A Brief Interlude Part 3 of 6 (Fantasy / Sword and Sorcery)

Prophecy

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Read Part 2 Here

A Brief Interlude - Part Three - Prophecy

Davi woke gently, and with ease. The first morning in years his body didn't instinctively catalog its wounds before allowing his mind to fully awaken. He sat up, stretched. No Pain!

"Asra?" he called, although he didn't expect an answer. Fae were nocturnal creatures. He flexed his fingers again, still marveling at his renewed strength.

Davi closed his eyes, the memory of their healing connection flooding back. He saw again how her fingers had become liquid flowing into his wounded flesh, how he felt it surge through his veins, purging the demon venom. He remembered her gasp as their minds and bodies briefly connected, sharing memories and so much more. The intimacy of that moment lingered on, and stayed in his thoughts long after he opened his eyes again.

Davi collected his belongings and continued east. The forest thinned gradually as the day progressed, giving way to rolling hills. By the gods, not much further now.

By midday, the remains of a city spread before him.

Stackmore.

It had been a centre of commerce once, before the war reached these lands. Now, half the buildings lay in various states of ruin, the residents abandoning damaged quarters to cluster in defensible areas, creating pockets of dense humanity amid desolation.

Davi pulled his hood lower as he entered the marketplace. The makeshift stalls were crammed with all sorts of odds and ends; A tarnished silver candlestick, a threadbare quilt, and other forgotten treasures. Merchants called out to anyone who passed, their voices blending into a noisy, desperate hum as they tried to sell belongings that bore the weight of someone else's suffering.

A thin woman selling bread caught his eye. "Fresh this morning," she lied. Her children played at her feet, too thin but still laughing.

He was reaching for a coin when a horrible cry cut through the marketplace. It wasn’t human, nor animal, but the screech of a demon. People froze. Conversations died mid-word. All eyes turned skyward.

Two dark shapes circled overhead, initially resembling large birds. As they spiraled lower, Davi recognized them. Pit devils: more of Vexis's hunters. Fifteen-foot wingspans cast moving shadows across the marketplace. Scales like dried blood caught the sunlight, their elongated jaws bearing rows of serrated teeth that promised violence.

The bread-seller grabbed her children, pulling them against her with desperate strength. "Not again," she whispered, eyes wide with terror. "They came last week. Took three people."

The marketplace erupted in panic. People scattered, abandoning goods and shoving past one another in their rush for shelter. But the bread-seller remained frozen, her children clutching her skirts.

One devil broke away, diving straight for them.

"Behind me!" Davi shouted, positioning himself between the family and the descending monster, his sword at the ready.

The pit devil pulled up short with a crack of leathery wings. It hovered, yellow eyes fixing on him with unexpected recognition.

"The Whitelighter who smells of fae water," it hissed, voice like broken glass grinding into stone. "The water nymph has marked you."

A chill ran through Davi. They know about Asra?

The second devil joined the first, circling closer. "The Mistress will be pleased," it said, its voice unnaturally high one moment, growling deep the next. "Water and light mingling... the first convergence."

"The ascension will come to pass," said the first, "and it will begin with her consumption of your corpse!"

The bread-seller clutched her children tighter. "Run," Davi told her without looking back. "Now!"

The first devil attacked, diving with claws extended like scythes. Davi sidestepped smoothly, his sword flashing upward in a precise arc. It caught the devil mid-dive, slicing through its wing. Black blood sprayed from the wound, sizzling where it hit the cobblestones. The creature shrieked, its cry rattling the windows of nearby buildings, and staggered back, its wing hanging limp.

"Sacrilege!" the wounded devil screamed. "Do you comprehend what you interfere with, Whitelighter? She has consumed the essence of a thousand souls since Carradon Ridge. Each one brings her closer to godhood!"

The second devil swooped low, its talons slashing at Davi with deadly precision. He ducked, spinning out of the way as the creature's claws tore through the air inches from his head. It landed heavily, cracking the stone beneath its feet, and turned to face him. Its molten eyes gleamed with hatred.

Both devils launched themselves at him. Davi moved like water, his body flowing with precision and grace. He ducked under the first devil’s claws, pivoting on his heel to avoid the second’s sweep, and slashed upward. His blade caught the uninjured devil’s flank, carving through its scales. It roared in pain, black ichor dripping from the wound.

