Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos

by T C Southwell

  Bane pointed at the screen. “Stop the ship next to that rock.”

  A large grey boulder rose above its counterparts a short distance from the dra’voren, too close for comfort. She cast him a worried glance.

  “That’s very close, Lord.”

  “It needs to be.”

  “Yes, Lord.” Nikira nodded to the pilot, who steered the ship towards the boulder.

  Bane swung away. “I must prepare.”

  Drevarin followed him into the lift, and Nikira chewed her lip. As soon as the two men left the bridge, the pilot swung to face her.

  “Commander, that’s far too close. It’s not safe.”

  “You heard what he said.”

  “He doesn’t care if we get killed.”

  Nikira frowned at her. “You don’t know that.”

  “We don’t even know what he’s going to do.”

  “I’m going to find out. Do as he said.”

  At the lift, she tapped the button and waited for it to return, her mind seething with questions. When it arrived, she descended to the fifth floor, hoping the two men were in their usual place. She trotted into the dining room and stopped in surprise and confusion. Bane sat on his couch, his head bowed, a faint blue nimbus shimmering between him and the pale cloud. Mirra sat beside him, holding his hand, her expression anguished. Drevarin stood close by, talking, while Ethra, Sarrin and the rest of Bane’s little group sat on the floor. Sarrin glanced around and smiled, then raised a finger to her lips. Nikira crept closer and knelt beside her.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  Sarrin looked sad. “Bane is... concerned. He fears what lies in store for him. He is afraid he will fail.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  “Free Kayos.”

  “But how? That dra’voren will stop him.”

  Sarrin nodded. “He will try.”

  Ethra turned to them, her eyes bright with tears. “Tell him not to go, Sarrin, he’ll listen to you. He could be killed!”

  Nikira thought that was highly likely, and glanced over at the two men. Drevarin had seated himself beside Bane and placed an arm around his shoulders, blue fire sparkling between them. She strained to hear what he was saying, but failed. Turning her attention to Sarrin and Ethra, she listened to the old woman comfort the girl instead. This was madness. The scanners had shown that Bane was less powerful than a fiend; there was no way he had any hope of defeating the dra’voren. She recalled the angel’s assertion that he was extremely powerful, and Drevarin’s contention that the Demon Lord outranked even him, but it made no sense.

  The scanners did not lie, and he had used the dark power when he had summoned the shadow hound. An intense sadness invaded her at the prospect of his demise, and she wondered if Drevarin was trying to dissuade him from his mad intention to free the embattled Grey God. Drevarin had left his domain to save Bane because he was unique and valuable, so surely he would not allow him to commit suicide now? Yet Drevarin had told her that Bane could defeat a dra’voren, and that was why he was so valued. That was also the reason they had come to this place, seeking the Grey God and his foe, but she failed to understand how he could possibly defeat a dra’voren.

  She gathered her courage and stood up. “Lord.”

  Bane raised his head, his eyes impaling her, and Drevarin glanced at her with a frown.

  “We could set the trap for this dra’voren. Then all you would have to do is lure him into it, and we’ll shred him.”

  He looked pensive. “Perhaps that would be a good idea.”

  Drevarin shrugged. “You cannot take too many precautions, I suppose.”

  “Precautions?” Nikira raised her brows. “Surely it’s the only way to defeat that dra’voren?”

  Bane smiled, looking down at his hands. “It would be safer, but not ideal. Where would this trap be?”

  “It’s always a hundred and fifty yards directly in front of the ship. That’s where the translocation generators are aimed.”

  “I will bear it in mind.” He sighed. “I do not understand why Kayos chose this place. It is far too dark.”

  “It was probably a lot lighter when he came here,” Drevarin said. “This battle has been raging for weeks now, and his foe has brought in dark power.”

  Bane nodded. “Of course. If I am wounded, you will not be able to heal me unless I cast out my power first, so do not try. If I have not cast it out, do not come near me without your shields... or without my wife beside you.” He cast Mirra warm glance, and she managed a stiff smile. “She alone is safe from me when the darkness fills me.”

