The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  “I have no power, I am only one but one can become many if a hand is offered, I was once free and will fight to be free again, you have never been free but if you stand together you may know what freedom means”. And as he spoke he knew that many of them would not be able to understand his words so he looked over at the female at his side and took up her hand in his. “Many of you have suffered at the hands of the Norgonie,” he said softly to the female at his side. But still he knew that his words were falling on deaf ears, so he thought for a moment.

  They do not understand, I will have to speak in words that will fill them, he stood tall and began to speak once more, “there is food above!” and he pointed with his clawed finger, “all the food you want!’ And hearing something that they understood clearly the Sandjar began to growl in their throats. “When I command we will feast on the flesh of the pain givers!” and now the Scavengers began to roar and scream in rage. “When I call for you to stand with me your feast will come!”

  And hearing those words Mog beat his large fists upon the ground and then picked up his friend and held him high above his head, “Coraw!” he shouted out.

  And once more the people of the darkness repeated the name over and over again filling the chamber with hope.

  Down the long tunnels the shouts were heard by the Norgonie watchmen but they only laughed and shook their heads for they knew it was only the crying of slaves and no more dangerous than the sting of a Dot-fly.

  The noonday sky above the great fortress was dark and filled with foreboding, boiling clouds shot with lightning bolts tumbled across the heavens and for many it was a sure sign that the Gods were not content. The Forest-dwellers and the Outlanders could see black smoke rising from the direction of the Forbidden City and both tribes said it was an evil omen of things to come. The Elders said that it was a sign from the Gods and that the ritual of death should be postponed until this dark prophecy could be understood. But the warriors of the Norgonie said that the smoke was a call for blood by Arm-Ra and that any delay was just trickery on the side of the Nomads. And to this the Outlanders replied that no Forest-dwellers could be trusted and they shouted that Isarie would protect them.

  So once more the two tribes sharpened their weapons and watched each other’s movements closely and this did not go unnoticed by Egmar as she stood looking out over her people from the high platform of the moving shrine.

  She listened to the rumbling sky and saw the dark clouds and the smoke in the distance but it did not frighten her as it once would have for now she no longer cared what might happen to those she once loved. She wore a black robe trimmed in gold and silver and on her head sat a tall headdress made from the bones of sacrificial animals. It was only worn during rituals of death and all that looked at it understood that someone was about to die. The High Priestess held an ivory staff in her left hand that had a human skull attached to one end; this skull was ancient and once belonged to the very first Holy Mother and a reminder that one day all life would end. It had mystic symbols covering its whitened surface and two large rubies were fastened in the places where eyes once were. Around the throat of the old woman was a necklace also made of bones and gold and connected to that was a large medallion of silver with the face of the Angel of Death upon it.

  What fool they all are, the Holy Mother thought as she looked down at her people and the Forest-dwellers, soon all their cares will vanish in fire and they will know that the one true God has come. And then a smile covered her face and she looked down at her staff and the large black demon that sat upon the ancient skull.

  “Soon” the creature said, “soon he will come and all will die”.

  “Yes death is coming” Egmar replied, but it was not an idle boast that she made for unknown to anyone she had placed a small but sharp dagger beneath her robe and with this weapon she would end the life of the High Priest of Arm-Ra.

  Her plan was to wait till her son was dead and the alter of the false God stained with his blood, then before anyone could react she would plunge the dagger into the heart of Ormandis and watch him die. Then she would say that he had betrayed the Gods and it was his fault that their Queen was dead, and if any did not heed her words she would call for war and let both sides kill the other, what did it matter? When her true son arrived all would perish anyway.

  “Death is coming” she said again, and hearing her words the servants of Isarie nodded their heads for they knew that the blind Prince was to be sacrificed and that their Holy Mother was speaking only the truth.

  The Handmaidens wore thin robes of black cloth, their faces were stained red with the juice of Safic berries and their long hair was braided with bone and golden beads. Several of them held silver brassieres in their slim hands from whence fragrant smoke bellowed and filled the air with the sent of Death Shadow flowers. The wavering mist would calm the hearts of those who came within its reach and the past would become a dim memory for a time. It would ease the pain of those who were close to Anais and the servants of the Goddess hoped that it would do so for Egmar. But they did not know that she had long ago driven out any feelings for her youngest son and that she would watch his heart being cut from his body with no more regret then a warrior stepping on a Blaze-ant.

  The Holy Mother looked over at the temple of Arm-Ra and saw its golden pinnacle and the sacrificial fire that now burned there. She listened to the sound of the silver gong that began calling the faithful to the temple and they’re to witness the power of their deity.

  Let them believe in their false God she thought, let them pray if they like, soon they will understand, then she turned and with her Handmaidens behind her she started for the temple and the ritual of death.

  Vitranius had prepared himself for what was to come, but only he knew that more would die this day then just the unlucky Prince of the Outlanders, he had spent the morning preparing the Holy Monks of Arm-Ra and speaking with the commanders of the warriors. He told them that the Gods had spoken with him and that they demanded not only the death of the Nomad Prince but the death of the Holy Mother as well for she was a witch of the Outlands. And the face of Egmar was just a spell mask to hide her true features for unknown to the Holy Mother the Callaxion had one of his servants pose as a Sin-Craver and enter her chamber so that he could watch and listen then report back to the High Priest. And the monk told him of the depravities and unclean activities of the Holy Mother and he would now use that to blacken her name and drive her from power.

