Mortal gods, p.72
Mortal Gods, page 72
There was something cold, calm and calculated about the God before him. Horatio stalked around the Eye, strolling as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Following the defeat of Gauis’ rebellion, the High Heavens had simply had enough of the failed experiment that was is your realm. But before plans could be formulated to address that problem, Gauis conquered the Void and Tristan pleaded for a chance. He concocted a foolhardy plan to once and for all, prove your worth to the High Heavens and the Assembly of Angels agreed. The boy always did have a way with the Angels.” Horatio mused.
“The Heirs…” Adrian asserted.
“The Heirs.” Horatio said, “The intentions were to have the Heir eradicate the threat of the Black King without the need for further loss of divine life. Thus proving that your realm was worthy of its existence.
“So you can play at being The Father!” Adrian snapped.
“The Father has lost his way. To kill him would be heresy befitting of your realm, but not this. The eradication of the mortal realm renders Gauis unable to seek his vengeance against the High Heavens. Thus this foolish Cycle of the Heir will die and the Black King will rot in a baron realm.”
“If I slay Gaius, if any Heir had slain Gaius, you lose the High Heavens. Say anything else you want, but that’s what it boils down to. The corruption of men by power. You’re no better than Gaius, you’re just smarter.”
Horatio laughed gently and clasped his hands behind his back.
“What the Council and I done, was in the best interests of the Heavens, I do not expect a mortal to understand. Now,” Horatio said ominously, “Your protectors have fallen.” He said gesturing above to the quite sky.
Outside the broke dome, the sky was quiet, lik a quiet morning waking from its slumber. Horatio stepped forward with a mean glint in his eye. Adrian felt a sudden dread, like he had just realised his own folly. Adrian recalled a story of a drunken fisherman back in Redbridge, where he had rattled on about a grand plan, purely to stall for time. Horatio had just done that to him. He had kept him from the Eye until Tristan and Balor had been dealt with.
“You don’t have to –” Adrian could scarcely finish his sentence before Horatio revealed a short hilt just like Tristan’s.
The blade crawled from its metal prison with a rasping scratch and screamed across the air at his throat. Adrian was unarmed and most likely outmatched, but there was a quiet moment, as the blade cut through the air, that he considered just how many times he had consigned himself to death before he had ever tried. Despite all the peril he had faced, all the horror that had attempted to see him dead, he was still alive. Adrian felt something stir inside. He didn’t know what it was, maybe it was Tristan once more, but then again, maybe it was himself. If nothing else, it was, at the very least, stubborn defiance. Adrian readied himself against the blow. His bare torso would have been cleanly sliced open by the deftly crafted blade, but he kept light on his feet, and out manoeuvred the cleaving strikes of the God. Horatio was fast, but by comparison, Tristan was much faster. Adrian ducked clean under another slash and landed a forceful jab on Horatio’s cheek. The God faltered, but then a small grin invaded his face.
“It is clear to see I am no swordsmen.” Horatio said and let the blade slide back into the hilt. He hooked it to his belt and rallied on Adrian. “But I am one with the elements.” He said coldly.
Horatio fired a vicious bolt of electrical energy that crashed against Adrian’s chest, flipping him backwards to the brink of the stairs. His chest burned with the heat of a thousand furnaces and his heart felt like it had been expelled from his rib cage. Horatio lifted a threatening hand once more and shocked the young boy, sending him hurtling across the clearing of the towers staircase and crashing into the wall. Adrian hadn’t even considered electricity as an element.
“So disappointing!” Horatio called, “I expected more from the Heir.”
His confidence in mocking Adrian was nagging in the young boy’s frazzled mind. It was his cold words that spurred him to remain even more resolute in keeping himself from dying. Adrian sunk below the eye line of the rails which framed the stair case, and pushed everything out of his mind. He had never concentrated so hard to conjure, but here his powers seem muted. In his frustration, he punched to stone steps. He tried for a few more moments, but when he felt Horatio’s hand clasp around the back of his, Adrian fumbled to grab him. He prevented the Gods will for a short time, but when he found what he was looking for, Adrian submitted. The young boy was hurtling back towards the Eye in a blinding, tumbling speed.
