Evolution of a Warrior E-Book

David Christopher Veiling

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 341

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Something evil lurks in the City of Nemeah. Changelings possess ordinary citizens and turn them into horrific monsters with terrible capabilities. The only group able to deal with this threat is the mysterious Red Brigade. Empowered by the goddess Akali, they gain the strength needed to kill these unfortunate souls. Until a normal guardsman by the name of Siegfried cuts down one of the changelings. Alone. As Siegfried battles to protect the people he holds dear from these mindless beasts, he stumbles upon a revelation that shatters his perception of reality. His own body begins to undergo a baffling transformation, yet his human consciousness remains intact. In a world where heroes and villains wear shifting masks, Siegfried finds himself standing at the crossroads of destiny. To challenge those he once revered as heroes, he must embark on a perilous journey to harness his newfound abilities. Every transformation brings him closer to monstrous power, raising the stakes of his internal struggle as he grapples with his own humanity.

Leseprobe

Children of Nemeah

Book 1

Inhalt

Children of Nemeah

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Afterword

Prologue

A sinister presence had haunted the City of Nemeah for the past twenty years. People started to change into horrendous monsters or developed other lethal abilities and started attacking their neighbours and relatives. Those abominations were called changelings, and the only group able to deal with this threat was the mysterious Red Brigade. Empowered by the goddess Akali, their enforcers gained the strength needed to kill these unfortunate souls. Until a normal guardsman by the name of Siegfried cut down one of the changelings.

Alone.

Chapter 1

††† Siegfried †††

Siegfried walked through the hallway of the Guard's barracks with confident steps. The old but well-maintained stone building had been his home for the past few years, and everything had changed for the better since then. He was on his way to meet his squad and their newest member.

The corner of Siegfried's mouth turned upwards as he could hear the deep, croaky voice of his mentor Bolverk through the wooden door. He could easily deduce what was going on, judging from the fervour in Bolverk's voice and the dull thumps of heavy boots.

He opened the door, and the bulky frame of the older guardsman came to a stop in front of him. Bolverk's sword was raised high, poised to slay an invisible foe. Siegfried's squadmates, Agnar and Eirik, sat at the table behind Bolverk, hiding their faces in embarrassment. Only the young man next to them stared with fascination.

Bolverk used every opportunity to recount Siegfried's fight against a changeling and had apparently found a willing audience again.

"Aren't you a bit old to play swords with the children?" Siegfried mocked with a grin at the frozen form of his mentor.

"There is my boy," Bolverk boomed, completely ignoring the playful jab. "Sieg, meet Hall, our newest recruit," he introduced, grabbing the boy by the shoulder.

Hall looked wiry enough for his age, but Siegfried didn't appreciate the reverence in the boy's eyes when they shook hands.

"Don't take everything the old man said at face value, Hall," Sieg said, crossing his arms. "He likes to embellish that tale while leaving out that I was still lucky to survive at all." He threw a meaningful glare at Bolverk.

Before the veteran guardsman could answer, Hall raised his hand in a forestalling gesture. "I won't get careless, Siegfried," Hall said. His tone had changed to a cold hollowness that reached his eyes. "I know how dangerous and different they can be."

Those were not the eyes of a child prone to delusions of grandeur, and Sieg had to admit he'd read Hall wrong.

The ensuing silence was pregnant with expectation. No one wanted to pry, but Hall picked it up when his gaze flitted between the guardsmen. His chest rose with a deep breath as he came to a decision.

"I've had my own encounter with a changeling. And it took everything from me," Hall confided. Emotionally driven stiffness seemed to creep into his posture as the words came flowing mechanically.

††††††

The smell of fresh-baked bread permanented the living room. Hall sat at the table, working on his wood carving skills while his mother prepared breakfast. His little brother, Ethan, laughed with glee as their father pretended to wrestle with him and snuck the occasional tickle into the game.

From one moment to the next, the child suddenly started to shake. A web of blue lightning snaked around its body, and Hall's father was stunned in the current. He cried out but couldn't let go of his youngest. Even as he was tortured by lightning, the man recognised what happened and the danger it posed for his wife and older son. He let himself fall forward together with the changeling into the burning hearth. His heart gave out before he touched the embers, his limbs still twitching on his burnt body.

