The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path)
Page 22
“I want you to acknowledge the truth.”
“What truth is that?”
“The truth that not only are you no better than Klaraxis, you fall rather short,” Krade answered.
Rage suffused Azerick’s body. How dare this creature condemn him for doing what he was forced to do? He never asked someone to murder his parents. He never asked to be taken a slave and forced to kill. And he never asked Ulric or Jarvin to drag him into their political intrigues and problems. To condemn his entire existence, to claim it was all one expansive lie was beyond untenable.
“Who are you to judge me or my actions?” Azerick demanded. “You, Klaraxis, and these other monstrosities exist only to destroy and cause pain. I may have done some things I am not proud of, but at least I have the capacity for regret and remorse. I gave hundreds of children a home and taught them the skills they needed to survive and flourish. What have you and your ilk ever done to help anyone?”
Krade clapped his hands and practically squealed in delight. “I love how quickly you jump to your greatest lies. All lies, every one of them.”
“What do you mean? I did those things, and nothing you say can take them away from me!”
“Of course you did those things, but your assertion of altruism is the lie. You claim to have saved these children. You say that you empowered them by teaching them to fight, but whom were you really saving? Was it really the nameless, faceless, little wretches of North Haven, or was it the frightened little boy, homeless, parentless and huddling in the cold, dark corner of an abandoned building in Southport? Yes, you see it now. You thought by creating that silly school of yours you could paddle up the stream of time and save poor little Azerick, show him he was strong and that you could save him. But you cannot, and his fearful weeping still fills your ears, a weeping so intense all the misguided attempts at heroics cannot stifle it.”
Azerick wanted to shout his denial, lash out and destroy this creature and his lies, but part of him questioned who the true liar was. What were his true motivations? How many of those children he professed to have saved died because of him? Dozens fell during the siege and the night the dead rose from their graves. He did not save them, yet he took in more knowing the gods and fates still toyed with him, used him as a piece in some greater game that put them all at risk. What was the real purpose of teaching all these children to kill?
The sound of soft weeping reached his ears and interrupted his self-recriminating thoughts. A chill ran through him as he imagined it was the terrified child within him as Krade said, but he quickly realized the sound came from outside his head and could discern the direction from whence it came. Azerick followed the sound deeper into the canyon, pausing several times to cock an ear in order to maintain his bearing.
Azerick soon came upon a large boulder butted up against the canyon wall to his right. The crying was coming from behind its monolithic mass. He carefully skirted around the rock, keeping his distance. There he found a young boy, huddled in the corner created by the cliff wall and the stone. He looked up and stared at Azerick. It was almost like looking in a mirror, a mirror reflecting an image from years past.
The terrified face could have been his, and for a moment, he thought it was. He thought it was some illusion cast by the devil to torment him, but then he spied the differences in the boy’s features. The eyes were much darker than his own were, almost black, and the chin and cheekbones reminded him of Miranda.
Azerick released a shuddering breath. “What evil is this, Krade?”
The devil beamed as if Azerick had just paid him the highest compliment. “What a perfectly formed question. This is your son Daebian.”
Azerick felt sick to the point of vomiting. “You lie. He cannot be here.”
“He most definitely is, and I do not lie.”
Azerick spun toward Krade. “You lie! You said you always lie.”
Krade twitched his shoulders. “I lied. I am the Keeper of Lies, it is what I do.”
“F-father, is that you?” Daebian asked.
Azerick looked at the boy skeptically even as his heart was torn asunder. “How would you know me?”
“Mother talks about you all the time. She said we look alike. Sometimes when I dream I see you, and yours is the face I see.” Daebian shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “I have this feeling I know you, that we share some kind of connection. I don’t know. I’m scared. Are you my father?”
Azerick’s heart pounded a syncopated rhythm that made him think it would surely burst. He looked upon Daebian and wanted to deny him, wanted desperately to shout down the cruel lie Krade placed before him, but he too felt a connection, a bond with the boy.
“Yes, if you are truly Daebian, my Daebian, then I am your father,” Azerick answered in a quiet voice.
“But you died. Have I died? Please, Father, I am so scared! Where am I?”
Azerick could take no more. Lie or not, he knew this to be his son. He rushed forward and scooped the boy into his arms, each of them soaking the other’s shoulder with tears.
“No, you are not dead. It’s okay, I’m here, Daebian. I will protect you,” Azerick swore.
