Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty-One: Dark Needs

Later in the evening, lightning forked downward, striking a nearby tree with a deafening c***k. Thunder boomed in the night sky above, brutally hammering the senses. In the blinding white glare from the lightning bolt, two terrified Nyen struggled against the ropes which bound them. Each lay upon an ancient curved sacrificial stone, with chests exposed. Beside each intended sacrifice, stood a Dark Binder poised and ready.

It had been weeks since the Manling settlement of Drennard had been destroyed. The s*******r of the foul beasts had been quick and merciless, save for one who escaped upon horseback. The light from the numerous burning hovels revealed the creature had suffered a wound from a spear tip. He had knocked the spike aside and managed to escape into the darkness. “General Anktar had ordered three mounted Nyen scouts to hunt him down and kill him. Afterward, he had drawn his massive iron greatsword free of its leather sheath. With a hot rush, the Giant felt his rage filling him to overflowing as he prepared to slay the Nyen, who had failed to stop the enemy rider.”

But, his ruby amulet had stopped him in mid-stride. “General Anktar, these Nyen will serve a far grander purpose if offered as sacrifices in a ceremony which I will reveal to you. Their lives will summon powerful allies, and their deaths shall show our army the true cost of failure.”

The group of worthless Nyen, who failed to stop the enemy messenger, would now pay the ultimate price. They would suffer for their failure. It would also help satisfy his commander’s anger and help soothe General Anktar’s rage at having to endure the demeaning insult as well.

Long before General Anktar saw Commander Sadeene, his winged superior, he could sense his malevolence approaching. It felt like a suffocating blanket. The general gasped and fought the urge to run and hide. His ruby amulet hissed within his mighty right fist, giving him the strength to withstand the assault upon his senses.

General Anktar’s memory of receiving the gift six months ago was still crystal clear. “Anktar, do not fear me. For I am Sadeene, and I have come to you bearing a mighty gift from the Master. Bemenah has chosen you to be his General,” Commander Sadeene had said within his mind. “You will lead his armies, to crush and destroy all who oppose his will. Guard this amulet well, for, through it, you will become stronger, wiser, and will learn to wield great power.”

Sadeene landed next to General Anktar, amidst swirling winds and a nebulous cloud of inky shadows. Immediately the general bowed, giving respect to his superior. Commander Sadeene was a member of the only race he feared. As general of the master’s armies, he would follow the orders of the commander, who received them directly from Bemenah, the Master.

Among the Brothers of Stone, General Anktar’s kin, Sadeene was called One Who Walks with Death. Never had Giants prevailed in a battle against the great winged one. Many Giants had died while struggling in vain to drive the winged death away.

Sadeene stood roughly eighteen feet tall at the shoulder, towering overall. The Dragon silently turned his massive black, scaled head. His large, softly glowing green eyes stared without blinking, no doubt observing everything. The black scales covering his powerful body reflected the bright white of the lightning flashes above.

Those hard plates had blunted many iron weapons. Cruel, sharp jagged teeth filled Sadeene’s powerful jaws, and the Dragon’s talons were deadlier than any sword. The beast’s claws paled in comparison to the beast’s fiery breath, which could turn flesh and forest alike into cinders and ash. His great black wings created powerful gales, as the Black dragon hurtled downward from the sky to rend life from mind and body with his sorcerous or mental attacks.

The general had once felt Sadeene’s terrible power within his mind. He had foolishly questioned an order, some time back. Immediately, the Giant felt a white-hot vise within his head. The pain had rendered him unconscious. Never again, would General Anktar question any order given by this one.

“General Anktar, give the order to proceed. I tire of these endless delays and want the ritual completed. Sacrifice the fools, so their lives may serve a useful purpose,” Sadeene commanded within his mind. General Anktar noted the tone of contempt for the sacrificial offerings. For once, Commander Sadeene and General Anktar were in complete agreement.

“You may proceed!” General Anktar ordered in a bellowing voice.

An Adumorda Priest read from a clay tablet, the words of a ritual which the Master had revealed to General Anktar to record. The angry-sounding words of the chant echoed in the air, increasing the intensity of the storm raging around them. The Giant watched with rapt attention, as only he knew what the ritual’s intent and cost were. The knives held by the two Dark Binders were raised high above their heads. In a blur, they plunged downward, piercing the chests of their respective sacrificial victims. Through the roar of the storm, General Anktar heard loud chanting. The lone Adumorda Priest’s words echoed powerfully through the air. “Betuksa estamanga ektacano dekase moradok!”

Each of the two Dark Binder now held a dark, gleaming urn, which contained the blood drained from their sacrifice. From each of the vases, the evil priest’s poured blood onto the flames of a ceremonial fire that produced a thick blackish-red cloud. Each of the two malevolent priests stood by a shapeless mass of clay upon a stone slab, holding a jug. Upon each form, was poured the remainder of the blood stored in each respective vessel.

