Darkness: Chapter 21 - Chaos

Mala’kal didn’t walk. Nor did he jog. He ran down the corridor, two of his own grunts right behind him. The pace was swift despite having to duck under various parts of the ceiling, they had to make haste.

Echoes bounced down the length of the tunnel, a scream, a wail, and a crunch. The alarm had been raised and even now he could hear the ring of steel and the clash of battle.

How could someone have infiltrated this place? Impossible!

He and Brusk closed and opened the rock face entrance with their throttle hold over the spirits. Nobody could see the way in, let alone break in. It was inconceivable that anyone could force entry. Impossible.

We shall cut them down all the same!

His feet hammered the hard floor until they came to the tunnels end, rounding the final corner and stormed into the chamber, he with his chained totem in hand and the grunts with axes drawn. What he saw before him made his heart race.

impossible...

Two of the three braziers were unlit, rendering the whole room dark to the eyes. The prison entrance was open, the boulder strewn aside and the dark below revealed. Around the room were five bodies, Brusk, Vorg, two other grunts he did not recall that lacked arms and Teshka, her head some distance from her lifeless body. The blood surged in his chest, molten and hot with rage as his eyes landed on the one that had done this, the thing that had escaped.

It stepped out of a shadow on one side of the chamber, all dark and shrouded in its shape. The smell of death was in the air as it set its eyes on him, green and full of intent. In its hand it held a sword, a familiar sword.

that sword...

He growled, as realisation hit him like a thunderbolt to the mind. The Blademaster had escaped, and reclaimed what was his. But it would not avail him, oh no.

”Burn!” He roared, whirling one hand before directing the other in the direction of the Blademaster. The spirits screamed as he took a grasp on them, bending them to his will, forcing fire to form and throw itself from the totem as a bolt of molten magma. It propelled itself through the air, its intended target in its sights... only for that shadow to melt into its surroundings followed by an explosion of flame and rock on the far wall.

”Get him!” Mala’kal commanded, the two Kor’kron charged, their axes in hand ready to strike.

Just keep him still long enough...

The dark shaman changed his focus. His minds eyes moved it gaze, releasing the aspect of fire and taking air by the scruff of the neck. Lightning, yes. The two grunts confronted a shadow at the far side of the cave, swinging their axes, blows being parried to the ring of steel as they danced with a shadow.

Expendable.

He focused, rotated the totem in his hand and thrust out the other. To the crack of thunder a silver beam of lightning burst forth and lashed toward the trio, the air hummed and vibrated with static as all was illuminated in blinding light.

It struck! Lashing the grunt on the left, he curled his hand to whip it right and catch the other two. Like an explosion of light it blasted the second grunt as the first hit the ground smoulder, dead.

”b-bu...” The last grunt fell over, the smell of burnt flesh was heavy in the air. But the third body was nowhere to be seen. He had not struck his intended target.

Coward!

Marching to the centre of the room he bent all his will to the suppression of the elements, tightening his grip under their squirming, screaming protest. When he was satisfied they were in his control he raised both hands and commanded without mercy...

”Burn him! Strike him down until nothing but ash is left!” Lightning struck outward from his hands, bolts of flame and frost burst forth in all directions. The earth shuddered in anger and fear. The chamber became a light show of power as explosions and juts of earth rose then fell.

”Mala’kal...” Echoed a voice around him, shadows running and spinning across the walls. He was everywhere, anywhere at once. One moment he spotted his shape, the next it was gone no sooner than he could deliver a strike of elemental fury.

”...Mala’kal” it taunted again. Close this time, so he rounded and fired off beams of lightning at the far wall.

”Stay still dam you! Coward! I will kill you! just like I did those trolls!” he roared, his temper long lost as he ruthlessly pummelled the elements into doing his bidding, each blow harder than the last.

The taunting was infuriating, each time he thought he had him he disappeared in a dance of shadows, the air filled with static and heat. His brow soaked with sweat, turning and twisting this way and that, hoping to strike a blow. He listened between bolts, between thunder and explosions.

Is he there, is he there... there!

”Fath-...”

He rounded, lightning leaving his shaking fingers before he could even register what his target was. Shards and veins of lightning surged and danced, striking flesh and bowling the victim to the hard stone wall, back first. As the lightning ended, and the body slumped, sliding down, he realised...

Varanak.

The young Orc had been struck in the side, it was not a killing blow, but certainly mortal. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as smoke rose from his charred body, blood seeped from the wound as he lay gasping for air.

”S-son...?”