by Matt Hiebert
He bisected all in the group with a single swing so none had a chance to escape. Then he turned to the next group, a day's run to the north. Not so lucky there. The Thogs were faster. Three escaped and alerted others. The warned groups broke apart, scattering individual Thogs in all directions. More nimble than their predecessors, they also took longer to destroy once he caught them. Quintel ricocheted across the countryside for a week just to kill twenty of them. He left the power stones where they fell. There was no time to collect them.
And thus his life continued for weeks. Group by group, he moved across the land, slaughtering as many of the creatures as he could. Yet even during the ecstasy of the killing, Aul never left his thoughts. He wanted to embrace her, to feel her body against his, but knew such a thing would never happen again. Even if she survived, she would not forgive his betrayal. As he darted from one quarry to another, he let his mind’s eye find her light, moving across the landscape, penetrating deeper into the Forestlands, still alive and hating him. He did not dwell upon these glances for long. Such indulgence brought him pain and he had a job to finish.
Despite his efforts, many of the Thogs escaped. Dozens moved too far west for him to reach. While he knew some would be destroyed by the now victorious Abanshi and Vaerian armies, most would cross into the mountains, spreading carnage all the way to Vaer. And there was nothing he could do.
Quintel tried to pull himself away from the endless butchery and head back toward Sirian Ru. The god was his goal. The killings were distractions. But when he tried to veer toward the god's castle, another massacre would send the fragment into fits of rage and pain. Slaughtering the roaming Thogs became a compulsion. The god within him craved it. He bolted to the east, west, north and south. After a while, he did not think about Sirian Ru at all, but merely moved from massacre to massacre.
One day while closing on a large group to the north, he saw his prey was already engaged in battle and being killed with unnatural efficiency. The foe was invisible to him on the spiritual plane. It was the Lanya.
Quintel crested a wooded ridge and descended into the struggle. He saw a dozen of the modified Thogs encircled around a lone combatant. Coming from behind like a cyclone, he slew half the lot with two strokes. Flesh, bone and guts sprayed the landscape.
He could not see the Lanya warrior. She was invisible upon both the physical and spiritual planes. He realized his mistake when his humming sword came slashing down upon the neck of the last Thog.
Quintel halted his blow before taking the god's head off, his sword frozen in mid strike. He had trouble believing what he was seeing. It was Yuul, trapped inside one of the stones, animating one of the Thogs.
“Quintel! Hold your sword! It is me!” the Thog said.
Quintel saw the god wedged and folded inside one of the new, more complex stones. It was not a tidy fit. The god's spirit looked like it wore clothes too small for its body. Ridiculous.
“Yes, I see,” Quintel said. “Yuul, what have you done?”
“I'm alive!” the Thog-god said. “Look!” The possessed Thog jumped and danced around the fallen corpses of the other Thogs in a macabre ballet. “I can feel! I can see!”
Quintel put away his blade. He wasn't certain what to make of the god's sudden presence. He felt the fragment within him did not like it.
He could tell by the technique of entry that Yuul had been watching events for a while. The god had seen the Demonthane. That was how it learned to use the stone to hold its essence. Quintel thought of the sword in his sheath and suspected that Yuul had not thought out the puzzle to its completion.
“Do you know the condition is permanent?” He told the deity, who stood before him with a broad fanged face and green, knob-covered flesh. “You cannot extract yourself from the stone. It is a prison.”
The god's monstrous grin sagged.
“What?” Yuul rumbled. “Of course it's not. I can leave this shell at will. When the time comes, I shall.”
Quintel peered into the intricate mechanism of the Thog's stone. The god had welded to the geometry of the battery. He shook his head.
“No.”
Walking passed the possessed Thog, Quintel headed for the next group of raiders on the horizon.
“Where are you going?” Yuul called to his back. Quintel did not answer. “Do not ignore me, Quintel. I know your life from conception! I am your creator!”
