Stalker
Chapter 12: A Matter of Death and Life
Vanyen wanted to scream, run, just let it be over, but she was in the goblin camp. Her will fought inside her and she ran, as quietly as possible, cringing at every clink of armor. A goblin guard looked up at her and started to yell. Vanyen moved quickly, instinctively. The goblin was dead before he hit the ground. Hydra back in its hook, Vanyen kept running. She realized the advantage of surprise was lost, so she began cutting tent ropes and collapsing them on the surprised inhabitants. She kicked over a torch and a blaze started, satisfied, Vanyen continued running, a few stray arrows flying over her head.
But the song started.
Vanyen ran. All her hope, her fighting the fear was gone. There was only blind running, the running that could do nothing. The song was loud, every syllable pounding and echoing in her head. She kept running. Vanyen couldn’t help it. She glanced back.
He was gaining. He was closer than before, already across the river. He wasn’t even moving. But she could tell, though his face was still completely obscured, that he was smiling.
She turned and continued the blind scamper, barely missing a tree that emerged from the dark fog. The moon was out, casting faded white shadows over the empty land.
She kept running, climbing some of the foothills, and entering the Jorgodi, feet stepping on stone, and dodging the low bushes. Suddenly, the path ended and a cliff opened up in front of her. She stopped. And spun, looking for a way out. The Stalker was only a few heights away.
He moved fluidly without the up-and-down motion of walking, almost as if he was drifting along in his long, dark robe.
“And so, it comes to this. Our final fight. The last battle. No more running. No one else. Just you, fighting for your life.”
Vanyen’s heart stopped as he reached up and pulled his hood down. There was the face of a handsome young man. He smiled. His eyes were blood red. “Everyone thinks they’ll be the one to defeat me,” The Stalker said, easily leaning on his staff. Then with lightning speed, he struck out.
Vanyen ducked and drew her axes, trying to stop her hands from sweating. “But I like you, Vanyen.” She blocked his swing with her axes. “You’re tough. Defending a city alone? Not even I could.”
The Stalker flipped some hidden switch on his weapon, and the steel ring on the top uncurled creating a deadly razor whip. He flicked it at her and she blocked it, the steel sending sparks at her. “You lasted longer than some hardened warriors. You were the first who ever fought me on sight.” He pushed forward, bringing his face to hers. “But you can’t win.”
He flicked his whip out and it connected with the back of her calf causing her to fall to her knees. Vanyen clenched her teeth. “You’re wrong.”
“Wrong about winning? No, your fate has been sealed, written on the Dark Crystal that formed your burn. Vanyen dies tonight. Nothing can change that. You see this staff?” He pointed at the shaft of his whip. “Those marks are from the weapons of everyone I’ve killed. They were all methodically hunted down. The outcome is always the same. The souls of everyone I’ve defeated means I cannot be killed. See here?” He gestured to the space at the end of the staff. “That’s for North. Your axe will mark this staff before the day is done, and you will die.”
“No. You said I’m alone. You’re wrong. I’m never alone.”
An arrow tore through the fog, embedding itself in the Stalker’s shoulder. He fell back. Kryger galloped out of the fog, arrow nocked. “You’re done, fiend!” he growled. The Stalker leaped upon Kryger, bony clawed hands ripping him apart, sharpened teeth biting, scythe-whip lashing out. Kryger screamed and fell. The Stalker fell too. He landed, strangely hunched without his robe. He turned toward her, and from her knees Vanyen put all of her power and soul into the throw. North met the Stalker and he flew backward with a scream.
Vanyen’s burn fell away. The pain was gone. She ran to Kryger. He was dying. He looked at her and said nothing. He didn’t need to. She looked at the Stalker. He was a pale form, eyes now pale blue and widened in surprise. North was in his chest, but next to the handaxe was a gold-fletched arrow buried deep in his heart. Vanyen pulled her axe free, ignoring the blood that ran down her hands.
A wind came, and the Stalker’s body crumpled to dust, carried off, leaving behind the dark cloak and scythe. Vanyen sat alongside Kryger’s body and mourned, screaming and weeping for what felt like hours. Finally, she dried her tears and looked around. There was his cloak and the scythe. She knew what she had to do. Vanyen grimly took the arrow that had hit the Stalker and scratched the staff. After a moment’s hesitation, she gripped North and made a notch as well. She walked solemnly over and placed her axes crossed on Kryger’s body, with his bow and quiver.
She walked away and clipped the Stalker’s cloak around her neck. She pulled her hood up and gripped the shaft of the scythe.
Her feet made no noise as she walked to the edge of the cliff, and her red eyes surveyed the goblin camp. There’s plenty of room for notches on the other side of the staff, she thought. Her mouth opened and without thinking a tune drifted out.
Mountains cave
Building a grave
I will come for you
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Fires flow
The waters know
I will come for you
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You are not safe
In dream nor death
I will come for you