by Garon Whited
Again, his wound regenerated. It regenerated like I do, provided I’m submerged in a bathtub full of blood.
He didn’t press me when I withdrew. Instead, he merely held his ground, watching me while his leg repaired itself. It occurred to me we were still learning about each other. I guess he didn’t want to risk closing with me in any less than perfect shape. I understood the feeling.
“You know you cannot win,” he said.
“I haven’t lost,” I pointed out, and charged him. He braced behind his shield and prepared to smite me with his mace. I closed and he struck down, hammering my shield. I let the blow drive me to the ground at his feet while Firebrand sliced sideways in a high arc, bouncing off his raised shield. Then I rammed the edge of my shield down on his forward foot.
As I felt the bones in his foot break, he howled in pain, louder than anything I’d yet heard from him. He staggered backward, mace flailing wildly to keep me back, and fell to one knee when his foot couldn’t take his weight.
I sprang toward him, hacking. I pressed him hard, not wanting him to stand. He hid behind his shield while Firebrand took deep, savage bites out of the edge.
He struck, not at me, but at Firebrand. The mace made Firebrand chime like a bell; I heard Firebrand’s surprised wail of pain. It broke my concentration and the mace thrust forward, past the edge of my shield, striking me in the chest like a punch.
Yeah, he’s strong, all right. I felt the thud from head to toe and sailed backward, skidding down the length of the road. Bits of my cracked breastplate fell away as my freshly-healed ribs broke. I extended tendrils everywhere, grabbing the ground, slowing myself before rolling to my feet.
You okay? I asked Firebrand.
Mostly. That hit felt like a fracture.
Can you take another one?
I’m already melting the fissures. I’ll be fine, Boss. I’d really rather not do it again, though. If he hits me just a little harder, I’m not sure it’ll be fractures!
No promises.
We faced each other across the distance. He rose to his feet, glowing angrily. I let him while my ribs slid back into position.
“You’re stronger than you look,” I told him.
“In this world, I am a god.”
“A god who devours his followers? I didn’t know we had so much in common.”
“We have nothing in common, creature of the void!”
“Did I not see you sucking up the life force of everything in range to empower your physical avatar form?”
“You fool. Death and destruction are necessary to change the pattern of the world and bring order to all creation!”
“Tell it to the dead,” I sneered. “Oh, wait—that’s beyond your power, isn’t it? Some god you are, Mister Energy-State Being from another plane of existence.”
“You dare to address me so? I, who shone brightest in all the heavens?”
“Of course I dare. You’re just another would-be deity, slumming it down on the mortal plane and pretending to be more than you are.”
Screaming, the avatar charged again, shield in front, mace held high. I braced for contact as he bashed his shield into mine. Despite my spells, I skidded backward at the impact, but I kept my feet. He struck at me over our shields, trying to crush my head in, but I blocked with Firebrand, met the haft of the mace with Firebrand’s edge, and heard Firebrand grunt at the contact. We failed to sever the haft; I guess imbuing your weapon with divine power has some advantages. Note for the future.
Time to deploy my secret weapon.
Locked together this way, he pushed me back. I couldn’t allow this to keep going; I would hit something and go tumbling. I reached into the dead stone with my tendrils, used them as extensions of my feet, seized the ground, and locked myself in place.
We came to a sudden halt, the unstoppable force and the immovable object. I wasn’t sure I could hold him for long. He was strong, stronger than anything I’d ever fought before, and I could feel the strain in every muscle to resist him.
We locked together, shield to shield, glaring at each other as we pushed. We were close enough and he’d already destroyed my faceplate, so I stuck my tongue out at him, aiming for one of his eyes. I scored a bloody line across his forehead as he ducked, but I saw a look of surprise and horror on his face. It made my evening.
Head down, shield up, he swung his mace in a wide arc, whipping it around the side, crunching into my shield-arm. The arm broke, but I leaned into the inner curve of my shield, ducking my head, pressing it with shoulder, chest, and cheek.
