Destiney of the Sword God

Chapter 14 - Looming Evil

Rowan woke to sunlight warming his face, his muscles still relaxed in the comfort of lazy leisure. Though the city bustled vigorously outside the open window, life indoors seemed to unwind at an unhurried pace. Beside him Elia stirred softly, rousing from dreams with a smile waiting beneath closed lids. 

With each passing day together their bond grew, feet straying farther yet hearts entwined closer. This past week had been a reprieve from turbulences past - a sweet interlude to explore the capital side by side at leisure, hand in hand.

The sprawling metropolis unwound its mysteries gradually for the wanderers, pace meandering as their hearts. Each morning began lazily, the couple rising late to break their fast over easy conversation, gleaning energy for the day ahead. Narrow alleyways revealed hidden squares where street performers held impromptu court. Open markets overflowed with gifts from distant lands, breathing life and light into eyes tired of poverty elsewhere.

Through it all Rowan and Elia wandered ever enrapt with each discovery, stopping often to lose themselves anew amid laughter and song. Passing days elevated spirits lifted high, shedding cares like feathers on the breeze. Here no shadows could intrude, not with Elia's radiance at his side to vanquish any gloom threatening.

This dawn followed the leisurely rhythms of the past. Rowan lay quietly watching dust motes dance golden rays through the open casement as Elia stirred, meeting his gaze with a loving smile. "Where shall our feet lead us today, my heart?" he asked softly. Another day of bliss and exploration awaited, promise gleaming in Elia's eyes as bright as the rising sun. The dusk hour fell gently as Rowan and Elia strolled hand in hand through gracious avenues, souls at peace. Gilded spires flushed rose as the sun bid her goodbyes, bathing the lanes in balmy twilight no foreseeable darkness could mar.

Other inhabitants wandered carefree, enjoying the settled quiet of neighbors winding down after the day's labors. Musicians packed wares onto carts, taps closed early to the chorus of crickets awakening their evening song.

All seemed tranquil below flickering gas lights - until splintering screams shattered the serenity without forewarning. Rowan and Elia froze, clutching each other's hands, hearts leaping in dread's jaws at that terrible sound.

Another cry joined the first in a crescendo of horror, then more, each growing shriller and more pained than the last. Panicked footfalls drummed the cobbles followed by terror's detonating wails all down formerly languid lanes.

Chaos erupted as residents poured from homes, pelting past Rowan and Elia in a blind frenzy. Their once peaceful promenade curdled sour, thick with adrenaline and dismay. What grisly fate befell those poor souls to provoke such vestigial hysteria?

Elia clutched Rowan's arm, wide eyes beseeching answer he could not give. All he knew for sure - their halcyon peace now lay shattered, along with the sanctity of this evening. Dark wings unseen yet cast long shadows of unrest, and night was falling fast. Rowan grasped Elia's hand, leading her swiftly towards the source of horrors erupting all around. They rounded a corner into a narrow alley just in time to witness madness unleashed.

A hag of a woman scrambled on all fours to escape some nameless stalker, clothes rent and bloody. Her pursuer loped with uncanny swiftness - a deformed wraith all gnashing teeth and sightless, bulging eyes. Soulless as death it was yet animated with a ghoul's murderous intent, claws slashing to rend, and cages closed in for the kill.

Before Rowan could draw steel, a shadow detached itself from deeper gloom. It ambushed the first attacker with equal savagery, bearing it to the cobbles in a whirl of flailing limbs. Others emerged, horrors indistinguishable as living or dead swarming fallen and able prey alike. Their victim's screams drowned in a gurgling death rattle.

Elia clapped hands to her mouth to stifle a sob of horror. All around like scenes from the nine hells erupted - wraiths dragging down fleeing residents into the fray while their own kind turned on one another in a craze of fangs and claws. Blood pooled the cobbles, coercion granting these monsters license to glut their savage appetites.

Rowan shoved Elia behind him, bringing his sword glowing with crackling energy to bear against the encroaching tide of insanity. Their peaceful surroundings now played host to a waking nightmare, and these aberrations showed no signs of sating their glut any time soon. Rowan and Elia looked on in mounting horror as the aberrations fell upon their prey with abandon. Through the madness' pulse beating hot and fast in his veins, a flicker of comprehension rippled in Rowan's mind - these were no natural terrors.

Where people had stood moments before now writhed mounds of twitching limbs, facsimiles of humanity shattered and strewn in pieces. Amorphous horrors hunkered over the carnage, mouths working in a nauseating chewing rhythm as they devoured morsels of souls now emptied of essence.

That which had animated these poor souls seconds ago was extracted through every orifice, slurped and swallowed by the things that had neither mercy nor sanity remaining in their featureless forms. Pale blue mist escaped through gaping wounds, dissipating on the night like final breaths plucked loose.

The wraiths' maws slavered wetly, gulping down portions of soul stuff in their claimed dominion. All that remained when their glut reached peak was clammy skin hung empty on bones, eyes dull and dead as the memories stolen away. Where people stood now were only discarded meat sacks void of all that once made them human.

