Reaver’s Song

“This sucks,” I sighed as I surveyed the damage to my armor. It was a complete loss, I decided. Carrisyn stepped past me, already fully dressed, her hand brushing against my ass and lingering for a long moment.

“It looks good on you,” she whispered, licking my ear teasingly as she moved past me toward the door. I watched in awe as she moved, amazed how playful she was all of a sudden. Not to mention I had just seen her naked. I could now, legitimately, put an actual mental picture to what previously had been simply wild imaginings. Honestly, the real thing was far better than anything I could have imagined, and I had a pretty damn good imagination for that sort of thing.

I wondered idly if knowing you’d seen someone naked qualified as some sort of voyeuristic perk to having sex? I had no idea, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. Oh my GOD! I thought and nearly squealed with delight. I just had SEX! With a real person! No, not just with a real person! With Carrisyn! And I had totally topped her, too! I was at least a low-rent demi-goddess at this point, I was sure of it.

“O hai!” Sayuri waved as I emerged from the glorified wine cellar into a wide hall. “What were you doing?”

“Uhhhh,” I cleared my throat, careful not to meet her inquisitive gaze. “We were…discussing…er…strategy.”

“Ohhh!” Sayuri nodded enthusiastically. “I thought you were breeding!”

“What?”

“I didn’t know strategy sounded like breeding,” Sayuri mumbled to herself in some confusion, scratching her ear thoughtfully. I blushed and gently pushed Sayuri forward.

“Let’s, uh, see what new monstrosity we’ve got, ‘k?” I muttered.

“Will you teach me strategy?” Sayuri asked, partially turning around as I pressed her forward. I sighed and shook my head.

“That is…totally not the right question to ask right now,” I chuckled nervously. “Let’s just see the monsters, shall we?”

“Oh! I saw them! They’re magical husks!” Sayuri replied brightly.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I muttered.

The nightmares crawling along the floor past the corner I was crouched behind would have ruined HP Lovecraft’s lunch, I decided quickly. They were emaciated, their skin blackened and charred as if put through a fire. Their twisted limbs creaked and groaned, the lengthened, hooked claws which had once been fingers flicked out to grab whatever they could find on the floor and stuff it into their gaping, toothy maws. Their eyes were cold, white, and blind under stubbles of coarse hair. The sickening mewling screams torn from their misshapen throats echoed along the stone halls piteously.

“What the shit are those?” I gasped, feeling like I was looking at a car crash in twisted humanoid form.

“Leave it to me,” Zelaeryn hefted her massive sword from her back.

“No! Wait! You can’t! They-” Carrisyn shouted too late. The huge demon had already swung the blade, a sapphire wave of fire spread out and rushed down the tight hallway, burning the first husk to a cinder before it could react. A sudden cacophony of hoarse screams sounding like something out of Dante’s inferno shattered the quiet and echoed along the stone halls. “-share a hive mind.” Carrisyn finished, slumping in defeat with a sigh. “Fuck.”

“Let them come!” Zelaeryn growled, her face beaming with joy at the prospect of combat.

“For the record, this is not my fault,” I pointed out, my daggers jumping to my hands. Zelaeryn was already rushing forward gleefully as two of the husks rushed toward her, their claws scrabbling and tearing grooves in the stone. Zelaeryn’s blade made quick work of them, slicing them cleanly in two before I could even blink. She turned back toward us with a wild grin.

My keen eyes caught movement behind her and a moment later my daggers snapped out and caught the cleanly cut in half husk between the eyes as it crawled forward. The second husk had nearly reached Zelaeryn’s leg when Alarice’s arrow slammed into its head, and it lay still.

“What…?” Zelaeryn turned around in surprise, staring down at the still twitching husks on the ground.

“You have to take out their brain,” Carrisyn shook her head with a sigh. “It severs their connection to the others and is the only way to kill them for good. That’s why I didn’t want to do this.” The screams and scrabbling of claws drew closer.

