The Undying God

by Nathan Wilson

  “There is a woman in dire need of aid. She has been injured by igliuhs. She requires aid immediately.”

  Hrioshango’s eyes roamed deviously across Arxu’s clothes and the precious stone hanging around his neck. Most of all, he looked intrigued by the staff in hsi possession.

  “This way!” Arxu said, darting off in the direction of Nishka. To his surprise, the darkling followed. It seemed to glide down the dirt road, its legs and feet concealed beneath its cloaks. It looked like nothing more than a sea of brown robes stalking the Nightwalker. Yet, its piercing eyes were visible in the dark.

  “Can you heal wounds?” Arxu asked. The darkling tugged on the collar of its cloak to reveal its face again.

  “Yes, Hrioshango can.”

  “Who is Hrioshango?”

  “Hrioshango!” the darkling gestured wildly, waving his arms as if he encompassed amazing power.

  Arxu wondered if he was making the right decision. Nonetheless, he led Hrioshango to the forest grove. The darkling looked fascinated by the sight of Nishka. He timidly approached as though she might spring to life and attack him. Hrioshango scanned the unconscious woman, inspecting the damage.

  “She will live,” the darkling said. He regarded the Nightwalker with its customary expression of intrigue or amusement. “I cannot perform the healing without the necessary components. I require belladonna and black hellebore or she will die.”

  “Where can I find them?”

  “Hrioshango has not traveled through this forest before. I can only tell you where you might find them. Belladonna grows in the shade of trees. Black hellebore grows in the woodlands.” Arxu hesitated to leave Nishka by herself, but he faced no other choice. She was dying and she would soon be beyond help if he didn’t do as the darkling bid.

  “Do not let the roots of black hellebore touch your skin,” Hrioshango whispered.

  “I shall retrieve them.”

  The darkling looked pleased at this, and he rested on the forest floor. Nishka remained still on the grass, her head elevated on a rock. Her pink lips contrasted starkly with skin slowly becoming pale.

  Hrioshango glanced at the human woman and said, “You should find the herbs before nightfall.”

  The Nightwalker left the glen without the faintest idea where to begin his search. He hoped he had not erred in seeking out the darkling’s aid.

  If Arxu could process emotion, he may have experienced several misgivings as he left Nishka in the care of the darkling, but he didn’t think the creature was threatening. Hrioshango was bizarre and confused, if anything at all.

  Arxu returned to the grove an hour later and saw Hrioshango wandering restlessly. The darkling immediately perked up when he saw the Nightwalker.

  “Here are the herbs,” Arxu said. Hrioshango greedily took the belladonna and black hellebore. Arxu noted that the darkling didn’t bother to avoid skin contact with the herbs. Perhaps Hrioshango was immune to the hazards of black hellebore. Without a word, he extracted a wooden mortar and pestle.

  The darkling crushed the herbs into a paste, combining the hellebore root with nightshade. Ceremoniously, he applied some unguent on his neck and wrists. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply as though meditating upon his next course of action.

  Hrioshango handed Arxu a damp cloth and hissed, “Absorb the lifeblood.” Arxu gently lifted Nishka beneath her shoulders and cleaned her wound. Hrioshango held out his hand and Arxu offered the cloth to him.

  The darkling eyed him with amusement.

  “No. Wring the blood into my hand.” Arxu paused, unsure he had heard the darkling correctly. Without another moment to consider the strange request, he wrung the cloth over Hrioshango’s hand, letting blood drip into his palm and collect in the dark grooves of his lifelines.

  Hrioshango dipped two clawed fingers in the blood and traced graceful runes on Nishka’s left cheek. He muttered quietly and concentrated on the woman. Arxu could feel a change in the energy around him. He watched as the color returned to Nishka’s face, and she breathed easier.

  Arxu gently rested his hand on her head. He was convinced he felt some form of relief. Whatever emotion this near disaster had provoked, he would soon forget it. It would fade in time, never to be restored.

  * * *

  The shroud of fog departed as shadows reigned across the forest. Twilight descended and a weakened Nishka opened her eyes. She moaned and Arxu barely heard the soft sound.

