Novel Excerpts

Call-Ru Comes Calling

            Daniel felt sick. He hadn’t stopped feeling sick for a week now. A disease that seemed to have no cure, his only treatment was the large cylinder in front of him. His fists pounding into it, harder and harder as he thought about what he had said, and what he wished he had said. The punching bag trembled under his blows, but he still felt as though he wasn’t punching hard enough. 

            Someone entered Daniel’s field of vision. “You should stop,” Grayling said, barely visible in his peripherals. “There’s not much reason to beat yourself up over a girl.”

            “It wasn’t just a girl,” Daniel said, taking one last punch. He stopped, turning towards the cloaked figure. 

            Grayling came closer, grabbing the bag to stop it from swaying. “I thought the same thing,” he said quietly. “But it was worse for me. It wasn’t that she didn’t want me, she did. But she was killed.” His voice was steady, but on the verge of breaking. He punched upwards, sending the bag swinging in a wild arc that nearly pulled it off of the hook. “It was Call-Ru. That’s why I keep chasing him. That’s why, if I find him, he’s dead. He is a dead goblin walking.” 

            “I’m sorry,” Daniel said, putting a hand on Grayling’s shoulder. 

            “Don’t be sorry, and don’t be stupid,” Grayling said, pushing his hand off. His voice was calm again. “You have to snap out of it, Daniel. Maybe you can’t see it, but I can. The only reason she’s staying away is because she thinks you want it. And the only reason she said what she did is because she’s falling in love with you. The fear of losing a young love can be greater than the pain of that loss.” Grayling stopped the bag, looking at Daniel. “Now, Daniel, which will you choose? Lillian or the bag?” He raised his hands toward the door and the bag in turn. “It’s your choice. If you choose the bag, I won’t bother you again. I promise.”

            “I don’t want a bag,” Daniel said, a smile beginning to break over his face. “I want Lillian. Thanks, Grayling.”

            Grayling’s voice contained the hint of a smile. “Trust me, it’s a pleasure. Go, Daniel. You pursue her, and don’t ever let her get away.”

            “I won’t, don’t worry,” Daniel said, pulling off his gloves and tossing them onto the counter. As he rushed out the door, he bumped into Lancelot. Daniel barely stopped moving, pushing around his best friend and sprinting to the door. “Sorry, gotta go!” he yelled back.

            His feet barely touched the ground as he ran. He skidded to a stop in front of the walk to Lillian’s house, panting slightly. He had forgotten to pace himself – a mistake he hadn’t made in years. His shoes tapped against the rocks that made up the short walkway to the porch. He silently walked up the porch stairs, the soft wood creaking under his weight. Pulling the screen door out of his way, he rapped his knuckles against the front door. Just as he was preparing to knock again, Lillian’s mother opened it. 

            “Hi, Mrs. Brown,” Daniel said, “Is Lillian home?” 

            “I think she’s up in her room. Why don’t you come inside while I check?” Daniel walked through the open door, into their living room. While he waited for Mrs. Brown and Lillian, he examined the pictures and knick-knacks on the mantle, grinning at a sculpture Lillian had made when she was much younger. It was done just after they had met in school. Originally, it was going to be a bird, but had slowly morphed into a monster with a beak-like mouth.

            The sound of feet on the stairs made him turn around, a half-smile of nervousness forming on his lips. “Hi, Daniel,” she said. His heart started pounding again, but it wasn’t because of the sprint.

            “Lillian,” he said. He hoped he said everything the right way. “I need to talk to you. Do you mind?” he said motioning to the door. 

            “Sure,” Lillian said, her lips mirroring Daniel’s nervous grin. “I’ll be right back,” she said to her mother, grabbing her jacket. She led the way outside, pulling it on as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

            “So, what’s this about?” Lillian asked.

            “Let’s get a little bit further away from anyone, if you don’t mind,” Daniel said. The autumn air bit into his skin, still soaked in sweat from his workout in the morning.

            “Okay,” Lillian said.

            The silence was nearly unbearable, unbroken except for the occasional car slipping past. Daniel cleared his throat. “Lillian,” he started, “What you asked me to promise you, it’s impossible.”

            She started to speak, but Daniel shook his head. “Let me finish, please.” He took a breath and continued. “You know Lancelot is my best friend. Well, he was raised by his grandmother, who taught him that, if he wanted to be a knight, like he did while growing up, he would have to practice chivalry. And that means to put the woman first, and to put yourself last. He taught that to me while we were growing up – he lives by it. It’s a part of who I am.

            “I like to say that I’m practical, that if you died, I’d be able to get over it. But if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t know. I mean, I’m not Romeo. If you died, I wouldn’t kill myself. But I know that if there was something I could have done to save you, and didn’t, it would destroy me. So, I understand. Maybe it’s better if we stay just friends, but I want you to know-“

            Lillian pressed a finger on his lips, silencing him. “My turn to talk, Daniel. I understand all of that, I really do. I said what I did because I thought I wasn’t strong enough to get close to someone, only to see them die. But I realized something. If I stay in this business, that’s could happen, no matter who I end up with. And Dan, I don’t think I want to end up with anyone else.” She stopped suddenly, like she had just revealed a huge secret, and wasn’t sure how Daniel would take it.

