Dark Light Read online

  The Shinigami Tomes

  Vol. II.

  Dark Light

  By C. Wain

  -Cover images used under enhanced licence from Shutterstock.com

  Credits for cover images: Slava Gergj/Shutterstock

  -The maps were created using inkarnate.com

  -Editor: A special thanks to my editor/proofreader and all the team at scribendi.com

  -Copyright protection: Patamu.com,

  patamu registry deposit number: 92505

  © 2018 As provided by the Copyright Act

  Dedication

  This second book goes to all my readers. You have been my greatest teacher.

  Check my blog (grimdarkwain.blogspot.com) to remain updated with this series future installments (along with bonus adventure stories) and to read free dark fantasy short stories. Thank you!

  OAR - The Primordial Universe

  The New World

  Blacuir – The Shinigami World

  Renic – The Demon World

  Oserin – The Oak God’s World

  Chapter 1

  The Fruzenland – The New World

  “Ugh! I can’t take it anymore!” grunted the bearded fanatic as he threw the little she-goblin towards the cold, wet grass. The high pines stood still in their frozen graves as the Cult of the Rot members readied the encampment for the cold night ahead. They had been walking for over ten days and had just reached the Fruzenland. Tightly bound by ice-stiff ropes, there they stood, Aline and her faithful companion.

  “My lady, are you well? Let me start a little fire—”

  “No, don’t. If they see you using magic, they will beat you again. I won’t tolerate it any longer.” The sorceress smiled kindly as the young goblin immediately tried to complain in response to her mistress’ request.

  The wind blew gently amidst the still, frozen trees of the Fruzenland.

  “I can’t take it anymore. I don’t understand why the leader wants us to bring those two useless creatures with us. We should leave them here and let the wolves feast on them!” The young member of the cult sighed as he sat close to the crackling bonfire, squinting to get a better look at the two immobilised prisoners.

  “Well, if the leader says that we should bring them to the Putrid Chapel, then we ought to! It is not our place to question the leader’s choices. He is, after all, in direct contact with the Oak Gods. We are nothing but rotten beings seeking some rays of light from the divine ones. And that is all . . . all of it, young Burin. Now, light a small fire next to the prisoners. We don’t want to bring two ice blocks to the Putrid Chapel now, do we?” The reply of the elder member of the cult silenced the rebellious spirit of the young man, who set out to collect dry branches with which to light the fire.

  They spent the night in complete darkness, and when the sun rose shyly on their heads, they set out marching towards the base of their cult, the infamous Putrid Chapel. They travelled by day and rested by night wherever they could find a little protection from the unforgiving winds blowing all year long across the desolate planes of the Fruzenland.

  The journey was relatively uneventful. Whenever a member of the cult tried to get their hands on Aline, the elders staved off the assailant, pointing their bony fingers at him and accusing him of blasphemy, for the prisoners were destined to go to the Oserinians—not to filth such as them.

  Days passed, and then they saw it—the macabre building that the Cult of the Rot called home. The Putrid Chapel. Its foundation stood on a rocky hill amidst an endless sea of ice and snow. No wind blew around the old, dilapidated building, and no snow nor ice covered the red brick walls and matching roof tiles of the imposing church.

  “Here we are, at last!” Burin smiled proudly, glancing at the prisoners.

  As they walked towards the chapel, Nau whispered to Aline, “Milady, we must leave this place at once! I sense evil the likes of which I have never set eyes on. Not even in Blacuir have I felt such a macabre sensation of doom. We must not enter this building. We should break our ropes now, set our course towards the Ice Castle, and find the Saint Mage Rani!”

  “I know . . . But I can’t help feeling that there is more to this cult than meets the eye. We must learn more. I think there is a connection between this ‘Rotten Cult’ and Rani. No building could ever be built on such unforgiving land were it not for the help of someone who knew and wielded enough power to allow these powerless men to set up camp here.”

  “So, you think the Saint Mage—”

  “Shut up, you two!” barked one of the men, interrupting the worried speech of the young goblin.

