City of the Gods - Starybogow

by Rospond, Brandon; Kostka, Jan; Werner, CL

  “By the gods that is disgustin'...” Nikola said pointing to the heap of unidentifiable parts that had been the topielic that emerged first. “Quick, I'll get it with the silver while its busy eating.” Nikola added, and put a single foot forward before he was stopped by Cyril, his blade flat across his chest.

  “No, wait... if that thing had wanted us dead…”

  “Vucari do not kill for sport, or so the rumors say.” Rad said, grimacing at the blood that soaked through the right arm of his robes.

  “And so the rumors say...” Nikola said in a mocking tone.

  As they all wordlessly thought of a plan to avoid a second encounter with the much dangerous foe, besides run for their lives, the vucari stopped its assault on its long-dead victim and slowly turned its head toward the Mad Brothers. The clicking and clacking of their various weapons slowly rising into attack position was all that was heard.

  That was until the vucari sighed, and wiped its snout with one, massive forepaw. With little fanfare, the monster stared at them for what felt like hours and just as suddenly began to stride into the forest with a trot that wouldn't have been uncharacteristic of a domesticated hound. The three of them all watched, confused and unsure of what to make of the random encounter, until it barked in their direction.

  “You've got to be kidding me...” Cyril said under his breath.

  “What?” Nikola questioned.

  “It... wants us to follow it...?” Rad asked no one in particular.

  “Chyeah, there's not much I fear in this world. But the two things I do are vucari and you being unsure of yourself, Wise.”

  Without permission or even acknowledging them both, Cyril had already taken the leap and began to follow the vucari who stood, on all fours again, watching them as if impatiently waiting.

  “Cyril, you git! Would you follow a damn Servitor just as quick!? Come on, now!” Nikola shouted, looking back at the corpses of the topielics to make sure his sudden increase in volume hadn't revived them a third time.

  Again, without words, Wise Radomir began to follow Cyril and the wolf-man as well.

  “Oh, this is bloody brilliant! Let’s follow the thing that just eviscerated those creatures! Why we must follow in the steps of something that only silver can kill is beyond me!” Nikola stood still, arms crossed. Taking one last, long, shiver accompanied look at the fallen water-spirits, and their blood soaked bedrolls, the second oldest Mad Brother began to follow. “We’d have better luck with the damn Servitors, I swear it…”

  Servitors, Cyril thought as he carefully followed the wolf-like beast, the cursed followers of the Eldar Gods. Stories had made their way across the known world about the nightmarish beings that pledged their lives to the Dwellers of the Deep seemingly forever. Campfire tales of men rising from the waters of the sea, clad in armor like that seen on crabs and tentacles jutting out from their chins. They’d creep onto the shore and steal children from their beds as sacrifices to their gods. Horror stories of men in cloaks decorated with dried up starfish, cracked and sharpened sea shells sown into their sleeves, and their hair transformed into slick sea weed; speaking in tongues as if they were underwater.

  After he shook the imagery from his head Cyril decided he would much rather take his chance with the vucari any day.

  *****

  For the rest of the night, the three of them followed the now calm vucari through the forest. Rad tore a piece of his robe off to wrap his wound, Nikola's hand never strayed from the handle of his silver dagger, and Cyril seemingly mindlessly followed the wolf-being.

  Rad winced as he wrapped the make-shift bandage as tight as he could without cutting off circulation. Nikola briskly walked next to him.

  “You really think this is a good idea, Rad? I didn't keep myself alive for years fighting things like that,” he said pointing an accusing finger at the vucari, “by trusting them and letting them take the lead. Are we mad?”

  A slight chuckle erupted from beneath the beard. “Well, that is what they call us right? The Mad Brothers Three? Fancy we live up to it by some regard, eh? Besides, you and I met years ago, Nikola. You in turn knew Cyril's swords-master and we were recruited to find that young man's would-be bride. I do not have it in me to suddenly turn away from him. Lest we be in a situation in which we are forced to choose, I love him as a brother far too much to abandon him. And I know you can say the same.” As Rad lectured, Nikola sighed and scratched at his neck.

  “Yeah, you be right. But still. Leshiye I get. We were in a forest. The topielic...”

