IABD 69 (Nice): Light and Shadow

“Answer…quickly intruders!” the ghoul knight hissed again. 

Ghouls poured through the tunnels surrounding them, dead eyes glinting in the torchlight. 

“What are you talking about?” Bregindoure demanded, keeping his distance. 

“The barred chamber…in the high tower…” Another ghoul knight raised its two-handed axe threateningly. Prismatic vapour poured from the weapon, glimmering in the flickering light. “You entered that room, now you will tell us how…” 

“Why do you want to know? And why should we answer a walking corpse’s questions?” Dagma bristled. 

“You will answer or die…your choices are few.” The first ghoul knight hissed, the limbs of its bow creaking. The string had been drawn back, tense and at the ready, held in place by an untiring limb. Prismatic vapour boiled off the arrow. 

The vapour seemed to tense, seeming to prepare to engulf them. 

Matthias’ focus was firmly on that vapour; as it called his attention to it. 

His shadow-tendril flexed. 

“Why would you want to enter that room?” he demanded. “This “One below” is the source of the curse on this abbey, isn’t it?” 

“We will not squander precious words on you...answer now or die!” the axe-wielding ghoul knight snarled. 

The horde of undead hissed, slowly advancing from all sides. 

“I would stay where you are, if I were you,” Matthias warned. “The warrior and mage are nearby. You know that they’ve destroyed hordes of you with little thought, so if you don’t retreat, they will do the same to you the instant you release that arrow.” 

“We know where they are…” The ghoul knight archer aimed at Matthias’ head. “But you will be dead before they can save you. Even…if only one of you dies, it makes little difference, your weakness is you value each other’s lives. Now speak! We will not ask again!” 

All three Stonebreakers bristled. 

Matthias’ eyes were like flint as he watched the ghoul. “We have no interest in helping you. I will answer your threat with this promise: tell us what the thing below is, or we will kill you.” 

The axe wielding ghoul exhaled, a noise that sounded like steam escaping. “The one below watches you and knows that you are weak and are little danger to us. Others, much better than you...have tried. The one below sees all and hears all, even the endless weeping in the room that was barred. We see all. We will have the answers we seek when you become as we are.” 

A question struck Matthias. “So, you also hear the weeping?” he asked. 

Bregindoure smirked. “Fool, now we know that this thing below us rules you and wants to get its grubby hands on whatever it is that was weeping. So, here we are, we have learned something, yet you have learned nothing!” 

“We will learn what we need to when you become ghouls!” the bow-wielding ghoul knight threatened. 

The axe wielder raised his weapon. Prismatic mist boiled from it. “Take them!” He commanded the horde. “Tear them—” 

There was a flash of red. 

Bregindoure channeled the Rune of Sprinting, charging the axe-wielding ghoul mid-sentence. The undead monster reacted with reflexes as swift as lightning, narrowly escaping as the giant Rune-marked hit the stone where he once was. 

Both axe wielders turned to face each other, roaring battle cries then attacking, turning the space into a storm of violence. 

The other ghouls surged at the siblings from all sides. 

Dagma called to her dagger. 

Bregindoure and the axe-wielder clashed. 

From the direction behind the three siblings, there came no outcry from Beggahasta or Polla; they had decided not to interfere, at least, for now. 

Matthias’ focus was not on them at that moment. 

His attention was fixed on the ghoul knight archer and its taut bowstring, the curving bow limbs, the arrow nocked on the bowstring, and the prismatic smoke rising from it. 

His eyes shifted from the undead bowman to his own weapons, laying about him with sword and hammer, smashing any ghoul that came too near himself or his sister. The steel blade severed necks. The hammer crushed skulls. 

His movements were blurred, his strikes precise and targeted. 

Ghouls quickly piled up around him. 

Beside him, his sister hounded the undead, sword blurring, slashing through limbs, splitting torsos; then at her command her dagger flew from its sheath—spinning through the air—keeping ghouls from closing on her. 

Bregindoure and the axe wielding ghoul dueled, trading and dodging blows in an explosion of violence and prismatic smoke. When his axe struck, the noise was like a tree trunk landing on a rocky path. His great strength swung the weapon at terrible speed, and he closed on the ghoul with shield held high. 

The ghoul knight held his own; its eye carving never leaving the giant, seeming to predict his every move, reacting with well-timed counters and graceful dodges. 

