Box of Runes An Epic Fantasy Collection

by J. Thorn

  “What weapons did Ahura provide to Traetaona for the battle with Azhi Dahaka?” asked the man, now intent on staying cognizant.

  The Sultan held up one finger before continuing.

  “As Azhi Dahaka’s minions brought sacrificial victims to the demon, Traetaona realized that the three-headed dragon could not be killed; only subdued. He devised a plan to neutralize the powerful force of evil.

  Traetaona approached Azhi Dahaka’s lair without his sword drawn or a weapon in hand. The weeping walls of the cave led him into the bowels of the mountain. Scenes of painted depravity covered the tunnel while vermin burrowed through piles of human remains. Traetaona witnessed oily torches in the distance. The tunnel dumped him into the beast’s cavern, at the foot of the heinous throne.

  ‘Surely you come to offer me your brains,’ said Azhi Dahaka as he saw Traetaona approach.

  ‘I wish to pose a challenge to you, three-headed sentry of the Kingdom of Ahriman.’

  Traetaona came with the divine knowledge of Ahura and was prepared to succeed or perish with it. Azhi Dahaka smiled a grin of fire at the visitor and decided to toy with his guest before smiting him.

  ‘Speak your challenge before I tire of the frivolity and consume your flesh.’

  Traetaona stepped forth and spoke.

  ‘I shall pose a riddle to each head. If they are solved I will surrender before you and offer mine. However, if they are not, you agree to be bound underneath the mountain where you will remain until the End Times, no longer free to hunt the followers of Ahura.’

  The demon grinned and cackled with the power of rumbling thunder.

  ‘I accept your challenge,’ Azhi Dahaka replied.

  Traetaona drew a deep breath, put his shoulders back, and posed the riddle to the first head of Azhi Dahaka.

  ‘What is that which travels without feet, head or hands?’

  The demonhead shuffled and a black tongue slithered over fanged teeth.

  ‘I will eat brains from your skull,’ said the beast. ‘The answer is water, wind, and a worm.’

  Azhi Dahaka’s minions bustled, crawled from the crevices, and surrounded Traetaona.

  ‘And now for the second,’ said Traetaona, aware that his hope for victory now diminished by one third. ‘It travels to the sky ahead of the eye but no one has ever seen it.’

  The second head of Azhi Dahaka let out a horrific cry that shook the cavern and raised a cloud of dust.

  ‘Sight,’ it mumbled, without elaboration.

  Traetaona put a hand to his brow and struggled to think above the chatter of the minor deva that now surrounded Azhi Dahaka in hopes of scavenging a piece of discarded flesh from the devouring.

  ‘What is that which from head to foot is all tongue?’

  The third head of the demon roared and its talons scratched the stone floor of the lair like the sharpening of knives before the slaughter.

  ‘You fool,’ spoke Azhi Dahaka. ‘You have lost the challenge. The answer is the serpent.’

  Traetaona stiffened and his hand grasped the hilt of his sword. He turned to face the three-headed dragon as it lowered its jaws to him.

  ‘Wrong,’ he said.

  Azhi Dahaka froze and the minions scurried from his impending wrath.

  ‘The answer is fire, the very substance ejected from your snout.’

  Azhi Dahaka let out such a deafening blast of despair that many of the lizards fell dead at his feet. The dragon thrashed and blew fire to the arched ceiling before facing the foe that had bested him with words.

  ‘I will devour you when I am released at the End Time.’

  Traetaona stepped forth and bound Azhi Dahaka to the wall. However, the dragon was yet to finish with the slayer. Azhi Dahaka pulled at the shackles, attempting an escape from his binds. To weaken the three-headed beast, Traetaona stabbed the demon in the chest. An avalanche of snakes and lizards poured from the wound and escaped into the world.

  Ahriman bellowed cries of rage when Traetaona stabbed Azhi Dahaka and shackled him to the underside of the mountain. Ahriman cursed his twin and challenged the Three Saviors to bring the End Time and release Azhi Dahaka for the final battle.”

