THEY passed the bridge and made quickly to the clearing. The surroundings had become dark, and the rain was still running. The ground became wet, and the firm soil now loose made their feet lose grip. The golden light was gone, and the silver light vanished. And it was all so dull and dead.
They marched through the woods where still held the lingering smell of burnt wood. The smoke still lifted upon seared portions of the bark. There was no more rustle in the trees and their whispers were silenced.
It was not long before the scent of their adversaries was caught by Nakthaḥm, Vrihkhaḥ, and the animal men. They quickened their pace following it down. The land gradually lowered, and the darkness seemed to envelop them. With neither the light of the forest nor the night sky and the absence of any glowing mushrooms about them, all became dark in view. Those who could not see so well now had no choice but to rely on those that could. They stood close by to Nakthaḥm, Vrihkhaḥ, Bahṛigfar, and Zvarañt.
Feyūnhaḥ listened to the sounds around them, those at least that still remained, to ascertain their location. She could hear the small streams flowing around them, small animals scurrying in the bushes, and the footsteps of their company. But nothing else of interest came to her.
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Now having passed five leagues, they came to a large mound, and when they climbed atop they could see a mile away, the grand ship of the Mrigūhvha. Standing high and large, it looked like a temple with wings, not all different from the Drasūvayeznd, with its long bow peaked upward and its hull resting atop the tall trees.
Then there was a rustle in those trees. The rustle became louder. Whomever was there quickly gained speed toward them.
“Run!” shouted Nakthaḥm.
He grabbed onto Aiṛth and Dhīṇahi and they along with the others leaped from atop the mound back into the forest. And just as soon as they had landed, the mound burst, with dirt and dust flying high into the air. Nakthaḥm looked around himself and saw Zvarañt was not beside them. He could hear clashing from not too far, and when the dust had settled, the group could see the bear-king engaged with the three Demons.
Their forms were grotesque, even more so than Nakthaḥm’s demonic form: with several eyes, four arms knotted and gnarled and much larger than the rest of their body; their teeth sharp, but four of them longer than the others that rested upon the lip-less faces, and the smell of rotting flesh and blood effused from their blackened bodies.
Zvarañt did not seem to have any trouble engaging them, and though the movements of the enemies was fast, they could not overpower the bear-king who deflected all their attacks with ease. His defense was absolute with the Demons unable to break through the swings of his mace.
But Nakthaḥm grew tense and his face contorted in anger. He rushed into the fray and then suddenly fighting altogether stopped. The Demons stood toward the back and looked at Nakthaḥm with a curious look. Their eyes grew wide and they began to cackle. Approaching Nakthaḥm, their forms seemed to grow, and by the time they stood in front of him, they were twice his size and salivating from their mouths.
The bear-king then called: “Why do you turn your backs to me, wretched Yavhaḥṃār! Come, face me! So I may smash those wicked skulls and be avenged of my fallen soldiers!”
Zvarañt ran toward them and Nakthaḥm called, “Stand back you fool!”
His warning ran late; the Demons composure had altogether changed and one of them swung themselves back and, with their claws swiped away at the bear-king. Zvarañt was sent flying back, felling many trees in the arc of his flight and rending the earth upon his landing.
The others could stand back no longer and they too rushed forth, but Nakthaḥm spread the aether about himself and looked back with a fierce face:
Stand back you fools!
His voice echoed in their minds and their pursuit stopped. The Demons cackled and they looked over Nakthaḥm, sniffing and inspecting him. And when they were sure of whom it was they were dealing with, they said:
The Malkuvaršarrim has now come: to stand before us to be devoured. And we see that he too is shackled, in both limbs and heart so as to be no trouble to us. A fool you must be to come hither, when you had cast aside your kin, to take to our enemies. Not even the Lord Daryurhaḥ can now protect you: but first we should like to beat you, and then rend, before filling our bellies with your torn flesh. Ah! Your form looks exquisite as it does delicious, but even should you take to your original, even then would the same fate befall you. So we say accept it: enter in, and become one with us, and thus shall no power stand in our way! Only then we should say: ‘All shall be forgiven.’
“No! You can’t eat Nakthaḥm!” shouted Tūmbṃār from behind.
