The HaRT Knight Decaverse

The Call of Corruption

City of Blood

Searing heat caressed Cain’s skin and a confusing maelstrom of information flooded his mind as he regained consciousness in the middle of the inferno. Thick smoke hung in the air and attempted to fill his lungs. Confused and disoriented, it took him a few seconds after opening his eyes to piece together what was happening. A stream of blood flowed from the crest of his skull and into his right eye as he sat, tied to a chair in the middle of a house being consumed by ravenous flames. The smell of roasting pork and beef caused his stomach to rumble, but as he turned his head towards the source, he retched at the sight. The flames devoured the carcass of a dead creature composed of several body parts from dead cows and pigs, all sewn together to resemble the shape of a man.
“What?” Cain coughed. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
“I CAN HELP WITH THAT,” a high-pitched voice said from somewhere behind him. It was a testament to how disturbing that voice was that the sound of it chilled Cain to the bone while in the middle of an inferno. He struggled to look over his shoulder to see who, or what, had just spoken; but, the next moment, images flashed before his eyes, and his head threatened to explode.
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The rain streamed down on the world below, soaking Cain to the bone. The thick woolen cloak he wore was twice as heavy as normal, and yet, the river of water around his ankles did little to wash away the mud covering his boots. It had been a miserable morning on the road, but Cain still had no intention to use magic to keep himself dry or his boots clean. It would have been a simple spell, the sort he could perform in his sleep since he was a teenager, but difficulty had nothing to do with his stubborn refusal to use his magic. He had not cast a single spell since he had left home—or more accurately, since his father had kicked him out. It was because of his resentment towards his father that he refused to acknowledge the blood—and the power inside it—that bound them.
Cain shook his head as if to shake the memories of his family out of his mind, and in doing so, he glimpsed a man on a horse-drawn cart approaching from behind. The little roof of fabric over the man’s cotton white hair meant he did not look like the corpse of a drowned man—unlike Cain.
“Ahoy, boy,” the man said as he pulled his cart up next to Cain who had stepped aside for it to pass.
“Good day, sir,” Cain said politely but without looking at the stranger.
“It is not. It’s a miserable, wet day. But we shouldn’t complain, should we? Rain is good for the crops. Not so good for people, though. Come on, get on.” The man gestured to the seat next to him.
“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary,” Cain said.
“Don’t be silly. The closest city is Lazhaden, and it’s in the opposite direction. Even if you were going the right way, you wouldn’t get there for another day. You’ll drown long before that. I can’t very well let you do that. You’ll stay with my wife and me at our farm tonight. It’s not that far from here.”
Cain raised a questioning eyebrow at the man. He was old and weather-beaten, but he had a friendly smile that spread to his eyes.
“Come on, lad. I won’t take no for an answer, and the longer you argue, the closer I get to drowning. Do you want the death of an old man on your conscience?”
Cain had to admit, getting out of this rain would be a dream come true, and the old farmer seemed like a good and trustworthy man. He sighed in acquiescence and handed the old man his pack before hoisting himself onto the seat. “Thank you,” he said, and his tone of voice sounded a little awkward even to his ears.
“Don’t mention it. By the way, my name is Aristocles. But everyone around here calls me Ari.” The farmer spurred the horse into a trot, and after a few moments of silence, he added, “How about you? Got a name of your own?”
“Cain,” he said.
“Good to meet you,” Ari said. “I hope you like pork stew; my wife will have a nice warm bowl of it for us once we reach the farm.”
Confused by this extreme form of altruism and trust, Cain asked, “Do you often pick up strangers on the side of the road and take them home for dinner?”
“I would be lying if I said you were the first person we’ve ever taken in, but I wouldn’t say it’s a habit.”
“You’re very trusting,” Cain remarked.
Ari gave him a confused look. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Aren’t you afraid I might kill you and your wife and make off with your possessions?”
Ari laughed. “We have little worth stealing, so I doubt we’re worth killing. At least if we’re alive, there is someone to feed you.” The old farmer gave him a perspicacious look before he added, “Something tells me you’re not used to being treated with kindness.”
“I suppose I’m not.” Cain shrugged. “I never received it from my family. That makes it all the odder to receive it from a stranger.”
His father had always despised him for some unknown reason, despite the fact that Cain, alone of King Able’s sons, kept to the ancient and unspoken law of their people that said, ‘The magic power natural in the blood of Angelians means they should serve, not rule, protect, not oppress.’
“Don’t get along with the family?” Ari asked. “I know a bit about that myself.”
“I’m sorry,” Cain said.
Ari gave a forced smile, and to change the subject, asked, “So where are you headed?”
“I don’t have a particular destination in mind,” Cain said.
Ari nodded. “Looking for the place you belong in the world.”
“You can say that,” Cain said. “The place I always thought I belonged turned out not to be the right place.”
“That why you don’t get on with your family?”
“In truth, I have no idea why my family despises me. But yes, their rejection of me is the reason I am here.” Not that rejection is the right word, Cain thought. More like banishment. It had been two years since the king finally found an excuse to banish him. He shook his head again and said, “Now I don’t know where to go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, my boy. Family shouldn’t make you feel like you have to deserve their love,” Ari said as he steered the cart off the main road.
The two of them sat in silence for the rest of the brief journey to the farmhouse. It was a quaint home, a single-story wooden house with a comfortable and welcoming appearance. Ari pulled the cart into the barn and Cain helped him to unsaddle the horse and rub it down.
“I think it would be best if you leave those boots of yours here. My wife might cry if you bring that mud in with you,” Ari said, taking his boots off.
Now barefoot, they ran towards the front door of the farmhouse. Here, they wiped their feet on a carpet made from the skin of what Cain assumed to be a wolf Ari had killed to protect his livestock.
The inside of the house was every bit as comfortable as it had appeared from the outside. A crackling fire burned beneath an enormous metal pot that gave off a delicious scent of stew. Ari’s wife stood in the kitchen, cutting carrots and humming a tune. She was a short, plump woman with graying hair tied back in a tight bun. She kissed Ari in greeting before turning a curious smile on Cain.
“This is Cain. I found him wandering down the road,” Ari said to his wife.
“On foot? Goodness me, you would have caught your death of cold long before reaching anywhere dry,” she said.
“That’s what I said,” Ari agreed. “Cain, this is my wife: Hestia.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Cain bowed.
“Oh, dear me, so charming,” Hestia giggled. She moved over to Cain and took off his cloak. “Look at you, dear; your clothes are wet all the way through. You must be freezing.”
Cain was just about to say he was fine and that there was no reason to fuss over him, when Ari said, “Perhaps some of Luke’s old clothes might fit him.”
“I don’t know,” Hestia said with only the slightest of hesitations at hearing the name. “He’s more muscular than Luke ever was. But let’s see what we can find. I might do something with a needle and thread.”
Before Cain could say anything to protest, Hestia took him by the arm with a grip firmer than the dainty grandmotherly woman had a right to possess. She dragged him down a hallway with three doors and into the second room. It was obvious at a cursory glance that it had been a long time since anyone had been in the room. It was clean, but it had that cold aura possessed by abandoned things.
Like me, Cain thought.
Hestia forced him onto the bed and moved over to the small wardrobe in the corner. She pulled out several pieces of clothing, shaking her head every time, until she found a tunic that might barely fit over Cain’s neck. She held it up to measure it on him and shook her head again. “Oh my, those shoulders of yours won’t fit. I think the only thing to do is to tear the sleeves off until I can work on a better solution.”