The changeling never changed form or even the voice. The heart-wrenching cries of a human boy filled the room until it finally suffocated from the smoke.

††† Siegfried †††

After Hall had shared his story, the silence in the living quarters was heavy. It felt like the very air itself was weighing down on them. There were no words of condolence that would not feel hollow or sound trite in the face of what Hall had experienced—at such a young age, nonetheless.

The quiet sound of light, feathery steps sounded through the open door before revealing a beautiful, girlish face framed by blonde, shoulder-length hair. The young woman had a smile on her lips, so sparkling it made an almost comical contrast to the dark mood around the table. "Hey everyone, are you already—" She stopped mid-sentence as she caught the scowls looking up to her. "What happened to you guys? Is Agnar on cooking duty again, or what's with the long faces?"

"Ha Ha, Svana, you're hilarious," Agnar retorted. But it did bring out a light chuckle from everyone but Hall, who seemed lost in his own world as he stared at Svana.

"Svana, that's Hall, the new guy," Bolverk introduced. He turned to a slack-faced Hall, chuckling. "Svana here's part of our regiment and two years yer superior. But don't let that cute face fool ya! The gal's a feisty one—a wolf in sheep's clothing, ya hear?"

"Oh, Bolverk, you wound my heart!" Svana declared, making a face of mock-injury. "Don't listen to him, Hall. I'm sure we will match up just fine," she added with a smiling wink, changing Hall's light red blush further into a deeper red as he closed his mouth.

Siegfried groaned at her antics while Eirik laughed openly. At the very least, she had lifted the gloomy fog from their minds.

"The goddess give me strength to put up with those kids," Bolverk muttered. "Let's move out already."

All-clad in the brown leathers of the Guard's uniform, the party set out onto the cobblestone walkways. Siegfried looked up to the outer wall of the vast city. Even though it would take a whole day to travel from the west to the east side, the enormous walls were visible from everywhere.

As so often, he marvelled again at how such a structure could be built. Some say it was conjured by the goddess Akali, protector of the city, herself. No one knew for sure—the priesthood of Akali and the Red Brigade, who governed the City of Nemeah in her name, were not keen on preserving or sharing history amongst the people.

A good third of the city, on the southern side, was embedded in the mountain range. However, the wall still surrounded it entirely in the shape of an ellipse. It was then divided into four sectors, separated by smaller walls that stretched from the west side across the city to the east side in a slight arc.

The residential district they were mainly assigned to was on the western side and counted as one of the younger areas, made apparent by the relatively smooth stonework buildings. The tenements mostly were cubicle in form and came in all different sizes. However, there was more space between the houses, unlike the older districts, leaving broader alleys to traverse.

Siegfried observed his new teammate from the corner of his eyes as they walked. Hall's shy demeanour towards Svana was thrown into stark contrast by the smooth precision of his every movement. He had an awkwardness to his personality that didn't match the confidence of his strides, the certainty with which he walked the uneven cobblestones, never having to adjust a step. And although they were traversing a peaceful street, Hall moved in a way that never left an opening to unbalance him—slightly smaller steps in a broadened stance so he could react to any surprising threat in time. By now, Sieg understood why Bolverk chose to accept Hall into the squad, but he also hoped that the old man wasn't blinded by the boy's tragic past.

He would have to keep an eye on Hall.

††† Hall †††

Danger. The past 3 years under his master's tutelage had prepared Hall to look out for this kind of feeling. But he hadn't expected to feel it radiating from the person he had idolised all this time.

To meet Siegfried was both the most exciting and scary event he could imagine. Since slaying that changeling, Siegfried had become a legend amongst the common folk, and Hall thought most of the tales about him would be vastly exaggerated. He knew better now.

Siegfried was taller than most men he knew, having to duck his head to pass beneath a normal doorframe. His shoulders were broad, and the leather armour showed slight contours of the muscles that stretched it to capacity. His face was sculpted like a marble statue, except for one faded scar lining his left cheek.

