Hexblade
By Andy Morris
Aurelius Nitrous was once an adventurer who delved too deep into places that were too dark. He travelled far and wide, seeking treasures to impress his sweetheart, Genevieve. He always promised her that one day he’d gather enough riches to make her a queen. Genevieve didn’t share his love for material possessions but instead found pleasure in the pursuit of knowledge. Whenever Aurelius brought home artefacts from his travels, she relished the opportunity to study them.
His latest adventure saw him travelling abroad through a craggy mountainous region. He stopped in a town where the hardy folk were a friendly, albeit superstitious, bunch. They told him about a recent explosion in a mine that had uncovered an ancient underground temple. According to legend, sorcerers would gather here in secret to perform forbidden rites and summon otherworldly beings. The townsfolk refused to go near the temple for fear of what could be waiting in the darkness. They planned to blow it up and reseal the entrance before anything inside could awaken and find its way out. If Aurelius wanted to recover any treasures, he would need to explore the caves that night.
Undercover of darkness and wrapped in warm furs, the young adventurer crept into the mine. He ventured deep into the earth until he came upon the entrance to the temple. Loose rocks and the faint smell of gunpowder confirmed this was the site. He continued down the passageway until it opened into a yawning cavern. Ancient stone pillars held the crumbling ceiling overhead. On the walls, faint drawings and etchings danced with the shadows from his lantern. Whether the images chronicled specific events or described dire warnings to any trespassers, the erosion of time had made it impossible to decipher. In the centre of the chamber stood a stone dais. The passage of ages and the recent explosion had caused it to crack open. Dirt and dust spilt from the opening, along with a sword. The weapon was shaped like a serpent, with its head and neck forming the handle. Whispers now haunted the darkness, and Aurelius realised they were somehow coming from the sword itself. He couldn’t make out any words, but perhaps if he held it closer to his ear, he could discern what they were saying. Genevieve would be fascinated by this, he thought to himself, as he lifted the blade free of its tomb. Immediately, the handle began to shift beneath his hand. The steel grip flexed, and the snake’s head reared up in a silent hiss. Its jaws opened wide and bit down upon his wrist. The fangs punctured his skin and delivered a venom that was not of this world. A freezing sensation, colder than ice, spread out from the wound and up his arm. It lasted but a moment, then the world shifted, and everything went black.
Aurelius awoke in bed, and he felt different. The world had taken on a murky quality as if he were submerged underwater. He had no recollection of how he got back to his cottage. Or how he escaped the mine. These memories were missing, and he soon realised he was losing more. At first, minutes would go by without him noticing. Then hours passed of which he had no memory. His waking moments seemed like a series of dreams colliding into one another. Aurelius kept his concerns to himself. He didn’t want to worry Genevieve but, as the absences lengthened, his unease grew. One moment, it would be morning, and he would be outside chopping wood. Then in the next instant, it would be evening, and he'd find himself atop a galloping horse, riding home through nearby fields with no idea of where he’d been or what he’d been doing. The thing that concerned Aurelius the most was that he was now married to Genevieve but, he could recall no details of his proposal or the ceremony itself.
Mid-summer became late autumn.
Somehow three months had passed since his return from the mine, but it only felt like a couple of weeks. As well as his loss of time, he was now experiencing physical changes. His skin was turning a pale blue as if he were freezing cold but, he felt no chill. Light, he also noticed, seemed to flee from him. Darkness and shadows pooled around him wherever he went. These effects became more intense with every lapse of time. He was now losing whole days, sometimes even a week at a time. He needed to tell Genevieve. She would know what to do. However, when he approached her, he realised she already knew.
“Sometimes I look at you and you,” she whispered. “And you’re no longer there. I don’t know where you go, but I know who replaces you, and he is staying longer each time.” She glanced at the sword he had found in the cave. It hung on the wall above the fireplace.
“That sword,” Aurelius followed her gaze. “That’s the cause of all this. That’s what started it!”
Genevieve looked away. The weight of concern lay heavy in her voice. “I won’t lose you.” She quietly promised. “Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth, I’ll find a way to undo this.”
