# An unfinished action-fantasy tale, circa 2015.Chapter One
The sword felt like lead in his hands. His muscles were weak, sore, used up. There wasn’t anything more that he could do. There were just too many.
The demons swarmed around his hardened figure, their red eyes glowing in their pitch black sockets. Waiting, just waiting, for him to drop his guard. They were ugly, twisted creatures, made from shadow and dying souls. Mixed in a cauldron from the pits of the underworld and incubated in the womb of the Dark Mother, they were truly the children of evil incarnate. They were evil incarnate.
Magic could kill them, but he was no magician. His sword, forged by the High Elves, was infused with the pure energy and magic that could kill them, if he managed to cut their twisted heads off. If he did, as he already had with countless others, they would return to shadows with a terrible screech, worse than that of a dying banshee. His ears still rang with the last batch he had slaughtered.
He must have killed a hundred already, but there were still hundreds more. He was alone. The remains of his comrad, now just bones, lay a hundred feet away. Kort’s sword, being of human forgery, did nothing against the armies of the undead. As far as the lone warrior knew, he was the only one for leagues.
A slight breeze rustled the fabric of his shirt, and he spun around just in time to cut the demon’s head off. He watched its eyes dim and he tried to tune out the screech that was impossible to endure. Two more flew at him, their shadowy legs forming into one tail as they rushed him. He growled and side stepped, cutting off the head of one, and waiting for the other to rush him again, anger in its eyes, before cutting off its head as well.
On he went, though he was more tired than he had ever been in all of his days. The air was cold from the numbers of the demons, cold-blooded as they were, but still sweat soaked his shirt, and matted his hair tight to his skull. He was not a sweater, or else the sweat that could have been pouring from his forehead could have been a problem. He thanked his lucky stars for that one stroke of good luck.
The demons, after another hundred of them killed by his sword, seemed to back up a little and consider a new strategy. He howled to the two moons, spurring another large group to rush him. He let the adrenaline guide his actions, trusting his muscles in their memory.
Over the shrieking, he thought he heard another mortal, but he couldn’t be sure. He had no attention to devote to such a frivilous task. Every ounce of concentration and strength he had was spent on trying to stay alive.
After another minute though, he knew what he thought he had heard was correct. He saw a burst of white light from the corner of his eye, followed by tens of shrieks. He smiled wickedly. Anyone who was against these demons was an ally to him. He worked his way slowly towards the almost steady stream of bursts of white light and eventually caught up to who was causing it. He was surprised for a second to see that it was a female, but his mind shifted from it quickly. He went to her, and they stood and circled back to back. She carried a sword as well, a thinner sword than his, but she proved it to be just as deadly. Working together, soon there weren’t many of the Underworld’s children left. The last group of fifty or so seemed wary to approach the pair of warriors. The female smiled from beside him, raising a hand, palm facing towards them. They scattered, but she still killed them with her white light. The last of the shrieks rang in his ears and travelled across the desert plains.
He wiped his sword nonchalantly on his pant legs to clean it, then dropped it in his sheath on his side. Though the demons did not bleed, shadow remains clung to the magic blade. He saw her do the same, then sit down, head in her black-gloved hands. She ran fingers through her raven hair to untangle it. Her hair, like his own, was matted with sweat. He sat down beside her, respecting the silence that she seemed so unwilling to break. His breath still came hard, but after many minutes he brought it back to its normal pace. She kept her face hidden from his, so he didn’t get to see what she looked like. She wore an outfit fairly similar to his own, except she had a vest of light armor on. It looked well made, with gold inlays in the leather. It, too, had shadow remains on it, so he knew it must be infused with magic. She wore bracers above her leather gloves, of the same design as her vest. The sleeve of her deep red shirt was tucked into the bracer. She wore worn black leather boots, and he saw the hilts of throwing knives peeking out of the top of them. Her dark brown cotton pants were tucked into her boots, looking worn in a few places. He could only see her skin on her neck, and that was very pale.
As if feeling his eyes on her, she turned her head ever so slightly to look at him with one golden eye. He grinned a goofy grin at her, and her mouth twitched into a smile. She turned her head more towards him, then her body, so she was facing him. As he had suspected, she was beautiful, with dainty features that he recognized as an elf’s. She opened her mouth a few times as if to speak, then signed something with her hands.
