War God for Hire- Gladiator

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War God for Hire- Gladiator Page 4

by David Burke


  “If you open your mind and let me see these memories, I may be able to understand better. In turn, that should help me know how best to aid you. Normally, if you were some reborn mortal, I wouldn’t even have to ask, but given who you are, I prefer to tread carefully,” Ild’engel said.

  “Not sure how I feel about letting you poke around inside my head, but then again, I guess you’re already in there. But if I let you do this, I expect you to start answering my questions. Do we have a deal?” he asked.

  “Yes. I am bound to you. I must serve you just as I served your original incarnation. I will explain what I can today, but you will need to understand that the amount I can explain is limited by your progress. Once you gather enough essence, I will be able to physically manifest instead of being stuck here.”

  Not knowing what else to say, he replied, “Fair enough.”

  A part of Kyle wanted to ask more questions, but he had learned that sometimes it was just best to let things play out. Besides, the idea of her physically manifesting and putting a face to that voice was enticement enough.

  She didn’t say another word before he felt as though someone was shifting through his memories. Almost too quickly to follow, images popped up. It was sorta like that thing they say happens right before you die, where your entire life flashes before your eyes.

  The summary that Kyle felt from what he saw was his commitment to being the best. It was obvious in the way that he would never give up, never accept being second place. One of his favorite expressions, in fact, was that second place was simply the first loser.

  It was clear he had a drive inside of him. A fire, so to speak, that consumed everything else around him with his need to excel. But in looking at his own memories, he also felt a rush of sadness. He may have been the best to ever play the game, but he was also alone. Sure, there were women happy to be on his arm, guys happy to drink on his tab, even parents who were proud of him.

  None of those people understood him, though, and he had never built a lasting relationship with them. Here in this alien world, stripped of all the prestige and accomplishments that he had worked for, Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if it had been worth it. Would his life have seemed more meaningful, if he had connected with those around him?

  Even with his parents, he’d been distant. It was more of an arm’s length relationship. Oh sure, he had bought them a big house and paid off all their debt when he signed his first contract extension after being named rookie of the year.

  As for members of the fairer sex, a larger number of faces than Kyle expected ran before his eyes. He had never had trouble getting a girlfriend, even back in high school. Everyone loved a winner, but none of them really did it for him. Now looking at it from this perspective, he had to wonder if it was because he hadn’t allowed any of them to mean that much to him.

  After what felt like quite a while, Kyle heard Ild’engel in his head again. “At least I can understand why he chose you. Your world may be full of overgrown children who play games for a living and more games for entertainment, but you have the same drive for victory that Krig had. The only real difference is how you seem to have made time for dalliances with a number of women, even if you never formed any real connections.”

  “Of course. What’s the point of winning if you don’t get to collect the spoils, so to speak?” Kyle asked.

  Ild’engel laughed with that same rich tone that made him feel like he was being wrapped in velvet. “Oh, you may be more fun than I had anticipated. Now I’m actually excited for the day that you gain enough control to let me manifest. Well, assuming that you live that long.”

  Despite the ominous statement, Kyle chose to focus on moving things forward. “So, now that you’ve read the book on me, can we get to the part where you explain a bit more about where I am and what is going on?”

  She paused.

  Kyle wasn’t quite sure how he knew she paused, as she was just a voice inside his head, but that was still the impression he got.

  Finally, she continued. “Verden is another world in a different plane of the universe. I see from your memories that you played some games that talked about the idea of the multiverse or different planes of existence.”

  “Yeah, so does that make Verden the afterlife? I was never quite sure I believed in that, and now that I’m here, I can’t tell if I made it into heaven or if this is hell.” Kyle laughed in his head as he spoke to her.

  “Your concepts of heaven and hell are only fragments of the truth. The reality is that each plane of existence is like a bubble within the depths of the sea. It is possible to travel from one plane to another, so long as one has the power to do so. But you have to cross the gray emptiness of the void to do it. Only divine level beings do so with any reliability, and even they don’t make the venture lightly.

  “Celestial and fiendish beings can make the journey successfully, but generally have to be called by the essence of another to cross the void. Mortals, one you might think of as wizards, can likewise learn arts that channel and focus essence in order to cross the void. Typically, it requires many mortals working in tandem to combine their essence for such an effect to work,” she replied.

  “So there are wizards here? Wait… never mind that. That falls into the category of I’m curious but it isn’t vital to my existence. So is Verden more like heaven or hell?”

  “Neither. It is a mortal realm just as your Earth was. It is a planet that floats amongst the stars of this material plane. It is primarily inhabited by mortal tier beings and is ruled over by the eight gods who were birthed from this plane. Or it was ruled over by those eight gods,” Ild’engel said.

  “Again, that is probably all cool background lore and world building, but what I really need to know now is why I’m here and what I’m supposed to do. Can you tell me that? I’m already getting hungry,” Kyle asked in frustration.

  “Interesting. I wasn’t sure how subject you would be to the constraints of a mortal body, but it appears that you are more demi than full god now, even though you possess the mantle in full.”

