SEVEN: Where The Dead Live

They had the situation under control, sort of.

As much as they could. Which meant all the exits had been sealed off, and there were a few corpses, here and there. Most of the people, though uncooperative, had found hiding behind the pillars, pavilion, dias and wherever else they could.

Faith counted four more from where she stood beside Arechin. Their breathing was heavily labored. They had already slaughtered about eight of them.

"So, they're demons?" She said between breaths, as they pushed behind another one. She had to say, she had gotten a hang of this.

"Yes. That's all I've had a chance to learn." His wound was slowing him down, it was quite evident. But he charged on with gritted teeth. Last time the demons had crossed over was perhaps during the age of Oriph, from what she'd learnt. They were taught little about demons during their lessons, whatever she learnt was out of pure interest from the books in the libraries of the castle. Which was also little. And she never learnt about Oriph, or his Seven Devices of Destruction. All records of him had been burnt down long ago.

Who could've predicted that creatures from Hell would be in attendance tonight?

She took to its front and Arechin attacked from behind, cutting through its skin. They'd figured that other than their mammoth size and thick skin, they were practically just slow moving targets. They were even easier to kill when blinded. It lowered its head,

attempting to bite off her head. She sprang before it could even open its wide mouth completely, blinding both its eyes and then slashing at its neck. Arechin leapt, attacking simultaneously. Its head rolled to her feet.

These demons disintegrated away into nothing but a pile of ash once dead. They had come to know that the only way to kill a demon was to behead it. Other parts regenerated almost readily, except the eyes. They never grew back.

She looked around, taking in the Great Hall, splattered with blood now. There was the damned black blood of the demons, intermixed with the crimson blood of her kind. And Abraham was fighting off two demons with an order of soldiers—

She counted. She swore again then. There were seven more now.

"They just keep coming." She said to herself. It was like they just appeared. Out of nowhere.

"And they will continue to do so." Serria said standing beside the panting pair, "Unless the portal is closed."

They hadn't even sensed her coming.

Perhaps, they'd been too focused on slaying a demon. Arechin was the first one to fire up, taking his sister by her shoulders.

"Hell, Serria." He said, demon blood, and his own blood—dripping off him. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you were in need of assistance, all of you are—"

"No." He cut her off, "You are a fool. You will be of little help, sister. You will be a much greater hindrance than assistance."

She flinched at each blow, and Faith knew how terrible it felt to be undermined. Often, she felt Abraham undermined her.

Serria had grown so little in front of her brother but she opened her mouth to speak again, "Stop." She said, as if she wanted to catch her breath. She turned to Faith, shaking off Arechin's grip.

Faith saw determination in her eyes. Flames that could not be put out. "Faith, they will keep coming unless their portal is closed. Portals are openings from Hell that permit their entry." She continued, already concluding that speaking to her brother was futile. "There is much to tell you, but we have little time."

"I understand, my lady." Faith said, lowering her sword. "Should I seek out this portal? Is there a method of shutting it?"

"None that I am aware of. But it is in the vicinity of their presence, I am sure." She looked at her brother then, "Have you closed off all exits?"

"All." Arechin, who seemed to have faded into the background, replied.

"Even the one that goes through the catacombs?" Faith's eyes narrowed. She was not aware of an exit that passed through the city's catacombs. Arechin's eyes widened, and Faith knew he had not in fact closed this exit.

"No, I will have it—" She waved him off. She was perhaps the only woman who could do that.

"That is quite alright." She said in a hurry, looking around the Great Hall. "Their numbers are only increasing. And there are people here, children. Terrified. That route is not used by anyone, but it still leads outside. I can take them. If not, by the end of the night we will have no one left to defend. I only ask of you to distract these demons." Faith thought of the pieces of flesh she had come across a while ago, evidently of a child. Then the old man that had been ripped apart. Then the woman who lay dead at her feet.

Arechin seemed to be considering this too.

"Fine." He bit out. "But you will have soldiers accompany you—" Another demon had condensed into form behind Arechin. Its arms sent him flying across the Great Hall before he even had a chance to look.

Serria screamed in horror as her brother crashed against one of the walls. He collapsed to the ground, limp.

"Go, my lady." Faith said, raising her sword. "You must go now."

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Serria was still mortified. Was her brother dead? Surely, that blow would've taken anyone out. Fear welled in her bosom.

But she had little room for fear as she led her people through the catacombs. The city had an extensive system of catacombs, running for miles beneath. They did not know how old exactly these catacombs were, but historians predicted that these dated back to the time when Eltarin was still ruled by the Dark Lord, Vayr Morif. These catacombs were secretively constructed by the humans for their fellow men who died at the hands of the elves. Humans were not allowed to be buried on the lands of Eltarin under the dictates of Vayr. They were either burnt or fed to the monsters. A large section of Eltarin's humankind did not reconcile with the burning of their people, and feeding their fallen men to the monsters was crude.