“Won’t your son mind?” Cain asked.
Hestia’s face fell. She shook her head. “Luke doesn’t visit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cain said, remembering what Ari had said about knowing what it was like to have troubles with his family.
“Ari doesn’t talk about it, but Luke left us about a year ago. He and his father had a big fight, and he just left,” Hestia said, her eyes filling with tears at the memory. She pulled at the sleeves of the tunic with no result.
Gently, Cain took the tunic from her. “If I may ask, what did they fight over?”
“Luke grew into a rather angry man. He resented us for never being able to give him the same sort of life the children in the city had. One day, he had had enough. He said he would not waste his life as Ari did by being a poor farmer, and he would make something of himself, unlike us. He left and joined the city guard in Lazhaden.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cain said as he tore the sleeves of the tunic off with no effort.
“Someday he’ll realize his mistake. I’m sure of it,” Hestia said, a tear rolling over her cheek. She smiled at Cain as he put the tunic on. It was still tight around his chest, but at least it was dry. Hestia gave him a pair of woolen trousers and took a few other clothes before leaving the room. As she left, she said, “Once you’re dressed, bring your wet clothes, and we’ll dry them out by the fire. You can sleep here tonight after you’ve had a few bowls of nice warm stew.”
Once she left the room, Cain pulled off his old wet pair of trousers before pulling on the dry ones. They were snug, but not so much that would tear if he were to bend over.
He left the room and hung his wet trousers with his other clothes near the fireplace before taking a sat at the small table in the kitchen where Ari was already waiting, a smoking pipe in his hand. Cain listened in silence as the old farmer told his wife about the news he had learned when in the city that day. They tried to include Cain in the conversation, but he never replied with more than a few words. The more he talked, the greater the chance of him saying something he shouldn’t. Like who he was.
The food was remarkable, even better than anything the chefs back home had ever prepared. The comforting warmth of the stew filled Cain’s body and chased away the cold the rain had put in his muscles. Only after his fourth bowl, when Hestia moved to serve him a fifth, did he politely refuse.
After supper, Hestia said goodnight and went off to bed. Ari, however, took a seat in the sitting room, packing his pipe with tabaco. The farmer gestured for Cain to take a seat in a chair near the fire.
An ancient-looking dog appeared from somewhere down the hall. It gave Cain a long look, as if trying to figure out if he had seen this guest of his owner’s before now. In the end, it seemed the dog decided he didn’t care, and he put his head on Cain’s lap. Cain smiled at this and rubbed the dog behind its ears. It gave only a slight wave of the tail to show its approval at this.
“He likes you,” Ari said, lighting his freshly packed pipe with a twig from the fire.
“Hmm,” Cain grunted in reply. he wasn’t surprised. All non-magical animals were comfortable around Angelians.
“My wife seems to rather fond of you too. Says you remind her of our son. Though I can’t say I see any resemblance,” Ari said.
“You have both been very kind to me tonight. I am thankful to you both,” Cain said, but Ari waved his thanks aside. “I will not impose on your hospitality. Once the sun rises, I’ll be on my way.”
“Your way?” Ari raised an eyebrow at this. “I thought you said you did not know where you were heading.”
“I don’t,” Cain admitted.
“Then how can you be on your way if you don’t have one?” The farmer puffed at his pipe, his voice soft and caring.
Cain looked at Ari in confusion. He wasn’t sure how to reply to that.
The old farmer sat back and staring into the fire, he said, “My father was like you. He spent much of his life looking for the place he belonged. As a boy, he always told me stories of all the places he had visited.”
“What did he find?” Cain asked.
“In his own words. ‘That we belong where we are the happiest.’ He found that happiness here, on this farm, with my mother. He always said the greatest adventures he had ever had could not compare with the excitement of looking into my mother’s eyes.”
“That is very sweet,” Cain smiled.
Ari nodded. “He said that to feel like you belong somewhere in the world is all a matter of how you think. You don’t need to cross oceans or climb mountains to find the place you belong; all you need to do is stand still. Once you do, you will realize you have spent most of your life wandering in search of something you have always already had. You belong where you decide you belong.”
“Your father sounds like he was a sagacious man,” Cain said.
“Sag—what?” Ari asked.
“I mean, he was a wise man,” Cain said.
“Ah. Well, yes, he was,” Ari nodded. “He always said that lesson was the most important one he could ever teach me. While I have never found a need for it, perhaps it was a lesson passed on to me so I could pass it on to you,” Ari said. “My father found his answers on this farm; perhaps you can find yours here as well.”
“What do you mean?” Cain asked.
“What I’m saying is: you are welcome to stay here with us until you’ve found your answers. I could use the help, and in exchange, Hesti and I will make sure you have a roof over your head and warm food in your belly.”
Cain thought about this for a moment. He had no better place to go, and Ari and his wife were kind people. It might be a good place to stay, for a while at least. There was just one problem with it, “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help with the work. I’ve never worked on a farm before.”
“This isn’t reading and writing my boy. With muscular arms like yours, I’d say you’re more than qualified to do the work.” Ari gave him a kind smile and slapped him on the shoulder as he got up from his chair. “Get a good night’s sleep. If tomorrow you still want to leave, no one will stop you.”
Ari put his pipe in his pocket and left down the hall to go to bed.
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The visions from the past stopped, and Cain’s body convulsed. He breathed hard, and his vision swam in and out of focus.
“DO YOU REMEMBER NOW?” asked that same terrible voice from before.
“What did you do to me?” Cain asked the empty room.
“YOU ASKED WHERE YOU WERE. SO, I HELPED YOU REMEMBER,” the voice said from somewhere in the fire. Squinting, Cain thought he saw something move in the flames.
“What are you?” he asked.
The thing cackled, the sound of it left a high-pitched rhythmic pulse behind and caused Cain to shiver. The next moment, the silhouette of a man stepped forward out of the flames.
“YOU’RE NOT ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS,” said the voice, now coming from the fiery figure. The thing walked across the room, its every step leaving a scorched footprint on the wooden floor. As it came near Cain, it bent over and said, “THE QUESTION YOU SHOULD ASK IS: ‘WHY DID I ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?’”
“What?” Cain said in confusion. “Let? I didn’t let any of this happen. That monster—”
The thing in the fire cut across him, “—WAS NOTHING COMPARED TO YOU. IF YOU WANTED, YOU COULD HAVE DESTROYED IT WITH A SNAP OF YOUR FINGERS.”
“No, I couldn’t,” Cain protested.
“I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, CAIN ANGELUS. YOU MAY HAVE HIDDEN IT FROM THE FARMER AND HIS WIFE, BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE IT FROM ME.” The figure brought its flaming hand close to Cain’s face in a gesture as if to caress it. “ANGELIAN.” The word echoed through the burning house long after it had been spoken. “YOUR RACE IS THE MOST POWERFULLY MAGIC IN ALL THE TEN WORLDS. INSIDE YOU LIES ENOUGH POWER TO DESTROY CITIES.” It pointed a flaming finger at the dead monster. “AND NOW YOU’RE JUST SITTING HERE, WAITING TO DIE. PATHETIC.”
“What do you know?” Cain snarled at the thing. “You’re probably just a hallucination brought on from the hit I took to my head.”
Despite the raging inferno around him, a chill ran down Cain’s spine. Silent, the thing in the fire leaned forward and brushed the back of its hand over Cain’s cheek. Agony far greater than even fire could produce caused him to scream.
