Two Worlds: Clash of the Guardians (Completed)

XVII - The Red Merpeople - Part II

Vadiraj

October 6, in the year of 8845, Reminis Calendar (RC) 

Vadiraj sat at the peak of the volcano; it still had the fading scent of Elli. Arching his left leg up to form an upside down V-shape, he placed his elbow on it and leaned against his palm. The expedition of Elli and her friends was getting more and more thrilling. He knew they were coming after him but he wasn't afraid. He never feared sorcerers. He was biding his time, waiting for Elli's expedition to lure another brethren. He only feared those with high status quo. If he took down that man's head, he'd be the real king.

Smiling, he looked up at the sky. It was almost full moon. The Vampists needed to absorb the moonlight to keep their flesh looked rejuvenating. It was an alternative if they were lacked of infants' blood. Of course, they prefered the second choice. Sitting at the high area, Vadiraj saw shadows looming in the darkness and heard wails of pain when fangs tusking into flesh. His goons were enjoying themselves.

There was a reason, Dominic Hulin, the Chief Sorcerer, prohibited Black-Borns to stroll under the moonlight. They had blind courage and wouldn't think twice to defeat their enemies. Silver-Borns were mercenary and could be bought over by monetary terms. Golden-Borns were already rich themselves. They wouldn't do anything silly that would confront their safety and wealth. When he was thinking of the ploys he could prepare for Elli's and her friends, he saw five wispy souls roaming in the night sky, lost.

Time for a game. He knew they were rescued but they were unconscious. He slid down the volcano and landed on the rocky earth. Stomping his staff on the surface, he descended into the Underworld. He couldn't waste any time. If the souls of Elli and her friends returned to their husks, he'd lose the fun. He strode to the edge of the first floor, where a grumpy old man was throwing his log book. 

"Fat Bob, I need you to do me a favour," Vadiraj shouted. He swiped away the quieing ghosts with his staff to reach the front line. The ghosts scampered around upon the touch of his staff and cloaks, but they couldn't run away. Their feet were being chained. Vadiraj scanned them. They were mostly some old fools his goons had just sucked the blood. The Underworld was going to be overload again.

"My name is Bobbadelion. That name is the one and only in Reminis, a special name." The chief Grim Reaper ground his teeth. He leaned on his walking stick and limped towards Vadiraj, swinging his round belly at the same time. His hood fell, revealing his bald head, like the head of a shaved chicken. When he reached Vadiraj, he whispered, "At least, give me some face in front of these newbies."

"I. Don't. Care. Kick these old souls aside. I have an important mission for you." A huge cage fell down at Vadiraj's words and caged the ghosts. "There, they'll know who to respect now. If you have any problems with them, come to me. Now listen, Bobby. I want you to chain the souls of my bride and her friends." Before Vadiraj's words echoed away, Elli's souls and her friends popped in front. 

Their mouths opened widely, cursing, but no voice came out. Elli tried to kick the chains on her feet away; another circles of manacles clasped around her ankles. She dug her fingers into her cloak. She had lost her sword somewhere, but she still had her dagger. She prepared to throw it at Vadiraj's smug face when tendrils sprouted out and bound her wrists.

Fat Bob threw his log book on the heads of the new comers. It spun around them like a twirling boomerang, but it didn't drop. After five seconds, it flew back to the Grim Reaper's hands. "My lord, they aren't meant to die yet. At least, not today. We must return their souls back to their husks."

Vadiraj didn't hear him. He eyed the book with a wild glint in his eyes. "You have an interesting treasure." He snatched the book out of Fat Bob's hands and flipped the pages. He wanted to see when would be the death dates of Elli and his friends. Nothing. All he could see were blank pages.