Birth of a Mortal God

by Armand Viljoen

  He nodded. “You have her answer, Shi-narok.”

  “Jessica, move to the tip of my nose,” answered the Serpent King in unaccented Zinoxian.

  She could have sworn she heard approval in his voice before she turned to Tal. “Thank you for everything you have done.”

  “We only did our duty as Ferryman, now off you go, young one,” he said oddly self-conscious.

  She smiled and hurried down along Shi-narok’s face. After a while, she reached the tip of his nose and steadied herself against one of the blade-shaped horns.

  The Serpent King moved his head only a few inches away from the strange field surrounding Sa’leeon. “Walk forward, if you stop, you die.”

  Jessica hesitated a moment then stepped off Shi-narok’s nose into the field. Pain ripped through her as if her entire body was being pricked by needles from within. She couldn’t determine whether her eyes were open or closed as she pressed on into the black void. She realised she had been holding her breath and exhaled, only to find there was no air to breathe. Terror gnawed at her sanity, and just when she felt all was lost, light stung her eyes.

  She took a deep breath, and as her vision refocused, she found that she was falling to her death. Realising that she must have exited the field at the same height at which she had entered it, she desperately tried to think of a way to avoid her imminent death. A primal scream of panic escaped her mouth as fear finally overwhelmed her when a strange reptilian creature appeared below from out the jungle. It extended its hands towards her, and her descent slowed immediately. She exhaled in relief as she floated harmlessly down towards the ground.

  “Sorry about that. Shi-narok never takes his height into account,” said the reptilian creature as she landed in front of him.

  Jessica stared at the strange creature. It was about five feet seven inches tall and covered with fine yellow-green scales. It wore a light brown robe that stopped at its ankles, and had its thin tail coiled around its waist.

  “Do you understand me?” he asked in heavily accented Franca.

  “Yes. I apologise for my rudeness. It is just the first time I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a khaanmoloch.”

  He fully exposed his small needle-like teeth as he smiled. “You know of my race? Few do.”

  She returned his smile. “My husband told me about your kind.”

  “Oh? He must be quite an interesting individual.”

  “He is. In a sense, he was born here long ago.”

  “I don’t see how that is possible,” answered the reptilian, clearly unconvinced.

  She shrugged. “My name is Jessica. I am here to speak with Lathrion.”

  He gave a courtly bow. “I am called Igneel, First Servant of the Black One. You are most peculiar. Usually those who come here intend to slay my master, not speak with him. You should not expect him to be very hospitable.”

  “That I have already been told many times,” she stated plainly.

  A strange whistling sound came from him which she took to be laughter. “Talvirnia, no doubt. He tried to dissuade me from coming here as well a long time ago. He’s one of the few remaining who witnessed my master’s empire, it has left him . . . anxious in matters concerning my master.”

  “You also came here from elsewhere?” she asked surprised.

  Igneel mirrored her expression. “Of course. The only way into Sa’leeon is by the leave of its two warders.”

  “Warders? I didn’t meet any warders.”

  “Talvirnia and Shi-narok; they are the turnkeys for this prison,” he said as he started down a narrow path into the jungle.

  “Prison?! What do you mean, prison?” she asked as she followed.

  The path forked, and he indicated they should turn right. “You truly are not suggesting you did not know Sa’leeon was a prison, are you? The name means punishment in Dragon Tongue.”

  She noticed the webbing between his fingers but thought better than to enquire. “It would appear my dear husband neglected to tell me a great many important things.”

  The reptilian shrugged as he continued to guide her. “It would seem so.”

  The trees started thinning out, and they soon stood in a clearing. Jessica held her composure as she examined the scene before her, however, her heart pounded so loudly that she feared Igneel would hear its distress.

  A massive singular mountain rose out of the southern part of the island. Cleared of all vegetation, it proudly brandished the breathtaking image etched into its side: a great dragon with a throng of skeletal figures gathered around it. The representation was made all the more horrifying by the valley below it, as hundreds of skeletons tended to the well-cultivated fields of produce and cattle.

  “What is all this?” she asked, unsure of how to process the utterly bizarre sight before her.

  Igneel looked at her puzzled. “They are servants of my master, of course. He is unmatched in the necromantic arts. In times past, he was known to some as the Lord of the Dead.”

  She silently followed him up a slope that ran along the edge of the mountain until they finally stopped in front of a pair of massive black metallic doors, each embossed with an alien skeletal figure facing the other. The figures had hornlike bones that extended a foot from their elbows, knees, and heels. Bone spikes spiralled two inches out of their spines, all the way down to the tips of their long tails. They possessed triangular skulls like that of a bull, but with the teeth of a carnivore.

  Igneel smiled at her obvious curiosity. “They are called revxians and reside within Henensu’s realm. Occasionally, they would enter the mortal realm to deliver the god of death’s judgement, as these two were. Henensu does not take kindly to those who manipulate the dead, you see. When my master defeated them, he had them sealed within these doors as a warning of sorts.”

  She instinctively took a step back. “Are they still alive?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he answered before putting his hand against the left door and pushing it open.

