by Casey Eanes
“Bring in the Synod.”
The double doors opened wide, and the Celestials strode into the throne room. Luken joined his fallen kin, he too bound to the Keys of Candor. They carried in with them the last portal, like pallbearers in a funeral. Grift’s body shook with fear at the sight. Seam had done all he had set out to do, and now the Five would be reunited.
There is no hope left for Candor. Aleph, have mercy on them. Grift knew in his heart that his part of Seam’s grand nightmare would soon end.
Bronson Donahue shuffled in behind the Synod, bearing the ebony sword of the High King on a plump purple cushion. He trailed the Synod and placed the sword on an ivory pillar at the bottom of the royal stairs. As he placed the weapon, he turned to bow low before Seam and exited the throne room.
The Serubs erected the last mirror of their kin and stood to the side as Seam spoke, his voice ringing in the hall like a thunderclap, his eyes locked on Grift Shepherd.
“Grift Shepherd of Lotte, today is the day of my justice. As your sovereign, I find you guilty in the Red Death of my father, High King Camden and of the former Sar of the Groganlands, Hagan Kara. Your punishment will be death by my choosing.”
Grift stood, the chains rattling around his hands and neck. He spoke, his voice strong and absolute. “There will be no justice done here today, Seam. Only more theatrics and hollow charades.”
Seam stood and pointed at his enemy. “Then by all means, Shepherd, enjoy the show.”
Seam stepped back and sat on his throne as a figure lurched through the open doors. Grift’s throat went dry and his body quaked as he watched his son lumber forward.
Kull clasped the glowing blue key tight against his chest and drew in a deep breath. He glanced back at Aleph who quietly nodded. Kull paused. “What is going to happen?”
“I will be with you. Your mother will be with you. We will all be with you.” The answer offered comfort, but Kull swallowed with fear as he stepped through the plane of the open portal. A blinding flash of light burst around Kull with a silent explosion that evaporated into a blanket of eternal darkness. Kull could feel himself as he was suspended in an empty void. He swiped his arms and feet but made contact with nothing. Neither rising or falling, Kull felt suspended in the darkness.
“Aleph!” Kull cried out. “What do I do?”
The void was silent and still, swallowing his cries. Nothing moved, nothing changed. Kull’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find any sign of an exit, a platform, anything that was real. In an instant, he felt his feet meet a solid floor. All other senses eluded him except the feeling of a hard floor underfoot. Kull prodded his mind. Focus on what you were given. Kull felt the Key radiating a brilliant energy beneath his shirt. He waited for another change.
Then, from the shadows, he caught a glimpse of five pinpricks of light gathering. He sprinted for the lights. As he grew closer, he noticed they were not lights at all, but each of the points of illumination he chased were keys. They pulsed with an incredible intensity that drew Kull in closer like a moth to the flame. The Keys clustered together as Kull reached for them.
The Keys shot forward and Kull felt a powerful blow land on his chest, sprawling him against the invisible floor. He scrambled to his feet and strained his eyes only to notice a form moving with incredible speed in the darkness. A man with the Keys lining his left arm stepped forward from the shadows, charging Kull. The being tackled him to the ground, pummeling him with a violent flurry of punches. Each time he tried to force himself up, the dark figure beat him back down to the floor.
The form continued to solidify, the solid shadow now fully the shape of a man. Kull jumped back and balled his fists with rage as he recognized his attacker. Seam Panderean.
“Kull!” Grift’s cry echoed through the chamber. He tore at his chains, but they held tight. Seam let out a loud laugh as he gloated over Grift. The Synod set the fifth and final mirror in place behind their chained prisoner. The four Serubs circled him like sharks, two to each side of Grift, leaving him surrounded. Seam ahead, the mirror behind, and the two Serubs on each side, Grift was surrounded, but still his only focus was on Kull. His son was alive, in front of him, standing next to Seam. How is this possible? Grift’s mind was a flurry of emotion as he stared at his son, speechless.
“Grift Shepherd, are you surprised to see your son alive? Would you beg for his release?” Seam pointed at him, standing from his throne. “Go ahead, Grift. Beg. You started a servant beneath my family’s feet, and here you are at my feet again. Everyone will bow before me in the end, Grift. No one escapes my power. No one.”
