Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series) (13 page)

"We will take all of them, unless you wish to keep some with you. I will only need five or so Dirujen to go along to control them. A handful of
us can
handle them."

"All 50? Are you sure about that?"

"T
here were 48
total
a
nd
t
wo have died, leaving
only
4
6
of them now. But all that remain seem healthy. We have buried the two who have fallen in fear of a disease spreading. Other than that, they have not given us any trouble, and all obey."

"Your leader Lohken told me similar things last time."

Mekkal picked a bit of fuzz from his jacket. "There are no males this time.
The markings on their backs
mean they are all female
.
It is not possible to
run into the same problems we had las
t time
. Besides, it is my hope that Lohken has captured our troublemaking cousin Vohlhemoneer by now.
Last time he was able to control the animals and thwart our plans
, but he
should not pose any further threat to us."

The Thrahks that had proven to be such a terrible problem in the battle near Burnhamheade in the autumn were once again among the Bhoors' arsenal. It was a decision made when the Dirujen had realized that a large herd of the creatures had w
andered north from their lands,
apparently in search of the missing Thrahks that had been captured and used in the battle. More than 100 had roamed into Bhoor-Rahn, but when the Dirujen had discovered them, they immediately began slaughtering the males. The Dirujen had decided that the remaining females would be easier to control, as the females were wont to follow the males
and mimic their actions
. It was far too dangerous to use both males and females and risk one of the males losing control again. The last time that
had
happened
,
the animals had destroyed a significant portion of the Bhoors' army.

The Zidaoz yawned. "Have you heard any report from Lohken? Is he on his way back to Bhoor-Rahn, or will he meet us on the battlefield?"

"I do not know, Zidaoz. We have not received any report from him. I assume he will try to return to Bhoor-Rahn, but he will probably see us when we cross the plains going into Medora.
He was told that we were going to slaughter the beasts, so he will be taken by surprise if he sees them. But h
e will understand what is happening and
hopefully
join us then."

"What makes you think he is still alive? He should have returned to us weeks ago."

"He is immortal. He cannot be killed. He may have been caught up in some sort of trouble, but he i
s still alive, I can assure you of that."

The Zidaoz huffed a quiet, jealous huff. For as long as the line of his fathers had ruled Bhoor-Rahn, it was their dream to be immortal. Every one of them had lied and claimed that they
were
immortal; each son claiming that they were in fact the father that came before
him
. The people of Bhoor-Rahn all believed that there had only ever been a single Zidaoz, and any who dared to question the lie were put to death.

But he was different than his fathers before him. He had searched the world between worlds and actually found the great god Rohni.
His mission was to please his god and earn true immortality. It had become clear to him that the name Rohni was one of many names that his god used. Some people from other lands knew him by other names—one being "Inshae"
, and another being "Oderion"
. The people of the west falsely believed that Rohni was a god among many other gods, which most certainly drew Rohni's ire. There was only one god; a single divine being that oversaw all creation and
all
destruction.

The Zidaoz himself would oversee the total destruction of the west, and the creation of a new world devoid of the filth and greed of the Medorans and Vindyri. Those who would accept the truth of the one god Rohni would be
enslaved, but spared, and
any who did not would
be sent to the next world unprepared. Their blood would crash down on the new world, wave after
glorious
wave, drowning the hopes of the last few who
chose to resist
. Only then could there be peace. Only then could the Bhoors lay down their swords and break the shafts of their arrows.

And in a few days the final war would begin. He would tear down every blasphemous temple and building.
Every block of marble
and
granite would be thrown into the ocean.
He would use the Vindyri and the Thrahks to annihilate the Medorans, and then turn his armies on the Vindyri
who helped him
.
They had done much the same thing to the Medorans, and deserved their
fate
for their traitorous ways.

Soon the rivers would run red with blood. Soon all would worship Rohni.

Chapter
16

Song dropped the charcoal onto the paper, ruining some of the perfect lines. His headache had suddenly intensified greatly, and for a moment his vision flashed white. He brought his hand up to his forehead to try to comfort himself, not realizing that he was smearing his face with charcoal from his fingertips.

Daphne noticed and gave an attentive bark. Song ignored her as he tried to deal with the sudden pain. He opened and shut his jaw a few times, hoping that it
would somehow help. He realized
he was forcing his eyes closed very hard as he grimaced, and so he relaxed and opened them, again in a futile effort to dull the pain.

He began to realize that something was very wrong. He had never had a headache come on so quickly, and it didn't feel the same as other headaches. This was a piercing pain right behind his eyes, and not an aching throb throughout his skull. He stood in a panic,
pushing away the nearly perfect charco
al drawing,
smearing it in the process. He didn't know what good standing would do, but he did not want to remain seated.

Then the world got wavy. The pain somehow materialized in the real world and all the objects in his vision looked as if they were under water. He felt a bit of dizziness, but not enough to send him to the floor. Daphne had jumped down off the bed to come to his side. She barked, but he could not hear it. He reached down to calm her, but he could not feel her fur on his palm.

