The silent, dead landscape before him refused to match up with his memories of Kerberos. The tribe's leader was strong, intelligent, caring, and loyal. He took Athan into his arms when he felt most alone, and taught him and nurtured him. Loved him. They talked of many things, sparred and practised together, and made love more times than Athan could count. He would only be doing these things for Sithares, to whom he was utterly devoted. He wasn't evil. He couldn't be.
... Could he?
He didn't come back for you after Mara.
No, but he knew I was killed.
Did he?
Athan couldn't be certain of anything; his mind was a roiling ocean of chaos. Kerberos wasn't evil. Kerberos set out to murder thousands of innocent people. Kerberos loved him. Kerberos left him behind.
He decided to put his hope in the man who'd been there for him all these years, the man who'd taught him so much and loved him so fiercely. Kerberos loved him; he knew it.
Aella
When he saw Kerberos' army ahead of them, Athan seemed to withdraw. He was usually quiet, but Aella could still tell when he was upset.
"Athan, what's the matter?" She asked. He glanced at her. He looked desperate, and he was fighting back tears.
"I still love him. Even after all he's done, I love him. I don't know if I can fight this battle."
Her heart sank. She put her hand on his arm as they walked. "Athan, he's slaughtering thousands of innocent people. If he were waging war against the other desert tribes or the western cities it would be different. But he's destroying farms and murdering people who aren't warriors."
"I know!" Athan yelled suddenly. "Do you think I don't know what he is? I spent every night with him before – before Mara. But you don't know him the way I do. He's not evil. Anything he does is done for our tribe and for Sithares."
Aella shook her head; she didn't know what to say. Athan was in denial.
"I won't make you fight him, Athan," she said, "but please understand that he needs to be stopped."
He appeared to think about what she said, and they walked in silence for a while. Finally, he spoke again.
"Aella, what he was saying about Sithares protecting us... I think there's more to it than that."
She waited for him to continue. He sighed, then went on:
"When we were on Sitharkos, I saw him summon something. I didn't know what it was at first, but all I can think of is that Sithares itself actually spoke directly with Kerberos. He claims to have spoken directly to it before; maybe that's how it happens. When I died... What I experienced was terrifying. It broke me. I refuse to believe that is the afterlife for a devout Thearan."
"What are you saying, Athan?"
"I don't believe Sithares decided to protect us without anything in return. I think Kerberos gave Sithares our souls in exchange for immortality. To fuel its magic. I believe he gave our souls away without us even knowing about it."
Aella was speechless. If Athan suspected that, why was he still refusing to admit Kerberos was evil?
"But you still don't think we should fight him?"
"I know he should be stopped, Aella. After what I went through when I died, I know that what he did was evil... But I can't believe that he is evil. And I know you will fight him, and I understand that; I'm just not sure I can fight him too."
She nodded slowly, but her heart sunk further.
"We have a connection, Aella. I know he wouldn't fight me either, even if I showed up to challenge him."
Aella wasn't so certain of that, but she thought it would be pointless to argue further. Athanasius was in love with the man they had to kill.
They were catching up. Gradually, Kerberos' army became closer and closer. They had so far not been spotted. Aella ordered her tribe to slow down a little; if they got too close, they would be seen. Their only chance was to wait until the battle started in Omatus, and then enter the city and attack from behind. The city itself was getting closer too; by Aella's reckoning they would be there within a day.
They marched as quietly as they could, keeping their profile low at Aella's instruction. Athan still walked next to her, and for that she was grateful; but how much longer would he be by her side? And what would he do once they reached Omatus? She had no idea, and was deeply troubled by that.
The rest of the journey went fairly quickly and, other than a few tense moments where Aella feared they were spotted, uneventfully. She watched Kerberos' army storm the gates and disappear into the city. She knew her warriors were eager to follow and start the attack, but she urged them to wait.
"He is killing them right now!" One warrior said.
"We need to stop him!"
"We have to attack!"
