Minstra interrupted her. “But I’m not—”
“You will both stay with us,” she insisted. “It is not any safer anywhere else and the spies of Grinden are everywhere.” She held Minstra’s gaze sternly.
Finally, he nodded his acquiescence and smiled lopsidedly. “You remind me of…” he trailed off.
Shinna raised an eyebrow. “Well? Spit it out.”
“You remind me of my mother,” he laughed nervously.
She smiled and felt every bit of it was sincere.
***
Dri’Bu continued quite candidly, even if the elf’s story didn’t cast him in the most positive light. “Since the beginning, and for many millennia, I too was haughty and greedy and I was lustful. I was especially prideful and chased knowledge. I sought to learn as much as I could, searching out power through knowledge. I grew in influence; I grew in intellect, but everything began to seem only more futile as the years passed.
“Nearly a thousand years ago I had an epiphany. I found that nothing satisfied my lust for knowledge, and while that knowledge was good, it was still an empty realization. I also discovered that truth changes over time as new authorities come in and out of power. I realized that so much of the ‘truth’ I’d known contradicted itself. Trying to make sense of it all, I have been cataloguing histories in my mind for centuries, now—I used to maintain the realm’s largest library until it was sacked by Screepans. Ultimately, knowledge is futile because one cannot know everything and new lies are invented daily. It is an impossible task.
“Still, I attempted the impossible and then I heard of this new knowledge claimed as the Ultimate Truth by this man,” Dri’Bu indicated Kevin, “I had to come and hear what he said.
“I only know that I’ve studied for six thousand years only to find out that nothing makes any sense. But when I reason on what you have spoken about, Kevin, it all comes together. I must tell you that this is the only thing that stands to reason. I can see which of these histories are false and which things are true. I have discovered God, Yahweh, in my mind and He is the only thing that can embody Truth. It fits both my mind and also my experiences; I can even remember Lucifer, I remember being created by him and instructed by him. I did not know it then, but when I look at him through the context of Christianity, I can understand that he is evil; a clever and manipulative liar—nothing at all what the Luciferians claim him to be. Your faith is the only possibly true conclusion a reasoning mind can arrive at when looking at all available knowledge with true objectivity.
“Realizing that mankind has the only real truth, I recognize that I am lost. I believe that your words are inerrant and your God is who He says He is. But I, a soulless being made by His enemy, could be beyond hope. I have one request, based on the character of this God whom you serve. If your God is truly compassionate, could he craft for me a soul as he did for mankind in the beginning? Is He willing to breathe into me an everlasting spirit?” The elf’s eyes were full of emotion, the desire to truly live.
Rashnir raised an eyebrow. The elf’s grasp of theology was impeccable. “How do you know so much about our God in such a short time?”
Dri’Bu nodded towards the distant wood. “I’ve been listening for quite some time, now.”
Still, Rashnir looked skeptical.
“I have very good hearing,” the elf stated deadpan and wiggled his ears twice to beguile the seriousness of his tone.
“I believe that He is capable of doing this,” Dri’Bu continued. “He must be if He is all-powerful. My faith is not the same as yours; you believe in Him with the very essence of your being, your soul latches onto this belief with both mind and spirit. I am limited in this regard, but I believe with the same type of faith as I would in something as absolute as mathematics. I know that two and two make four; this is just as true as your God.”
Kevin nodded and briefly consulted with Jorge and Kyrius. The two angels nodded their assent and agreed that the elf should join them as they tried to exit Lucifer’s creation. If they arrived safely, Dri’Bu could ask the Lord to examine him and decide to grant or deny his request.
In the meantime, they would permit him to stay with the Christians. The physical makeup of the elven and angelic races seemed similar in nature. They were more physically gifted than man, possessing enhanced bodies and abilities. They were immune to aging and disease and many poisons. The elven race seemed like it was crafted as an imitation of the angelic line. It was another twisted version that Lucifer created in his vain attempts to exceed the glory of God’s creation. But absent of soul in this realm, both races were wary of death.
While the elf was ekthro, and his skin susceptible to the destructive powers of the Logos sword, Kevin allowed Dri’Bu to read through his worn and marked Bible. Kevin clutched the sacred book everywhere and Dri’Bu was grateful for access to the scriptures so that he could study for himself.
Over the next several days, the camp underwent preparations to divide and split for the large-scale exodus from Grinden. Leaders mapped out travel routes, families prepared wagons and animals. Within the next several days, perhaps a week, the Christians planned to disperse and depart as missionaries sent on assignments to reach this lost land and search out the lost tribe. Prayer under-girded everything.
Dri’Bu’s vast knowledge helped shed light on many issues and he was an excellent strategist. He told Kevin about a type of carrier falcon that many elven regions used to send messages to each other.
Promising to acquire as many of these birds as he could, the elf departed into the northwest and hoped to return as soon as possible. Once back, the Christians could use them to keep in contact while on their individual missions. Dri’Bu wasted no time on pleasantries before departing and knew he could make his best speed alone. Like the angels, he didn’t require much rest and could travel all night.
