Destiny (12 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

Location Irlendria / Nessa Manitou:

This time when Nessa awoke, she felt whole. The terrible despair that had tortured her soul had finally left her. Not completely, she could still feel the grief from the loss of her brother, but it was bearable for the first time.

Nessa’s stomach growled painfully. Rising to her knees she could smell the food that had been left by the entrance. Crawling to the clay jars, she began ravenously shoveling food into her mouth. At first, her thoughts were solely on quenching the terrible hunger that burned in her belly, but slowly as her stomach began to fill, a plan began forming in her head. Emptying the last jar, Nessa closed her eyes as she remembered Tolnik’s last thoughts before he died.

Nessa knew what she had to do. Springing to her hooves, she quickly began preparing for battle. Going to the armor stand, she began strapping her gear into place preparing for battle. First came the barding for her hind quarters, which fitted over her flanks in interlocking panels. The incredibly tough leather was taken from the chukka that grazed across the plains in massive herds. Each piece of hide was double layered and boiled into hardened shapes that were further reinforced with bone.

For her torso, Nessa strapped the chukka bone breastplate that her Father had made for her coming of age ceremony six years ago. The breastplate attached directly to the leather equipment harness that crisscrossed her ample chest. The white pipping bones were made from the cylindrical foot segments of the six-legged Chukka. After much preparation, the bones were sewn together at a slight angle in two columns with colorful beads and strands of braided intestine to create the chest piece.

At the top of her equipment harness, Nessa attached boiled leather shoulder pads into place. Lastly, she wrapped thick leather bracers over her wrists. Lacing them tightly in place, Nessa reached for the clay jars that held her spirit paint as she hum-chanted wordlessly to the Sky-Father.

The first color Nessa chose was the white kaolin paste. Using both hands, she spread the thick substance on her face and down her neck. White was for sorrow, symbolizing the spirit world and the realm of the Sky-Father. What she did now was for her brother Tolnik.

Dipping her hand in the yellow paint, Nessa pressed her palm against her left cheek. This was her oath. Death to the enemies of her people and the creatures that had murdered her brother. Her promise to the Sky-Father that she would fight to the death, that she would see Tolnik avenged.

The last clay jar held a red paint made from the bloodroots that grew like weeds across the plains. Using two fingers, Nessa drew the sign of a mace across her opposite cheek. Red was the symbol of war and the color of strength. It was a warning to all that stood against her. It was her promise to the Sky-Father. Wiping the excess paint from her hands, Nessa reached for her weapons.

First grabbing the long bow and heavy quiver on the weapon stand, Nessa strapped the gear into place on her back harness. Next to them went the two long daggers she used for close in fighting. Lastly, she picked up the extra-long tinnearlian-wood mace that she used as her primary weapon.

Hefting the heavy wood in both hands, she traced the inlaid Klavikian runes that ran down its length with her black eyes. The two-handed mace was named Zula. It had been crafted by her great-great-great-grandfather, Cree Manitou, nearly a millennium ago. Cree had made the weapon during the War against the Hordes of Loviatar with the help of the Paladin Ilmarinen Ironwolf. It was Ilmarinen that had taught her people the secret of harnessing the forces of nature. With Luonnotar’s blessing, on that day the first of the chosen were born.

Focusing her power, Nessa sent energy coursing through the runes. At once the mace began to burn with blue fire. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently. “Great Sky-Father, I pray that you give me the strength to fight the evil within our midst.” As the last words left her lips, Nessa felt a calming peace come over her. There was only one more thing she needed to do. Trotting out of her tent, Nessa went immediately to the old Shaman’s wigwam. Calling out, she pushed aside the hides covering the entrance.

“We must speak Uzila.”

Not hearing a response, Nessa stepped all the way inside looking around. Except for the white bones of various creatures hanging from the walls and numerous clay jars of ingredients, the wigwam was empty. Walking thoughtfully across the skins strewn across the hard packed ground, she considered where the Shaman might be. Near the fire pit in the center of the wigwam, Nessa paused as she saw the bundles of fresh cut Tuppalnins.

Uzila must be gathering them from the field of Torne nearby! Bursting from the Shaman’s wigwam in a rush, Nessa galloped heading for the south side of the Thunder Tribe’s encampment. The Centaurs she passed stopped with looks of consternation as they saw the colors of her painted face and her gear. By the time she made it onto the open plains, the entire Tribe was abuzz with rumors.

