Convict Fenix

by Alan Brickett

  A Memory of Revenge…

  The shattered landscape stretch for dozens of miles in every direction from the epicenter where he now stood within one of the bowls carved into the ground by titanic forces.

  Destruction overlaid destruction in the valley between mountains which were themselves now cracked and broken off at the tips.

  Seen from above it was as if the ground had turned to gelatinous mud, and been hammered, deep depressions pushed much of the soil away in circle like shapes.

  The remaining pine trees had fallen to point outward from each such point of impact, those that were not burned husks or reduced to ashes. The clouds meandering above the broken peaks were all that remained of the lake whose feeding river now cascaded down into a rift torn into the earth.

  Every animal or creature that could escape had done so during the opening volleys, the colossal forces had later flattened them into the ground even as they ran and then buried them.

  He stood over the ashes and bone fragments that were all that remained of Her, clefts of land all around him marked the explosion of forces that Aurelian’s death had wrought.

  Her final end.

  The broken mountains he had used as anchors for his trap were less than half the height he had started with.

  Where their rock had been thrown by the explosions, he did not hazard to guess. It was unimportant anyway, the ley line conjugation he had used that lay beneath the lake was destroyed.

  This devastation around him was just a symptom of the cascade of destruction that had affected this world. Through the magical nuances and physical consequences, the continent he was on would be doomed at the very least.

  Already, the deep magma beneath the earth was rushing in to fill the gaps where energy and fire had been pulled. The tectonic plates were shifting, grinding together at their glacial pace but within a year, they would move into new seats.

  Between the coming volcanoes, the tearing of the ground by earthquakes never before seen by anything currently living on this world and the destruction of the organized flow of ethereal energies this planet was doomed to an extinction level event.

  A fitting horn call to mark the passing of Aurelian’pur’Lonuria, the end of the witch hag should not go unremarked.

  Not that it wasn’t noticed of course.

  Even now, he could sense the higher entities of the nearby cosmos bearing down on him, as he knew they would. The resounding change in the cosmic energy at Aurelian’s passing would have been felt by every great being, most notably the other witch hags although they would avoid coming.

  He was counting on the diverse populace that should arrive soon, their differing natures meant that none should destroy him out of hand; they would all be wary of each other and ready to take him for trial.

  It had cost him just over two decades to prepare, work out, and enact his plans. Even now, the armlet he had appropriated through investigation of Aurelian’s vaults was under the skin of his arm. Ready for the inevitable judgment and sentencing, his return to the place that had also taught him much about how to go about killing Her.

  The choosing of the method had taken much time and research, but with a single-minded obsession, he had persevered over many worlds.

  Then had been the choice of the place, searching for an appropriate world with the kind of energies he needed, with the configuration he required. Sheer luck or universal chance had him find this world with its relative lack of sentient life.

  He wouldn’t have cared if the planet had been populated by anything important; all that mattered was the trap.

  And trap Aurelian he had.

  With what he learned from the Prison and its nature, a fantastic idea but also the practice he had implemented. Just to set up the trap, coring the mountains and layering their insides with the spells that would join and create the bubble he needed, that had taken years.

  That the announcement of his escape did not take place allowed him to work incognito.

  Aurelian would not search for him, thinking he was still safely ensconced.

  He had lured Her here, and they had battled, no time for words, he caught her by surprise and used that to his every advantage. Burning through the planet’s magic via the ley lines, the outer cage keeping her from escaping.

  Fenix beat her down through Her magical existence into the physical form She portrayed and made it her vessel.

  Unable to escape Fenix, Her fighting had been fierce, the real power of a witch hag met his preparations and proved every bit the challenge he had expected it to be. Twenty years of his preparation for this one battle and he could barely match up to what She could bring to bear under surprise, with little time to react, with no planning and no aid.

  Aurelian was off balance, and still, She taxed every plan, every contingency.

  Just the spinoffs of their conflict had ranged over the world in storms, gigantic flashes of power had torn through the ground, spawning tornadoes and hurricanes alike. Bolts of energy cracked right through the planet, sheered through to the other side and exploded out into space.

  Fenix had tapped every resource he could get his hands on; he knew it was always going to be a close battle.

  He had found every weakness that he could to exploit, prepared every glamour, illusion, and mental spell he had to complement the physical battle.

  He employed hidden traps of conglomerate spells, tiny beings that would eat into Aurelian’s material and immaterial form to distract her. Every possible means that he could engage had been laid out over the vast surface of the battlefield he had planned.

  And for all of that it had been so close, so hard won, and ultimately in his favor.

  Fenix looked up as the first deities burst into being above him, in their elaborate chariots, on horses or winged beasts and all manner of mythical travel means. He could not describe the sheer plethora of different entities that arrived, dozens at first and then the numbers quickly climbed.

  Overlapping legends that he had no desire to catalog or name, they were here to necessarily make the arrest.