He pulled Kevin aside before he left and set a date and time. “If I fail to return by then, someone has claimed my ears and a lock of my hair.” He clapped the preacher arm in arm in a traditional elven greeting. “Until we meet again.”
***
Absinthium brooded in the spacious quarters he’d been appointed above the Grinden temple. The information just received disturbed him greatly. Spies and scouts reported that the krist-chin group had increased their numbers again dramatically in just one night. Twice now they’d multiplied in such a manner.
He frowned and fidgeted as he mulled over what to do. The arch-mage had been stalling, awaiting the physical arrival of his dark lord, as instructed. Absinthium had been ordered to squelch the growth of the group and thwart their every move, but he could not contain this threat as adequately as he felt he should. beh’-tsah waited for the perfect time to descend from Paradise and deal with the situation, but he’d not yet arrived or sent further instruction. Absinthium felt a grave need to contact his master and apprise him of the escalating situation.
His most worthy acolytes had been hard at work in Grinden. Prock and Wynn were in charge of mass-producing the weapon potion. They had pressed all local apothecaries into service for their needs and overseen the work. The acolytes micromanaged them only until they were confident that there would be no errors in the final product. Once he was sure that their production was flawless, they imported slaves through grr’SHaalg’s underground trade routes and put them into the service of the local alchemists. The apothecaries micromanaged the slaves who were responsible for producing large quantities of the magical solution and then shuttling it through the goblin’s networks to establish a supply in case this infectious belief popped up anywhere else. The folk of Grinden didn’t mind slaves—they were too far from the threat of the western border to find the trade abhorrent.
The acolytes had also inspired confidence among the residents of Grinden. Prock had publicly executed one of the krist-chin leaders in the sight of all and proven the worth of the magical serum.
Wynn had taken charge of managing the production operations and remained o
n hand in case Dyule required any clarification or assistance. The inept son of Rogis likely couldn’t tell the difference between the Caisson Master and the Wyvern Rider, but that mattered very little.
Keeping an acolyte immediately on hand was a good idea. Wynn did not have quite the pedigree that Prock did, but he was more than capable. Wynn was ever on edge, hungry and ready for violence. The Caisson Master would not let the men and women of Grinden fail their pledges to the Order.
Wynn stayed and Prock was sent elsewhere. Several specific reagents were still needed to complete the binding spells and the release of the Dragon Impervious. The former was no small feat, although the latter would call for only a mundane act of spell craft.
Absinthium mentally retreated from his plots and schemes involving his chosen ones. He prepared for the incantation that he intended to cast and cleared his mind. It was a common spell which could bridge the gap between him and his master, allowing them to communicate. beh’-tsah needed information about the multiplying insurgents. If the demon did not come and strike soon, these rebels might grow beyond wild expectations. Absinthium already found his tasks difficult enough.
The mage hoped to incite hatred amongst the people toward the intruding religion, then to make the loyal masses demand its total destruction and become willing participants. So far, everything had come together as planned. Soon, the time would be right and they could unleash all of the armies, mustering even now. beh’-tsah would accompany them to annihilate the invaders. The mage’s gut tightened; if the dark lord tarried any longer they would need more troops to succeed as planned. They would need a larger noose if the krist-chins continued spreading like the creep-rot vines of Jeena.
Lighting his candles and reciting the proper words exactly, Absinthium stepped into a circle of white sand he’d placed onto the floor. With a sudden whoosh it glowed around him and a flame-like light shone upwards from around his feet fully immolating his body. The pain was intense, but the mage managed; he’d grown accustomed to this kind of transmission.
A spiritual kind of portal opened between the locations. Absinthium’s words and form were relayed to his master’s chambers in Paradise where dancing flames flickered before beh’-tsah’s throne and mimicked the arch-mage’s body. Absinthium explained the situation to his lord, feeding him every nuance and detail.
Although the mage could not see the demon, he could hear the low growling of his master. He continued with the report, elucidating the specific actions he’d taken to prevent the krist-chins’ evangelism within the city and clustering them beyond the border as if under quarantine. Despite that their numbers still continued to increase.
“Master, I fear that if you do not come to break this threat soon it will become increasingly difficult to completely eradicate this cult. Their continued presence could boil over into a situation we can no longer control at the human level. I have foreseen a potential need for an extreme response and so I have dispatched the Wyvern Rider and properly equipped him to free the Dragon Impervious and take it as his mount.”
Responding to the inquisitive growl of his lord, Absinthium explained his plan and the detailed the magics that would make it so.
The demon lord grinned deviously, clearly liking the idea. “You are right, loyal one. If they continue to grow like this, with the powers that they wield, they could become a match for even the combined forces of Paradise. Unfortunately, I have been delayed again with open rebellion.” The demon spat obscenities, interlaced with the names of demons in revolt.
“The coup that has formed against me is both within the Gathering and from outside. It is different from what I’d expected. I baited the rebellion out, but they had already set attacks in motion and so both our forces were caught unawares. They are more powerful than expected; the rebels have overtly allied themselves with enemies who I denied seats on the Gathering long ago.
