The Kakos Realm Collection

by Christopher D Schmitz

  “If we cannot fulfill the tasks of our master, then how will we be of any use to him as he gains his crown of glory and makes himself into the new angel of light?” The mage was warning him against another failure against the krist-chin threat.

  After leaving the private meeting, grr’SHaalg scampered back into the damp darkness of his cave. He chuffed a call to his nearby skolax and the serpent-like, multi-jointed insectoid mount skittered towards him in the darkness.

  He reflected on the information he’d gleaned from Absinthium over the recent weeks as he rode the beast through the secret tunnel networks his family laid claim to. The notion that the demon overlord had nothing less than world domination on his mind would eventually put them at odds, he knew. For now, grr’SHaalg knew that he was definitely in the right camp for the times to come. As he descended the stairway to his home in Under-Grinden, he couldn’t help but think he had perhaps learned too much in recent days.

  grr’SHaalg drummed his lower mandible with a thoughtful talon. The mage seemed too cheerful for his tastes and that disturbed him.

  Perhaps, grr’SHaalg wondered, he did know too much and it might only be a matter of time before a Luciferian assassin group came for him, too, just as he’d sent a team after Nvv-Fryyg.

  ***

  Kevin’s group took the long way around the forest to check out Alad, the town west of Driscul. When they came near Alad, though, they found another group of warriors hedging the borders of the town. Riders must have gone on ahead to raise the constabulary forces and block them. Instead, Kevin took his caravan east on the road leading by the shores of Lake Apigra. The Alad army joined with the one that followed in the distance as they continued giving escort.

  As Kevin’s group came to the outskirts of Driscul, they spotted Dri’bu’s carrier falcons descending to their position. Several of his leadership teams had sent him messages of encouragement. The preacher read each letter and tucked them away; when times grew tougher he knew that he would need them the most.

  Nipanka met Kevin by the roadside and the two groups merged. After a two-day layover, which caused the Christians’ pursuit to halt and grow apprehensive, the conjoined groups departed east. When they arrived at the Jandish and Nindan border, they found another army arrayed against them: a foreign army blocking any admittance to the country of Ninda.

  They had no choice but to travel north, blocked now from the rear and prevented from accessing Ninda in the east. The Christians journeyed around the edge of lake Apigra until they came to the joint of the four countries, Ninda, Jand, Gleend, and Lol.

  It seemed that the reluctant military tried to push the Christians into Lol based on the way that the armies were positioned. If they wanted to respect the authorities of Ninda, they would have to make a circuit through Lol to move safely into Gleend without offending the Nindan guard.

  Kevin halted his group and planted on the border of the four countries, pitching a tent in no-man’s-land. He decided that he would go no further until he had prayed his decision through. The Christians settled and rested while they waited to hear from the Lord. They took time enough to trade stories from different parts of the country and shared the miracles and experiences that they’d each seen and felt.

  ***

  Frinnig cringed at the creaking noises far below him. They sounded like under-ground thunder and the shockwaves seemed to echo through his bones and aggravate his injuries. Goblins had been blasting and grinding away for the last two days, creating an intricate series of tunnels to network the city of Grinden to its subterranean counterpart. The townsfolk felt indifferent regarding its construction; they were still reeling from the aftershock of the recent battle at the quarry and its heavy death toll.

  The Temple Master remained laid up in his chambers. His injuries were severe, though Frinnig expected to fully recover in a matter of weeks. He had a lot of time to think about his condition and reflect on the condition of the realm around him: the condition of man, even.

  All of the Luciferian’s ruminating only seemed to bring him to morbid conclusions. He’d witnessed so much in the recent days and it all felt so muddled together in his mind that he had yet to sort through the quagmire. He had internally dialoged with himself for so long now that he feared he verged on madness, but braving this insanity was the only way to arrive at clarity.

  Frinnig’s mind kept coming to the same thoughts regarding his status within the Order. He rode the fast track to another ascension of rank. He took pride in that, but his innermost being kept interrogating him; was that what he even wanted? The temple leader had seen both faces of the coin. He had seen the actions of the demonic overlord and the responses of the krist-chin leaders.