“DOES THAT FEEL LIKE A HALLUCINATION TO YOU?” it asked.
Even compared to the agony of the flames, the thing’s touch was far worse. It was like swallowing bile while snorting glass.
“YOU KNOW I AM REAL. DEEP DOWN, THE MOST PRIMAL PART OF YOU EVEN KNOWS WHO I AM,” the thing said.
Cain breathed hard as he stared into the fiery abyss that was the thing’s body. He did not want to believe it, but he knew it was true.
“SAY IT!” In a calm tone, it added, “NAME ME.”
“You are He Who Slumbers. The great evil beneath the roots of the world bearing tree,” Cain said.
“YES,” it purred. “BUT NOT ALL OF ME. A SPARK COMPARED TO THE SUN THAT IS MY TRUE BRILLIANCE. A WALKING DREAM AS MY TRUE SELF SLUMBERS. I AM THE AKA-MANAH, SUMMONED HERE BY MY FOLLOWERS—MY CHILDREN. BECAUSE OF YOU.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Cain countered.
“EXACTLY,” the living nightmare said. “YOU’VE DONE NOTHING. YOU ALLOWED YOURSELF TO BECOME A MAN OF INACTION.”
“What are you talking about?” Cain said.
“DO NOT PRETEND WITH ME!” the Aka-Manah shrieked and the sound of its voice seemed to cut into Cain’s mind, causing his vision to go out of focus once again.
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“Who’s the new boy, Ari? He’s strong as an ox,” the old tavern owner named Shep said as Cain and Ari unloaded the barrels filled with Hestia’s apple cider. Cain carried a barrel on each shoulder while the old men had to carry one between them.
“This is Cain. He’s been helping Hestia and me around the farm the last few weeks. He’s a good hard worker,” Ari said.
“Doesn’t say much though, does he?” the old man remarked.
“Nah, he’s the strong silent type,” Ari said as they put the barrels down behind the bar of the tavern.
“I’ll fetch the remaining two,” Cain said.
“Thank you, my boy,” Ari said as he rubbed his back.
“Come on, I’ll pour you a drink to help for the pain,” Shep said to Ari.
“I rarely drink this early in the day, but I think I might make an exception this once,” Ari laughed.
Cain raised an eyebrow at this but did not comment. It was very unlike the old farmer to drink this early in the day. The man Cain had gotten to know over the last few weeks was rigid in his beliefs, one of which was that you did not drink as long as there is still work to do. Then again, Ari wasn’t the only person swept up in the desire for a drink.
Odd, it’s not normal for a tavern to have such a large and boisterous clientele this early in the morning, Cain thought as he looked around the packed tavern. He shook his head and pressed a finger to his right ear. A high-pitched humming came from somewhere and seemed to drill into his head.
Cain had to squint as he stepped outside to fetch the last two barrels. The light of the sun seemed twice as bright as before. Something isn’t right here, he thought, looking up and down the street. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Lazhaden was eerily quiet. There were people in sight, not even an animal, except for the horse tied to Ari’s cart.
“We need to get out of here,” Cain said to himself. He didn’t even know why he said it, but the second he did, he knew he was right. Lazhaden was not safe.
He lifted the last two barrels on his shoulders and made his way back into the tavern. Ari laughed at something Shep said as the tavern owner pushed a third tankard past the farmer’s empty two. When Cain put the barrels down, he placed a hand on Ari’s shoulder and said, “I think we should get going. We still have a lot of work to do at the farm.”
“In a bit, my boy. Come on, sit for a moment. Have a drink,” Ari said.
This isn’t like him. Cain thought. Even more disconcerting was the fact that he found the offer to sit and have a drink to be enticing. I don’t even drink. There’s no point, I can’t get drunk and I hate the taste.
A sudden rush of claustrophobia overcame Cain and he stammered, “No. I think I’ll wait outside.”
“As you wish,” Ari said. “I’ll just finish this drink and I’ll be right with you.”
Cain nodded and made his way out of the tavern. He pinched the bridge of his nose; the constant high-pitched humming kept growing louder and his head threatened to crack open like an egg. His mouth felt dry; it had since Ari offered him a drink. A chill ran down Cain’s spine as a dreadful thought occurred to him.
He exhaled and noticed his breath was fogging—here, mid-morning in the middle of summer. His suspicions grew ever firmer as he noticed the black and red flowers that grew around the dead oak-tree in the middle of the nearby park.
His legs moved before he even thought to act. He made his way over to the park and knelt down to examine the flowers. What he saw caused all the warmth to leave his body. The flowers were Bloody Nightshade, plants that grew only under very specific conditions. As if he needed more proof of what was already clear, he picked up one of the fallen acorns from the tree. It crumbled in his fingers to reveal hundreds of worms devouring it.
My headache, Bloody Nightshade, unnatural cold, lack of animals, and the gluttonous behavior of the people, all of it points to one thing: The corruptive presence of powerful black magic.
“Where did you get that cloak?” a snide voice said behind him.
Cain hadn’t noticed anyone approach him; he had been too overcome with dread. Slowly, he got to his feet and turned to the man who had spoken to him. He was a young guardsman with an arrogant look on his face.
“Well, answer me,” the guardsman demanded.
“It was a gift,” Cain said, his calm voice not betraying his inner dread or irritation with the man.
“From whom?” the guardsmen pressed.
“Why does this matter?”
“Because that coat was once mine,” the guardsmen said.
Realization dawned. Now that Cain focused on it, he noticed the resemblance between the man and Ari. They had the same nose, jawline, and even—Cain froze for a second as his eyes fell on the man’s hands. Scars in the shape of pentacles adorned his palms. His voice now cold, Cain said, “I take it you’re Luke.”
“Yes,” Luke nodded. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been helping your father on the farm. He gave me some of your old clothes to wear.”
“He’s still able to provide people with only the finest things in life, I see,” Luke sneered.
“Your father is a good man.” Cain nodded at Luke’s scarred palms and added, “Clearly a lot better than you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Luke bristled.
“You’re a fool,” Cain said, his anger rising. “I would have given all the privileges in the world to have been blessed with a father like yours. And you, you threw him away for this vile, unnatural semblance of power.”
“Listen here, you arrogant vagabond. I am a city guardsman. You will speak to me with respect. Is that clear?”
“People who indulge in an unholy act like blood magic don’t deserve respect.” Luke paled at the mention of blood magic. He opened his mouth to argue, but Cain cut him off, “You think I don’t know what those scars on your hands mean? You think I haven’t noticed the corruption in the air of this city?”
“That is a serious accusation to make against the city guard,” Luke snarled.
As if he couldn’t care less what Luke had to say, Cain stared at their surroundings. “The corruption is too widespread and powerful for just you. I assume you are part of an entire cult. Is the rest of the city guard part of it?” Cain remarked.
“You’re some stray my father picked up to make you into the poor farmer he wanted to transform me into. Don’t go talking about things you don’t understand,” Luke warned, a dagger now in his hand.
Cain did not care about the blade, but its hilt made him sick. It looked like the knotted roots of a plant. “I understand more than you, you foolish child. I understand who you serve.” Cain held up his right hand and conjured sparks between his fingers, intending to strike Luke down. The arrogant sneer on the guardsman’s face vanished and he took three steps back, his eyes wide with shock. “That weapon’s hilt marks you as a follower of He Who Slumbers, the greatest evil in all reality. Do you think serving a master like that won’t come at a cost?”
