Enura - Chapter 77: Checkmate

Before he saw the shadow upon him, something plucked Lawson from the ground. He looked up and gasped, dangling from the vampire’s outstretched hand. Talmot in turn wavered in Essinger’s grasp, who held fast to one of the whipping tendrils. “We shall ferry you to the blossom, where you can unleash your wrath,” said the Muslim.

Scores of dismembered bodies flashed by. Lawson’s stomach plummeted as Essinger released the vine, and latched onto another racing by.

“How many arrows remain in your arsenal?” Talmot asked.

“Just one.”

“Then we shall pass her over to maximize our contempt. Impervious she is to swords and arrows, but perhaps you can be more persuasive.”

As they glided through the air, the hellflower turned and scorched them with its fiery breath. The vine snapped, dumping the trio into a pile of mangled corpses.

“Never have I seen so many vampires felled at once, even by my own hands.” Lawson tossed severed heads and limbs aside. “Yet I am struck by a sadness that I have not felt since the hunt began.” He fled the blast.

A spiderroot scattered over the carnage, cutting off his advance. Talmot and Essinger leapt forward, unsheathing their swords, and chopping it to bits.

“She cowers inside.” Talmot flipped it over, and ripped out its heart.

“How certain are you?” Lawson asked.

“As certain as I can be.” The vampire took a bite, and spit it out. “Besides, where else would she be hiding?” Talmot pushed him aside as a crypt rein speared down. “We must keep moving if we hope to defeat her.”

“No, this is our best opportunity.” Essinger pulled counsel closer when the scythe failed to extract itself. The crusader grabbed a bony column and nodded.

Talmot sliced the line, sending the two skywards. “My prayers go with you, brothers.”

The world flashed by like a dream, the stage illuminating, no shadow too deep. Lawson spotted her watchful eyes in the flower below, colorless hollows that would not be soon forgotten. Unsure how much of himself reflected back at that moment, he hesitated to commit his final arrow.

“Slay her now, Lawson. For Vissorouy,” Essinger urged.

“For Vissorouy.” Lawson nodded, and pulled the trigger.

The creature recoiled into the bud as it snapped shut; but the hunter’s uncanny delivery allowed the silver arrow to sneak through. It slipped inside and detonated, blasting petals from the stem, and forcing its master onto the crimson stage. Her refuge in shambles, the translucent ovule rose, towering over the vampire legions. She was tall and slender, tresses of transparent flesh draped over her like a dress. The ovule stepped forward, and reclaimed her arm from the tainted soil before her. She pressed it against her shoulder, strumming her lithe fingers until it was firmly reattached.

Though her attention diverted, she was no less deadly. Her cruel stinger impaled vampires as they pounced. The barbed tail rose over her willowy frame, making her appear even taller.

She knocked Talmot aside as he buried his blade into her neck. “Are you still in need of the lesson?” She yanked the blade from her throat, and tossed it into the fire. “Impervious I am to earthly designs. Come closer, I beg you.”

Lawson rose from the carnage, watching the last of the bony tendrils sag before him. “From pile to pile I wander, no end in sight.”

“A merry time indeed.” Essinger grinned.

The hunter tossed his bow aside in disgust. If only he had been spared another hour, he could have forged the killing blow. Still he felt a burden lift from the land, noting the spiderwood wilting around him. “Her magic has faltered.” He rushed forward. “Culverins!” he shouted.

But Lord Vangley had already arrived at the same conclusion. His legions hauled the cannons into range, and uncorked the barrels. “I collected your stones for you, Enura. Now choke them down.” He signaled.

The culverins fired as one, blasting the wicked one asunder. The army took cover as the green stones obliterated what was left of the old manor and the forest around them. Fragments flickered and went out, surrendering their magical potential.

The ovule’s head rolled to the elder’s feet. “Checkmate.” Lord Vangley stabbed down with his canesword. Her pale face bubbled over, steaming in the moonlight, and dissipating in a cloud of vapor.

“We have won the night!” Talmot embraced Essinger with his one good hand.

The patriarch raised his sword. “Victory,” he said softly. Vampires cheered and mobbed the visionary.

“Well done, my lord.” Olivia bowed slightly.

But the hunter lingered on the battlefield. “What have we truly accomplished?” He scratched his chin.

Enura - Chapter 75: Dollhouse

The army of Vissorouy swarmed the manor.

“The last time I laid eyes on her, she was a bevy of crumbling pillars. Now look at her—dark wood glossed over with an ivory sheen; the same die masked over.” Lord Vangley gazed at the white towers before him. “A dollhouse she is, the restoration nearly complete.”