Azerick wept harder as the boy tightened his grip around his neck. He could feel the warmth of his breath and the pressure of his arms around him. No illusion he knew of could produce such physical sensations. Tears continued to flow unbidden as Azerick did what he never thought he would have the chance to do—hold his son.
Azerick finally found the strength to pull his head away and look beseechingly at Krade. “How have you done this terrible thing? Send him back home, please.”
“I cannot for I did not bring him here. You brought him here with your lies. The Valley of Lies forces you to face yourself in your entirety. The boy is part of you, part of your lies. He will only find his way home when you find yours.”
“Tell me what I have to do! How do I find my way out of here?”
“By finding and accepting the truth about yourself. Truth, not the truth you use to make your existence bearable, but the real truth, is the only way to escape your lies.”
“Father, what is that man?” Daebian asked, his voice muffled by the cloth of Azerick’s shirt. “He frightens me.”
Azerick stroked his son’s head. “You do not have to be afraid. He is nothing. I will not let anyone harm you.”
“Nothing? You are so hurtful,” Krade said. “Come, we must proceed if we are to ever leave this place.”
Azerick set Daebian down and took him by the hand. “Lead the way. I will do whatever it takes to get my son out of here.”
“So you say, but few have the courage or honesty to do so.”
Daebian looked up at Azerick. “Are we going home, Father?”
“Yes, I am taking you home. Just stay close to me and everything will be fine.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that, liar,” Krade said.
As they continued their march through the valley, the scenery never changed. It almost felt as though they were not making any progress despite the moving of their feet. Small eddies of wind spun tiny clouds of dust, but no breeze ever touched them. It was neither hot nor cold, light nor dark. There was nothing to could give the slightest hint of life in this place.
“Why do you hold onto the boy so adamantly?” Krade asked.
“What do you mean? He is my son. Maybe your kind does not understand such a concept.”
Krade lifted one of his thin, black eyebrows. “What concept is that?”
“Love,” Azerick supplied.
“Oh yes, love.” the devil cackled. “The greatest lie of all! Finally, we get to the heart of everything.”
Azerick snorted derisively. “I would not expect your kind to understand. You are incapable of love. No matter what you say or show me, I love my son and my wife and I will do anything to protect them. That is the truth and I dare you to try to show me otherwise.”
“You really should not tempt a devil so.”
Azerick slid to a halt as he rounded a corner and saw two women chained to the cliff wall on opposite sides of the gorge. He let his son slip from his arms and doubled over from the awful ache filling his gut. Chained to the stone on his left was Miranda. On the right side of the canyon, Delinda was similarly restrained. Only inches away from each of them, a slavering, snarling harunden lunged and struggled at the end of a chain, desperately trying to reach the women and tear them to shreds.
“This is not real,” Azerick declared as he shook his head. “Delinda is dead and Miranda is safe at home.”
Krade sidled up beside him. “On the contrary, the abyss is open to all, alive or dead. You have but to look upon your son to know that.”
“What purpose could this possibly serve other than to cause me pain?” Azerick demanded.
“I want you to see the truth of your professed love. I want you to choose the one you truly love.”
“I cannot choose!”
“You must, and before you think it, you cannot save them both. If you try, both will die. If you refuse, both will die. You claim to love. I say it is a lie. Your choice will decide who is right.”
“How can I choose when I love them both?”
“You claim love prevents you from choosing. I say this is a lie. It is not love making the choice difficult but guilt. Guilt over doing what you know you must do; guilt over finally admitting your love is a lie.”
“Love is never a lie!” Azerick raged.
“Of course it is,” Krade insisted, “especially yours. You do not love for the sake of love. You love for how it makes you feel, the security and sense of normality it bestows. Pure love is an illusion, a lie. It is like a strong drink, if it did not bring the pleasure of intoxication, you would never suffer the vile taste of it. Love is all about you and the pleasure it brings, and for that you suffer the inevitable pain and bitterness it causes. Your first love is long dead and cannot bring you any pleasure by reciprocating your fallacious love, so that leaves guilt as your only true motivation. Guilt will trump love every time because guilt is a true emotion unlike the wispy intangibility of love.”
“Azerick, save me!” Miranda pleaded. “I am your wife and the mother of your son. Will you allow me to die in front of his eyes?”