Quintel turned back to the Thog-god.
“You are a child, Yuul.”
“I am here to help you,” Yuul growled.
“Help me? You have only thrown in another complexity. You are an unexpected piece on the board. Another delay.”
“I've already killed dozens of Ru's new creations,” Yuul defended, proud of its efforts. Since incarnating, the god had wandered the countryside, avoiding humans and ambushing the modified Thogs whenever it found them. Unlike the Demonthane, whose form had been grown around the Great Stone to enhance its power, Yuul’s physical strength was no greater than that of a common Thog. The stone in which it resided bound the god, limiting its might. Nevertheless, Yuul’s divine vision and insight made it more than a match for any twenty of the creatures. Especially if it came up from behind them.
“You are one of Ru's creations!” Quintel countered. “Without that body, you cannot live. It was born in the Living God's factories and you are trapped within it forever.”
“That is a lie!” Yuul roared. “When I am finished with it, I will find a more suitable vehicle, one that will let me unleash my true power. I am in complete control of my destiny.”
A blow to Yuul's broad chest sent it flying backwards into a tree. Quintel had closed the distance between them and struck before Yuul even saw him move. Yuul collapsed and Quintel was on its chest, pinning the god's arms to the ground. Yuul tried to move but couldn't. Quintel was as immoveable as a mountain.
“Really?” Quintel said inches from Yuul's fanged face. “Then from my breast, take the fragment you lost. Rejoin your halves and be whole again.”
Yuul looked into Quintel's soul. The sliver that had once been a part of the god stared back. Its vision was filled with contempt. It did not recognize him. Yuul felt its hatred.
“I should tear that stone from your chest and form it into a sheath to accompany my sword,” Quintel continued. “At least then you would have a use in this struggle.”
Yuul felt fear. The god knew Quintel could do it, and the fragment, a thing that had once been a part of itself, wanted him to.
Quintel released the Thog-god and stood.
“You and Sirian Ru have treated the world as a playground,” Quintel said. “Well, continue to play, my creator. Slay as many of Ru's creations as you can find. You are neither threat nor aid to me.”
Quintel turned and headed into the forest.
“But keep your distance,” Quintel said disappearing into the forest. “Sirian Ru sees everything.”
Relieved to be alive, Yuul stood and picked up its dropped sword. That was not the welcoming it had expected. Yuul thought Quintel would celebrate its presence, perhaps even pay it homage. Yuul still felt the venomous stare from the severed portion of itself. The god would indeed give the Thog Stacker a wide avenue. The Abanshi was as dangerous as Sirian Ru.
As Yuul walked in the opposite direction, the god felt a presence and turned, afraid Quintel had changed his mind. Before it, stood the Lanya queen in ethereal form, a swirling cloud of awareness.
“Do not go that way, young god,” the spirit said. “You must travel here.”
In the bare dirt at Yuul's feet, a detailed map appeared, scratched in the earth and highlighted by the splattered black blood of the dead Thogs.
“Go to this place and wait,” the disembodied warrior-witch instructed. “You will know what to do when the time comes.”
Yuul studied the map and saw the indicated destination. At first, the god could not bring itself to agree. The location made no sense. Then it put all the pieces in play, followed the lines
of possibilities and figured out what the Lanya desired.
“I see now,” the god said, rubbing its square chin. “Very well, old friend. I will do as you say.”
With that, the smoky form of the queen disappeared. The god rested its notched iron sword over its shoulder and began walking towards its new destination.
Chapter 37
Quintel was angry. Yuul's appearance added another loose element into the conflict. He remembered the words of the young Vaerian lieutenant and knew he might have to kill two gods before the end of it all.
While Yuul might believe it was his ally, the deity merely wanted what Ru already had: The world. The young god would be a friend until its goals were achieved, then it would take Ru's place. Yuul was new to the plane of existence. The god might become stronger as it learned more. A part of Quintel wished he had torn the occupied stone from its nest when he had the chance. On the other hand, Yuul and he shared a goal. The deity may have a use yet unseen.