  “Very well.”

  The Demon Lord rose and wandered away, his hands clasped behind his back. Mirra followed, and Nikira watched him with a puzzled frown, then glanced at Drevarin, who smiled at her confusion.

  “He is preparing himself.”

  “Surely he doesn’t mean to try to fight that dra’voren?”

  “No, I think he intends to destroy him.”

  Nikira’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding! That’s nuts.”

  He tilted his head. “Why is it nuts?”

  “Because he’s... We’ve seen him on the scanners, twice, and he’s not even as powerful as a fiend. I don’t know why you say he’s more powerful than you; it’s just not true.”

  “But it is, Nikira. What you saw...” He shook his head. “You will see soon enough. I recommend that you go and watch your instruments. You are about to witness a rare and amazing event, one that even gods seldom see.”

  Nikira glanced at Bane, her heart torn. He had turned to face them, his expression grim. Mirra stood beside him, and he pulled her his arms and whispered soft words in her ear. She clung to him, nodding. He stroked her hair, then held her away and bent to kiss her. She raised a hand to caress his cheek, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  Releasing her, he glanced at Drevarin and nodded. His eyes flicked over the rest of them, lingering on his father, whose sad smile looked a little forced. Bane swung away and walked towards the far wall, murmuring a harsh word. As he vanished through it, Ethra covered her face and wept. Sarrin comforted the girl, murmuring encouraging words, but she seemed to take little notice of them. Mithran went over to Mirra and put an arm around her, holding her as she wiped her eyes. Nikira headed for the lift, Drevarin following.

  Montar looked up as she entered the dimly lighted observation room, his expression puzzled.

  “The tar’merin just left the ship. What’s he doing out there?”

  “We’re about to find out.” Nikira went to a console and touched a key, routing the video feed to the wall screen. It showed Bane walking towards the group of fiends and their crimson-clad master, his cloak billowing in the wind. After a few strides he vanished, and she glanced at the scanner screen, where his form was a paler grey than the fiends, while the dra’voren was ink black. Drevarin smiled as he gazed at the screen, and his soft words broke the tense hush.

  “Behold, where darkness reigns, so shall there be light that shines through it. And where these two shall meet, there shall come a great destruction. And out of this destruction shall come life. Thus all things are brought to balance.”

  ***

  Kayos gazed into the Eye, his sight blurred by fatigue. Bane approached across familiar grey rocks under a dark sky, and he sagged with relief. Never had he thought he would be glad to see a dark god approaching, but now intense joy filled his heart at the sight of his dark son. He chuckled as the tension leaked out of him, leaving behind a kind of euphoria. Now Torvaran would have to deal with the Demon Lord, and Kayos could finally rest. His eyes, which he could barely keep open, slammed shut, and he slumped.

  Chapter Six

  The Battle

  Torvaran sensed a dark being behind him and swung around, tucking away the key. A huge demon hound trotted towards him, its eyes aglow with triumph, its form solid. He frowned. So, the dark god who had watched him had come to challenge him for his prize, an unwelcome annoyance. Th
e Hellhound gave him reason for pause, for it was larger and more powerful than his own. He was not going to give up his prize without a fight, however, and he had learnt a few tricks over the millennia.

  There was always the possibility of striking up an alliance if the newcomer was particularly formidable. After all, destroying a Grey God was almost as satisfying if another helped, the aim was still achieved. He waited for the stranger to reveal himself, and after a moment a black-clad man appeared a dozen or so yards away, heading towards him with confident strides. Torvaran’s eyes narrowed as he studied the newcomer, who was of the same type as the Grey God, a woefully common species. The man’s chiselled features held the dark power’s unmistakeable imprint, and the fragile glow of life shone from him. Torvaran realised with a start that the dark god who faced him was mortal, and a youth.

  He smiled. “Welcome, Brother.”

  The youth’s expression remained hostile. “I am no brother of yours.”

  “Then I hope you are just passing through, because this prize is mine. Go and find your own.”

  “No. This one belongs to me. He is my friend.”