  The man sat like a stone monument. His face twitched as he spoke with a low, gravelly voice.

  “Men anticipate the Saviors’ arrival. The Third brings three days of fire and molten metal, a cataclysmic shower of flame and ash. The dead shall rise and return to life where they must traverse the flames licking the bridge of Chinvat. The followers of Ahura will make the final journey and repopulate a cleansed world free of evil. The wicked will suffer the eternal pain of the purge.”

  The Sultan closed the Avesta and nodded to the man.

  “Many will perish.”

  “Many of the wicked.”

  The man sat up on his elbows and rubbed the night from his eyes. A hint of the sun’s glow appeared on the eastern horizon, the birth of the day just beyond the reach of the land.

  “Is this Ahura’s will?” the man asked.

  “Ahura is but one deity, not the creating force. His twin brother Ahriman will not submit willfully.”

  The man laid his head back and gazed at Polaris upon its celestial throne. His words came with a sarcastic bite.

  “You share this knowledge with me because I need it to survive the trek between the two kingdoms.”

  The visitor smiled and shook his head. He relit a leaf and exhaled over the coals pulsing on the molten sands.

  “The universe holds many of its secrets beyond our grasp. You choose to align with Ahura or Ahriman but seldom understand the design of their plans.”

  “What if I choose to side with the malevolent forces? Would you smite me in my roll?”

  The Sultan shrugged before answering.

  “Should you have aligned with Ahriman our encounter would have unfolded in a different fashion.”

  “Then I must come to the conclusion that you came to me with a purpose and that you have not fulfilled your obligation,” replied the man.

  “You would be correct, my brother. There is more you must know before the End Time is upon us. The release of Azhi Dahaka is imminent and the beast’s ultimate defeat is not guaranteed.”

  The Sultan folded his hands and stared at the man for many moments before speaking again.

  “You asked of the land beyond Chinvat.”

  The man straightened and glared at the visitor with baited breath.

  “You will now hear of my journey and of the circumstances that brought us together.”

  Air

  “I presided over the greatest kingdom on Earth. My lands stretched from the rising of the sun in the east to its setting in the west. I took wives from the most influential and powerful clans to ever live.

  In the twelfth year of my reign during a prosperous time, a visitor appeared. He arrived at the gates and begged to be brought to me. My sentries had been well trained and knew that admittance to the royal quarters did not happen simply because one asked for it. The man brought forth a gift, one that could not be forged or pried from the clutches of the Earth. He brought an omen.

  I had fallen into the trappings of the elite. I spared no expense on my lifestyle and became accustomed to living beyond the needs of men. That was why the omen did not immediately concern me.

  The guards could not decipher the visitor’s message so they made sure he was not a threat before bringing him to my court. The man was haggard and of an undetermined age. White streaks ran through his hair like lightning in a stormy sky and his beard grew long and straight like an elder’s should. He hunched over a cane with layered robes covering his frail body. The stench coming from him spoke of great distance through the desert. It was when he looked into my eyes that I realized his shell was just that and nothing more.

  ‘Your time draws near,’ he began without so much as a salutation or reverence.

  I chuckled and looked at my sentries with their gilded armor and sharpened blades.

  ‘Are you d
rawing it for me?’ I replied with a mocking question.

  The man shook his head and limped closer to my throne. Each step twisted his face into agony. I had to glance at the stone floor to make sure it had not been covered with razors.

  ‘Ahura needs you and that is not a matter of jest.’

  I motioned for the servant girls to bring the silken pillows and they helped guide the old man onto them. They wrinkled their noses and gagged as if they could taste the filth emanating from his robe.

  ‘Would you like smoke or drink, old man?’ I asked. ‘You may not have much time left to enjoy it.’

  The cruel joke brought smiles and snickers from my court but the visitor sat as still as stone.

  ‘Very well. We will not fake pleasantries or exchange salutations as custom might dictate. Speak your business before I depart for more important matters.’

