The Obsidian Arrow

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The room was dark, but that was how Zergiel liked it. Dark energy surrounded him. Darkness gave him peace, it allowed him to smile. He lived for ultimate hate, for revenge. He knew Karceoles must die for doing this to him, for killing his beloved. Oh, how he missed her. She was the only good thing in his life.

“Hairamat …” He whispered his love’s name.

He glanced at his hands, so wrinkled and dark. They were tan from centuries of living. It was torture living for so long, especially now, without his love. She was the one person who’d brought him balance. He almost remembered himself as normal before she became sick. He was changed now. It was all for her, to save her life, and he had, until Karceoles killed her.

He took the kettle off the fire, ran some water over his fingers, checking the temperature, and poured the boiling water on his face. It burned and steamed around his red eyes. He gazed in the mirror at his ragged appearance. His gray beard wasn’t short anymore, but long and unkempt, and his wrinkles had only worsened. He sighed, put his black robe on, and walked outside.

The sunlight almost blinded him. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed the draeyks and daerions acting restless. He wanted them restless, craving battle. When they finally got to attack, they would not relent.

“Lord Zergiel,” a voice hissed.

He glanced to a draeyk dressed in blue leather armor. His complexion was dark, except where his black scales glistened in the moonlight. The draeyk standing in front of him was his chosen captain.

“Yes, Rabok?” Zergiel asked.

“We hunger for battle,” he hissed.

“Not yet. Trust me, when the time is right, we will strike, not before,” Zergiel said.

Another warrior lumbered over to him, a daerion dressed in red leather armor. The armor stood out more than any other because of his rough blue skin. The horns angling toward his jaw were chipped from hard battle.

“Yes, Captain?” Zergiel asked.

“The necromancers have arrived.”

“Thank you,” Zergiel said.

Zergiel turned to his three necromancers. All had black-and-gray hair trailing down their backs and a full trimmed beard making a point at their chins. It would be impossible to tell them apart if not for their different color robes.

The youngest, and the newest addition to their force, was Darelme. His robes were dark green, and he was the one who’d come up with raising dead scorpions for an army. He created the nacropi. Zergiel was grateful for his contribution.

The oldest was Valender. He wore purple robes, and excelled at raising the dead. He was one of the first necromancers whom Zergiel had met when his life changed.

The last was Dumarst. He wore yellow robes and could outdo the others at spells. He was working on a spell to permanently increase the nacropi armor, but hadn’t perfected it yet.

“What do you have for me?” Zergiel asked.

Darelme held up a cage full of scorpions. They were all different sizes, and many different species. The ones still alive were fighting each other.

Zergiel smiled at the addition to his army of nacropi. Nacropi were by far the most formidable ally he had. Zergiel poked his finger between the bars of the black metal cage, and was nearly pinched. He hoped to create an entire army of nacropi. He knew the draeyk and daerions would only be so much help, but with the nacropi, he could easily destroy mankind.

“And they will be able to be controlled?” Zergiel asked.

“So far, only for a limited time; however, we are working on a spell to make them permanently under our control,” Dumarst said.

“Very good, now you must find more. I want an army of them. I want our final march on Sudegam to be its destruction!”

Zergiel stood in the darkest shadows of the night, in the one place he actually felt scared. The area surrounding him was unpredictable. The wind blew harshly, and the freezing temperature gave Zergiel chills. The sky was dark, the stars hidden in the night sky.

He was impatient, yet he waited. He knew his impatience would only make matters more difficult. A shadow appeared in front of him. It happened so quick he almost missed it. He closed his eyes, clasped his right hand over his left in front of him, and waited.

“I’ve been expecting you,” a cruel female voice whispered as she pressed a dagger against his throat.

He opened his eyes and found Arria standing in front of him. Her beauty outmatched any other’s. The stars revealed themselves, showing her flawless charcoal skin and long pearl-colored curls. Her red eyes stared into his, intoxicating. Her skin appeared as silk, and he only wished he could touch her.

“Arria … I come to ask for your help,” Zergiel said.

She watched him carefully, studying him. Her face broke out in a small half smile. “What is in it for me?”

“Sudegam’s destruction,” he said.

“And what of my sister?” she asked.

“Her life spared and turned over to you. Everyone else … there won’t be prisoners.” Zergiel grinned.

Arria’s half smile transformed into a smirk, showing her perfect white teeth. She moved the dagger from his throat and put it back into her long spiked boots. Chain mail clung to her body, with black plate armor covering her bosom and hips.

“Will you help me?” Zergiel asked.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“I need a general.”

“You did not choose me so you can have a general. What do you need with my … abilities?”

“Come to camp and I’ll explain what I need you to do.” He grinned.