Isle of Beasts and Shadows (The Forgotten Isle Saga #1)

Chapter 38

Sirius’s eyes wandered, but he had yet to figure out where he was. The last thing he remembered was telling Airella—

That’s right.

From what he could tell, he was floating in a void of darkness. Countless souls hovered around him, their spectral forms gradually solidifying into humanoid shapes. Each ethereal figure bore the weight of those Sirius had devoured many years ago. As he floated through the black expanse, the souls’ collective outrage pierced the silence. Their cries of anger, disbelief, and sorrow bombarded him, evoking a tumultuous mix of emotions within him. Desperate to drown out the cacophony of anguish and curses, Sirius covered his ears, seeking solace. Suddenly, his movement ceased before a solitary soul stood out from the others.

Emmaline.

She was the one soul he regretted devouring the most. A look of serene forgiveness graced her features as she extended her radiant hand towards his cheek. Before any further interaction could unfold, a voice resonated from the shadows behind him, shattering the eerie stillness.

“Don’t trust these souls, Sirius. They are welcoming you to death.” Sirius turned to face the dark-haired stranger, only to realize it was a familiar face. His face. Alikad, the reaper that Sirius was supposedly cloned from by Father’s hand. “You can’t die, Sirius. We must merge in order to defeat Father. You need a new body, so join mine. We are the same person.”

Sirius hesitated, trying to make sense of the intricate web of connections between himself, Alikad, and Father.

“First, answer me this.” Sirius narrowed his eyes at him. “Why did Father clone you to make me instead of just using you?” Alikad’s expression darkened for a moment, a flicker of unreadable emotion crossing his face.

“He stripped you from me because I couldn’t be controlled. So, he took the piece of me that could, the same piece of my soul that was composed of compassion and kindness. The piece of me he took, the piece of me that is you… that was all he needed to wipe out humankind on the isle. To rule over the Miscreants. Though you are my clone, you do not share any of my memories. Trust me, Sirius. Your friends need you right now.” Alikad reached his hand out, a mixture of urgency and determination in his eyes. Sirius hesitated, torn between past uncertainties and the pressing need of the present moment, before finally deciding to grasp onto Alikad’s outstretched hand.

In that fleeting moment, an inexplicable sensation surged through his body. Alikad and Sirius both emitted a soft radiant glow, hinting at the convergence of their memories within Alikad’s form. Sirius, now one with Alikad, underwent a profound transformation now that his soul was whole again—his hair cascaded around his shoulders in a messy, obsidian hue, his eyes alight with a vivid yellow glow. A veil of darkness enveloped him, accentuating his every feature. The tattered cloak he wore took on an ethereal quality, billowing around him as if woven from shadows. Draped in fabric that resembled bandages, his figure exuded a haunting elegance, while the cloak, now adorned with raven feathers, trailed behind him like a murky mist.

With a sharp movement, skeletal wings unfurled from his back, a testament to his newfound essence. Despite the agony that contorted his features, he mustered the strength to cast a last glance at the captive Emmaline, his touch tender against her cheek, a silent promise etched in his gaze.

“When this is over, I will set you all free,” Alikad whispered with a solemn tone, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. Slowly, he lifted his hand, the air shimmering around his fingertips as a mask materialized on his face. The mask, etched with intricate designs, morphed into the shape of a raven’s skull, its eye sockets emanating an eerie glow.

As Alikad extended his hand, a new scythe materialized in his grasp with a dual-bladed design and a handle adorned with shimmering beads and black feathers. The blade itself gleamed in the pale moonlight of Limbo. He was now whole and strong enough to escape the dark world. He swung the blade, opening a portal and stepping through.

Alikad closed his eyes briefly, the air thick with the cacophony of anguished screams and menacing growls. In a swift movement, he opened his eyes to confront an approaching lycan, his form flickering and melding with the shadows, rendering him partially transparent.

