Pure Darkness

by Aja James

  It was a massacre.

  The General and a few select warriors were defending the base, I knew. Even from afar I could see the gruesome battles waging on the tallest ramparts.

  He wouldn’t win. He must have known that going in. The odds were insurmountable. Hundreds against one. The Dark soldiers were better trained, batter armed, better supplied.

  There was no escape.

  I grabbed the closest sharp object—a rusted iron rod stabbed into an abandoned patch of dirt—and determinedly went in search of a glorious death. I knew I wasn’t a fighter, but I’d do my part. This had been my home for the last nine years, and I would defend it to the end.

  But just as I took a few steps toward the base of the fortress, the earth shook around me. Fireballs of stone descended from the skies and struck the fort towers one by one, raining rocks and debris upon the ground, crushing anything and anyone haplessly trapped beneath.

  I barely leapt out of the way of a collapsed wooden beam when a heart-wrenching howl rent the air.

  Inanna.

  I knew her voice. The golden-haired girl who was now a beautiful warrior screamed in undiluted pain. It could only mean one thing: either her father, the General, had fallen, or it was her etlu, her warrior, the General’s Second-in-Command. She would never have shouted her own pain in that soul-shriveling pitch. It was not the sound of someone who was merely wounded, or even on the verge of death. It was the sound of someone who’d lost all reason for living.

  The air around me was filled with ash and smoke, flecks so large they looked like dirty feathers, and they coated everything in a thick film of gray and black. The color of death.

  A Dark soldier came at me from out of nowhere, his sword poised to strike, his fangs bared and bloody.

  I stumbled backward, brandishing my iron rod in front of me ineffectually, and he easily flicked it out of my hands. So much for a glorious death. I couldn’t even take one vampire down with me!

  Fuck it! I thought, charging headfirst into the soldier’s torso in an uncoordinated move.

  Perhaps he didn’t expect the attack from a weakling like me, because he fell backwards into the ground with a muffled grunt.

  I shouted with fury and frustration and sheer, horrified desperation as I pummeled his face with my fists, sitting astride his chest. I could feel tears trailing down my face as I hit him, as my knuckles thudded on his flesh, cracking his cheek and eye socket. It was awful. I hated it. But I did it anyway because this soldier probably hurt and even killed people I cared about. People who’d been kind to me. And he was only going to hurt more innocents.

  I couldn’t let him.

  But then, with a sudden heave, he shoved me off of him, sending me sprawling on my ass. He picked up the sword he dropped when I knocked him down and came at me again, his face a bloodied mask of rage.

  This was it, I thought, and closed my eyes as the sword stabbed toward me. But I never felt it.

  When I opened my eyes again, Inanna was standing over a pile of ashes, a long dagger in each hand.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said brusquely, hollowly, as if simply speaking by rote.

  She sheathed one of her blades and extended a hand to pull me up.

  “The Queen needs us.”

  She let go when I was on my feet and looked briefly around us.

  “What’s left of us, anyway,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Come on.”

  Blindly, unquestioningly, I followed her. Just as other villagers and remaining Pure soldiers we passed along the way did. She rallied the survivors together, put us on as many horses as we could find, and led the way through the back of the mountains behind the fortress, a secret path that the Dark forces had not yet blocked.

  I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t wonder what we’d do once we got there. Whatever might come, I accepted it. I’d give my life for these people who more or less accepted me.

  After an entire night of traveling as furtively as we could, our small straggling band of villagers and wounded soldiers arrived at a small citadel hidden in the mountains, a few miles behind the Ivory Palace. The seat of the Akkadian empire, Queen Ashlu’s base of power.

  There, the Pure Queen’s remaining personal guards and army greeted us with food and water, bandages and ointments for the wounded. I gave my portion to the weakest among us, the women and children. There wasn’t much. I didn’t need to eat anyway. I was used to it.

