Storm of Souls (Book 2 of The Tempest Series)

Chapter 2

Wulfric
He continued to travel through the battlefield upon the back of his stallion as he held several axes in a firm grasp before throwing them towards specified targets with great precision and each time, it met its victim with ease. With the gift he had been blessed with at birth; Wulfric continued to take the lives of his enemies without holding any remorse for their passing. The blood of those that died at his hands, soaked his light coloured hair, giving it a red tinge and splashed against his armour, coating the black plate steel until it reflected the light with a glistening tinge of sanguine.
Snow continued to fall as the sun rose to the highest peak of the sky and the clouds appeared to grow darker with every drop of blood that stained the soil that surrounded his home, the glorious Jotenhall. The bellowing wind grew stronger and carried the sweet yet vial coppery scent to his nose, invading his body and lingering there as it awoke his most basic instincts; smoke rose from the fires that continued to spread over the lands, leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
Bodies fell around him as they were cooked within the metal of their armour and the smell of burning wood grew more potent as the flames licked the wooden spikes that had been placed in a specific way to organise the enemy.
His heart pounded violently against his ribs like a hammer against cloth as the adrenaline continued to course through his warm veins as it ignited something within him that only battle would awaken; the being within, a creature he had always hidden from the prying eyes of his family. The icy wind whipped against his armour and caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on ends as it chilled him to the bone and though it affected his skin, it had no effect upon the performance of his muscles which was something that couldn't be said for those that threatened the safety of his home.
There were reasons as to why the north had often been referred to as a wasteland surrounded by ice and death; it was easy for those born within the lands to deal with the climate however for those that had never grown accustom to it, the lands would prophesied the deaths of those that attempted to steal it from the very god that had created them. A god that only the northerners would pray too and honour; the God of Death.
Yet, though he was surrounded by the death that came interlinked with the being he worshipped, it brought him no fear as he continued to fight against the demons that threatened the lives of those he cared for. As he fought, he thought of the woman he loved and with each memory of her that passed in front of his eyes, he seemed to go stronger in his power in battle; it could have been compared to a beautiful sanguine rose, his memories of her nurtured the flower, allowing it to grow healthy and strong.
He continued to fight when he felt his horse stagger and swiftly, he glanced down to see the arrow that had embedded itself in the horse's chest; another arrow flew through the air and hit the horse beside the first of the arrows.
Hastily, he dismounted from the beauty he had been riding for many years and unsheathed his mighty battleaxe as a third arrow hit his mount and finally, it fell. It's breathing grew laboured as it lay there, awaiting the inevitable death that awaited it and it a swift act of mercy, Wulfric took one of his axes and ended the pain of his most trusted friend. He left the axe in the throat of his friend and made a silent oath to honour her death and sacrifice once the battle had ended.
He used what he had learnt from Jian in his training as he avoided each attack one of the endless horde of demons made. He was biding his time as he waited for the exhaustion to finally take hold of his opponent before he swung his axe and with impeccable speed, he separated the demon's head from his body.
However, as soon as the first foul beast fell a second one dressed in gold and red plate steel took his place and for a moment, it appeared that the endless flood of demons would never end as the gates of the Underworld opened, allowing them to crawl to the lands of the living.
Again, he moved with great speed, using what he had learnt to his advantage as he avoided attacks and blocked them before he would attempt a few of his own. But no matter how many of the creatures he seemed to kill, another swiftly stood in the place of the previous one.
The demons that had risen from the world beyond their own continued to swarm and return to the battlefield; despite his being surrounded by countless piles of bodies, he was forced to continue in the neverending battle.
His muscles began to ache in protest as he began to feel the exhaustion take hold of his body as the day continued to pass. Even though he began to feel tired and struggled to keep his stance, he pressed onward throughout all of it with the thought of Nina and her safety in mind. With great determination, Wulfric forced his muscles to move as he fought against the horde whilst they continued to rise from hell in order to threaten his home.
He knew in his heart that if he were to fail in protecting Jotenhall, the north would be lost to the savages from the east and thus, she would be lost to them. They would take her and he could only assume as to what purpose they had in mind.
He thought of Nina and her smile, remembered the nightmares she had suffered with and finally the first and last kiss they had ever shared. The kiss that appeared to have captured both his heart and his soul so that he was under the spell that was her.
Wulfric moved further through the army of beasts that had escaped through the very the gates of the Underworld when a corpse came into view and he noticed the small axe that had been embedded in the corpses chest.
Swiftly, Wulfric pulled the axe out of the corpse and threw it at an enemy behind before he swung his battleaxe and decapitated yet another demon that had appeared in front of him.
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a beast kicked him in the centre of his spine, forcing him to the ground as the throbbing pain began. Wulfric turned to witness the shimmering light as it caressed the edge of the long blade that belonged to an unusually crafted knife causing it to shimmer like a thousand fireflies. His heart paused for a moment as his grip on his axe grew stronger however he was far from certain as to how he was going to protect himself from the powerful attack of the unearthly creature.
Nina... his mind whispered as he knew that she wouldn't wish for him to surrender so easily; he knew that she would want him to fight until his last breath and he was certain that even then, she would struggle to comprehend his death if he were to perish. His opponent moved with a speed Wulfric could barely believe and for a moment, every memory of his life seemed to flash before his eyes as he became certain that it was the end and he began to hate himself, for he had failed her and broken his own secret oath that was to see her again.
I'm sorry, his thoughts continued to whisper softly as a solemn tear fell down his cheek whilst he felt the cold of the north engulf his heart, extinguishing the warmth that had once been there.
Silently, he wished that he would see her again, hold her close to him once again but it seemed to be an impossible dream, too far from his reach and so, he hoped that if he weren't to see her in the life he lived now, he would see her and hold her again in the next.