Immortal

A Trials of Light and Darkness Story

Prologue

At first, when I began to have visions of the past after I recovered Ceristo's locket, I didn't even notice all the little inconsistencies that set the visions apart from Wulfric Shaw's retelling of Everdark's first invasion. I was too excited to look beyond the veneer.

Elsa's diary

The Countryside of England,

December 12th, 1843

Hans Westergaard watched the lazy snowflakes drift past the window of his train's compartment. Underneath him, the seat vibrated slightly from the chugging motion of the big locomotive down the track. He didn't feel as if he were moving quickly, yet the whitened countryside beyond his window flew past, moving faster even than it would atop the back of a galloping horse.

Snow was more common in these parts of England than in the Moorish country, but locomotives were certainly not. The big metal behemoths were new here, the tracks laid just last summer. The inside of Hans's compartment still smelled faintly of paint and lacquer. Times were changing, and the world seemed to be speeding up.

Hans reached inside his jacket and idly removed one of the six-shooter pistols that he carried from its underarm holster to check the safety. Three months ago, an ancient evil called Everdark had staged a massive invasion of the earth, using an army of skilled wizards and the emptied pits of hell to serve as an army. In Arendelle, Hans, Elsa and the others had barely been able to survive. In the aftermath, they'd realized that the world would need to band together to survive, and under the orders of the newly crowned empress Anna Siguror, Hans had set out to England to try to further that goal.

And so he rode a train across the countryside towards London, trying to figure out how he was going to get the English to agree to join the Unified Empire. Their little nation had gained legitimacy since Corona become a part of it, but it was still going to be difficult to convince them of anything. Hell, it had been a tough sell to get Corona to join them, and Elsa and Anna were related to the rulers there.

There was a knock at the door to Hans's compartment, and he glanced over at it. He was alone in his compartment, not because he was riding first class, but because it was a Sunday and the train was undersold. He stowed his pistol away and got it. A crisp Englishman with a gray little mustache nodded to him.

"We will be arriving at the station within the hour, sir."

"Thank you," Hans said, nodding. "Have you checked the crew registrar?"

The man frowned, indicating his distaste at being asked to do such an improper thing. "Yes, sir," he replied. "And I can assure you that none of the things that you said we might find there were true. The entire crew is known to me, sir, and they are all quite experienced with the operation of this machine."

"Well, thank you anyway, then," Hans said. He nodded again, and the man continued down the hallway, knocking on the door of the next compartment to bring them the same news.

Hans stepped out of his own and started walking backwards, towards the dining car at the back of the train. He hadn't really expected any servants of Everdark to have replaced one or more of the crew, but he couldn't be too sure, these days. He reached the door and nodded to a young man in a uniform who was stationed there to help elderly people and the frail cross the juncture between the cars.

"Heading for the dining car, Mr. Westergaard?" The man asked.

"Yes, Arthur, I think that I'd like a cup of coffee before we reach the station," Hans replied. It really was early in the morning, but that wasn't what he was headed this way for.

"Sounds good, Mr. Westergaard. Be careful, it's very cold out."

Hans stepped out into the air, surprised by how dramatic the blast of cold was. Snow blew into his face, seeming much more violent out here than from his window back on the train. He reached out and closed a hand around the iron railing, quickly making his way over to the other car. The rattling of the cars was amplified out here, and though they were crossing over relatively flat countryside, Hans had to concentrate to keep his balance.

He opened the door to the dining car and stepped in amidst a flurry of snowflakes, nodding to the lone couple sitting at the bar who had turned to look at him. Hans walked across the car, which was about the same size as the one his compartment was in, but seemed far larger, because the space was more open, and sat at one of the booths. There was a stand for a little flag on the table that he could raise to get the attention of a waiter. He put it up, and took a newspaper from the box beside the wall and unfolded it.

It was old – they wouldn't have today's paper yet, of course, they'd been driving all morning – the front-page headline was about an ongoing labor dispute in Sussex. There was still no mention of Everdark's invasion in the British media. Hans wasn't sure whether they were somehow unaware of the events, or if this was another sign of Everdark's ability to subtly influence the world. Either way, England was going to be caught unaware when the warpath came to them.

