The God in the Shadows (The Story at the Heart of the Void Book 1)

by TorVald, Nikolas

  Aren’s eyebrows raised, “You’re right. It must be far more valuable than I thought.” Hurrying towards the beasts previous resting place he waved Selth after him. “Come on!” he shouted, “Let us see what can be seen!”

  10

  A Díryen's treasure

  Only Ruination still fights for Az’emon. I suspect he will come to our side soon enough. He craves destruction but deep in his heart he still fears death and if Az’emon wins that is surely the fate of us all.

  – Pel Abis to Shattrenlix

  The two of them strode across the great hall towards the Díryen's lair. Bones crunched beneath their feet from previous victims of the massive creature and as the darkness cleared Selth realized that the room was far larger than she had previously imagined. It was at least twenty times the size of the hall where the Shadow had resided and far more elaborate. Massive statues of triumphant looking people, oddly proportioned so that they were far stockier, shorter even, than normal humans lined the walls and gold tracery decorated the floor, ceiling and walls. The stones of the floor fit seamlessly together, creating an even surface that even Selth’s sharp eyes couldn’t find a flaw in. More than that, they were patterned in such a way as to create a beautiful aesthetic. Different shades of stone blended gorgeously to create a complex pattern that began to resolve itself as Selth and Aren moved across the floor.

  As they reached the far side of the room she saw what must have been the Díryen’s lair. A massive stone building, a palace, rose from the ground and the sides and ceiling of the great hall fell away around it. The top of the building reached far past the height of the hall and the base of it was at least twice as wide. An enormous pair of gates stood open at its entrance, hanging loosely from their hinges. They were worked in stone and depicted the same sturdy people digging out a mountain. Gold and gems were set in the gates in such a way that they seemed to glitter despite the poor light, creating an almost life like scene. Yet around them were massive gouges and teeth marks. Small sets of armor were scattered across the ground and axes and swords of a similar size, corroded to thin slivers of metal and wood, lay all around the entrance.

  Selth looked over at Aren. “What is this place?” she asked, casting her eyes up the intricately worked building. It almost seemed to be a natural formation so beautifully did it blend with the rock all around it. Yet, at the same time, everything was shaped and sculpted to catch the eye. It was the perfect balance between natural and artificial.

  Aren was looking around with curiosity and didn’t respond at first. Finally, he looked down at her, “I don’t know. The underground was long abandoned by the time we found it and we did so thousands of years ago. This is the first clue we’ve had that a civilization might have lived here. But from the fact that we’ve never seen anyone I must surmise that they were dead and gone long before we had even the smallest inkling of the existence of a place such as this.” He cast his eyes back to the palace before he was finished talking, unable to tear himself from the beautiful structure. Even the damp, oppressive cold of the underground couldn’t undo its magic.

  Selth had already displaced it, the physical aesthetic of the building faded to non-importance, a detail which she could bring back at any time if it so pleased her. The adventures, the treasures that could wait inside the structure were what drew her attention now. “What do you think happened here?” she asked Aren, trying to decipher more of what the two of them could hope to find inside.

  He glanced at her with surprise before turning back to the structure. “I’d imagine it’s quite obvious what occurred.” he pointed to the massive gouge marks and the armor left lying on the ground, “The Díryen decided it wanted to make this place its lair. I’m not sure you realize how lucky we were in that fight. The Díryen was ancient; it was going to die of its own accord soon anyways. If it had been in the prime of health it would have destroyed the both of us as soon as we entered the room. Obviously it was in full strength when it attacked here, and destroyed the resistance it met, wiping out this city.”

  They walked on in silence once more, passing through the massive gates. Both stopped in wonder. Not even the hope of adventure could drag Selth’s attention away. If she had thought that the outside of the building was beautiful it was nothing compared with the intricacy done to the walls on the inside. All idea of a natural aesthetic vanished, replaced with master stone work that made everything she had seen up until that point, even the towers of the academy, seem like a child’s work with wet clay. Flowing carvings ran along the walls depicting scenes she could never have comprehended. Statues and weapons made in perfect form seemed to be in the motion of stepping out of walls and strolling down corridors. They were so real that she had to check they weren’t following her and Aren. The floor shone despite the age and horrors it had undergone and the ceiling stretched far overhead. Everything was placed deliberately, creating its own aesthetic which lay in a pattern more complex and beautiful than anything Selth had seen before.

  She glanced in front of her and saw that Aren had moved ahead, following the gouges in the floor cut by the Díryen. She hurried after him. “Why did you say that the Díryen's lair should be interesting if you didn’t know about this city?” she asked, shaking away the beauty of the palace and focusing on her end objective.

  “Because,” he responded briskly, “Díryens hoard treasure almost as much as dragons and given the age of the Díryen it must have hoarded a massive amount. From the look of this building I wouldn’t be surprised if most of that treasure came from these people. It likely found enough treasure here to never leave once it had conquered the city.” The two of them swung around a corner at the end of the massive entrance hallway and saw the Díryen’s tracks lead through a massive door where its powerful darkness still lingered. Aren smiled, “Here we are then. Follow me.” He walked towards the door and with a wave of his staff an orb of light shot into the darkness, dispelling it rapidly. Selth hurried after him and as the two of them reached the massive doors that led to the Díryen’s lair the last of the darkness cleared.