  Now he looked at himself in the large reflecting plate in his chamber and smiled at what he saw. He did not see the image of a gaunt and wrinkled old man who had seen the best part of his long life already lived. He did not see the dark eyes that no longer held any caring for others or a spark of mercy for those weaker than he. As he looked at the tall figure clothed in rich finery and wearing a medallion that could unlock the secrets of the universe he saw a man who had just begun his destiny.

  If he had truly believed in Arm-Ra he would have prayed to him and given thanks for the power that was his and the power that was yet to come, but he did not and his only thoughts were of himself.

  It will all soon be mine he thought and mine alone, his thin lips curled up in a slight smile as he turned to face his shaven headed servants, “it is time,” he said. And hearing their High Priest words the long line of obedient monks began to walk to the stone stairway that would take them to the upper most level of the temple and there they would serve their master and Arm-Ra the greatest of all Gods.

  Osh would not be aware of what was about to happen for he still floated in that space between life and death. He lay unmoving in his chamber attended to by only one servant of Arm-Ra in case he should awake from his slumber. High above sounded the silver gong that would call both the Norgonie and the Almadra to the great temple but the old man did not hear the sacred chiming, his world was one of moving shapes and landscapes filled with visions.

  The Callaxion stood surrounded by lush vegetation and mighty trees, the so
und of animals and birds were everywhere and the air smelled sweetly of blooming flowers, before him stood a great statue of stone. It rose high above his head and unlike the others that dotted the lands of Gorn this one seemed to have been freshly carved and unmarked by time. It was made in the likeness of a God-man, his strong body was covered in thick armor and a tall helmet covered his head, in one hand he held a thunderbolt and in the other the head of a slain enemy. As Osh gazed at the statue his eyes moved down to its base and there he saw an inscription carved in stone.

  “Atos” he heard himself say, “This statue is Atos the Outlander God of war”, and then he remembered that he had seen this figure before. “Korath Enargo, the path of pain”, it was true, it was the very same statue but unworn by weather and the passing of ages.

  Somehow I had been transported back in time? He thought.

  But he knew that time travel was not possible by any knowledge of the Outer Rim. Then he looked closer at the base he saw more inscriptions and markings, cryptic symbols that he could now easily read. And like all his kind his mind immediately recorded the information and it would never be forgotten.

  Then he heard a voice calling to him.

  “You are Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion are you not?”

  And looking over he saw a woman dressed in a simple green robe and smiling at him, she was his advanced age and had no nails on her long fingers, her head was large for her body with a import hole on one side. Her face was kind with bright eyes and anyone looking at her would have said she was a Callaxion, but females of that species would never be allowed to interface withouter Rim computers so the old man was puzzled?

  “You ask me my name but I must have yours first” he said forgetting that he was in a dream and thinking that the woman before him was real.

  The older woman slowly moved towards him and spoke, “I have no name for there were none before me” she spoke quietly, “but you know me for we have spoken before”.

  For a moment Osh did not understand what she was saying then a memory and that lyrical voice came flooding back into his mind, “it is you” he said, “the Guardian in my dreams”.

  And to these words the old woman smiled again, “yes it is I” she replied.

  “But how can this be?” he asked, “I can see you now, but I know that you are not real”.

  “You are seeing only what your mind can see” she said softly, “there is none that can see all of me”. The phantom moved closer to the human and touched his face with her hand, “You are a good man Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion you have a caring heart and a strong mind”. And when she touched his face he suddenly saw all his past life in fragments of images that ran past his inner eye in a flash of memory, he saw his birth in the womb-chambers on Callaxia, his youth in the mind training schools, his long years as a programmer. His banishment and his meeting with Andra and the Nomads, he saw it all and when it was done it left the old man weak. But still he remained a Callaxion.

  “Who are you, what is your chemical and biological construction?” he asked ready to Mind-Lock the information for further studies later. But the woman only laughed at this.

  “You would not know me” she said, and suddenly her aged face turned to a young one, “I was once a simple thing but now I am more than can be understood, but I live in all things of this world”. And then her young face took on the features of the many different animals of Gorn, in an instant the Old man saw all the creatures great and small that lived and died on her world. Rimar, Trofar, Doff-birds, Shellbacks all the Thundra beasts of the Outlands. Then the lifeforms that dwell in the sea, Leviathans, Floaters, and things to strange to have names, even the mighty Earthshakers passed before his eyes, and still there was more, Rowgors, Sagars, Daggermouths. The great and the small, they were all there, all the living that made their home on this world, they all dwelled in the creature before him. And when he once more looked upon the face of the woman he understood that he could never understand.

  She is beyond my mind, he thought, but he knew that this power would not speak to him without a purpose, “what do you want from me?” he asked.

