Luminescence 6

He pulled out a dagger from his belt and sent it flying towards the creature. It hit its mark an inch deep into a layer of black blubber. Its scream pierced the hut as the blubber hissed and melted around the dagger.

            “Silver of Valhalla,” Marcus straightened once more, “courtesy of the brethren you betrayed. There is only one relief,” he pulled out a vial from a leather satchel tied around his waist. Marcus Ambruge was dressed like a colonial tribesman even though his people though living in rudimentary mud huts and basic housing wore clothing more akin to the western world. Not Marcus, not at all. He’d worn all forms of clothing and found his body most comfortable in nothing but a loin cloth and spear. It had been tradition in the village to hunt naked with only a spear the first time.

            It was as freeing then as it was now.

            He held the vial aloft in his outstretched palm, closing it as soon as he sensed the invisible limb of the creature move towards it. The creature let out an agonising hiss as its blubber continued to smoulder around the edges of the blade. “The one you seek already lives,” it hissed. “She is the only thing that can save you, but she is young, not ready and she will never be ready.”

            Marcus Ambruge said nothing, made no move.

            “The vial, give it to me. Give me the antidote.”

            “This,” Marcus tossed the vial in the air.

            It was snatched up on a phantom wind drifting to the creature’s spindly fingers as it fingered open the contents and hissed at the touch of what was inside the vial.

            The vial dropped and rolled its contents spilling out on bones.

            Marcus’s gaze glittered with the silver of the knife, “There is no cure to Valhalla silver, save for a pure soul.”