The Undying God

by Nathan Wilson

  “Where are we going?” Hrioshango chirped. Only a day ago, Nishka had argued against Arxu taking her home. She insisted they continue their journey across the city-states and sell her father’s goods. To further complicate matters, she was intent on solving the outbreak of temple murders. Arxu couldn’t imagine why she felt an obligation to prevent the deaths of strangers. They would pass one of the major cities on their way to Riverwell regardless, so Nishka suggested they detour through the province.

  “Gaelithea,” Arxu replied. The darkling immediately cackled, a sound that did not sit well with Arxu.

  “Stop it,” Nishka said.

  “Ah, but you both have no idea how lucky you are! Gaelithea is so much better in person than the stories allude to!”

  “What stories?” Arxu asked.

  “You’ll see. You will never experience another city like this in all of your travels.”

  “You’re vile, Hrioshango. I don’t plan on lingering there for very long,” Nishka said.

  “Nishka, you should keep an open mind. Give Gaelithea a chance!” Hrioshango burst into laughter once more.

  Many crossroads and forests later, they stood before the infamous city of Gaelithea.

  Impressive walls surrounded it like the gates to heaven or hell. One glance at the gatehouse dispelled any first impressions of heaven.

  Hundreds of pikes loomed on the gatehouse with grisly skulls mounted upon them. Jutting from the ground like the limbs of a skeleton were black tusks from extinct beasts. Framed against the city walls, they were nearly as tall as the portcullis itself.

  Nishka couldn’t tear her eyes away from the road forested with pikes and skulls. She wanted to run away and force the gruesome images out of her mind.

  Maybe they were criminals, she thought. Maybe they deserved it. They slowed to a crawl at the foot of the portcullis. They silently studied the arrow loops in the gatehouse. Arxu wouldn’t be surprised if more than a hundred arrows were pointed at them, their barbed tips poised for rending. It was simply another facet of the paranoid city-states to him. To others blessed or cursed with emotions, it was a facet of life or death.

  A disembodied voice resounded from beyond the portcullis.

  “Hold your position!” Arxu signaled for Hrioshango to stop. “Why do you near Gaelithea? Who are you?” the voice demanded. At last, Arxu stepped forward to address the hidden gatekeeper.

  “I am Arxu and my companions are Nishka and Hrioshango. We have ventured to Gaelithea for trade.”

  “Do you have passes to enter our city?” Nishka and Arxu exchanged confused looks. Suddenly, their intentions of commerce seemed feeble at best. As they teetered on uncertainty, Hrioshango excitedly reached into his cloak. He dug through his pockets and produced a yellowed piece of parchment bearing an official seal.

  “Show them this!” Arxu didn’t have time to consider how such a document had fallen into his hands—which was good because Hrioshango didn’t want to explain his role in that disastrous hostage situation four years ago.

  Arxu approached the portcullis and presented the document to the sentry through the bars. The guard studied it and his face contorted into a scowl. He skulked away. Nishka’s anxiety rose at his disappearance.

  “Damn it, let’s get out of here!” she said. Hrioshango grinned wider. That foul expression only encouraged her worst fears. She suddenly spun toward the darkling.

  “What in the hells did you give him, you—?!”

  The iron portcullis shuddered. Nishka didn’t dare approach the latticed gate. It convulsed again and slowly rose to admit them. Nishka was the first to enter the gatehouse. As they passed through, Arxu scanned the murder holes above, cleverly devised to rain down all manner of horrors.

  The second gate began to lift, chains bearing the weight and winding ominously. As the portcullis rose, the din of people resounded from the distance. It grew louder like a voice belonging to the restless streets. So awestruck was Nishka that she didn’t notice a morbid skull impaled on the portcullis bars. She swallowed her hesitation and crossed the border into Gaelithea.

  The steel trap slammed down and impaled Hrioshango’s cloak. He clasped the tough material and tugged. The cloak ripped free of the gate and he floundered to the streets.

