Beyond the Rabbit Hole

Chain Reaction

Black flames coiled around the mast of the sunken ship, searing the rotten wood as it dragged every splattered drop of blood back to Morgyn's corpse.

Remiel jumped back several paces, the smoldering fire captured the light drops of blood that speckled his dreadmetal armor, and the thick layer of gore coating his flail, pulling it back to the corpse while the circle of writhing black flames condensed into Morgyn's body.

Slowly, like a creeping ooze, the flames washed over the corpse. Morgyn's wounds disappeared as the flame condensed further until only his head remained. The fire pulsed and undulated around the tip of his neck for a few seconds before rapid expansion—an explosion that sent reverberations through the air. And when the flame cleared, Morgyn's head sat where it was supposed to.

Remiel held his gauntlet out in front of his helmet's visor as the explosion rattled the ground and sent chills through his armor. The heat vanished instantly, leaving behind a scent even the dreadknight couldn't recognize. "Now that's a funny trick," Remiel chuckled. "It's my lucky day—perhaps I won't be scolded after all."

Morgyn's eyes opened slowly. He forced himself to his feet, unsteady and dizzy. A burning fog filled his mind, and the dreadknight's words were lost in the haze. Morgyn's eyes narrowed at the black streak slowly coming into focus. One hand gripped his sword firmly. The other searched for the dagger, slowly curling its fingers around the hilt once the blade was found.

"I'm glad you're alive, truly," Remiel breathed a sigh of relief. "I confess my curiosity may have gotten the better of me this time, but I will surely hold my impulses back from now on." The dreadknight spoke sincerely. "Could you forgive me? That trick just now, I'm curious how it-"

The time for negotiating was over. Morgyn dashed forward at a speed he'd never known before, his blade aiming for the space beneath the dreadknight's helmet.

Remiel lowered his head and quickly deflected the attack with a swing of his flail, and when Morgyn's dagger rushed toward the opening in his visor, all it took was a flick of his wrist, and the flail deflected that, too.

Morgyn gritted his teeth in frustration, collecting himself before stabbing again. Each time, his strikes were repelled with evident ease. He stepped back to catch his breath, his heart beating erratically. My body feels lighter for some reason. . . but it still isn't enough!

"Morgyn. . ." Remiel shook his head. "I understand you're angry, but do you know what it is you're doing?"

"Don't waste your breath!" Morgyn spat. "You can't trick me again. I know your comrades are attacking my companions."

Remiel hesitated. He raised his hand as if he was going to say something, then stopped. He slowly lowered his hand while a low chuckle, almost like a growl, escaped his mouth. "And what are you going to do about that?"

"You can kill me a dozen or a hundred times, I. . . I don't care!" Morgyn's voice wavered. "But I will get through you and get back to Alyss. No matter what it takes." His last words drifted off like a whisper, as he readied his sword for another strike.

Remiel held his hand over his visor as he burst into laughter. "Good. Good! So, I don't need to worry about killing you again? That's perfect. I will answer your challenge, Morgyn, and kill you a dozen—no, a hundred times. I'll kill you until you kiss the tips of my boots and beg me to stop!" Remiel lunged forward with an overhead swing.

Morgyn barely had time to block it. When the flail's first ball head collided with his sword, it sent shockwaves down his body, rattling his bones. But the second wasn't caught at all. On a chain around two inches shorter than the first, the second ball head continued downward, scraping Morgyn's fingers as it fell.