Novels2Search
The Shadow of Revenge
Chapter Two - The Wraith of Vengeance

Chapter Two - The Wraith of Vengeance

Momo's eyes stretched open. The embers of the night's fire breathing their last, sickly breaths. Momo wiped his red eyes dry, the tears from his and his sisters eyes washing over the dying embers like a river over a parched mountain face.

Momo sat up, gently patting his sister's head before getting up to look around and find a rock to sharpen the knife he had managed to take either him. His thoughts boiled with anger and grief. He thought only of the men who had killed his parents, their wicked smiles and cold faces, they would die for what they did to his family.

He walked out into the first light of dawn, walking toward a chicken that roamed the not scorched farm. He lunged at it with immense speed, before it could react, killing it quickly and sparing it the pain of the death it may have felt in the wild.

He returned to his sister who was awake, still sobbing to herself, baring witness to her parent's death's before she had had the chance to live a childhood. Momo placed the chicken down and looked at his sister, who writhed in pain. Momo felt overwhelming pity for her grief.

“Amirah, I know it's hard, but I… I don't know. All I know is, we have to stick together, I promise you that i'll protect you.” Momo reassured her.

Amirah hugged Momo, her tears staining his shirt as he gently patted her back and comforted her. He pushed her away again, going to gather wood for another fire.

As Momo chucked together a few small logs and prepared to depart back to his sister, a tall shadowy figure, devoid of light appeared before him.

Momo drew his knife instinctively, but the shadow remained unphased.

“Hello, Momo.” It spoke, its words like icicles in his spine.

Momo gasped, stumbling backward, becoming consumed in fear as he fell to ground, his eyes wide and his body beginning to shake.

“There is no reason to fear me Momo, I am not your enemy, i'd say i’m the opposite.” It continued, attempting to soothe him.

“W-w-what are you?” Momo asked, fear still gripping him like a hostage to its volatile power.

“Revenge.” The spirit spoke calmly. “Others have called me The Maleficent One, but I simply prefer Rancour.” He stated.

“So… I should call you?” Momo asked, still shaking in fear.

“Rancour shall do. Now, you're a spiteful young man aren't you? You want to have revenge, yes?” Rancour replied.

“Y-yes.” Momo affirmed.

“Good. Here's an idea, you want revenge, I want a vessel to bring fourth vengeance, you should create a bond with me.” Rancour suggested.

“A bond? You want me to become your friend or something?” Momo queried, the fear slightly lifting.

“Not exactly. A bond is a vow of a wraith to its host. Both create a contract that stipulates their shared responsibilities as they share the body of themselves, and the spirit that has enjoined them.” Rancour explained.

“How do we create a bond?” Momo questioned.

Rancour outstretched his hand.

“Let's make terms.” Rancour implored.

“What terms should there be?” Momo asked.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“We shall work toward each other's mutual benefit, and do what must be done, we'll balance our ideologies and work to bring justice to the world.” Rancour proposed.

“Alright. I accept these terms.” Momo answered.

The bond set, a small ice coloured veil setting around their wrists, as Rancour was pulled into the soul of Momo, both now inhabiting the body that tethered them to the world.

Rancour fashioned Momo armor, made of the strongest materials available, with relatively low weight, and extreme toughness, it was able to shield him from damage. Next, a blade of indestructible steel, engraving his symbol into the hilt as Momo grabbed it, staring at the beautifully crafted blade, with a slightly dark grey blade and a black hilt.

The path of revenge was crafted for Momo, engraved upon the blade of his spirit's creation.

“Fitting of a name, isn't it?” Racour asked.

“Nightfall.” Momo responded.

“Interesting. And this?” He asked, crafting a spectral bow, icy in colouration, its light bringing some brightness to the darkness that had enveloped them.

“Chimera.” Momo replied instinctively

“Your soul is answering. It seems the bond has allowed your soul and mine to work harmoniously.” Rancour observed.

Momo returned the spectral bow to Rancour and began training to use a sword. He was able to effortlessly move the sword to wherever he willed, with speed and power, however he lacked the skill and precision to best the best of warrior's. This would do, though.

