Soul Eater

SOUL EATER

by Elle Lewis

Warrick's boots punched through the snow. He was used to the cold, but this was nearly intolerable. The wind felt like a promiscuous woman, reaching past his furs and leather vest, touching his skin with icy fingers. Frost clung to his long blonde hair and beard. His hair was elaborately braided, in the traditional way of his people. He frowned, sure icicles were forming along the strands.

He trudged on, tightening the strap on his shield. It hung from his left arm, a circular mass of thick wood and steel. Warrick also carried a large double-sided axe, strapped to his back. The combination of the two were a comforting weight, something familiar in an unfamiliar country.

The incline of the land began to elevate. He and his party carefully trekked uphill, forging through the thick snow. The surrounding forest was unnervingly silent. No birds. No rustle of creatures within the brush. Warrick wondered what kind of place had no living creatures within it. He studied the four people walking in a single file line in front of him. They were a fucking odd group, if he ever did see one.

Gwendolyn, the leader, was wrapped in a green cloak, her leather boots poking through the thick folds in regular intervals as she led the party on. Her hair was black but shaved to the scalp on one side. The rest of the ebony mass was braided tightly to her head. Her brown eyes were lined in kohl, giving her beauty an edge of fierceness.

Behind her was Mpho. He was well over six feet, with skin the color of cinnamon. His black hair fell like silk to his shoulders, the elaborate golden tattoos on his muscled body marking him as a clansman from Kara-Ordos. It was a place far from here, a country of desserts and tropical jungles. Warrick knew little about the people from that region of the world, but great tales have a way of travelling no matter the distance of their origin. The clansman of Kara-Ordos were rumored to be great fighters, some of the best in the known world.

The other two, Aiguo and Lin, were an absolute mystery to Warrick. Neither of them had uttered a word in his presence. They both remained huddled deep within in their hooded black cloaks. All Warrick could see of them were thin lips, caramel skin, and the hint of gold eyes. Strange letters were threaded along the hems of their robes in yellow, characters that made Warrick wary. He recognized them as symbols of magic. It marked the two silent figures as mages, but from where? If Gwendolyn had taken the trouble to acquire a soldier all the way from Kara-Ordos, where the hell had she dredged up these two?

"I thought this was an assassination attempt on your queen," Warrick asked, his breath billowing on the frigid air.

Gwendolyn stopped, halting the group. She turned, anger crackling in her eyes. "She is not our queen."

Warrick nodded, "Aye. A technicality. She has in fact taken over your land, and the Northern stronghold of Akranes."

          "Do you have a question, soldier?" Gwendolyn asked.

          "More of an observation," Warrick said.

          Mpho laughed, his voice a thunderous boom in the still forest. "The Dunedin savage has an observation."

           "We are approaching the castle head on," Warrick continued, ignoring the slight. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

          Gwendolyn bristled. "I am not paying you to question my decisions. I am paying you to kill a target."

          Warrick held his ground. "You posed this mission as an assassination. You either misrepresented the objective or you have zero tactile skills."

          Her nostrils flared. "Keep going," she barked at the other three. "I need to have a word with our Dunedin savage."

          Mpho chuckled, "My lady. Come on you two." Mpho continued up the snowy hill, with Aiguo and Lin trailing behind.

          Gwendolyn quickly made her way down the incline, stopping mere inches in front of Warrick.

          "Don't ever question my decisions in front of my team again," she said through bared teeth.

          "Gladly," Warrick said. His voice was a gravelly rumble, as if the stones of the earth were being rubbed together. "First, cut the bullshit and tell me what we're really doing on this mountain. I can't be effective if you aren't straight with me."

          Gwendolyn exploded out of the snow like a leopard. She threw her arm across his neck and shoved Warrick back, slamming him into a tree. "What do you know about Komi-Okrug, foreigner? Your people hide in the forests of your tiny green isle, oblivious to the troubles of the world."

          Warrick held still, letting her talk.