“No, Azerick, save me!” Delinda cried. “I am your first true love. Our love was real. You let me die once, will you do it again?”
Azerick’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two women, his heart tearing in two, each half trying to escape his chest and fly to the women he loved. To choose one would deny the love he held for the other and prove the devil right. It would prove that love was conditional and subject to degradation. Azerick was damned no matter how he chose.
“Father, why are you not saving mother?” Daebian’s small voice begged.
Azerick tore his eyes away from the nightmare ahead of him. “Why are you doing this to me? You wanted to hurt me for my behavior. You have done so. Let them go.”
“I am doing nothing except holding the mirror. What you see is your own reflection in all its truth. You must choose, human.”
“I cannot choose, devil!”
“Then you have already chosen, just as I knew you would.”
The chains holding back the two harunden snapped, ringing out with the chime of a bell sounding out a death knell. The enormous demonic dogs tore into the two helpless humans with stomach-turning brutality. Azerick screamed with a savage fury matching the snarls of the harunden. Inky black flames shot out of Azerick’s hands and enveloped the demon savaging Miranda’s corpse, incinerating the creature in an instant.
The second demon dog ceased its attack on Delinda and charged, its four powerful legs devouring the ground between them. Azerick lashed out with black flames once more, but the creature dodged nimbly to the side and continued its charge. Before he could follow up with another spell, the harunden launched itself into the air and clamped its powerful jaws around the forearm Azerick brought up to protect himself. He transformed into Klaraxis’ massive frame to give him more leverage and to prevent the harunden from tossing his small human body about.
As he formed a spell to strike down the demon, Azerick heard Daebian’s soft chanting.
“Torn between truth and lie,
Father faced a problem,
He could not choose between them,
And so now we all must die.”
A knife appeared in Daebian’s small hand and he plunged it low into Azerick’s side. Pain shot through his body and suffused his soul. The pain went far beyond what simple steel could produce. It was agony born of a blade crafted from guilt, betrayal, and failure. It cut with the razor sharpness of truth, a truth that cut deeper than mere flesh.
Crying out, blinded by the composite amalgamation of all those agonizing emotions, Azerick unleashed his abyssal fury. The harunden barked out a short but ear-piercing yelp as the spell blasted it off Azerick’s arm and left it a smoking husk of a corpse. Spinning, he backhanded Daebian away with enough force to send him careening into the wall of stone where he crumpled into a heap.
Shocked out of his rage, Azerick shifted back into his human body and raced over to his fallen son. He dropped to his knees, cradled Daebian’s small body in his arms, and wept. Great shuddering sobs wracked his body as he gently rocked the boy in his arms.
“Now you see,” Krade said. “You chose guilt over so-called love. When put to the test, your love failed.”
“Have you not tortured me enough?” Azerick sobbed.
“You torture yourself. As long as you cling to your lies, your soul will always be in a state of torment.”
Azerick shook his head, rubbing his face into his son’s shoulder. “Fine, you win. Maybe my love is not altruistic and selfless. Maybe no one’s is. Maybe the choices I made in my life were not always for someone else’s benefit or welfare but for my own. But I made my choices, I did what I did because I thought it was right, consequences be damned! I don’t care if they were right or wrong. I don’t care if it was for my benefit or someone else’s. They were my choices, I made them as my conscience dictated, and I will not apologize for any of it!”
“Finally, you see the truth of yourself,” Krade intoned.
Daebian’s body turned into the red sand of the valley floor and ran through Azerick’s fingers to form a pile in front of him. Azerick rolled the grains in his palms with his thumbs, mixing it with the tears rolling off his face.
“Damn you,” he whispered.
“I was damned at the moment of my conception, as were you.”
Azerick ran his hands through the mound of sand that was his son before standing and turning to face the devil. Krade was gone, as he expected, but so too was the valley. The impossibly high walls had vanished, and only the unchanging vista of this hellish place filled his vision. Turning a slow circle, Azerick spotted a black, uniform shape in the distance. Anger slowly replaced sorrow as he processed what Krade had done to him. He was furious. The valley had been a lie. His son, wife, and love were all lies. Worst of all was the realization that he was nothing but a lie.
Azerick extended his hand toward his citadel and curled his fingers as if to pluck it from the horizon. With a snarl, he jerked his arm toward his chest and found himself standing in front of the enormous doors. The two insectoid-looking demons standing sentry flinched at their master’s sudden arrival.