But what really captivated Hall was that intense gaze of Siegfried's odd-coloured eyes. His left eye was a dark cyan, while the right was hazel. And that gaze seemed to penetrate everything he focused on, which was apparently everything at once. He had noticed the moment Sieg joined them in the barracks—his eyes had flitted through the room like a cat's and then shot towards Hall. It felt as if his very soul was laid bare beneath that glare.

And right now, all his senses told him to be on high alert. Siegfried was watching him covertly, and his attention alone was oppressive in a way that Hall hadn't thought possible.

He would have to be careful.

Upon reaching the nearest market square, Bolverk decided to fan out in three groups to cover more ground and check on relevant information with the various marketers, innkeepers and smaller shop owners.

Svana all but d left to watch over Hall.

"What exactly are we to do with the civilians here?" Hall asked as he let his eyes roam about the simple market stalls, the cosy-looking wooden inn and various smaller catering establishments. It was a cheerful atmosphere with only the locals chatting and gossiping and the friendly banter accompanying their conversations.

"The people here are honest folk. We have known most of them for years. Traders, bar owners or innkeepers are always in contact with a myriad of different citizens," Eirik explained. "Gossiping and listening to their patron's wailing is part of their trade. If you want to hear about any recent trouble, this is the best source of information."

In the meantime, Sieg and Svana were already at the first stall. The stocky, old man who owned it smiled broadly as he greeted them. Hall noticed with interest how easy-going the conversation seemed to flow between them. Despite his imposing appearance and reputation, Siegfried seemed to be easy to talk to for the shopkeeper. At one point, Svana bumped her hip into Sieg's, smirking teasingly and causing the old peddler to throw his head back in laughter.

Hall turned to Eirik with his open questions when they were out of hearing range. "What was that about? With Svana and Siegfried, I mean."

Eirik snorted. "Greg, that's the old peddler, knows how Svana likes to tease Sieg and how neither of them ever committed to each other. He just likes to get his own part of the fun out of the two of them," he waved dismissively. "It's all just friendly banter in the end— nothing serious either way."

Hall tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling in his gut. He wouldn't have called it jealousy – he just met Svana after all, and they didn't really know each other. But somehow, that bright, carefree smile still captivated him. He shoved the irrational feelings aside and focused on a different topic instead. "What about Bolverk? He did sound a lot like a father bragging about his son's accomplishments earlier. They aren't related, are they?"

"No, they are not," Eirik answered as he threw a fond glance in Bolverk's direction across the stalls between them. "Although Bolverk might very well see him like the son he'd never had. The same goes for Sieg. You know he is an orphan… and like most orphans, he grew up in the slums."

"Siegfried is an orphan? I'd never guessed," Hall admitted. "When I heard how well-trained he is with the sword, I thought he would have been the son of a guardsman or even a member of the Red Brigade."

"Far from it," Eirik chuckled. "Bolverk found him when he was a boy of fifteen years." The older guardsman regarded Hall for a moment and quickly gave in to the begging eyes of the teenager. "Well, I guess we can spare a few minutes right now. Take a seat," he said while sitting down on a crate. Hall complied, eager to hear about the circumstance a man like Siegfried came from.

††††††

Six years ago, Bolverk had an assignment near the border to the slums when a shriek of anguish caught his ear, a young girl's desperate cry for help. He ran up the stairs to the wall that separated the slums from his district. And there he spotted the lass, running as fast as her short legs could carry her. Three grown men, filthy thugs, caught up to her quickly. The wall was too high for Bolverk to jump down, and they ignored his shouting. No guards are patrolling the slums, no one who would risk their hide for a kid that wasn't their own.

All the higher was their surprise when one of them cried out in pain, reaching for a spot on his back. That moment, Bolverk saw a boy running in from between the shacks, jumping the crying delinquent from behind, retrieving the rusted knife from between his shoulder blades.

Bolverk was stunned in anticipation, fear for the children and impotent fury. He thought it had to be her brother, driven to rush them by blinding anger or despair at seeing his sister assaulted. But anger can only get you so far, and a young boy, wiry as he looked, was no match for three grown men.

That was when he first witnessed the cold, righteous fury that was Siegfried. With a calculated dodge, the boy evaded a wide swing from the second man while in the same movement flashing the knife across the underside of his arm, slicing the artery.