The waiter came over, and Hans ordered a cup of coffee, and then he settled back into his seat, tuning out the newspaper in front of him and doing his best to listen to the young couple sitting at the bar. This couple had been traveling on the same route as him since his trip to London began, and each morning when he went to the dining car for a cup of coffee, they were already in it. Hans was an early riser. He wasn't positive that the couple was tailing him, but he wanted to be sure.

So now he was playing cat-and-mouse with them.

The couple spoke in low tones, and it took Hans a few moments to discern that the woman wasn't speaking English. It sounded like Russian to him. The man replied to her, in English. His voice was low, but more distinct than the woman beside him.

"If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. I just need you to support me."

She replied, sounding pensive.

"I know. I know. But try to think about all of the work that we put in to this. We can't walk away from this anymore."

Hans lost the next few seconds of their conversation as the train's horn blew, loud and long. He frowned. Normally the engineer wouldn't use the horn this early in the morning, because it would wake everyone on board. That meant there had to be… something on the track ahead? Hans set down his paper as the horn subsided and saw the door to the car closing. The bar was empty.

Hans stood up just as the waiter was walking back over to Hans's table with a pot of coffee. Hans tossed a crumpled bill on the table and didn't wait to explain, rushing after the pair.

He stepped out again onto the connection between the cars, immediately buffeted by the wind. It was even stronger now, the snow piling up in drifts two feet high around the tracks. The train dominated his vision – he couldn't see what the problem was, on the tracks up ahead. He looked around himself, and saw a ladder, beside the door into the next car, that lead up to the roof.

Anna had said that he needed to be less impulsive. But this seemed like a better idea than trying to chase the couple through the train. Hans dashed over to the ladder and started to climb.

xxx

He clambered up quickly, stopping once to adjust the scarf that he wore, pulling it up tighter against the wind. He reached the top and stepped onto the top of the car, which was forgivingly flat, and he crouched there for a few moments. He was near the back of the train, and the locomotive began to round a bend in the track some several hundred feet away. It was loud up here, a cacophony of metal chunking noises playing over a constant, steady roar.

Hans turned to his left and saw another train, perhaps a quarter mile away and running on a track practically parallel to their own. Hans's train blasted its horn again, and Hans realized that the other train shouldn't be there. The tracks were going to meet somewhere soon, and both of the trains were going to be there when they did.

Hans stood up, extending his arms in either direction for balance, and started to run forwards, along the train. He reached a juncture between cars and jumped without thinking. For a moment he soared, adrift amidst a sea of flurries. Then he landed hard, falling to one knee.

"Why did I know that you'd be up here?" A voice called out from behind him.

Hans frowned, and turned as he stood. Three men in dark coats had stepped up on to the roof of the car just behind his own. They were tall, burly men, and they all wore masks. The couple, it seemed, weren't alone on this train. Hans threw his coat open and reached for his guns, but the lead man shouted to him again.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you. You see," he said, reaching into his own coat and removing a pistol of his own, "we have you very outgunned, and you don't have any cover. They say that you're a daring man, Hans Westergaard, but I'm sure that even you can see reason."

As the man spoke, his goons each raised a rifle and trained them on him. Hans wondered if the kick from such large arms might be enough to knock them off the train. He glanced to the side again, at the other train. He had no idea how far away down the track they would meet. Did the train look closer than before? He couldn't tell.

Well, it was time to make some decisions.

Hans set his jaw and fired three rounds at the men even as he collapsed to the roof of the train. The bullets went wild, but he just needed to make them flinch. He saw muzzle flashes from the rifles, and then he fell through the roof of the car, slipping through wood and steel as if it were no more substantial than a bedsheet. He landed in the middle of a passenger compartment with a loud crash. He heard screaming, and as he rolled to his feet he saw an elderly man and woman staring at him with horror.

"Get under your seats," he said. "Lock the door to your compartment and get under your seats. Don't let anyone in."

He threw open the door and stepped back into the hallway, shutting it behind him. He heard the shouting of the men faintly over the roaring of the train. He had a few seconds before they got down to this car.

Hans was quite sure that he was one of a very short list of humans to have had not one magical ability in his lifetime, but three. Considering that he hadn't been born with any, he thought that was a pretty good record. For most of the last year, he'd had abilities granted to him by a series of complex rituals performed by Hades, his old master. He'd become a wizard by necessity, to help fight against the growing darkness. He'd lost those powers a few months ago, when he died.

