Blue Words

Making Amends - Part I

Making Amends

"There are some mistakes which must be atoned for."

The smell of burning flesh drifted on the air as the flaming axe did its duty. The pain soon took its toll and Gudrik's concentration wained, the axe collapsed back into flittering droplets of blue. Kyran began to squirm and sat up, eventually climbing to his feet. Dusting himself off, he walked to Gudrik, flanked by his troops. The front of his suit was scorched and hung open revealing the slowly closing wound. Blood still ran from the deep gash as it healed. Not red human blood, rich, blue Warlock blood. Panic widened Gudrik's eyes, as much as he tried not to show it.

"You aren't the only one who can avoid death Gudrik of The Twelve," he said with an eerie calmness. "The arrogance of Warlocks has always astounded me. For so long you simply assumed you were immortal....invincible.” He walked closer to Gudrik, circling him. "I experimented on your kin, as I worked my way through them you know. A wise warrior knows his enemies as intimately as he knows himself.” Kyran kneeled beside the Warlock, clearly unafraid. "I found that under the right influence you are as frail as the rest of us. The amulet was my guide; all of its materials had some effect. Most simply slowed your healing or subdued your abilities, but night stone, now night stone on the other hand really allowed me to inflict pain. It was almost as toxic to your kind as the amulet itself. That's what you have lodged in you as we speak, burning with its toxic reaction.”

He turned to his troops and barked an order, "Secure them!"

"Silver nitrate?" the big man boomed. Kyran shook his head. The Hammer walked up to Gudrik and punched him in the face with his giant fist. The blow was crushing, knocking him flat onto his back. Meanwhile his counterparts dealt with George and Kahn. Gudrik's vision blurred. He felt himself being dragged by his foot. His awareness became distant. He soon faded from consciousness into the black embrace of sleep.

A firm slap suddenly snatched Gudrik back from his dream world, back into the throbbing agony of reality. Before him he saw that George and Kahn had joined the others. The pain streaking throughout his body was blinding. He was no stranger to suffering, his healing gifts had never allowed him respite from pain, but this was hard to block out. No matter what barriers he put in place, this pain seemed to ooze through. His veins were pumping fire throughout his body.

He carefully searched the room, quivering with effort as he willed his head to rise from the ground. He was now lying within the thick ring of salt. Combined with the night stone lodged in his flesh, he may as well have had the amulet resting on his chest once again. He tried to move, but restraints held his wrists and ankles tightly fixed together.

"He's back with us sir," boomed The Hammer, towering over him. Gudrik spied the blue talon tattooed on his neck, identical to Ami’s. Suddenly he understood why these troops were not sleeping with the rest.

"If I knew for sure my blood grafts were permanent you would have been beheaded by now," said Kyran, who had relieved himself of his soiled jacket and shirt.

"Strong words," strained Gudrik, "but we both know a mortal life would be the least of your problems should I die."

"Possibly. In truth I cannot know for sure what would happen. It could be a catastrophe, it could be nothing," he said, wandering amongst the captives and examining them. "The world is a much bigger place now Gudrik. If it was to be released, I could allow it to have this land and simply move my empire to the other side of the globe."

"You!Woman!" Gudrik gasped looking up at one of the greys. "Put one of those bullets between my eyes now so I don't have to listen to this any longer.” Kyran ignored him.