He bore his sword and the Dvı̄sahlvah gleamed under the moonlight. Fire spread along its length and the heat waxed great, enough for the surroundings to become warm and make the air sizzle. But Nakthaḥm turned behind, and his face was one filled with terror. The Demons tossed Nakthaḥm aside and made their way toward the group.
Ah! we had forgotten that you had brought allies with you. Yea! we shall devour them first and no more we shall be interrupted.
The claws upon the Demons’ hands grew long, and they walked with heavy footsteps, as their saliva drenched from their mouth in torrents and steamed the grass and soil beneath. Then their mouths opened wide and they ran in full sprint toward them.
The group bore their weapons and pushed Aiṛth and Dhīṇahi to the rear. Dhīṇahi however resisted running for safety and she came free of Aiṛth’s grasp.
“Come back child!” Aiṛth shouted, as she made after Dhīṇahi.
The girl ran in between Tūmbṃār and his enemies and she held her arms forward. Her eyes burned black and flames as dark as the abyss coursed the length of her arms. And a mass of dark terror grew fast in the middle: her chains had broken, and both Tūmbṃār and Iḷēhaḥ felt a sharp pain strike their heads. Dhīṇahi then unleashed the aether, and it consumed the Demons. The rush of the element sent them flying far, as far as the Demons’ attack had sent Zvarañt.
They were relieved, but even more so were glad as can be that the girl could now control her powers. Dhīṇahi, however, could no more move and she fell face flat. Aiṛth ran to her and saw that she was writhing in pain. They had drawn conclusions too soon.
“Nakthaḥm!” called Sanyhaḥmān. “What are we to do now?”
He did not respond and instead looked through the line of fallen trees. He turned his face toward Tūmbṃār and gave a serious look. His eyes turned down, toward his hands and then to his feet.
Tūmbṃār then understood what he meant. But he hesitated. He knew Nakthaḥm was himself, and that the draught of blood he consumed should have been enough to keep him as such, but if he were to get injured in that state, what then? Would he then turn on them and try to devour them once more?
As such thoughts raged in his mind, the ground shook and there was a great bellow from with the thicket. The Demons had disappeared, but their presence was still about, hiding. As the moments passed, they could feel their skin prickle, and their hair stand on end from fright. They slowly moved from the edge of the clearing toward Nakthaḥm, now knowing there was no where to run. Hisses came in all directions, and not even Vrihkhaḥ could make out from where they were coming.
Zvarañt then awoke and shook his head. He lifted himself from the falling branches to make back toward the others. But there was a darkness that covered his sight, that not even his eyes could penetrate. An illusion was cast before him and all was pitch black. He let go of his sight to hear and he could make out faint whispers and hisses. A voice became audible from afar calling to him and he hastened toward it.
“We are here, Zvarañt!” shouted Bahṛigfar.
The bear-king made with speed toward them, stumbling across the stumps and fallen branches. And when he had come to the clearing, the sound all about them deadened. All was now silent. A rotten smell lingered and it overpowered their smell. And like a poison, it made them nauseous, and numbed their touch. They could barely feel the clothes upon their person or the weapons in their hand.
Suddenly, a loud shriek came and they fell to the ground, clutching their ears. Vrihkhaḥ fell down unconscious, but Feyūnhaḥ held firm. Her sense of hearing had already been numbed both conscious and unconsciously, but the sharp pitch of the shriek could still be felt in her body. They cried but could not hear; nor could they even feel the vibration of their own voices. Yet, there was something amiss, for while the shriek had resounded and many moments had passed, they were not attacked.
They turned behind themselves and saw Nakthaḥm holding his own against his kin. And Zvarañt not too far attempting to enter the fray but his movements having become rather dull. The Demons glided with their claws, lunging, slashing, and tearing away at Nakthaḥm’s clothes. At times they would stretch their heads to bite into him but with grace he would evade them. And it seemed while this was occurring, Nakthaḥm bided his time, slowly amassing the aether in his body.
The Demons noticed this, and their attacks sped, and they tried to fell Nakthaḥm as quickly as they could. They began to grow more and more afraid and their motions became frantic.
Nakthaḥm’s teeth and nails began to change. But the form seemed stumped as if unable to progress to its final form.