"I pegged you for a Dunedin savage as soon as you stepped off the boat onto our docks." Gwendolyn went on. "Your axe and embroidered leather tunic told me all I needed to know about you. A King's guard, a member of his elite Munin. You spent your life fighting for him, defending his borders. And he exiled you, shipped you off like cattle. Let me guess, the King finally asked for something you weren't willing to give?" Gwendolyn smiled. "Was she pretty? Do you think she wept in his chambers, when he finally took her?"

Warrick growled, the truth of her words hitting their mark within his heart like a flamed arrow. He grabbed a fistful of her cloak and yanked Gwendolyn forward. He shifted his weight, twisting as he pulled, so that he came around her. He roughly shoved her into the tree, wrenching her arm behind her back. Gwendolyn struggled, but Warrick increased the pressure on her arm. She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"And what about you?" Warrick said. "Your rage. I've seen it before. It's fueled by a need for justice, for retribution. It has made you irrational. Who did the queen take from you? Your brother? A sister? Or did she kill your whole goddamn family?"

Gwendolyn kicked off from the tree with a snarl and then threw her head back. Her skull connected with his nose with a loud crack. Warrick released her arm as blood gushed from his nostrils. Gwendolyn elbowed him in the gut.

"Omph!" he grunted, staggering backwards.

She spun, facing him. "You're a bastard."

He wiped the blood from his face, smiling. "And you're a crazy bitch."

Gwendolyn regarded him silently for several moments, debating. She had wanted to tell the foreigner as little as possible about the mission. Unfortunately, the savage was smarter than he looked. She couldn't risk him backing out. Gwendolyn needed him. She needed all of them if she was to stand a chance against Rosamond.

"It is an assassination. I did not lie to you. But instead of quiet infiltration, we are approaching the front gate," she said.

Warrick gripped his leather vest, the blood already dried on his beard. "Why?"

"It's the only way we can get close to her…to gain an audience within her chambers."

"And how will you be granted audience?" Warrick asked. "If what you say about Rosamond is true, she will kill all of us on sight."

"We have something she wants," Gwendolyn answered reluctantly.

"Go on."

Gwendolyn sighed. "I've said too much already."

"You're just getting to the good part. Spit it out woman, or I walk."

"What about your gold?"

"Walking into danger without all the facts isn't worth any amount of gold. Sorry," Warrick said.

She gritted her teeth, furious that this Dunedin savage was forcing her to spill her one and only advantage. "We have the Orb of Tchogha. It is a magical artifact. One that will allow her other sisters to enter this realm."

Warrick digested that for a long moment. Rumors had reached Dunedin, tales of a demon that had descended on Komi-Okrug, taking the throne and eating the souls of the people. Warrick was a logical man. He knew that descriptions of rulers were always embellished, especially the ones with brutal tendencies. However, he also had knowledge of the magics, the existence of other realms. The 'unseen' as he called it.

"What is she?" he asked.

Fear crept into Gwendolyn's face, and her self-assurance and strength that was always held so firmly in place wavered. "I don't know."

"And this orb…it sounds like bad things will happen if she gets her hands on it," Warrick said.

"She won't. That's why I need you. Mpho. Aiguo and Lin. The orb is just our way in."

"That's risky."

"It's all we have," Gwendolyn said. "She is nearly untouchable. It's the only way."

Warrick studied her, recognizing the things he saw in her kohl lined eyes. Loss. Anger. The call to protect loved ones from the evil of the world. Warrick knew what it felt like to fail. He hadn't been able to save Kara, his soul, his reason for breathing. Her hair like newly sprouted wheat, and eyes the color of a clear sky. The pain of being separated from her was a thorn in his heart, a constant torment.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go."

Warrick turned and started trekking back up the hill.

Gwendolyn jogged after him, soon coming abreast of him.

"That's it? Fine, lets go?" she asked.

