Seelios’s curiosity quickly turned to fear, and he began to back away. “Garrick, he’s looking—.”
The towering god’s stone skin began to shimmer and gleam like the surface of a sparkling ore. Large cracks spread across his chest, traveling down his arms and legs, and let out an eerie green light. The sound of the rock ripping apart was thunderous and deafening.
The ring of birds around the god’s head scattered as they flew fast and far away. The woodland animals scrambled in a similar chaotic motion, sprinting and hopping away to the nearest tree line. Men tried to jump onto horses as they raced through the ruined town, but none succeeded in capturing a steed. Seelios caught a flash of Acorn’s fur before she disappeared into the woods by the tavern.
The god lifted its head, raising both arms as its colossal form exploded, launching massive chunks of rock and debris in all directions. Seelios covered his ears, but it did little to drown out the cacophony. Boulders rained down like meteors, smashing village shops and homes like they were made of twigs and paper. Among impacts of falling stone, Seelios heard the screams of the villagers.
A large boulder nearly struck the forge and landed mere steps away from where Seelios stood. The shock made his knees buckle, and he tumbled to the ground as clumps of dirt and grass showered down. The boulder slid, gouging the earth before it rolled into the wheat field.
A small mountain of rubble stood next to the lake shore where the stone god once stood. When the dust settled, a man in brilliant shining armor was standing at its peak, wielding a large axe adorned with glowing runes along its surface resembling those of Seelios’s ring. The metal of the axe gleamed and swirled with orichalcum luster.
The armored man’s face resembled the colossal stone form except, instead of a beard of green moss, his hair was dark as midnight. The man’s powerful looking eyes flashed with green light. He turned to the half-face man who stood patiently among the rubble, still pointing at Seelios. The armored man turned his gaze and met Seelios’s eyes.
The God of Earth raised his axe into the air, and its runes blazed with intensity. Bright lines of green light spread out across the surfaces of the boulders scattered through the village. They raced and circled, inscribing more runes like a dozen invisible hands. The boulder in the wheat field stirred and rocked as arms and legs unfolded. It stood, a smaller version of the colossal stone god from earlier, and reared a small and lumpy head toward Seelios, staring with haunting green eyes of light.
Seelios watched in awe as the animated boulder stomped out of the field. He felt the tug of Garrick’s hand.
“Stop your gawking!” Garrick yelled.
They turned and ran down river toward the forest. They took but ten steps when the earth exploded before them, raising a curtain of blinding dust and raining down dirt from overhead. Seelios raised his hands as he was pelted with pebbles and clumps of mud. When the dust cleared he saw a wide wall of jagged stone that stretched to either side, blocking their retreat. The river crashed into the stone wall and began to swell over its banks.
“Gods be damned,” Garrick said.
The God of Earth’s stone creature came thundering behind them and snatched up Seelios with such ferocity that it forced the air from his lungs. Its grip was so tight that Seelios thought his ribs might snap like dry twigs.
Garrick kicked the creature in the leg, but it seemed to have no effect. He winced in pain as he limped backward. The creature looked down and pulled its arm back, raising its free hand. Garrick tried to scramble out of range, but the arm came down in a blur and giant stone finger tips made contact with his face. He spun through the air like a pinwheel before landing on the ground and tumbling into the wheat field.
Seelios tried to call out to his friend, but his lungs were squeezed so tight he couldn’t even get out a whisper. The stone creature stomped toward the God of Earth, brandishing its prize in the air. Seelios looked back and saw Garrick lying on the ground, unmoving. In the distance the rock wall crumbled, sending up sprays of water as it fell back into the river. The water surged over the fallen barricade and continued down its age old path.
Throughout the village, similar stone creatures with glowing runes climbed out of the craters and ruined houses. They varied in size, but some were so massive they towered over standing shops.
Seelios hit the ground in a painful drop, coughing and gasping for air in front of the God of Earth.
“This is the one you saw?” the god asked the half-face man.