He began to think that he was about to die, and a cold panic shot through his body. He had not yet done enough. He had not had a chance to truly leave his mark on the world and no one would remember him except his dog. Guilt and sorrow filled his soul as he thought about how sad she would be with him gone. The poor dog would probably starve to death before anyone ever realized that he had died.
The thought of her dying alone and sad began to haunt him more than the idea of dying himself.

Then the noise began. There was a distant, high-pitched screech
beginning to drill into
his skull. It grew in volume and intensity until even the pain he was feeling was preferable by comparison. It was as if every sound in the entire world was being made all at once, and it completely drowned out all reality. Nothing was real except the terrible, twisted sound of all of eternity screaming between his ears.

And then something truly odd
occurred. After what seemed like hours of unbearable noise, there was a lull. But it was not just a period of quiet in the chaos; it was a clearing of his vision as well. It was as if all of his senses were experiencing the exact same phenomenon, and not separate elements of an event.
His ears no longer rang with the horrid sound, and his eyes no longer beheld the world. His vision was gone, and yet he could see. His hearing was gone, and yet he could hear. He was experiencing the world in an entirely new way, but the world he expected to see was no longer there. His dog and his home were gone. The walls were not there. The ground beneath him was not there. The ceiling or sky he expected above him was missing. What he saw was emptiness. It was not b
lack, as if his eyes were shut—it
was nothing.

Then suddenly the words rolled by him. They were written words, mostly in his own handwriting, but they were unfamiliar to him. They were old words that he could not read with his eyes but his mind somehow knew them anyway. They raced passed him in his vision, teaching him things that made no sense to his mind but spoke clearly to his soul.

Amulets and jewels surrounded him. Weapons and
armor appeared from the emptiness. Information streamed into him and he soaked it all in. It made no sense, but he watched it all happening and tried to understand why. The sun rose and set ten thousand times. The ice of winter thawed into summer rain. The green leaves burned away in the inferno of autumn. This happened over and over countless times in a beautiful display or perpetual, reliable change. It was the heartbeat of reality manifested.

And then there was the blackness. It was beyond any darkness he could ever have imagined, and he instantly knew it was the pit of the void itself. He stared right into the open jaws of the terrible nothing
; that devourer of souls. It called to him to enter so that his soul could momentarily sate its unquenchable hunger for the spirits of men.

But the void held no power over him and he remained in that strange world between it and reality. He watched inside the void and saw passed the blackness. There were things inside that nothingness. There were
swirling
, boiling souls squirming to find an exit. There were cities of men in realms unimagined. There were creatures of all shapes and sizes clawing or biting, but there were also beautiful creatures gliding through the void with perfect grace.

He realized that he was not looking into the void itself, but the words were showing him
what was inside. The image was only painted in his mind with the words he saw rolling by in his vision. But the words were not part of that vision—they were entirely real.

And then the blackness returned, only to be sealed shut. The armor and jewels whirled around him once more. A familiar golden sword entered his vision, hovering in front of him with the blade pointed downward. It slowly got closer and began to vibrate and dance with light. An otherworldly humming sound accompanied the light, and he could not look away. He made an attempt to reach out to touch the sword, only to discover that he had no hands to touch with. In fact, he had no body at all. This startled him and his fear of being dead returned. He turned around to try to get back to his world
where his dog was surely waiting.

What he saw next frightened him to his core.

Chapter 1
7

Gorin smelled the men on the wind long before he ever saw them. They crept carefully over the hills and through the trees, but the relentless rattle of their clinking arm
or had given away their position
long ago. Gorin could smell their
salty,
stale sweat drying on their skin. He could almost taste it on his tongue. The sharp smell of their metal armor could almost be mistaken for the metallic scent of blood; the wonderful aroma filling him with
joy and
excitement.

Just over the hill, a small group of Vindyri soldiers made their rounds, doing their best to monitor their assigned area. A quick count showed there were about 20 of them, but none of them had even drawn a weapon yet.
Oddly enough, they had not seen Gorin standing there on
a
hill
in the open
.

He had removed his cloak to expose his massive frame to the soldiers approaching. The purplish color of his skin should have been enough to draw their a
ttention, but it seemed that they were more interested in talking amongst themselves and even joking. They had no idea that danger waited for them mere yards away.

Then one of the soldiers looked up. The man's terrified look brought a snarl of a smile to Gorin's face and he let out a deep growl. The rest of the soldiers paused in confusion for a moment before they saw what their companion saw. When they all finally realized that an enemy stood before them, a wave of fear shuddered through their ranks.

One of them men spoke up, his little human voice squeaking. "Who goes there?"

Gorin growled louder, ending his growl with his name. "Gorin is my name."

"What manner of beast are you?" a man stuttered.

Gorin's response was nothing but another growl. His face most likely showed nothing but anger and malice, but he was actually having a lot of fun. Striking fear into a large group of men was a very special feeling. Most of the time he detested his own appearance, but at times like these, he was happy with his curse—even a little proud.

Another one of the soldiers spoke up, this one a little braver and less squeaky. "What is your business here? We patrol this area and it is off limits at this time."