The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Arn had never known such freedom, below him raced the green carpet of the endless forests of Caltarine and it seemed to him that all his troubles were left far behind. At that moment nothing seemed to matter and the weight of his Kingship fell from his shoulders like summer rain.

  If only Andra were here beside me he thought, together we are strong, but he knew that she was safe in their tent and that she now had a child to care for. Would we ever be Moric-Kan again?

  Ishea also felt the freedom of the sky and feeling the wind on her face she wished that she could fly to the far end of her world and cross the Western Sea.

  The Western Sea, how many times had she dreamed of sailing on that endless ocean and hunt the great Leviathans that lived in the black depths of that unsounded sea. But she knew that another held the heart of her lover and she would never feel the salt air on her cheek.

  Valen did not think of freedom for he only wished to meet his enemy once more and see it destroyed, I made a vow and I shall not break it, he told himself, and there was nothing stronger then the vow of an Outlander. He would see it fulfilled or die there was no other choice.

  They flew for some time and soon the dense forest of Caltarine became the emerald jungle of Yug. Soon they crossed a valley called Deaths Eye, for it was a place where nothing grew and only barren stone and caked earth welcomed the traveler. It was also the home of the Eurdor-Can, Mother of Voices and though Arn tired he could not see the creature that spoke with the Great Voice for a mist covered the land and hid the protector of the Norgonie from his eyes.

  They continued flying southward and below them were only a dense blanket of green, then Arn saw a trail being cut through the thick vegetation as if a giant Blaze-ant were cutting the grass of the Sirolian Plains. And knowing the thoughts of their Leader the Honnagar forced the Screechers downward towards the ground.

  “Scanners had detected animal and human life forms approaching at a high angle.” reported the Task robot.

  The half-human did not reply and reached out with his mind and interfaced with the detection systems that protected the great machine from approaching enemies. To the metal man it was almost like flying but he felt no joy in the concept as he felt a presence in the air. But when he came in contact with the humans that were now moving downwards he suddenly felt something very strange, a feeling that he hand not known sense his childhood.

  It would be very hard to put into words the sensations that the former Shadowman was now undergoing but it would not be a lie to say that it felt like he was touching at part of him that had long sense died.

  High overhead the three giant Screechers began their drop from the sky, with their great wings outstretched they let the air soften their descent.

  And as they did the pain began.

  As before when he had come to close to the Iron God, Valen felt the burning deep inside his mind and he fought against the urge to cry out. He held tight to the belt of the huge warrior in front of him and tried not to drop the war-ax in his hand.

  Ishea could not understand what was happening to her; it felt like a fiery nail had been driven deep into her brain. She almost let go of the Kagar that she grasped firmly in her right hand but her left hand could not hold onto the Honnargar before her, she began slipping from the scaly back of the Screecher but at the last moment she found the strength to save herself. But she could not hold back a scream that tore from her lips.

  Arn also felt pain but with the burning a sudden image flashed before his mind, he was sitting in a strange chamber surrounded by metal creatures and a giant Orb that pulsed with a blue glow.

  The Darkman was flying, he was no longer a thing of metal and circuitry but a man once more and he was looking down on a monster made of steel.

  What has happened? He asked himself, what has done this to me?

  And then the image vanished and he was a thing without feelings once more. His body quickly returned to his control and he moved through himself checking to see if his interconnections were working correctly and that his organic systems were still functioning. All this took only an instant or two and in a moment he was satisfied that he had not been damaged by the strange occurrence.

  I am a God once more, he reassured himself. But he did not reach out again with his mind for he did not want to know what had taken power from him.

  The three great flying beasts were now very close to the iron creature for the power that was torturing the humans had no effect on them and neither did it bring pain to the Honnargar. The Giants of the Earth were not like the other humans; they felt no discomfort and could have continued their flight near the great machine. But they knew that the leader was in danger and so they guided their mounts skyward once more and soon the pain subsided.

  The King and his companions turned away from the monster below and headed back to the fortress of the Norgonie. There they would tell what they had seen and if any warrior dared say that they spoke an untruth they would have been challenged to a fight and it would not have ended until the ground was soaked with blood.

  Chapter 44.

  The Fires of Doom.

  In the beginning the universe was cold and without warmth, and Isarie sat beneath the stars and looked up at them and smiled.

  And seeing that they were beautiful her heart filled with joy and she stood up and began to dance, around and around she danced and lifted her arms to the night sky and let her feet move over the empty land.

  And her dance was so great that her toes began to burn and fire became her song.

  And now when you look into the flames you will see her dancing there.

  Ancient Nomad story.

  The Ironworkers of the Almadra and the Norgonie labored as they had never done before for a powerful enemy was coming and they knew that all weapons must be strong. The Itarian steel that had been gathered from the Outlands were fashioned into armor, ax and spear, they beat the metal into helmets and breastplates and daggers. They made thick plating for the Whiptails and Rowgors for the great beasts would carry the warriors to battle and they would fight alongside their riders.

