“This is the creature that killed me.”
Chapter 28
Margzor wandered the forest as the sun dipped below the clouds. Isolation did not torment him at this hour. He did not focus on the tragedy of existence, instead, swept away in the embrace of nature.
The sky above was the epitome of beauty. If only the common man and woman could worship this beauty, not the pretty idols that blemished society. Margzor smiled at the amusing notion.
It was pathetic the way they regarded someone as the pinnacle of everything good in the world, and that virtue seemed only to originate from her beauty and sexual charms.
They strived to emulate Astalla in every way, to be perfect in spirit and flesh. He could not imagine spending his life in pursuit of a goal so vain. For him, virginity was not a matter of purity or moral righteousness, but an absence of love.
It represented the bitter reality that no woman trusted him or loved him enough to share affection. He could only imagine what it felt like.
To be loved.
What would they turn to without their precious idols? How shall they live when loveliness is no more?
The very concept they adore would be perverted into something grotesque and unspeakable. Every idol would be stricken with physical deformity, and every human would lose sight of beauty.
Beauty only gives rise to lust, a perversion of love, thought Margzor. He would redefine these concepts as a demigod. Men and women would be forced to love each other not for their physical attributes but for the contents of their hearts. Their culture of superficial worship would be struck down. No one would ever be judged again.
He would never be judged…
Anger and pain gradually subsided. He paused at the edge of the forest to behold a majestic sunset, painting a serene smile on his face. He reflected on the gorgeous woman who showed him kindness.
Margzor reminisced of her heavenly face, so rich and captivating, endowed with blue eyes that should never cry. How he wished he could wade into her embrace and love her. He wanted to adore her, hold her close to him and shelter her from pain. He could imagine her fingertips brushing against his chest, healing him. Had he only dreamt of her?
The gentle melody of her voice lingered in his memory, lulling him away. Away from this reality.
No human could be worthy enough to walk near her or speak to her. Surely, he did not feel that he was deserving of her mercy, let alone a glimpse into her eyes. Perhaps he was a hypocrite for falling prey to this … idolatry. Yet, it was not her body or face that endeared him.
Her humanity captivated his soul.
Silence enchanted him and he studied the forest. The leaves swayed in the sighing breeze. His lonely soul relaxed and opened himself up to the world around him. Margzor found himself looking at the gilded skies as if the very image struck a chord deep within his heart.
A twinge of happiness.
* * *
The silhouette among the ruins loped forward with long, spindly limbs. Arxu stared at the creature with growing concern. The figure was a head above him, taller than most men. He could not see every detail of the being, so obscured was it in the dark.
Nonetheless, he felt a change overcome him as its presence seeped through the ruins. It sent a bitter feeling through Arxu that made him sick. Anxiety and anger began to blur his mind. The creature emerged from the shadows, revealing itself in full splendor. Its face was twisted in a harsh grimace, pulling the skin tight over its gaunt cheeks. Adding to its overall decadence, six metallic rings punctured its ears and two adorned its nostrils.
Arxu’s eyes were drawn to the curved horns jutting from its scalp. Perhaps most foreboding of all, crooked fingers protruded from its hands. A gray membrane stretched between the digits and elongated into vast wings.
“You...” the Defiler croaked. It stalked across the courtyard, looking invasively into Arxu’s eyes. “What abomination are you?”
Arxu’s hand subconsciously drifted toward his left breast. His fingers jerked against the scars he felt there. The beast smiled knowingly at the wound it had inflicted long ago.
Hrioshango muttered something under his breath and gestured for a spell. Arxu quickly produced a piece of tree resin and Hrioshango froze, encased in a matrix of amber. Nishka gawked at her companion. Arxu stared hard at his murderer, not letting it out of his sight.
“Nishka, run.”
“No.” Her bold reply caught him off guard and he spun to face her. The Defiler lashed out with its claws, splitting a gash across Arxu’s chest. “No!” screamed Nishka.
“Your dead flesh still bleeds,” his nemesis said, taking joy in this revelation.
