Torvaran laughed. "I think not."
Kayos shrugged. "As you wish."
The dark god stepped towards Kayos, who stepped back, keeping the distance between them. Torvaran chuckled and walked around him, his eyes bright with glee. Kayos turned to face him, keeping his expression deadpan. Although he did not show it, his gut was clenched in anticipation of the battle to come, and he knew that he was in grave danger.
Although he was more powerful, wise and skilled than younger gods, one mistake was all it would take to spell his doom. He was tempted to raise his shields and wait for Bane, but first he would show Torvaran that a Grey God was more than capable of defending himself. He smiled inwardly at his foolish pride, but the likes of Torvaran had killed too many of his children. He longed for some retribution, and perhaps to dent the dark god's brash confidence.
Torvaran leapt at Kayos, who jumped back, raising his hands in a sweeping motion that yanked a shining sheet of power from the ground. Torvaran rebounded off it, white flames licking over his chest. He rubbed them out, his smile widened and his eyes gleamed, then he raised an arm and unleashed a bolt of dark power at the Grey God. Kayos batted it away with a blazing shield that appeared in his hand an instant before the black fire struck.
A growl of thunder shook the region as the dark power vanished into the surroundings in a blaze of blue. The area was one of the common grey rock landscapes, but white fire suffused it, and the sky glowed dull yellow. Torvaran's arms shot out, lengthening as only a droge body could, and a curved sword of light appeared in Kayos' fist. He slashed upwards, lopping off Torvaran's hands, and the dark god hissed in anger. New hands budded from his wrists, and his eyes flashed.
With a sweeping gesture, he flung a swathe of black fire at Kayos, who deflected it with another brilliant shield. Torvaran threw bolt after bolt at the Grey God, striving to penetrate his hand and body shields, forcing Kayos to move at lightning speed to avoid or deflect the bolts. At the same time, Torvaran leapt at his foe, following his every evasion, seeking the brief hold that would end Kayos' existence.
For two days, or two rest periods, since the town had no night or day, Bane rested. The price of their meals had increased to ten gold coins, but he did not care. In fact, he had offered to turn the entire building into gold, but Tronak had protested that Morwanor would simply take it if it was too visible. Instead, Bane had turned the stones Artan brought him into gold coins, satisfying Tronak's demands.
Mirra still slept, but Sarrin assured him that she was improving, while Ethra hovered close to death. Bane's head throbbed and his eyes stung, reminding him of the sickness he had suffered long ago in his own domain. Then Mirra had given him a potion that had eased the pain, but, although Sarrin had asked the kitchen girl for herbs to brew a similar potion, they had not been forthcoming. This told Bane that Frendar either enjoyed suffering, or did not care to help ease it.
They ate their meals in the room now, since Bane did not wish to stumble around or fall down the stairs. He finished picking at another delicious repast, which he surmised was dinner, but it might have been breakfast. He did not care, his mood was sour, and he held out the empty plate. Someone took it, and he fingered the bandages over his eyes.
"Sarrin."
"Yes, Lord?"
"Take this off."
She approached him. "I think you should leave it on for a little longer."
"Take it off."
After a moment's hesitation, she removed the bandages. It took several minutes before the last strips of cloth fell away, and Bane rubbed his aching eyes, finding that they were gummed shut.
"Let me wash them," Sarrin murmured, and left to fetch a bowl of water and a clean cloth. Sitting beside him, she wet the cloth and wiped the crusts from his eyes, studying the damage to his face. The red welts had faded to faint pink marks, and she prayed to no one in particular that his eyes had healed. The men watched with grim expressions as the last of the crusts softened and sloughed off, and Bane opened his eyes. They were completely white, and Sarrin stifled a gasp of horror. Swallowing a lump, she strived to speak in a steady voice, but it shook.
"Can you see?"
"No."
"I am sorry."
Bane smashed his fist into the wall beside the bed, cracking the stone and making everyone jump. "That is it then, I am blind."
