Shadows of the Underworld

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

The only monsters that used to plague Nocus Valley were the banished gods and their shadows. But somehow, the Nocus Lord created something more, something worse. Some argued that the beasts were even more deadly than the ruler of Nocus himself. However, Melia begged to differ. She’d seen Nos before and it had left her terrified of her own shadows.

As horrifying as they were, dragons were killable. Nos was not.

He was rumored to have been one of the Almightys. The gods who were there at Avardis’ creation, who grew so powerful that they nearly shattered the universe from the force of their breath. It is said that he knows the only way to kill an Almighty. That he killed all of the others in their resting and descended down to Nocus Valley to create his underworld, leaving all of the Almightys’ offspring to rule Avardis.

Melia knew better than to believe rumors, though. The townspeople liked to spread many about her. They whispered about the shadows that writhed in the hollow beneath her eye, cutting through the warm skin of her cheekbone in a sharp triangular shape.

"Demon," they’d hiss. "Cursed."

She didn’t know where the shadows came from, but knew that she’d been born with sunken gray skin below her eye and that gray skin had been eaten away by shadows by the age of ten. If it hadn’t been for Jorel, the town’s Master Conjurer, taking her in, she would have been drowned by the town’s superstitions as a mere baby.

He’d taught her how to keep her head straight, to not let the whispers get to her, and how to wield the bow currently in her hands. It was because of him that she’d become one of the world’s most deadly killers.

Today’s mission would be one of her riskier ones yet. To steal the heart of the most deadly dragon known to mankind. Nos’ own.

Her steps were light as she descended into Nocus. The path was no more than a winding dirt path that went deeper and deeper into the underworld. Nothing but darkness and silence surrounded her. Finding the entrance to the underworld wasn’t difficult; it was a hole inside of the God of Death’s crypt, tucked behind a false stone coffin.

The path was claustrophobic and stunk of wet earth, but Melia pushed on, fighting to keep her breath even. Despite what most believed, Nocus Valley wasn’t the only underworld to exist. It only scratched the surface of the horrors that lived beneath. If it weren’t for Nocus, then all of those horrors would flood Avardis.

Mel had to keep her eyes peeled for an exit from the path, or else she risked descending into what torture lay beneath the underworld that thrived a hundred feet beneath the earth.

Finally, she found an archway, breaking the perpetual darkness with even darker shadows. She ducked through it and immediately pressed up against one of the walls as two figures turned down the hall she was in.

Mel curled in on herself and watched the figures from behind her mask. Her entire uniform was crafted for the shadows; black slim-fitting pants, a long coat that concealed the harness for her many weapons, and knee-high boots. With the hood thrown over her brown hair and a black mesh face mask, Mel was a shadow incarnate. The cloth made little noise as she moved.

The two figures, gods of the underworld, didn’t sense her presence and disappeared beneath the archway. Most likely to torment some unfortunate souls up above. Mel’s gloved hands curled around the wooden bow in her hands. She had to fight to reign in her control, to not roll out from her hiding spot and kill them both. No one could know she was down there, Nos could not catch a whiff of her.

She’d quickly grown a reputation for her swift kills, specifically her swift kills of the underworld gods. Mel was faster than most, and her hands were steadiest with blades in them. Unlike Nos, the gods were not so hard to kill. As long as she didn’t give them a chance to use their powers on her, then it was easy to make their throats spill torrents of liquid shadow.

A grin split her face as she switched the bow out for Ciltix and Lethos, and pushed forward in a crouch. The blades, her favorites, were onyx with high-quality leather hilts that fit perfectly into her palms. Lethos, named after the god of stealth, had a smooth curved blade. Whereas Ciltix, goddess of cleverness, held serrated teeth to really make her victims scream.

The earth walls soon shifted to carved stone, as white as clean picked bones, and the darkness lightened ever so slightly as little curved cutouts opened in the wall beside her. She peered into those holes and caught glimpses of rooms lined with stone tables and hearths burning from the dragons’ ethereal flames.

Soon the cutouts in the wall grew in size and number until the wall itself resembled that of a dragon’s ribcage. Sounds of voices and music reached her ears then, and she paused at a break in the wall leading into an expansive room.

