Rituals

by Ryan Hastings

  “There’s no need to be frightened, child,” the bellowing voice remarked. “If I wish you dead, I certainly have the power to make it so. But, for such a fragile thing, there is so much resiliency… Sssssssso much sssssstill within a sssssssssseed.”

  Even though her face was hidden, Iris’ mind still saw six reflective eyes staring at her through the dark--two slanted, vertical rows of three. Iris was a grain of salt in comparison to this monster. Its presence made it as if there was nowhere to run, as if there were walls encircling her.

  The priestess, struggling to understand where she was, remained quiet. The darkness slithered around her. “I wonder what you must be to them,” the bellowing voice echoed. “I wonder if they knew they were connecting you to me,” he added, with some amount of amusement. “They brought you closer to me.”

  When the girl eventually woke, she was breathing like she’d run a marathon, even feeling odd burning sensations throughout her body. She forced herself out of her bed but wasn’t able to immediately stand. It was confirmation that the experience was more than a simple bad dream. There wasn’t anyone around at this time. The priestess huddled into a corner. Tears accompanied her maturely calm handling of the anomaly. She began to ease her breath yet was unable to shake the terror those six eyes had shot into her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Dark Entanglement

  Western Mol’do was being consumed by the overgrowth of the underworld. Demons and men struggled to survive there all the same, though my heart for obvious reasons went out to the mortals who suffered there. Anri-Vex had no need for prisoners or survivors, and even the devil would have forgotten the power of this Celestial. Even though Dom’rel would always have damned souls and demons, Anri’s spawn often proved superior to their counterparts in many ways.

  In order to maintain what he had and could easily hold, the dark lord was spending more time in the way of leadership in order to balance the act. Some of the devil’s most wicked and powerful creatures now called this land home. Mol’do was crawling with Dom’rel’s vile hunters, mission-driven packs much like the one serving under Vil’el. Meanwhile, elements within the wretched overgrowth were becoming increasingly unstable. Acting as his own sort of territorial anchor, Anri shaped them into beasts of enormous magnitude and power.

  The populations of most western provinces were all but entirely exterminated, thus being closest to the largest breach in the very world. Stone moved away with ease wherever the nightmarish vines pierced forth. Tangled vines now replace the canopies.

  It was hard to tell exactly how much of humanity remained among those thorns and living bramble. Thirty-three thousand seemed a fair number, but that was among thousands of square miles that now offered absolutely no refuge. Some would survive; many would not.

  Living vines engulfed the major cities. Their serrated thorns were writhe with flesh and blood. Bare bones were all that would remain of the people who had fallen feed to nightmarish creatures of the underworld and pit alike. They were not of the Light; they fed on the dark. Humanity had never before seen this sort of overwhelming evil.

  The dark scar was controlled by the pit with contested territories increasing with the relative distance from the scar they became. Countless settlements throughout the remaining south- and south-central portion were riddled with madness and would eventually fall to one evil or another. Like Malene, Mol’do was wrought with strife and death. There are too many tales to tell at once.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Worms of the Earth

  Maymay was introduced to the stables and fell in love with the place. Her knowledge as a maverick served her well in caring for some of the most majestic and interesting animals she’d ever seen. This also happened to be in proximity to the large plot of space the Ser’jas spent most of their time. She grieved her father when she had the chance. There were times when she just couldn’t help it.

  Maymay heard someone coming, but she’d be a mess even if she dried her eyes. “It’s just me,” Fia remarked as she walked down the row of parade horses. When Maymay saw Fiaria’s face, she could tell something had her worried. “I was worried that I’d look bad,” Maymay remarked curiously. “Nothing else has happened, right?”

  “It’s just Sahja,” Fia replied quietly. “This thing that’s come alive in him. It’s like every time he practices with Artimus, it intensifies more than it should for him. I saw Artimus nearly die the last time they sparred. I saw his eyes in that measurement of time, but he just played it off.”