Aella gestured for silence, and the warriors stopped shouting out. She turned to them.
"I want to attack too, but we need to make sure they're properly distracted by the battle, and hopefully suffer some losses of their own. It's the only way we can win this fight. Kerberos needs to be stopped, but in an even fight he is too strong. We need every advantage we can get." She looked around at all of them.
"Kerberos is evil. He was right when he said we're protected by Sithares, but he didn't tell us the cost of that protection. He gave our souls to Sithares in return for immortality. But when we die, it is pure suffering, enough to drive a person mad. We return from death as an empty shell, with no memory and no purpose. Kerberos did this to all of us. He didn't ask our permission, nor did he think about our suffering. He traded our souls, and he's using them to take Omatus for himself. If we're going to stop him, to bring him to justice, we must wait just a little longer. But I promise you, we will bring him to justice for what he's done to all of us."
Athan was looking at her. His eyes were wide and his lips were pressed into a tight line. She wasn't sure what the look meant, but she couldn't take back what was said. The tribe needed to know what Kerberos was. They needed to know the full extent of his evil. It wasn't just some farms burnt to ashes and some innocents killed; it was the very souls of the tribe who followed him, who called him their leader.
The rest of the tribe reacted the way she expected. They were furious, ready to attack. Some of them looked at Athan with a new sympathy that touched her. She started the march towards Omatus, slowly at first. When they were close enough to hear the battle raging within the city's walls, she drew her swords and broke into a run. Her tribe followed. The gates were still open; no guards were left alive to close them behind Kerberos' army. They ran into the city unimpeded, and saw the death Kerberos had left in his wake.
Omasi stone was naturally black. It made the scorch marks, ashes and blood far less visible. But the bodies were everywhere; the stone couldn't hide them. Aella saw several Thearans laying dead on the city's stone floor. She felt her hopes rising. She glanced at the buildings as they moved. Anything that could be destroyed by fire was reduced to ash. The battle still sounded close. They ran on.
A few turns down wide stone streets later, the flank of Kerberos' army came into view. They ran without war cries, with as little sound as possible, as Aella instructed them to. They were only a dozen or so steps from the enemy warriors when they were heard. Aella unleashed a powerful spear of fire she'd been building during the run. It impaled six warriors and exploded in the midst of the crowd, sending a shock through dozens of warriors and killing at least a half dozen more.
The tribes clashed a bare second after Aella's spear, and for the first few seconds her tribe was bringing destruction and chaos down on the enemy. Then they recovered from the initial surprise. Aella wanted so badly to wreath herself in flame and sweep through the tribe's defences. She could see Kerberos on the far side of his army, pushing towards the royal palace with lethal determination. He was so tall he stood head and shoulders above most of his warriors. But she knew it would do no good. Even if she reached him in time, she would run out of magic shortly after and her attack would be for nothing. She needed to fight through for as long as possible w
ithout using too much of her magic.
As Aella and her tribe fought, Kerberos' was backing away swiftly. They almost had to run to keep up; they were making fast progress to the royal palace. Aella didn't care about the royalty of Omatus in the slightest, but if Kerberos made it to the palace he would be in a much more defensible position. She had to kill him before he got there.
"Push!" She screamed, "Kill them! We must reach Kerberos!"
She was staring at Kerberos as she screamed the orders, and at the sound of his name he stared directly into her eyes. He smiled and gestured to the side. Heart beating wildly, her eyes followed his gesture. She saw two of Kerberos' commanders restraining Erasmus, dragging him down a side street. She only caught a glimpse before they disappeared behind cold black stone.
Burning white rage wiped her mind clean. She stopped seeing and hearing and feeling. The world became a stark white field of pure fury, and running through it before her were the two warriors dragging her love away. There was nothing between her and them, just that blank white field, so she stepped to where they were. She found she only needed a single step. She was right behind them in an instant, ready to kill anything in her path, when suddenly a cold jagged pain lanced her stomach and left bicep.