  I do not remember when I surrendered my fate to the old man, but I do recall the look on his face. Whether he was Ahura or whether Ahura spoke through him I cannot determine.

  ‘Ahriman is about to release Azhi Dahaka. Once the shackles are cut from the dragon the final battle will begin. If the Three Saviors are not summoned Ahriman’s followers will subdue the corners of the world and plunge all into an age of calamity.’

  He stared into my eyes as if daring me to respond.

  ‘No earthly kingdom is a match for the demon, Azhi Dahaka. Why would you place an impossible task at my feet? Ahura’s warrior could do no better than shackling him underneath the mountain and yet you announce this as if I will best him.’

  ‘I have fulfilled my duty,’ the visitor replied. ‘The crucible sits at the foot of the throne.’

  After mumbling those final words, a thick, gray smoke curled up from the feet of the old man and filled the court so quickly that each of us in the chamber felt isolated from the rest of the world. When it cleared, nothing remained of the visitor and no one in the chamber remembered his presence but me.

  I lived the next few days trying to anesthetize myself with smoke, drink, and concubines. I indulged and yet I could not remove the thoughts from my mind. His final words rang through my head and threatened to split my skull.

  The crucible sits at the foot of the throne.

  My wives could not shake me from this obsession. My sons pleaded for an enemy, an army on which to release my madness.

  Finally, I knew what had to be done. I gathered meager rations, the Avesta, and a skin filled with water before bidding farewell to my kingdom. I could not answer the questions they asked me. I could not explain to my wives where I was going or when I might return. I could not promise my sons that I would retain the throne or that it would pass to them as it had for generations. I knew only that I must heed the words of the visitor.

  I can see from your face that you think me to be a foolish and narcissistic ruler. I consider that to be a fair observation. It was not until I was many days travel from my own kingdom that I realized how far I had drifted from a true life. It was there, in the wastes of the desert, days from last contact with another human and still days from the next, when the old man returned.

  I was sitting at a fire and smoking the last of my leaf when he shuffled into camp. He looked the same as he had that day in my court except his eyes were different. They looked welcoming, relieved, yet anxious.

  ‘Ahura had no doubts. He knew you would come.’

  I rubbed my eyes and chased the smoke of the campfire away with one arm.

  ‘You have been following me,’ I replied to the old man.

  He shook his head left to right before sitting in the sand next to me. The stench he had carried to my court accompanied him on this journey as well.

  ‘Ahriman is fiendishly plotting for the rescue of Azhi Dahaka. He is already sending minor devae from the mountain to form an alliance of hate.’

  I sat there and waited, sensing the old man had more to say before he expected me to speak.

  ‘He needs you.’

  I threw another piece of dry wood into the fire and took a swig of water from my skin.

  ‘First tell me how we have come face to face again,’ I said.

  ‘We do not have the luxury of time to—‘

  ‘Tell me,’ I interrupted.

  The old man heaved and looked skyward while mumbling under his breath.

  ‘I did my duty to Ahura and what I needed to do to prepare the righteous for the End Time. I know not of the particulars of which you ask.’

  I pressed forward.

  ‘My men found your body three days after your visit.’

  ‘Then I guess you already have the information you so desperately crave.’

  ‘Not everything. What is your role, old man? Why did Ahura send you to me? I rule on this plane, not his.’

  The old man motioned for a toke of my leaf and I obliged. He blew the smoke into the fire before speaking again.

  ‘Those that have chosen to follow Ahura get a reprieve before making the final voyage across the Chinvat. In order to broaden the bridge and to make the trip more comfortable, souls are drawn into service to prove their worthiness to Ahura. These are the once-living that pledged to fight for the light but did not always live up to that standard. The service provided to Ahura leads to the path of redemption and across the Chinvat.’

  If the visitor had spoken this in my court when I was surrounded by my advisors, I would have laughed him from that place. However, the words he spoke now carried the weight of the mountains.