He nodded with one expressionless eye fixed on Seelios.
“Your work here is done.” The god reached out and touched the man on the cheek with a finger. Cracks spread over his face and down his neck like mud baking under the sun. The cloak dropped as he crumbled to the ground in a pile of dried up clay.
“Your ring,” the God of Earth said. “Where did you get it?”
Before Seelios could reply, a blinding flash came from the market square.
The God of Earth turned and his face met with a beam of light that exploded on impact, radiating an intense heat and turning Seelios’s vision white and spotty. The sound of several galloping horses came, and a strong hand grabbed Seelios, hoisting him up onto a saddle.
“F—father?” Seelios asked, vision still blurry from the flash.
“Afraid not, boy,” a familiar man said.
“We’ll keep the god distracted,” another voice said. “Escape with him while you still can.”
“Be wary of his axe. Nothing can withstand its edge,” the familiar man said.
The horse skid to a sudden stop, lurching Seelios forward, nearly out of the saddle.
“Whoa, there! Onward, you confounded—”
The horse started bucking wildly, whinnying at ear-piercing volumes. Seelios tried to hold onto the saddle with what little strength his grip could muster, but it didn’t take long before Seelios was tossed high into the air. He landed hard on the ground to the sound of something like a thick tree snapping in half. Excruciating pain radiated up his leg and throughout his whole body.
Shouts of surprise came from men in armored plate falling to the ground with a metallic rattle.
“Curses, how could I forget? Get up, boy!” the familiar man said.
“My leg,” Seelios said through gritted teeth. “I think it’s broken.”
His right leg ached with a feeling so intense that it made him nauseous.
“That boat will have to do then.”
Two arms scooped Seelios up, causing him to cry out when his leg dangled in the air. Even the pull of gravity on his shattered bone was enough to send electric jolts of agony through his body. The dizzying pain, combined with his blurred vision, made it hard for him to orient himself, feeling as if the world was spinning around him. The last thing he heard before his vision tunneled to black was the booming voice of an angry god.
5
Garrick’s head ached liked it had been caught between a hammer and an anvil. He slowly cracked open his eyes and saw dancing stars, zipping around like fireflies. Blue sky showed through a forest of brown and black wheat, bobbing and swaying sadly in the breeze. Even among the dancing lights he could see the Daylight Star twinkling above, brighter than usual. For reasons he could not explain, the sight of it haunted him to his core.
He expected to hear the whistle of the wind as it blew through the crops, but instead found his hearing muted by a high pitched ringing. Garrick pulled himself upright and his stomach lurched. He turned and vomited, the bitter smell of regurgitated ale rose from the ground to meet his nose, inducing another heave from his stomach that yielded nothing but dribbles of liquid and wheezing. He wiped thick spit that clung to his lip and looked around at his surroundings. He couldn’t remember how he got there, or even what he had done earlier that day. Memories kept fading in and out as he struggled to recall something as simple as his last meal.
He slowly climbed to his feet. Overwhelming dizziness nearly caused him to fall back down, but he managed to take a
few steps with the grace of a newborn fawn. He brushed through the plagued wheat and found himself standing before Fembleton’s forge. An odd line of stone rubble curved from behind the building and passed through the field. Feelings of familiarity entered Garrick’s mind when he saw the scars in the earth, but he still couldn’t recall what happened.
His eyes fell back on the forge and noticed its front door was ripped off and cast aside. Splinters of wood frayed out from the hinges.
“Seelios!” Garrick shouted. He couldn’t tell how far his voice carried with the persisting ring in his ears.
Garrick fumbled his hands over his body to see if he was wearing a weapon, but found nothing on his belt. He was ill-equipped to fight any bandits, but he’d be damned if he stood by when his friend was in need.
