CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN

by Verne, M. Scott

  Sheathing his knife, D’Molay picked up his quiver and once again took aim. Down below he saw a new group of crocodilians clambering over the pile of bodies and starting to climb up the wall. As the wail of a war horn cut through the din of battle, the enemy stopped climbing. They reversed course to return to the open battlefield. Kastor voiced the question all were asking.

  “Where are they going?”

  “Maybe they’re giving up,” Tycho said as he shot one in the back. More than one Greek silently thanked Ares for whatever had caused the creatures to retreat. Any hopes that their respite would be long were smashed when Kastor spotted the reason for it.

  “What the hell is that? The beast! It’s escaped!” Kastor cried out in surprise.

  D’Molay stood mutely next to Kastor, too stunned to say anything at the news. The beast was ruthlessly attacking the forces on the field. The beast ran towards groups of Mayans and Greeks, killing and thrashing them as it leaped forward. By the glow of the full moon, D’Molay could see the bodies of men flying in air as it attacked. It seemed to ignore the crocodilians, but they followed it en masse.

  “That explains where Set’s forces are going,” Kastor said. “They’re trying to catch the damned thing.”

  The moonlight revealed a hole that had been torn in the ground. It was about forty feet from the fortress wall. “I think I know how it got out,” D’Molay said.

  Tycho passed a vessel of water to D’Molay and he drank deeply. As it was passed back, Tycho gave him a mildly annoyed look. “You bled all over it, Tracker. Go bind up your hand.”

  D’Molay held up his hand and saw that it had indeed been slashed. Cursing mildly, he went to a chest of supplies and began to wrap his wound with the bandages stored there. Several other men did the same, dividing the store of medicines between them. In the precious moments of calm, they began to share stories of their personal combats. D’Molay listened in silence, too worried about the escape of the beast to join the conversation.

  “Ares called up forces I haven’t seen since Troy,” one archer said. “Did you see the berserkers from Tartarus? And those giants! I swear one almost stepped on the Spartans.”

  Tycho turned from the ramparts to comment. “I wouldn’t be surprised at any sight today. There’s a woman chasing the beast right now.”

  D’Molay put a roll of bandages back in the chest, spurred by Tycho’s observation to comment. “I saw plenty of women out there. Amazons, Mayan warrior-queens, maybe even a goddess or two.”

  “I hope that’s what this one is, for her sake. She doesn’t look very special to me.”

  D’Molay rejoined Tycho who pointed out the woman he was watching. Near the hole, D’Molay saw the figure in a dress running across in the same direction as the beast. A heavy feeling of dread gripped his entire body as he realized who it was “My god - that’s Aavi!”

  “Who?” Tycho asked.

  “That’s Aavi, the girl Set is after! I have to get down to her! We have to get her out of there!”

  “That’s Aavi?” Tycho repeated loudly, causing the rest of the men to rush to the edge of the wall for a look.

  “Yes! Get me a rope!” While the others continued to gawk, D’Molay spotted a coil by the chest and grabbed it. He fervently started to wrap it around his waist. “Someone take this end, and tie it off!”

  “What are you doing?” Kastor tentatively took up the free end of the rope.

  “I’m going down the wall. If she stays out there, either Set will get her or she’ll be killed,” D’Molay said as he finished securing the rope to his body.

  “You’re crazy, but we’ll try to cover you from up here.” Kastor said as secured the rope to the ramparts and handed D’Molay the slack. D’Molay jumped on the top of the wall and positioned himself to go down. “May the blessings of Zeus be with you, my friend!” Kastor called as D’Molay disappeared over the edge. “Men, over here. Bring your bows!”