  The face of all things began to grow and grow until it filled his entire mind, and with that image came a voice that echoed through eternity.

  “When the time comes you will know what you will know” it said.

  And when the face began to vanish the old man cried out, “and what will I do with this knowledge?”

  And then came the answer, “you will save my world”.

  The people of both tribes heeded the words of the speakers of the Gods and prepared themselves for the ritual of death; the Outland warriors cleaned their armor and sharpened their weapons. They had spent the morning in prayer and singing the ancient death songs and telling tales of past glories and although many of them remembered the evils that the young Prince had done in the past they did not speak of them. They only said that Anais was a Prince of the bloodline and that his death should not come at the hands of the Norgonie. Some of them even spoke of rising up against the Forest-dwellers and attacking them at the ritual. But when Kuno heard of their plans he quickly came forward and told them that it would blacken the name of the Almadra and that the young Prince had chosen his own path and it was not their right to change it. So they cooled their anger and vowed that they would not raise their weapons.

  The Nogonie warriors also grumbled for they wanted more than one death for the life of their Queen and her warrior son. But they dare not go against the word of their High Priest and so they painted their bodies and wore all their best finery but still many of them said that revenge should be taken.

  The Thungodra also made themselves ready, they knew that they were in the stronghold of the Norgonie and that danger lay behind every corner so they slept with one eye open and watching for any sign that their Holy Mother might come to harmed. They put on their best armor and they polished the dark metal so that they resembled the poisonous sand beetle of the Outland dunes. They had also prayed to Isaire for strength and they all had filled their mouths with large quantities of Grana knowing that the gift of the Goddess would aid them if they were attacked.

  But it was not certain if the Gods would be able to hear the prayers of the Forest-dwellers or the Outlanders for storm clouds filled the sky and the sound of thunder echoed over the land of Caltarine.

  The Nomads and the Norgonie gathered at the base of the great temple as they had done before, on one side the Forest-dwellers stood watching the Outlanders who in turn watched them. Both sides were uneasy and it would take only a small insult from either of them to break the uneasy peace and cover the ground in blood. But as they stood gripping their weapons tightly the air filled once again with the sound of the silver gong and the ritual began.

  The Holy Mother of the Almadra sat on her ornate litter held high by a dozen strong warriors, she was surrounded by Handmaidens and her loyal Thungodra, and it would have meant death to any who might approach her. As the ritual drums of the Outlanders beat out a tempo the Holy Mother began moving towards the gigantic pyramid, the Nomads watched her passing and bowed their heads in a sign of respect and many of the Elders whispered prayers to Isarie to keep their Holy Mother safe.

  But there were also prayers from the Norgonie that Arm-Ra should strike her and send down a demon to from the sky to take her soul and show all the unbeliever’s that there was only one true God.

  Egmar heard the blessings of her tribe and also the curses of the Forest-dwellers but she only smiled to herself.

  They will all soon know what a true God is, she thought, soon HE will come, soon Rahash will stand before them. And she looked down at her lap and the dark spider that sat there and heard its words in her mind.

  “Yes he will come” spoke the dark demon in a voice that only Egmar could hear, “he is not far now, he will come and all will die!”

  The Holy Mother held her head high as she was carried to the base of the temple and then the litter was lowered. And after waiti
ng for her Handmaidens to gather around her she began walking up the long steps to the altar stone that would soon be stained with her son’s blood.

  From high atop the pyramid the High Priest of the Norgonie emerged into the day and with him were his many shaven headed monks, the young men stood naked, their strong bodies stained dark red while their faces were painted white in the markings of a death skull. Many of them carried braziers of sweet smelling incense while others held sacred statures and icons of their faith.

  Again and again thunder broke the air and lightning flashed across the sky, soon rain would fall but it would not stop the Angel of Death from coming down from the sky and taking the soul of the Nomad Prince to the Afterlife.

  The Old priest watched Egmar slowly climbing up the stone steps, that is right old woman, he thought to himself, come to me, come and meet your fate. It was his plan to sacrifice the young Prince and watch his blood flow over the sacred stone, then with the blade still fresh with death he would plunge it into the heart of the Holy Mother and proclaim that it was the will of the Gods. He was sure there would be a great uprising from the Nomads but he was confident that when he told them of the depravities that the servant of Isarie had been indulging in they would cool their anger and war could be avoided. And if they refused to listen he was also confident that the Norgonie could overcome them, there would be much death of course but what are the lives of a few Nomads when it comes to the power that would be his.

  And as visions of himself as the Lord of all Gorn filled his mind the sacred gong sounded again and Egmar and her Handmaidens stood before him.

  “You are welcome at the temple of Arm-Ra,” he said to his rival. Yes, welcome and wait, for death is coming for you.

  To this the Holy Mother nodded her head, “thank you, it is a good day and the Gods will be watching” she replied. They will watch you die!

  Vitranius smiled to himself as he looked out over the mass of Outlanders and Norgonie, they worship smoke and dreams he thought, soon they will worship me! He slowly moved to the bloodstained altar and stood before it waiting for the sound of the gong to fade, and when the air was quite once more he spoke out in a loud voice.