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Chapter 22 - Rage
🕑 Added 2021-06-08 10:57:02 +0000 UTCHump didn’t think as he stormed into the chamber. He stabbed the end of his staff into the stomach of the closest kobold, the one that had been crouched over its injured comrade just a moment ago. It doubled over from the force of the blow, letting out a winded scream. Before it could fall to its knees, Hump snarled, “Blast!”
Where the strike from his staff did some damage, the blast spell turned the kobold to mush. It shot back through the air, hitting the chamber wall at the back with a crack. It stuck to the wall for a moment, as if its body were suspended by some invisible force. Then slowly, it slid down to the ground where it lay still. A trail of blood stained the wall behind it.
Hump glared around the chamber like a feral beast, all tiredness forgotten. Raw anger and hate filled him, and he felt his essence burning within him in kind. The other kobolds backed away from him. The injured one on the ground scrambled to get back, gasping in pain from an arrow in its side.
Toward the back, the bodies of two men were hanging from a wooden beam by their ankles. Their necks had been slit. Blood still trickled from the wound collecting in buckets placed beneath them. There was a large cage with a dozen or so prisoners inside, their faces a mess of bruises and cuts, visible even through the dirt and grime. Around the cage, skulls hung from the bars, staring in at the prisoners as if to remind them of their fate. Bloody flesh still clung to the bone.
Vamir cut down another of the kobolds with his sword, while Bud darted to the back of the chamber where the final one stood. He moved fast—noticeably faster than Hump had seen him move before—a trail of blue light followed him. He plunged his sword through the chest of the final kobold and flung it to the ground.
Only the injured one at Hump’s feet remained.
Hump stared down at it, the creature crying and shrieking in that sickly chittering tongue. It sounded like it was begging for its life; Hump wondered how many people it had killed that were doing the same. His rage burnt like fire. He clenched his fist around his staff imagining all the terrible things he could do to it. He wanted to tear it apart. He wanted to rip it limb from limb and feed it pieces of itself until it choked on its own blood. He wanted it to suffer like these people had.
His essence reciprocated his hate. The icy cold of using too much essence replaced by the burning heat of his rage. It stormed within him, slamming against his insides, desperate for release. Begging to be set free. Urging him to give himself to it.
Gods how he wanted to. The things he would do to this beast…
“Hump,” Celaine said, “Are you okay?”
Hump turned on her and she recoiled. He blinked. He saw confusion when she met his eyes.
Will you control the magic, or will the magic control you? The old man’s words echoed in his mind.
Hump forced himself to take a breath and nodded at her. “I’m good,” he said, though even to his own ears he sounded distant.
He wasn’t good.
He’d failed at the most important thing a wizard could by allowing his emotions to control him. By letting his magic control him. Wizards had to be wise with how they used their power. If they couldn’t handle that, he would lose himself to the power, and every wizard knew where that path led. Warlocks were not different to the monsters Hump sought to destroy, they were puppets to their essence, consumed by emotion. The old man would have been disappointed in Hump for coming so close, and that thought stung.
Chin up, he thought to himself. Collect yourself. Now’s not the time.
He drew another deep breath, using the River and the Waves technique to calm himself. He envisioned the river coursing through him, connecting every part of him. And he released his rage to it and returned the storm of power that was surging through him to its waves.
Celaine studied him for a moment, glanced down at the injured kobold, then looked away in disgust, turning her attention to the beaten woman lying on the ground nearby. She hurried over to her side and knelt to inspect her.
The woman threw her arms around Celaine’s neck, hugging her tightly as she sobbed. Thanking her again and again. Celaine held her arms out at her sides as if she didn’t know where to put them, then awkwardly, she wrapped them around the woman.
“You’re okay,” Celaine said softly. “We’ve got you now. We’re going to get you all out of here.”
Hump looked down at the cowering kobold beneath him and paused. He wasn’t going to allow his power to control him, that didn’t mean he’d spare it. These creatures were beyond mercy.
“What do we do with it?” Bud asked nearby. He’d opened the cage and was helping the other villagers free. They hobbled out in a cluster, appearing starved and beaten, perhaps even worse than those they’d found in the other chamber. The kobolds had been cruel to them.
Hump didn’t even glance at the knight as he raised his staff in both hands. He didn’t have magic left to spare, so he drove the staff down upon the creature’s head with a thunderous crack. Its skull caved in beneath the blow, and the kobold went still.
“Hump!” Bud said, shocked. “Gods, Hump, it was at our mercy.”
Hump looked at him coldly. “Then it should count its lucky stars that it got to die quickly.”