Warrick shrugged. "Like you said, I've been exiled. I'm a savage, in a foreign land. Seems silly to turn away a good paying job. Despite how ass backwards it seems. Although I would appreciate you being upfront with me from here on out."

"Agreed. But there are some things that you must see to believe," Gwendolyn said.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll explain on the way," Gwendolyn said.

Warrick and Gwendolyn walked side by side, quickly catching up to the others. The sun crawled slowly towards the horizon as the team hiked through the snow. A light snow began to fall as the shadows lengthened. Darkness crept into the sky, like an outstretched hand snuffing out the light.

*

Castle Akranes rose in the distance, flanked by jagged mountains. The castle was composed of black stone, with numerous windows and twisted spires. Moonlight fell across the castle, bathing it in silver light. But instead of illuminating the dark edifice, the moonlight created more shadows, as if the light itself wanted to crawl away from the evil lurking inside.

        Warrick whispered a silent prayer to his gods, wishing he hadn't thrown away the wooden totem's that normally rested in his breast pocket. He had tossed them into the sea after being exiled from Dunedin. Surely, the gods despised him. They had taken the one and only thing he loved. Warrick had fought to protect Kara, openly defying his King. To what end? She had still slipped through his fingers and he had been whipped in the public square and thrown onto the next ship sailing to Komi-Okrug. He had lost everything. His woman. His country. His very place in the world.

        Still, he couldn't stop the prayer resting on his lips. Warrick could feel the evil emanating from the castle. It was like thick oil hanging on the air. Gwendolyn had filled him in on a few details. A tempest of disbelief, fear, and anticipation thundered inside his chest. His fingers twitched, wanting the cool steel of his axe.

          Gwendolyn raised her fist, halting the group. "Here."

          She motioned to an outcropping of rock that was surrounded by a cluster of rowan trees. They gathered behind the trees, forming a semi-circle around Gwendolyn.

          "Remember," Gwendolyn said. "Do not let the appearance of her soldiers fool you. They are strong and inhumanly fast. When we approach the gate, they will surround us immediately. Remain still and silent. Under no circumstances are you to draw your weapons. Her first in command, Gael, will most likely accompany her forces. No one speak to him. Either I or Aiguo are to answer his questions. Understood?"

          The group nodded their agreement.

          "Our only prayer of survival is that she wants the orb more than she wants us dead," Gwendolyn continued. "As soon as she has it in her hands, that is your cue Mpho. I want you and Warrick to attack, without hesitation. Dismember her and burn the body. We will retreat through one of the rear windows. I have repelling equipment attached to my waist. If I go down, someone will need to take it to get the others out."

          "Is it really necessary to dismember her?" Warrick asked.

          "Yes, it's necessary," Gwendolyn said.

          "Well shit. Alright then," Warrick said. "Let's add dismemberment to this evening's events. And how do you expect us to get through the gates armed?"

          "Aiguo and Lin, go ahead," Gwendolyn said.

          The mages moved forward, simultaneously lowering their hoods. Aiguo placed himself in front of Gwendolyn, and Lin stood before Mpho. It was the first time Warrick had seen their faces. Their beauty was stunning. They were male and female twins, with hair whiter than the snow. Intricate turquoise tattoos arched above their delicate eyebrows, framing their golden eyes.

          Aiguo and Lin reached into their robes, their movements perfectly in sync. They pulled out two small wooden bowls, removing the lids. Inside lay a fine crystalized powder. It sparkled in the moonlight. Aiguo and Lin began chanting, dipping their fingers into the fine powder.

          Warrick felt the air around him change. It became heavier, dense, crackling with magic.

          "What the hell is this?" Warrick said.

          "Shut it savage," Gwendolyn said. Her eyes were closed, her body still. "You want to take your weapons inside, don't you?"

          Warrick shifted in the snow, uncomfortable. He knew enough about magic to know that he didn't want it done on himself. Warrick grunted as a response.

