Scales of the Serpent

21

He could hear her laughter again. Lilith’s triumphant laughter. Each time, she stole hope away from him.

But if she thought that this would finally break him, finally make Uldyssian surrender the souls of the edyrem to her, than the demoness was sorely mistaken.

The corpses shambling toward his people were no more than shells. The spirits of the men and women they had once been had moved on. That was made even more evident by the fact that none of the resurrected edyrem used their powers. All kept to the weapons at hand. When Uldyssian probed one of the figures, he sensed nothing living.

That settled it for him. Feeling no regret for what he had to do, Uldyssian waved his hand toward the first several walking dead. They immediately collapsed. However, before he could sigh in relief, the bodies stumbled to their feet again, weapons once more ready to add the living to their ranks.

As powerful as he was, Uldyssian could not play this endless game against Lilith and the priests. He would have to destroy her creatures en mass, but that risked him injuring or even slaying his followers in the process.

But there was no other choice. Each moment that he hesitated, more of those who had put their lives in his hands fell victim…and then rose to add others.

He had only one hope, but it risked everything.

Then again, the battle was already beyond concerning himself about that.

Pull back…he commanded the edyrem in front of him. Quickly! Those that can, create a shield! Separate us from them, if only for a few feet!

They obeyed without question, which made him cringe inside. In their minds, Uldyssian had come to save them again. However, he could no longer promise that would be the case.

His heart beat as he waited for them to do as he said. Yet, although in some places they managed to succeed, in others it proved impossible to disengage with the morlu and the Peace Warders. Uldyssian could wait no longer. He prayed that he could control his powers enough to keep from adding too many of his companions to the casualties. Worse, he did not even know if what he planned would accomplish anything accept delay defeat.

He focused on the mass of bodies—

The resurrected dead suddenly began falling. Not merely those of the dead edyrem and Peace Warders, but also the slain morlu. They simply collapsed as if a gust of wind had blown all of them over.

But this miracle was not due to Uldyssian. Startled, he looked around for the source, but could not find it.

Then, it occurred to him not to waste this moment.

Strike! he ordered the others. Strike before they recover!

To their credit, the edyrem reorganized immediately. Saron and the other commanders led them forward. The surviving Peace Warders and morlu readied themselves for what was surely the last confrontation. They had every confidence in their might despite this abrupt turnaround.

But then a voice called out in a language that Uldyssian did not understand. He did recognize that voice though, and his heart leapt at its sound.

A figure in black, one hand holding high a gleaming white dagger, shouted again in the direction of the attackers. Mendeln, his pale face drawn and his voice strained, repeated the same words over and over.

And as Uldyssian watched, in the front line one morlu after another let out hisses of dismay…and fell as dead as the once animated bodies.

The Peace Warders and priests faltered, stunned as their most potent weapon proved vulnerable. Those morlu behind also slowed, for the first time their movements showing uncertainty and even, perhaps, a little anxiousness.

Uldyssian glanced around quickly and saw that nearly everywhere the foremost morlu had collapsed. He immediately urged the edyrem to press the fight harder and they answered his call. Peace Warders and morlu who dared to push forward found their advance blocked by the invisible barriers. Balls of energy flew at the ranks of the Triune, downing more than one foe. Uldyssian directed the efforts of his best converts against the priests, harrying the robed figures to such a point that some started to retreat.

But those who did were not allowed to get very far. One screamed as thorns burst out over all parts of his body. He toppled into one of his fellows, who pulled back with blood from two puncture wounds staining the side of his garments.

It had been through no effort of the edyrem that this had happened. Uldyssian sensed Lilith’s anger, as, of course, did the priests. Out of fear of their supposed Primus, they returned to the struggle.

Uldyssian rewarded their decision with a net of vines that dropped down and roped the necks and limbs of three. Using the Thonos for his inspiration, he had the vines tightened until they strangled his adversaries.

As if thought of it had somehow caught the demon’s attention, the Thonos let out a roar so loud that Uldyssian knew that it had to be right behind him. He barely scattered out of the way as the behemoth staggered past. Many of its tentacles hung limp and there were burning sores where most of the eyes had been. Arrows pin cushioned the beast, each having struck a vital part.

Of Achilios, there was no sign, but Uldyssian could not concern himself with the archer, for the Thonos, each step more ragged than the previous, began listing dangerously. Uldyssian calculated its path and quickly warned those in the way.

Move! Move now! he repeated over and over until the last edyrem had managed to leap aside.

The Thonos unleashed a last, drawn-out roar…and tumbled over. Uldyssian did what he could to adjust the giant demon’s descent.

Their ranks tight, the Triune’s minions could not clear out of the way. Some did manage to flee, but most were caught under the falling behemoth. Hardened Peace Warders cried out in panic, then were crushed beneath the massive body. Other warriors escaped the corpse, but were batted aside by the many flailing limbs that followed. Even the morlu did not escape, several of them tossed like leaves.

With gusto, the edyrem charged back into the area. Only the morlu there still had any fight left in them, but their numbers kept dwindling as Mendeln shouted out the mysterious words at the top of his voice.

