“Thank you, Sir.”
The air trembled from the exertion of power, and the streets started to clear as weaker beings sensed the potential for a fight. But the General wasn’t that stupid. Keeping their Lord waiting was something even he wouldn’t survive if the Prince wanted a pound of flesh. With a final nod, the General’s wings unfurled and he threw himself back into the sky and headed east. He accelerated away until the condensed cloud of pressure built around him and the boom of him breaking the sound barrier rattled the city.
The Prince wouldn’t like it if he was later either.
The forges weren’t what someone would expect. Prince Seere’s kingdom had a distinct medieval, Viking taste to it, but the forges were nothing like the ones Gerry had seen when growing up in eighteenth century Boston. For one thing, they were buried hundreds of feet under the city. Second, they were more flaming inferno industrial center than forge.
One thing he seemed to have gained from his recent upgrade was a more modern understanding of Hell, complete with imagery that wasn’t drawn by monks in the fifteenth century. According to a more modern interpretation, Hell was all fire, brimstone, red-skinned devils, and endless pain. The interpretation was close to some other kingdoms, but the opposite of Prince Seere’s, except for the forges.
The forges burned in the true fires of Hell. Flames of every color leapt into the air as Gerry entered through a guarded door after descending through a twisting tunnel. Men and women in heavy protective clothing tended the flames, poured molten metal into the forges, mass produced ammunition, rifled giant artillery pieces, and built the Infernal Iron armor that protected generals and knights like Gerry. Even with the masks, goggles, and heavy black fabric smocks, their skin was still a fire-engine red.
A dozen members of the Prince’s personal guard were scattered around the room while another half dozen stood guard by a wrought iron gate in the rear. They nodded to Gerry as he passed, and watched him go. He heard them whisper before he was out of earshot. Rumors already seemed to be spreading about his change.
“Gerry!” Prince Seere smiled and clapped when he came into view. The blue fire coming from the corner of the small chamber danced off his rows of teeth. “Right on time.”
Gerry went down on one knee and bowed his head low.
“Get up.” The giant waved away the gesture of submission. “Today is just too exciting for silly formalities.”
Gerry could physically feel the excitement. The air itself seemed to dance with the Prince’s positive mood.
“He’s always like a kid in a candy shop when he comes down here.” A raspy voice announced and a woman stepped out of the blue fire.
Or at least Gerry thought she was a woman.
Whatever he wanted to categorize her as, she was hunched over and shuffled across the floor toward him. She had on a dark black hooded robe that seemed the push back the blue light of the flames. The creature’s face was buried deep in the shadow of the hood, but she reached out with hands like old, gnarled tree roots to take Seere’s hand and kiss his signet ring.
“Only because I get to see you again,” Seere answered charmingly. “It’s been too long.” Then he turned to Gerry.
“Gerry, this is the Carver. She will be preparing you for your next assignment.”
“Ma’am.” Gerry respectfully bowed to the woman. After all, Seere was treating her like an old friend, which meant she was important.
She ignored his greeting and shuffled around him in a wide circle. “I can work with him.” The hood bobbed as she nodded. “Tell him already so we can get down to business.”
Seere rolled his eyes at her, but then fixed Gerry with a serious stare.
“I changed you for a reason, Gerry.” The power of his voice told Gerry just how important the conversation was. “I needed a man of your reputation, a man with your skill, and a man with your tactical knowledge.” He held up a finger to stop Gerry’s reply. “I know you underplay it, and most of the credit goes to your mentor. But you see things others do not, and what you don’t see you are able to overcome.” He gave his wings a shake, but the dried blood that was permanently apart of them didn’t budge. “Yesterday, the test with Lydia was to see if you were able to cope with a betrayal from one closest to you. You succeeded, with quick and brutal efficiency, and that’s the attitude I need going forward.”
Gerry was feeling pretty good about himself after all the praise.
“But Gerald couldn’t accomplish this mission. Gerald was too stuck in the past, too rooted in his time. Gerry is better. Gerry is more equipped for the modern age. And it is Gerry who will go forth and be my Dux.”
“Dux? My Lord?” Gerry wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
“A Dux is a leader. Dux are the trusted advisors who administer the other cities in my kingdom. Dux are the elite, the most trusted, and the most powerful of all my subjects.”
Gerry thought, and Seere smiled as if he’d heard it.
“I am honored to be your Dux.” Gerry started to get down on one knee again, but remembered the earlier reprimand, and instead just bowed his head in thanks.
“And as my Dux,” Seere rolled over his thanks. “You must be better than what you are, and that is where the Carver comes in.”
The gate clanged open and a company of men grunted, heaved, and pushed a solid block of Infernal Iron into the room. A second smaller group followed behind with a smaller block of some white substance. They deposited the blocks in front of the Carver, bowed at a ninety degree angle to all three of them, and retreated back through the gate.