Ignoring everything, Nessa headed for the small copse of trees growing near the Otso River’s banks where the field of Torne lay.

Tuppalnins could only be harvested for a short time during the year. Most of the blooms here had already been picked over, but on the far side of the clearing, there was a patch that was still partly left. As if someone had stopped in the middle of gathering the precious blooms.

Inspecting the damp earth, Nessa recognized Uzila’s tracks following the curve of the river a short distance out. They were fresh and very shallow. Uzila must have been trying to move silently.

Keeping low, Nessa followed after the old Shaman’s trail at a quick trot, her hooves moving silently in the deep grass.

The water moved slower here due to the width of the river, but farther out into the plains the river turned into rough rapids and was the only water for miles around. Nessa’s father had told her the Otso River began somewhere deep in the Shadow Fang mountains on the other side of the Great Forest. It was there that it started its long journey. Along the way, it passed through most of Irlendria on its twisting trek to the far ocean. Several miles later, Nessa was studying the ground deciding how far she should follow this trail when a bright flash of light caught her attention.

The shock wave of the blast shook the air around her as light spots danced in front of her eyes. Blinking furiously, Nessa’s version came back just in time to see Uzila flying through the air over the rise of the next hill. As the old Shaman landed hard in the tall grass, Nessa saw her brother top the rise chasing after her. Even from this distance, she could see his face wasn’t right. His mouth gaped open half again the size of his face and his arms stretched out from his body in long grotesque mutant like claws.

Uzila struggled to roll back to her hooves, but not before Tolnik was on top of her. In a flash, his sharp claws pierced her body as he effortlessly lifted her weakly struggling mass in the air. Throwing his head back, Nessa heard Tolnik’s triumphant cry as she shouldered her mace and unlimbered her bow in one smooth motion as she charged.

THUNK … THUNK …THUNK

Tolnik’s misshapen head jerked back in shock as Nessa’s arrows began slamming center mass in his chest in a steady stream. With a shriek, Tolnik threw Uzila to the ground hard as his arms drew back protectively covering his face.

Arrows stuck out from Tolnik’s muscular arms at odd angles as blood chilling hisses came from his grotesque lips. As the distance closed, Nessa jinxed to the side as the creature that had stolen her brother’s body lashed out in sudden fury.

Razor sharp claws flew past her in the blink of an eye as they passed through the spot where she’d been just a moment earlier. Continuing to close, Nessa ignored the misshapen arms stretching around behind her as she whipped the bow onto her back harness. Whipping out her mace, she closed to melee range calling forth her energy. As blue fire flared along the length of the shaft, Nessa suddenly felt herself flying through the air.

“OOOFFF!” Unconsciously the sound came from Nessa’s dry lips as she crashed hard into the ground on the other side of the monster. Vaguely she remembered seeing the flashing blow as the creature’s misshapen arms slammed into her from behind. Lurching to her hooves, Nessa froze as she saw the cruel look on the grotesque aberration that wore her brother’s face.

For a long moment, they sized each other up. Nessa’s withers burned from where the monster’s claws had torn through the armor protecting her flanks, gouging bloody rivulets into her flesh while the creature bled from the arrows piercing its arms and chest.

Tolnik’s twisted lips formed into a wicked smile as he gathered his long misshapen arms back into his body. “Aren’t family reunions so much fun?” Ignoring the bait, Nessa raised her mace up defensively as she shifted her weight preparing to spring. Mockingly, the voice continued taunting her. “You look much tastier than your brother.”

Ignoring the creature’s words Nessa pressed her lips together as she waited for the attack. She knew the monster was trying to goad her into making the first move. Out of the corner of her eye, Nessa saw the old Shaman’s hands suddenly clutch at the dirt near the creature’s feet as her heart skipped a beat. Uzila still lived!

“I shall enjoy making you scream like I did your brother!” With a shriek, the creature’s grotesque arms shot out impossibly fast heading straight at her face. Prepared for the attack, Nessa threw her weight to the side swinging the mace with all of her strength.

The sounds of crunching bones rang out around her as Nessa felt the mace connect. Faster than eyes could follow the monster whipped its arms back to its chest screaming in wordless rage as the mace was wrenched from her clenched fists.

