Gods of Shadow and Flame

by M. H. Johnson

  Malek shuddered in sudden horror, at once understanding the shocking devastation such overwhelming air support could wreak upon entire worlds free of the dread weapons of chaos he and his mad shieldsister had once mastered, lifetimes before. No nation upon the face of Dawn had countermeasures to deal with entire floating cities of demonic wizards and their minions. He found it all too easy to visualize entire worlds falling prey to an army of hellions launching blackest magic and vile rites from unimpeachable fortresses soaring across the nighttime skies.

  And yet Lilith, the mad queen who had claimed this Abyssal realm for her own only laughed. For though it was her own tainted lips that kissed the surface of the pristine horn, she suffered no burn or blemish, rather crying out with a twisted exultation as a brilliant ray of golden light formed but feet from where she stood, even as two massive and terrible giants covered in obsidian scales positioned themselves to either side of that glorious light, hissing as even as the light's reflection burned their flesh, but standing resolute, ready at their dread queen's command.

  And from that light emerged a single sandy-haired boy, wearing but a simple peasant smock and sandals. He appeared but a humble peasant child, save for the brilliant ivory wings upon his shoulders, arcing gracefully, basking the entire massive battleground in a gentle silver-blue light.

  To his credit, to Malek's terrified amazement, the child's puzzlement lasted only a moment. His gaze was free of terror, he did not give in to despair upon catching glimpse of the legions of monsters around him, even as the massive demons to either side of him cruelly gripped his wings, yanking him off his feet, his downy white feathers providing no resistance to their hideous clawed hands. Yet even then he retained a calm, almost regal air that belied his humble appearance.

  Warm brown eyes gazed gently into orbs of crimson madness.

  "Greetings, Lilith. It has been endless ages since last we spoke. I remember how eager you were to be admitted entrance into the great hall of wisdom, so long ago. Do you remember that final day we strode your glorious garden together, hand in hand, confessing our secret dreams?" His gentle smile turned sad. "I see your heart's desire has at last been achieved. Is it truly everything you had hoped for, back then?"

  Lilith shrieked a cry of such unholy exultation Malek roared with the pain of it, Alacabar and Lucienda grimacing and cursing as well. "Yes, fool, it is! Do not speak of the broken, frightened thing I once was, eons ago, David. Do not think remembrance of that pathetic shell of a girl will stay my hand or change your fate. I have achieved Dominion over this realm entire, cried Claimance that none dare challenge. All the armies of this plane of Hell are mine, and mine alone!”

  Lightning flashed and crackled madly through roiling skies now the color of rotting bile, her words echoing endlessly through dead valleys of shattered rock and boiling metal, demons without number screaming in tortured delight at their mistress’s voice.

  Her gaze was mad with a terrible cruelty. She delighted in seeing the angel before her utterly within her power, his wings ruthlessly stretched to the breaking point but no farther, forcing him to meet Lilith’s bitter gaze. “For endless ages, David. For endless ages I have dreamed of this day.” She shuddered, her voice the barest sibilant whisper that nonetheless carried to Malek's ears perfectly. “For what you have done to me, for turning my wench of a daughter against me, I shall make you pay. Oh yes, my dear David, I shall make you pay most dearly!”

  Her smile was one of purest malice as she gave a single abrupt nod.

  With deliberate slowness, the two hulking figures to either side of their captive flexed their muscles, straining David's wings to the breaking point and beyond. Malek's heart broke with a child's sharp cry as the angel's wings gave an audible crack, the cry turning to an agonized scream as the two monsters tore free the boy's wings with terrible deliberation, before presenting the two still glowing wings of ivory white, now splashed with blood, to their triumphant master.

  Lilith crowed with delight, her orgasmic shriek of conquest causing her minions to roar with diabolical approval.

  Uttering sibilant whispers caressing horrific magics so terrible that various lesser demons began to explode in hellfire upon hearing them, flashes of brilliant light erupting through the battlefield, Lilith twisted her torso around at sickening angles and savagely drove her prize deep into her own back. Her guttural laughter became a scream of utter triumph as the wings blazed brilliantly, flapping at her will, hers to command.

