SDIV El Juego Chapter Thirty Part Three

Shanna was old, malevolent and sure in her own immortality. Centuries passed her quietly by as she schemed, moving towards her ultimate goal of godhood. From the humble an crowded beginnings of her birthing pool, she killed, maimed and eaten her way to the top. These Taartuns were but another example of an inferior and gullible race to be used up an thrown away. It irked that this insufferable dwarf stood in her way to greatness, with all the hallmarks of fulfilling a prophecy that she herself had invented. It never once entered her mind that she had also been used by one greater than herself and it was with this self-serving arrogance that she faced Cornelius.

He was enjoying himself. The release from pretence and the imminent possibility of really damaging the Old Hag buoyed him. Not since his little jaunt in the Forked Tongue on Luther, so long ago, had he truly enjoyed himself so much and the prospect for mayhem in front of him bode well for a delightful afternoon. Cornelius forgot about his mission, the raging demon ripping itself clear of the Tower and the imminent destruction of this world. Shanna was his and he would take payment for all his hurt and frustration from her scaly green hide. He actually laughed as he let go of the left handle and whipped the wire forward, aiming for the hand holding the staff. At the last minute he stopped, causing the wire to shudder and loop sideways, scoring a burning red line across Shanna’s flesh where it touched in passing. His power anchored him in place as he flicked the weapon backwards, grinning at Shanna’s screams and curses. 

Shanna tried to raise her staff and concentrate on her enemy, but it burned. Each little touch of the wire sent pain shooting throughout her body and she took her first step back. Cornelius followed, dancing in mid-air, the wire twirling round his body glaring white-hot as power shimmered of it in waves. Shanna stepped further away, her gaze fixed wholly on the maddening figure, her breath hissing in and out. Behind her rock cracked and tore, but she ignored it.

Something blurred past her vision and for a moment she thought Cornelius had again struck, but his answering grunt robbed her of that misconception. Glancing up, Shanna saw a large rock cleaved in half by the spinning wire and now looked behind her. A huge hand ripped at the earth, flinging rock pieces haphazardly into the air. A chance missile had distracted Cornelius. She took her opportunity and ran.

“Where do you think you are going?” drawled a lazy voice, in her mind. She recognized Viker’s tones but could not see him. Her flight from that battle had brought her here first, she could not let him receive her reward. Spinning she looked for her enemies, but only saw a hysterical Cornelius waltzing in her direction. Shanna ducked beneath a large clawed hand and grunted in resignation. The battle would have to be fought here. She struck her staff into the rent earth and harsh syllables poured from her misshapen mouth.

*

It was hungry…and there was so much food nearby. The earth itself revolted against the creature grasping at its enormous ankles, clawing at its mighty wings and ignoring its imperious demands. Fold Space called yet it was bound to this earthly plane, limited by an almost tantalising near-existence. Puny power raged around it but it needed meat.

Stopping for a moment it raised a huge face upwards and gulped in a gigantic breath. The taste of an approaching enemy stung it, the subtle flavours of Fold Space told the creature that soon it would face another of its kind and it must feed. A hint of old memory surfaced and it ceased struggling, plunging its freed hand deep into the earth. Old flesh was not the same yet it would do. It crammed the remains of Shan’s minions into its maw, ignoring the flesh-rotting disease that infected them and flexed its wings…

SDIV - El Juego Chapter Thirty Part Two

Cornelius was at a full run, yet horses and men began to overtake him,. That would not do. He gathered his energy within, his tatoos writhing in response and started to release his power...

"No you will not, Sirrah," boomed a deep voice, and Cornelius felt himself lifted up by the back of his robe.

The earth sped by, his feet windmilling with little dignity as he was hauled up onto the back of the warhorse, Sir Frederic dumped him unceremoniusly down and sped back up. Butt wanted to say something, but fought instead to control the energy coursing through him. It was a close thing.

"There are enough demons for my men to focus on," said Sir Frederic pompously, "without you distracting them."