  “Nishka, I found someone who healed you,” he whispered, crawling to her side. She blinked furiously and gazed at Arxu. The expression on her face spoke volumes of confusion. “Do you feel pain?”

  Across the campsite, the darkling studied the curious pair.

  “I have something that can help her,” he rasped. Arxu gestured for Hrioshango to administer aid, but not before meeting his eyes.

  “I’m going to gather wood to make a fire for Nishka. I won’t be gone long.” The Nightwalker turned away and ventured into the shadows.

  Hrioshango carefully approached the delirious woman. Nishka couldn’t tell who or what Hrioshango was, so lightheaded was she. She uttered weak sounds but she couldn’t string any syllables together to form words.

  Hrioshango removed a dark glass vial from his cloak, his spidery fingers prying the top from it. A colorless substance poured from the vial, shimmering in his palm. Hrioshango took her right hand and applied the oil.

  Nishka gave an involuntary shudder, and she felt her lungs expand in relief. Her vision gradually sharpened, every detail leaping out at her. Even the smallest leaf shivering above came into focus with astonishing clarity.

  The night air became so cold that it tingled. Nishka’s skin felt numb and her breath came out in short stabs. It felt as though her body was floating up into the sky and as she reached the top, she was dissolving into millions of pieces. The most enchanting euphoria flowed through her limbs, rendering them limp.

  Her body seemed to be hurling through space, flying into a void from which there was no return. Nishka’s eyes widened and panic consumed her. She cried out in alarm and Hrioshango scampered at the sound. His head spun and his eyes darted back and forth around the forest. His analysis was cut short as something emerged from the silhouetted trees behind him. Hrioshango felt the cold steel tip of a staff against his neck.

  “Hrioshango not understand! She should be happy to see Hrioshango!”

  “What happened? What did you do?” Arxu demanded.

  “It was supposed to make her fall in love with me!”

  “What was?”

  “Hrioshango making her feel better!”

  “What did you—administer?” Arxu struggled to make sense of the situation. “Why did you believe this would make her happy?”

  “Because it makes Hrioshango extremely happy! It makes Hrioshango feel like he is in love!” He held up the vial for Arxu to see. A clear liquid swam inside the glass container. It glimmered for Arxu’s eyes to see, looking eerie in the moonlight. He recognized it as “flying potion,” a hallucinogenic drug used by the deviant to attain a higher state of being. Its continued use resulted in several brain dysfunctions, among them, dementia.

  He immediately understood why Hrioshango had tasked him to gather belladonna and black hellebore—not for Nishka, but to sate this creature’s insatiable addiction and further his ploy at seduction. Arxu couldn’t forgive the creature for exposing Nishka to a potentially fatal drug. The staff tip rested dangerously under his chin.

  “Hrioshango thought it make her love me! Er… more susceptible to his charms. And do crazy things to him!” Nishka was coherent enough to understand Hrioshango’s intentions.

  “That thing was trying to have sex with me?!” The darkling retracted as though he had been splashed with cold water.

  “Hrioshango is outraged! Hrioshango is a chaos magician, not a thing! As for the other part of your statement… well, Hrioshango cannot deny that.”

  “Kill it!” Nishka shrieked and she darted for her crossbow, gra
ppling in the darkness. “Where is my crossbow?” Arxu looked at a loss for words. Nishka suddenly realized they had lost more than just the weapon. “Where is the cart?” Nishka said, her anxiety rising, and she attempted to stand.

  Hrioshango slowly took a step backward. He edged away from the humans toward the infinite forest. Only a few more steps and he could disappear into obscurity. Arxu quickly turned on him and uttered, “You’re going to help us recover the crossbow and the cart.”

  “No, no—” Hrioshango protested, but Arxu maneuvered the staff tip closer to his throat. The cold steel made him recoil nervously. “Hrioshango is a chaos magician,” he growled.

  The implied threat did not sway Arxu.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  Chapter 9

  Arxu didn’t believe he could trust the darkling, but it would aid him regardless. If it caused him any danger, he would kill it without hesitation. He suspected the creature entertained similar thoughts, and it would retaliate if allowed the opportunity.

  Nishka struggled to her feet, eager to follow them.