  Instead, I helped pass out the provisions, tending to the disheartened and frightened Pure Ones as best I could. (You might notice that I didn’t count myself as one of them. I didn’t belong anywhere. But this ugly cuckoo was going to protect the pretty ducklings to his last breath, damn it!)

  “And so it begins,” the Pure Queen, Ninti, said softly, staring into a low blazing bonfire as if mesmerized, Inanna at her side.

  I slowed my work and shuffled closer to hear their exchange. Perhaps I could help in some way. I didn’t know how, but surely there was something more I could do.

  “How can this be part of papa’s plan?” Inanna asked, fury and heartbreak cracking her voice. “Why would he purposely allow his own capture?”

  What?! The General wanted this to happen?

  “He foresaw these events, Inanna,” Ninti answered. “You know his Gift. It was only a matter of time that he was killed or captured. He was their foremost target. He knew that Queen Ashlu would strike out with everything she had. There was no other choice but to create a diversion.”

  “A diversion?”

  “Upon his capture, after Ashlu’s armies razed the fortress and surrounding villages to the ground and accounted for all the dead and living, she would think that she’d triumphed.”

  Hadn’t she? In my view, she surely had! Countless Pure Ones perished!

  “She doesn’t know about me,” Ninti continued. “At least, she doesn’t know the extent of my Gift. All her spies have told her is that there is a nominal Queen of the Pure Ones, just a companion for the General. She doesn’t know there is still an army ready to attack where she is most vulnerable.”

  What army?

  I surreptitiously scanned the scattering of soldiers we had left. There were a few hundred warriors at best, and a third of them were wounded. The Dark Queen had tens of thousands in her legions, and that’s not counting her allies. We were doomed.

  “So this is our last mission, then,” Inanna gritted out, then gave one firm nod, as if accepting the inevitable end.

  Ninti put a hand on her arm, making the other female gasp as if shocked by a burst of lightning.

  “It is our last mission,” Ninti agreed, “but all is not lost. The General did not…sacrifice himself for nothing. We will have the might of unexpected allies with us when we attack the Ivory Palace tomorrow at dawn.”

  Dawn! So soon. We’d barely caught our breath from the journey here.

  But what did I know? I was too weak and too useless to fight alongside the other men. Perhaps it was only I who was plagued by fatigue and fear.

  Inanna looked fixedly at Ninti’s hand on her arm, as if she was hypnotized.

  “Dawn,” she echoed distractedly. “Ashlu will not expect a charge so soon.”

  “We will have the element of more than one surprise on our side,” the Pure Queen agreed.

  And then she said, “You feel it, don’t you? The power coursing through you?”

  Inanna was still staring at where Ninti touched her.

  “Yes. Wh-what are you doing to me?”

  I squinted at the place of their connection as well. Inanna’s skin practically glowed.

  “It is my power, my Gift,” the Pure Queen said softly. “I am reinforcing your soul. Taking away the Darkness, leaving only Light. So that your own Gifts, your strength and bravery, are amplified to the maximum and beyond.”

  “If only you could take away the pain,” Inanna murmured, finally moving her arm away.

  “I a
m sorry for your loss, warrior.”

  I wondered whether Ninti referred to the General or Alad. For neither were with us now. But Inanna never mentioned the Second-in-Command. It’s as if she’d completely forgotten him. As if he never existed for her.

  “I will give this same power to each and every one of our warriors tonight,” Ninti continued. “It does not last long, but it will be long enough. We will win our freedom tomorrow, Inanna. Have faith.”

  Dawn was just hours away. Ninti did what she promised. She went from tent to tent, soldier to soldier, spending long minutes with each of them, chatting, holding hands. Strengthening their souls. Each person stood taller, stronger, after she left them. I could see the hope and awe on their faces, shining brightly in their eyes.

  Slowly, painstakingly, she made her way through the villagers too, the Pure Ones who wouldn’t participate in the battle ahead, but who still needed the courage to survive. Perhaps needed it more than even the warriors, many of whom would be charging toward their deaths. Because the ones left behind, heartbroken and bereft, had to somehow carry on without their loved ones.

