Hex Immortal: Revolution’s Wings (Book 1 X Part 1)

PROLOGUE: A TEAR IN THE VEIL

PROLOGUE: A TEAR IN THE VEIL

Year of our Lord: Eighteen eighty-four

Season: Spring

Month: May

Day: Tuesday

Date: Sixth

Time: 10:33 A.M.

Country: Omod

 

The country seemed to retard the speed of time to that of an individual moving through wreckage. Ample thick swamps and forests were scattered within its borders. Peppered among these were rural areas and cities. Travelers from one area to another were astonished by the changes of scenery.

However, they could put thoughts of shortness of breath to rest. The air was like thick snow in winter. And the lower elevation saw to that thickness.

The nation also received great praise for its beef. Some people even considered it to be the finest in the world.

As for the nation’s citizens, outsiders tended to think they were slothful. Everything they did just felt like a prelude to something else. Whenever something did happen, it was almost like the Second Coming. The citizens, however, scoffed at this notion. They insisted they took their time because they viewed life as a song wherein they savored every note. Patience was one of their most prized virtues.

Not everybody adhered to that philosophy though. A group of men had torn through the country like a hurricane. Their goal had been to make it to a certain city and take up residency in it. Its newer origin had intrigued them greatly. Along the way they had acquired more supplies and men. However, the terrain had busted their chain of swiftness into a few segments. They had marveled at its might, but nonetheless stayed the course. Eventually their goal had come to rest in their hands.

Without hesitation they had started to assimilate. The city had done everything in its power to assist them. In the end, it wasn’t very burdensome for them. They worked and relaxed just as the others did. The city found much joy in its newcomers. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship.

Eventually the day came when the group of men decided to set the wheels of their real goal into motion. It turned out the last couple of months they’d also conducted some secret business. They’d recruited more men, obtained more supplies, gathered intelligence, and drawn up various plans.

The group of men broke into two factions. One was headed by their leader, Contanis. The other was led by his second in command, Kotlor. They struck the city in the dead of night like two vials of the same toxin. Contanis’s faction rounded up the government officials and their security personnel, while Kotlor’s group did the same with the police.

Afterward, they tied them all to stakes and planted them around the city. Next they set them all and the police station ablaze. Amid the burning flesh and howling, these torches acted as a beacon to the city. It signaled the dusk of an age: the age of innocence. And with that, it signaled the dawn of another: the age of mastery by man over nature.

The next morning, Contanis staffed the government with his own people. The police department succumbed to the same fate as well. Contanis placed Kotlor in the number two position of this new empire. The helm was reserved for Contanis himself.

The regime’s first order of business was to deter residents from fleeing the city. This was done with a declaration: anybody who tried would be punished. And it would be as severe as what the others faced the night before. If a person did escape, however, somebody else would be punished in their place. A family member or friend would be chosen.

Their next order of business was to confiscate all their subjects’ weapons. This would ensure their stranglehold on the city would remain unthreatened. The weapons were destroyed or kept by members of Contanis’s group. However, their subjects were allowed to have tools for work. Their next order was for the townspeople to clean up the prior night’s mess.

Religion was soon outlawed as well. The government found blasphemous the idea of people believing in anything above it. Its members saw themselves as gods with Contanis as their king. This was also obvious to their subjects. There was no reason to think otherwise.

Another policy was a levy of high taxes on the people. The new government believed most of the money they earned belonged to their new rulers. These increased taxes fueled all sorts of despicable endeavors. Then there were the food quotas. Members of the government came at specified times to collect amounts of certain foods. Their subjects were on the brink of starvation. Anybody who broke any of these rules paid dearly. The reason was irrelevant.

A year later, their subjects’ tolerance fizzled out. They spent the next couple of weeks planning a revolution. As soon as they were done, they staged their coup d’état against their tormentors. They engaged them with tools and weapons they’d hidden. The attack was short-lived yet brutal, with heavy casualties on both sides. But the government stood victorious at the end. The rulers also had captured some of the attackers. They arrested all those who had any involvement at all with the revolution. These two groups weren’t spared death either.

Sometime later, their subjects named that day “The Day of the Great Contention.” Every year on the anniversary, they’d honor those who perished trying to restore liberty to the city. The day had to be observed in covertness though, because Contanis banned anything that defied his régime. The city’s residents wished to one day construct a memorial for those involved, but that also would have to wait.