  The fortress too was made ready for there they would make the last stand if necessary, the long-range cannons of the Nomads were removed from the Spikebacks and placed high up on the walls and there they would spew death and shake the air with their voices. The Disrupters were also placed on the walls but they did not know if they would have any effect on the metal God that was drawing near.

  The Holy Mother was protected by her loyal Thungodra and the dark armored warriors vowed that they would die to the last rather than see harm come to their Mistress, so they circled the Moving Shrine and challenged anyone who was foolish enough to come near.

  On the uppermost level of the great wagon could be seen chanting Handmaidens, they had painted themselves red and held brazier’s of burning incense and as they lifted them up and down they called out for Isarie to save them and protect the chosen of the Gods.

  But Egmar did not show her face for it was said the she was deep in prayer and seeking wisdom from the Holy Book.

  The High Priest of the Norgonie also made himself ready for his temple was sealed up and no one was allowed inside. Chanting and prayers could be heard emanating from the great pyramid but no one saw the servant of Arm-Ra for they said that he was communing with the great God and could not be disturbed.

  The Elders and children of both tribes were taken to safety for deep in the forest there grew great trees whose hardened roots could guard them from harm; never the less they sent strong warriors to keep them safe from the fierce creatures of the deep woods. Food was plentiful but the water that flowed from the great pump turned foul and bitter to the taste and soon that stopped altogether. And along with the bitter water a noxious gas began to rise from the ground and many said that it was an evil omen and that the Pit of Marloon would soon rise up and the fires of doom engulf them all.

  In the Kings tent there was also much talking but it was not about the air or the c
oming metal monster, it was about the strange child that the Off-world girl held in her arms.

  “She is not one of us,” Arn said as he looked into the blue eyes of the infant.

  “She is my child and I will care for her” replied Andra.

  The Nomad King and the Off-World girl that were known in the Outlands as Moric-Kan, the Twin Dragons were alone in the great tent for the Arn had dismissed the Touchtenders so that his words could be spoken plainly. Outside could be heard the sound of men and women gathering up their weapons and preparing themselves for war. And mixed with those sounds were the cries of Whiptails and the roaring of Spikbacks for they somehow knew that soon they would smell blood in the air and hear the screams of the dying.

  And being a Nomad the King could feel the killing rage beginning to rise up inside him and he fought back the urge that would soon take hold of him.

  “War is coming” he said softly, “will you stand by my side?”

  Not that long ago Andra had made a promise to her mate, that she would stand by his side through this world and all the worlds to come. But she was a mother now and her heart was torn between her love for Arn and the love of a mother for her child.

  Can I live in two worlds? She asked herself, and she looked down at the face of the tiny girl in her arms, can I leave her to stand with the man I love?

  For a long time now the minds of the two had been linked, what one felt the other knew and now as he watched his mate holding the strange child he understood that he should not have asked the she choose between to loves.

  “I am a King” he said, “but sometimes I act the fool” and then he turned and walked away from the woman who had fought by his side so many times.

  Andra watched him go and when she was alone she felt a great loss deep inside her heart, “I made a promise that I can’t keep,” she said out loud. Why she did this she did not know but when she looked back into the deep eyes of her child she seemed to hear a voice calling out to her.

  “You will keep your promise,” it said.

  And hearing those strange words her heart did not ache so much.

  To the South of the fortress a monster moved bringing only death and destruction for no creature great or small could defeat the power of the metal God.

  Forest Lopers, Sagar cats and wild Rowgors all ran when the huge machine drew near and when the great trees fell before the oncoming terror the Nightcriers and Dawncallers rose up in the sky and flew away filling the air with their fearful songs.

  It moved Northward following the course that would take it to the home of the Forest-dwellers and there it would kill everyone who dared to challenge it and the all-powerful God that lived within it.

  “Maintaining heading at maximum speed” the Taskrobot reported, “repairs have been completed and all stationary and mobile weapons at the ready”.

  At first the Half-man did not reply for he was looking at his metal hands that were now covered in blood. At his feet lay what remained of Neelu the Norgonie girl, but if any of the Forest-dwellers had seen her now they would not have recognized her. What was left of her body was now a twisted and lifeless mass of flesh and steel for the creature that created her had also destroyed her. Why he did this we cannot say but there is an old Nomad wisdom that might have an answer to this question.

  “All Gods are jealous Gods”.

  And seeing that he now had a rival for his power the Shadowman/God did not wish to share. So he took the cold girl into his arms and crushed all life from her, then with his iron fingers he picked at the flesh like a fisherman of the Western Sea picks at a fish on his plate. And when he had indulged all his curiosity he stopped.

  “Continue on heading and scan for additional mobile weapons” the Metal God commanded as he cast away the remains of the human female like so much useless trash.

  “Understood” replied the Taskrobot.

  When the Cybernetic mechanism had been human he sometimes longed to hold a woman in his arms but his hatred of all living things did not allow such weakness into his life. So he remained a man who had no memories of warm nights lying in soft arms. And now that he was a God such things seemed so long ago.