  He’d previously pledged unwavering faith in the promises of his masters, but now they shared head-space with his immense doubts. As a twenty-seventh degree monk he approached a very prominent escalation and with his involvements lately, it should take only minimal time before he might reach the twenty-ninth degree. That was the level where a monk received Mageship and pledged personal devotion to a demon of the Gathering, studying intensely and sitting under direct tutelage to acquire that rank. Powers and magics would only grow at that level. Personal, demonic alignment carried with it immense powers and direct access to the leylines.

  He’d been considering alignment with beh’-tsah, the lord of his hero, Absinthium. But now, doubt began creeping in. It was not a question of how much devotion he could muster for the demon of bitterness; he was plenty bitter. The problem was one of veracity.

  For the first time, after witnessing all that he’d seen in regards to the krist-chins, he wondered if perhaps they were right. Maybe they had the truth and everything that he knew was wrong.

  If that was the case, his spirit debated within himself, should he surrender his power? Could he even do that? If he did that, would his former enemies accept and forgive him?

  What am I thinking? His thoughts caught a hold of what he’d done. I cannot risk thinking about such things. If I continue down this path of thought, it would be only a matter of time before I convince myself that becoming a Christian might be a viable alternative, something worthy of anything less than condemnation. It would be best to put it out of my mind.

  Absentmindedly clutching his toqeph, Frinnig placated his brain and entertained his mind with trivial things. He whistled a burlesque tune to pass the time away.

  After another blast, a deep rumbling shuddered underfoot from some blast far below. Suddenly, Frinnig felt himself falling as goblin crews accidentally blasted away too many of the critical support foundations which held up the temple, causing an isolated cave-in which took half of the temple underground with it.

  As the cacophony of the collapse subsided and the dust settled, the ekthroic demolitions team cursed and grumbled over the loss of several days’ work as they cleared away the rubble. The work crews cheered as they unearthed Frinnig’s corpse.

  A team of grunt workers tossed him irreverently to the side with the other bodies caught in the collapse. The cheering goblins made another chalk scratch on the slate board below their foreman’s name as they recorded their finds in some sort of twisted game.

  The once auspicious Luciferian, on the verge of his coveted mageship, had become just another corptic tally mark heaped upon the pile of accidental fortunes.

  ***

  Kevin sat with several friends, including Jaker and his gang of rogues. The ranger’s group decided to travel northward with Kevin, anticipating a departure for other lands beyond Jand; many of the rogues planned to cut through Lol on the following morning and eventually pass through and into Mankra where they could command a good price for their skills, hiring themselves out among the warring factions that divided the country. With Rogis’ Rangers officially disbanded, each man made his own plans.

  The preacher had, of course, tried to convert Jaker on many occasions and now gave him one last chance to accept the Gospel before he depart
ed in pursuit of self. It was, though, a vain effort. Jaker had long ago hardened his heart to the words of the preacher, even though he respected him. Jaker had his own plans for his life, and they did not include surrendering his will to a god or power of any sort beyond himself.

  Kevin nodded and quoted a passage from memory. “And Agrippa replied to Paul, ‘In a short while, you will persuade me to become a Christian.’ And Paul said, ‘It is my prayer that in a short time or even a long time, that not only you, but also all who hear me on this day might become a Christian as I am, except for these chains that I wear.’” Jaker’s crew nodded thoughtfully, but saw it as only an inspirational story. Each man had already made decisions deep in his heart.

  “You see,” Kevin said, “and I want there to be no mistaking this. It is the responsibility of each and every one to choose his or her own path in life. You may follow God, or you may choose not to; those are the only two options.

  “You might have seen God do wonderful things in your life, you might even believe in Him as God, you might even consider turning to Him. But, if you do not accept Him and make Him Lord of your life, you will have your own sins to pay for at the great judgment; that is through the damnation of Hell and the resulting eternal separation from God and the Lake of Fire. This is a choice that only you can make; each one must ask themselves if they believe. No man can make this choice for another”

  The ranger gave him a screwy look in response. He wasn’t quite prepared to grapple with his own mortality just yet.