1: A JOURNEY IN THE KEY OF DEATH

1: A JOURNEY IN THE KEY OF DEATH

Year of our Lord: Eighteen ninety

Season: Spring

Month: May

Day: Monday

Date: Fifth

Time: 6:57 P.M.

Country: Omod

 

To the uninitiated, the silent hum of something deeper was masked by footsteps. Its source was six figures marching side by side on a decrepit dirt road. Their black cloaks swayed gently in the air. Draped over the top half of their faces were black hoods attached to their garments. On each side of them, mighty oak trees gave them their undying attention. The oaken woods were playgrounds for one’s imagination as to what might lurk within.

The individuals glanced at the sky together like they all shared one consciousness. The sun had begun to retreat as it bestowed its bounty of light upon the world. A few clouds also quietly watched them with an almost obsessive interest. This paired majestically with the whisper of a stream they heard from the forest.

Soon one of the travelers noticed something on the side of the road. The figure stopped to study that something while the others kept moving. The individual whistled for them to come over. The object of interest was a tree that was home to a crudely done carving, which read: “In nature there are predators…and there is prey.”

They scrunched their eyebrows slightly as they glanced at each other. They looked for more carvings in the area, but that was a fruitless endeavor. In the end they concluded it was just a product of boredom, and they continued on their way.

It wasn’t long before a stout rugged man appeared from the side of the woods like an apparition. His tattered clothes clung to him gracefully as he walked onto the road. He turned to face them with an unsettling twinkle in his eyes. This was the extent of what the travelers could gather from him.

“Greetings wayfarers,” said the man as he clapped his hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you took a gander at my message. As you may already know, predators and prey can come in many forms. In this case you’re the latter category.”

He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at them.

“I know this because I’m your predator,” he said. “Oh, excuse me, I mean one of your predators.”

He snapped his fingers. Immediately seven more men emerged from the woods like phantoms. They were all different shapes and sizes but looked like rejects from the nethermost pits of Hell. They complemented, rather well, the man who addressed the travelers. Grimaces lined their faces as they made their way onto the road. They unsheathed their swords robustly.

“I’d like to introduce you all to my men,” he said. “We’ve been together for about two years now. During this time, the ‘industry’ has been very good to us. We’ve robbed and slain our fair share of people.”

The only thing that dripped from the travelers’ mouths was silence. They just stared at their ambushers as if the latter were paintings in an ominous mansion.

“What?” said the leader. “Don’t you have anything to say? Your lives are about to be extinguished.”

Their response mirrored the last one.

“Are you six mute,” he asked as his eye began to twitch, “or are you just being stubborn?”

Still the wall of quietness fell upon him.

“Whatever,” he said as he flicked his wrist at them. “The reason is irrelevant. In case you don’t know this, dead men forever remain silent.”

A breeze blew past the travelers, causing their cloaks to flutter. Dust and dirt were also lifted off the ground. One of the hooded figures performed some hand gestures as it silently mouthed a few words. As for the highwaymen, they just watched with wonder. Soon everyone heard crackling.

The robbers jolted their heads around with their eyes and mouths wide open. Eventually their leader stumbled upon the source. It turned out to be the tree he’d carved his message in. He let the others know and they all watched in horror. They heard the noise, and they saw shavings of wood burst off the tree. A short time later, the spectacle ceased.

“Was that…?” said the leader.

“I’ve no idea,” said another as he shook his head from side to side.

The leader turned his attention back to the travelers. He told them regardless of what had just happened, he was pleased they had finally responded. It was also flattering they’d followed in his footsteps by carving into the tree. Then he expressed his interest in their reply.

He started to stroll over to the tree and gestured for his men to meet him there. When they all reached it, they took turns looking at the carving. Anybody not engaged in this was keeping an eye on the travelers. The carving read: “In nature there are predators…and there is prey. Right now, you can either fuck off or we can fuck you up. Pick one. Sincerely, \m/ Hex Immortal \m/.”

The thieves shared a hearty laugh. A few seconds later their leader addressed the travelers again. He said it was foolish to think they could stop them. They should just accept their fate. After all, the attackers would make it as quick and painless as possible. He couldn’t stress enough it was their best option.