"Perhaps it just needs more time, My Lord."
Bane's head jerked around as his keen hearing picked up a faint skirl of childish laughter. "Get out, all of you."
Closing his eyes, he watched their soul lights leave the room. Ethra lay on the narrow bunk they had brought in for her. Mirra slumbered beside him, but he did not think the presence of two unconscious girls would deter Frendar. As soon as they left, a brilliant white soul appeared before him, drifting around the room.
"Hello, Frendar."
The child god giggled. "I could fix you, but I won't."
"I did not ask it of you. You are a malicious child."
"I'm a god!"
"How old are you?"
"Five."
Bane groaned inwardly. This was worse than he had thought. Frendar was undoubtedly much older, but his childish reasoning had stopped developing at the age when he had been turned into a god, and, since he was so young, he probably could not count any higher.
"Who made you a god?"
The shining soul settled on the end of the bed. "Tyrashin. She's dead now."
"What happened to her?"
"A bad man came, and chased us for a long time. When he caught her, I ran away."
"Why did Tyrashin make you a god?"
Bane sensed the child shrug. "She liked me."
"Why do you stay here? Would you not like to live in a nice world instead?"
"Yes, but it's scary out there. It's dark."
"You fear the dark." Bane nodded. That was why Frendar had chosen to stay here, where the light never died. There were plenty of light places in the God Realm, but evidently this was the first one that Frendar had come across. "Your old world, where Tyrashin lived, it is close by, is it not?"
"Not far. But it's nasty now, all dark."
"Would you like to go to a nice bright place, with a sun and trees and animals and things?"
"Yes."
"I could take you to such a place."
Frendar giggled. "You're blind!"
"You like that, do you not?"
"It's fun. I think I'll make some more people blind, then they can bump into things and fall over." A swirl of red flushed through the shining brilliance of Frendar's soul.
"That is cruel. Why do you not help them instead of changing them?"
"What fun is that?"
"You give them food, so you must want to help them."
Frendar bounced on the bed, making it creak. "That's to keep them alive, so they can look after me."
"How do they look after you?"
"They say nice things to me, and sometimes, when monsters come, they fight them." He giggled again. "That's fun."
"Only for you."
"I'm the only one who counts!"
"Do you not want them to be happy?"
"No!" Frendar left the bed and drifted across the room. "Then they won't need me anymore."
"Did Tyrashin not teach you to be kind to mortals?"
"She tried, but that's no fun. You're boring, I'm going to go and play a new game now."
The child god vanished, and Bane sighed, then called Sarrin, who entered moments later.
"Tell the others to come back, he has gone."
"Who, Lord?"
"Frendar."
She came closer. "You spoke to him?"
Bane nodded, and she called out to the others, who returned to gather at the foot of his bed again.
"What did he say?" Sarrin asked.
"Not much. He is only a five year old child. He thinks blind people are fun, so we can expect some of our benefactors to be struck blind now."
"How terrible."
"Eventu
ally he will grow bored with it, and then he might restore their sight."
"Will he help you, Lord?"
"No."
Sarrin sat on the bed and studied him. His eyes remained closed, and his expression was grim. "Perhaps in time your eyes will heal, Lord."
"Perhaps."
"Is there no way to persuade Frendar to help you?"
"He is afraid of the dark. I could make this place dark, but that would attract the attention of Morwanor. Since these people provide him with gold, and sport, he would not like it if they left."
Sarrin frowned, considering this. "Can Morwanor not make gold, as you can?"
A slight smile curled Bane's lips. "No. But he could easily summon it."
"Then why does he make them provide it?"
"He thrives on pain and suffering, and these people are as much his playthings as they are Frendar's. Exacting a tithe from them is just part of his enjoyment. Without them, he would have no one but his demons and droges, so he will want them to stay. He probably destroyed this domain, then realised that there is no fun to be had without mortals to torment. Fortunately for him, Frendar arrived and kept the remnants alive, so he tolerates the child god. He might even be the one who destroyed Frendar's domain and killed the light goddess."