She screamed, suddenly sure this was merely a nightmare; none of what was happening made sense. The white field disappeared, and Aella collapsed to the stone floor. She looked at her stomach and arm, and saw the deep cuts there, bleeding freely. She closed her eyes and recited the healing prayer, focusing her mind on the image of fire as she was taught. The cuts didn't heal. She opened her eyes again. She was in a narrow alley, but one of the walls was somehow obliterated by some powerful explosion. The sounds of battle were now distant and the street she just came from was deserted. She stood, shaking, and suddenly remembered what she was doing. Where was Erasmus?
Mind still curiously blank, she ran down the alley and cast her eyes wildly around the opposite street. She saw stairs leading down to a building which looked like a fortress, and without thinking she ran towards it. At the bottom of the stairs, a low corridor ran straight for what looked like miles, heading in the direction of the royal palace.
She saw them. Three distant blurs, moving constantly. She sprinted as hard as she could. The blurs became people, and the people became familiar faces, and before long she was close enough to stop them. But they turned towards her and shouted, and suddenly the corridor was filling with warriors; dozens of them between her and Erasmus, and dozens more behind her, blocking her escape. She clenched her fists desperately, and realised for the first time that she didn't have her swords.
Dakesh
He stood in front of the elders, the Duulshen, as they stared down at him in silence. Twenty raised seats, each containing an ancient Shenza warrior, formed a semicircle around the lowered platform in the centre of the room. The chamber of the Duulshen was built within the trunk of an enormous, ancient tree. The only light came from naturally phosphorescent mushrooms which grew along the walls and roof, giving off a faint blue glow. There was a chamber like this in each of the five hubs that made up the Kashainuukza. The last time he stood in the chamber, he was refused the right to forge his Kaizuun.
Now, he was accused of treason, and breaking the three tenets and his oath as a Daishen. The Duulshen sat in the dim glow of the chamber, completely silent. But the judgement in their eyes spoke volumes, and Dakesh didn't need them to speak to understand he was doomed. He stood in the centre of the platform, Elana's sword and belt at his feet before them. Kailen's blade was next to Elana's; they had taken it from him the moment he entered Shanaken.
No others were allowed into the chamber. Dakesh was completely alone to face the wrath of the Duulshen. He was glad; the Shenza booed and hissed and jeered as he was led here. He couldn't stand their hatred on top of his own. As they stared, he tried to stare back. He needed at least to be brave in his last few days. To take responsibility. But his gaze dropped, falling to the swords of his two best friends.
After an eternity in silent, twilit judgement, one of the Duulshen finally spoke.
"Dakesh Zakil. You stole the blade of a Kaizeluun. You fled our great forests with it. You joined with the forces of destruction against whom Amalus is sworn to eternal battle. These are some of the greatest crimes a warrior of the forests can commit."
The elder fell again into silence. Dakesh's eyes were still lowered. Tears ran silently down his cheeks. He could only think of Elana and Kailen. He remembered all the times he wanted Kailen to fail so he could succeed instead. The jealousy he felt when Kailen became Kaizeluun. And his excitement when Kailen was torn apart by cannon fire and his Kaizuun lay at Dakesh's feet. The last memory pierced his heart more painfully than a Kaizuun ever could. How much of what he'd done was Sithares working through him? Was he truly a monster; a traitor? He wanted so desperately to believe he was still innocent. Just the tool of an all-powerful God; blameless and helpless to resist. But he knew better.
He remembered Elana too. The way she moved when fighting or walking, her grace never ending. Her wisdom and her beauty. Her strength and her skill. She was the greatest of the Shenza; far greater than these ancient, bitter fools. He wished he could speak with her again, if only to apologise for all the evil he'd done. He would much prefer to face her again in battle rather than endure the judgemental silence of the Duulshen.
"You are exiled, Dakesh. You are Dulzuud. But there are punishments you must endure before your exile."