Grift opened his mouth and screamed at his son, his heart hammering in his chest. A primal energy swept through him as he furiously pushed against his bindings. “Kull. Run, son!” Grift continued to struggle against the shackles as they cut into his arms. Warm blood ran down his forearms as he fought his confinement.
Kull’s eyes turned toward Grift.
“Son! What is it? What is wrong?” Grift’s face emptied of its color as he realized the horrible truth. He glared at Seam, his haggard voice roaring through the hall. “What did you do to him? What did you do?”
Seam began to laugh. “Oh...my dear friend. Your son is completely fine. In fact, he is now much more useful to me than ever before.” Seam stared at Grift, savoring the moment before finally speaking.
“Grift, do you know that after you strip away the faculties that inhibit a person, you are left with a machine? A very complex and frightening machine that knows only one thing: hunger. Mankind, at the end of the day, is nothing more than a self-regulated monster afraid of realizing its true potential. So, I think it is time that you meet your son for who he truly is...I can tell he is ready to meet you.”
Grift’s hands shook with rage in his shackles as Seam stared at his son and said, “Go see your father, Kull.”
Kull turned and made his way down the ivory steps toward his father. When Grift saw his son’s eyes, he fully understood the horror before him. Milky, mottled eyes stared back at him, and Kull screeched, an inhuman cry that sent Grift reeling to the floor.
What was left of Kull was only morel. His body was being controlled, and all that he had been was gone. The sudden shock of hope at Kull’s appearance, and the searing loss coupled with rage sent tremors through Grift’s body. His hands shook uncontrollably and his breathing seized, but then a spark lit deep inside and he bolted against his chains again.
“Release me!” Grift shook in his chains like a rabid animal. “I will kill you! I will kill you!”
Seam stood to his feet and tiptoed down the large ivory steps in front of his throne. He reached for the ebony sword Bronson left for him. He plucked the blade from its pillar and swung it in the air before handing it to Kull. He slowly turned his face to Grift as a sinister grin stretched over his lips.
“Grift Shepherd of Lotte. I hereby condemn you to death by the sword.” Seam stepped to the side as Kull moved forward with the blade glimmering in his hands. Kull held the blade high above his head just as the High King issued another command. “Stop.” Seam stepped in front of Kull and stared at Grift like a cat who just caught a mouse. “On second thought, let’s make this fair. Unbind Shepherd and give him a blade. Let him at least try to defend himself from his son.”
Luken sprinted to unchain Grift and placed a twelve-inch hunting knife in his hands. Luken’s tortured eyes spoke a thousand words as he shared a glance with Grift. The other Serubs all had filthy grins painted on their faces, enjoying the scene that was unfolding. Grift clasped the knife given to him by his friend and locked burning eyes onto Seam. As the locks popped off, Grift charged forward.
Grift lost himself in the moment, lunging for Seam with all he had, as a fountain of pain erupted from his thigh. He fell to the ground, grasping for his right leg, wounded by Kull’s blade. Grift rolled to the side as Kull hammered his blade down again, striking the stone floor. Grift scrambled to his feet and made a hobbled leap for Seam,
ignoring Kull entirely, swiping his blade but grossly missing his mark. He fell to his stomach and felt a piercing explosion of pain in his left leg as Kull drove his blade through his calf.
“AGHH!” Grift let out a wail like a banshee and swiped back, smashing his knife against the obsidian blade that threatened to dive into him again. The force knocked Kull’s grip free but Grift was crippled with pain. Heavy black shadows swirled and closed in on his vision. Aleph...help. Grift drew in a deep breath and pulled the sword from his leg while screaming out, shaking the room with his guttural cry.
“Stop, Kull! Please, son. Please stop.”
Tears rolled down Grift’s face as he cried out. He tried to push himself across the floor away from what had once been his son, but his two ravaged legs refused to obey him.
“Stop, Kull! Please, son. Please stop.”
The voice was unmistakable. Kull froze at the sound of his father’s voice and the shadow figure slammed its fist against his jaw, taking advantage of the opening. Kull slid across the floor before leaping back to his feet and charging his assailant. He ran full force and propelled himself into the dark creature’s belly, bringing them both crashing to the floor. Kull hammered his fist down on the specter’s head, but each blow simply passed through the image of Seam, crashing his knuckles against the hard floor.
