Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos

by T C Southwell

Drevarin gestured, and a wall of white power shot up from the ground around them, leaving the man the first beast savaged outside. The second beast remained on the ramp, and Drevarin turned to face it. Nikira shuddered as the screams of the dying man stopped, relieved that his ordeal was over. Drevarin gestured again, and the shield between them and the second beast parted. Gripping her arm in a vice-like hold, he ascended the ramp, dragging her after him. She whimpered as they approached the snarling beast, but Drevarin thrust it aside, blue fire flaring between them.

  Drevarin pushed her past, then beckoned to Montar and the remaining soldiers, who moved past the beast as it snapped and snarled at them. Nikira tapped in the code at the door, and the ramp slid into the ship, bringing Drevarin and the shadow beast with it. Just as the ramp was about to vanish into the floor, Drevarin pushed the demon hound off, and then stepped inside as the door slid shut. Nikira slumped against the wall, dizzy with relief, her heart pounding. None of the surviving soldiers was injured, and they left at Drevarin’s curt gesture.

  He faced Nikira. “Just what exactly did you think you were doing out there?”

  “I was... I wanted to see the sphere.” Her voice shook.

  “But you knew there were two demon hounds out there.”

  “I thought... We only saw one, and... We thought it was Bane’s so it wouldn’t attack us.” She gulped.

  He turned away with a snort. “Fortunately for you, Bane’s Hellhound was unable to attack you, or you would have all been dead before I could reach you.”

  “Thank you, Lord.”

  “You had better thank him, too, when he wakes up. You lost a lot of men just to satisfy your curiosity.”

  “I... I didn’t know they were so dangerous. I thought the light guns would injure them. They’re only dark beasts, aren’t they?”

  Drevarin shook his head. “No, they are not. Demon hounds are immortal, formed from shadows. You saw how Tarquilar was created. They are the most dangerous of all demonic beasts.”

  “I didn’t realise.”

  “Once again, your ignorance and arrogant assumptions serves you ill. Perhaps next time you will ask for advice before you act.”

  Drevarin strode away down the corridor, and Montar shot her a disgusted look and followed the creator. Nikira waited for her heart to stop pounding, then made her way to her quarters and lay down on her bed. The loss of her men grieved her, and the horrific manner of their death added to her anguish.

  Chapter Eight

  Grey God

  Kayos opened his eyes and gazed at the sphere’s shimmering roof, his mind still fogged by fatigue. Sitting up, he summoned an Eye with a wave and gazed into it. The image that formed showed his sphere surrounded by a torn and smoking landscape of melted rocks and glowing craters. The vista was unmistakeably the aftermath of a battle between two dark gods, but there was no sign of either of them. He widened the Eye’s focus, discovering a strange floating silver ship and two demon hounds close by. He hoped Torvaran’s absence meant he was either defeated or destroyed, but where was Bane?

  A pang of pain shot through his heart at the possibility that his precious son had perished in the battle, but he thrust the thought aside. Fate could not be so cruel. Sending his Eye into the ship, he found that the people he had seen earlier, when Bane had been amongst them, still populated it. If they were still alive, it could only mean that Torvaran was gone.

  With deep dread, he sought Bane, and the swirling sparkles reformed into an image of the Demon Lord lying on a blood-stained bed in a white room. Bandages swaddled his chest and belly, and red marks marred his face, shoulders and neck. Kayos smiled with relief, but a pang of concern shot through him at the same moment, making it bittersweet.

  Standing up, he pressed his palms against the sphere and ordered it to unmake itself.

  ***

  The urgent beeping of her comscreen alarm woke Nikira, and she sat up. Sliding off the bed, she activated the comscreen, aware that the stupid white dress was rumpled and spattered with blood and her eyes were swollen and red. An obstech’s excited face filled the screen.

  “Commander, something’s happening to the sphere.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Nikira raced down the corridor, hopping with impatience in the lift. As she entered the observation room, she glanced up at the main screen, and her mouth fell open. The silver sphere pulsed with pure white light, sending waves of radiance across the dull, ravaged landscape.

  “Where’s Drevarin?”

  “I don’t know, Commander.”