Sarrin shuddered. "The ways of gods are strange indeed, Lord."
"You think me strange?"
"In some ways." She paused. "Surely if I prayed to Frendar, he would help us?"
Bane shook his head. "Do not draw his attention to you. He is malicious, and you would find his pranks unpleasant."
"Then what should we do?"
"Wait."
Kayos spun to face his foe, deflecting the bolts of darkness that flew at him with one of his two shining shields. He leapt aside to avoid Torvaran's grasping hands that shot out to try to capture him. The dark god was weakening, unable to draw much dark power from the light area in which they fought, and his bolts had dwindled, but were still dangerous. Furrows streaked the ground around Kayos where deflected bolts of shadow had ripped into it, and the area reacted to the forces their battle unleashed, dark clouds sweeping in to block out the dull yellow sky.
Kayos had lost track of time, but probably several domain days had passed. Torvaran was indeed powerful to maintain his attack for so long, and now would be a good time for Bane to appear. The dark god would not suffer from fatigue, but Kayos needed sleep occasionally. As yet, the lack had not affected him unduly, but eventually it would.
Torvaran stopped and lowered his arms, smiling. "A good battle, Old One. Tired?"
"Not in the least." Kayos adopted a relaxed stance.
Torvaran chuckled. "I have enjoyed it immensely, but now I will take a short break. I would not want you to become lonely in my absence, however, nor for you to rest."
The dark god gestured, and a pile of wood appeared at his feet. A trickle of dark power from his fingers lighted it, and he muttered a few harsh words of summoning. The fire blazed, shot with sickly hues of green and purple, then rose in a roaring column as a fire demon took shape in it. A narrow head formed, and two muscular, fiery arms, then it opened a pair of molten eyes and stepped out of the fire. A pair of sweeping, curved horns crowned its head, and a protruding brow ridge formed a deeply frowning countenance. Kayos had seen many kinds of demons, and this sort was familiar to him, little different from the ones in his domains. The fire demon bowed to Torvaran, and another manifested in the flames. Torvaran summoned ten fire demons and ten earth demons, then turned to Kayos.
"These will keep you busy until I return to finish you." He turned to the demons and gestured at Kayos. "Kill him."
The demons bowed and moved towards Kayos, and Torvaran chuckled as he swung away to stride back the way they had come, where there was a dark region for him to tap. Kayos eyed the demons, preparing for a fresh conflict. Although they were not a threat to him, they would, as Torvaran wished, prevent him from resting. A younger god might have fled as soon as Torvaran left, but Kayos knew that to do so was folly.
Now that he had found a light area to fight in, he must stay here. If he travelled into a dark place and Torvaran caught him in it, he would be doomed. The Hound sat some distance away, watching him, ready to follow if he fled. So long as Kayos remained in this light region, the battle would continue until his need for sleep forced him to retreat into his shields, but that was still a long time away. He raised his shields as the demons rushed at him, smashing away their huge earthen fists and the searing light of molten eyes.
A crash of breaking crockery from downstairs, followed by a scream, jerked Bane from his doze, and he sat up. Sarrin had left shortly before to order another meal to be sent up to the room, which she did with a few hand gestures. The men leapt up and charged out of the room before Bane could think to shout at them to stop, and he slid off the bed. Sarrin had bound his eyes again to prevent him from opening them, and now he wanted to tear the bandages off. Stretching his hands out before him, he walked towards the door, or where he hoped it was, and encountered the wall instead.
Groping his way along it, he found the door and hesitated, glancing back at Ethra's soul light by the far wall, and Mirra's on his bed. What were the chances that something would attack them in the short time he was gone? Deciding that it was negligible, and goaded by more crashes and shouts from below, he slipped out and felt his way along the wall towards the stairs. Sliding his feet along the floor, he found the first step and paused, gazing down at the melee of souls below.