"Don't be so anal," mumbled Cornelius, setting fire to a nearby bush, "there'll be more than enough to keep them busy in just a short while..."

He ignored the Knight and concentrated on the Tower. One wing was now free and stretched out across the plain. The other was still stuck within the crumbling rock, but would not stay that way for long. A gout of green flame arced skwards, followed by a titanic roar as the creature turned to survey the ants racing towards it. This would not be pretty.

"Put me down," said Cornelius quietly, yet the Knight ignored him.

With an agility ill-becoming his reputation, Cornelius sprang to his feet, balancing on the shoulders of the animal galloping towards its own death. There was a muffled grunt as he leapt upwards, somersaulting away from Sir Frederic as he tried to pull up sharply. Now was not the time for chastisement and Cornelius called again on the energy bubbling below the surface. It gleefully responded and he rose high in the air as he stretched out his hands.

"Explain this to your narrow-minded followers" he laughed as he hurtled forwards.

Sir Frederic watched his friend race towards the Tower, and for once ignored the cries of herecy around him. The idiot was going to take on the monster by himself...and that just would not do.

Flames boiled from Cornelius' hands as he closed upon the structure, melting rock and causing his enemy to scream in frustration. He circled the creature twice, narrowly avoiding a sweep of its gigantic wing and snapping fangs before he was satisfied.

"Take on the Chosen One, would you?" he sneered, alighting gently on the rock-strewn ground before the Tower, "well it's time to reap your ultimate reward."

Once again gathered  his power, his clothes smoking with the energy called upon. Cornelis smiled at the thought of what Kam would say if they burned away revealing him in all his glory, yet he gritted his teeth and continued. He was ready...

"No-o-o," hissed a voice beside him, and Cornelius was flung sideways as what felt like a metal bar slammed into his side, Shanna announcing her presence with the act.

"Think that you will thwart me now, worm?" she screamed strangely, garbling the words as her tongue darted in and out of her now prominent snout.

"You really shouldn't have done that," said Cornelius calmly, as he rose to his feet, "It's not lady-like..." and then he grinned evilly.

Shanna watched as he pulled a rusty length of wire from his belt, taking hold of what appeared to be wooden handles at each end.

"And what," she laughed derisively, "do you think you are going to achieve with that?"

"Bliss..." replied Cornelius as he sprang, whipping one handle free and filling the weapon with power.

SDIV El Juego Chapter Thirty Part One

Chapter Thirty

The Tower

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

The roar of engines wrenched Shan’s attention away from the enthralling sight of his erstwhile Master’s imminent demise. The various Shuttles and Attack Boats descended rapidly, disgorging the check-suited humans and he watched intently as an old woman descended from an open ramp, her young aide holding her upright. The aide was beautiful and Shan felt the stirrings of his perverted lust as he gazed upon her. There was something about the old woman though, something that he should remember…

A venomous green light speared from the old woman’s hand, searing his rotten flesh and driving him to his knees. Raw energy melted into him, boiling what was left of his blood in indescribable agony.

“Now, do you remember…?”

A voice filled with hate and spite ripped and tore at his mind, and he suddenly knew who she was, and despite his overwhelming pain he still had time for fear.

“M…”

“Enough, worm,” spat Shanna as she threw aside Clari’s unnecessary support, “you were always weak.”

She raised her staff on high, all pretence of weakness disappearing. Clari recoiled in horror as the Witch Woman began to transform, her wrinkled body filling and lengthening. Scales were visible, and her snout emerged with a forked tongue flicking free to taste the air.

“S-s-s-cum-m-m-m,” she hissed and thrust the staff forward, its tip glowing red with heat.

“I think not,” said a cheerful voice, and Clari looked on a beautiful winged God, glowing with purity and light, “this one is mine now.”

Shanna changed her attention to Viker as he dropped in front of the steaming husk of his minon. He was not alone, as other winged monsters surrounded him. As the beam struck, Clari’s vision cleared and she saw Viker for who he truly was and she screamed at the broken wings and blood-smeared face.

