SHE heightened her guard and leaped away from the man. He stood with a smile but far was he from gentle. Menace set about himself, and his sharp teeth did little to make Feyūnhaḥ think otherwise. His rich black hair blended into his raiment, and a foreboding power waxed within. The princess held her daggers tight, and the wolf snarled from the side.
Vrihkhaḥ was about to bite the man before he was flung straight into the ocean by some invisible force and splashed Tūmbṃār and Iḷēhaḥ. The two had not even sensed the presence of the man, and on seeing him, they rushed to Feyūnhaḥ’s side with Vrihkhaḥ in tow.
The boy was startled when he got a better look; he sensed the power within him, and quivered in excitement and fear. The maiden, however, looked to him with a fierce gaze.
“Are you the demon? Why was I not able to sense you?” asked the princess.
The man took a few steps closer, and the group took a few steps back. “Concealment is one of my specialties and I will do little to forgo obtainment of that which I seek, though dearly did I wish to speak. I would ask you to hand over the Dvhaḥṣhtro, but it seems you would much rather engage than relinquish it. And I know all of you to be well-versed in honing the elements. Very good!” said the man as he clapped. “I will not have to hold back much. Those pesky Autirsāh who seem predisposed to bothering me could hardly put up a fight, and it has bored me so! And so I say, ‘Do give me a fight that I can relish!’”
The man hovered in the air, and a dark stream of power encased him. The darkness was blacker than even the shadows of the night, and tentacle-like hairs could be seen flailing around its edges, its likeness much similar to the dark void that Athruyam had issued.
In but a few moments, the stream of power was sent flying toward all sides and a great burst of wind was sent from the center of the man. The group held their ground, and when they glanced at him, they beheld four large canines that spread both ways to his nose and chin, a crown of sharp protrusions spiraling over his head, and cascading darkness emitting from all sides of his body as if he were the abyss itself.
The night sky was dyed red, and the moon seemed to grow ever larger with the waves of the ocean becoming fierce and erratic. The man’s eyes were pitch black, and a wicked smile spread across his face. His sharp teeth gleamed under the moonlight, and his nails grew long and sharp.
And with a great reverberation that echoed in their surroundings and their minds, they heard:
I am known as ‘He that is the Spawn of the Night’, a demon that is resident to the Lower Realms and who has come seeking the Dvhaḥṣhtro! Prepare yourselves for devastation and misery, for by my hand, it shall surely come to you all!
The demon lunged forward and flew around the group, encircling them. A dome of darkness enveloped all, and one by one was each struck by a flash of lightning and raging fire that threw them with great speed far from one another.
Feyūnhaḥ crashed into the beach, Iḷēhaḥ into the grass, Tūmbṃār into some large rocks, and Vrihkhaḥ once again into the ocean. And at each place the sand, dirt, rocks, and water flew high into the air. Their clothes were singed, and they were lined with cuts. With just one set of strikes had each of them been dispersed like dust in the air.
Now it seemed the demon had calmed, looking in each direction as it stood once again on the ground. Its menacing state had now dissolved, and it held its hand to its chin, perhaps looking a little disappointed. The sky, however, remained the same with not an ounce of the demon’s power waned, and if it so chose, it could have indeed felled them then and there.
“Not even one attack could you people bear. Must you be so weak? Why does that lord who reigns in the forest send such helpless combatants before me?” It dropped its arms and approached Tūmbṃār. “Little matter now, however; no more need do I have to suffer such boredom from these one-sided battles. I shall take the Dvhaḥṣhtro and be on my way.”
As the demon reached toward the boy, Tūmbṃār’s eyes flashed with vigor. He leaped toward it swiftly and struck its face straight with his fist. His knuckles reached deep into its skull as the demon’s face caved inward from the fierce blow. And thereafter was it sent flying toward a grass patch and, on impact, burst the dirt up high.
A mass of dust encircled the area, but it did not do so randomly. It moved with regular motion and soon became a visible dome encasing the demon. Loud clapping could be heard within, and the shadow of the foe grew great upon it. It then appeared outside of the dome, hovering once more, its smile grown much wider.
