Bedlam in Arnos

Wiping hair and mud out of her face, a dazed Tiana knelt over Kannu. His breastplate, dented from the earlier punch, now appeared comically frail. Waving Zaile over, the two sat him up against a tree and removed his armour. The woman let out a despairing gasp. An angry red had taken over the entire lower left of Kannu’s torso. Zaile winced. That was the colour of broken bones and ruptured innards.

“Together,” said Zaile.

Grunting simultaneously, Tiana and Zaile lifted the unconscious hunter, their knees buckling. Ferric, still stumbling about with glassy eyes, dragged Euphon away. Even with his sword broken, the Apprentice loudly protested the escape.

“I came back to save him,” screeched Euphon. “I’m not letting him –”

Ferric scowled. “You and what army?”

“Guardian Rondel excels at concealment and rejuvenation. He can’t –”

Ferric gave Euphon a resounding slap. If his face wasn't red from Kannu’s crushing weight, Zaile would’ve gone ghostly pale from this exchange. Tiana roared with ferocious approval.

“Hit him again for me, Ferric!” she yelled. “If the old man doesn’t make it, then neither will you.”

“Not that old, sweetie.” Kannu whimpered. “Lay me down.”

But Kannu sank to the ground like a boulder tossed into water. Clashing swords shook the air, jolting the party. Then came a demonic roar. It sounded far too close. Zaile glanced over his shoulder. A golden Finnardian sun clashed against the murky Zunarkian eclipse. The light, instead of banishing the darkness, simply vanished into the shady maw. Somehow, Zaile didn’t think Rondel was winning.

“Guys,” Tiana cried. “Help!”

Zaile blinked, unsure if he was hallucinating. A tree had sprung to life, coiling its roots around Kannu’s throat. The large man bellowed in uncharacteristic fright, tearing at the tentacles only to sprout more wooden limbs. The three hunters rushed to his aid, hacking and slashing to no avail. Just when it seemed nothing could stop the slithering plant, Euphon dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together in prayer. Freed from the evil that animated it, the gnarled giant slowly retracted its appendages and was dormant again. Kannu, breathing hard, gave the trunk a vengeful boot.

“What – was that?” Ferric fought hard to keep panic from his voice.

“The ghosts of Arnos Forest,” said Euphon. “Man-eating demons hiding in these old trees.”

“I knew it!” Kannu, face red from all the tree kicking, paused to yell at Euphon. “So why were you here?”

“Apprentices must face the heretical evils residing in this forest to turn the black collar blue,” said Euphon. “Good thing I passed. Now move.”

The party continued through the woods with Euphon in front. At his extended fingertip hovered a wisp, its dim lights keeping the trees at bay. Lurking in the shadows, the demons stalked the hunters with large, thumping strides, upheaving sludge each time they uprooted. Kannu turned his head constantly, eyes wide with wild fever. Had Solmis not drained him of his strength, he would’ve likely hacked down every tree in sight.

Tiana, supporting Kannu with her shoulders, had a short sword in one hand. She felt ridiculous. If the possessed trees did eat her, the thin blade just might serve as a toothpick. Tiana cackled. If she was to die, she might as well die laughing.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, looking at Kannu. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Girl,” growled Kannu. “Drop me.”

“No way,” said Tiana. “Zaile, give me a hand.”

Zaile had barely joined the lagging couple when Kannu took Tiana’s knife and pushed her away. Without her support, he tumbled into the mud. Groaning, Kannu sat up against a tree. Tiana’s scream pierced the woods.

“This time,” said Kannu, “find someone your age.”

A dead-wakening battle cry concluded this argument. Before terror could seize the party, the demonic trees screeched and bolted. Jaws agape, Zaile marvelled at the stampeding forest until two titans slammed into each other. One of them stumbled, coming within a few paces of crushing Zaile before scrambling back up.

After yelling several times into the discordant screaming, Ferric tapped Zaile on the shoulder and gestured for the party to huddle together. Euphon knelt next to Kannu, his glowing fingers conjuring what appeared to be a healing spell. While it didn’t reverse the swelling, Kannu breathed easier.

While Ferric and Euphon helped Kannu to his feet, Zaile stared at the eldritch horde passing them by. He felt an eerie calm. Perhaps the encounter with Solmis had damaged his ability to feel fear. He first tested with an arm, snapping off a twig, followed by a dagger that sliced through the trunk. Zaile and Ferric traded a nervous look. Very soon, they had Tiana hand everyone but Ferric a dagger. Zaile held up three fingers. Three. He took a deep breath, folding back one appendage. Two. His eyes locked onto an incoming tree. One. His hand clenched a fist.

Zaile jumped.

Bang! Zaile ceded an involuntary cough as he splatted against the tree. He repeatedly stabbed the demon until he was no longer dangling like a leaf. Ferric leapt after Zaile, sinking his fingers into the trunk. Not nearly as nimble as his companions, Kannu all but shoulder-tackled their new mount. His weight saved him, driving the dagger deep. Ferric climbed down, digging out more ledges for the big hunter to climb up.