The knight frowned at him. His eyes went to the weeping woman, the two bodies strung up and bled dry, the cluster of emaciated prisoners. “Yeah. I guess it should.”
“Not like the stories, is it?” Hump said, a little more harshly than he intended. But it was a harsh reality, and he was far too tired to care. His body felt heavy. The chill had returned now that he was thinking straight again. He wanted a quiet place to sit down beside a fire and some hot soup; there was still work to do before that.
“It’s worse,” Bud said quietly. His eyes looked distant. Hollow.
“Bud…” Hump began, but before he could finish, light returned to the knight’s eyes.
Bud looked at him with all the courage and valour of a knight. “This is why what we do is so important. We did the gods’ work today, I’m sure of it. Kelisia was guiding us.”
Hump frowned but said nothing. Any god that had guided his hand today was no god he’d want to follow. What he’d had done hadn’t been honourable. It had been cold, calculative, and monstrous. He knew it was necessary—they could allow a kobold to go free—but it was his lack of guilt that worried him. The creature had begged, and he’d slaughtered it.
“I’ll see to the villagers,” Bud said. He turned away, back straight, somehow managing to force a smile onto his face.
Hump watched as the knight introduced himself to the villagers that remained, freeing them from their prison and taking charge as if it were second nature. They didn’t need a hedge wizard; they needed a Chosen. They needed to feel like the gods were watching over them after all, and that there was meaning behind their suffering. Bud gave them that. And hell, maybe the knight was right, and the gods really were watching.
Hump limped over to where Vamir was standing near the back of the den, leaving Bud to play his role as the noble knight. The den sloped downward into a shallow pit. Blue leaves and grass gathered from the grove were strewn about to form a nest, and on them were eggs. Lots of eggs. Most were about the size of a fist, with a pale red shell lined with black veins, but toward the back were a handful that were larger. The scaledbrutes must have been a pair.
“I didn’t know kobolds lay eggs,” Hump said.
“How did you think they reproduced?” Vamir asked.
Hump scratched his head. “I don’t know. I kind of just thought the dungeon manifested them.”
Vamir smiled thinly. “They do. But dungeons aren’t very creative. The reason the ancient dungeons are so dangerous is because the monsters within have had time to evolve. To pass down their traits to their offspring. Generation after generation they become stronger, until we have monstrosities like the Hell Pit, and the Eternal Dark.”
They were familiar names; two dungeons that had never been conquered. Legend said that Chosen had once delved into their depths and fought back against the darkness within. But that was long ago. Now the dungeons were constantly expanding, claiming towns and villages as the years went on. It took half a kingdom’s worth of resources just to hold them at the borders.
“I didn’t know that,” Hump said. He frowned. “I feel like I should have though.”
Vamir shrugged. “It’s not exactly common knowledge.”
“You’ve studied this?” Hump asked.
Vamir glanced at him. Hump remembered the flare of a veil he’d seen across the man’s face on the first day he’d met him. That aura of power. “Of a sort,” Vamir said.
Whatever that meant, Hump knew better than to pry. He nodded toward the eggs. “What do we do with them?”
Vamir frowned. “You think they’d go well on toast?”
Hump gawked on him. “You’re kidding.”
“Obviously,” Vamir said. “Burn them for all I care.”
“Hmm,” Hump said, looking at them. “Even I feel a little bad about destroying unhatched eggs.”
“Just think of them as chickens,” Vamir said. “Apart from these chickens are evil, man eating, murder monsters. We can’t leave them.”
“Bud won’t like it,” Hump said.
“He doesn’t have to like it.”
Hump felt himself gently shoved aside. “Hey watch it…” he trailed off.
A young girl stomped past and into the nest. She held a kobold club in her hand.
Without hesitation, she smashed it down into the closest egg. Then the next. She screamed as she brought the club down again and again in a frenzied fit of rage. Hump watched, frozen in place. The eggs splattered everywhere, covering the girl in yolk as red as blood and staining the rest of the nest. The other villagers came to watch. A few joined in. Hump could only stand there silently as they tore what remained of the kobold nest to pieces.
The girl stood amongst the mess breathing heavily, her black hair covered most of her face, but one hollow blue eye peered out from within. Tears ran down her face. Her clothes were little more than dirty rags, they draped off her like hand me downs from an elder sibling.
Looking at her, Hump understood. She may no longer be caged, but there was no escaping the trauma she’d suffered. The horror. She would never be able to unsee this. He startled as she let loose a final, frustrated scream, falling to her knees amongst the broken eggs. Her head drooped as she cried, only moving when another of the villagers managed to coax her from what remained of the nest.
Hump watched in silence, the sight of her made his heart break.