With delight it faced the boy and said, “Not one of the Ṃārhaḥn I have dealt with as of late, could usher such force as to send me into flight! Brilliant, boy, I commend you for such a feat!”
It came to the ground and, looking around it toward the princess and maiden and wolf who were struggling to bring themselves up, it held its arms out and shouted to all, “Now come at me!”
The four of them ran at its call, and with fierce resolve, they attacked with swift strikes. But for each one, it was able to either block, parry, or dodge.
It was no different from cutting the air, for its footwork was as deft as its movements were graceful. And it became faster with every missed blow and strike, and the four of them, who had already encircled it, were beginning to fall slow.
The demon leaped back, and Feyūnhaḥ raced after it and attacked with uppercuts, thrusts, and a myriad of slashes. But when her side strike had missed, the demon gently held her hand and using the motion of her arm, arced it toward her back, and the dagger pierced deep inside.
She wailed in pain, and the demon looked to her with amusement. It moved the blade out and flung her toward the others.
And then it strolled about, seeming now like a reserved man, but its grin still wide. “Let’s circle it once more,” said Feyūnhaḥ with labored breath.
They nodded and did as she said, and they raced around the demon, making sure no opening was available. But it seemed odd, for the demon did not seem to resist. It instead held its arms high, and at that moment Feyūnhaḥ cried, and the four of them charged and all at once impaled it! The daggers, the sword, the staff, and the wolf’s teeth lodged themselves deep within its person. And its motions became limp almost as if it were dead.
But then suddenly, it raised its head, and a mass of darkness thrust them back. Iḷēhaḥ, Tūmbṃār, and Vrihkhaḥ looked on to see the demon healed with not a scratch, and holding Feyūnhaḥ high with one hand.
Its grip around her neck strengthened, choking her, and her screams became mixed with gargles and ragged gasps. Iḷēhaḥ and Tūmbṃār ran toward them and shouted to the demon to grab its attention. It looked to them and cocked its head.
Feyūnhaḥ had lost its interest, and so it drove her straight into the dirt, its gaze unshifted. The ground cracked under the impact, and the princess lay motionless in the small crater.
Tūmbṃār and Iḷēhaḥ were both enraged, and with the rush of a forceful gale, they flew toward the demon and locked their weapons against its long nails. They struck hard and fast and ignited their weapons with a myriad of elements. But it was to no avail.
Its defense seemed impenetrable with no amount of force or power mustered able to break it. Its gaze shifted to Iḷēhaḥ, whose face had become twisted in hate and anger, and it took a few whiffs before her as it blocked against their attacks.
“Ho! You are quite unusual. Unable am I to discern what you are! You do not seem like a Mānuzhhaḥ, but neither are you like a Daivhaḥhō. Oh!”
Before it could finish its words, the maiden issued a fiery gust and sent the demon into flames. But they were too vicious and sought even to consume the boy. He quickly evaded and put the flames out on his arms.
Iḷēhaḥ proceeded once again into combat and cared little for what was happening around her. The boy and the wolf ran to Feyūnhaḥ and saw that she was bleeding much too quickly. Though Tūmbṃār had little practice in the area, he could still close wounds.
He turned the princess over and pushing his fingers inside the gash, he alighted it with a blast of controlled fire, and the princess screamed in wake. The flames spread a good ways above and below, and her back became sorely burnt by the time Tūmbṃār had dispelled them.
It was a botched job, but he could only hope that she would heal. Her eyes were half-raised, and she would have looked lifeless were she not sweating. She brought herself up as she bit her lip and shut her eyes tight.
She then opened them half-way once more and looked afar. The maiden leaped and cried as she tried furiously to land a strike on her foe. And it either blocked or evaded each of her strikes.
It seemed like it was telling her something, and every flap of its lips enraged the maiden further, and the pace of her attacks grew so quick that it now seemed inhuman.
