EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Mon, 23 Sep 2002 23:37:34 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 29/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
Zarach looked around with a satisfied smile on his face. There were at least
six dead Hunters sprawled out before him. All six were in various states of
dismemberment, and one was entirely without limbs. They'd fought well; if
nothing else, Lilitu inspired unquestioning loyalty. There was a desperate,
unreasoning ferocity about them, but they had never had a chance. One might
as well ask toddlers to fight a grizzly bear, than to ask even trained,
skilled Hunters to tackle an ancient Immortal at the height of his power.
The question was where the hell had she gotten so many troops? So much
cannon-fodder?
The intersection had been nondescript, and Zarach had no idea why these
Hunters had died to defend it. Perhaps it held some emotional significance,
or maybe they'd just gotten lost. Either way, they'd had the bad luck to
have Zarach in his full rage come upon them. One had actually managed to
rake Zarach's face with his weapon, but Zarach had caught the man's arm
mid-stroke and snapped it like kindling.
As the first attacker had fallen, Zarach moved onto the second and third
with inhuman speed. They fired at him point blank and missed-Zarach was not
about to let himself get shot. He dropped to one knee and punched straight
forward with strength. There was a muffled crack and one Hunter screamed in
pain as he folded in half, torn up. As the second man went down, Zarach came
up with a sledgehammer blow that connected with the underside of his chin
and nearly tore his heads from his shoulders.
Two more Hunters came from behind. Would they never end? He wondered,
turning and disarming them, and then catching their heads between his hands.
As the Hunters scrabbled impotently at his two-colored eyes, Zarach turned
their heads hard to the left and was rewarded with the sound of splintering
vertebrae. He twisted to the right, got more of the same, and drooped the
twitching corpses at his feet.
The last Hunter chose that moment to attack, forewarning Zarach by screaming
as he did so. Zarach almost laughed as he saw his assailant, a middle-aged
man, his face twisted by hatred into a monstrous mask. The Hunter sprang for
the Son of the Endless Night, who ducked, turned, and caught the man's ankle
as he went past. The momentum of the Hunter's leap was such that Zarach was
able to take it and used it to his own purpose, swinging the man by his foot
into the unforgiving ground. Without stopping, Zarach flipped out his
opponent over by his ankle, and continued turning. The crunch that followed
was not entirely dissimilar in tone from the one his friends' heads had
made, but it did allow the victim to give a thin scream. Zarach roared in
triumph and moved up to the man's knee. That snapped, too, and then
everything had been lost in a red haze of remembrance...
Zarach blinked. Aylon slapped him again, hard enough to shatter the jaw of a
weaker man.
"What are you doing?" Aylon growled. "Why the hell did you run off like
that? Are you mad? Are you even aware of who you are, where you are?"
Zarach recovered his senses. "Her essence, her soul, her influence... I can
feel her! She's calling me to her!"
"Fight her, Zarach! Fight against her," Aylon roared slapping his face once
more.
Zarach just recovered his senses in time to feel the Immortal's presence.
Aylon looked around too.
That was when Cartiphilus threw forth his spear slicing the air-though not,
thankfully, through either Zarach or Aylon who moved aside.
"Welcome, brothers," Cartiphilus' deep voice came. His hand flashed out as
his spear caught the light in a menacing reflection. "It's nice to meet you
both, at last."
Four more Hunters poured into the area, each wielding a scimitar. Zarach and
Aylon glanced at them. "My personal guard," Cartiphilus explained.
Keeping his fiery-eyed gaze on Cartiphilus, Aylon addressed Zarach. "Take
the mortals. This bastard is mine."
Cartiphilus took a step forward, seeming to be glaring at Aylon with both
hatred and respect. He bowed slightly. "I always wanted to fight against the
best."
Aylon smiled back, pleasantly. "You're going to die against the best,
Centurion," he menaced, and swiftly withdrew his scimitar from under his
black cloak.
The response was immediate, as Cartiphilus and his four Hunters charged
forward, swinging their swords, the blades viciously slicing the air.
Aylon leapt forward, parrying Cartiphilus' blows, and those of the Hunter
besides his master.
As the blades clanged and echoed, Zarach took out his two sai and stepped
forward confidently and parried the blows of the three scimitars, lunging,
thrusting, and feinting.
Quickly Aylon thrust forward with his scimitar and skewed the Hunter. The
man fell to the ground.