  “Have you looked into these bloodlions,” Maymay asked. “I’m sure someone here knows something--a text…, or maybe ask his wife?” Fia shrugged and then knelt to pet a large digger-hound that was lying beside Maymay. Maymay watched Fia’s eyes, knowing that something was altogether different about the situation. Fiaria sighed and changed the topic. “I heard something about people leaving anyway. I try to tell myself that I don’t have time to worry or to mourn. Everything just changes so quickly anyway, right?” she added in her usual gentle tone. “Yeah, I heard at least a hundred thousand,” Maymay exclaimed.

  “That many,” Fia responded with surprise. “Who did you hear this from?” “A lot of military-type come through here,” Maymay replied casually. “Doesn’t sound like its super-secret, but it does sound ominous.” Maymay noticed a burly terrani beastmaster bringing in a recent armored-mustang capture and flagged him down. “Max,” she hollered.

  The tower of a man waved back, motioning that he’d be over shortly. “Is he the one I saw carrying Iris,” Fia asked. Maymay nodded. “I don’t know much about their shapeshifting, but I do know that THAT is Veil’Umbra’s most powerful tiger. He actually goes into the underworld to bring in war beasts, not to mention rescue and recon,” the girl remarked, as if she were pals with a superhero.

  When the terrani came over, Fia opened with this question. “Is your name really Max?” The terrani answered with his actual name, but neither Fia nor Maymay understood much of what he said. “You both look like you’ve been crying,” Max stated plainly. “What am I walking into?” “Unrelated,” Maymay replied. “I figured you knew everything there was to know about this migration, or whatever it is.” Max nodded, as if it were an easy question. “Each Veil is sending bodies and supplies to Ephthali. The underworld is prone to less red tape than hell itself,” he chuckled.

  “They would require a 400,000-man army?” Fia asked, with a growing tone of concern. “Their forces should number over a million with this addition,” Max replied casually. “More would be preferable, but each Veil must retain its own walls and defense forces for when Anri does decide to become bold. Our people have had thousands of years to form the tunnels that we have at our disposal. In all likelihood, the trip will be less perilous than the arrival.”

  Maymay looked curiously at Fiaria, asking, “What do you think the others are planning to do?” Fia looked at Max. “Are you staying here,” she asked. Max nodded. “Then you’re staying,” Fia said to Maymay, “and so is Iris when I tell her.”

  “The priestess already knows that she is remaining, milady,” Max remarked humbly. “Your friends will have the best in protection and care, and we will pray for you and your bloodlion,” he added with a bow. Fiaria was shocked to hear that they were to leave with this group. “How did I not hear about this,” she demanded. Max shrugged.

  Fia hurried off and caught transport across the ward, passing by military convoys and departing regiments. She saw Sloth in a formation that was already moving out. “Dammit, Nigel,” she hollered, startling some of the other passengers. When she reached her stop she found herself somewhat relieved to see that Bazmari was in civilian clothes with his family.

  She found Sahja among the rest, geared-up and waiting. Sahja smiled, seeing Fia’s frantic expression. “You forgot I told you,” he remarked plainly. Fia halted. “N…No,” she replied, folding her arms. The bloodlion winked and
put his arm around her. “We have a couple hours,” he said comfortingly. “Did you know Nigel was already leaving,” she asked, misdirecting the topic.

  Baz and Sahja both laughed at the fact that Fia still used his actual name. “He figured they could always use a spare cog,” Sahja remarked. “He’s got all sorts of new components to play with, thanks to the terrani.” Bazmari scoffed and chuckled. “They asked him to help weaponize a city. How would that boy NOT say yes! Haha.”

  Fia recognized, understandably, that she was a bit undone; but she knew it needed to be remedied. Fia did her best to dismiss an unidentifiable dread at her core, knowing that strength was something she would need.

  Hescan had kept an eye on Iris and her increasing individual study of the underworld, still freely answering any questions she asked of him. She was studying the physical nature of that dark place more than its spiritual aspect and asked little about Anri-Vex’s history. Hescan recognized Iris’ spirit and was wise to the conflicts that will always arise with maturity and with growth.