Her powers ran rampant and were bursting here and there as she lost control of them. And her Dvı̄sahlvah grew brighter and brighter. Were it to keep continuing; it would surely burst and issue a blast great enough to consume a vast expanse from there. The same blast of whose likeness Iḷēhaḥ had warned about, that Athruyam feared would occur in his battle with Tūmbṃār, and that if issued would consume the user and perhaps all of them.
“Tūmbṃār!” Feyūnhaḥ called. “Run to Iḷēhaḥ, fast! She doesn’t see what’s about to occur – stop her before she kills us all!”
She pushed the boy forward, and he ran to Vrihkhaḥ, and the two of them raced to the area of conflict. She then fell to the ground.
Flames, rock, and mist clashed around the maiden and demon and forceful gales issued from her Dvı̄sahlvah. The gales roared with vigor and gave Tūmbṃār and Vrihkhaḥ much difficulty in crossing.
They were running about searching for an opening, trying to keep pace with Iḷēhaḥ and the demon. Their attacks waxed with every strike, and Tūmbṃār could see that Iḷēhaḥ began to grow weary as her weapon shone ever more brightly. And the demon seemed ecstatic over this development and gave the boy and wolf little chance to interfere.
It cycled its attacks with greater force and power, and the maiden cried loud as her anger overcame her senses. The light of the crystal shone so brightly that the boy had to avert his gaze. The demon did not falter at this display even as the light burned him; it seemed much enamored by it.
The boy used this chance to leap from the wolf and run through the stream of vicious winds and excited flames as they cut and burned him from all sides. He brought himself closer and closer toward the maiden, following the sound of her cry.
And when he was through the vortex and was near to them, he concentrated his powers into both of his hands and with a great shout, issued a stream of dark mass that struck the demon and forced it away from them. The demon was unable to free itself from the binding of the dark energy and was rendered immobile.
Iḷēhaḥ immediately sought to pursue her adversary, but Tūmbṃār grasped her tight and would not let go. She turned to him with a flash of anger and did all she could to pull herself free.
“Let me go, you insolent child! Let me be done with this demon! I shall not let him be anymore! It must die, and I shall have no other fell it!”
“I won’t!” cried the boy. “Hit me all you like, but I shan’t let you fight anymore! The light from your Dvı̄sahlvah shines too bright, brighter than the sun and even the Heavens! If you keep at this, it’ll surely burst and kill us all! Didn’t you warn me about this? Why do you hate the Demons so much?”
“Why you ask? Because if not for them, I would surely not be here, but even more would I not have to stand the sight of that which has brought me great distress! The existence and supposed ‘plight’ of which is a very mockery to my kin! I shall go so far as to extinguish my light to subdue its darkness, and no more shall it vex or enrage me, not even in death!”
But the boy cried, “I shan’t let you or any other die! Not even the demon!”
And those words made the demon’s eyes grow wide, and a gentle smile appeared over its face.
But the maiden’s wrath blazed like an inferno, for the boy’s words had only enraged her further, and she put her hands out and cycled the air quickly about her. She lightly hovered, but panted.
Tūmbṃār lost his grip, and as soon as he fell, a blast of wind shot him far off and Vrihkhaḥ ran to the boy and halted his flight.
Using this chance, Iḷēhaḥ sped toward the immobilized demon that had not a sign of worry and forced it to the ground. She lifted her staff high above; the Dvı̄sahlvah shined bright, and she pierced the demon straight into its mouth.
The light outshone the darkness within, but the demon cackled. Iḷēhaḥ forced it further down and in moments, the Dvı̄sahlvah burst, sending a great beam surging to the sky. It broke the clouds and seemed to pierce the very stars themselves. But then it thinned and vanished all too quickly with no cataclysm ensuing.
Tūmbṃār and Feyūnhaḥ were shocked and while they no more had to fear the destruction from the Dvı̄sahlvah, they had little in the way of relief. The demon broke through its bindings and knocked back the maiden whose anger had now turned to fear.
