The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen

by Brian D. Anderson

  “What did you see?”

  “I saw pain, chaos, blood, and betrayal.” She began to weep openly. Finally, she managed to speak through her sobs. “He will one day forsake all he loves. He will become…truly evil.”

  Chapter 5

  At first, Gewey couldn’t move a muscle. All he could feel was a blast of searing hot air across his back, while the roar of thunder was threatening to split his skull in two. The rough, gritty soil was hot and putrid, filling his nostrils with the stench of ash and sulfur. After a few minutes of struggling, the strength slowly began returning to his limbs. Finally, he managed to raise his head a little.

  Thick, black smoke mixed with gray dust swirled and churned, making it impossible for him to see more than a few yards away. As he pushed himself to his feet he realized that he was clad in the work clothes he used to wear when living on his farm. His sword and other belongings were gone.

  Shielding his eyes, he took a step forward. His mind was clouded, and though he knew who he was, he had no idea of how he had come to be in such a terrible place. His last memory was of Kaylia’s voice screaming out in terror. It was in that moment that he realized – their bond – it was broken. And yet there was no pain. Before, when Aaliyah had blocked their bond, he had felt the loss of it to his very core. But this time, there was just a total absence of feeling.

  “Kaylia!” he cried out.

  He knew there could be no response. Wherever he was, she was not with him. He was alone. He reached out for the flow, but found only a great void. Fear began to creep its way into his mind, but he forced it aside. He was Darshan, he told himself, and Darshan feared nothing.

  With no other options, he began to walk blindly into the tempest. The wind howled a hollow cry and the dust stung his eyes. Through the dark he caught glimpses of light, but they vanished the moment he turned toward them.

  On an on he walked, though the landscape remained the same. The wind continued to whip around him at a constant speed, blasting his face raw and pushing against his forward progress, regardless of which direction he headed.

  Hours passed, and still there was no sign of life. From time to time the sound of the howling wind seemed to take on a ghostly quality – tormented and angry – and sometimes pleading. Gewey dismissed this as his imagination playing tricks.

  The dry, polluted air parched his throat and swelled his tongue.

  “To think I’ll die of thirst,” he said aloud, letting out a defeated laugh.

  “Die?” said a strong male voice from behind him.

  Gewey spun around, instinctively reaching for his sword, only to realize that it wasn’t there. Before him stood a shadowy figure, its features hidden beneath a cloak of swirling darkness. It was as though the light around the figure was somehow being repelled, preventing his vision from focusing on it. Suddenly, the wind lessened and the smoke began to clear, revealing an endless landscape of black, ruined earth. Towering flames shot to a dull gray sky on the horizon.

  “You cannot die,” the voice continued. “Not in this place…brother.”

  “Who are you?” Gewey demanded. “What is this place?”

  The figure laughed. “I asked that very same question when I arrived. But I had no one to answer me. You shall not suffer such a disadvantage.” His face became slightly clearer. “My name is Melek.” He bowed low.

  “I – I am…”

  “You are Darshan,” interrupted Melek.

  “You know me?” asked Gewey, immediately suspicious.

  “Not in the way you might think,” replied Melek. “But I can see what you have brought with you to this place. And I can see that we are the same.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Gewey, his suspicion building. “How are we the same?”

  Melek’s face and form gradually cleared completely, revealing a human of about forty years old. His salt and pepper hair fell in loose curls just past his shoulders, and in spite of their dull gray surroundings, his deep-set green eyes were bright, friendly and sparkling. Though not as tall or broad as Gewey, he was clearly strong, and his posture was straight and proud. His tan shirt and black trousers looked to be made from cotton, though as the wind caught the fabric, the cloth appeared to glisten with a slight sheen.

  “Come,” said Melek. “I promise to tell you all that I know.”

  For a moment, Gewey did not move. Melek looked at him, smiling like a patient and understanding father. Then, realizing that his choices were to either go with him or stand there alone in the middle of a mysterious wasteland, Gewey followed.