            “Well,” Daniel said slowly, “I’m not promising I’m going to marry you. But I’ve had a crush on you for years, Lillian. And even getting to know you through the ADRT hasn’t changed that, which makes me think that maybe there’s something more than a crush.”

            “I kept trying to tell you,” Lillian complained. “I wanted to tell you that I was sorry. But you kept pushing me aside and going back to that stupid punching bag.” She shook her head, brown hair swishing across her back. “Why did you keep punching that blasted bag, anyway?”

            Daniel thought for a second, then replied, “Pain on my hands was easier to deal with than pain on my heart.” As soon as he said it, he realized how true it really was. “I’m sorry, Lil. I shouldn’t ever have kept you away. Can you forgive me?”

            “Forgive you? Can you forgive me?” Lillian asked. “I shouldn’t have let my mouth run away from me. My feelings got away from me.”

            “Then let’s forgive each other,” Daniel said.

            Lillian considered. “Okay,” she said.

“Can I buy you lunch?” Daniel asked suddenly. “Like, right now?”

Lillian cocked her head, studying him. “Are you asking me out?”

Daniel thought for a second, then nodded. “Yes. I guess I am.”

“In that case,” Lillian said, taking his hand. “I guess I’ll say yes.”

)~(

            “I don’t understand the world,” Lancelot said, bringing his sword up to block Grayling’s. Almost absentmindedly, he brought his sword down swing below his opponent’s defenses. 

            “What about the world don’t you understand?” Grayling asked, his sword swishing as it moved to block Lancelot’s with a loud clack. 

            “Well, yesterday,” Lancelot stepped backwards, out of Grayling’s reach, “Daniel was obsessed with his punching bag. Today, I can barely get him to do anything related to training.”

            “Why do you think that is?” 

            “I have no idea.” Lancelot touched the point of his sword to the ground, nodding. “Seriously, his mood swings are insane.”

            “What’s different about today than yesterday?” Grayling asked, putting the sword back on the rack. 

            “Lil’s talking to him again, but what would that have to do with anything?”

            Grayling shook his head. “You must be blessed to be so blind. You have to tell me your secret.”

            “I don’t get it.”

            “If Isabelle stopped talking to you, what would you do?” 

            “Find out why,” Lancelot said, shrugging. 

            “Okay, but what if it was because she didn’t love you like you love her?” 

            Lancelot was silent for a while. “I don’t get it,” he finally said, and Grayling let out a groaning laugh. 

            “Let me try to explain it this way. Do you love Isabelle?”

            “Without a doubt,” Lancelot answered without hesitation. 

            “Daniel feels the same way about Lillian. A few days ago, though, she told him that she didn’t want to be close, because she was afraid of what would happen if he died.”

            “He loves Lil?” Lancelot considered. “I mean, I know he had a crush on her, that was obvious, but love?” He shook his head. “Love is way more just having a crush on someone. It’s commitment. There’s a sense of duty along with it.”

            “I would say that Daniel has that kind of love.” Grayling struggled for briefly, attempting to figure out how to explain it. “The type of love you’re talking about is based off of maturity. This stage might just be a precursor to what you’re talking about, but it is a stepping-stone to that maturity.”

            Lancelot nodded in understanding. “That makes sense.” He thought about his own relationship with Isabelle, trying to remember when it had turned from infatuation to love. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that,” he said.

            “We’re not all graced with the gift of being able to perceive relationship issues,” Grayling said. He laughed slightly. “Though, I will admit, you seem to have a negative portion of that grace.”

            Lancelot shrugged. “I can keep my own relationship together. I don’t really need to figure out other people’s relationships for them.”

            Grayling nodded. “Nor should you. Still, your comments make us laugh.”

            “I guess that’s a good thing, right?”

            “Yes. I-.” Grayling suddenly cut off and started forward, grabbing Lancelot by the shoulders. “Lancelot, listen to me. You have to go get Byron. He’s seeing Stephanie off. Take Larry if you have to, but get him!”

            He pushed Lancelot, and the young man stumbled backwards, nearly losing his balance. “I don’t understand,” Lancelot, and Grayling said something. Lancelot didn’t exactly know what it meant, but knew that it was a close approximation to several things that his grandmother would wash his mouth out for. “I’m going, I’m going,” he said, turning and tripping over his feet. 

            Grayling, rushing for the stairs, cursed again.

)~(

            “I’m going to miss you,” Byron said, pulling Stephanie into a hug. She returned it, letting go far sooner than Byron would have liked. 

            “I’ve got to go, Byron. Come and visit me.” She smiled. “You’re always welcome.”

            Byron nodded, grinning. “I’ll do that. After all -“

A shout cut off his flirtation comment. “Byron!” Byron turned, catching sight of Lancelot on Larry, flying towards him. “Grayling sent me,” he said, pulling to a stop beside the car. “We need to get back to the Nest right now. I don’t know why, but Grayling seemed to think that it was really important.”