  She watched as the two-foot-thick door effortlessly swung aside. “What type of metal is that?”

  “Creperium, the most durable material in existence.”

  “As well as incredibly light, apparently,” she noted.

  “No, not particularly.”

  “Then how did you just push aside a door that would have normally required several oxen to move?” she asked as she inspected the scrawny reptilian.

  “Oh, that? That’s due to master craftsmanship,” he answered before stepping inside.

  Jessica followed him into a large corridor. Hundreds of sconces containing small spheres of light adorned the walls, revealing that every square inch of the walls possessed mysterious runic engraving. “Lathrion used the dead to do all of this?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Not at all. Reanimations can be used for various manual labour tasks, but nothing this delicate. The carvings in the mountainside, these runes, and the creperium doors are all the work of dorguns. They were among the many peoples who served my master before his imprisonment,” said Igneel almost proudly.

  “I thought you said that this place is a prison? Why would these dorguns decorate it so lavishly?” she asked dubiously.

  “This isle was not always so. It once served as my master’s home long before it became Sa’leeon. It is due to betrayal that it has become thus,” he said bitterly.

  “What do you mean?”

  He almost spat the words. “Those who thought themselves above my master’s rule would have been eradicated if his kin had not betrayed him and interfered.”

  Jessica felt droplets of sweat running down her back and could almost hear Talvirnia’s warning in her mind. They passed several skeletons doing menial household chores, and she found herself suppressing a smile at the almost comic effect it had. She wondered absently how many of these undead minions it took to maintain the vast series of corridors.

  They finally stopped in front of what appeared to be a dead end, despite having past by several doorwa
ys. Igneel placed his palms lightly upon the smooth rock and closed his eyes. He mouthed a few words in a foreign tongue, and then stepped away. Suddenly the wall became transparent like glass and split into blocks the size of a man’s fist. They started moving by themselves and quickly rearranged to make a hole large enough for them to pass through, before retaking the appearance of solid rock, leaving behind a gateway into the chamber.

  “That was amazing! How did you do that?” she asked as she inspected the wall closely.

  “I merely asked it to let us pass. It is an entramarch.”

  “A demon door? I thought they were only a myth.”

  He shook his head. “No, their kind just keeps hidden due to the temples’ mistaken belief that they are demons. Only a few still live; this one came here seeking sanctuary. They make excellent guards as they do not eat, drink or, sleep. My master granted its request on the condition that it guards the entrance to his chamber.”

  “To keep anyone from getting inside?” she asked confused.

  “To keep anyone from getting out,” he answered with a toothy grin before walking through the hole.

  She followed and the hole closed so fast behind her that it almost nipped a piece of her hair. They continued on until the corridor widened after a turn. Suddenly, she found herself questioning her decision to come here.

  The chamber was a grand sight to behold. It was the size of a city’s market square, however, instead of merchant stalls, it held mountains of gold, jewels, and various other valuable artefacts. At the centre of it all slept its master. Jet-black scales, varying from the size of a man’s fist to the size of a heavy shield, covered his enormous form. A large grey scar ran from above his right eye, across his back, to his hind right leg. Whatever had made the scar had cleanly severed his right wing, as well, as there was not so much as a stump.

  Although Lathrion was many times smaller than Shi-narok, Jessica found his quenru to be much more imposing as she struggled to breathe under the immense pressure.

  Igneel approached his master seemingly unaffected. “Master, there is a woman here who seeks an audience.”

  Black eyelids slid back, exposing crystal blue eyes. The gigantic orbs shot to her, and his words dripped with hatred. “Where is he?! Where is that laqueer?!”

  She stumbled backwards at the sudden outburst, while a small part of her wondered if all magical beasts were secretly language scholars. “Laqueer? I don’t know who it is you seek, but my name is Jessica.”

  “Don’t test me, human! Tell me where he is!” he roared, exposing teeth the size of swords.

  She fought the urge to flee and replied in as calm a voice as she could manage, “If you are referring to Killmar, he is no longer in the mortal realm. He sacrificed himself to close a gate that had been opened to the Ninth Hell.”

  “Good, then I can devour you without fear of retaliation,” replied the large creature as he ambled towards her.

  “Killmar said you are to protect and take care of me,” she said in a quivering voice.

  He smiled. “Oh, do not fear. You will be very safe within my stomach.”

  She stood rooted in terror and as massive jaws started closing in around her, she shrieked, “I am here to claim the boon you owe Killmar!”

  Lathrion stopped and sighed. “This is what I get for being theatrical. I should have just killed you before you even had a chance to utter a word.”

  Jessica blinked like an owl suddenly caught in lantern-light as he returned to lying amongst his gold. “So . . . you are not going to eat me?”

  He crossed his forelegs in front of him and laid his head on top. “Even I have certain principles that I won’t break. If that laqueer wants to squander the life boon I owe him for such a foolish task . . .” he shrugged. “Besides, you humans have fleeting lifespans, much like insects. Once you have died of old age, I will have repaid him in full.”

  She found it strange how he could want to devour her with intense hatred one moment, and casually speak with her the next. “How did you immediately know it was Killmar who sent me?”