Laurent climbed down from a tree, and rejoined the group. “She is inside, father.”

Firelight flickered in the windows, and then steadied.

“What do you think, counsel?” Vangley asked.

“The forest is too quiet. In truth, I am not sure what to make of it.” Lawson scanned over the trees. “I cannot believe the woods are free of her cruel spells.”

“Which is why we must force her hand, and end her swiftly.” The elder stabbed his cane in the ground.

“Tread carefully, my lord, or we will stumble into another trap,” the hunter cautioned.

“The longer we wait, the more insurmountable the task.”

“Remember Red Wind. Had Carmella held her ground, and slowly bombarded the fortress, the enemy would have yielded,” said Lawson.

“Circumstances dictate otherwise.” Vangley brushed aside the comment.

“Even so, why take the risk? Shell her from a distance until she reveals herself. Then behead the snake.”

“Had I listened to you, we would still be gazing at the forest, too frightened to venture inside. Are you waiting for courage or cobwebs, Lawson? There is no better time than now. Catapults await my decree. We will throw everything we have at her, and scatter her ashes before dawn approaches.”

Lawson shook his head. “My lord, we still do not know what happened to the scythes.”

The partriarch froze, the keen edge of truth finally pricking him. He scratched the stubble on his chin, and took a deep breath. “You are right, Lawson. More often than I care to admit. Moments like these are the reason why I brought you to Vissorouy. Even after five hundred short years, an old man can still learn to heed a voice other than his own.” The elder smiled. “I shall honor your request.”

“Father?”

“What is it, Laurent?”

The young vampire hesitated. “Something approaches from the south. I sensed it as we entered the forest. It is in the trees above, here with us now. It may be a trick to expose our flank.”

“Thank you, my son.” He patted him on the shoulder, and brushed his dark locks aside. “You have been patient and honorable, everything I had hoped for. Tell the lines to draw back, and stay vigilant.”

“My lord, there is a complication.” Lawson raised his eyes to the manor.

Talmot lowered himself from a branch, touching down gently on the rooftop.

Lord Vangley clenched his jaw. “Get him down from there.”

Laurent whistled, but the Mujihadeen heard none of it. Quietly he crept over the shingles, spying rose and lavender hues through cracks in the unfinished roof. As he crossed over, a pair of familiar hands pulled him aside.

The roof exploded, balls of fire shooting out and scorching the treetops. The manor splintered in half, a giant flower rising from it.

“Looking for the easy way out, are you, Muslim?” Essinger grinned.

Enura - Chapter 74: Mire

Lawson considered the parable of the black pope. “Pope Ruminus evolved into his immortal skin, his empire unchallenged ever since. We must not afford Enura the same opportunity.” The hunter gazed at the manor in the distance, its sharp edges accented by the dim cast of the moon. Mist spread over the land, and rolled towards them. “Prepare your defenses, my lord. Something is headed our way.”

“Ready the culverins,” Lord Vangley shouted.

“Culverins!” his men shouted in the distance.

Legions of vampires set down the cannons in the dank glade, priming barrels and raising them skywards. They abandoned the half-sunken catapult in the marsh, setting up the remaining Trechubets well short of the manor.

A green glow emanated from beneath the water, catching Talmot’s eye. As fog whisked past his ankles, he leaned forward, stabbing the water with his sword. Entranced by the glimmer of the gemstones below, he edged closer. “Fortunes long forgotten smile upon thee.” He eased his grip on the sword.

Crafted from the refuse of the bog, a giant creature rose from the depths, towering over the Mujahideen. With hands of mud and rock, it struck the vampire, knocking him backwards. Quick as a cat, Talmot sprung to his feet, and sliced off its arm, only to be pummeled by the other. As he scraped himself from the ground, more creatures rose from the mire.

“Lawson?” Talmot screamed.

The hunter shook his head. “Bog beasts,” he grumbled.

Dozens emerged from the swamp, and limped towards the front lines. Cannons exploded, blowing holes in the quag weaves as they inched closer. But they did not recoil, their wounds closing shut with the aid of the swamp as they continued their march.

“Brute force will not impede them,” Lawson warned.

“Then how do you propose we kill them?” Vangley asked.

Lawson hesitated. “We cannot. They draw their strength from the bog, incantations from forbidden crafts long forgotten. If the fires could not extract the moisture from the swamp and keep the torrent at bay, nothing will. We must either destroy those who hold dominion over them or withdraw.”