Arxu felt burning in his limbs. To his horror, his skin began to flake and it floated to the forest floor like dust. Blackened veins spiderwebbed across his arms and pulsed on his neck. His eyes glazed over with a sickly film and became engorged.
The Defiler cackled, the very sound like coarse fire oozing down its throat. Without warning, a crossbow bolt slammed into its chest. The Defiler toppled to the courtyard with an anguished screech. Nishka reached for another bolt to shoot the beast. Her intervention briefly interrupted the necrophagic attack on Arxu. The Nightwalker recovered from his seizure and breathed heavily. Rage compensated for his setback, forcing his mind away from the pain.
His eyes fixed on Nishka, pleading with her to run. Without waiting for an answer, he fled into the ruins like a soul already resigned to death. Another screech gushed from the Defiler’s jaws. Its wings outstretched like a tattered canvas and caught the screaming wind.
Nishka immediately pursued Arxu. She feared he was distancing himself to avoid bringing her harm—or so she did not witness him die. She still wondered why he had incapacitated Hrioshango.
Perhaps he wanted his murderer all to himself.
Darting under bony arches, Arxu felt the monster’s shadow drape across him. Even as he entered the marble courtyard, he knew the creature was right before him. The Defiler feinted high and lashed out toward Arxu’s legs. He nimbly evaded the attack but he did not execute the dodge as skillfully as his past endeavors. Arxu grimaced and called on the magick stored in his quartz ring. A pulse of energy swept through the courtyard, churning dead leaves. A broken pillar slowly hovered above the ruins, fighting the chains of gravity. Arxu took an arduous step forward against the distorted space.
The Defiler almost didn’t see the flying pillar closing in. It clipped the monster’s wing and bruised a towering structure. A fracture veined through the obelisk, widening like a black river. With a groan, the obelisk slouched and collapsed on an arch.
Arxu raced toward the newly constructed bridge to draw the creature further away. As he stepped foot on the obelisk, the Defiler swooped down in front of him. It lunged forward with a cry and tried to hook its jaws around his neck.
Nishka came to a stop across the ruins when she spotted the Nightwalker and Defiler. They twisted back and forth, exchanging one blow for another.
She frantically raised her crossbow to line up a shot. Her finger stalled on the trigger, afraid of hitting Arxu. He recklessly plunged ahead and opened up his defenses to the creature.
Its nails raked across his arm like a scythe. Arxu recoiled with shock, slipping over the edge in a fatal plunge. His hand shot out and caught hold of a precipice by sheer luck. A marble courtyard loomed below him, a gloomy receptacle awaiting his corpse. His bones would shatter like glass on the ice-cold surface. Already the strength was draining from his body. Nishka watched with dismay as the staff slipped from his fingers.
He managed to catch it between his feet with acrobatic grace. Even as he dangled from the ledge, his murderer approached. Arxu’s fingers worked fast as he extracted a dagger from his belt. He twisted and slammed it into the Defiler’s foot, eliciting a cry of pain.
Arxu climbed back onto the beam and clutched his staff, prepared to meet the creature’s assault.
The Defiler breathed throatily as black ichor oozed from i
ts wound. It crept forward, not letting Arxu escape its piercing gaze, wretched eyes that once tormented countless victims. The Defiler unfolded its wings, a sinewy tapestry of flesh and cartilage. The morbid sight caught Arxu off guard. Before he could respond, the Defiler plunged from the walkway and swooped through several arches below. The sky was its sacred domain.
Feeling exposed, Arxu scanned his left and spotted a fairly adjacent pillar. After the dizzy sensation passed, he leaped forward and hugged the column in his desperate embrace. This time, his staff escaped his grasp and he did not catch it. He felt naked without his weapon as he slid down the pillar.
The second he landed in the courtyard, he scampered toward his staff. A screech skewered his brain and he threw himself to the ground. The Defiler narrowly missed him but it seized the staff in its dive. Arxu watched his weapon cartwheel through the air, disappearing into the mist.
