SDIV EL Juego Chapter 27 Part 2

Emerald Forest
Zone I

Sir Frederic led Burns and Llorente towards his home village. It was so much easier now with the portals collapsed; following a monster had led him into danger and the company of new friends and even stranger allies. What his father and the rest of his brother Knights would have to say about this was hard to predict, yet from Llorente’s comments Sir Frederic’s people had already been exposed to Mammon and his depravations, so they should be open to stories of demons walking the land.

Rain hammered down onto the forest canopy, soaking them intermittently as the thick leaves of the tree tops created crazy pathways for the water. It did not seem to be able to dampen Sir Frederic’s enthusiasm and he chattered away describing what they should expect to see.

Sir Frederic told them that forest opened out into a wide pasture in which a road snaked down towards the river and his father’s lands. Their family’s fortified mansion stood guard over a bridge, with travellers needing to pass through the mansion’s walls and archway in order to gain access to the village beyond. The walls continued around the village outskirts and were manned by regular patrols which safeguarded the dwellings within. It had always been enough to dissuade bandits or the occasional marauding monster.

“Once over this dip,” he commented to Burns, “we should clear the forest fully and you will have your first glimpse of safety, a warm bed and a hearty meal. Not, of course, necessarily in that order.”

Burns grinned at the excited Knight; once in familiar territory he shed the perpetual air of worry and became a more congenial companion. They could use a rest from the Taurans, Demons, Ambryn and whatever other nasties they had yet to meet. It would be the first time in a long time. He shrugged off the thought of Llorente’s comments about the land and its people and concentrated solely on the meal and warm bed. It was then he noticed the change in Sir Frederic.

The Knight had moved slightly ahead of them and was the first to crest the rise. It was not the most welcoming of sights nor did it fight exactly the description he had given them of his lands. The bridge still stood, yet the archway was shattered and the village walls breached in numerous positions. Burns’ trained eye recognised plasma blasts even from this distance. This had not just happened, although the changing wind brought the smell of burnt wood telling him that it was recent.

“Wait,” ordered Burns unslinging his rifle and stopping Sir Frederic’s threatened mad charge, “we do not know who is still around.”

Sir Frederic nodded, unslinging the auto-rifle he now carried, instead of his sword. He would wait, but not for long.

Burns pulled them back to cover and knelt, bringing the scope of his rifle to his eyes. He changed his position until he could get a good view of the village center, the breached walls making his efforts easier. The weapon’s magnification was more than enough to show him what had happened to the village and tell him who the recent visitors had been. Two large wheels supported on a robust and out of place metal structure took centre stage. Fastened to these wheels were the remains of two villagers with a haphazard pile of bodies below testament to the fact that these were only the last of a large number of sacrifices. Zooming in on the suspended corpses he saw bloody symbols cut into their naked chests and knew that the Taurans were the culprits.

“I am not sure whether you will want to see this,” he whispered to Sir Frederic who had joined him, and nodded towards the village, “it certainly is not the recommended way to remember them.”

“Yet I must go down,” said Sir Frederic, “even if it is only to give them a decent burial.”

The Knight stood, shouldering his rifle and now drawing his sword, “If I am really lucky, they may have left an ambush for me.”

Burns winced, yet rose to join his companion, Llorente in tow, “”Very well, but we’ll do this my way, no running off to die an honourable death. If it’s revenge you want, we know where we can find some Taurans, even if they are not the right ones.”

SDIV El Juego Chapter 27 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cursed Hills
Zone IV

One by one Alana’s men fell. They gave their lives dearly, yet the outcome was inevitable; Viker’s Angels had regrouped, pulling all of their mutated followers in line and body by body, they were gaining the upper hand.

“Alana, it appears our guests decided to bring reinforcements.”

Shin’s message was unwelcome, but not unexpected. Viker meant to have his revenge and he would not shy from the death toll necessary to achieve his ends. She killed her latest opponent and used her jets to jump back, clearing her personal space for just a moment. On her HUD, the newcomers were more than apparent. It seemed as though Viker had used his power liberally, creating more of his winged followers who now he threw into the fray. Well, she had not expected to survive this encounter only to sell her life the most expensively that she could.

