Dark God (28 page)

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Authors: T C Southwell

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BOOK: Dark God
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All across the Overworld, the
white fire in the chapels grew dimmer, sending alarm into the
hearts of the healers who sheltered within the Lady's power. They
knelt in fervent prayer day and night, desperate to strengthen the
Goddess with their faith, yet still the eternal flames shrank.

Ellese watched the flame in the
temple with deep concern as she knelt with her sisters in endless
prayer, their soft chanting echoing around the ravaged chapel. The
chanting was a ritual liturgy, a repetition of love and faith for
the Lady, designed to strengthen her. It ended, and the healers sat
back on their haunches for a brief rest of silence.

Ellese jumped at a gentle touch
on her arm, and turned to find Tallis beside her.

"Why do the flames shrink,
Mother?" Fear shone in her eyes. "Is the Lady dying with her
world?"

"No." Ellese patted the girl's
hand. "Never believe that. I believe that the Lady is embroiled in
a struggle of her own, and it drains her. She will not abandon
us."

"What does she struggle for?
Bane's soul?"

"No. That can only be given to
the light, not taken by it. I think it is another soul that she
fights for. A precious one." Ellese paused, blinking. "It is
Mirra's."

Tallis gasped, and her eyes
sparkled with tears. "Goddess!"

"Pray, child, as you have never
done before. Give her the strength she needs."

Tallis bowed her head, and the
chant began again.

 

Bane stood just beyond the
temple walls and gazed at the thick, swirling clouds that blocked
sun. Above them, the Lady strived to thin their impenetrable
shroud, but the Black Lord held them in place. He was winning, for
no shred of green lingered in the blackened land. The trees bore
only withered brown leaves and a blanket of ash hid the grass. The
plants' demise was not merely due to the lack of rain and sun. It
had only been just over a month since the Black Lord's ascension.
The dark power now rose from the ground in foul waves, killing all
vegetation. Around the temple, the white fire within the chapel
held it at bay, but the hallowed ground shrank with the flame.

Refugees from nearby towns
converged on the Goddess' Temple, bringing with them a few scrawny
goats and sheep, which the trolls and goblins eyed hungrily. The
glum, hollow-eyed people camped as far away from the dark army as
they could, setting up tents or sleeping under their barrows. Their
livestock consumed the yellow grass, bawling their misery as they
dug in the ash. Soldiers from the abbey wandered amongst them to
guard them from the dark army, receiving grateful smiles and an
occasional cup of mead from a farmer's cherished flagon in
payment.

Bane turned his head, scanning
the horizon, then something closer at hand caught his eye. Four
trolls crept towards the human camp, their postures furtive. No
livestock grazed in their path, but two young children played in
the ash only a few yards ahead of them, oblivious to their danger.
Bane watched them, wondering if one of the soldiers would spot the
trolls before it was too late. The dim twilight hid their hulking
forms, however, and only Bane's enhanced vision enabled him to see
them clearly.

The foolish
children's prospective demise did not bother Bane in the least,
even though the healers would not like it, or the people. He did
not care about their outrage either, even though this incident
would spark others like it as the
dark folk grew hungrier. Mirra would not like it, though.
The thought of her brought a familiar stab of pain in his chest.
Her pleading eyes haunted him, full of tenderness and pain, shared
equally between himself and his victims, which had driven him into
fits of rage because it affected him so much. She would not want
the children to die.

The trolls were less than two
yards from their intended victims when Bane Moved. He reappeared
almost on top of them, and they recoiled with grunts of terror,
falling in the ash. The children screamed and ran, retching at the
touch of the power. Their cries brought several people running from
the human camp. Bane pointed at the grovelling trolls.

"Look at me."

They twisted their necks and
blinked at him, their eyes flinching.

"You touch one human, and you
will die. Or even a goat."

"We hunger, Lord," the largest
troll whined.

"Then eat each other. I will
cook one of you now, so the others may eat. Which of you will it
be?" Bane's finger swept over them, and they whimpered.