Searing fire ran down the side of her face from the hit as Nessa shook the flashing stars away from her eyes. With grim determination, she drew the long daggers from her back sheaths. Laying the blades against her forearms, Nessa wiped away the blood running down her cheek with the back of her hand as the blue runes etched within the blades glowed to life. Facing-off with the monster, she brought her arms up defensively as the creature slowly licked the blood from its claws with a long tongue.

“Like any dumb beast, you stubbornly refuse to admit the simple truth.” Laughing evilly, the creature clinched its hands into oversized fists. “You’re already dead!”

This time, the monster’s blows struck quicker than the eye could follow as Nessa fell back slashing wildly. As the blood flowed into her eyes blinding her, Nessa fought to protect herself as best she could. Closing in once again with the insanely strong beast, she gritted her teeth as the creature’s rock hard fists drove into her mercilessly.

Air whooshed out of her lungs, and Nessa felt her ribs snap as the creature’s powerful blows rained down upon her torso and flanks. Even though her body was racked with pain from the brutal onslaught, she drove herself forward, slashing at the creature with her blades.

At one point she severed through one of the monster’s stretched limbs, but it didn’t stop the savage beating. Unfazed, the beast continued pummeling her with its bloody stump. With growing horror, Nessa realized the truth. The creature wasn’t trying to kill her. The assault was too purposely targeted for that. The creature wanted to keep her alive!

Staggering heavily as she took a hit to the back of the head, Nessa felt herself falling. A second later her body slam into the ground as the creature’s fists continued to hammer at her head and face. When the blows finally stopped, Nessa saw the corpse-white monster towering over her through swollen half-closed eyes. A second later she heard the ragged screams of her own voice as the creature’s long claws dug deep trails down her flank. In horror, Nessa watched the monster bring a bloody chunk of flesh to its lips slurping in ecstasy.

“Your fear is so succulent! I will enjoy feasting on-”

Strobing bright light blinded Nessa momentarily as the ground shook from the blast. As if far away she heard the sound of an explosion ripping through the air around her as soothing darkness washed over her consciousness. A couple of seconds later, Nessa awoke with a jerk as she heard the old Shaman’s craggily voice calling out to her.

“Nessa, can you hear me, my child?” Everything hurt as Nessa pushed her upper torso off the ground. Rolling to her knees, she wiped the blood from her eyes searching for the creature that had stolen Tolnik’s face. Unbelievably he was nowhere to be seen.

“What just happened? Uzila, where did Tolnik go?” Nessa turned back to look at the old Shaman as her voice suddenly caught in her throat.

“Thank the Sky-Father you live!” Hacking blood from her lungs Uzila continued weakly. “There is little time, young one. I drove him off with Luonnotar’s blessing, but he’ll be back soon enough.” Following Nessa’s look of horror, Uzila grimaced shuddering in agony. “You must go now!"

Bloody guts trailed across the trampled ground to the old Shaman’s barrel chest from where she’d crawled to Nessa’s side. As Nessa begin shaking her head no, Uzila eyes hardened. “Child, you must go to Mount Airy and find your Father!”

A look of horror crossed Nessa’s face. She tried to yank her arm free, but the old Shaman’s held her fast. “You must heed my words! I am done for child. Only your Father can save us now.”

Nessa stopped struggling as Uzila was overwhelmed by another fit of racking coughs. By the time Uzila recovered enough to talk, blood was running freely down her chest in rivulets.

“The beast that wears Tolnik’s skin has sent others like him to kill your Father.” Grabbing Nessa by the shoulders in a death grip, Uzila lifted her torso up to look directly into Nessa’s eyes. “You must not let your Father be taken!” With her last breath, Uzila tried to make Nessa understand. “The Elders must be told of the Tuonellians return!”

Sudden pain racked the old Shaman as her muscles clenched in agony. Eyes bulging out, Uzila strained to get her last words out. Nessa watched in horror as Uzila’s eyes rolled into her head. Her body went rigid one last time as the life fled her ruined body. Closing her eyes, Nessa bowed her head.

“Sky-Father, I pray that you watch over Uzila as her soul rises to your embrace. She has been a true Spirit Mother to the People of the Thunder Tribe.”

