Shadows Reborn (2nd Book)

Chapter 13: Consequences of Pride

Althalos woke up late, and when he sat up from his sleeping cot, he saw that they were all readying themselves up, storing their supplies, while the two Nightwalkers still kept their watch. The dragon was still asleep, as was Alianor, who was asleep in a cot just beside the young Shadow Champion.

"Now that you're awake, talk." He heard the gruff voice of his master, his foster father, Fendrel Ulricsson. "Report to me whatever happened during your excursion."

He was kneeling down to Althalos's height, his eyes as piercing as the harshness of his tone of voice.

"Nothing of importance, Fendrel," Althalos replied. "The Lord has instructed me to retrieve a scroll, and I had found and taken it."

"All this just for a scroll?" Fendrel said with an exasperated air. "Do you not realize how many miles we could've traversed if you hadn't gone back for this foolish venture?"

A slight tinge of red tainted the Champion of Merec's vision, but the same being fromwhich he was a champion of intruded at the right time, whispering in his mind.

He is not worth our time. Leave him to his foolishness.

Althalos left the old man to his business, standing up and walking away, leaving a red-faced man that was his foster father. He trudged away from their camp, scouring the flat lands, seeing nothing but tall grass and shrubbery everywhere. He was out of earshot before he knew it, and out of sight either, as the tall plants shrouded him from the others' vision.

The voice of the demon lord echoed in his consciousness again, this time sounding as harsh as a demon can be.

I expect you to reach this stupid orchish encampment within a week, or I will kill you all. I honestly cannot believe you are wasting your time chasing after a lost hope. Face reality, mortal. Ayleth is probably dead and in some orc's large belly. So I suggest you...

Althalos stiffened, and interrupted him, cutting off the Lord of Shadowy Death, an action that surprised both of them.

How about I suggest you quiet yourself, my Lord? Your cynical views do no good to my own.

There was a tone of sarcasm coloring his voice, and then there was the surprise he felt afterwards, two things he shouldn't be able to decipher, let alone feel. The Lord of Shadowy Death, in his rage, raided the young man's mind, sending ripples of destruction cascading into Althalos.

Again, the young man was surprised, but this time, it was accompanied by the feeling of pain.

Pain itself was powerful enough to break the Lord of Shadowy Death's enchantment, tearing into his intellect, and Althalos was forcibly brought down to his knees, looking up into the glare of the sun. He moaned in pain, clutching his head in a futile attempt to supress the pain. It was like before, as if something was drilling into his mind, or something was banging on his head with a war hammer, cracking it open to see its contents.

I don't think you learned your lesson.

But Althalos, in the spell wrought on by Merec himself, did not know the meaning of pain anymore, and once he felt it, he cried and moaned and groaned, but curbed the temptation to let it all out and scream, because that wouldn't do well to the others. He may have been out of earshot, but a simple loud scream would attract all of their immediate attention.

Suddenly, a black man appeared in front of him. It was a black shadowy figure, with no tangible face, but it managed to grab Althalos's throat, and bring him up in the air, slowly choking him as the Shadow Champion tried to take its hand away, only to grasp at thin air.