The Second Coming

by David H. Burton

  He moved to step forward and John tried to sort out in his head what was happening.

  The boy was of his seed, but not the Beast?

  The prophecy called for a male.

  And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne.

  He looked to the woman that carried Sephirah’s soul with a look of confusion.

  There was a gleam in her eye and she mouthed the words, “I switched their souls.”

  ***

  Paine felt as if a stone had struck his chest.

  His own sister had been responsible?

  It wasn’t possible. He looked to her and there was a look of seething in her eyes; hatred in a form so pure it was like she was darkness incarnate. She stood there, sliced hand dripping with red, owning her betrayal of him on her stone face.

  She had already called forth the beings from the parchment, the same ones she had summoned in the ancient ruins. It seemed a lifetime ago. She beckoned them closer with a pale, white finger. Paine could see them — four twisted beast-men and one woman, rulers of the netherworld. Lya’s head moved only slightly as Paine walked towards her. He felt their constant hunger.

  Her face remained impassive, cold. “So now you know. I will not extend an invitation to join me. Your soul is weak.” She spat at his feet. “You have not altered my plans much; I still have the Soulstone Tablet. And Dark Wind may not be at my call now, but it will be. Once it has had enough of this land and eaten its fill, I will come back for it.”

  “Who are you? You’re not my sister.”

  Lya laughed. “Fool! Who do you think was tempting you in the mirror so long ago. My plan has been long in the making. I almost had you where I needed you. And I used Billy Chapman to get at you. And I would have had you were it not for that fucking wolf.”

  “Fang?”

  “She did something to you; gave you the ability to fend off my influence, but I will see to her kind soon enough. And as for you, my brother, I cannot let you live. I am not sorry for your demise. You’re pathetic. And to think a boy was supposed to be chosen.”

  She grinned, and it was sickening. Lya pointed and the five sovereigns of Hell came at Paine in a rush.

  They bit him and slashed at his skin. He burned in places unmentionable and his legs grew festering sores. Paine screamed. Then he bit back the anguish and sent his own legion of dead forward. He reached out to the five demons that dared to assail him, his will strong.

  I am Little Badger. Serve me.

  He fought with his sister’s control over them; the blood that ran in his veins was potent; more so than what dripped from his sister’s hand. Their hunger for blood and the souls of the living was palpable, frantic. They came to him with little resistance.

  While he pulled them towards him and offered them his blood; the man in black robes went after Puck; his long black spear taking swift jabs and swipes at the demon. The man moved well as the demon struck back with green fire and curses of his own.

  The woman that spoke with his mother’s voice had tears in her eyes. Before her appeared Dïor, cloaked in shadow and darkness. She pleaded with him, but about what Paine did not hear over the screams of the demons and the thunder that rolled across the heavens. Dïor shook his head, took her face in his hands, and kissed her on the forehead.

  Agares, Morax, Balam, Tephros, and Vepar having accepted his offer, waited for his command. They resided within him. Paine held them back. He could not attack his own sister. Yet the rage in him wanted retribution. Her betrayal soured his stomach and pierced his heart. And the shame that she had fooled him for so long was maddening. He held the demons back by a thread.

  Lya grabbed a Hunter by the hair and stuck his throat with her blackened blade. She summoned others — Byleth, Ariel, and Malphas; fiends from the depths of the underworld. They were accompanied by others — legions of their twisted underlings.

  All were easily swayed with the offer of Paine’s blood. They came to him and Lya screamed her rage. They slid under his skin, an accumulation of malice and anguish. It was vile, yet savory. He closed his eyes, enticed by their depravities. The legions were wanton and reckless, but their masters were deliberate. Their power was decadence.

  Lya threw her dagger at Paine. He ducked and it grazed his arm; the place where his heart would have been. She unsheathed a knife and shoved through the demons and Hunters, towards the angel, slicing down those that stood in her way.

  Paine reached out to the angel, like he did to the others; and the offer of his tainted blood made the being pause. He felt it probe him; search his heart. He felt its power; like the foundations of the earth. And this time, he didn’t beseech the angel with just his own blood. He craved this being’s might, so he offered the blood of others as well. There was a field of it, spilled about his feet. He would take the rest of the Hunter army if this one would serve him.

  The angel’s face was stolid, unreadable. Then the being leapt into the air, and with a few quick flaps of his wings he snatched Lya from the crowds. His black wings carried them skywards and Paine stepped towards them.

  His feet were immobilized and he looked back.

  Puck offered a sickening grin. “You are still mine.”

  The full force of what lay within Paine’s veins, the spirits of Hades and the countless dead, surged forth with his full displeasure. They lunged at Puck, and Paine did not stop them. He allowed them their indulgences of malice and it struck Paine as odd that these creatures would be so eager and willing to mutilate one of their own. The demon did not last long. His cries of anguish and aggravation echoed as his limbs were ripped and torn from him.