Horatio bound up the steps to come level with Adrian and the young boy dragged himself to his feet, meeting the grin of the God head on. The sparks flew again, but this time Adrian flung himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the energy sapping bolts. The sizzle was audible as it cut the air between them and the vicious black char left upon the marble was yet another warning of his power. Adrian dodged under the next bolt and tried to get closer to his attacker. All he need was a few more feet. Horatio grew more volatile the longer Adrian evaded him, and when the young boy managed to stand just a few feet from him, his resolve seemed shaken. Adrian produced the Horatio’s hilt from his waistband britches and lunged at the God. The blade screamed out in the same vengeful howl, but was blocked by a stone fist.
Adrian cut wildly and deeply, high and low, just looking for that opening. But the God was quick, very quick. No matter where Adrian aimed it seemed that the solid rock formation, which had replaced the buzzing electrical energy, parried everything. Adrian tried to remember what he had been taught by Pauper, but in that moment, it was so difficult. Where one false step meant death, Adrian kept swinging just to keep the God occupied. But he was the one growing tired. Each strike was a little less potent and a little less effective. He stepped right where Horatio stepped left and was exposed. The Archangel exploited the gap and struck Adrian square in the chest with a shattering fist, sending him sprawling backwards. The sword retreated back into its hilt, but as it came to a halt just a few feet from the Eye, Adrian’s landed on it.
“Angel’s breeding with mortals make for sloppy warriors.” Horatio gloated as he slowly stalked over Adrian. The shattered glass dome above was covered by the crouching frame of Horatio who leaned in closer.
“Man’s fragility is your undoing.” He said, but as he moved, a black blur of something could be seen over his shoulder through the dome. Adrian whispered something barely audible. Horatio leaned closer. “What?” He said sternly, grabbing Adrian roughly.
Adrian whispered again, and again Horatio leaned closer still till he was just a few feet from him.
“Speak if you mean to be heard!” Horatio shouted and slapped Adrian across the face.
“You’re arrogance is yours!” Adrian spat venomously. The blade grew from the hilt and Adrian thrust the metal point through the gut of Horatio. With all the will he could find, Adrian hauled his battered body up and staggered towards the Eye. He turned his gaze above just in time to see Balor crash through what left of the windows frame, clearly badly hurt. His wing was damaged and the head that Adrian had injured on Prominence was limp once more.
Adrian staggered through the Arc and onto the platform. Immediately, Arianna flooded into his mind. The water attempted to speed up the walls but there was no time. Adrian leapt from the platform, and collided with Balor, just barely able to hold onto his metal scales. It was as though he was with Arianna, the way her face roamed from all corners, passing through his body. She was still upon her horse, but where, Adrian couldn’t say. Soon her green eyes died away against the bright shine that Adrian had come to know all too well. He was relived to meet the embrace of that white veil this time. It was a moment to let go of the pain and stress and just see what the God had to offer him.
He was swallowed by a frozen embrace and a howling wind that ripped his grip from Balor’s scales. It took a moment to register, but Adrian knew this was no white dream.
Chapter 35
The Last Great Hope
Adrian
“What in the hell!! Get ma’ crossbow!” A man’s voice rung out.
There seemed to be a temporary mute in the world, but it danced and flipped Adrian’s eyes. He the fuzziness from his head and pressed himself to his feet, slowing every few inches to steady his wobbly mind. In front of him was a man wielding a crossbow, loaded and pointed directly at him. He was smaller than Adrian, with a scruff of greying hair around the back and sides of his head and beady green eyes that shifted nervously.
Adrian looked around, searching for answers, and they weren’t slow in coming. He stood in the middle of a field, with a small farm house and an obliterated barn.
Did I land…?