“Cain?” Ari called from across the street. The old farmer staggered, barely able to remain upright. When he realized who Cain was talking to, the farmer fell to the ground. “Luke? Son?”
The expression of pure hatred Luke gave his father almost caused Cain to lose control and kill the boy where he stood. But he didn’t. It wasn’t really his emotions and instincts that urged him to act, but the evil magic in the air. He took a step forward and gave Luke a look of deep dislike as he said, “I should kill you here and now. If only to stop you from further profaning your father’s blood. But I won’t; for the kindness he has shown me, I won’t take the life of his son.”
Cain made to walk away, but paused as something flickered in Luke’s eyes. It was so fast it was almost imperceptible, but Cain had gotten a glimpse. A momentary gleam of triumph. Did I imagine it? Cain wondered as he strode over to the drunken farmer. Never mind. We just need to get out of this city as fast as possible and never come back.
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“YOU SEE? YOU CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING FROM ME. YOU SENSED MY PRESENCE IN THE CITY. YOU EVEN NOTICED MY MARK ON LUKE, AND YET, YOU DID NOTHING,” the Aka-Manah said. “YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED ALL OF THIS, BUT YOU DIDN’T.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t want to kill him because I didn’t want to hurt Ari or Hestia any more than Luke already had,” Cain said.
“THAT’S A LIE. YOU DID NOTHING BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T CARE ENOUGH TO WANT TO DO ANYTHING.”
“What do you want?” Cain yelled. “What are you even doing here?”
“I’M HERE BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO GET UP!” it yelled and the fire that made up its body flared. “TO SHOW YOU HOW SELFISH YOU’RE BEING BY JUST SITTING HERE AND WAITING TO DIE.”
“Selfish?” Cain said in astonishment.
“YES, SELFISH!” the Aka-Manah’s faceless head was inches away from Cain’s now. “ALL YOU EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOUR FATHER TO ACCEPT YOU. YOU MAY NEVER HAVE GOTTEN THAT FROM KING ABLE, BUT YOU FOUND IT HERE. YOU FOUND ACCEPTANCE AND LOVE HERE.”
A tear ran down Cain’s cheek, leaving a cold trail on his hot skin. This thing might be the embodiment of evil, but it was still right. Ari and Hestia had taken him in and shown him acceptance and love, the sort he had never gotten from his actual family. They had given him the things he had always wanted most from his father but had never gotten, and now, they needed him.
“You’re right,” Cain said. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the Aka-Manah. “Luke is your servant. Why would you want me to stop him?”
“I POSSESS SIGNIFICANT POWER, BUT I CAN’T CHOOSE WHO SERVES ME. BESIDES, LUKE AND HIS BLOOD MAGE FRIENDS DON’T WANT TO SERVE ME. THEY WANT TO USE ME. TO USE MY POWER.” The fire around Cain seemed to grow even hotter with the obvious anger in the Aka-Manah’s voice as it spoke of being used. “I NEED THEM TO BE PUNISHED. YOU NEED TO SAVE THE FARMER AND HIS WIFE. OUR GOALS ALIGN. NOW, ARE YOU GOING TO GO OR NOT?”
Cain remained silent for a long moment as he stared at the Aka-Manah. I can’t trust it. But it is right. I need to save Ari and Hestia. With no effort at all, Cain broke the ropes binding him.
“GOOD,” Aka-Manah purred, stepping back into the flames, its body becoming part of them once again. As it vanished, its voice echoed through the house one last time, “NOW, GO.”
With magic protecting him, Cain walked through the inferno towards the front door and kicked it so hard it flew off its hinges and through the air before crashing down near three of the men responsible for tonight’s events.
They were frozen in fear as Cain, his blue eyes glowing with magic, walked out of the burning building. He gripped the front of his flame covered tunic and tore the cloth from his body and threw it to the side.
“What is he?” one man asked.
The man never got an answer. Before he or any of his friends could move, Cain covered the distance between them to stand right in front of them. He grabbed one by the neck and lifted him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. He punched the second man into the third and sent them both flying a few feet before a tree got in the way. Cain slammed the man he was holding by the throat to the ground, holding back only enough of his strength to be sure not to kill him, but still using enough to knock him unconscious and break several bones.
He carried the limp form to the other two unconscious men beside the tree and conjured a rope to bind them all to it.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? KILL THEM,” the voice of the Aka-Manah said, emanating from a nearby mass of shadow, darker than the surrounding blackness of night.
“There is no need for me to kill them,” Cain said.
“OF COURSE, THERE IS. IT’S CALLED REVENGE,” Aka-Manah said.
Cain shook his head. “I don’t want revenge. All I want is to save Ari and Hestia.”
“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOUR MOTIVATIONS ARE, BUT YOU HAVE TO KILL THESE MEN. THEY’RE DANGEROUS,” the voice moved from one ear to the other as it spoke. “DO IT, KILL THEM.”
“No!” Cain forced himself to calm down before he added, “I don’t have time to argue with you. I need to save Ari and Hestia. When this is done, I’ll come back for these men and take them to the capital for imprisonment.”
“NO, THAT WON’T BE ENOUGH. YOU MUST KILL THEM. THEY DESERVE TO DIE,” Aka-Manah said.
Cain ignored it and turned to face the city. For the first time since his banishment, he reached inside himself and brought forth his stores of magical energy forcing it into physical form. He formed them into crystalline disks that he stacked one over the other behind himself until finally two wings took shape. Once more looking like the angelian he was, he opened his crystalline wings wide, and in a gust of wind, took off into the air, leaving the burning farmhouse, the unconscious blood mages, and the Aka-Manah behind.
As he soared through the air, Cain had to admit, it felt good to acknowledge this side of himself again. Not until this moment had he noticed how much he had missed it. The journey that had taken him and Ari hours to complete with the horse-drawn cart, he now managed in a matter of minutes. However, the closer he drew to the city, the more he noticed an uneasy sensation near his heart. The evil aura of Lazhaden was downright palpable now; so much so it caused his stomach to churn and a cold sweat to break out across his skin. When he became lightheaded, he decided it would be safer to land. He came down on a cliff overlooking Lazhaden and went down to all fours as he breathed hard.
“IT’S A LITTLE OVERWHELMING, ISN’T IT?” the Aka-Manah said.
“You’re still here,” Cain said without looking up.
“YOU DIDN’T THINK YOU COULD GET RID OF ME THAT EASY, DID YOU?”
Cain didn’t bother to reply. He was too focused on getting himself under control again. After several long moments of shivering and dry heaving, he asked, “This presence, is it you?”
“YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?” the Aka-Manah said, sounding affronted. “WHAT YOU’RE SENSING IS MAN-MADE. THEY MIGHT HAVE DONE THIS IN MY NAME, BUT I NEVER ASKED FOR IT.”
“Done what?”
“LOOK FOR YOURSELF.” It pointed at the city below.
Unsure if he wanted to see this, Cain approached the edge tentatively. He backed away quickly and fell to his knees again. This time, he retched.
Literal rivers of blood flowed down the streets of Lazhaden, springing forth from the islands of corpses stacked on every corner. The blood mages responsible for the slaughter—the scars on their bodies seeming to glow silver beneath the light of the full moon—were so high on their own evil they danced naked in the blood, fornicated wherever they found the opportunity, and laughed through it all.
Cain remained where he sat on the ground. His breathing was out of control, his body shook, and his vision swam in and out of focus.