  What can be gained by such things? He thought, what is this thing that some call love?

  His mind now held vast quantities of knowledge; he knew all the attack scenarios of the many different battle fleets that he had once faced. He understood the complex equations of navigating through the corridors of the Outer Rim and he could easily name all the stars of that quadrant but for all his wisdom he could not understand the one thing that drives all humans.

  Love.

  And so the great machine rumbled onward and as it did it gathered up other Galu and took them into itself and there they were converted into strong weapons that could fight whatever enemy their master commanded. They would do so without pain or weakness, without mercy or fear for their God moved through them and they would never stop.

  Love had once been the most important thing to Egmar but now her heart had forgotten that feeling and only a cold wind blew there.

  My one true son is coming, she told herself, he is a great God now and I must sacrifice to him.

  She looked about the large chamber that was now filled with her Handmaidens for she had summoned them before her and they had obeyed, all about her were the sacred statures of the Nomads Gods, some great and some small but all deities that demanded offerings. And being the servants of Isarie and her Chosen people the Almadra had obeyed this rule and placed bowls filled with sweet smelling field flowers and ripe fruit at the feet of the Gods. They hung necklaces of Gold and Silver, Sagar teeth and Rimar horn and rare jewels around the neck of the statures and dressed them in the finest of weavings. At other times they ritually slew Burrow babies and even Trofar to satisfy the laws of worship. They even burned the precious Grana mixed with incense and chanted as the smoke rose into the sky; they did all this without question for the Holy Mother told them to. And now they waited for her commands once more.

  Egmar sat on a golden chair inlayed with ivory and silver, the chair was rarely used for it could only be sat on at certain times of the year. But the Handmaidens knew that the Holy Mother no longer followed the teachings in the Book of Isarie and that all things were possible. Now they watched at the Holy Mother rose up and spoke to them.

  “It is written in the book of Isarie that we shall sacrifice to the Gods,” she said coldly, “now a new God is coming and we shall do the same for him”. She looked into the faces of her servants, “but we will not offer simple burrow babies or even Grana, No, for this God demands more, ...we shall make an offering of flesh!”

  Hearing that the Holy Mother would be giving a human life to the new God caused a great murmuring of the Handmaidens for that practice had not been carried out sense ancient times, so now an older servant of Isarie called out to her Mistress.

  “We cannot give an offering of human flesh,” she said. “It is forbidden by the Goddess.”

  And saying this there was a nodding of heads for everyone knew that it was true, but Egmar also knew this law and was prepared for opposition.

  “It is true that we cannot offer human flesh, but there is one among us who is not of the Chosen and not human”.

  Again there was a murmuring as the Handmaidens looked at one another trying to understand the strange words of the Holy Mother, then at last Egmar spoke again.

  “There is a child in the tent of the King who skin is white and whose eyes are those of a demon, she was not born from a mother of the Almadra but from the Pit of Marloon!”

  And knowing that there was indeed a strange child being tended for by a female that had fallen from the sky the Handmaidens understood what was being asked of them.

  “We shall take the demon child and give it to the new God” the Holy Mother continued, “and he will spare our people and the Goddess will be content”.

  The chamber filled with whispers of approval and Egmar turned to look at her dark compa
nion who was sitting on the arm of her golden chair. She could see its red eyes glowing with a cold fire and her ears listened to the rattling of its dripping jaws.

  Vitranius was far from content as he stood near the bed of his Calaxion brother.

  For many days and nights now he had waited for Osh to awake from his sleep but all efforts had proved futile. Ormandis the High Priest of the Norgonie had immense power, at a whim he could have warriors slain or maidens brought to his bed, he could proclaim an offering of blood to Arm-Ra or a day of feasting, and to the Forest-dwellers he was a God on earth. But the Calaxion Vitanius was still just a man and although he still had great power he could not have his wish fulfilled. He had tried everything he could, he even forced Grana mixed with Po down the throat of the old man but still he continued in his coma. And adding to his anger was the fact that his plans for conquering all of Gorn and then all the Outer Rim was quickly slipping through his thin fingers.

  “I will not have my destiny altered by a weakling!” he shouted and he bent down and struck out with his claw like hand striking the wrinkled jaw of his tormentor. And seeing that he was acting a fool he composed himself and moved away from the bed.

  The cell was empty except for Osh for the monks were busy preparing for the conflict ahead and all the Norgonie warriors were needed at the fortress walls. So there was no one to hear the words of the High Priest.

  “I will not be defeated!” he shouted.

  All around him was knowledge, the wisdom of the Overlords lay in the writings before him, enough power to rule an empire of the stars and below his feet laid a machine that could make him the most powerful creature on the planet, if only he could unlock its secrets. He looked down at the medallion hanging around his neck, the key that might lay the universe before his feet, but as he looked at it he suddenly felt a rage rising up inside him.

  “What good is knowing if I cannot rule!” and saying this he tore the trinket from his body and threw it on the floor. And not saying another word he walked from the room leaving only the slumbering old man to his dreams.