  Torvaran chuckled. “You have been hunting him for that long? It did not take me long to catch him. You are outmatched boy, so leave. Do you know who I am?”

  “Should I care?”

  “If you were not an ignorant youth. I am Torvaran, the Destroyer.”

  The youth sneered, “How nice for you.”

  “Has anyone bothered to give you a name, or a title?”

  “I am Bane, the Demon Lord.”

  Torvaran sniggered. “Demon Lord is a title hardly worth owning. Even a demi-god can summon a demon.”

  “I have another title, which you will like less.”

  “And what is that? Dolt?”

  A slight, chilling smile curled the stranger’s lips, and Torvaran wondered what gave this upstart youth the right to be so confident in his presence.

  “Look within me, and see it for yourself.”

  Torvaran frowned. He never bothered to look at souls, they were predictable in gods, but now he did as the youth advised, and closed his eyes. The brilliant white light of Bane’s soul made him step back with a grunt of surprise, and his eyes sprang open.

  “Tar’merin!”

  Bane’s smile widened. “Now you know.”

  “Traitor! Filthy light lover. Spawn of a whore!”

  The Demon Lord’s brows drew together and his smile vanished. “Do not sully my mother with your foul tongue.”

  “Only a filthy light loving whore could birth a god child who would take up the darkness and betray it.”

  Bane waved his hand at the row of fire demons beyond the shimmering silver sphere. “Begone!”

  They vanished in an implosion of foul air, and Bane turned flinty eyes upon his foe. “Now I shall destroy you.”

  Torvaran snorted. “You are no match for me, traitor.”

  “You are correct, I far outmatch you.”

  “You dream, upstart -”

  Bane leapt at Torvaran, and his hands flashed out to grip the dark god’s wrists. As Torvaran recoiled, a spike of gleaming steel sprouted from his chest, forcing Bane to duck. It skimmed over his shoulder, slicing into his skin. He gritted his teeth and Gathered with all his power. The seven runes on his chest flared brilliant yellow, shining through his tunic, and Torvaran’s droge form smeared as it lost its substance. The shadows that rushed into Bane filled him in moments, and he shed the excess in a column of pure blackness that shot into the ground beneath him.

  Torvaran roared with rage as he fought the Gather, hanging onto his power with immense strength. His droge body reformed, and another steel spike sprouted from his belly, aimed to disembowel his foe. Bane took hold of time and slowed it, twisting so the spike only pierced the flesh of his flank. A second spike shot towards his gut, but this time Torvaran countered his attempt to slow time. Bane was forced to release him and leap backwards.

  Torvaran glared at him, his face twisted with hatred. “I will take great pleasure in destroying you, tar’merin. Your kind has always sickened me, but I never thought to meet one.”

  ***

  The screen in the observation room showed Bane and his foe standing a few feet apart, the zoom lens allowing a close up view of them. Nikira wished she could hear what they were saying, but there were no external microphones. When the dra’voren jumped back, looking surprised, she glanced at Drevarin, who nodded and smiled.

  “He has just discovered what Bane is.”

  “You can hear what they’re saying?”

  “No, but I can guess.”

  Nikira gazed at the screen as the fiends vanished, and then her heart leapt into her throat when Bane lunged at the dra’voren and grabbed his arms. A silver spike shot out of the dra’voren’s chest, which Bane evaded with his split-second reflexive recoil.

  “Bloody hell!” Montar shouted, and Nikira swung around. On the scanner screen, Bane’s form had turned pitch black, and a column of darkness poured into the ground beneath him. She turned back to the screen as the dra’voren’s droge form shrank and smeared under the force of Bane’s Gather. Another silver spike shot out of the dra’voren’s belly, then he seemed to slow while Bane tried to avoid the weapon, which pierced his side. A third spike lanced towards his gut, and he leapt back, releasing the dra’voren. Nikira chewed her lip as Bane retreated, clasping his side. When he lifted his hand, it was red with blood.

  “He’s already wounded.”

  Drevarin nodded. “The dark god is cunning, probably many thousands of years old.”