“DO YOU SEE NOW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT? THESE MEN AND WOMEN ARE BEYOND REDEMPTION. THE STAIN OF EVIL IS TOO GREAT ON THEIR SOULS.”
Each breath Cain took echoed in his ears like windstorms. “I—I did this,” he stammered. “I could have stopped them. Back at the farm. I—” he trailed off as he fell to the side, darkness swallowing him whole.
                                                                                               #
As Cain came into the house, he took a deep breath of the mingling of aromas from Hestia’s delicious cooking. Onion soup bubbled in the enormous metal pot and peppered mutton roasted over the hearth. It had been a long and trying day, and after the excitement of the city, and having to come back to the farm and do all the chores himself, he was more than ready to get some hot food in his belly and a soft pillow beneath his head.
The scruffy old dog called Rock gave two lazy waves of his tail as Cain put his boots next to the door. He grinned at the creature and bent to rub it behind the ears before going to sit at the table in the kitchen. Ari was already there, looking sick, and a little terrified. The reason for the old farmer’s terror was clear. Hestia was beyond livid.
“How many times do I have to apologize? I don’t know what got into me,” Ari said.
“About half a barrel of mead,” Hestia snapped at him. “If getting drunk at the start of the day wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t even remember to get paid for the cider.” She turned on her husband and pointed at him with a cleaver. “And I’m telling you this, Aristocles, you had better go get the money Shep owes us, or how you feel now will be a fond memory compared with how I’ll make you feel for the rest of your life.”
“No,” Cain snapped. Both Ari and Hestia looked at him with wide-eyed shock.
“What do you mean, no?” Hestia asked, a bit of the danger that had been in her voice when chastising her husband now present as she spoke to Cain.
“Sorry. It’s just—” he trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. He had known he would need to tell both Hestia and Ari the truth about what had happened in the city that morning, but he couldn’t come up with a way of doing so. To tell them the truth of what was going on in the city, he would have to tell them the truth about who he was. It would mean admitting to them he had been lying since meeting them. He stared into Hestia’s soft motherly eyes. As he spoke, it was with trepidation, “We just can’t go back to that city. Ever.”
“Why not?” Hestia asked.
Cain struggled to find the right words again. Ari gave him a knowing look and said, “Is this because of Luke?”
“Luke?” Hestia’s face fell at the mention of her son. “You saw Luke today?”
“Yes.” Ari said. “He spoke to Cain. It looked heated. I assume he threatened you and that’s why you don’t want to go back.”
“No, that’s not it,” Cain assured them. “It’s not Luke, it’s the entire city. Lazhaden isn’t a good place.”
Ari gave a barking laugh at this. “You sound like my father. That old misanthrope always hated the city.”
“That’s not what this is about.” Cain sighed. There was no way around it anymore. Ari and Hestia deserved to know the truth. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it, dear?” Hestia asked as she came to sit at the table. She placed a tender hand on Cain’s forearm. It was almost enough to make him burst out in tears.
“I need to tell you what I am,” Cain said. His entire body went icy. He opened his mouth and said, “I’m an—” Before he could finish, a terrible cacophony of high-pitched squealing from outside cut him off. Rock leaped to its feet and ran to the door. It clawed at it, whimpering all the time with its tail between its legs.
Ari got to his feet and said, “Something’s wrong with the pigs.”
A chill ran down Cain’s spine and he leaped up and took out a hawthorn twig he had collected earlier that day. He snapped the fingers of his right hand, and the twig in his left caught on fire. His stomach tied itself into knots as the smoke from the twig fell to the ground, pooling around his feet. Black magic was in the air.
Ari swore and clutched his hand close to his chest. “The dog bit me.”
Rock, whom Ari had attempted to pull away from the door, snarled as foam dripped from its mouth.
“We need to get out of here. Now!” Cain yelled.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Hestia asked, the beginnings of hysteria in her voice.
“There’s no time to explain, just trust me!” Cain shouted as he pushed open the door and the dog set off running.
Ari and Hestia followed Cain out into the night air.
“What’s going on?” Ari asked.
Before Cain even opened his mouth to reply, something hit him from the side and flung him to the ground a few feet away. His head spun, but Hestia’s scream of terror snapped him back into focus. He leaped up to fight, but froze at what he saw before him.
A monster as tall as the farmhouse’s roof stood over Hestia and Ari. The thing was terrible. It comprised blood covered body parts of several animals. The cow’s head that made up the thing’s right shoulder bellowed in pain. The monster grabbed Hestia and lifted her off the ground. Ari tried to attack, but the beast of blood didn’t even notice. It lifted Hestia into the air and slammed her on the ground. Her screams that were now silent left a deafening emptiness in the air. Ari cried in agony, and the creature threw Hestia’s limp body at the farmer with such force they both flew backward until they hit a wooden post a few feet away.
“No!” Cain yelled.
The creature turned to face him with its dead eyes. It bellowed with rage before it charged. Cain braced himself for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he heard a voice call, “Stop.”
The monster froze in its tracks, its disfigured face inches from Cain’s. Like a cat that had lost interest in the mouse it had been playing with, the monster slunk to the side and curled up in a ball.
Cain turned to face the man who had spoken. From out of the shadows, torches were lit, one after the other, revealing men and women who wore the bare minimum of clothes, yet still hid their identities with masks made from the deformed skulls of unknown creatures. With their torsos exposed, the pentacles they had carved into their own skin were visible for all to see.
Cain, clenching his jaw tight, shot a glance at the limp forms of Ari and Hestia.
“There is no need to worry about them. Not yet, at least,” a voice said from beneath one mask. “I ordered the blood demon to ensure it did not kill them. I need them alive for the ritual.”
“Why hide your face, Luke?” Cain snarled.
“Oh, come now. Earlier today you acted as if you knew everything about blood magic. The masks are all part of the ritual. As are my parents now,” Luke said.
“You want to kill your mother and father?”
“Naturally. Why do you sound so surprised? You’re the one who gave me the idea after all,” Luke said.
“I did no such thing,” Cain protested.
“Of course, you did. Remember, you said I was profaning my father’s blood.” Luke lifted his hand to show the fresh cut on the palm of his hand. “Well, if my blood is my father’s blood, then his blood is mine.”
“No,” Cain whispered in horrible realization.
“Yes, you see now. Blood magic is at its strongest when the blood used is that of the caster. I’ve wanted to perform a particular ritual for some time now, but it would have required me to bleed myself dry. However, since mother and father share my blood, then perhaps I can still manage the spell without having to die myself.”
“I won’t allow you to take them,” Cain said.
“How noble,” Luke scoffed. “I expected you to try to stop me, that’s why I ordered my demon not to kill you yet. Before you die, I want to teach you a lesson.”
He needs to prove his dominance, Cain thought, and the realization reminded him so much of his oldest brother that rage welled up inside. Marcus had been a sadistic bully, so ruled by his own evil nature that no one could hope to reason with him. That same dark madness is in this fool who wishes to slay his own parents. Ari, Hestia, I’m sorry, I don’t have a choice.
Before Cain could hope to do anything, Luke pulled his dagger from his belt and slapped it into the palm of his hand. With a fluent motion, he pulled the blade free, sending a spray of blood into the air as he chanted in a low rumble. For a split second, the pentacles carved into his skin glowed, and the next moment, a nebulous stream of a crimson substance rushed from Luke’s palm.
Cain reached out to deflect the energy of the spell, but before it reached him, it changed direction. In a spiral movement, it coiled around his arm like a snake. He screamed. He couldn’t help it. Wherever the spell touched him, it sent waves of agony through his body. While his mind struggled to form a coherent thought through the pain it was forced to process, the spell continued to grow and encircle him.