  Lathrion snorted, sending a warm breeze through her hair. “The child within you reeks of his quenru. But why he would mate with one of your kind is beyond me.”

  She lowered her hands to her belly. “I take it you don’t like humans?”

  He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “Why not at all. There are very few creatures who can match humans in taste.”

  “I . . . see.”

  He turned to the reptilian who had been silently observing the entire exchange. “Igneel, prepare some quarters for our guest. Also find a suitable location where she could give birth and educate yourself into a good midwife.”

  “As you wish,” he answered with a bow.

  “Birth? I am not even showing yet, it will be months before I’ll give birth,” interjected Jessica.

  Lathrion grinned. “How naïve. You truly have no concept of what is growing within you, do you?”

  “Come now, let us leave my master in peace,” said Igneel as he hustled her out of the chamber.

  “That child could prove to be very useful,” said Lathrion to himself before returning to his slumber.

  JESSICA STARED AT the sky, her hands resting on her prominent belly. Lathrion had been right, although not as quickly as he had predicted, her child had grown amazingly fast. Three months had passed since her arrival, and she was now expected to give birth before the end of the day. As always, the sky inside the field was colourless. It was as if one stared into clear water with no bottom; though sometimes, it would have a lighter or darker tinge to it. Luckily, gazing at the field from within didn’t have the same repercussion as when done from the outside.

  Igneel pulled aside the black metallic door and saw her sitting out on the ledge, her feet dangling off the mountainside. “Jessica, you promised me that you would no longer be this reckless. You need to be mindful of your condition.”

  She smiled. She had come to like the meticulous khaanmoloch. He had taken care of her as tenderly as one could expect from a loving family member, and they would often spend hours just talking about everyday drivel. “You worry too much.”

  “So you keep reminding me,” he said as he sat down next to her.

  “Has he asked for me yet?”

  “No, my master trusts my capabilities,” he said absently.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said crossly.

  Lathrion had only seen her twice since her arrival, both times, he only made enquires as to the well-being of her child before dismissing her.

  Igneel helped her to her feet. “Come. It would be very bothersome and dangerous if you were to go into labour here.”

  She knew he was intentionally changing the subject and played along. “Are all khaanmolochs such nagging old women?”

  He smiled. “Only those who have been tasked to play the part of midwife.”

  A litter carried by eight skeletons rushed over, and he helped her inside. She had gotten used to the undead servants, but still didn’t like them and avoided them whenever possible.

  “Igneel, why is Lathrion so interested in my child?” she asked as the litter set off to a gentle trot.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps because he is Killmar’s child, as well.”

  “Yes, I am sure that plays a part. I don’t know, it just feels like he is planning something,” she insisted.

  “I do not know if my master has any plans for the child, but I doubt he would harm it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The child is more useful to him alive than dead,” he stated plainly.

  “He really does seem to despise Killmar. Why is that?

  Igneel sighed. “Your curiosity is insatiable. I—”

  “Can’t tell me anything about your master. I know, I know,” she interrupted.

  “If you know, then why do you persist in questioning me?”

  “Because one day, you will let something slip,” she a
nswered with a wink.

  He shook his head and helped her into the room he had prepared for her childbirth. It even had all the necessary furnishings and tools, should there be any complications.

  She stumbled slightly on her way to the bed, and he quickly supported her the rest of the way. “You have been getting weaker over the course of your stay. Have you been eating the meals sent to your quarters?” he asked worried.

  She nodded. “I am fine. I just need to rest a little bit.”

  “Send one of them if you need anything,” he said indicating the undead servants who stood like statues against the wall.

  She indicated she would, and he hurried from the room.

  IGNEEL ENTERED HIS master’s chamber with three cows and a score of skeletons in tow.

  Lathrion looked up. “You are late.”

  “My apologies, master. I was escorting Jessica to bed.”

  “How is her condition?”

  “Just as you predicted, master. She is very weak. I doubt she will survive childbirth.”

  “Well, if she dies, she dies. It will be out of no fault of ours. Move my dinner a bit further away. I don’t want their blood staining my hoard,” he said as he rose and stretched.

  Igneel bid the skeletons to do as their master commanded. “As you wish, master.”

  Lathrion ambled over to where the terrified cattle fought against their restraints. “Release one of them. I am in the mood for a little sport.”

  They did, and he gave the animal a few seconds to run before pursuing it. Despite the animal’s crazed dash for the exit, he reached it in a few strides and bit it in half. Even though he was one of the few dragons capable of swallowing such a large animal whole, he never did, as it always gave him indigestion. He preferred to savour his meals rather than gulping them down like a serpent.

  Igneel watched in awe as the skeletons released the second cow. Lathrion nimbly pounced on the animal, pinning it to the ground without the use of his claws, as they would quarter it by accident.

  A skeleton rushed into the chamber, and Igneel recognised it as one of those he had left with Jessica. It indicated frantically for him to hurry.

  “Master, I think Jessica has gone into labour. I’ll be back later to give my report,” he said before darting out of the chamber.