Whispered Spells and Elvish Steel - an Anthology of Fantasy SD Shorts

Part 4 - Steel against Shadow

The mist hesitated, apparently so it could consider Echo's challenge.  Then the mist was dissipating to reveal a tall, slender creature with pale skin and long, black hair in an intricate braid.  Dressed in loose, flowing black clothing, it immediately flashed a rapacious smile which lent a feral tint to its sculpted features.

"Always happy to indulge the whims of a Yngling champion," he said, his strangely high yet still masculine voice marking him as a male.  He then sinuously bowed in mocking respect before smoothly drawing a sword that looked as if it was made from the same black ice the spear had been.

"You don't mind if I bring a few friends, do you, Echo?" the dark elf asked.  And before the tired Viking could respond, the pale creature was waving his hands and chanting in an incomprehensible language.  And Echo watched as Pedro sat up and slowly climbed to his feet.  A rustling of jungle growth against the steady hiss of the rain and a quick glance yielded Rodrigez walking stiffly out of the bush, dark jungle soil liberally covering him.

"Damn," Echo said with a hiss.  And, with a gesture from the dark elf, the two reanimated bodyguards looked over at him, regarding him with milky white orbs.

"Surely you're familiar with necromancy, Yngling," the dark elf said in an almost conversational tone.  "Considering it gave you a one way trip to the underworld thousands of years ago."  Another gesture and the two reanimated bodyguards bolted towards Echo, moving faster than any human could as their fingers sprouted claws and their mouths, fangs.

A hard twist allowed Echo to elude Pedro.  And, unfortunately, it put him directly into Rodrigez's path.  He grunted as the former bodyguard smashed into him, the impact driving the wind from his lungs.

Yet again Echo's long dormant battle instincts saved him.  Even as Rodrigez clawed at his face and attempted to sink his new fangs into the Viking's neck, he quickly reset his feet and took hold of the writhing undead by the head even as he adjusted his grip on his sword.  A quick twist and he was in position to hammer Wardragon through the creature's back.

Considering this thing was recently brought back from the dead as a necromancy-fueled zombie, Echo certainly didn't think a mere sword through the back would be enough to do the creature in.  Wardragon, on the other hand, had different ideas.

Rodrigez silently jerked as the blade flared with runic light.  Then he was exploding into a thousand fragments as Wardragon sent a pulse of energy rushing through it so massive that the necrotic flesh couldn't contain it.  Echo winced as several bloody chunks bounced off his face.  Then he was straightening back up and looking over at the dark elf.

"Shall we try this again, elf?" he said tautly, bringing the flaming sword back up to a guard position.

Instead of being dismayed at the destruction of his minion, the dark elf smirked.

"Absolutely," he said with an inclination of his head.  Then a sweeping gesture was sending Pedro back in, the dark elf following close behind with his own blade of black ice at the ready.

Echo ducked a wild swing from the zombie's clawed hand and planted a boot in his ribs, knocking Pedro aside.  Just in time to block a slash at his midsection from the dark elf.

"I had almost forgotten you Ynglings enjoyed your melee," the dark elf said with a light tone as he took a quick step back to adjust his stance before moving back in, black-ice sword swinging.  "The more bodies about, the better!"

The elf's eyes flickered over to the anxiously waiting Nuxana.

"Perhaps I should just kill her right now, reanimate her and force you to kill her again," he said, returning his attention to Echo.  "Would you enjoy that kind of melee, Yngling?  Killing your patron to keep her from undead hell?"

Echo knocked aside the dark elf's lunge that was launched in the middle of his words, the elf trying to take advantage of any distraction the Viking was feeling.

"I certainly get the feeling you would, dark elf," the warrior grimly replied.  He then was forced to lean to the side to avoid another one of Pedro's wild attacks.  This time he counterattacked, letting the undead bodyguard go by before he smoothly cut the man diagonally in half with a hard, two-handed slash with his rune sword.

Again Wardragon flared to brilliant life, the metal dancing with flames as it passed easily through Pedro's recently alive flesh.  And, as Rodrigez had before, Pedro then exploded as the sword again sent a pulse of magical energy through his necrotic body to rip him spectacularly into pieces.

Watching a piece of his former minion fly past his head with yet another smirk, the dark elf quietly laughed.

"You wouldn't be wrong there, Echo," he said.  He quickly moved back in and, for a long moment, the two traded hard swings, neither giving or taking an inch.

"Once I send you back to hell, then have my way with the woman, I will carry on with my blood games.  Perhaps I'll even find that gateway stone and release more of my people into your world so they can help," the dark elf said, stepping back to listen to his own words for a moment even as he watched Echo's face for a reaction.

"That's not going to happen," Echo quietly promised, sucking in damp, jungle air as quickly as he dared without letting on that he was exhausted.  The elf was simply too fast, too strong to be defeated as a mortal man would be.  The Yngling knew he was going to die out here, in this damp, green place.  Die for a second time.

He abruptly and resolutely squared his shoulders.  'But not without taking you with me, monster!' he silently vowed.  And, with a wild war cry, he went on the offensive.

In mid-sentence, the dark elf paused to let a sculpted eyebrow climb as he watched the big human charge.  Then he was batting aside Echo's almost clumsy thrust to smoothly bury his black-ice sword to the hilt in Echo's chest.

"And so you die, champion," the dark elf said with almost a look of disappointment as Echo sagged against him.  "Again!"  He then looked over at a shocked Nuxana.  "Prepare to have..."

The dark elf didn't get the chance to finish.  As he was turning his attention away from the stricken Echo to address Nuxana, the Yngling summoned the last bit of his dying strength.  And, with a hard swing of the rune sword, he removed the dark elf's head from the rest of him.  He then let the elf's body fall away from him, the dead grip on the black-ice sword doing the work of pulling the blade, a cold bar of pain and suffering, free of his own body.  That done, he slowly crumpled to the ground.

"No!" Nuxana cried, rushing forward to catch Echo's head before it hit the ground.  "No, no, no, you can't go!"

"I fear I must, my lady," Echo said in a failing voice.  "I have done my part.  I have saved your bloodline from this monster, a worthy sacrifice in saving so many other lives.  And now...now I return to the darkness."

The rest faded into black.  But a black that didn't last long.  Echo found himself blinking as a brilliant light filled his vision, calling him up from the ground.

"Come, Echo, son of Bard, son of Yger," a firm woman's voice said.  And, as he peered through the light, he watched a winged woman step forward, garbed in armor and wearing a sword at her waist.

"You have served long enough in the underworld.  Your sacrifice was true, and done with a pure heart.  Now, you will eat and drink with your fellow heroes."  She held out a gauntleted hand.

"In Valhalla."