Thornblade Chronicles - Volume 1

Chapter 23

Ilkama backed away slowly, watching as Eli held the two swords in hand. Trembling, the Dark Lord tried to get out a few words but failed. While Eli closed the distance between them, Ilkama did all he could to keep his opponent away. Eli glared at the Dark Lord unamused; Ilkama felt the same fear he had once caused.

Eli drew different glyph sequences on the swords. Both chains started with Bursor. On the left blade, which he aimed behind him, he drew Profecti, launching him in Ilkama's direction. On the other, he outlined the crescent-shaped glyph that had taken the lives of two people for whom he cared. "Animetium," Ilkama gasped. As Eli flew through the air, Ilkama's eyes widened, understanding there would be no escape. He sat up in hopes of scrambling away from Eli a little.

Upon landing, Eli jabbed the dark-maroon-colored sword into Ilkama's gut. The entire blade pierced through the king. Ilkama reached for Eli's hands but quickly dropped them to the ground. The Dark Lord coughed up blood but laughed. "You cannot kill me," his voice showed no signs of weakness. "We will sit here all day, and you will be no closer to draining my essence. That is what this glyph does, after all," Ilkama grinned, slowly standing up. "You may wield the Thornblades, some of the strongest weaponry our race has ever created, but I have the lifeforce of a hundred men. I am immortal."

"No, you are not," Eli retorted, activating the new glyph on the other sword and jabbing it beside the first. The Dark Lord desperately gasped for air as his lungs filled with blood. He felt the energy filling his body; Ilkama was not lying. It felt like the strength of a hundred men slowly seeped into his body. He wondered if he could give Albert some of this life essence. Ilkama fell to his knees once more as his breath began weakening. A wave of relief washed over Eli as the battle came to a close.

Ilkama weakly spoke, pausing every few words, "We have been together. Since our youth. How could you fight. Against your own kind? How will you. Survive. Without me?"

"You are not my kind," Eli answered. "You are a monster."

"I was a king," Ilkama yelled, his power weakening. "These people were beneath me. And they are beneath you too. You will discover this should you take my place. I had every right to rule over them, and now you do too. None can stand up to us," Ilkama explained slowly. "With you by my side, we could have been Gods among these people."

"By your side? You took my friends' lives and the lives of countless others. You are a murderer, and I would never side with you."

"I was a soldier," Ilkama spat blood on his sword. "You were too. You killed, just like me. The only difference is our recognition of the power we deserve."

"I will never be like you," Eli said confidently. Though he still had time to ask his questions, Eli grew sick of his conversation. In one fell swoop, he pulled his arms to the slide, slashing Ilkama in two. The man who had manipulated Eli fell to the ground; his lifeless body bled at the foot of the stairs. Eli turned to face the entrance.

As he exited the castle, the Mienard watched as nothing changed. Brainwashed guards still fought against the civilians, though the civilians were more numerous. Though he wondered why they had not returned to normal, everyone who fought by Ilkama's side collapsed. Stepping closer, many citizens watched as the guards' eyes slowly shifted from a deep purple to their original colors. Eli walked up to one such guard and watched the purple turn into a sky blue.

The civilians began cheering as more noticed the change. It did not take long for them to chant Eli's name, many of them naming him the "Hero of Kevras." Eli looked up at them and smiled. Tears streamed down many of their faces as they truly felt free from the great evil that ruled over them for so long.

Eli began crying; he had avoided killing for so long but saw no way to prevent this one. Staring up at the sky, he whispered, "May Goddess Euna protect your soul. Albert. Ilkama." Though he did not fully comprehend what he said, he knew Ilkama—the man who gave him life—had been a believer. Even if it had been for malice, he owed his life to Ilkama.