"Not bad," Cartiphilus said attacking again. "Not bad at all for an old
man."
At that moment, Zarach felt Lilitu's presence at last. His gaze scanned the
area. "Lilitu is here!" he yelled at Aylon as he killed two men at the same
time.
"Where?" Aylon turned at this distraction, and Cartiphilus swung his spear
and gashed the dark-garbed warrior across his left arm, sending him tumbling
backwards.
"Forget about Mother!" Cartiphilus snarled. "Worry about me!"
It seemed the ground itself started to tremble. Aggressively, Aylon and
Cartiphilus pursued a private duel in the midst of the pandemonium, the
steel of their weapons singing and ringing.
Zarach impaled his last enemy with both sai at the same time. At the
carnage-cluttered clearing, the weapons of the Old Man of the Mountain and
the former Centurion clanged and rang as the two skilled warriors battled
away.
Cartiphilus rushed toward Aylon, with his spear outstretched. The Old Man of
the Mountain met him, the scimitar flashing in his hands as he let his
natural skills take over. He carried the sword high; hands tilted back to
position the pointed edge down. At the last minute he stepped aside,
avoiding the Centurion.
Aylon whipped the scimitar around in a blinding arc, cutting at Cartiphilus'
waist. "Now we're even," the Old Man of the Mountain said smiling.
With a howl, Cartiphilus charged again. Lunge, slice, parry cut, high,
low-entries sought, barely blocked. The Centurion had strength, and though
he was quick, he was a fraction slower than the Old Man of the Mountain. He
was too confident. He had shown in his eyes the extreme confidence he had in
Lilitu's powers. That, most of all, Aylon could exploit.
Aylon gave a calculated stumble and watched the arrogance, the certainty of
success, flash across Cartiphilus' face. With it came the opening Aylon had
been waiting for. The Centurion's spear swung wide; the Old Man of the
Mountain spun inwardly and drove his elbow into his enemy's face. With a
half turn, the razor edge of his scimitar laid open Cartiphilus' arm and
slid into his side.
Cartiphilus grunted but did not stop fighting. His spear flashed again,
biting deeply into Aylon's right thigh. The Old Man of the Mountain sent all
the strength of his anger through his good leg, out into his foot, as he
kicked out. The bones of the Centurion's knee shattered beneath his heel.
The leg bent backward, and Cartiphilus screamed with agony as his leg went
out under him.
And with his momentum, Aylon spun like a tiger and his next blow crippled
Cartiphilus' left side and crushed part of his chest, destroying the Roman's
shoulder. Aylon whirled and sliced, carving a deep wound in his opponent's
chest again.
Cartiphilus, stunned, remained on his knees, a gash streaming blood across
his chest like a scarlet sash.
"Remember what Yehoshua bar-Joshua told you before you nailed him to the
cross?" Aylon asked, a sinister smile upon his face. "You era is finished
now!" he roared at Cartiphilus.
Aylon raised his scimitar to finish his work. The edge of his blade sliced
cleanly. Before the head touched the ground, the shattered vessel that was
Cartiphilus gave up its Quickening like wisps of smoke which curled into the
air, intertwining with the dancing darkness. Behind them, The Old Man of the
Mountain heard an explosion, sending flames and debris into the air,
lighting the night bright orange and yellow colors. The atmosphere became a
gale, a dancing frenzy, as the Quickening writhed in the whirlwind, and then
sought shelter into Aylon.
Even while he was receiving the very potent Quickening, Aylon remained as if
nothing were happening. The yellow and blue rays of energy invaded his
being, and yet he stood in alert position, awaiting any trick Lilitu could
attempt.
Tongues of fire shot from the ground with a hiss quenched in the air as
Aylon was assailed by the smell of burning wood and flesh around him.
However, his eyes continued scanning the area.
And then, suddenly, a great wall of blackness came down around him like a
century's worth of midnights.
========
Lilitu had watched the brief debate between Zarach and Aylon and nearly
laughed with joy. If this were no trick, she could not have asked for a
better chance. All she had to do was wait for the right moment, and both
would easily be hers.
It was a matter of seconds until it would all be over.
But suddenly, Cartiphilus and his personal guard had entered the scene.