Siegfried sidestepped the last guy, who was diving for him. He swept the man from his legs with a kick and buried the knife in the thug's chest before he hit the ground.

It was over before Bolverk could comprehend what happened. Siegfried ran off with the girl in hand.

When the intrigued guardsman went into the slums himself to search for the boy, he heard stories of a young vigilante, a defender of those who can't defend themselves in a lawless place of a cast-off people—a place where the rule of the strong reigned. A young man with an inexplicable sense of justice.

Bolverk was enamoured with the ideal Sieg represented. With the raw talent he had seen. A self-taught warrior with the fighting instinct of a veteran but in the body of a fifteen-year-old. What could he become if provided with professional guidance? He called in every favour, used every contact he had built up in his past years of duty to get Sieg out of the slums and into the Guard under his direct supervision.

†††Hall†††

Hall was gaping at Eirik after those revelations. He had heard of Siegfried's accomplishment before, about the young guardsman who was revered by the common people. That the very same person had started from below the bottom of their society— it sounded like a fairy tale to him.

"One piece of advice," Eirik continued in an ominous tone. "Never ask Bolverk directly for any details to that story, or you're in for several hours of story-telling. He won't let you off either. Believe me — I tried running the first time," he added with a wink.

Hall chuckled weakly, not entirely sure how much of that was meant as a joke.

For the next half an hour, they mingled amongst the citizens. When they met again at the end of the market square, the easy-going atmosphere was gone. Bolverk led them into an empty side street to not needlessly alert others by their findings.

"Well, y'all look like it's going to be a busy day," he started with a grim look on his weathered face. "Marv' told me of a woman missing but 'twas just a customer, talking about a friend's cousin of another friend and so on. Got no name, only the general area of crafters district."

Siegfried stepped up, a severe frown darkening his features. "Svana and I got a couple reports of the same nature. No women but at least two children, same district but no details either, and no one went to the Guard. Rik?"

Eirik crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. "We only heard of a boy, but at least we got a connection. Could be one of the kids you mentioned. A farrier is searching for his apprentice — thought he might be hiding from work, rambled on about 'lazy youths' in Grog's bar last night."

Bolverk nicked in appreciation. "At least we have a solid lead then. Let's find that farrier and go from there. Keep your wits about you. The flunky of a horse smith 's worth no ransom, and three people vanishing no coincidence," he added gravely.

The group tensed up further at the unspoken conclusion of his analysis. Murders or kidnappings were generally rare in Nemeah. Enough food was produced in sector three, distributed by the priesthood of Akali. There was hardly any merit in such a crime, the reason either personal hatred or insanity and neither leading to such extreme measures often. Which left a more dreading option.

Hall was also quick on the uptake but hid the spark of anticipation behind the hardened resolution on his face.

The crafter's district was a fair distance away, and the shadows lengthened with each street they passed. Not long until the sun would vanish behind the towering cliffside to the west of the city.

The sound of hammer and anvil guided them on the last part of their late stroll. In the gloom of dusk, the open smithy looked like a small portal to the fiery hells. The farrier was the only one still working, and the hot coal of the smith's hearth glowed an ominous dirty yellow through the thick smoke.

The farrier was a gruff man, but the sheer presence of Siegfried and Bolverk seemed to compel cooperation. He believed that his apprentice ran away with the other girl that was 'missing'. He'd seen them on occasion, and her mother was living near.

Equipped with new information and a direction, Bolverk led them through the cobbled stone streets until he stopped before a small side alley. He stood with his arms akimbo in a wordless request for their attention.

"Now, that'll be less than fun," Bolverk grunted as he peeked into the alley. "It's dark already, and we don't want to hunt a murderer or worse in their own territory. Still, as it could be a changeling, we can't delay trying to get information on it. We try to get a lead from that lady and be off to the next guardhouse. We can follow up on that tomorrow, or if we get evidence that it's a changeling, inform the Red Brigade right away and be off for good."

Hall bristled on the inside, hearing those words. Inform the Red Brigade and leave if it's a changeling? People would die in the time it took for an enforcer to arrive. People like his brother and father. Siegfried had slain a changeling alone, and they were a team of six now!