Nakthaḥm turned his glance toward Tūmbṃār, as the Demons’ assailment became relentless. Those eyes of graven ardor, that seemed to yearn and call for something so deeply. The demon, his friend, wished to fight and he called to his jailer to give him that wish. And Tūmbṃār feeling the intensity of the battle through him, let fall his hands from his ears and held his left arm toward Nakthaḥm. And holding his index and middle fingers together, his hands shook. He closed his eyes and made a simple flick. He felt something break, just as it had that one time before.
The aether unleashed from Nakthaḥm and he became as like a black inferno!
The Demons halted their advance, and leaped away in fright, quivering.
His power has come again! We must leave, we must run! Hurry, we must make haste before he devours us!
Running past the group, they sought escape by the thicket, but their path was blocked. With a flash, the darkness erupted in front of them, and the Ranger of the Night had taken to its form. The mass of gnarled armor, great horns, and sharp teeth looked to its lesser kin with great disgust and fury. Its hands rose and the Demons shook upon its display of terror. A black liquid lined its fingers and with its index finger held forward they dripped from it and became as needles. And with a flick of its finger, the needles flew and in an instant pierced the adversaries throughout their body and lifted them high into the air. They squirmed in their restraints and pleaded:
Forgive us Malkuvaršarrim! We shall leave you and this forest! Spare us, your kin: we shall put good words to your brother; do not do this and let us be devoured. Your brother will surely come for your head and will not stop at your death!
It smiled and said:
Has he not already, O foolish Yavhaḥṃār? Think not I shall let you go free. I know what it is you would do, and I shall not be party to it! Your lives will not be spared, but I shall give you quick release if you can relate to my satisfaction, what business you had up here. Well? What shall it be?
Three great hands wrought of the aether, flew from the demon and grabbed onto the heads of its afeared kin:
Or shall I slowly press against those skulls, until your eyes have popped from your heads and the blood has drenched into your mouths? Shall I continue so slowly that you can feel the bones and the organs within your being pressed out from its confines to spill upon your person? And shall I go even further to twist and rend your body, wringing it like a towel, till your entire form has become crushed and contorted beyond recognition! Speak you Wretches of the Night!
They then squealed and their threatening aura had now wholly dissipated:
We shall speak! We shall speak! Spare us your kin! Your brother had relayed to us your whereabouts, and tasked us with dispensing away with you, and we had obliged him of that request for much could be gained of it, knowing then how weak you had already become. But we could not penetrate the wall to this realm, on account of the Celestials and their array of gallant warriors ever guarding the space between the realms and felling countless numbers of our kin.
Yet opportunity presented itself, when those seeking power summoned an Abomination here, and we had taken secret flight through the gate hither. We concealed our form and made quickly to the heart of the forest, where dwelt the Mrigūhvha. And we terrorized them greatly, for we dearly wished for the meat of our brothers. And it was then that we chanced upon a village of Mānuzhhaḥn not too far from where the ship rested and destroyed them all. Every last man, woman, and child we devoured and dispensed with them as flaming refuse onto the City of the Mrigūhvha.
And when all was done, we bided our time waiting for you, so that we could acquire great power by consuming all that was you. Alas! that it should come to this for us. We were warned to not underestimate and yet all the same we had, and now we should pay the price.
But we beseech you O Great Kin of ours, spare us! We had only desired to do as your brother had asked of us: for a traitor you were! And still you will be as such, if you shall not give us this chance to leave! Let us go free, and we swear upon our lives, nay the Highest! that we shall beseech your brother for pardon.
They then wailed and shrieked, but it was now like a man’s: the echo of their voices had completely dulled and no more did the persistent ringing and dreadful noise assail the minds and hearts of the demon’s friends. The group broke from their daze and looked to the demons in the air. And then they looked to Nakthaḥm and shuddered upon his words:
Is that all you have to tell me? I know your disposition and inclinations, but harken! hear to these words: I care not a single bit for the affection or pardon of that worthless brother of mine; he who would cast aside the very words of our admirable father and become as another shadow that would bring us deeper into the depths of Akhāryaḥ! Let him rally his forces and set forth on his miserable quest, for his aim shall not be had!
I tell you now, the Light of That One has returned and even if I and all my comrades were to perish, if he so must, he will descend into the Lower Realms and wreak such chaos as to make even Lord Daryurhaḥ shudder in fear! Above and below will all of you be hunted to the end of your days, for never is there a place where the Light does not tread. He knows within the very hearts of all the Ṃārhaḥn, their state and their intent, and not even that God of the South, who fell to our words and became like a plague on the Earth, could escape his might! O Foolish brothers, perish now: this end shall be your blessing.
