The Cultists PT.2

Badurad was standing at the gates surrounded by corpses and discarded weapons. Blood was soaking into the ground creating a bleak mud that seemed to devour everyone. There were burned people and limbs removed from bodies. Cultists had just disappeared before him. There was nop trace of them around him. He just stared at his surroundings. They couldn't have been hiding there was nowhere good enough. He assumed they had teleported so he advanced through the gates but just as he walked into the courtyard he felt a sharp stinging pain in his back. He instantly clutched where the pain was. He stared at his palm and blood was running down his wrist. Badurad's vision blurred he could hardly see any more. He had been stabbed and shot at constantly for about ten minutes. The adrenalin had kept him going until now but he was starting to come down and his energy was waning. He suddenly collapsed and threw up blood barely able to stave off the impending sleep. In the same way they had disappeared a few of the cultists reappeared they stared down at him as he was bleeding out. In a last ditch effort he stretch out his hand but no words came his mind was blank. he could only think one thing. ["Burn, Burn, Burn, BURN, BURN!!"] his hand was then engulfed in fire which spread outwards swallowing up all the cultists and then he let go he fell asleep covered in blood and dead bodies.

He fell asleep, well passed out but it was virtually the same thing at this point. He woke up with a start. He looked around himself, forgetting what had happened momentarily. He was in control of his body now but still in immense pain. He wasn't bleeding anymore which was good and he guessed that it was because of his new 'Friend'. He hadn't seen anyone who could be graham the lord of lambs. He stood up pushing the incinerated corpses from his body. Most of them were relatively intact but some of them crumbled on contact. As he stood up and approached the town behind the gate. He still ached from his previous battle. He still wasn't sure about what had happened. It felt like the boy from his dream had been controlling his body. He had seen the events of the battle but still didn't quite believe them. He had used magic but he had no idea how. It was as if just thinking about the air before him igniting had made that happen. He wondered if he could do it again or if it was a skill specific to the boy in the void. He stretched out his hand. and closed his eyes. He pictured flames, the same flames that he had seen before, spreading from his palm and shooting out like the mages had done before. He thought about only one thing. Fire. He thought about the destructive flames stretching in front of him consuming the air. He thought about nothing but the burning. And then he felt his hand get warmer. He opened his eyes to see that his hand was glowing a dark red colour. He then brought it down in a sweeping motion like swinging a sword. And in front of him a circle made of fire formed where his hand had been and then fired forward into the fence on the other side of the village setting it ablaze. Like it had been drilled into him since he was young he stared at the fire and snapped his fingers, the fire went out. He stared at his hand in disbelief. He could control fire. He was no longer limited to short ranged attacks. ["Well done badu rad that was impressive I'm surprised you got that so quickly but it did take you about three minutes to conjure an E-ranked magic spell. But keep at it and you'll get it eventually."] He guessed that the voice kept hearing was the boy from the void. "Can you hear me." said Badurad ["Yes I can hear you what of it."] replied the voice. "What do I call you I need a name or something?" said badurad with a hopeful expression [" Oh fine then I guess you can call me Zeldrick or Zel for short."] Now that was cleared up Badurad knew what to call Zel but didn't know what he was, why he was inside of his head and why he had such unique powers. However there was no time to dwell on that he would have to ask him next time.

Badurad walked through the ruined village looking for the entrance to the cultists' lair. It was pretty obvious when he saw it. There was a huge set of trap doors made of dark black cast iron. They had fires on both sides of the entrance and handles shaped like hell hounds. He heaved the giant doors open. They slammed to the ground with a loud crash. This made Badurad tense up and cringe. He was now sure the enemy's inside heard that. Past the doors were a set of cold stone stairs that were sparsely lit and got little light from outside. They retreated into yet another door. This door wasn't as heavy as the last one and opened into a bright and wide room. The room was bigger than he had expected from a subterranean lair. There was nothing particularly special about the room. It had a table and some chairs and a door on the other side of the hall. There were three cultists in front of him. One was taller than Badurad and had an axe that looked like it would shatter his body. The second had a blunt stave with steel and a leather handle. The third to Badurad's extreme annoyance was a book which only meant one thing. Magic.

The first cultist stepped forward and loomed over Badurad peering down. He then let out a hearty chuckle and in a deep voice said. "Who let this kid in here? Why do we always have to pick up the slack of those lazy gatekeepers?" He then without warning brought his axe down on badurad. Badurad held his hand up and caught the axe, well more of an interference than a catch. He thought again. The burning in his head. He tapped into that spirit and opened his eyes. The moment the axe blade touched his hand it melted drooping down to the floor pushed away by a torrent of flame bellowing up to the ceiling. With his other hand wasting no time Badurad unsheathed his sword and stabbed the giant man through the gut twisting his sword until the colour drained from the man's eyes. Badurad pulled the sword out and allowed the body to flop to the floor beside him. He then swung his sword launching the remaining blood and entrails at the second fighter. Badurad walked forward hoping to slowly gain as much ground on the pole user before he snapped out of the trance he was in. However it was in vain as the pole user thrust his stave forward almost catching badurad in the face with the steel tip. Badurad dogged to the right and thrust his sword into the stave attempting to slice it in two. However the stave repealed the sword and both weapons lurched backwards. This gave the second cultist an opening and he swung his pole in the counter direction aiming it right at Badurad's head. There was no time to dodge and if he was knocked out he was done for. He had no other option but to fall backwards. His body thudded on the stone floor Knocking the wind out of him leaving him with just enough sense to stay conscious. He wasted no time in getting back on his feet. The pole user expected him to move backwards and thrusted his arm outwards to get the maximum reach. Badurad leaped forward and in a single strike cut off the man's hand causing him to drop his staff. Badurad pushed further forward, turning his sword and bringing it down on the man's neck. Blood spurted out like always and cought Badurad in the face. It rolled down his face and joined the growing mass of injuries and blood taking refuge in his now red dyed clothes. With no further hesitation Badurad turned to face the magician who had finished chanting.