My Name is Ruin

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  All at once, blast upon blast of Pavel’s energy struck the wall. The Azat continued his enraged assault on the glowing wall which was already changing color from a crimson hue to a sparkling black light. It was a transformation unnoticed by the incensed man who was lost in the frenzy of his anger.

  The ceiling and the other walls began to receive the dark bursts, even as the glowing change spread all around the chamber. The illumination had changed from a reddish hue to one of a silvery dimness. Finally, Pavel stopped. His exhausted breathing and heaving shoulders showed the toll the frenzied reaction had exacted from the Azat.

  Sheqer was still looking at the changes in the chamber when he heard Pavel. The weary man’s voice echoed in the confined space.

  “Nothing. It didn’t open. We’re dead,” said the man in a disappointed voice.

  “I think something has changed,” replied the demon slowly, staring at the wall. “Try willing the chamber to open. Face the wall leading deeper into the mountain.”

  A loud, deafening slam sounded. The wall indicated by the demon had opened. But the sudden, sideways movement of the massive block of stone also shook their surroundings. For a moment, the man wondered if the chamber would collapse. Death by being crushed or entombed wasn’t also a choice. The structure of the room held, but the momentary fear reminded Pavel to take into consideration the effect of such actions on his environment.

  “Now, we know we’re expected,” voiced Sheqer amidst the silence that followed.

  19

  Demonic Gauntlet

  “Time for us to run the requisite gauntlet.

  I believe it’s the norm for places like this. Funny.

  Usually, it’s me on the other side,” said the demon.

  Pavel glanced at the bard. The new corridor was inviting, but the events confused and disturbed him at the same time. First, the Azat wanted to know what happened. He’d be crazy to proceed, not knowing what he just did. He looked at Sheqer.

  By now, the demon had gotten used to the nuances of Pavel’s expressions. Sheqer was aware of what the man wanted to know. But he thought the Azat was unacceptably predictable at times, though there were instances when he presented a wonderfully esoteric experience. Like just now.

  “It’s the energy you have. It’s not normally found in this world or mine. It erases the power of anything created by ordinary magic. You just changed the key of this room, and now it obeys you,” explained Sheqer. “But you’re untrained. Reckless. Ignorant as a chicken visiting a kitchen at lunchtime. Clueless as a thief trying to pickpocket a High Mage. Mindless as…”

  “Stop. I get your point. I don’t know what I am doing. Now, what?” snapped Pavel.

  “Think before using it like you just did.”

  ***

  Their steps now echoed as they walked through a large corridor. This time, the walls were decorated with murals and sculptured decorations attached to the marble. It was still black, though a faint eerie light occasionally ran through the material. At least, it provided enough brightness to see where they were going.

  Pavel looked at one of the shapes and quickly turned away. It was a nauseating and repulsive representation of something totally alien to his experience. Sheqer didn’t seem concerned.

  “Aren’t you worried about being ambushed?” he asked the bard who was leading the way.

  “No. We’ve passed the clearing room. Any surprises would be waiting for us in the next hall we see. And don’t go looking at those statues. There are worse shapes than that one,” warned Sheqer.

  “What are they?”

  “You don’t want to know. My mistake. All things considered, I should say, it’s too early for you to know,” laughed the demon. As they walked, Pavel wondered whether the tone was mocking, amused, or expectant.

  ***

  “Problem.”

  Sheqer’s voice stopped the Azat. The bard was standing in the middle of the hallway. Several yards away, the passage turned to the right. Pavel looked at the demon who stood silently. The man didn’t disturb the bard. What information he needed would be given him in due time.

  After a while, Sheqer glanced back with a wry smile, resignation on his face.

  “Time for us to run the requisite gauntlet. I believe it’s the norm for places like this. Funny. Usually, it’s me on the other side,” said the demon.

  “There must be a transport portal somewhere in this pigsty. I doubt if the rulers of this dark place use the long route you discovered,” replied Pavel.

