Darkness and Light - Beth Cam (read after .TXT) 📗

his next command.
"My Lord."
A brawny, muscular man, tall and powerful strode up to him as he pulled on the reigns, pausing. His eyes never leaving the wreckage.
"They're all dead?"
"Yes my lord. Every last one of them."
He froze.
Channeling the same energy, granted to him through his ancestry, he allowed his vision to tare each and every crevice apart as he searched for any signs of life apart from those of his men and the few slaves they may have acquired. There was something and anger threatened to fill his mind.
He dug his heels into the sides off the stallion and urged it forward at a slow trot while his eyes continued to scour over the wreckage.
"You are sure?" He asked, turning back to his first in command.
"Yes my Lord. The last life taken was at the dead of night three days ago and since then we have gone over each and every nook and corner many a times. There is no more human life here apart from the few we have bound."
He regarded him cooly, his concentration however continued to delve in and out all around him as he searched for that human unmarked by the bind of a slave whom he knew to be still alive.
"Call ranks. I will speak to you all."
Ten minutes passed and the lines were made, soldiers stood to attention in straight lines, backs like a ruler and eyes forward as they awaited their lord's next command.
His eyes began to paint over his men, each man, he could feel their flow of magic strong around them and yet... No were near as strong as his own. He was the saviour of his race after all. Magic flowed through him like an ocean, vast and deep. He could sense all, feel all, and knew all, and that's why the second his eyes fell upon the soldier standing somewhat at the back, his eyes haunted but fiery, his stance firm but tired he knew... That was not one of his.
But he pretended to not notice, pretended to not see. If the man thought he could fool him than he was in for a surprise for no man could fool him and certainly not this insignificant piece of human trash.
Urging his stallion on at that same slow lazy speed of before he began to slowly circle the rank that held the imposter. His eyes however never falling anywhere near him, but rather on the men surrounding him.
It felt good. He felt like the predator, a lion, a wolf stalking he's prey, and when the right time came he would pounce, and rip it to shreds.
He pulled at his reigns when he came within body's length of the human, and allowed his eyes to rise once more over the ranks, before addressing them once more.
He enjoyed keeping them in order, keeping them waiting, keeping them alert, for he believed it made them dependable, loyal, and alert, but above all at that moment he enjoyed watching the human squirm.
His men, NEVER squirmed. And even without magic this man should have stood out like a sore thumb.
"Well done men. Very well done."
He looked down at his dark leather gloves and slowly pulled one off, revealing five perfect long digits, he balled it into a tight fist a proceeded to study it, as if he studied an artefact.
"But sadly... You missed one." His eyes shot up, two blazing fires of cold blue and landed directly on the eyes of the imposter, who took a step back, horror and panic covering his face. He had no chance of escape, the first step he took was interrupted as a blaze of blue fire shot out from the fingers of the dark rider freezing him in place.
Pain tore through his innards as if a stampede had been let loose inside and he could feel his blood beginning to boil. He was being cooked alive. He fell to his knees as his arms encircled his stomach than his head as the blue fire being channeled towards him rose from his body to his head.
"Agh!!!! Agh!!!" He yelled allowed, eyes clamped shut, body writhing on the floor as the pain overwhelmed him, but before he could burst, it all stopped. The earth went deadly still.
"Cunning. Very cunning."
The rider mused as he sided up to the fallen man, his eyes having returned to its normal vibrant colour of the sea.
"He pretended to be one of you and somehow deceived you."
He turned to face the first in command.
"Now I'm sure you will all enjoy showing him just how happy you all feel about it."
He slid his hand back into its glove before tipping his head to his men, and galloping off in the direction of the camp, leaving the unconscious human to the whims of wolves

 

 

 

 

 

 She cringed as the body was thrown in atop her – what she hoped would be the last body.
She had long since avoided looking at the faces of the corpses. Those that were still recognisable that is, as it had only brought pain and anguish to her. They had hated her in life, but still, the higher the pile rose, the less chance there was of her being discovered and thus, she felt indebted to each and every one.
Until this time, the fleeting glance she took stunned her. 