Firebrand slid around the edges of our shields, swept underneath, and fired off a dragon-like blast of flame in the direction of his feet. He grunted in surprise as our shields rang from the blast. For a moment, the pressure lessened slightly, but it was only a moment. Firebrand, backed by my other-self, could have flash-fried mortal feet into carbonized bone and ashes. Our avatar adversary was strangely resistant to divine fire.
He swung up and over, the head of his mace meeting me in the back, this time. Backplates cracked and fell away as he hit me over the left shoulderblade. More bones broke, but things were almost ready. I kept pressing on, holding him in place, and whipped Firebrand around our shields in a similar maneuver. He took a bad cut—a mortal wound in anything mortal—along his left ribs, a deep wound, almost to the spine. It cut a lot of muscle, which made it easier to resist his push, but that would only be temporary.
He brought the mace up and over again, flailing over our shields to strike me in the left shoulder again, closer to the middle of my back. He was obviously going for my head or spine—I would have. I whipped Firebrand up and across, deflecting another strike at my head, counterstruck in a slash at his, and prepared to parry another shot from the mace. It was either block that mace or get my head pounded in, but any second now—
The pressure was off. My all-out effort was suddenly unresisted and I flopped forward over the fallen Lord of Light. A sizable portion of the back of his skull was crushed, in a suspiciously hoof-shaped dent. Sadly, it was filling itself in, growing back.
I rolled off him with a grunt and a minor assist from a hot, metal nose. Bronze sniffed at me, concerned.
“Bad night,” I rasped. She nodded and stepped on the Lord of Light’s chest. No, I said that badly. Stomped on the Lord of Light’s chest. No, that’s still not quite right. Stomped through his chest. Yes, that’s correct. His head was pulling itself together, reforming with extreme rapidity, but the hoofprint went to the pavement with a wet sort of crunching noise as flesh and blood spurted sideways through the road-ridges.
Is it wrong of me to enjoy such a sound? Even if it’s just once?
When she withdrew her hoof, I ran Firebrand through his chest, sideways, without bothering to get up. A quick thrust through the lung, possibly the heart, and the other lung. I left it there, flaming, flickering with bright fire and dark fire, while I worked the shield off his arm and sent it whizzing and clanging into the forest. Bronze kicked the mace in the other direction.
I got up, withdrew Firebrand, and stood over him. I laid Firebrand’s point in the hollow of one eye and waited for him to look at me. Once the majority of his chest reformed, he opened his eyes. His eyes turned white, then disappeared, becoming glowing holes into a white nothingness.
“You think you have defeated me?” It wasn’t a voice born from any physical source. His mouth didn’t move, but I heard the sound. Or maybe I didn’t. It was either in my ears or my head or both.
“You know,” I said, feeling the last of my bones pop back into place, “I’d have to admit, I do think that. Temporarily, by fluke, and in a fashion that will only work once, but yes.”
“You bear a weapon of power, wear otherworldly armor, carry a shield of celestial origin—but you are flesh and blood, infested with the power of chaos. Do you think any of those will save you? At bottom, you are a man born of woman, not in the fires of the first surges of creation! You fight only as a mortal, you will lose as a
mortal, and you will die as a mortal!”
He extended both arms. His shield and mace sprang toward him from however far away they landed, but I was already whipping Firebrand in a circle. The mace reached his hand first, and he swung it up at me as I swung Firebrand sideways at his neck.
I’m sure he intended to block with his shield while swinging at me, but it was delayed. Bronze was on that side and saw it coming. She tried to stomp it to the pavement with one forehoof, but it was moving too quickly for such accuracy. She stomped too soon, missing, but planted her leg in the path of the low-skimming shield. It hit her, hit hard, and bent her leg badly. This deflected the now-dented shield, however, so it wasn’t there when I cut through his unshielded hand, forearm, and neck.
