Demon Lord IV - Lord of Shadows

by T C Southwell

  The illusions faded, and her eyes widened, filling with terror as she gazed upon the unmistakeable countenance of a dark god.

  "You! But..."

  "Yes, me. It seems that Vorkon neglected to tell you about my odd little quirks. Such as... I am mortal."

  "No. He warned me."

  Bane nodded. "But you did not expect me to come here without my power. Unthinkable for one such as you, who are made of it."

  Jishka struggled, but his hands tightened, sank into her flesh and made her gasp. Her droge form felt pain, just as it enjoyed pleasure, otherwise it would have been useless to her.

  "Please," she begged, "spare me. I am no threat to you; there is no need to destroy me. I am a pawn of the dark power, its victim!"

  "Perhaps you are, and I know you are no threat to me, but you are to Drayshina and the people of this domain."

  "I will do no harm, I swear. Do not cast me down. Vorkon will torment me for all eternity."

  "For failing to free him?"

  She nodded. "I will stay here in this city. I shall never leave it, I swear."

  "Until I leave this domain."

  "No, never, I swear it!"

  "But you will capture hapless travellers, and perform your disgusting rituals upon them, damning them."

  Her hair swirled around her head as she shook it. "No! Never again."

  "So you will be a good little dark goddess, and harm no one."

  "Yes!"

  Syrin paced up and down the Channel, watching the confrontation with growing anxiety. Bane had not Gathered the dark power to protect himself, he remained vulnerable to attack. His hands slid up to clasp Jishka's throat, and she gazed up at him with wide eyes, her expression fearful and pleading. Still she tried to use her charms to sway him, striving to appear helpless and humble, knowing that she was in great danger. Bane gazed deep into her eyes, as if considering her plea, then shook his head.

  "You are a liar."

  Jishka's face twisted with hatred and rage, and her eyes filled with murderous intent. Another dagger appeared in her fist, and she thrust it at his ribs. Bane knocked the weapon aside with a swift, chopping motion that would have broken a normal woman's arm. Her pseudo flesh bent, and the dagger clattered across the floor. Her nails sprouted into razor-sharp claws, and she raked one set across his shoulder, raising the other towards his eyes. Bane's hand flashed up to grip her wrist, foiling her attempt to scratch out his eyes, and she struggled.

  "Guards!" she shrieked.

  Bane grabbed her other wrist, and the runes on his chest flared to yellow. Jishka's form warped as he drew off the dark power that sustained it, and she sucked in shadows, striving to maintain it. Her hair became flickering darkness, then returned to shining redness as she restored it, her face mottling and smearing. Bane's Gather sucked the dark power from her so fast that her droge form melted away after only a few more moments, and she became a shadowy figure with yellow eyes and a red maw.

  Fire demons flared from the torches and earth demons rose from black circles on the floor to attack Bane. Two fire demons and two earth demons tried to protect him. An air demon attacked from above, engulfed a fire demon and started to smother it. The chains on Bane's ankles fell away as he directed a little power into them, and he pushed Jishka off the bed, then rose to stand before her. The power he drew from her formed conduits of shadow, and the air screamed with the raw, wild power that swirled around them.

  Bane glanced around as a bevy of droges, armed with spears and crossbows, burst into the room. Black shields shot up all around him, blocked their attack and trapped Jishka within them. An earth demon rose inside the shields, and Bane released one of Jishka's wrists to destroy it with a flick of his hand, blocking her when she conjured another dagger and tried to stab him in the neck.

  Jishka shrieked as her form twisted and shrank. The ground beneath her glowed as she ran out of free flowing power and drew it from below. As long as he held her, she could not Move without taking him with her, and Moving both of them would be pointless. Bane channelled much of the power that he drew from her into the shields, making them thicker and blacker, impenetrable.

  Jishka wailed and fell to her knees. "Spare me, please! Do not destroy me!"

  The Demon Lord gazed down at her, his eyes pits of blackness, his brows drawn together in a deep frown. His hair bristled with the raw energy that swirled around them, and his lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer.