Of course, he'd come back to life, and with a whole new set of magical abilities to make killing bad guys easier. Apparently, his work on earth wasn't done, and the universe seemed determined that he see it through.

All the same, he wasn't eager to push his luck and die again any time soon.

Hans ran along the corridor between the compartments, casting each door open and shouting a warning to the occupants. Finally, he opened a door and found it empty inside. He left the door open and ducked behind it just as a bang and a blast of wintery air marked Hans's assailants entering the car.

He shoved one of his guns back into its holster and gripped the other with two hands, crouching completely inside the compartment. He needed accuracy now. One of the men tried a shot, and a bullet splintered the open door. A chip of wood stung Hans's cheek.

Damn. I sort of hoped that thing would be able to take a bullet, he thought.

"Come on, Hans!" The leader called out again. "Don't make us start shooting civilians!"

Hans wasn't surprised that his identity had been compromised – after all, he was traveling under his real name – but he hadn't expected servants of Everdark to find him before he even got to London.

It was sloppy to not travel under an alias, he thought. It's getting harder and harder to stay ahead of the Cult of Entropy.

"That's not much of a threat, considering that everyone on this train is going to die anyway," he called back. It was a bluff, of course, but he just needed to stall them.

He started to creep forwards, the sound of his movement lost under the roar of the train. He crouched behind the door now, holding the pistol by his side and getting ready to shoot.

"Oh, Hans? You don't have a grand, noble plan to try to save them all?"

Hans frowned. It sounded like an invitation, to try to get him to talk more. What if they had the same plan he did? Hans swore and whirled around to the other side of the car. The door was still closed. Maybe –

The window in Hans's compartment exploded, and one of the men swung through it. Before Hans could get his gun to bear, the man swung a meaty fist down and clobbered the top of Hans's head. He hit the ground and almost lost control of his pistol, gasping with pain. The man stomped on Hans's hand, and he heard something crunch. He let go of the gun and took two more heavy blows as he dragged himself to his feet. Splinters tore at his arms as another bullet hit the doorway.

There was screaming from the other compartments now. Hans gritted his teeth and swung back, landing a solid blow on the man's left temple. His head spun, and he stumbled back against the wall of the compartment.

Hans leapt forwards and landed three body blows in quick succession. The man doubled over, and Hans rammed his elbow into the back of the man's head. He hit the floor, and Hans whipped about to look for his gun. The train jostled abruptly, and Hans cast a glance out the window. He could see the other train through it, racing alongside far closer than before. They were getting down to the wire. Hans found his gun and picked it up, wincing at the pain in his fingers. At least one was broken.

Hans turned around to cast another glance at the fallen man. After a moment's thought, Hans didn't shoot him. He wasn't getting up any time soon anyway. Then Hans turned back to the hallway running down the middle of the train. How was he going to get out of here? There were still two hostiles at the other end of the train, both with guns pointed at the splintered doorway that hung open. If he tried to win a firefight with them, he would probably lose. If he tried to run, he'd get shot in the back.

But he didn't have time for this. Their train was still throttling on at full speed, so someone had made it to the engineer. Maybe the couple from before. Maybe there were even more hostiles on this train. Whatever the case, Hans needed a way out. He turned in a half-circle, desperate for something that could help him, and stopped when he saw the open window.

xxx

Hans leapt to the next car, landing roughly. He scrambled to his feet and kept running, in a crouch, along the cars. Once every few seconds, he glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see the forms of the two men he'd left behind clambering up onto the roof to follow him. Hans was halfway to the front of the train now, breath coming heavily. He glanced to his left, and saw the other train now twenty feet away, barreling along full speed ahead. It was made up of shipping containers, not passenger cars.

At least he only had one train full of civilians to worry about.

He reached the edge of the car and got ready to jump to the next when a strange snapping noise cut through the constant roar. He frowned and looked down. A small, circular hole perforated the roof to his left.

Of course they wouldn't follow you on to the roof, you idiot, some detached part of him thought. They're just going to shoot up at you from below.

Hans jumped, a flurry of bullets bursting through the roof after him. He landed halfway off the car and pulled himself up with his arms, rolling back to his feet and continuing to run. He picked up the pace and sprinted across the last three cars, counting on sheer luck to keep him alive as bullets snapped through the roof all around him. At last, he reached the locomotive, and he slid the last five feet and swung himself over the side, landing on the connection between the locomotive and the first car.