Before Aurelius could respond, the world shifted again.
How much time had passed? Aurelius did not know. It could have been months or even years. He recognised the room as his bedroom, yet it was also unfamiliar to him. It looked like the home of a noble or a wealthy merchant with tapestries and fine arts decorating the walls. The serpent-shaped sword was displayed prominently on a plaque upon the wall. On the opposite side of the room hung an impressive gold-framed mirror. When Aurelius saw his reflection, he gasped. His eyes glowed amber as if flames were dancing around his pupils. His bare skin was now a deeper shade of blue, and short black horns protruded from the top of his forehead. There was no doubt Aurelius was becoming something else. When he lost time, this other creature was in ascendence, controlling him, and it was getting stronger by the day. More supernatural abilities were beginning to show. Aurelius discovered in moments of anguish or pain, searing flames now burst unbidden from his hands.
Somehow, Aurelius was now a baron of the county. He often found himself out and about tending to businesses of which he knew nothing. When the new baron found himself in the company of other people, they were cautious and fearful. He tried to reassure them and encourage them to be at ease. After all, he was just a simple man who only wanted to provide for his wife. He had no wish to assert his will on others, but his efforts to comfort his neighbours fell short. In the end, he resigned himself to avoiding folk altogether. When he ‘awoke’ in the company of others, he would hastily make his excuses and retreat to his home. The magical darkness enveloped him in a cloak of shadows as he fled back to his castle, like some creature of the night.
Genevieve continued to search for a cure that would banish the devil inside him. So far, her research had proved fruitless. She had taken up adventuring and travelled far and wide while Aurelius hid himself away. She visited colleges and sages, seeking out those who knew about alien creatures and possession. She learned that the thing taking over her husband had been imprisoned, inside the sword. When Aurelius touched it, the demon transferred itself into him where it was now consuming him – becoming him. She had to find a way to stop it before Aurelius was lost forever.
Genevieve had to undertake her research in secret. If the demon knew of her plans, it would surely punish her. Her friends and neighbours offered her no help. Wariness and suspicion grew in the surrounding towns and villages as word spread of a devil inhabiting the castle. Poor harvests, weak cattle, sickness and diseases were all blamed on the new baron and his wife. Fear and anger spread through the communities and the distrust threatened to boil into violence.
Time passed in the blink of an eye, and the fiend continued to go about its tasks unimpeded. It was in dominance more often than not. The periods when Aurelius was in control were becoming shorter and less frequent. One morning Aurelius awoke to find himself sat at the head of a long dining table. Decadent wooden panels covered the walls. The tall windows were shuttered, and candlelight provided the only illumination. Outside something was burning. The acrid stench of smoke permeated the room. The smell of destruction carried with it panicked cries and aggressive shouts from outside. Aurelius couldn’t make out any words. As he went to investigate, he became aware of Genevieve standing behind him. Only, it couldn’t be her because this woman was much older than his wife. His sweetheart was 22 years old, and this other figure was more advanced in age. Crow’s feet stretched from her eyes. Lines marked her forehead, and her hair, once glossy and black, was now streaked with grey. He asked her what was happening, but she shook her head.
“Pay it no mind, my sweet,” Genevieve replied. “I don’t know how long we’ve got. I’m still fighting the demon. I’ve put him to sleep for now but, when he awakens, he’ll be angry.”
Aurelius got to his feet, but Genevieve put her hand to his chest to calm him.
“I don’t care. I’ve not seen you – the real you – for so long. I wanted you to know I haven’t given up, and I never will.”
“What can I do? How can I fight him?” Aurelius asked, but before his wife could answer, the world changed again.
This time when Aurelius woke up, he felt that an age had passed. He was in a bedroom even grander and even more luxurious than his previous one. It was the size of a paddock, and the bed was even larger than the cottage he lived in with Genevieve. No expense had been spared in the decoration of this room. Life-size portraits of regal aristocrats and exotic landscapes covered the walls. Several other decorations, possibly mirrors, were covered over as if they'd been hidden purposefully from his view.