“What?” He asked, puzzled. She did the sign again, but he just shrugged, not understanding. She touched her throat then mimicked coughing. “You lost your voice?” He guessed, and she nodded, looking slightly ashamed. “Well… okay then. I’m Kalaan. Thanks for helping me.”
She smiled and nodded, then came closer. He looked at her warily, but she just touched her lips with a finger then pointed at his ear. Understanding her intent of whispering, he nodded, feeling uneasy and a little excited that she was sitting almost on top of him. She put both hands on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes for a second before coming to his ear and whispering, “I am Myais.”
“I am glad to meet you,” he said in a low voice, smiling. “How did you come here and to my aid?”
“I could hear the shrieks from my home in the forest of Glabar. I came as fast as the wind could carry me.”
“Glabar is leagues away,” he observed casually, looking at her with an appraising eye. She smiled weakly. “You could hear them that far away?”
“I was meditating.” They were quiet for a moment, and then she whispered, “Did you come alone?”
“No,” Kalaan said simply, his heart sinking. “I came with Kort, one of my closest friends. We weren’t prepared. We were just traveling through.”
“To where, may I ask?”
“No where of great importance. We occasionally went on these trips, just to go somewhere, meet new people, and have new experiences. Maybe to train with a new master. Wherever the wind guided us.”
“And now the wind guides him no more,” she whispered solemnly, and he set his mouth into a hard line, knowing there wasn’t even any remains to return to his parents. In order to distract himself, he pulled off his waterskin and offered her some first. She gladly accepted, taking a few gulps before returning it to him. He did the same before recapping it and slinging it back across his torso. “Come home with me, back to the forest of Glabar and to my people. They will want to hear your tale.”
“Will they?” he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her. She smiled again and nodded. “Alright then,” he agreed, standing up and offering her a hand up as well. She took it, standing graciously and then dusting the dirt off of her pants. He walked to where he had seen Kort fall, and searched the area for any remains at all. Not seeing anything, he turned away, but Myais caught his hand and pointed. He squinted, then bent down and brushed the dirt away from the small object.
It was the bracelet his mother had woven for him. It was made of deep blue and orange thread, and he picked it up gingerly, turning it over in his palm and brushing the rest of the dirt from the tight weave. His lips twitched at the edge as he remembered how attached to this bracelet Kort was. He stood, and looked at Myais. “I want to bring it back to his parents,” she nodded in understanding. “But right now will you…?” He held out his wrist, and she nodded, unknotting the knot carefully and placing it around his wrist and retying it. She then placed her hands on either side of his wrist, eyes closing, taking in a deep breath. His wrist became warm, and then he felt a surge of energy and comfort go through him. She took her hands quickly away from him, eyebrows furrowed. “What…” He lifted her chin and she stretched the few inches up to his ear.
“The demons trapped him inside that bracelet.”
“So…?”
“I spoke to him.” She took a second, her golden eyes closing. “Home might be able to solve this problem. I told him so. But he might never be in a body of his own again.”
A grin broke over Kalaan’s face, and he took her face in his rough hands, looking her in her eyes. “Truly?” She smiled briefly, nodded, then her smile faded. “I know.. its a longshot but…”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she whispered. He nodded, then realised how close they were and released her awkwardly.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, but she just smiled quietly and shook her head. She understood his excitement. She started walking across the plain in the direction of her home, and he followed, quickly catching up and walking beside her. His whole body ached as he walked, and he had no interesting scenery to take his mind off of it. So, instead, he just talked. He wanted to tell her the full story.
“We left our town a few weeks ago, just Kort and I. We had horses, of course, but the demons–” He paused and shook his head. She gave him an understanding look. “In any case, we stopped in our normal places, visiting friends and just being rambuncous.” He smiled, ruffling his hair as it began to dry. “We visited some of our old masters, y’know, that taught us the way of the sword and the fist. We had many.
“But the journey didn’t take as long as usual, so we started off into a new direction, one we hadn’t traveled more than once or twice. He observed a structure on the horizon, so he started towards it. As we got closer we realised it was no structure, but masses of the demons from the shadows. Even from a league away we could see their red eyes catch sight of us.” He shrugged. “We did what any good warriors would. We galloped towards them, swords at the ready. I had heard a little about them, but not enough, apparently. I soon learned more than I would have liked, when I realised that only my Elven-forged blade could kill them, and not Kort’s blade.