  “Nishka, you need to rest,” Arxu said.

  “I can walk. I may not fight, but I need to make sure we recover the cart.” As Arxu watched her depart, he suspected the drug revitalized her. Nishka feebly navigated between the trees, sometimes reaching toward a low branch for support. Her balance failed once and she fell to her knees with a grunt.

  “Nishka, you should return to the glen and rest,” Arxu said as he took her arm.

  “Do you want to pick me up and carry me back there? Because I’m not letting those creatures have the cart.” Arxu could see it was pointless to dissuade her. He offered her his walking staff. Nishka hesitated, afraid to touch the paranormal object. Timidly, she reached out and accepted it with a nod of gratitude.

  Hrioshango slinked through the wilderness, casting furtive glances at the Nightwalker. He could not bear the thought that this human had caught him in the midst of his seductive ploy.

  In his mind, he had done nothing wrong; he was only improving his chances that this woman would fall in love with him. It was no use trying to explain this, he realized. For this, his resentment toward the man was steadily growing. Furthermore, he suspected this man’s power rivaled his.

  The stillness of the forest was eerie and foreboding. Had they not known igliuhs dwelt there, they would have assumed it was uninhabited. Spindly fir trees towered far above them, their drooping limbs barbed with needles.

  The grove expanded, revealing hundreds of trees decimated beyond the shadowy horizon. The chilling spectacle extended for a distance, appearing pallid gray in the night. The surreal sight taunted Nishka, as though something nefarious was concealed just beyond the line of her sight. A veil of ashes coated the wasteland, shifting like snow in the quiet breeze.

  It was strangely peaceful, a land of glistening dust dancing in flowing zephyrs. Nishka gasped as ashes fell from a collapsed tree, like a heavenly rain that pierced the mist. She lifted her face as ashes alighted on her skin, tickling her eyelashes. The canopy faded into view like an intricate spider web of bare branches, stealing Nishka’s breath away.

  Gradually, the ground softened, and they could see trees rear over the horizon. Arxu slowed in his steps, the pine needles snapping beneath his feet. Through the mist he recognized the signs of a bonfire. Plumes of smoke stretched lazily into the sky like a tempest gathering before disaster.

  He abandoned the trail and drifted among the trees that jutted from the earth like ancient obelisks. Nothing dared move in the dark, but he could hear sounds in the distance, low voices murmuring in the shadows, speaking in a language Arxu could not comprehend.

  The igliuhs communicated only several primitive ideas, none of which were pleasant. At last, they returned to the site of attack and hid behind the trees. There were more igliuhs, and they were fighting over the weapons. The igliuhs had formed a campsite around the scavenged cart. A massive bonfire crackled in the midst of the camp, and the donkey that had escaped was being roasted over the flames.

  Armor and weapons were strewn across the campsite. Igliuhs walked among the debris, protectively wandering near their spoils. Two igliuhs roughly tugged on a breastplate, neither one surrendering the prize. Nishka looked on with fury.

  Arxu almost feared she would rise from hiding. He looked into her eyes and Nishka nodded, assuring him she would not intervene.

  Satisfied, Arxu stood up straight and moved beyond the shrubs. He walked toward the bonfire like a moth attracted to flame—just before it is snuffed in the blink of an eye. Hrioshango walked beside him with incredible calmness in the face of death. The igliuhs stopped and spun toward the intruders. Their hands reached for weapons. One of them wore a wild dog skin around his waist with the grisly head still attached. A helmet made of sundried skull contoured around his head.

  He reached for an iron sword dangling from a weapon rack, glimmering with rust. Arxu suspected that it was the warlord of the clan. Some of the igliuhs were larger than most men he had ever seen. Their yellowed teeth glistened voraciously as their lips peeled back in feral snarls.

  The degenerate humanoids tensed, leering and clenching their fingers. Perhaps they imagined rending the intruders limb from limb. It was impossible to discern the atrocities going through their minds. A savage frenzy possessed the igliuhs.