  Mad fiery orbs gazed triumphantly into eyes once innocent and eternal, now filled with shock and unspeakable pain, David shuddering and collapsing face first into the dirt as arterial blood spurted from his wounds.

  "Oh, we are far from finished, my dear David." Words so terrible with silken sweetness and darkest promise dripped from Lilith's lips, even as her mailed fist tore a handful of the shuddering boy's hair, forcing his gaze up to meet her own. "I have just begun to torment you, for daring to cross me!" Her smile was gleeful even as her finger cruelly tore free his tunic. Eyes without mercy gazed into his own, even as her hands grasped and squeezed. And Malek was forced once more to endure the awful sound of an angel's scream.

  “We have just begun, my sweet. And even as I defile you and break every bone in your body, even as I make your bag of shattered flesh scream with all the pains of Hell, know that my final prize will be nothing less than your heart!”

  It was Alacabar who shook off the utter horror of what they were witnessing first, Malek only realizing at that moment that he was doing nothing but shake with twisted horror and loathing, even as his terrible bloodwards seethed.

  "Angels above, Morlekai, we cannot let this stand! We fight! Till we drop from our wounds, till we can battle not a single step further, till our frames burst with the foul nectar we drink, we shall drain them dry! We shall fight with our dying breaths! We fight these monsters of Hell!"

  Alacabar’s roar catalyzed all four of them, instantly embracing their battlefrenzy once more, none doubting that this would be their final stand.

  Lilith's expression was one of utter ecstasy when she looked up from her shrieking victim, even as she shattered every bone in his flailing hands with a surgeon's precision before squeezing her fists tightly around them, till the pulpified flesh spurted forth like bone laden mash, the boy squirming underneath her terrible armored form, his tortured screams that of a helpless child.

  "Ah, so it is time, then. Excellent! Put on a show worthy of the queen of this realm entire! Go forth, my armies, slay these four paladins of the realm above. Break them slowly, savor their pain, make them know their place! Feast, my armies, feast upon the souls of my daughter's strongest champions. Claim their power, even as we shall soon claim her realm entire!"

  And the vile army of twisted creatures pulled from the foulest smoking holes of Purgatory roared and howled, even as Malek and his brethren charged forward with every fiber of their outrage propelling them, their cry no less powerful than all the armies of Hell stacked against them. And it was that dread army of unholy monstrosities with their flesh armored in screaming souls, twisted limbs, savage claws and hate that flinched, and those Delvers who dared to brave the horrors of Hell who claimed the moment; daring to take the initiative, daring to seize the Vor.

  "Malek, you take point! Do not stop! Do not hesitate! We fight through to that bitch, and we bring her down!" Morlekai roared, the last coherent words to be heard as they charged into their momentarily confused foes. As close to paladins as the world above would ever see, Malek thought in that mad instant as he crashed into the maelstrom of battle, Morlekai's one command resonating through him, through all of them, even as the frenzy of battle took hold.

  It was as if he charged into a crimson sea of torment, screams so numerous and hideous they roared over him like a wave drowned out all other sound. Malek lashed out with his terrible Zweihander, blazing like a fiery sun, tearing a wide swath through a half dozen insectoid foes chittering madly till the instant his blade burst th
rough carapaces and spear shafts alike, his fury and terrible blade making the stroke effortless, even as the splattered entrails of his ruptured foes momentarily blinded a half dozen stalk-eyed horrors just behind them, Malek immediately charging into their ranks, serpentine blade effortlessly cleaving through shelled carapace, bone spear, and massive appendages of demonic titans trying fruitlessly to stomp him with equal ease.

  Malek's roar was one of terrible fury and inhuman madness, screaming with the frenzy of battle and the agony of dozens upon dozens of dark powers falling before him, their nightmare energies absorbed entire by the blade he held, searing right into his frenzy maddened flesh, catalyzing dark changes within him which horrified him even as he reveled in a strength and speed so terrible, his foes could do no more than blink before he was upon them.