“Craft him something beautiful, sweet creature.”
“As always, my Lord.” She reached back with her gnarled hands and kissed his ring again.
“When she has finished with you come to my throne. I promised you a story.” He flashed his glittering teeth and followed the laborers out of the gate.
Gerry was left alone with the Carver, and he felt much more vulnerable than when the Prince was present. In the last twenty-four hours he’d seen a kinder side to his liege, if you didn’t count the organized assassination attempt. But other than that things were going well.
“You have nothing to fear from me, mortal.” The Carver shuffled over toward the blocks of material and softly caressed them.
They seemed to pulse when she touched them.
“I serve the Fallen One. His will is my duty.” She reached out with her twisted hand and beckoned him closer.
As she made the gesture the limb split over and over again until it was comprised of only fine, thin roots. “Come closer, Dux. So I can see you.”
Gerry didn’t want to go anywhere near the freaky woman. But he didn’t have a choice. He felt a pull at his core, partially a calling from the Carver, and part an urging of his duty to his Prince.
“What are you going to do?” Gerry asked, stepping into the woman’s embrace.
Her root-like limbs slithered all over him. They covered his eyes, brushed his lips, and slipped down into his armor to trace his body in every intimate detail.
But the sensation was a two-way street. He felt the Carver too.
The Carver wasn’t human, she wasn’t a person’s soul twisted by the harshness of Hell. She wasn’t like Prince Seere, and she wasn’t one of Beelzebub’s abominations. She was something old, very old, something powerful, and something eternally comfortable in Hell.
“I’m going to make you.” The Carver gave a shudder that was way too sexual for Gerry’s taste.
Gerry didn’t know what to say to that, but he was grateful that she seemed to be withdrawing herself from him. When her limbs had fully retracted she turned and shuffled the few feet to the smaller white block. She pressed herself against it and her limbs began to spread all around i
t.
Suddenly, the spreading stopped, and the Carver turned her hooded head back toward him. “Do you have any requests?”
“Requests?” Gerry was still coming to grips with what she was doing.
Now the “requests” question was making sense. Prince Seere had said he was being changed, and that seemed to mean more than a mental upgrade. Whatever his job as a Dux required, the body of an Infernal Knight wasn’t going to cut it.
“I can make you tall, short, muscular, thin, mighty or meek. I can endow you enough to make the Whore of Babylon blush, or I could remove any and all temptations of the flesh.”
Gerry’s hand reflexively moved protectively to his groin. “I’d like to remain as much myself as possible.” Gerry stated, but then really considered her offer. “Make me tall, muscular, mighty, and I don’t think I need any help in the endowment department.” He stopped short of winking at her.
For all he knew she’d give him a vagina out of spite.
His requests weren’t all motivated by vanity. If he was to be a Dux he was going to be a representative of his Lord in a much larger capacity than a mere knight. He was going to be a decision-maker, a man beyond mere individual power. A man like that needed to be the physical embodiment of strength. Internally, Gerry understood that some would wish to fool others with feigned weakness, but that wasn’t his style.
“Very well. Return in a day and you will be complete.” The Carver turned back to the block of white material and went to work.
He didn’t have any idea how this day could get more interesting.
Let There Be Light
The golden hall was mostly empty except for Prince Seere’s guard. The thousand-man brawl from last night was over. You’d think that would be a given after a solid twelve hours, but you’d be wrong. The cleanup effort was still ongoing. Dozens of men and women were sweeping ash into dustpans, and others had rags and hot water to scrub away the blood.
Gerry walked the long hallway, savoring the warmth all the way to the throne room. Thankfully, Lydia was gone. Whether he was Gerald or Gerry, Gerry was pretty sure he’d kill that bitch again if he saw her anytime soon. Some things with the newly appointed Dux had changed, but others hadn’t. He was now more polite, courteous, and considerate to everyone he met, but he still had a plan to kill them all; and he would do it in a heartbeat.
“My Lord.” He dropped to a knee before Seere, who was lounging on his throne.
“That was quick.” Seere gave a flap of his bloodstained wings and the doors slid silently shut.
Gerry was now alone with the most powerful creature he’d ever met and his personal guard.
Seere sensed the trepidation, or read Gerry’s mind. The new Dux couldn’t tell which, but the giant smiled comfortingly.
“You really need to relax, Gerry. I’m putting too much time and effort into you to just kill you. So,” he waved off Gerry’s feelings like a bad smell. “I hope the Carver treated you well. She has an…unique sense of humor.”
Gerry really wanted to ask what she was, but thought better of it. “Yes, Sir. She’s one of a kind.”
“You have no idea, but enough of that.” Seere beckoned him forward. “I promised you a tale to clarify everything. So pop a squat and listen.” With a wave he dismissed his personal guards. Whatever he was about to tell Gerry, it was for his ears only.
