Dissension

DISSENSION

THE FALL OF GODS BOOK ONE

By R.J. Wolf

Copyright © 2015 by R.J. Wolf

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This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be used reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the expressed written consent of the author.

Dedication

I dedicate this priceless piece of art to my wife.  Migdalia, the fearless woman who has faithfully stood beside me throughout my endless writing endeavors.  Although she’s never read a word I’ve put on paper I appreciate her candid criticisms and cautious optimism.  To my youngest sons Devin and Cayden who sacrificed hours on end of rolling around the floor roaring like lions to allow me to complete this book.  To my eldest son Anthony, I hope you enjoy having a main character created in your image.  Although it’s been more than impossible to get an honest critique of any of my work from you, I appreciate the fact that you’ve always thought of me as the greatest author on Earth, even when I’m not.  To my friends and family who immediately purchased anything I wrote even when it was plagued with errors and bore a plot that a drunken lab rat could’ve conceived.  To my fans, which looks very strange to write considering I have so few, but to the two or three of you out there I hope you enjoy.

~Thank You~

Thousands of years ago...

“The high council has spoken Daviathan.  Who are we to object?” the rangy man asked, stuffing the last few items into a dingy, old rucksack.

He was tall, thick boned with long, brown hair that curled and twisted like a vine.  His large hands were weathered, but strong and his serene, green eyes betrayed his true age, as well as the storm that raged within.

He stood inside of a massive, glowing dome.  The black, onyx floor reflected the sparkling blue light that made up the ceiling.  Ivory colored walls stretched upward like tear drops from heaven, the gentle hues they reflected danced like a silent ballet.

To his left was a thinner man, lean and gangly, but no less intimidating.  There was a fierceness in his face as he scanned the other man with his mystic blue eyes.

“Who are we not to object Tarian?  Whether they accept it or not, war is at our door.  We must reinforce the outpost.”

“But Earth!  Certainly our talents are better suited elsewhere,” Tarian replied with a hint of disdain in his voice.

“Come with me or stay Tarian, I am going.”

Daviathan turned and began to walk off.  He grabbed a sack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder.

“And what of the prophecy does that mean nothing to you?” Tarian shouted after him.

Daviathan stopped and slowly turned around.  He stared at Tarian for a while in silence before wiping his face and clearing his throat.

“What of it?  Should the ramblings of an old woman determine my fate?  If the prophecy is true then we are saved, but what if isn't?  Milicent's visions have not always been completely true."

Tarian took a deep breath and sighed.  He stepped away from the table and walked towards Daviathan with his rucksack in his hand.

“You can stay Tarian.  I will think no less of you.  I can handle this alone,” Daviathan said coldly as he held out his hand, exposing a small sphere of blue light.

“Nonsense!”

Tarian grabbed the blue light and tossed it into the air.  Electricity crackled and fizzled as the ball hovered just at eye level.  An enormous energy radiated from the sphere that made the air around it ripple and distort as it started to grow.

Tarian smiled at Daviathan and took a step towards it.  The light shimmered and reached out for him as he moved closer.  It was like it could sense him there.

“Let's not linger any longer.  The fate of worlds rest on our shoulders,” Tarian said.  Then he leaned forward and vanished into the sphere.

Grinning, Daviathan followed after him and disappeared.  The floor suddenly melted away as he whirled through an empty black space.  Daviathan felt weightless, his body spinning uncontrollably through the nebulous void.

Pressure grew all around him squeezing the air from his lungs.  He tensed up and clenched his teeth, fighting against the sensation to pass out.  Time seemed like an irrelevant concept and even his sense of his own existence felt meaningless.  Then suddenly with a crash, Daviathan’s feet slammed onto an uneven, rocky terrain.

He looked to his side.  Tarian was standing a few feet away, shaking off his own discomfort.

"It never gets easier," Daviathan croaked.

"Unfortunately," Tarian replied then headed off.

Daviathan scanned the mountain side, and took a shallow breath.  The air was different and it took his lungs a moment to adjust.  “Earth," he said with a smirk then hurried after Tarian.

“So I assume you have a plan, or do you intend to make it up as we go?”

“Tarian you must learn to have faith,” Daviathan said dismissively.

"So no plan then?"

Daviathan cut his eyes then together they clambered down the mountain onto a narrow goat trail.  They moved silently, gliding through the night like ghosts.  Ahead of them, the faint lights of a village flickered like a candle being blown out.

“Is it there?” Tarian whispered, pointing towards the quivering lights.

“Yes.  We must be silent for I fear the worst.”

Daviathan stepped forward and pawed at the air with his hand.  It clung to his fingers like water, slowly rippling as it moved.  Pulling his hand back, the air parted and tore in two.

“Are you coming?” he asked, glancing back at Tarian.

Tarian nodded.  Gliding forward, they both moved through the ripple of air like it was a bed sheet, hanging from a clothes line.  The mountains, the rocks and the hazardous terrain vanished, giving way to the inside of a small clay hut, dimly lit with candles.  As their feet left the mountainside they stepped into the living room and looked around.

Daviathan immediately noticed a woman’s body lying limp on the sandy floor.  With Tarian right behind him, he rushed to her side.

“Achima!” he bellowed.