Soliders pounced on the first wave, blasting them with hand culverins, and hacking off chunks with swords and axes. As they fell, bog beasts transformed into a muddy gush, and jumped down the vampires’ throats. Shadowlings fell to the ground, regurgitating the swamp until their lungs faltered and could no longer breathe.

“Never.” The patriarch stood defiantly. “I did not endure all this just to be defeated by a gang of mud pies. Laurent, take my men and scout the manor ahead. Destroy Enura if she crosses your path.”

“But father-” said Laurent.

“I will watch over Lawson personally,” said the elder. “Sons of Vissorouy yield to no one. Remember that, fledgling.”

“My lord!” Lawson pulled him aside. Three shapes burst from the ground, and attacked the guard.

“Father!” Laurent cried.

“Go, now!” Vangley unsheathed his canesword, and jumped into the fray. He decapitated one of the mudmen, stomping its head with his boots. One of its eyes fell free, rolling into a cluster of weeds. The creature’s head morphed into a hand, and pawed at the gemstone.

Lawson snatched it up before the demon could reach it, covering it tight in his gloved hand. “Of course, the eyes. The instrument to which the spell is bound. Pluck out the eyes, and you will bring them to their knees.”

As the creature grabbed hold of the patriarch, Talmot jumped forward, and sheered off the remaining eye. Instantly mud and refuse fell back to the earth, an inanimate pile no more deadly than dry leaves.

The elder brushed the mud from his coat. “Put out their eyes, and bring them to me!” Vangley hissed.

The guard cut down the two remaining beasts, ripping out their eyes, and adding them to Lawson’s burgeoning pouch. The hunter tied it shut, and approached one of the culverins as Vangley’s personal guard stymied the approach.

“Do not fire another round,” Lawson instructed the gunner. “Raise the barrel, and put these inside.” He handed him the pouch.

“Do as he says,” said the elder.

“Would it not be more practical to fire these into the swamp?” The gunner considered the pouch.

“No, I want you to store them. Cap off the barrel; do not let them escape. Without the swamp, they have nothing to craft their form.”

“What shall I use to cap it off, sir?” he asked.

“This.” Lawson scooped up an iron ball from the ground.

“Very well.” The soldiers raised the barrel, and slipped the stones inside.

Though hundreds remained, the army of Vissorouy plucked out each one until the last beast crumbled, stuffing full their cannons, and sealing them shut with the remaining shells.

“Once again you came through for me while others falter.” Vangley watched the fog dissipate. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Thank me once we have captured Enura,” said Lawson.

“I believe you are mistaken, counsel. Vissorouy is not taking prisoners this eve.” He wiped his blade, and continued to the manor.

Enura - Chapter 71: Chime

The Muslim raced through the inferno, slamming down his stone hammer, and smashing the crystallines in his path. The gemstones spit out red plumes as they splintered, the crusader relentless and unyielding.

“What is that fool doing?” Lord Vangley watched from afar as his field general’s coat caught fire. “Death has a special place for fools and heroes alike.”

Crystallines emerged from the fire, tightening its circle around Talmot, and cutting off his escape.

“One falls, many rise. Compounding the problem you are, nightwalker,” a voice whispered in his ear. “Is this all but a game to you? Then let me show you how it is done,” she sneered.

Undaunted that there would be no retreat, the vampire clenched his teeth and charged forward. He pounded the hammer, again and again, cracking the stone head on the crimson stones. Red vapor steamed off the stone mallet as Talmot paused to catch his breath. Indeed the crystallines had multiplied, hundreds of greedy mouths vying for his pale flesh.

“You shall not pass,” they said as one.

“And I shall not yield.” The hammer arced down, smashing the swarm to bits as it pounced. The head exploded in a cloud of white dust, stony fragments pinging off the dwindling trees around him. Talmot tossed the wooden handle aside, and unsheathed a dagger from his coat.

Fiery gems snapped together, forming a sinuous spine, and attaching to a thumping heart encased in crystal. Layers piled onto the burgeoning frame, filling out its angelic form. “Now you are mine.” Wings rose from her back.

“First you shall taste my blade,” said Talmot.

“Your tools do not faze me,” she scoffed.

“Then clearly you have nothing to fear.”

The angelic crystalline pounced, snapping at the crusader’s head. He stepped aside, pricking her chest with his blade before implying some distance between them. The dagger hummed, sharing its dark song with the crumbling angel.

“And to dust you shall return,” said the Muslim.

The crystalline covered her ears as the hymn sharpened. “What is this tragedy flailing my ears?” Dust and shards fell from her.

“A moon chime.” Talmot leapt forward and thrust it in. “One of the blades of resonance.” He carved out her heart, and snatched it from her.