  D’Molay rappelled down the wall. Arrows whizzed over his head as Kastor’s men cleared the way for him. Driven by the need to save Aavi, he dropped down the wall much faster than was prudent. His feet slipped more than once, but he managed to keep his balance and came to rest atop the bodies of several dead crocodilians. As he began to untether himself, one of the bodies in the pile suddenly lurched to life, snapping at him with its sharp-toothed jaw and seizing his left leg. D’Molay felt tremendous pain as teeth dug into him. He screamed and fumbled for his knife. His guardians on the ramparts came quickly to his aid. Several arrows pierced the creature’s back and it fell into the pile of bodies, dragging D’Molay with it. He floundered among the crocodilian dead until he managed to get hold of his knife to pry open the jaw that imprisoned his leg. He shoved the dead creature away hatefully. It rolled onto its back, its strange dead eyes staring up at the moon.

  D’Molay dragged himself away from the pile. His leg was covered in blood flowing from multiple puncture wounds. Skin hung loose in shredded strips from several places. Despite this, he struggled to his feet, searching for Aavi. He spotted the flip of her hair in the moonlight as she ran towards the beast in the distance. He also saw several crocodilians in pursuit of her. He tried to take off at a run, but the best he could manage was a half-limp, half jog forward. Within a few seconds he saw one of the crocodilians pursuing Aavi drop to the ground with an arrow in its back. His friends on the ramparts were still with him. Kastor’s men reduced the number in pursuit of Aavi to but two. Yet as Aavi, the crocodilians and D’Molay moved further ahead, their arrows began to fall short of their intended targets. They were getting out of range. D’Molay knew the rest was up to him.

  Taking his bow off his back, he notched an arrow and took aim. His injured leg was shaking and he noticed that his aim was wavering a little. Remembering some of the tips Sophia had given him, he took in a deep breath, focused and let loose. The arrow flew through the air and missed his target, flying past the last two crocodilians and hitting the ground not far from Aavi, who continued running towards the beast, oblivious to D’Molay’s presence. D’Molay notched another arrow and fired again. This time the arrow hit the crocodilian nearest Aavi in the leg and it fell on its knees. As it started to get up again, D’Molay followed with another arrow, hitting it square in the back. As it fell to the ground, D’Molay rejoiced as his next arrow struck true in the back of the remaining crocodilian’s head.

  Slinging his quiver over his shoulder and carrying his bow in one hand and his knife in the other, D’Molay limped as quickly as he could towards Aavi, who was getting further away by the second. On the way, he slew a stray Mayan warrior with a quick slash with his knife, surprising the man as he dared to look in Aavi’s direction. Then his worst fears were realized as he saw Aavi fall to the ground.

  Despite the pain, he managed to jog forward faster, praying that she was still alive. He fixed his eyes on her, trying to determine how badly she had been hurt. Relief washed over him as she got up. Apparently she had merely tripped. Undeterred by the tumble, she began to make her way forward again.

  “Aavi! Aavi! Stop!” he yelled as loud as he could, but the noise of the battle seemed to swallow his voice. He forced himself to keep moving. His vision started to tunnel from the pain, but he was closing in on her. When he was less than fifty feet away, she fell again, this time from the impact of an arrow in her thigh. D’Molay rushed forward, dropping to a crawl to close the last of the distance as two more arrows struck the ground between them. Another arrow hit him in calf, but he ignored it and kept moving towards her.

  “Aavi, stay down, don’t move!” he insisted, hoping to prevent her from being targeted again. It was of no use. More arrows came, two of them finding her. When D’Molay reached her, her she lay on her back with new arrows in her side and torso.

  She turned her head and looked at him, “D’Molay? I-it’s you.” Despite her obvious pain, she managed a smile upon recognizing him.

  He scrambled to her side and embraced her, “Oh Aavi! Why did you come up he
re?” Why?” Tears started to fall from his eyes.

  “The beast . . . I had to go to stop . . . all the fighting . . .” she said, looking up at him with a confused, pained look on her face.

  “Oh, Aavi.” He reached out and brushed the hair out of her face.

  “I . . . I can’t move anymore.”

  “Shhhh, I know. I know. I’m here with you, we’re together now.” D’Molay hated how meaningless his words were. Even in the dark he could see that her wounds were fatal unless he could get here to a healer immediately. He knew that he too would be dead soon as well. If he didn’t bleed to death, the enemy troops nearby could kill him quite easily at this point. He was in no condition to fight back now.

