Black Promises

“We have it!” crowed Chim as he raised the black scythe over his nut-brown head and away from the crumbling debris of an ancient tomb. Dark clouds swirled overhead as he staggered under the heavy weapon’s weight. The blade hissed faintly as he lifted it in triumph.1

“Give me that!” hissed Kali as she tore the prize from his hands. Her dark blue curls bounced about her reddened face before she glared up into the sky. She covered the scythe with her black cloak and turned to Chim with a snarl, “You fool! You bring the Gods down on us!” Her long fingers curled about the small man’s neck as she raises the scythe, “I should kill you as you stand!”2

As the torrential rain started to fall, Kali smiled wickedly and stepped back from the small, sputtering man. “It seems I will not have to…” her soft chuckle followed her as she strolled to her horse and flung herself astride with the scythe nestled in her lap. She turned her white gelding and raced away from the encampment with six horsemen behind her.3

Chim rubbed his neck as he gathered himself up. Screams came from further inside the rubble and he clambered up to the edge to see what was going on. Dark red waters tore upwards from below, washing away everything in its path. The scream on his lips froze as the frothy mass fell upon him.4

Kali stood by her horse at the edge of the destruction. Her soft lips twisted into a satisfied smile as she watched the destruction below. “Father Lyde will be pleased,” her voice brought chills to the riders beside her.5

She brushed the shaft gently with one hand and smiled as the dark magic inside leapt to life at her touch. “Soon,” she cooed softly, “Nothing will stop us.”6

With a quick turn, she drove her heels into her gelding and stormed down the trail. She would be there by nightfall and her father would welcome her as He’d always promised. There would be nothing to stop Him from coming for her.
= = =
Tylonne cursed his luck. She had been here and gone. The murky slop that covered the ancient city was still fresh, but the Dark Scythe was not here. The black clouds overhead were proof enough. He nudged a nearby body and cringed at the smell. The spew must be more than just simple water. There was nothing left here but to pick up her trail again. Umbar, his warhorse pawed the ground anxious to go. He turned and caught the horse’s reins as his hand brushed against the stolen shield. There would be a great deal of explaining to do when all this was over.7

Shaking himself out of his dreary thoughts, Tylonne pulled himself up into the saddle. Everything would have to wait until the Dark Scythe was back where it belonged: hidden. An icy draft made him shiver and he turned to look at the mountains to the north. So, that’s where she was going? He’d have to hurry.8

She was headed North on well-traveled roads with about six other riders. His gloved hand traced the heavy tracks on the road. They were moving fast. The elf looked up through his long blue hair, his eyes trained on the tallest mountain. White Mountain hung on the horizon. There was little time to dawdle then.9

The elf glanced back over his shoulder. He knew better than to think he wasn’t followed, but by who, he couldn’t say and there wasn’t time to find out. The trail was growing cold as he stood and he had no time to waste. Tylonne raced down the road on his warhorse without a second thought. The Dark Scythe was far more important than whatever tag-along he had.10

= = =11

The pale moon hung above and a frosty wind curled across the camp. Kali looked down at them from her perch and frowned. They had stopped. The anvil was but a few hours away and they had stopped. She cursed them all as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. These delays were beyond understandable. First food and now rest? Mortals were so horrid to work with!12

She traced the blade of the scythe and wondered how many had died at the hands of this weapon. Their distant cries whispered in her ears as she held the weapon. A simple curse might lighten her mood. A slow, crooked smile darkened her face as she brushed her blue curls away. Yes…13

= = =14

Tylonne heard the screams echoing down the mountain. Black clouds curled around White Mountain’s peak. He urged Umbar to hurry. They were close. His hand caught the hilt of his stolen sword as they turned another corner. Umbar reared as six horses bolted pass them; rider-less. There was one missing. Tylonne steadied his stallion before pushing forward again. The sickening taint of magic hung on the icy wind and clung to the drifting snow. The fire’s light brought him to the camp before he even realized what had happened here.15

Tylonne stumbled from his saddle and bent over. His ashen face taunt as his stomach tried to jump through his mouth. By the Light, what had happened to them? The elf warily caught Umbar’s reins as he stood. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he led them through the wreckage. These things had once been men--Humans, actually. All caught up in the thirst for power of one very confused elf. Crunching snow brought his attention behind him and curses to his lips.16