The highwaymen positioned themselves side by side. Their leader, however, took his place at the front. They all faced the travelers. He then asked his men if they were ready to send their victims to the grave. In a sinister holler they responded they were.

Meanwhile, the travelers just gazed at them blankly. One of them did gulp, however, when the muggers’ leader pulled out a gray stone from his pants pocket. He held it up to the travelers as he said, “Here’s the plan.” Then he explained it with a rosy tone. When he finished, he asked them if they understood. They all nodded without hesitation. As for the robbers, they assumed their fighting stances. The embers in their eyes began to flare.

“Good,” said the leader. “I also must commend you all for coming to your senses. Your nonchalant attitude is inspiring. Are you ready? Your demises begin…”

At this moment, he hurled the stone straight up into the air.

Everyone attached their eyes to it like parasites to a host. Time appeared to plod along. It was moments like this when an individual became truly aware of his or her own mortality. After a few moments, the stone started to descend. Eventually it hit the ground with a small thud. Then it bounced around for a while before stillness recaptured it. The robbers looked at one another in a void of silence.

“…now!” he said.

And on that note, the normal rate of time was ushered back into their world. It was a shame though, because they’d all grown to appreciate the rawness of its sluggish variant.

In unison the robbers bolted toward the travelers. However, the latter just stood their ground. A few moments later, they began to draw their swords. The bandits still came at them like beasts from the abyss. Soon the travelers held their katanas in their uncovered hands. Yet their stances were not defensive. The leader of the highwaymen closed in on one of them.

“It’s too late for you six,” he said. “The game has come to its rightful end.”

When he got within reach, he swung his sword horizontally through the traveler’s neck. The figure still stood with no wound to speak of. The leader’s eyes widened as he turned pale. All he was able to do was mutter an obscenity. Then he lowered his weapon.

The others reached their opponents and attacked in a similar fashion. It wasn’t long before they also stopped with dumbfounded looks on their faces. Their attacks had no effects on them either.

Their minds started to spin around like wheels on a cart. They were rendered speechless. Even blinking was out of their grasp. Moments later they saw the travelers begin to flicker like candles in the wind. Soon they vanished into the darkened day.

“We’ve been set up,” said one of the thieves.

Their leader lost himself in his thoughts.

“This looks like the handiwork of a mage,” he said as he shifted his eyes back and forth.

The robbers’ swords began to shake as they took a few steps back. Soon their swords became as still as the stone again. They didn’t want to show their adversaries fear. Giving them that kind of satisfaction was unthinkable. Even though they’d dealt with magic users in the past, those confrontations had always filled them with dread. They knew all too well the dangers that affixed themselves to individuals such as that.

Sweat started to drip down their faces as they shot glances around at their surroundings. Their grips on the hilts of their weapons tightened. Anticipation weighed down on them like the roof on pillars of a long-lost temple. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. It was almost as if the travelers had just been figments of their imaginations. They waited a little longer, but still nothing came to pass.

“Maybe this is just a ruse,” said one of the bandits.

“Yeah,” said another. “If they were going to attack us, they would have done it by now.”

Their leader soon bought into this idea. He ordered everybody to sheathe their swords and return to the woods. Sooner or later more prey would come by for them to feast upon. The men put their weapons away and started their trip back.

Suddenly, a figure leaped from a tree like an inky simian on the side of the road. Once it landed, it somersaulted up to one of the robbers. The criminal began to draw his sword as he felt a long blade penetrate his chest. It ripped through his heart and exited his back. He trembled for a few seconds as blood ran out of his mouth and wounds.

His assailant’s stature fell a bit short of his, so he had to look down to see the attacker’s face. Figuratively, its presence towered above him undoubtedly though. It was dressed in the same manner as the false travelers. A revelation then struck him just ahead of death. The figure pushed the departed off its katana with its foot. The body fell to the ground, where it continued to bleed out.

The other robbers stepped back as a chill shot up their spines. They couldn’t believe someone had gotten the drop on them. Then they saw the figure point its blood-soaked katana at another one of their teammates. He swiped it to eject the blood. The chills in their spines turned into iciness.

The figure stepped on the fallen man as it took a few steps forward. Yet its face was void of any expression.

