by Ross Turner
He paused now, taking another drink he set about preparing the food Isabel had sanctioned from their rations. He continued as he worked.
“Enthel, as a Gryphon, is a symbol of divine power. His people are warriors and have great pride. His people bear the Gryphon as a symbol on their weapons and armour. Their pride often leads to confrontations, but none genuinely hate each other, they are just very competitive. Another of their more innate traits is the ability to adapt to their surroundings and situations. Most travel and hunt and explore, so they build makeshift homes as they move.
“Now, Koack, as a Phoenix represents rebirth and everlasting life, rising from the flames in reincarnation. That isn’t literally true, the people of Vak’Istor aren’t reborn after death from their own ashes, but they do live an unusually long time, similar to my people, if not longer.”
They sat in silence for a while and watched the flames flickering only feet from where they sat, keeping them warm from the darkness as the temperature dropped. The small clearing was nestled just in from the edge of the block of woodlands they’d found, providing them with shelter from the worst of the weather.
Zanriath handed Isabel her dinner and she ate eagerly, though struggling to stay awake.
“Koack’s people take a more spiritual view on life; they’re very religious, they live peacefully and usually very happily. They believe that after death, their souls or spirits are ‘reborn’ alongside Koack, where they will remain for an eternity. To them, that is their immortality and it is worth much more than a physical life. Whether you believe that or not is your decision.” He paused. “And finally we come to Depozi. I know you know what has happened to Him, but I know how it happened.”
For a moment the trees rustled loudly as a chill wind whipped through their camp, charging even in between the thick trees surrounding them. Isabel shuddered at the sudden blast but looked to Zanriath with beseeching eyes, eager to know what he knew. It was becoming noticeably colder as the night wore on and she was grateful for the fire that still burned brightly before them.
“He wasn’t always known as a Demon-Lord. Once the four Gods had settled here, everything went very smoothly, exactly the way it had always gone when they’d settled before. But then they encountered a new problem - they’d never expected evil to arise, especially from their own brother, and they didn’t predict it. Three civilisations lived in harmony with each other. Yes in Hinaktor the people fought, but it was for pride, not out of hate or evil. But in Land something terrible happened.
“The four islands are joined by bridges extending over the ocean, which meet at a single four-way junction that we call Compii Tower. Four creatures guard the tower; they’re badly disfigured and not human, but they possess great power, given to them by the Gods to prevent people crossing to different islands. They made it that way to prevent disease spreading between civilisations. That was a problem they found many millennia ago, and they all lost their people through plague. Over time they’ve found that separating their people was the best way to prevent mass problems like epidemics.”
“So Depozi is mad and evil and he is trying to kill His brothers’ people?”
“Depozi isn’t evil Isabel, most definitely not. He is lost. Confused. This horror He’s causing Tamarack is through nothing but a misguided lust for revenge. The idea of Him being evil is a rumour spread by the first people who saw the demons, but I suppose understandably so.”
“Revenge? Against who? Who could harm a God, aren’t they… well… immortal?”
“Just because you can’t physically harm someone doesn’t mean you can’t hurt them. Depozi’s people were the ones who suffered, and that tore at His heart. He commits these atrocities for His people, to protect them. But since He began, He’s slowly lost His mind, and now can’t see the harm He’s causing.” Zanriath paused a moment and closed his eyes.
“Zan? Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He replied opening his eyes and turning his eyes skyward once more. “Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping.” Then his face turned more serious and he leant back. “A man lived in Land, some years ago now, before you or I were born.” Though he tried to keep his tone light, Isabel could see he was coming to the crux of Depozi’s anger. His eyes were his giveaway. “This man was normal enough, a carpenter. He had a family, a wife and two daughters. From what I’ve been told his wife and children were beautiful. He loved them very much and he was good to them. They were very happy together.”
“That sounds too good to be true…” His returning glance confirmed Isabel’s notion.
“Indeed. One year, disease plagued the Island. I’ve been told it was horrific. People fell dreadfully ill. I think really for those who did catch the plague, they weren’t likely to survive. It began with the animals, killing many cats, dogs and the like, but then it spread to humans. It was exactly the kind of thing the Gods were trying to prevent from spreading. His two daughters fell ill, terribly ill. They suffered for weeks, but it only got worse. The carpenter and his wife cared for them day and night, because they loved them so. But they could do nothing but watch them suffer. Eventually, the girls both died, the elder two days after the younger. The couple were mortified and they grieved endlessly for their children.”
“That’s terrible.” Isabel said in a hushed voice.
“I know. But luckily it seemed than the mother and father were immune, they’d spent so much time with their daughters and were still healthy - they had to be. The only problem was that this particular disease lay dormant for weeks, usually until it was far too late to do anything about it, which is why the casualties were so high. No one was aware of the epidemic until almost everyone had been infected. Only those who were immune, about thirty percent of the population, survived.