          Aiguo and Lin touched their powdered fingers to Gwendolyn and Mpho's collarbones, drawing the powder across their skin. Their chanting increased, filling with authority. Warrick couldn't understand the words, but he could feel them. They swirled around his body, and invisible force of power, making the hair on his arms stand on end. Gwendolyn's sword that was poking out of her cloak began to glow. Warrick's eyes widened. Mpho's scythe did the same, the sharp metal becoming bright like a star in the night sky. And then, both weapons disappeared with a pop.

          Gwendolyn opened her eyes and looked down to where her sword had been just a moment ago. She grinned. "Well done."

          Aiguo inclined his head. Lin stepped away from Mpho and moved towards Warrick.

          He backed up. "Woa Woa, hang on a minute."

          "Relax Warrick," Gwendolyn said. "Nothing will happen to your precious axe. It's an illusion. One that will wear off by morning."

          Lin looked up at him, her golden eyes mesmerizing. She said something in another language and slowly raised her hands, stopping inches from his chest.

          "Let her do it, Warrick," Gwendolyn demanded.

          Warrick looked down at Lin. She was incredibly attractive, with a delicate beauty that was almost too fragile for this world. Warrick instinctively wanted to protect her.

          He sighed. "Go on then."

          Lin moved his vest aside, resting her fingers along his skin.

          "Wait, Wait," Warrick said. He placed his hands in-between his legs, covering himself. "Alright, now I’m ready."

          Gwendolyn rolled her eyes. "She's not going to make your dick disappear you idiot."

          Warrick shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

          Lin began chanting. Her words spun around Warrick, warming the air. He closed his eyes, praying once more to his forgotten gods. Lin's voice increased in volume, the spell rising on the air. Warrick felt the slightest movement on his back and left arm, and then he heard a distinct snap.

He opened his eyes and sucked in a breath. "Holy fuck."

His shield was nowhere in sight, but he could still feel the weight of it on his arm. Warrick glanced over his shoulder. His axe had also disappeared yet the solid form of it pressed along his back.

"Let's move out," Gwendolyn said.

Lin smiled and then pulled her hood over her eyes. She returned to her place beside Aiguo. The twin mages followed Gwendolyn, their footsteps punching into the snow in perfect unison.

Mpho glanced over his shoulder and said, "Come on savage. We've got an evil bitch to kill."

Warrick adjusted the position of his now invisible shield and followed Mpho. The powder along his collarbones prickled, like insects crawling across his skin. He shook his head a little. Missions and magic, he mused. It was either brilliant or incredibly stupid. The magics were unpredictable. Forces that held a will of their own. Warrick hoped the two mages had control of their skill.

He picked up his pace, eager to get this over with. The sooner he killed whatever needed killing, he could travel South. Far from the obvious madness going on in the North. Start over. Maybe buy an inn. Warrick could brew a decent ale. A little bitter maybe, but hearty all the same.

The castle was now directly in front of them. Warrick watched as movement erupted on the battlements. They had been spotted.

                                                *

As predicted, Rosamond's forces rushed through the front gate and surrounded the small group. Warrick stared into the opaque eyes of her soldiers, astonished. The men and women in front of him were very obviously dead and in varying levels of decay. Some simply had gray skin, sapped of life and color. Others were rotting, strips of flesh handing from lopsided jaws, bones and muscles exposed. Warrick had seen his fair share of pink insides. It was one thing to witness it on the battle field. This on the other hand was like a tale out of a twisted fairytale.

Rosamond's army of the dead wore no armor, only tattered clothing. They were however brandishing weapons, which were all pointed at Gwendolyn and her small band of warriors. The sensation of evil Warrick had felt earlier returned, but now it was incredibly potent. The presence of dark magic clung to the air, the scent like burning sulfur. It wafted from the dead army, so strong his nostrils burned. Warrick balled his hands into fists, the urge to grab his axe overwhelming.

"Stay still and calm," Gwendolyn whispered to Warrick.

"Fucking easier said than done," Warrick shot back, also whispering.