“Regroup,” she transmitted, “fall back on me…”

Winged shapes plummeted downwards into the rear of the Angels, claws tearing and rending, shocking Alana into silence.

“The demons,” Shin said on an open channel, “are they here to help?”

“That I think is unlikely,” replied Alana, at last seeing a potential chance of survival.

“Retreat!” she called urgently. “This is our opportunity.”

“But..” began Shin.

“Move it!” snarled Alana, blood lust was one thing, but stupidity another.

Discipline kicked in and the survivors, the pitiful few left from her original men and Johns’ people, disengaged. It was easier than expected as the Angels turned to meet this new attack, bestial ferocity against cunning and numbers. The few too slow to ascertain where the new threat came from gave Alana’s people something to assuage their unspent rage upon, but soon enough they were free and clear to reform upon her position.

Alana gasped in shock as she counted heads. She knew there must be more, but Shin confirmed her worst fears as he struggled up the hill towards her.

“I am the last,” he said matter-of-factly, “where do we go now?”

“Away from here,” said Alana, “somewhere to lick our wounds and plan our escape.”

“What about Viker?” asked the exhausted man, “When do we deal with him?”

Alana winced at the harsh tone in Shin’s voice. Was it condemnation of her own action in retreating? Or was it just exhaustion, grief and excess of adrenalin? She shrugged off her self-pity. There was little use for it now.

“There will be another day,” she promised, surprised at the certainty in her own voice, “we have not finished with him yet.”

Four armoured suits ignited their jet packs, hovering momentarily before shooting away towards the forest in the distance. Ngulu watched them, but chose to ignore their escape for now. Spilt blood drew him to the fight  below and this promised to give him and his brethren a feasting to remember. It seemed as though the world and order in itself had returned to its rightful place, with him as its leader.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 26 Part 2

Flagship

Unknown Location

The Tower’s destruction surprised Shan for just a moment, before he too remembered the pain of Diadem. Why had he not seen it? Perhaps the lack of the Guardian, the surrounding city or the creature’s young had confused him. He thought not. Now the spire was shorn away and the shape beneath revealed he shuddered. His Master sent him to Diadem to retrieve the artefact hidden there, he had failed spawning another enemy, one pure of heart and of clean lines and majestic beauty. His screen lit with an incoming message he could no more refuse than follow a clean and healthy lifestyle.

It was his new Lord, whose face he gazed upon for the first time. What a glorious shade of black were his eyes, the torn and bloodied feathers added just the right amount of menace and the stained wings were priceless…

Shan blinked and stared again at Viker. Was it possible? Had corruption gone its own pretty way, infecting the pure and blessed with such filthy depravity. His Master had been such an insinuous one, maybe Shan’s prayers had been answered after all.

“I know you,” said Viker, staring back at Shan from the screen, “we have met before.”

“Oh, that we have Lord,” said Shan depreciatingly, “but you were somewhat different then. We weren’t exactly on speaking terms and I had to leave rather quickly.”

Viker’s eyes widened and then he began to cackle, “Oh, this is rich. You who infected me, who helped to create me are now mine.”

Shan bit back the comment he wished to say and merely bowed his head.

“No, false modesty Shan,” said Viker, his laughter mutating into viciousness, “we know each other too well for that. Bring yourself and what remains of your rotting henchmen down to me on this planet. We have work to do.”

“Lord,” pleaded Shan, “if we do that they could take the ship.”

“Stop your pretence,” barked Viker, “he who you fear is now half the man he was and no threat to you or my ship.”

Shan recognised the command for what it was and the possession of his ship. It would be better he obey, for now.

“And Shan,” crooned Viker, “remember how well I know you. Any thoughts of desertion, treachery, coercion or murder will only be tolerated when done in my name. Are we clear?”

“Yes, my Lord,” replied Shan, now laughing himself, “however, you cannot expect me to promise you to avoid all idle speculation.”

Viker’s cold smile was burned onto Shan’s brain, long after the image faded from his screen. The familiarity was not just that of a similar place, nor of old acquaintances, the scent of failure hung heavy in the air. Not something he relished experiencing again.