  They had walked for only a few minutes, with Gewey just a step behind Melek, when the silhouette of a small house appeared through the gloom. The wind had not yet picked back up to its former strength, much to Gewey’s relief.

  The house was modest, though it looked to be sturdily built, and the light glowing in its window was a welcoming beacon. Melek opened the door, and with a grand sweeping motion, invited Gewey to step inside.

  The interior was sparsely furnished. A small round table and two chairs were in the center of the room, while a small fire burned in the hearth on the far side. There was no bed or stove that Gewey could see. Nor was there a door leading to any other part of the house. It seemed that this was all there was.

  Gewey remained by the doorway taking in his surroundings until he felt Melek’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Please sit,” his host said. “I know that you have questions.”

  Gewey obeyed and sat at the table. From seemingly nowhere, a bottle of wine appeared in Melek’s hand, along with two crystal goblets. Gewey sprang to his feet.

  Melek laughed, an apologetic smile on his face. “I forget that you do not yet understand. I have been alone for a very long time and am unaccustomed to the sensitivities of others.” He sat opposite Gewey. “Please. Sit back down.”

  Gewey paused, took a deep breath, and then returned to his seat. “What is this place?”

  The smile slowly left Melek’s face. “Put simply, it is a prison.” He poured the wine and pushed a goblet across the table to Gewey. “One in which I have been kept for a very long time. And one in which you are now trapped as well.”

  Gewey was unsure what to say.

  “I know it is difficult to believe,” Melek continued. “When I was first sent here, I had a very hard time understanding what had happened to me. But I soon learned the truth. I was imprisoned in this wretched land - and there is no escape.”

  Gewey’s mind reeled. “What are you saying? That I can never leave here?” At once his thoughts turned to Kaylia and their unborn child. I need to get back to them, he thought desperately.

  “And you will,” said Melek.

  Gewey realized that Melek could hear his thoughts. The intrusion angered him.

  “Calm yourself, Darshan,” said Melek, sensing Gewey’s irritation. “I will leave your thoughts untouched if you wish. I merely wanted to say that now you are here, there is hope.”

  Gewey sipped his wine. He noticed that his hand trembling, but it was as much from anxiety and fear as it was from anger. “How did I get here?” he asked.

  Melek shrugged. “I would guess that you were struck by the Fangs of Yajna, just as I was.”

  Gewey furled his brow. He remembered a sharp pain in his shoulder just before finding himself in this place. He reached around to touch where it had struck, but there was no sign of a wound. “What are the Fangs of Yajna?” he asked.

  “A weapon,” Melek replied. His lips curled in disgust. “A weapon designed to kill our kind.”

  “Our kind?” Gewey looked at his companion in disbelief. “Are you saying that you’re a - ”

  “Yes,” he replied. “A god. But I am much more than that. I am the first. Born of the Creator. Made perfect by her divine grace. Betrayed by my children, and exiled here to Shagharath.”

  His final few words sparked a memory buried deep within Gewey. “Shagharath,” he whispered. “I have heard that name before. It was in some of the
stories my father told me as a child. He said it was a place of demons. A land of fire and pain where the wicked were sent to suffer eternal damnation.”

  “I can only assume you speak of a mortal father,” said Melek.

  “Yes,” replied Gewey. “His name was Harman Stedding. I have never met Gerath. Well - not really.”

  Melek sneered. “Of course you have met him. But in his cruelty, he robbed you of your memories.” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “But we will speak of that soon enough. As for what your mortal father told you – he was wrong. Shagharath does not punish the wicked. It punishes me.”

  The howl of the wind outside rose, carrying with it a succession of ghastly moans and suffering cries. Melek glanced up for a moment, then returned his attention to Gewey.

  “Why were you sent here?” asked Gewey. “And how do we get out?”

  “I was sent here for doing the will of the Creator,” he replied, his head held high. “By your father…my son…Gerath.”

