Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2) (42 page)

With a parting glare at Elan'fer'sha, Aluras'bektsh'tar spins on her toes and stalks down the tunnel behind her, as her forces scramble to make a path for her. The gas does not appear to be affecting Aluras'bektsh'tar or the Citadel Lord's forces in the least, but I cannot tell why.

The SvartAlfar springs to the side, covering more than thirty feet in a single step.

“Tens of thousands of pawns, and a single Wytch can turn the tide of a battle with a sing spell. But a single assassin with a single stroke of a knife can change the course or an Empire. Your life or death is irrelevant.” The SvartAlfar glides down the stands toward the rebels.

“It that how a worm of Kally says I'm a loser?”

I just watch the SvartAlfar disappear into the mass of cultist rebels. There are too many of them down there, and no matter how good I might be, I would be overwhelmed trying to bring him down with all of them attacking me.

The end of the battle is anticlimactic, as the black gas weakens the forces rebelling against the Citadel Lord, and his troops cut them down like a field of wheat at harvest time. With the energy dome covering him, I cannot see the Citadel Lord's pattern. It is impossible to tell whether or not he really is alive, but in the end, I suppose it does not matter for us.

I return to Elan'fer'sha's side and wait for her to terminate her spell. None of the Citadel Lord's guards attempt to approach us. For all the attention they pay us, we might as well not exist.

Finally, Elan'fer'sha's spell ends, and she releases the Umbra. As she turns toward me, I catch her, when her legs give out, and she begins to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut. Picking her up, I turn toward the gate, with her unconscious body in my arms.

“We're leaving.”

Everyone from the Blood Rose Stable follows me through the gate, while some of the Citadel Lord's legionnaires and bodyguards watch. As soon as Kanchek, the last one through, is back in the ritual chamber, I close the gate.

While Kanchek and the Throd'nahk disperse the gladiators and guards, I retrieve some blanket from one of my storage devices to make a bed for Elan'fer'sha. It seems to be convenient that I never did get around to disposing of all the trash loot that I accumulated from the Thug Horde massacre.

After I have Elan'fer'sha safely ensconced in her makeshift bed in one corner of the ritual chamber, Kanchek, the Throd'nahk, and Tyrend are the only ones left in the room with us. The Throd'nahk's worry is obvious in his face and posture, but Kanchek and Tyrend seem more curious and confused than worried.

“What is wrong with the Mistress?” Kanchek does not seem like the type to equivocate, and he does not surprise me getting right to the point.

“Umbral corruption.”

Kanchek nods fractionally, more to himself than anything. Tyrend stares blankly at me, but the Throd'nahk appears to be close to becoming distraught. Being DokkAlfar, it is not surprising that Kanchek would have some awareness of the meaning of the term. The Throd'nahk seems to have spent enough time in Gor'achen Citadel to know it is not good, but for Tyrend, there is no reason to expect him to understand. Outside of the DokkAlfar, Umbra users are extremely uncommon, and more often than not normal people would have no real knowledge about the side effects of the Umbra.

“What do you plan to do?”

I shrug. “Hole up here, until the Smith gets back. After that, it will depend on what's happening. Once the Smith is back, if you or anyone else decides that they want out of here, I'll open a gate to someplace suitable. I can't open gates anywhere and everywhere, but I can do it in a lot locations in the Battleground of the Damned and the Lands of Despair.”

Kanchek nod in acknowledgment and leaves.

“Will the Mistress be okay?” The Throd'nahk's eyes are locked on Elan'fer'sha's recumbent form.

“Do you understand what Umbral corruption is?”

The Throd'nahk turns a challenging glare on me. “No.”

I look at Elan'fer'sha. “The Umbra is inimical to life. Over time, it twists and destroys the patterns of living things. Even Transcendent beings can be damaged or killed if they use too much of it. Elan has used far too much for far too long.”

“How long until she recovers?”