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The Demons became silent, but Nakthaḥm could feel through the hands of aether their terror greater than anything they had ever felt before. Never could the Yavhaḥṃār stand that light: not from the Dehaḥṃār and Daivhaḥhō, nor from even the Heavens itself of which they so dearly wished to return. And should ever that be the case and they wrest control over it, a great darkness would cover it, unlike anything that could be beheld, and Ārhmanhaḥ, nay, the entirety of the universe would cease to be.
But it would not happen this time.
Nakthaḥm began as if with great tension, to curl in his fingers, and the demons within his grasp began to shake uncontrollably and violently. They squirmed within their place and mustered all their might to free themselves, but to no avail. Whatever disgust or anger that Nakthaḥm held had turned into a wicked form of elation, for his mouth had upturned into a smile and he became as a menacing figure, not unlike when he masqueraded as the enemy. But now it looked true, and his friends looked to him with terror in their eyes.
“We cannot let him do this,” said Iḷēhaḥ, now looking around herself frantically, “is there not a thing we have to bring him back to his senses?”
“Can’t you bind him down with your chains?” said Sanyhaḥmān who shook his head a bit. “I’d think that would be enough to stop his rampage—though, even if I wouldn’t like it, it might be better to have him kill them.”
“No!” shouted Iḷēhaḥ. “We cannot let these demons die, at least not like this. Letting Nakthaḥm revel in this madness would be worse for us all. How I wish I could push him down or dispel that aether, but were I to do so—proving effective—we would end up as meals for those lesser kin of his!”
“We could fight against him,” said Feyūnhaḥ with a sad tone, “but I don’t think that would end very well for us. As we can all surely tell, his bloodlust seems to have taken hold of him.”
“Then I shall run to him and grab him by his legs!” shouted Aiṛth. “He should listen to me! He has not once forgotten my words and has always made amends. This shall be no different!”
“And I would say you are mad, priestess!” shouted Iḷēhaḥ in return who pulled Aiṛth back before she could make off. “Do you not see the aether that abounds in him; were it to as so much graze you, your life at that moment would be laid forfeit. Do not think yourself as strong as the Dehaḥṃār and Yavhaḥṃār or those blessed with the great ability of powers, for you are surely none of those!”
“Then what shall we do?” said Aiṛth. “Will you idly wait while this darkness consumes him!”
The maiden had no more ideas, and this vexed her greatly. Vrihkhaḥ was still unconscious and Zvarañt seemed incapacitated for the time. Then she noticed that Tūmbṃār was gone and when she looked behind she saw that he was making his way with Bahṛigfar toward Zvarañt. She pushed herself up but then stopped. She sat back down and waited.
“What’s the matter?” asked Sanyhaḥmān. “Shouldn’t you bring Tūmbṃār back here?”
“No, at least not for now,” she said mulling it over. “I am sure he has a plan of sorts. While I wish he could have spoken to us, given that oath of his, that would not have been likely. For the meanwhile I suggest we approach Nakthaḥm, and distract him. It should bring enough time for whatever Tūmbṃār has planned. What say you all?”
No objections were raised and they bore their weapons making their way slowly to their maddened friend.
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“Have you lost your wits, Tūmbṃār!” said Bahṛigfar in a state of shock. “You mean to have Zvarañt attack him, and then you just stand in the front talking to him? A more insane plan I have not heard. You would surely die!”
“But it’s worked before,” said Tūmbṃār, “and I know him to have some little bit of sense inside. I brought him back to his senses one time before: he’ll listen to me!”
“But that would have had to have been long before,” said Bahṛigfar: “did you not fail once when he had to be chained to that wooden board? No, I cannot abide this! You cannot convince me otherwise. We shall have to fight him, before he turns on us for even with his devotion to the Light, his madness has greatly twisted his actions! I do not think we can save him this time.”
Zvarañt began to stir from his knelt position, and then he suddenly shook his head and gave a great roar. “Where are those Demons?” he cried.
He looked above to see his enemies slowly being crushed and wailing under the hold of the aetheric hands. His gaze moved over toward Nakthaḥm, who seemed to be conversing with the others, but with a great malice set about him, that even the bear-king could feel from his position.