What fueled Quintel's frustration most was not the god's presence, but himself. His compulsion to kill the Thogs was all consuming. He could not break himself from the hunt.
The more Thogs he killed, the more the god fragment wanted to kill. Each death was ecstasy to both his halves. Every time a stone fell from a Thog's chest, a rush of pleasure swept over him. The killings had become an addiction. His god half did not care that slaying Sirian Ru was the true goal. It could go on this way forever.
Quintel knew he did not have forever. The distraction had gone on long enough. He had to summon the strength to break free and confront Sirian Ru. Destroying the raiding bands had already wasted months. It was time to return to his mission. Especially with Yuul in the mix.
As this awareness filled his thoughts, the fragment squirmed. A mass of instinct and reaction, the piece of infinity did not comprehend strategy or understand the greater end. It moved on impulse, avoiding that which brought it pain and embracing that which gave it pleasure. He hadn’t tried to force the entity to comply. The new Thogs needed slaying and the grief they brought left him little choice.
Most of the groups had now either been eliminated or moved on. Aul's army was advancing and would be at Ru's doorstep soon. It was time to turn his attention eastward.
But Quintel was afraid he did not possess the strength to do it.
He sensed three of the modified Thogs over the horizon and reflexively headed toward them. Now was the time for the human within him to take control. Instead of racing to meet the group, he kept heading east, deeper into the heavy wood. The god protested. A hollowness filled his spirit. Longing for the slaughter felt like starvation. All he had to do was change direction, destroy the group and then continue toward Ru's castle. That’s all. Then he could head east later. Such logic had dominated him since he left the army at the tunnel. There was always another cluster to kill, another gray light to snuff out.
Quintel broke from a copse of trees and stopped running. The divine fragment blazed white within his heart, dwarfing his human spirit. Seeing his resistance, it tried to force him toward the Thogs. The compulsion was great. Quintel took a step away from the direction of the god's desire. The fragment raged. Quintel took another step. The piece screamed.
“Answer my will!” Quintel shouted into the wilderness. Desire to kill the Thogs burned in his heart. The want was almost as crushing as the grief the fragment suffered. “I must confront the god!”
As the two spirits grappled, Quintel thought of the Lanya's instructions for controlling his power. An image appeared in his mind. The first fold. The first step in the process of controlling his spirit. Without a better plan, Quintel took the chance. Concentrating, he performed the act, folding the edge of the god fragment over like a piece of parchment.
Something deep within the separate spirit shuddered and it fell silent. Quintel was in control. The change filled him like cool mountain air. He had not been fully in charge of his own actions since entwining with the god. Now he felt like he had say. While they worked together to kill the Thogs, their cooperation did not go beyond that, except in their feelings for Aul.
He did not take the next step in the Lanya’s process, holding upon the first. The final outcome of their instructions still disturbed him. He did not know what it might mean when complete. For now, he had tamed the god enough to walk in the right direction.
He had been avoiding settlements and villages, but now he sensed a change in the population of the Forestland. Their loyalty to Ru was gone. Dozens of burned villages and hundreds of citizens butchered by the Thogs had given them a shift in alliance. The Forestlands were no longer resisting Aul's progress, but welcoming her.
And something else swirled in the currents of their thoughts. Something that had to do with him. Beneath the fear and betrayal felt by the Forestlands a whispering chant echoed quietly in their conversations.
It was a name.
Blackhand.
Some spoke the name with trepidation, some spoke it in reverence. Either way, the people of the Forestlands knew he traveled their lands spilling Thog blood and resisting Ru's will. Where the old god had betrayed them, a new god would save them. And this god was a man.