The man had ran from the farm house in his small clothes and a coat that barely covered his modesty and fat gut. Adrian ignored the crossbow for now, feeling he was not quite ready to treat with the irate farmer. He turned away from him to see the entrance to the farmer’s barn had been completely destroyed, the soil viciously tore up from where Adrian stood.
Balor! Adrian moved, seeing the black smog slowly retreat inside the barn. “Balor!” He shouted.
“Hoi!” The farmer yelled after him but Adrian ignored it.
“Balor!” Adrian yelled as he crossed through the threshold of the darkened barn.
There was no reply, only a weak hand gesture from behind the bales of hay that were stacked tall. On the opposite side, the farmer’s horses snorted and kicked uneasily at the scent of blood in the air. Balor was bleeding badly from the wound on his neck, his breath short and shallow.
“Are you okay?” Adrian asked
“Yes.” Balor said quietly.
“What happened to Tristan?” Adrian asked eagerly.
“I don’t know.” Balor replied.
“Oh my…” A female voice from the doorway gasped. Adrian backed away from Balor and found an older, flame haired woman gawking on at the damage and the black blood that was splashed around. “What happened?”
Adrian considered the truth for a moment and laughed gently.
“A riding accident.” Adrian replied eventually, “We’re just leaving.” But as he said it, he caught the eye of Balor and all together knew he wouldn’t be able to move for a while yet.
“Horses don’t fly…” She replied cautiously.
“Never said I was riding a horse.” Adrian muttered to himself.
“I saw somethin’ that doesn’t exist. Tell me it’s true!” She said almost bursting with excitement.
From behind the red headed woman, the irate farmer entered the barn and inspected the crumbling foundations He moved across to the horses which shuffled and snorted their uneasiness, and wooed them into a gentle silence.
“Gonna have to move these!” The man said, looking around. In a flash, he drew the crossbow again and pointed it at Adrian, who sighed.
“Did I see a…”The woman paused and giggled like a little girl. “A dragon?!”
Adrian caught a flash of the severe look on Balor’s face. “No.”
“Are you sure?” The woman laughed.
A dragon falling from a break in the sky, in broad daylight is not something that is easily denied. Adrian said nothing, instead glaring on with an unfriendly eye.
“Eldith, back away from the lad.” The man said calmly. “Names’ Fredrick, this here is my wife Eldith and this is our barn house you seem to have demolished.” He said turning his eye back to the front door. Adrian paused for a second, then looked towards Balor for guidance but he had passed out, breathing very shallowly.
“My names Adrian… I need your help.”
Balor almost lifted the roof off the farm house. The place reminded Adrian a lot of home, minus the dregs of Khamari fur that were dotted around his actual home. The stained and discoloured walls spoke of their age and the scuffed up floor boards were saturated with dirt trudged in from the fields outside. It had two levels connected by a creaky old staircase that sat quietly in the corner by the front door. The bottom floor was open plan, like Adrian’s home in Oraan. On the second floor, there bedrooms but Fredrick had made sure not to let Adrian wander up there.
Eldith had cleaned out the wound on Balor’s dark skin using some sort of home brewed alcohol that the dragon had no qualms about swigging down between swabs. She worked on stitching the gash while Fredrick stood close behind, his crossbow gripped tightly and readied to defend. The old farmer was cautious, but most of all, he was afraid. Adrian couldn’t blame him. The old man had to contend with a wounded dragon on his kitchen table, and a young boy whose shattered arm was infested with orb fragments. And to top it off, Balor’s inhumane howls and thick black blood were not so run of the mill for a simple farmer.
“He has to be quiet!” Fredrick snapped, poorly disguising the wobble in his voice.
His words drew a growl of discontent from Balor, but the dragon of couldn’t speak through the pain just yet.
“Sweetie, I have an eight inch needle piercing through his neck, and he’s drinking that god awful liquor! He can make as much noise as he likes!” Eldith said calmly, but with a force that suggested more power that at first glance.