  What intrigued Iris most was the duality of the underworld--its similarities to the natural world above. While it was ultimately a place of death, beauty was readily found therein. There were a number of medicines and gifts of nature that had been collected over the years from the very poisons that not even the devil could replicate. Not every creature was a crazed apex predator.

  “Anri created these?” the priestess inquired, as the skycaller observed the page she was reading. It was part of an index regarding various underworld specimen. “Corrupted, yet functioning ecosystems,” Hescan replied, “a living testament to Anri-Vex’s ingenuity. The underworld is an extension of the Celestial, as are its creatures.”

  Iris continued to read with intrigue, churning with thoughts about her experience and the oncoming future.

  Any prisoners taken by the terrani were given an option to rejoin their ranks, assuming they met certain prescreens of course. Thousands had been executed in and around Veil’Umbra alone, a popular option by scores of prideful imperials. Circumstances warrant a great deal of mercy and compassion, but a wicked soul was a wicked soul, and such prisoners were simply not needed.

  That’s not to say those who were now considered comrades were given instantaneous liberties. Sophia had become something of an exception as she was interviewed more and more because she had extensive and unfiltered knowledge of Emi-Shet’s daily life. In fact, three scribes had been assigned to her sessions.

  The fact was she was of a lowly birth mother. Generally, a Fo’hemut half-breed would be treated at the subjugate level like a stray dog. Sophia had been seen through the eyes of the highest levels of the government by who was assumed to be her father. Still, she endured utterly horrific trials and episodes along the way.

  Unfortunately, she’d been given temporary quarters with the only other prisoner (beyond the standard reasons) to be alive. He was a high-general in the imperial army and hailed from an old bloodline. Sophia sat quietly, listening to music and drinking a bottle of wine. “How long are you going to wish I was dead, girl,” Tyrasus scolded, leaning against the caged window.

  Sophia gestured with her left hand as if to say, “Fuck you.” The general scoffed. “Break that bottle and cut my throat then; I won’t stop you.” “It’s a pretty bottle,” Sophia replied in a plain and spiteful tone. “I have more appreciation for the artist than the idea of breaking it when I could just use my hands.” Tyrasus laughed. “You speak as if all the blood on your own hands is gone. Was it not your own will that drove you as far as you’ve come; that drove you to be the youngest executioner of the imperial kings guard?”

  Sophia suddenly looked like she was reconsidering killing the man where he stood. “What the hell do you think you know about me?” Again, the general scoffed arrogantly. “I directly ordered most of the hell you went through, girl. I made you their piece of ass and punching bag. I couldn’t risk some half-breed offspring of mine being unable to survive their natural position.”

  The bottle rolled out of Sophia’s hands and onto the floor as she stood slowly and deliberately. “You really don’t remember all those times I came to that house when you were young,” Tyrasus continued. “You never thought about why a drug-addicted, sex-slave was given a proper burial?” He then glanced at guards outside. “Their guards couldn’t make it in here in time to stop you from tearing out my throat with your hands, girl. You’ve at least earned that right, and I recognize you for it. We were going to overthrow that cunt, Zogette, and you were going to be one of my finest commanders. I did hold you in my arms when you were born. You felt as close to an old bloodline as any half-breed could,” he concluded casually.

  “The scar tissue quickly made any ounce of pleasure numb. We’ve done well to promote animosity amongst our people,” Sophia said with disdain and a killer’s look in her eyes. “Damn-near every bone in my body has been broken over the years. I lost a lot of myself along the way. I had to become a monster just to endure,” she uttered maliciously.

  “You became one of the finest warriors in Mol’do’s history, thanks to me,” Tyrasus remarked. “Your life will continue to be by the sword, girl. You will only continue to survive because I made you a survivor. I could tell that you were a survivor; that you had a very unique combination of strengths.” Sophia charged Tyrasus in the blink of an eye, gripping his neck and pinning him against the bars. Indeed, the high-general didn’t struggle. He smiled all the while Sophia’s fingertips slowly penetrated his flesh.