"I told you about them Warrick," Gwendolyn said quietly.

"People say a lot of things," Warrick responded. "Your queen eating the souls of the living and then reanimating the bodies is not something a man can easily digest. No pun intended."

"Shut up, he's coming," she said.

A man strode forward from the castle, his dark robes billowing. He was deathly pale, with clear blue eyes and long black hair. One word entered Warrick's mind at the sight of him…snake.

The man extended his hands in a welcoming gesture. "Friends, loyal subjects of Queen Rosamond, the immortal, the inexorable, the goddess of darkness. Are you here to serve her? Brave tributes! Offering yourselves so willingly. To join her army is to have a taste of her power, of her immortality." He smiled. "Come in from the cold, we will prepare you as a worthy offering."

Gwendolyn dipped her head in a sign of respect. "We are not here as offerings, Gael. We seek audience with the Queen."

The smile disappeared from his face. "To not offer yourself to the Queen is a most egregious act of treason."

The army of dead took several steps forward, their sharpened weapons held at the ready.

Gwendolyn held up her hands. "Hear us Gael. We mean no ill will. Please listen-"

Gael cut her off, his eyes hardening. "No ill will! You approach with a warrior from Kara-Ordos and expect me to believe you?" His voice raised, becoming nearly hysterical, his face twisted with rage. "Do you think I am a fool!! Do you think I cannot see through your lies! Two mages are in your party! And a Dunedin Munin!! Foul beasts! You will pay! You will burn!"

The army of the dead advanced, their weapons mere inches from the band of warriors. Warrick steadied himself, ready to fight, eager to see the blade of his axe hack through decaying flesh.

"We have the Orb of Tchogha!" Gwendolyn shouted.

Gael held up a hand, halting the army. "The Orb?"

"Yes," she said. "Just as her majesty wanted. When she demanded-"

"Graciously asked," Gael corrected.

"When she graciously asked," Gwendolyn continued. "That her subjects find it and bring it to her, I took it upon myself to accept the mission. The mages have great knowledge of the orb. I needed them to obtain it. And the two Warriors accompanied me on the journey, for my own protection. The orb was in a distant land, and the road was dangerous."

Gael studied Gwendolyn for several moments. Finally, he said, "Give me the Orb. I will deliver it to our Queen and the five of you will offer yourselves to her. My lady is hungry."

"That is not possible," Aiguo said. His voice was calm, holding the thick accent of his country. "The five of us were present when we plucked the orb from its resting place. It is bound to us. I must perform a ritual, in order to untangle it from our essence. These magics run deep my friend. From a time that has long since passed. It is the only way."

Gael clapped his hands and began laughing. "How delightful! I love magic. You shall perform the ritual immediately, in the throne room. The Queen will be ecstatic!" He rubbed his hands together, grinning wildly. "Come along. I will bring you to her. The Orb of Tchogha! Finally. I hope its shiny."

Warrick worked to keep his expression blank. This man was fucking insane. He would need to be put down quickly.

The army of the dead formed two organized lines, and marched back into the castle. Gael led them through the gates, chatting amicably with Aiguo about the nature of magic.

Warrick came up behind Gwendolyn.

"I thought you said we needed to be in her chambers," he whispered.

"As long as there is a window, we will be fine. Now shut it, savage," she whispered back.

Warrick grunted, studying the surrounding castle. As they walked through dimly lit stone corridors, Warrick memorized the layout, taking note of the exits. By the time they reached the doors leading to the throne room, he had already planned out several exit strategies, prioritizing them in his mind as most likely to survive to we are going to fucking die.

The doors leading to the throne room were composed of dark wood and metal spikes. Two massive guards stood in front of them. The guards were also reanimated corpses, with opaque eyes, but their skin looked almost normal. Warrick guessed they were recently killed.  

Gael paused in front of the guards.

"Please open your robes and lift your arms," Gael instructed. "No weapons are permitted within the throne room."