  Kevin continued anyway, knowing that he might not have another chance to share faith with him. “I heard it this way once, in regards to this quotation from the life of the Apostle Paul, ‘almost convinced to follow Christ is still one hundred percent, completely lost.’”

  Jaker nodded his head. He respected the preacher’s words. There was logic and some belief, but no faith and action. “Sorry, preacher. I’m just not one for mathematics and numbers and stuff. I’m not ready to throw in my lot with you just yet. I do like what you’re doing and all—especially as it relates to getting justice for my girl, Kelsa… but I just cannot become one of you. But do try and keep Rashnir out of trouble?”

  Kevin smiled and returned the nod. “What will you do, next?”

  He spread his hands and shrugged. “I don’t quite know. I might go bounty hunting to the North. I’ve heard that the Temple of Light has a number of purses available for verified vampire kills. I might try my hand at that. Lilth’s brood are about the only thing worse than the Luciferians and I hate to work for the Order, but it does pay well.”

  The preacher embraced him briefly before clapping him on the back. He hoped that their paths would cross again, but there was nothing Kevin could do except let the man make his own choices.

  Jaker would depart in the morning, leaving the Christians. Those loyal to Yahweh God would do His bidding and travel in whichever direction He led: Jand, Ninda, Lol, Gleend, even to the very ends of the realm itself.

  The Kakos Realm

  Book 111:

  Death Upon the Fields of Splendor

  by

  Christopher D. Schmitz

  Prologue

  Millennia ago, powerful forces drew unbreakable lines; sides were chosen between the two elder powers. But one of the leaders was a liar. From the very beginning, men chose the false words of hay-lale' above the life-giving ones of Yahweh.

  Even before the days of mighty Mahalaleel, great-grandson of Seth, the twisted kakos burst into existence—clothed in reality. Supernatural in nature, the basic laws that governed the original reality applied less here. Earth's mankind flocked to this new place where they supposed they had even greater freedom. In reality, they shackled future generations in chains forged of impiety—bondage disguised as freedom.

  hay-lale’ created other creatures in mockery of man and angel; they permeated his realm of wickedness: where they called home. The ekthro were hay-lale’s children, as much as mankind belonged to Yahweh. This domain of altered reality masked and ensnared the hearts and minds of the human race. Corruption spilled over into the realm of Earth and iniquity spread across her lands like a plague. Mankind grew so vile and perverse that it grieved Yahweh—the very God who had given it life. The only option, if He was to fulfill the original plan, was to purge the Earth and sever the link of corruption. Only Noah and his family were spared through the waters of the global flood.

  The supernatural gateway joining these worlds, flooded by the waters, barred further passage. Those who had sought respite from the sin-cursed soil of Earth remained trapped in the Kakos. This inescapable place offered no peace of soul. The convicting power of the Spirit which once hovered above the waters was cut off from mankind—reduced to a mere vestigial whispering of the soul.

  But, that which is created cannot be so easily forsaken. There had always existed a contract between Yahweh and hay-lale'. Prophecy was written at the dawn of time, and none of hay-lale's creation could deter Yahweh's will. It had been decreed even before the ancient rebellion.

  After waters flooded the passage between realms, both human and demon-kind trapped were within hay-lale’s creation. Though hay-lale’ cared little for the fate of his own kind, Yahweh made provisions for appointed messengers to be sent for his wayward creation.

  With hay-lale’ absent from the realm, the remaining demon overlords warred amongst themselves, eventually forming a governing body to share in their power base; they created the Gathering in the interest of self-preservation. The council deceived mankind further yet, creating a religion designed to mislead those humans drawn to spiritual introspection. They conceived the Great Lie. Some men’s souls yearned for something deeper and a false religion gave them a placebo. The faith honored the fallen creator of this realm: the Luciferian Order came into being.

