Heir of the Elements Page 6

  If Kraimaster was fazed by his enemy’s words, he didn’t show it. His hardened face remained with its usual frown.

  “I used the screeching banshee!” Draknorr cackled. “Oh, you should have heard her crying for her life, crying out your name for aid. It was pathetic!” His laughter grew loud and erratic. “Even as the Banshee tore her apart, she maintained the shield over the children. She could have saved herself had she not wasted the protection on them. That’s why only fools care for others. It brings only destruction on oneself.” He nodded his head. “And now look at you, Drogan. Ready to give your life for the same brat your wife died defending.”

  Falcon’s mind received a burst of clear shock. He stood in place, but his mind was speeding through space. Were Draknorr’s words really true? He had no recollection of such an event. It had to be a lie; it just had to be.

  “Oh, so you don’t know, boy,” said Draknorr, noticing Falcon’s confusion. His black armor plates clanked against each other as he took a few steps closer. The fauld jingled loudest of all. “I suspect a mind wielder’s work. Grandmaster Zoen, perhaps?”

  Falcon ran to Kraimaster, his breaths heavy. “Is this true, professor?”

  Kraimaster turned to Falcon with vengeful eyes, and for once he understood why the professor always hated him so. A lump formed in his throat as he struggled to apologize, but nothing came.

  “Ztay out of my way, Mizter Hyatt.” The professor’s bony jaw trembled in anger. “I won’t allow you to die and make my beloved’z zacrifice be in vain.”

  Slowly, Falcon moved back. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to get his hands on Draknorr, he could not. This was a one-on-one affair.

  “I’ll kill you both!” said Draknorr. He unsheathed the long double-edged sword that hung from his waist.

  With a puff of smoke, an overly long scythe materialized in Kraimaster’s hands. Its handle was pristine black. The long crescent blade at the end glistened as the moonlight bounced off it.

  The weapons clashed.

  Kraimaster twirled his scythe. The bladed part hooked his opponent’s weapon. He brought it down. The sword hit the ground.

  Falcon held his breath.

  Draknorr pulled his sword free, but before he had a chance to mount an attack, Kraimaster came down on him with a flurry of scythe attacks.

  The bladed weapons clanked as they smashed into each other time and time again.

  Suddenly, a burst of red lightning burst from the sword’s tip.

  Kraimaster grunted as the lightning spread through his body. A second later, however, the lightning disappeared into his chest. He huffed and blew. Countless webs of red, blue, and green lighting flew from his mouth.

  Falcon stood starry-eyed. He’d never seen anyone mix the elements like that.

  As Draknorr stumbled back, trying to avoid the rippling attacks, a dark coffin took form behind him out of thin air. The dark wielder jumped back, unknowingly throwing himself into the trap. The black door shut, drowning away his angry yelps.

  Falcon allowed himself a breath. Finally, that monster was going to die.

  Kraimaster glanced at the ground under him. His eyes widened. “When did he have time to—” A giant scaly hand burst from the ground and took hold of the professor. Clear pus burst from the hand as its tightened its grip. With every passing second, the professor’s face turned a deeper shade of red.

  “Let me help you!” cried Falcon. He readied himself.

  “No,” said Kraimaster. He looked over at the coffin. “Liquid Decimation!”

  Immediately the coffin turned into a thick liquid. Inside the moving mass of fluid Falcon made out a form struggling within. It kicked and punched wildly.

  The coffin dissolved, and Draknorr crashed to the ground. Dark water dripped from every inch that covered his armor. Opposite of him, Kraimaster was also free. The hand that had encased him moments ago had now crumpled uselessly to the grass.

  “Not bad, Drogan,” said Draknorr. “A prolonged battle against you could lead to my demise.” He held up his hands, as if baiting Kraimaster into attacking. “Unfortunately for you, I am not alone. The power of the Blood Empress is with me.” He threw a small capsule that couldn’t be bigger than a few inches into the grass. It burst instantly. A puff of smoke spread from it. At first it appeared as a shapeless mass of nothing, but slowly it took the form of a cloaked figure. The figure wore a feminine metal mask, dry blood gushing out of her eyes.