Rage and anger flare up in me, and I turn to glare at the Throd'nahk. “There's no fucking recovery. She's dying and what she did today chipped away at what time she has left. Get the fuck out of here, so she can at least rest in peace.”

I do not know why I am so angry, but I am ready to break the Throd'nahk and throw him out of Thrall's territory. He seems to sense how close I am to fucking his world and makes the wise choice, he leaves.

“You've changed.”

I look at Tyrend. “What do you mean?”

Tyrend scratches his jaw, while not looking quite straight at me. “The Brand I saw that first day you arrived wouldn't care if the Mistress lived or died. He was death looking for something to land into. You're still death looking for something to kill, but the Mistress matters to you, now.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I do not think I have changed, but maybe, he is right. I can only see myself from a subjective perspective. Even with all the Power I have at my disposal, I cannot separate my consciousness from itself and evaluate myself from a completely detached point of view. Those who claim to have an objective view of themselves are all morons and lying fucking hypocrites.

“Go check on Mikumi, but don't let her leave. We're probably being watched from within the Third Layer.”

Tyrend nods, with normal cocky grin in place. “Some padding to fill her out, and Mikumi would be a pretty good fuck.”

“You have disgusting tastes in women's physiques.”

Tyrend's laughter drifts back into the ritual chamber as he leaves.

Elan'fer'sha sits up using the wall for a backrest. She has been awake since the mass of the gladiators and guards left the room.

“Why did you tell them?”

“Depending on how the act, I'll have a better idea of how far I can use them without being stabbed in the back.”

“You would be well suited for the Left Hand Order. You could rise high among them.”

“Except for the dead, everyone I ever trusted has betrayed me.”

Elan'fer'sha's smile is bitter. “There is no who will not betray you, if they find a reason to.”

“Why did Aluras betray you? What was the point?”

Elan'fer'sha closes her eyes. “Who else could she take vengeance on? My clan was the tool used to destroy her Line of Provenance and make it look like a LjosAlfar attack. It was masterminded by Sinla'aveyka'tar on the orders of the orders of Talchok'aveyka'tar.”

“Did you learn who killed your clan?”

Elan'fer'sha shakes her head, her chin falling to her chest. The air of despondency around her is so heavy it feels like I should be able to see it. If she were not what she is, I would expect her to cry.

“PEOPLE OF GOR'ACHEN CITADEL I AM THRALL, SON OF RIG. YOU KNOW OF ME AS THE SMITH.” The booming voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, and it certainly sounds like Thrall.

I quickly weave an activation spell for the mirror, with Thrall as my intended focal point. As soon as I bind it to the mirror the scene resolves to Thrall on a castle parapet, lit by the sanguine light of the dimension of the Life and Death Furnace. He looks at the focal point for a moment before continuing.

“I HAVE COME TO AN ACCORD WITH YGGR, AND FROM THIS MOMENT ONWARD, THE GOR'ACHEN CITADEL BELONGS TO ME. IT IS NO LONGER PART OF THE ATRAN'LER EMPIRE.

“THIS CITADEL WAS BUILT FOR WAR, AND IT WILL BE GOING INTO BATTLE WITH THE FORCES OF WODEN, WHO NOW CALLS HIMSELF THE NAMELESS GOD.”

Elan'fer'sha climbs unsteadily to her feet and moves over to me. Leaning on my shoulder, she stares at Thrall's image in the mirror.

“I WILL ALLOW THOSE WHO CHOSE TO LEAVE THIS CITADEL DISEMBARK TO THE OTHER CITADELS THAT ARE ARE HERE NOW. YOU HAVE A SINGLE TEN-DAY TO DECIDE AND DEPART, IF YOU CHOOSE TO DO SO.”

A storm is coming, and there is going to be even more chaos in the Gor'achen Citadel. The rats and the vipers are going to be scrambling and backstabbing one another right and left in their struggle to grasp a little more status and power. I wonder how Thrall plans to handle it?