When Bolverk squinted at him, Hall forced himself to relax his muscles again. Losing his calm wouldn't do him any good. He had known that guardsmen weren't supposed to actually engage a changeling, but it was still a letdown. No matter – he would wait patiently for his chance.

The cold, worn stone walls of the buildings loomed too far over them for any moonlight to touch the narrow dirt path. Bolverk lit their only oil lantern, which glimmered unsteadily through the denigrated glass pane and let shadows jump randomly around them. Every corner was filled with crates, doorways, more alleys and other opportunities for someone (or something) to get the jump on them.

At least Svana seemed to be as nervous as Hall was, judging from her stiff posture.

The only sound accompanying them was their own steps and the occasional splat when someone stepped in a puddle. In the gloomy, swaying light of the lantern, Eirik's stoic face was lit and shadowed again as if his features were constantly transforming, and Hall's imagination caused a bead of sweat to run down his forehead.

He didn't know them all that well. He wouldn't be able to tell if one of them acted just a bit different than usual. If one of them wasn't who he claimed to be.

Chapter 2

†††Siegfried†††

Siegfried had watched Hall from the corner of his eye ever since they left the market square. There had been a change in the boy's movements, a shiver that didn't reach his face, so Sieg wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement.

At long last, they reached a square with a well in the middle, just as the farrier described. The house was hard to miss, as it was the only one with flowers in front. It was as dark as the rest of the square, so the lady would likely be asleep.

Siegfried knocked at the door. As big as the house was, he feared he would have to shout to wake her up, but after a few seconds, he heard a faint rustling from inside.

Instead of the door, the front window's shutters opened, and the silhouette of a woman leaned out of it.

"Ma'am, we excuse the late disturbance. We are from the city guard and would need to ask a few questions," Siegfried said while Bolverk moved the lantern to reveal her features.

She was an attractive, mature woman. Well-endowed while keeping a slim figure, as far as he could see from her upper body. Hard but feminine, angular facial structure with black, shoulder-length hair and dark eyes.

"Ah, don't worry, young man, I couldn't sleep very well anyway. My friends call me Trish. You may do likewise." Her voice was rich, and her tone deeper than Sieg had expected. "Now, whatever could I assist you with, this late at night?"

Agnar didn't miss his opportunity to approach her first. With his best smile and confident demeanour, he explained what they had found so far and emphasised their desire to ensure her daughter's safety.

Apparently, the lady wasn't entirely appalled by Agnar's subtle advances either. "Why, thank you for your honest concern. My little darling is currently with my parents in the northern district. I really needed some time—"

When Bolverk walked up close with the lantern — close enough to nearly light up the room inside — Trish's eyes narrowed, and before they could react, she threw her arms around Agnar.

They were hurled back inside the house as if an invisible force yanked on the strings of a puppet.

A dull thump sounded as both the guard's legs hit the window's frame. His cry of pain joined Siegfried's shout, "Agnar!" and the metallic ring of their swords being drawn.

When the party followed through the window, the spacious room was empty.

Siegfried fought down the rising panic of losing Agnar to whatever nightmare took him. He turned to signal Eirik, but his friend already stormed ahead as soon as the lantern revealed the only door leading deeper into the house.

"Wait Rik! Ambush or traps!" Sieg shouted. Adrenalin pumped through his veins when he heard Eirik roar in anger, and the group rushed through the door.

The short reach of Bolverk's lamp showed wooden walls to both sides and barely reached the ceiling, nearly three times a grown man's height. But only darkness was in front — a long corridor — until the glow finally unveiled Eirik's form in the shadows, suspended in mid-air, flailing stiffly as if bound by chains.

"Goddess, protect our souls!" Svana sent a quick prayer, her voice shaking in terror.

Siegfried, spotting the fine thread, even in the dim light, jumped forward and swung his blade in a horizontal arc to the right, freeing Eirik of part of his restraints.

In that instant, a black, pointed rod shot out of the darkness through Eirik's shoulder, missing its original destination as he swayed to the side. Trish's face became visible behind him, her jaw wide open, revealing bloody fangs.

Siegfried recoiled on instinct, but a blade swiped at Trish from Eirik's left, forcing her back before she could put those fangs to use. It was Hall who had reacted in time.