Adrian stood at the head of the table in the kitchen and held Balor still. In truth, it was more a comfort for the flame haired woman. If he really wanted to, Balor could over power him in an instant.
“Almost…” Eldith twiddled thread in her fingers, “Ok done.”
The wound was completely sewn shut, and the black tar had relented in its rush to escape.
“How’d you feel?” Adrian said, eyeing the wound.
“Like I was stabbed in the throat.” Balor said in all seriousness.
“Very literal.” Eldith said laughing. “A few days and you should be fine.”
“We do not have a few days.” Balor said trying to sit up from the table, but faltering half way.
Adrian pushed him back down with a struggle. “No, Balor stop!”
“Don’t go burstin’ those stitches!” Eldith said, helping Adrian push the big man back down on the table.
“You aren’t seriously suggesting they stay here!” Fredrick said in a panic. He nervously gripped the crossbow as though he wanted to aim it at the pair again.
“We only need a day. Just until Balor can travel.” Adrian said as neutrally as he could, but he could feel an irk gathering under the hand me down shirt he wore.
Fredrick looked to his wife, but she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. He stormed from the farm and slammed the door behind him.
“Forgive that moody auld trout.” Eldith said waving her hand at the door. “Now, some tea?”
Adrian couldn’t remember the last time he ate, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was hungry. Eldith rattled around with her back to the pair, placing a pot upon a burner. It wasn’t until she opened the small cabinet below the counter top that the fresh smell of cheese and bread rushed up the young boys nostrils. Now he knew he was hungry. When it was placed down to Balor, he sniffed at it and turned his head away but Adrian had no such qualms. He tucked into the bread almost right away, tearing a chunk from the loaf and shoving it down his throat, barely stopping to chew.
“I'm sorry, haven’t been up to the city in days, this is all we have.” Eldith said in apology.
“This is great!” Adrian said, but his words were mumbled by the amount of bread that stuck in his mouth. The tea was warm to the touch, with a hint of mint. Adrian wasn’t all that fond of mint, but the warmth was his new best friend.
“So, who are you really?” Eldith asked.
Adrian looked to his companion for help but Balor had all but drifted off to a dream, warding off his thickening pain.
“Not Hyulian, that much I can tell from your accent.” Eldith said.
“What else can you tell?” Adrian replied, eating a small piece of the cheese.
“Let’s see…” She began slowly, taking a seat in front of Adrian. “You’re accent isn’t from these parts, but it’s not southern either, I’ve heard plenty of those bastards speak to know that much. Maybe further north, by the Steel Mountain?” She mused to herself, “No, no that’s not it, Dwarves hate our kind. The Isle of the Beast seems more likely. Oraan?”
“Maybe.” Adrian smiled, sipping the tea. “Anything else?”
“Well I’m not gonna even guess what the hell that is on your arm, but something tells me that’s a story I don’t really wanna’ know.” She said playfully.
“Hunting accident.” Adrian said shortly.
“I don’t expect you to tell me your secrets, although if you wish to remain incognito for much longer, you should replace this ones armour.” She said with a sceptical eye, looking at Balor.
The dragons armour stuck out like a sore thumb. Its craft was unlike any work a mortal forge could produce.
“Who says we need to remain hidden?” Adrian said.
“People who fall out of the sky riding a dragon don’t usually knock on doors and announce themselves.” Eldith stood from the table, taking the blooded bandages and needle across the kitchen.
“If she touches my armour I will cut off her hands!” Balor whispered harshly, with a single finger pointing upwards.
“What city is nearby, Eldith?” Adrian asked.
“Kalusca, through the forest trail and some thirty minutes further.” She replied.
“Arianna must be there.” Adrian said, remembering the splash of incoherent visions that rippled across the Eye. He felt guilty he hadn’t thought of Avari when he jumped onto Balor, but that’s where he was.
“Arianna?” Eldith asked.
“My friend, we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” Adrian said. Eldith nodded gently, showing the hints of an amused smile.