Almost without effort, Zarach took care of three men, while Aylon killed
another Hunter and beheaded Cartiphilus. As the Quickening developed, Lilitu
offered a silent curse at the persistence of the Ancient Gathering, and then
unleashed the shadows.
She could no longer afford to wait. A globe of blackness arose from the
ground and enveloped Zarach and Aylon as the Quickening continued. They
didn't even have time to shout before they were overwhelmed.
Aylon fell to the ground, his prison of darkness unraveling in seconds. He
stumbled to his feet and looked around. To his credit, he took the entire
situation in at a glance. "Come and die, Lilitu!" he breathed, and took a
step forward.
Lilitu didn't waste time. She leapt down from the tree, pillars of darkness
behind her billowing out and reaching out for her prey.
Aylon did the sensible thing. He charged. Lilitu faced him. For a moment,
both Immortals raged inside the Darkness, their blades held in front of
them. "Glad to see me?" the Old Man of the Mountain said, and before Lilitu
could react, he charged. With a flying knick, he planted one foot in his
opponent's stomach, the other on her shoulder, and sprang upward, using
Lilitu as a springboard that allowed him to get out the darkness. With one
clean motion, Aylon landed and rolled, then braced himself and looked
around. He couldn't see anything yet. "Where are you, whore?"
Lilitu answered his question by shooting up through the darkness and smashed
into Aylon full tilt, sending him crashing onto the ground.
Aylon rolled and came up fast as Lilitu charged. "Here, kitty, kitty,
kitty," he mocked, crouched and waited. "Come and get what you deserve."
The two Immortals faced each other, a strange respect mingling now with
their mutual hatred. Simultaneously, they lunged toward each other, and a
battle begun twelve-thousand years before was continued. Vicious, expert
blows traded one for one, clangs of metal against metal, smacks of flesh
against flesh, punches, kicks, elbows, backhands, no prowess lost over the
passage of mere centuries.
In and around the darkness they fought, a pair of Immortals possessed by,
and possessing, ancient warrior skills, thrusting, parrying, feinting, the
staffs of the deadly weapons pressed against each other. At first one, then
another of these powerful beings would toss the other aside, only to return
to take, and deliver, more punishment. Relentlessly they fought,
brilliantly, hating each other, admiring each other, each astounded by the
proficiency of the other.
Finally, Aylon saw an opening, and took it, diving toward Lilitu, the edge
of his scimitar headed right for that deadly, vulnerable place-and nothing
would have pleased the Old Man of the Mountain more than to spill this
woman's blood for the last time.
But Lilitu stepped aside, and slammed a vicious elbow into the back of
Aylon's neck, sending him to the ground in a tumbling sprawl. Lilitu moved
backwards.
More darkness came to assist Lilitu. She needed it. Aylon was considerably
stronger and taller than her. Mother had not survived all those millennia
just to be killed by a minor mistake.
As new blackness came upon Aylon, he turned everywhere, trying to locate
Lilitu.
She placed herself exactly behind him for just a second. It was more than
she needed. She drew back her blade for the killing blow, but then felt
something clamp on her wrist. Startled, Lilitu turned and saw a band of
shadow wrapped around her forearm, tugging her backward toward... Zarach.
"Long time, Mother," Zarach said and jerked the tendril back, and Lilitu was
yanked willy-nilly from her position to land on her back on the ground.
"What?" she roared.
A fresh bloodstain spread on Zarach's shoulder, but he ignored it.
"Surprised? You shouldn't be. After all, I'm the Son of the Endless Night.
Remember? Some lessons are never forgotten!" Zarach made another motion, and
the band of darkness on Lilitu's wrist tightened with bone-crushing
strength.
Lilitu did her best to ignore it. With her other hand, she reached down to
her right ankle, where she kept a spare throwing knife. Crying out with
pain, she launched the blade at Zarach. The throw was off-line, but Zarach
took a split second, he wasn't paying attention to Lilitu herself, and that
was all the time she needed.
A shadow of her own tore Zarach's to shreds, and she rolled left even as
Zarach unleashed another on her. Her hand caught a piece of debris and she
flung it at him. The shadow tendril knocked it out of the air, but it bought
her another precious second, as she came to her feet and prepared to
counterattack.
A half-dozen shadows reached out from the ground to wrap themselves around
Zarach. He snarled and dissolved into a pool of darkness himself to escape.
"Well done, my son!" she said smiling this time. "However, you have yet much
to learn! I am that I am!"