But the devils adjusted, their movements becoming more coordinated, more relentless. One feinted low while the other came from above, forcing Davi into a defensive rhythm. Their claws tore through the air around him, each strike coming closer than the last. He parried and dodged, but they pressed harder, faster, their supernatural speed outpacing his instincts.

Davi’s breathing quickened. He was holding his ground, but only barely. A sharp blow from the second devil’s tail swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, his sword skittering out of reach. The first devil loomed over him, its molten eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Now you fall," it growled, raising a clawed hand for the killing strike.

Desperation surged through Davi, and with it, a kind of instinct. His left hand shot up, palm outstretched. A surge of energy raced through his body, erupting from his hand as blinding, searing radiance that burned with the intensity of the sun.

The first devil screamed as the light struck it square in the chest. Its scales blackened and cracked, smoke rising as the radiant force burned through its flesh. It staggered back, clawing at its own body in a futile attempt to extinguish the light. The second devil recoiled, shielding its eyes with a wing as the light filled the marketplace, driving back the shadows.

Davi pushed himself to his feet, his body felt heavy and languid. He could barely breathe as he watched the first devil collapse to its knees, its molten eyes dimming as the light consumed it from within.

The second devil snarled, its molten gaze flicking between Davi and the townspeople, who had begun to emerge from their hiding places. The bread-seller was at their forefront, a broken brick clutched in her trembling hands.

"Get back!" Davi called to her, his voice sharp. But the townspeople didn’t retreat. One by one, they stepped forward, armed with whatever they could find; stones, tools, broken pottery.

The second devil hissed. "You dare challenge me. You puny human rats…"

The bread-seller hurled her brick, cutting off the devil’s tirade. It struck the creature in the jaw, snapping its head to the side. Around her, the other townspeople followed suit, their improvised weapons flying through the air. Rocks, tools, and debris rained down on the devil, forcing it back.

Davi seized the opportunity. His sword lay a few feet away, he forced himself to move with Whitelighter discipline, scooping it up just as the devil lashed out at the crowd with its tail. He slashed downward, severing the tail in a single stroke. The devil howled in agony, its balance faltering.

The townspeople pressed their attack, their collective fury overwhelming the creature. It tried to rise, its wings beating furiously, but the townspeople swarmed the devil with a fury born of years of terror. Stones, tools, and makeshift weapons rained down on the creature as it thrashed and roared, trying to fight back. A farmer drove a pitchfork into its side while others tore at its wings, pinning it to the ground. The bread-seller struck its head with an iron rod, shattering one of its horns. The devil's cries grew weaker as the crowd overwhelmed it, their combined strength tearing through its scales and breaking its body piece-by-piece. When the creature finally fell still, its broken form lay in a pool of black ichor, its once-mighty presence reduced to stains upon the ground

The marketplace fell silent except for the sound of labored breathing. Around him, the townspeople stood bruised but victorious, their faces a mixture of relief and awe.

A man in council robes approached, picking his way carefully across the battlefield. His garments were fine but worn, much like the city itself.

"Stackmore thanks you," he said with a formal bow. "I am Councilor Victor. We have always been friends with the Whitelighters."

"Davi," he replied, clasping the offered hand. "I'm searching for others of my order. Has anyone passed through recently?"

Victor's eyes softened with something that might have been pity. "Yes. In small groups over the last week. I'll tell you what I told them." He gestured toward a large building with a partially collapsed roof. "The tunnels under the old guild hall are vast. They'll take you beyond the city safely, where no flying scouts can spot you."

"Thank you," Davi said, suddenly aware of the watching crowd.uneasy.

"You should go quickly," Victor said quietly. "Word travels fast, even in these broken times. If Vexis's creatures found you once..."

Davi nodded and headed for the tunnels, his mind racing. Water and light, already mingling. The healing connection he had shared with Asra wasn't just a passing encounter; it had somehow set something in motion. Something Vexis had anticipated.

Was their meeting pure chance? Or something orchestrated?

---

Davi ducked into the tunnel entrance, the cool darkness a welcome respite after the chaos above. Built for commerce, Stackmores underground had become a lifeline for those traveling unseen during wartime.

The main passage was broad enough for six people to walk abreast, its ceiling supported by ancient stonework. Smaller corridors branched off at intervals, disappearing into shadow. Moisture glistened on the walls, forming rivulets that traced patterns through moss and lichen.