“How many do you think there are?” Lysabel asked hesitantly, clearly not really wanting to know.

“Hundreds? Thousands?” Carrisyn shrugged.

“Oh,” Zelaeryn looked both apologetic and eager.

“After the war turned against the Elves down south the high Elves retreated here in the hopes of leveraging their magic to create a weapon to turn the tide against Rhade. There’s no more record of them after that,” Carrisyn adjusted her robes irritably, scowling at Zelaeryn rather than me for a change. “I can only assume that the betrayal of the council at the hands of the demons put a halt to that endeavor, leaving them drained of magic. Obviously, there’s no record available for me to be sure, but I imagine that over the years, with no escape through the portal possible following the death of the queen and her council and drained of magic, they must have turned into husks. There are records of other Elves turning into husks, but these are far more powerful. I have no idea how many there are, though. Suffice it to say, this is not good.”

“Why can’t we have good news for once?” I groused. “’Congratulations! You’ve unleashed a kaleidoscope of butterflies! Enjoy the pretty colors!’ Something like that would be nice for a change.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lysabel nodded.

“I like butterflies!” Sayuri clapped her hands excitedly. “Where are they?”

“Far from here, since they undoubtedly have more sense than we do,” I shook my head bitterly.

“Where are we going?” Zelaeryn turned toward the still empty entryway at the end of the hall, sword at the ready.

“We need to go to the Royal Armory for the sword and the Queen’s Library for what I need.”

“Can you guide us there?” Zelaeryn demanded, plainly in her element.

“I…think so,” Carrisyn replied haltingly. “I’m no expert, but I’ve seen the maps of the castle.”

“I saw Resident Evil, too. Doesn’t make me Milla Jovovich,” I muttered darkly to myself.

“What?” Carrisyn asked.

“I said this castle’s a mile of bitch,” I quickly lied, plastering an innocent look on my face.

“I don’t know what that is, but it seems about accurate,” Sascha shrugged.

“Right?” I sighed.

“Ok, I’ll take point,” Zelaeryn interrupted us, the fire burning in her eyes rather frightening. I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her bloodlust. “Alarice and Ashvallen will be in charge of stragglers, the rest of you help kill them as well as you’re able. I hope you’re all ready. Because here they come!”

“Oh. Goody,” I muttered, dropping into a crouch behind and to the left of the giant blue demon while Alarice took up position behind and to her right.

Several of the horrors erupted from the darkness beyond the entryway and Zelaeryn cut them down without a second thought, Alarice and I finishing them up quickly. The huge blue demon strode forward, her blazing blue sword lighting the way along a flight of winding stairs leading up into the castle. We battled our way up the stairs, dispatching more and more of the hideous creatures as we went until the stairs ended in another hall. Zelaeryn was barely winded, but I began to wonder how much longer she could continue. I imagined cutting a swathe of destruction through enemies while swinging a sword bigger and heavier than I couldn’t be easy.

“There should be a door halfway down the north wall,” Carrisyn gestured to the wall on our right side as a flaming bolt erupted from her outstretched fingers, destroying another husk who had emerged at the far end of the hallway.

For some reason this whole scenario made me think of a zombie movie. I always imagined myself as one of the surviving and conquering heroes battling their way through the horde to save my loved ones with pithy sayings aplenty and witty commentary. The reality, however, was that I always harbored a secret fear I’d most likely be one of the myriad horde who was too slow, clueless or a deadly combination of both to escape the spread of the disease.

Yet here I was, at the very least a side character, in what could very well be a zombie apocalypse. Maybe I could be the plucky best friend with the heart of gold who walked away from explosions at the side of the hero without looking. Everyone knew heroes didn’t look at explosions. They were too cool, and by extension, the plucky best friend was also far too cool to look.

“Don’t let them draw blood,” Carrisyn warned as her magic burnt yet another husk to a crisp. “They spread a magical poison that’ll drain and kill you in seconds.” I turned to stare at her in horror for a long second.