“Then the carpenter’s wife then fell ill. And like her daughters before her, she died a long, slow and painful death. He could do nothing to help her. He could only care for her and watch her condition worsen. She died, leaving her husband alone and tormented by memories of his family. The poor soul lost his mind.” By this point Isabel’s face was white and tears welled in her eyes. She felt for the poor soul, wished she could have helped him. “When I say he lost his mind, I mean completely. He was angry, depressed, desperate, lost. He cast himself into the ocean, off the Black Cliffs to the west of Land. He would have drowned. He wanted to drown. But he was saved. Well, he lived at least.”
“But why did that make Depozi angry? He survived and he’d done nothing wrong.”
“You’re right, he didn’t die, but he wasn’t the same. Those thousands of souls trapped in the ocean found him, and stole him away from the living. They turned him into a monster. They infected his mind and used his body. They sent him back to Land and used him to exert their anger and their desire for revenge.
“I don’t know why they did it. They gained nothing from it, and it left them no less angry. He killed so many more people, but he had no idea. I doubt he had a single sane thought left in his mind. With the other three Islands living in a certain kind of harmony, Depozi couldn’t bear the suffering of His people. And neither He nor His brothers could do anything to remedy the situation. He too lost His mind.”
“And then he called forth these demons? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“He allowed them through. He was blinded by his anger. I’m sorry, but there wasn’t time, I needed to know about your power. He believed the souls were swarming among His people, infecting them just like the plague, and He wanted to eradicate them. He called the demons forth from their realm, and as you said, they’re uncontrollable, He can’t just send them back, not that I think He would if He could, so they’re running amuck through Tamarack.”
Zanriath paused and Isabel thought for a moment.
“So why now, all of a sudden, are the demons getting more violent?” She asked. The demons had lived in Land for years; her father had spent his whole life fighting them. Why now were they spreading?
“I’m not
sure Isabel, but something’s happened, and I’m certain it has something to do with that boy.”
“What about the other Gods then? Can’t they stop Depozi? Or the boy?”
“I’m afraid not. They can’t control the demons any more than Depozi can. Regardless of what you’ve been told, the Gods aren’t in control of the world around us. They don’t decide when people are born, when people die, and definitely not what choices they make. They govern their people, and may discreetly push them in a certain direction, making small changes as time progresses, but never large or immediately noticeable ones. The difference with the demons is that their realm is unstable. They want to break free into Kingdoms such as this. They want to escape and spread. The Gods simply ensured their realm remained sealed…and then Depozi released them. He tore a hole between the realms. Now they’re coming through, and if we can’t stop them, they’re going to kill everybody.” Zanriath’s insight was profound and should have taken Isabel back somewhat, but she accepted it quite easily for some reason.
“So what do we do? If they can’t stop this, how can we?” She asked.
“That’s where we can actually change things. Being physically bound to this world gives us the chance to make radical changes, to take drastic measures. And we’re the ones who have been chosen to make those changes. The Gods are bound by rules and restrictions, just as we find ourselves bound, probably more than you realise. They must bend their own will to comply with their rules. They aren’t free in the slightest. They may only reveal themselves physically to someone when it is deemed necessary, and they may only grant permission through Compii Tower to certain individuals. I only hope the guards can fend off the demons’ attacks. Having the demons Kingdom-wide would cause us much bigger problems.”
“So that’s why I’m here? The God’s brought me here to stop the demons?”
“No Isabel. They guided you here, but it wasn’t their choice. Don’t hold any resentment; they have no more choice than you do.”
“You said the Gods aren’t free? That they may only do things when they’re told it is necessary? What’s more powerful than a God?” She asked, a little afraid.
“I have spoken with my mentor about that on several occasions, and I don’t think even he knows the answer.” Zanriath replied sighing honestly.
“But surely…whatever this thing is… it would have stopped Depozi from allowing the demons through from their realm? If it controls the Gods I mean?”
“I think Depozi gave up that right when He made His choice.” Isabel sighed and chewed her bottom lip for a minute, ticking over this sudden flurry of seemingly insightful information.
“I’m not as strong as my parents were.” She concluded lamely. “It shouldn’t be me.”
“No Isabel.” Zanriath’s face grew stern. “Yes, they were powerful, but you can fight demons, and it’s your potential the Gods are interested in - how hard you’re willing to fight, not how strong you already are. How far you can go, how much you will sacrifice to win in the end. And the end certainly hasn’t been decided yet.”
“Why…what have I got to fight? All the demons?” The question escaped her lips with a slight quiver, though somehow the answer already hovered in her mind.
“We have to stop this, once and for all. You have to kill Depozi.”
9
The woods grew thicker and what little light there had been faded further with each passing second. The trees closed in, desperately clinging for claustrophobia. Branches reached out from the thick darkness grabbing at Isabel’s hair and raking her exposed face. Bulky roots tripped and clawed her ankles; in the gloom she could see nothing - oncoming branches battered her poor body, cutting and bruising her as she ran.
She was exhausted. Fatigue surged through her muscles and they screamed at her to stop running. But she didn’t, she couldn’t. She continued groping ahead into the near pitch black.