It was Balterzar, the son of the village Lord. The man who had throw her down that day and beaten her, the man who'd taken her ration and taunted her her whole life.
This time she didn't feel remorse. She couldn't. He had been evil in life and maybe he deserved to die...

She leaned back and closed her eyes tightly.
The smell. Ugh! She had grown used to it by then but still... It only grew worse.
She opened her eyes and stole another glance at the newest addition, wondering when he was killed and how long more it would be before he too would stink of death, but stopped as something caught her attention.
She propped her elbows up behind her, keeping her distance from the corpse jutting out by her side and starred hard ahead at the body of Balterzar before immediately falling back, her face, a mask of horror.
It was not the lack of light or the shadows that had caused the disfigured appearance she had thought she'd seen a moment before. It was real. Oh mercy. What had he gone through? What had the demons done?
One eye was closed, the other open, and not because he'd died that way but because his left eyelid had been ripped off. Blood caked its way down his face and his nose, broken several times, had been seemingly sliced too.
His bottom lip dangled of his face and his top one was covered in blood from a gash slithering across his top lip.
She stifled back the bile she felt rising up her throat like a flood, as her body began to shake. Still however, she could not tare her eyes away from the terrible sickening sight right above her. His mangled right ear, the left, completely gone and where it once was, a trail of blood. Than she noticed the clumps of dark brown hair missing on his scalp and the blood there, his fingers too on his left bloody hand half there, half gone. His other hand... She almost screamed.... Tears rushed to her eyes. He'd used his hands to beat her that day, she might have died and he would never have cared. But when she saw he's wrist, just his wrist and no hand, no hand but a bloody stump, she knew she'd take it all.
She'd allow him to beat her every day, all day, for the rest of her life as long as the pain he must have gone through had never touched him. Tears ran down her cheeks and she peeled her eyes from the horrors before past the pit's open mouth to... the sky. The light blue sky. And than the questions came. Would she ever go up there again? Could she? Knowing whatever did that to all these people was still up there, lurking about like ravenous wolves?
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to cry some more. She knew the answer of course.
She'd have too. Or she'd lived those past weeks through hellfire for no reason.

 

Chapter III

 

It was about midnight as he wandered out into the night past the guards, out the camp they had set up that day.
He could feel the magic all around him, pulling him, tugging him, beckoning him.
It rejuvenated him and gave him peace, peace that always fled as the day came.
He paused as he came to the middle of an empty dead field and took in a long deep breathe, closed his eyes and scanned the area around him for any possible destinations that may quell him of his thirst.
The Eastern parts of the kingdom had always held the most magic as this had once been where the Warriors of old had resided, but he needed a place where magic flowed the most free. 
He's vision led him to the place where they had once gathered... The village that still flickered with embers from the fire and carnage... His carnage and he finally exhaled deeply, satisfied, as he had found his place of solace.

 

It was now or never. They had left. She knew it. Something told her the sound of a stampede of hooves, stomping against the ground above her, racing through the town square that afternoon had indeed been the demons, finally leaving their filthy remains behind.
But still, fear... Oh devouring and almost paralysing... Almost paralysing fear clung to her like a cloak. She needed to ignore it though. For if she didn't leave tonight she may never get the chance again and with the way her stomach twisted and turned and her head continued to pound, she knew, she may very well be dead soon.
Though weak, she managed to hoist her whole body up and out of the hole she had flung herself into weeks before, after the sickening and horrible feat of climbing over the stacked corpses of the villagers. The moment solid ground met her tired body, she collapsed and sagged into a heap, unable to move even an inch.
It was a surprise to realise just how weak she was, but then after days off not exercising her muscles beyond the small limitations given her in that tiny space, she guessed it was to be expected.
She lay flat on her stomach, Her breaths were long but thin, wheezing and desperate...
The stench of what lay below still lingered heavily in the air about her, but needless to say, as the gentle breeze brushed by, it was fresher and cleaner than anything she could remember during the last few weeks.
A tear slid down her cheek as she lay there, processing, while relief flooded her mind.
Closing her eyes, she could hear the strong persistent sound of her heart beat.
The sound of life... Reminding