“What about not alerting mages?”
“Too late for that now. We need to put as much distance between Tapu and us as fast as we can.”
Behind them, excited exclamations arose from his new apprentices.
“You think that’s something,” Potbelly began. “You should have been there the time he brought down the walls of Korazan.”
“Korazan,” Scar scoffed. “That was nothing. How about the time he raised a storm and stripped the flesh from an entire army?”
With a constant stream of his exploits following, James nudged his horse out onto the shimmering field. The horse was skittish with the rush of the water just below. In places where the water ran roughest, white crests crashed against the underside. Not only were the horses unnerved, but so too were most of the humans riding them. It wasn’t an easy feat to ride nonchalantly across water that should the field fail, meant their deaths.
Once on the far side, James waited until the last rider cleared the bank before banishing the shimmering, magical bridge. Azhan and Hikai looked at him in new wonder. Whispered exchanges passed between them in rapid succession.
Miko’s amusement at his discomfort irritated James. The last thing he needed right now were two young mages hanging around. Some of the things he could do were best left unknown to the world at large.
“Scar, take the lead with Potbelly.”
As the duo moved forward, James turned to Miko. “Have your priests watch my two, uh, apprentices.”
“As you wish.”
James turned his horse as Scar led them from the riverbank and headed toward the road running alongside. Once before they had followed this road in their search of Miko when he had been taken as a slave. The world had changed much since then. He had changed much as well. It scared him at times, the power he could command. Too many times throughout history men had wielded such power, maybe not magical, but great power nonetheless and very few had avoided its evil temptations. Will he be strong enough to remain true to his heart and soul? He hoped he would.
Far to the east, from atop a ridge three men gazed down into a desolate valley. Darkness deeper than the night obscured what lay below. So palpable was the evil rising from the depths that it made their skin crawl.
Two armed men, each bearing twin long swords stood to either side of a man dressed in plain leathers.
“This is the last,” Leathers said.
“It won’t be easy,” said the man on his right.
“It is our mandate.”
Leathers steeled himself, for he knew full well that what waited below was powerful indeed. Within that darkness they would find the bastion of the High Priest of T’Lea, as well as the remainder of the god’s priests. He sensed their presence was known and that the dark god’s source of power on this world lay somewhere below. The Heart of Darkness, a misshapen mass of black stone beat with power most evil. Destroy that, and never again would T’Lea bring misery to this world.
The moon was on the rise and to the east, the sky slowly brightened with the coming dawn. Turning his back on the valley, he led the two swordsmen to an area some two hundred yards away where they waited for the first rays of dawn to shine over the horizon.
Brighter and brighter grew the sky. When the first ray struck the face of the man in leather, he said, “Let us begin.”
From one of five packhorses, the swordsmen removed four ivory poles inscribed with intricate patterns of symbols. Each stretched four feet in length. They took them and drove them into the ground to form the corners of a square, six feet by six.
Leathers motioned them back and moved to the far side of the square so it sat between him and the valley. He then produced a pair of ivory wands, each identical to the larger quartet in the ground, though only a foot in length. Holding them upright, he summoned the power of his god.
“Gyomias, Lord of this world, lend us, your servants, power to purge the evil that lies before us.” Light erupted from the wands.
A broiling of the darkness within the valley drew the swordsmen’ attention. Drawing their long swords, they interposed themselves between the evil and the man in leathers.
Power, both good and wonderful filled the man in leathers. The wands shone ever brighter as more and more power filled them.
A dark shape emerged from the dark depths of the valley. Man-shaped yet horribly disfigured, it left a trail of faint, dark mist in its passing. Sores covered its body and the eyes were darker than obsidian. Though it loped as if maimed or in great pain, it covered distance rapidly. Another emerged after it, then another.
One swordsman glanced to the other, “Aega’s.”
Never taking his eyes from the minions of T’Lea, the other nodded.
Aega’s were created from the darkest souls that had been delivered into T’Lea’s realm. Only those who never performed an act of good, who had dedicated their lives to the basest and most evil atrocities were said to be granted such an exalted position. These were not beings from this world.
“They must not interfere,” Leathers announced.
“Fear not, my lord.”
Power suffusing the wands flowed to the nearest ivory pole. When it hit, light flared and then continued on to the others until the area within was ringed by a nimbus of bright light. Magic passing to the poles increased in ever greater amounts until they outshone the rising sun.
The swordsmen braced for the Aega’s’ attack. As the first came near, the power of Gyomias suffused their swords. The air darkened before them as the Aega’s exuded a dark miasma. The holy light radiating from the swords pushed back the darkness. The swordsman on the right stepped forward. His sword descended toward the attacking creature and light exploded. A shock backlashed up his arm at the impact and caused him to stumble backward. The Aega’s screamed, fell hissing and steaming to the ground. Writhing but a moment, it soon grew still. Recovering quickly, the swordsman moved back into position as he and his partner awaited the attack of the next.
Behind them, the light coming from the poles took on a golden hue. Leathers spoke a word of power and the ground rumbled and heaved. The area encompassed by the glowing boundary collapsed inward and light shot forth like a geyser.