  “It is not over!” he cried and then his voice was muffled as his tongue was taken from him. His body flailed and wriggled until even it was torn. Then he ceased to move.

  Paine opened himself, waiting for Puck’s soul, eager to take it and learn. He would have his knowledge and memories. And the knowledge would be succulent.

  But, again, Puck’s soul did not come to him. It slipped across the plains and there was a sickening sensation that it was grinning as it slid towards the sea.

  “Triune,” muttered the man in black robes. “And I know where its third form resides.” The man coughed. The air was getting thick, putrefying; like the scent of death was leeching into everything around them.

  Triune?

  Paine wanted to scream his rage at losing him once again, but one of the Sovereigns whispered to him. It was Vepar, the female one.

  *A triune has three forms; three as one.*

  I want his cursed soul!

  *Then have this one lead you to him.*

  And I want my sister. She will pay for this.

  *Your sister has been plotting for years. Patience is useful to those that wish revenge. Take your time. Prepare yourself for her.*

  Paine not only recognized the wisdom of her thinking, but felt it as well. The others weighed in with equal support of the notion.

  So be it. Her time will come.

  “You will take me to him,” he said to the man in black robes.

  The man looked to the sky, to where the sun hid behind the roiling clouds. The day was getting late. He gripped a bloodied wound upon his arm.

  “There are Portuguese galleons moored in New Boston. I will meet you there. There is some business I need to take care of.” Then he gripped the black spear and ran, skewering a goblin-like beast along the way.

  Paine marched over to the woman that spoke with his mother’s voice. Dïor had left her.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I am the soul of your mother.”

  The air thickened and he knew there was little time. He could sense Dark Wind’s presence. Its wicked laughter was faint, but Paine recognized it from the Westwood.

  “What am I?”

  “That man that left is your human father. Possessed by the Spirit of the one who would see his return to power fulfil
led, he planted the seed in me against my will.”

  A Haudenosaunee man stood next to the woman and gripped her arm. On her other side stood a black-skinned man who closely resembled the woman.

  “You were supposed to be a Son of Man,” she continued, “the Beast, but during your birth I switched your souls. Your spirit was supposed to be born as my daughter — the heir to the throne of Valbain.”

  “So now I am neither the heir, nor a Son of Man.”

  “Correct. And your sister is both. But some of your birthright is still yours. In your veins runs the blood of twelve score lives that were slaughtered for your inception – blood that I was forced to drink. Your blood holds that power and you hold power over even the dead now. They will heed your call.”

  She coughed. Dark Wind’s presence was nearly on top of them.

  “And what about that thing?” he asked, pointing to the cloud of death from which birds fled in flocks.

  “Created to gain power, by Gregor and I and the Lastborn. Your afterbirth was used in the spell with the Soulstone Tablet to entice one of the seraph, the highest of angels. But your blood tainted it and made its fall from glory so great that even its own master would likely fear it.”

  “Can I control it?”

  “Its power has grown since its birth. I don’t know that you can any longer.”

  Paine pulled from his pocket the parchment. “This is your writing, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  The Haudenosaunee pulled on her arm. “We must leave.”

  Sephirah’s voice spoke quickly. “It is the spell that I used to switch your souls. I hoped that Gwen would give it to you. It was meant for you and not your sister, in case she grew up as she did. I had hoped we could reach her and help her to mature without her heritage, but she found it anyway.”

  “Did Gwen know who we were?”

  “She knew that something dark had been involved in your conception, but I never told her I switched your souls. She knew only that you were a bastard child. I told her to raise you in a quiet place where you would not find your way to an evil path.”

  Paine nodded. It made sense now.

  “How can I read this writing?” he asked. “I can see it, but I don’t understand it.”

  “I am no longer living, and the woman to who I am twinned does not possess a power that I can use to give you the answer. Dïor still lives, even if it is as a shadow of what he once was. I asked him to give you that knowledge, but he refused.”

  A black cloud rolled across the Witch Plains, making for them. Its speed was fierce and its scent was putrid. Paine now heard its wicked laughter clearly. He reached forward with the dead as his hands. He latched onto Dark Wind, holding it as it loomed over his mother. He cried out to her, around a great lump in his throat.

  “Go, get on the ships!”

  With her good hand she reached towards him. She touched his face with a finger that was soft and smooth.

  “No! You must go!”

  He took one last glance at the woman who bore his mother’s soul before he ran towards Dark Wind’s waiting embrace. Perhaps there was a chance he could stop this.

  Laughter echoed across the sky and the air thickened. Paine’s lungs heaved. He ran and Dark Wind’s presence surrounded him, cradling him. The laughter whispered in his ears and tremors shook the land. His power summoned forth legions of souls to his aid. The sovereign rushed forth. He ran towards the heart of the entity, and it suckled on him like a leech. He fell to his knees, gripped the earth, and invited the evil unto him.

