My Name is Ruin

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  What he couldn’t understand was how his energy easily destroyed the spell cast against him. Unless the woman used normal magical power for the conjuration. Was the witch toying with him? He’d seen a barrier block his previous attempts and even the demon confirmed the ability of the woman to use a spell of Order.

  As he took cover behind one of the massive stone columns, he saw the barrier come into existence once again. This time, closer to the raised platform. The demoness-witch must have seen Pavel’s spells, and the Azat observed that area before the dais was clear of the swirling dust he had just raised. He threw another round of chaos spears, but this time also released a repulsing force on the ground near the platform.

  He knew he couldn’t let up and give the woman a breather. A counterspell could easily blow away the dusty murk he had created. Once the air was cleared, he would be open to attack. But the struggle had come to a predictable impasse.

  Pavel couldn’t get to the witch, short of engaging in a close quarter encounter, a situation which he conceded to be disadvantageous. He knew his martial limits, and the man didn’t know how good the witch was with her martial skills with the quarterstaff. The Azat had no plans of finding out.

  On the one hand, the barrier seemed to be the one magical spell of the witch that could withstand Pavel’s energy attacks. But her realization of the Azat’s capability to wield the power of Chaos also meant he would be Bak’s brother-in-wits if he allowed the witch to get out alive.

  The man had observed the offensive spells of the woman looked to be based on normal magical power. Not only had Pavel’s tearing apart of her ethereal lance shown it, but the counter spells she launched at the Azat harmlessly dissipated against the ancient magic of the temple’s stone. Pavel merely had to take cover behind a column, and he’d be safe from the woman’s attacks.

  He was starting to get worried about the delay in the bard’s assigned task. Enough time had passed since the magical contest had begun. At least, he could see that the protective barrier was shrinking as his magical strikes kept on trying to pierce the shield. Pavel could also see the protective disk moving as the witch adjusted its position to suit her defense.

  “You are a difficult man to kill, Azat. If you’re this much of a bother, then my congratulations to the assassins who eliminated your kind,” blurted the witch.

  The unexpected statement bothered Pavel. He could be wrong, but it indicated a relation between the witch and those who wiped out his Order. Or the knowledge could be fairly common among those of a magical bent. Magical practitioners, his mind reminded him, were inveterately fond of gossip involving their kind. It was an excellent way of keeping track of current knowledge and rivals, new or old.

  “Or your masters mistakenly overrated your capabilities,” replied the man. Though Pavel was wondering how the witch learned of his rank in the Order.

  It was an unfortunate answer. The hall immediately echoed with the sound of several large detonations around him. Pavel had no idea what spell or spells the witch had used, but they were clearly not the usual ones. The crackling sound of some definitely had an edge of lightning to them. But the man realized that the bard might be finding it difficult to do the task given to him. Pavel needed to provide Sheqer with more time.

  “I guess that group of capcaun and other creatures must be your servants. I really have to tell you that the need for new ones is in the offing,” continued Pavel.

  The need for delay and the possibility of more information now drove him. Reverting to taunts and insults might continue to do the trick. He doubted if the witch would graciously present him with a grand view of her plans. Only really moronic evil mages went on monologues about their dark intentions. The capable ones would try their best to kill you without needless grandstanding, and then call back your spirit for their gloating.

  “No need for that, my precious Azat. I have many, many more. As we speak, Gobesher and the border area would now be overrun by my pets, adding to my collection, of course,” laughed the witch, surprisingly in a normal, though high-pitched, manner. Pavel expected cackling. But the news about the assault shocked him.

  “You didn’t wait for the Moon Wolf Festival? Something bit your ass and made you impatient?” he shouted.

  “The best time was just before the festival, stupid mortal. Everybody would be busy, and the soldiers drunk. During the festival itself, the reinforced guards would be on alert and wary,” came the reply in a very smug tone. “You failed, insect. Soon, my Masters will take that first step toward a restoration of a glorious age. The Great Hunt. An empire of fire and magic will be born.”

  Damn, thought the Azat. I did fail. He should be appalled at his grievous shortcoming, but the Azat found he wasn’t. The absence of the appropriate emotions at the hugely upsetting news was yet another disturbing reaction.

  “Congratulations,” rang Pavel’s mocking reply. “But I did come for you.”

  Glorious age? Empire of fire and magic? That’s what the Oracle mentioned! I knew it! Lady Fate played me. This fucking thing is bigger than it looks. But what did I expect? There would be other surprises and if I’m going to be shocked every time that happens, then call me Bak, thought the man quickly.

  But his answer to the witch’s disclosures was yet another one that encouraged a stream of deadly spells. However, by now, the Azat was truly worried. He had not seen the bard, and more than enough time had passed. Pavel peeked out of his cover, giving the other side of the room a quick glance, while releasing his own attacks at the same time.

  Even as he felt the shock waves of his magical spears smashing against the barrier, Pavel felt a massive energy force being gathered, its locus being a location on the platform. He had no doubt it was the witch. The conjuration drew heavily on the available magic in the chamber, and then the spell was released.