Each time his axe collided with Bregindoure’s shield, colours split in the prismatic smoke, stinging the giant’s eyes, piercing his sides like small knives. He clenched his teeth, snarling with pain as red stained his gambeson. 

There came a sharp creaking of wood. 

The archer pulled the bowstring tauter, tensing then relaxing like a living archer would before releasing an arrow. 

Matthias chopped through a pair of ghouls, whirling around to face the archer. The ghoul’s eye symbol fixed on the young greatfolk, a broad smile spreading across cracked lips. 

The arrow was flaring with kaleidoscopic radiance, smoke billowing from it as the bowstring was released.  

The arrow streaked forward, sparking blinding colour, racing straight for Matthias’ forehead.  

The young greatfolk swung his hammer, batting the arrow, hammerhead striking the shaft. 

Wood shattered. 

Colours exploded from the splintered arrow in blades of prismatic light which kept racing for Matthias’ head. 

On instinct, he whipped the tendril up, still holding the blazing torch, bracing for agony. 

The light hit the shadow-tentacle, tearing into the shadow; and once again, light and darkness bent, warping and twisting around each other. 

A sudden wave of pain flared through his body; leaving him feeling like he’d fallen into blacksmith’s fire. 

Concentrating and forcing himself to control the pain, his mind focused his intent on defending him and his sister. The stinging after-image of light faded as he fought the pain, chopping through ghouls coming at them from all sides. 

Dagma positioned herself near him, sword and dagger slashing any ghouls trying to swarm her brother. 

Matthias planted his feet, swinging his sword in a wide arc, cutting down their undead enemies. His mind moved from the battle around them to thoughts of how light and shadow bent and twisted around each other.  

The ghoul archer snarled, nocking another arrow, releasing a shrill cry and letting the arrow fly. 

A prism of refracted colour raced for Matthias. 

The missile found its mark, sending white-hot pain searing through his tendril. An array of colours radiated from the arrow, washing over the tentacle and tearing at it like ants eagerly ripping a beetle to pieces. The tendril warped, twisted, its movements frenzied, as though it was fighting to keep from being torn from his shadow. 

He gritted back a howl of agony, forcing himself to keep battling; his soul pounded, keeping time with his heartbeat hammering in his ears. 

All the while, his thoughts kept returning to the colours, light, and shadow bending around each other. 

The radiance was warping and flexing, twisting like columns of smoke, though not disintegrating in any way. 

His shadow-tendril was also warping, twisting and flexing in the same way. 

But unlike the light, the tendril was being harmed; it felt like one of his limbs was being twisted and ripped from its joint. 

Why was it bothering him so much? 

There was something about that that felt…wrong. Like it shouldn’t be. 

A ghoul’s claws slipped through his guard, scraping his chainmail, snapping him back to reality. 

He kept fighting through his pain and cleaved the ghoul in two. 

A cluster of ghouls was now surrounding him and Dagma, the pain was slowing him. Bregindoure was bleeding from small cuts covering his forearms, while the axe wielder continued hacking pieces from his shield. The creature’s eye-mark was fixed on Bregindoure, and the giant could not touch him. 

Dagma was fighting hard beside Matthias, cutting down ghouls while staying close by his side. 

If things didn’t turn soon, they’d have to call on Polla and their mother for help. 

Matthias did not want that; and he was sure neither did his sister and brother. 

He wanted them to beat these ghouls on their own. 

He was a warrior. 

And he wouldn’t let these shambling corpses make him ask to be rescued. 

But although their situation was looking dire, his mind kept drifting to that light coming from ghoul’s weapon, and his tentacle’s shadow; while he should have been closing on the ghoul archer, he couldn’t pull his thoughts away from the struggle between light and shadow. 

Light bending and tearing shadow apart. 

Trying to banish it. 

Warping it. 

Twisting it while the light itself remained free of harm. 

Those kaleidoscopic lights mingled with the illumination from the Gift-empowered torch, flickering across ghoul faces, causing their shadows to ripple in a dance of light…and dark. 

A thought suddenly struck him like the very thunderbolt that skewered his soul to Awaken him. 

Light and shadow were opposites, just as life and death were opposites, just as the dreaming and waking world were opposites. 

Shadow was darkness; it was the spaces between the light of the stars. 

