Chapter CIV: The Wounded King

Clutching at the alabaster furs which protected him from the biting cold, North pressed forward through the bitter winds assailing Buburimu Peninsula. He kept his head held down, but it did little to shield his wounded face from the stinging pain in his cheek. When Bongo struck him with his bow, the heavy wooden weapon sliced directly across where Keftenk had cut his cheek open. A ugly, puffy scar now marred the Beastmaster's face, and every touch of the freezing cold further irritated it. It had grown black and puffy, and November feared he had an infection.

Guttler was like an anchor at his side. Strung from his belt, the ax constantly rumbled and growled to be given use. It sensed his weakness, trying to tug at his strings as it had done with Keftenk, and came away even more enraged when it found his will more indomitable. It alternated between being searing hot and ice cold, depending on its mood. More than once since they had started their journey, he had words with the relic weapon. The effect of his threats seemed to wear off faster and faster each time. At present it was mumbling about blood, and instead of trying to burn North, seemed content to weigh him down.

A few more miles, two days of travel at the most, and he would give Guttler all the blood it wanted. Its silver blade would drink deeply from the demons infesting Onzozo.

November trailed just behind North, her figure bundled up in a cloak and heavy furs. North looked back at her once, the cold wind bringing tears to his eyes, then turned forward again. He knew she hated feeling so helpless. It was her own power as a Summoner which prevented her from treating his wound or keeping them warm. While most of the nightmarish creatures infesting Buburimu had left, demons still patrolled the entire region. If she were to summon an Avatar it would be like sounding a gong to announce their presence. So she followed behind him, waiting patiently, despite the obvious pain it caused her to watch him struggle so.

His festering wound was the least of his concerns. Beneath his fur-lined leather jackcoat, he could feel the throbbing pain of the other mark Keftenk had given him. Across his entire chest, Guttler had ripped him open, and he had yet to fully heal. November had treated him as best she could, but it lingered as did the cut on his cheek. He did not tell her about the severity of the pain it gave him, but it felt like his skin was constantly tearing itself apart. Every time his coat rubbed against his skin a fresh wave of pain shot through him, and it was a struggle to keep moving. That he had managed to brush off as simply wanting to keep sure footing through icy ground.

The other side effect, unfortunately, had been more difficult to hide.

He felt it coming on again, bracing himself against what he knew was coming.

When it came, he first shuddered with his whole body. His chest constricted, the cut on it suddenly throbbing as if it might burst. The Elvaan raised a hand to his heart, clutching at his breast as his breath escaped from his throat in a dry wheeze. He managed to stagger forward a few more steps before sinking down. His knees struck the ground, and at his side Guttler felt heavier than ever.

"North!" He felt hands upon him as he gasped for air. The pain was blinding him, but he recognized November's voice. Every breath was like fire in his throat, and he choked, gagging as his fit worsened. Guttler was burning again, keeping him weighted down and trying to smolder through his clothes. Consciousness was starting to leave him. His lungs were burning. He could no longer draw breath. Distantly, the sound of November calling his name echoed as the air somehow became even colder than ever, and the sky had never been darker.

His chest rattled, thrusting up suddenly, and then the King of Onzozo went still.

He gasped as his eyes shot open, heart pounding like an earthquake in his chest. Involuntarily, his body shot up, sucking in air and reveling in its taste. For a drawn out moment he sat straight-backed and wide-eyed, trying to keep from hyperventilating. His ears twinged as the sound of rushing water filled them, and he turned rapidly to find its source. November was standing over him, wrapped in an ethereal blue aura

The ground at her feet was pulsing with magic, rising up and swirling all around her. Hands outstretched, she held a staff with a gleaming blue jewel attached to the end of it, a spark of the summoning magic she utilized still burning in its core. Around her, cerulean scales glistening as its serpentine body coiled tightly, the Avatar of Leviathan slowly faded from view, drops of his healing water still brushing lightly against North's skin. She lowered her hands, her blue-glowing eyes returning to their normal color as she looked down upon the Beastmaster.

"Thank Altana," she whispered fervently.