Almost instantly, the door behind him burst outwards.

Hans whirled and ducked around the dueling cane that whistled past his ear, ramming up against the railing on the side of the little landing. He cast an uneasy glance at the ground rushing by beneath them and then went on the offensive, throwing a quick series of punches at the man who'd stepped out onto the platform with him. It was the man from the dining car earlier; his partner was nowhere to be found.

He took Hans's punch, a blow that should have sent him sprawling, square on the chest and didn't budge. He grinned at Hans.

The trick with wizards, Hans thought to himself, is that they look just like normal people until it's too late.

The man rammed his dueling cane into Hans's gut. It lifted Hans off the ground and drove the breath from his lungs, casting him over the railing at the edge of the platform. Hans caught the ice-cold metal and flipped, landing on the other side and ducking another blow. He phased back through the railing and rammed his shoulder into the man's chest, surprising him and making him stumble backwards.

Then Hans gripped the rail and twisted, kicking his opponent underneath the jaw and making him lurch back into the opposite rail. The man brought his cane around and swept it through the air in front of himself, forcing Hans back while he stabilized himself. For a moment, they stood opposite each other, breathing heavily and sizing each other up.

I'm not going to be able to outfight this guy, Hans thought. He's stronger than me, and he's armed.

Wait a minute. I'm armed too.

Hans reached into his coat and drew his other pistol. Surprise flickered across the man's face an instant before Hans shot him in the head. He tumbled backwards into the railing and fell backwards off of the train, landing with a great plume of snow in a bank beside the track.

Hans turned and wrenched open the door to the locomotive.

Inside he saw a middle-aged man bound with rope to a chair near the wall, while the Russian woman from earlier manned the controls of the train. She whirled about as he stepped in and reached towards her waist.

"Don't go for a weapon," Hans said, aware that she understood English from her conversation with her partner earlier. "I don't want to have to kill you."

She stared at him, face unreadable. Yet her hand stayed.

"I'm stopping this train," Hans said. "And you aren't standing in my way."

It looked like the woman was going to step aside. Then her hand moved.

Hans shot her once in the chest. She looked just as surprised as her partner had as she stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground, clutching at her chest. She said something Hans didn't understand.

He ran to the engineer and tore his gag away. "Which lever is the brake?"

The engineer's eyes were wild with fear. "She sabotaged it!"

Hans glanced back to the control panel and saw that a big, red lever had been broken from its casing.

Fucking hell, he thought to himself as he drew a knife from his belt and started to saw at the engineer's bonds.

"Alright, that's fine," he shouted over the roaring train. "We'll uncouple the locomotive from the rest!"

The man shook his head. "It won't matter! The locomotive isn't even accelerating the train anymore! It hasn't gotten any fuel for the last quarter mile or so anyway, at least since you came in! It just takes a damn long time for this thing to slow down without the brake!"

Hans glanced over at the furnace, which was unattended. A great pile of coal lay near it, the shovel abandoned on the floor. He realized that he wasn't going to be able to save everyone.

"Careful!" The engineer said, frightened.

Hans glanced down, and saw that his knife had torn open the man's shirt. He readjusted his blade and gave it another, heavy tug, managing to tear through the last fraying strands and free the man.

"Alright, then, we're going to have to jump!" Hans shouted.

The man stared back, terrified. "What about the others?"

"There's nothing we can do!" Hans said, rushing back out onto the connection and seeing that the other train was now running parallel to their own. Maybe five feet apart. The collision was seconds away. "You need to jump, now!"

The engineer just stood there, paralyzed by fear. Hans wavered momentarily, then ran back and grabbed the man's arm. He dragged him out to the connection and bodily threw the man over the side, into a snowbank. Hans leapt after him, heart lurching for a moment as he fell into the open air. Then he hit the ground, hard.

Then the trains hit each other. Hans picked himself up off the ground and started to sprint, shrapnel raining around him as the air was filled with a roaring louder than anything he'd heard before. One of the trains twisted off of its track and continued to crush into the other, a million tons of steel compounding explosively. Something hit Hans in the back and he hit the ground, knocking his head and losing consciousness.