Gwendolyn and her small band of warriors did what they were told. Warrick raised his left arm well above his head, ensuring his shield was well out of the way. The two guards inspected each member of their party. Satisfied, the animated corpses nodded and then opened the doors.

Gael eagerly stepped across the threshold. Gwendolyn walked behind him, followed by the two mages, and then Mpho. Warrick brought up the rear. The throne room was dark and cold, the walls comprised of smooth stone. Nothing hung on the walls. It was an empty place, hollow. It reminded Warrick of a tomb. Torches hung from the walls, the light weak. The flames flickered, sputtering, as if they couldn't bare to exist in a place so bereft of life.

Gael sank into a dramatic bow. "My Queen. I present to you the Lady Gwendolyn and her band of noble warriors! They have travelled far and wide to deliver the Orb of Tchogha! It is my greatest honor to bring them before you, Queen Rosamond, the immortal, the inexorable, goddess of darkness!"

Gwendolyn and the others fanned out in a line in front of the throne.

Warrick immediately noticed two things and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from cursing aloud. One, there were no windows anywhere within the room. And two, the person sitting on the throne was a small child.

*

Warrick wished he was standing beside Gwendolyn. He wanted to grab her and shake her until an explanation fell out of her mouth. Queen Rosamond couldn't be older than eight years old. She sat upon the throne, a perfectly crafted porcelain doll. The child was dressed in a long gown of fine black silk, overlaid with white lace. Her auburn hair tumbled to her waist in a precious display of soft curls. And her eyes, a vibrant green that sparkled with innocence. Her small lips were pink, the color of fresh strawberries.

Queen Rosamond smiled, her voice a delicate bell. "Can it be? Has the Orb finally found its way home?"

Gael straightened, and approached the throne. "Yes, my Queen." He knelt, gazing up at her like a dog begging for praise.

Queen Rosamond trailed a finger along the side of his face. "Do you know what this means Gael? The rest of my sisters can finally be free. We shall bring them to us, and this world will be ours."

Gael's pupils dilated and his breath hitched.

"When they are here, I will no longer have need of you," Rosamond said. "I shall make you immortal. You will join my army. You would like that wouldn't you, Gael?"

Gael nodded. "Very much so, my Queen."

Warrick's stomach turned. Dark magic surrounded the child like a shroud. It emanated from her in hot waves, as if Warrick were standing before a raging fire. Rosamond was evil. That was clear. But did Gwendolyn expect him to sink his axe into a child? Warrick balled his hands into fists, furious.

Rosamond turned her gaze to the five warriors. She examined each of them individually, silently assessing them. When her eyes fell on Warrick, he felt a thin trail of heat streak down his face and neck, as if a hot tongue were licking his skin.

Her eyes went back down the line, finally stopping on Aiguo. Her expression flattened, and her voice changed, becoming wider, amplifying until it filled the chamber and echoed off the walls. "Give it to me, warlock."

Aiguo lowered his hood and raised his chin. "Yes, your highness."

Warrick glanced at Gwendolyn, trying to get her attention. But Gwendolyn's eyes were trained ahead, her jaw set in a firm line.

Aiguo drew a piece of chalk from his robes. "May I?"

Rosamond nodded her consent.

Aiguo knelt and began drawing upon the stone floor. The white chalk scraped across the stone. He drew a perfectly crafted circle and then filled it with symbols. Aiguo started chanting. The language was harsh, the syllables short and abrupt. An ancient tongue. Gael stood and placed himself beside the throne, his eyes wide with excitement.

Magic exploded on the air, producing a gust of wind that swirled through the room. The wind churned in wide circles, gradually tightening until it funneled around Aiguo. His hair flew wildly around his face, his voice rising in a powerful boom of authority as the spell reached its peak. The wind converged, slamming into the circle of chalk. The wind snapped out, leaving behind a small shining ball of light within the circle. The Orb of Tchogha was the color of water, a deep blue, with shafts of light shimmering inside.