Lifting her head, he stared into her empty eyes and knew they were too late.  Blood dripped from her ears, forming a muddy pool on the floor.  Her silvery hair, which was normally shinning and vibrant, looked dull and lifeless.

“Daviathan,” Tarian whispered.  “If they’ve found her, surely they’ve found Abrax.”

There was a noise in the next room and Daviathan pressed his fingers against his lips.  Gently lowering Achima’s head, he stood up and pulled a bronze dagger from his bag.  Tarian did the same and they silently crept forward.

The sound of things breaking and being thrown around rattled on the other side of the wall.  Glass shattered and broke as the furniture was toppled over and flung across the room.  Then suddenly, the noises stopped.

Daviathan froze and pointed at a dark opening in the wall.  Tarian nodded and they began to shuffle stealthily across the floor, with their backs pressed flat against the lumpy clay.

Inching closer, Daviathan leaned forward and peeked around the corner into the shadowy room.  Tables and chairs were sprawled all over the place.  The windows had been shattered and a giant oak table that sat in the center was broken in half and partially reduced to splinters.

"I see nothing," he whispered.

Then with a loud bang and a large shaggy object exploded from the room and slid across the floor.  It looked like a cross between a wolf and a lion.  Its body was covered in black, spiked fur and a pair of razor sharp horns protruded from its head.  Its tail whipped about like a wild lizard as it gashed at the air with bird-like talons.

“Ravens!”  Daviathan screamed.

He lunged at the animal, his bronze knife slicing through the air like a laser.  The raven was quicker and slid to the side avoiding Daviathan’s blade.  Tarian dove after it, but the raven swatted him to the ground, scraping him across the chest with its savage claws.

Circling the raven, Daviathan glared into its dark purple eyes.  It snarled and growled, slowly mimicking Daviathan as they stepped in unison around each other.

Tightly squeezing the hilt of his knife Daviathan clenched his teeth, waiting for an opening.  The raven snapped at him and slashed wildly.  Then with another growl it turned and dove out of a window into the night.

Daviathan gave chase, but the sleek animal was quickly consumed by the darkness.  He stared after it, narrowing his eyes to focus.  The wind whistled and howled, but the Raven was nowhere to be seen.

“Daviathan!”  Tarian called from inside of the hut.

Whipping around, Daviathan darted back inside.  Tarian was leaning against the wall, his hand covering a gash that ran from his chest to his stomach.

“I’ve found Abrax,” Tarian grumbled.

Daviathan looked at him; blood seeped through his fingertips and down his hand.  The color had faded from his face and he trembled slightly as he stood.

“Age has made you slow my friend,” Daviathan said with a smile.

He placed his hand over Tarian’s hand and closed his eyes.  A soft, yellow glow rose around the wound and then vanished.  When Daviathan moved his hand the wound had healed.

Daviathan stepped away, noticing the limp body that was laying at the edge of the room.  He was a portly man with thinning red hair.  His throat had been torn out and a streak of blood stained the floor where he had been dragged.

“He was in the room…the room with the raven.  We were only minutes too late.”  Tarian said as he dropped his head.

Daviathan sighed.  “Old friend, I hope your journey was not in vain.”

Kneeling down, he swept the copper locks from Abrax’s face and stared into his dim, gray eyes.

“I’ll need your help with this,” Daviathan said and stretched his hand up into the air.

Tarian knelt next to him.  He placed one hand on Abrax’s body and grabbed Daviathan’s with the other.  Daviathan did the same, forming a circle.

They both took a deep breath and flashes of light started to pulse from their fingers.  The pulses grew stronger and stronger, lighting up the room like a torch.  Abrax’s body began to convulse, his head snapped backwards, his chest arched upwards.  Then with a flash their hands were thrown from his body and they were flung backwards.

Daviathan stumbled to his feet first then Tarian collected himself.  Abrax’s lifeless corpse was still lying on the floor, but a purplish glow surrounded him.  Slowly, a mist wafted from his mouth and rose into the air.

It was a thick purple gas, shapeless, but moving.  As Daviathan watched, it morphed into an oblong figure then stretched until the form of a man started to take shape.  Within seconds, the gas resembled the figure of the man that lay dead on the ground.

Daviathan looked at him with sad eyes and the misty figure smiled and then spoke.

“It has been too long my friend.”  His voice seemed to come from everywhere, echoing throughout the room. 

“Abrax, I am sorry to find you like this,” Daviathan sighed.

“I am sorry I couldn’t do more,” Abrax sadly responded.

“What do they know?” Tarian asked as he stepped closer.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” Daviathan echoed.

“The portals are gone, the protectors are dead.  They sent legions of ravens.  We weren’t prepared.  I held them off for as long as I could, but their numbers were too great.  Achima tried to send word back, but…”

His words fell off like the sound of wind tumbling over a cliff.  The figure that had been formed by the gas wavered as if it were going to disperse, then came back together.

“Where are they now?”  Daviathan asked after a long silence.

Abrax’s misty shape started to break apart again.  The purple gas swirled and thinned, quivering in the dimly lit hut.

“Abrax!” Daviathan called.  “Where are they?”

“Heading for the master portal,” Abrax whispered before he vanished completely.