My body stiffens momentarily in shock, as Elan'fer'sha's arms slip around my neck, and she clings tightly to me. When I wrap my arms around her, she holds on tighter, without saying anything. For a long time, I stare at the the now empty battlements, while silent tears fall on my neck and shoulder.

“Is my test over?”

Thrall stares at me for a moment. This is the first time he has been back to the Blood Rose Stable, since his announcement, and the first thing out of my mouth is a question about something that I should be unaware of.

“You talked with Boran.”

I shrug.

“Things went quite a bit awry from what was expected. Boran was satisfied with the results, but I do not know when he will contact you.”

“You want to explain what the fuck happened?”

Thrall frowns. “I am Transcendent and do not worry about the actions of most mortals. For too long, I did not pay enough attention to the course of events. Apparently, Aluras'bektsh'tar and Canth are Dragon cultists. They had been secretly manipulating the Stoics. I knew the Stoics were staging a rebellions, but if the clans did not pay attention to it, I had no intention of warning them. What I should have paid attention to was their religion. The Stoics appeared to be worshiping Yggr, but their real loyalty was to Woden. Most of the common Stoics seem unaware that they were really worshiping Woden, but that does not make it any less significant.

“Woden and Yggr are twins, and the Stoics leaders used their almost identical appearance and carefully worded prayers and sermons to disguise it as worship of Yggr. The Citadel Lords and the Priest-Lords of the Church of the Jotun Lords discounted them as weaklings that were trying to undermine their culture because they lacked the strength to rise. Only the Left Hand of Yggr seemed to watch them, but for unknown reasons did not act until too late. Now, there will be purges across the Atran'ler Empire.

“After Yggr demanded I act as his go between with Boran, I paid even less attention to events in Gor'achen. I never thought that Aluras'bektsh'tar would learn about Elan'fer'sha's clan being the source of her clan's destruction. There should have no source for that information. Her daring to move against one of my minions would be unbelievable, if she were not a Dragon cultist.”

“What's the big deal about her being a Dragon cultist, other than the Jotun's egos?”

Thrall laughs. “The Dragons have no foothold in the Labyrinth of Yggr. Even though a few of them are here, they are younger and weaker ones, that have no place in the Dragon hierarchies. You may or may not have heard legends about the
Jotun-Dragon
War, but the Jotun's overthrew the Umbral Dragons as the gods of most of the DokkAlfar. Being accused of being a Dragon cultist is a death sentence, if you lack the power and position to fight off the Church of the Jotun Lords.

“In the past thousand years, there have been hundreds of Lines of Provenance that have been exterminated because they were thought to be Dragon cultists, the Bektsh'tar line among them. Aluras was thought to have never been inculcated and Canth made his reputation fighting on the Jotun side in the Jotun-Dragon War. Clan Vardne'tar taking him on was assumed to have been a move by Aluras' father to obfuscate his Dragon cultist loyalties. When or how he became a Dragon cultist may never be known, but it is helping to foment a new wave of paranoia over Dragon cultists in the Atran'ler Empire.”

“What about the SvartAlfar? Who is Kah Lee?”

Thrall frowns, and a glint of anger appears in his eyes. “The SvartAlfar has left Gor'achen. Kah Lee is the self-proclaimed Mistress of Murder. She is one of those who calls herself a goddess.”

“I'm leaving too many enemies alive.”

Thrall smiles and walks over to the mirror, then looks at me with narrowed eyes.

“Twisting the three parts of the Trinity, that is a trick I never expected you to master. Most who try it burn themselves out, before doing it properly. If you keep using your Power in that manner, it will help to open all of your Power reservoirs and channels equally. Still, I am surprised you mastered my mirror so quickly.”

“I fucked up; someone gave me a lot of help.” Unlike Boran, I do not feel comfortable talking about Life with Thrall.

Thrall just watches me for a moment, when I do not elaborate.