And then it elongated its nails and—waxing them with the dark power—it rushed to Tūmbṃār and attacked with swift strikes that he could barely parry. The demon did not seem to be putting in much effort, seeming rather calm about all this. And then its movements suddenly slowed, and Tūmbṃār taking his chance ignited his blade with myriad elements and pierced the demon through the shoulder.
The demon’s face contorted in horror and it shrieked a wail so sharp that it made all their ears ring with a thousand echoes. Feyūnhaḥ, unable to bear it, screamed in likeness and writhed in pain. Then the wailing stopped and its head dropped. Tūmbṃār was dazed, but assayed to see if the demon was still alive. Its face all of a sudden, lifted, and the smile came back again.
The arm morphed and wriggled until it became a mass of grotesque blackness and protrusions. “Ah! it seems you have hurt me quite a bit, child! So much so, that now this dark power I held in all this time, wishes to come forth. This battle indeed is a good one! The lord has chosen well.” It then swiped that mass of an arm at the boy and sent him flying back, the demon following after him.
Iḷēhaḥ could do naught but look on, quivering with fright and unable to move. And Vrihkhaḥ could not so much as find an opening to strike and whimpered at his inability.
Tūmbṃār spun back to evade the demon. His foe’s strikes had such force behind it so as to crater the earth, sending the sand and dirt ejecting high and far across. Its power was unlike anything it had shown before; perhaps it really was playing with them.
The slashes and elements sent its way did nothing, and the dark power Tūmbṃār issued while protecting himself did little but slow down the demon’s movements. He had to strengthen his strikes, and so he encased his blade with a great amount of the dark power, its edges shining with the ever slight traces of light.
When the demon was in striking range, itself readying to plunge the grotesque arm into the boy, Tūmbṃār held his sword beside his head. With the blade facing straight toward his target, he burst the ground under him and sailed through the air. And not a moment after, he struck low against the black arm, issuing a stream of molten earth that steamed the cut and effused the air with a noxious odor. And with another burst below, he spun himself around, slashing it along the way, and flew through the other side. The arm melted at the seam and severed from the shoulder, and it fell to the ground, limp. And Tūmbṃār skidded to a halt on the other side, waiting for his enemy’s next move.
It turned around. Then it looked down at the arm and back to its shoulder, and nodded its head in approval. “Very, very good, child!” It stepped forth as Tūmbṃār stepped back, and said, “I wonder how you should like having your shoulder pierced!” and its bloodlust heightened.
The boy stepped back further, now quivering. Suddenly, the demon flew toward him and its nails seemed to grow even longer than before. Its teeth and mouth salivated and it readied itself to pierce him clean through.
And then Iḷēhaḥ rushed in front with arms spread wide, holding the dead staff. The nails dug deep through her shoulder, and she wailed. The demon was quite surprised over this, and almost looked distraught.
“What be the meaning of this?” it hissed. “You coward of a maiden, you seek to protect this boy now when you had assailed him before?”
“I will not let him fall!” she shouted, but was still quivering. “But you assailer, you will! And I shall make sure of that, even if it should cost me my very life!”
The demon then burst into laughter, and retreating his nails, it jumped back. “Well said, maiden! Well said! But I should wonder what you will do next. There is still much for me to show, after all.”
Before Tūmbṃār could call to it to cease the battle, the demon rose high above and the black arm that had fallen lifted beside it and reattached itself to its shoulder. Its mouth and face grew larger and broader, and its figure loomed over them. Its form coalesced into the darkness that encircled it, and out from it appeared a wicked form of sharp teeth and protrusions along its jaw, covering all about in dark gnarled armor and a cape of darkness. It stood like a giant before them, and the weight behind its presence forced the group toward the ground, unable to lift their faces in the way of the demon.
Long have I wished to fight as such, and tempted I was at the sight of that light. Now my powers are released, uncaged, and with it before you, I have brought forth my grotesque form! Behold this darkness that pervades me, wrought by my kin in the depths of the Hells, to once again be used to usher in an age for our people upon this planet! The aether that binds our world shall be your unmaking; let that light that burns within you be snuffed out by this darkness!