  Selth gaped. Massive piles of gold, silver and gems beyond count sat piled and scattered all across the room. Intricate pieces of armor, more works of art than functioning sets of equipment, were placed on pedestals in various areas and other pedestals held objects that began radiating a magical light when the Díryen’s darkness cleared. More wealth than all of the nobles in Redtower could have had combined sat at Selth’s fingertips but her attention was immediately drawn to one of the sets of armor. It wasn’t like the others, intricate beyond use. It was made mostly of leather with small plates of metal set in different places on the separate pieces. It was the weapons that hung from its back that drew her attention though. Hardly looking around, she teleported to it and moved around to get a better look at the twin swords that came with it. She froze, they were the swords from her dream. The same long narrow blades, one of the brightest gold the other of a black obsidian.

  “Here lies the reason for our fall,” Aren’s voice resounded in Selth’s ears, shocking her from the dream like trance the swords had put her in. “The false god, the deceiver who stole our inheritance, our power, for his own selfish reasons. May the betrayer spend the rest of his days in the burning fires of Hell. May he pay repentance for the sins which have destroyed us all.”

  “What is that?” Selth asked, shocked at what he had read. She circled around the armor and pulled level with him. Words written in blood were painted down the front of the armor, words she hadn’t seen in her trance over the weapons. “What does that mean?” she whispered, shocked.

  “Yes, interesting question. What does it mean?” Aren said to her, half laughing at the question, “We may never know.” Then he moved around the armor to look at the swords, evidently unconcerned with the bloody text. “Beautiful blades.” he mused, reaching out to grab one. As his hand closed around the hilt of the obsidian blade a surge of power blew out and knocked him back into a pile of gold, twenty fe
et away.

  Selth gaped at him in shock, “Are you okay?” she shouted to him. Of all the things she had expected that was not one of them.

  “Yes, yes.” he replied, picking himself up out of the coins and groaning softly, “Why did you have to go to that set of armor, I bet none of the others would have tried to kill me.”

  She shrugged, turning back to the armor, the bloody writing burned into her mind. “I don’t know.” she said. But those swords were buried in her mind, she knew them. They were her swords, and if they were her swords then that made her the false god.

  Aren hurried back towards her, nearly tripping over several of the more intricate pieces of treasure. “You touch one of the swords.” he said when he reached her.

  Selth looked at him in shock, “No!” she shouted.

  He rolled his eyes, “Look. You and I both know that those swords match the swords from your dream exactly. If you didn’t want me to figure it out, then you shouldn’t have described them in such detail.” he pointed at a pair of daggers hanging from the armor’s belt. “You also should have hidden those because they are an exact duplicate of what you can summon now.”

  She opened her mouth to protest that wasn’t the case but Aren didn’t give her a chance to voice it. He grabbed her hand and pressed it into the grip of one of the blades. Selth readied herself for an explosive launch like Aren’s but nothing happened. He let go of her hand and laughed out loud. “So. Now the question is, why are you a false god?”

  Selth shuddered all over when he asked that, “Don’t say that! I’m not a false god. I’m a girl from the slums of Redtower! That’s all I am, that’s all I’m ever going to be.” Fear started tinging her voice and she looked at Aren with wide, panic filled eyes.

  He sobered instantly, making a calming gesture, “It’s fine Selth. That’s right, that’s what you are. Just a . . . ” The area all around the armor blew apart.

  Aren flew backwards, smashing into the ground with a groan but Selth stayed exactly where she was, hanging in the air with her hand wrapped around the obsidian blade’s sword hilt. “I am not a god!” she screamed. Some part of her mind was shouting at her to let go of the sword hilt but a torrent of power had opened up and it was riding over every command she was giving. All that was left was that she was not a god, that she didn’t want whatever power it was that was coursing through her. Not if she had destroyed an entire civilization by lying to them as a god. Invisible tendrils of air caught Selth’s hand as more and more of the room around her was destroyed in her rage. With a cry of agony, her fingers were ripped from the hilt of the sword and she collapsed, unconscious.

  Aren rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her body as she slowly came to. “It’s okay.” he repeated softly to her, over and over, “It’s okay. No one thinks you’re a false god. You’re Selth, from Redtower. Don’t worry, that’s all you are. No one wants you to be any more than that.”

  Selth looked up at him and threw her arms around the old mage, letting out a pained sob. He patted her back reassuringly. “Why are these things happening to me Aren?” she sobbed out.

  “I don’t know Selth,” he said, still holding her tightly in a reassuring hug, “I don’t know, but just remember. As long as you remain the same up here,” he gently tapped her forehead, “Then you have nothing to worry about with all this . . . power that seems to be yours.”