The lone Adumorda spoke words, while the two Dark Binders worked tirelessly. Assistants removed the two bodies and swiftly tied another pair of screaming victims in place. Two by two, the Nyens died. The evil priests continued to pour blood into the mud mass before them. Each dark sorcerer worked at kneading the vital fluid into their pile of clay. From each body, various organs had been removed and placed within the mass. Both mounds now resembled rough Manling shaped forms.

The lone Necromancer continued chanting in a deep controlling voice. General Anktar could scarcely believe his eyes. For around each mass of lifeless clay, the distinct translucent figure of a Manling was now shimmering. One of the gleaming red-transparent shapes was distinctly female, while the second was male. Suddenly, a hand reached out from each of the gleaming masses to grab the wrist of the Dark Binder standing there. A deep rumbling chant ripped through the air. “Fesa aratook malefisacto!” Around the twin red shimmering forms flared a surge of brilliant ruby-red light.

In an instant, the glowing red veil and shimmering red forms vanished. In place of the gleaming red forms, now lay the bodies of both Dark Binders who lay still and lifeless. Where the two Necromancers had stood, a clothed female and male Manling were taking stock of their surroundings. The display of dark power had silenced all who witnessed the ritual, including General Anktar, who could only stare in disbelief.

The male Manling, an Adumorda Battle-Priest, wore shiny black leather boots, black linen leggings with a black leather belt, and a black tunic and cloak. Black shining hair hung above his shoulders. His eyes were softly glowing green orbs which hid what lay beneath. The dark mages blackface was clean-shaven and reminded General Anktar of an old black leather belt.

“Anarta, it would seem the Master needs our skills once more,” the male said.

“Yes, it would appear so, Selt,” replied the female Adumorda Battle priest. Anarta wore high-topped black leather boots, black leggings, and a black leather belt. A dark-gray tunic with a snug black leather jerkin completed her attire. Her gleaming black hair was long and held in place by bone combs, save for a braided lock of hair on the right side of her head. Her dark skin and her softly glowing green eyes matched her brothers.

“Anarta and Selt, we require your great powers and skills. Come, we have much to discuss,” Commander Sadeene said in a booming voice.

Two nights later, Selt stood before General Anktar, looking at an insignificant village in the valley below. The crude Manbeast homes stood dark and still. In the distance, a dog barked a few times, and all grew quiet once more. The Adumorda Battle-Priest drew intricate symbols in the loose soil around General Anktar, Anarta, and himself with a stick. Next, Selt retrieved a small stoneware jug from his cloak. He poured a thick noxious fluid onto the dirt before him, while chanting words General Anktar did not understand. The ground trembled and shook, as low moans echoed forth. From the soil rose a dark- purplish haze, even as the sound of a distant horn blared. The rank stench of rotting flesh permeated the air, making General Anktar gag.

“Arise, accursed defenders of Angrom, for this world has been silent for far too long. Come forth, I command you. It is time you once more fill the night air with the screams of the innocent.”

A hiss filled the air, which was quickly followed by the sound of horses snorting and whinnying. Before Selt, appeared many shadowy riders upon horseback, awaiting his orders. Around them hung a thick blanket of shadow, which partially hid their dark forms.

“They are not genuinely dead or alive. The Riders of Angrom have an insatiable hunger for the warmth of the living, nonetheless. They gain the warmth of life from each they kill, and a holy man’s curse leaches warmth away from them for each one they s*******r,” Selt said with a chuckle.

“Why did you make the scratches in the dirt around us?” General Anktar asked out of curiosity. The actions of his new ally had made no sense to the Giant.

“It matters not, whether those they kill are friend or foe. Each of them is driven to attain the warmth of life. The Riders of Angrom will kill every sentient creature and return to the cold darkness, waiting for me to summon them,” Selt explained. “The scratches are a protective ward I placed around us.”

“Ahhhhh, now I understand,” General Anktar said with a grin and chuckle.

“Ride this night, kill all of those below in the valley. Go now,” Selt ordered and motioned with a flourish of his arm.

“As you command,” a shadowy rider said in a low, raspy voice.

The raiders charged into the valley with swords drawn, vanishing into the night. The thunder of horse’s hooves rapidly faded in the distance. It did not take long before the riders closed with the first of the crude homes. Screams of terror filled the night air as the inhabitants attempted to fight or flee for their lives. A ruddy red glare cast by various burning buildings filled the scene below. Figures ran here and there, battling against the shadow raiders. The attack advanced rapidly through the town. Before long, buildings were aflame from one end to the other.

“Well, I, for one, have seen enough. Are you ready to leave?” Anarta asked Selt.

“Ready when you are.”

A moment later, the valley scene vanished, only to be replaced by one wherein the three of them were walking towards their camp. General Anktar could already smell the food cooking. He was starved and could hardly wait