Luke laughed maniacally. It was that laughter, that enjoyment in the pain he caused, that pleasure with his profane expression of power that snapped Cain out of his illusory anguish. It was as if his soul turned to fire and burned it all away. Through clenched teeth, he said, “You really are slow, aren’t you? You still haven’t realized how outmatched you are.”
Cain threw his arms to his sides and the blood spell coiled around his body evaporated with a loud bang.
Luke went pale and backed away as he stammered, “How?”
“I’ve known a lot of malevolent people in my life. Marcus, my eldest brother, caused the extinction of an entire people. My father who abused me since birth, promised me a crown and acceptance if I do the things he was too much of a coward to do, and he went back on his word when I was done. My sister betrayed me and played her part to get me banished.” Cain held his right hand to his side and conjured a sphere of fire in the palm. The compact ball of flame was so bright it was as if it created daytime in a fifty-meter radius around Cain. “Despite everything these people threw at me, I’m still here, and you don’t have a tenth of the power any of them had in a single strand of hair.”
The ball in Cain’s hand lost its shape and became a stream of fire that roared as it passed over the heads of the blood mages.
Luke fell to his belly and yelled, “Get him!”
The giant beast behind Cain squealed. Before he turned to face it, it grabbed him by the foot, and in a fit of rage, it swung him through the air before slamming him back down on the ground.
Cain’s vision blurred and he coughed up a mouthful of blood. Before he could even hope to recover, the blood demon slammed its fists down on him. One after the other, blows fell, breaking bones with loud cracks. After several seconds of subjective eternity, the creature lifted him by the neck and brought his head to its mouth. It opened its bloody maw to reveal several rows of razor teeth. Its breath smelled of rotten flesh that left an oily sensation on Cain’s skin.
As his consciousness slipped away, Cain’s body acted out of instinct. Magic exploded out of him with an almighty crack and a ring of flames. The force of the expelled magic lifted the blood demon off its feet and flung it backwards and into the farmhouse.
Cain landed on his feet, but his knees buckled. He coughed up another mouthful of blood and noticed a strange shifting of the light. He raised his gaze and stared for a long moment without taking anything in. Flames devoured the farmhouse.
Did I do that? he wondered before fell unconscious to the ground.
                                                                                               #
The visions faded and pain once again threatened to split Cain’s skull in two. With a groan, he sat up and stared at the silhouette figure of the Aka-Manah above him, facing the city, waving its hands about as if conducting an orchestra.
“What happened?” Cain asked.
“THE SHOCK OF WHAT YOU SAW TRIGGERED SOME MORE MEMORY FLASHES. IT’S A LINGERING SIDE EFFECT FROM WHEN I ROOTED AROUND IN YOUR HEAD EARLIER.” The Aka-Manah turned its faceless gaze on him and added, “DON’T WORRY, IT SHOULD PASS. FOR ALL WE KNOW, THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN YOUR LAST EPISODE. I HOPE SO, BECAUSE IT’S BORING HAVING TO WAIT FOR YOU TO RETURN TO THE PRESENT. AT LEAST THIS TIME I WAS ABLE TO ENTERTAIN MYSELF WHILE I WAITED.”
“What?” Cain said as he got to his feet. He opened his mouth to ask another question but fell silent at the horror that met his eyes. Red clouds had gathered over Lazhaden and the light of the moon behind them painted the city the same color as the rivers of blood running down its streets. The blood mages screamed and tried to flee as the master they wished to serve unleashed horrors on them. Tentacles that looked like they belonged to creatures that lived at the depths of the ocean reached out of the puddles of blood and grabbed the mages as they tried to flee, dragging them into bloody depths that should not logically exist. In the market square, two tentacles grabbed hold of the same man and tore him in two.
In a horrified whisper, Cain said, “What are you doing?”
“WELL, YOU MADE IT CLEAR YOU WOULDN’T KILL THEM, AND SOMEONE NEEDED TO DO IT,” the Aka-Manah said as he stopped waving his hands about. Still held above his head, his fingers danced as if pulling the strings of a marionette. The mounds of corpses stacked by the mages moved. Monstrous beasts burst free from the bodies of the slain citizens of Lazhaden. The beasts made horrible noises as they tore into the blood mages who had avoided the tentacles.
“You slaughtered them all,” Cain said aghast.
“NOT YET, BUT I’M WORKING ON IT,” the Aka-Manah said.
“Why did you come for me? You obviously didn’t need me to kill them,” Cain said.
“NEED YOU?” the Aka-Manah laughed. It strode over to Cain and raised its right hand as if holding something in his grasp. The next second, the crimson clouds above opened and it rained—but not water. An invisible dome above Cain repelled the blood that fell to the world below. “OF COURSE, I DIDN’T NEED YOU. I DIDN’T COME TO YOU BECAUSE I WANTED SOMETHING FROM YOU. I CAME TO YOU TO HELP YOU OUT OF YOUR APATHY.”
“You expect me to believe you just wanted to help me?” Cain scoffed.
“BELIEVE WHAT YOU WILL.” The Aka-Manah shrugged. “I—” It cut off and spun around to face the city again. “I’M BEING SUMMONED. I NEED TO GO. IF YOU STILL WANT TO SAVE THE FARMER AND HIS WIFE, YOU NEED TO HURRY TO THE ENORMOUS MARBLE STRUCTURE IN THE CENTER OF THE CITY.”
And with that, the Aka-Manah was finally gone. To Cain’s surprise, its absence left an uneasy tension in the air.
“Ari. Hestia,” Cain said, his eyes fixed on the building the Aka-Manah had indicated. He took a step forward and off the cliff. Using his magic, he cushioned his fall and landed with all the force of a dandelion carried by the wind. The second his feet touched the ground, the monstrous creatures that had emerged from the corpses of the Lazhaden citizens froze in their feasting. Like a single entity, they parted and formed a nightmarish honor guard.
Cain’s skin crawled as he strode down the street, the eyes of the monsters following him. The invisible umbrella conjured by the Aka-Manah still prevented the raining blood from falling on him, but the pools in the street spattered beneath the heels of his boots. As he approached the large marble structure that was his destination, a hand fell from the sky in front of a creature with a long bird-like beak filled with fangs. Only then did he realize where the blood from the clouds came from. It was the blood mages the tentacle creatures had captured. The beast with the beak-like maw grabbed the hand and chomped down on it.
Cain pushed down his revulsion. He had more important things to take care of. He made his way up the stairs to the doors of the building in which he hoped Ari and Hestia were still alive. His heart beat faster and faster as he neared the large double doors. Summoning a torrential gust of wind, he blew the doors open and walked in.
Statues adorned the large circular room on the inside of the building. The floor had a spiral pattern cut into it. The grooves of the spiral were all filled with blood, flowing inward to form the pool in the middle. Against the far wall, Ari cradled Hestia, both of whom were dead and drained of blood.
Luke sat on the podium of a statue, the dagger he had used to kill his mother and father by his feet and his head in his hands. He looked up to see Cain enter the room.
Rage unlike anything Cain had ever felt before welled up inside him, seeming to consume him along with all reason.
Luke stood up and said in a defeated voice, “It didn’t work.”
The next moment, Cain wrapped his right hand around Luke’s throat, pinning him to the wall on the other side of the room. The impact his body made with the stone wall sent blood flying out of his mouth.
