Airel - Aaron Patterson [36]
The stench was nearly overpowering already. Beastlike creatures, they smelled of fire, sulfur and smoke. But it went further than that. The smell of decay and rotten flesh, the parasitic smell of an ugly life form feeding on another, growing like a fungus, was ever present. If Kreios had not been exposed to it many times before, it might have overpowered him.
He knew that one of them was human and one was not. He could smell the one that was of the original clan. These were bigger, had sharp shoulders and long arms that almost touched the ground.
Kreios was nearly upon them when the bigger one, the beast, stiffened and sniffed the air. Kreios silently drew the Sword of Light, knowing full well he had to kill the demon first, then the man, if the wretch could be called by such a name. The demon turned as he pulled his long black sword from his side, breaking the silence with a screeching, scraping sound.
A blinding light flashed out like a shot and the sword cleared the air. It filled Kreios with a burst of power and with every bit of it, he swung high and down, slicing the demon’s head in half. He jerked the broadside of the sword in a snapping motion and the head of the creature fell to the earth in two pieces. Kreios was expecting it to be more difficult. The man, standing before him in awe, must have thought the same thing.
Kreios was not in the mood to be taking any chances, however. He lifted his sword high again, pointed toward the earth, and plunged it downward powerfully into the beast’s heart. Thick, black blood gushed from its neck and up into the air as Kreios pulled his weapon from the twitching body.
He turned to the man and held out his glowing sword. The demon’s carcass fell beside them with a dead thud, but the eyes of the man and the angel were locked upon one another.
The man was tall, with thick arms and broad shoulders. His long black hair streamed down from his head, crowning him in greasy filth. His sword was drawn and he held it like a man who knew how to wield it.
Kreios stalled, waiting for his power to return, by asking the man a question. “Before I kill you, tell me why you took my daughter. What is she to you?”
The man looked at him, then up to the sky. He shifted his weight as if bargaining with a merchant, then spoke with a hideous voice. “We knew you would come for that, pawn. We do not want it—we want you.” He spat on the ground as if completely bored by the situation. “You puppet. You fool for a lost cause! You think you know. You know not. The power now ranged against you and your blood-mates is more than you could imagine. We wanted to draw you to the canyon just beyond the forest edge,” he motioned over his shoulder to the west, “then capture you alive and deliver you to the Seer.” The man flexed his shoulders and planted his feet.
Kreios looked to the west and cocked his head. “Why tell me now? You know I am going to kill you.”
“Our number over that ridge are many. If we, the rear guard, do not ride into camp tonight, they will come for you. We know where you and your brother are hiding. We will kill the entire village for sport.” His smile turned wickeder and filled with evil delight as his eyebrows arched. “We will stop at nothing.” Then a sneer escaped the man’s lips and his face contorted as he bared his teeth at Kreios.
“I have nothing you or your kind could want. Leave now and I will let you live to tell your Seer to forget this foolish mission.” Kreios saw instantly that his offer would not be taken. This man was determined to die.
“We want you—and we will take you—for reasons that I will not reveal to you. It is what the Seer has ordered and we will deliver no matter the cost.” The man rolled forward onto the balls of his feet, ready to strike.