He ran halfway across the courtyard, trying to evade the shadow it cast. Much of the forest had withered at the mercy of blight. To his surprise, a pond remained virtually untouched by the decay. He did not know why the sight paralyzed him in his steps. It looked so familiar, but he couldn’t conjure up a single memory of the waters.
He swerved away from the sight and looked with awe upon a distant structure. Its elaborate design indicated a temple or shrine. Thunder reverberated in the distance, and rain began to pelt the ruins. The ominous sound grew louder, hissing like a gigantic serpent.
He swallowed the knot in his throat and skidded across the courtyard. He snatched up the staff, relieved to have it once again in his hands. Claws sunk into his legs and he was immediately torn off his feet. The Defiler screeched in delight as it carried him into the wind-blasted sky.
The world was blurring around him, caricatures of ruins and obelisks swirling before his eyes. He reached for his dagger. Pain exploded in Arxu’s head as he bashed against an archway. The dagger slipped from his fingers, losing another part of himself.
The Defiler laughed hideously, aware of Arxu’s less than subtle attempts. They were ascending higher with every stroke of its gnarled wings. Arxu thrashed in its clutches and he managed to slam his staff into its throat. He was falling again, plummeting toward the ruins like a raven clipped of its wings. He could acutely feel the blood rushing to his head, suddenly flooding him with delirium. He felt like passing out within the span of a few breaths. What Arxu witnessed next forced him wide awake.
Below him, he saw a jutting obelisk.
He twisted his body to the side and flung his cloak over the apex of the tower. He cringed at the ripping sound, wondering what it would sound like if it was his flesh instead. It slowed his frantic descent as he plummeted toward an ancient stone dais. He released his cape and kicked off, tucking his head as he nimbly rolled.
The Defiler gracefully alighted on the dais. Concentration slipped through Arxu’s fingers with every spell he attempted. Nishka watched with horror. She had never seen him fight like this, like he wasn’t in control. Arxu stabbed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a glistening object. He flailed a moonstone before him and a blinding flash ensued. Spots swam before the Defiler’s eyes until his vision was snuffed out like burning coal.
Arxu rapidly proceeded to reach for a vial on his belt. He applied powdered amber to his left hand as the Defiler rushed forward. He darted around its claws and seized his opponent. Lightning leaped from his hand to coil around its slender throat. The Defiler convulsed, and its jaws snapped together to sever its tongue.
A torrent of lightning screamed in the distance, its ghostly shriek making Arxu’s skin crawl. Rain shattered against the ruins, glistening on the dais where he faced the creature. The Defiler could tell the man was weakening. However, it knew better than to assume Arxu was through. A dying animal would fight to its last breath, reaching a new level of intensity and desperation.
Arxu lunged at the grotesque demon and thrust his staff at its throat. The next feeling he experienced was the Defiler’s fingers slicing through his abdomen.
His painful outcry was barely above a whisper. With the last of his strength and fury, he buried the tip of his staff in the Defiler’s chest.
The parasite tried to grip the staff speared through its heart, but even that simple task demanded all of its strength. Arxu looked into the Defiler’s eyes as it slowly succumbed. It managed another resentful scream even without its tongue. At last, it wrenched out its claw. Arxu convulsed and sank to his knees, shielding his wound with a broken hand.
The Defiler gazed at him and retreated a step backward. It crumpled and plunged into the courtyard below.
Arxu keeled over, blood streaming down his chest, feeling dazed and lost. He saw Nishka running toward him, his vision blurred and every motion slowed. The world seemed to be stretching miles away. She reached out for him and her lips formed a single word that he couldn’t decipher.
He could hear nothing.
Nishka rushed to his aid. Arxu tried to lift his face and reach for her, but the weakness of death overcame him. He held out his hand for Nishka. He needed to know that she had not been harmed.
“Arxu…” said Nishka with perhaps the most vivid expression of sorrow he had ever seen. His will to die was unparalleled. Death had never felt more fulfilling, every second divorcing him from reality. The light and darkness cascaded away, leaving only a void of sensation. Nishka’s hands grappled him, covered in his blood. She breathed heavily, shouting for him to stay.