The inside was as much of a mess as the door. Furniture was turned over and broken in several places. Tools were scattered about, bags of sand and coal were poured out across the floor. The place was an utter disaster. Garrick wondered if Seelios and Ricker had made a mess of things trying to gather supplies, but there would’ve been no need to go out of their way to destroy their property. He looked at the anvil that had even been tipped onto its side, cracks in the stone floor reached out from the impact of its enormous weight. The amount of strength it would’ve taken to move that thing was far beyond his frail friend, but perhaps not Ricker. Even still, Ricker had a deliberate way of doing things. No matter the circumstance or state of emergency, Ricker always seemed to act with careful planning. The chaos of the forge didn’t seem like anything Ricker would’ve done. What happened must’ve been at the hands of someone else. The thought chilled Garrick’s spine. He couldn’t even think of the last time there was a threat of bandits in their part of the continent. Especially a town that was supposedly under the protection of a god. Perhaps the blight was making people truly desperate.
Garrick felt a subtle shake of the earth beneath his feet. He stepped over a broken chair and walked to the window. In the distance he saw a farmer running down the cobbled road out of the market square. The look on his face was one of sheer terror, throwing glances over his shoulder as if he were fleeing something in hopeless desperation.
Shuddering vibrations in the ground followed in quick succession as a large stone figure covered with glowing glyphs stomped after him. It caught up to the man in five strides and lifted him into the air. The man squirmed in the stone beast’s grip for a moment before the thing slammed him into the ground, sending a spray of blood that colored the road and stained the surrounding grass. Garrick backed away from the window, horrified. The image of the same creature came surging back into his head, holding Seelios hostage in the air.
Panic beginning to mount within his chest, Garrick ran out of the forge and looked for some sign of his friend. There was nothing but the crumbling ruins of Fembleton as it was torn to pieces by behemoths made of earth. Stone creatures with lines of light and glowing runes were ambling around the wreckage, tossing things out of the way and sifting through remains. He remembered the God of Earth appearing in the lake and raining down destruction, searching for Seelios’s father. With Ricker gone the god must’ve left to continue his search, leaving his minions to terrorize in his wake.
Garrick tried to calm himself and think. The circumstances that led up to his waking in the wheat field were beginning to dawn on him. His face felt tender and hot. He reached up to touch it and winced. When he pulled his hand away his fingers were wet with blood. The stone creature must’ve struck him quite a blow. The fact that he was still in one piece was a miracle.
He looked again at the creatures walking through the town, making an utter mess of things. He didn’t know the fate of Seelios, but others might still need help. His thoughts drifted to Emeline.
Garrick turned to the forest. If he fled into the thick of the trees he might be able to escape the stone creatures, but he couldn’t shake the thought of Emeline being in danger. He ran back into the forge and sifted through debris. The disarray of the place made it unrecognizable, but he’d remembered where most things were. He righted a fallen weapons rack and a long sword clattered to the ground. He sheathed it and tied it to his belt.
On his way to the square Garrick almost lost a boot to the thick mud of the water-logged dirt road. When he reached the cobbled stone he got a closer look at the destruction. Half of the buildings were missing most of their walls, as if they were cracked open like eggs and stripped of their insides. An overturned wagon bobbed in the water among large pieces of splintered wood that had once made up the foundation of a house.
Garrick barely made it past two shops when he felt vibrations in the ground. He scrambled for cover and crouched behind the remains of the tailor shop. He peered around the crumbling wall and saw one of the stone giants across the cobbled road, glowing green eyes slowly sweeping the area. They must have been constructs serving the God of Earth, but he couldn’t think of a single reason why a god would want to destroy their town.
The creature’s gaze drifted toward Garrick, forcing him to duck further behind the wall. He held his breath and prayed that he wasn’t seen. His last attempt to attack one of those things didn’t end well, so his only option was to hide like a scared mouse. Shaking footsteps got closer until they felt like they were nearly upon him. Small pebbles and dust fell down his neck as he pressed his body against the wall, trying to stay out of sight.