  Arxu’s hand darted for two slender objects at his waist, drawing two gem rods from a quiver. He began to speak words in a tongue that Nishka couldn’t understand. A deep ambience pervaded the atmosphere and energy swelled around him. A sizzling bolt of lightning burst forth. The bolt lanced across several igliuhs and a stray fork snapped across the campfire, sending a shower of embers. Enraged igliuhs scattered at the violent display.

  Nishka feared the emotionless Nightwalker would inadvertently set the forest on fire. Frenzied igliuhs massed at the opposite end of the camp, rushing for a charge to overtake the intruders.

  Arxu reached into his satchel presumably for spell components. One of the igliuhs pointed its sword at the Nightwalker and shouted something. The igliuhs erupted forth.

  Arxu didn’t even blink as he retrieved a red garnet from his inventory. He slipped the stone under his tongue and faced his opponents. Tongues of fire departed from his lips, billowing in great plumes across the igliuhs. His flaming breath drove back the igliuhs that were not maddened enough to continue their bloodthirsty assault.

  He quickly launched into the next phase of his defensive strategy. The ring on Arxu’s left hand pulsed with blue light. He outstretched his hand toward a boulder across the encampment and curled it into a fist. The rock levitated above the ground, corresponding to his motions as though he grasped it in his hand. He swung his arm to his left and the boulder slammed into a cluster of igliuhs. The large rock continued to roll across the camp, forging a path of devastation.

  Nishka watched with amazement as Hrioshango drew a long sword from a dagger sheath that could not physically contain the object. The bizarre creature swung his blade at an oncoming assailant and cut its legs. The difference in height seemed to have little bearing on the dexterous chaos magician. He agilely dodged attacks and retaliated with fluid movement. The igliuhs’ attacks were so focused on force that he scarcely needed to parry, only evade their strikes.

  Arxu skillfully eluded their blows with cunning dodges and twists, whipping his staff across and thrusting its tip toward any foe that came too close.

  Suddenly, a foot slammed into Arxu’s gut and propelled him off the ground. The igliuh warlord kicked Arxu and he fell toward the bonfire. He rolled across the ground and stopped short of the flames, though he could feel the intense heat singing his cloak. He sprang to his feet and faced the warlord. It was much larger than the other igliuhs, at least seven feet tall.

  Arxu feinted high with the staff and kicked embers at the warlord, trying to blind the creature. He was not expecting the igliuh to dodge as fast it did. In fact, he was hardly prepared for the monster
’s immediate retaliation.

  Across the campsite, Hrioshango fended off two igliuhs simultaneously. He parried an obscenely large blade and darted back to avoid the other enemy attack. He reveled in the chaos of battle, the rush of avoiding death by a split second. Perhaps even more invigorating was the act of taking a life.

  Unfortunately for him, the igliuhs felt precisely the same way. Hrioshango’s blade swerved back and forth like a retractable fang, retreating into a parry and lunging out with surgical precision. He defeated an enemy attack with a conniving swing and jabbed the igliuh twice in the abdomen.

  The creature howled in fury and chopped at the darkling. Hrioshango swiftly stepped aside and stabbed the monster’s arm. The second igliuh was not far away, bearing down on Hrioshango from another angle. A flurry of blades ensued, three humanoids trying desperately to emerge alive from the fray. Hrioshango’s blade could be seen slapping at the larger, black swords, his weapon all but flimsy compared to the opposition.

  His sword worked furiously to defend against the igliuhs, almost losing his arm in the process. He cried out enthusiastically and plunged his blade into an igliuh’s chest. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pull it out.

  The igliuh screamed in rage and swung its sword. The second monster died as the blade crushed its skull. Hrioshango watched helplessly as the enraged creature picked up the warrior’s sword, now wielding two large blades while a third remained jutting from its chest.

  It turned furiously on the darkling.

  “Wonderful,” Hrioshango sarcastically said.

  * * *

  The grotesque warlord circled around the bonfire, closing in on Arxu. Its eyes gleamed dangerously in the firelight, black holes reminiscent of the darkest new moon.

  Its left hand remained clutching an ebony blade, a deadly instrument easily twice the length of Arxu’s arm. With a spasm, its right claw outstretched, its protruding nails poised for assault. The igliuh preferred to soften its prey before devouring it. By the looks of the man, he would prove a succulent meal.