  Blink. In that instant, his Zwerchhau struck so blindingly fast he swore it could cut light itself, decapitating a lich screaming curses fit to burst his soul, were he merely mortal any longer. Blink. A figure of blackness with eyes glowing a fierce hot blue saluting him with his own dread shadowblade, a hellion Malek somehow knew had slain scores in duels deep in the netherhells suddenly before him, they both exchanging a score of blows and parries so fast their greatswords seemed but a blur, the air itself seeming to drip ichor as if space itself was being cut, before his opponent committed himself, lashing forth with a vicious Scheitelhau strike that would have split Malek's armored skull in half, had his own massive Zweihander not snapped upward to parry near its hilt almost of its own accord, knocking the shadowblade aside with a speed so blinding the creature could but gape in shock even as Malek thrust deep, his terrible blade ramming effortlessly up to the hilt as Malek continued his forward rush, ripping Zweihander free of the writhing prince of Hell in a spray of ruptured darkness, leaving the fallen shadowlord to collapse in death, the Fallen angel's power and knowledge flooding instantly into Malek even as he charged into a fresh wave of hellions, knowing his brethren shadowed his every footstep, dodging and striking out to terrible effect in similar melees on all sides.

  They never slowed down their mad rush for even an instant, knowing that to stop would allow their enemies to regroup, to pinpoint their exact location as they melted through the army’s disorganized troops like a torch through wax. To stop was to die, Malek sensed, even now feeling the dark spectral wizards billowing above the armies channeling terrible abyssal magics their way, and Malek couldn't help but grin savagely as his blade tore effortlessly through yet another screaming hellion, face splattered with abyssal bile that could no longer horrify him, his terrible bloodmagics greedily drinking in its corrupted power.

  "Ward yourselves! Abyssal storm!" Lucienda cried as she blasted off yet another siren shriek, a dozen of the lesser hellions hounding their flanks screaming and shriveling to dust as the darkest aspects of their sister Delver's gift blossomed in all its dark glory, here upon the plains of the damned.

  Malek felt it, then. The legions of liches and deathmancers that had been chanting their sibilant hisses and curses, building up in a cacophony of darkness a hideous spell of inconceivable power, choosing that moment to unleash all their arcane fury down upon the four Delvers who dared to take up arms against Hell itself. He could feel the dread crackle of power unleashed, smell its vile taint as the wave of abyssal energies crashed into them.

  A storm of curses and death fit to kill every man, woman, and child through all of Erovering, such was the power of that hideous rite designed shrivel Malek, his friends, and half the army to dust.

  And Malek laughed.

  The triumphant monotone chant of the specters above broke off in silent screams, several shaking and bursting into dark bloody flames as Malek’s brilliant bloodward sprang into effect. A trap. Delicious and devious, set to spring on any wave of dark energies sufficient to rupture his far, far weaker personal wardings.

  Few foes had dared strike out at them with enchantments as they pivoted about the battlefield, blades and pincers striking faster than curses, even as they had ever charged into the thick of their enemy's flank, forever keeping their enemy reeling, off guard, reacting to their strikes; the four of them perpetually seizing the Vor. All of which meant that the attempts to ward off Malek and his companions were physical. Any demon who had dared enchantments as they rushed in for the kill had died to Malek or Morlekai's blades before the first syllable had been uttered. And all the while, Malek's dread Zweihander had been channeling the glorious rush of all his kills, all their blood, their demonic souls as well, into his tormented flesh; Malek diverting as much of that awful torrent as he could into the dreadful spell he had constructed, the bloodward of a master crimson mage. Talents he could but scratch the surface of on Dawn, he knew in all their exquisite glory here, deep in the bowels of the Abyss itself, deeper than any realm of Shadow or nightmare.

  One specter after another exploded in silent crimson shrieks under the force of Malek's terrible retribution, his spell rendered hideously potent by the endless scores of foes he had slain, till the circuit was completed with the first touch of the specter's vile ritual. Caustic bloodmagic joined with the spectres' own dark working in a hideous fusion that began ripping through every last one of the shrieking specters as they were forced to devour their own awful curse, frying them to pale ash that drifted upon the massive blood-churned battlefield like snow.