  Kyle was starting to feel angry at the way she spoke in riddles, riddles that didn’t explain anything to him. “C’mon, that wasn’t our deal. You are supposed to be explaining stuff to me.”

  “Yes, that is true, and not because of any deal that we made. I was a sworn servant to Krig before he passed his mantle onto you. My loyalty goes with that mantle, at least for the time being,” Ild’engel said.

  “Who is this Krig that you keep talking about?”

  “Do you really not remember encountering him? It was right after that woman wounded you with the strange weapon,” she said.

  “You mean the colossal guy in the parking deck? I thought that was all part of a dream.” Kyle scoffed.

  “It was most assuredly not a dream. That was Krig, Verden’s God of War, or at least he was. But didn’t he tell you that?”

  Kyle snorted. “He may have mentioned something like that, but in my defense, at the time I thought he was a figment of my imagination brought on by the fact that I was dying.”

  “He was most definitely real, and he passed his mantle to you since he was dying,” Ild’engel said.

  “If he was a god, then how was he dying? And what does ‘passed on his mantle’ even mean?” Kyle asked before continuing, “I mean, I knew about stories where gods died, but then there was also the kind of god that my grandma took me to Sunday school to learn about. That wasn’t the kind of god who died—at least not without coming back to life.”

  A rich laughter filled his mind. He didn’t know how it was possible, but every sound that she made was just so damn sexy. “Nothing is forever, not even the gods, at least not in Verden.”

  “I sorta figured as much. So we are talking more like Greek gods than the Most High kinda God? And the mantle? Are you trying to tell me that I am the heir to the war god?” Kyle asked.

  Again with the laughter. He was starting to
get frustrated, but he didn’t know enough to get angry. So far, the voice inside his head was the only one he had been able to understand. The family whose house he was in had been speaking gibberish, as far as he was concerned. Of course, that in and of itself was concerning.

  “Not his heir, you are the reincarnation of the war god.”

  Chapter 4 - Not So Mundane

  “Reincarnation, like I am gonna become him again?” Kyle asked, suddenly terrified. He didn’t want to lose his identity, even if he was gonna become some kind of god.

  Ild’engel answered, “Not at all. Your personality remains the same, for better or for worse. The gods of Verden are different from mortals. They are a purer representation of the concept or aspect of reality that they represent. Mortals are comprised of a number of different essences, but are far more limited in quantity if not variety.”

  “And essence would be?” Kyle shrugged his shoulders to drive home the point of his confusion. Of course, he didn’t know if the voice inside his head could even see what he looked like.

  “Drawing from your memories, think of essence as mana. It is the building block of the universe and powers everything. It has been refined into eight different types for use in Verden, but there is also such a thing as raw essence. Fire would be an example of raw essence. The eight known types are judgment, death, earth, sea, sky, love, deceit, and war.

  These eight essences govern the reactions and relationships in Verden. And every mortal has some of each in them, even if they can’t access them all. Right now, you are a demi-god. Your physical form died in your world, but by Krig’s might, your soul was sent here and a new body, an amalgamation of your body and his, formed. More than that, your soul was imprinted with his mantle. So, eventually, with enough essence and hard work, you will be able to fully manifest it.”

  “Okay, so this isn’t my body any longer?”

  “Of course it is. There is no one else who could lay claim to it, but both Krig’s body and yours were injured. So, a new body was made as you materialized in Verden. I’m sure that you noticed that you are much larger, or were you nearly eight feet tall on Earth? My review of your memories suggested otherwise.”

  Now it was Kyle’s turn to laugh, except his laughter was out loud. “So that is why everything seems so small.”

  The laughter must have been louder than Kyle intended because the front door opened. The woman from last night poked her head inside. He felt bad, as she seemed afraid to come into her own house. It wasn’t that much of a home, a fifteen by twenty-foot single room dwelling with the kitchen in one corner and beds on the far side. Heck, his first studio apartment when he got called up to the bigs had been larger than this.

  Kyle looked at her, trying not to be intimidating. She immediately babbled at him; but once again, her words made no sense.

  Ild’engel came to his rescue, though, and translated for him. “She is asking if you need anything.”

  He took another look around the small home. He might be a fierce competitor, but he’d be damned if he was gonna take food from those who didn’t have any to spare. So, Kyle asked, “How do I ask her where I can find work? I better figure out how to make money before I starve to death.”

  Ild’engel’s voice sounded genuinely perplexed at that point. “Wait. You want to do menial tasks? Didn’t you understand anything that I said about being the reincarnated war god?”

  Noticing that Freja wasn’t leaving, but just kept staring at him, Kyle thought, “Look, we can talk about this in a minute, but just tell me how to ask her that.”

  After practicing a couple of times, Kyle managed, haltingly, to get the words of his question out. Unfortunately, Freja looked even more appalled than Ild’engel had sounded. She rushed into her house and prostrated herself at his feet. Her forehead was pressed to the dirt floor and she was visibly trembling.

  “She thinks you are unhappy with their hospitality and fears you will smite them all.”