Toweringly tall, eclipsing even the group of cowering Miscreants before him, Alikad raised his scythe high above his head, a glint of determination in his eyes. With a deft stroke, he brought the blade down, a whirlwind of motion that cleaved through his foes with ruthless precision. The aftermath left a chilling scene, with severed limbs and splattered blood painting the once pristine snowy ground in macabre hues.

He felt eminently stronger than he had originally. The newfound strength coursing through his veins gave him a sense of invigoration he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. As he reveled in this newfound power, a sudden burst of laughter echoed through the air, catching his attention. The jovial sound erupted near to where he stood, piquing his curiosity.

Turning towards the source of the laughter, he saw Arii and Jonathan being tossed to the ground.

Alikad placed a hand over his head, feeling a strange cloud of shadows descending upon his mind. It was as if his memory was being toyed with, elusive and fleeting. With a swift and purposeful movement, he made his way towards the bloodied duo, his steps barely leaving an imprint on the snowy ground.

Alikad arrived just in time and deftly caught both of them as they descended from their next shove. Arii trembled in fear as Alikad gently set him down, his wide eyes filled with a mix of awe and trepidation.

“Who are you?” Arii’s voice quivered with uncertainty, seeking reassurance amid the unexpected encounter.

Ignoring his question, Jonathan swiftly positioned himself protectively in front of the boy, drawing his sword in a defensive stance.

Alikad tilted his head in confusion, his golden eyes reflecting a mix of disbelief and curiosity behind his raven skull mask. His gaze swept over the two mortals before him, assessing the situation with a steely resolve.

Slowly, he cautiously approached them, his shoulder-length black hair swaying with each step. As he neared, a sense of wariness lingered in his gaze. With a hesitant motion, he raised his slender hand towards them, his pale skin almost glowing in the dim light.

Before he could fully process his next move, a sudden motion disrupted the air. Jonathan’s sword sliced through the space between them, severing Alikad’s hand in a single, precise strike. Shock rippled through Alikad, his eyes widening as gold blood gushed from the stump where his hand once was. Yet, strangely, he felt no pain, only a surreal detachment from the scene unfolding before him.

Alikad, amidst a blurred world, stooped to inspect the detached hand on the pristine snow. Gently placing his scythe aside, he calmly lifted the severed limb. With almost nonchalant grace, he realigned his hand, and the limb seamlessly mended itself.

Arii shuffled nervously behind Jonathan, his wide eyes fixed on Alikad. Tentatively, he approached the enigmatic being, offering a handkerchief as a gesture of peace. The fabric trembled in his grasp as he reached out, his small frame trembling in the cold.

Alikad observed Arii’s actions with a mix of surprise and curiosity, his eyes never leaving the young boy’s face. Gently, Arii wrapped the makeshift bandage around Alikad’s wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle against his icy skin.

Looking up at Alikad with a tentative smile, Arii murmured softly, “You won’t hurt us, will you?” The question lingered in the frosty air, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance.

“Arii! Get away from it! It could kill you!” Jonathan growled as Alikad pulled the boy protectively to his chest.

Alikad wasn’t exactly friendly, not as much as the young boy had hoped. However, it quickly became apparent that Alikad wasn’t directing his stand-off demeanor at Jonathan; instead, it was aimed at the shadowy figures ominously encircling them.

“Jonathan, look out!” Arii yelled, his voice filled with urgency, as Alikad’s wings thrust forward.

With a swift movement, Alikad pulled Jonathan closer, and in a stunning display, his skeletal wings detached from his body, weaving together to form a cage of bone that ensnared both Arii and Jonathan within its confines to seal them from the oncoming miscreants. As Alikad twirled his scythe and brought it down with force, a shockwave of dark mist emanated from the impact point, rapidly enveloping the area. The ground trembled beneath them, causing the boy and the soldier to stumble within the bone enclosure.

“Who is this?” An ogre-like Miscreant sneered as it drew closer to Alikad, its eyes glinting with malice.