As her initial attack failed, Trish retreated back into the shadow as quickly as she had appeared. The pointed rod, which they could now identify as part of her body, was ripped out of her screaming prey.

"Eirik! Oh goddess, Eirik!" Svana cried, holding him up while Hall cut the rest of the threads.

"Lean him up against the wall and guard him!" Bolverk bellowed, "Sieg, Hall, stay defensive. Those ropes stick!"

"Webs, Bolverk. She's a spider woman from the waist down, legs like spears, likely poisoned fangs — think she's using her silk thread to manoeuvre quickly!" Hall explained briefly as Bolverk hadn't seen her, standing behind Eirik.

Siegfried couldn't help but admire him for his clear-headed analysis and reaction to what they had just seen. Gone was the frightened boy he had seen on the way here. His eyes showed only grim determination, a cold desire for vengeance that left no space for other emotions.

Even though Sieg had already faced a changeling before, this was something wholly different, and he was honestly shaken with fear.

This wasn't some disfigured humanoid brute but a natural predator, superior in almost all ways to a human. The silken strands spanning between the walls just enhanced the feeling of being trapped in a monster's lair. Every fibre of his being told him to turn around and run.

A deep moan disturbed the silence. Bolverk immediately recognised it. "Agnar! He's alive!"

Siegfried's blood froze cold as the moan turned into a wail. Without a word, he pressed onward, the dim glow of Bol's lantern hardly keeping up as he cleaved through the webs that dominated the corridor.

Sieg ignored the door to his left — the monster was too big to pass through it without alerting him. Agnar's voice came from the front, and nothing would hinder him from that path.

The scuttling noise of the monster's legs against wood finally stopped him in his tracks. Trish could only move silently through her web, of course. That body had to have a lot of weight.

Sieg tried to make sense of her unexpected movement. There was a short space to the right of the hallway that lacked any webs. Maybe a trap. Or maybe an opportunity. He gripped the pommel of his sword hard, waiting for the abomination to show herself.

Trish dropped from the ceiling above, intent on skewering Sieg with her legs. Only Hall's shout of warning and Siegfried's own lightning-fast reflexes allowed him to dive to the left — fast enough to avoid certain death, only one pointed leg scoring a deep gash down his right thigh.

The higher threat was that several spider threads stopped his dive, trapping him like a fly in the net.

Bolverk swung at her from the left, aiming to slash into her unprotected torso or at least an arm. She turned on her eight quick legs and rammed her massive lower body into him, throwing the heavy guard against the wall like a puppet.

Sieg's sword arm was caught in the net. All of his strength amounted to nothing in the sticky embrace of Trish's spider silk.

The monster raised a single, deadly appendage, a victorious grin on her face, as a shadow entered Sieg's perception from the right.

†††Hall†††

Hall had been following Siegfried silently. He crouched through the right side of the corridor, where no webs were spun.

When Trish attacked, Hall used the distraction to jump on her black abdomen, stabbing his sword at the supposedly softer meat. It bounced off it with a clang.

He had realised too late that all of her lower body parts were covered in chitinous armour, not only the legs.

When Trish reared up, he pushed himself off into a backflip to land on his feet instead of his head, narrowly missing another of her sticky strings.

Hall was furious with himself. He should have trusted Bolverk's experience when the older guardsman went for the upper body. He could have ended this.

With Bolverk out cold and Siegfried immobilised, their sinister foe could put her full attention to the youngest guardsman. She leapt forward, front legs high and ready to pierce her prey. Instead of backing up, Hall rolled to the side, passing under a horizontal string and staying within the sphere of light.

Trish hissed in disappointment. "I see you are not as unobservant as the other two."

Abandoning her strategy, she reared up on six of her legs, staying at a height that left her vulnerable upper body out of reach. She used the front appendages like a spearman from behind a shield wall, raining down quickly powerful thrusts from above.

Having to parry or evade the deadly onslaught while also minding the position of the webs behind him took all of Hall's concentration.

Even though he had trained like a man possessed for the past four years, his body couldn't keep this up for long. Quick, decisive strikes were his forte, not prolonged battle. His movements became sluggish, the attacks ever closer to connecting and even glancing blows left trails of blood as the sharp-ended chitin scraped down his arm through the leather.