It was the black moon. 

It was the blackness beneath the earth, and the shadows beneath the trees. 

What happened to shadows when the sun sped through the sky? They turned; they pivoted…but they weren’t destroyed. Shifting light did not harm shadow. Light could pour through any crevice, slip through any hole, and fill any space. 

It was as flexible as water…no, it was more flexible than water. 

And if the shadow changed, shifting as light did…would the shadow not be just as flexible? 

So then, why did it hurt when his tendril warped? 

No…that wasn’t the correct way to think about it. 

Why was he allowing himself to be hurt when the tendril warped? He had been thinking of it like a limb—like a thing of flesh and bone, something that could be turned and twisted and broken—but it was just as malleable as light and dark. 

And if he could bend and shape the energies he took in from Soul Breathing? 

He could shape the energies of his shadow as well. 

Matthias’ vision shifted, and he found himself in the green field within his soul with the power stones belonging to his two Towers, they were glowing. 

Spreading. 

More of the soil sitting under his Towers had turned to solid rock, completing more of his foundation. Strength flowed through him: at this point, more than half of his foundation was complete. 

His consciousness shifted back to the reality of the tunnel he was in. 

Matthias’ body felt powerful. 

He looked down at the tentacle and felt the pain. “No,” was all he said. 

The pain abruptly stopped, vanishing as though it had never been. 

As the radiance shifted, his shadow-tendril shifted as well, now under its own strength. It was no longer being warped by outside forces. 

The tendril rippled as he laid into the tide of ghouls. 

“Dagma!” he shouted. “Make the torch fly!” 

“Fly!” she commanded without a second thought. 

The torch soared from the tentacle’s grip. 

His tentacle was free. 

He concentrated on it. ‘Remember, its shape can change. Like water. Like light. Like shadow.’ 

The tentacle rippled once again and the end snapped like jaws, lengthening, flattening, then curving… 

…like a scythe blade. 

He whipped the tendril toward the prismatic radiance and split the kaleidoscopic light in two. 

The ghoul archer, who’d been relishing the sight of him struggling, froze. 

Matthias could feel the hungry gaze from its eye symbol waver, as though its master were recoiling.  

He charged, “Send the torch at its face, Dagma!” 

She commanded the torch to fly. 

It streaked through the tunnel like a comet, and then… 

“Flare!” she said. 

The fire blazed brighter and the ghoul archer flinched away, flame striking him blind for a moment. 

That moment would make up the entirety of the rest of his unlife. 

Matthias lashed the long shadow-tendril at the monster, the scythe-blade of darkness whipping downward. The curving blade cut deep into the top of the monster’s skull, splitting its head apart, granting it its final rest. 

The ghoul knight screeched, dropping to the ground in a twitching heap. 

“Now!” Matthias called. “Let’s get the other one, Dagma!” 

At first, the axe-wielding ghoul muttered something in a language they could not understand, no doubt swearing with displeasure. 

 “Retreat!” it suddenly ordered as clear as day. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Bregindoure snapped. 

His axe swung at the ghoul again, but the undead knight skittered from reach, ordering the tide of ghouls forward. They swarmed the giant, as he roared his displeasure. 

Bregindoure looked ready to call on the Rune of Sprinting but pointed at the axe wielder instead. “I will get you yet, walking corpse!”  

He turned and strode beside Matthias and Dagma, helping them finish the last of the ghouls around them. Most of the monsters died, others retreated, fleeing for the tunnels. 

“Is everyone alright?” Beggahasta emerged from the passageway behind them, Polla was beside her. “By the Ascended…what happened to your tendril?” 

“I think I just had my second enlightenment,” Matthias informed her. 

“Then we should leave, go above ground,” Polla said, her eyes shining with interest. “There is obviously...much to discuss.” 

Matthias wasn’t sure if she was being affected by the light from the torch or what, but as the mage stared at the scythe blade on the tip of his tentacle…it seemed she had grown pale. 

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Author's Note

Shadow scythes are cool, and have been ever since I played Darksiders 2 on the PS3.

Had a lot of fun with this chapter as we delve deeper, haha.

Also, I think when this book comes out as a book on Amazon I might fuse this chapter together with last chapter. Feels like they're part of the same thought.

Also also DOOM IS INCREDIBLE.

Cya Friday folks!