“You piece of shit! I’ll kill you!” Cain yelled.
Luke made to pull a dagger on him, but Cain’s left hand enveloped Luke’s right. With his superior strength, he squeezed until he heard bones break.
“YES, KILL HIM. DESTROY HIM FOR WHAT HE’S DONE,” the Aka-Manah whispered in Cain’s ear. This time, however, the voice seemed to come from inside his head.
He ignored it and slammed Luke to the wall again. “Why? Why would you do this?”
“I wanted to speak to my master. To He Who Slumbers. I thought perhaps my mother and father could finally give me what I wanted if I used their blood to cast the spell needed to contact him.”
“Foolish boy,” Cain snarled. Where his hand gripped Luke, the skin of his blood mage’s throat blistered and burned.
“YES, MORE, MORE,” the Aka-Manah said.
“You already had everything in the world; you just didn’t know it,” Cain said as if he hadn’t heard the voice. “You had a mother and father who loved you, and you just killed them for nothing.”
“All I wanted to do was to speak to my master. To ask him to make me whole,” Luke said, a tear running down his cheek.
“You want a hole? I’ll give you one.” Cain raised his free hand, now covered in a nimbus of fire.
“YES, TEAR HIS HEART OUT. FREE THE WORLD OF HIM,” the Aka-Manah squealed with excitement and Cain punched with the flaming fist.
“No,” a weak voice said from nearby and Cain froze, his fist less than an inch from Luke’s chest. Ari, pale and still clutching his wife, looked into Cain’s eyes, pleading with him. The old man was still alive, if barely.
Joy filled Cain like a flood of purifying water, and as it did, the fire that had been there a second ago, vanished. He threw Luke to the side like a discarded bone from a drumstick and fell to his knees beside Ari.
“NO!” Aka-Manah screeched.
“You’re alive,” Cain said, taking Ari’s face in his hands.
“Not for long,” the old farmer replied with a sad smile.
“No, you’ll be all right, I can help you,” Cain said.
Ari raised a weak hand and placed it on Cain’s chest. “No, my boy, I am already as good as dead. Nothing you can do will stop that. I know you’re angry, but you mustn’t let that anger transform you into a vessel of hate. If you kill Luke in revenge for us, you will cross a line you will never come back from.”
“He killed you,” Cain said and tears flowed from him. “You haven’t seen what he’s done to the city.”
“I’m not saying Luke was right. Nor do I believe he should not be punished. But you must not act out of hatred. No matter how pure your intention, how noble your cause, if you act out of hatred, you are wrong.” Ari rose a shaking hand to Cain’s face and wiped away a tear. “When you act out of hatred, you taint your cause and become a champion of the very thing you claim to oppose. As hard as it is, only compassion can prevail over evil. Don’t give in to the call of corruption. I’ve already lost one son to it. I can’t lose another.”
Ari’s hand fell limply to the ground as he let out his last breath and joined his wife in the afterworld. Sorrow overcame Cain and he wept.
Behind Cain, Luke whimpered and crawled towards the pool of blood in the middle of the room.
“No, you fool! Stay away from there!” Cain yelled. He knew it would happen before it did.
The moment Luke looked up at Cain, a hand shot out of the pool of blood and grabbed hold of his forearm. Before he could react, the hand dragged him down into the blood.
“No!” Cain yelled, jumping to his feet and rushing to the pool. He stopped halfway and watched in horror as bubbles popped on the surface of the pool, followed by a head that rose from out of the bloody depths.
Within seconds, Luke’s entire body, now covered in the blood, stood in the center of the room. He cracked his neck and slicked back his blood-soaked hair before smiling at Cain.
“Now look at what you forced me to do,” Luke said. It was his voice, but there was something different about it, something intangible. It wasn’t the same ephemeral speech the Aka-Manah had used all night, but the infinite darkness it held was unmistakable.
“Luke, can you hear me?” Cain asked, hoping above hope that the boy was still somewhere in that body.
“Luke is dead. That is the way the spell works. Only the truly faithful may disturb my sleep. Their lives are the toll they must pay to summon me. Luke was a bad boy. He tried to find a way around that. I have no interest in such a disciple.” The Aka-Manah sighed. “But you left me no choice. Now I must make do with this flawed vessel. That is, until you come to your senses.”
“That’s what all this was about? You wanted my body,” Cain said.
“I want you to serve me,” the Aka-Manah said. “Together, you and I can bring about the time of the Awakening. We can stir my true self from its slumber. When I am awake, this reality will end. The pain and suffering of this world and all nine others will be no more.”
“You want me to help you destroy all of reality?” Cain said aghast.
“Of course. You want that as much as I do. You know better than anyone else how flawed this reality is. Fathers abuse their sons. Family members betray each other. A power-hungry boy slaughters an entire city before killing his own mother and father. This reality deserves to be destroyed. With your help, we can end it all.”
Without conscious thought, Cain took a step back from the Aka-Manah. “Why would you need me?”
“Because Luke didn’t willingly give his life to me; the spell is incomplete and thus, I can’t leave Lazhaden. But you can. If we join—”
“I’ll never help you,” Cain cut him off.
“Don’t get me wrong. It won’t be a one-way street. I’ll help you as well,” the Aka-Manah said.
“A creature as evil as you doesn’t help anyone but itself,” Cain said.
“Come now, Cain. Good, evil, corruption, all words you mortals created to describe the acts of friends and enemies. Morals, a term used to make you people feel better about their failures.” With animated gestures, he pointed at Ari and Hestia’s bodies, “Oh we might have raised a failure of a son, but at least we were good people in the end.” He cupped a hand to his ear and asked, “Tell me, how do you feel about your morals now? What’s that? Oh, that’s right, you can’t answer.”
The insult to Ari and Hestia enraged Cain and he took a step forward, intending to tear the things head clean off its shoulders. The Aka-Manah smiled at this, and the next second Cain fell to his knees. An overwhelming pressure seemed to surround him, to press him down, and crush him from all sides.
“Yes. That’s good. Anger leads to hate. Hate to wrath. And wrath will lead you into my hands.”
Cain struggled to breathe as pain spread through his body and an unbidden scream escaped him, “Help!”
“No one is coming to save you. There is no one in the city alive aside from yourself. Your angelian brothers and sisters will come to investigate eventually, but even they won’t be able to help you. Inside this city, I can use as much of my power as I wish. They won’t make it past the first street.”
As Cain continued to scream where he was doubled over on the ground, he peeked beneath his arm at the forms of Ari and Hestia. Through the waves of pain that pulsed though his body, a persistent tug emerged between his eyes until everything went white.
                                                                                               #
Cain was still on his hands and knees, but everything was just gone. Not just the pain, but everything. A white void had swallowed the entire world.
Am I dead? Cain wondered.
“No. You’re still alive,” a sonorous yet familiar voice said from above.
Cain looked up and saw the smiling face of Ari looking down at him. But this Ari differed greatly from the one Cain knew. While he still wore the old farmer’s face, this man was a warrior, decked out in armor made from bone so white his body was almost invisible in the white surroundings. His eyes were not the same warm brown, but looked like the night sky reflected in the surface of a lake.
“You’re not Ari,” Cain said reflexively.
Faux-Ari smiled at him. “No, I am not. The Shepherd King has already led the true Ari to the afterworld. I’m just borrowing his face for a while.”