Viker flicked a last palm and the beam sped away, striking a group of his followers and incinerating them where they stood.

“Not so ea-s-s-y? Lo-s-s-t your power?” cackled the evil old woman.

“Now…Ngulu,” whispered Viker as he sank to his knees.

Powerful arms wrapped around the witch and began to squeeze, and this apparition was the final straw which drove Clari screaming towards the nearby heights. She did not stop running until she reached the lines of Taartuns who watched in horror as the battle unfolded below them, where she collapsed in front of the diminutive Chosen One.

Her humiliation was complete, as he ignored her and the crackles of released energy as Shanna fought back. Instead he stared at the broken-topped Tower, grim-faced and implacable.

There was an almighty cracking sound and the top third of the Tower spilt way, crashing to the ground in a mix of dust and rubble. Clari felt the deep booming tone of a bell deep within her chest and opened her mouth to ask and question but Cornelius Butt had gone, racing as fast as his legs could carry him down towards the plain below. With a roar the others drew their weapons and followed, an armoured Knight in the lead, leaving  a bewildered Clari and her loyal retainers beside the craft she had sent to capture the horrible little man.

“The Chosen One is he?” sneered Clari rising to her feet with what little dignity she could muster. “It didn’t take him long to run away…”

She squeaked as strong arms gripped her shoulders and turned her forcibly to watch Cornelius and his men.

“They go to their deaths, you stupid girl,” growled a voice she recognised, as Warchief MacEdoon at last let her go and she saw a great pair of wings pushing forth from the ruins of the Tower. Dark smoke boiled upwards as whatever was inside tried to burst free.

“And you?” she sneered, “What does a mighty Warchief like you do?”

A weathered face grinned back at her as MacEdoon dragged his sword free of its scabbard, “Why follow of course…”

SDIV El Juego Chapter 29 Part 3

Kam’s level of excitement rose in conjunction with the lowering of the shuttle’s ramp and at one point Cornelius had to physically restrain him from rushing forward to welcome his brothers. The turret mounted auto-cannons which swivelled to cover him and the onrushing Sir Frederic and his men gave him pause for thought.

“Wait!” he growled as the ramp came to a halt and a group of Taartun warriors rushed out to secure the area.

Deliberately, Cornelius turned his back on the newcomers and raised his arms to try and slow down the enthusiastic Knight. With a spray of dirt and stone Sir Frederic appeared, narrowly missing the still hopping Kam as he hauled his mount to a halt.

“Well met, Cornelius,” said Frederic politely, as he raised his visor, “how are you feeling?”

Cornelius grinned as he saw the muzzle of Burns’ rifle trained on him, “Just fine Freddy, although Kam here seems to have been struck down with a severe case of Restless Legs Syndrome.”

“He’s back,” grumbled Burns sliding gratefully from his own mount, “snide little shit.”

“Love you too,” replied Cornelius blowing the soldier a kiss, “but enough of frivolities, it seems as though the never-ending threat of war has finally arrived and in numbers.”

Burns jerked his head towards the nervous-looking Taartuns, “Friends of yours?”

“Not sure,” mused Cornelius, “they might be…”

“And the Demons?” asked Sir Frederic, cautiously insistent in his doubts.

“Definitely not,” said Cornelius, “as well as those others. They seem rather unfriendly to me.”

“They burned and destroyed my village,” snarled the Knight.

“Well not our friends then,” said Cornelius quietly, anger tinging his words, “and we’ll just have to make sure that we do something about that.”

“First things first, though,” he said as he rubbed his hands together, “we need to ascertain if these Taartuns mean harm or just wish to worship the ground I walk on.”

“You’re not going to do…magic, are you,” asked Sir Frederic in a stage whisper.

“Not unless they start first,” replied Cornelius as he turned and made his way forward, “or at least until they piss me off.”

Burns shook his head and trailed behind the diminutive figure, “Told you he was back,” he muttered as he checked the magazine on his rifle, “and things can only get worse from here.”

