by M. E. Thorne
“We?” Despite my earlier enthusiasm, I suddenly realized how little I knew about Vexile or the kingdom she wanted me to inherit.
She nodded. “I am the High Priestess of Revina, Goddess of Darkness. I lead a small order of Her acolytes here. We discovered the artifact that we used to bring you here.”
Goddess of Darkness? Magic? I took a deep breath, I have to learn a lot, and fast.
She gestured towards the door, “Please, come with me, everyone is so eager to meet you!”
I pressed a palm against the door, closing it shut. Doing so brought me face to face with the priestess. She looked flustered at our proximity.
“Vexile, before I meet anyone else, I need you to tell me about this world and the situation I find myself in.” I regarded her coolly, though I felt anxiety clawing at my chest. “I know nothing of this place, or our people, our customs and ways. If I am to be this Dark Lord, I need to learn quickly, lest I make some critical misstep and doom this effort.”
My hand went to the copy of The Prince in my jacket pocket. He advised new rulers to quickly learn and adopt the customs and practices of the people they ruled. That seems like a great place to start.
“Of course,” she nodded, looking worried.
I drew her over to a small sitting area by the side of the room. My chair creaked precipitously under me, but it still comfortably held my weight.
“Where can I start?” she asked, taking the seat across for me, her fingers picking nervously at the bottom of her robe.
“Tell me about this world, its history,” I spoke with a gentle voice, trying to put her at ease. “If I am to be a good king, I at least need to understand what happened here, what caused my ancestors to flee to a different world.”
Vexile took a deep, wheezy breath, “Where can I even begin? This world is very different from the one you came from. From what I saw, Earth doesn’t contain magic or gods?”
I nodded, “If there are gods, they don’t interfere with the day-to-day affairs of humanity, and there is certainly no such thing as magic. Are you telling me that things are different here?”
“Yes, this world, Turmont, has given birth to a multitude of different pantheons and gods, all given life by the worship and belief of their followers. The gods then bestow magic and power to their most devoted followers, making them kings, queens, emperors, and Dark Lords.”
“So rule through divine mandate?” I surmised.
She nodded. “The various nations of Turmont have waged war for most of known history, goaded by their gods to gain more land, more followers. Entire pantheons have been born and then died as nations rose and then fell.”
This doesn’t sound much different than early human history, I thought, listening to her. Religion has been a powerful motivation for conquest since man first started believing in higher powers.
“Go on,” I prompted her.
“Several centuries ago, four new deities arose -- Life, Death, Light, and Darkness. Most of the pantheons that came before were based around a plethora of gods and concepts, some stronger, some weaker than the others. This new pantheon though, the Primevals, represented the fundamental laws of human existence, putting them far above the small, petty gods of old.“
“They just spontaneously appeared?” I pressed her.
“Records of their genesis are --” she licked her lips nervously, “-- spotty at best. They were born during a time of great disaster. The old gods and their wars had devastated the world, bringing everything to ruin. The people were looking for something more trustworthy, less capricious than their pantheons could offer. The Primevals were born from this need, or so I think.”
“So the Primevals overturned the old order?” I surmised.
Vexile nodded. “Most of the old gods died during that time, which is known as the Godsfall. Those that survived went into seclusion, their nations reduced to small enclaves that kept their worship alive.”
“From the ashes eventually rose three great kingdoms, each one worshiping the Primevals.” Vexile pointed towards a nearby tapestry. “The Luminark Empire was for Alruna, Goddess of Light. Duskhaven was for Revina, Goddess of Darkness, and Marshul was founded for the twin gods of Life and Death, which stood between them.”
The tapestry was a map, its details badly faded with age. Getting up, I peered at it more closely. It displayed Turmont as a pair of continents, ranging northeast to southwest, joined in the middle by a narrow land bridge, lending it the shape of a crooked hourglass. The Luminark Empire dominated the south, while Marshul held the middle, and Duskhaven occupied the northern continent on the map.
“How old is this map?” I asked.
The priestess frowned. “Centuries. Now, Marshul is gone, and Duskhaven is a shadow of its former self. The Luminark Empire has risen as the dominant power in the world, crushing all opposition. We few refugees now take shelter in Gloomglow, one of the Dark Lords’ former fortresses.”
I glanced at her, “And you’re hoping I can somehow bring things back into balance, to restore that what once was?”
She gave a small smile, “Yes, Dark Lord.”
I decided to let the rest of the history lesson go for another day. My head was already stuffed with too many facts, all of them too impossible in the life I had left behind. Gods and magic? How could my family have come from a world like this?
Vexile agreed to my request to keep the meeting with her acolytes short. She would claim I was exhausted from the magic that had brought me there, and that I needed time to recover. Hopefully, that would buy me enough time to establish a foundation of knowledge, so I could begin becoming a ruler for these people.
Gloomglow’s castle was broken and dilapidated. Only a few of the chambers and halls were in use; most of the rooms were abandoned and left to molder, full of dust and broken masonry.