  A giant form started to materialize in the middle of the space, its head almost as tall as the ceiling. But though the outline was still hazy, it was clearly of serpentine shape. Keeping an eye on the forming entity, he continued to fling spears at the barrier. In the meantime, the apparition before him continued to slowly fill out. It was a snake of some kind; the man could see that now. A reptile that had turned its head and focused its beady slits on him.

  Damn that bard! Where’s that collapse I am waiting for? fumed the Azat as he realized the danger facing them. He recognized what kind of magical creature was before him yet couldn’t remember its name and traits. What Pavel could recall was that it was a monster of the darkest pits, and only purification magic could deal with it. It was knowledge sadly and lethally absent in his repertoire.

  A quick glance and a few more spears showed a smoky haze creeping up on the laughing figure on the dais. Pavel realized that Sheqer had failed, and now the demon was going to try to directly attack the witch. At the same time, the Azat saw the size of the barrier had already been reduced to a man-sized height, barely covering the horned entity.

  That useless demon. Do I have to do everything myself? Pavel observed angrily. But even with such a conclusion, he knew Sheqer would have tried his best to force a way through the ancient magic protecting the temple. The fact that the demon was now attempting to do the dangerous thing – a direct attack on the witch – spoke of Sheqer’s desperation.

  He flung several energy attacks at the barrier again. Pavel then continued with more, but this time, he purposely missed the shield and hit the bottom of the raised platform and the wall at the witch’s back. As the demoness swayed from the shock waves, a rapid barrage cracked large pieces of rock from the wall. A large cluster of stones rained on her. An unusually large portion destroyed the throne. Pavel couldn’t see if she was struck down by the rocky deluge, though he quickly noticed that the form of the giant snake had shifted back to a silhouette in the air.

  Encouraged, he sent a few more to the disfigured wall, only to stop when he saw Sheqer’s nebulous mist quickly rushing up the stone stage. The barrier of the witch initially concealed w
hat happened, but it disappeared the moment a geyser of blood, together with a torn pair of arms rose into the air. It was a scene that made Pavel thankful again for the silent way the demon fed.

  Both the barrier and the conjured massive serpent blinked out of existence, revealing a bloody and gory mound on the dais. Sheqer was crouched on top of the disgusting mess, now in his bard form, blood covering him from head to toe. The demon was soaked in it.

  Pavel didn’t know the demon could carry out such feats of strength while in the guise he adopted, but the man was thankful that the platform was some distance away. He might be resistant to the revulsion and shock such sights usually elicited, but it didn’t mean he would go out of his way to look at them.

  ***

  The pair presently stood on the partially destroyed stone dais. As Sheqer’s practice, the messy remains of the witch was in a neat, though blood-filled, pile. Pavel could not even find the head. The demon left everything – flesh and bones – as a pulped, corpulent dump. The man assumed the wood and metal of the witch’s staff were in the gruesome mixture.

  Before the two was a circle engraved in the stone platform. It was located just behind the destroyed throne and was covered by rocks from the wall, but the demon sniffed it out and cleared the area. The arcane band was filled with sigils and incantations, but fortunately, Sheqer was able to decipher some of it.

  “A recent addition,” said the bard. “A teleportation portal.”

  “Leading where?” asked Pavel interestedly.

  He was tired, and the temporary gain in strength and stamina granted by the use of chaos power was now gone. The duo had scoured every inch of the hall, wary about other surprises. Nothing resulted from their search, though Sheqer noted that the power in the room seemed substantially depleted. The bard also told him that he underestimated the potency of the temple’s ancient magic. It was proof against demonic efforts.

  “Outside, I guess?” replied the bard to the Azat’s query. “I really have no idea. We could use it since there’s still some power in the hall, or walk back the way we came in.”

  “To your hell with it,” said Pavel. “I don’t fancy a trek back. Those vampires are still there. They might be afraid of me, but it does not prevent them from laying down traps. Or calling for reinforcements. I’d take my chances with this artifact.”

  “Fine. Though for the record, I share your sentiment,” said Sheqer, stepping into the circle. The bard now looked immaculately dressed. All the blood and pieces of flesh which decorated him were gone. Pavel, on the other hand, remained grimy from all the dust and his sweat. He hated the begrimed feeling.

  “Wait. I have to know something. Don’t activate the portal yet,” said the man. “That last conjuration the witch was trying to manifest seemed familiar to me, but I couldn’t recall the name of the creature.”

  “An arvad. She was manifesting a large one. That kind of creature is a favorite of mine. Higher-ranked demons usually have them as pets. Extremely dangerous to the occasional stupid hero or mage who couldn’t control it once introduced to this reality,” replied the demon.

  “Am I correct in saying only purification magic works against them?” asked Pavel, anxious to reassure himself that his recollection wasn’t faulty.

  “You’re right. Any wound it suffers is healed by its connection to its home dimension. You could say it’s neither here nor there. Mortals did have the most curious notions about the arvad,” mused Sheqer.

  “Some believed that the mere presence of a human held holy – by mortals themselves! Imagine that! – could drive away the creature. Saw one such attempt myself. A small arvad. It didn’t work out,” continued the bard with a meaningful grin. “The holy man poked his head in the shallow cave and lo! – a small arvad got a free meal.”