“No matter, you can have the mirror, along with this place. I have taken possession of the Lord's Castle and can build a better mirror. If you do not accept Boran's request, I could use you in the war against Woden.”

Thrall never really answered my question, and he seems to have no intentions on elaborating on the partial answers he gave. I know as well as anyone that everyone has secrets they do not want to talk about.

Three swords, one nothing more than a lump of metal with a shattered pattern, and an axe lay on the workbench in front of me. Neither my swords not my axe have been Patterned, and I am not sure how I want to Pattern them. My knowledge is still far too lacking, so my options are extremely limited.

Power flares in the room behind me. As I spin around, I see space slit, and another scene become visible in the rift. Compared with my Smithy, the rough hewn cavern is only dimly lit by the flickering ruddy light of a forge. Standing midway between the rift and the forge, Boran looks at me with a faint smile.

“Bring your weapons.” Boran's words are in English.

I stare at him, unable to keep the shock off my face. “When did you learn English?”

Boran chuckles softly. “English as you call it is a common language on Gaean Worlds like your Earth. There are around seven hundred common variations.”

Stepping through Boran's rift, I feel the Od filling the cave. Its concentration is so high that I am not sure a being could survive her without at least being recognized by the Od.

With the exception of the area around the forge, the cave itself is mostly natural. In the section of the cave where the floor has been leveled, a Smithy has been constructed. There are even stronger concentrations of Power around in the Smithy than the rest of the cave, but I cannot identify the nature of those Powers. From their extremely heavy feel, they might be Elemental.

“Leave them on the table for now and take a seat.” Boran points to a workbench in the Smithy.

Leaving my weapon on the workbench, I sit down on one of the two stool in the Smithy, and Boran takes the other.

“What is a Gaean World?”

“Gaea was the first world in the first universe. Its geographical pattern is repeated time and again throughout the first metaverse and the second metaverse. I already told you this is the second metaverse, did I not?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“The first metaverse was created by Life and Death. Before the existence of Life and Death, there was nothing but the Four Primal Powers: Light, Dark, Law, Chaos. How long the Primals have existed is impossible to know; time has no meaning within the Primals. Whether or not the Primals are sentient, no one knows. Each of the Primals exists solely for the purpose of making everything of itself.

“Before the first metaverse existed, Life and Death came into existence, because they chose to exist. At the point all four Primals meet, Life and Death were born. Siblings, lovers, allies, enemies, They are eternally tied one to the other and eternally opposed to one another.

“After Life and Death came into existence, They created the Five Great Elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Spirit. With creation of the Five Great Elements, other Powers came into being that were Elemental in their strength. Each was sentient and was a NAME.”

The meaning and Power contained the word Name, as said by Boran, nearly blasts me into unconsciousness. As I sway on my stool, Boran frowns.

“Your strength is still far too weak. Names have Power. When one understand the reality of a Name and can properly say it, one can bring about the Power of that Name. The Names of the first metaverse were the very embodiment of their own Power, and each has purpose based on their own Name.

“The monolithic Power contained within the Five Great Elements allowed them resist being destroyed by the Primals, and within the shield of the Five Great Elements, Life and Death amalgamated the first two universes. Each universe was a mirror and an inverse of the other, one living and the other dead.

“Over an incalculable period of time universes beyond count naturally amalgamated, and the first metaverse became filled with well nigh infinite lives. But everything that is born must someday die. Born from Life, claimed by Death, given to Life and reborn, this is the eternal cycle of Life and Death.

“During the birth of the myriad universes, Life gave birth to the children sired by Death. The first of the Dragons were born, True Dragons, not the little wyrms of this multiverse that call themselves Dragons. The Dragons were Elemental beings with strength to challenge the weaker Names, and they set out to conquer all of the Amalgamate universes.