  Blood Empress! mused Falcon. He had seen the leader of the Suteckh only once before. Of course back then he had no idea that it was Aya’s sister who was behind the mask.

  “Come to me,” roared Draknorr. The ghostly image of the empress screeched a loud, unnatural sound as it drove into the dark knight’s chest. His eyes glowed a blinding red. “Yes! The power of her highness has healed and powered me twofold. In your weakened state, you have no chance, Drogan.”

  Still frowning, the professor waved his hand. The scythe reappeared in his bony hands. “Not even the Blood Emprezz will be able to change your fate, Kraimaster. You zhall perizh tonight.”

  Despite Kraimaster’s brave front, Falcon was worried. The professor had obviously drained much of his energy. He no longer cared. He was going to help whether Kraimaster wanted his aid or not.

  “Don’t interfere!” ordered Draknorr. He brought both his hands together. Out of the balled fists a pale creature appeared. It resembled a malnourished woman mixed with a crow. Wrinkled skin sagged from her face. Hollowed pits resided where her eyes should have been. Instead of hands, she had long wings with dark plumage. “Get him, Screeching Banshee.”

  Screeching Banshee. It’s the same creature that killed Kraimaster’s wife. Before Falcon could form a strategy the woman took to the air, and then flew straight down at him, screeching loudly as it dove.

  Every ounce of Falcon’s body begged him to cover his ears. He had to drown out the sounds that rattled in his brain, threatening to drive him mad. Against his will, he forced his energy to drop in temperature. With a flick of his chilled fingers, icy spears shot forward. They clashed into the creature and dissolved harmlessly.

  What in the world? His emblem changed into a deep red. Fire spheres whizzed from his hands and into the woman’s chest. Again, the attacks dissolved harmlessly.

  Falcon braced himself, for the creature was now directly above him. It opened his screeching mouth even wider, exposing a set of evenly-aligned fangs. Falcon reached for his broadsword and drew it out. Without time to properly aim, he swung it wildly, barely missing the creature’s head by inches.

  The banshee flew back. Its saggy skin wobbled as it circled above. His nose wrinkled as the putrid stench of the banshee reached him. It smelled of dry blood mixed with rotten corpse.

  The monster drew its sharp talons back and flew back in.

  I got it this time. He brought up a fire net. The creature was coming down with such velocity that there was no way it could escape. But before he could bring his plans to fruition, the professor tackled him to the ground. He rolled through the grass violently, eating a mouthful of grass in the process.

  Falcon stood up angrily, ready to demand an answer for the professor’s actions. However, he grew silent as he noticed the blood dripping from Kraimaster’s mouth and nose. He had six large holes in his robe, where the banshee had pierced him with its talons. The creature’s torso lay on the ground as well. Its head had landed several feet away.

  “This is priceless!” yelled Draknorr. “The first serpent died saving this fool of a child and now the second serpent as well!”

  Out of breath, Falcon threw himself by the dying professor. He looked down at the pale face that had tormented him for so many years. But, somehow, all the hate he had felt for the man was no longer present.

  “Why did you do it?” demanded Falcon, his chest aching. “I had it in my grasp already. I had it.”

  Kraimaster opened and closed his eyes slowly. “You were going to die. Had to. Banzhee can onl
y be harmed by dark attackz.”

  “You did this to save me?” asked Falcon. The hollow feeling deep in his stomach intensified.

  “Farewell, Mizter Hyatt,” whispered Kraimaster. His eyes closed. The frown remained.

  Falcon’s fury intensified. He craved nothing more now than to end the dark wielder, once and for all. With balled fists, he stood.

  “Yes!” sneered Draknorr. “Now to take care of…” He paused. His head moved around as if he were searching for something. “Impossible, no one can escape my possession.”

  As if on cue, the door burst open. A shaky Aya stood by the entrance of her home. The dark rims around her eyes were no longer there, but she looked even angrier than before. Her gaze wandered over to the deceased Kraimaster and then back to Draknorr.

  “I don’t know how you escaped, girl, but you won’t live to tell the tale.”

  Aya took off in a sprint. Draknorr fired balls of dark mass.

