The Lost Book of Chaos: How to Divide the World (The Secret Wars of Angels 1)

by Thomas, J. D.

  Reaching the farthest roof, he climbed his way down as careful as he could. As he did, the strange voice spoke to him again.

  Don’t you miss the times when things were much different?, Judas the traveller! Judas the teacher! Judas the healer! Now, you are only Judas Iscariot, The Betrayer!

  The voice laughed.

  He felt too tired to worry about what it all meant. What was this voice doing in his head? But, indeed, he had lived that life once. It seemed like a lifetime away. But the past was the past and there was no use dwelling in them. Judas gritted his teeth and growled at the voice, willing it away, but as if to mock him, the voice continued.

  Now, the same people whose sicknesses you have healed hunt you down. Those you have fed when they were hungry, those you have taught how to make a living for themselves, and the same people who you have given hope to in their moments of desperation, they all want you dead. The world has betrayed you. Only I am here, only I have stayed on your side.

  “Well I’d rather not have anything like you on my side at all,” Judas said. But there was no answer. Maybe the creature, demon, or whatever it was, and whether real or imagined, could not hear him.

  The voice wasn’t totally wrong either. The world had turned against him. And in this upside-down, fickle, cursed world, Judas had learned something important to survive. Trust no one. Question everything. And never assume anything as truth. Always test the truth that you knew.

  Because to doubt was to live.

  And to believe was to die.

  Suddenly, the inhuman voice chuckled. It sounded amused, and even satisfied, with how Judas was thinking. Could it hear him or his thoughts after all? But he had bigger worries. His pursuers had caught up to him faster than he thought they would. He had hoped to get to the forest across the edge of the city before they caught up, but it was still too far away and he probably would not make it. Instead, he headed back inside the city and turned around an alley, hoping to lose his pursuers in the cover of the crowd and the houses.

  Just a little more. As he ran, Judas felt the air burning inside his lungs like liquid fire. A sharp pain stabbed him on the side of his chest. His right leg throbbed, protesting against every stride he took. But he would not give up.

  Perhaps, just a short moment to rest. Judas turned around the corner. He didn’t have long. He never did. His heart boomed in his chest as if it would rip itself out. He had heard it beating loudly in his ears for a while now, and part of his face had started to feel numb from the exertion.

  After a few forced breaths, he took the opportunity to peer back at his pursuers around the corner, and was relieved to find that many of them had stopped too. He realized that they were probably more out of breath than he was.

  But complacency was the mother of all mistakes. He would never be complacent. Never again. He turned deeper into the alley, intent on putting as much distance as he could between him and his pursuers, but even as he did, his legs gave way. He groaned as his knees hit the cobbled road. When he tried to get back on his feet, his knee buckled.

  Was this the end for him? But no, there was always a way. There had to be. He didn’t go through all this trouble just to fail here. Judas gave a start as someone whistled a soft sound a short distance away. A woman had spotted him. Was she one of them?

  Here! The young woman mouthed, as if careful so his pursuers wouldn’t hear. The woman opened her door and gestured for him to hurry.

  Was this a trap?

  Judas suspected the woman might be pretending to help him now, only to have the bounty on his head all to herself later. But right now Judas didn’t have much of an option. With one leg failing him, Judas pushed himself up, then half hopped, half crawled to the house like a lame dog. Seeing how slow his pace was, the woman rushed towards him and pulled him along. Judas didn’t know if he should be thankful for her ‘help’ because, for all he knew, this was all an act. Though he figured, his odds were probably better facing one woman than a group of villagers. That was, of course, if she was alone.

  It seemed like it took such a long time to get there, each step taking longer than they should, somehow it always felt that way when he was on the brink of life and death. Either that or when he was in tremendous pain. Everything seemed to slow down to a certain degree as if to give Judas a chance to relish his last moments alive.