"No, Lord! We won't touch the
humans, we swear it!"

"If you do, I will know," Bane
lied. "And I will know who it was, then he will be cooked for the
rest."

"Yes, Lord."

"Not even a goat. Now go!"

The trolls galloped away so fast
that they raised a cloud of ash in their wake, and their fellows in
the dark army muttered. Bane turned, surprised to discover that he
had a human audience as well. Six people, two of them soldiers,
stood there. A woman clutched the two children. They backed away a
few steps when he turned, all save the soldiers, who were a little
braver. One bowed awkwardly.

"Our thanks, Demon Lord," he
said. "We didn't see them."

"Obviously."

"It won't happen again."

"No, it will not."

One of the
villagers stepped forward. "I too, wish to thank you, er...
My Lord."

Bane cocked a brow. "That is not
necessary."

"Oh, but it is. These are my
sons." The man gestured at the thin boys who clutched their
mother's skirts.

Bane shrugged. "Keep them close
to you."

The man nodded and forced a
pathetic smile. Bane started to turn away, and the woman cried,
"When will you save us? When will you fight the Black Lord?"

The men gaped at her in horror,
and one leapt to clamp a hand over her mouth.

"Be silent
woman!" her husband rasped, then glanced fearfully at Bane. "I
apologise,
My
Lord."

"Let her speak," Bane
murmured.

The man
released her, but she looked too scared to speak now that Bane's
attention was focus
sed upon
her. He sighed and gazed at the landscape again, then back at the
villagers. The falling ash rimed their hair and soot smudged their
faces. Their eyes held a deep despair tinged with faint hope. The
sounds from the human camp and the dark army's muttering ceased as
all watched the confrontation. Even the beasts were quiet, and,
with the absence of birdsong or wind, the terrible hush of a dead
land enwrapped the world. Only the healers' faint chanting broke
it, rising and falling like a funeral dirge.

Bane looked down at what the
children had been playing with. A dead, desiccated white dove, its
wings spread in pathetic beauty, the falling ash already covering
it once more. Somehow, it reminded him of Mirra, so fragile and
vulnerable, killed by the touch of dark power. She was not dead
yet, but she would be soon. He raised his gaze to the woman's face
again, and glimpsed a glint of green in her eyes, sensing someone
else looking out at him through them.

"When?" she whispered into the
hush.

"Soon." Bane turned and strode
away.

 

Chapter
Eleven

 

The Final Conflict

 

The Lady sighed and leant
back against the radiant softness that supported her, closing her
eyes. Around her, the white power permeated a landscape of pearl
and white, trees of gleaming silver and pale cloud, flowers that
sparkled like stars. Stones glowed like the embers of a diamond
fire. The sky shimmered in an ever-changing medley of rainbow hues.
A fraction of this her father had set in the Overworld, to shine
briefly in the sun after rain had fallen, a hint of the glory
here.

Time was running out, just as
her power was pouring forth to keep the temples lighted beneath the
evil shroud that covered the land. She could not reach Bane in his
dreams. The evil within him blocked that route, so she had tried to
reach him through the woman. Casting even an essence of herself
into the woman had taken a great deal of power, and she did not
know if Bane had even seen it. If not, the effort had been
wasted.

Bane doubted his ability to
defeat the Black Lord after his first brash, disastrous attempt.
Now Arkonen had Mirra, and, with her, the key to Bane's defeat and
death. This too, he knew and dreaded. It was all she could do to
keep Mirra's slight hold on her faith intact, and she channelled
the healers' prayers to aid her. Healing Bane had cost her dearly,
and her realm had shrunk appreciably in the wake of the double
effort.

If he did not act soon, the
battle for the Overworld would be lost, and Arkonen would gain
entry into her realm. One Gate remained: a relic of the Overworld's
creation, accessible only from that realm. The key to that Gate was
in Arkonen's hands. Only the soul of a healer could open the great
World Gate between the Overworld and Eternity, and only one who had
fallen to the darkness. She raised a milk-pale hand and touched the
faint marks that were starting to appear on her other arm, flickers
of white power sparkling at her fingertips.