“There is no imminent danger to my throne. These usurpers are like biting insects which must be dealt with and I will cause my opponents bodily affliction the likes that they have never before imagined. Their political maneuverings will only guarantee their own destruction, but it delays my plans to deal with this important threat, though it may speed up other aspects of the grand plan for ascension.” beh’-tsah referred to his scheme to crown himself Lucifer. It would happen more easily by dethroning his enemies within the Gathering.
“Then what is our course of action?” Absinthium requested.
“You must destroy them. Take the armies that have gathered and fulfill this task. You must go in my stead while I continue the war that now rages in Paradise. The most important task has fallen to you, Prophet of mine. I will win this battle in Paradise, but you must stop this blight upon our lands.”
Absinthium nodded. “It will be done.” The demon’s command was what Absinthium had hoped for and he felt more than capable of fulfilling the task with the tools available to him. He was confident that the battle would be victorious in both realms.
“My power should be evident on the battlefield. The war below is the more important one; when the time for your battle comes, you will channel my spirit and command my power.”
The demon shared his plan for the battle of Grinden and outlined a strategy for the war beginning with what actions should immediately follow their conversation. There were no possible paths to victory or escape by the krist-chins.
The demon reiterated, “This victory must be complete and total. Give no quarter and no mercy. There can be no error; do not underestimate the powers that these krist-chins can access.”
***
Rashnir was alone, armed with a crossbow and satchel of bolts. He had gone into the woods to hunt for the next couple meals. He picked a few berries and herbs as he went, but he kept an eye out for sign of rabbits, squirrels, gulons, or other small game. Truthfully, he was only a little hungry; he was more interested in target practice. If he were really hungry, he was sure that Kyrius’ cooking talents could even make stones taste delicious.
He crept through the woods, listening intently for the sounds of prey. The undergrowth brimmed with the chattering of animals and the rustling of birds. Insects called to each other. Rashnir stepped lightly, rolling the balls of his feet to the ground softly, maintaining stealth.
A twig napped and leaves rustled. The hunter’s ears perked up; he turned quickly and quietly only taking halting breaths. There was something nearby, and it was larger game than he anticipated finding this close to the borders of the encampment. The everyday noises of the Christian settlement should have warded off any larger creatures that lived nearby.
Rashnir leveled his weapon at the bushes from where the noises came. There was always the possibility that any unknown creature was dangerous. If it was an animal that was not spooked away by the noises of the settlement, then there was a good chance that it was predatory. Perhaps it hoped to catch a human for its next meal?
He focused on the bush. He crept ahead slowly. In that moment, nothing else existed but Rashnir, the bush, and the unknown beast.
Then, he felt a sharp thump! on the back of his calf muscle. He almost fell over, giving a surprised yelp as familiar laughter came from the heavy limbs of the thick forest canopy.
Jaker dropped down from the bough he had been stalking Rashnir from. He tossed a bundle of fist-sized nuts over his shoulder.
Rashnir’s look of shock gave way to understanding as his acquaintance stood over him, laughing to himself as he spotted a thin string tied to the shrubbery and rubbed the nut-sized bruise on his leg. Jaker had always been the better scout, and a practical joker, too.
“What brings you into the forest, Jaker?”
“I came to find you. But I bring you ill tidings, I am afraid.” Jaker extended a hand and greeted the butt of his joke with a show of good nature. Many previous meetings had ended under bad terms; up until recently Jaker had hounded the fallen ranger at any positive turn and returned him to the gutters.
“What is your news?”
“Things are getting serious within the city, Rashnir. By all indications, I would say that there is going to be a full-scale assault on your growing band of heretics. There’s been incredible pressure on every sect of the mercenary guild. I fear that the entire guild could actually be merged into the Jand Royal Military. It’s not just the military that is coming after you though, there are others too: it’s some kind of grand unified effort.
“The Luciferians are pretty bent on destroying you. In fact, if you asked me, I think that they might have manipulated this whole thing from the beginning. Rutheir is obviously a puppet of the Order to be so keen on your destruction, or else he really hates you. Plus it makes sense that he could owe them favors if they helped him take the throne to begin with.
“Anyway, the church has got people whipped into a frenzy in town. That priest, Frinnig, has people ready to raid your settlement after every sermon. Dyule has formed a local militia under the banner of protecting the city from ‘krist-chin threats.’ The townsfolk are practically begging him to form a posse and begin raids.”
“We have been expecting that something like this would come. It’s nothing that we can’t handle,” Rashnir said with a grin, firmly assured of his eternal destiny, if nothing else.
“There is more to it,” Jaker went on. “These guys, the Acolytes, they’re downright creepy. They’re an elite group of Luciferian combat guards and they give me chills. I don’t know how many of them there are, but there are several; they all look alike to me... bad magic in them. They have the local chemists and apothecaries under the control of their leader. Some guy they called the ‘Wyvern-Rider,’ but I think that might’ve changed, since. They’re cookin’ up this magic potion that they put on their weapons, makes em’ so your guys’ blades can’t cut through them so easily and they’re mass-producing this stuff. The city streets are lined with carts full of jars and jugs of the stuff. They’ve made enough to supply an army; that’s what makes me figure they’re going to attack—and soon.”
The Kakos Realm Collection Page 46