  She nodded slowly and pulled away from him. Already her mind was reasserting control of itself, soothing over the raw emotion which had punched into her when she read that inscription. Mending the ragged holes in her conscience which had been torn open when the power from the sword roared through her. She looked at the thing one last time and felt a shudder of fear pass through her, then she pushed it from her mind. “Thank you Aren.” she said, calm coming over her again, “You’re right. As long as I’m still Selth from Redtower then nothing about what may have happened here matters to me.”

  He smiled at her. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got another mission planned and I think it’s one you might like. It should take your mind off,” he gestured around the mostly destroyed room, “All of this.”

  “What is it?” she asked, the prospect of another mission, another adventure, tearing her away from what had just occurred.

  “A little jaunt into the Mountains of Endless Night.” he replied with a mischievous smile on his face, “Should be fun.”

  A grin spread across Selth’s face and all vestiges of horror over what had just happened vanished. The Mountains of Endless Night had never been explored, rumors of monstrous creatures and crevices that extended all the way to hell kept any intrepid explorers away. Aren was right, that should be fun.

  11

  The Lord Governor of Redtower

  I have been to the center of our enemy’s mind and back yet I cannot understand him. I have seen his heart, his deepest desires, and they are beyond my ability to comprehend. I no longer believe I held any sway over him. He is beyond all of us.

  – Selthraxadinian to his companions and Shattrenlix

  Selth and Aren stepped out of the portal that led from the underground onto the streets of Redtower. They wandered through the deserted area which protected the entrance and soon were out onto the busy streets of the city, the sun high overhead. A full day had passed since he got her from the academy and dragged her on their insane adventure. Nothing had changed, after everything that had happened in the underground, Selth was shocked to see people walking about as they did every day. Nobody was conscious of the fact that a creature of darkness had been slain under their feet, nobody had even felt a change. Looking into Aren’s face, she realized that he didn’t seem to care about what the people in the streets thought.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked him.

  “What?” he glanced down at her, confused.

  “That we just killed a Díryen, just blew up the largest treasure room in the world, and nobody even cares, nobody knows or noticed. It feels as though something should have changed.”

  Aren laughed, “I felt the same way the first time I did something great. It was back when I was still a novice and my master and I had to stop a Necromancer who was raising an army of the dead in the Mountains of Endless Night. We met him at the border and destroyed him before war raised him to the power of a god. When I came back only the magi who knew what we had done reacted in any way.” He looked down again and saw that Selth still wore a frown on her face. “It’s for the best,” he added almost sadly, “these people don’t want to know about Díryens or Necromancers. They want to go on with their normal human lives and not worry about who takes cares of all the monsters they fear. Take that away and all that would be left is blind panic.”

  Selth nodded slowly, it made sense. If everyone knew what had just happened there would be chaos; it was better for the world if people could hold to their fragile concept of order. Lost in thought, she realized that Aren was leading her towards the one section of Redtower that she hadn’t explored when she was thieving for Renth. “What are we doing in the nobles’ circle?” she asked, instinct causing her to move up behind him, attempting to hide from the glowering guards who were stationed across the area.

  “I told you,” he said brightly, “we’re going on an adventure. The first stage of that happens to call for recruiting some back up so I have to go to the Lord Governor’s and request his Inquisitor.”

  Selth stumbled, the Inquisitors were legendary scouts and spies for the kingdom of Andin. It was said that they could kill a man from a thousand paces and stand as still as a stone for hours on end. They could disappear into nothing and travel twenty times the distance of a normal man in a day. “Why do we need an Inquisitor?” she asked, “won’t you and I be enough to take care of whatever comes our way?”

  Aren looked down at her amused, “We could,” he said slowly, “but that’s much the same as using a hacksaw to carve up your meat. If you and I sauntered across two kingdoms using magic to protect us we wo
uld leave obvious marks for anyone with the right knowledge to follow. Plus we’ll need him to get us across the border to Mardule. Unless you want me to kill half the Andian army when we cross the border we’re going to need official papers. An Inquisitor can provide those.”

  He turned then and moved across the street to a door. Selth followed closely and when the two of them reached it he raised his hand and pounded on it three times. They stood in silence for five minutes. Finally someone pushed open the door and a hand darted outside, motioning the two of them in. The hand resolved itself to be part of a butler who was waiting for them silently. As soon as the door banged shut behind Selth he turned on a booted heel and led them through a maze of hallways and staircases. Everything was wrought in the beautiful red stone that made Redtower famous and the floors were made of polished marble that reflected Selth’s image back up at her. Countless rooms led into the hallways at the first level but with every staircase the layout of the building became less complex with less distance until the next set of stairs and fewer, more expensive looking rooms leading out onto the hallways. The three of them went up at least twenty flights of stairs and by the end Aren was struggling to keep up and even Selth was feeling the strain of going for so long. It was especially wearisome after the ordeal in the underground. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep but the butler finally led them to a massive gold-plated door and she and Aren both managed to draw themselves up in a respectable looking way. The butler knocked three times in rapid succession, bowed to them, and retreated back the way they had come.