  “For now, let’s wait and see,” whispered Aline. “If things go wrong, I will use my necromancer abilities and set us free.”

  “I fear, Milady, that you rely too much on your . . . Ouch!” the little she-goblin cried in pain as she was pushed against the wall of the chapel.

  As Aline tried to protest, the leader of the cult walked slowly towards the rusty entrance doors and, with a strength disproportionate to his frail, skinny body, opened the great doors single-handedly. An acute shriek resonated from the abysmal interior of the building, and then darkness crept out. Aline and Nau stared at each other in dismay as the macabre spectacle unfolded before them. There was a bloodcurdling scream and then silence.

  Chapter 2

  Midnight Meadows Arena – Blacuir

  The bloodied sand twirled and then levitated towards the sinuous vampire as she prepared her attack, adjusting her hold on her trusty dual daggers. The cheers of the ecstatic crowd filled the arena as Gali bolted towards her opponent at lightning speed.

  There, amidst the noise and sand, he stood still, in awe at the ultrasonic velocity propelling the body of the vampire towards him. If he did not have the ghoul king’s eye, it would have been impossible for him to even follow her movements.

  She is indeed true-hearted. But she won’t hesitate to kill me. She wants to win this for her and her kin. Alas, I cannot lose. For all of us . . . for Aline. These thoughts filled Kaze’s mind as he slowly unsheathed his dwarven sword. The impact of the two blades reverberated through the crowd. The clashing sounds were repeated time after time as the vampire attacked the necromancer over and over again at ferocious speed, but the attempts were always repelled by the fast and true parries of Kaze’s ghoulish right arm.

  “Gali, I do not wish you ill, but now, I will fight for real. There is no shame in forfeit—”

  “You underestimate my abilities, necromancer! ARRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!” The war cry of the beautiful vampire penetrated the arena as she jumped high in the sky and propelled herself, daggers first, towards Kaze’s body.

  “You leave me no choice! Ghoul King Mode One: Dead Space!” Kaze’s ghoulish eye vibrated slightly before the sclera around his red iris darkened.

  A sudden vacuum formed right before Gali’s face as she threw herself against the still necromancer. With a swift jump, she avoided the deadly spell. “Ah! You think you can get me with that sort of spell? I will remove that infernal eye for both our sakes!” The words of the vampire echoed in the dusty air surrounding Kaze’s body. With an elegant gesture, she unlocked her black mantle, which still undulated, following her thin silhouette like a pair of leathery bat wings. “Now, I can run!” With a smirk, she stared at Kaze’s shocked face. The cape fell soundly onto the sandy floor of the arena as the ground below it collapsed under the unfathomable weight of the mystical pitch-black cape.

  “You . . .” The words had just exited Kaze’s mouth when the vampire figure disappeared from his field of vision. Even with the ghoul king’s eye, Gali’s movements were too fast to be followed. Two daggers descended towards him, and as he promptly parried them, a figure appeared before him. A lock of undulating hair was all he could see in the split second before the unforgiving fist of the vampire impacted his abdominal wall.

  The impact was fearsome. Everything stood still. The air around him was silent. Kaze’s mouth fell wide open, as were his eyes, as Gali stood immobile with her clutched fist still in contact with its target. Then, the propulsion waves from the fist’s impact sent asymmetrical circles throughout the arena, and with crushing speed, Kaze’s body flew against its stony walls, which creaked and cracked due to the impact of the inert body of the necromancer.

  “I am sorry. Truly, I am. But I must win this!” The vampire looked at the body of her rival sadly as the arena filled with the shouts and cheers of her supporters.

  Will you truly let that thing beat you? You disgusting, sad excuse for a necromancer! The words twirled in Kaze’s mind as he opened his eyes and gasped for air as if he had been drowning in the great Northern Sea of the New World. He quickly touched his abdomen, feeling for signs of a wound.