            “Right,” Byron said, turning to Stephanie. “Duty ca-“

            “Get on!” Lancelot ordered harshly, and Byron winced. He scrambled up the Bonston, waving to Stephanie. A swift wind picked up, and Byron turned around, grabbing Lancelot for support.

            It took only a few minutes, but the time seemed interminable for Byron. They burst into the Nest to find Grayling sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. Elliot was watching him with curiosity.

            “What’s going on?” he asked once he saw them enter. “Grayling hasn’t said a thing since he came back downstairs.

            “Byron,” Grayling said, his head snapping toward the leader of the ADRT. “I’ve sensed a disruption. Call-Ru is closer than he’s ever been before. I believe we can catch him if we hurry.”

            Byron grabbed a sword from the rack by the door, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said. Grayling rose, putting a hand on Byron’s shoulder.

            “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone,” he said. His hand, sheathed in a gray glove, was beginning glow slightly. “Watch over the town until we return.”

            Lancelot watched, gapemouthed, as Grayling’s entire body joined in the steady glow. The intensity soon was so great that it hurt to look at. Then, faster than the blink of an eye, the two men were gone, and Elliot and Lancelot were left staring at empty space.

            “My word,” Elliot said. “Grayling’s been holding out on us.”

)~(

            Lillian turned to Daniel, grinning from her perch in the oak. “Come on, the view’s great!” she called, and Daniel shook his head. 

            “Nah, I’m good.” He leaned against a tree, watching Lillian as she clambered through the branches with ease. He knew that he could have climbed just as fast, if not faster, but he didn’t feel up to it. He had finally decided to take the break that Byron had suggested. Once he had started, his muscled had shown him how tired they were. Lillian kept teasing him about it, constantly moving to show that she was in perfect health.

            Lillian called down again. “Daniel, I think a portal opened. My head hurts.”

            “Okay, come down,” Daniel said. “But be careful, for goodness sake. You know how dizzy you get when a portal opens.”

            “I know,” Lillian sighed, carefully climbing down. She dropped the last few feet, Daniel catching her with a grunt. 

            “You’re a lot lighter than I expected,” he said, smiling at her. “I could easily carry you down if I wanted to.” 

            “I don’t want you to, though,” Lillian said,, trying to get her feet on the ground. “Set me down, please. My head’s already clearing up.” 

            “So, no more people are coming through?” Daniel guessed.

            “No, it’s beyond that,” Lillian said, rubbing her temples. “It feels like Grayling is pulling it closed.” She dropped one hand, still feeling her right temple, as if she was a psychic. “I can still follow it, though.”

            “I don’t know,” Daniel replied. “We don’t know what we’re up against. We should go back to the Nest and get the others.”

            “But if it’s Grayling, then we’ll be fine,” Lillian replied. “And if worst comes to worst, it’s only a small group. The portal wasn’t open long enough for more than four or five people.”

            Daniel let out a sigh. “Okay. But just reconnaissance. We go in, we take a look, and if it’s more than we can deal with, we get out of there.”

            “Exactly what I was thinking,” Lillian said. “We just need to know what we’re up against.” She closed her eyes for a second, then chose a direction. Daniel followed at a quick run through the still forest. He touched his hips, hissing when he realized he didn’t have them. He had taken them off when he had gone back with Lillian to her house – her mother didn’t like those kinds of knives. Adrenaline started to fill his body, and he hoped that they wouldn’t be needed.

            They ran for several minutes in silence, until Lillian slowed outside a large clearing. She ducked behind a tree, glancing into the open area. “The portal is just sitting there,” she said, pulling on a portal glove. “I’m going to go for it.” She slid around the tree, creeping into the clearing.

Daniel, hiding behind a tree further back, was about to move, when he spotted a flash of movement. His shout of warning was cut off by Lillian’s scream. The figure pulled her out of his line of vision before he could get a good glimpse.

            A deep voice, seemingly raspy with age, hissed, “You wouldn’t want to be taking my only way home, now would you? After all, if you had taken it, I would have to kill you.” There was a low chuckle. “Now tell me. Who do you work for, and where is the rest of your team?” 

            “Who are you?” Lillian cried, trying to struggle to her feet. Daniel crept forward, so that he could see the creature. It wore a tight bodysuit, completely black. The back of his head was dark green, like an unripe pumpkin, as were his thick hands. A heavy boot kept Lillian pinned to the ground.

            “I am the Warlord Call-Ru,” the goblin replied, drawing a sword from a sheath across his back. “Now, my questions. Your team, and are there are many more of you?” 

            Daniel’s hand dropped to his knife, but then remembered that they were gone. He looked around him for something to use as a weapon, but all of the dead limbs looked rotted or far too large to be useful. Trying to keep his calm, he slid his portal gloves on.

            Lillian shouted defiantly, “I belong to the ADRT. We’ve beaten you before, and we’ll beat you again, Call-Ru. And I came out alone.”

            “Excellent. Then I’m in the right place.” Call-Ru laughed. “It took years for the portals to line up just right, but here I am, without your precious Grayling to protect you.” He heaved a sigh. “However, your friend breaths far too loudly for your lie to work.”

