Wraith Lord

by Phipps, C. T.

  “To be his wife?”

  “Considerably less romantic.”

  “Ah.”

  “They might have been lovers but I ended up sticking him.” I remembered the blood, the look of sickness in his eyes, and the fact that he emptied his bowels before falling over. I hadn’t intended to kill him, but I’d just been so angry and stabbing him with the pitchfork had been so easy.

  “I’m afraid I don’t see how this relates.”

  “Sometimes we think our enemies are evil when they’re really just people we hate.”

  “What about the Nine?”

  “I don’t know but either way, I’m going to kill those bastards. I’m not letting them get away.”

  Serah nodded. “That I understand.”

  I sensed Ketra’s presence behind the door, her life force both vibrant as well as troubled. I was still developing my ability to distinguish different kinds of emotions based on one’s energy but Ketra’s was similar enough to Regina that I recognized she needed to talk. “Where am I supposed to go to make our army of monsters?”

  “There’s a smuggling tunnel to the inn’s cellar here for goods forbidden to the Fir Bolg or taxed heavily. We’ve knocked out a wall to make the entrance larger in case we need to evacuate. Regina is already down there.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Serah narrowed her eyes, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. “As you wish.” Serah proceeded to the door, opened it, saw Ketra standing there about to knock, then walked past her without a word.

  Ketra as rubbing the side of her face, perhaps wondering if it was such a good thing to keep her scars. I knew that was only a symbol of her disquiet, though. The actual source was far deeper, something I couldn’t put words to because I didn’t know her. I knew her from Regina’s descriptions but there was no worse person to get an accurate description of a person from than a relative. My own interactions with her had been sporadic at best.

  Does anyone truly know anyone else or do we just deal with the masks people wear? the Trickster asked. It was a surprisingly insightful statement.

  I’m always insightful. It’s because I expect the worst from everyone.

  “Hello, Ketra. Please come in.”

  The young woman walked in and took a seat on the bed. “I was curious if I could talk to you, Your Majesty.”

  “Jacob is fine.”

  Ketra was using a term of respect to speak with me, which surprised me given how ardently anti-noble she was.

  “I wanted to get some, uh, spiritual advice.”

  “First, Ketra, you’re an atheist. Second, I’m the God of Evil. Third, I was a terrible person in life.”

  “Regina said you always tried to do the right thing in life.” Ketra, pointedly, ignored the first two points.

  “That was what made me a terrible person. If I had been a bit greedier and less determined to make the world a better place, I would have done far less damage to the world in the long run.”

  I tried not to think of the endless field of corpses that had followed the unleashing of the Killing Cloud. How the gas turned every plant it touched into a brittle white thing that crumbled at a touch.

  “You ended slavery,” Ketra said, her voice almost pleading. “Is there no point to wanting to change the world for a better?”

  “Slavery still exists.” I looked down. “But I think, yes, there is a point to wanting to change the world. However, I believe you should always be mindful of the consequences of your actions. It is easy to look to the sky and the banners of the righteous flying above to disguise the corpses at your feet. To forget those who disagree with your paradise are not evil.”

  “You are a very wise man.”

  “No, a very stupid one since I know this and am still stumbling forward to fight the Nine and their minions.” I sat down beside Ketra. “What brought about this spiritual crisis?”

  Ketra looked ill. “I saw the battle with the Ice Demon, a creature straight out of mythology battling against three heroes who banished it to protect the innocent. I listened to Regina’s words down at the inn and how they spoke to me. You really are Jacob Riverson and the King Below. I…don’t know how to deal with that.”

  “God is just a title mortals bestow upon those who are more powerful than themselves or those whom they wish to revere. We do not like to talk about it but there are many gods worshiped in other lands, places we call heathen but speak of fire gods, ocean goddesses, and beings that live in all objects. Others revere dead saints and philosophers.”

  “Are you saying you’re a god or not?”

  I looked up. “The King Below and the King Above are both men of a long-dead planet called Earth. The Trickster’s journals speak of such things in Everfrost’s libraries. The men of Earth created this world and many others to amuse themselves after they developed the power to alter reality with thought. They made heaven, hell, and many other planes. The fact that they were born of technology makes them no less gods, nor does the fact that they ruled over afterlives make them more so. In the end, the choice is yours, not mine.”

  Ketra looked at me. “I think you’re the kind of god I would worship if I did worship anything, but I’d rather everyone become a god than have one ruling over us forever.”

  “Sounds like a good faith. Better than the aforementioned stupid god out to pick a fight.”

  “They picked it first.”

  “It doesn’t matter in the long run. Still, I’m going to try to finish it.”

  “Good.” Ketra sighed. “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Was your cause so tied up in the fact the gods were false?”

  “I grew up being told the nobility ruled by divine right and that the Lawgiver wanted the world to be this way. That everything had a place and every event was part of his plan.”

  I snorted. “That part, at least, I can assure you is bullshit.”

  “Again, good.” Ketra smiled. “I can deal with the world being a terrible and awful place but I can’t deal with it all being that because the King Above said it should be.”

  “It might be true. He’s a real ass.”