Rosamond leaned forward, her face filling with desire. "Bring it to me."

Aiguo gathered the orb into his hands and walked forward.

Warrick shifted, again trying to catch Gwendolyn's eye. She was still looking forward, but now her hand was resting on her hip, on the hilt of her invisible sword. Warrick looked to Mpho. His hand was also on his waist, gripping his scythe.

Warrick could feel the tension of battle approaching, the promise of violence. He had only moments to decide. His gaze returned to the child on the throne.  

Aiguo stood before Rosamond. He extended his hands, offering her the Orb. Queen Rosamond rose from the throne, her small delicate fingers reaching for it.

And then, two things happened at the same time. Mpho shot forward without warning, like a spring that had been released. He rushed towards Rosamond, his arm raised. In the same moment, Aiguo uttered a series of words and the orb disappeared form his hands with a snap.

Rosamond screamed. Her green eyes flicked to Mpho. His arm was coming down in an arch, the scythe aimed for her neck. Before his weapon could connect, he was thrown back by an invisible force. Mpho slammed into the far wall and remained there. He growled, struggling. Rosamond held him in place against the wall.

Gwendolyn snarled, rushing towards the Queen. Rosamond turned her gaze on her. With one look, Gwendolyn was yanked upwards, her back smacking into the ceiling. Gwendolyn thrashed, but her body was pinned to the ceiling, like a butterfly pegged onto a tray.

Rosamond stretched a hand towards Aiguo, her fingers curled. The warlock fell to his knees and screamed, his back bowing.   

"Bring it back!" Rosamond demanded.

Lin raised her hands and started chanting, fast and quick. Warrick's eyes caught movement next to the throne. Gael held a dagger, his eyes centered on Lin.

"Oh, fuck it all," Warrick mumbled. He ran to Lin, managing to step in front of her just in time. He threw his left arm up, the dagger glancing off his shield.

Warrick followed through with a front kick to Gael's chest. Gael grunted, stumbling back. Warrick yanked his axe free, in a movement that was as familiar to him as breathing. Warrick swung, slamming the axe into the center of Gael's chest. The unseen weapon sunk deep, biting into bone. Blood erupted from the wound. Gael gurgled, his eyes wide. Warrick ripped his weapon out of the man's chest, not bothering to watch his enemy sink to the floor.

Warrick turned. Aiguo was now standing. He and Lin were holding hands, both chanting loudly and in unison. Powerful magic rose on the air, producing quick gusts of wind. Rosamond hissed. Her mouth opened, her jaw elongating. Thick purple tentacles tumbled out of her mouth, black ink dripping from the slimy, writhing appendages.

"Holy shit!" Warrick shouted.

Aiguo and Lin both stretched a hand forward, and then closed their fingers into a fist. Rosamond went rigid. A choking noise escaped from her throat, mingling with the sound of flaying tentacles. Her arms and legs were pulled outwards, as if she was being lynched by invisible rope.   

Mpho and Gwendolyn both fell, landing hard on the stone floor. The doors to the throne room flew open. Rosamond's dead army rushed in.

Gwendolyn got up. "Warrick, kill her! Do it now, we will hold them off!"

Gwendolyn and Mpho threw themselves at the armed corpses. They collided into the decayed mass, hacking off heads and limbs.

"Barricade the doors!" Gwendolyn shouted.

Mpho carved his way through, fighting his way to the doors. Gwendolyn was a wild thing let loose on the army of dead. She erupted in bursts of violence, taking on three or four at a time. Mpho managed to force the doors closed, jamming a sword through the handles. The doors shuttered, the wood groining as more forces tried to get in. Mpho jumped into the fray, his massive body moving with an incredible amount of grace, his movements precise and well-practiced. A dance of death.

"Dammit savage, do it now!" Gwendolyn growled as she stabbed a corpse in the chest.