            The goblin turned, facing Daniel for the first time. “Come out and join us, won’t you?” he asked. Daniel was surprised at how normal he looked. Instead of a hideous monster he was expecting, he looked like most of the goblins Daniel had seen, albeit how few they were. There was a scar on his right cheek, and the words ‘Mad Bull was here’ were cut into his bodysuit. Otherwise, he looked fairly typical: a small nose, ears that seemed like fish fins, and scale-like skin, all of which were the same shade of dark green.

            “First off,” Daniel said, stepping forward, “Let me say how please I am to meet you.” He regulated his breathing, trying to remain calm. “Second,” he dove for the portal, scooping it up as Call-Ru rushed forward. He rolled to his feet, running for the edge of the woods. “Run, Lil! Run!”

            Call-Ru ignored him as he fled, grabbing Lillian’s neck as she tried to scramble away. “How stupid,” he said, calling after Daniel, who paused at the edge of the woods. “You try to sacrifice yourself for her, but she still ends up caught.” Call-Ru shook Lillian, lifting her off the ground. “Now, I have her. And what are you going to do?” He paused, but only briefly. “I’ll tell you. Nothing. You’re going to sit there and watch me leave with her. Now, put the portal on the ground.”

            “Give me her, and I’ll give you the portal,” Daniel said, holding up the glowing orb.

            Call-Ru laughed slightly, lifting his sword. “Very well. Put the portal down, and I’ll give you the girl.”

            Daniel was frozen for a second, uncertain. The tense silence was broken by Lillian shouting, “Don’t do it! He’ll just kill both of us!”

“Shut up, girl!” Call-Ru said, throwing her away, into a thick trunked oak. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. Call-Ru’s eyes narrowed on Daniel. “Give me the portal, boy!” he hissed.

Daniel screamed back, a boiling rage heating up inside of him. Then the conversation with Lillian came to his mind, and instead of doing as he was instructed, he spun on his heel, sprinting back the way he had come. Call-Ru cursed, and started after him, leaving Lillian slumped.

            Daniel recognized this area now – it was near a trail he had used many times over the past few days. He followed it as it wound through the woods but took a right when it forked to the left. The trail ended, as did the ground, in a sharp bluff. He slid to a stop, and stood for a second, turning to face the oncoming warlord.

“I’m sorry, Lillian,” he called softly, then dove over the edge of the bluff.

            Call-Ru cursed again as he watched Daniel roll down the hill. “Fine, then, ADRT,” he said quietly. “Let it begin.”

)~(

            Daniel collapsed onto the floor of the Nest, the portal ball slipping from his ringing fingers. He clutched at his sides. The desperate run had left him burnt, but he could hardly breath.

            “Daniel?” Elliot asked, pushing away from his chair so quickly that it tipped over. The bang echoed through Daniel’s head, the trace beginnings of a headache.

            “What happened?” Lancelot asked, dropping the fruit that he was playing with and running.

            “Call-Ru,” Daniel gasped. “He got Lillian. I got the portal.” He rolled into a ball, trying to block out the tears. “Dear… He got Lillian.”

            “Keep breathing,” Elliot said, his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Just keep breathing.” He waved at Lancelot. “Get him water! Now!”

            “We have to stop him,” Daniel said, uncurling. “He’s going to kill her.” He clutched at Elliot. “We can’t let that happen.”

            “We won’t,” Elliot replied. “I promise. Just keep breathing, Daniel.” He looked up as Lancelot ran back, carrying a water bottle. He uncapped it, then handed it down to Daniel, who began to guzzle it down.

            “What do we do?” Lancelot asked as Elliot stood up, watching Daniel closely.

            Instead of answering, Elliot asked, “Where was he, Daniel?”

            Daniel gestured, trying to think of the name. “That bluff, just past Bower’s field. You know that trail through there? He was in the area.”

            “Okay,” Elliot said. “Look, we’re alone. Byron and Grayling are somewhere else, searching for Call-Ru, actually.” He ran a hand through his hair, taking short, controlled breaths. He caught Lancelot’s eyes. “We go after him. We can’t leave Lillian out there.”

            Lancelot nodded, his face turning hard. He marched to the weapon’s rack, retrieving his favorite sword. “Then let’s get our girl back,” he said. “I’ll get Larry.”

            Elliot sighed. “I wish that wasn’t the best choice,” he said, following Lancelot into the stable, grabbing an axe on his way out. “Stay here, Daniel,” he ordered.

            They rode in silence over the rolling fields of Callsboro, not that the wind would have allowed for much to be heard. Determined expressions were mirrored on both faces, knowing that they were going to be facing something that they had never experienced before.

            Ahead, they could see the bluff blocking the horizon. Standing in the middle was a dark figure, who remained motionless, even as they began the ascent. Once they reached the top, it turned and walked away, toward the woods.

            “Call-Ru!” Lancelot shouted, as Elliot slid down the side of Larry. “Give us back Lillian!”

            The goblin turned, the scar of his face prominent against the dark green. “Did you bring my portal?” he asked.

