of “sacrifices” quickly drove that option from Skyle’s mind. Besides, the usually calm and methodical youth was truly angry now.

“Power in my blood?” Skyle hissed within his mind, and that last comment only added insult to  injury. His whole life he’d suffered from being a cripple, and this monster had dragged him through the portal because they mistakenly thought Skyle had some great power in his blood? It was as though all the ridiculous events of the day, starting from the aborted wildefox hunt all the way down to having his precious heartwood bow shattered in one blow from the troll and his own life about to share a similar fate, they all surged in Skyle’s heart into a great, roaring furnace of anger and frustration at the unfairness of it all.

“Blast it all, then at least I will write my own ending!”

“Smell this!” Skyle shouted while drawing his dagger and bringing it down on the claw of the monster holding him as hard as he could.

The creature called Mercius flashed a wide, mocking grin while complacently eyeing Skyle’s attack, as though he could simply not be bothered to defend against this mere child’s strike.

*CRACKLE*

The smug smile instantly faltered when a brilliant azure glow surrounded the dagger as its edge struck the claw, but its momentum did not even slow down as it effortlessly pierced through the hard outer layer as though it were a hot knife cutting into butter. Hissing sounds emerged from a terrible wound that started to smoke as blood fountained from the neatly severed stump of Mercius’ arm.

“ARRGH!” Mercius screamed in agony as he clutched at his maimed arm, staring in shocked disbelief at the streams of dark crimson blood pouring forth from the ghastly wound. Skyle fell to the ground with the monster’s dark claw still clutching fiercely at his own arm, and couldn’t help but cry out in pain as he had managed to land on his broken leg. It instantly folded under him, but through the haze of pain Skyle managed to grit his teeth and turn the motion into a forward roll, which brought him into close quarters to the still moaning Mercius.

“You little shi-” Mercius screamed shrilly, finally moving his bloodshot eyes from the mutilated arm onto Skyle. The monster watched Skyle’s clumsy roll and took a faltering step back, his remaining hand reaching blindly towards the sword strapped at his side.

Too late, however, as Skyle used his good leg to propel himself forward while driving the dagger in his fist straight towards Mencius’ chest.

Monster and child crashed together in a blur of blood and flailing limbs, as Skyle’s reckless leap and Mencius’ own desperate attempt to avoid the attack drove them both hard to the ground in a tangled mess. Skyle could only feel a white hot bite of more pain screaming in his mind, but a hot rush of blood covered his face as he convulsively seesawed his dagger back and forth in a blind rush of rage. He could feel some slight feedback from the blade as it met some resistance and a muffled, breathless grunt reached his ears every time this happened. However, Skyle would simply grit his teeth and ferociously plunge the edge even deeper still, twisting it with even more vigor, issuing even more grunts from above his ears.

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This continued for several more moments, during which Skyle continued his frenzied, desperate assault. Soon, all the sound he could hear was the ragged gasping from his own throat as a hot, sticky liquid covered all of his face and completely blinded him, and a massive dead weight slowly fell forward to blanket over him, pinning him to the ground.

Skyle instictively shouted in protest and fear as he pushed away at the foreign mass, but try as he might he could barely make it budge. All the while, it felt as though he were drowning under an ocean of the viscous, warm liquid bathing every single inch of him.

Skyle couldn’t hold out any longer and desperately took in a greedy mouthful of air, which was immediately choked as a rush of hot liquid rushed into his throat. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, making his guts convulse in revulsion as he gagged, then began to cough convulsively, all the while his vision began to swim with stars as he grew light-headed from the lack of air.

Just as his consciousness began to grow dimmer, Skyle could feel the massive weight being lifted from over him, and through his tightly squeezed eyelids he could feel the shadow that had been blanketing him being drawn back. Then, he sensed movement near him, and Skyle howled in desperation and fear as he flashed his dagger in an arc above him, all the while his mouth drew desperate mouthfuls of air while trying to spit out the blood he had sucked in earlier.

“You crazy little beast!” a raspy voice cried out in his ear, and Skyle finally managed to wipe enough blood off his eyes that he could try to open them, only to glimpse a shadow swiftly approaching from a corner of his vision.

Stars exploded in his eyes as a ruthless blow struck him in the ribs and Skyle could distinctly hear bones cracking as several ribs broke and he was violently flung into the air from the impact. Skyle wanted to blindly swing his dagger in the direction of his attacker, but it was all he could do to hold on to his weapon as he flipped end over end in the air and crashed into the ground, tumbling painfully a few times before coming to a halt, having left a trail of blood in the ground.

“Hot damn..”

