Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods (2 page)

It becomes too much.  The boy closes his eyes.  He hears his brother shout,
“Take me!   Give me your power and I will be your slave!”

The world explodes.  Elijah feels himself lifted by the hot wind and slammed against the cavern wall behind him. 

Then everything stops.

He opens his eyes, but sees nothing in the darkness.  In the preceding fury, the feeble torch had been tossed to the other side of the room, extinguishing the final ember that may have revealed his brother
’s absence from the room or the fine gold book that lay at his feet.

Act One: The Heavens and the Earth

Chapter One: Mountaintop, A.D. 2563

              The lone man stood on the mountaintop, sword drawn.  He wore black: the traditional kenpo gi shirt and hakama pants of a martial artist.  His gaze was fixated on his target.  At the moment, nothing else existed in the universe. 

             
It was easy to block out the world.  High on the peak of Baegundae Mountain, there was little to see.  The thick cloud surrounding the mountaintop diffused the sunlight, casting a red-orange glow over the land.  Except for the valley below him and the bright cloud of light above him, the man knew nothing of the world but himself, the tree in front of him, and the katana in his hands.

             
The union of Heaven, Earth, and Man, made it very clear to him how ancient people could come to believe that mountains were sacred. 

             
However, if he had tried, he could have seen something that was not Heaven, Earth, or Man.  If he had stared into the cloud of light and squinted, he could have made out a vague patch of darkness. 

             
But he did not try. 

             
This dark shape was exactly what he wanted to escape today.  Instead, the man held his sword and gazed at the kahm tree growing out of the rock in front of him.  This tree was the enemy.  The small, orange fruit his target.  Not a particularly wily foe, but it would prove challenging enough. 

             
He stood still, eying up the tree.  He selected five pieces of fruit and mapped out his course: run to the tree, sword raised, leap and slash, push off the rock while stabbing.  Reaching the top of the tree would be difficult, but he may be able to push off the branches.  At the top, all he needed to do was drop. 

             
The objective being to cut the fruit from the branches without cutting the leaves.  Nothing beyond his ability. 

             
Except he couldn’t take his mind off the gunfire echoing from the valley. 

             
Far below him stood another man, also with a weapon.  However, this man was much younger.  He was dressed in a long, brown coat.  It appeared to be leather, but was worn through time and use.  Unfortunately, he did not face as docile an opponent as a tree. 

             
Instead, Daniel Uzuki leveled his pistol-gripped shotgun against a cunning monster.  The fiend reeked of death.  Its dull brown skin clung tight to its body, outlining every bone, vein and muscle in the demon’s frame.  But he wasn’t concerned with the ugliness or the smell.  His worries came instead from the twelve-inch long bone claws extending from the fingers of the monster’s right hand.

             
He also wasn’t excited about the blood dripping from its fangs. 

             
“Humanoid” is a word that could be used to describe monsters such as this.  However, few people ever did. 

             
Despite the monster’s intimidating visage, he remained calm.  He drew his strength from the 12-gauge shotgun held tight in his hands.  He hesitated only to consider that there were other demons nearby. 

             
He stood, watching the monster. 

             
It stood, watching him. 

             
The others attacked. 

             
High up on the mountain peak, Zeke loosed his grip on the katana and waited.

             
Crack
.  The gunshot rang out through the air. 

             
Next came the terrible scream of the monster.  It was a sound that he recognized instantly.  Every human on Earth knew that sound.  Now he knew what the gunfighter had been shooting at.

             
Not that there was much doubt before.

             
Crack.  Crack.  Crack. 
The sharp explosions of the gun echoed off the mountains, disturbing the other-worldliness of the scene. 

             
Crack.  Crack. 
These shots rang higher than the others.  The fighter had changed guns.

             
Crack.

             
A monster screamed. 

             
Then nothing. 

             
The battle was over.  Thankful for the silence, Zeke turned back to his training.  Raising his sword to an en-guard, he found his chosen fruit. 

             
He ran. 

             
His sword cut through the first fruit, as he planned.  He jumped and hit another.  Leaping off the rock, he sprang higher, stabbing the heavy sword as gently as he could.  He nearly stumbled as his foot hit the thin branch, but he caught himself and pushed higher.  Reaching the top of the tree, he spun his sword downward. 

             
A piece of fruit fell. 

             
So did Zeke.  On his way down, he pulled the sword.  Another piece of fruit was severed from the boughs.  He landed on his feet, sword extended in follow-through position. 

             
“Impressive,” came the voice of a young man behind him.  “You
must
be Ezekiel Branderlief.” 

             
He didn’t turn.  “If you’ve come to kill me, it’s only fair to let you know your gun is jammed.”

             
“Is it?” Daniel asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

             
Zeke stood up straight, relaxing his sword arm.  “You made a lot of noise down there.  Sounds like you’re using inferior ammunition.  That last shot you fired didn’t recycle.”

             
Taking advantage of his turned back, Daniel pulled out the .45 pistol he kept.  He was right—the copper casing of his last shot was fused in the chamber.  The ejector had broken off trying to pull it out.  The gun was useless now—it would need to be repaired when he returned to Nifelheim.  “If you mean to scare me,” he replied, masking his intimidation.  “It’s only fair to let you know you only nicked your third kahm.”