Thus, the dead were given a peaceful burial here. The catacombs were never unlit—there was another Formation at work here. It is often said that humans had learnt magic from their masters, the elven kind. The humans had turned against the elves with the use of the same magic that had been taught to them, conquering large portions of the Western Continent. They had also developed magic further, leading to the invention of Formations—intricate patterns drawn with magic. Powerful Formations required blood.

The walls of the catacombs were lined with tombstones, but she knew further ahead they were lined with the bones of the dead.

To get to the catacombs they had to crawl through a tunnel hidden behind the storage under the wide set of stairs. Then, they had to jump from a great height, directly into a wide clearing of the catacombs. This path was not suitable for the old and weak, so she had left them behind with a heavy heart. Then, she could only take a certain number of people with her at once and had to return for some more again. How many would be dead by then? She would have blamed herself not long ago.

But she remembered that spring night not so long ago, when she had laid out a cloth on the grass of her gardens. She had spread herself out on that cloth, looking at the night sky. The stars were visible then. Now, the sickly winter hid most of the stars. Not long after, she was joined by Arechin. That night, there was a party being thrown in the Great Hall, similar to this one, for Arechin's nineteenth birthday. A year younger than her he might be, but he was much wiser. He had had his arms tucked under his neck, in his usual way.

"Sister, what is it that you ask the stars tonight?" He asked her, his hair moving in the slow breeze.

"I beg for peace." She had replied. He had raised his eyebrows then. He might've accepted their father's ideology of tyranny only for validation, but it was all one big pretense. She knew the boy who had challenged their father, the great Emperor, to duel when he had threatened the peace of Arlin fifteen years ago—still existed.

"Nothing for yourself?" He had asked, toying with that band of metal he always wore around his wrist.

"I ask to be the one who brings peace." She had said, "I will save my people from the tyrant that rules these lands.

He had laughed. "And will you save all of them?"

"Yes." She had said, so thoughtlessly.

"Sister, you cannot save everyone."

Now, she realized he was right. Yet again.

"Your Highness, pardon my rudeness." She was brought back to the catacombs, and she was walking down one straight path. A woman walking behind her was speaking to her, "But how much farther to go?"

Well there was this room a few meters ahead, that they had to pass through, then another straight path to get to a clearing where a lid had to be removed from the ceiling to get out onto the streets.

"Just a little further." She said though, her voice tinged with hope. "We are nearly there."

Four guard soldiers walked not too far ahead from her. The only threat they'd find in these tunnels would be rodents.

She found some of her people scrunching their noses in disgust. Well, this was an underground cemetery. And she found some of them admiring the paintings on the walls and tombstones. She had to admit, they were beautiful.

These catacombs were restricted to common folk. She could almost imagine her father rolling in anger in his moonstone bed, if he found out she had let their people pass through such sacred grounds.

She had never figured out why he had taken such measures. To her, this was simply a tourism boost.

Some of these paintings were astonishing. Much of them had still persisted, they must've used some very heavily pigmented colors. She was gasping at the large painting of a woman, so beautiful and stately that she almost looked real. Had she perhaps been buried here?

As they walked down the route, she couldn't help but stare at the tombstones. The epitaphs and even the names were written in a language she failed to understand. She had never seen such twists and curves of letters. She did not recall even Elven looking like this.

A familiar growling interrupted her thoughts. And she knew her people recognized the sounds too—they took several fearful steps behind.

"What was that?" She said, fear threatening to creep in again.

"Your Highness, the sounds are from the room up ahead." A soldier informed her. It was from the room they had to pass through in order to reach safety.

No. No.

"We will have to go ahead first, then." She signaled for two of the soldiers from behind to join. Two would remain with her people here in the corridors of the forgotten catacomb.

So, the Princess walked, guarded by six soldiers, and a sword in hand—that she had picked up from a fallen soldier in the Great Hall as she ran to protect her people.

She hadn't realized that she had walked into the enormity of the prison-like room until she stood before a glowing circle of blazing blue and purple. It had been formed on the wall opposite to her on the far end of the room, looking onto a world of darkness. She did not need Tana to tell her that this was a portal.

She swallowed, looking at the Vannuth that stood before them, yawning to display their monstrous fangs.

She remembered what they had done to Arechin, to her people.

With Faith and Abraham present, she had confidence that they could overcome the battle. But with only her and her six guard soldiers, her confidence was deflated.

She counted their numbers,

One, two, three, four. . ..

Nine.

The screams of her people filled her ears and she knew more had spawned beyond the walls of the room.

They could appear anywhere in the vicinity of the portal.

She remembered her conversation with Tana.

She had not been protecting her people. No—she had led them and taken them at the feet of Death.

"We await your orders, Your Highness." A soldier reminded her.

What would Faith have done?

"Fight." She replied, raising her own sword.