  “A privilege for a select few, I’m afraid, and we’re not in that circle,” chuckled Sheqer.

  “About that gauntlet, what do you sense? The presence of our welcoming party?” asked the Azat.

  “One of my kind awaits us.”

  It was an answer Pavel didn’t expect. Demons of this reality was a possibility. But from Sheqer’s world? The response raised so many questions about what they were facing. Suddenly, the Azat felt like he was asked to put out a raging inferno with a mere bucket of water.

  Damn this quest. It’s becoming bigger and more complicated, he thought irritably.

  “Why don’t I go ahead and put a hole in its maggot-riddled body?” suggested the man. “Or just blast everything I could see?”

  “That would be perfect, except it had already sensed and branded me. It’s a magical challenge back in my world and can’t be removed from my essence unless my opponent dies or I get eliminated. And about your other suggestion, as I warned you, control of your power is needed. We don’t need the mountain burying us,” replied the demon.

  “One-on-one fight. Can you take him?” came Pavel’s inevitable question.

  “Maybe. It’s a High Demon, though recently descended to such a rank. She used to be of the same rank as I am,” answered the bard.

  “She?”

  “It took the form of a female. Anyway, we’re wasting time. If I do win, then I get to consume her essence,” said Sheqer who then laughed. “A form of self-promotion in a sense. Follow, but don’t enter the cavern ahead of us.”

  The demon shifted to his mist form and sped down the corridor. The Azat followed at a run. He felt a powerful surge of power coming from beyond the open entrance, and then a strong shockwave knocked him to the floor, sending him sprawling. The demonic battle had been joined.

  He picked himself up and got to the doorway. The cavern was a huge one, illuminated by the now familiar reddish lighting. Right in the middle of the vast hollow was a huge swirling ball of dark fog, shot through with bolts of lightning. Inside the vacuous sphere could be seen the shadows of two gigantic figures attacking each other. From time to time, parts of the bodies of the fighting entities would be visible.

  Both had terrible forms, with horns and eyes all over their bodies. Pavel could see one had a vaguely humanoid shape, though the number of extremities seemed to be excessive. The other appeared to be a massive ball of flesh, with numerous tentacles ending in long, clawed fingers striking at its enemy. All the while, balls of fire and coruscations of lightning erupted in the space between the pair, occasionally landing on the body of one of them.

  Pavel suddenly felt the energy within him reacting to the colossal display of demonic power. Somehow, it felt alive, and he could sense its eagerness to join the battle. He quickly forced it back, the effort leaving a vile aftertaste in his throat. The man was shaken by the abrupt response of the dark force within him. A disturbing feeling had accompanied it – a hunger to crush and tear to pieces the entities fighting before the Azat. But the unexpected physical and mental effort to contain his power weakened him. He had to hold onto the doorway just to remain standing.

  As greatly troubled thoughts passed through his mind, he saw the humanoid figure swiftly transform into a blazing sheet of black fire and engulf the ball of demonic flesh. Arcs of power from the sphere blasted through the altered form, tearing large gaps. But Pavel could see that the orb-like demon was being rapidly squeezed despite its efforts to rip away the deadly shr
oud. While the ovoid shape became smaller, the fog covering the pair thinned, leaving the man a clear picture of the titanic struggle.

  The covering layer of still raging dark fire looked like a ragged piece of cloth and had holes all over its surface. But it obstinately continued to shrink until, with a sudden flash, its ovoid opponent was no more. It slowly dropped into the rocky floor, still in its murky form. Pavel got ready, carefully guiding the energy within him lest it became uncontrollable. A dark, tenuous tendril of power appeared on his right hand. If Sheqer lost, then the man would have the satisfaction of killing the victor. In its current condition, the Azat didn’t think the surviving demoness would be able to put up any defense.