Others traveled the tunnels too. refugees mostly, moving in small groups with their worldly possessions reduced to what they could carry. They gave Davi a wide berth

A light touch on his arm made him spin around, his hand reaching for his sword.

"Asra,"

She stood before him, an otherworldly presence among the grime-streaked refugees. Her skin seemed to draw what little light existed, transforming it into a subtle glow that outlined her form.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

"The water remembers," she replied, "Since our... connection, I can sense you through it."

“I was attacked by Vexis’s Pit Devils. Hunters. They talked of prophecy. Water and Light. They said that Vexis wants to consume me. They talked of drinking Fae blood from some kind of chalice”

“What did they say exactly”

“Water and Light. Mingling. Convergence. Something like that…”

"It reminds me of a poem from my childhood. Asra's voice took on a rhythmic quality, as if reciting something learned long ago.

When water meets light in fateful embrace,
Destruction or salvation will take its place.
The choice of the ages, dark or bright,
Hangs in the union of water and light"

"You think that is referring to us?" Davi asked incredulously.

"I don't know," she admitted. "If it were true, it would make us very important, or very dangerous”

Water dripped from cracks above, forming puddles that Asra manipulated as they passed. The droplets rose at her approach, swirling in complex patterns before rejoining their source.

As they walked deeper into the tunnels, Davi noticed how others stepped aside, their gazes lingering on Asra with a mixture of awe and hunger. Some reached out as if to touch her, then pulled back at the last moment.

"They sense what you are," he observed.

"Their desire is instinctual," she replied. "But with you, I feel safe. That is not something I am accustomed to."

But I am no different. I am attracted to her. More than I should be…

"I'm not sure I'm totally immune," he admitted.

"Yes. But your sense of honor and duty would not let you act on what you feel."

They reached a junction where several tunnels converged. Torches illuminated a small marketplace that had formed underground.

"Where are we going?" Asra asked.

"After the battle at Carradon, as everything fell apart, I saw a settlement in my mind - A gathering place for survivors. I believe it's a rallying point for the remaining Whitelighters."

"I don't place much faith in visions," she said, trailing fingers along the damp wall. "With a touch of my hand, I could make you believe anything. How do you know it wasn't sent by your enemies?"

The question hung between them, unanswerable.

"Tell me about your people," Davi said as they continued through the tunnels.

Asra's expression grew distant. "The water-folk have always kept to themselves. We have connections to both sides in the war”. Her fingers curled into a fist. "But neutrality became complicity. We should have stood with those who fought against Vexis. We thought she would not come for us, until she did, and killed many of those I loved.."

"It's not too late," Davi said softly.

Her eyes met his, and something passed between them—an understanding deeper than words.

As they neared the tunnel's end, Davi noticed Asra growing increasingly uneasy, her eyes darting to the distant rectangle of light that marked the exit.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Dawn approaches," she said, her voice tight. "My kind... we don't fare well in direct sunlight. It dries us, makes us vulnerable."

"I guessed as much."

"I can endure it briefly, but prolonged exposure is... painful."

"That's why you appeared at night, and left before morning."

She nodded. "I'll need to find water sources along our journey. Places to rest and replenish when the sun is strongest."

---

When they emerged from the tunnels, stars still glittered in a cloudless sky. A half-moon illuminated the countryside before them—rolling hills giving way to distant forests. The air felt clean after the tunnel's dampness.

"This settlement we're going to," Asra asked, "what's it like?"

"A small farming community, I believe. Unimportant, out of the way. A perfect place to hide and regroup." Davi smiled wearily. "To tell you the truth, I don't care as long as I can get a bath and clean clothes."

Asra laughed. "The simple things become precious when everything else has been taken away."

They followed a narrow path through meadows where wildflowers nodded in the pre-dawn breeze. The eastern horizon showed the first pale hints of approaching day.

"I admire that you still cling to hope despite all that's been lost," Asra said, watching the lightening sky with growing apprehension.

…

The stillness struck Davi first, no wind, no animals, and then the silence. No birds called from the scattered trees they passed, no insects hummed in the tall grass.

"Something is wrong," Asra said, her voice hushed.

A sickly miasma rose from the soil itself. The vegetation changed, becoming twisted and stunted, leaves curling inward as if recoiling from something toxic.

Halfway across a meadow, Davi noticed dark stains on the grass, at first mistaking them for shadows. As they drew closer, he recognized the unmistakable pattern of blood spatter.. The smell intensified: a mixture of copper, rot, the insidious sulphurous reek of demonic corruption.

