The Colossal Shade
We are gathered here tonight.
With a flickering torch held before him to ward off the yawning darkness, and a jagged sword at the ready, the bedraggled warrior descended into the eldritch catacombs of an ancient civilization.
As he plodded along through ominous gloom, the guttering torchlight barely keeping oppressive shadows at bay, the weary traveler reflected on the tragic events that brought him here.
His name was Velsparr, Pirate King of Venkata. He thought his wife and son would be safe while he was off plundering the skies, but he had underestimated the savage cunning of the Alliance. They found the hidden island chain where he and his crew and their families resided. Nearly all were slaughtered. A few of the prettier wives and consorts, including his own, were taken hostage to be sold into captivity
Velsparr and his men pursued the Alliance airships with furious vengeance. The battle was ferocious, illuminating the night skies bright as the daytime from incessant volleys of cannon fire. Velsparr sent many men from the Alliance to their demise, but his small fleet was overcome in the end. His flagship was sent plummeting to the surface, a world which was abandoned when raging oceans split the landmasses centuries ago. The survivors of humanity were forced to adapt to life on the newly formed sky islands.
Velsparr alone survived the destruction of his once mighty Warheart. He supposed he should consider himself lucky his ailing vessel crashed upon a craggy expanse of earth rather than being consumed by roiling waters that surged not far away. However, it was hard to feel anything other than indignant sorrow. He had lost everything, but he himself was not yet allowed to die.
When Alliance ships descended in a hunt for survivors, Velsparr fled into a nearby cavern carved into a seemingly unremarkable hillside. It was there he discovered the entrance to the catacombs he now traversed and, with nowhere else to go, he struck a conveniently placed torch and pressed forward.
Some unknown creature skittered in the darkness ahead of him, just beyond the reach of his torchlight. Behind, stern voices echoed off the dank stone walls pressing in around him. Velsparr cursed: the Alliance had tracked him into the cave. He could hear their heavy footfalls rapidly approaching.
Velsparr unclasped his tattered cape from over his shoulder and used it to smother the flames of his torch. Taking shallow breaths, and holding his naked blade close to his chest, he gripped the pouch tied to his belt that contained the ashes of his son.
“I’ll see you again soon, my boy,” Velsparr whispered in the darkness, his voice thick with emotion. “I wish I could save your mother, but you shall have some small measure of payback.”
He drew another, shorter sword that was sheathed next to his son’s remains. He waited with deadly, resolute calm. The telltale orange glow of firelight illuminated the dark spaces around Velsparr as he crouched in the shadows. Alliance mariners scurried past, oblivious to his presence. His blades flashed and he materialized in the midst of his pursuers.
Blood splattered as he sliced through limbs and plunged his swords into easily yielding flesh. Cries of agony and despair filled his ears, yet Velsparr continued his implacable and unrelenting slaughter. There was a clash of steel on steel when the Alliance soldiers recovered from their initial shock, and fought back. Though he was middle aged, and his body should have been wracked with fatigue, Velsparr instead felt renewed strength and vigor coursing through his muscles. He easily dodged and parried the blows of his enemies.
Misshapen tentacles slithered into the light, wrapping around the dead and dying, and dragged them into darkness. The grotesque sound of crunching bones and voracious chewing emanated from the gloom ahead. The remaining Alliance men fled in terror, but Velsparr stood his ground, transfixed. After a moment, a gravelly and malevolent voice spoke from the shadows.
“Thank you for this savory feast. I cannot tell you how many ages have passed since I have eaten so well. I have heard your mournful words, and seen your tragic memories. Wouldst thou like to live…vengefully?”
“Who…what…are you?” Velsparr struggled to keep his tone even.
There was an amused chuckle. “I can grant you the power to avenge your family. You need not know more.”
“H-how?”
“I have already given you some manner of strength to defeat these foes. You have felt this, yes? I can give you more…so much more.”
“What…what do you want from me…in return?”
“You must merely provide me with an abundant supply of such delectable morsels. If you can satiate my ravenous hunger, I will ask no more of you once your vengeance is fulfilled.”
Velsparr thought of the charred body of his son amongst the fiery ruins of Venkata. He imagined his beloved wife, terrified and surrounded by violent men eager to have their way with her. He thrust the point of his bloodied longsword into the ground and knelt before it.
“Done!”
Baleful laughter reverberated all throughout the underground labyrinth, sending a dreadful chill to worm its way up the pirate king’s spine.
Author’s Note: This story is based on
Prompt Quest #1, with additional inspiration from the song Colossal Shade by Katatonia, one of my favorite metal bands.If you enjoyed reading my Thoughts, consider showing your appreciation by helping to make my dream of quitting my day job a reality.
Fantastic! I could feel a chill up my spine when those tentacles emerged from the darkness. And I love how the character carries his son's ashes in a pouch on his belt--not even Batman does that, lol.
As a side note, it's always great when a metal song inspires a story :)
I worry for Velsparr's future, deals with eldritch horrors rarely end well though, hopefully, he exacts revenge before his horrid fated end while also dodging any feelings of forgiveness; I don't think the horror would appreciate that sort of thing. Bravo!