  And he was going to let them, running would serve little purpose because they would chase him, and he was exhausted. A genuine emptiness inside him from the exertion of battle with Aurelian, the consumption of so much power.

  Even if he ran, they would probably catch him very quickly, but that was all right, they should believe that after such a struggle he was unable to resist.

  Fenix needed them to accept it.

  Those who doubted would push for his termination as quickly as possible, and not his incarceration.

  All to the better that they are quick, since the less time they took to analyze his plans the less chance there was that they would behave differently. Too immediate and his careful forethought might be found out.

  He could have just gone into obscurity this time of course, instead of this elaborate plan to end up back in the Prison for this crime.

  But he had the need, the desire to kill Aurelian, he had to, it went beyond simple revenge.

  The only aspect of his existence that was the better of him, his teacher, his master. Defeating Her placed him as the pupil that could finally emerge from Her shadow. He was now and forever more the more exceptional entity and could embark on a journey of self-discovery the likes of which should shake the multiverse to its core.

  But first he needed the time to do it, and he had thought about it.

  Aurelian would never truly leave him be.

  He had to remove Her as competition before She decided to do the same to him, especially if he was out making names for himself. Aurelian would have learned of it, and Her knowledge of him was the same as his knowledge of Her.

  A vulnerability.

  He considered how well that was proven to be accurate as the Gods and Goddesses drifted down to capture him, carefully and with due diligence to his potential resistance. He had been Her greatest threat, one trained by Her and able to work with all the knowledge from within.

&nbs
p; Aurelian knew everything about him and would have been able to do the same.

  Fenix took a moment to reconsider how he thought about her even as the ground reacted to the landing of the powerful entities. Grass grew from their feet, or blackened and burned further. Their very existence impacted the physical world as a miasma that constantly surrounded them.

  Much as Her presence had always had an impact on the world before he finally ended her.

  And there it was, in his moment he came to redefine how he thought of Aurelian, how he named her within his mind and rejected her power over him.

  In her death, he was free, at last able to consider only himself with the capital letter provided by esteemed thought. Fenix did not consider her to be a power over him anymore.

  One could even consider it to have been deep brainwashing now broken, freeing him.

  As the powers surrounded and then metaphorically clapped him in irons Fenix could not help but reconsider the final words of Aurelian, right there at the end with his hand up through the soft flesh of her stomach and in under the ribcage of the physical body she wore.

  With what counted as her heart in his hand, just before he crushed it into dust she had spoken to him.

  “My greatest child, my superior being, how you make me praise you even now at the end. You surpass me, you had no idea at all, and that was the point. You had to feel the full force of a complete betrayal; it is one of the most intense emotions you must go through for yourself so you can reach your full potential, my love. I did it all for you, even this, my end, will be to your greater journey.”

  She had smiled.

  Cuts and bruises all over the beautiful pale skin of her, blood leaking from ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. But still, in that moment of complete clarity where all illusions were dispelled, and no lie could be told, Fenix had seen the truth in her eyes.

  “I am proud of you,” She had whispered with her last breath.

  Day 297…

  Sultry, delightful, promising.

  When the convicts working for the Warlock described their memory of when Quelina came to claim them and the home of their previous master, these were the words they would remember.

  She came like a queen, covered by the ever-present scarf her long legs carried her luscious body up to the gates and inside the manor without any challenge. The other female beings that followed her added to the allure she represented, all of them come to claim a room and their own place in the new kingdom.

  A place that did not rely on them spreading their legs or whatever other sexual organ they required to please the convicts who had previously been in charge.

  Female being who had survived, avoided or beaten death by using what force of protection they did have.

  Fenix could respect them for that.

  He sat on the steps leading into the main hall, an ostentatious entrance and grand open rooms for something so small. The Warlock had kept the Manor with the size intended for the three giant brothers.

  None of the servants of the Warlock had come to bother him.

  When he had exited the building alone and announced the death of their master, they had all backed off. In time when a runner would have found the enforcers and their leader or Khanton in the Warrens, an organized resistance might have started.

  Fenix had let Quelina know about his success, and she had come immediately, forestalling any other actions.

  She came over to him, stalking across the courtyard, barely returned to order from his entrance, and stopped in front of him. Behind her followed another humanoid female, albeit one with six arms and two stumps where arms would have been.

  Blue skin covered her head to foot, with blue nails and blue eyes, naked except for a long veil serving as a skirt. It looked like the lowest arm on her right-hand side had been torn off, and the uppermost arm on her left side chewed off.

  It was not up to him to wonder at the depravities of the convicts, what was evident though was that this being was dedicated to Quelina. She showed this by immediately acting when Quelina ordered her to.

  “Karli, go inside and find anyone who remains, have them agree to serve or execute them on the spot.”

  “Yes, mistress.” Came the quiet reply, with curved sabers appearing in each of her remaining hands the blue-skinned being entered the Manor.