Sheer willpower kept him on his feet and pushed his limits to the brink. Sweat dripped from his brows when, unexpectedly, Trish's advance stopped, and her focus changed.

A tall figure, clad in dark leather armour, rushed past Hall. They ducked under the first strike from the left and countered the other leg with a shattering blow of their blade, chipping off part of the iron-hard chitin.

Lacking the immediate threat to his life, Hall finally gave in to exhaustion and dropped to the floor with a thud.

He watched in astonishment as Siegfried parried, evaded and countered with nearly inhuman speed. A metallic clang every other second and chippings of chitin flying from Trish's underside were his only clue that Siegfried scored a blow between the scraping sound of his sword deflecting her legs.

Trish leapt forward again with an ear-splitting screech of fury, trying to pin Siegfried down, but this time he was ready. With a swiftness that belied his heavy build, Sieg jumped aside, deftly avoiding a string and cutting another before touching the ground. He lunged straight at her again before she could lift herself up and out of reach.

Trish's eyes widened, and in a desperate attempt to escape slash, she pulled on a string connecting her abdomen to the wall, jerking herself backwards.

She managed to preserve her life but still received deep cuts in both her arms as she shielded her chest with them. The half-spider, half-woman hit the wall and climbed backwards vertically, screaming at Siegfried with boundless hatred as he gave chase.

She jumped from the wall, arms and legs spread wide to negate any chance of him evading while in full charge.

Alas, evading was never Siegfried's plan.

He used his momentum and strength to throw his own sword. The blade pierced Trish's sternum and went through until the hilt hit her breastbone, the force halting her mid-air.

The weight of her armoured rear cracked the wooden floor.

Blood spluttered from the spider-woman's mouth as she stared with unbelieving eyes at Siegfried, who yanked out the sword and decapitated her in one swift motion.

'Impossible' was the word that hung in Hall's mind as he stared at Siegfried in awe. "How can you even move like that? You must be as fast as those of the Red Brigade…"

"No, he's not," Bolverk replied, limping into the light. "He is at the pinnacle of what a human body could be capable of, both in movement and reaction speed. But he is still human. An enforcer could have rushed by that monster and slain her in the blink of an eye."

"Regardless," Hall turned to Siegfried again, "thank you for saving my life. I could have died there any moment… I barely held on with defending and no chance to counter at all," he admitted bleakly.

Siegfried eyed the nicks and dents in his sword with a grimace before sheathing it. "We were lucky that Bol has such a thick skull. I’m sure that thing thought him unconscious," he explained, ignoring the spluttering of the older guardsman.

"And we were lucky to have a swordsman like you with us," Sieg added with a respectful nod. "While I was trapped in that web, I saw you fighting that horror of a changeling. Not only your skill but your resolve. You never gave up, never wavered, no matter how hopeless the situation."

Siegfried offered his arm and pulled Hall to his feet. "You are more than qualified to have our back, and I'm sorry I thought less of you before," he stated.

Hall was flabbergasted. He fished for words in his mind, but before he could voice them, Bolverk interrupted.

"If yer two are done with lickin' each other's boots, we still have one injured and one missing!"

†††Siegfried†††

Brought down from the high of the fight again, Siegfried nodded somberly.

With each step they took down the corridor, his heart grew heavier. The immediate threat was dealt with, but the next sight of horror awaited them just ahead.

Held up by strings of web was Agnar's breathless body. Riddled with countless small holes, bleeding to a puddle on the floor. Two deep holes, the size of the changeling's fangs, were visible at his neck. Black ooze was covering the wound — likely a paralysing poison.

Bolverk visibly fought with his tears as they stood before their friend of many years.

Siegfried cut him down, and they allowed themselves a moment of silence. "We still have to check the rest of the house… at least find the children's bodies if there is anything left."

"Yer right, Sieg. Svana should've bandaged Rik by now, and they'll be fine. Watch yer steps — could still be traps further in." Bolverk replied, his raspy voice full of grief but also grim resolution. They ventured farther into the house, and checked each room until they reached the basement.

The spider webs were so densely spread that they looked like a white wall of cotton. "Guess we found the true lair…," Siegfried muttered before they started cutting their way through the net, cautious of more surprises.

