Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
Chapter 4
Bulwark of the Will
The ruined megalithic structure was dotted with crooked hovels. Dirty, falling apart huts, which were barely livable, let alone be named homes. Yet, no matter where they walked, terrified eyes and scared faces followed the two men. It was them and only them, who dared walk outside, climb the damaged wide staircases or explore the small plazas. The echo of their boots was trailed by a gaggle of frightful whispers, all expecting swift death to find these unnaturally brave people.
However, no matter how terrified these brutalized people were, not all of them groveled, hiding in their decrepit abodes.
Before reaching the top of this long buried, olden construction, the two witnessed one small group of locals, pilfering everything they could from the dead. Said corpses were dressed in severely damaged, old chainmail suits of armor, and appeared to be guards of sorts. Their weapons and shields lay beside, broken, chipped, and mangled – no longer of any use as armaments, but perhaps scrap metal. Bodies hewn, limbs crushed or flesh burned to death, nevertheless there was something which people as poor as these could use.
Looters would scatter, run away when caught in the act – not these wretched souls.
Instead they stood where they were, clutching on to the miserable scraps they’ve grabbed. Some had already donned whatever useful clothing the corpses had on them, be it bloodied and gored. Others were making perhaps their first steps wearing shoes, faces plastered with utter surprise. Those who, by some godly fortune had located food rations, were slowly eating their tiny bite, one guard’s portion split between a dozen people.
The two men halted and looked around, their gazes met with nigh lifeless indifference. It was almost as if these men expected to die, no matter what they did or said, no matter where they stood. The locals, and especially this lot, they looked so dilapidated and void of energy, that they wouldn’t be able to run even if they wanted to do so.
“We come with Peace.” – One of the men stated with a smile, his powerful baritone felt like a fatherly embrace.
“On my honor, I promise that we won’t hurt you my kin!” – Promised the second man, as he lifted his helmet’s visor, revealing that he was of their blood.
The doomed, indifferent gazes slowly changed into such where the sparks of mild hope could be seen. Yet, for most, it was more than enough that they weren’t killed on the spot and they crawled or limped back into their hovels, dirty hands clutching whatever it was that they’ve just obtained.
Out of the dozen or so looters, only three remained.
The armored warrior, his visor still up, sought the one, whose eyes were perhaps the most laden with hope. He knelt before the dirty, stinking to high heavens, sickly man, and said:
“Greetings! I come from Lothoria, our freed homeworld.”
Confused, the rag-wearing wretch licked his cracked lips before he asked:
“Are you t-t-talking to me?!”
“Yes and I have a question for you.”
“But... why? I am a nobody, a nothing.”
“You are only a nothing if you think that you are. Now... will you answer my question?” – Inquired the armor-clad warrior with his stern voice and after he received a nod, asked:
“Do you want to be free?”
Calm were these words spoken, yet with such powerful intent charged, that the rag-wearing man shook. His eyes filled with water and lips trembling, he mumbled:
“W-will you kill those who o-oppress us?”
Smiling, the helmeted head nodded a resounding yes.
“They keep taking everything from us, they beat us and demean us. Then there are these outlanders... they could very well slaughter us all!”
“I am not asking who is bullying you. What I need to know is your heart and soul.” – The armored warrior continued, after throwing one look at his companion.
“Who... who are you two and why have you come here?!”
“I am a young Leht, but of olden merit, and he...? He is a mighty sorcerer priest of Egypt, coming from freedom-delivering Terr’aa.” – Varen answered the man’s question quickly and without any shred of hesitation.
“E-egypt is but a legend. How could that be?!
“My knightly companion speaks true.” – Again, Kanefer’s baritone felt like a gentle, safety-promising fatherly embrace when he spoke.
“One could say that we are teachers.” – The Egyptian priest continued, while his hand produced a medispray from one of his belt pouches.
With calm movements, Kanefer injected the man, whose sickly visage was quickly gone, along with quite a lot of his years old scars. Those who still watched gasped, their eyes wide and full of surprise. A miracle it was, that the powerful would waste their time and energy to heal a pitiful, dirty serf.