SDIV El Juego Chapter 29 Part 2

The Tower

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

Kam pointed towards the sky and the contrails of descending craft.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Expected visitors,” commented Cornelius, squinting as he tried to concentrate on the roiling mass of battle below him, “you know, Kam, I don’t think that everyone will be happy with the new arrivals.”

“Are we happy?” queried Kam, doubt tinging his voice.

“Oh, we’re always happy, Kam,” replied Cornelius, “life is full of surprises for those who welcome them.”

“But who are these new people?” Kam sounded troubled, as though it was beyond him how this could be good news.

“Taartuns,” replied Cornelius, sitting back down and stretching out his legs.

“Our people then,” said Kam, “good, we could do with some help.”

“Hmm,” agreed Cornelius absently, “although I am not so sure how much of our people there are amongst them.”

“The Taartuns are our people,” insisted Kam.

“Allegedly,” said Cornelius, smiling as he felt the ground beneath him begin to tremble, “but as usual, they aren’t the only ones rushing to join the party.”

Kam turned as he too felt the approaching thunder. Behind him, the sun glinted off metal and a murmur of noise reached his ears.

“That was quick,” he commented, “they must have landed further away and are hurrying to join us.”

“Oh,” said Cornelius, “those aren’t the Taartuns, but I would at least classify them as friends.”

“What?” queried Kam, now even more confused.

“Sir Frederic approaches,” said Cornelius, “and it seems as though he has found some friends.”

*

“There,” called Sir Frederic, above the noise of drumming hooves, “I can see Cornelius.”

“Yeah,” grunted Burns, clinging on for dear life, “and it seems as though Kam stayed with him. That must be a good sign.”

Sir Frederic signalled his troops to aim for the two small figures and they wheeled to obey him. He was happy with the disciplined force which had joined him. His cousin had protested, as usual, but Sir Frederic’s call for volunteers had been readily answered.  Their reaction to Cornelius would need managing, but the greater threat of the demons and their followers would concentrate them on their true mission. The evidence of the village’s destruction and the atrocities committed there left little for dispute as to who they should be fighting. Now, if only Cornelius could restrain himself from displays of magic, they just might stand a chance.

“Watch out!” shouted Burns, as the first of the descending craft roared overhead, startling some of the mounts.

Even though he knew they were not about to attack, Sir Frederic ducked as the snub-winged craft rocketed overhead. Bolts of energy flew upwards from beyond the ridge and answering auto-cannons began to fire. He spurred his recalcitrant mount onwards, the quicker they joined the fight, the less time his men had to contemplate demons and magic.

“Sir Frederic!”

Burns shout and pointing finger drew his attention to the two lone figures and the craft which began to descend directly over them.

“To Battle!” he roared, his men following readily behind. He just hoped they would arrive in time.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 29 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Broken Blade

Taartun Flagship

Unknown Location

“Are you sure this is the place, old woman?” asked Clari in disbelief.

The planet below them appeared little different from others they had visited, searching for the annoying little man. Shanna grinned a gap-toothed smile at her supposed relative and nodded, as she felt the thrill of power extinguished on their arrival. It was not Cornelius but something less pure, if Cornelius could ever have been called such a thing. There was a dirty feel to the transmitted energy which drew her like a moth to a flame, it seemed as though the dwarf had succeeded in his catalytic assignment.

“Ships detected,” shouted their Captain, as they closed range, “ with energy releases on the surface!”

“Now do you doubt me?” sneered Shanna as she hobbled towards the holo-screen by the Captain’s chair.

Clari reeled back as though she had been struck. It was not so much the words, nor the inherent disdain. No, it was the pulsing throat muscles and the nictitious membrane which reminded her that this Witch Woman was someone to respect.

“Will the Prophecy be fulfilled?” Clari asked humbly.

“Oh, that it will,” replied Shanna gleefully, and then in a voice only she could hear, “but which one my pretty? That is the real question.”