  “Your son?”

  “Indeed,” he replied. “I am the father of all of the gods.”

  “Then who is the mother?” Gewey was trying hard to wrap his mind around what Melek was telling him.

  The man’s eyes grew sad and distant. “Her name was Ustrea. She was the love I held most dear – even above the Creator herself. She was my wife.”

  “But…but....” Questions were racing so rapidly through Gewey’s head, he could not seem to focus on a single one.

  Melek chuckled, shaking off his melancholy. “And as you were born from the union of the Creator and Gerath, that means I am both your brother, and your grandfather.”

  Gewey tried to put this confusing thought out of his head. “You say Gerath betrayed you?”

  Melek sighed. “They all did. But it was Gerath who convinced the others to follow and led them against me.”

  A deep frown formed on Gewey’s face. He was finding it hard to imagine that the being he’d met in the Black Oasis possessed a cruel or vicious nature. Surely Gerath was not capable of sending his own father to perdition. “So why did he turn against you?” he asked.

  “Jealousy,” Melek replied flatly. “He was always ambitious and strong. Gerath believed that he understood the Creator’s plan better than I. He wanted to guide heaven and earth in the manner that best suited his own desires.” He stood and walked over to the window. “He also coveted my power.”

  “But if you are both gods, wouldn’t you have equal powers?”

  Melek glanced over his shoulder. “I was the first, so I have no godly parents. My power comes directly from the source of all life. You are half born from the Creator as well. And though Gerath tried to ensure that you would never realize your full potential by erasing your memory of heaven, you do indeed have the same power as I.” He turned fully around. “And when we escape this place, I will show it to you. You will be able to create wonders such as you have never imagined.”

  Melek moved toward Gewey, his footsteps seeming to scarcely touch the floor planks. Holding out his hand, he smiled warmly. Gewey reached out without thinking and allowed Melek to lead him to the window.

  “For untold centuries I have been trapped here,” said Melek. “Because of the love I held for my children, I allowed myself to be deceived. Within you rests the strength to right the many wrongs done to us both. Together, we will do just that.”

  “I still don’t understand how you know so much about me,” said Gewey. He wasn’t ready to yield his trust just yet.

  Melek draped an arm around Gewey’s shoulder. “Tell me what you see.”

  He sighed and looked out of the window. “Nothing but dust, smoke and ash.”

  Melek nodded. “And where are you now?”

  “Inside your home?”

  “Good.” Melek removed his arm and took a step back. “And can you see me?”

  Gewey frowned. “What kind of question is that? Of course I can see you.”

  Melek chuckled. “What you actually see is a construct of your mind. I have no physical body in this place. And this house is no more real than my body.”

  The room shook from another powerful blast of wind. Once again, it was accompanied by the ghostly howls.

  “And I suppose that wasn’t real either?” said Gewey. He understood the concept. It wasn’t much different to when he was in the dream or spirit world.

  Melek shook his head sadly. “No. I am afraid those sounds are very real.”

  “What are they?”

  His face tightened. “Though this place was made for me, it was not made to keep out mortal souls. Though it is rare, occasionally one finds its way here.”

  Gewey thought he saw a tear form in Melek’s eye, but couldn’t be sure.

  “It drives them mad,” he continued in a half whisper. “They were never meant to be here. I have tried to help them, but they cannot accept that I exist. In time, they fade into nothing more than the hollow sounds of pain and confusion - their spirits forever lost.” He looked up at Gewey and forced a smile. “But you have nothing to fear. You will not dwell here long enough to endure the trials I have. And even if you were to do so, you are a god. It is beyond the power of Shagharath to drive you insane. Only mortal minds succumb to the madness in this place.”

  “Is there nothing we can do for them?”

  Melek shook his head and took a pained breath. “I have tried many times. They are beyond our reach.”

  “How many are there?”

  His face became awash with guilt. “I’ve forgotten. I am ashamed to say that I no longer pay them mind. When I finally realized it was hopeless, I did what I could to push them from my thoughts. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was too heavy a burden for my heart to bear.”