“There was nothing I could do. He was engulfed by them with no way to fight back. I was engulfed as well, but I fought my way out. My ears are still ringing.” He heard a raspy sound, and he looked towards her, realising that she was giggling. His lips twitched again. “Its not really funny, but I understand. I guess its not really that they’re ringing… its that my brain is still processing it. It seems unreal, and yet so very real, like a bad dream.” He shook his head and looked up at the two moons, the orange moon, the larger, overlapping the smaller yellow moon. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, I know where they came from but…” She nods, so he lets the sentence go unfinished. “I wonder if there’s an opening to the underworld near there or something.”
They walked in silence for a while, until they reached a clump of trees. She started towards it, yawning. It was much past midnight. She laid down in the cool dirt beneath the trees, and was soon asleep. He scowled, taking the duty of keeping watch. He doubted anything would disturb them, but he couldn’t be certain. His mind was too jumbled to sleep in any case. His body was just glad to be sitting. He rested, half watching her and half keeping watch, until the sun rose over the east horizon. He shook her awake gently, and she stirred, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely, revealing a set of pearly white– and very sharp– teeth.
“Good morning, Myais,” he said with a smile. She smiled blearily back and stood, stretching. She then motioned for the waterskin, and he handed it over. She drank about half of the remaining contents, and he drank half of what remained of that.
Rested, she smiled at him and came to him, wrapping her arms around his neck to speak to him in his ear. “Now that I have all my energy restored, I can take us to the forest easily. Put your arms around me,” she commanded, and he complied, wrapping his arms firmly around her. She did the raspy giggle again. “Clear your mind.” He closed his eyes and thought of looking at the night sky, full of stars.
And then he felt like puking.
His stomach lurched, and he released her, turning and throwing up water into the ferns that surrounded the giant trees. He then stood, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Well, he wouldn’t be kissing her for a while. She was just standing there watching him, then she grinned. He scowled at her. “That’s not funny.” She then burst into silent laughter.
Kalaan waited, arms crossed, until she ceased. She did after a minute and apologised, but didn’t stop grinning. She waved a hand for him to follow her, and she was walking quiet as a cat through the trees. He followed, not nearly as silently, but his footsteps were fainter than most. Soon they caught a trail and she followed it. It was a game trail, and not human nor elf made, but she used it none the less. Soon he caught sight of a house situated nestled between the trees. It wasn’t exactly a part of the trees, but it seemed to belong there.
A fox came out and greeted Myais, and Kalaan watched with intrigue as she petted the small creature and then let it inside the house. She waved him inside as well, and he obeyed, shutting the wooden door noiselessly behind him. He took a look around.
The main part of the little house was one open room. To the right was a kitchen, complete with wood stove, and numerous jars full of herbs. In front of him on the far wall was a door leading to what appeared to be her garden. To his left was a fireplace with chairs around it, and bookcases lining the walls. Racks of weapons were wherever books weren’t. To his right, beside the door, was a staircase leading upstairs. He assumed this led to where she slept.
Myais was in her kitchen, brewing tea. She waved him inside, and he sat down at the small table, only two chairs, and observed her. While the tea was brewing she started making a meal. Her fox brought in some vegetables from the garden, which he found fascinating. She promptly washed the produce and cut it up, then added the apples that her fox brought her. The teapot whistled, and she returned her attention to the tea, carefully selecting the herbs. She poured it into two cups and brought them to the table, then went back for the food. He sipped at the tea, finding it good. But then, two days without anything but scanty water will make anything taste good.
She let the hot tea soothe her throat. “That’s better,” she said, and he heard her voice for the first time. “Traveling by wind often robs me of my voice,” she explained sheepishly. “I haven’t worked out how to fix that yet.” Her voice had a magical ring to it, and he grinned stupidly at her for a few seconds.
“I like your voice,” he said simply, and she laughed, her laugh as magical and bell-like as her voice.
“As I like yours, Kalaan.”
They then tucked in hungrily to their food, Kalaan not fully satisfied without meat. His muscles craved the protien. He opened his mouth to say so, but she spoke first. “I know its not much, but it will have to do for now. I didn’t have the energy to go hunt.” He shrugged it away.
“My body is just glad for food,” he said simply, crunching into a slice of apple happily. She smiled at him.
“I am glad to be able to actually speak with you now. When we’re done eating and perhaps have bathed, we should go into town. I have many people that you should meet.”
“Town?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, blinking at him. “By that I mean the Elven town. You know this, right?” She seemed to be asking if he had figured out that she was an elf or not.