The room was the tallest she’d seen yet, with a black iron chandelier hanging from the stone ceiling. The Dragon Flame burned in its globes. Dragon Flame was an odd phenomenon; it burned indigo at the bottom and cerulean at the top. However, the light it gave off wasn’t blue or purple; instead it was a brilliant white that could burn human eyes.

Mel forced her eyes away from the flames' enchanting dance, an ache building in her skull, and instead focused on the gods in the room. There were nearly a dozen, from the looks of it, all carrying goblets of a liquid she couldn’t see but could smell. Its potent scent hung heavy in the air along with the smell of oil coming from the dragon in the center.

The dragons all looked the same, with black, oily hides and long serpentine bodies. The scales near their mouths were jagged, emphasizing the enormous teeth inside. The only way to tell them apart was by their size and their eyes. From the dining table size of this one, she knew it to be a Neer dragon, and its yellow eyes revealed it as part of the Ae race. Neeraes were the weakest and least threatening of all of the dragons. Which was probably why all of the gods, dressed up in silken fineries, felt safe being so close to it.

The gods looked like any human would, making them that much more difficult to tell apart. With smooth skin the strength of marble, the ability to turn into shadows at a moment's notice, and powers that held no known limit of possibilities, they could be terrifying.

Mel’s narrowed eyes watched them all; a goddess with shining pale skin in a jeweled dress of silver dancing with a god with umber skin in a moonlight blue suit, two gods acting out jokes to their audience, and a lone goddess sipping wine and glaring at the dragon.

Rage spiked through her at their nonchalance. They didn’t live in constant fear like humans up above did. They danced down here, drank their poisoned wine, and tore apart villages when they got bored.

She’d give them something to fear. Mel shifted the blades in one hand and brought out her whirlers, small circular blades that would whip through the air and slice open their throats before they knew what was happening. As long as she finished them off before they could alert anyone else of her presence, the mission would be safe.

Fury thrummed in her veins as she shifted and scoured the room for her first victim. Her eyes fell on the goddess glaring at the dragon. She had sharp green eyes, brighter than Mel’s own, and red hair that would pair well with her tainted blood.

Mel positioned the first whirler in her palm and aimed it for the goddess’s throat. She reared her arm back, but something in the air shifted and the goddess’s head shot up. Mel froze. She followed the path where the goddess’s gaze had fallen and found nothing but a smooth stone wall. When she looked back though, the goddess’s eyes were wide in horror, and within a single breath, she vanished into a stirring of shadows.

What the hell?

A cold sense of dread crept up Mel’s spine as she slid the whirlers back into her harness. She shot a glance around the room. None of the other gods appeared to have noticed what the goddess had, whatever that was. But Mel had learned quickly to never ignore strange occurrences. She needed to kill Nos’ dragon and get out before whatever the goddess had seen showed itself.

Tucking the blades close to her, Mel held her breath and rolled across the other side of the doorway. She popped back up with her blades ready, but if anyone had noticed a shadow ducking across, they didn’t show it. She turned and began down the path once more. She couldn’t afford anymore distractions.

Jorel had made her study the map of Nocus Valley until she knew it by heart, and then he’d still made her study it. "It isn’t enough to know something by heart," he would always tell her, "your brain needs to know it like it knows its blood, its bones, its muscles. It needs to become one with you."

She never questioned him anymore, despite how badly she wished to know how he’d obtained a map of Nocus in the first place. The underworld, where humans were rumored to enter but never leave. Mel had trusted him, though, when he’d assured her she’d escape. "You always do, my nocus," he’d say to her. The nickname was a mix of the Avardis language and English for my shadow.

Now, she wove through the dark halls like they were the very halls of her own home.

There were no more open doors the deeper she went, only closed walls vibrating with the screams that rang from within. Screams of pleasure, of anger, or of pain. There was no telling whether the cries were human or animal.

Mel hurried past them all. The sense that she was losing time was pressing down on her, heavier than the air below. She couldn’t seem to shake it and felt the stirrings of her panic. Panic did nothing but ruin her missions.

At the thirtieth door she passed, she slowed and readied her blades. She kept to the darkest part of the shadows, knowing that as soon as she rounded the corner, she’d be met with Nos’s guards. It was the only place in their plan that she was allowed to fight, and her blood thrummed with excitement.

She came to a halt near the corner and looked around.

Shock, ice cold, washed over her.

No guards stood before the double doors before her. The path was empty and silent. Her eyes shot around the walls, scouring for some mechanism to trap her. Had they known she was coming?