  Nikira touched a key on the console beside her, opening a ship-wide channel. “Drevarin, please come to the observation room.”

  The sphere continued to pulse, the intervals becoming shorter. A gasp from one of the obstechs made her swing around as Drevarin appeared from the back of the room, where he had evidently come through the wall. His eyes were drawn to the main vidscreen, and he smiled.

  “Good, he is awake.” Drevarin stopped beside her and clasped his hands behind his back, gazing up at the screen.

  Nikira shot him an uncertain look. “Aren’t you going to go out and greet him? Tell him what’s happened?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Drevarin shrugged. “He knows.”

  On the screen, the sphere’s flashing had reached the speed and intensity of a strobe light, then it flared to brilliance so intense that Nikira was forced to look away. When the light faded, a sphere of radiant rings was revealed, no longer solid, allowing a glimpse of a man standing within it. The rings unravelled, the light flowing into the man, and, as the last shining arc vanished, he raised his head.

  Nikira gulped. His silver hair gleamed in the dull light, and his pale skin seemed to glow, much as Bane’s had done in the shredder room. Before she could get a better look at him, he strode towards the ship with a gliding gait. An obstech panned the camera to keep him in the picture, but within moments he was too close to focus on. Nikira turned to find Drevarin heading for the lift, and ran after him, slipping in as the doors closed. He shot her a vaguely irritated look.

  “Where’s he going?” she demanded.

  “My supposition would be, to see his son.”

  “His son?”

  Drevarin nodded. “Bane.”

  Her heart sank. “You mean we tortured the son of a Grey God?”

  “That is right.” Drevarin chuckled. “But I think he will be content to let Bane to punish you. In fact, Bane may insist upon it.”

  “Great,” she muttered, her mind reeling with the enormity of this fresh revelation.

  “Yes, you should be grateful. The wrath of a Grey God is not something you would want to experience.”

  “You said that a creator couldn’t punish us.”

  “No, I said that I could not punish you, for I am just a light god. I hold dominion only in my own domain. Kayos is a Grey God, everything is within his dominion.”

  Nikira swallowed bile as she watched the numbers on the lift panel change, dreading what lay ahead. Something told her that Kayos would not be as forgiving as Drevarin surmised. When the doors opened, she followed him into the hospital, where no one seemed to be aware of the Grey God’s presence. They found Bane still unconscious in the private room, Mirra dozing on the chair beside his bed. She looked up with a puzzled expression when they entered, shooting Bane a concerned look.

  “What is wrong?”

  Drevarin shook his head. “Nothing, My Lady. We are expecting company, that is all.”

  Mirra turned to her husband and stroked the hair that framed his visage, tracing the plunging widow’s peak. Drevarin waited beside the door, and Nikira fidgeted, her nerves stretched to breaking point.

  Kayos walked through the wall so abruptly that she jumped as her heart seemed to leap into her throat. Up close he was even more daunting, his hair glinted like silver silk and his grey garb shimmered with sparkles of pale fire. He went straight to Bane’s side and placed a hand upon the Demon Lor
d’s chest. Mirra slid off her chair and inclined her head, clasping her hands before her.

  “Lord Kayos.”

  Kayos ignored her, removing the bandages with a swift tug that parted them as if they were made of cobwebs. The stitches made him pause, then he caused them to vanish with a wave of his hand. He ripped off the monitoring equipment that was hooked to Bane’s chest with a gesture and positioned his hands over the wounds. Golden light flared under his palms, and blue flames licked from Bane’s skin as the dark power sought to protect him from the intrusion.

  Kayos frowned, and the golden light intensified, filling the room with benign warmth. For several minutes the dark power held Kayos’ healing at bay, then the light sank into Bane’s flesh just enough to heal the shallower wounds. The glow faded, and he lifted his hands. The wounds had vanished, leaving faint scars, and the red marks were gone. Kayos straightened and turned to Drevarin, who smiled and stepped forward.

  “It is an honour to meet you, Lord Kayos. I am Drevarin.”

  “Lord Drevarin.” Kayos held out his hand, and Drevarin, after a moment of surprise, clasped it. “You saved my son.” He pulled the startled light god into a brief embrace. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

  “It was a rare privilege to have been afforded the opportunity to aid one such as him, My Lord. The deed was reward enough in itself.”