Elia choked back revulsion, tears clinging to lashes. Yet they could not look away no matter the horror, for the wraiths were not sitting - only feeding a madness bound to spread if not checked here and now. Rowan sprang into action without hesitation. With a wordless shout he charged headlong into the throng of horrors, Elia close behind wielding her magic.

Rowan's sword sang out as it arced lethal precision, carving through misshapen flesh. His training rendered him a deadly blur amongst the chaos, cutting down aberration after aberration with brutal efficiency. Still more pressed forward ceaselessly to throw themselves upon his blade.

Elia unleashed barrages of magic, lightning crackling from her fingers to stun the wraiths. Fire followed, scorching them from the inside out into greasy plumes. Even so, her power could only fell so many when faced with such unrelenting numbers.

They battled on relentlessly to shield victims from rapacious claws. A woman lay crumpled, one leg bloodily severed, scream gurgling wet on torn lips as two wraiths bore down. Rowan's sword lopped their heads before they could sink their teeth into quivering flesh.

He hauled the woman over a shoulder, tossing her clear while cleaving a wraith crawling too nearby. Elia dragged her to relative safety with her magic then whirled to face the next attack, determination set in the line of her jaw.

Together they cut a swath through the tide, working without words to shield the helpless. No thought existed but protecting the innocent to their last breaths if needed, against all unholy odds. Rowan felt fatigue creeping in but refused to yield even an inch to the endless attackers. Despite their efforts, more victims fell screaming under grasping claws with each moment. Try as they might, Rowan and Elia found themselves slowly becoming overwhelmed.

These adversaries showed no signs of tiring, pressing forward inexorably with nightmare intensity. Though Rowan's blade sang out in a lethal rhythm and Elia's magic lashed them like the vengeance of gods, scores more replaced each felled horror.

Sweat stung Rowan's eyes and arms throbbed, limbs leaden yet still he fought on. At his side Elia panted for breath, magic flickering and waning against their unending assault. A wraith lunged straight for her throat, meeting its end on Rowan's steel instead.

Too many swarmed, hacking and tearing at soft victims while Rowan and Elia battled those scrabbling ever closer. A man's body lay twisted, guilty hand still clawing at an eyeball ripped bloody from its socket.

Even their combined strength and experience met its match against foes with no thought for self-preservation. Unless the tide could be stemmed, all hope would drown here under gnashing fangs with the last flickers of desperate magic. Rowan redoubled his efforts with a roar, carving through yet more nightmares to give Elia precious seconds to gather herself once more.

They fought on with a grim feral grace, staunch defenders unto their dying breath. But the horrific question lingered - how long until even their combined might was at last overwhelmed? Rowan parried another wraith's lunge, spinning to cleave through its amorphous form. In the momentary lull its demise afforded, his mind raced with grim realization.

These creatures are issued from no natural spawning. Their essence reeked not of birth but nightmare manifestation - foul magic twisted them into being expressly for madness unleashed.

Some malevolent force cultivated this horde with tender care, nurturing their savagery until ripe for release upon an unsuspecting populace. These lanes had known nothing but peace, their residents unprepared for the sheer horror about to devour them alive.

Unless the Summoner could be located and its foul rites stopped, the city had no hope of surviving the night. The wraiths multiplied beyond counting no matter how many fell, replacement always ready to slake their never-ending hunger.

Elia landed at Rowan's back, face haunted. "Their numbers grow, but from where?" she choked out between gasps. Rowan had no answers, only the certainty their only chance for victory lay in tracking this force of malevolence to its source. Destroy the head, and perhaps the body could at last be halted...but could they survive long enough to see it? Their foes slipped beyond the edges of reason but kept to a dark design Rowan was determined to uncover. Rowan fought on past the point of exhaustion, spurred by fury and duty. But despite his and Elia's efforts, ever more wraiths swarmed from the shadows, an unrelenting tide.

As the silver moon reached its zenith, an eerie silence fell. The wraiths froze as one, tilting soulless faces skyward as if receiving some unseen command. Without warning, they melted back into the alley's inky depths, leaving behind nothing but carnage and woe.

Rowan sagged against a wall, heaving for breath. Elia collapsed into his arms, clutching him tight as shock set in. Around them lay piles of ravaged corpses, faces frozen in their final agony. All who yet lived hid wounded in trembling heaps.

The lanes emptied of life once more mirrored a graveyard. No trace of the summoning force lingered, but its twisted signature polluted the air like a miasma. Questions outnumbered answers - what malevolent intelligence coordinated this horror? What hungry magic birthed the wraiths to glut on souls?

As the moon set and dawn's pale light bled over shattered rooftops, a grim resolution swelled in Rowan's breast. This enemy sought to shroud its machinations, but he would tear away the veil regardless of the cost. Its nature remained cloaked, but he vowed to drag its secrets screaming into the light, and grant vengeance for the innocents claimed by shadows this night.