  ‘So you are Ahura’s celestial messenger, recruiting other souls seeking redemption and safe passage across the Chinvat.’

  The old man nodded.

  I sat for a while in silence and the visitor gave me license to do so. I looked up at the stars and they reminded me of diamonds strewn atop the naked, glistening bodies of my wives. The hazy path of cosmic gods crawled across the western sky like the bountiful milk and honey of my dining hall.

  ‘My indulgence is my crucible,’ I said.

  The old man did not reply.

  ‘Tell me how to gain redemption. I do not want to be Azhi Dahaka’s sustenance.’

  Water

  Faint auras spread from the eastern horizon as the sun fought the line between night and day. The conversation pulled through the coldness of the dark and sought resolution with the new day. The Sultan maneuvered embers around the pit as the final remnants of heat came from it.

  “My eldest discovered my body.”

  The man cocked his head sideways, awaiting elaboration.

  “I know this because Ahura gives one flight, albeit a temporary gift on this plane. I was able to soar over my kingdom like a bird of prey and could see with the eye of the eagle. They gave me the full funerary rights of a Sultan. The court spent days filling my burial chamber with earthly goods meant to comfort me in the great beyond. On the day of the ritual my wives and personal servants marched into the crypt. The masons sealed the stone, my earthly form, and all of my possessions, those living and inanimate.”

  The man’s arm creaked as he moved it across his lap, the first movement he made in a long while.

  “What happened to the old man, the one that returned to your fire? Was he Ahura? Did he saddle you with an oath?”

  The Sultan ignored the questions and continued with the recollection as much for the man as for himself.

  “I listened to my sons speak of my passing. It did not bring me comfort. They discussed my dominions and how they would be parceled accordingly. Some recalled my excesses in smoke and women while others told stories of glorious battles won against foes of rival kingdoms. None spoke of compassion, kindness, understanding, or beneficent rule. My legacy was one of selfish indulgence and personal gain. It was at that moment that I realized my redemption would rest with the deeds done beyond my mortal urn. Finding other messengers to help summon the Three Saviors would help me cross the Chinvat and ensure victory for Ahura.”

  A whispering wind floated up from the desert and began to tos
s the flame violently.

  “My visit draws to a close.”

  “But I have more questions,” replied the man.

  “I cannot answer them.”

  The man stood as if to stop the rising sandstorm from claiming the Sultan.

  “What of my redemption?” asked the man.

  The wind swirled around the Sultan, masking his form in a hazy cloud. He lifted both arms and turned his head skyward.

  “You must choose. Ahriman plots the release of the demon from underneath the mountain. The Three Saviors need to be summoned in order for the righteous to survive the End Time.”

  Before the man could reply the Sultan’s form dissolved into smoke and the wind whisked it away. The air settled, dropping dust back to the floor of the desert and enveloping the land with silence, yet again.

  He felt a warm glow originate in his chest. The man held his hand out and turned it back and forth.

  The eye of the mountain opened as Azhi Dahaka awoke in shackles. The beast bellowed and cursed while pulling at the iron bound over its talons. The jaws snapped at each other in a desperate attempt to feed. The man turned away from the mountain, stopping the vision from scarring his mind.

  He noticed that his lips no longer burned from the dry cracks split by the desert. The blisters on his feet dried and healed. The hunger pangs dissolved. The man turned to face the spot where the Sultan had stood moments earlier. He saw an object wedged under a rock. The man bent down and brushed sand from it until he gazed upon the leather-clad book the Sultan held, the Avesta. He wrapped it in the cleanest linen he could find. A sack full of leaf and a skin renewed with fresh water sat next to his dead camel.

  The sun blazed upward in a motion ten times faster than its natural pace. Clouds sped by as if pulled by Ahura’s hand. The man’s shadow spun and circled until it reappeared on the other side, preparing to hide during the night. The orb transformed from searing white, to a golden burn, and then into a fuzzy bulb of flaming orange. It dropped behind the western horizon until the last vestiges of its rays retreated from the advance of nightfall.