He decided to venture closer to a settlement at the edge of one of the denser forests. Several hundred lifelights bloomed throughout the streets and constructs of the village. Chimneys released thin wisps of smoke into the air and the sounds of turning wagon wheels and human voices found his ears. It was midday and the streets were filled with commerce and conversation. He decided to enter. What harm could it do?
As he followed the brown trail that led to the collection of thatched roof structures, he observed peasants and merchants milling about the streets. One of them, a young girl, saw him approach. At first she noticed him as she would any stranger entering her village. Then she saw his blackened limb.
She raised her arm and pointed to him. “Blackhand!” she called. “It's Blackhand!”
Others turned to see the source of her accusation. First one, then another, then many. He heard them shout to their neighbors deeper in the village, calling them to come. Quintel felt their fear, but there was no hatred in their hearts. They did not see him as an enemy.
By the time he reached the edge of town where the wilderness ended and the buildings began, the entire population lined the streets to meet him. Their light was like a garden of luminous flowers waving and changing colors beneath an unfelt wind. Some were nervous, but most stood in stunned awe. His legend had permeated deeply in very little time.
The cluster of gawking humans parted to allow him passage. He entered, enamored by the festival of life around him. He loved their emotions, the symphony of their experience. He could have stared at any one of them for an eternity.
One of the village elders came forward.
“Blackhand Thogstacker,” he said, voice cracking, tears welling at the rim of his eyes. “Welcome to our village.”
Quintel said nothing, overwhelmed by the man's adoration. Here was a human who knew nothing of him, who had never seen him before, who had been his enemy but weeks before, now worshiping him.
“Thank you,” Quintel said.
“We know you have been traveling our lands, slaying the monsters Sirian Ru sent to destroy us,” the old man said. “Forgive us. Forgive us and our fathers for believing in the mad god. He gave us food and protection, and for that we gave him our souls. Too late, we learned the truth. Were it not for you, this village would be ash.”
Dimly, Quintel remembered he had been in this region before. There had been a cluster of Thogs. He remembered no more. Or rather, the memory was blended with many like it.
Most of the people fell to their knees while others reached out to touch the legend, to touch the man-god who had spawned the tales he realized had been on their lips for many tellings.
As he moved through the conflagration of life that surrounded him, he felt an emotion long forgotten in short a time. He was humbled. The god in him wept, but
for once, not in sorrow. He realized the fragment hungered for more than killing Thogs. It needed love.
Steadily he passed down the avenue of the village with its people shouting his praise around him. He chose not to dwell long among them for he had already found what he sought. And more.
Departing on the far side of town, he turned to the following crowd and removed the black sword from his belt. He thrust the Agara blade in the air above his head. It was a very human act.
“For you, I slay the god!” he shouted to them. And with that, he bolted into the wood and disappeared. Even as he put the Forestland village behind him, he could still feel the love radiating from its inhabitants.
At last, something greater than bloodlust propelled him. While the Abanshi had recognized his divinity, they had witnessed his might firsthand. These people worshiped him not for what they had seen him do, but out of gratitude. He had performed no miracle for them. Their love was given out of unconditional thanks. The sensation overwhelmed him.
He ran to meet the god faster than he had ever run before.
Chapter 38
Quintel could feel the phalanx of Thogs in front of him. Their numbers stretched from one edge of the world to the other, closing off the spit of land where Ru dwelled.
Often during his sprees of mayhem, Quintel would turn an eye to the hulking army to see if they moved or advanced, but they never did. Their line remained still, positioned between himself and Ru without variation.
All were of the failed breed of Thog. He did not understand their purpose. Their numbers could have been infinite and still they would have posed no threat. He assumed the legion to be a warning line, a barrier that would notify Ru once Quintel crossed into the god's land. Their function could not be much more. Yet why would Ru need such a line?
Blue mountains cobbled the horizon. The forest thinned and rocky terrain not unlike that of his homeland appeared before him. It was a patch of the world Quintel had only visited in spirit form. He topped a pine-covered hill and saw the sprawling line of Thogs with his human eyes.