"No - " he sputtered, coughing violently before taking a long, gasping breath. "November," he managed, "do you realize what you've done? The demons - "

"North, you were going to die." Her voice was hard. "I will not stand by and watch that happen."

"This has happened before, I would have recovered! If you just gave me a minute - "

"North," she cut him off, "I started healing you half an hour ago."

He stopped, gaping at her momentarily. "That's impossible," he said bluntly.

"Look around," the Summoner swept her arm out, indicating their surroundings. His eyes darted quickly, assessing the situation. There were high rocks encircling them, and a narrow ledge leading down to a path below.

"This is not where we were."

She shook her head. "I had to move you. I've been trying everything I could to get you breathing normally. A few minutes ago you stopped entirely - I had no other recourse. I had to use magic."
Gingerly, North reached up and touched his face. The scar on his cheek was still there, and still throbbing. Beneath his coat, he could feel the mark on his chest burning as well. He had learned not to be surprised. Several times she had attempted to heal him, but Guttler's wounds stubbornly remained in place. Pain still wracked his body, but his breathing had returned to normal.

"This is south of where we had been," he noted. He could taste the salty tang of the Gugru Blue in the air, off to the east. They were closer to Mhaura than anywhere else.

"Yes."

"Why? Onzozo is the other way, November."

She glared at him. "North, you're dying." Her blunt tone caught him off-guard. "Guttler's curse is affecting you more and more every time it takes you. We have to get you to a healer."

"There is no time!" He cast his fist out angrily. "Every second we delay is one more moment the beasts of Onzozo suffer under the usurper who cast me out in the first place. He stole my kingdom from me, and I will reclaim it amidst a river of his blood."

"You will die," she told him, "and your kingdom will crumble."

"What would you have me do?" He raged. "I cannot sit by and let that demon scum occupy my throne!"

"We must heal you, North." Her voice was steadfast and determined. "We have to take you to the witch woman."

He scoffed at her. "That journey would take days we do not have!"

"And yet we will make it regardless, for I will not have you die and Onzozo fall into ruin!"

"November, you - "

He froze, the stinging wind slicing across his scar. A feeling like spiders crawling across his spine made him shudder, and a gasp escaped him. November started forward, worried that another fit was about to overtake him, but he threw a hand up in warning. A cloud of tingling darkness gathered at the base of his brain.

As a Beastmaster, North could feel the life energy of living creatures within a certain radius. Others of his ilk could sense monsters within a short distance, some perhaps up to a mile or two. Some of the more skilled ones could even tell you what type of beasts they were sensing, and lock on to one life sign to track it. The most experienced and seasoned Beastmasters would be able to command those monsters even from a distance, communicating their will across the ether.

North could sense every monster in the winding, twisting depths of the Labyrinth of Onzozo, and their movements, at the same time, and command them all at once. There was no way to sneak up on the him, as he could feel a presence and know exactly where it was headed and what its intentions were an hour before he ever laid eyes on its source. That was the reason every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run. A force of unbridled malice, directed squarely at him, was headed his way.

"We have to move." His tone brooked no questions. "They're coming."

"How much time do we have?" November asked. Both were already walking quickly, and soon it broke into a steady jog as she followed North's pace.

"Not enough," he grit his teeth together as the cold assailed them. Pulling his coat tightly over his face, he concealed his scar from the elements as best he could. He increased his pace as a feeling of dread swept over him. They were coming from above. Ten of them - no, eleven - closing in rapidly on them.

"Give us cover," he ordered. He looked back and caught the look on November's face. "They've already found us, no sense in trying to hide your magic now."

She nodded, skidding to a halt as she turned back, bringing out her staff. She plucked the blue jewel at its tip off, placing it in a pouch at her side just as she quickly snatched another gem from it. This one was a brilliant green, and sparks shot from it as she affixed it to the point of her stave. The dust at her feet began swirling as the wind suddenly gathered around her, a miniature twister of dirt and ice rising as an effluent emerald light burst up from the ground.