“We will work well together Momo. Is there anything else you want to know about me?” Rancour asked.

“Who are you? Or what?” Momo cautiously questioned.

“Vengeance, justice and hatred, but that isn't what you want to know, no. I was a king once, a man with incredible power and status, I led armies many could only dream of leading at the time, I conquered thousands of miles of land and made my kingdom strong. But my greedy and power hungry court betrayed me, assassinating me and making me watch as they executed my family. I suppose that is what drew me to you, yes? Your parents were killed last night, so you share my pain.” He explained.

“Once I died, my bitter soul refused to pass on, so I did the only thing I could do, I merged myself with the three portions of myself that had clung to the mortal plane, vengeance, justice and hatred, however, I could not interact with the world, so for the past 300 years I have wandered this plane of existence, growing in my power as the world drew upon my three concepts more and more.” He explicated.

“I see. I suppose we do have a common interest.” Momo said, walking back toward his sister.

Momo returned the logs to his sister, sitting down as she observed his armor.

“Where did you get that, Momo?” Amirah curiously inquired, examining the cold beauty of the armor.

Starting a fire with his sword and the sharpening rock he had cultivated for his knife, which Rancour had perfected into a useful dagger, made of the same material as the sword.

“I found it ahead, perhaps a warrior fell after last night’s attack.” Momo replied. He hated lying to his sister, but he knew it was necessary, she could never know of the bond he had forged with Rancour.

He plucked the feathers off the chicken and set it above the fire, watching as it slowly cooked as he spun it in a slow motion, evenly searing it for he and his sister to eat.

“You don't need to eat, Momo. I can sustain us without most essentials.” Rancour mentioned.

“It would be weird for me not to eat all of a sudden, my sister is here.” Momo telepathically replied.

“Ah, yes. Fair enough. We should move soon, though, the sun is rising.” Rancour continued.

“And we will, let her eat, she doesn't have the luxuries you've afforded me.” Momo responded.

Momo watched his sister eat sombrely. A bitter-sweet feeling filling his body, knowing his path of revenge will be hard for her to understand, but knowing it will be his duty to eradicate the evil that infested many.

After his sister had finished eating, he extended a hand to her. She was still fascinated with the armor he adorned, it was light, but tough, and had a small cloak for stealth. She then began examining his sword as he hoisted her onto his shoulders, running at incredibly fast speeds to the nearest village, approximately eighteen miles north-east.

In just over twenty minutes, he had stopped at the gates of the village. The sun peaking in the sky, as he went on the search for water for his sister, he came across a small patrol of men, who signalled to him.

“Excuse me, sir.” The knight beckoned.

“Good day.” Momo replied, walking toward the three men cautiously.

“You aren't allowed weapons within village walls, sir. We'll be taking those, permanently.” He instructed.

“No.” Momo answered briskly.

The three drew their weapons as Momo gently put down Amirah, drawing his sword.

“I don't want to fight you.” Momo said, attempting to de-escalate the men.

“They're not good men Momo. We should deal with them, without killing them, they don't deserve that at least.” Rancour suggested.

“For being a pain in the ass, we'll have an arm.” The second knight jeered, bringing Momo's attention back to their faces.

Momo's expression dulled, he knew he would have to fight them.

Plunging his sword into the dirt, he created a slight dust storm to disorient the men, as he struck the first knight on the neck, knocking him out.

The other two recovered quickly, as Momo began duelling them both, blades clashing, as he exerted his speed over the two, staggering the second knight, as he swept him from the legs, opening him up to a punch that threw him into a small vendor's cart a few meters away, incapacitating him. The final knight ran away. As Momo sheathed his sword, going toward the vendor's cart he destroyed, throwing him a gold coin to pay for his damages.

He and Amirah walked through the streets again, finding a nearby inn and settling in a room for the rest of the afternoon and evening, as Amirah fell asleep when the sun had set. Momo climbed the roof, looking at the sun setting, feeling the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder. One day's passing felt like a lifetime, how could he live without them? He thought to himself. He quickly brushed the thought off, climbing back down into his room, knowing his duty to Amirah and his bond remained.