“What... what is it that you teach?” – Asked the man, no longer mumbling and up on his two feet.
“Strength and Honor.” – Stated the leht his fist in the air, towering shield peacefully rested on the ground, left hand resting on its wide edge.
“Deliverance and Freedom.” – Bellowed out the priest, without any shred of fear that he might be heard or attacked, small lightnings cracking inside his eyes.
“How do I earn these?!” – With bated breath asked them the man.
“You may assume yourself weak, useless and unable to fight the outlanders. There are many ways to do battle and the noblest of these is saving lives.” – Said Kanefer and lowered his hood, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
“Deliver those who are willing to hear your warning to safety. Tell them that the outlanders are here to kill, to murder their families and friends. Assure them that these monsters have no pity, that they care not if you grovel or submit to their authority. Certain death awaits them if they chose to remain here...” – Instructed the man Varen and picked up his shield.
“I have witnessed how Schalb’s men surrendered and begged for mercy.” – The man pointed at the nearest body with shaking finger – “They were offered none... Mocked, and then slain where they stood.”
“Go now and do your duty. Waste not time and effort with bootlickers and mewling fools! Save those who are willing to be saved or risk dooming innocent and stupid alike.” – Finished his instructions the leht, and followed by the gun-wielding Egyptian, walked up the staircase, swiftly unsheathing his sword.
* * *
The two men reached a certain point, one which their eyes had scouted earlier, from the dry riverbed. Once, long ago, before everything was covered in piles of sickly dirt, this would’ve been a meditation room. Built on top of the structure, with wide open windows positioned to pick both rising and setting stars, to observe the solar or lunar cycles.
Its entrance was obscured by rubble and dirt, though the Egyptian knew where to look. Unopposed by the enemy, they quickly worked their way inside, after removing the biggest of fallen stone blocks. Muscle power and telepathic insight combined, made the otherwise hour or even day long ordeal into a mere twenty minute long effort.
Temple leht, their few narco allies, and bandit underlings had been spread too thin, trying to surround the entire hill. Such unfavorable positioning allowed warrior and priest to slip past without having to forge their way by force. It was why they wasted no time going around a village and warn people, whom neither of them knew.
“How many would you think this man could help?” – Asked Kanefer, when the two were already inside the dusty, rubble-ridden room.
“All those who are willing to believe in their future.” – Replied Varen and covered their entry point with a much smaller rock, one which they could easily roll out of their way.
“As I mentioned earlier, we can enter the Vault through Other Space or how the scientists call it, Subspace. This location is one of three proving rooms called ‘The weight of your heart.’ This is perhaps the hardest one to breach, therefore that hag avoided it like the plague. Now, stand on this slab over there, it should have the divine scales on its left corner.”
“We should capitalize on the fact that they are still wasting their time, trying to surround the hamlet.” – said Varen and followed his companion’s instruction.
“What now?” – the leht asked, his shield resting on the floor near him.
“Close your eyes and rest the mind. Your heart shall be weighed soon...” – The priest advised and knelt next to him.
Varen shut his eyes and, just as Kanefer told him, calmly sought his center. Nothing happened at first; he felt some of the tire creeping into his bones, smelled the stale air and inhaled dust. Then the young man saw tiny lights which soon grew and took his entire sight, even with both eyes tightly shut. There was a void which surrounded him and when he opened his eyes, Varen was no longer in that ruined room. It was the same place, yet different, clean and the air crisp, not a speck of dust around.
He saw a simple, bronze scale floating before him and then heard a soft voice:
“Stand tall before the scales of Truth and state your Will!”
“My intent is to ensure that Lothoria’s stolen future is restored. By will, muscle, and spirit, I am ready to give my life, but secure the Book of Herons for my kin.”
“Why do you think you are worthy of holding it?” – The mellow voice inquired, slowly becoming sterner and sterner with each uttered word.
“What I know is that I am not worthy to even lay my eyes upon it, yet...”