  Nishka jerked to a stop and saw one of the sentries watching them, standing quite visibly on a rooftop, making no effort to conceal himself.

  “The watch,” Arxu commented. The sentries seemed conspicuously located on every street corner, an omnipresent force that permeated each corridor. They wandered in pairs, maintaining and enforcing political power.

  “Correct,” said a guard in chainmail. He stepped out from the crowd and moved his cloak ever so subtly so they could see the sword gleaming on his hip. “It helps keep the people in line. We may need another patrol to accommodate your friend here,” he sneered, indicating Hrioshango with obvious disdain. Arxu and Nishka tensed for an explosion of rage from their friend. Remarkably, the darkling did not lash out. Instead, he matched the guard’s smirk with a grin so demented that it gave everyone pause.

  The guard cleared his throat uncomfortably and backed away, not once taking his eyes off Hrioshango.

  “That went well,” Nishka remarked.

  There was an aesthetic quality to the foreboding city. While Gaelithea itself appeared grim, it didn’t cast a pall on the citizens. The people didn’t have scowls etched into their faces and they didn’t stare rudely at Arxu.

  The crowd around them was becoming thicker and Arxu nearly lost his balance among the throng. He and Nishka were packed so tightly there seemed to be someone on every side of them. The people’s voices were mingled in a singular, incomprehensible drone.

  Shouts of alarm erupted from the crowd and Nishka and Arxu turned their heads to consider the confusion.

  “You sick, perverted—” The crowd parted and the spectacle that met their eyes rendered them speechless. A visibly disturbed woman had a solid grip on Hrioshango’s arm and her expression was one of utter horror. Her hand was clasped around a third arm protruding from his chest.

  Hrioshango wore an expression of disbelief, his eyes now rounded with guilty surprise. The woman screamed.

  “What is that?!” Nishka exclaimed.

  Heads turned and onlookers retreated. The city watch spied the commotion and infiltrated the crowd. Hrioshango panicked at the sight of the approaching guards. The chaos magician fled across the street and ran up the side of a building to escape.

  Nishka blinked away her shock and realized her jaw had dropped. She nudged Arxu, guiding him away from the scene. They didn’t wish to be associated with the darkling after his spontaneous mischief. Careful not to encounter any guards, they left the excited crowd far behind.

  The Nightwalker curiously regarded the streets. Arxu was so accustomed to the dirt roads that the street surface felt unfamiliar. His path had so often led him through forests that he rarely entered settlements, nonetheless a major city-state like Gaelithea. His feet ached from travel and suddenly he realized he agreed with Nishka’s sentiments for a pleasant inn.

  Further down the street, a strong form swept through the populace. Margzor strode among the humans with a predatory gait, his eyes roaming over them with the indifference of one observing the dead. Unexpectedly, a woman appeared before him who contrasted with the mundane faces. Nishka moved gracefully with the ebb and flow of the people, just beyond his reach.

  Margzor’s gaze followed her with undisguised wonder. Nishka eventually disappeared into the masses and he looked away. He couldn’t help but appreciate her beauty. Marzgor melted back into the crowd without a sound.

  * * *

  Nishka and Arxu departed from the inn early the next day. The morning was dim and the sky above foretold rain. Several stores were located to their right, specializing in pottery, candles, and trinkets.

  “Greetings, fiendling!” a familiar voice chimed. Nishka turned around to find Hrioshango slip out of a pawnshop. He tipped his h
at and joined them on their leisurely stroll. As they walked, Nishka eyed him with suspicion. The darkling immediately began to stutter.

  “What? Hrioshango was—trying to get through the crowd!”

  “You have three arms?”

  “No. That is an extra appendage that—well, helps me move through the crowd! It is temporary—a chaos power.”

  “You thought you could hide your sick desires in the anonymity of the masses,” Nishka accused. The darkling immediately flourished his claws and pointed at her menacingly.

  “Hrioshango will not engage in further debate with blacksmith apprentice human! He is innocent.” Nishka laughed at his ridiculous attempt to deflect blame.