Clari shivered as Shanna’s evil cackle rang across the bridge.

“”Launch the boats,” snarled Shanna, all signs of age disappearing from her voice, “we have a world to win and destiny before us!”

The cheering of her Clansmen followed Clari as she left the Bridge. Quickly she found her men.

“Take our people on one of the boats. Make sure you find the thrice-damned Chosen One and bring him to me.”

They saluted and left at a run. Clari’s volatility was well known and no-one wanted to cross her. The only doubt was why she wanted to be the one to find the Chosen One and what she wanted with him. It was in neither of their places to ask or even know the answer to such a question. The Chosen One would know, and that was sure in their minds. Tradition and legend said it was so. The fact that neither they, or the rest of Clari’s people, had ever set eyes on Cornelius Butt before probably went a long way to explaining their blind faith. Reality would have a surprise from them before the day was over.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 28 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Tower

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

Light filtered down from above in thin streams where cracked roofs and uneven joints gave egress through the first two floors. Deeper, only darkness ruled. Shan used a glow globe to follow Viker down the uneven stairs to the ground floor, where dust puffed up mirroring their movements.

“Nothing,” coughed Viker, “there is absolutely nothing.”

Shan could have told him that, if only Viker had bothered to ask. Even with his own short-term stay on this planet, the Tower had been an obvious point to search. Granted, and for some strange reason, association with the similar structure on Diadem never entered his mind, so that his search had been desultory with zero expectation of reward. Now that he recognised the similarities there was a residual disappointment.

“What now, my Lord?” queried Shan, more than slightly refreshed with his visit to the village and sacrificial rites.

“We wait for the dwarf’s arrival, teach him a lesson and then be on our way,” said Viker.

“Do we have an urgent appointment anywhere in particular?” asked Shan, truly believing that his affected air came across as nonchalance.

“I certainly do,” confirmed Viker, “I still remain to be convinced that you do too…”

The comment startled Shan. What did Viker know? The rites were specifically designed to please his old Master, not this new one, and his followers were loyal to the last. He had after all created them himself.

Viker grinned, “Your show in the village was entertaining, although a little overdone even for my liberal tastes. I decided to allow you a little rope with which to hang yourself and am interested to see what you will do next.”

“But the power…” protested Shan, giving up any pretence of innocence.

“I gave you a little of my own,” said Viker, peering at the shabby murals decorating one of the walls, “it seemed a good thing to do at the time. Enough!”

Shan stumbled backwards as a bolt of pure energy lanced out from Viker’s open hand and struck the wall, punching a hole clear through the brick. Light streamed in showing the mural in more detail.

“That’s better,” mumbled Viker, bending to look closely at the various pictures.

“Similar,” he said, “but not the same.”

The drawing he indicated showed a winged figure kneeling before something or someone. It was hard to make out what, as the picture had been disfigured deliberately, but to one side had been scratched a half-moon shape with three separate and unknown runes.

“Kneeling to, or bending down?” queried Shan.

“What?” Viker’s voice was raised in anger and Shan gulped in expectation of a blow, “Explain…”

“I was thinking aloud,” shrugged Shan, realising he really had nothing to lose, “it could be either. The presence of our dwarf friend must have put the thought in my mind.”

Viker stared hard at the picture again, his lips moving as he appeared to read the runes.

“Out!” he screamed, racing for the stairs.

Shan followed, terrified by his Master’s reaction. What had he seen?

SDIV El Juego Chapter 27 Pt 3

The smell was almost bearable, almost. Lllorente gave in and vomited what little he had in his stomach over the nearest pile of corpses still awaiting burial. Sir Frederic’s insistence on doing the right thing carried its own burdens, and a little extra would make no distance. Trying not to take too deep a breath, he continued to dig.

“Hold, knave!”

The voice sounded like Sir Frederic’s. but the Knight was over the far side of the village carrying out his own burial detail.

“I said hold!”