“When war came to Duskhaven, Gloomglow was one of the first places to fall,” Vexile explained, as we crossed a damaged passage. The ceiling had long ago burned away, leaving a clear view of an alien sky full of unknown stars. “The town was burned and the fortress overrun by Luminark archangels.”
“archangels?” I had yet to process that gods were real, let alone angels.
“That’s what Luminark calls their ascendants,” she explained. “The Primevals can grant their power to their mortal servants, allowing them to ascend their mundane forms, becoming divine avatars. Those blessed by the Goddess of Light become heavenly angels, her agents of divine purification.”
Vexile had a disdainful look that clearly indicated what she thought about her goddess’s divine rival and her servants.
I paused, thinking. “Does that mean the Goddess of Darkness can do the same thing? Can she grant her powers to her followers as well?”
Vexile cast her eyes down. “That has not happened in ages, not since the fall of the Dark Lords. There have been no ascendents of Revina since Duskhaven’s destruction.”
We passed several windows and openings as we walked. Glancing outside, I saw a land of desolation and ruin. Most of the castle’s outbuildings had been destroyed, and its walls had been breached and toppled in dozens of places. Even though it was night, only a few lights and wane fires glowed in the shadows, and I could see the occasional figure moving in the darkness.
I paused to look at a group of huddled figures clustered around a small campfire. “Vexile, outside yourself and your acolytes, how many people are here?”
“Less than a hundred,” she answered. “Refugees, like myself. We managed to flee the Empire and made our way back to our ancestral home, only to find it a dusty wasteland, bereft of Revina’s blessing. We do what we can, but there is not enough food or water for us to survive much longer.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, thinking. “So that’s why you summoned me?”
She nodded. “The Dark Lords are the sole conduits for Revina’s blessing. If you accept the crown, she can act through you, restoring vitality and life to the land.”
“A
nd hopefully saving these people’s lives,” I murmured to myself.
I had yet to meet any of my future citizens, but already my heart went out to them. This only reaffirmed my decision to come to Turnmont and to do what I could to help those people.
Entering Gloomglow’s main hall, I saw a group of robed figures huddling by the base of the grand staircase. Oily torches threw uneven light across their features, but I saw they were similar in appearance to Vexile; most had sunken faces, bird-thin limbs, and the general appearance of malnutrition and hardship.
We paused at the top of the stairs. I heard a wave of whispers crashing up from below. Most of the acolytes looked up at me in raw admiration and hope, clearly desiring me to be the promised ruler and savior. Others, though, glared at me in suspicion, critically judging me and somehow finding me wanting.
I glanced at Vexile, and she looked nervous and unsure. Something was wrong, but I had no clear idea of what it was.
Clearing my throat, I decided to address the audience and hopefully assuage some of their fears.
“My name is Robert Grailmont,” I announced, my voice ringing off the stone walls. “Though I have only just arrived in this world, I have seen your plight, and it has truly moved my heart. I will do everything in my power to help you, and to be a worthy Dark Lord.”
To my chagrin, those who had viewed me suspiciously just stared at me with open disdain. Several of the acolytes turned and left the hall.
Thankfully, a few of the more devout went to their knees and began offering praise and supplication to The Goddess of Darkness, thanking her for bringing them such a fine individual for their Dark Lord. I made sure to walk down the stairs and to thank them for their gratitude, once again promising them that I would do everything I could to be worthy of such admiration.
Feeling exhausted, I quickly begged off, explaining that I needed time to recover and acclimate to my new home. The acolytes were very understanding, though they asked that I come and visit the temple of Revina when I was ready so that I could offer thanks and homage to the goddess. I readily agreed.
I might not believe in her, but these people clearly do. I realized, If the Goddess of Darkness’s power brought me here, and all these people are devoted followers, then I should endeavor to appear the same.
“Vexile,” I called when I approached the top of the stairs, “can you guide me back to my chambers?”
She bowed, “Certainly, Dark Lord.”
As we walked, I lightly grasped her arm. For a second I was shocked at how thin it was. I could easily wrap just two fingers around her bicep, but I shook off my shock.
“One minute,” I said. “Can you tell me what was going on there? It was clear that not all of your acolytes were as on board with this plan as you are.” I pressed my lips together. “Not everyone believes in me.”
She carefully extracted herself from my grip, keeping her head bowed. “We have led harsh lives, Dark Lord. All of us fled the Luminark Empire, where we were treated as slaves, as beings that did not even deserve human decency.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because we are the descendants of this land,” she shrugged helplessly. “The Empire believes that only those born under the grace of the Goddess of Light deserve to be treated as humans. Everyone else is just disposable scum.” She looked up at me, tears welling in her eyes. “During our lives, many came to us offering up false hope, saying that they would stand up for us, or lead us to freedom. But never have these so-called saviors done anything but led us deeper into despair, towards our doom. The people have become tired of false heroes, those who claim that they improve their lot, but then will turn and flee at the first sign of adversity.”
Not unlike the common voter, a jaded part of my mind reflected. Desperate people will cling to anyone who claims they are better than those who came before, who offers salvation for the seemingly cheap cost of belief and trust.
Instead, I pushed those thoughts down and said, “So they want a clear sign of my intentions, and they want results.”