“The Way is open!”
Moments after the eruption shot forth, nodules of light began coalescing. Each only half the size of the human that had opened the
Way, they quickly solidified and unfolded gossamer wings as they left the stream of light and took flight. Though indistinct at first, they quickly transformed into small, winged bear cubs with eyes of gold and fur of silver. They were Gyomar, servants of the god Gyomias.
The second and third Aega’s were dealt with quickly, yet more boiled forth from the dark recesses of the valley. Their evil hit the swordsmen like a wave of filth. Beneath such an onslaught, the holy light from their swords began to dim.
Three of the fell minions came at them in a rush. Four swords wove a wave of light that threw them back and sent their dark souls to their god. Yet more rushed forward.
Behind them, Leathers kept the stream open and more Gyomar passed through. The first to enter this realm saw the two swordsmen and the peril they faced. Soaring high into the air, it opened its wings fully and caught the light of the morning sun. It drew the rays into itself; its body glowed with the combined power of the sun and the god Gyomias. For a second it rivaled the brilliance of the sun, then a beam of light shot downward from it and struck an Aega’s that had closed with the swordsmen.
The light shattered the dark miasma encompassing the fell creature and severed its connection to T’Lea. When the beam ended, the creature was no more. As the Gyomar once again gathered power to it, another of its brethren came full into this world. It too glowed with power as its wings unfurled; a stream of power later and another Aega’s fell.
With the aid of an ever increasing circle of Gyomar in the sky, the two swordsmen were able to hold their own. Beams of holy power from above eradicated the unholy minions of T’Lea and
soon, none were even able to close with the swordsmen.
“Attend me.”
They turned at Leather’s command, sheathed their swords and moved to stand to either side of him.
“This cannot be held open much longer,” he said.
Dozens of their god’s holy servants held positions in the sky above. More still rode the light shining through the Way. Beams of holy righteousness continued to rain upon the enemy as they sought to reach Leathers. So quickly were they being destroyed, that few made it more than a dozen yards from the lip of the valley.
“Doesn’t look as if we’ll need many more.”
Leathers shook his head. “We will need all the Gyomar we can get.” He glanced across to the valley. “This is far from over. Draw your swords gentlemen.”
Four blades flew from scabbards. Holy light flickered along their lengths as they added their power to that of Leathers. A score more Gyomar passed through before the Way faltered.
Leathers felt the gate between worlds imploding upon itself. Altering the outflow of magic, he created a barrier that fully encompassed the four poles and the glowing area within. No sooner had it formed, than the nearest pole shattered. A backlash of power obliterated the remaining three and raw power sought to smash through the barrier and consume those foolhardy enough to be in the way.
But the barrier held. Commanding the power of his god, Leathers contained the explosion, dissipated the magic, and closed the Way. Once satisfied that all was as it should be, he released the magic. He leaned against the swordsman to his right and wiped his brow.
“Milord?”
Giving the swordsman a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he smiled. “Such a feat is not easy.”
“Indeed,” replied the other swordsman.
Beams of light grew infrequent as the stream of Aega’s dwindled then dried up altogether.
“Come. Our work here is not over.”
Leading the two swordsmen, Leathers walked through the shattered remains of the poles and crossed to the edge of the valley.
Malevolence radiated outward like heat rising from a scalding desert. Somewhere within that Stygian darkness lay T’Lea’s high priest and the last of his followers.
A blast of pure hatred and evil erupted from below. Holy light enveloped Leathers and the two swordsmen. The attack struck and the power of Gyomias prevailed.
In the sky above, Gyomar moved to form a ring encompassing the valley. Leathers waited until the valley had been fully encircled before raising his hands.
“Gyomias,” he intoned, “your servant calls upon your aid to rid this world of a festering malignancy. Lend us your power so that good may prevail over evil and the world made a better place.”
Power suffused him and he reveled in holy ecstasy.
“Now, my Gyomar.”
As a massive surge flowed from him into the valley, beams of holy light descended from each Gyomar in the sky to rain righteous might upon the darkness protecting those below.
Roiling like a sea in a hurricane, the darkness recoiled from the light of the Gyomar. Fell magic reinforced the strength of the dark shroud. Dark magic rode waves of malevolence on their way to the Gyomar in the sky above,
One cried out as the evil god’s power ended its place in this world. The rest of the Gyomar shifted position to maintain a concentric circular presence surrounding the valley.
While the Gyomar sought to destroy the darkness, Leathers worked to penetrate the dark and seek out the source far below; but the evil shroud of darkness barred his way.
Another Gyomar fell to the fell magic. Then another; but the dark shroud shielding the valley had weakened. Ten more Gyomar fell before the darkness shattered. For the first time since T’Lea came to this world, the valley knew the warmth of sunlight. What was revealed caused Leathers great sadness. For where the sunlight struck the valley floor, bones from an untold number of victims were revealed.
Most laid ignobly upon the ground, looking to have been just tossed without thought or care after the priests had no more use for them. Some were displayed in horrific caricatures; human bones set and fused together to form monstrous shapes of hellish beasts. One such could be seen rising above the others and constructed of nothing but skulls.