  Ketra laughed, unaware I was speaking literally.

  That was when I figured out the secret of the Prophecy of the Black Sun.

  Son of a bitch! I gave Ketra a hug and a kiss then headed down to the sewers to talk with Serah.

  You should take Kana and Ketra as concubines, the Trickster said. They’ll give you strong children.

  Silence. I do not have time for your lunacy.

  There’s always time for lunacy!

  Chapter Thirty

  The smuggler’s tunnel under the inn connected with the city’s sewer system, having large eight-foot-tall tunnels that stretched under the entirety of Kerifas. They were the perfect means for invading during low tide, as it was now, but we’d managed to place our barrier spells down here as well as above.

  It was here Serah was standing. She was wearing a pair of rubber boots up to her thighs and had tied her robe around her waist with belts. She had a light cloth mask tied around her face to hold back the worst of the smell. It was a ridiculous look for an archmage but prevented her from having to endure the worst of the slime and the muck, which reached up to my ankles.

  I’d endured worse, though.

  Regina was present in the room, wearing her armor of light and unperturbed by the disgusting mire about us. There were several crates of goods the Fir Bolg had been trying to smuggle in today, but they were of little import compared to the hundreds of corpses stretched out beyond Serah and Regina. The Fir Bolg, boggans, dryads, and other residents of the Nonhuman Quarter were absent, but almost all the Burning Blade soldiers killed in the battle were present.

  Fodder for reanimation.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what the people thought of our plan or whether Serah had kept that part of the plan hidden. Necromancy was forbidden as the vilest sort of magic across the Southern Kingdoms, but still managed to find footh
olds in lands desperate to save themselves from destruction or places where the clergy was more flexible like Natariss. I, myself, hated doing it, but bringing the dead back to life as weapons was one of the singularly most effective tools I had in my arsenal. I, who believed the dead should rest in peace, was the grandmaster of creating monsters.

  But none of that was important now.

  Climbing down the ladder from the inn storeroom and jumping down into the muck, I said, “The Prophecy of the Black Sun is bullshit.”

  I had no idea why the prophecy’s truth weighed chiefly in my thoughts despite the fact we were in the middle of a siege yet weighed it did. In the back of my mind, it gnawed at my confidence and left me wondering if the war we were waging had been doomed from the start. Talking to Ketra, though, it had been like someone lighting a torch in the darkness. Everything was clear now and I felt more pissed off than anything else. I had been played like a fool and needed to share my revelation with those I cherished most.

  Not that Regina had any idea what I was talking about. “Excuse me? What prophecy?”

  Serah frowned at me. “This is hardly the time, Jacob.”

  I stood in front of them, clasping my hands together. “There is a thousand-year-old prophecy preserved by the most powerful wizards in the world—Serah is one of them—that predicts the death of the King Below and the rise of a new god who will destroy the world.”

  Regina’s eyes widened. “You…what now?”

  “Jacob,” Serah sighed, feeling her face. “What are you doing? We need you to focus on the mission.”

  “We need to focus on this. The Prophecy of the Black Sun doesn’t work like any other divination I know. All of those merely predict most likely events and possible outcomes. It’s the equivalent of staring up at the sky and saying the sun will most likely rise tomorrow. It’s a matter of probabilities and analysis rather than anything else. This prophecy doesn’t work like that, though, and seems infallible.”

  “Gods Above,” Regina said, accidentally invoking our enemy. “We’re doomed by fate?”

  “No,” I said, shaking a fist. “It is a trick.”

  Serah sighed. “We’ve considered that, Jacob, but there’s no way anyone could fake all the events the prophecy successfully predicted. It would require the King Above and the King Below to be working together.”

  “But that’s just it, they were all along.”

  Serah’s eyes widened. “By the gods, how did I not see.”

  I shook my head and continued. “The two have continually set mortals against each other. The Lawgiver and the Trickster abandoned the other gods to make this world. They murdered the Gods Between. They marshalled the Lightborn and the Shadowborn races against each other repeatedly. Why not create a prophecy that predicts the end of the world to keep the most powerful wizards and minds occupied for millennia. It’s another level of control, depending on the idea some people will question everything unless they feel like they have secret knowledge. Ethinu and the Oghma are puppets to the will of the two gods.”

  “You kept this from me?” Regina said, turning to Serah. “More secrets.”

  Serah looked down.

  “Forgive her. She has been tormented with her knowledge of this for years,” I said, defending her. “Serah came to me just yesterday in hopes of revealing the truth.”

  “You should have told me,” Regina snapped. “The Oghma’s secrets should have been revealed the first day of our marriage.”

  Serah didn’t deny it. “You’re right.”

  That left Regina deflated. Looking around, she shook her head. “This is not the time for arguments. Even if what you’re saying is true, how could you prove it?”

  “It would also require the Trickster to be complicit in his own death.”

  “I’m not sure he’s dead, to be honest.”

  That revelation went over like a hog tossed into a ballroom. Both Serah and Regina looked at me like I was mad. Of course, they had only the barest inklings the Trickster had tormented my mind with taunts, jibs, and gibes for the better part of five years. That the Trickster had been the one to release his control on my mind only near Regina was a sign I’d been his pawn all along—even my falling in love with her. The Trickster, notably, was silent during this conversation.