“Unsatisfied with the weak races that worshiped them, the Dragons wanted a stronger race to serve them as soldier-slaves. In his flesh shaping labs, the Dragon Nidhoggr, one of the firstborn of Life, created a new race. Though their form was partly made of Amalgamate flesh, these were creatures birthed of Elemental Earth and Elemental Fire. Initially they created only five, Lemur, Boran, Korak, Vein, and Viroka. From the blood of the Fathers, the Dvergar race was born in the flesh cauldrons of Nidhoggr, but Nidhoggr, being jealous of his technology and not wishing to spend his days making soldiers, was unhappy.

“The Dvergar were the perfect soldier-slaves in the eyes of Nidhoggr, but they needed to be self-perpetuating, so he created the Valkyrie. Creatures of Elemental Air and Elemental Water partially in the form of Amalgamate flesh, the Valkyrie were made in a female form to complement the male form of the Dvergar. Two completely unique races, Nidhoggr made it so they could mate and produce offspring.

“Millions of years after the Dvergar were created, the Dragons were bored with ruling their empires Nidhoggr created the Alfar to be their factors and administrators. The Alfar were given the title of Whip-Masters by the Dragons and given power over all the Dragons domains and properties as their proxies.

“Billions of years after the creation of the Dvergar, and possibly trillions of years after the births of the first Dragons, a group of Dragons left the first metaverse. In their dimensional battle fortresses, with legions of their slaves in tow, they entered the sea of Dark, beyond the first metaverse. An unknown amount of time passed while the Dragons fleet wandered lost within the Dark, until finally this, the second metaverse, was found.

“In the beginning, it was not known that this was a new metaverse. The Power of Life and Death were present, but the Dragons were never able to find the first universe, where their original home, Gaea, lay. Only after billions of years, when they encountered the Avatars of Life and Death, did they finally understand that this was new metaverse.

“As the children born of Life's womb, the Dragons tried to assert supremacy over what they saw as mere Avatars and were mercilessly beaten by Death. Pretending to capitulate, the Dragon left their holdings in this metaverse in the hands of their Alfar Whip-Masters and spent all their time and efforts seeking more Power.

“The Alfar were vain and jealous, much like the Dragons themselves, but unlike most Dragons, they were petty. They used their position to oppress and crush everything else beneath their feet. Bound by the collars made by the Dragons themselves, Dvergar and Valkyries became their playthings and generation upon generation were squandered in wars fought for purposes no greater than entertainments or bets among the Alfar. Many more were murdered and tortured for nothing other than the Alfar's pleasure.

“The Power that the Dragons eventually found was Primal. They gave themselves to Light and Dark. In the first metaverse, Life and Death forbade any and all beings from using Primal Power, but in this metaverse, the Dragons thought themselves above the whims of the mere Avatars of Life and Death. They tried to control Primal Power and became corrupted by it. Nothing of the metaverses of Life and Death can use Primal Power without being corrupted.

“Death came to the Dvergar and gave us the choice to fight against our creators or be destroyed along with them. Boran Second Father, the only one of the Five Fathers with the Dragon's fleet when it left the first metaverse, chose to fight. His heart and soul were filled with rage over the treatment that the Dragons allowed the Alfar to subject his children to. He felt betrayed by those whom he had served loyally for hundreds of billions or perhaps trillions of years.

“Death shattered the collars on the Dvergar and Valkyries, and they rose up against their creators. They destroyed the technology and tools of the Alfar, nearly exterminating the race. They slaughtered the little wyrms, the orcs, the goblins, the trolls, and all the other biological weapon systems of their creators, the Dragons. They killed every living Dragon they could find, and Boran Second Father slew Nidhoggr, the only thing akin to a father he had ever known, with Harbinger, the axe of the Avatar of Death himself.

“In the wake of the War of Slaughter, the Dvergar and Valkyries put aside their weapons and tools created with the Dragon's technology. All that was not destroyed was sealed in pocket dimensional Heritage Vaults, never to be touched from then to now. Only lesser weapons and armors were kept in clan vaults to be used a handful of times from then till now.” Boran pauses and watches me for a time.