“Of course!” he said, a little too loudly than necessary.
“Y’know… I’m only half-elf right? That’s why I live by myself and not in the town.”
“Is there a rule?”
“No, but I have no family there, though yeah, technically they are all my family, but you get my meaning…” She trailed off, and was silent for a minute. “My mom was an elf, from here. My father was a human, like you are. They were both killed by a spiritholder.”
Kalaan took in a sharp breath and muttered condolences. She shrugged lightly.
“You will hear similar stories from many in the town. Quite a few have plagued this forest for a while. We kill them, but more always come.”
“Leeches never cease to amaze me,” he snapped, resisting the urge to spit on her floor. If he was outside, he would have. The word tasted like vile in his mouth.
“Yes,” she agreed, looking out of one of her windows. “Well, let us pump some water to get cleaned up.”
Though the water was cold, it still felt good to clean away the stickiness of his sweat. It did nothing for his aches and his sore muscles, but he hadn’t thought that it would. Soon he was redressed, his hair quickly air-drying. It fell in a shaggy lump to his ears, but he combed it back from his forehead with his fingers. It didn’t comply, but fell limply back in place. He scowled.
While Myais was washing, he browsed through her books that lined her walls, curious. A lot of the books were about herbalism, magic and the like. There were quite a few bestiaries and encyclopedias, along with dictionaries. He took a bestiary from the shelf and looked up ‘demon.’ He scanned the pages, but didn’t find anything he didn’t already know. He knew how they were created, how to kill them, definitely how they looked… but it mentioned nothing of how they get from the Underworld to the living plane. Frowning, he closed it abruptly and put it back into its place on the shelf. He opened two more bestiaries, but neither held any more answers. Sighing, he abandoned the task and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the empty fireplace, staring into the smoke-dyed bricks as if they could give him the answers he sought.
Kalaan turned at the faint sound of footsteps down the stairs. Myais appeared, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. She had washed her vest of the shadow gunk, and her shirt was now a deep green instead of the red. Her hair shone in the morning light, small braids adorning it. She smiled at his satisfied expression. “The last thing to do, I believe, is to give our swords a proper cleaning.” She walked towards one of the racks of her weapons, and he followed. She pulled from a drawer a cleaning cloth and some oil and powder. She tapped the powder along her blade, wiping it down and then spreading the oil over it, sheathing it again. He did just as she had done, knowing without knowing that these cleaning means were a way to remove all the magic… remnants.
She inspected his blade, then handed it back to him, satisfied. He sheathed it at his waist and then stood, stretching as she put away the cleaning supplies. She then motioned towards the door and he followed her out into the sunlight.
Chapter Two
It was just nearly midday, and so through the trees, directly above them, shone the hot sun with such radiance that he forgot about his recent adventure for that split second. And then he looked down again and all of it came flooding back, especially when he looked at Myais. Images of her sword becoming a blur in midair as it caught the neck-like structures of the demons, her beautiful features twisting as she turned and delivered another ferocious blow.
Kalaan shook his head free of such thoughts. He would be thinking of it plenty pretty soon, and he would save it for then. She gave him an odd look, and started walking down a path that was still small, like a game trail at first. For about a half a mile it dissappeared entirely, and though he felt uneasy, she didn’t waver her footsteps any. When the path appeared again, it was thick, though there were weeds growing where the dirt wasn’t entirely pounded flat. He could easily have fit his chestnut down this path. She followed it with the ease of having walked it hundreds of times; after a few minutes she began to hum a tune that he didn’t recognize, but he fell in love with it almost immediately.
Well past midday he caught sight of the town through the trees. The houses and buildings, like Myais’s house, was built so that it fit in perfectly with the surrounding landscape. As they came closer, he began to wonder if the houses were actually a part of the trees, instead of being built conveniently around the trees. He marveled and pondered this, wondering how it was done, before deducing that it was probably some kind of Elven magic. By that time they were in the town, and the elves began to come out curiously at his very obvious outsider appearance. He suddenly felt very self-conscious about his stockiness, how very human he looked. Myais looked almost human, except for her pointed ears and her general grace and beauty. She was just as tall as Kalaan was, and he was tall for a human. The other elves were as tall as he was or taller; he wasn’t used to looking up at anyone. He noticed that they all were dressed in simplistic clothing, at least all of them within the town itself. The watch, he noticed, was dressed similar to Myais, with light armor on. Their weapons included, as far as he could deduce, a bow with a quiver of arrows and a sword for close combat. He saw no blunt weapons, like an axe or a hammer, which he thought was odd. Surely in this large group of Wood Elves there would be one that favoured an axe to a sword. But he saw none.