  “Must I bring up your involuntary swim in that creek again?” Rad asked, a single eyebrow raised. “You might have disturbed some of the restless spirits that resided in the water.”

  “It certainly explains why that one seemed to like you the most, Nik!” Cyril shouted from the front of the line. Rad and Nikola looked at each other. They were unsure how much of the conversation Cyril had heard, until he spoke the next words. “But, thank you both. I know this journey hasn't been easy and how we truly are the Mad Brothers now, but I cannot put into words just how much comfort it brings knowing that I have you two. My blood brother joined the Teutonic Knights some years ago, and afterward I hadn't known what to do. Follow in his footsteps, strike out on my own. It was a confusing time where I questioned everything I had believed in or had wanted in this world. That was until I met,” he fought back tears just thinking of her. “Until I met my Sun.”

  “Aye, we'll be with you every step of the way... no matter what you make us follow.” Nikola said, smirking. “Though I stop the line at anything with tentacles.”

  The three of them shared a hearty laugh as the tension of combat finally eased away and they began to see the sun rising from just below the treeline.

  *****

  As dusk was nearly upon them, they all marveled at the sight that revealed itself. They stood atop a large, moss covered hill, overlooking only three more miles of woodlands that broke away into rolling hills and meadows. The picture perfect sunrise would have warmed their hearts and eased their spirits, if it weren’t blemished by the gloom seemingly emanating from just beyond that. For there was Starybogow.

  “I'll be a right fool.” Wise Rad said. The three of them had stopped and took in the sight. Cyril crouched down, his hand on his mouth, positive that his lost love was growing every closer. Rad bore his teeth in pain as he held his journal in his bad arm to quickly check to see if the description he had written down some months ago matched what he was seeing. And finally Nikola stood, his hands on the back of his head, whistling his wonderment.

  But, as the three travel-weary men took a breather, their sightseeing was quickly broken up by a bark from the vucari who they hadn't realized was already half way down what looked like steps leading into the last remnants of the forest.

  “Ruins?” Cyril asked pointing to the cracked and crumbling stone.

  “Cyril, if this thing is leading us into its den to feed its family, I'll have you know that I'm changing my deal, and I certainly want coin for this.”

  The three of them swiftly followed, their achy legs and knees not aiding the shaky descent that the vucari made look so easy. As they entered into the forest, the fragrance of fresh water and pine trees consumed their senses; a welcome scent after their exposure to topielic. They were also amazed that the stonework hadn't stopped at the stairs, as they found themselves walking a hobbled walkway, though it had been long since its construction and countless stones were broken away.

  “Look there, lads!” Cyril exclaimed, the vucari had taken a bit of a lead on them and now awaited beneath the ruins of what was once a stone archway. Its massive frame obscured what awaited past it, but the three men were too entranced at the sight. It had been far too long since they saw anything resembling civilization.

  The Mad Brothers nervously followed, Nikola's hand once more firmly planted on the dagger and his other had twitchy fingers that were quick to reach to the sheathe upon his back. Cyril's eyes remained s
quinted and his face contorted in a confused fashion.

  And so when the vucari had kept along the path, and the Mad Brothers found themselves at an ancient waystation, where traders taking the road to Starybogow could stop to rest or trade goods. Thick, yet long crumbling stone walls closed off all sides of them, save for the two exits leading to and away from the long-fabled city; two quaint battlements arose where guards must have taken post assuring nothing had happened when traders passed through. A second set of steps led upward to a second floor not even a man's height taller than the original. It was a welcoming respite for them to behold.

  As they drew closer, the first thing to stand out was a bonfire upon the second level. It held a small, makeshift spit to cook meals, a bedroll accompanied by two books at its head, and a small bench that was piled with a large traveler's pack and a pile of assorted clothes. Someone had been living here.

  Before any could speak on the oddity, they noticed the vucari had not stopped. It walked toward the steps leading toward the camp, and their mouths opened wide at what they saw next.