Mel took an automatic step back as her panic slipped free from her control. But how could they? She wondered, her heart drumming. Her mind flashed with the possibilities, and she fought the urge to tear out her hair.

Her mind finally settled on the image of the goddess who’d vanished into shadows the moment Mel had been about to kill her. It has to be, Mel thought, with such a sudden wave of fury that she nearly screamed.

The plan was crumbling. She had to turn around and had to leave before Nos came for her. Jorel would be mad, but there was nothing she could do. Mel would take his beatings and beratings. The clock was ticking. Something was coming for her and she needed to get now-

Melia, settle down, Jorel’s voice came, stop and focus. Calm your mind, my nocus.

She nodded and forced herself to sit back once more against the wall. A deep breath in, deep breath out. She followed the guided meditation he’d put her through so many times before when her mind had scrambled. When her emotions got the best of her. In those moments, Mel couldn’t think clearly, and it was then that she’d lash out and do something reckless. She needed plans; she needed surety.

After a few minutes, she felt the pieces of her mind reassemble and pushed back to her feet. No matter what happened, the mission was more important. She had no choice but to move forward. Even if it got her killed.

The double doors were ornately carved with the long serpentine bodies of Nos’s creation; the doorknobs were cool to the touch. Steeling herself, Mel pushed inside.

The room she stepped into was cavernous and surprisingly bright, with stone walls and a hard-packed dirt floor. At its very center was Oenar, Nos’s dragon. The most powerful dragon ever created. It was large enough to take up most of the floor, and Mel knew that with its wings spread, it was even bigger.

The beast was chained to the floor, shackles wrapped around its front legs. Though its eyes were closed in sleep, Mel knew them to be the most vivid shades of purple, multiple of them.

Her throat was dry as she stepped toward it, Lethos twirling in her hand. Her steps were too light for even the dragon to hear. She’d have to be fast at diving for its throat before it could wake and snap her in half with its jaws. Then, once she knelt in pools of its oily blood, Mel would have to carve out its heart.

However, as she reached the center of the room, a whistle cut through the air, and she twisted just in time for the arrow to sink into her arm instead of her chest. Voices rang out in the room, dozens of feet thundering down the steps that wrapped around the walls. Mel tore out the arrow with a hiss and whirled.

She’d fallen for their trap. Dark fury rumbled through her as she unloaded her bow and fired at the first red-armored guard she saw. The arrow sank into his jugular and he tipped off of the stairs. His lifeless body hadn’t hit the floor before she fired the next one.

Another whistle and she ducked, rolling out of the path of the arrow. Mel shot back up and fired at the archer. It hit him in between his eyes. As the guards began pouring out onto the floor, she tossed the bow down and threw whirlers. Three dropped dead.

Even with the arrows and her whirlers, Mel was greatly outnumbered. The guards were creatures in between humans and gods and, thankfully, didn’t have godly powers. But they did have their strength. So, Mel had to move faster as one threw a punch that would have shattered her skull if it had landed.

Any fear she’d felt before escaped her as she ducked and wove through them, slashing her blades. Mel’s brain was honed sharper than Lethos’ edges, her focus deadly. Black blood drenched her with each slice, darkening the dirt beneath their feet, but she held her grip on the blades.

A sword caught the edge of her calf, and she stumbled. They converged then, their yells ringing in her head. Mel arched up with Ciltix and successfully ripped open a woman’s eye. But there were too many bodies and they pressed in too tight.

Just as Lethos sank into someone’s paunch belly, Ciltix was knocked from her hand in a shattering of bone. An elbow slammed into the side of her head, and she lost her balance, stars shooting across her vision.

They grabbed her.

"Hold her down!" Someone yelled.

"No," Mel gasped out. She fought and jerked against their hands, but she wasn’t strong like them. Her back hit the ground, and bodies covered hers. She shrieked, fury and panic tearing out of her. Her mask disappeared in the chaos.

She couldn’t think past their voices, past all of the screaming in her head. Mel wasn’t supposed to be caught. That wasn’t part of the plan. Her mind broke apart, panic overwhelming and drowning her. She screamed and screamed, her voice ringing against the stone walls, but no one listened.

The room plunged into swift darkness and, with a painful white light, thunder cracked. It rattled her skull, bringing a sharp pain ricocheting through her head.