And the darkness beckoned her closer, all the time swallowing her into its depths. The trees were broad and sturdy. They wanted her to stop, wanted her to collapse against them, wanted her to give up. Finally, overwhelmed, she stopped running, slowing to a walk, her heart racing. She kept her hands outstretched, feeling blindly ahead into the blackness.
A clap of thunder rang out and immediately she became aware of the almost deafening sound of rain pummelling the trees above her. The snaps and snarls of horrific beasts were still evident from the way she’d come. She couldn’t see. It was cold here, alone in the darkness. But nonetheless, she was grateful. The intense canopy of leaves and ferns above sheltered her from the roaring downpour and the dense woodland surrounding and encasing her was strangely protective.
The demons had come with the storm, charging the clearing where they’d so securely rested. In her weariness, Isabel had sensed their presence only moments before the attack and they’d bolted from their camp. They would have stood no chance. At least seven demons had pursued them into the Great Forest. The last thing Isabel had heard was the shrill cry of their horses being slaughtered, and that was just as she’d crossed the clearing to the trees, hoping in desperation that the woodland would be thick enough to lose herself amidst the blackness. And in the rush of their flight, she had also lost Zanriath.
The storm was deafening and suddenly it was all she could hear. She prayed that the demons couldn’t follow, that the trees were large enough to hide her, and that it was too dark and noisy to find her. Why should she pray? Who would listen? It was her God who’d set these beasts upon her. So she prayed to Ormath, to Koack and Enthel. She prayed for help in her task. But nevertheless, she soon found herself praying for Zanriath - for safety in his escape.
Her outstretched hands touched the cold, hard bark of a tree looming before her. Her eyes were slow adjusting to the almost complete darkness, but fuzzy outlines gradually stood out from the inky black. Collapsing to the floor at the base of the trunk, she leaned back and wrapped her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to fight the chill she could feel swiftly beginning to grasp her.
She missed Zanriath. She missed the comfort she found in him. His arm round her shoulders was all she wanted - she yearned for that security. It was only at this point she began to realise how she really did need him now, after everything that had happened in such a short time. She was desperately worried, but couldn’t bring herself to shout his name into the night; the fear of demons hearing her, or finding him if he came looking for her, was far too great to risk.
Isabel was very cold, freezing alone in the depths of the Great Forest. Was it the cold affecting her thoughts? Was she just thinking irrationally through terror? Why did his presence make her feel so secure, so safe and protected? How did she feel?
Either way, it would make more sense for him to go on without her now. He could find somebody else to replace her. A peculiar thought crossed her mind at that point, if only for an instant. What if there was no one else? What if there could not be anyone else?
For what felt like hours she sat huddled in the dark, her mind racing through a hundred possibilities. He must have gone by now. He was probably halfway to Compii Tower. She was done. The exhaustion and cold were getting the better of her. Her head rested on her knees and she kept her eyes closed tight. Though that made little difference with the lack of light, she felt at least a little more hidden. What would happen if she slept? Would Zanriath find her in the morning and the demons would have given up? Or was she too cold? Would she die? Did it matter? It always seemed that whenever she panicked all she could think of was questions. More and more questions. Why?
‘Isabella.’ In an instant she jerked her head up and her eyes bolted open, wide and full of fear. What was that? Who was that? All was silent. She began to wonder whether she was hearing things. The voice hadn’t come from any direction. Perhaps she was imagining things.
‘Isabella.’ It was clearer this time and she was less startled, an intense curiosity coming over her instead.
“Yes? Where are you?” Forge
tting the demons, her voice echoed into the darkness all around her. But there was no reply.
‘You must find Zanriath. He cannot, and most definitely will not, continue without you.’ The voice was kind, yet wise and authoritative. It reminded Isabel of her father.
‘Who are you?’ This time she didn’t speak the words, just thought them, forming them slowly and carefully in her mind. And sure enough, the voice replied - she must have been going insane in her exhaustion.
‘I am a friend to Zanriath, and a friend to you, He is looking for you.’
“Where is he!?” Speaking aloud again, almost shouting, Isabel leapt to her feet, a newfound wave of hope and energy rushing through her veins. But the voice was gone.
“Where is he?” She repeated, once again speaking her words. But then she thought of the demons and bit her tongue. Still there was silence. “Zan?” She said softly, almost as a sigh, her hope fading drastically. The closest she’d come was hallucinations.
Then, only moments later she heard a familiar voice.
“Isabel?”
“Zan! Is that you?” She hissed through the night.
“Where are you?” Though he sounded quite close it was difficult to determine exactly where he was with their voices echoing round in the dark.
“Here. Can you hear me?” For a moment there was silence. “Zan?” She called urgently.
“Shhh. Don’t move. I’m coming.” He instructed and she froze to where she stood, every muscle tensed. Had the demons followed them? Was he hurt? Her mind raced once more in panic. She waited. Staring forward, she watched the trees dance in a dim but warming blue glow, seeming to flicker left and right in a steady rhythm. The branches waved silently as the light moved between them. It grew stronger.