  But finally, they succeeded and got to the door just a few moments before his pursuers caught up with them. The woman looked left and right to make sure no one had seen them before finally closing the door. Judas took a quick glance to make sure there was no one else inside the house who might catch him off guard. Surprisingly, there was no one there aside from her. Good, that gave him better odds of living through this. But Judas had to wait before trying anything. If he fought the woman now and the woman screamed for help, he would be done for.

  The woman listened with her ears on the door, waiting. After a while, the pursuers passed by, and the sound of their footsteps trailed away. Tension turned into relief. But now, he had another problem to deal with, although much smaller. The woman still had her back turned to him, listening by the door. Should he attack the woman now and catch her off guard? Though he didn’t like the thought of turning on the person who had just helped him, Judas needed to do what he needed to survive. He wouldn’t hurt her badly; just enough to maybe knock her off her senses and then tie her to a chair while he escaped. There was, of course, the other possibility that she was someone who wanted to help... But it was too risky. His life was on the line here.

  Judas approached, ready to grab her. The woman suddenly turned and dashed at him with surprising agility. Judas put out a hand forward in a feeble attempt of a punch, but missed. Judas struck again, but the woman’s nimbleness made her seem to disappear right in front of his eyes. He swung his fist in a wide arc, hoping to catch her with it. All he needed was for one blow to hit, aside from her speed, she didn’t look very strong.

  Judas gritted his teeth as the woman’s knee caught his side and forced him to tumble backwards. He grunted in pain as the woman's foot landed on the side of his head. He tried to regain his balance but even before he could recover, the woman took his legs off the floor with a sweeping kick.

  He tried to stand up, but the woman was already on top of him, and she pressed a small blade dangerously against his neck. There was a prick of pain, and he felt sweat—or perhaps blood—drip down his neck. Judas had no idea how it had happened so fast. Judas cursed; he had underestimated her, and not by a small margin. He realized that she was probably more dangerous than the group he had just escaped from. At least his pursuers weren’t trained to fight like her.

  “Who are you and why were they chasing you?” The woman demanded. “DO NOT LIE. I will know if you’re telling the truth. And try anything like that again, and I will slit your throat.” Judas wailed weakly. He blinked away the tears that began to form in his eyes.

  “Answer my question,” the woman prodded. Judas felt the cold steel on his skin. He took a deep breath and let out a long exhale to calm his thoughts. One needed a clear head to get out of situations like these.

  “It’s all a misunderstanding,” Judas said, as he gently pushed the steel away from his neck. The woman’s grip was firm however. “I didn’t do anything and I’m not a criminal. They are chasing me for a crime I did not commit.”

  “For that many people to be chasing you, you must have done something pretty bad or angered the wrong people,” the woman said. “Which is it?”

  “I’m Judas Iscariot, and it’s neither,” Judas said. Suddenly, he felt a bit nauseous. But he kept talking, hoping to convince the woman not to end his life then and there. “I didn’t do anything bad; I didn’t anger anyone in high places, if that’s what you meant. I have no enemies. I’m just a scapegoat.”

  “A scapegoat?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes, you know, someone to take the blame,” Judas explained, then added, “for a crime I did not commit.”

>   The woman pressed the blade deeper. “Don’t fool with me! Of course, I know what a scapegoat is.” Judas cursed mentally at the blade’s cold touch. How was he supposed to know if she knew? After all, she looked like she was not from around here. Her skin was almost the color of ivory, with a rosy glow, in contrast with her black dress. Her dress had ornate patterns in silver, the pattern was unusual to the region. Her blade bore symbols written in letters unfamiliar to Judas. Her hair was deep black, with long, soft curls. She had a strange lilting accent. And for all he knew, the woman had come from a faraway land. Her eyes were dark brown in color. If she wasn't threatening to kill him, she would have been beautiful.

  “Where are you from?” Judas wondered.

  “I’m the one asking questions here,” the woman snapped. But Judas did not budge. He needed to hold his ground here, because that was the only way to survive situations like these. If he backed down, his enemy would sense weakness and then take advantage. To act like easy prey was to invite predators, and he would not be easy prey.