Garrick noticed movement to his right and saw the tailor’s wife trying to crawl from under a pile of debris. She grabbed at the ground with her hands, but couldn’t pull herself free. She turned and looked at Garrick, desperation in her eyes. She reached out to him, mouth pleading with what Garrick could only imagine were cries for help. Heavy steps vibrated like an earthquake and a shadow blanketed the area as the stone giant scooped her up. Garrick watched in horror as the colossal thing crushed her in one hand like a toy doll. Despite his loss of hearing, he could still imagine her screams as he watched her face of torment in the moments before her death.
Garrick got up and ran while the giant was occupied, wondering what he had gotten himself into, why he hadn’t just fled into the forest while he had the chance. At least twice he rushed inside a half-standing house as a stone creature walked past. He noticed that the glowing patterns on their skin looked just like the glyphs that appeared on Seelios’s ring. He huddled next to the corner edge of the cobbler shop and saw the Withertree Tavern and Inn standing at the edge of town. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon seeing the building, still standing whole. Its windows were boarded up from the inside, a sign people barricaded themselves within.
Garrick ran with reckless abandon, desperate to see if Emeline was there. He slid along the side wall of the tavern facing the forest and gave a knock on the window. One of the boards pulled away and a man appeared. He and Garrick made eye contact, and the man turned from the window and yelled something. Emeline’s pretty face appeared in a flash of red hair, her eyes wide with amazement. Garrick’s heart fluttered at the sight of her.
Emeline mouthed something excitedly as she pointed to the tavern entrance. Garrick tried to communicate back to her, wanting to tell her that it wasn’t safe to stay in the tavern, but she disappeared before he could finish. He peered around the corner and looked at the ruined remains of the market square. The heads of the rock creatures bobbed up and down as they stomped between buildings.
The door swung open, and Emeline poked her head out. She gestured at Garrick to come inside, saying something that he couldn’t hear. Just as he was halfway to the door, a rock giant stepped out from behind the cobbler’s shop and held its gaze in their direction.
Emeline didn’t seem to notice the approaching monster until the thundering footsteps shook the earth beneath their feet. She turned, eyes wide with horror, seeing the thing nearly upon them. She pulled Garrick into the tavern and slammed the door, bolting it shut as if that were to deter anything from following them inside. She slowly backed away from the quake o
f the approaching monster, wearing a look of deep concern. The tavern was filled with men, women, and children all wearing looks of tear-filled terror.
Emeline turned to Garrick and said something, panic written across her face. Garrick gestured toward his ear and said at an inappropriately loud volume, “My hearing; I can barely understand what you’re saying.” He glanced toward the door. “We can’t stay here.”
A plank of wood struck Garrick in the shoulder as the door caved inward, wrought iron twisted out of place and boards broke clean in half. The building shook as a massive hand of rock ripped through the inn on the second floor and pulled down a cascade of rafter beams, stone, and plaster.
Chaos ensued as people tried to run from falling rubble. Garrick drew his sword and swung at the stone arm that grasped around the tap room, but sparks flew as the blade glanced off harmlessly. He struggled to hold onto the weapon vibrating in his hands, his arms stinging from the attempt.
Emeline pulled at Garrick’s shoulder and shouted something that he couldn’t hear. He sheathed his sword and pointed in the direction of the bar.
“Back door,” Garrick yelled.
Emeline turned to look and nodded.
They wove through the obstacles of tables and escaped out the door that led to the kitchen. They raced past sacks full of food and lines of hanging cookware that swayed in the air. The entire building shook, threatening to fall to pieces as the stone monster tore through the building.
They escaped out the back of the tavern just in time to see half of the building collapse in on itself. Garrick thought about all the people inside. The rock giant was still picking through the rubble and tossing away whole pieces of the structure.
Not daring to brave the open Trade Road, they ran toward the thick forest that spanned behind the Withertree, hoping not to be followed. Garrick felt the yank of Emeline’s hand on his own, making him realize that they’d been joined almost the entire time. The revelation made him blush and forget about the dangers of the present, just for a moment.
As the Earthen Stag Walks (The Simulacrum Book 1) Page 5