“You,” he snapped at his nearest remaining follower, “bring me a Portal Key.”

There was no question as to why, just blind obedience. That was preferable to more sentient servants. He needed to make a sacrifice or two, commune with his Master to beg forgiveness and do so all in secret if he was to stand a chance of surviving this. And all of this before he joined Viker. One quick side trip was easily arranged and the rest he would just have to improvise.

Link to SDII A Guiding Light

Just a quick comment on the latest post, either in case some of you readers are new or because it has been such a long time since you read A Guiding Light.

With Cornelius' return to common sense, or at least his own peculiar version of the notion, you also find the appearence of the tie-in between Viker's creation and the Tower on Diadem in Book II.

If you want to refresh your memories you can download a FREE copy of A Guiding Light from Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, Apple and Amazon in the US. For some reason Amazon UK do not offer it free anymore, but not to worry, most other sites do. If in doubt though, go to Smashwords and download from there.

There will be further tie-ins to come in Book V which I have already begun mapping out.

That though, is for later, Book IV still has a few more chapters yet.

Watch this space...

Cheers

Rayo

SDIV El Juego Chapter 26 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

Viker studied the Tower from distance and shuddered in remembrance. It was an exact copy of that on Diadem, where he had saved Marius, been reborn and pledged his undying friendship to Walters. He wondered whether deep beneath the Tower remained a waiting power source. There had been no sign of the winged guardian or her followers left to protect the Tower’s treasure on Diadem. He giggled insanely to himself; it had not worked there either.

What allegiance he had once owed or sworn to Walters and his kind were long gone. If there were any need for reminders, his reaction to Johns and Alana would surely underline them. There was something different about the spire though,  its top was open with petals of metal stretched wide. Anger flared briefly at the profanation of others to such a sacred place and then he laughed once more. After all, he meant to dismantle it stone by stone and rob that which was hopefully still inside.

Another stared long and hard at the Tower. Deep within his mind hung a small voice which called out the need to protect the structure. A pressure built within Cornelius’ fevered brain, pushing its way to the fore with love and urgency.

“…and then there will come to pass the birth of a mighty hero, steel-thewed and pure of heart, he will hearken to the call of the righteous. Tall, clean-limbed, of the greatest line of Taartun heroes, will he be. When the Egg, the Hero and the Blade are united, will our foes tremble.

Shattered earth and broken bones will litter the Tower. The Beast will be called forth at last, to do battle with the Taartun Hero and the …….”

Cornelius’ Vision blurred and Ngulu screamed in pain as a pureness of thought overtook his Master. Clari returned, pushing all apathy aside and severing the link between man and demon. It was wrong, unhealthy and unworthy of a true Taartun.

Thrashing in an uncontrolled dive they struck the ground, man and demon enmeshed in different  types of pain. Ngulu the Broken wrenched free of his chains, turning to snarl at the small man before him. Now he saw the thing for what it was; puny body, strange hair and burnt visage. This was not its Master. Ngulu felt the tug, the promise from the thing by the Tower but he refused to fall under its spell either. He was free now and would remain so. First things first, he would feed on this pitiful thing which had tricked him into believing it worthy.

Clawed hands reached forward and then recoiled in pain. Ngulu hissed and tried again. Cornelius now stood fully upright, staring into the demon’s face.

“Bad choice, baby,” he muttered, pulling Dunch and Bingle free from his belt, their wicked blades now glinting with bright red flame.

“For a while there we were a little lost, but not anymore.” Butt grinned his feral grin, something that was lost on the demon.

“I fear you not,” rumbled Ngulu, “you are small and weak without your little pet.”

The demon’s true nature showed and he hunched his shoulders ready to strike at the impudent creature before him.

“Us, lost?” replied Cornelius. “I think not.”

The dragon tattoo on his face began to writhe, growing to cover his shoulders and back.  A resounding crack! was heard from the Tower and the main spiral broke in two, just below where the Ori had placed their missiles, littering the earth below.

Ngulu snatched a glance towards the Tower then leapt to the air with two beats of his mighty wings.