“Please continue.” – The one single voice modulated and split into twelve.
“I will, respectfully, ask for a chance to prove myself.”
“Warrior, if you know what your heart is, place it on the scales and let it be weighed.” – The multiple voices now echoed inside his very mind.
“My heart is who I am.” – Varen stated and imagined himself reaching with his hand towards the scales.
“I am the sum of many thoughts, memories, and was shaped by the sacrifices of others. Many have bled and walked through pain so that I can stand here. Those not of my blood, but my soul, the Terr’aans traversed the void to enable my people’s freedom. Many gave their lives so that I would have a future.”
The shape of a beating, glowing with golden light heart formed on his palm and Varen placed it on the left scale.
“We see you!” – Shouted the choir of voices both in his ears and mind.
“Lothorian, thou is a soul child of the one who spoke for Horus. Enter, for your Heart has been Weighed and found to be True!”
Varen felt weight returning to his limbs and found himself in the clean, full of crisp air room. It was in fact a mirror image of the same place he’d originally stood, though it appeared untouched by the ravages of time. He looked around, noticed Kanefer’s worried expression and reached for his sword.
“We must reach the main chamber, this is where the guardians’ sarcophagi should be.” – The priest spoke as he dashed towards a door, one which did not exist whence they came from.
“Quickly, my knightly friend, for I feel that thing is about to break its bonds! The more Bawmordah is pushing this place’s wards, trying to gain access, the harder it is for the guardians to contain it.”
“But... do you have any idea what exactly is this thing?!” – Asked Varen, who wasted not one second and ran before his companion, shield up and sword ready to do battle.
They stopped for a few seconds because Wraithbane’s blade sang. It was a wordless melody, accompanied by powerful and death promising hammer strokes. Suddenly, the two men felt as if some otherworldly power was physically wriggling, squirming to break free. So prevalent was the feeling, that Kanefer found himself smiling, before he said:
“I know not what manner of vile thing managed to breach the sanctity of this Vault, but it is wary of this blade! Look... look what is happening around us.”
Varen could now see an aura surrounding Wraithbane and them both. It pushed something much akin a blackish fog, which creeped at them from the shadowy corners. Everywhere they passed with their brisk pace, there was yet another nigh invisible cloud of lingering vileness, that the blade successfully repelled.
Hunger, they both felt it being emanated from the sword. Not of voracious, gluttonous kind, but more like the want of the dutiful father to eat, after a hard day’s work on the field. The song became louder, and if that was even possible – happier. Their steps guided by the blade’s wholesome light and Kanefer’s intimate knowledge of Egyptian temple architecture, the two men ran with haste.
It didn’t take them long to reach the chamber which the priest mentioned.
Grand were the decorations of this hall; many bass-relief were etched on wall and ceiling, intricately designed and crafted columns supported its weight. Lavish scenes from Egyptian history, heroic depictions of olden ascended herons surrounded them.
Through a blasted apart gate they stepped inside this big hall, at the center of which lay twelve sarcophagi. Made of beautiful and whitish in color metal, covered with gently shining hieroglyphs, these were positioned around a long pedestal. Upon it lay a coffer, forged from the same metal, which emitted powerful blue light. ‘Twas a shield of sorts and, its clawed hand mere inches away from opening the lid, there stood a hideous monstrum.
Warped, sharp bones stuck out from its vaguely humanoid, ten feet tall, hulkish body. Its long, segmented hands ended not with fingers but serrated claws. There were bone spikes growing from its back and the maw of this beast overflowed with sharp teeth, the size of human hands. Brownish, the creature’s covered in fish-like scales skin emitted the same vile cloud, which the Wraithbane had so far bested. It would appear that the thing’s attempt at slowly spreading its corrupting presence across the Vault was bested.
Such was the monstrum’s rage, that the two men felt waves of its anger bashing at their very minds. For a few seconds, this power began to chip away at their balance and they stumbled, their knees almost buckling before so overwhelming a force. Kanefer held his amulet and, power flowing through him, bellowed:
“Aghast you are by our presence, beast. Worry not, soon thou shalt feel nothing, for we came to slay you!”