            “You’re not going to need it,” Lancelot said. “This is where you die.”

             Call-Ru snorted, unsheathing two swords from across his back. “Bold words. Well, then, come at me. But bear in mind, if you come too close, I will kill your friend.”

            Lancelot’s eyes drifted to where Call-Ru motioned. A slumped figure hung from a tree, dangling from her wrists. “Lillian!” he shouted. He spurred Larry forward, only to have Call-Ru put a sword up to her side.

            “Bad idea, boy,” he hissed.

            Lancelot’s eyes narrowed, and he let Larry continue walking. He pulled short as Call-Ru thrust the sword into her side. Lillian let out a scream, sending goosebumps rippling across Lancelot’s arms. Call-Ru withdrew the sword, now red with blood. “It’s not fatal,” he said. “But if you come closer, it will be.”

            Lancelot unstrapped his legs. “Take me,” he said. “Let her go, and I will willingly come with you.”

            “I don’t want a willing prisoner,” Call-Ru scoffed. “You’re much too much trouble. I can tell just by looking at you.”

            Elliot let out a roar uncharacteristic of his usual quiet manner. As Call-Ru turned to look at him, he heard a loud whupping noise. Elliot’s axe caught him on the arm, throwing him backwards.

            Lancelot clapped his feet on Larry’s flanks, sending him forward. With a broad stroke, he swept through Call-Ru’s neck. He turned around, expecting to see the headless goblin crumple to the ground. Instead, Call-Ru was pulling out the axe, cursing as blood leaked from his side.

            “You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, throwing down his swords, and sticking a hand toward Elliot. Elliot prepared himself for an attack but was surprised when nothing happened. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit him.

            “Lancelot?” Elliot said, dropping to his knees, and staring in shock. “Wha-what’s happening?”

            Call-Ru grinned maliciously, throwing out his other hand and catching Lancelot before he could move. In the same way as with Elliot, he felt his energy get sucked away, and he slid to the ground.

            “Goodbye, ADRT,” Call-Ru said, laughing scornfully as both tried to move, but found that they suddenly had no strength. They were getting weaker by the minute, and Elliot knew he wouldn’t last long.

            With a sudden roar, the side of the bluff erupted as a vehicle catapulted through it. Dirt flying, it ripped through the ground, plowing into Call-Ru and carried him into a tree. Call-Ru was driven through the trunk, the entire tree falling on the Suburban.

            The driver’s side door popped open, and Daniel fell out. He had avoided being crushed by only a hair, but didn’t seem to notice. “Lillian!” he shouted, pulling himself around the back of the car and stumbling toward the tree where Lillian was hanging.

            Taking out his knife, he reached up and cut the rope, supporting her as she fell.  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said, half-supporting, half-carrying her toward Larry.

            Elliot dragged himself to his feet. His energy hadn’t completely returned, but he felt at least a little better. He could see Lancelot also pulling himself up. “Lancelot,” he ordered, “Take Lillian back to the Nest,” He winced as he walked. “Daniel, we need to follow them.”

            Daniel looked over at him. “Why?” he asked, as Lancelot reached them and took Lillian from him. He motioned to the wreck. “It’s over. Call-Ru’s finished.”

            “I don’t think it’s that easy,” Elliot said, nervously glancing at the last place he had seen Call-Ru. “I saw Lancelot cut Call-Ru’s head off, but the sword just went through. It didn’t hurt him at all.”

            Lancelot lifted Lillian onto the Bonston. “He’s right, Daniel. We need to wait for Grayling and Byron. If he’s dead, there’s nothing to worry about. If he’s alive, then there’s nothing we can do against him.” He pulled himself behind Lillian. Elliot noticed that he looked as near death as Elliot felt, though still somehow managed to continue to act as if he had all the energy in the world.

            “He what?” Daniel asked, glancing at the wreck with a dismissive snort. “You can’t be serious.”

            From deep within the twisted metal, something started to creak. “Go!” Elliot shouted at Lancelot, stumbling for the edge of the bluff.

            The battered remains of the vehicle blew outwards, following their earlier tracks. Larry bolted, hurtling away down the narrow path on the bluff. Both Daniel and Elliot dove out of the way, barely avoiding the massive wreck as it blew by. The front end was ripped open, as if someone had tossed a grenade into the engine and closed the hood.

            Lying on the edge of the bluff, Elliot could see where the tree once stood. The grass surrounding it was gone, as was most of the topsoil. The roots were exposed, stripped of their bark. In the center of the explosion, crouching low, was Call-Ru.

            Without hesitating, Elliot rolled over the edge of the bluff, hoping that Call-Ru wouldn’t notice him, and that Daniel would follow. He slid down toward the ruined suburban, losing grip on the axe. He caught himself before he ran into the jagged metal, then pulled himself underneath, attempting to hide if Call-Ru was looking for him. He sucked in a tight breath as a piece of glass caught his shoulder, but remained quiet.

            He heard a noise from the opposite side of the vehicle, and half-turned his head. Daniel had apparently had the same idea and was squirming underneath a precarious piece of metal.

