Four Horsemen: Chapter 2 Part 1 of 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 2

“-four horsemen, but two of us are women!” Mya yelled as Petor’s hearing went from distant, snapping into crystal clear.

The darkness was all encompassing.

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” Mya muttered.

A snap of her fingers and Desari held up a fireball, illuminating the space.

Four face greeted him, Desari and Mya’s were unchanged.

“You have a face.” Petor looked at Valter, he’d been the tallest in his village, but Valter was built like a low-lying hill, twice as wide as Valter made of packed muscle and a head taller. He had short black hair with grey and white threading in, making him handsome instead of aging him. His eyes burned like magma, slowly fading into brown.

“Of course I have a-“ Valter trailed off and grabbed his head. “I have a face,” he said in quiet wonder.

“Right,” Desari raised her eyebrow and looked around she flicked her fingers, four more fireballs appeared and spread out overhead, the interior of a four-sided pyramid stretched above, with carvings running up the interior.

They stood on podiums with runes carved up to him. He patted his toga, coughing at the dust, pulling up his personal information.

[Petor]

[Member of the four horsemen]

[Core: White]

[Demon bound]

Valter held up his hand, frowned as if concentrating on a particularly interesting piece of floor, maybe a bowel movement.

“The mountain’s shaking.” He nodded to himself and started running. For the only door in the room between him and the black haired lady.

“Well this day is going great!” Mya grumbled.

He felt it then, what the large man had felt, a subtle shaking through solid stone.

“Are you trying to eat the backside of your toga, or you just holding onto it between your ass cheeks like it owes you a month worth of dock dues?” The redhead cackled. “You coming Petor?”

“Gods.” Petor cursed, chasing them out the corridor they were running.

“I was going to get a nice quiet beer down at the swinging lass and lad, then those fuckers had to shoot on my ship. Now I gotta deal with some devil trader, and get shoved in a pyramid temple. What a fucking day huh? Good view though.”

“Door!” Valter’s words a frustrated snort.

“The light is going out.” Petor noted the runes  down the hall were dying.

“Move,” Desari flicked out her hand, conjuring a small flame using it to look over the door.

“So you can control fire?” Mya asked.

Desari looked up, studying the flame. “I guess?” She half muttered and went back to studying the wall, speaking in tones and languages that passed over the Petor’s head.

“Here.” She stood back into a stance, grounding herself as if a monk and slammed a palm into a collection of runes.

The runes flared, stuttered and died.

“No you don’t.” He voice deepened into power, the runes flared to life, spreading across the door, through the runes, cracking them.

“Umm, Desari?” Petor’s voice raised.

“Break.” The door shattered and blew outwards into the crys of people on the other side.

Petor winced as Valter ran into the room on the other side.

“Nice work, lass” Mya patted Desari on the back and kept after him.

Petor passed her as she rose slowly.

“You okay?”

“Fine as a summer rain,” She ran past him.

“Stop in the name of Karenthal!” The room was some kind of temple. A dessicated corpse sat in throne to the right, a sailor’s hat at its feet.

The room was filled with the freshly dead wearing four distinct sets of armor.

Valter stood, looking at their living brethren, some twenty in total.

“Who are-you?” The man’s eyes widened in his helm seeing them.

“Limos, you swore to get us our gear!” Mya yelled.

A man cried out as a red-rimmed portal appeared over the altar in the room.

Gear dropped through the hole.

“Kill them!” The man’s voice came out in a strangled scream. Runes upon his armor and down his blade flared with power as he slashed down towards Valter.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Valter set his feet, raising his arm. Armor engraved with living magma flowed in a broken current through the corridors to their left, wrapping around Valter as if a cocoon around caterpillar, their edges turning molten as they fused with one another.

Petor reached inwards, a space in his chest, three swirling beings of shadow and flame turned hungry smiles towards him, circling a white crystal in his chest.

Born from reaction he summoned those two beings.

Masssster.

Oath maker.

The words like scraped stone bore promise, bore hope, bore security.

Shadows and green flame spread from his chest, entombing him in faceless black armor with detailed crystal accents, a spear of black wood, green crystal veins stretched to a set of small scales, a grinning demon face and up to a spearhead.

Petor let out a yell, feeling like his chest was being squeezed, his body torn from the inside as if he was trying to pull a river through a needle hole.

A book of patched black shined with purple lines, changing its trajectory. Petor shifted to the side as it passed between him and Valter, slamming into Desari’s extended hand.

She turned it, opening its pages, her eyes glowed a deep purple.

Armor weaved into being from her hand that held the book, white plate with edging and running of gold. Smaller plates than Valter’s for increased protection without reducing her movement. Malleable armor created an underlayer at the joints. Her helm covered her left eye as her hair turned a deep purple, exiting out the back like a horse’s mane.

A sword belt holding a curved blade wrapped around her hips as a peaked hood draped over her helmet, leaving only her glowing eye in the shadow.

A bandolier of three pistols looped over Mya’s shoulder and down to her left hip where a cutlass found its home. She caught a tri-corn hat with a grin, placing it on her  head as she held out her left hand, rings sliding onto her outstretched fingers.

Her eyes turned milky white with a blue flame as cold as glacier waters  at their core. Her fingers withered like a corpses, she flicked two fingers, pale blue flames shot out, boring holes through two attacker’s necks.

She clicked her ring covered fingers, the bodies around them rose and fell as if under one heartbeat. A moan reaching from beyond the pale veil ran from the base of Petor’s spine spreading goosebumps as it rose.

He might’ve stepped back in fear before. He reflected the hungry smile that danced on her lips, turning to face the

To do or die.

His blood sung in his veins, drawing his spear to the ready, lowering himself, power coiled in his muscles, a treacherous smile plastered across his face as he surged forward.

The sword struck Valter’s arm as his helmet crashed into place, runes of molten iron ran through his armor like the fires of the underworld.

The man’s attack sent a shockwave through the room, pushing Valter back several paces, slicing the roof as Valter’s swords reached his hands.

The dead rose, white fire in their eyes.

“Too slow old man!” Petor laughed passing the burning monstrosity. His spear point danced among the armored men, cutting down three before they had time to draw their weapons.

The tension in his body slackened, power surging back through his spear, up his arms crashing into the white crystal in his chest, staining it red with flecks of white light. His breathing came easier, the power in his body moving smoother.

It was only a small amount of power he could draw on, handicapping him.