“You cannot win, Shepherd. Stop fighting and accept your death.”
Seam’s voice sent a shiver through Kull, making him punch harder. The specter swung a heavy fist inward. Kull ducked to the side and grasped hold of the five Keys locked around his enemy’s arm. He clamped upon them, refusing to release his grip as the shadowy figure of Seam struggled beneath his grasp.
“I will finish you, Seam!” cried Kull as he swung again, this time his fist colliding against a solid skull.
“I will finish you, Seam!” The words silenced the room. The Serubs gasped, each glancing at one another and then back to Seam, whose face was contorted and absent from the present fight unfolding.
Grift, laying in a pool of his own blood, reached for Kull’s arm and cried out. “Kull! Are you there?”
A loud groan emitted from Seam’s lips, and he blinked his eyes furiously as his focus locked onto Grift with intense purpose. Kull’s hand knocked back Grift’s arm, ripping up his knife. Kull held the blade and stared blankly at his father before slamming it through his chest. A warm sensation coursed through Grift, followed by a harrowing deep chill. He shuttered as the cold wrapped around him, blood gurgling from his lips. He choked for breath and reached up, touching Kull’s face with a bloody hand. A tear rolled down his cheek as he fought to speak.
“I love you, Kull. I love you, boy. I...”
Grift fell limp and crumpled to the floor at his son’s feet.
Seam stepped forward with arms outstretched, a warm, albeit unsettled, smile on his face. “This, my friends, is justice being served. This is the price all will pay for challenging me and my authority.”
A red flash burst from behind the King’s throne. Willyn surged forward bearing a long blade in her hand. With one swift motion, she swung her weapon, lopping Seam’s arm clean at the elbow while a gas grenade spun across the floor. Seam roared as blood spewed from his severed stump and the Keys of Candor fell to the ground.
Kull’s body collapsed to the floor, covering his fallen father as Seam’s control was released.
The Synod pounced into the chaos as Seam’s limp arm fell to the ground, but the room was heavy with a thick cloud of smoke. Alarms blared and red lights flashed as emergency vents clicked to life, sucking the smoke from the room. Willyn dove for the bloody bracer and lifted it in the air as she stepped back from the Synod circling her like feral wolves. She pulled a pistol from her hip, aiming it at Arakiel and then swinging it toward each of the other Serubs.
Her cold killer eyes widened with shock as they fell on Luken. Luken’s own eyes were filled with a mixture of terror and relief. Willyn jumped back and edged closer to the fifth and final mirror. “I know your secret. I know whoever holds this bracer and the Keys controls you all.” Willyn reached down and activated a beacon on her wrist.
“Drop them, girl!” snarled Arakiel as he pointed at Seam’s withered body. “You have no clue of what you speak. They will only kill you in the end.”
Willyn scanned the room and locked on the door as it buckled from an explosion. Bronson and his small platoon burst in the room, gunfire erupting over the Serubs with fully automatic bursts. The bullets smacked against them, pulling their attention from Willyn as she darted for the one person she had been waiting on. Hagan pushed through the crowd and met her in the center of the room in front of the final glass mirror.
Luken turned from the fray and ran for Willyn screaming, “What are you doing, Willyn!?” Panic was laced in his voice and his eyes were wide with desperation. Willyn lifted the bracer and its five Keys into the air.
“I am giving it to the one person I can actually trust!”
“No, Willyn! No!” Luken sped forward but it was too late. Willyn handed the bracer over to Hagan, who gladly accepted it. He beamed with pride as he ripped the remains of Seam’s arm from the bracer and slid it over his own. He examined the five Keys and smiled widely, sighing with relief. “Thank you, dear sister.”
“No! Aleph above. No!” Luken’s voice slowed and was muffled as Hagan’s face transformed in the chaos. His countenance grew and swelled with power. His health and former glory returned. Willyn’s heart swelled, knowing her brother had finally returned and now all would be made right again. He would be able to right Seam’s wrongs, restoring the Groganlands and Candor back to glory.
Hagan looked at Willyn and he smiled his familiar broad smile until his face shifted and morphed like a pond’s surface rippling with violent energy. Willyn’s heart hammered in her chest as Hagan’s face disappeared and transformed into someone Willyn remembered all too well.