Beautiful, headstrong woman that she was, Rayne had not stayed home as he’d expected. He could easily blame himself for thinking she ever would do such a thing, even in the state she was in now. “Stop glaring at me,” she snapped as she brought her mare up beside him.17

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do this,” Tylonne pushed Umbar ahead and bent over the saddle to see if he could find Kali’s tracks.18

The sweet bells of her laughter tickled his lips as he tried not to smile in return. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t try stealing weapons from my armory.”19

A growl rumbled in his throat, “Our armory.”20

He glanced back to see a slight shrug of her slender shoulders. She wasn’t going to argue that point, but Tylonne knew she wouldn’t agree. Even with her rounded stomach, she exuded grace and an unmanageable amount of stubbornness. Tylonne sighed as he brought Umbar around so he could look at the woman he’d taken as wife. “Then I suppose you know where she is?”21

= = =22

The wind was stronger here. Gusts of snow and ice whipped about her like angry demons. She clung to the Dark Scythe as she slowly pushed forward to the ancient anvil before her. She raised the heavy blade over the anvil; fighting the flood of wind as it tried to tear the weapon from her grasp. “For Father,” she whispered as she swung the sharp blade down.23

Red sparks flew where the two weapons collided. Kali’s eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the elf that had stopped her. “…You!” she drew back and eyed him carefully. Ten years had done little to change him and his cold, steel eyes were as clouded as she remembered. He had brought the sword and shield as expected.24

The scythe whispered to her as she slowly circled the elf, waiting for an opening. The wind curled about them; cocooning them in a frost covered ring. And Kali was certain she would be the one to walk away. “Come to me, Little Brother,” she cooed as she slowly brought the scythe down to his eye level, “It has been so long since we last talked.”25

Tylonne growled as he batted the weapon aside and raised his sword for her first strike. He could still feel the sting of disgrace from their last battle--a battle he’d lost. The hiss of souls tore past his ears and he struggled not to cover them with his hands. He couldn’t let his guard down while she still held the scythe.26

The black blade twisted through the air and slammed into his shield, knocking Tylonne back into the mountainside. Clumps of snow tumbled down as he struggled back to his feet. She was toying with him. Her laughter colored his cheeks, “Come on, Little Brother,” she cooed, “Afraid?”27

Muttering under his breath, Tylonne stood and brushed the damp snow from his shoulders. He eyed the weapon as it danced back and forth. She was most definitely toying with him. Kali knew she was the better in this game…and she had nothing stopping her from proving it.28

She brushed her blue curls out of her face and turned with disinterest back to the anvil. Her light laughter catching in the wind that unfurled her long, black cape. She paused for a moment and Tylonne looked up where the ancient anvil stood. His heart dropped with a fear he’d never known.29

Standing between Kali and the anvil was Rayne. Her short, red-brown hair whipped about in the wind and her simple, dark red and gold tunic clung to her form. Two black wings framed her as she stood, challenging Kali. Tylonne’s cry of dismay disappeared into the frost and wind and neither contender turned.30

“So…Little Sister, we meet at last,” the elf stepped closer as Rayne lifted her spear, “Must we of Lyde's Blood bicker?”31

Rayne spoke evenly, “I have no ties to Him, Kali.”32

Brushing the spear with the scythe‘s deadly blade, the elf laughs lightly, “Ah, so you do know my name! It is just as Father said. Come, let’s dance before I kill you.” Twisting the scythe upwards, Kali caught the head of Rayne’s spear and tore it out of her grip.33

The dark laughter in Kali’s eyes watched the weapon spiral into the blowing snow. She turned back to Rayne with a smile as cold as the mountain’s wind, “Thus falls the last--”34

Kali’s eyes dimmed as her smile faded from her face. She raised a hand and looked at the liquid that stained her fingertips. Staggering, she raised the scythe to the anvil. “What must be done…” she whispered hoarsely. With one violent shudder, the elf slumped forward, dropping the scythe on the anvil with a deafening crack before falling to her resting place at the foot of the ancient anvil.35

The wind whispered to a halt and new snow shimmered in the early morning sky. Rayne looked at the blade in Kali’s back for a long time. The blade shone white against the black iron of the cracked anvil. Her hand reached out and pulled it, dripping crimson on the snow-covered ground.