The priest projected a barrier around him and it rapidly enveloped all twelve of the sarcophagi. For a short time there was no all-devouring hate and rage, assailing their minds. A voice, in which Varen recognized one of the guardians, spoke:
“Barely we have contained this intruder and did so, for many centuries. Yet... today is the day when our power fails, for there are other entrants clawing at the very walls of this Vault.”
“Guardian, please enlighten me, a humble priest of Ptah. What is that... thing?!”
The voice, they both felt he hesitated, as if the mere talk about that monsrum would give it more power.
“It claimed to be the ultimate Lord of some underworld and called itself a ‘daemon.’”
Varen’s armored grip of the Wraithbane strengthened and he made one step towards the harrowing being, pointing it with the sword’s tip, announcing his intent:
“Then, Guardian, you are in luck! This here blade was forged to slaughter, banish a monstrum such as it. Face the vile remnants of Rot’s unholy order, battle them outside of Other Space, as we fight this daemon in here.”
Kanefer shouldered the gun and unsheathed his golden bladed dagger, which immediately became aglow with Star Fire.
“You weighed our hearts, Guardian, you know our will!” – Avowed the priest, one hand on his djed amulet, which was now arching bolts of lighting through and from Kanefer’s body.
Twelve ghostly shapes appeared above the sarcophagi and the blue glowing shield, diminished. The lids screeched as those who rested inside were asleep no longer. With the speed that only a blessed soul, one which volunteered for this long duty could, the armored mummies arose. Weapons in hand, they marched out of the hall and a second before vanishing into Other Space, the guardian they spoke with, shouted:
“Today shall be the day when our vows are proven! Guardians of Horus, we walk into battle one last time and, if this is to be our doom, then the interlopers shan’t find us wanting...”
Eerie silence conquered the hall.
The shield’s glow flickered away and, as soon as it disappeared, the daemon’s vile presence spread. Darkly clouds attempted to smother their very breath, and a torrent of hateful rage, crush their will. No longer crisp, the air became foul and oppressive, their every breath a labor. To even lay their eyes upon the daemon was a task nigh insurmountable! Strength, it was being seeped away, stolen from their limbs and the beast visibly grew one foot taller.
The daemon’s shape began to shift; one second it was there and the next, nowhere. Overwhelming, the beast’s words hit them and pushed the two aback:
“Witless fools, I will devour your essence and grow! Die, knowing that you enabled your loved ones’ torturous ruin.”
The young Leht gnashed his teeth and even though he felt his strength waning, made another step forward. Indomitable, he aimed to block the creature’s inevitable assault with his shield, sword arm ready to strike. Wraithbane itched to bite into the daemon and this sword felt alive in Varen’s hand.
“I have trained myself long and hard to protect the ones I love. Even if I should fall, thou will never harm them!”
Kanefer unleashed more of his telepathic power, shrouded himself and his brother in arms with a shimmering, lightning field. The priest quickly recovered his lost focus and bested the debilitating effects of the daemon’s wretched presence. His feet levitated a foot above the floor and eyes turned hot white, impossible for a mere mortal to look into without protection.
“Together, me and my Lothorian brother are a bulwark! We will not relent until you lay bones broken, teeth shattered, and flesh eviscerated. Not once had a priest of Ptah suffered the likes of you, and I won’t break our hallowed tradition!”
Not the daemon, but the mortals charged first, and soon a mighty clash shook the Vault entire.
However mighty, the beast does not seem invulnerable. Mayhap the olden Bulgarian sword, the Wraithbane, it was the key to victory? That or the telepathic prowess of Kanefer, a most stalwart Egyptian priest, perhaps his abilities could best that daemon? You will discover this and many other things in the next episode ’Olden doom.’
***
You can find this and many more stories in my 2nd Anthology collection, The Blood Of Tyrants.
Great excerpt!