  "Begging sickens me, Jishka." His voice was cold and dead.

  Jishka screamed with rage as she dwindled, her form becoming transparent, exposing her soul's red glow. The demons pounded on Bane's shields in a futile bid to save her, growling curses. Jishka's form became tenuous, and his hands sank through her wrists, losing their grip on her. He spread them, Gathering her remaining shadows as she wailed and howled, her cries becoming torn and faint as she dwindled.

  Bane took control of the last dregs of power that clothed her, holding her soul in a mighty fist and denying it flight. The red light pulsed and began to expand as it neared destruction, and Bane paused, holding her at his mercy. The pulsing redness swirled, shedding sparks, dwindling slowly. He closed his hands and let his arms drop. Jishka's soul shot downwards in a fiery flash, vanishing through the floor.

  Bane stared at the floor, then raised his head and let the shields wink out of existence. The demons retreated, sinking into the floor or back into the torches, all save three, who bowed to him. He raked them with a cold glance, then waved his hand at them.

  "Begone."

  The remaining earth demon slumped into a pile of foul soil, and the two fire demons winked out with an inrush of air, leaving a bad smell. Shadows drifted from Bane's fingers as he turned and walked to the door. Droges scurried away or fell to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the floor in a desperate bid to save themselves. He waved his hand at them and spoke harsh words, rescinding their forms and sending them below. The demons that did not go below of their own accord, he banished.

  As he emerged from the corridor that led to Jishka's chambers, the crowd of humans gaped at him, then prostrated themselves and cried his name. Scantily clad women ran forward to try to kiss his boots, but he thrust them away, making them cower and whimper. These people, like those in the Overworld, made themselves ugly with tattoos and mutilations. They disgusted him, and he strode through them without acknowledging their cries of worship.

  Bane stopped beside the throne and turned to face Vorkon's tall temple behind the palace. The Source's ruddy glow lighted its narrow windows, and the gold streaks gleamed in the dull light. Syrin followed him in a Channel, taking up position above and behind him, where she could scan the crowd for signs of treachery. The Demon Lord stretched his hands towards the Source and began the slow, graceful finger movements that accompanied the words that commanded the earth.

  The crowd watched him in silent fascination, unaware of what he was doing. Everyone jumped when he made a vicious downward gesture and shouted a harsh word. The ground shivered, and a dull grating came from far below. Rocks creaked and groaned as a mighty stone portal rumbled shut. A dull boom reverberated through the deep caverns, and the red glow faded from the temple's windows as the Source closed.

  The crowd muttered as Bane turned to face them, unsure of what he planned to do to them. The Demon Lord used a trickle of shadow to write runes in the air, speaking their guttural names. As the last symbol was named, the dark power drifted from the sky in a shadow fall, brushing the people with chilling skeins as it sank to the earth. He repeated the sentence, and people cried out in dismay and fear as the shadows fell all around them, settling on the ground in a cold, sickening mist. Many were stricken with nausea as darkness gathered around their feet, others tried to flee its influence. Bane spoke the banishing a third time, and the power soaked into the soil, returning to its source.

  Five earth demons shot up around him in a rush of soil, their arms raised to strike, but a blast of black fire scattered them to du
st. Four fire demons manifested in the torches near the throne and flashed towards him, their eyes melting the stone in glowing lines. Bane directed a lash of power at them, and they vanished in bursts of foul fire. The priests near the throne flung themselves down as the flames swept over them, and the crowd surged back, fleeing the courtyard.

  Bane completed the final four sets of runes uninterrupted, and the last of the evil was sucked into the ground. By then, the courtyard was empty. Only the spluttering torches broke the silence, and the air was thick with the smell of burning meat from the abandoned carcasses on their spits. The detritus of Jishka's party littered the ground, bits of torn cloth, gaudy masks and discarded food, spilt wine and broken crockery. Bane surveyed it, looking tired, then swung away and vanished.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lord of Shadows

  Syrin turned to the wall of the Channel, found another running parallel that existed in the cell where Kayos waited, and pulled the two together, stepping through the doorway that she created into the Channel in Kayos' room. Kayos glanced up from his Eye as she appeared, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Syrin moved behind him to look into the Eye. In it, Bane stood in a rolling meadow just outside the city. He appeared to be deep in thought, gazing at the distant dead forests that the gentle rays of the rising sun that shone through the gaps in the thinning clouds gilded.