  “What do you know about blacksmiths’ daughters? We can be very powerful debaters. It seems you’re frightened of talking to me.”

  “Hrioshango is equally persuasive! His natural—er, charm pervades his words!” Nishka laughed again.

  “You couldn’t barter your way into the arms of a nymphomaniac,” she quipped.

  “Of course Hrioshango can barter his way into the arms of a nymphomaniac!” he said, making Nishka howl even louder. Hrioshango scowled at the woman. “Hrioshango can barter his way out of and into many things! And various establishments of distinguished repute! In fact, he once bartered a vial of his blood for—”

  They entered the city square and stopped dead in their tracks. Their eyes focused on the corpses suspended. Guards lingered in the distance like armored wraiths nourishing on the deaths of the damned. The ropes binding the hanged were attached to a gigantic statue resembling a young maiden. Her eyes were perpetually shut in sorrow, her angelic visage adorned with an expression of eternal sleep. The condemned dangled from her arms like souls awaiting judgment.

  The execution site was wretched beyond words. Nishka felt weak in her stomach. Hrioshango looked on with surprise, but he did not appear horrified by the spectacle of cruelty. Arxu just stared silently, searching for an emotion to feel.

  He witnessed a strange structure beyond the city square. The edifice resembled two spires entwined around each other. Statues leered down from the fortress, stone carved into inhuman beings and beasts. Soaring into the sky, the immaculate tower was crowned with a forest of elongated spikes. Arxu knew beyond a doubt whom the exotic fortress belonged to. Only a totalitarian would reside in a palace dedicated to moral genocide.

  Nishka was the first to retreat from the hideous scene. Arxu departed from the city square and followed her while Hrioshango lingered.

  Chapter 17

  Arxu attempted several times to say something but the words couldn’t make it past his tongue. Arguably, empathy was far beyond his skill. Nishka had returned to the inn and silently secluded herself in her room.

  The Nightwalker looked out the window and observed the dark city. He could barely see the fortified tower in the distance. Its imposing stature demanded a paradox of admiration and fear if he was capable of such a thing.

  “Gaelithea’s king was overthrown six years ago,” Nishka spoke. She lifted her eyes from the floor and regarded her quiet companion. “A soldier named Iziloth rules in his place. He systematically transformed the city-state into a military establishment. Every crime is punished with death and horrific methods of torture. He wants to make an example of criminals.” Arxu didn’t respond.

  “While he was at war, his fiancée was…” Hesitation closed down on her throat. “…raped and killed.” Nishka looked out the window and her blue eyes rested on the statue. The carved woman no longer bore the bodies of the dead. It almost looked as though the criminals had been sacrificed to her.

  Nishka could see a resemblance between the statue and local descriptions of the murdered woman. How would she feel if she knew her lover punished thousands as retribution for her death?

  “The king refused to grant Iziloth a trial to prosecute the murderers because they were nobles. With nothing to lose, he gathered troops loyal to him and stormed the garrison. He slew the king and claimed dominion over the city. He tortures and executes to punish society.” She sorrowfully shut her eyes. “Arxu, how are you able to justify killing another human being?”

  “To end any threat against me.” Nishka snorted in disgust.

  “No one deserves to die like that.” Arxu’s eyes seemed to fade and gaze through her as if he was looking beyond this very room. “What Iziloth has brought to this city is inhumane and evil, no matter how he tries to justify it.”

  “You oppose the punishment of death?”

  “I oppose the abuse of the death penalty and the use of torture. Gaelithea authorizes the genocide of its own people.”

  “You didn’t intend to kill the man who accosted you in Sepulzer?” Nishka shook her head.

  “I didn’t want to kill him. I would do whatever is necessary to protect myself, but I can’t imagine killing another human being.”

  “Sometimes, the use of deadly force is the only way to ensure your safety.”

  “Yes, I understand. But you don’t seem to care that you’re murdering another person.”

  “...No,” Arxu replied. “I feel nothing.”