  “I have no wounds . . . how? That strength surely . . . What devilry is this?” These terror-filled words slowly exited Kaze’s lips as he stood still, staring at his own body before him. There he lay. His internal viscera slowly exited the hole in his armour. The devilish punch of the vampire had spared no bone, no organ, and no life. “I must be dead! It is over! I have . . . I have failed!” stuttered the necromancer in a panic as he looked around him at the cheerful arena. “What . . . What am I to do? Aline . . . Aline . . . Al—” A powerful hand grabbed his terror-stricken face just when his feelings towards Aline—feelings which he had suppressed deep in his lacerated soul for a long time—pervaded his whole, shaken body.

  “You are a sad thing indeed! And to think I am a part of you! What a disgrace!” The macabre voice sank deep into Kaze’s flesh, paralysing his very body. As his we
akened bones shivered, the owner of that maleficent hand appeared out of a bright slash before him—a slash which looked as if it had torn through the very essence of space and time. The being was nothing but a mere shadow of its former self. Bodiless. A miasmatic, ethereal presence which fouled the air.

  “Who are you? Reveal yourself!” cried the confused necromancer, feeling stuck in an ever-looping reverie.

  “Oh, little red raven, you know very well who I am! I am your right arm. I am your right eye. I am your worst nightmare. And I am the reason you still live in that broken body of yours.” Hideous laughter followed the cold words uttered by the shadowy figure, as with his dark hand, he pointed at Kaze’s inert body, which lay shattered against the wall.

  The necromancer stood in silence as he witnessed his fractured ribs return to their respective places. The foul-smelling viscera retracted slowly as the layers of muscle and skin above them were sewn back together as if by the hands of the most skilful surgeons of the renowned Shinsain Hospital.

  Gali, who had, in the meantime, carelessly turned her back to the still body of the necromancer, stopped her movements as she was about to collect her enchanted cape from the dusty ground of the arena. “What in the name of the Grim Reaper is happening?” muttered the vampire as she stared at Kaze’s healing body. “This is beyond regenerative abilities . . . This is an evil power . . . beyond Blacuir . . . beyond the Shinigami. I must end you now. Vampire Blood Magic: Blood Fangs!”

  As she enunciated the ominous spell, Gali bit into her wrist. As vivid, scarlet blood flowed smoothly down her silky white skin and painted her white canines red, her eyes glowed like they never did previously. “With this spell, I will absorb your very own soul and remove it from that . . . that cursed organic container you have been calling ‘body.’” As she uttered these words, she walked slowly towards the necromancer’s inert body as it continued to regenerate, healing his wounds. But he remained unconscious.

  “I must get back into my body. Somehow, I am now in some sort of ethereal form. My soul must have detached from my body and . . . your regenerative abilities must have saved me from dying. Am I right, ghoul king?” Kaze smirked slowly as the shadow before him stepped back from him. “I am right! You are the ghoul king! Unfortunately, I cannot linger here, and I must find a way to win this fight without killing her. I must avoid using the Ghoul King Mode Two, or else—”

  “You see, that’s where we differ, Niss Necromancer,” hissed the shadowy figure. “You think that darkness is light’s keeper and saviour. You find in darkness some kind of purer and nobler purpose. Hmph . . . Darkness can only be embraced in its totality . . . its good and ugly sides. You are correct in thinking that darkness can save light, but you are mistaken if you think that you can clean an open wound with sweet, pure water. You must use painful and strong alcohol, or else parasites and the like will soon feast on the infected site.”

  They both stood immobile as Gali walked right through Kaze’s ethereal soul. He watched her carefully as she reached for his body and started leaning towards his neck.

  “I have no time for your nonsense! Help me get back into my body now! She will kill us both! I command y—”

  “You command nothing, mortal! Hmph! I think you will sit this one out, old pal. I fear mode two is not enough. We shall use Ghoul King Mode Three, for it is the only way we will teach this whore a lesson.”

  Just when Kaze tried to reply, a fierce fist struck him down. The last thing he saw was the macabre figure of the ghoul king jumping right into his body. This was followed by hysterical laughter, and then blood. Lots of blood.