Dulzuud. Eternal outsider. Knowing it would be so didn't stop the pain of hearing the word. And he would suffer worse pain before being exiled. He was beyond fighting his fate; he knew he deserved everything the Duulshen did to him. He waited for the elders to inflict on him whatever they deemed fitting. It could be no worse than the self-hatred boiling in his veins, searing his heart and tearing into his mind.
"You do not know the power of the Kaizel, Outsider. You will be one of the only beings not of the Duulshen to witness it. For that you should be grateful. Still, it will serve as punishment for your crimes."
As the last word was spoken, the runes on Elana's Kaizuun glowed white and the sword lifted from the ground. Still attached to her belt, it settled in mid-air point down. The belt floated at waist height. Then, slowly, Elana appeared inside it. She was glowing with the same dim light as the mushrooms lining the chamber. Her eyes, such a vibrant, deep purple in life, were now the same faint blue as the rest of her. She looked like an echo; empty and faded.
Dakesh stepped towards her. He couldn't help it. He needed her to understand how sorry he was. She saw him. Her face remained blank. He paused, staring into her eyes. She recognised him, he could see it. But she displayed absolutely no emotion. He stepped back to the centre of the platform again.
"Elana..."
Her dim glow brightened for a fraction of a second. But she remained impassive, staring at him as though he were a mountain in the distance.
"... I'm so sorry," he said.
She stared for a moment longer, and finally stirred. "It's peaceful here, Dakesh," she said quietly. Her voice reached him as though from a great distance. "There is no emotion. I'm free now. Dulkuud is beautiful, you would love it here. But you will never see it."
Dulkuud. The Eternal Mountain. So it was real. He wondered at the scope of the realisation; He knew Sithares was real, of course, but if one God was real, how could a God from a completely different religion exist also? Were there even more Gods? More than one afterlife? The questions were chased by a disquieting thought: he would never know. Then the last thing Elana said caught up with him: you will never see it.
Was there an afterlife for him, if not the resting place of the Shenza? She was still staring at him, expressionless. He didn't remember ever being as terrified as he felt in that moment, facing his death without knowing what it would look like. He wasn't ready at all. Elana nodded as though she could hear his thoughts.
"Your time is almost up, outsider," she
said. Every time he heard that word, his heart broke again. He would be remembered by the Shenza this way forever; the outsider with the stolen sword. Betrayer of Shanaken and servant of Sithares. He could only imagine what Zanela must think of him. His little sister had adored him, before all of this. He realised he never said goodbye to her.
"Once I leave this room I will never return to the realm of the living. Even the Duulshen have limits when it comes to life and death. I don't know what fate awaits you, outsider. But if your love for me was real, knowing that you will never see me again and that I died in fear and hatred of you... that should be punishment enough. May you be a lesson to all Shenza from now on; the three tenets and the oath are binding. Eternal."
She unclipped her belt and lay it at his feet. She faded away as soon as the belt left her hands. Dakesh wept. He no longer cared about dying with his head held high. He didn't deserve to die proud. He fell to his knees. His breath came in gasps, and he sobbed into his hands as the Duulshen silently stared.
Two pairs of rough hands seized him without warning and dragged him to his feet. It was happening. He didn't struggle. They led him down a circular tunnel, deeper into the earth. When they reached a chamber which closely resembled the one they'd just left, they pushed him back onto his knees. They held him there as footsteps grew louder in the darkness. The Duulshen walked into the chamber and surrounded him, standing this time.
The Duulshen chanted, low and deep. They raised their arms, moving into an odd version of the Zuunshai. They moved in perfect unison, their motions and voices merging into one. The cold metal floor shifted under his knees. Twisting, pointed branches emerged from the smooth surface around him, forming a cage. There was just enough space for him to stand, though he remained on his knees. The chanting stopped, and one of the Duulshen placed Kailen and Elana's sword inside the cage at his knees.
Gods and Heroes- Rise of Fire Page 26