“That’s one fierce little demon..”

“Help Mencius, he’s-”

“He’s gone. Little beast gutted him like a fish..”

Skyle could catch some of the words from around him, but he couldn’t even feel the pain from his broken ribs, at least not just yet, let alone even feel his own limbs in order to get up or attempt to retaliate in any shape or form.

It was all he could do to simply try to draw one more breath. His lungs convulsed within his chest and his pale lips trembled uncontrollably, but inhaling that first great mouthful of air seemed impossible at the moment.

“Breathe,” Skyle snarled in his mind. “Breathe, you useless trash of a body. Breathe, you stupid lump of meat. Breathe, at least obey me this once so I can at least take out one more of them before I die.”

Skyle felt hot tears silently roll down his cheeks, and he was not sure if they were from his own fear at the fact that his young life would end at the hands of these monsters when he had only seen 12 years; or perhaps they were anger, at this body that had endlessly frustrated him and worked against him, turning him into a useless, pathetic cripple, betraying him even now at this final moment; or perhaps they were sorrow, at the fact that he would never see his loving family again. His father would rage and rampage, while his mother would weep disconsolately, and his younger siblings would never forgive him for leaving them behind. And Ash, he would be all alone again.

“Breathe. It is the least you can do, after a lifetime of disappointments,” Skyle begged, and his little fist shook as he slowly lifted the knife held in his grip. Its tip trembled uncontrollably, as though it couldn’t decide who its next target would be. “Breathe, burn you!”

And suddenly, he did. His lips twitched convulsively as his lungs finally expanded, drawing in a great, endless breath that surged into his mouth, coiled down his throat and exploded in his chest with a sweetness greater than any he had known. Colors instantly exploded across his vision as Skyle opened his eyes and found the world around him had been banished and been instantly reborn.

The dark skies above were suddenly filled with a myriad different hues, flashing from one mesmerizing shade to the next, from snow white to bright crimson to sky blue to emerald green, all in the blink of an eye. Swirling across this grand spectacle of lights, brilliant veins of light shimmered and pulsed with energy, covering the entire firmament.

Skyle stared at the unbelievable sight above, his imminent danger momentarily forgotten, when an intense, melodious voice entered his ears.

“Draw back! I shall handle him myself,” the voice stated solemnly.

“By your command, Lord Vissus.”

“Vicious little beast, for your bravery you shall have the honor of being the first sacrifice to christen the ritual.”

Skyle looked down in the direction of the voice, still in a daze, and he stared blankly at the figure calmly approaching him.

The dark armor now shone dimly with countless symbols glowing faintly with a multitude of colors, swirling and subtly shifting around as they seemed to flow endlessly across its surface. Vissus himself had undergone an even greater transformation, as underneath an elegant helmet that bore the likeness of four golden birds taking flight in different directions, Skyle could see the smooth, refined features of a handsome man with piercing green eyes watching him intently with renewed interest.

“Hmm. It seems you have somehow managed to gain the true sight,” Vissus murmured while tilting his head to one side. “I see none of the disgust or horror etched in the faces of the other sacrifices. You behold the true shape of all matters, which is the gift of the chosen. Most peculiar, and rather fascinating. How would you, a base mortal beast from a lower plane, gain the true sight upon merely stepping foot into the Blessed Realm? Ah, under other circumstances, my curiosity might extend your life for a while longer.”

Vissus furrowed his brow, then shook his head minutely. “No, we have nearly reached the appointed time and the ritual must take place. You, oh child of the true sight, shall be the first to behold the glory of the Blessed Realm as you give your lifeforce to water its advent.”

Skyle only continued to stare straight ahead in a daze, the rest of Vissus’ words completely lost to him.

He could see it. Skyle could finally see the power of the elements, and it was glorious. This was more than he had ever dreamed of, when he had been told of the spirit vision, the sight that was the very first step and allowed an individual to draw upon the might of the elements.

Whereas before Skyle could only see a blur of different colors flash across his vision for a mere instant before the whole sight fragmented painfully in his mind, he could now only stare in wonder at the vivid veins of raw elemental power flowing endlessly through every object before him. They had ceased to be simple items, rocks or metal or people. Instead, they pulsed with different colors that were exquisitely interwoven together in a dazzling tapestry, all the elements being fused together to form each object as though it were an impossibly complex combination of countless notes resulting in one final breathtaking song.

It was as though the world were a poem, and Skyle could finally read its words.

And just beyond, Skyle could feel the distant rumbling of a great power echoing the power of this majestic song from inside his own veins.

It felt as though Skyle merely had to effortlessly summon it forth.

All he had to do was sing.