"We should go back," Asra suggested,. "Whatever vision led you here... I fear it may have been corrupted."

But Davi pressed on, a growing dread hardening into certainty with each step. The horizon continued to lighten with the dawn, revealing dark shapes against the sky. The silhouettes of buildings reduced to broken shells, walls partially collapsed, roofs caved in.

The smell intensified beyond bearing mixed now with acrid notes of burnt flesh and bone, and underneath, an unnatural musk that burrowed into their nostrils. This wasn't just death; this was demonic violation.

In what must have once been the village square, a grotesque display awaited them. Row upon row of corpses had been arranged with methodical precision. He could tell they were farmers and townsfolk by their simple clothes, though those garments were now so soaked with blood and torn by violence that they barely served to identify their wearers.

And facing this horrific audience, like actors on a macabre stage, stood ten wooden crosses. Upon each hung men and women in the tattered remnants of their Whitelighter uniforms, crucified and displayed as a message…

Elara, who could heal with a whispered word; Torin, whose light arrows never missed their mark; Captain Soren, who had taught Davi to wield a sword when he was just a recruit. Friends with whom he had shared meals and memories, comrades who had stood with him through countless battles. Who survived Carradon Ridge only to meet such a gruesome and pointless end.

His knees buckled. He fell forward, retching violently as his body rejected the horror before him. Something burst within his chest, his grief manifesting as light that emitted from his skin in erratic pulses, illuminating the grisly scene in strobing flashes.

He became aware of Asra kneeling beside him, her cool hand on his back. She made no sound, offered no meaningless platitudes. She simply remained there, a solid presence as he shook with grief and rage.

Standing, his gaze fell on Elara's face, frozen in defiance even in death. "She was to be married this spring," he whispered. "We used to argue about whether healing or fighting served the order better. And Torin, his daughter is only five years old."

The sun continued its rise, its rays illuminating in harsh detail what darkness had partially concealed. Where the light touched Asra's skin, it seemed to ripple slightly, small wisps of vapor rising from the surface.

She winced, stepping back into the shadows. "The sun," she said, voice tight with pain. "I can't stay much longer."

Davi looked at her, remembering what she had revealed about her nature. "You need to go," he said. "I'll be alright."

"No, you won't," she replied simply. "And neither will I, nor anyone else if Vexis completes her ascension." She glanced upward at the brightening sky, her form becoming increasingly translucent where sunlight touched her. "My skin is burning. You must decide quickly."

"Decide what?"

"Whether to come with me. Where I come from, water shields against all harshness. You could rest, recover, and then return to fight again." A drop of moisture ran down her cheek "Time flows differently there. What feels like months might be only days here."

Davi looked once more at the ruined settlement, at the slaughtered innocents and his crucified comrades. Everything he had fought for, everyone he had hoped to find, was gone.

"The prophecy," he said slowly. "If it's true... if our joining is key to either Vexis's rise or fall..."

"Then we've already set it in motion," Asra finished. "But we don't know which outcome we serve."

The sun climbed higher. Where its rays touched Asra now, her outline wavered, as if she were struggling to maintain her form.

"I need your answer," she said softly , her voice becoming as fluid as her appearance. "Stay and fight alone, or come with me and perhaps find a way to save what remains."

Davi reached out, his fingers passing through her increasingly insubstantial hand. "There is nothing left for me here," he said… his voice hollow with grief.

End of Part 3

---

Dear reader - thank you for reading part 3 of a Brief Interlude. My offering for Warrior Wednesday on the 14th of May 2025 - The Man Behind the Screen and The Brothers Krynn

Part 3 was a challenge to write, but I am pleased with a number of elements, particularly the battle with the Pit Devils. I didn’t want another battle just to fulfill genre expectations, it had to different, and it had to advance the plot. Which it did, so much so that I had to add more of the prophecy to the tunnel scene.
Serializing has been a really interesting endeavor, and I am learning on the job. I already had this whole story complete, and I thought it would be easy to break into parts, maybe generate some pictures to illustrate it, and have a few weeks of easy posts while I work on other projects…This hasn’t been the case at all! Each of the parts has taken days of revision, re-editing, including the addition of new scenes.

I haven’t been able to work on anything else at all - but I am OK with that. I hope this story continues to get readers over time, and it serves as an introduction to my more fantasy / sword and sorcery leaning work.