The delirium of death intoxicated Arxu’s mind and he trembled ecstatically. Light dwindled on the brink of defeat. His world cascaded into black, and in that moment, he no longer knew if he had truly existed at all.
Part III: Metamorphosis
Chapter 29
Arxu jerked and his eyes fluttered open. Night hovered above the glen wherein he lay. His shirt had been removed and he reclined on the soft, dew-bejeweled grass. The silence was only punctured by the rhythm of his deep breaths. He moaned and relaxed against the cold forest floor.
Confusion shrouded his normally sharp memory. Arxu felt as though he was hallucinating or looking through someone else’s eyes. Every sense seemed detached from his body, barely retaining their function.
A woman with blue eyes leaned above him, examining his body. A crossbow was slung across her back in a leather holster. Nishka’s eyes lit up when she saw he had woken.
Even despite the pain, Arxu was struck by the ironic reversal in roles. Not long ago, he treated Nishka for a life-threatening injury. He looked down and saw the red flesh glaring on his pale skin.
Nishka dipped an herbal poultice in a wooden bowl of water, rose petals floating placidly on its surface. A waning moon reflected in the waters like an untarnished silver coin. She applied the cloth over Arxu’s wound, relieving the inflamed site.
“Nishka?”
“Don’t move, Arxu.”
“How long... have I...?” His voice dwindled.
“You’ve been asleep for three days. You wouldn’t respond.” Her blue eyes entreated sorrow. “I thought you were dead.” She clasped the poultice tightly.
She looked at his arms, where he bore strange markings, not wounds inflicted by the Defiler. There she could see vivid runes tracing his skin in blue dye. His hair bore the same indigo tinge. She remembered their conversation about Nightwalkers in exile.
Arxu also looked at the intricate markings, but he did not dare explain them. They looked so pronounced against his skin, an eerie contrast in the moonlight. He attempted to sit upright but he was obviously too weak to do so.
“Let me help,” Nishka said, gathering cloth strips. Arxu realized she had sacrificed the hem of her shirt and part of her pants to assemble the bandages. With a nurturing hand, she applied the strips over his wounds.
Arxu was grateful for her kindness. Even the concept of gratitude somehow made sense to him in his painful delirium. He looked into Nishka’s eyes as she rested a single hand on his forehead.
“Why did he kill you
?” she asked.
Arxu shuddered as if a vicious wind had lashed him. He dropped his gaze.
“I cannot remember,” he whispered. Nishka almost thought he was lying, if he was capable of doing so. In that moment, she knew he carried an emotional wound more visceral than any of the lacerations that marred his body. Arxu trembled from the cold and Nishka reached for his shirt to clothe him.
“We need to find shelter,” she said. The Nightwalker rose from his feeble position and followed.
“Where are we?” They left the small copse enclosed under the black canopy.
“Far from Gaelithea and Azia-Nocti,” Nishka answered.
Arxu vaguely remembered traveling west through a forest toward the city of Eternitas. The name Margzor also rattled around in his consciousness. Presuming he wasn’t suffering from delusions, he believed the man was responsible for massacres across the realm of Eyegad. He had invaded temples devoted to Astalla, the demigoddess of virginity.
Nishka expressed concern over the escalating situation, and she insisted they try to stop Margzor, although she had no idea how.
Arxu had briefly spoken to Astalla not long ago, during which she divulged the murderer’s occult motives. He intended to weaken Astalla through the massacres and take her place as a deity. Of all the gods in creation, who would want to preside over virginity?
Arxu reached the conclusion that Margzor pursued an ideological war, a fantasy of revamping the role of virginity and sexual morality. However, it was not clear to Arxu how Margzor’s deluded notions would change society.
Another concerning threat loomed ahead of him. According to Astalla, a demon possessed the man’s soul, polluting him with hatred and envy, transforming him into a vessel of destruction.
Arxu shook his head and abandoned his worries. He would consider their mission another time. His primary concern was surviving this ordeal. He felt like he could succumb to his wounds before the end of night.
The Undying God Page 19