“Yes,” she wiped her eyes, “and I know you can do it! Once you are ready, you will be crowned and become a splendid Dark Lord, I know it!”
Instead of feeling burdened by her expectations, I felt empowered. I will help these people and prove myself worthy of their faith.
Chapter 4
I decided to divide my days between morning history and culture lessons with Vexile, and spending the afternoons touring Gloomglow and getting to know my future citizens. From what I understood, I would not be officially recognized as the Dark Lord till I accepted the crown during a religious ceremony, which could only be held during a night with no moon. Since Turmont had three moons, I would need to wait another week for the celestial event.
I was determined to learn as much as possible in the time I had.
“Turmont was in turmoil when the Primevals came into being,” Vexile supplied during our first lesson.
She looked exhausted, with deep bags under her eyes and a wet, wracking cough that kept creeping in when she talked for too long. Despite this, she approached our lessons with a level of enthusiasm I found admirable.
She had brought several books with her, spreading them out over the tabletop. The way she carefully treated them, I could tell they were her pride and joy.
“Turmont has always been a world defined by war. Since time immemorial, great nations would rise under the leadership of a new god or pantheon, conqueror or destroy their neighbors, and then eventually fall themselves,” she lectured. “I doubt anyone truly knows how many nations and gods have been born and died over the countless millennia, but it is a story I’ve read about time and time again.”
She pointed to one particularly old tome. “This book is a record of the ancient Lotus Vale Empire, which had reigned over the southern continent for nearly four hundred years. They saw themselves as the exception, the eternal empire. But as their rulers and gods became more greedy and capricious, the citizens had begun to pray for relief, bringing a rebel pantheon into existence. With their birth, the empire shattered into a thousand warning states, each clawing at the other’s throat.”
I carefully paged through the book, marveling at its age. “I didn’t know you were a historian, Vexile.”
She smiled sadly. “Part of being a priestess of Revina is remembering the past. She is a firm believer in learning from one’s mistakes. Once, Duskhaven held dozens of libraries, all dedicated to various eras in Turmont’s history.” She stifled a cough, a bitter expression creeping across her face. “They were the first things the Luminark purged during their conquest; they considered the knowledge they contained as heretical. These books represent the few that escaped, and I’ve spent years collecting them, learning everything I can about the past.”
“Regardless, I am getting ahead of myself,” she pointed to another tome. “This book is one of the few we have that details Turmont seven hundred years ago, just before the Primevals’ birth. It describes a world locked in constant, bloody warfare, nations having given way to groups, clans, and tribes, all fighting to satiate their greedy gods. The people prayed for relief, for stability and peace.”
The tome’s margins were full of notes, references, and annotations, all written in a steady hand. I noticed they matched the writing in Vexile’s notebook, a handbound volume of paper that she took almost everywhere with her.
I picked up and peered through the book, “And what did the Primevals do, once they had awoken?”
“They killed the other gods,” she stated flatly.
I put the tome back down. “It’s that easy to kill a god?”
“No,” she shook her head, “You must either kill all who believe in them or you have to fundamentally break the ideal that empowers the god and sever the belief from the being, breaking the chain of faith. That attests to the power of the Primevals, that they were able to take that second, more difficult path, and succeed.”
“Why were they so much more powerful
than the gods that came before?”
“They represent concepts that every human believes in, regardless of their religion,” Vexile explained. “Light, Dark, Life, and Death are all constants we must accept, and thus our belief in them empowers the Primevals beyond any divinity that had come before.”
“They slew the greedy gods during a cataclysmic era known as the Godsfall,” she continued. “Afterwards, the people united in their worship of their saviors. The Primevals only spared the gods that bowed their heads and surrendered their lands, retaining only their most fervent of worshippers to keep themselves alive.”
That was surprising. “Any examples?”
“It is said that Revina petitioned her siblings to spare Yevitt, the old Caprician goddess of justice,” Vexile looked through her notebook, searching for more information. “The Capricians had been one of the peaceful nations under the old gods, believing that warfare brought about by greed was wrong. Yevitt had sat out the various wars before the Godsfall, and even provided a safe haven for those fleeing the conflicts. The Primevals agreed to spare her, and she was granted a small conclave on the southern continent, by the western sea.”
I looked at the hanging map but only saw the three great nations. “What happened to her and her followers?”
“Alruna and her church destroyed the enclave and killed Yevitt’s followers centuries ago,” Vexile replied. “The archangels tore down her temples and scourged her worshipers. Without the followers to sustain her, Yevitt must have perished as well.”
She pointed towards the map. “After Godsfall, the Primevals agreed to share the land equally amongst themselves. They founded a unified church, dedicated to all four gods in their pantheon. They planned to create a united world under their benevolent rule.”
I looked at the stratified map, “I’m predicting that idea didn’t last for long.”
“Less than a hundred years, “Vexile confirmed. “Alruna was already displaying her avarice, even soon after peace was attained,” her voice was full of venom. “She is the Goddess of Light and Purity. Her followers have an unshakable conviction that all must be pure and united, that they cannot allow evil to fester in the world.”