When the trees did not sprout new limbs, Zaile focused again on the two clashing lights. The darkness surged forth, devouring the vestiges of Finnardian magic. Rondel, who seemed to have aged a decade since his miraculous recovery, lost ground at an alarming rate. It was only a matter of time before Solmis ran them down.

A brilliant flash of gold forced Zaile to shield his eyes. Blinding Solmis, Rondel levelled his sword and delivered a two-handed thrust. Ferocious and fast, the Guardian’s attack was light itself. Zaile pumped his fists and cried out in jubilation. His celebrations were, however, premature.

Eyes closed, Solmis braced himself. His sabre, as long as he was tall, rose and fell like a tidal wave of ink. Rondel howled in pain as the upward strike hurled his sword, along with his arms, skywards. He leapt back, avoiding the earth-rending slash that would’ve cleaved him in two, and vanished. Seething, Solmis let loose a barrage of insults as he hacked at the darkness, cleaving down a few screeching trees that strayed into his ring of death.

Euphon had not finished screaming when Rondel broke his invisible veil. With a fresh pair of arms, the Guardian swept up his sword, pouncing on Solmis with renewed ferocity. The two divine warriors exchanged another flurry of slashes and thrusts, their weapons singing a discordant war hymn. Moments later, Solmis bested Rondel again, his low sweep hacking off a leg.

Zaile watched each exchange, his eyes glued to the duel. Rondel's compact swordplay a dangerous beauty. His superhuman agility and strength, however, could not measure up to the Zunarkian. Solmis walked fluid circles. With each flick of the wrist, he traced wide, arcing slashes. The seemingly undisciplined swings dismembered Rondel with disturbing ease.

Rondel had just lost his third pair of arms. Undeterred, the Guardian faded into thin air, emerging moments later to pester Solmis once more. The intervals between his disappearances grew longer. Each return left him looking more like his uniform – bloodied and frayed. Zaile tore his eyes away, shaking his head. Ferric continued to study the battle, his brows furrowed with intense concentration. A trembling Tiana clung to Kannu, who wrapped an arm around her. Perched atop a branch, Euphon closed his eyes in prayer. The resistance was coming to an end.

Zaile shot an arm toward Euphon. “Coat.”

“You can't wear this,” Euphon said. “The blessings will peel your skin off.”

“Coat!” Zaile repeated with greater urgency.

A confused Euphon removed his blazer. Murmuring a prayer, he ran a hand over the black collar until the white lost its Finnardian glimmer. Gingerly, Zaile poked at it with his finger before tossing it over his head, covering the silver hair that would surely give him away.

Zaile lifted ten fingers, signalling. “Gold.” Euphon blinked. “Decoy,” added Zaile, stabbing a thumb at himself while glancing at Solmis.

“A bargain,” Ferric joined in. “Especially if for your distinguished bloodline.”

Euphon folded his hands over his chest. “Grace of Mercy.”

Kannu gave Zaile a look before pushing Tiana from his embrace. “Girl,” he said. “Keep him alive.”

Tiana swallowed a retort, choosing instead to press her lips against his. “Don’t you die.”

The huntress shot up like a dry leaf caught in a draft. Spinning in midair, Tiana fired a salvo at the Templar’s back. Again, her arrows swerved around the intended target, drawing an irked glare from the Zunarkian.

“Come on!” she yelled, waving a hand at Zaile.

Climbing up, Zaile swallowed and flung himself at the first tree running in a different direction. Tiana leapt after him, when a sweeping gale slammed her into Zaile. The boy grunted, spun around, and caught her outstretched arm.

“You really are a boy,” she teased as he pulled her up. “Every man knows how to hold a woman.”

His cheeks warmed, Zaile scowled and scaled towards the treetop, where he gained a broader view of the chaos. The earth rumbled as the trees scattered, trampling each other to escape Solmis. At the epicentre, the Templar towered over the Guardian. Rondel, who now looked like a man in his twilight years, leaned on his sword. The damage he absorbed, nothing short of miraculous, had exacted its toll.

“I died...extolling Mercy...” Rondel wheezed, cackling. “I thank...you, demon.”

“False god,” Solmis spat. “False prize.”

Solmis struck the killing blow, turning his back on Rondel before his head could tumble to the ground. How tempting it would be to kill the apostate with a thousand cuts. But no. Time was fleeting, and he could not shame the Solwind with such unbecoming sadism. He sighed, opting for an abbreviated salute. One with the heaven and earth. After tracing a shadowy ring, he clapped his hands together and stomped his foot. The world shook.

Solmis cast a glance at the fluttering white jacket. “A meagre tithe from thy humble herald.”