  “I think . . . I think this must be what dying is like.”

  “Don’t say that, Aavi. You helped me live, and I’ll help you, I promise.”

  D’Molay tried to scoop her up in his arms. If he could get her to the healers perhaps there would be hope. In vain he struggled to lift her, but he found he could no longer stand. His leg would no longer support any weight. Aavi felt limp in his arms, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Help us! Help!” D’Molay cried out forcefully to anyone who might hear.

  A muted light broke the darkness. It came slowly toward them, from the direction the beast had gone. “I . . . feel so . . . cold. It’s almost here, hurry,” Aavi whispered. D’Molay squinted toward the light. His vision was so blurred from exhaustion and pain he could hardly be sure of what he saw. It seemed to be the beast, but it now had a golden aura around it. D’Molay blinked as he caught a fleeting glimpse of noble wings on its back and a flaming mane around its neck. For a few seconds he was seeing what Aavi was seeing - the aura of the creature. The vision was gone after he rubbed his eyes, but Aavi’s words confirmed what he had seen. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It can’t have you,” D’Molay muttered jealously. Aavi seemed to rally in his arms.

  “D-don’t you see? It had to end like this. I was never meant to stay here. I-it is my companion. You were right.” She managed to smile at him. “And now . . . I - I know what I am, and why we met.” She closed her eyes and struggled to take in another breath.

  “Then tell me,” D’Molay pleaded, his voice cracking. “Please, Aavi.”

  “It’s about to h-happen. Hold me close. You’ll be . . . safe.” She closed her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her.

  “What’s going to happen? What, Aavi? Aavi!” D’Molay shook her gently. He felt her try to embrace him, but she could not, for the strength in her arms was gone. She was slipping away. He could see Mayans with drawn weapons approaching as well. He knew that this was the end for both of them.

  D’Molay fell into desperate grief, hugging her to him and sobbing uncontrollably. He didn’t care if he lived or died; his only thoughts were of Aavi. Her eyes opened one last time and she stared up at the sky, seeing something far away. Then her body suddenly fell into spasms and a bright yellow glow emanated from her very being. The golden light engulfed her and D’Molay.

  He clung to her, squinting into the brightness. “No! I won’t let you go!” he cried out.

  It was as if they were inside a swirling sphere of energy. He could see nothing but the glow as it grew in size and brightness. When it turned from gold to almost white, he had to shut his eyes as it was too bright to behold, but still he held Aavi in his arms refusing to let go of her.

  On the battlefield, the troops nearby saw the round yellow glow appear. Those closest began to back off, fearing it was some enemy spell or trick. Further back, some warriors stopped to see what it was, but most continued to fight. They had their orders and no glow would stop them from serving their gods’ command to kill their enemies. As the ball of light turned white, it retreated into itself, compacting into a brighter orb. For a second, all the sounds of weapons and armor clanging against each other stopped. The cries of battle went mute. There was no sound at all. Then the bright white glow exploded forth, traveling in a wave across the entire field and engulfing everything in its path. Even the warriors of the air were not spared as the white glowing bubble expanded high in the sky. Mayan air rafts, strange flying squids and Greek heroes on flying horses were lost in the whiteness along with the forces on the ground.

  The energy washed over a large circular area outside the fortress engulfing trees, tents, warriors and then rushed toward the beast itself. The six-legged creature was killing the Mayans and Greeks indiscriminately as it ran wild through their ranks. When the beast saw the energy ball, it stopped rampaging, seeming to recognize the glow. It rushed forward and plunged into the swirling energy, disappearing completely. The white bubble gave one last great burst of energy and expanded a bit more. Then, like the remaining sparkle of a firework in the sky, the globe fizzled away, leaving the battlefield burned and destroyed. Every single living thing within the bubble had been turned to white sandy statues, save one.