He then saw the boy and prince beside him and said, “What has happened here, and what has become of our friend?”
Tūmbṃār relayed all that occurred while the prince silently listened, still adamant in heart against the resolution to which Tūmbṃār steeled himself.
Zvarañt understood the boy’s intentions, and to the prince’s surprise, he said, “I do not much like the Yavhaḥṃār, in fact I very much detest him, but I must say in the short time I have known your friend, he has grown upon me, and I would much like it were he not to fall now. Nay, it is not a matter of my likes, for the Light has allowed him to live and given his blessings to him once more. Not even Sītṛa had done as such in his time even as empowered as he was by the Light. I shall be your sword, Tūmbṃār. Tell me what must be done.”
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The others had encircled Nakthaḥm, keeping a safe distance from the wall of the aether that wriggled with its black tendrils. Their words seemed to have little effect on their friend for its hold over its lesser kin did not loosen and if anything seemed to wax greater. Its hand continued to curl and the wailing of the demons grew louder and more terrible.
“Listen to us, Nakthaḥm!” pleaded Aiṛth. “Spare these wretched kin of yours! Do not fell them in such malice for not even the Light you so dearly cling to will avail you from it. Must I grab onto your legs and wail to you once more as I had in the palace? Is there truly no other way we can stop this?”
“Listen to her, Nakthaḥm!” shouted Sanyhaḥmān. “These actions won’t bring any good! I tell you, that while this may be of your nature, this isn’t what should be done: this indeed is the very epitome of the Akhāryaḥ that you so deride. Had you not related this to me many times before? How then can you go against those words, dispensed to the best of your friends?”
Nakthaḥm laughed and not a moment after, cackled, not unlike what their adversaries had done before:
Nay! These ‘demons’ shall die, and I shall not give them quick release. Enough blood has been spilled on their account! Let their dues be paid here and now as I preside as their executioner. Sanyhaḥmān: this be righteousness ten-fold, and I would not hesitate to act as such later. And you Aiṛth: grab onto my legs if you will, I will even suspend this wall that surrounds me, but I should think you would be disgusted by just being near this detestable form. No words that you shall thereafter speak will reach me! Your ferventness is best spent on those miserable Dehaḥṃār who reign from their lofty thrones. If they come and ask of it, perhaps I shall show reprieve, but not before! I know what it is these ‘demons’ would do and I will not let them be party to it! They shall die here and now: that is the truth!
“And what of the boy and your words to him,” said Feyūnhaḥ, “will you let those be in vain? Would you let this form consume you as it almost did in the palace of Trdsyḷūr? To fell these wretched folk, as you would the mad king, in your current state, will bring you only further into the depths of your own malice: farther from the Light, farther from us, and farther from Tūmbṃār.”
And Nakthaḥm became silent.
Iḷēhaḥ then said, “I have ever spoken ill of your kind: but show me now Nakthaḥm, that you are better than them! Release your hold upon these lesser kin and let their demise be dispensed by the regents of this land! Your duty: Your Khāryaḥ is not to this, but to us; those miserable Dehaḥṃār are the ones that sent us on this quest is it not? Let the hate and malice go and bind your lesser kin as you should. Fell them not, exit your form, and let us go back as companions.”
Then as like a raging fire, Nakthaḥm’s eyes gleamed with vigor and his mouth turned from its grin to a scowl. It began to shake and the aether became erratic. The wall between it and the group grew and spread wide. But then Iḷēhaḥ dispelled the wall and the aether surrounding the demon vanished.
She cried: “Listen to us Nakthaḥm! Listen! We know that deep down, that you having to fight against your kin has ever been unreasonable: but it should not mean,that you must now revel in it! Do not take pride in any dispensation and let this go; you have done enough.”
Nay! Nay! NAY! I will not: I should not: I cannot let this go! Let their dues be paid now and let them not have to suffer the terror of the Light! Let them be snuffed by my will and let they, the Ārhmaht, go where they will. No more should they suffer: no more should I suffer!
Its hand continued in its curling and the demons now seemed upon the edge of death. And the others now seeing no choice left, rushed to engage their fallen friend but lo! they stopped in their movement for Nakthaḥm was pierced from behind!