  Falcon heart turned into ice. He knew he was too far away to help Aya. The attacks were too close to her. There was no way she could dodge.

  To his surprise she didn’t try to dodge. Instead water engulfed her entire body as she sprinted. She grabbed the balls of mass with her aqua hands and crushed them as if they were nothing.

  “Skeletal hand!”

  A hand of dark bone burst from the ground. It took Aya in its grasp.

  “Now die.” Draknorr cackled. “Crush her.”

  Something was wrong. Falcon could see the hand squeezing, but Aya looked calm, almost bored even.

  A second later, the sound of crackling bone echoed into the night.

  Draknorr’s eyes intensified again as his attack burst into hundreds of pieces. Out of the debris emerged Aya, still running, and still fully encased in water.

  “Lightning wall.” Red lightning crackled around Draknorr. “Let’s see your water get me through aarghhh—”

  “As you wish,” said Aya.

  A bubble of water surrounded the dark wielder’s armored face. His lightning dissolved as he flailed from side to side. Both his emblems glistened, ready to form an attack. Two large blocks of ice fell on his hands, crushing them to the floor. Even through the water, Falcon could hear a gargled scream.

  Aya now stood directly in front of Draknorr. She touched the water on her prisoner’s head with the tip of her finger and it turned into ice.

  Before Falcon could assess what was going on, Aya uppercutted the block of ice. A thunderous blow echoed as the ice along with the helmet blew to the wind.

  Falcon stood in shock. He had always thought Draknorr to be a human. But the red hollowed eyes, the four-pronged jaw that opened widely, revealing two sets of tongues, and the fur-covered face were definitely not human. He fell to his knees, his mangled arms dangling uselessly by his side as he looked up at the girl before him in awe, as if still in disbelief of what had just happened.

  “This isn’t over, girl,” Draknorr finally said, his voice filled with wounded pride. “I took your sister, and I will take more and turn them before this ends.”

  “The dead can’t take anyone,” said Aya, as calmly as if she were describing the weather. Her hand drove back. A water lion appeared around it. A heart-stopping crunch emitted from Draknorr’s neck as the punch landed under his chin, snapping his head back.

  The hateful red in his eyes dimmed into dark coals as his head bounced off the ground and his breathing ceased.

  Chapter 8

  The three of them walked silently through the forest as they headed to Falcon’s former home. Once Draknorr had been killed, Falcon had space wielded Kraimaster’s lifeless body back to K’ran’s home. Immediately after that, they hurried out of the city before the guards arrived in full force.

  Falcon glimpsed over at Aya from time to time, trying to gauge what she was feeling. She walked with her head up, but Falcon could tell by her stern face that there was much going on inside her head. He had been far from her for months. He’d thought that seeing her again would be a cause for celebration, but instead it turned out to be a nightmare.

  “Hear that?” asked Faith, a second before Falcon asked the same question.

  “I think it came from the left,” Aya added.

  “Very good, Nakatomi,” said a cheerful voice Falcon hadn’t heard in quite some time. A tree before him twisted in circles until it became a mangled mess of dark brown. A second later Sheridan stepped out. He wore his usual trench coat that reached down to his knees. The tattoo over his right eye stood out from his pale skin. “I was hoping that I could sneak up on you, but I see that won’t be happening.”

  Aya turned to him. “What are you doing here, Sheridan? I thought you were going to find Grandmaster Zoen.”

  “I did.” He scratched his head. “Well, he and Kraimaster found me to be precise.” He scanned his surroundings with a confused look. “Speaking of that. Where is Hyromi? I thought she would be with you. And where is Kraimaster? Zoen sent him ahead to assess the situation in Ladria.”

  Falcon cleared his throat. “He’s…” A pit formed in his throat. Days ago he wouldn’t have thought Kraimster’s death would affect him in any way. But now that it had actually passed, he found himself in disbelief.

  “He’s dead,” whispered Faith. “Murdered by Draknorr. And Hyromi, well.” Her eyes met those of Sheridan’s. “We heard she was badly injured in a fight with the poison wielder, Dokua. We’re hoping she’s with her father.”

