This short story was written to outdo
darkvoidof40k's
own short work of fiction, however it has grown far more than I wished, and strayed from the original plot. I decided I might as well post it here, to see what people think of it. I currently need a title, and am thinking of possibly expanding it into a proper novel rather than keeping it a (rather large) short story. Any comments, suggestions etc. would be great!
Kun stalked forwards, his leather boots not making a sound as he closed on his prey. He tossed his blade into the air, little more than a large iron rod sharpened into a cutting edge, both testing the wind and getting a better grip on the weapon. The wind felt like a river of ice running through his body, and his cloak, shortened to avoid it dragging on the leaf-strewn ground, was tight against one side of his body from it, revealing the harsh shapes of his armour beneath. It was uncommon in the extreme to wear such a thing, but the prey he was currently hunting had a tendency to fight back.
He glanced behind, trusting most but not all of this hunting party. Right behind him, as always, was Torsot, his friend and ally from many a battle, the 2nd in command among his men. Then there was Vek and, more importantly, Vek’s sister Scal, the more exotic of Kun’s wives. Vek was a good ambusher; always able to blend in with the surroundings, and the only reason Kun could see him in this forest was years of practice.
Scal, however, was the reason he had needed to look back. For a woman to be out hunting was incredibly rare, though Scal was always with them when they went out because of her… abilities with fire. Kun looked ahead and focussed on walking, trying to clear his mind. Just another hundred yards or so…
A branch snapped. Kun stopped instantly and spun his head towards the sound senses that were tuned to the darkness easily picking out a fox ten yards away. The group was well practice at dealing with such distractions. He moved on.
They neared the prey. A few yards away was a tent, inside it their “leader” and his power-hungry friends. The dwelling was large and swollen like many of the inhabitants, and also like them ready to be chopped down. Nearby, a series of smaller, more permanent dwellings littered the area, one of the tribes this “great leader” had stolen control of. He’d killed Kun’s father for one of those tribes, and now he’d pay.
The 4 assassins huddled closer. Kun glanced at Torsot, his eyes perfectly outlining the question, “Is there any reason you can see for the plan to fail?” to which a slight head movement replied a “no.” Kun signalled for his wife to get started, and then crouched near the entrance of the tent.
Scal started muttering a low chant, one that seemed more powerful than the Gods themselves, but unholy, a power of evil that could only ever be used as such. Each syllable was barely audible yet powerful enough to make Kun shake, the syllables stringed together to form first words that pleasantly warmed the air around them, but then phrases that made smoke start rolling and billowing from the tent, then inevitably entire spells that caused outright flames to start gnawing at the tent, devouring the fabric, cannibalising at least one of the people inside.
4 former inhabitants poured from the tent, wheezing and spluttering, some of whom had reached for weapons before they left but all of whom were easily butchered by the 4 assassins waiting for them. Their ringleader, though, seemed to think differently about the whole matter, as they had known he would.
“My dear Kun, boy, I thought you had learned your lesson after the incident with your father!” Kun span, not caring in the slightest about any stealth now. Eth, the man that had killed his father, was slowly materialising behind the 4 of them, using the same unholy power as Scal had used, and yet not needing any words to control it. “Power like mine is not something you can simply rebel against.”
“Eth. If your plan is to bore us to death, I must congratulate you on that lecture,” Torsot replied for him, always better than Kun with words. “You educated him, and the rest of us as well, but not in the way you may have intended.”
“Yeah!” Kun cut in, moving into a fighting stance. “We know of your powers, how you use them. And,” he grinned, “how to counter them.”
At this, Eth simply widened his mouth into something more like a leering grimace than a display of happiness, a pair of almost ethereal knives sliding from his sleeves to his hands before he lunged with both of them. Kun had expected this attack, though, and dodged the one thrown to his left while stabbing at Eth’s hand to his right, forcing him to pull back the other knife even as he started stabbing with it.
Kun attacked Eth with a kick to the groin, but although his strike was perfectly placed and his opponent was too slow to dodge, Eth simply wasn’t there when he should have made contact. Instead, his opponent was now behind him, the previously unseen Vek’s quick reflexes stopping the knife from reaching Kun.