  The wolf-man began to ascend the stairs but went on its hind legs to walk up them. The creature seemed to shift, shrinking as its posture corrected into a more human-like stance; the fur seemed to recede back into skin, the claws giving way to regular, human fingers, and its paw like hands and feet shrinking back to human proportions. The hair atop its head gave way to strands of long, ashen blonde hair and its snout vanished.

  In front of them stood no longer a creature feared for its killing ability, but a naked woman. Her bare skin glistened in the fresh sunlight, her naked arms reaching upward as she extended herself on the tips of her toes. A faint, yet very human yawn came from her lips... as she turned and looked at them from over her shoulder. Her chin delicately rested on one of the numerous scars she bore on her back, the same Cyril had noticed on the vucari the woman had transformed from.

  “That was some night wasn't it, my Moon?”

  He could not believe the face that turned to greet him, but when he heard the sweet, melodious voice of his long-lost fiancé, he could not stop the tears that seeped down his face.

  “Elena...”

  Without any hesitation he unbuckled his overcoat and raced toward her, taking the steps she stood at the top of in a single bound. He stood in front of her, looking into her blue eyes and admiring the beauty of her face for the first time in over a year. Wrapping her up in his overcoat and embracing her so hard, he found himself wincing, taking note of just how much muscle seemed to be hidden underneath her petite frame.

  And in typical Cyril fashion, all he could think to say was, “I'm so sorry that this coat is covered in blood.”

  The two kissed passionately and refused to let each other go. Wise Rad had nudged Nikola and signaled to give the two privacy as they walked back toward the road that they had taken.

  *****

  It was roughly two hours since they had arrived, and after some angry looks from Cyril, Nikola had finally unfastened his swords and unbuckled his armor. The four of them sat around a fire, two rabbits spinning on the spit. Elena freshly garbed, and Rad's wound cleaned and bandaged, the brothers welcomed true relaxation now they were at journey's end.

  “So... you ran away due to the vucari that runs through your blood?” Rad asked, removing his traveler's cloak revealing the inexpensive yet respectable tunic beneath.

  “You could have told me, Sun.” Cyril said, his head in her lap.

  “Yes, that would have gone swell! Lover, of course I'll join your family in holy matrimony but as a warning, I have the ability to turn into a wolf creature at twilight!” she jested with her thick, northern accent.

  “Sure would have made running through the glen with your kids a bit more interesting.” Nikola joined in.

  “Funny man, this one.” Elena said through her own giggle.

  Rad laughed himself, drooling over the fresh ink and quill Elena had given him. “I take this is why you sought Starybogow?” he asked.

  “Aye, I wanted to tell you, Moon, but... I feared that if I stayed in the village any longer, I'd have ended up being burned at the stake or tortured.” she answered.

  “I'd have protected you. You know that.” Cyril said, squeezing her arm in reassurance.

  “I'm sorry, Brother, but I don't think this particular damsel would be in distress. We all saw what she could do to topielic.” Nikola piped in.

  “Nasty things, they are. Taste even fouler.”

  “You can stop there, my love.” Cyril’s face scrunched in disgust as he stuck his tongue out. “I'm quite looking forward to this rabbit.”

  “This is what confuses me. You find out I'm a vucari but you’re not running for the hills or coming at me with that silver dagger of his.” She noted, pointing to Nikola.

  “We've seen quite a bit on the road, lass.” Wise Rad said.

  “Besides, if there truly is a cure in Starybogow like you said. We can at least accompany you and help.” Cyril sat up and wrapped his arms around Elena, turning his gaze back to his brothers. “That is... if you two wish to remain Mad Brothers and further aid me in this quest.”

  The three of them exchanged looks and finally Nikola smiled.

  “As I said earlier, Cyril, you've become my brother. I'm with you until the end.” Rad answered, the three turning their attention to Nikola.

  “I'm with you, too.” Nik playfully smacked Cyril's arm but raised one finger. “But, first. We have to come up with a name.”

  “A name? Of what?” Elena asked incredulously.

  “Of us! You’re a she! A toothy, clawed she at that! How about the Mad Brothers and the Wolf Sister?”

  “Oh, Nik...” Cyril shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  “The Mad Brothers and the She-Wolf?” Wise suggested.

  “Are they always like this, love?” Elena asked as the other two continued to shout out names for their new company.