Warrick turned, facing Rosamond. Lin and Aiguo still had her held, but the mages were not going to last much longer. Aiguo's entire body was shaking. Lin was drained of color, her face deathly pale. She looked like she was going to pass out.

Rosamond's eyes had changed. Her pupils were now narrowed into slits. Something slithered beneath the folds of her gown. Warrick swallowed hard. She is not a child, he thought as he stepped forward. She is evil. She is not human.

He raised his axe and swung, a Munin battle cry erupting from his throat. Warrick lopped her head off in one clean stroke. Her auburn curls spun and then fell, her head smacking onto the floor with a sickening squish. Lin and Aiguo continued chanting, keeping the remainder of her body in place. Warrick made short work of her, quickly slicing off both of her arms and legs. He could hear the tentacles still moving.

Warrick ran to the wall, grabbing a torch. He drew the fire along her torso and limbs first, and then located her head. It was laying in a pool of black ink. The tentacles slapped against the stone, slowly pulling her severed head forward. Warrick hurriedly lit it on fire. A scream pierced the air, one that did not sound remotely human. The flames spread, quickly engulfing the mangled corpse. The tentacles finally stopped flaying, now blackened and charred.

Suddenly, the army of the dead collapsed, their weapons clattering to the floor. The doors stopped shuddering, and silence fell on the throne room. Her army became still, unmoving, nothing more than lifeless corpses.

Warrick was breathing heavily. He threw the torch down, sickened.

Lin collapsed. Aiguo caught her. He scooped her into his arms, cradling her to his chest.

Gwendolyn and Mpho stepped around the bodies that surrounded them, making their way to the throne.

"Well done, savage," Gwendolyn said.

Warrick glared at her, but his anger was gone. "What the hell was she?"

"Something old, something ancient that made its way into our world. I would have told you, but you wouldn't have believed me. You had to see," Gwendolyn answered.

Warrick examined the burning corpse. "What now?" he asked.

"I give you the money that I promised you, and you can go on your way," Gwendolyn said. "Or, you can join us. There are rumors, that another Soul Eater is in the South, occupying castle Hulgade."

"Shit woman, how many of them got into this realm?" Warrick asked.

"Two. We think," Gwendolyn answered.

"Did anything else get in?" Warrick said.

"A horde of infant chimera's," Gwendolyn said. "They are occupying a forest to the East. We need to exterminate them before they grow large enough to make the journey across the sea."

Warrick shook his head. "You've got a hell of a problem."

"Yes, we do." Gwendolyn agreed. "But it is none of your concern. Unless you want it to be."

Warrick fell silent, studying the group in front of him. Lin was now awake, and looking at him, her golden eyes soft. His gaze returned to Rosamond's corpse. A thick purple tail had fallen out of the bottom of her dress, the flames eating away at the scales.

Warrick would never be allowed to return to Dunedin. He was a man without a country, without a home. If he was to remain in Komi-Okrug, these creatures had to be dealt with. For one thing, Warrick didn't want them making their way to the green shores of Dunedin. And also, if he bought an inn, the last thing he needed was a chimera igniting it on fire.

Warrick sighed. "Let's go. So glad you brought repelling equipment, that really came in handy."

He walked passed Gwendolyn, towards the doors. The others followed, stepping over the dead.

Gwendolyn pulled the sword out of the handles and wrenched the doors open. "How was I supposed to know they would stop moving once she died?"

"We can use it to our advantage, in the South," Mpho said. "It will be beneficial."

"You know what is beneficial?" Warrick said. "Being correctly prepared for a mission."

"Shut it, savage," Gwendolyn said.

The castle was now still and quiet, reduced to a graveyard. Piles of corpses lined the hallways, limbs motionless, opaque eyes open, forever frozen in an unseeing stare. Warrick uttered a final prayer, this time for Rosamond's victims. He hoped their souls would be carried to the halls of the afterlife and find peace.

Dawn broke across the sky as Gwendolyn and her small band of warriors headed downhill and began the journey South. Rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the path ahead.