  “That’s disheartening news,” said a low voice. The air beside Sheridan twisted, and out of it emerged an ancient man with a large hump rising from his back. His dark robe flapped slowly as he scratched his wrinkle-marred face.

  “Hello, Grandmaster Zoen,” said Falcon, surprised that the ancient wielder had appeared out of a space rift. The grandmaster was powerful, yes, but he was a mind wielder, not a space wielder. That was until he noticed Sheridan’s glowing emblem. Of course, Sheridan wielded him here.

  The grandmaster looked at around sadly. “Where is his body?”

  “Back at my master’s home,” said Falcon. “We learned that Emperor Romus is also there.”

  “And Hyromi, too, I’m sure of it,” added Sheridan eagerly. He looked over at Zoen. “Master, you must head over to Ladria and avenge Professor Kraimaster’s death. You’re the only one capable.”

  Zoen’s cane materialized in front of him. He moved forward at a snail’s pace toward K’ran’s cabin.

  “You’re going the opposite way,” said Sheridan, pointing back toward Ladria. “Draknorr is that way.”

  “I think you’ll find that the Suteckh general will no longer be a threat to the people of Va’siel,” declared Zoen matter-of-factly. He didn’t bother to stop, or even turn as he spoke.

  Sheridan gazed over at Falcon, Aya, and Faith with an awed expression plastered across his face. “The three of you are amazing. You defeated one of the most powerful wielders of this era.”

  “Faith and I didn’t do anything,” said Falcon.

  Now Sheridan craned his neck toward Aya. His jaw was so wide open that Falcon thought it might crash to the floor at a moment’s notice.

  “Don’t say anything,” said Aya. “I mean it.” She still had the same bored expression on her face as she trudged behind the grandmaster.

  Falcon looked on sadly at both girls. One was being hunted down by a mass murderer who had lived over ten thousand years and had defeated armies single-handedly. The other had just found out her entire life was based on a lie, and to top it all off, her family was dead center in the Suteckh invasion.

  Playing with his fingers nervously, he tried to find the right words to say to them, but no matter how deeply he searched, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was nothing he could say to help them.

  Once again he was that child who stood defenseless as Volcseck murdered his mother before his eyes. Once again he was that boy who waited all night for his brother to return, the same brother who disappeared and abandoned him to fend for himsel
f. Despite all the power he had gained throughout the years, he remained as powerless as ever.

  He rubbed his stomach, taking in the warm feeling of anger stirring within. If he was to help them, he needed to rely on that unholy power, even if it meant his own demise.

  ~~~

  The air smelled of medicine as they knocked on the door. Falcon felt weird doing so. With the death of K’ran, the old cabin belonged to him for all intents and purposes. Nonetheless, it felt wrong to simply barge in.

  He staggered back as the door suddenly swung open with tremendous force. It snapped loudly as it bounced off the interior wall. A short, twitchy woman stood to greet them.

  “Good to see some people using the door,” said Doctor Solis. “Been having so many people appear out of strange ripples in the sky lately.”

  “Doctor Solis!” Aya exclaimed. For the first time in hours, Aya formed a smile as she hugged her medical mentor. “It’s so good to finally see you.”

  The doctor tapped Aya’s back awkwardly, almost as if she were trying to beat something out of her. “Very good to see you alive and well. Perhaps you can explain how people seem to be appearing everywhere.”

  “That’s actually my fault,” said Falcon. “I space wielded a group of children here and…”

  “The dead man,” finished the doctor.

  “Yes,” said Falcon, a bit irritated. It bothered him how she spoke of Kraimaster as if he weren’t even human. But he remained quiet. He knew the doctor didn’t mean it; it was just the way she was. Always rush, rush, rush.

  “What are you doing here, doctor?” asked Aya.

  “Emperor asked that I come here check on daughter. I come do that but then stay to keep on checking on her. Then kids come. Very malnourished. Nursing them back to health.”

  “Hyromi is fine. I knew it!” Sheridan rushed past the doctor so fast that he thought he might knock the small lady over. “Where is she? What do you mean by continuing to check on her? Is she in some kind of pain?”

  “No. No pain whatsoever. However—”

  Sheridan did a small dance which looked like some crazy mix of jumping jacks and spins.