            “What is that… That thing?” Daniel hissed, pulling the rest of his body under cover.

            “Apparently, Call-Ru,” Elliot whispered back, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Trolls, goblins, elves – he could deal with those. But creatures that couldn’t be killed? Where would it end? “Keep quiet and let’s hope we can get out of here,” he finally said.

            Daniel forced air through clenched teeth. “I can see him,” he murmured. “But I don’t think he can see us.”

            Elliot turned his head back up, but couldn’t see anything past the mess of metal in front of his eyes. “Just stay quiet,” he said softly. He could feel the glass digging into his shoulder, but ignored it for the moment.

            “He’s coming down!” Daniel warned, trying to press further underneath the metal.

            Elliot felt his pulse quicken, but forced himself to keep breathing slowly. He felt, more than heard, the impact of the boots next to his side of the car. He turned his head, and saw Call-Ru’s legs. Time froze, and Elliot’s heart stopped beating. Then the legs moved, and began to run across the field.

            After a few minutes, Elliot forced himself to relax. “We need to try and get out of here,” he said, looking over at Daniel.

            “I agree,” Daniel replied. He poked his head out from under the wreck. “He’s running towards the town, and it doesn’t look like he’s turning around.”

            “Okay,” Elliot pulled himself out of the wreckage. He surveyed the area, watching Call-Ru sprint across the field. He picked up the ax from where it had embedded itself into the soft ground, and swung it determinedly. “We can’t stop him,” he said nodding toward the dark figure. “But we might be able to slow him down until Grayling gets back.”

            Daniel glanced at him, then nodded. “Okay.” He began to run, limping slightly. He let out a shout of annoyance. “We’re not going to get anywhere like this,” he said, disgusted.

            “No,” Elliot agreed. He pointed across the field to the left. “I think there’s a house with a car over there.”

            “Yeah, because they’re going to give us a car if we smile and say please,” Daniel said, still struggling to move quickly.

            “No, but they’ll probably give us a ride. Or let us call Lancelot.”

            Daniel considered. “Good point.” He changed directions. “Let’s go.”

)~(

            Lancelot lay Lillian down on the couch, spinning around and rushing back to the training pit. He dug through the cabinets, trying to find as many medical supplies as he could. He ran through the first aid that Byron had taught them.

            “Stitches? Sutures? What do I need?” he muttered. Disinfectant, he knew that. He gathered everything he could, and sprinted back, laying it on the floor. “Okay, Lil,” he said, carefully lifting her shirt so that he could see the wound. “I don’t know what I’m looking at here, but I know we have to put pressure on that.”

            Lancelot looked at her face. She was unconscious, which he assumed was a blessing. But that could also be a bad thing, right? He began to press the bandages against the damage, not knowing if what he was doing was right or not.

            “I can’t risk it,” he finally decided. “You’re going to the hospital, Lil.” He pushed away from her and stumbled to the phone. Nervously, he dialed 911, watching Lillian as the operator answered.

            “911, what’s your emergency?”

            Lancelot took a deep breath, and began to explain as calmly as he could. As he finished giving his address, he heard a pounding on the door. He looked at it, grabbing the hilt of his sword. “Oh, no,” he whispered. “I need to go. Send an ambulance, send the police, send whatever. But get them here!”

            As he finished his desperate request, the door burst open, splintering into pieces as it did so. Framed in the doorway stood Call-Ru, looking worse for the wear. While his skin was still unblemished, except for the scar, his suit was patched with massive holes. Lancelot drew his sword, watching the goblin.

            “Hello,” Call-Ru said, his voice deep and chilling. He stepped forward, reaching out a hand.

            “I invoke the right of the trial by combat, as put forth by Nigroc the Strong, leader of the goblins upon Foray!” Lancelot shouted, his words slurring together. Somehow, they were understood.

            “And what thinks that gives you any sway over me?” Call-Ru asked. “Do I appear as one from Foray?”

            “No, but as a warlord, it is your duty-“

            Call-Ru laughed. “Warlord. Duty. What are those to me, boy?” He stalked forward, Lancelot holding out his sword in a defensive position. “I will tell you. They are nothing. The title warlord has been stripped from my name, as has any ‘duty’ that comes with it.” He threw out a hand, and Lancelot felt an invisible force push him back. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling.

            “I am more than you can imagine, little thing,” Call-Ru hissed, walking closer. “Even at your strongest, you will never come close to my weakest.”

            Lancelot snorted. “Is that what you told Mad Bull?” he asked.

            In response, Call-Ru roared and threw out his hand again, this time throwing Lancelot across the room. “Even he could not defeat me,” he said angrily, putting out a hand. Lancelot felt the strength – what little he had – begin slide away.

            “You are a worm compared to me,” Call-Ru said. “A worm who’s very life I will take from you, in order to feed my own.”

            Lancelot gathered the remainder of his strength, and forced himself to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily and lifted the sword. “This… Worm…,” he said, fighting not to collapse, “Has… Teeth.” As he fell forward, he threw the sword, burying it into Call-Ru’s chest. The warlord stumbled backwards, staring at it in disbelief. Lancelot felt a little energy come back into him, but it wasn’t much. He pushed himself up and began to stumble toward the stable.