  “Well, you should care,” Nishka retorted. “Isn’t that what separates humans from monsters?” Arxu recalled the execution site, pondering the fine line between his species and lesser life forms.

  “One could say that humans are the most dangerous animal of all.”

  “I would like to think that more people are virtuous than evil.”

  “Unfortunately, that is beyond our ability to truly understand. You have not seen all of the good contained in this world, nor have you seen all of the evil humankind is capable of. Thus, you cannot say the majority is virtuous. Perhaps our potential for evil is greater than our potential for good.”

  “And if the majority of society is wicked, what would you do, Arxu?” The Nightwalker shattered his eye contact with the woman. How could he cope with such a possibility?

  “Compassion or respect for life shouldn’t interfere with self-defense. I wouldn’t restrain myself from doing anything to neutralize my opposition.” He hadn’t exactly answered her question, but she figured it was just as well.

  “There are less severe options than murder,” Nishka pointed out. “I disarmed that criminal in Sepulzer.”

  “And you did so in a rather violent manner. You also killed that bandit in the forest—”

  Nishka bowed her head in shame. She still couldn’t accept the fact that she took the life of another person. Arxu fell silent and looked at the deadly instrument clutched in his hands. He rarely parted from his staff. He set it on the bed and let go. He turned to Nishka and observed her sadness.

  He could barely remember when he first met Nishka, her father kissed her on the cheek when she looked sorrowful. He didn’t exactly understand the meaning of this gesture, but perhaps he did before his memory failed him. He leaned toward Nishka, bringing his face closer to hers.

  “Arxu, what are you doing—?” She leaped up from her bed and retreated across the room.

  “I thought it would make you less sad.”

  “What?”

  “I saw your father kiss you when you looked sad.” Nishka didn’t immediately know what he was talking about. Suddenly, she burst into laughter.

  “That was a sign of affection, Arxu. You aren’t my family.” Arxu looked no more enlightened than if she spoke in a foreign language.

  “I don’t understand what affection is. Perhaps you can explain it to me when you are feeling better?”

  “Okay...” Again, she smiled at the awkward exchange. “How do you know what a kiss is?”

  “I confess that I don’t know what it means. I have heard others call this gesture a kiss.”

  “I’m surprised you can recognize the expression of sadness,” she finally said.

  “Sometimes I can sense other people’s emotions if I train myself to study their behavior.”

  “Have you been studying me?”

  “Yes, y
ou and Hrioshango. Although, his expression seldom changes. He always looks happy.”

  “You mean mischievous and insane. That’s what you see,” Nishka laughed.

  “When I see you smile, am I to assume you are mischievous and insane?”

  “Insane, no. Mischievous…?” she smiled. “You never know.” Her voice rippled with laughter and she sat down next to him. “You need help regaining your emotions, Arxu. I’m astonished you’ve lasted this long without them... How long have you been this way?”

  “I’m not sure. I scarcely know how much time has passed. Every day seems a replica of yesterday, thus I do not know anymore.”

  “Which is why you feel nothing when you take another person’s life.”

  “I would rather my feelings not interfere with my survival. If you are suggesting I am socially impaired—then yes, I am. However, my lack of feeling also places me at an advantage in combat. I can outlast my opponents and kill them with efficiency.”

  “You don’t even sound human when you talk about defending yourself,” Nishka said, her voice thick with concern. She turned away to look out the window. Arxu’s reflection in the glass looked surreal, his expression so serious and tame. She wished she could help Arxu. She couldn’t imagine how painful it must be to feel nothing.

  Perhaps he didn’t mind feeling nothing at all, content with apathy. After all, he didn’t feel sadness… yet he was denied joy. Still, that didn’t excuse him from the callous way he described killing. She starkly remembered that Arxu had been murdered himself.

  “You know what it feels like to have—”

  Arxu was not there.

  The place he occupied by her bed was empty. She wished he had stayed a moment longer. He brought her a measure of comfort in this strange city. As she considered the late hour, she leaned toward the candle glowing near her bed.

  A single breath from her glossy lips extinguished it.