“What?” She cocked her head to the side.

“You didn’t think to volunteer that tidbit of information earlier?” I gaped. Didn’t the plucky best friend always die horribly? I no longer wanted to be the best friend at all, I decided. I wasn’t nearly cool enough to not run from the explosion in a panic, so I was plainly not qualified anyway.

“Well, no one got scratched so it’s fine,” Carrisyn smirked at me infuriatingly as we reached the spot on the wall she’d mentioned.

“Uh…” Sayuri raised her hand and Carrisyn sighed.

“I know, I know,” she snapped irritably.

“It’s just that there’s no door here, sir, lady, sir!” Sayuri pointed out needlessly.

“I got that!” Carrisyn growled. “Thanks.”

“Okie! You’re welcome!” Sayuri saluted smartly.

“You do know where we’re going, right?” Sascha fixed Carrisyn with a disappointed look.

“I said I wasn’t a damn expert, didn’t I? Just give me a minute,” Carrisyn sighed irritably.

“You’re right,” Lysabel muttered to me. “This castle is a mile of bitch.” I nodded vehemently in agreement. I doubted I had ever been more unintentionally right in my life, and I hated it.

The countess stared at the wall where the non-existent door was supposed to have been for a long moment while the rest of us waited uncomfortably for her to jog her memory as to where we were actually going. A moment later she grinned and smacked her forehead lightly.

“Of course! I was probably looking at it wrong!” Carrisyn grinned. “If I’m right we have to go up one more level.”

“I noticed you said ‘if’,” Alarice noted with displeasure.

“One more level it is, then!” Zelaeryn grinned with wild abandon, relishing the thought of battle. At least one of us is in their element, I moped as we made our way toward the end of the hall.

We hadn’t even made it more than five meters when another knot of shrieking husks emerged from the darkened entryway. Faster than I would have thought possible they were on us, a jumbled mass of blackened limbs and snarling, mewling faces like a writhing, fast-moving wall. Zelaeryn caught the first wave of nightmares solidly, cutting them down like wheat before a scythe.

Even with the first of their number falling the next wave was on the big demon quickly. Only Carrisyn’s fast reflexes and magic saved Zelaeryn from being overwhelmed. A shimmering wall of magic burst to life and no matter how the creatures screamed and struggled they couldn’t seem to break through.

“Back! They’re too strong, I can’t hold it!” Carrisyn gasped, gritting her teeth, the magic needed to maintain the barrier plainly taking a heavy toll on her. We had retreated probably ten meters before the barrier shattered in a flash of light and the nightmares rushed toward us, screaming unintelligibly. Carrisyn sagged and I quickly caught her, easing her down until she was sitting with her back against the wall, breathing heavily and looking pale.

“Come, then!” Zelaeryn yelled in challenge, her blade erupting in flame. A second later a wave of blue flame roared down the hallway, incinerating yet another bunch of creatures. The group behind came on, undeterred. Alarice’s bow sang as her arrows found their marks, husks dropping instantly as the arrows struck home. My daggers weaved and struck like hammers, emerald fire racing along the chains. Again and again they tore into oncoming abominations, flashing and exploding into the black creatures with crushing force before being pulled back and shot back out again, each time seemingly faster than the time before. Ashvallen’s body was obviously finding its pace, and I felt I was simply along for the ride.

The final few reached the giant demon, her white eyes gleamed with otherworldly fire as her sword arced through the air, cutting them cleanly in two. One of the creatures’ torsos, driven by its momentum, continued past Zelaeryn. Slightly off target Alarice’s arrow struck hard, catching it in the face and sending it in a gruesome pirouette. Too late my daggers lanced out, finishing the beast off. We stared at Sascha in anguish, the jagged tears in her shoulder from the beast’s claws already dripping blood.

“What?” Sascha asked in confusion.