            He could hear the sirens, but as if he was under water. The room swayed, but he pressed forward, tripping through the training room. Behind him, Call-Ru pulled out the sword from his chest and threw it away. He began to walk quickly after Lancelot, ignoring Lillian’s limp form on the couch.

            “Larry!” Lancelot shouted as he pushed through the stable door. “Come on, boy. Come on.” He grabbed the side of the saddle, but was unable to pull himself on.

            The door creaked open behind him. “Footloose!” he shouted, holding on tightly to the saddle. He was pulled along as Larry bolted from the stable, away from Call-Ru.

            The sinister figure continued to follow at a leisurely pace, waiting for Lancelot to let go. Lancelot clutched the straps as tightly as he could, knowing that he fell off, it would be the end. He had no idea where he was going, just that it was away from the monster that was chasing him.

)~(

            Elliot slapped the dashboard. “Stop! Stop!” he demanded.

            The driver, an older man named Frank, slammed on the brakes. Elliot and Daniel pushed open their doors and ran out, toward the Bonston sprinting in the distance.

            “Oh, please, get here soon, Grayling,” Daniel whispered, drawing out his knives.

            Elliot bellowed to the figure being dragged across the ground. “Lancelot! Stop!”

            At the other end of the field, near the Nest, Call-Ru could be seen, his pace quickened slightly.

            “What in tarnation is going on?” Frank asked behind them.

            Elliot ignored him and rushed toward Lancelot. He had put his ax away while asking for a ride, but now wished he had something. “We need to get Lancelot out of here,” he shouted at Daniel, who was already ahead.

            “I know!” Daniel shouted back. “Larry can’t take both of us. You take Frank and get out of here. I’ll take Larry, and we’ll go somewhere. Draw Call-Ru off.”

            “Okay,” Elliot said, stopping slowing and turning around.

            Daniel continued his run. He didn’t know how much longer he could go. He had been pushed to his limits before, but this was beyond even those boundaries. He touched the pocket that he had put the portal in, wondering if he could trap Call-Ru somehow.

            Larry slowed down as he saw Daniel approaching. Lancelot’s grip finally failed, and he slumped against the ground. “Come on,” Daniel said, lifting Lancelot. “I can’t have you dying on me now.”

            Call-Ru was beginning to run now. Daniel lifted the groggy Lancelot to his feet, and helped him get into the saddle. Then, wearily, he pulled himself behind his friend.

            “Larry, footloose,” he ordered, and the Bonston ran off again. Without any other ideas, Daniel began to lead him toward the clearing where Call-Ru had originally appeared.

            Behind them, Call-Ru continued his fierce run. Thankfully, he wasn’t as fast as Larry, but he was far faster than anything Daniel or Lancelot would have been able to put forward, even at peak strength.

            Larry’s hooves hammered a rhythm into the ground, a beat which Daniel’s heart mimicked. The scenery blurred in the corner of his eyes, and all he could see was the point of land between Larry’s ears.

            His eyes were going in and out of focus, and for the briefest of seconds, he thought he saw Grayling and Byron standing on the edge of the bluff, looking over the city. He blinked, and looked again, only to find that they were standing there, examining the wreck below.

            Instantly, a feeling of energy rushed over him, and he perked up, shouting, “Grayling! Byron! I’m down here!”

            Almost instantly, the cloaked figure jumped off the bluff, cloth billowing around him. He landed in a crouched position, then stood up slowly. “I’m sorry for not being here,” Grayling called to Daniel, who had slowed. “We followed Call-Ru, only to find that he had taken the opportunity raised by our absence to get to all of you.”

            “Just finish it, Grayling,” Daniel said. “Just finish it!”

            Grayling nodded, taking a few steps forward and throwing back his hood. Daniel gaped in shock. Grayling’s entire head, which had been hidden for the entirety that Daniel had known him, was pure white and glowed with unearthly light.

            “Call-Ru!” Grayling bellowed. “Reaper in the Order of Veign. You, as our Brother, stand condemned.”

            Call-Ru, now close enough to be in earshot, continued to walk forward, unsheathing his swords as he did so. “Ah, Bonthor. I wondered when you would appear.”

            Grayling shed his cloak. Everywhere that his clothing did not cover glowed, and even through some of the thinner pieces of cloth, a muted light could be seen. “Call-Ru, once my friend, and now my most bitter of enemies,” Grayling continued. “You who tricked your way into the Brotherhood of Reapers, who stole the right from another, you stand condemned.”

            “Of course, read my sins to me, Bonthor,” Call-Ru scoffed. “Explain why it is you must kill me. Appease your conscience. You have attempted before, do not forget. And, as before, you will fail again.”

            “I am not the scared boy you left trembling at the side of his dead lover, whom you killed,” Grayling continued, his voice fierce. “I am not the angry young Hood who you bested upon the plains of Horith. No, Call-Ru, I stand before you today as a Grim, leader of the Order of Horith.”