Then, a familiar buzzing sound filled the air. Uldyssian let out a gasp and reached out, but his reaction was too slow. The deadly Peace Warder weapon flew at his brother, its thrower expertly aiming for Mendeln’s chest.

At the last moment, Mendeln twisted, his free arm blocking the way. Unfortunately, flesh and bone were not enough armor against such a sinister weapon. The spinning blades cut through his arm midway between the shoulder and the elbow. Mendeln’s arm literally dropped off.

The blades cut through his garments and left a shallow cut along his side, but that was finally the end of it. It said something for Mendeln’s stamina that he still stood even as blood poured from the ruined arm. Uldyssian’s brother gazed down at the lost limb, then touched what was left near his shoulder.

The bleeding halted just as Uldyssian joined him. “Let me help you with that!”

“There is no time!” Mendeln argued. His pale face had grown even more so, but otherwise he seemed himself. The massive wound looked half-healed already. “We must press! We must end this here!”

But it’ll not end here! Uldyssian realized. It’ll go on as long as Lilith continues to haunt us!

Nevertheless, he let Mendeln have his way. Once again holding high the unsettling blade, Uldyssian’s younger sibling renewed his chant. More and more morlu toppled over, the demonic strings guiding them severed forever.

Uldyssian turned to seek Achilios, but still his friend was nowhere to be found. There was Serenthia, however. She utilized her spear and her powers as if born to them. Each time a Peace Warder or some other adversary perished at the point of the weapon, another fell to a fire ball, a storm of dust, or some other conjuration.

Serenthia! he called. Where is Timeon? Like Achilios, there was no trace of him.

Dead! A morlu caught his eyes turned elsewhere and his powers defending another!

The Parthans were growing fewer and fewer and even though this night had witnessed both his brother and his childhood comrade return to his side, the loss of Timeon only emphasized again how Uldyssian’s past was being eaten away. It did not help that he saw Jonas—once scarred Jonas—commanding others in the name of his only blood relation.

Damn you, Lilith! he silently swore. No, this would never end! If she could not use the Triune, the demoness would slip away to find some other method by which to seize the edyrem…seize all of Humanity for her own.

He could not let her. He could not let her continue. Uldyssian imagined her before him, imagined her in his grip—

And so she was.

The daughter of Mephisto stood right in front of Uldyssian, her expression as wide-eyed and wondering as his. She wore no guise, appearing before him as the reptilian temptress he had last seen. Uldyssian did indeed hold her as he imagined, hands clamped painfully tight around her upper arms. Their faces were less than a foot apart.

Unfortunately, it was Lilith who recovered first. Her gaping mouth transformed into the familiar, beguiling smile with which as Lylia she had first captured his heart.

“Why, Uldyssian, my love! If you wanted me in your arms again, you should’ve just told me.”

Something snared him around the throat, constricting like a serpent. Too late he recognized it as her tail.

“We should go to somewhere more private, don’t you think?”

They vanished from the battle. Serenthia felt Uldyssian’s surprise and his subsequent dismay, but the struggle against the Triune prevented her from coming to his aid. She sensed Lilith’s awful presence and almost screamed in horror when both he and the demoness disappeared.

But even then there was nothing that the merchant’s daughter could do, nothing but continue to fight and kill Peace Warders, priests, and morlu, each of whom seemed immediately replaced by two more. That Mendeln had returned and had stripped many of the morlu of their parody of life had helped stave off the onslaught, but that was all. The servants of the temple were better trained for this chaos; Uldyssian’s followers were still, for the most part, farmers, merchants, and the like.

Yet they fought with far greater determination and skill than even she could have imagined…but would it be enough?

Two morlu converged on her. However, before Serenthia could deal with them, a succession of arrows caught the pair in both their eyes and their throats. Each strike was accompanied by a flash of energy.

The morlu dropped.

“Achilios?” she blurted. Through Uldyssian, Serenthia had been alerted to the archer’s presence, but unable to sense him herself, she had only half-believed. Now…

Now the dark-haired woman fought harder. Achilios was with her, even if she had yet to actually see him. He was with her. Whatever the outcome, victory or defeat, they would be together.

Whether in life or in death, they would be together… Had someone informed Mendeln that he would have the wherewithal to not only survive the severing of his arm but go on as if nothing had happened, he would have thought them mad. Now, he thought himself mad… but did not care. Uldyssian was gone, taken by the demoness. Mendeln could not tell what was at this moment happening to his brother, but it could be nothing good. Lilith had surely had enough of his defiance; she would see to it that he would pay for it and pay dearly.

I wanted to stand at his side, Mendeln bitterly thought. A short time that certainly was…

He considered calling to Rathma and Trag’Oul, but for reasons that he could not explain, held back. Instead, he used his wound and his bitterness to power his work. One morlu after another morlu—the fiends bereft of the demonic essence that animated them—dropped before him. Each casting took its toll upon him, though, something he did not outwardly show. Yet, there were still morlu, too many morlu, and their savage blades continued to get through some edyrem’s shield, splattering the innards of that hapless person over other defenders.