  The black fog on the ground slowly coalesced into a human form. It was Sheqer. The demon won, but he looked like shit. Even from where he stood, Pavel could see that the bard was struggling to keep his human shape. Tendrils of smoke appeared to float away from him. The demon looked smaller, and his mass was getting smaller as more and more of the dark mist separated from the body.

  Pavel realized that the demon was dying.

  The man ran to Sheqer. As Pavel got nearer, he could see his suspicion was correct. The bard was literally wasting away. The demon was a lot thinner, and his human features were becoming vague.

  The situation placed the Azat in a quandary. He could see that the demon needed serious magical help, and assuming he knew how, did he really want to? Demons are demons, shouted part of his clouded mind. Greatly differing points of view were waging war in his torn awareness, making it difficult for the man to find a way to resolve the issue. Yet, Pavel was also reminded of the oath Sheqer had taken and what he’d promised the bard.

  He had one untested option and certainly didn’t know whether it would work. It was an unproven possibility. It might even put an end to the struggling demon’s existence. But the nagging question of attempting to save such a reviled entity remained. The part which didn’t care was balanced by the reminder of the promise he made to Sheqer, and the times the demon had saved his life.

  For all his faults, the bard had remained loyal to him. He understood it was because Sheqer believed that Pavel was the best option in returning to his world. But still, he felt that he owed the creature. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation.

  Pavel stared at his right hand. The carefully prepared energy was still present, and wisps of power continued to swirl around his fingers. The Azat sighed with resignation as he made up his mind. The man pointed at the prone body and slowly infused it with the force he had prepared. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was the only choice available to him.

  The stream of energy slowly entered Sheqer’s body, willed to help the demon retain its form and existence. The man saw that the smoky tendrils immediately stopped leaving the bard. He continued the process for a few seconds more and then cut the connection. The damned bastard might end up even more powerful if he maintained the connection. Sheqer’s eyes were still closed, but Pavel could see the body mass of the bard starting to fill out.

  The Azat sat on the cavern floor with the doorway at his back. The process of helping Sheqer had worsened the fatigue and weakness he felt. It was now up to the demon to recover. In the meantime, Pavel took the opportunity to examine the hollow. He couldn’t see any other opening but also couldn’t see the far end of the area. Strangely, he could sense that the small amount of energy he had released wasn’t being replenished. It was another concern, though it could wait. The power he had used wasn’t that much anyway.

  Then the bard stirred and sat up. He glanced at his surroundings before finally settling on Pavel.

  “I feel different,” said the demon weakly.

  The Azat explained what happened. The demon didn’t say anything at first. Then the bard feebly laughed, showing that he still hadn’t fully recovered. Pavel carefully scrutinized his companion. If the chaos energy had changed Sheqer, the man couldn’t see it. The form that remained was of the bard, smaller in size and height than the man, and still with that mischievous and irritating smear on its face.

  “Now, this is ironic. For both of us,” declared the demon with the usual chuckle. “I gained the essence of a High Demon, only to lose a large part of it as I lay dying. Only to be revived by an infusion of chaos energy from a mortal. Unbelievable. I would have expected you to leave me here to die. Why didn’t you?”

  The Azat replied that he honestly didn’t know for sure. Part of him wanted to leave Sheqer where he was, yet part of him didn’t want to abandon somebody, even a demon, who had saved his life several times. It was confusing, Pavel admitted. But he didn’t mention the part where the power within him wanted to crush both demonic entities.

  “You are really mortal. Issues of conscience do not affect beings with the power of Chaos, and I admit it is inexplicable why your mind wrests with such concerns. I would have left myself to die. No remorse. No hesitation,” said Sheqer. This time, the bewilderment assailing the demon was genuine.

  Yes, you would, thought Pavel. But I owed you.

  “On the other hand, I also don’t know what chaos energy would do to me. I believe this is the first time one of my kind had been imbued by that affinity. I haven’t heard of a demon becoming a creature of Chaos. An affinity with Order would be more palatable to our kind, given our predilection for structure and organized mayhem,” mused the bard somberly. “I guess we’ll both know in the days ahead.”