  At last the Pure Queen neared my bedroll in the grass, stopping first to hug a little girl, and rock her to sleep with a whimsical fairytale.

  I watched her with an involuntary smile. My interactions with the queen had been few and far between. She had been away from the fortress, traveling with the General the day that I first arrived in the Pure Ones’ stronghold. And during the rare occasions when she returned for a brief stay, she was always surrounded by soldiers and villagers alike. Everyone wanted to bask in her uplifting light, like moons that circled around the brightest sun.

  The first time I met her, a couple of weeks into my tentative stay at the Pure Ones’ enclave, she’d taken my hand said, “You should eat more, young one. You must grow big and strong, I can see it in your bones.”

  I nodded, because telling her that food made me nauseous might make her stop looking at me with such unreserved affection. What abnormal creature didn’t like food?

  “Who are your parents, handsome boy? What is your name?” she asked, peering closely at me, but not in a threatening way. Just curious and…caring.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know your parents or you don’t know your name?” she asked gently.

  “Both,” I muttered, pulling my hand away.

  She stroked a hand through my unruly black waves. It was really my hair; I didn’t disguise it in the form I took. It felt so good to have someone touch me like this. I’d never experienced this feeling before.

  But then I remembered how dirty and grimy my hair was, and likely infested with fleas. I’d pushed her hand away sullenly, embarrassed.

  She merely smiled at my eleven-year-old self.

  “With hair and eyes so dark, I think I shall call you Erebu. My favorite time of the day—the gorgeous sunset right before a star-filled night. Darkness can be beautiful too.”

  Since that encounter, when I thought of myself with any sort of moniker, I thought of all the names I used to be called—Monster, Abomination, Demon (though my mind shied away from what she used to call me)… if I were feeling more positive, I also thought of myself as Erebu. It seemed to fit.

  And so, I admired the great lady Ninti from afar, and loved her too, after a fashion. As all of the Pure Ones under her care did. To me, in our brief, rare interactions, she was all the love I’d ever wanted in life rolled into one person. She was what I imagined for the best mother, sister and friend. But of course she didn’t know it. She’d probably chuckle indulgently at me if she did, for she’d never laugh outright at my strangeness. She was too kind to do that.

  Presently, she crouched down beside my bedroll as I sat on top of it. Though I already knew that even if I lay down, I wouldn’t sleep. Dawn was almost here.

  “Erebu,” she greeted in her soothingly low, melodious voice. She was the only person who called me that.

  I loved it when she called me that.

  “My lady,” I returned, having learned some manners since she first met me nine years ago.

  She extended her hand toward me, obviously expecting me to place my own in it. But I could see her outstretched fingers shaking.

  I looked into her face. It was pale and drawn, her eyes glassy. Had she given too much of her Gift? Too much of herself? She looked ready to collapse from exhaustion, her breaths short and belabored.

  I kept my hands to myself and moved slightly away from her, out of reach. The rest of my body was covered by long trousers and a long-sleeved tunic, but I wouldn’t put it past her to touch my face. She needed to conserve what little strength she had left. I wasn’t planning to survive tomorrow anyway; she didn’t need to waste herself on me.

  “You’re purposely avoiding me,” she mumbled without heat, even though a slight frown creased her brow. It’s as if she didn’t have the strength to really scowl at me.

  “You’ve given enough of yourself to all of us,” I said. “You must take care of yourself if you are to lead the Pure Ones into an unknown future.”

  She pinned me with a knowing gaze.

  “You always refer to our people as Pure Ones, as if you don’t count yourself as one of us.”

  “I’m not.”

  “But you are Pure.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know exactly what I was, but I was either more, or less, than Pure, depending on how you looked at it.

  “Erebu,” she said softly, waning rapidly, “you must be strong tomorrow to face seemingly impossible odds. Let me help you.”

  “But who will help you, my lady?” I asked in return.