“Then who—” Cain stop himself as he sat up. As an angelian he possessed the power to see the thaumaturgic energy that made up all magic, and yet, despite the fact that he couldn’t see any energy around Faux-Ari, he could feel it. It was so vast and deep it made him feel afraid. This being held enough power to wipe out world with a mere thought. “What are you?”
“That is a long and complicated story. For now, it suffices to know that I am he who opposes that,” Faux-Ari pointed up.
For the first time, Cain tore his gaze away from the man before him and saw that the world around him was not just a white void as he had first assumed. Thousands upon thousands of what looked like shards of broken crystals floated in the air, and inside each was one of Cain’s memories. But the shards of memory were not what Faux-Ari was pointing at. He was gesturing at the pitch-black tendrils creeping down like the roots of a tree of ill omen. They creaked as they grew and coiled around the memories.
“Where are we? What’s going on?” Cain asked.
“We are inside your mind, and what you are witnessing is the true nature of evil.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Contrary to popular belief, people or objects cannot be evil. The only thing evil can do is infect them.” He gestured to the roots again. “As you can see, evil acts more like a disease. It seeks a crack or weakness in the spirit to crawl in and infect.”
“A crack or weakness?”
Faux-Ari nodded, held out his left hand, and several crystal shards of memory flew down to float an inch from his hand. “Weaknesses such as envy.” An image of Luke appeared in the crystal. “Gluttony.” A second crystal flew forward, this one showing the memory of the Lazhaden citizens drunk in the middle of the morning in Shep’s tavern. “Lust.” A third memory of the blood mages fornicating in the blood-soaked streets. “And wrath,” Faux-Ari gestured at Cain.
Defensively, Cain said, “Yes, because that thing deserves my wrath.”
“And that is the mindset that allows its influence to spread,” Faux-Ari said. He held his arms out to his sides and this time a dozen crystals arranged themselves around him in an archway of memories, all of them bad. “You have known much pain. Abused by your eldest brother. Rejected and even reviled by your father. Betrayed by you sister. Looked down upon by your own people. These are the actions of the foolish and the already infected. Those who evil infects become conduits of its will. It forces them to act in such a way that they cause harm to others, engendering more spiritual weaknesses in others, creating more cracks it can crawl through and more people it can infect, allowing its will to grow.”
“What would you have me do then? Nothing?” Cain said in frustration.
“No. For apathy is akin to sloth and is another way for it to infect you.” Faux-Ari shook his head. “But doing the right thing for the wrong reason—acting out of corrupted motivations—is just as bad as doing the wrong thing for the right reason. Evil must be torn out by the roots, but how and why it is done is just as important as the act of doing it.”
“And how am I supposed do that?” Cain said in frustration.
“You’ve already been told. It’s why I chose this face. Aristocles may only have been a farmer, but he was one of the wisest men in all the ten worlds.”
A memory crystal flew forward and the image of the dying Ari said, “When you act out of hatred, you taint your cause and become a champion of the very thing you claim to oppose. As hard as it is, only compassion can prevail over evil—”
“It is of the utmost importance that you stop the Aka-Manah from taking over your body and that you destroy it here.”
“But I have to destroy it compassionately?” Cain said sardonically.
“You must do so not out of revenge or hatred, but for the better of the world. If it was only Luke, it would have changed things. But he and everyone in Lazhaden are already dead. You must destroy the Aka-Manah, the embodiment of evil, before it can spread and do to the entire world what it did here. But act out of kindness and compassion for the world, not out of hatred for the Aka-Manah.”
Cain looked at the memory arch still around Faux-Ari and felt the pain inside him stir at the sight of the memories of his father’s hateful stare, his brother beating him, and the sneers of the other angelians. With the pain came resentment for these injustices and hatred for those who caused them.
“I’m not sure I know how,” Cain said in weak voice.
The corners of Faux-Ari’s eyes crinkled as he gave Cain a kind smile. “Yes, you do.”
The memories in the crystal shards all changed. They became images of the time he had sent with Ari and Hestia. He saw the man who had picked up a soaking wet stranger on the side of the road, the motherly woman who was always eager to feed him, and Ari, calling him his son before he died.
A comfortable warmth rippled through Cain, devouring the dark empty pit inside him he had not noticed until now. the memories of the love and acceptance he had received from Ari and Hestia filled it, and as it did, the warmth cleansed him of his hatred and resentment, forcing it out through the streams of tears that now flowed form his eyes. Above, the dark roots caught fire and turned to ash.
“Good,” Faux-Ari said in a pleased tone. “Now, go. Protect the world from the evil infecting Lazhaden.”
                                                                                               #
Cain returned to the circular room where he was still kneeling on the ground. The Aka-Manah’s hold on him was gone, but the waves of pain still continued to ripple through him, although he bore it more easily now.
Cain forced himself to his feet and stared into the eyes the Aka-Manah had stolen from Luke.
“No. How is this possible? My power is absolute,” the Aka-Manah snarled.
“No, it’s not,” Cain said in a calm voice. “You only have power inside Lazhaden. And like you said, inside me is the power to destroy cities.”
Cain closed his eyes and drew on the thaumaturgic energy inside himself. The power that flowed into him from the source, and all the reserves he had stored away over the last two years. He focused on the love he felt for the two people who now lay dead at his feet and forced all that energy out of himself in a violent wind that glowed a silvery-blue. As it exploded form him, it scorched the ground and tore stones out of the walls and pillars. The intensity of the magic wind increased and Cain rose off the ground. The bodies of Ari and Hestia glowed and followed suit and floated over to him.
“Go back to sleep!” Cain yelled and let go of his grasp on the violent tornado of thaumaturgic energy. It exploded outward in a blinding light that robbed the entire world of color and shape, leaving only a white glare and a warm feeling of love and acceptance remembered.
                                                                                               #
The sun was rising by the time Cain packed a last shovel’s worth of dirt on the grave he had dug beyond the crater where Lazhaden had once stood. He had lain Ari and Hestia in the grave together, side by side, as if lying in bed together.
With magic, Cain pulled an enormous stone out of the ground at the head of the grave. He knelt by it and rubbed his hand over the stone. Where his hand passed, sand crumbled away to leave perfect letters behind.
Here lies Aristocles and Hestia, humble farmers who saved this world by showing a stranger kindness.
Cain looked at his handiwork for a long sad moment, then got to his feet. He slipped on his cloak, the same one he had worn the night he had met Ari, and strode over to the nearby crossroads.
From behind him, someone chuckled. “‘Saved the world,’ isn’t that a little grandiose and hyperbolic?”
Cain turned to see the shadow of the Aka-Manah, still looking like Luke, standing next to the grave. “You’re still here?”
“Of course.” The Aka-Manah smiled at him. “With the city gone I have no power, but that’s only until you come to your senses and serve me.”
“That will never happen,” Cain said.
It smiled at him again. “All I need is a slight crack. A single moment of acting out of hatred. Turn your back on one person who needs you. Trip and stumble only once, and you’ll be mine. And then, the Awakening will come.” He gestured at the grave. “It should say: They delayed the inevitable with their kindness.”
“We’ll see,” Cain snarled.
“Yes, we will.” The Aka-Manah strode past Cain and into the center of the crossroads. “Until then, where will we go first?”
Cain thought about it for a second. He watched the sun creeping over the mountains to the left and then at the gathering storm clouds to the right.
“Well?” the Aka-Manah said.
Cain flung his pack over his shoulder, turned right, and set off down the road. As he walked, the Aka-Manah whistled a spine-chilling yet beautiful tune that only Cain could hear.