  The destruction of the Lightworld had been far worse than the Overworld, and, because of that, its return to normality would be slower, but less catastrophic. Vorkon had been corrupting it slowly, certain of his victory and revelling in its demise. The mountains had now ceased to spew ash and lava, and the soft rain had settled the ash, but the dead forests would have to grow afresh from seeds. The fire walls around the cities were gone now, and the people would survive on the food that they grew in those precious sanctuaries until the land had recovered.

  Sensing a benign presence behind him, Bane turned to find the goddess standing there, her hands folded in a formal pose, her midnight hair framing the pale beauty of her face. She smiled and walked closer.

  "Is it over?"

  He inclined his head. "Jishka has joined Vorkon below. All that remains is for the last three wards to be created."

  "Which is being done even as we speak."

  "Good."

  She looked down at her hands. "I have been foolish and rude to you, and now I must make amends."

  "I am used to it."

  "But you should not be. It is not right. Your soul is a beacon as bright as any light god's. It is only your power that distresses me, but that does not excuse my behaviour. Kayos is right, I owe you a debt of gratitude, and I intend to pay it. But first I must formally thank you for all that you have done."

  Bane shrugged. "That is not necessary. As I said before, flowery speeches bore me."

  "Then I shall make none. Actions speak far louder than words."

  Drayshina stepped forward and held out her hands. Bane glanced down at them, hesitated, then took them in a firm clasp, blue light igniting where they touched. She gazed up at him, her eyes roving his face.

  "Kayos is right, you are a miraculous being, My Lord. One so precious to we of the light that my insults do me a great disservice. You hate the power you wield, but when you use it to save innocents, it is a mighty weapon that you should be proud to wield. You are the Lord of Shadows. Do not hate yourself for what you are; it is what is in your heart that counts, not the evil that you bear. I apologise for any slight that I have given you, with all my heart."

  She smiled. "This is not a flowery speech, although you may mistake it for one. It is simply the purest truth, and my gift to you." She stood on tiptoes and stretched up to plant a feather light kiss on his cheek.

  "Thank you, My Lord. My domain is your home whenever you choose to honour it with your presence, and my people may worship you if they wish." Her eyes flicked to the deep, bloody scratches on his shoulder, visible through the ragged tears in his shirt. "You are hurt. May I help?"

  "No." Bane released her hands and stepped back. "Kayos can do it later."

  "Of course." She reached into the folds of her gown and drew out a shining sphere that fitted snugly into the palm of her hand. "A Key to my domain, as I promised."

  Bane held out his hand, and she placed it in his palm, where it lay like a brilliant pearl filled with endlessly shifting rainbow hues, exuding subtle warmth and a faint tingle of power.

  "I shall guard it well."

  "Thank you." She regarded him. "I go now to close the World Gate. Would you care to accompany me?"

  He looked up. "Yes. I have seen a World Gate between a dark realm and mid realm, but not one between mid realm and light."

  "It is quite different, I assure you. Your wound is not too bad?"

  "It is just a scratch."

  "Good."

  Drayshina folded her hands, and the meadow vanished. They stood upon a floor that looked like flat, pristine snow, thick mist surrounding them. Bane's breath steamed in white clouds as he glanced around. Becoming aware of a sickening drop behind him, he stepped away from it, then leant out to gaze into the depths. Far below, what appeared to be deep blue sea glistened with shifting sparkles and tiny, spume-capped waves.

  "It is the sea," Drayshina replied to his quizzical look. "This World Gate is inaccessible to any who do not have the power to reach it."