What had he become?
Above the bed, a crystal cabinet held the sword with the serpent handle. This place must surely be the home of a king and queen but, he became aware of moaning. Long, drawn-out screams and haunting wails drifted into the room. Beyond these walls, dozens of people were crying out in the most agonising misery. It was the stuff of nightmares as if this building stood upon a pit of despair. Aurelius sat up and was about to investigate when someone touched him on the shoulder. He turned around to see an old lady lying next to him. Her wispy grey hair was like a tangle of cobwebs that had settled over her dry parchment-like of skin.
"My love," she croaked in a dry, weak voice. This woman wasn't his Genevieve. She couldn't be, but as he stared at her, the truth slowly revealed itself. Despite her age, the bright spark of intellect still shone in her eyes. Or it shone in one eye at least. Where her left eye used to be was now just a knot of scar tissue. Thick white lines crisscrossed the flesh that sealed the empty socket closed.
“What’s happened?”
Genevieve’s bony hand went to her empty left eye, but she stopped herself and gently touched his cheek.
“It’s nothing. I’ve had it a long time now, and I’d do it all again." She said defiantly. “I never gave up on you, my love, but in the end, he was too strong.”
“Where are we? What’s that noise?”
“That?” she cocked her head to one side. The wailing grew louder before receding again like a wave on an ocean of torment.
“Oh, I hardly notice it these days,” she sighed wearily. “It’s always there, day and night. It’s his business and, he says it’s necessary," she paused. "As for where we are: We’re in our palace. We rule the land now as king and queen. Or at least he and I rule but, I won’t be here for much longer.”
Genevieve had almost shrunk with age and could find no words of comfort.
“He’s looked after me over the years,” Genevieve continued, always the optimist. “I’ve had what you could call a good life, considering. You always said you’d gather enough riches to make me a queen and, in a way, you have." She gave a weak humourless smile. “He’s not entirely without mercy either. He’s permitted me to see you one last time. I don’t think you’ll come back after this. At least, I hope not, for your sake. The world is a very different place now. I want you to know that I never gave up. I’ve always loved you, and I always will."
Then the world shifted, and this time Aurelius did not come back.
His latest adventure saw him travelling abroad through a craggy mountainous region. He stopped in a town where the hardy folk were a friendly, albeit superstitious, bunch. They told him about a recent explosion in a mine that had uncovered an ancient underground temple. According to legend, sorcerers would gather here in secret to perform forbidden rites and summon otherworldly beings. The townsfolk refused to go near the temple for fear of what could be waiting in the darkness. They planned to blow it up and reseal the entrance before anything inside could awaken and find its way out. If Aurelius wanted to recover any treasures, he would need to explore the caves that night.
Undercover of darkness and wrapped in warm furs, the young adventurer crept into the mine. He ventured deep into the earth until he came upon the entrance to the temple. Loose rocks and the faint smell of gunpowder confirmed this was the site. He continued down the passageway until it opened into a yawning cavern. Ancient stone pillars held the crumbling ceiling overhead. On the walls, faint drawings and etchings danced with the shadows from his lantern. Whether the images chronicled specific events or described dire warnings to any trespassers, the erosion of time had made it impossible to decipher. In the centre of the chamber stood a stone dais. The passage of ages and the recent explosion had caused it to crack open. Dirt and dust spilt from the opening, along with a sword. The weapon was shaped like a serpent, with its head and neck forming the handle. Whispers now haunted the darkness, and Aurelius realised they were somehow coming from the sword itself. He couldn’t make out any words, but perhaps if he held it closer to his ear, he could discern what they were saying. Genevieve would be fascinated by this, he thought to himself, as he lifted the blade free of its tomb. Immediately, the handle began to shift beneath his hand. The steel grip flexed, and the snake’s head reared up in a silent hiss. Its jaws opened wide and bit down upon his wrist. The fangs punctured his skin and delivered a venom that was not of this world. A freezing sensation, colder than ice, spread out from the wound and up his arm. It lasted but a moment, then the world shifted, and everything went black.
