Nameless: Chp 1

Almost a hundred years before, a creature was released into the world, no one knew from whence it came, but it bled the world out onto the earth. It was trapped, not killed, for nothing but a blade forged from the strongest metal with magic from the blood of men would kill it, and no man at the time was good enough to beat it.

Only one such blade was ever made, it’s sharpness was uncanny, and the blade seemed to glow ethereally in the darkness. All nations in the continent had participated in its capture, and once that had been done, they decided to train one who would wield the blade and strike down the beast.

The sword he wields is matte, smooth only on the edge, where the red metal gleams in the dull candlelight. The door behind him closes, and his steps echo loudly as plate boots strike the hard stone ground. The room he’s in is circular, with the wooden door where he came in, and an elaborate seal and gate before him.

He raises a stone in his left gauntleted hand, and both it and the seal begin to glow. The writing on the seal shifts, multi-coloured hues sparkling across his visor, it opens and he puts the rock into a small pouch on his belt as it fades.

The tunnel beyond is dark, lit by a few torches. A natural cave, it winds in many directions and the footing itself is unsteady. He knows the story, of a group who had lured the creature through the tunnels, trapping it where a nexus dwelled. They had all died in the process, their final gift to the world being its salvation.

His left gauntlet trailed along the cave wall, tracing the gouges and scars left in the creature’s mad scramble through the tunnel. He paces himself, slowly making his way through, and emerges into the cavern.

“My, my, just as I was close to breaking my prison, who are you? Come to renew the seal, or to try and kill me? Won’t this be interesting?” A guttural voice remarks from the centre of the cave system. It was a large natural cave, almost a kilometre in diameter, stalactites and stalagmites all around, with columns further in.

In the centre of the ceiling a hole in the cave shows the light of noon, the sun shining down onto the circle holding the beast. It’s a pool in the centre of the floor, a natural nexus of magic flows from there, directed by the circle to entrap it. It’s a seal in the floor, gouged into it using tools to lengthen its lifespan. Despite this the gouges are worn, some points close to breaking down, in another month, or even a few weeks, it would be free.

He stepped forward, strapping his shield onto his left arm and picking up his sword from where he left it on the ground. His breathing became deep, and he paced toward the seal, to enter it. “Ah, so you’re here to kill me?” The creature cried, and eagerly moved forward. “I can’t leave the seal for now, but once you enter, you won’t be able to either, and I’ll finally be able to fight again.”

It was humanoid in shape, but mottled in hues of black and red, blood had been washed off it by rain over the many years. Its skin was spiked, small blades embedded into the flesh that both defended the creature and harmed its targets. It held a blade as well, though it was not well maintained, and rust covered it. Its face was somewhat similar to a human’s, yet the proportions were uncanny.

The eyes though, were disturbingly calm, even wide open, there was a stillness in them that couldn’t be understood. Its grin widened, “Seen enough?” It asked, “Are you prepared to die?” The man assumed a ready stance. A whisper came from his lips “Parin, Razin, Treamin, Lucin.” He charged the creature.

It dodged to the side, and he spun the moment he entered, taking the blow upon his shield as he crouched to maintain his balance. He skidded, and the creature charged again, wielding its blade in a two-handed grip. He deflected the blade with his shield, nipping at the creature with the blade in his right.

“Ahh, you might be worth remembering, my name is Leyvintar. What’s yours, warrior?” It spoke, a small cut present on its leg. “… Interin, Kirexin, Darin, Jacyin…” He continued from before in the time between. Leyvintar cocked his head, “What are you saying I wonder?” it then grinned a wide grin, teeth bared.

The sword was thrown in his direction, he barely had time to block the blade. The force was excessive, but he managed to maintain his footing. A strike from the side took him off guard, he grunted in surprise as he skidded across the ground. “Even so you hold onto your blade. Interesting.”

The man rolled onto his feet, aching pains in his ribs beneath the slightly dented plate. His breath hissed out in pain. “Watelin, Fequin, Neapotin.” He stopped, and straightened himself. Snarling beneath his visor as he blocked the next blow from Leyvintar, who’s claws had finally shown themselves, carving shallow gouges into his shield.

Swinging his sword in an arc, his blade was narrowly deflected by the embedded blades in Leyvintar’s flesh, but not before scoring another small cut on its arm. Leyvintar spun around him, slapping him across the floor. “Do you even know what happens after you kill me? You won’t be able to leave at all.”

He ignored him, standing back up yet again. “Parin, Razin, Treamin, Lucin.” He charged again, and they exchanged blows. “What are you saying anyway? A prayer to the gods that don’t exist? Or a mantra to keep yourself focused?”

Claws raked against his armour, his sword began to make longer cuts into his foe.

“Interin, Kirexin, Darin, Jacyin.”

The flat of his blade struck flesh, a kick from Leyvintar cracked his ribs.

“You know you won’t be leaving here alive right? This fight is futile.”

Crowing laughter, cold eyes. Breath coming deeply.

“Watelin… Fequin, Neopotin…”

So it continued, blow after blow, never ending, deflecting, dodging, charging. They met again and again, trading blows, his survival wholly resultant of endless training, constant battles. Hours passed this way.

He had discarded his shield long ago, scarred and pitted as it had become, it was only a hindrance, protection no longer. Leyvintar never tired, never needed to catch his breath, and his strength only diminished from physical wounds. They faced each other, cracked and dented armour against a thousand shallow cuts. The evening sun couldn’t shine in, and they were left in darkness.

“They trained you well.” Leyvintar acknowledged, no longer smiling, assuming a calm expression. It held up the stone the warrior had kept in the pouch by his waist. He didn’t react at all at its appearance. “The stone is a one-way trip, there isn’t any magic left in it to open the seal again. You heard it seal shut didn’t you? Surely you knew the magic in the stone had faded.”

“And by now you should also know that the barrier will not be broken after my death, you will die here, exposed to the elements. They never intended for you to leave. It’s not something I would understand, I’m not of your world after all, but power has always bred fear in your small minds, especially when multiple groups come together, balance I believe.” It tossed the stone back, and he cut it in half. “Join with me, with help I may be able to free myself in just a few more days. You don’t have to die here, surely you wish to live, if not to take revenge then surely for yourself?”

The man stared into Leyvintar’s eyes, and spoke. “Parin, Razin, Treamin, Lucin, Interin, Kirexin, Darin, Jacyin, Watelin, Fequin, Neopotin.” Leyvintar’s eyes narrowed, and he continued. “If these names meant anything to you, I would have considered it.” He steadied himself, and stepped forward.

Leyvintar snarled, slashing forward with its right claws, he gripped its wrist with his left hand, twisting and stabbing at its chest with his blade. As the blade sunk into its chest he felt the claws of the other hand graze his side, ripping parts of his skin to ribbons and wounding flesh.

“They’ll remember you at least, the demon slayer, I suppose that’s something.” Leyvintar snorted, eyes slowly defocusing and strength waning.

“No, they won’t even admit I existed.” The man whispered, eliciting a small chuckle from Leyvintar.

“You knew after all… Decapitate me, it’s swifter… death.”

He hesitated a moment, before nodding, and with one stroke, cleaved its head from its body.

As he sat down a while away from the corpse, he idly swung his sword at the barrier. It was deflected, as was his arm, to almost no effect at all to the barrier, the sword left his numb grip, bouncing onto the stone. He sighed at the sight. Clutching an amulet exposed by his broken armour, he leaned against the barrier, waiting to die.