  Malek screamed then in sudden hot, burning ecstasy, the fiercely gathered powers of an entire host of necromancers flooding into his own boiling soul.

  And as quick as crimson lightning flashed, Lilith's legion of spectral wraiths and all their dread power was gone.

  And Lilith gazed up from the writhing, screaming boy she feasted upon, feeding upon his living intestines even as his pristine ivory wings flexed with perfect grace upon her back. Her mad gaze, her utter defilement was enough to make Malek roar with a fury that transcended Hell itself, the very ground seeming to shudder with his outrage.

  And Lilith laughed. Her attention suddenly focused utterly upon Malek, even as her bloody hands waved her armies away.

  “Well played, Hound.” Her twinkling eyes bespoke of her amusement. Her delight. “My Jezabelle was right to choose you as her plaything, those many eons ago. How well you have mastered the magics of blood and wrath! For that is your nature, is it not, Rage?”

  She pointed at what Malek knew was a second coven of specters, having joined their powers to the first to aid their strike. The retribution had struck them as well, albeit indirectly, which was why they were not dead yet, even as Malek felt yet more unholy power bleed into him. His foes writhing and dying as crimson lightning continued to burn away every trace of their power, to sunder and lance the corrupted souls whose arrogance had left them unprepared to guard against arcane attacks unleashed at the very moment of their magical thrust, an Ansetzen maneuver very like the ones practiced by the Squires of Highrock, a swordsman's tactic Malek had known his arrogant foes would never expect.

  Lilith nodded her head almost approvingly as the last of the specters flickered out of existence. "Very well, Hound. You have earned the right to see the final act of this play!" Her eyes flashed with unholy glee even as she parted the veils of her own incomparable arts, revealing an army inconceivable in its scope, the hellish forces they had survived to this moment but the vanguard.

  Malek saw to his horror endless legions of hellions, scores of specter covens floating overhead, the crimson sky now shadowy with massive floating fortresses of tortured stone and bleeding eyes gazing upon the quartet of Delvers even now, floating high above. Not a mere handful of indestructible floating fortresses, but a vast sea of miniature moons ready to wage war against entire worlds. So much of it had been hidden by a magic so vast, so potent, only one who truly held Dominion over an entire world could possibly have cast it.

  Malek's inner strategist quailed for the fate of the worlds above. In no need of food, water, or rest; craving only the souls of all those who would fall before them, each and every s
oldier able to crush a mortal knight with ease, it was truly an army fit for an endless campaign of slaughter and conquest, overrunning entire nations as easily as a band of corrupt knights could rape and butcher an entire village of peasants.

  Lilith's smile was ghastly. Bone white teeth, pieces of David's entrails caught between, shining brightly amidst bloody gore streaming down her chin. "Yield to me, Hound of Hell! Yield to me, Elder God! Yield to me, Death of Stars, brother to Endless Night, advents of the End Times given life once more! Yield, and join my army! Let us conquer the realms of paradise and bring forth an era of eternal darkness, reveling in the endless screams of our foes!"

  With that she abruptly jerked up the shattered and broken thing that had once been a perfect boy, his beautiful face alone left whole, and deliberately so. With a piteous moan he gazed up into Lilith’s terrible eyes, so mockingly maternal, all but crooning to the shaking angel even as her lips dripped his own blood upon his brow. “David. Dear, dear, David. Fight me no longer. End this pain. End your agony. Simply submit! Forsake your vows, sweetling, and I shall free you with a quick death!”

  And in that moment the agonized moans of the disemboweled child stilled, the weight of endless eons lost within his terrible gaze. “Never, Lilith. Daughter of he who fell lowest of all.”

  Malek blinked, shaken to hear words of such calm authority uttered by a boy who had been screaming in unspeakable agony but moments before. He shuddered to think of the terrible weight this angel had carried for so long that would give him such resolve, even at the height of unimaginable suffering.

  The boy smiled almost sadly at Lilith. “I will never open the way to you, Lilith of the Fallen. I will never submit. I will never yield. No matter what you do.”