  The goddess turned and stepped into the mist, and Bane followed. After a few steps he became aware of a structure looming over him, then the mist cleared magically, and he stood before a pair of massive doors made of beaten gold. A nimbus of blue light surrounded him, testimony to the profusion of white power in the air. The Gates were unadorned, a simple expanse of flat gold that bore the imprints of a hammer. They stood open, and raw white fire flooded out in a misty river. At the bottom of each door were seven diamond-shaped openings. Drayshina walked up to the edge of one of the doors, where the gold was melted and blackened in a swirled, star-shaped pattern. She ran her fingers over the warped surface, a faint frown marring her smooth brow.

  "This Gate swings open to admit each good soul that flies here upon their demise, unlike those who go below. After the soul has entered, it closes again. Only a good soul may open it. When the Gate is closed and the wards are in place, it will strike down anything that is tainted by the dark power."

  "What happened here?" Bane gestured to the scorch marks.

  "When Vorkon corrupted my priestess she became his slave, unable to disobey him. Her soul was still inherently good, but not good enough to open the Gate, yet it could not strike her down. Vorkon had instructed her to open it, so she was forced to throw herself upon it. When she touched it, the taint of evil in her soul triggered the wards, but her goodness opened it. She was destroyed, so she did not enter, and therefore the Gate did not close and the wards did not reactivate."

  Drayshina stroked the damaged Gate as she spoke, and the scorch marks melted away under her fingers. When the damage had been repaired, she moved to the other Gate and did the same, smoothing away the marks that marred its dappled surface. While she worked, Bane studied the strange landscape within the Gate. It consisted of a cloud garden much like those that surrounded the gazebo where she dwelt, but just inside the Gate were two distinct paths made of sparkling white sand, like diamond dust, leading off into the mist. He walked closer, scrutinising the mist wall to which the Gate was attached, and found that it was webbed with shining filaments of white fire.

  Drayshina looked up from her task. "Someone comes."

  Bane glanced around to find two ghostly figures approaching from the left hand fork of the path. A woman and a man, holding hands, their faces serene. When they spotted Drayshina they waved, smiling, and she smiled back. Their smiles became a little hesitant when they glanced at Bane, and he did not return them. The two spirits stopped just within the Gate, and as they did so, a streak of white light shot up from below and stopped on the threshold.

  The point of blinding brilliance expa
nded and transformed into the ghostly form of a ten-year-old girl. The couple, whom Bane assumed were her parents, held out their arms to her, and the child walked through the Gate to embrace them. There was no grief in their greeting, no sadness at her premature demise, only a profound, serene joy. When the child had hugged her parents, she walked over to Drayshina and embraced her too, with no worship in her demeanour. The child returned to her parents and took their hands, walking between them down the left hand path.

  Drayshina gazed after them. "That path leads to the Forever City."

  "They no longer show you worship?"

  "When they die, they remember that they are part of me, and there is no need for worship. The living are not required to worship me, they have their own reasons for doing it. Faith is of course a different matter; they must have that, for it protects them from evil."

  Bane gazed at the spot where the spirits had vanished into the mist, wondering who would meet Mirra when she entered Eternity, if she chose not to accept his gift. Would her true mother await her, or Ellese? The prospect that she might not accept his gift still troubled him, although he tried not to dwell upon it. Surely she would. He raised a hand to his brow, and Drayshina cast him a concerned look, then turned her attention to the Gates once more. Stepping back, a move that brought her almost to Bane's side, she faced the Gates, and in doing so turned her back to him.

  Bane was surprised that her new found trust extended so far that she allowed herself to be so vulnerable. Drayshina raised her arms, spreading them wide, and spoke a few soft, lilting words, then brought her hands together slowly. The Gates shimmered, then swung closed with majestic torpor, their vast golden expanse flashing in the white power's brilliance. As their edges touched, a flash of light engulfed the joining, and a soft chime rang out. The torrent of white power was reduced to a steady flow through the openings at the base of the Gates. A web of wards sprang into being, lines of white power that hissed from the Gates and formed an impenetrable mesh before them. Bane stepped back as some came close to him, but they did not react to his presence.