  ***

  The duo stayed in the cave for a while, though they moved to the section near the corridor entrance. Sheqer needed to recover, and Pavel required time to sort out matters in his head. He feared the confusing contradictions and inclinations which swirled through his thoughts were dangerous distractions. The demon’s near-death experience and the solution the Azat adopted had stirred awake and exacerbated the latent conflicts within Pavel.

  The brooding Azat had already neatly summed up the two sides divided by a bizarre mental chasm in his mind. One was a human side, powerful yet limited by mortal concerns and conventions. The other was a terrible being. A mighty mortal shell with no moral compass or compunctions. He didn’t know which it truly was, though a recollection of his previous actions had shown the man facets of each personality.

  The latter was the stronger temptation, but Pavel realized he lacked what was needed to be that entity. His instinct also told him his future wasn’t on such a road. If Lady Fate planted that kernel of warning in his being, then that mighty entity wasn’t as uncaring as her followers made her out to be. Reflecting on the options his mind was giving him, he suddenly realized that, for both choices, the common basis was his mortal being. Knowledge and power would come, but in the end, he was but a human.

  Two dangerous and tricky paths, he thought warily.

  One was complicated and fraught with brushes with death, and the other would do away with any of the dicey distinctions the exercise of a conscience would demand. It was also dangerous, but it would give him more freedom to act. All it asked was that Pavel gave in to its terrible desire to destroy anything and anybody who stood in his way. It was a tempting call and would put to rest any difficult choices which a conscience would ask him to do.

  The man exhaled slowly. He elected to make the decision after the training Sunor promised him. Hopefully, the knowledge would help in making the final choice on what kind of Azat – or even Sidi – he would be, assuming he survived the present quest. Yet, a small voice in his befuddled mind told him that being a mortal channel for death and destruction would bring him outside the circle of the Order of the Iron Band.

  A heartily hunted member of the Order, Pavel reminded himself.

  ***

  “I wonder what’s keeping them?” Pavel asked the recovering bard.

  “Who’s them?”

  “The rest of the greeting party. I doubt if the death of your opponent went unnoticed,” remarked the Azat in a concerned voice as he stared at the far end of the cavern. It was too far, and the light to
o dim for him to get a glimpse of anything. Still, his ability to sense the arrival or presence of energies should have alerted him if something was creeping up on them. Given what he had seen so far, the man had reason to very anxious about the next creature. Or creatures. They weren’t exactly invited.

  The demon giggled. Weakly, but it was different altogether compared to what Pavel had heard before. Previous chuckles, laughter, and even the occasional snigger sounded human. Sheqer’s amused, yet nightmarish noise came from somewhere else. It painfully scratched one’s mind, leaving frigid steps as it reverberated through the soul.

  “Don’t laugh like that. It makes me nervous,” admonished Pavel.

  “I apologize, Master. I am still trying to restore my full human guise,” said the demon. Even Sheqer’s voice tortuously grated on the ears. Apparently, the bard focused on regaining his human shape.

  “Talk to me when you’re normal. The demonic side keeps coming out in your voice,” advised the man testily. He had questions, but hearing the answers spoken in such a devilish timbre would be torture.

  After a while, Sheqer spoke to him, this time in a normal voice. The Azat noted the rapid recovery of the demon considering the kind of injuries it had suffered. He didn’t know if it was an inherent ability of their race or whether the chaos energy had something to do with such a restorative display.

  “They know we’re still here. Though that brings up two possibilities. The first is that they don’t care since they’re powerful enough to eliminate us once we reach them,” said Sheqer slowly.

  “And the second possibility?” asked Pavel.

  “It could be that the passage is vastly more difficult. More than the gentle attentions of a High Demon await us, or additions have been made to make it that interesting due to what happened,” added the bard. As usual, Sheqer didn’t sound concerned.