  “Dammit, why would she think that?” Kyle demanded of the voice in his head. By this point, he was beyond trying to decide if the voice actually existed or not and was just plain angry. He knew that she had something to do with this.

  Probably whatever she had told him to say last night. He cursed himself. Kyle had known at the time it was a fool’s move to repeat words he didn’t understand, but he was completely dependent on her.

  “I had you recite a very traditional invocation from the gods which implied that you are a messenger of the gods, come with dire news. It is true enough, in a way.”

  “Fine, but we are going to have to talk about this. Now you need to help me clean this up. I need food and a place to stay. For that I need money and for that I need a job. I need to learn the language, too, unless you want to keep translating everything for me. I assume they need day laborers here too,” Kyle thought fiercely.

  “Krig would have never—”

  “I’m not Krig and we don’t have time for this shit. This woman is literally groveling at my feet,” he snapped, interrupting her.

  “That is what mortals do before their betters. Fine, I am bound to you for now. So, I will see how this plays out.”

  With that, the voice in his head coached him through a conversation. It was awkward and time consuming, but Kyle was pretty sure he was picking up some idea of a few basic words, and maybe even some of the ways they conjugated verbs. Other than baseball, linguistics had been one of his few interests; he might as well put it to use.

  The end result was that while Freja was still very nervous, she sent one of her daughters running to get Lucas. When he returned, the two talked very rapidly and Kyle’s virtually non-existent understanding of the language wasn’t enough to pick up a word or two that he heard.

  He was then forced to convince the man that he truly wanted to go and do manual labor, just as he had with the woman. It was amusing, in a frustrating sort of way, but Kyle figured he was either gonna laugh or pull his own hair out.

  Eventually, Lucas agreed to lead him to the quarry where he worked and ask if the foreman needed any more work.

  Kyle borrowed a few more words from Ild’engel and bid Freja adieu before he ducked and squeezed through the door frame. As they walked through the town, he began to get a sense of just how big he was. If he was anything like Krig had been, he must be nearly eight feet tall, but also wide and imposing. People scurried out of his way.

  “As they should. It is only right. Even those with very little ability can sense the amount of essence that is oozing out of you. That is one of the first things I am going to have to teach you, how to contain that, otherwise one of your siblings will eventually take note, even if you are but a shadow of your former self,” Ild’engel said inside his head.

  Kyle chose to ignore her. He was more one for taking in his setting and wanted to learn his own way around. He paid careful attention to the path they took and took special notice of the places where there were street vendors selling various goods.

  At least he was dressed in a thick tunic of some type, with trousers and sturdy, if plain, boots. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how it was that he appeared like this, instead of in a fancy suit of armor and sporting a bunch of weapons. He mused that this wasn’t a very good look for a war god, but then again, he didn’t actually know all that much about fighting. Sure, he had been in his share of scraps as a kid, but after finding baseball, he had been so single-minded in his focus that nothing else mattered.

  When they reached the edge of the city, he saw two interesting areas outside the walls. No one stopped them, as they walked through the open gates to leave the city. Kyle noted, off to his right, what appeared like nothing so much as the Coliseum in Rome on top of a large, flat topped hill. It had the oval shape of a modern football stadium but appeared to be made of gleaming, white stone.

  He didn’t get much time to look at it though, as Lucas led them down a winding path to the northern side of the city. It was clearly a r
ock quarry, complete with huge pits, hundreds of men covered in a fine white powder from stone they were cutting out, rickety stairs, and all sorts of animal-run systems that were pulling, lifting, and moving the stone. It looked like most of the animals were some type of oxen.

  Once they reached the quarry, Lucas once again confirmed with Kyle that this was what he wanted. Then asked him to be quiet while he spoke to the foreman. The story they had worked out was one that implied Kyle was Lucas’ cousin from out of town and here looking for work for a few weeks. At least that was what Ild’engel had translated for him.

  The foreman spoke to Lucas, clearly rebuking him for leaving the jobsite during the day, but after hearing this story he turned an appraising eye on Kyle. His size alone must have impressed the man, because he was immediately hired to start work. The voice in his head assured him it had far more to do with the essence leaking off of him, whatever that was, than with mere size.

  He continued to follow Lucas, until they arrived at a spot where they were to break off pieces of limestone that were then carried away by other men with handcarts. Altogether, the system seemed very efficient. For his part, Kyle was actually ready to get his hands dirty and do some mindless work.

  It was like batting practice. By this point in his career, or the career he’d had before ending up here, he didn’t need to think about it. Swinging a bat just came instinctively to him, and it was a time that his mind was free to ponder anything else. Usually, that included going through likely pitching matchups for the next game, but the point was that breaking rock seemed appealing to him.

  It would allow him the chance to get more answers from Ild’engel.

  When they handed him a pickaxe, he almost laughed. It looked more like a child’s toy than a tool in his hands. Remembering his inadvertent leaps and how even walking felt funny, he knew that if he swung this, he would end up breaking it. That prompted him to start looking around. Nothing leapt out at him as a suitable tool.

 

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