“Only one of ours fell,” said the robbers’ leader. “There’s still seven of us. We can win. Stand your ground.”

Two more people darted out of the woods from the left while three more did so from the right. Their apparel matched that of the first figure. The muggers drew their swords as they formed a circle around the travelers. This was right where they wanted them: a kill zone.

“I want their bodies unrecognizable,” said the leader of the highwaymen. “Attack!”

They all flew at the figures like bullets from a firearm.

One of them swung his sword down at one of the travelers. His target, though, blocked his attack with a horizontal slash. They kept their weapons locked as they pushed on each other’s. The eyes of each channeled the will to complete their respective missions. Then the traveler head-butted the mugger right in his nose with a robust crack.

He shrieked as he stumbled backward with blood gushing from it. A few moments later, the traveler thrust his sword through his opponent’s neck. The blade advanced all the way to his spine, where it severed the bones. He withdrew the weapon, and the body fell onto the ground on its side like a filthy hunk of meat. Blood spewed from the wound vigorously. Honor, courage, and commitment had once again proven their worth as a guide for the traveler.

During this altercation, another one of the travelers engaged another robber. Both parties’ adrenaline rose like a river in a storm with each passing second. This translated into harder and quicker attacks. Their lives were on the blood-red line, and they both knew it.

The bandit slashed horizontally at the figure, but it ducked under the blade. This was certainly an achievement considering its stature. The traveler then sweep-kicked him. He fell to the ground on his stomach with a thud. As he climbed onto his knees, the traveler slammed the bottom of his sheath into the back of his neck. With a snap he fell back onto the ground like a sack of dirt.

Another mugger tripped over his body and fell onto the road face down. His sword flew out of his hands and landed on the road near him. As he reached for it, another sword shot through his neck and into the ground. The traveler responsible for this wrenched it out. A pool of blood soon formed under the corpse.

The leader of the bandits looked around at the figures. He finally admitted to himself he’d underestimated them. He looked around at his men. The ones who were still alive panted heavily as their movements slowed. Their faces suggested morale was near death. His newfound sense of humbleness was soon dulled by pride.

“Don’t falter!” he said. “We can defeat them!”

Somebody crashed into his back from out of nowhere. They both tumbled to the ground onto their sides. The leader laid his eyes upon his opponent as he readied his sword. All he saw, though, was the lifeless body of one of his men. A cavity straight through the head confirmed his death. The leader shifted his gaze to the traveler who stood nearby. He assumed it was the culprit. Then he cursed at it something fierce.

Once he climbed back onto his feet, he tried to impale the traveler with his sword. The figure stepped to the side though and slammed the leader’s sword onto the ground with its weapon. It kicked him in the chest. He stumbled back a bit but found his footing. Right away he lunged at his foe.

While this unfolded, another mugger engaged another one of the travelers. He swung his sword at it from all directions like a madman. The traveler evaded these random slashes with little effort. In the break before his next swing, the figure pulled out its sheath and whacked him in the face with it. His head jolted from side to side. When he looked straight ahead again, he found his opponent’s sword resting against his neck.

“Do it,” he murmured. “I dare you.”

The figure sighed before it slit his throat. Blood spurted out of the wound as the robber placed his hand over it. He then dropped to his knees. Moments later he tipped over onto the ground on his stomach. The figure just shook its head.

Meanwhile, the leader of the muggers still engaged his adversary. Every swing of the blade he made was blocked though. During one of his pauses, the traveler swung its sword at his head. He rolled underneath it, however, and stood back up.

“Fall back!” he said.

The two of them retreated from the figures as dust shot into the air. The travelers did not give chase though. If this was the end to the battle, they welcomed it with open arms.

Once the muggers felt they’d cleared enough distance, they came to a halt. They faced each other with their sides to their foes. Then the minion started to panic. He just wanted to leave. The leader tried to convince him to stay and fight. They needed their belongings. Not to mention they had to avenge their fallen comrades. Too much was at stake to give up. The other highwayman pondered this for a few moments. He nodded and queried about the plan. The leader began to explain it confidently.