Pulling the blazer tightly around himself, Zaile turned his head and regretted it. Solmis hurtled after them like a black comet, leaving an inky trail in his wake. Tiana strummed her bow in quick succession, but the Templar weaved through them without slowing down. The woman reached into her quiver and froze.

“We can’t stay here,” she said, grabbing Zaile. “Latch onto my back and be still. I’ve never flown with anyone else.”

Zaile wrapped his hands around her. He squeezed her waist, signalling to Tiana that he was ready. The huntress took a deep breath, kicked off a branch, and catapulted them towards another tree. No sooner had she taken flight than their mount squealed in pain and lurched forward with a sickening crunch. Solmis had torn its trunks asunder.

The roaring winds drowned out Zaile’s scream as they sailed through the night sky. Landing on her toes, Tiana sprinted along a twig where any man would fall and jumped again, going to even greater heights this time. As they vaulted from one treetop to the next, Tiana continued to accelerate. There were times when Zaile could’ve sworn she was kicking at thin air, as if she had winged feet.

“Hang on,” Tiana cried. “Rough landing.”

Zaile opened his eyes in time to see the horizon spin. He tumbled across the ashen surface, almost causing him to puke. Groaning, Zaile remained sprawled for a moment to regain his bearings. Miraculously unhurt save for some scratches and cuts, he gingerly got to his feet and trotted over to Tiana. The motionless woman chilled his blood. Grunting, he forced his hurting limbs to haul Tiana up.

“Walk?” asked Zaile.

“No,” Tiana said with a self-deprecating snort. “Can’t feel my legs, probably a good thing.”

Zaile thought of leaving the woman. With the sun down, the nighttime Freaks would soon prowl the wilderness. Tiana smelled of blood and sweat, an excellent bait should the large monsters rear their ugly heads. Zaile shook his head and swept Tiana into his arms.

“Now this,” she said, wincing, “is how you hold a woman.”

He ignored her jab. Fretting over Kannu’s axe seemed premature when Solmis was on their heels. Zaile pressed through the ashen flats, constantly checking his peripheries for grey monstrosities. For once, he was glad the only thing chasing him was his own shadow, stretched to Freakish length under the scarlet moonlight.

“Think we lost him?” asked Tiana.

“What do you think?”

An almost calming dread choked Zaile. The dust beneath his feet became quicksand, dragging him down to his knees. He dropped Tiana, but the woman didn’t even register her fall. Her wide eyes were fixed on some unspeakable terror to his rear. Zaile took a deep breath, wrapped a shaking hand around his dagger, and followed her gaze. It was Solmis, only this time, there was no tree or dainty huntress to whisk him to safety.

Solmis had slowed to a stroll, accompanying each stride with profane blasphemy. Zaile could only liken the sound to a pit teeming with screeching insects. The cloak of black mist flowed with his every step, like a living armour. Alit under the red moon, his magnificent sabre emitted a macabre radiance. This was, without a doubt, the Finnardian nightmare made flesh.

The muttering and footsteps stopped. “No...”

By the time Zaile realised what had happened, a towering Solmis had already ripped the Divine Blade blazer to shreds. Tiana screamed and curled into a ball as the Templar poised to strike. Zaile looked up at the great blade that projected its long shadow over him, marking the line that would slice him in two. Arms limp at his side, he resigned and closed his eyes.

Ruan came to him. Zaile couldn’t seem to recall why he so wanted to escape the reading lessons now. Prim joined Ruan, throwing a blanket over the sleeping boy. Zaile wondered what he would say to her if given the chance. Very soon, the entire orphanage squeezed into the picture. Laughing, shouting, crying, their familiar warmth warded off the terror. Zaile’s lips curved. There were worse ways to die.

“Finnardi’s pox!”

The outburst had Zaile tripping over himself. He quickly patted himself down. He was alive, but how? And why? Looking up, he saw Solmis had turned away and was now kneeling on one knee. Blade already sheathed, the Templar lowered his head and pointed the hilt upwards, though it wasn’t obvious who he was offering it to. The ebon haze clinging to him faded, as if an unseen hand had pulled it away.

“Can we…go?” Tiana ventured, her voice uncharacteristically timid.

Deep in prayer, Solmis did not appear to hear the woman. Zaile and Tiana watched on, afraid to even flinch. This went on for some time before the Templar finally straightened and fastened his sabre. Zaile had relaxed until the Zunarkian spun around, his face a mask of seething fury.

“You injured?” he asked gruffly, stabbing a finger at Zaile.

Surprised, Zaile blinked and shook his head.

He faced Tiana. “You?”

Tiana wriggled her legs. The absence of immediate danger seemed to have restored a fraction of her cheeky wit. “Think you can help an ailing maiden?”

Solmis snorted. “Maiden?”

“I’m a maiden if you’re a priest.”

Solmis grumbled something unintelligible and waved a hand at Zaile. “Come hither, boy,” Solmis ordered. “I’ll not cast the spell twice!”