  “I understand,” said Gewey. He could see Melek’s pain reflected in his slumped posture. “Perhaps, after we escape, we can find a way to free them too.”

  Melek took a long deep breath. “You have a kind heart. I had forgotten what it is like to hear words of comfort spoken aloud. But before we leave, there are things you must know. Things only I can show you. And they will not be easy for you to see.”

  “What things?” asked Gewey.

  “I will show you what Gerath hoped you would never know.”

  He took hold of Gewey’s hand. “I need your help…and not just to leave Shagharath.”

  Chapter 6

  Lee sat beside a small fire, silently staring at the flames as they swirled and licked in a chaotic dance. The sound of laments forced their way into his ears, bringing a snarl of frustration.

  Millet, Jacob and several others had tried to speak with him, but he was in no mood for conversation. Gewey was dead, and now all hope was lost. More than that, he had sacrificed everything only to fail. His wife was dead - or worse. His son had grown up without a father, and he spent what could have been the best years of his life playing the eccentric noble in a shabby little farming village far from everything he loved.

  He glanced up at the nearby pavilion where Gewey’s body rested. Through the thin cloth he could see the silhouette of Kaylia kneeling beside her dead love. Many elves were gathered just outside the pavilion, but none dared to approach her. Kaylia had already attacked three of the desert elves merely for suggesting funeral rites, and only Linis’ quick reflexes had prevented her from actually killing them.

  By the time Lee and Linis had returned to camp after finding the Sharpstone villagers and convincing them to go back to their homes, Kaylia had already carried Gewey body’s back and was standing over him, eyes wild and knife drawn. She scarcely recognized anyone, and gave not the slightest reaction when the elves began erecting the pavilion around them.

  Linis approached, his eyes still red from weeping. He sat beside Lee and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “The desert elves are wondering what we are to do,” he muttered, as much to himself as to Lee. “Their spirit is broken.”

  Lee snorted. “I care nothing for the spirit of the des
ert elves. Let them do as they will.”

  “I understand your pain,” said Linis. “But now we must -”

  “We must do nothing.” Lee’s voice was a deep rumbling growl. “I will no longer take part in this bloody war.”

  “What will you do?” he asked, not sounding surprised.

  “I will go north,” Lee replied. “I will face the Reborn King.”

  “Then it is as I feared,” Linis remarked. “You intend to seek your own death. However, I think your son may object to such foolishness.”

  “I don’t care who objects.”

  “I see.” Linis paused. “Will you at least help us sort out what to do with Kaylia?”

  Lee shrugged. “What is there to sort out? The best thing you can do is leave her be. Otherwise she’ll gut you.”

  “Of that, I am certain,” agreed Linis. “But she will not allow anyone near her, or Gewey. She keeps muttering that he is not really dead. I think her mind may be gone.”

  “And what do you think I can do about it?” Lee snapped. “Her friendship with you is far stronger than it is with me. If she wants to sit here until Gewey’s body rots - then so be it.”

  “Have you no love for her?” Linis’ tone was disapproving. “Have you no compassion for -”

  Lee’s hand shot out and grabbed Linis roughly by the collar. Eyes ablaze, he pulled the elf nose to nose. “Don’t you dare speak to me of love and compassion, elf. I was robbed of my love.” Pushing Linis back, he returned his gaze to the fire. “And as for compassion - it was compassion that twisted my mind and made me abandon my family. Compassion for a child that now lies dead. Dead, just like the hope he was supposed to bring.”

  Any anger Linis might have felt over Lee’s outburst was well concealed. Instead, he stood slowly up and brushed himself off. “I will leave you to your despair,” he said quietly.

  Lee did not bother to respond, or even glance in his direction.

  Several minutes later Millet approached and sat down just across from Lee.

  “Linis tells me you intend to commit suicide,” he said. His voice was hard and accusing.