For a long moment, Nessa could only stare helplessly at her old friend’s stiff body. Carefully she pried the old Shaman’s stiff fingers away from her shoulders. Laying Uzila gently on the ground, Nessa folded the old Shaman’s arms across her chest as she kissed the wrinkled forehead tenderly.

Tears slowly streaming down her face, Nessa contemplated Uzila’s words. She remembered the Tribes gruesome stories from the Tuonellian War and of the fearsome Hulks that had slaughtered so many of the People during the invasion. There was no way father could hope to fight these terrible creatures alone. She had to find a way to save him!

Pulling out the pouch of herbs from Uzila’s back harness, Nessa found the Tuppalnins the old Shaman had gathered earlier in the day. Crushing the delicate yellow blooms in her hands, she worked quickly pressing the crushed pulp onto the worst of her wounds. The pedals and roots of the weeds were used by her people to make poultices that enhance healing. Although it worked better when it was distilled, the quick poultices she’d applied would help to ease the pain of her wounds.

Finished, Nessa forced her battered body to her hooves. Gathering up her lost weapons, she sheathed them on her back harness before taking one last look at Uzila unmoving form. The old Shaman had been like a mother to her. After her mother’s death, Uzila had raised her as her own foal. Showing her the ways of the spirit walk and how to commune with Mother-Earth, Nessa had become a chosen of Luonnotar.

The emotional pain of loss felt worse than the physical wounds that covered her body. Wiping her tears away with her knuckles, Nessa spun around heading towards the Southeast. Using all of her willpower she pushed her abused body into a slow trot. Although a trot had nowhere near the speed of a fast gallop, it was a pace she could keep up for days, and Mount Airy was, at least, three days of hard travel away.

If the stories of the Hulks were true, it would take every ounce of strength she had to make it to Mount Airy ahead of the creature in time to help her father. Gritting her teeth, Nessa pushed herself hard ignoring her screaming muscles. Slowly the stiffness left her limbs as her hooves began striking the ground in a steady rhythm.

Focused on the dark shadow of the lonely mountain towering above the horizon, the golden rolling hills of the plains flowed by as Nessa’s pondered over Uzila’s warning. Although she had never seen a Tuonellian Hulk before now, the songs of her People were filled with stories of the terrible creatures that had slaughtered so many during the onset of the War. The surviving warriors from that time all carried gruesome battle scars from those earlier days.

When she was a young foal, Nessa had loved hearing about the deeds of valor from the War, but as she’d grown older that interest had waned. Massive armies of the Alliance fighting desperate battles against endless waves of the Tuonellian Hordes, terrible demons standing over a hundred hands high met head-on by the Paladins of Ukko as the entire world burned, it was simply too much for an experienced warrior such as herself to accept. But now, after facing the incredible strength of a Tuonellian Hulk for the first time, all the old stories she’d heard suddenly came flooding back to her.

What if they were all real?

A foreboding dread filled Nessa’s heart as she watched the golden orb of Paiva sink below the horizon. It was almost as if the turn in her thoughts had brought on the growing darkness like some terrible omen. The feeling only intensified as the dry plains around her suddenly turned bloodred.

Looking behind her, Nessa saw the Demon Moon rising into the night’s sky behind her. Remember her father’s words, Nessa mentally corrected herself. Its true name was Romulus, but nowadays it was called the Demon Moon.

In the past, Romulus had always risen after its larger brother Remus, but during her grandfather’s time, almost seventeen hundred years ago, that suddenly changed. On the first night, Romulus had risen ahead of its brother, the invasion of the Tuonellian Hordes had begun.

Initially, the races of Irlendria had been overwhelmed by the terrible onslaught invading their lands. Even the People of the Plains had been slaughtered in the tens of thousands, but the Klavikians had changed all of that. With their Holy Paladins of Ukko, the Klavikians were able to hold back the invasion long enough for the races of Irlendria to band together to form the Alliance of Aurenko. Sharing their eldritch knowledge the Klavikian’s taught the Alliance the way of crafting rune weapons strong enough to fight against the invaders.

Nessa’s thoughts began to wander as fatigue from the battle settled into her limbs. Around her, the blood red of the plains began to fade as Remus’ blue light grew around her. Reaching into the pouch at her waist, Nessa removed a small piece of Alttash’s Tears. Chewing slowly on the bitter root, she focused on putting one hoof in front of the other.