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “Don’t worry about me. I just need to last a little while longer, sit atop my horse and be there when our warriors need me. I am merely a figurehead, you know. The General was our true leader. But illusion though it is, I will do whatever I can to give our people strength and hope.”

  She was very wrong. She was much more than a “figurehead.” She truly did bring hope and joy to everyone around her. And now she’d given them her own strength. Almost all of it.

  “You need to rest if you intend to sit atop any horse,” I said, purposely making a teasing twinkle light up my eyes. “Come lie down with me. Only for a little while. I need some of your strength and comfort, my lady.”

  As I intended, the playful tone in my voice made her more open to the suggestion. I suspected that, otherwise, she would have kept right on touching people and giving all of her strength away. I’d managed to distract her for the moment.

  “Are you flirting with me, Erebu?” she teased back with a wry smile. “You’ve grown into quite a handsome charmer.”

  Little did she know that what she saw was merely a disguise.

  I opened my arms in silent invitation. She didn’t hesitate to curl herself against me as we both lay down on my bedroll.

  “One day, some lucky girl is going to catch your fancy, Erebu,” she remarked drowsily, stifling an exhausted yawn.

  “You have your whole life bright and free ahead of you…” she trailed off, falling almost immediately asleep.

  “Just one last hurdle to overcome at dawn,” I murmured to myself.

  As I held her loosely, her back against my front, my arm around her middle, my nose in her thick, soft hair, I felt as though I was already living my dream: To be close to someone like this. To give and receive comfort. It was heaven on earth.

  The Pure Ones needed Ninti’s light. They needed her strong. They needed her alive. But, listening more to what wasn’t said than what was, it didn’t sound like she planned to survive. Only long enough to help the Pure Ones win the last battle. She had to live. I couldn’t imagine the world without her light. She needed to store up more strength, but dawn was almost upon us.

  What to do…what to do…

  And then I knew. A figurehead. That’s all the Pure Ones needed for the last charge
against their Dark foes.

  Just an illusion to give them hope.

  Chapter Nine: The Creature is Born

  Third millennium BC. Outskirts of Akkad. Two miles north of the Ivory Palace.

  “Are you ready?” Inanna asked when I approached her just before the first rays of dawn could peek through the heavy, rain-drenched clouds overhead.

  “I was born ready.”

  She started and blinked, staring at me as if I’d grown two heads.

  Oh, right. I was supposed to be Ninti. The Pure Queen probably didn’t do flippant. Blame it on my nervousness.

  I had honed my Gift enough by now to automatically adopt the mannerisms of whoever I was impersonating. But the prospect of riding into death, glorious though it might ultimately be, was making my knees shake like a leaf in a windstorm.

  I’d carried Ninti, bundled in my bedroll and deeply asleep, to a hidden copse of trees last night. I laid her within the nook of tightly woven branches and leaves and covered her with more leaves to further camouflage her presence. Even if someone passed by two feet away from her, they wouldn’t see. She was well and truly hidden. I tethered a horse a little farther away. Close enough for her to whistle for it, obedient war-trained steed that it was. But far enough that it wouldn’t alert anyone to her location.

  Perhaps when she awoke from her restorative nap, this whole thing would be all over. Wouldn’t that be a treat?

  I cleared my throat and tried again.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said more mildly, smiling benevolently at Inanna.

  “Are you?” I asked with an arch of one brow.

  The awesome golden warrior-ess gave one firm nod. Goddess above but she was a sight to behold in her leather armor, her long hair a fierce braid over one shoulder, her bright blue eyes blazing with determination. With Inanna to lead us into battle, we could win this. We absolutely could! Perhaps if I told myself that a million times, I’d actually begin to believe it.

  We got onto our horses (I had some trouble with mine, or rather Ninti’s, since I’d never really ridden a horse for any length of time), and made our way to the front of the camp. Pure soldiers naturally began to follow us, arming themselves to the teeth, the cavalry gathering into formation in our wake.