  Fenix felt no concern for the safety of the convicts inside, if they were smart, they would give in, if not then the beautifully naked form of that exotic killing creature would be the last thing they ever saw.

  “The Vitae?” Quelina asked, locking her yellow eyes onto his own.

  Fenix smiled, he appreciated getting to the point. “I left half, as agreed.”

  Taking out a key from the pouch he kept it in he passed this over to her, instead of taking it by hand the scarf ribbon clipped it up and rolled it away behind her.

  “The chest is warded, only that key will open it, I left it on the dining room table.” He smiled at her.

  There was a definite pause as she examined his smile, again, considering him most carefully. He was ready to defend himself if he needed to, and she knew that. It was just in her nature to consider making him her servant.

  “Thank you.” The moment passed, and she smiled back, except her smile gave every man within a mile of the Manor an erection.

  At least she is pleased, but then this is a considerable change in circumstance for her.

  He mollified his own surging desire and felt his pants relax, now was not the time.

  “You resist, to do it so well and so completely…. You intend to leave already?” Quelina did appear to be genuinely disappointed.

  “We could celebrate, you and I.”

  The offer was heartfelt on her part, it would have been surprising except that being such as her, and such as he, did have feelings. Along the way, Quelina and Fenix had formed an understanding, one that could become a connection, some sort of emotion.

  Fenix had only ever felt for Aurelian, with the many other women being a part of life or a mission. Quelina was a means to an end just as Fenix was for her. He compared the idea of having some kind of connection with Quelina as he had with Aurelian and realized something.

  If he ever chose to have a connection with a woman again, it would be vastly different from what he had with Aurelian. She had dominated his relationship, while anything he had in the future would have to be a sharing and understanding that he was not inferior.

  It was not Quelina that pushed him away, it was his own newfound emotional context.

  Fenix had not processed the death of Aurelian and the full impact on his life. He had been focused on getting through the trial and into the Prison so that he could ultimately escape. There had been no time before amnesia took away all the context for him to reconcile his feelings.

  Feelings?

  Not a good thing for survival, again they roared around in his mind for a moment.

  I have no time for this.

  He echoed the thought in different words when he replied to Quelina.

  “I must go, I need to get to Page before he comes looking here. Then I will lead him away and to his end. One way or another.”

  Quelina rested a hand on his shoulder and bent down to give him a kiss on his cheek. The tingle of her touch was pleasant and sympathetic.

  “Then, go. And for what it is worth, I dearly hope you do escape this place.”

  Cocking his head to look askance at her twinkling eyes, he saw she meant it.

  “I would not wish to cage one such as you Fenix.” She said. “I pity anyone who would try to do so. That is what makes you so appealing, and why trying to own, you would be so dangerous.”

  He laughed at the honest comment, and recognized it, enjoyed the description.

  “Thank you, Quelina. Make the best of this.”

  He stood, taking the steps down to the courtyard, then turned back to her. Her ribbon blew in an unseen wind, catching on her curves and nipples, ever hinting at the sexual desire she embod
ied.

  But she was something else as well.

  “I met someone who may or may not have seen a true future, you know.”

  “Oh?” She asked, curious.

  “She told me of a place, a city and how it would exist in a time to come. And ruling over this city was a lady of great power and esteem. This entity did not have your name. However, I think that perhaps it has your true name.”

  Quelina smiled languidly, a slow spreading of her lips.

  “If the cosmos were to ever hear the title of ‘The Lady of Pain’ once more, it would only be from a position where she could not be dethroned ever again.”

  “Ah.” Fenix nodded and turned to go as he said.

  “Then, perhaps that name was the one she saw.”

  **

  As agreed, Fenix went to meet Old Man Page at the start of their planned journey to the Emerald Palace. Right on the edge of the land mass on which the Emerald Palace stood.

  Back around to the green lands then down the hairs only to move back up along the back of the creature and climb the strands to the plateau above. The central land mass on which the Warden lived and observed the rest of the Prison.

  The plateau rose up in chunks of rock seemingly carved like steps, miles on miles of the same bare ground pockmarked by the occasional gathering of mud from the latest rain. The land stepped up in mesas, each one higher than the next across the broad expanse.

  Short cliffs that rose from his height to four times his height at each new level. In the distance, at the far end, there were the outer walls of the palace.

  Green marble, colored over with gold, with some towers and spires beyond, the walls rose up some sixty feet. A stark counterpoint sitting as it did on the very edge of the plateau. Any attack on the Emerald palace would likely mean death as well, or so the Warden had arranged things.

  Aside from a perfect vantage point down from the palace across the miles of open and challenging to traverse landscape, there were the guards.

  Bronze metal armor patrolled the entire expanse between where Fenix and Page met up to the surface of the land mass and the Emerald palace itself. Empty animated suits of armor, twice his height and wielding long poles with scythes and sickles on both ends.