Chapter 36: Trial of the Seahorse

The Lance landed upright with a thud in the grass as Ronan backflipped out of harm’s way. His Mark of the Butterfly activated, and smoke billowed from his forearm.

“Not bad,” Scindo said with a big grin. “And it looks like those markings on your arm are the real thing. Aren’t they, Black Serpent?”

Ronan cocked a brow. “What did you call me?”

He’d only ever been referred to by such a name inside The Temple of the Butterfly.

Scindo’s indigo hair swayed beneath his tricorn hat as he responded, “I’ve dreamt of this day for months now. I see you and the Black Butterfly, and I hear The Shroud’s demonic voices.”

He approached the lance and tugged it from the dirt, whipping it and the packed-on soil to his side.

“That’s what The Shroud calls you both,” Scindo continued, his slur disappearing, and a thick set of black Runes spreading from his shin and up to his face, “ The Shroud calls you The Black Serpent and The Black Butterfly.”

Maritza stepped between Scindo and Ronan with her arms up. The glowing seahorses beneath Lover’s Lake scrambled about, their luminous yellow lights flickering.

“If what you say is true,” Maritza said, “then we are afflicted by the same curse. It unites us, and so you must be aware of the Hellsworn and the Black Blades.”

Scindo spit at the name and wrenched as the Runes overtook his entire arm, transforming it into something monstrous, as if he had slipped into a gauntlet of the armor Ronan had seen the Black Blades wearing. Scindo’s face, too, grew elongated and sharp, and half of it was black as a spectre. A spike pierced out of the shoulder of his leather trench coat, and it crinkled upwards like a spider leg ready to pounce.

Clove and Ike held one another, staring awestruck at the abomination. Maritza set one hand down and on the hilt of her sword.

“Oh, I know the Hellsworn,” Scindo said with a nod. He retained his carefree attitude despite his transformation, though his voice had become deeper and more guttural. “I’ve killed a Black Blade soldier before, and plan to kill many more.”

“That’s impossible,” Ronan snapped, instinctively. For a second, the chaos of the siege on The Temple of the Serpent haunted him, and he felt an ache in his abdomen from where he’d been shot by the crossbow bolt.

“We want to help!” Ike said to Scindo.

Scindo relaxed and pointed his lance at Ike and Clove. “It’s not you two that I’m worried about.”

His voice felt otherworldly, and made Clove grip Ike’s arm tighter as the two broke out in a cold sweat.

“The Shroud is not something to be taken lightly,” Scindo said. “It can overtake a warrior and turn them into one of those monsters if not controlled. I need to know that won’t happen with you both if you’re to enter my temple.”

Scindo’s twisted face turned into what the group thought was a smile, and he rushed for Maritza. In a flash of smoke, she was able to pull her sword from her sheath and block Scindo’s lance, though it was a struggle against his might. From the corner of Scindo’s mouth dripped a foul sludge, like the goop she’d seen in the Hellsworn portal of Augustate.

Next, the black spike from Scindo’s shoulder came down at Maritza’s head.

“Above you!” Ronan shouted.

He sprinted but couldn’t make it in time.

Ronan, Clove, and Ike were blown away by a concussive force. The three rolled and tumbled on the ground, the horses neighed and ran all about, and the seahorses squeaked, their lights flashing.

Ronan’s head pounded and his ears rang so loud he heard nothing else. He slammed his Hellblade’s tip to the dirt and used it to get himself back onto his feet.

The seahorses approached the edge of Lover’s Lake once more, and their collected light cast on Scindo and Maritza. The two were locked equally, and Scindo’s spike had been caught by a giant black butterfly wing that had burst from Maritza’s shoulder. Runes covered her body, and one of her eyes had become pure black.

Martiza launched herself back towards Ronan using her single wing.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Ronan said, observing the wing. Although the wing was black, Runes ran down it like the patterns on her tattoo.

Martiza was sweating and out of breath.

“It takes everything I’ve got to be in this form,” she huffed.

“You’re next, Ronan,” Scindo beckoned, twirling the lance in his clawed hand. “Prove to me that you have control over The Shroud, and that it doesn’t control you.”

Ronan put a hand on Maritza and said, “Sit this out, rest, and watch over Ike and Clove. I’ll deal with the drunk seahorse.”

Maritza nodded, her Runes and wing faded, and her skin returned to its normal rosy tan.

Scindo must’ve heard Ronan because he snickered, “There’s a reason I drink, you know.”

Ronan readied his sword, tired of the games, and Scindo polished off the rest of his bottle.

After he swallowed, his arm and face transformed back to his regular appearance. Runes remained scattered about his shin and arm, but no more than Ronan was used to seeing on himself or Maritza. The spike, however, still lurched out from Scindo’s shoulder.

“Rum,” Scindo shrugged, licking the bottle and then tossing it into the lake, “is the only thing that can suppress such power.”

“If that’s what you need to keep your curse at bay,” Ronan shouted, “then I fear you’re too far gone to it already.”

Scindo frowned, denying nothing.

“But if it’s a test of strength you want,” Ronan shouted, his arm burning and his veins going black, “Then let’s get this over with.”

Scindo’s frown flipped into a handsome smirk.

“This guy is crazy,” Clove said to Ike and Maritza.

But Maritza stared at Scindo nevertheless.

She said, “Maybe. Though I’ve had visions of him as well. Of me and Ronan fighting beside him.”

“I don’t like where any of this is going,” Ike mumbled. He whistled to the horses to try and calm them.

Ronan gripped his sword with both hands and held at the level of his waist.

“I’m faster and stronger than you,” Scindo laughed. “So let’s see you make the first move.”

The spike on his shoulder twitched.

Ronan shifted his back foot slightly, preparing to run forward and propelled by Butterfly magic. In the glimmering lights from the seahorses, Ronan saw the details of the seahorse tattoo on Scindo’s shin. There were 19 visible tally marks on his leg, and possibly even more were covered by the hem of his pants.

Scindo was far more than a Master Nightblade.

But that’s when he saw Scindo’s weakness too, and an explanation for his bizarre transformations. Like Ronan, Scindo had a tiny piece of black metal lodged in his skin, right inside the belly of his Mark of the Seahorse.

That would be Ronan’s target.

“You will need to push yourself,” The Shroud whispered. “And unlock abilities you haven’t used before.”

Ronan shut his eyes and focused, and the Hellsword ignited in bright white flames.

He circled the sword above his head, and a vortex of spiraling white fire barreled towards Scindo.