  Serah stared at me as if I was talking gibberish and I could understand her feelings. After all, this was a theory with no evidence. Yet, I knew the Trickster from his constant torments and taunts. I knew the Lawgiver from the way Jassamine behaved and acted. I understood these two gods, perhaps better than any mortal, and how everything fit together.

  “For the love of all things holy, why?” Serah said, finally getting to why I believed my theory to be true. “Why set up all these conflicts? Why kill the King Below to the public just to raise up another?”

  “Meaning,” I explained, “they want to give mortals’ lives meaning.”

  “Meaning,” Regina said, her voice carrying a hint she was starting to understand my point. She, as a woman who had crusaded her entire life for the righteous, would comprehend my next words better than Serah.

  Words escaped from my mouth as soon I thought them. “The original Earth that the Old Humans evolved on has been cinders for eons, its sun having long since gone through its helium flash. Humans had discovered how to turn thought into reality long before then, though. We had learned to live forever and forge our own worlds via will.”

  “Magic,” Regina said.

  “If you like. For those individuals who could satisfy every desire with a snap of their fingers, it became an eternity of boredom and listlessness. They created worlds from their imaginations to serve as reflections to ourselves, gaining joy and bitterness through our feelings.”

  “We’re fucking pets?” Regina practically choked on the last word.

  “Or game pieces or children or, simply put, subjects. Each god treats his followers differently. For me, I felt the responsibility I had to my creations was an immense one so I had to give them the greatest gift I could possibly give, which ties back to my original statement.”

  “Meaning,” Regina said. “Meaning is the gift you gave them.”

  “How do you know this?” Serah asked. “I admit, there’s a certain appeal.”

  “You haven’t had the Trickster in your head for five years.”

  You’re right, the Trickster said. Though not entirely.

  Dammit, I cursed. You are alive.

  No, the Trickster said. I am as dead as a god can be. I chose to merge with you, Jacob. My consciousness is replaced with yours, but my unconscious is still managing all the wonderful subroutines and programs that manage the World Below as well as my countless avatars. When you’re an immortal, you learn the awakened mind is really just one part of a larger identity and easily replaced. Your grandfather’s axe that has had its handle replaced and its blade is still the same axe.

  I have no idea what you’re saying.

  You will. I had a billion years to get used to being a god. You’re still new at this. To make it simple, I am you and you are me and we are altogether one.

  What is your game now? Explain. I want the truth now.

  As if my telling you now is any more likely to give you the answers you seek. Still, you have earned an explanation, even if it is not the explanation.

  Tell me.

  Every human being, or elf, or dwarf—

  I had no idea what a dwarf was. Did he mean boggans?

  —should be able to enjoy the security of being able to fight for a cause they believe in. To have the comfort of having struggled against true evil and the satisfaction of knowing you have not fallen prey to it. That is why I had my brother play the role of the King Above and made my assortment of monsters to torment his followers.

  I was sickened by these facts. And what of the Formor and others who play the role of the villain in your grand design?

  The Trickster showed no remorse. They have the satisfaction of being doomed moral victors.
They know they are persecuted, hated, and loathed for no reason other than being hideous to be behold. They suffer and draw strength from their martyrdom as well as each blow they strike at what seems to be an invincible enemy. I ruled them absolutely and gave them nothing but the satisfaction of strength in the face of adversity.

  Anger replaced my horror. How awful it must have been for you when I liberated the Shadowkind and offered them a new way.

  I could feel the Trickster smile in the back of my head. I already knew what you were going to do, Jacob. You were chosen to replace me precisely because I had grown weary of the endless struggle. It did not take a genius to figure out you would attempt to save the Shadowkind. You have a fondness for lost causes, sad and broken things. It’s why I picked you. Now my creations rally behind you and your wives.

  “Gods Above and Below,” Regina said.

  “You can hear him?” I didn’t bother to disguise my shock.

  They could always hear me, the Trickster said. Just not when I was speaking to you, or did you just assume I was only in your mind?

  I wanted to reach into my skull and rip out the cursed spirit before strangling him. We’d been played for fools this entire time and had danced to a waltz designed by our enemies step-by-step. “I do not understand why they have set us up this final battle between good and evil, but I have my suspicions. For whatever reason, they no longer desire the Shadowkind and the Lightborn to wage war. So, this will be the final struggle between them.”

  Serah’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth. “The Nine Heroes will gather together all of the nations under a single throne and make progress using tyrannical methods. We, however, will gather all their enemies together under our banner. Whoever wins the war will have completely destroyed their enemies and have total dominion over the world with no one to oppose them.”

  Close, not quite, but close, the Trickster whispered. Philosophers of Old Earth called it the Philosophical Dialectic. Two opposite and antagonistic viewpoints smash together to form something newer and stronger. The White Sun, Morwen, on one side, and the Black Sun, Regina, on the other. No matter which side prevails, there will be an idealistic warrior queen to guide the world into a new tomorrow.