“You have not heard the last of this,” he screamed as he arrowed towards the battle in the hills nearby, “I will be back…”

“Do bring some friends next time,” shouted Butt, “it just won’t be the same party without them.”

His smile faded as he turned to face the Tower, the stink of Viker’s presence pervading the atmosphere.

“Well Luv,” he crooned to himself as he began his march, “it seems the Old Hag was right after all.”

No-one answered him. How could she, Clari was dead. To Cornelius though, that did not really matter, she was the Egg, he once more the Hero and he held not one, but two Blades in his own hands.

“Cornelius,” a voice wailed and he looked back to see a strange figure rise from the grass. The checked cloth was faded, the trousers torn and face bloodied, but perhaps he, Cornelius Butt, was not the Taartun Hero after all.

“I couldn’t leave,” gasped the man as he staggered to a halt by his friend.

“Kam, thank’s for coming,” said Cornelius, “I always needed someone along to make me look good.”

The smile on his face took the sting out of his words, and together they turned and walked towards the Tower.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 25 Part 2

Cursed Hills
Zone IV

Shin followed Alana in her rush towards the enemy. They had landed amidst the blasted earth, dismissive of the smashed landscape. Some had been lost as they searched for a clear landing site to the firing of Alana and her men, but they were many. The creatures who emerged from the craft were a mixture of soldiers, winged creatures and screaming civilians. It did not seem to matter how many they gunned down, they just kept coming.

That, however, did not phase Alana. She had recovered the animalistic rage which characterized the followers of her Lord. Gauntlets were tossed aside, as were helmets, as she raced to battle. She ignored the lesser cannon-fodder, angling towards the main threat, as she perceived it, of the winged creatures. They looked like Viker, but he was nowhere to be found, and like him directed others to do their bidding. Once companions, their armour splashed with broken-winged symbol vied to reach Alana and her people, but they were too slow and inexperienced. They had no Johns to guide and teach them, no Alana to hold them in check, only their new leaders who appeared to glory more in their deaths than in the outcome of this battle.

A growl began deep in Alana’s throat as she smashed into the front armoured rank, a sound which was taken up by all her people. Well-remembered claws snicked into place as she slashed left and right, cutting her way through armour, flesh and bone as if it was not there.

The haughty Angels watched on dispassionately, waiting for their own chance. Their Lord had been clear, these traitors were to die and whatever expenditure of personnel required was warranted. They were, however, not defenceless, but imbued with the blessing of their own Master. As if on signal, they opened their wings and rose together above the throng. Wings beating, they looked down upon Alana and her people, and opened their mouths. The high-pitched screech which they emitted slammed into all below them, bursting blood vessels and ear-drums. None were spared, friend or foe, and as they watched disorientation take over they truly launched themselves into the fight for the first time.

Power fed into them with the blessing of their Master and they swelled with the knowledge of their victory. Wings folded, and claws outstretched they plummeted towards Alana and her men. There was no doubt of victory, the only delicious unknown was how long they could make their prey suffer for.

Suddenly a blast of blue fire smashed into them, halting their dive and allowing Alana and her people a brief respite. Their leader hovered in place and scanned the horizon for the source of the unexpected intervention. In the distance, he saw what appeared  to be another winged creature, one he did not recognise.

“Now, now,” came a voice filled with laughter, clear to his enhanced hearing, “play fair…”

A clawed hand hooked into his flesh and he looked down to see Alana’s bloody face below him, lips pulled back in a ferocious snarl and eyes blazing. This at least he understood. Screeching his own defiance he joined the fight.

Cornelius watched the rending of claws and teeth for a short while, before turning back towards the Tower. It was not the injustice of the battle which had drawn him into the conflict, rather Viker’s attempts to distract him from his purpose. The attempted violation of Cornelius’ thoughts warranted some form of punishment and he had never been one to forgive a slight. At least Viker now knew not to mess with him. If he chose to interfere further, then Cornelius would have to teach him a real lesson.