A knife burst through the side of the subordinate’s head suddenly. Some blood from the wound splattered on the leader’s face. He watched in horror as the body fell to the ground. Just seconds ago, his comrade had exhibited the flame of life. And then it was snuffed out. Soon he felt the blood on his face and wiped it off with his hands. He gazed at it before he flicked it off onto the road.

His next realization was all the men who’d served him the last two years were no more. In his petty kingdom, he was the last survivor. He’d become the king of nothing. Emptiness and forlornness started to tug at his heart. However, these emotions were short-lived. Anger quickly consumed both feelings. He laid his eyes upon those responsible for the decimation of his everything. Within each was a sea of flames. Condemnation followed.

The travelers just stood there like ghostly wooden statues again. There was no need for them to say anything. They figured their actions had conveyed it all for them.

“I don’t know if I can slay all six of you bastards,” he said, “but I’ll sure as hell try.”

He tore the knife from his follower’s head.

The tallest of the figures then rushed at him. Once it was within range, it swung its sword at him. The leader crossed his weapons and blocked it. The figure kicked him in the knee. He yelped as he dropped onto it. Fatigue began to take hold, and he lowered his weapons.

Instantly the traveler swung its sword down onto his head. Right away the leader crossed his weapons as he shakily raised them above his head. He was able to block the attack. The traveler kneed him in the chin. He dropped his weapons onto the road as he fell on his back.

The figure almost floated up to him and put its foot on his throat. The traveler pressed down on it, and he made a muffled cry. Then he tried to speak. However, all he could do was gurgle. The traveler noticed this and eased up a little. Curiosity had burrowed into its mind like a mole.

“You six are an enigma to me,” he said, “but one thing isn’t. If you want to end my life so badly, then pray today is the day of your beliefs.”

He grabbed the traveler’s foot and pushed it upward. It jumped back a couple of steps.

“But that prayer will go unanswered,” he said.

He snatched his sword before he got onto his knees. Then he thrust it at the figure. It parried his strike though and sliced his hand off with one stroke. It as well as the sword fell onto the road in a cloud of blood.

The leader hollered as he bled profusely. He clutched the bloody stump against his chest with his other hand. Reluctantly he looked at his wound. Pouring forth among the blood was the outcome of this battle. It would not be in his favor. His condition sealed that fate. He had to try something else. Gradually he lifted his head and looked at them.

“If it’s our belongings you’re after,” he said, “you can have them. That way there’s no need to kill me.”

The traveler turned around and began to stroll away from him. The leader grabbed his sword again and stood up. Then he charged at him unsteadily. A smile appeared on his face. His plan had worked. This was the opportunity for vengeance he’d been hunting for. Even if he only laid to rest one of them, it’d be enough.

“This is for my men, you degenerates,” he thought.

He thrust his sword like a dying god. The traveler spun to the side and the blade grazed its cloak. The leader halted as another sword appeared from out of nowhere under his groin. The blade faced upward. It started its sharp ascent toward the heavens. The leader dropped his sword as his body gave birth to various tissues. Once the blade exited the top of his head, the two halves of his body fell away from each other like the halves of a split log. With two concurrent thuds they hit the road. The traveler behind this attack lowered its weapon.

The other four came over and they just stared at the mess. They understood his melting pot of emotions, but this was utter foolishness. At least he’d be reunited with his party though. Hell would make sure of it. Then the traveler who’d thrown the knife took this opportunity to retrieve it.

Even though they wore blood as a badge of honor, it couldn’t last forever. A minute later they hurried into the woods in search of the stream. Once they found it, they rinsed themselves off along with their gear. It was refreshing in a way only they could know. As they did this, they couldn’t help but watch the blood and water mix together like two different paints. It was a painting in one of its most natural forms.

Afterward, they removed the bodies from the road. One of them realized the corpses would impede traffic, and the travelers didn’t want to do that. They piled all but one next to the carved-in tree. The body they excluded from this heap belonged to the leader. The two halves of his corpse were instead placed on sticks in front of the pile. The display was to serve as a marker of what had transpired here today. It was also to serve as a dire warning to those who might have decided to take malicious actions against them.

For a few moments they just stood there and admired the piece like patrons in an art gallery. It even brought a tear to the eye of one of the travelers. Then they decided it was time to resume their voyage. Once again, they marched side by side on the decrepit dirt road toward the city of Vallone.