Some of the elves called a greeting to Myais, which she returned with a smile. Soon they had reached the center of the town and Myais took his hand and climbed up onto the edge of a statue of a group of deer that stood there. He was dragged along, and some of the elves came over curiously.
“Good Elves, my brothers and sisters of the Forest of Glanbar, my companion and I have slain just this past day a group of no less than five score demons! The very children of the Evil Mother herself! We slayed them, and their shadow blood wet our blades!” She pulled her sword from its sheath and held it in the air. It glinted in the sunlight. He swallowed hard and did the same, holding it above his head.
“My name is Kalaan,” he said in a voice just as loud as her own. “I came across the army of Demons with my horses and my very good friend, who was shortly murdered by the army in front of my own eyes. I now carry his soul in his only surviving possession.” He sheathed his sword and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the bracelet that Kort resided in. The humming of whispers that had been circulating through the entire town quieted to an awed silence. All eyes were on him and on his wrist. He took in a deep breath. “I want to know if any of you would know how…” Words failed him, and he looked at Myais.
“To return him to a body of his own,” she said for him, looking at him as well. She sheathed her own sword and took his wrist, touching the bracelet lightly. “He was his brother, just like all of you are my siblings. Please, if there is a way, he would appreciate it– we would appreciate it.” Silence followed.
Suddenly the crowd parted and a triangle of three elves came towards them. Unlike the other elves, the elf taking point was wearing a deep green robe, while the ones behind him were both in satiny, expensive-looking clothing. They were long billowing shirts with long sleeves, belted, and pairs of tight fitting brown leather pants that seemed to fade flawlessly into boots. Their hair was braided extravagantly.
The male elf in front stopped right below them, and Myais bowed awkwardly down at him. There was a frown on his face. “Myais. What is the meaning of this?”
“We have come to tell the tale of how we slayed five score demons.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Demons? Where?”
“The plains,” Kalaan said quietly, squatting to look down at the new elf. “To the south of here. My friend and I ran across them by accident. He was killed. He is trapped in this bracelet.” He held up the bracelet once more. “Myais came. She saved my life. Without her I wouldn’t have had enough strength to kill them all. I had killed nearly two score when she showed up.”
“When?”
“Last night,” Myais piped in, taking his lead and squatting beside him. “We slept in a clump of trees and I brought him back to my house at dawn. There we cleaned up and then came here.”
The elf frowned at them both. “This does not bode well.”
“No, it doesn’t, Elder,” she said softly.
“We need to inform all the cities of this. You two must go and do this. While you spread the word and urge caution, we will research how to release a trapped soul.” He said it in such a matter of fact way that Kalaan couldn’t even think of refusing.
“Of course, Elder.” Myais bowed again awkwardly to him, and Kalaan copied her before the Elder walked away, the other two elves behind him. He jumped down to the ground, and a second later she landed beside him. She then breathed out a long, deep sigh. “We will rest here for today, and leave in the morning I suppose.” He nods in agreement, looking out at the now dwindling crowd. The elves walking away kept on glancing back with admiration in their eyes. He found his cheeks warming. “Come,” she says softly, taking his hand again and leading him down the street. They come into a small little restaurant, and are greeted as the owner comes in from outside, presumably just having heard their story.
“Midday sun,” the elf said with a smile, his eyes wide. He was dressed in simple clothes, covered mostly by an apron. His feet were bare. “My name is Thano, owner of ‘Mitos’ Grub.’” He grins. “I know who you two are, and am happy to serve you, Myais and Kalaan.”
Kalaan looked across the table sharply at Myais, but she just gave a light shrug. Was she used to this kind of treatment? “Bring us something to warm our bellies,” she requested softly, and Thano bowed lightly, still smiling, and scurried off.
“You enjoy this.”
“Not particularly,” she countered quickly. “But they needed to know what was going on. I could think of no better way to make sure all the elves knew than that way. The Elders…” she lowered her voice and leaned across the table at him. He leaned in as well. “Sometimes keep things from their people. They don’t understand the right for all people to have access to any knowledge they choose.”
Toro Tokuda 