             
“Did I?” 

             
Daniel turned to drop his broken gun in his bag.  Otherwise, he would have seen the kahm land hard on Zeke’s head. 

             
Turning back to the swordsman, the boy decided to get to his point.  “Anyway, I’ve come to . . .”

             
“How many were there?”

             
“Excuse me?”

             
“The gunshots.  You were fighting draugr, weren’t you?”

             
Daniel was caught off guard by this sudden interest.  His nervousness about meeting the legendary ex-soldier faded.  “Uh, yes.  I was.”

             
“Well?   How many were there?”

             
“I don’t know.  I guess about six or seven.”

             
“Fast or slow?”

             
“I don’t know.  About normal, I’d say.  Why are you asking about this?”

             
“Just worried, that’s all.”  He seemed to relax, but Daniel couldn’t tell why.  Maybe he was convinced the boy wasn’t an assassin.  Or maybe he just wasn’t afraid.  “Some say the draugr are increasing in number.”

             
“Probably just rumors.”  The young fighter was eager to sound wiser than he looked.  “Few people want to get near draugr, much less study them.” 

             
Draugr had appeared on earth several years ago.  With the strength of monsters and near-human intelligence, they had proven a match for human civilization.  Only the best of fighters had ever returned from a one-on-one match with a draugr. 

             
“Nevertheless,” Zeke said, “I’m not taking any chances.  I still have to make my way back to the city.  I imagine you do, too.  Unless, of course, you’ve come to kill me.”  He raised his blade slightly. 

             
“No.”  Daniel instinctively took a step back.  “I haven’t come to kill you.  Why do you say that?”

             
“Agents of the Karellan are everywhere.”

             
Zeke had caught several government agents patrolling his neighborhood in the past month.  Such things were not uncommon under the Karellan’s leadership.  No one was protected unless the overlord declared it.  Spies were occasionally sighted throughout the cities, but lately he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. 

             
Of being stalked. 

             
Three days ago, he caught one of the Karellan’s spies watching him train.  Since then he decided to take his chances training outside the city. 

             
Draugr, he felt, were less dangerous than humans.

             
“Well, no.  I’m just a messenger.  Not an assassin,” Daniel explained.

             
“A message?   For me?”

             
“From the Supervisor.” 

             
He wasn’t interested.  The Supervisor was the Karellan’s sycophantic governor in charge of the slums of Nifelheim.  In Zeke’s eyes, he was no better than the overlord himself.  “Forget it,” he said.

             
“I’m afraid I have to tell you anyway.  He wants to see you immediately.” 

             
“Look.  I’m no fan of the Karellan, but if it’s possible I like his lackeys even less.  So you can climb down this mountain and tell that pompous leech to go . . .”

             
“Ariel,” he interjected calmly. 

             
Zeke stopped.  “What?” 

             
“The supervisor thought you might not want to come, so he told me to mention the name ‘Ariel. ’  Is she a girlfriend or something?”

             
“He wouldn’t.”  He unknowingly tightened his grip on his sword.

             
“He seemed pretty serious.”

             
Zeke stood silent, trying to keep calm.  It didn’t surprise him.  With so many spies following him, it was inevitable that one of them should learn about Ariel.  He stood speechless.  Angry.

             
“He’d like to see you today, if that’s possible,” Daniel continued.

             
He had no choice.  “You any good with that thing, Clint?”  

             
Daniel glanced down.  His coat was open, revealing the shotgun hanging under his arm.  “I don’t mean to brag, but it got me up here, didn’t it?”

             
“I don’t mean to belittle your skills, gunboy, but seven draugr are nothing compared to the hoards I saw in the valley this morning.”

             
“Hoards?” he said in disbelief.  “But draugr usually travel alone.”

             
“Yeah, well, what do I know?”  Zeke retorted.  “Probably just rumors anyway, right?”  He walked over to a rock and pulled out a small bag.  Throwing it over his shoulder, he began walking.

             
“Where are you going?”

             
“Well, I thought I’d head back to town.”

             
“But Nifelheim is this way.”  Daniel pointed back in the direction he came from.

             
“Right, and so is a nice hike over the next five mountains until it drops you off in the wastelands surrounding the city.  If we go my way, it’s a two hour walk down the mountain and a ten minute walk to Nifelheim’s north gate.” 

             
He waited.  Daniel followed him, embarrassed. 

             
They set off down the path, but hadn’t gone ten steps before they heard the draugr hoard scream.  Zeke put out his hand, signaling a halt.

             
“What is it?” the boy asked.

             
“Those draugr aren’t hurt.  They’re scared.”  The two men stood silent.  There was only one thing on earth capable of frightening monsters as powerful of draugr. 

             
Malak. 

             
Mysterious beings comprised of energy, they existed in the world, but somehow outside of it as well.  Draugr could be defeated—they were strong, but not invincible.  Malak, on the other hand, had never been so much as scratched since they had first appeared on Earth several hundred years ago.  Ordinary weapons passed straight through their bodies as if they were ghosts.  But unlike ghosts, they could make themselves felt when they wanted to be.