  “The true Fo’hemut strength,” Tyrasus managed to say through the chokehold. “I was right about you, daughter.” She screamed with intensity as she dug her fingers further into his throat until she could close her fist altogether. Her body shook as she stood over a gurgling and dying monster of an individual. Sophia let go of the bits of flesh in her hand, her fingers trembling from the burst of primeval energy.

  It was only after Sophia sat on the ground and put her face in her blood-stained hands that terrani officials entered into the tank. Sophia was soon surrounded and escorted away, but it was done in more of a protective manner than anything else. A handful of terrani stayed in the tank with the bloody mess, including the ghostdancer that had spoken with Sophia on several occasions.

  “Her father was right, Ezra,” commented one of the terrani. “Trying to save the Fo’hemut is one thing, but the girl has been made into a killing machine.” “I want her assigned to the priestess when she’s ready,” Ezra replied plainly. “Are you insane,” the soldier rebutted. The ghostdancer took a second to consider. “No,” he replied casually. “You think she’ll really want to take up another suit of armor,” another terrani asked doubtfully. Ezra nodded. “For the right purpose, yes.” Another terrani looked at Ezra with skepticism. “You’ve managed to get a lot of support in your plan, Ezra, including mine,” he stated. “I pray you’re correct in your determination.” “She will find the light she needs in our alliance, and our alliance will need a soldier of her capacity,” Ezra replied with humble confidence. “There is a plea for restoration in her soul, but her father was right. She will continue on the path of war.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A Pearl

  The glowing tattoos on Swae’s body were the only light that could be seen for miles as she sank farther into the abyss of the sea, about a hundred miles from Ephthali’s southern coast. The gargantuan sea monsters of Harth swam around the archangel in reverence, their songs making an eerie symphony that echoed through the dark. Eventually, sand and sediment came between Swae’s toes as she touched the sea floor.

  A shockwave of sorts was sent forth when the archangel’s toe came into contact with the seabed, providing a half-second glimpse at sunken ruins as far as the eye could see in every direction. Swae waited patiently as a massive shadow emerged in the distance. Stone and ruins fell from the ancient “being” as it stood, providing a shower of soft booms in the dista
nce. The silhouette of the “being” was like a city rising from the sediments. The archangel eventually knelt in reverence as the last heavy stone fell from the mighty “being.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Paperwork

  Ephthali was already well beyond human standards of fortification, but the project went on day and night as more people and supplies continued to arrive in various manners and magnitudes from various places and conditions.

  In case you’re wondering, Littlefeather worked tirelessly to weave his aid in this endeavor, which was something like our own interdimensional courier.

  Hundreds of miles of defenses had been drawn north of the city. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers were housed between those fortifications and the city gates, allowing for the larger civilian population to take refuge in the city limits.

  The stars reflected off the Southern Ocean; and Xavus was fighting to stay awake, when Genri presented him one of several noble ladies for possible courtship. “I’m far too tired for this, Genri,” Xavus moaned. “I can barely see what the poor girl looks like because my eyes are so tired. Is this really that important anyway?”

  U’jeo, the company Pawparosi, shrugged. “She’s my favorite so far,” Dan’el complimented. The young lady smiled and gave a gracious curtsy to the skeletal angel. Xavus seemed to have dosed off, so U’jeo poked him with increasing intensity until he came around. “If I agree to marry this girl, can I go to bed?” Xavus asked, without raising his head from the desk. Genri shrugged and looked at the girl. Actually, she seemed quite pleased with the deal.

  Xavus pulled a coat over his head and fell asleep rather quickly. The girl looked at the peculiar bunch and waved. She was a cute one indeed: orange hair, blue eyes, fair skin, 26 years old, and from the province of Y’Dsaryn to the southeast of Mera.