  Pavel laughed. The story might be a dark one, especially for the dead priest involved, but he had to admit it was funny. Especially the way the bard told it. He joined Sheqer in the circle.

  “By the way, you owe me one of your horns,” said Pavel casually.

  “And why is that?” replied the surprised demon immediately.

  “I did make it possible for you to consume that witch. I heard your promise, and I’ll hold you to it,” said the Azat in a serious and firm tone.

  Epilogue

  “An empire of fire and magic,”

  added the bard derisively.

  “Has a nice ring to it, though.

  If you’re a demon like me.”

  The temple portal landed them in a small cave leading out to a gorge. Pavel didn’t know where they were precisely but assumed it was still the same wilderness below the Stones of Muraybet. Two samandar guarded the hollow, and the bard again got the opportunity to feed.

  “You’re getting fat,” joked Pavel as they walked out. His hunter’s sense and the demon’s perception didn’t reveal any danger close at hand.

  “It wasn’t my fault that demoness witch made them out of hellfire. But they would have been extremely effective against other creatures, magical or not,” answered the bard.

  “I don’t think she was the one who created them, and by that, I mean the practitioner who formulated the spell. Her magical ability seemed limited to me. Except for that shield of Order, she didn’t show anything new,” remarked the Azat.

  “I’ll leave the thinking to you. Though you got some choice tidbits from her,” commented Sheqer.

  “An empire of fire and magic,” added the bard derisively. “Has a nice ring to it, though. If you’re a demon like me. Though I doubt if such a place would be ruled by demons. We’d probably end up as slaves doing the hard work. What a crock of Bak.”

  “Some information I did get. But I still have to assess whether what we heard was the deranged raving of an insane and self-absorbed cult, or something entirely different. Time will tell. We’ll encounter her so-called masters eventually,” mused the man idly.

  “So! Next question. Where to now? The border, as that delicious bitch said, is now swarming with dark creatures. That way also lies the tower and the Blood Bitch the hermit mentioned. I believe you have no intention of entering a region infested with the things or have the stomach to fight the other bitch. Your decision, oh Mighty Master; a humble servant awaits,” declared the bard.

  Pavel merely chortled. He felt so alive now that they had left the cave and the cursed temple behind. He could excuse the bard’s attempts at humor and taunts. Sheqer did make the journey less demanding with his jokes and observations. Even his irritating, snide comments hid truths in them.

  “To go north is deeper into the Kingdom of Farel where a torturer’s guest room and the headsman’s axe both wish to make our acquaintance. To Namir it is, then. I want to find Sunor. I need more training,” decided the Azat.

  “You do need more training,” remarked the bard who was rolling his eyes. “It was but demon’s luck that we got out of this affair in one piece.”

  Pavel merely nodded.

  Demon’s luck? No. I’d instead call it a chance roll of loaded dice with no telling whether it’s in our favor or not. How it would turn out next time, only Fate knows. The Lady is definitely fickle, cheats at games, and enjoys playing when the odds are stacked in her favor. My kind of girl.

  LORE and DEFINITIONS

  CHAPTER 1

  Hatu – An Akkadian word meaning “ruin” or “devastation”.

  CHAPTER 4

  Pavel – A name of Slavic origin meaning “small.” It is also used as a variation of the name “Paul” and a cognate of the Greek “Pavlos”.

  Maveth – A Hebrew word meaning “death”.

  Azat – An Armenian term denoting the rank of esquire or gentleman.

  Bohater – A Polish term meaning “hero”. Used to refer to legendary and fabled heroes.

  Sheqer – A Hebrew word meaning “deception”, or “falsehood”.

  CHAPTER 5

  Bukavac – A Serbo-Croatian mythological demonic creature.

  Pahhas – Hitt
ite word meaning “barrier.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Katarri – Known in our world as the katar, the weapon was believed to have originated in South India. The weapon’s earliest name form was likely the Tamil kaţţāri

  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katar_(dagger)

  CHAPTER 7

  Yuyukkhūra – The Sanskrit term for the crocuttas, sometimes referred to as corocotta, crutas, or leucrocotta. Various descriptions of this legendary beast exist, but this story adopted one which make a distinction between the dog-lion and dog-wolf variants. ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crocotta ).

  CHAPTER 9

  Nakh – A term used in the story to refer to melee weapons, which are extended claws affixed to a base similar to a knuckle-duster. Variations exist, but these ancient weapons are primarily used to stab and slice at close range. In our world, a similar weapon existed called the bagh nakh, vagh nakh, or vagh nakhya. It originated from India and was designed to fit over the knuckles or to be concealed under and against the palm. It consisted of four or five curved blades affixed to a crossbar or glove and was designed to slash through skin and muscle. It is believed to have been inspired by the armament of big cats, and the term bagh nakh itself means tiger’s claw in Hindi. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagh_nakh)

  CHAPTER 10

  Sidi – In our world, it means “master” in Maghrebi and Egyptian Arabic.