Vuroth's Tear: Even the Gods Cry

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A man ran through the woods with great speed and agility, jumping over fallen trees and swinging on branches as he went. A necklace of tiny bird and rodent skulls swayed on his neck as he ran, his bare chest and arms were covered in black runes scarred into the flesh.

He stopped, breathing heavily as he searched for an escape in the early morning light that poked through the thick, leafy treetops. He could hear them as they closed in on him from all directions. He stood and dragged his sharpened thumbnail across his wrist to draw blood. He was catching the dripping blood in his cupped hand when the Husks surrounded him.

They stopped, hissing and growling at him while he continued to gather his blood. The creatures stared at him with empty sockets, clawing at the air and snapping their jaws at him.

"Your spell won't work, Shaman," A voice traveled on the wind. The crowd parted and Tola stepped into the circle, "besides, I'm not here to cause you harm." He waved his hand and the blood evaporated in a red vapor, "Now, what is your name?"

"Dakah," He said, staring in shock at his empty hand and realizing his wound, too, had been healed.

The pale skinned devil smiled, bearing his mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The man was petrified, frozen by fear while Tola stepped closer and traced one of the markings on Dakah's arm with his clawed finger.

"Well, Dakah, I have a proposition for you," Tola brushed his ragged clothes with his palms, "my friends here, they are loyal and effective," He grabbed a Husk by the face and looked at its expressionless, eyeless face before turning his glowing orange eyes back on the Shaman, "but they lack consciousness and the ability to think. I could use some living soldiers in my army."

Dakah spit at Tola, hitting his chest, "I would never help you, demon!" The Husks stood eerily still while Tola brushed the spit and grinned.

"I'll admit, I did expect a similar response. Luckily, I don't need your consent," He grabbed Dakah by the face and threw him to the ground. He forced his sharp talons between Dakah's teeth and forced his mouth open. Smoke began to permeate from Tola and thickened, it took on a life of its own and forced its way down the Shaman's throat. Dakah grabbed his gut in agony while coughing and choking. Tola stood and watched Dakah claw at himself, screaming in pain. It wasn't long before he went limp and laid staring up at the sky as his eyes filled with blackness.

Slowly he rose to his feet and looked at Tola, he dropped to a knee, "Master, how may I serve you?"

Tola gave a devil's grin, "Let us be off, we have much to do."

Aven awoke and looked around the room, it was empty and silent. He grabbed his sword off the floor next to him and stood to stretch. He could hear laughter and the sound of the others outside, so he grabbed the bunched shirt he used as a pillow and threw it over his shoulder before stepping out into the morning sun.

Analda and Donovan sat against the outside wall of the shack talking and laughing as Aven approached, "What sort of crap is he telling you?" He said with a grin. He carelessly dropped Quicksilver at his feet and pulled his shirt over his head.

"I'm just telling her about the night a few days out from Holdaff," He pointed to Aven, "This bastard drank all the wine in about two gulps and while stumbling around camp, he somehow caught his pants on fire. He had to go the next two days and nights in burned pants that covered less than a loin cloth."

Analda and Donovan laughed and Aven sat next to his sword, "You know, I always wondered how I managed not to get burned. Being an Ember Mage answers that question."