The winged form of Garuda, Avatar of the Wind, materialized in the air above the Summoner. She stood what must have been seven feet high, with feathered wings stretching out nearly twice that length. Her entire form, that of a thin, green-skinned woman with hands bearing talons like those of a bird of prey, was ethereal as the air itself. She was the manifestation of wind itself, harnessed by November's power.

Chanting in an arcane language, the Summoner swung her staff skyward. Garuda tilted her head in the direction the wind was blowing, and suddenly every breath of air was swirling towards her. The ice on the ground and the frozen sea spray began gathering rapidly in the air, swallowing them in an envelope of frigid mist. Within moments, all visibility around them was obscured, the thick cloud Garuda had gathered hiding them completely. November ended her chant, and the Avatar folded her wings over herself, dispersing into the wind from whence she came as the green aura around the Summoner faded.

"This won't keep them from finding us long," North warned. "Keep moving."

The Hume nodded, and they both began moving forward again. His eyes were useless in the dense mist, but his senses were more than enough to guide them. Crabs on a beach digging futiliely at the frozen sands for food told him where the beach was. Scavenging birds flying above told him what the ground ahead of him looked like. Worms crawling beneath the surface let him know where to run. Nature was North's guide, and as they ran through Garuda's cloud it never let him down.

"How are we doing?" November asked, panting slightly.

"They know we're in here," North grumbed, trying to search for another place to hide. "They're right above us."

He scoured the thoughts of the animals nearby. Not a one saw any cove nor cave nor outcropping anywhere near their position. Their concealment was limited to the extent of the summoned cloud, the length of which was rapidly running out.

"North," November called worriedly. The sound of snarling was reaching them.

He continued moving forward. The pale yellow glow of searching eyes was penetrating through the mist. It would be only moments now before they were upon them. His mind was desperately searching for some way out. Eleven points of darkness radiating nothing but murder were closing in around them. They were on the ground now, scouring the mist. Some remained in the air, watching any point of escape.

"North," November said again, more urgently this time.

His thoughts were racing. The scar on his chest was screaming in agony as the cold air seeped in through his clothes. It was hard to breathe, and for a moment he worried another fit was coming on. Guttler was burning at his side, sending a constant hiss into the air as it steamed. He reached down to grab its hilt and throttle it into silence. As soon as he touched it, fire shot up the length of his arm as Guttler's unrestrained bloodlust burned through him. He ground his teeth, and could feel the ax reacting in the same way.

"North!" November shouted this time as searching claws began swiping through the mist, inches from her head.

"Fine," North snarled. "We'll do it your way."

He turned, tearing Guttler free from his belt. With the other hand, he tore loose his kraken club, brandishing both as the flaming blue energy from his silver ax burned away the clouds around him. The feeling of malice filling the air focused solely on him as the demons became aware of his location. He returned it in spades.

A demon's hand burst out from the dissipating mist, and then smacked against the ground as Guttler separated it from its arm. A demon's howl rang out, cut off a second later as the kraken club crushed its throat. North spun quickly, claws catching the lining of his cloak. The Elvaan lashed out both weapons as he turned a full circle. Guttler sliced the demon's stomach open in a single motion, and in the next instant the kraken club tore into the cut, spilling its smoking entrails out onto the ground.

"Get the ones in the air," he told November as he rushed past her, both weapons singing in the wind.

The next two demons came at him at once, as a third rushed him from behind. The cloud obscuring them was all but gone now, and the rest were closing on him rapidly. Flames burst from the staves the demons held, shooting out towards the Beastmaster. North held out Guttler, and the ax greedily drank the fire as it called out for him to drink their blood.

It's blade sank into the chest of the first surprised demon as the second sprang back, hissing. The third was upon him already, this one bearing a curved blade. His kraken club arched back, catching the blade as he ripped Guttler free, along with most of the muscle and tissue in the first demon's chest. It fell convulsing as he spun to meet his attacker, crossing blades with him rapidly as the fiend howled at him. North grimaced, and with a single stroke he shattered the demon's blade, his other arm swinging around and crushing its face with a single powerful blow from his club. The weapon kept swinging, pulping its skull and as its horns broke, splintering across the ground along with its shattered fangs.