They must all be cast out if we are to win…or even survive…they must be!

A morlu broke through. Rather than attack from behind those battling the Triune, the bestial warrior headed for the children and weaker within the circle. A monstrous grin stretched across the fiend’s unnatural countenance. At the same time, two more slipped through other cracks in the ranks of Uldyssian’s followers. The edyrem had proven themselves several times over; they were just outnumbered and lacked the foul expertise of their foes.

They must be cast out! But he was the only one with that ability and had so far proven wanting. All that the dragon and Rathma had shown or taught him meant nothing. None of their methods or spells had focused on such a monumental and desperate task.

Yet, Mendeln had to try. It still did not mean that the edyrem would be saved, but to simply give up…

And that suddenly gave him an idea of how to come to his brother’s aid. It, too, was a desperate notion…

He pulled the small bone fragment from his pocket. Without hesitation, he said to it, “To my brother. To help him against Lilith.”

The fragment vanished. Mendeln hoped that he had not just made a terrible mistake, but he had not had any other choice.

That left the morlu with which to deal. Bracing himself, Mendeln ran through the words in his head. They had to be arranged just so. He no longer followed his mentors’ examples, but his own.

If the Balance decrees it, Uldyssian’s brother thought. Then it will work…

And if the Balance did not…Mendeln did not want to think about it.

He held the dagger up and began shouting. His spell was his own variation of what he had used already, but now amplified. Yet it was not the words of power alone that he needed. Mendeln threw his will into it, threw everything that he was into it. The morlu were an abomination; they had to be cast out…

From the dagger burst a blinding light which caused Mendeln himself to cry out in surprise. He staggered, suddenly feeling as if his very life were draining from him.

The light spread out among the edyrem and then their enemies. Mendeln watched with hope, with anxiousness, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he nearly gave in to his growing weakness.

But then, a morlu flung back his helmet. The ghoulish warrior, his horrific, scarred face fully revealed, took an awkward step in Mendeln’s direction…and then spun around and crashed to the ground.

The one next to the first fell over. A third followed suit.

It is happening! Mendeln cheered. It is happening!

However, it was still happening too slow and the stress on him was becoming overwhelming. He fell to one knee even as an entire row of morlu simply collapsed.

Mendeln cursed his failing body. He also cursed Rathma and Trag’Oul for leaving all of this to him. They spoke of the need to maintain the Balance, but how could that happen if the edyrem were slaughtered here? Of what use was the Balance, then? Why could the dragon not once come out of hiding and act, rather than endlessly preach what others should do?

You speak the truth, came the familiar voice suddenly. You speak the truth, Mendel ul-Diomed…

It was as if Uldyssian’s brother had been asleep all his life and only now had awakened to the forces with which the dragon—and Rathma, Mendeln sensed—filled him to overflowing. Mendeln rose full of hope, full of power.

Power which he focused on the dagger…and his spell.

The light shone so bright that surely even those awake in the capital should have seen it. All around him, the combatants froze in astonishment.

And the morlu—all the morlu—finally died…again.

They fell by the dozens, by the scores, and Mendeln was certain, by the hundreds. As he turned around, he saw only their corpses littering the already blood-soaked jungle. Thankfully, he knew that these beasts would not rise again, for he had taken that into account when he had derived his own spell.

They are all finished, Trag’Oul declared. They are no more…

The dragon and Rathma withdrew from him. Mendeln teetered, then dropped to both knees. His arm fell to his side and as it did the incredible illumination cast by his dagger vanished.

Another voice entered his thoughts, yet one that he welcomed, for it did not speak to him alone, but all the defenders.

Have at them! Serenthia commanded. They’re confused! Lost! Now’s the time to strike —for Uldyssian!

A spontaneous cheer arose from among his brother’s followers and even Mendeln added his own ragged cry to it.

The edyrem swept out toward their adversaries, beating back the Peace Warders and countering the spells of the priests. In addition to the clash of arms, there were balls of energy, feats of enhanced strength, and more. The once invincible ranks of the Triune splintered. Peace Warders fought, but not with much hope.

Mendeln wanted to do nothing more than sleep, but he fought to his feet. Sleep could only come when—assuming no new horror reared its ugly head—Lilith’s minions were utterly broken. Only then…

He sensed a priest casting. Mendeln shoved the dagger forward and muttered. In his mind, he saw the priest’s spell turn on the man. A dark shadow enveloped the caster, a shadow that literally ate away at him until nothing remained. The priest did not even have time to scream.

There were still many to fight, but the odds were now with the edyrem. Their confidence continued to swell—that, and the fact that they knew in their hearts that this was the decisive moment.

And so they fought. Mendeln, aware that he could do no more for his brother, fought with them. At that moment, he both respected and hated the Balance, for he knew very well that the edyrem needed to win, even if it meant losing Uldyssian. Sanctuary could survive without his brother. Mendeln could only hope that by sending the bone fragment to wherever his sibling was that it would help Uldyssian survive.

Of course, considering just what the piece contained, considering the potential for evil within it, it was also possible that Mendeln had done just the opposite…