  “Are you going to turn me in?” Judas asked, trying to take back control, if only through words. The one asking questions was the one in control. He had learned that and many things while teaching and travelling all over the world. One needed to learn how to survive without having to fight. It involved running, and standing your ground, and keeping your cool, and learning how to talk your way out of trouble.

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “And why would I do that?”

  Why would she—

  But there it was. Suddenly, it hit him. She didn’t know. Maybe his initial suspicions were right. Maybe she just happened to pass by the city and didn’t know what was going on. She was a traveller. Everything about her was unusual for this place. For one, her blade spoke of high status. When she attacked him earlier, Judas noticed that on her belt she carried a satchel full of coins. Judging by the weight of the fall and the sound and the bulge, they were not mere copper coins. Gold? Silver? Gems? Maybe she was the daughter of a noble. In contrast, the house that she was staying in was old, and there was little in it, which meant she probably didn’t plan to stay here that long. But why was she alone? Was she hiding, or running away from someone? If so, that might explain her concern about him being caught with people in high places. And that might explain why she was now alone, despite apparently having the means to hire guards. She was probably separated from her protectors, and didn’t find it a good idea to hire guards she can’t trust.

  Judas wanted to test his suspicions. “They’re chasing me because they think I betrayed their Master,” he said, emphasizing the last word. It was very slight, most people would probably miss it, but there was a bit of alarm in her eyes at his mention of the word Master. “They believe that he died because of me.”

  “So you’re a murderer?” The woman pressed the knife closer against his skin.

  “Of course not,” Judas replied calmly. “The Master is still alive.”

  “But you said he died,” the woman pointed out. Judas took another deep breath. He would not allow himself to be drawn to her pace.

  “In truth, the Master didn’t really die,” he said. “He’s still alive, and while the rest of the world thinks I betrayed him, and his followers want me dead for it, he knows that I am loyal to him.” Somehow, he felt dizzier by the moment. Maybe that was from all that running around, and now he was suddenly lying down. That happened, sometimes.

  “So what you’re saying is that you and your Master fooled the world into thinking that he died?” The woman said. “And that many people were fooled quite easily? Is your Master a criminal like you?”

  Judas felt offended. “It just so happens, he is not a criminal. He is the one destined to save the world. And besides, there was no fooling others. They really saw him die. I saw him die. He was tortured like a criminal, but like me, he’s no criminal. He should be dead after what was done to him, but the truth is, he can’t be killed. And it’s all part of the plan. Besides, he is... not like us.” Judas was not sure why but he found himself revealing more details than he intended. He had to shut up now.

  “So you claim that your Master is a man who cannot die?”

  He tried to stop himself from revealing too much, realizing that he probably sounded crazy and what he was saying wasn’t really helping. But he couldn’t stop. “He cannot die. He is not like us. He has powers.” Judas forced his mouth shut. What was happening to him? Then Judas realized it. She must be doing something to him.

  Then it all came to him. She was a sorceress. That explained the symbols embedded on her knife. And somehow, she had cast a spell on him that forced him to tell the truth.

  “What is your goal?” the sorceress asked.

  “To meet with the Master,” Judas answered, “to find Sky Jerusalem.”

  “Sky Jerusalem?” she said. “What is this place? Where is it?”

  “I do not know where it is,” Judas said, “except that I must find it at all costs.”

  But her questioning did not end there.

  “What other crimes have you committed?” she asked.

  “None,” Judas said. “I’m a teacher, not a criminal. I travel the world, I make a difference in their lives, not destroy them.”

  Judas tried to clear his thoughts to resist her control. “What have you done to me?” Judas said.

  “What happened to your hands?” the woman continued, looking at the bandages on both hands.

  “They nailed me,” Judas said, “impaled me on the cross. I was there beside my Master, when he died. I almost died with him but managed to escape due to the confusion wrought by the power of The Master.”