In response, the reflection of a lycan against the gleam of Alikad’s raven skull mask growled fiercely in defiance. “I thought the only reaper on this island was the one the shadow beast just killed.”

Alikad tightened his grip on his scythe, his voice a low whisper filled with determination. “Kill the Miscreants,” he commanded, his gaze unwavering as he prepared for the impending confrontation.

A strong vibration rippled through the air, causing a sudden jolt of fear in the Miscreants standing before Alikad. Among them, a large, green, and grotesque werewolf with rotted fur leaped ferociously at a bloodsucker, sinking its decayed fangs deep into the victim’s vulnerable throat. The Miscreant’s piercing screams swiftly morphed into gurgles, their desperate attempts to hold on to life futile.

As the fallen Miscreant lay lifeless, Alikad fixed his gaze on the other encroaching figures, now retreating in horror. The gruesome werewolf, its maw stained with fresh blood, exhibited bits of flesh and sinew dangling from its gory teeth, a chilling sight that struck fear into the hearts of those present.

A sudden, piercing scream reverberated through the forest, sending shivers down the spine. Emerging from the shadows of the woods, pale and decaying husks of Miscreants slithered forth, their movements hauntingly slow yet purposeful. Like a macabre ballet, they descended upon the living Miscreants, a symphony of agony unfolding as bites and screams resonated from every corner, painting a gruesome tableau of carnage.

Alikad, now the puppet master of these undead horrors, orchestrated the grim dance of death, the souls of the fallen miscreants becoming his dark currency. The forest bore witness to a chilling spectacle of darkness, where the line between life and death blurred amidst the chaos and despair.

“Wait, Sirius? Is that you?” Jonathan yelled over the deafening cacophony of war.

The name caught Alikad’s attention immediately, prompting him to pivot towards the source of the shout. As he began striding purposefully in their direction, a menacing troll barreled straight at him, intent on causing chaos. Yet, with a swift and precise motion, Alikad cleaved the Miscreant’s body in two with a single swipe of his scythe. The metallic scent of blood filled the air as crimson droplets splattered across his determined face.

Having reached the protective barrier he erected around Jonathan and Arii, Alikad’s presence exuded both strength and resolve. As he deftly swung his scythe through the air, the bones composing the structure shifted seamlessly, returning to their original formation on his back. This action not only secured their safety but also created a portal leading to the ethereal realm of Limbo. Gesturing towards the shimmering passageway, Alikad ushered Jonathan and Arii to step through it for their own safety.

However, just as Jonathan paused on the threshold before entering fully, he withdrew his leg hesitantly, fixing Alikad with a resolute gaze. “If you truly are our friend, help Airella, she’s in danger,” he implored, his voice tinged with urgency. With those words hanging in the charged atmosphere, Jonathan proceeded through the portal, leaving Alikad to confront his foes alone.

As Alikad raised his scythe, preparing to engage the encroaching horde of Miscreants, a sudden memory pierced his consciousness, causing him to grimace in discomfort. In his mind’s eye, he stood before a shadowy figure of immense stature that loomed ominously over him.

Conivx is my true name , the figure intoned cryptically, its voice resonating with dark authority.

The name echoed through his mind relentlessly as he skillfully sliced through each Miscreant that crossed his path. Blood stained the once pristine snowy ground, creating a stark contrast to the purity of the surroundings. It appeared he was wading through the densest concentration of the vilest of creatures, their twisted forms no match for his swift justice. Limbs tore asunder, causing lifeless bodies to crumple to the earth as their essence fled their monstrous forms. Alikad, now a figure cloaked in darkness, consumed the fallen souls with a voracious hunger for retribution.

A surge of rage coursed through him, his wings swatting aside any Miscreant foolish enough to attempt an ambush from the shadows. Emerging from the throng of horrified adversaries, Alikad surveyed the aftermath of his onslaught. A significant number lay dead, reduced to mere piles of flesh and bone amidst the chilling silence. The haunting growls and howls of the undead, drawing nearer, spurred Alikad into action, vanishing from sight.