Then those two were duelling while he regained his balance, Torsot watching their backs, waiting for Eth to use magic again, and Scal created a wall of flames to discourage those in the village from interfering.
Eth was quite obviously a worse fighter than the other 3 men there, but whenever he was about to take a hit he simply moved to another position, generally behind one of them, and started over again. Soon, though...
Eth dodged one of Eth's stabs, ducking down then shifting his weight forwards and cutting at his opponent's legs, only to find that he had gone again, Torsot's well-placed slice drawing Eth's attention away from the rolling Vek. Torsot stabbed, a precise blow towards Eth's heart, but it was too slow and Eth parried with his dagger hilt before shifting his weight forwards and turning it fluidly into a riposte, a well-practiced move from a naturally untalented fighter.
Torsot turned his body o the left and leaned backwards while stabbing with his own weapon, but Eth swung his attack round to his right, drawing a drop of blood before Torsot's blow would have landed.
Then he was behind Torsot but being drawn into a combat with Kun, who could tell that his opponent was now tired from the magic and fighting. He hacked at Eth's neck before the murderer could recover from his last stab, and saw the mad disappear again, though he couldn't see the murderer within Scal's arena of flames. He instinctively ducked, but Eth wasn't behind him. He turned to Scal. "Did you get where he went?"
"I... think so. It was quite far away..."
"And the suit?" Torsot inquired.
"It should work..."
Kun's expression tightened. "So, this works, or... well, at least I won't be the one seeing my innards scattered throughout the known world." The others nodded. None of them were happy about the risks. "Well, my father must be avenged, and there aren't many opportunities but this. Scal, do it."
She nodded, then moved over to her husband's armour, an intricate piece of metal, chitin and gemstone, and placed a hand on the centre of his breastplate before starting to murmur. He felt dark flames encircling his mind, creeping indefatigably closer, a desperate urge to run filling his mind yet the joy of the power and the thoughts of vengeance staying him, letting the evil happen. Then the magic was upon him and he felt it tearing through him, ripping him apart then placing him somewhere else yet miraculously in one piece, his armour around him glowing red-hot as if it had been in a fire mere moments ago, but somehow not burning him.
*****
Torsot walked slowly to where Kun had been standing a moment before, struggling to stop himself from shaking. He knelt down, seeing the grass slightly burned where his friend had stood a moment ago. He released a breath, tentatively as if it might be his last. "Well, I can't see any innards. Scal, how did it go?"
She looked down, concentration clear on her face. "I don't know... I've never done it before; I don't know how it should feel..."
He thought for a second. “Well, we had better start moving. Eth will still have a little fight left in him. Kun could get injured.” He looked at Scal, who was barely able to stay upright from exhaustion due to the magic. “Here, have this.” He reached into his small pack and brought out a fox, roasted from the inside out, which had made the mistake of stepping on a branch.
He cut off a leg and skinned it, handing it to her. “Eat it quickly, we don’t have long.” She nodded and started eating.
*****
It took Kun most of his willpower to force his eyes open, but when he did he found himself near a small tent, probably one of Eth’s last resort hideaways. He tightened his grip on his weapon and started walking.
Not more than a few yards forwards, his father’s killer burst from the tent, clasping his two knives, having felt the magic from Kun’s magical transportation.
“You! But… how?” he yelled, as though Kun had broken the rules in some complex game, or as though he was a mere illusion which mere shouts could dispel.
Kun grinned, tightening his grip on the blade. “Turns out you don’t know as much as Scal and Torsot about magic. Turns out,” he slowly strode forwards, his tone jovial, “magicians can perform any type of magic. It’s just that very few have each type of power. And best of all, it turns out,” he stopped a yard away from his opponent, “that if someone uses magic near you, and you have the right equipment,” he pointed at the large gem that was the centre of his breastplate, “you can store some of it.”
“Oh well. For a moment, I thought you wouldn’t figure that out, that I’d easily destroy you simply via your own lack of knowledge about magic. Still, I doubt this will be the last time I see you.” He smiled, clicking his fingers as he turned away. “Goodbye, Kun!” Then he was walking away, gem-encrusted ring flashing in the early dawn light. Kun, however, was too busy for pursuit as he tried to control the flames consuming his cloak.
