Chapter 4 Nismera
NISMERA
Fire crackled, and flames clogged the air.
The buildings bent from the heat, breaking and tumbling into themselves.
Trees snapped, the water inside them boiling and steaming.
Screams rent the air, and Death coasted in on currents of billowing smoke.
Ah, there he was, the exact being I was looking for.
Hooded, ghostly shadows moved across the battlefield, Death’s minions collecting the lifeless body parts I’d left in my wake.
They twisted and lifted, escorting souls far past these realms to whatever resting place their souls demanded.
More wraiths clawed and crawled from the shadows.
They darkened the darkness as they floated across the massacred town, picking up and leaving.
“How do you know he will even show?” Henri asked.
Arms folded, I turned slightly, trying to hide my annoyance.
After Vincent had betrayed me, I’d reinstated Henri to his former position as my second.
Black and gold armor added bulk to his already massive frame, but I could see his broad shoulders tense beneath my obvious displeasure.
Although not terrible to look at, with a head of short, russet curls, striking gold eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass, he was a complete and utter idiot off the battlefield.
His only redeeming talents were those relating to war.
“An infrequency,” I said. “Think of it like a current. Too much in a system too quickly, and he shows to make sure it’s not overwhelmed.
It just takes a few thousand all at once,” I explained, flicking the blood from the nails of my gauntlet.
I grimaced at the gore clinging to my armor.
“There are too many corpses, and his specters cannot carry them all. He’ll have to come himself. ”
It was the exact reason I’d chosen the town of Grivmohr. It housed more than fifteen thousand people … or it had. Now, it was nothing more than a smoking, bloody wasteland. After the flames ate the buildings and flesh, the fire would turn toward the land and lay it bare.
Henri’s gaze searched the darkness, his armor sliding against itself in a soft susurration. “I can’t see them.”
Of course, he couldn’t, even with his strength and power in battle. He, like everyone else, was beneath me.
“How will you know he’s here?”
I once more smothered my annoyance with him and said, “You will be able to feel him even if you can’t see him. There will be a cold wrench of air. He is made from the darkest parts of the universe. He is here but not here, there but not there.”
Henri shivered. Even with his rank, he was still Itian, and that race was barely above mortals.
Sure, they had greater strength and were more durable, but the only true difference was their slightly raised ear tips and elongated life.
“I’ve heard stories from half-dead warriors who have seen a demon appear on blood-drenched battlefields.
Not to fight but to take. They say some souls smiled in bliss as they left.
Others screamed and tried to claw their eyes from their heads after one look at the beast.” Henri paused and turned to look at me, his eyes haunted.
“Will you wish to go blind when you see him?”
My smile was slow. “There are far worse things within and past our stars than Death.”
His dirty, blood-smeared throat bobbed, but he said nothing.
I placed my hand on his breastplate. “Keep your eyes closed until I tell you otherwise.”
Henri nodded and closed his eyes, his back straight and his hands clasped before himself.
The stench of death grew as more succumbed to their wounds.
The town of Grivmohr grew silent, the wind stilling and the smoke no longer curling in the air.
Cold swept across the ground, frigid and bitter.
Leaves and rocks froze, turning an icy blue.
It was a sickening cold, brutal as the edge of time.
When Henri’s breaths slowed and clouded before him, I knew who had arrived.
The caress of cold smoke followed a flutter of wings.
“Took you long enough,” I said. “I would have thought you would have shown after the first few hundred.”
“Your value for life is despicable,” Death said. “They had dreams and hopes, and you steal them carelessly. Your very being disrupts order.”
I turned slowly, plastering a smile on my face. A bird made of midnight perched high atop a burning, steepled roof. His eyes were opaque and as cold as the air around him. “But how else would I get your attention?”
Firelight glinted across his darkened feathers. He spoke, yet his beak did not move.
“Why summon me?”
Fine. Straight to it, then. It was probably for the best.
“Why did you break your most sacred law? You brought Samkiel back from the dead.” I clicked my teeth. “Now that’s despicable.”
The raven tilted his head slightly. “Did I?”
My brows furrowed. Death was many things, but not a liar.
My jaw clenched as I stared at him. I thought back to that day, recalling how Ayla had rushed to Samkiel’s side, her dark hair flowing behind her.
Then the fate had intervened and they had all disappeared.
“Impossible.” I sneered. “Ayla? She has no power over death. None do but you. I am no fool.”
“No, but your arrogance will be your downfall,” Death said.
“There is no downfall for me. You and I both know it. Nor is there any way that Ayla,” her name was like acid on my tongue, “rose someone from the dead. Unless … do I bother you so much that you’d break such an absolute rule?
” My hands flexed at my sides, but I barked a laugh so rich the feathers on Death’s wings fluttered.
“That’s what this is, isn’t it? You know you cannot have me, and you and that stupid fate are desperate.
” My smile was as cold as the winds that followed him.
“To have such powerful, ancient beings shuffling and cheating to turn against me honestly touches my heart.”
“You have no heart.”
Fire raged, and smoke danced between us, yet they never obscured his eyes.
I summoned my blood-soaked spear from its ether and pointed it at him as I spoke.
“You are a fool. Samkiel will fall once more, and the bitch he beds along with him. When I have conquered these realms and the next, I will find a way to end even you.”
The roof he perched on flamed around him, broken beams crackling and snapping, but Death did not falter or even blink at my threat.
“Hubris is such a common trait within your kind,” Death said, his opaque eyes glaring at me. “And you forget that Dianna was not the only powerful being that crossed this threshold when Samkiel fell. You will be overpowered, outnumbered, and you will lose.”
My lip curled in pure, unbridled rage. I raised my spear, energy crackling at the tip as I shot it toward him.
Death’s form burst into neverending darkness with a howl, my power having no effect whatsoever.
A thick, dark mist swept every soul remaining in Grivmohr and vanished.
In Death’s wake, crackling flames consumed the bloodsoaked town as if they were ravenous beasts.
My anger grew. I knew who he spoke of and what that bitch took. I spun toward Henri, my hand slamming down on his pauldron, my nails digging into the metal with a crack. His eyes opened, and he came to attention.
“Ready my legions, summon the armada, and find me that godsdamn witch.”