"Not for long!" Aylon roared joining the battle once more.
Lilitu didn't try to parry. Instead, she summoned darkness, paying no heed
to the growing anger that gnawed at her. A pair of tendrils arrowed toward
Aylon, only to be batted aside by others that had to be controlled by
Zarach.
Not even pausing to watch, Lilitu jumped to evade Aylon's scimitar. Her fist
crashed on his face, sending him backwards. Something wrapped itself around
her ankle and she fell, hard. Bloodied, she managed to flip herself over and
see that a staggering Zarach had managed to snag her with a lone strand of
darkness.
Lilitu's face flushed with anger. Zarach was clearly spent; he had nothing
left. She was tiring, but she still had enough to deal with him and Aylon.
If nothing else, she could take them both with her bare hands. Closing her
eyes, she stopped resisting. The tendril dragged her, foot-by-foot, closer
to Zarach, wrapping up more and more of her leg as it did so. Zarach was
deadly, she knew. Lilitu knew his skill, knew his determination. But now he
was angry as well. He might be weary, even deeply wounded. But he was still
the Son of the Endless Night.
Lilitu clenched her fist. A shadow slithered out from the ground and came to
her. She fed it strength, then told it to smite Zarach. In its own way, it
understood and went to obey. Black as night as terrible, it reared back to
strike.
A full-throated roar erupted from behind Zarach. He resisted the temptation
to look, instead dodging the shadow tendril as it arrowed toward his heart.
Lilitu cursed as he flattened himself on the ground and the shadow passed
overhead. There were more shots then, as more Hunters crashed to the ground
a yard from where Zarach lay. Their faces were smashed into an
unrecognizable ruin by the force of the shadow's impact.
Six more Hunters came, Pulse rifles blazing. "Kill him!" Lilitu ordered
them.
Like a phantom, Aylon started to cut the men into pieces.
Zarach could pay no more attention to anything but his mission. He leapt for
Lilitu, but moved a fraction of a second too late as she hurled a huge stone
at him with a simple movement of her hand. Its weight toppled over onto him,
and he was forced to take a precious instant to hurl it aside. At that
moment, Lilitu charged again.
With animalistic savagery, Lilitu tore at him, eschewing anything more
complicated that her fingers as she reached toward Zarach's throat.
Zarach drooped his shoulder and plowed into Lilitu's back with bone-crushing
force. She scrambled to her feet, but not before Zarach was on top of her
again. He caught her face in his left hand and tore across, leaving a trail
of bloody furrows before she wrenched out of his grip.
Zarach howled rage and frustration then, a sound to chill the blood as she
came to her feet. He lashed out with a fist, which she parried, but the
man's second blow caught her in the knee and nearly buckled it. Zarach
smiled wolfishly and circled to the left, looking to exploit the weak knee.
Hobbling, Lilitu turned to face him.
With a grim countenance, Lilitu assessed the situation even as Zarach
feinted a kick at her injured leg. She dodged, painfully, and then had to
duck a vicious swing that would have taken her head off had it connected.
Lilitu was far weaker than she wanted to be; too many shadows had been
required to distract Zarach. Her former son, the Son of the Endless Night,
the greatest hunter ever to walk the face of the earth, was about to earn
his reputation all over again. Maybe it was time to go.
With strength born of desperation, she launched a spinning kick at Zarach.
He dodged it, but she used the seconds to force healing her knee. Zarach
lashed out with another combination of blows, but she weaved out the way of
each and then turned her last dodge into a full-fledged sprint. Zarach gave
a bellow of inchoate rage and ran after her.
Lilitu's cave was not so far away. In there, her power was stronger. There
she'd be safe. Behind her, Zarach came charging after, his weakness masked
by anger.
Aylon joined Zarach. Both Immortals ran like madmen behind her. Making a
last effort, Lilitu made rocks, sand, everything behind her to slow them
down fly against them with her inner power. But both men waded through the
obstacles as if they were nothing.
But Lilitu was faster. Step by step, she won the race until she reached her
cave's main entrance. She risked a last glance at her pursuers. Aylon and
Zarach's visage, clearly visible just a few meters behind her, were the
essence of implacable hatred. That was exactly what she desired.
She blew them a kiss, and then entered the darkness of her cave. Almost
instantly, the ripples of her passage vanished. She was gone.
========