  “Curious,” the woman said. “You actually believe what you’re saying is true.”

  But rather than continue, the woman sheathed her small blade and stood up. “I believe you, you are not a criminal,” the woman announced. But that did not calm Judas down. She was still dangerous. “So what you’re saying is, you played the role of betraying your master. And then you were crucified with him. It doesn’t add up. But to what end?”

  “It had to be done to fulfill the prophecies,” Judas answered.

  The woman looked thoughtful. “If I were your master, I would need to have great trust in you to put my life in your hands.”

  “Who are you?” Judas said. “What are you?”

  The woman just smiled, ignoring his question. “But no, I do not believe there is such thing as a man who cannot die,” she said. “Unless if he’s the Immortal King, but he isn’t. Everyone can be killed. But for some strange reason, you seem to believe what you say. Maybe you are delusional?”

  Judas remembered the voice in his head. Maybe he was delusional.

  “My Master can’t be killed,” Judas said. “What’s so hard to believe? You seem to possess powers of sorcery, so you know that there are forces beyond the understanding of humans, yet you do not believe in other powers?”

  The woman seemed to weigh his words. “What I did to you, you call it sorcery, but it is merely a matter of understanding how nature works. What I did to you was no magic. It is a mixture of herbs that makes you loosen your tongue. It’s hard to not reveal the truth when you’re in a state of not really caring that much about hiding it. But be warned. If I have to, I can use real sorcery on you.” Judas didn’t doubt that.

  “But there is an insurmountable difference between sorcery and the power over life and death,” the woman concluded. “If your Master has that power, then he must be one of the most powerful Magi alive.”

  The woman stood up and extended a hand to help him up. Judas hesitated, unsure what to make of her gesture. Cautiously, he reached out his hand and took hers. She pulled him up.

  “Thank you,” Judas said hesitantly. Maybe she wasn’t after his head.

  “But I don’t understand, why help me?” Judas asked. “What if I was dangerous?”

  The woman looked him up and down, mocking him. She knew he was no danger to her, and she was pro
bably right. “Not all people who are branded as criminals are criminals,” she answered. Did that mean that she was also branded a criminal? Well, that was common for sorcerers and witches. Was that why she was always travelling around? If she was indeed a falsely branded criminal, or someone she knew was one, that explained her willingness to help him despite being a complete stranger. But Judas sensed that there was something more to her than that. “In the meantime, you can stay here and tell me more about this Master of yours. As someone learning the Ancient Arts, he intrigues me. Perhaps I will even let you follow me around and I can keep you as a pet, safe and away from danger.”

  A pet? Judas opened his mouth to protest, but she raised a finger.

  “If you try anything, remember, I know how to use my knife, and I move faster than you. And keep in mind, I have powers that you can’t begin to understand. And unlike you, I have killed many people before.”

  True, Judas had never killed anyone before, and not that he would have wished otherwise. Killing was a burden on the soul, and Judas already had a lot of burden to carry. The woman pointed to a table and chair for him to sit. He exhaled a long breath. He decided that he was relatively safe for now, the woman had many chances to take him out, but she didn’t. “I’ll prepare something for you to eat, and then we can talk more.” Judas suddenly realized he was quite hungry. Was she going to put poison in the food? But that didn’t make sense. She didn’t need poison, her fighting skills and sorcery could do the job.

  “Who are you running from?” Judas asked.

  The woman stopped. Judas had hit a nerve. “What makes you think I’m running from anyone?” The woman said.

  Judas’s stomach groaned. He felt an unusual amount of burning inside, but that was probably because it was a long time since he had a decent meal. He felt a wave of weakness wash over him. He wiped the sweat that had been dripping for a while now on the side of his neck, only it wasn’t sweat, it was a small trickle of blood. Still, it was just a small trickle. It would heal. Judas’s thoughts began to wander. Then, he began to feel that his own thoughts were starting to lose any coherence. What was happening to him? His stomach groaned once more.