            Call-Ru’s confident expression faltered. “Impossible,” he said. “You are so young!”

            “Then imagine what power I must have,” Grayling said coldly. “I stand before you as your executioner, Call-Ru. You have already been tried and found guilty. And now, know you will die by the hand of Bonthor Alekit, Grim Reaper of Horith.” The light around him seemed to grow in brilliance, and he lifted his hands.

            Call-Ru lifted his swords, crossing the blades as if trying to block something. Daniel could see his face stretched in horror, as if knowing what was to come. “No,” Call-Ru whispered. His voice grew in volume. “Bonthor, no! Have mercy on me, Grim!”

            “Mercy?” Grayling said, his voice as if it were made of ice. “I will show you the same mercy that you gave to Sillith and the million others you slaughtered!”

            With the final word, Call-Ru’s arms broke open, and he stumbled to his knees, his chest thrust out, as if there were rope attached to his heart, the end of which, Grayling held.

            “Just like those whose lives you have taken,” Grayling thundered, “So shall happen to you. The Reaper will be reaped – the unmaker unmade! For this is our task, to rid the realms of scum like you! You have perverted our mission and our cause, and you do not deserve the title of Reaper. Begone with you!”

            With a final scream that lingered in the air, Call-Ru disintegrated into black ash. For a second, it pulled toward Grayling, then caught the wind and scattered in a crooked circle around the place that Call-Ru had only minutes before stood, defiantly confident of his superiority.

            Daniel’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. “What… What are you?” he asked.

            Grayling turned his steely gaze onto Daniel. “I am a Grim, Daniel. A Grim Reaper.”

            “You mean, like Death?” Daniel asked, his heart racing. He wondered who had been working with for all this time.

            “In a sense,” Grayling agreed. “Come. I believe I owe an explanation to everyone.”

            “No,” Daniel said. “No, you need to tell me what you are, and what you did to… to him.” He motioned to the ash, still settling onto the grass.

            “What he and I are, Reapers,” Grayling explained, “We are able to take the energy out of other sources and put it into ourselves. I drained him of all the energy he possessed. Only Grim, like myself, is able to do to such a degree that even his body collapses.”

            “Then why do you hide that?” Daniel asked. “If you had all that power, why not use it?”

            “I have my reasons,” Grayling said. “I need you to trust me on that. Now, come. We need to get back to the Nest. All of you need rest. When we are all gathered, I will explain myself in full.”

)~(

As Grayling descended into the main area of the Nest, he took a deep breath. Nothing felt as good as freedom. Call-Ru was gone. While the others ate and rested, he had taken the time to reflect on what had happened. He had allowed himself to mourn the losses that Call-Ru had inflicted and rejoice that he was finally gone.

            For years, the knowledge that Call-Ru existed, roaming the worlds and killing had made Grayling focused. But it had so focused him that he couldn’t see past it. Even the glory of being a Grim at such a young age hadn’t filled him with excitement. His life always returned to the removal of Call-Ru from the realms.

            And so, Grayling was satisfied. His entire life purpose had been fulfilled. But with that fulfillment, it left a void of what to do next. Not for lack of options, but instead of how to choose between those options.

            A cough brought him back to awareness. “We’re all here,” Daniel said. “Except for Lillian, of course.” He looked worried – not surprising, as the sword thrust was a serious matter.

            Grayling looked around at the team. They were strong. Even battered as they were, they had never given up on trying to defeat the goblin. This team, he might even call friends. It was strange, he knew. Reapers hardly, if ever, grew emotionally attached to anyone. But he had done so twice now. First with Sillith, now with these humans. 

            “I’m a Reaper,” he said, nodding. It seemed a good place to start. “We are powerful creatures, able to take the energy of others and use it for ourselves. As you might have been able to guess, Call-Ru was also a Reaper. However, he’s not like me. I was born one, he was made one. I’ll explain what that means in a few minutes.

 “I was born an Alekit, which is extremely renowned in our world. Because of this, I received the highest amount of training from the time I was born, until I was old enough to join the ranks of an Order. I chose the Order of Horith, along with my best friend, Sillith Queren. She and I were to be married after I completed the first round of training, when I was at a Brother status.”

Grayling shook his head. “You don’t understand this, do you?” Watching them mumble and shrug, Grayling knew he was right. “There are three orders of Reapers, Veign, Horith and Zaydon, with four levels in each one. The levels are as such: Acolyte, the lowest, meaning you’re in training, Brother, which is a full-fledged member, but just a member, Hood, which is an unfortunate name, I agree, but is highly respected member. The leader of a Brotherhood is called a Grim.”

            “A Grim Reaper,” Elliot said, nodding. 

            “Exactly,” Grayling said, nodding. “I was a first year Acolyte Reaper when I met Call-Ru. He was a normal goblin, albeit already gaining popularity, and well on his way to becoming a warlord among them. He took me under his wing, and taught me how to be a true leader of the people. In one conversation, I told him that there were ways to become a Reaper without being born one, and he badgered me until I told him. How I regret ever dealing with that devil,” Grayling said.

He had forgiven himself years before for what transpired, but that didn’t make it e