When Bolverk cried out wordlessly, Sieg feared the worst. "I'm coming, Bol!" he shouted.

"Stay where ya are, boys! Everything's okay over here… I just found our missing people. No need for you to see this." From how sick even the seasoned veteran guard sounded, both Siegfried and Hall opted to follow the advice. "Well, our job's done here. Let's get out of that hellhole."

"Wait, Bolverk! I found something here" Hall's voice came from the far side of the basement. When his companions reached him, he had already drawn his sword. "Eggshells from at least seven different eggs." He calmly explained.

"They are fresh. How could a being like her even get pregnant around here?" Siegfried asked.

"The boy…" Bolverk said. "And afterwards, he was food for her first brood. What a shit show."

Hall fought against the bile coming up his throat. "There is an opening in the wall behind. The stone stairs are full of dust and several tiny prints leading out. Should we follow them or leave?" he asked Bolverk, who furrowed his brows, lips pursed in distaste.

This wasn't their job, and they had already lost Agnar. But a bunch of spider monsters growing up somewhere in the city were an immense threat. As he surmised that their poison wasn't lethal but only paralysing, they could be dealt with while still young. "Stay vigilant," he responded, drawing his own sword.

They followed the stairs up into a shack at the back of the house above the ground. It was empty except for a few tools, and there was no space to hide. The tiny pricks in the dust continued over the wall to a small window. Opening the door, they walked out onto a more prominent street of cobblestone, leading in three directions between the buildings. "Shit…" Bolverk hissed, sheathing his sword. "We pick up Svana 'n Rik and take the fastest route to the next guardhouse. Need to get word to the uppers."

Chapter 3

†††Hall†††

Hall walked at the back of the group, keeping a respectful distance.

Eirik had lost blood but was in good enough condition to move, leaning on Siegfried's shoulder.

Bolverk engaged them in discussions and the occasional banter, but it was apparent that their hearts weren’t in it. Their steps were heavy, and the mood was subdued by the heavy blanket of death.

It felt awkward to be the only one not grieving, and Hall wished they could arrive earlier at their destination. Until Svana, who walked slightly to the left of everyone, started to slow until she was right next to him.

Hall’s pulse started to quicken as he desperately racked his brain for something to say. Empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and he hardly felt anything about Agnar’s death. Luckily Svana saved him by initiating the conversation.

“You fought admirably today, Hall,” she said without looking at him.

Her face hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair, Hall had no way of judging her emotions. His own face took a slight blush at the thought of Svana watching him, but it should have been obvious. Bollverk’s lantern had been the only source of light in the corridor, so where else should she have looked?

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much help back there,” she added, giving him a lopsided smile that formed a cute dimple on her cheek.

Hall was stunned for a moment, caught by the vision that was Svanas face. He forced his own eyes up front again, a hand on the pommel of his sword as if it could ground him again. "Bolverk was right. This wasn't your job, a guard's job,” he said with conviction. “Any of us could have easily lost our life fighting that monstrosity. Being frightened when confronted with a natural predator is a normal reaction. Just proves that you are mentally healthy." The last sentence was added with a self-conscious smile on his lips as he faced the young woman again.

Svana arched her brows at that before her gaze softened. "Maybe. But I was really impressed by you there,” she said with a slight tinkle to her eyes. “Your bravery and skill with the sword are admirable for your,” she stopped for a breath, cocking her head, “sixteen or maybe seventeen years?" A mischievous grin slowly crept upon her lips.

"Uh, I'm sixteen..." Hall answered, fighting the urge to scratch the back of his head.

Svana's smile widened. "Sixteen, how convenient, right above the legal age in Nemeah," she stirred his emotional cocktail further.

"Oh, go get a room, you two," Eirik interrupted, inducing a fit of good-hearted laughter from the whole group and saving Hall from having to reply.

Svana sped up her steps to rejoin the others, and Hall failed to keep his gaze from wandering over her shapely rear. He forced his eyes closed, only to see her dazzling smile in his mind. A fuzzy feeling fluttered alive in his stomach, and while it irritated him to lose his focus, he couldn’t bring himself to care.