Onward they flew and behind them the skies darkened with winged figures, circling above the battle. Ngulu’s call had been heard and his brethren came to join the feasting.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 25 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Five

Emerald Forest
Zone I

Cornelius felt the disturbance of Viker’s arrival yet dismissed it as unimportant. He was still concentrating on his mission of vengeance which included both Amryn and the fighter’s pilot. Even the insistence of his companions paled into insignificance next to Clari’s loss. Ngulu the Broken was nothing more than a means of conveyance to him, and the demon was himself lost in introspection. His base hunger had returned with his renewed strength and he eyed the humans around him with the gaze of a predator choosing between a number of choice snacks.

“I do not like this monster,” said Sir Frederic to Burns, swinging the sword in his hand with feeling.

“Me neither,” muttered Burns, torn between the nearby threat of Ngulu and the burning forest, “however, I think we need to concentrate our efforts on getting out of the way of the fire first. If needs be we can deal with the demon afterwards.”

“What about Cornelius?” asked Kam.

“What about him?” responded Burns, checking his rifle and swinging his pack to his shoulder.

“Will he come with us?” insisted Kam, his old loyalty pushing him to ask the question.

“Don’t know, and don’t really care,” replied Burns, “he seems a little preoccupied and I for one have others things on my mind.”

“We should at least ask him,” said Kam, moving to face the now dismounted Cornelius. Ngulu hissed in warning and Kam took a pace backwards.

“I would move we warn my people,” said Sir Frederic, “there is a real threat from both the flames and any of those Ambryn who remain.”

“Agreed,” said Burns, “saddle up LLorente.”

Llorente said nothing, gathering his meagre possessions and ensuring the portal key was safe within his jacket.

“Cornelius?”

Kam tried again but the dragon-tattooed man ignored him, staring past the flames at the distant hills. At last he spoke.

“I go to the mountains and the Tower beyond,” he said in a monotone, “come with me or not, it’s your choice.”

“Not, then,” said Burns, “LLorente and I will go with Sir Frederic where we can at least do some good.”

Cornelius smiled, or at least that Burns hoped was what the expression was intended to be.

“Very well,” he said, “we will part company here. Be warned though, once you leave I cannot protect you.”

Burns laughed, “Up until now, I think we have been protecting you from yourself. It’s time we started protecting others, as our duty dictates.”

Cornelius bowed his head, then moved to climb on Ngulu’s shoulders.

“It would be better,” he said to Kam, “that you go with them. Ngulu and I have work to do.”

He ignored the look of hurt on Kam’s face and without another word, the demon leapt into the sky, unfolding its leathern wings.

“I think,” said Burns to Kam, “that your choice has been made for you.”

Kam waited for a moment, watching the demon and he who had once been his friend disappear into the distance, before turning and following Burns. Whatever he now was, the Cornelius of old seemed to have disappeared for good.

*

Cornelius felt no pang of regret. Indeed, with the parting of ways came a freedom of both responsibility and deviation from purpose. Ngulu did not need to speak, his baser instincts were served well by Cornelius’ single-minded purpose. There would be battle, death and feeding wherever his new Master went. His strength grew with each moment and soon he would be greater than any of his rivals. Then he could think of his relationship with Cornelius further.

They flew above the flames, noting the struggle of the few remaining Ambryn in their passing. Neither stopped to ponder what fate might hold for Burns and his companions. What would be, would be. Their way led towards the mountains and the Tower beyond.

As they rose higher, Cornelius detected the presence of others, and he raised his eyes to the horizon to follow the flares of the descending ships. Some moved towards the hills to his left, but the main body continued on towards the Tower. He felt Viker’s probe and contemptuously slapped it away. They would meet soon enough.

Ngulu the Broken also felt the attempted intrusion and in his burgeoning return to power experienced some disquiet. He sent out a call of his own, his cunning and need for self-preservation reawakened.

Above him Cornelius too felt Ngulu’s summons and smiled to himself. Treachery appeared a way of life to Ngulu and his kind. It was but to be expected. Although she was dead, Clari still remained a part of him. Who else had he ever needed?

Onward they flew, skirting the hills where now they could see the flash of weapons fire and reaching the plains once more. Cornelius’ vision wavered as Prophecy meshed with reality. He shrugged it away. He needed no sword, nor Taartun followers for what he wished to do. All he knew was that the Tower would provide him with the key to the destruction of his enemies. Beyond that, he cared not.