A soft giggle nearby told him that Frendar watched him with keen enjoyment, and might even be responsible for whatever was happening. Although he had assured Sarrin that Frendar had not caused the vampires to attack them, for they were dark beasts and beyond his control, he was quite capable of influencing events, and, given his age, was more than likely to do it.
The shouts and roars from below drove him to step down onto the first stair, staying close to the wall's reassuring solidity. He tried to make out what was happening in the common room, where a plethora of souls surged back and forth, accompanied by the sound of weapons striking flesh or stone. The lack of clashing steel told him that it was not a battle waged between two armed parties, but against an unarmed foe, like a dark beast.
Something brushed his cheek, and he jerked around. His foot slipped off the step and his ankle twisted with a crunch. He fell sideways, grabbing the wooden handrail on the outside of the steps. The railing bent under his weight, then broke with a crack, sending him plunging over the edge. He flailed, seeking a fresh hand hold, and grabbed the broken railing. His wrist twisted viciously as he swung, then his fingers slipped from the wood. In the instant before he struck the floor, he tried to use the blue power to cushion his fall, but it did not work.
The impact sent shafts of pain up his legs. His elbow smacked something solid, probably a sturdy table, and his head cracked against the wall. He lay stunned, his arm numb and his legs aching, bright lights dancing in his head. Climbing to his feet, he leant against the wall, rubbing the back of his head as he surveyed the battle once more. Most of the souls in it were tainted, but he spied several pure ones, which he guessed were Mithran, Grem, Artan and his men. As he watched, a soul shrank to a point of dull red light and shot downwards through the floor.
So, the dark realm of this destroyed domain was intact and still functioned, since it did not require a light god to maintain it. Another soul, tainted but not dark, shrank to a brilliant blue spark, but instead of shooting away from the melee, something trapped it. It expanded, but this time Bane could not hear its psychic scream, nor did he witness the visions of its life, for he was not the one who destroyed it. The trapped soul swelled until its light became faint, then it vanished in a flash of brilliance, briefly illuminating the grotesque form of the creature that had destroyed it.
The soul-eater had a squat, gargoyle appearance, massively built and armoured, bipedal and vaguely troll-like. Bane had not encountered anything like it before, but th
at did not surprise him. The creature was killing those who fought it at an alarming rate, but it did not consume the dark souls, which were allowed to flee downwards. Bane guessed that it was too heavily armoured and strong to be unduly injured by the swords that were being used to hack at it, and would probably slay all those who fought it.
Bane hesitated, loath to enter into a battle with something as formidable as the soul-eater without his power, and weak as he was, but equally reluctant to perform a Gather and allow the horror of the darkness back into his flesh. Spreading his hands, he drew in the blue power that seeped from the air, summoning as much as he could hold. He channelled it into his hands to form a ball between them, which he could only sense. He held it until it was as large as he could make it, then flung it at the soul-eater.
Grem staggered back as a massive bolt of blue light streaked across the room from the direction of the stairs and slammed into the grotesque beast whose tough hide turned aside his keen sword with consummate ease. The flare blinded him, and the creature roared, spinning away from its puny opponents to seek the light's source. Its hide sizzled, giving off blue smoke and a terrible stench of charred meat. It staggered, swinging its ugly tusked head from side to side, its glowing red eyes hunting for its new foe. He glanced towards the stairs, where Bane leant against the wall, forming another ball of light between his hands.
Grem shouted a warning as the monster lumbered towards Bane, raising club-like fists. Racing after it, he jabbed his sword into its back, but the blade bent, barely marking its tough scaly hide. Bane lifted his hands, the ball of light between them swelling into a blazing orb the size of a man's head, and flung it at the monster. It struck the beast in the chest in another explosion of brilliance, and the creature staggered. Its roar of rage and pain shook the building, then it lunged at Bane, loomed over him and dwarfed him with its vast bulk. Grem shouted again and tried to distract the beast, but it ignored his puny attempts to wound it and raised its fists to pulverise the blind god.
Demon Lord V - God Realm Page 12