  “Nevertheless, I am in your debt, Lord Drevarin.”

  Kayos turned to Nikira, who backed away, wanting to sink into the floor as his clear, glowing grey eyes pierced her soul.

  “And you brought me his tormentor.”

  “Actually she came of her own free will.”

  Kayos’ eyes glittered like beaten silver. “Is she particularly brave, or exceedingly stupid?”

  “Exceedingly stupid, I fancy.”

  The Grey God studied her as if she was a poisonous toad he had just found in his bed, his eyes raking the wrinkled white dress. “At least she adheres to the soft-hearted punishment he devised for her, but did she perform her prostration when she entered his room?”

  “No.”

  Nikira hastily performed the humiliating prostration Bane had taught her, speaking the required words. She noticed that Mirra remained in her reverent posture, and did the same, partly because then she did not have to meet Kayos’ fierce eyes.

  “So, she has learnt a little etiquette,” Kayos murmured.

  “With great reluctance. Her god is unborn, and her people are ignorant and proud.”

  “Indeed. You may raise your head, tormentor, but if you arise I will surely cripple you.”

  Nikira sat back on her haunches and stared at his knees, her heart pounding.

  He turned to Mirra. “Greetings, dear Daughter.”

  The girl raised her head and returned to her chair.

  Kayos faced Nikira again. “How dare you torture my son?”

  Nikira longed to protest again that it had been an honest and terrible mistake, but remembered Drevarin’s words in the nick of time. “I beg your forgiveness, Lord Kayos. I... I alone am to blame, as commander of this ship. I’ve tried to make amends by serving Bane as he wished.”

  “And what did he require of you? To wear a white gown and transport him here? To perform a simple prostration that is no more than his due? Do you think this is punishment enough?”

  “It’s what he wanted. I offered him my life.” She risked a glance at his face and found that he was gazing at Bane.

  “Yes. He would. He has much to learn.” His eyes flicked down to her, and she looked away. “I am not so lenient. By trying to kill him, you put my life at risk. For that, you will be punished.”

  Kayos pointed at her, and white fire spat from his finger. Searing agony shot through her, making her scream and claw at her burning skin. The fire ate into her, scorched her flesh and crisped her bones, shredding her sanity with white-hot pain. She collapsed, writhed and thrashed, her insides burning. It seemed to go on for hours, then it stopped, and she lay gasping, tears running down her face.

  “Get up,” Kayos said. “You are unharmed.”

  Nikira blinked away the tears and struggled to her knees, amazed to find that she was not half cooked, and the pain had receded as quickly as it had struck.

  “I tire of foolish people trying to kill my son, and what is worse, almost succeeding. Go forth and teach your people that they will not arise from their knees in my presence without my permission, for if they do, they will be punished as you were. Nor will they speak to me unless I first address them in a questioning manner. Now get out.”

  Nikira dashed to the door and thrust it open in the faces of the concerned medtechs who hammered on it, alarmed by her screams. Jovan took hold of her as she stumbled into his arms, half dragging her to a nearby bed, where she sat down, shaking.

  “What happened, Commander? Has the tar’merin woken up?”

  She shook her head, fighting to regain her composure. “No. The Grey God has arrived, and he’s extremely angry.”

  “What did he do? Are you okay?” Jovan tried to examine her for injuries, but she pushed him away.

  “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

  “Who was screaming? Is the girl hurt?”

  “No. That was me. He... punished me for what we did to Bane,” she said. “It hurt, but I’m okay now.”

  “A creator hurt you?”

  “Yes, Jovan. Like I said, he’s angry. Don’t let anyone go in there, for pity’s sake. He’s ordered...” She swallowed hard and coughed. “Everyone must hit the deck when they see him. You’ve all had combat training, so treat him like he’s the enemy. Believe me, you don’t want to find out what happens if you don’t.” She slid off the bed. “I must tell the rest of the crew.”

  Jovan turned to frown at the door of Bane’s room, clearly wondering what was happening inside, as she was.

  ***

  Kayos gazed down at Bane, his brow furrowed with concern. “He must purge, or I cannot heal him completely.” His addressed Mirra. “You should leave, My Lady.”

