Chapter 48
Mother
Hasbarie stood from his throne and descended the grotesque steps, which were constructed of bodies. He navigated his way through a tiny corridor within the Onock. The inside of the Onock looked nothing like the exterior. The interior was made entirely of body parts and what seemed to be living flesh. He pushed back a large flap of bloody skin that served as a curtain and entered a spacious oval room. The room was dark and the air was thick with the smell of death. The room was flooded with coagulated blood that stood knee high; the ceiling resembled a beating heart. He had entered the chamber of the Mother.
The Mother was the entity responsible for Hasbarie’s powers and his return from the afterlife. The Onock was her home, in this world, and in her own. She was the being that reanimated the bodies of the fallen, as well as conjuring the other various monstrosities that were at Hasbarie's disposal.
Mother was not a woman in the physical sense. Her form was not that of a woman’s, nor that of any other creature in Calencia for that matter. Mother was a bulbous glob of oozing meat. Two large, asymmetrical eyes lay above an abnormally wide, toothy mouth. Mother had no nose, ears, or hair. She was grotesque to say the least. She had a face that only a mother could love.
Mother had brought Hasbarie back from the dead, twice. The first was when he died during his mortal life, and another time when he faced Ryker during the Great War. It caused her great grief when Ryker destroyed the crystal that sat in Hasbarie’s chest. The crystal housed almost the entirety of her collective power, and it had taken her 500 years to partially reclaim it. She had now become strong enough to bring the Onock back to Calencia and with the help of the Dark Priests, strong enough to resurrect Hasbarie once more.
Now that her lost son, Hasbarie, was home and back in her arms, she steadily had been regaining the remainder of her power. She was now able to start summoning more forces for Hasbarie’s army, provide personal protection for the Dark Priests and possess weak minded individuals to act as Summoners. She even managed to muster up enough energy to destroy Morgorath. She made Fodder Valley, as the mystical creatures of Calencia referred to it, impenetrable from Locmire and the new Saviors. Her plan to take over Calencia was in full swing and, with Hasbarie by her side, she felt confident that they would undoubtedly succeed with their diabolical mission.
Hasbarie fell to his knees in the blood flooded floor. He bowed his head and said, “Mother, it pains me to tell you this, but Thaddeus Graystone and his band of miscreants have once again prevailed against the forces we dispatched to seal their fates.”
“Do not fret, my son. I feel that I am almost strong enough to summon more than enough creatures to deal with the Human King, the Wizard, and all of Calencia.” Mother said.
When Mother spoke, her words were partially hidden by the sound of gurgling fluid.
“Mother, I am worried about Locmire and this new group of heroes. Their power is far greater than their ancestors before them,” Hasbarie said.
“My son, I have told you before, there is no need to bow before me. You are my son and King of the Onock. I will not have you bow,” Mother said, as a long fleshy tentacle wiggled down from the top of the room, took Hasbarie by the arm, and brought him to his feet.
“I am sorry, Mother,” Hasbarie said solemnly.
“There is no need to be sorry. It is good that you respect your mother, but you have already proven your love to me,” Mother said as the bloody tentacle stroked Hasbarie’s head.
He bent his head to his shoulder and nuzzled the tentacle against his cheek.
“Now. . . did the four priests go into hiding as I asked?
“Yes, Mother. They are well hidden, and I have provided them with the protectors, just as you directed,” Hasbarie replied.
“Excellent,” Mother gurgled. “It is of the utmost importance that they are not discovered until I have regained all of my power. If the Wizard finds them before that time, I fear the worst.”
“They are well hidden and well protected. Do not fear, they will not be discovered until the time is right,” Hasbarie said as he took the tentacle in his hand. “Thaddeus and his group are headed toward Dead Marsh and Locmire is just now seeking the aid of the Daintish King. I believe we shall have two, maybe three, more days to prepare the attack on the Dead Marsh.”
“Good,” said Mother. “We need all the time we can get. If we can destroy Jeszekia Venumroot before the Wizard arrives at Dead Marsh, the prophecy will be broken and all hope for Calencia will be lost.”
“We will succeed, Mother. I also have high hopes that King Graystone may not even survive the trip to Dead Marsh,” Hasbarie said with a smile on his face.
“Why so?” Mother asked.
“It seems that the good king has made some enemies in his short tenure as King. Those same enemies are at this very moment in search of him to exact revenge,” Hasbarie said with a sound of diabolical laughter in his voice.
“That would prove to be a very fortunate turn of events. Let us hope that they find success in their task,” said Mother.
“Locmire will still have several obstacles in his path to reclaim the throne for the drunken Dainty, and I still have a few surprises in store for Thaddeus. If all goes as planned, you will be powerful enough to launch a full scale assault on Dead Marsh before the others arrive,” said Hasbarie.
“We . . . We will be powerful enough to declare war on Dead Marsh, my son,” Mother said lovingly.
“You are the one who has the power, Mother. Not I. I would be part of the white sands of Fogarth if not for your loving intervention,” Hasbarie said in an unworthy tone.
“My dear child, if not for you, I would have never had an entrance into this world. Because of you, and only you, I am here today. You allowed me to come into this pathetic world and draw the power to sustain my life. All that is mine, is yours as well,” Mother said as two more tentacles wrapped around Hasbarie and pulled him to her. “I love you, son. All things I do in your name.”
Hasbarie looked at Mother and an expression of peace grew on his face. “And I love you, Mother,” he said as he leaned in and gave his mother a passionate kiss.
Locmire's Quest: Book One A Tales from Calencia Novel Page 71