Aurelius awoke in bed, and he felt different. The world had taken on a murky quality as if he were submerged underwater. He had no recollection of how he got back to his cottage. Or how he escaped the mine. These memories were missing, and he soon realised he was losing more. At first, minutes would go by without him noticing. Then hours passed of which he had no memory. His waking moments seemed like a series of dreams colliding into one another. Aurelius kept his concerns to himself. He didn’t want to worry Genevieve but, as the absences lengthened, his unease grew. One moment, it would be morning, and he would be outside chopping wood. Then in the next instant, it would be evening, and he'd find himself atop a galloping horse, riding home through nearby fields with no idea of where he’d been or what he’d been doing. The thing that concerned Aurelius the most was that he was now married to Genevieve but, he could recall no details of his proposal or the ceremony itself.
Mid-summer became late autumn.
Somehow three months had passed since his return from the mine, but it only felt like a couple of weeks. As well as his loss of time, he was now experiencing physical changes. His skin was turning a pale blue as if he were freezing cold but, he felt no chill. Light, he also noticed, seemed to flee from him. Darkness and shadows pooled around him wherever he went. These effects became more intense with every lapse of time. He was now losing whole days, sometimes even a week at a time. He needed to tell Genevieve. She would know what to do. However, when he approached her, he realised she already knew.
“Sometimes I look at you and you,” she whispered. “And you’re no longer there. I don’t know where you go, but I know who replaces you, and he is staying longer each time.” She glanced at the sword he had found in the cave. It hung on the wall above the fireplace.
“That sword,” Aurelius followed her gaze. “That’s the cause of all this. That’s what started it!”
Genevieve looked away. The weight of concern lay heavy in her voice. “I won’t lose you.” She quietly promised. “Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth, I’ll find a way to undo this.”
Before Aurelius could respond, the world shifted again.
How much time had passed? Aurelius did not know. It could have been months or even years. He recognised the room as his bedroom, yet it was also unfamiliar to him. It looked like the home of a noble or a wealthy merchant with tapestries and fine arts decorating the walls. The serpent-shaped sword was displayed prominently on a plaque upon the wall. On the opposite side of the room hung an impressive gold-framed mirror. When Aurelius saw his reflection, he gasped. His eyes glowed amber as if flames were dancing around his pupils. His bare skin was now a deeper shade of blue, and short black horns protruded from the top of his forehead. There was no doubt Aurelius was becoming something else. When he lost time, this other creature was in ascendence, controlling him, and it was getting stronger by the day. More supernatural abilities were beginning to show. Aurelius discovered in moments of anguish or pain, searing flames now burst unbidden from his hands.
Somehow, Aurelius was now a baron of the county. He often found himself out and about tending to businesses of which he knew nothing. When the new baron found himself in the company of other people, they were cautious and fearful. He tried to reassure them and encourage them to be at ease. After all, he was just a simple man who only wanted to provide for his wife. He had no wish to assert his will on others, but his efforts to comfort his neighbours fell short. In the end, he resigned himself to avoiding folk altogether. When he ‘awoke’ in the company of others, he would hastily make his excuses and retreat to his home. The magical darkness enveloped him in a cloak of shadows as he fled back to his castle, like some creature of the night.
Genevieve continued to search for a cure that would banish the devil inside him. So far, her research had proved fruitless. She had taken up adventuring and travelled far and wide while Aurelius hid himself away. She visited colleges and sages, seeking out those who knew about alien creatures and possession. She learned that the thing taking over her husband had been imprisoned, inside the sword. When Aurelius touched it, the demon transferred itself into him where it was now consuming him – becoming him. She had to find a way to stop it before Aurelius was lost forever.
Genevieve had to undertake her research in secret. If the demon knew of her plans, it would surely punish her. Her friends and neighbours offered her no help. Wariness and suspicion grew in the surrounding towns and villages as word spread of a devil inhabiting the castle. Poor harvests, weak cattle, sickness and diseases were all blamed on the new baron and his wife. Fear and anger spread through the communities and the distrust threatened to boil into violence.