The bear-king’s arm tore through the gnarled armor and his arm appeared on the other end. It did not seem that Nakthaḥm took much notice of this, but its curling did stop. Yet even more to their surprise, was that Tūmbṃār stood in front with hands spread to either end.
He let his short sword fall to the ground and said: “Stop this! Listen to me, we don’t wish for anymore suffering: not from us, not from the Demons, nor from you. Didn’t Lūshhaḥ appear to you? Didn’t you see him when we had fought against each other? Where’s the trickster that I know gone? Where’s the man who cared for me and my wishes and my troubles gone? Where’s the friend who’s ever stayed by my side and listened to every word I said gone?
“You told me you had a mission, one even before the Gods tasked us. Is this what your Gruvhō would’ve wanted? For you to fall slave to your ego once more, when the entire point was to go beyond it! I know too little in the way of these things, but Vādruhaḥ told me that one cannot seek truth nor righteousness without surrendering it! and isn’t what you’re doing now the exact opposite?
“There’s no righteousness, no Khāryaḥ to be found here, no release from suffering, and no light at its end. Though I still may be incompetent, and still much a child, lay your troubles and grief upon me! I will listen, I will share in your suffering! You don’t need to bear this alone. I, no, all of us are your friends, and no more do we wish to see this. Let it go Nakthaḥm, let it go. Trust in the Light; trust in me, whom the Light approached: lay all your gratitude unto him and be free from this madness.
“If you still wish these kin of yours to die, then let them fall by my hands: let them fight for their lives and be slain by me. And if you aren’t satisfied with that, then let us fight: as we did on that night by the beach. Let your wrath be directed to me and let it be ended here and now!”
The arm lodged within Nakthaḥm moved out as he breathed deeply. His mind was now calmed, and the hole in the center of his chest healed itself. The arms of aether then moved down with the movement of Nakthaḥm’s arm. And the needles that were held to the demons were expunged. At last did the aether dissipate and Nakthaḥm’s form exited, leaving him as he once was. His face turned to Tūmbṃār and a melancholy expression was held on it.
Then he turned to the Demons and said: “Begone from here you wretches! Assail this place no more, for if you do, then I will bring terrors upon you greater than what was wrought here! Being devoured would be the least of your fears.”
They shook with fright; but they did not scurry away. They stood still at their spots, kneeling with labored breathing. And then two of them lunged forward toward Tūmbṃār:
Let this child be devoured by us! Let the pain accompanying this loss torment you all!
Their sharp teeth and large gaping mouths bit in, but not into what they had expected. Nakthaḥm had appeared in front of Tūmbṃār with his arms spread in the same manner as the boy’s. And he looked down with sadness at the Demons and said, “Let this be done.”
The heads of the demons flew off from their now lifeless bodies and dissolved upon the ground, leaving behind their shattered bones.
“Friends!” Nakthaḥm said. “We shall have our fight together once more, but not today! My gratitude in delivering your words to me. Better companions, I could not have asked.”
He turned to Tūmbṃār and knelt to him with his arms raised to his head. The boy blinked and then walked away. Nakthaḥm smiled. One part was now freed. But then, having realized, Nakthaḥm turned his head quickly behind, and saw that the remaining demon was not there.
He had run past the others and was now at the edge of the clearing. The lone adversary raised his arms to the air and shouted:
Brothers you shall be avenged! Let all here behold the true terror of the Yavhaḥṃār!
A black mass of the aether emerged from the lone demon’s hand and covered the entire clearing. The trees began to burn at their base and shook violently as if in pain. And all the others huddled together for they full well knew what was to come.
From out of the black mass arose ghastly beings of the night, their skin fully grayed, eyes as deep red as the Demons, and their forms grotesque to behold and yet all too similar to that of the Mānuzhhaḥn. Their variegated stature was something to behold, as some stood as small as children while others stood as tall as giants and they like a mass of frenzied animals, roared and shrieked and burned the ears of all who could hear.
When the last of them had been summoned the lone one said:
Perhaps we shall meet again, assailers of the night! But I do not think it should come to pass, for even the Yavhaḥṃār who stands with you, will suffer greatly in combating this horde. Indeed you all shall die tonight! My power is spent, but for now no more need do I have of it. And so farewell! May the Hells prove miserable for you all!