  D’Molay slowly raised his head and looked at the devastation surrounding him. The battlefield was blackened, smoking as far as he could see almost all the way to the fort itself. The scorched land was dotted with transfigured warriors and creatures. The strange unworldly mix of black earth and white statues was surreal, even in the realm of the gods. He recoiled in shock as several statues fell out of the sky and smashed to the black earth, shattering into scattered piles of white crystals. He huddled, stunned by all the destruction and death around him.

  Then he realized he was still clinging to Aavi, but she too was lifeless, her perfect face now cast in white sand.

  Bits of the sand had dusted his face and clothing. As the grains mixed with his tears, and the tears passed his lips, he realized what the sand truly was -salt. Its taste stung bitterly in his mouth. All of the soldiers, the creatures, and Aavi had been turned to salt. As he let go of Aavi’s transformed hand, his tight grip left a depression. She and all the other figures were brittle, easily broken. A heavy rain would wash them all away. He realized they couldn’t even be moved without crumbling into unrecognizable chunks.

  “No . . . No!” D’Molay started sobbing uncontrollably.

  Time had no meaning as he lay on the field of battle beside Aavi’s figure. He had failed to protect her. He would never again see the joy on her face as she experienced the wonder of new things. She had been with him for such a short time, yet had become the most important thing in his life. In the end, it seemed she had gained some peace and understanding. There was no way for D’Molay to be sure, but he hoped that was the case. Still, he found it impossible to move beyond the overwhelming weight of his failure. When the sun rose and shed even more light on the aftermath of the war, he became even more depressed at the vast, meaningless destruction. There seemed no point to even getting up, so D’Molay just lay there and cried, praying that Aavi would somehow recover.

  “Aavi, please . . . come back . . . Aavi.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, D’Molay thought he saw one of the statues move. Mustering the initiative to look, he saw a lone figure walking amid the devastation. The figure was in silhouette, but he knew at once it was Mazu. Her staff and Chinese peasant’s hat gave her away. She was investigating many of the statues, gently touching them with her hand as if checking to see if someone was still inside.

  “Mazu!” he managed to choke out. She turned and headed in his direction.

  She drew close, a look of sorrow etched upon her motherly face.

  “So much destruction. I am pleased to see you survived, though I am at a loss to explain it.” D’Molay turned away from her, drawing her gaze to the salt statue lying at his side. “Oh no, Aavi! Then she, too, fell victim to the beast’s power?”

  D’Molay could not bear to look at Mazu as he replied. “No, none of this was the beast’s doing. Aavi did this, and Aavi saved me.” Tears were streaming down his face. He was filled with sadness, guilt and a sense of complete failure.

  Bending to one knee and steadying herself with the staff, Mazu placed her hand o
n Aavi’s chest. She turned to D’Molay, a deeply pained look upon her visage. “She’s gone. There is nothing that can be done.”

  “I know that,” D’Molay snapped back angrily. He could not take his gaze away from Aavi’s lifeless form. “I know,” he added more gently as tears flooded his eyes. They fell upon her, leaving matching trails in the salt.

  There would be many questions and speculations yet to come, but for now, they were both beyond words, beyond thought. D’Molay tried to force himself not to scream and cry and lash out. His face was that of a man who had lost everything he held dear. Mazu stood beside him in silence. They seemed out of place among the hundreds of statues, like ghosts moving unnoticed among the living.

  Chapter 45 - Aftermath

  Despite the huge explosion, there were still many troops left alive. The fort had been spared by the blast. Most of the blast’s victims had been from the opposing forces, although many Greeks had been killed as well. Ares and his loyal followers counted it a glorious victory, but for D’Molay, none of that mattered. He had withdrawn from the world, lost in a sea of grief and self-recrimination. Mazu managed to have him carried back to healers in the fortress, then to the room that he and Aavi had shared. After three days, he was still unresponsive, refusing to open his locked door for anyone. Outside in the hallway, Mazu could sense his mind was intact, but his heart was broken. On that third day, Mazu finally felt it was time to intervene as she once again came to the closed door for a visit.

  “D’Molay, it’s me. Let me in.” As usual there was no answer. “Then you give me no choice.” So saying, Mazu turned into water and simply flowed under the door, reforming herself on the other side.