Time passed in the blink of an eye, and the fiend continued to go about its tasks unimpeded. It was in dominance more often than not. The periods when Aurelius was in control were becoming shorter and less frequent. One morning Aurelius awoke to find himself sat at the head of a long dining table. Decadent wooden panels covered the walls. The tall windows were shuttered, and candlelight provided the only illumination. Outside something was burning. The acrid stench of smoke permeated the room. The smell of destruction carried with it panicked cries and aggressive shouts from outside. Aurelius couldn’t make out any words. As he went to investigate, he became aware of Genevieve standing behind him. Only, it couldn’t be her because this woman was much older than his wife. His sweetheart was 22 years old, and this other figure was more advanced in age. Crow’s feet stretched from her eyes. Lines marked her forehead, and her hair, once glossy and black, was now streaked with grey. He asked her what was happening, but she shook her head.
“Pay it no mind, my sweet,” Genevieve replied. “I don’t know how long we’ve got. I’m still fighting the demon. I’ve put him to sleep for now but, when he awakens, he’ll be angry.”
Aurelius got to his feet, but Genevieve put her hand to his chest to calm him.
“I don’t care. I’ve not seen you – the real you – for so long. I wanted you to know I haven’t given up, and I never will.”
“What can I do? How can I fight him?” Aurelius asked, but before his wife could answer, the world changed again.
This time when Aurelius woke up, he felt that an age had passed. He was in a bedroom even grander and even more luxurious than his previous one. It was the size of a paddock, and the bed was even larger than the cottage he lived in with Genevieve. No expense had been spared in the decoration of this room. Life-size portraits of regal aristocrats and exotic landscapes covered the walls. Several other decorations, possibly mirrors, were covered over as if they'd been hidden purposefully from his view.
What had he become?
Above the bed, a crystal cabinet held the sword with the serpent handle. This place must surely be the home of a king and queen but, he became aware of moaning. Long, drawn-out screams and haunting wails drifted into the room. Beyond these walls, dozens of people were crying out in the most agonising misery. It was the stuff of nightmares as if this building stood upon a pit of despair. Aurelius sat up and was about to investigate when someone touched him on the shoulder. He turned around to see an old lady lying next to him. Her wispy grey hair was like a tangle of cobwebs that had settled over her dry parchment-like of skin.
"My love," she croaked in a dry, weak voice. This woman wasn't his Genevieve. She couldn't be, but as he stared at her, the truth slowly revealed itself. Despite her age, the bright spark of intellect still shone in her eyes. Or it shone in one eye at least. Where her left eye used to be was now just a knot of scar tissue. Thick white lines crisscrossed the flesh that sealed the empty socket closed.
“What’s happened?”
Genevieve’s bony hand went to her empty left eye, but she stopped herself and gently touched his cheek.
“It’s nothing. I’ve had it a long time now, and I’d do it all again." She said defiantly. “I never gave up on you, my love, but in the end, he was too strong.”
“Where are we? What’s that noise?”
“That?” she cocked her head to one side. The wailing grew louder before receding again like a wave on an ocean of torment.
“Oh, I hardly notice it these days,” she sighed wearily. “It’s always there, day and night. It’s his business and, he says it’s necessary," she paused. "As for where we are: We’re in our palace. We rule the land now as king and queen. Or at least he and I rule but, I won’t be here for much longer.”
Genevieve had almost shrunk with age and could find no words of comfort.
“He’s looked after me over the years,” Genevieve continued, always the optimist. “I’ve had what you could call a good life, considering. You always said you’d gather enough riches to make me a queen and, in a way, you have." She gave a weak humourless smile. “He’s not entirely without mercy either. He’s permitted me to see you one last time. I don’t think you’ll come back after this. At least, I hope not, for your sake. The world is a very different place now. I want you to know that I never gave up. I’ve always loved you, and I always will."
Then the world shifted, and this time Aurelius did not come back.