And he vanished into the woods and his presence was gone. The horde had surrounded them, and little distance was there between. Eyes brimming with fervor and lust, the undead opened their wide mouths, and let out groans heated by their foul breath. Their nails on their hands grew long and it seemed that their skin dissolved by the force of the aether. But no pain came by them, and they slowly marched forward to devour those they saw in their sights.
The group bore their weapons and waited for opportunity to present itself, but then, Zvarañt issued a loud cry and said: “We shall not be slain here, much less devoured! Let these hellish beasts come our way, for I shall bring greater terror to them that would even make the Demons cower! Bear your weapons strong friends, for the night shall be long! Prince, follow their lead and make proud your father and mother; avenge the fallen, and the let fire of the Immortal King blaze forth within you!”
“Yea, shall it be!” shouted Bahṛigfar, holding high his silver blade.
Zvarañt now fired with ire, tensed and exuded his muscles and they enlarged enough so as to make his stature twice his normal size. And like a ravenous bear, his eyes filled with wrath, he leaped into the mass of the horde and began tearing them to shreds with his teeth and claws. The multitude fell by the hundreds!
Iḷēhaḥ cried: “Let us end this now! Unleash the powers as much as can be had, and run into the fray! Tonight we fight in full fellowship!”
And all that could fight cried to her words, and thereon issued a devastating wave of the powers that brought cataclysms in abundance and made it seem the world was to end at that moment. The gusts became like raging tornadoes of the tempest, the rushing waters like grand deluges, the blaze of fire like the inferno of the sun, the streaks of lightning like burning white arcs of the Natjhṛsa, the erupting earth like the piercing crags of the world, and the washing aether like the blackest abyss of space. All spread toward the edges of the clearing and consumed all but friend in their path.
The towering giants fell in a smoldering heap as the grunts tore asunder at the brunt of the elements. When the powers waned and the effects of the elements lifted, a great many of the horde was felled, reduced to either rubble or ash. But still many remained and the group thereon could feel the effects of their attack weaken them. Yet they would not fall to this, and when the goddess issued her war-cry they ran into the deeps of the horde and cut and slashed and smashed and lunged and parried their way through as much as they could.
The fighting continued incessantly as the undead gathered their might and rebelled in a frenzy. Their movements now erratic and hastened, and thus their actions nigh indiscernible.
Bahṛigfar, Tūmbṃār, Zvarañt, and Nakthaḥm were the only ones able to keep up with their foes. The others could barely follow the actions with their eyes, and did all they could to keep up their defense as they were assailed from all sides. The bear-king’s attack now slowed and the rate of his kill dropped as the time passed. And even the prince and the boy could scarce keep up while defending.
Nakthaḥm alone seemed unmarred in form, but this was only an illusion, for inside he could feel the pain of the powers and the hunger of his body wax ever greater than they did before. But he could now bear it even as it assailed and weakened him; no more would he fall to wantonness. He mustered his strength to grab the swift of the horde, and tore them down piece by piece and limb by limb.
The undead slowed in their movements, and their bodies now marred enough whereby they could not by force of will move their limbs, gave the chance the group sought. One by one, they swiftly dispatched away each of the ghastly beings, striking against their hearts, smashing and lopping off their heads, and tearing away their limbs.
As if taken by fear, the horde tried to rush to the trees, but it seemed the Forest had other plans for lo! the roots of the trees tore through the soil and impaled all that came their way and fell shrieks from the woods resounded in might and made the undead cower.
And Vrihkhaḥ whose mouth was drenched with the black blood of the foe, enlarged in size and issued a great howl. The undead froze and with a sweeping bite the multitude of them was severed from waist high and he thereafter pummeled the bodies into the black mass below as if to push them back whence they came.
Those remaining at the end, were then cut by the rest, and continued long so, until one alone remained. It salivated, and shook its head and dearly desired to tear away and devour them.
Bahṛigfar approached it and with nary a hesitation, held his blade high, cried, and plunged through the roof of the skull deep through its neck into the center most cavity of its being. The evil silenced, and when the black blood dripped through its mouth, the prince slowly slid out the blade and swung the blood off the silver.
The battle of the night was now over and the moon still shone brilliantly.
The blackness below dissipated and as it did so, the stars twinkled above. All then became normal, as the roots receded, the wolf came back to size, and the others collapsed for rest on the beaten earth.
The night of fights was now done.
THUS ENDS THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ṂĀRHAḤNYAHM