The mace, on the other hand, hit my left side, headed upward, crushing armor and ribs up into my chest cavity. It sent me flying into a tree and sent Firebrand I know not where. I was tangled in the branches for several seconds before I fought my way free and fell to the ground.
Bronze kicked the severed head over to me, snorting fire and telling me we shouldn’t talk to evil demigods. I agreed with her silently, since the eyes were still open and glowing.
“You cannot kill me,” the head snarled. “I was the first, greatest and most powerful of all things brought forth from the void. I have existed since before the first world, and nothing can kill me.”
“I can kill this body,” I gasped; I was short on useful lung space.
“I will raise me up a new avatar.”
“No doubt, but I bet your respawn time is more than three days.”
The head screamed at me, a sound combining the worst parts of hatred, rage, and jet engines. The light within started to shine out of the eyes and mouth, too bright for me to look at. It felt hot on my skin, burning, which I thought was forbidden. All the while, the screaming sound rose in volume. It caused wood to crack and metal to ring and my ears to rupture—but I could still hear it, vibrating in my bones. Trees shed leaves, then branches. Smaller ones toppled. Larger ones began to disintegrate into showers of toothpicks.
“What does it take to kill you?” I screamed, unheard amid the din. I stomped the head, cracking bone. Light streamed from the cracks. I jumped up and down on it with both booted feet, again and again and again, screaming over and over “Die! Just die! Die! Die! Die!”
And then there was silence.
“Finally,” I gasped. I leaned on the splintered remains of a fallen tree and tried to keep my body straight. There were bits still moving inside me, trying to find their accustomed spot.
The crushed head began to glow brighter, as did the body. The broken flesh seemed almost to catch fire, burning with an unnatural white flame. Something like crawling electrical discharges arced between the body and the remains of the head. The white fire blazed brighter, rather than higher, and I felt the heat of it, a sizzling, scorching feeling that reminded me uncomfortably of sunlight. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t like the way it was acting—it looked as though it was working its way up to some sort of detonation.
“Oh, come on!” I demanded, but started making my way from it, climbing over tree trunks, forcing a path through shattered branches. Bronze was too far from me to reach me, so she ran directly away from the glow, just as I did. She hurdled large obstacles without much trouble and crashed through lesser ones, bent leg and all.
The explosion was soundless, bright, and that’s all I recall about it.
“Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Testing…”
I muttered something in reply.
“Aha! There you are. I was worried.”
That struck me as funny. I was worried and I told myself so, as if I didn’t know. My head started to clear a bit.
“I have good news and bad news.”
“That sounds familiar,” I said, or tried to. I wasn’t sure my mouth was working. “You’re playing god again, aren’t you?”
“Occupational hazard.”
“I should have expected a smartass answer. I’m talking to myself.”
“Only in a non-schizophrenic sense. I’m an independent entity, remember?”
“Vaguely. I’m still not all here, myself.”
“I know, but you’re getting better. I pulled some strings.”
“I recall the avatar of the Lord of Light going supercritical on me. How bad was it?”
“Well, it was bad enough to attract attention from On High. He’s not supposed to direct energies at you. Clobber you, yes, but not zap you or explode. That’s cheating.”
“Oh. Is there a way I can get a copy of the rules?”
“No. But I’ll watch out for your interests.”
“There are no lawyers in Heaven,” I argued.
“But this isn’t Heaven,” he pointed out. “It’s a quasi-independent energy-state plane of existence.”
“Oh, well, if you’re going to use loopholes like that, I suppose you can be my lawyer.”
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“I get that a lot,” I admitted.
“I imagine. But, back to the avatar of light?”
“Yes.”
“He tried to kill you as he died.”
“I got that. I also note I don’t seem to be able to feel anything as I float here in a nothingness. Did it work?”
“No, but it wasn’t a bad try.”