The vampire cracked the crystal shell, taking her heart in his hands, and burying his fangs in the soft, warm flesh. Black hues dripped off his chin as he assuaged his thirst, and tossed the mangled pulp aside. The angel shattered, the red cast fading from her countless crystals. Her remnants burrowed deep into the soil, driven away by the excruciating hum.

Talmot took the dagger in his hands, and pondered. “‘Gifts from old friends continue to bear fruit.” He took a few steps, and returned the blade to its sheath. “Clear!” he called.

Enura - Chapter 69: Mistress

Yakim sprinted through the forest, curious where the moon was hiding, following the scent of burning pine. Even with snow on the ground, the black forest offered few hints about where its trails led. Though her vision excellent, especially at night, the vampire knew she could not sustain such a pace, lest lose an eye. Perhaps it was for the better; she had seen things, done things that she dared not admit. If only she had spared her eyes from the barbaric acts witnessed during her tender years.

Though late in the eve, Yakim wished she had not braved the waters of Black Lake, nor set foot in the smoldering village. She did not feel the better of it, the last of her youthful air stripped away. Memory of the infant stained her soul; a cruel trick played expertly on her. She longed to feel the child’s embrace one last time before laying it down to rest.

As her heart bled, something sprung from the trees, latching onto her back. His fangs were small, pathetic. Yakim tossed him off with ease. The child rolled to his feet, and lingered in the nearby shadows, gazing at her with devilish intent.

“Why do you torment me?” Yakim wiped blood from her neck. The wound closed on its own accord, leaving behind a slight trickle. “Do that again, and you will force me to use my own.” She bared her fangs.

The miscreant cackled, and lunged for her throat. A bony hand plucked the child from the air, holding him up by a handful of hair.

“Leave the young lady alone. Can you not see she is one of us?” An elder woman stepped into the moonlight, and tossed him aside. “The moon plays tricks on us all, especially near Black Lake. Now stop harassing this poor soul, or we will make stew from your sorry hide.” She smacked the boy across the face. “I am Estrid, mistress of these woods. And this miscreant is my grandson, Edward.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Yakim nodded.

“Few ever say such a thing,” she grinned. “What is your name, dear?”

“Yakim.”

“A strange name for such a delicious morsel. I see that you have an interesting choice in dress as well. So tell me, Yakim, what were you running from?”

“In truth, I am not sure,” the halfling replied. “The village of Merrymore has been decimated, women and children alike.” She broke into tears.

“There, there, dear. You do not need to spill your heart now.” The old hag put a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me, how did you happen upon our quaint village?”

“I was abducted.” Yakim wiped away the tears. “But I was able to evade my captor when he relieved himself in the snow. Eventually he caught up, and-”

“And?”

“You would not believe me if I told you.”

“Entertain me, nonetheless. We get so few visitors, it is refreshing to hear a new voice. Come.” Estrid put her arm around her. “And do not worry about that little wretch.” She removed the boy’s scowl with a sharp pinch to the cheek. “His bite is no worse than a mosquito’s.”

“Thank you, mistress. Your kindness exceeds my grasp.” Yakim managed a smile.

“Alone we all are, if not humble.” She led her inside.

Enchanted Underpants

A craggy old man walked to the center of town and inquired, "Does anyone have a pair of underpants I can borrow?"

The peasants looked at each other. Surely they'd never heard a request so strange. Even the town elder thought it odd.

"What's wrong with ones you had?" said a peasant from his window.

"It was made of wolf's skin and it came alive and bit me."

The peasant cracked open the door and handed him a bag. "Here, take this. It's made of sheep skin."

The old man thanked him and went on his way.

The next day the old man came back and asked, "Is there anyone who has pair of underpants I can borrow, preferably not of sheep skin?"

"What's wrong with sheep skin?" said the peasant from the day before.

"As soon as I put them on, the undergarments made of wolf's skin returned to the castle and chased the sheep skin off my hind end."

"Here," a woman held out a bag from her window. "While it may look brash, I threaded it from the feathers of an golden owl."

He thanked her and hurried along.

The townspeople placed bets on whether or not he would return a third time, and when he did they were little surprised.

"What's wrong now?" The woman shouted from her window.

"As soon as I put them on it flapped its feathers and flew after the wolf and sheep," he sobbed. "Is there not anyone who can help me?"

Finally the town elder recognized him. "Here Jack, take mine. They're made out of piranha skin. That way if you start eating those magic beans again, your undergarments will come alive and bite off your rear end."

Jack put them on and was instantly cured and never bothered that poor little town again.

THE END