In the next moment, North was brought low as a shocking bolt of electricity struck him in the back. Every muscle in his body contracted, and the scent of his own flesh sizzling wafted into his nostrils. It lanced through him, boiling his blood as it burned his skin. He fell to one knee, bracing himself against the ground with his club as he turned his head to find the demon he left alive preparing another surge of foul magic. Above him, the remaining six demons still in the air circled overhead, preparing to swoop in and finish the job.

He fought to regain his footing, but his body was still trembling from the lightning spell. The demon was already preparing to unleash another strike, yellow eyes balefully staring its target down. North's eyes widened as it let another bolt fly, aimed straight for his heart.

The wind swept past him as the bolt caught the palm of the enormous being now standing next to him. North craned his head up to find the hulking form of Titan rushing by, the earth quaking at his heel.

Screeching, the demon wizard took flight as Titan bore down upon it, but it was too late to escape the Earth Avatar's might. With one enormous hand, the elemental, his body a pale mismatch of Buburimu's white sand and the ice frozen within it, snatched the demon out of the air before it could get away. With a single contemptuous squeeze, the fiend's head burst open as dark blood gushed out. It tossed the carcass skyward, towards the gathered demons flying overhead. They flitted out of the way as it flew by them, spiraling through the air until it was out of sight.

November's arm slipped under North's as she helped him up. Once back on his feet he slipped away from her grasp, balancing and standing straight. Gathering himself with a steadying breath, he looked up at the demons circling above them, casting Guttler towards them threateningly.

"Fly away, peasants. You are not prepared to deal with a king."

To his surprise, they huddled in close, and the growling, guttural language of the demons reached his ears. November stood by him, glancing up in uncertainty as Titan loomed behind her. Her staff now bore a clear, golden-colored jewel which flared brightly in the Avatar's presence. After several moments of conversation, their wings folded in and the small group of demons dropped rapidly to the ground.

Five of the demons bore no distinction from one another besides their armament. Two were unarmed, but their teeth and claws were threatening enough. Two others bore ebony-bladed great axes, the weapons gripped tightly in their long, powerful fingers. Another held a staff, and North detected a tinge of worry in the wizard's eyes as it glanced at the form of Titan behind them.

The sixth, however, wore a crimson cape of some fabric which looked like blood. Its hands were covered with thick metallic gauntlets, and a golden necklace dangled from its neck. Demons were already tall, most of them standing six feet at least, but this one was closer to seven, with horns which looped once like a large ram. He took several steps forward, prompting North to raise Guttler in warning. The demon stopped, and what passed for a smile crossed its lips.

"Good day, your Majesty," it hissed at him, making a shallow bow. The sound of its voice was like a thousand icicles rapidly breaking.

North's eyes narrowed. "Get away from this place while you can. My ax still thirsts for blood and I am of a mind to oblige it." Guttler roared hungrily, affirming his words.

"You must be the displaced King of Onzozo. The master has been awaiting your return." Its pale yellow eyes were firmly affixed on him. "I am Baronet Romwe, noble Kindred of Zvahl." A sneer of sorts crossed its face. "With the arrival of the Royal Family my position has been relegated to this pathetic backwater. Fortunately, your arrival will help me get back into the palace where I belong."

"Do not presume to speak so freely to me," North warned. "Your low position hardly affords you that right."

The ugly smile on Romwe's lips melted away. "You are nothing but a foul primate," it spat at him. "A king of your land is as good as a worm in ours."

"And you are nothing but an errand boy," North responded. "Leave now and you'll live to tell your master that I'm coming for him, next."

The demon aristocrat chuckled. It was a grating noise. "You have no idea how far beneath us you are."

"November," North commanded, "show the Baronet which of us is beneath the other."

The Summoner nodded, and a golden glow swept over her as Titan suddenly sank into the ground.

Romwe hissed, throwing himself into the air with one thrust of his powerful wings. An instant later Titan re-emerged with a rage-filled roar, bursting up from beneath the gathered demons and tossing them from their feet. They howled angrily, rushing in to attack the Avatar. November chanted rapidly, and in response Titan drew back its fist and let loose a punch which could shatter a mountain. The demon it struck, one of the ones bearing a great axe, burst apart on impact. Wet chunks of its shattered body rained down on the others, leaving an acrid smoke as it hit the ground and blood spilled out.