“I seem to recall an instance when I was badly hurt before. This is starting to get repetitive.”
“You live long enough and face enough nasty, powerful entities, you’re going to occasionally have your brains bashed in.”
“Great,” I groaned. “How long have I been out this time? Eighty-seven years? Nine years? Three?”
“Oh, stop it. It’s not that bad. Only a day or so. Bronze survived the celestial light better than you did—you’re more sensitive to it—and found you.”
“Oh. So, am I okay?”
“Mostly. They’ll be filling your barrel with blood at sunset. You should be fine after a good soaking.”
“Good to know. How’s Bronze? Firebrand?”
“Bronze was pretty beat up, but she’s a block of metal. She’s got her frame straight and is working on the fenders, but it’ll be a while before her alignment and paint job are all in order. Firebrand was extremely unhappy, but not seriously harmed, no matter what it has to say about it. It’s been complaining to Mary about the fracture lines and cracks, but it fixed itself in fairly short order—I helped a little, but don’t tell it or it’ll complain more. It’s sitting in a forge, adding some anger to the flames.”
“Is that a literal thing? Adding anger to the flames?” I asked.
“Well, if you use any metal out of that forge for a healing ring, my guess is it’ll work, but it’ll hurt.”
“Great. A grumpy dragon-sword.”
“It happens.”
“So was this the good news or the bad news?”
“Oh. Right. The Lord of Light is being censured for his actions. I’m not entirely sure how that’s going to work—he’s a bit strange, by celestial standards.”
“How so?”
“Remember, he was eaten by a demon from beyond the world. When the demon wasn’t in his psychic footprints anymore, the current Lord of Light immediately stepped into them. That’s odd, even by energy-state criteria.”
“Isn’t that how you showed up?”
“Yes, but I had to put myself together over the course of years. He just sprang up.” He paused for a moment, then said more quietly, “I think he’s another entity, taking over the shoes the Lord of Light used to fill.”
“A parasite?”
“I don’t know. I still have a lot to learn about being a god and the celestial ecology.”
“I understand.”
“Anyway, all that’s an upstairs thing. The finger-shaking at him doesn’t affect his followers’ actions, but it does limit the amount of aid he can give them.”
“Huh.” I thought about it for a moment.
“They can’t get their prayers answered?”
“Not beyond a certain minimal response, no. He is also forbidden from manifesting another avatar for some indefinite period.”
“A week?”
“More like a millennium or two. At least, in this physical continuum. If he has access to other physical worlds, other rules apply.”
“Comforting. Sort of.”
“I think so, considering you only won because Bronze is, technically, a quasi-divine entity.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“She’s part of our mythos. Odin has his ravens, Athena has her owl, the Hunter has his hounds, we have Bronze.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
“Yep. Firebrand, too. It’s the only way I could channel so much energy into Firebrand. It would have shattered the first time it met the mace, otherwise.”
“Don’t remind me,” I replied, trying to shudder. The last thing I needed was a grumpy dragon-sword with a god complex. “Anything else? Or can I crawl back into my body?”
“Oh, you’re still in it. I’m just accessing some of the sensory impulse channels in your brain and stimulating the cognitive functions.”
I didn’t have a good reply to that.
“Did I mention,” I said, finally, “how much I hate having my brain tampered with?”
“I recall it from somewhere,” he replied, seriously. “I wouldn’t do it if I had a choice. But after Mary got the wooden spikes out of your heart and head, I thought it would be nice if I kept an eye on your brain’s recovery. I mean, if you like the idea of having radical personality changes and loss of memory, I guess I could poke a new hole to match the old one. Or, if you like, I could leave you to regenerate partway before you go off hunting for blood as a predatory beast. You’ll eventually come to your senses, I’m sure. I thought you might prefer it if I suppressed all your activity until Mary can see you adequately fed and regenerated.”
“I take it back. Thank you. Thank you very much. You’re most kind.”
“Happy to help.”