  “I wish to stay, Lord.”

  “Very well.”

  Kayos stepped closer to the bed. Sweat beaded Bane’s brow and ran into his hair, but the blood had stopped oozing from his ears and nose and he no longer breathed steam.

  “Each time he uses more power,” Kayos murmured. “He grows more powerful, but I fear for him. Did he defeat Torvaran easily, Drevarin?”

  Drevarin chuckled. “Bane destroyed him.”

  Kayos shot him a surprised look. “I wish I had seen that. My exhaustion was such that I was forced to sleep when he arrived.”

  “These people have machines that will allow you to see what happened, whenever you desire it.”

  “Clever. I shall do that.” Kayos placed his hand upon Bane’s brow. “Bane, awaken.”

  Kayos waited for a response, then curled his fingers inwards. A flash of white fire shot from his fingertips, evincing a retaliatory blaze of blue. Bane’s eyelids flickered and his neck muscles twitched. Kayos repeated his words and the stab of white power, and Bane’s brows drew together. Removing his hand from the Demon Lord’s brow, Kayos shook his shoulder.

  “Wake up, Bane.”

  Bane’s eyes opened, ink black, and Drevarin tensed as Kayos stepped back. Mirra jumped up and took hold of her husband’s hand, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. His eyes flicked to her and his frown deepened, but her smile did not waver, although she gulped and paled. He pulled his hand from her grasp and turned away with a grimace.

  “Do not touch me,” he said, struggling to sit up, then he clutched his side with a soft groan and sagged back. “I am loathsome.”

  “No, Bane...” Mirra protested, but Kayos gripped her arm and tugged her away. He sent her out of the door that Drevarin opened with a firm shove, closing it again. Bane levered himself up on one elbow and glowered at them, then closed his eyes. Shadows poured from him, cascading onto the floor in a seething pool that sank away into the carpet. The temperatu
re in the room dropped, and the dark power lapped at Drevarin’s boots. Bane opened eyes that were pits of utter darkness, and his lips twisted in a contemptuous sneer.

  “He killed twenty-two of your kind. I watched them die, through his eyes. I saw myself in him. Their power was useless against him.” He looked down at the shadows that flowed from his hands. “I am a destroyer, like him.”

  “Not like him.” Kayos stepped closer. “A destroyer of evil.”

  Bane bowed his head and closed his eyes, then looked up at Kayos. “How much do you trust me now, Kayos? Father?”

  Kayos reached Bane’s side in a stride and pulled him into a fierce embrace. “You are my son. I love you.”

  Bane’s face twisted with a mixture of self-loathing and sorrow, tinged with anguish. He hesitated, then returned Kayos’ embrace. “I will destroy the enemies of your kind, whenever I find them, Father.”

  Kayos spoke in a choked voice. “You are the one son they will never be able to take from me. My heart sings with joy at your triumph and my gratitude for my deliverance knows no bounds. You have gifted me with the pride of your deeds, and the depths of my love for you are infinite.”

  Drevarin swallowed a lump at the ritualistic words only spoken between light gods who shared a strong familial bond. Possibly Bane did not know the import of those words, and that they confirmed his acceptance into the highest hierarchy of light gods, spoken as they were by the eldest of the Grey Gods. It had not taken courage for Kayos to step into Bane’s potentially deadly embrace, only love. That was the one thing Bane needed at the moment, the unreserved love and trust of the Grey God whom he could kill with the merest flick of his thoughts, if he chose.

  By trusting him, Kayos had purged the poison Torvaran had sown in Bane and replaced his contempt with love. The Demon Lord released Kayos and bowed his head, resting his brow on the Grey God’s shoulder, looking exhausted. The black fire stopped flowing from him, and his eyes turned blue as he leashed it. He sagged, and Kayos laid him down on the blood-stained sheets, spreading his hands on Bane’s chest. The golden glow formed under his palms, and he forced it past the remaining dark shield to heal the deep wounds. Bane sighed and closed his eyes as the cruel grip of pain released him. Kayos summoned a cup of ambrosia and gave it to Bane, but he handed it back after a few sips, clasping his belly.