  On Earth, the powers of death and darkness, long harnessed by the Deceiver, was thrown down at the foot of Golgotha. Their submission marked the beginning of the end for Lucifer, the one named hay-lale’. The door to redemption had suddenly been flung wide open to all mankind.

  The victory of the cross marked the insertion of the first herald. The chosen angel, Karoz, hurtled through the breach, proclaiming the message of redemption to those trapped inside the forgotten, malevolent lands.

  The power of such sacrifice drew men unto the truth. A faithful seed quickly grew into a great flock until the Gathering rose against their immortal, heaven-born enemy. They smote any who pledged devotion to Yahweh and set upon them with the full brunt of their might. Capturing their leader, Karoz, the Gathering eventually drove them out. The remnant scattered like dust in the wind and the under-demons hunted them down until only a small population remained, driven into faraway lands. Living in seclusion, they became only a minimal threat, and one now ruled by fear and self-preservation

  They lived, and continue to live, under the cloud of oppression, exiled like some secret cult with a true gnosticism. They possess occluded truth, but remain fearful to violate their mandate against proclamation, too afraid of sharing Karoz's fate. The secret community keeps its traditions and hides the light like a candle battling the wind.

  Cautious fear permeates their culture. Any persons who leave are never heard from again. The last such man, Nhoj, clung to his faith, charged with the work Karoz had called them to. He never returned.

  Nhoj languished in an eastern dungeon. By faith he healed an injured warrior, a mercenary who had been betrayed and stripped of everything… a warrior marked with destiny.

  The fated warrior, a man of renown, possessed great potential in whatever he applied his hand to. But his was just another life shattered and broken by the kakos, like a potter’s vase crushed to grog. Nhoj had given him health, but he was brought lower than any thought possible by the trials; Rashnir became the scorn of even the lowest of slaves. Only then was he prepared to meet the final herald of Yahweh’s message.

  Yahweh’s wrath boiled over in the Earth re
alm as he prepared to pour out his vengeance upon the face of the Earth. But in the midst of the coming retribution, one man slipped through the passage to give witness to those men and women trapped within the realm—people who had never heard the Truth.

  Kevin Johnson, with his two bodyguards, the least ranking among Heaven’s angels, located the fallen Rashnir. Together, they launched a revolution.

  The demonic Gathering, led by the bitter demon beh’-tsah and his dark prophet Absinthium, rise against anything that threatens their power. But even as they plot to seize control of the entire realm and subjugate all its inhabitants, the demons scheme amongst themselves. For eons beh’-tsah’ planned to crown himself as the new Lucifer, but long-brewing coup within the ranks of the Gathering delay his dark machinations.

  As Yahweh’s faithful ones readied themselves to peacefully depart their home in the outlying lands of Grinden, Absinthium roused a war party against his adversaries. They would not be allowed to spread the antithetical message any further. The spread of the Spirit was the only thing the arch-mage had ever seen strike true fear into his master, the dread lord beh-tsah’. The small forces of Spirit-led warriors crushed the Luciferian forces arrayed against them at the quarry of Jand.

  The battle was proclaimed a Luciferian victory, a twisted piece of propaganda used to pull more coins into the Order’s coffers, though it cost the dark lord of the Gathering more than he had planned and more than he could afford. Claiming to have expelled the renegade threat from their region, the Luciferians continue rallying for more support and tighten their stranglehold on local governments. Broadening their forces and shifting their strengths, they are ever searching for Rashnir’s elusive group in order to extract further, deadly retribution.

  These second-generation followers of Yahweh understand the importance of their mission; unbelieved by the rest of the realm, only seven years remain according to the prophecy proclaimed by the mysterious travelers from Earth. After that time, the entire land will erupt in flame, destroying itself. The great conflagration will spread, intensifying until it reaches the great gate between the realms. Folding in on itself, it will become a great lake of fire; those left behind will suffer horribly, regardless of their allegiance to Yahweh, the Order, or pursuit of their own lusts.