Leathers heard the swordsman to his right say a prayer to Gyomias. “Indeed,” he whispered before adding his own prayers for those whose lives were warped and destroyed by such an evil.
The Gyomar remained in the sky above as the trio made their way down from the valley’s lip. Far below at the lowest point sat a temple made of darkest stone. Rising over a hundred feet and spanning a full acre, the edifice had but one window set in the middle of the front over the only entrance visible. Wide enough to accommodate three men walking abreast, the opening was rough-hewn and a faint dark glow pulsated from within. Dark malevolence surged outward with each pulsation of the dark light.
They remained silent as they worked their way through a landscape born of hellish nightmares. Cracked ground, stunted trees, indistinct shadows where no shadow had a right to be, and permeating it all…fear.
It oozed from the ground. With every step it sought to overthrow their courage but to no avail. The power of Gyomias ran too strongly in them for the fear to take root and flourish.
The bones filling the valley gave testament from where the fear came. Torture and pain were the twin pleasures of T’Lea’s priests. The suffering of their victims was ambrosia to them. Untold millennia of torture had left its residue within the very rocks. Instead of filling Leathers with dread, however, each step stiffened his resolve to see that T’Lea hurts no one ever again.
As they drew closer to the building, dark light riding a wave of terror shot through the opening.
Radiant aura met the dark tide as Leathers called forth the power of Gyomias. His stride faltered not. Righteous might overcame the evil and cast it back within the temple.
Less than two-score feet from the temple, Leathers paused to calm his mind and allow Gyomias to fill his thoughts. Within was evil unspeakable and he would need all Gyomias’ holy might to overthrow what lay within.
Shapes, darker than night, moved deep within the opening.
“Torments.”
Leather’s sighed, then nodded sadly. He had hoped not to encounter any, but known such was unlikely. Each represented unspeakable acts upon so very many innocent lives; lives that could have known love, joy and happiness. Instead…this.
Torments came into being from a combination of dark magics and the tortured death of a hundred souls. The creation of one took the industry of vile priests performing acts of fear and torture upon their victims. Each soul had to be wrenched from its host, twisted and defiled, then torn asunder to be incorporated into the newly forming Torment. Their touch withered flesh; their cries drove men insane. Unable to survive contact with the sun they skulked in the dark places of the world.
Moving forward, Leathers summoned the power of Gyomias.
Three Gyomar lit upon the ground between the humans and the dark opening. Arraying themselves in an arc before the entrance, they unfurled their wings so that the tip of one touched that of its neighbor. Silver fur shone in the morning sun.
Leathers let loose the magic while at the same time, rays of brilliance shot down from dozens of Gyomar circling overhead. Magic met brilliance and the three Gyomar let loose a massive growl.
Light of magnificent holy might shot forward and slammed into the dark maw of T’Lea’s temple. The darkness within sought to bar the light from intruding into its domain, but the power of Gyomias was not to be denied. Light won out and penetrated the length of the tunnel. Torments were shattered, their twisted essence could not withstand the power of Gyomias.
Less than ten seconds had the light lasted, yet that had been sufficient to see the end of every Torment gathered to keep Leathers out. When the light vanished, the passage was clear.
“Let us finish this.”
Stepping forward, Leathers moved to ente
r the last bastion of T’Lea on this world.
The trio of Gyomar parted as he and the swordsmen passed, then fell in behind and followed.
Skeletal remains had been incorporated within the construction of the walls. Skulls watched as the humans pressed forward into the dark, hellish domain.
Running straight for a short duration, the passage came to a junction. Leathers paused as he considered whether to continue straight, take the right-hand passage, or the steps leading down to the left. Feeling the greatest concentration of evil coming from below, he turned left and descended. A Gyomar remained at the top of the steps.
The steps circled to the left and made four full revolutions before ending at a small room. They were greeted by a score of small, creatures. Diminutive and twisted parodies of humans, they radiated pure malevolence as they attacked.
Magic blasted half before they could take their second steps. Leathers’ two swordsmen stepped forward and their four blades wove a tapestry of destruction that readily overcame the rest.
“Not as difficult as I expected,” one swordsman stated.
Leathers shook his head. “Not yet, no. The real test will be when we reach the High Priest.” Deep in the bowels of this place, he could feel the Heart of Darkness beating. Quenching its life would be no simple thing.
The room held two sacrificial tables, each stained a red so deep, only the death of countless victims could account for it. One end of each table tapered toward a funnel that fed into a black urn. Thankfully, both urns proved to be empty.
A single stone door barred their way to the deeper reaches. Leathers gestured toward it with a nod of his head and a swordsman crossed to it. Taking hold of the ring, he pulled and the door opened on well-oiled hinges.
It swung open much quicker than expected. Darkness rolled forth and taloned hands reached for the swordsman.
He leapt backward as light erupted from the two Gyomar. Shrieks sounded beyond the doorway. His comrade hewed a hand from a twisted arm.
“Open it!” shouted Leathers.
The second swordsman pulled the door wide and a score of Torments recoiled from the Gyomar’s light.
Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two Page 29