“Hello, Willyn. Remember me?” Isphet stood beaming as he slithered out from the glass portal. “I have enjoyed our little game. My time in your head was actually quite pleasant, but I am afraid it is now complete. You have been most useful to me.” Isphet flashed his serrated teeth and whispered, “Goodbye.”
The fallen deity held out his hand that burned with a yellow radiant power. Willyn stood frozen in a stupor as all her hopes and dreams were ripped away from her.
Isphet raised his hands toward her, but she was tackled to the ground, just as a hot blast of fire flashed over her head. The burst of heat smashed against the marble floor, ripping through it as if it were paper. Luken huddled over Willyn and held out his hand toward his enemy, releasing an invisible attack that staggered Isphet for a moment.
Isphet blinked and stared down at Luken, smiling viciously. “Ah, my traitorous brother. I see you are still up to your wicked ways, loving these wretched animals.”
“Isphet!” Arakiel’s voice rattled the room, laced with panic and anxiety. “We have been waiting for you.”
Arakiel stood at the front of the room with Nyx, Bastion, and Abtren flanking his sides, each of their eyes wide with dread.
Isphet cackled and held up the bracer in his hand. “Well, look at us all! Our precious family has gathered together once more.” Each of the Serubs as well as Luken lurched upwards, dangling midair as if an invisible cord had been noosed around their necks. The five Celestials orbited around Isphet, the bracer of the Keys glowing with unholy fire.
“I do like family reunions. Such a shame that we’ve been so distant really.” Isphet roared with mad laughter.
Pain ignited on each of the Serubs’ faces as Isphet’s laughter began to swell, as if his power was fueled by their pain. “Now that I have your attention, I must ask each of you, for I am very curious...what did your time on the other side teach you?” Isphet’s horrible red eyes locked onto Nyx’s. “Nyx, darling sister, you go first.” The orbit ceased and Nyx was brought face to face with her brother.
She screamed at him like a hawk,
“There was nothing on the other side! Nothing! Release me!”
“Wrong answer, Nyx...and no, let’s not hurry this process. I’m still very interested in what others have to say. There is no hurry...I’ve been waiting to talk to my family for such a long time.”
Willyn slowly shuffled back from the gods’ conversation, her face a sheer white sheet of fear. As she backed away, she whispered to herself, “What have I done? What have I done?” The truth of Isphet’s deception made her feel as if all her insides had been emptied out. She was hollow, empty, and dead. Dead. Just like Hagan.
She threw her gaze over to Seam Panderean, who lay in a massive pool of his own blood. He lay staring at the ceiling, his face blank with resignation. He muttered quietly to himself as his eyelids fluttered open and shut, fighting to retain consciousness.
Willyn shook as Isphet moved through the room, bearing the terrible Keys of Candor.
“Oh, but I can’t resist. Nyx, perhaps you’re right, why should we wait any longer? Arakiel.” Arakiel swung in toward Isphet as Nyx moved away.
Isphet paused for several seconds as he scanned Arakiel’s stone-faced expression. “You still think yourself the greatest of our kind? Our leader? Our new majesty?” Isphet gave a quick, almost playful curtsey if not for the horrible scowl on his face. “Ha. Tell me, Arakiel, what did you learn on the other side?”
Isphet’s eyes were cold and dead as he stared through Arakiel. Arakiel bore long fangs and growled at Isphet as he hung, suspended in the air. “I learned what you are.”
Isphet offered a smirk as he drew Arakiel in closer. “Really? Well, that is very interesting. You’re smarter than you look, brother. But let’s keep that between you and I then, shall we?”
Isphet’s hands flew out and clasped Arakiel’s face. Arakiel let out a scream that shook the entire top floor of the Spire. The black, polished slate floor cracked under Isphet’s feet as he bit into his brother’s neck, releasing a torrent of black blood. Isphet hung there gorging into Arakiel, drawing in Arakiel’s essence. Arakiel’s form shifted in Isphet’s grip as he morphed from man to lion and back again, writhing with pain under Isphet’s grasp. With every passing second, violent vibrations grew, emanating from under Isphet’s feet. Soon the thick glass walls of the Spire undulated and burst in unison, as the Spire quaked from Isphet’s submission of Arakiel.