"Hurry, Bane."

 

"Tomorrow." Bane turned to face
Ellese. "Tomorrow I will defeat Arkonen, or die trying."

They stood on one of the abbey's
balconies that overlooked the ravaged land and the huddled masses
of human misery that sheltered there from the evil beyond the
hallowed ground. Although the growing sickness of the people within
the abbey was grave, it paled in comparison to the suffering of
those who remained on land now so steeped in evil that it had begun
to stink of sulphur.

"You are sure you are strong
enough?"

"It does not matter. Your Lady's
power is dwindling. If I do not face him tomorrow, it will be too
late."

Ellese nodded. "She fights for
Mirra's soul."

He swung away, gazing out across
the sombre landscape again. Ellese looked down at her clasped
hands.

"Fifteen demons were amongst the
people when they came here. They turned aside at the edge of the
hallowed ground. So many amongst so few."

"When your white fire dies, they
will rise and destroy you."

"I know. It was a good thing you
did, saving those children."

He shrugged. "It was
nothing."

"It was a great deal, to
them."

"A pity no one saved me."

"Yes. I wanted to, so much. But
I do not have the power to go below, no one does."

"Why did you watch me?"

She shook her head. "I do not
know. Concern. Pity."

"Curiosity?"

"Perhaps a little. I wanted to
know you, so I could be your friend, understand you."

"And do you?"

"A little, I think."

Bane turned to face her again,
leaning against the railing. "If I had met you when I emerged from
the Underworld, I would have killed you."

"I know. After what the Black
Lord did to you, you would have killed anyone. He made you hate us.
Do you still hate us?"

"Sometimes. Mostly I care
nothing for you."

"Well, that is an
improvement."

"But you still hate me."

"Not I, but most people, yes."
Ellese did not dare to lie to him. She feared he would sense
it.

"I could live in this world," he
said. "It becomes more like home all the time."

"No, you could not. In a year,
maybe less, there will be no life in it, save you. What will you
eat then? And when you die, you will go to the Land of the Dead,
where Arkonen will destroy you before you can gather the power to
defend yourself."

He frowned. "Food was made for
me in the Underworld."

"No, it came
from the Overworld. Beasts, thank the
Goddess, not humans, mixed with foul potions to
increase the dark power's influence on you. And the only reason the
Black Lord took beasts is because they are easier to snatch from
the Overworld."

"I see. The curse of a mortal
body, then."

"Perhaps, but without it you
would have no defence against Arkonen."

"And with it, I am vulnerable.
Already he has proven that he can defeat me."

"He is vulnerable too."

"Not as much. Our power is the
same. Defeating him will be difficult."

Ellese looked concerned. "Do you
have a plan?"

"A plan?" He chuckled. "How does
one plan the defeat of a being so powerful he could tear this world
apart?"

"You are just as powerful."

"My power cannot harm him, and
nor can his harm me."

"What can harm him?"

Bane shrugged. "Light is his
greatest weakness. His shadow form cannot withstand it, although he
can in a droge body, but that is vulnerable to the dark power. His
shadow form can be crushed or shredded, but not as easily as
mine."

"I was surprised you were so
easily injured. I had not thought you were so vulnerable to mundane
weapons."

"Only if I am not expecting
them."

"I assume that this time you
will be?"

Bane nodded. "I intend to summon
a large number of demons, some to guard my back, the rest to
distract Arkonen."

"Can they be trusted?"

"Once I have summoned them, they
have no choice but to obey me."

"What use are they against the
Dark Lord?"

He looked
impatient. "They will serve to distract him and guard me from his
demons,
which will attack me
from behind, as they did before."

"Can they not do any more than
distract him?"

"Their weapons may do some small
amount of harm if they penetrate his wards, but that is unlikely to
affect him."

"I see." She gazed out across
the gloomy land with its endlessly falling ash, her eyes filled
with sadness. "You have the power to stop this, do you not?"

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