Ezthamic's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

The giant swung the rib-blade down. Ezthamic rolled clear and his forearm split into a black-and-bone sword, red veins glowing along its length. "You know my name," he shouted. "Say it." The giant only tore its roots from the floor and charged. The whole cathedral moved with him. Walls pulsed. Blood ran through carved channels. Ezthamic ducked under the next swing and drove his blade up through the thing's chest. Bone plates cracked. The giant staggered and fell, and its first body burst apart. But the pieces did not die. They folded inward and rose again, smaller and worse. Four arms now, black-red flesh, curved horns, skeletal wings scraping the ribs above. It gripped a living bone scythe in two hands and swung faster than before. Ezthamic barely turned the blow. The scythe bit his shoulder. Dark veins spread across his skin. "You still won't tell me," he said through his teeth. "Fine. Take it with you." A shriek answered from the doorway. The sky-predator swept in, charcoal wings folded tight, three red eyes burning. It had carried him across the waste, and now it dove at the four-armed thing from behind. Talons raked the skeletal wings. The demon spun to meet it. That turn was the opening Ezthamic needed. He poured everything into his left arm. The flesh blackened and swelled. Bone armor plated it. Long hooked talons stretched from his fingers, wrapped in red and purple cords. The claw felt heavier than any blade he had made. He lunged while the demon's back was turned. The winged mount bit down on the scythe arm and held it. Ezthamic drove the claw into the demon's chest and closed his fingers. He felt the heart burst in his grip. The demon dropped to its knees. Its horns scraped the floor. Ezthamic leaned close. "The name. Now." Blood ran from the thing's mouth. Its many eyes fixed on his face one last time. "Ask the world," it whispered. Then the light left its eyes and it went still. The only voice that knew his past was gone, and it had spent its last breath on a riddle. Ezthamic knelt in the silence. The winged predator landed beside him and folded its wings. Then the floor shook. A giant rib in the wall split down its length and groaned open. Cold air rushed up from a passage below. A heartbeat struck once, deeper than the cathedral's, loud enough to rattle the bones around him. THUMP. The whole land answered it. He stared into the dark stairway the rib had uncovered. Vhalgor had refused to name him. But the thing had pointed the way down before it died. Ask the world, it had said. The world was waiting beneath his feet. Ezthamic let the claw shrink back into a human hand and stepped toward the opening.