Llorente turned and the familiar sight of mounted warriors met his eyes. This was in some way déjà vu with respect to his last visit to the area. At least he did not look like a magician as his rifle was out of sight, but obviously once again these people had jumped to conclusions. Enough was enough!

“Who the fuck are you calling knave?” he spat, straightening up and gripping the spade in his hands more tightly.

“You,” sneered the horseman, drawing his sword, “and I intend to teach you a lesson…”

“What would that be,” asked Llorente with a smirk, having noticed Burns rifle poking from the nearest cabin, “how to behave as an educated gentleman?”

“Why you…” the horseman rose up in his stirrups, fully intending to strike the obnoxious Llorente down where he stood.

“Hold!” a louder voice roared and Sir Frederic appeared, trailed by a number of other mounted and lightly armoured men and boys.

“Who are you to tell me…” began the irascible horseman. He never finished his sentence as the spade slammed into him at full swing, knocking him from his mount to sprawl amidst the pile of bodies.

“Llorente!” roared Sir Frederic.

“Sorry,” mumbled Llorente, trying ineffectually to hide his pleased grin, “but the prick was being disrespectful.”

Sir Frederic also tried manfully to retain his dignity, but a rueful chuckle escaped before he could control it.

“My cousin has always been a bit of a prick,” he agreed quietly with Llorente, before turning to face the new arrivals he had brought with him.

“You want me to hit him again?” asked Llorente, eying the moaning cousin where he lay.

“Only if he deserves it…” began Sir Frederic, and then as Llorente eagerly raised the spade he finished, “…again.”

The solid thud of the spade against armour gave him his reply.

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 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.

SDIV El Juego Chapter 22 Part 2

Flagship

Unknown Location

Shan’s landing was less than textbook, his fighter bouncing twice on its landing skids before skidding to a halt inside the hanger deck. His anger did not help. Everything appeared to have changed with the intervention of the dwarf in the game. Pieces played and deployed should not have had the ability to effect the various zones in the manner they had done so.

His robes tangled in his feet, almost causing him to fall face down onto the metal floor. Curses were not enough and he stalked through the ship, looking for someone to kill. It could only be an Ori, as his men were already dead. Reanimated and diseased corpses gave little in the way of satisfactory enjoyment.

Arriving on the bridge his anger increased; only one of the Ori remained, shivering in fear and hunched over the table. Well, he would have to do…

“Lord!” cried the Ori in relief.

It was this happy circumstance which stayed Shan’s hand. There should have been cowering terror, not eagerness.

“What?” snapped Shan, back-handing one of his own men just to release a little pressure.

“Others have entered the game:”

“Others? More?” asked Shan, his anger warring with his disbelief.

“Yes, Lord,” replied the Ori, now shrinking in dutiful fear, “unknown soldiers in powered armour, and someone with a portal key…”

“A portal key?” asked Shan, “How could anyone have a portal key?”

“I do not know, Lord,” said the Ori, “but there were two unscheduled activations.”

“Which Zone?” growled Shan, hoping against hope that he would not hear the words he was dreading, yet somehow knowing it would be so.

“Zone One,” said the Ori and Shan began to relax, “and Zone Three…”

Now Shan’s anger was replaced by fear. The dwarf and his beast were there, if they managed to find the right combination then they could be here at any time.

“Guards,” roared Shan, “prepare to move out.”

His men shuffled forward, confused by his command.

“You!” he said pointing at the Ori, “Collapse all of the portals now except this one, and strengthen our shields. I want no-one getting here by mistake.”

“There is nothing to worry about, my Lord,” began the Ori, shutting his mouth as a flailing fist grazed the top of his head.

“Do it!” roared Shan and the Ori rushed to the command console, shutting down the zonal barriers as quickly as he could. They would lose all of their stock, but survival was worth it.

“Thank you,” said Shan, “but I should have done this earlier.”

He nodded at the nearest of his men who grabbed the Ori, tilting his head backwards. Yellowed teeth snapped at pale flesh and Shan turned away. Mindless automatons were better than fools. He would just have to make do.