  “Come to me.”

  Chapter 28

  Brahm watched Paine run into the Westwood. She knew that look — a final desperate act.

  White Feather was beside her. “You heard him. We must go!”

  Mason grabbed Brahm’s other arm. “Let him do what he must. We must make for the port. Now!”

  The two pulled Brahm towards New Boston, fleeing behind the rest. The demons, their numbers decimated, fled north into the forests and the Haudenosaunee, Obek and wolves chased after them.

  Brahm looked to White Feather as they ran. “Your people are not getting on the ships. They head north.”

  Though he ran at her side, his eyes delved deep into hers. “My place is with you, Orenda.”

  She held out her hand to him, only to find it missing. The second soul within her cradled her with both its arms. Brahm let herself melt into the other woman’s presence.

  We are one.

  -We are Orenda.-

  ***

  Paine knelt in the mud where blackness slithered into him. It was not slow and subtle. Instead it was swift and abrupt, invading every orifice. It thrust its way along his spine, through his veins, and straight to his soul. He moaned with its impact.

  He struggled to fight, but it siphoned his will. He thought of Dïor's heated words and they burned through him. He thought of the Clan Mother, of his parents, all slaughtered because of his sister. His anger was righteous.

  Paine looked up at soft footsteps that padded the ground ahead of him. A being of great magnificence stood within the darkness. It had six wings; two which covered its face, two which covered its feet, and two with which it could fly. Then it changed and morphed into the boy of the Westwood.

  You should be dead.

  The boy opened his cherry lips to speak, but the words were uttered in Paine’s head.

  *Let me help thee.*

  He offered Paine his little hand.

  Paine called forth everything he could summon and drove it at the boy.

  Who are you?

  The boy smiled.

  *Once I was called Nahash.*

  The boy flicked his wrist and the souls turned on Paine, funneling back towards him.

  *I can give ye power.*

  Paine gripped the earth. He sent the dead forward again, screaming.

  The boy stood in front of him. His smile was pure and white.

  *I can give ye all that thou desires.*

  He turned his head away from Paine for a brief moment. A light emanated from behind him. Paine followed the boy’s gaze to see a white aura and five beings walking towards him, a wolf at their lead. The boy squinted and the ground shuddered.

  *I will spare thy companions.*

  The terrible weight of the darkness forced itself upon Paine. He crawled out of their sight. He could not let them share his fate.

  Not like Little Doe.

  The boy extended his hand once more.

  *I can end thy guilt. I can promise ye control.*

  Paine paused.

  The boy’s black eyes blinked.

  *I can give ye knowledge. Eat of the tree. Your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.*

  Paine reached up, hesitant. His hand trembled.

  *I can help thee against thy sister.*

  Paine clasped his strong, tiny hand. And with the cold tightening of the boy’s fingers, Paine felt a similar grip on his soul and heart. He closed his eyes, embracing it. There was always a price.

  What do you want?

  *I need a new body. This one hungers greatly and I wish to leave this land.*

  He invited the boy and his darkness into him.

  Come unto me.

  The boy’s form dissipated into a black cloud, leaving behind the great darkness that hungered for living things. Paine inhaled his presence. His nose bled as the entity once known as Nahash swept into him and encased his soul. Its presence was not what he expected, barely noticeable. And with its insipid invasion came knowledge, old and deep. Paine nodded his head, understanding Dark Wind’s intent.

  And he smiled. All was clear now.

  A sudden shadow enveloped him, something foreign to Dark Wind’s shadow. It slunk over Paine. He knew it instantly, a being that had been trapped for seventeen years. And Paine knew what Nahash had done to the man.

  Paine got to his knees and Dïor’s voice spoke to him.

  “You saved my daughter, whelp as
well as the woman who holds my Sephirah’s soul. For that I will honor her request to give you what you need.”

  Paine buried his own thoughts, masking them from the Firstborn’s probing.

  This was easier than I thought.

  Dïor cast a spell that unlocked something in Paine, and with it there was the knowledge he required.

  The man departed, leaving him there.

  From the corner of his eye, he sensed someone reaching towards him. He knew that hand before he could even see it. Nahash had given him gifts beyond comprehension, things that the voices and the images in the mirror had promised years ago. And now those gifts were palpable, and they were his.

  He faked a clumsy rising and waited for Diarmuid to reach him. There was a hole in the man’s arm, similar to the black-robed man.

  Gregor stood with him. The old man smiled, Elenya's Soul in his hand. Paine sucked in his breath. He knew that thing and its blasted intent. He masked his fear behind doe-like eyes.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I will take care of this mess I helped create and stop Dark Wind before it gets any further. Your mother would be proud of you.”

  Paine offered a shy smile.

  Perhaps I will ask her.

  Dïor materialized beside Gregor. The two gave Paine one last look before striding further into what remained of Dark Wind’s shadow. It still clouded the land, siphoning off all living things.