  A sword appeared in Bane’s hands as he charged the dra’voren, but he rebounded off a black shield that shot up in his path and staggered back. Nikira glanced at Drevarin, her eyes filled with anguish.

  “How can he hope to defeat that monster? He’s only flesh and blood! Is this what you saved him for? One battle that he’ll die trying to win?”

  Drevarin’s brows rose at her tone. “Certainly not. By his own account he has already defeated three dark gods.”

  “How? He’s not even using his power.”

  “He cannot use it against one of his own kind, to do so would be sheer folly. Watch, and you will see.”

  Nikira turned back to the screen, where Bane appeared to taunt the dra’voren, his arms spread in an invitation to strike. A double-headed battle axe appeared in the dra’voren’s hands, and he rushed at Bane, the weapon raised. Bane stepped aside at the last instant and plunged his sword into the dra’voren’s side, then sliced through him with a vicious jerk. The dra’voren’s droge form parted, revealing the darkness within. He whipped around and swung the axe at Bane’s neck.

  The Demon Lord plunged his sword into the dra’voren’s chest and released the hilt, his hands flashing up to grip the dark god’s wrists. Once more black fire burst from Bane, pouring into the ground in a river of darkness. The dra’voren flung himself backwards, and the flow of dark power from Bane slowed as his foe fought the Gather. Another metal spike shot out of the dra’voren’s belly, forcing Bane to release him and leap back.

  Bane gestured, and a huge mound of rocks appeared from nowhere and buried the dra’voren. Before Nikira had time to register it, the dark god crawled from the settling pile of boulders, minus his axe and Bane’s sword. Four earth demons armed with twisted metal spears shot up behind Bane, making Nikira yelp in alarm. He spun, and a swathe of black fire exploded from his hands, reducing the fiends to piles of scattered soil and bubbling lava.

  Nikira’s eyes widened, Montar cursed, and the rest of the crew gaped at the screen. The lift doors slid open to admit Sarrin’s group, accompanied by a sheepish looking guard. Nikira looked around with a frown, and the soldier saluted.

  “They demanded to be brought to you, Commander. Standing orders are that they get what they want.”

  Nikira nodded and turned back to the screen, where Bane had taken hold of the dra’voren again. Black fire poured from him, making the ground beneath
him glow, then the dra’voren broke free once more. The little group gazed at the screen, and Ethra gave a strangled cry of anguish. Sarrin put her arm around the girl, while the guard stared at the embattled gods, spellbound. Mirra’s eyes shone with pride and sorrow. Mithran placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, watching Bane with intense sadness mingled with amazed admiration. Grem stood behind them, fingering the hilt of his sword, his expression a mixture of pride and admiration.

  “Montar, send this vidfeed to every comscreen on the ship, I want everyone to see this,” Nikira ordered.

  The obstech touched his panel, never taking his eyes from the main screen. Bane summoned another sword and attacked the dra’voren with sweeping strokes. The dark god retreated, deflecting Bane’s blows with another huge axe.

  “By the light,” Sarrin murmured. “That is the monster who slew Armorgan.”

  Drevarin glanced at her. “It may only be one of the same kind.”

  “Forgive me, Lord, it is him. The same clothes, the same face. That is Torvaran, the Destroyer.”

  “I have heard of him. He has a key that opens many gates, and he has slain numerous light gods. He is said to be powerful.”

  Artan’s eyes glittered, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. “Let me out of this ship, and I will aid in his destruction.”

  Drevarin smiled. “I applaud your courage, but you would not last two seconds out there.”

  “Why doesn’t he lure him into our trap?” Nikira asked. “It would be over in moments.”

  “Because Bane wants to destroy him.”

  Nikira sank down on a chair as Torvaran raised his axe, then slowed as if trapped in treacle. Bane lunged at him and sliced through his droge form three times before the dra’voren broke free of whatever was slowing him and brought his axe down in a glittering arc. Bane skipped aside, half floating over the ground, dark fire supporting him in a column of shadow that made his cloak flare and swirl.