"Enough," a voice boomed. The guards flinched and fell silent, wide eyes trained on a space in the room that Mel couldn’t see. "Release her.”

She recognized the voice then.

No, Mel thought with rising terror, no, no, no-

The guards stepped back, some forced to crawl off of her, and all moved into one large huddle against the wall. Mel’s chest seized, air rushing into her lungs. She shoved up to her knees and a brilliant white hot pain shot through her arm. The bones in her hand were completely shattered.

Forcing herself to peer up through the ache in her skull, Mel saw her worst fears confirmed. Nos, ruler of the Nocus, descended from the wide stairs that sat behind Oenar. Her heart stopped.

Nos is your nightmares made true, Mel. You can not risk him finding you.

No, no. This was not supposed to happen. She was not supposed to run into him. Her mind was crumbling. No, no, no.

"The renowned God Killer, in the heart of my domain?"

He was approaching her, a cloak made of shadows swinging at his booted feet. She remembered what he had looked like the first time she’d seen him; alabaster skin over sharp features, black locks that curled against his smooth forehead, and onyx eyes so dark they made you feel as if you were falling into them. Back then, he’d been dressed as a king would be, in bone armor and a dark cape falling down his back.

Now, though, he wore similar clothes to her. A hunter’s clothes. His expression was dark enough to freeze her breath, and as he stopped before her, Mel trembled.

Slowly, he knelt until they were at eye level. She recoiled, but he only watched her, his eyes scouring her from head to toe. Then, too fast for her to react, he grabbed her jaw.

The moment his cool fingers touched her, Mel’s mind fell abruptly silent.

She gasped. She’d never realized how loud her brain could be, how it was always crowded with voices screaming indiscernible things. Whenever her panic got the best of her, those voices rose up and threatened to drown her out.

Mel didn’t fight him as he tilted her head side to side, brows furrowed and depthless eyes holding hers as if he was searching for something. The silence stretched and she found herself relaxing into it.

"They’ve done quite the number on you," he murmured, his silky voice too low for her to be sure he’d spoken at all.

He stepped back, and the very second his fingers disappeared, the voices rushed in on her. Mel rocked from the force of them and her anxiety returned tenfold.

"Why did you come all of this way for my Oenar, Killer?"

Mel swallowed hard, "I need his heart."

Nos’s lips twitched, "You want my dragon’s heart?"

She could only nod in answer. With her good hand, she pushed up to her feet and swayed. Pain was radiating all over her body and she was shaking so hard she was surely going to split apart. The guards were even more motionless behind her. They blocked the doors, but even if she wanted to run, she’d never escape Nos.

"Let me guess, you wish to have the heart for the power it is rumored to hold." At her nod, a wicked grin spread over his lips. He paced in thought, hands folded behind his back. Somehow, he was even more terrifying when he was silent, when she didn’t know his motives.

After a long stretch of silence, he turned to her and said, "Okay. I’ll give it to you."

"What?" Mel breathed, shock washing over her. Confused murmurs rose from the guards at her back.

"I’ll give you the heart, if," he said, approaching her once more, "you join me in finding something I lost some time ago."

Mel jerked back and immediately regretted it as pain shot through her head. "Why would you need me?" Surely Nos, the most powerful being in existence, had the power to raise the earth in order to find his lost item.

"Let’s just say I’m in a bit of a hurry to find this item and, as well as being a skilled god killer, I’ve heard you are also a great hunter."

"I hunt gods, not objects."

He shrugged and stepped close enough for her to hear when his voice dropped, "It’s your choice. Help me, and I’ll forgive you for trying to kill my Oenar. Refuse," he breathed, "and fight your way out." Her gut plummeted, fear was a living thing wrapping around her bones as he stood mere inches from her. Close enough to tear her heart out.

She heard the clinking of armor as the guards straightened. Holding Nos’s pitch dark gaze she thought over his offer. Her hand was shattered, her weapons strewn along the floor, and she was pretty sure she had a concussion. Her odds of surviving all of the guards, gods, and Nos of the underworld were abysmal.

Mel thought of Jorel, thought of the silence that had filled her when Nos had grabbed her, thought of all he was offering her and nodded.

The grin that stretched over Nos’s face was wicked enough to send her mind scrambling once more.

“It’s a deal.”