Then, to North's surprise, Romwe swept back down. He snatched the fallen demon's axe from the ground, and in his hands it erupted in foul, black flames. The Kindred folded his wings and sped forward, spinning the great axe rapidly as it flew directly towards Titan. The Avatar growled, rearing back its fist once gain, thrusting forward to crush the demon in mid-flight.

November gasped as Titan's arm fell from its body. The Baronet erupted from its back, a gaping hole where the left side of its chest used to be testament to his attack. Titan's massive form staggered around, trying to swipe at the demon with its other arm, but Romwe easily avoided the strike, leaping underneath it as he brought his burning axe up once again. The terrible sound of rock grinding against metal made North's stomach clench as Romwe swung his weapon. Titan stood mutely, arm still outstretched, beady glowing eyes staring forward.

Then, the top half of its body slid away from the lower, and both parts crumbled back into the sand from where they had come.

Behind him, November staggered as if she had been struck, a sheen of sweat lining her face. The aura around her flickered and died as Romwe smirked, showing his fangs.

"Now then," he said, "I believe - "

"Guttler," North swung the black ax up as he began running forward, "Onslaught!"

The weapon was only too happy to comply. At North's word, the same howling tunnel of flame and burning energy Keftenk had been unable to harness struck out true, consuming the entire group of demons in the same torrent. The two unarmed demons were swept up instantly, the dark flesh melting from their bones as they were caught in Guttler's path. The wizard threw up a shield, chanting furiously as North pushed forward. It screamed as the staff it was holding started to melt, and began to flail in panic. The mistake cost it its hands, extended past the reach of its shield, and then scorched completely off the wrists they were attached to. Only Romwe and the other axe-wielding demon avoided it, managing to soar quickly above the path of Guttler's blast as it consumed their comrades.

Romwe scowled darkly, flaring out his blood-red cloak and leveling his gaze at North. With an indignant huff, the demon swung his own burning axe around, and made a nose dive directly for the Beastmaster.

North roared, bringing both his weapons forward, catching Romwe's axe under its blade and across the shaft. Black flames licked his body, chilling his skin where they touched. Guttler snarled like a beast, spouting off fire, but weakened by its recent release of Onslaught. Romwe towered over North, pressing down, seeking to grind him into the dirt.

"If you ever returned," the Baronet hissed, "the Marquis Andras ordered your body be brought to him, so to string up in the halls of his new lair."

"The demon aristocracy have vision beyond their means," North rebuked, and with a powerful thrust of his arms he tore away from Romwe's axe. The demon jumped back, brandishing it's burning weapon as North did the same.

The Baronet eyed him carefully, both of them circling slowly. "You are a powerful one," he commented, "perhaps beyond my means so long as you hold that ax. The Marquis, however . . . he will flay the skin from your bones."

"Then let him come," North said darkly. "And we will settle this ourselves."

Romwe lowered his brow, lip curled in irritation. "Think of this not as mercy," he told him, flaring out his wings. "I leave now only so that I may return with more might with which to crush you."

"Bring as much from Onzozo as you want," North replied. "The more I slaughter here the less I will have to deal with later."

The demon scowled, and then shouted something in their terrifying language to the one surviving member of his party. Both demons slowly took to the air, and then began flying back towards the Labyrinth of Onzozo, Romwe's axe trailing black fire as they went.

"North, we have to get out of here," November rushed to his side as they flew away. "When they return, we will - " She stopped, pulling her hand slowly away from the Beastmaster's trembling arm. "North?" She asked, her voice small. "North?"

The Beastmaster gave a single heave, throwing his body forward as he violently hacked. A moment later he was choking again, pain arcing through every inch of his body. The two scars Guttler had left him were throbbing so much he felt they might burst open. His spine convulsed, and he felt the back of his head strike the ground as he struggled to breathe in.

November desperately calling his name was the last thing he heard before his world went black.