  “Always...” Cyril sighed.

  Hallows Eve

  Jan Kostka

  Domovoi

  by Ivan Bilibin, 1934

  Brother Adalbert could tell when Brother Anselmo had the visions coming on. He would start to play with his rosaries before bleeding from his nose. They were usually in prayer together, when the visions hit, and Anselmo always did as the Holy Father had taught him to keep himself under control and from what he told Adalbert, to keep the demons out. Whenever they spoke, Anselmo always said that he fought back with his faith, concentrating, focusing on one point, then as if glass breaking, his world shattered into darkness. This moment was one of such times.

  Adalbert perched next to his fellow and he could see that the world must have been coming back to him slowly as Anselmo’s eyes reopened. He, alongside Brother Witold, helped Anselmo sit up. There was confusion in his eyes, and it took a few moments before Brother Anselmo recognized the other two. Brother Adalbert tried to stop the blood as best he could, but the trail, now dried, still came from his nose, down the front of his cassock, and all along the palms of his hands. His long black hair, now streaked with grey, hung limp and straggling across his face. Brother Witold leaned in toward Anselmo and smiled when he got his attention.

  “Be still, Brother. You have successfully fought the demon. The Holy Father is right to have faith in you. Give yourself a second.”

  Adalbert knew that Witold did not really care about Anselmo. He was not even sure that Witold believed in Anselmo’s powers, but Witold knew if other people believed in Anselmo’s gifts, he would by association be looked on with favor, by being close to him. Adalbert reached his hand to the prostrate monk. He touched the monk, but then backed away as if he was struck by lightning. Anselmo was still pulsating for a moment or two after one of his ‘visions’ and Adalbert knew that if he made direct contact, skin to skin, he could feel the residual effects. Brother Nachtel had been thrown against a wall with smoke coming from his hair, when he had touched Anselmo once. Through the blessing of the lord, he used this fo
rce, this ‘electricity’ to keep the demons in check.

  “Come, Brother. Let us clean you and give you some nourishment so you may rest and prepare.”Adalbert had a small but muscular frame that made it easier than Witold to help up Anselmo. He didn’t have the facial hair the other brother had yet, but he started to show light blond fuzz. He was one of the tallest brothers in the monastery after the masters, but never used that to intimidate the others.

  “Yes,” Witold repeated with a look of concern that was forced, “so you may rest and prepare.”

  The prone monk leaned over on an elbow, then with the help of Adalbert, got onto his knee, then stood up. Adalbert was quickly elbowed out of the way by the sycophant Witold. “I will take him back to his cell, Brother. No need for you to worry. Just clean up the floor.”

  Adalbert stood for a second, knowing that two people were supposed to be with Anselmo at all times. As he watched Brother Witold walk away with Brother Anselmo, he knew he would have to say penance for contemplating kicking his fellow brother. He would worry about that at confession; for now, he needed to attend to the floor. Brother Misko was there to help, but Adalbert decided he would work in silence by himself. Sometimes, the young novices did not do a thorough job and the stones were stained over the years by the brothers that bled from the transformation. Now, more than ever, the brothers needed to be vigilant to protect Anselmo and whoever might replace him.

  In the old age, Perun and the others had sacrificed themselves to bind the old ones inside a portal. Over the years, cracks had appeared as some of the old ones escaped. Brother Anselmo was used to reinforce the wards; the monastery resided on the doorway between worlds, connected to one of the waylines of power and energy. Nearby lay the town of Starybogow, the center of planes between worlds. By holding the wards in place they assured that outside forces could not release the Eldar Gods, but someone had effected a major breach. In some cases the lesser gods had been co-opted by the Christians, some like the brothers in this monastery had just remained hidden in place, replacing the guise of pagan priests for Christian ones. The town of Starybogow was the nexus of the portals. There was a shrine to the gods where they sacrificed themselves against the old ones and over time Prussians, Slavs, and Balts gave way to Teutonic Knights, Lithuanians, and Tartars. Towns rose and fell, but the brothers stayed immemorial as watchers and protectors. Now though, a breach had been effected as they had not seen for many generations. There were forces at play here as there always were that could break this wide open.