“I’m going to tell you about the story of this.” He waved his arms dramatically. “It’s the story of you, the story of me, the story of everything.”
He sighed and sat back down on his golden throne.
“In the beginning, everything in the universe was tightly packed into a pocket-sized sphere. Or at least that’s what I’m told. Nobody was around when the universe was small, no matter what religion tells you.”
Religion was a touchy subject in Hell for obvious reasons. So touchy, everyone refrained from using words like “God” and “Holy”, even if they were being used blasphemously. This was the first time Gerry had heard anyone, much less Seere himself, talk about religion.
“Then there was light!” Seere clapped his hands, which made Gerry jump and the hall tremble. He chuckled at Gerry’ surprised expression. “The sphere exploded and it released the æther.”
“Aether?” Gerry couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What’s æther?”
“Humans don’t have a firm grasp on what æther is, but the closest description I can think of is God.”
Gerry took that in and digested it.
“But don’t confuse the human interpretation of God and æther as the same thing, because they most definitely are not.” Seere’s face soured. “Aether is something that links all things. It is the fundamental building block of the universe. Atomic and subatomic particles are a full order of magnitude larger than æther. Normal humans haven’t discovered and will likely never discover æther.” Seere said the last part condescendingly. Like humans were dirt.
“But enough about æther. All you need to know is that it is the true source of power in the universe.” Seere curled his hand into a fist. “Out of this explosion of æther the first ethereal creatures were born, and that is where humans get confused. The God they so foolishly worship was one of these primeval creatures. He is comprised of æther, and can control it, but he’s not omnipotent and omniscient. He’s just as flawed as the rest of us.”
Now Gerry knew Seere was speaking from personal experience.
“So the first ethereal creatures swim around the cosmos for a few billion years; fighting, fucking, and generally doing whatever the hell they want.” Seere continued. “But you can only screw around for so long before you get bored. So they started to build. But ‘build’ isn’t the right word,” Seere scratched his chin. “You could say this is the moment of creation, but that’s egotistical and only plays into my father’s narrative.”
Gerry really wanted to delve into that a bit more, but Seere rolled right over anything he might have said.
“Whoever was left of the ethereal creatures created their realms of power. One of them created Earth. Another created Hell. My father created Heaven, and others created other realms that even I’ve only heard myths about.” Seere frowned. “And then there was peace. Everyone was too busy working on their own creations that they left each other alone.”
“Now, the scope of our story focuses down to Heaven, Hell, and Earth; or the Higher, Middle and Lower Realms respectively. I know what created the middle realm but it disappeared before my birth or when I was very young. Either way I didn’t pay attention. But I do remember the First War of Conquest.” His expression softened, like he was remembering better days.
“My father.” It hardened back to stone at the mention of the name. “The one you all call God, conquered the middle realm and captured its æther. My and my siblings fought a war against the creatures that inhabited it. We killed most, and stripped what was left of nearly all their power. Then my loving father ‘remade the world in his own image’.” Seere used air quotes ironically. “He fostered the growth of humans in his new creation. He fashioned their souls to fill with that realms æther, and then be drawn back to his realm when their mortal form died. Then he charged us, his firstborns, his angels, with stewardship over his new flock.”
If Seere had looked upset before he looked royally pissed off now. Gerry valued his head so he didn’t even breathe until the Lord of Hell got his emotions back under control.
“Naturally,” Seere said through gritted teeth. “Many of my brothers and sisters didn’t agree with what was demanded of us.”
Gerry couldn’t relate. His father had always shown him love and support, but he could imagine having a cold, distant, power-hungry father would suck.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your sympathy!” Seere roared, shaking that hall.
The very sound of his voice practically fileted flesh. If Gerry hadn’t been wearing Infernal Iron he would have been killed.
Seere glared at him, but slowly regained his composure.
“My father gave us power to do our duties. Power drawn from Heaven. Like him, we are creatures of æther, and can control and manipulate it to our will. But unlike him, we don’t have the sheer capacity, which made it difficult to resist.” Seere surprised Gerry by giving a short chuckle. “My father is like that CEO or President who always holds onto fifty-one percent of a company’s stock just so he can do whatever he wants with an organization. Then he left the running of it to us.”
“That’s hardly fair.” The three words escaped Gerry’s mouth before he bit down hard on his tongue.
“It most certainly wasn’t.” Seere gave him an affirming nod. “So we tried to do something about it.”
Seere’s eyes glazed over at the fond memory. “The War of Rebellion.” He sighed. “Its entirety isn’t well documented in human texts because of how close we really got. I can still remember it. Lucifer and Satan fighting Amenadiel and Metatron in my father’s throne room, Seraphim against Seraphim. They destroyed my father’s palace in the process, and I laughed as it burned.” Seere’s lips pulled back into his truly terrifying smile.
This time Gerry kept his mouth shut and waited for his Lord, an angel from Heaven, started to speak again.
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