  Chapter 3

  Midnight Meadows Arena – Blacuir

  “Open your eyes, Kaze, son of Ruin. Wake up, you sad excuse for a necromancer!” The dreary voice reverberated through Kaze’s mind as he slowly regained consciousness. The bright light shining from the gaps between the heavy grey clouds above his head blinded him for a few moments until his pupils adjusted to the new environment. He was surrounded by perfect silence. He slowly stood up and lay against the stone wall behind him. There they were—the spectators of the Royal Scythe Tournament. They sat immobile in their little seats with horrified looks on their pale faces. The Shinigami nobles slowly descended from their privileged marble wing of the arena and then levitated above the sandy ground of the battlefield. Their black, shredded capes undulated as they stood in silence before the necromancer.

  “What is the meaning of this?” inquired the confused mage as he stared at the three macabre gods before him.

  After a few moments of silence, the Death God who stood between the three stepped forward and slowly raised his arm, pointing his bony finger towards something above Kaze’s head.

  “What . . .” Kaze’s voice dissipated in his pharynx as droplets of thick blood dripped onto his tired eyes. He slowly turned to face the stone wall behind him, and then, raising his head, he discovered the macabre source of the fresh blood droplets.

  There she was—Gali . . . or what was left of her. Her hands were impaled together on the top area of the wall by some sort of organic material which resembled the ghoulish right arm’s original look. Her body lay lacerated, with long, deep wounds pervading her thin silhouette. Kaze stared in despair at the macabre scene before him. Everything looked as if it had been crafted out of the most hideous nightmare. But worst of all was her face . . . the face Kaze stared at. Her beautiful features, which had once radiated a sombre yet playful happiness, were now lost in an abyss of desperation and violence—violence of the most brutish and devilish kind. Someone or something had clearly been feeding on her face.

  “She is dead . . . quite dead,” uttered the caped Shinigami slowly as he walked right before Kaze’s face. The oppressive feeling of having a Shinigami standing that close to a mortal body would have made even the strongest of the silver mages pass out. But not a necromancer of the Niss bloodline.

  “What happened? Who—”

  “You did this, Kaze Niss, son of Ruin Niss, the Red Raven.” The dreary words of the Shinigami stabbed Kaze in the heart as he leaned against the wall behind him and brought his hands towards his temples, which were pulsating violently. As he closed his eyes, distorted, incoherent images flashed in his disconcerted mind; they were images of a fiendish creature immobilising the vampire and butchering her like a pig in a slaughterhouse. And then blood.

  “His majesty, King Thead, has sent the order to let you live and has retired to his royal castle south of Deadlidon. The white Minotaur has forfeited after this . . . this abhorrent display of strength. You pass to the third and final round, Kaze Niss. Or . . . that is what I am supposed to say.” The Shinigami glared vehemently at the shocked necromancer, who returned an empty stare. “Look around you. I have cast a time-freezing spell. No one will realise what is about to happen here. You must die, Kaze Niss. You are a mistake of nature. Someone must have done this to you. Tell me, was it that infamous Aras? You can tell us. No one is here. Not even your loyal Turiner is here, as he has been asked to accompany the king on his journey back to Deadlidon. He, too, looked horrified, and trust me, he rarely does, even for a Shinigami.”

  It took a few moments for Kaze to understand the words uttered by the cloaked Shinigami. He just stood there. Something in the deepest recesses of his soul ached. Gali was all he could think about.

  “So, you refuse to answer me. Hmph. Your loyalty to that outcast is commendable, but it won’t save you. Kaze Niss, my brethren here and I will end you now! It is time we send Aras a clear message. And we’ll start by killing his little pet monster for the one true king of Blacuir, Behem the Nourished.”

  The two Shinigami gently levitated to join their kin. They then unsheathed two very peculiar weapons that looked like human broadswords but were bigger—much bigger. Their pitch-black blades matched their wielders’ obscure personas perfectly as they lifted the weapons above their caped heads.