The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  They are afraid, Arn thought but of what the King did not know?

  The Queen also saw them hesitate they do not attack they have fear.

  Ral was the closest to them and seeing his chance he rushed at the tall Wormrow and drove his dagger into his chest, the creature was caught off guard and died before he could fall to the floor. The young Prince quickly withdrew his bloody weapon and waited for the other little monsters to avenge their leader, but they did not. They stood still frozen in fear and after a moment or two more they suddenly turned and hurried away into the tunnel they came out of.

  Ral could not control himself and shouted out the victory cry of his people, it echoed down the many tunnels surrounding them and soon faded away. Ishea did not want to admit it but she was proud of her son.

  He acted foolish, she thought, but he acted with bravery, and there was nothing more important to a Norgonie then bravery.

  Arn saw it differently, youth is foolish, he thought, they think danger is a game of Chance-cards, and he remembered his own childhood and how he would race after death and it made him seem very old. So he held his head high and moved into the tunnel on the right and as he did he had to admit that Ral did kill the Wormrow with skill and he drove his dagger deep, and for a moment he was proud to have such a strong son.

  High above them Valen was slowly making his way downward. The thick vegetation had cracked the many levels of the upper portion of the great city and the Caladone warrior made use of them to climb downwards. It was slow going at first because the huge twisted vines made it difficult to move, but as he descended lower the light from above grew dimmer and with it the plant growth. Soon he was free to move about on the stone and steel flooring but he still had to keep a careful lookout for openings that would cause him to plummet to his death. He managed to hold onto the broken bone weapon that he had used to escape the Screechers, it was not much but it was all he had. But he was lucky in one respect for the vegetation that grew around him yielded fruit that was not unpleasant to the taste and he filled his empty belly till he could eat no more. Water was another problem for although there were pools of the life giving liquid about they were brackish in color and filled with crawling things. But the young warrior had gone much longer without water and he did not complain.

  He now sat on a twisted bit of root that protruded upwards from a large break in the floor and held the broken bone weapon in his hand. He ran his fingers over the pointed end of the large femur and decided it was not as sharp as it could be so he began scraping it against a plate of pitted metal near where he sat. As he did he looked over and saw a small furry creature slowly poking his head out of a hollow limb of a tremendous tree that must have risen up many levels from below. The creature was about the size of his fist with large hind legs and smaller arms at its front, it also had very large eyes and ears and a long twisted tale. It sat there for a moment or two trying to decide if he should run or come closer because in the animal world there are just two rules, can I eat it or will it eat me?

  Valen could see that the small mammal was not a threat so he smiled at the fur-covered creature, “you have found a very good home little one”, he said softly, “around you is food to eat and you are too small for the Gods to notice”. He put down his bone weapon and took a small red fruit from an overhanging limb and tearing it in two he handed one half to his little companion. The creature hesitated for a moment or two then it came out of its burrow and sniffed the ripened offering, it did this several times then reached out with its tiny fingers and took the fruit from the human.

  “I must seem a God to you” the young warrior laughed, “but I am just an Outcast” and hearing his own words it started him thinking. If I am his God and I pray to other Gods does that mean that those same Gods look up to ones greater then themselves? This in turn made him think even deeper, and maybe those Gods higher up worship stronger beings who pray to more powerful deities and then those build temples too...? He stopped thinking for he knew that it was a mind-journey without endings and he did not want to start down that perplexing road.

  Valen took the bone weapon in his hand and stood up proudly, he had a path to follow, for his enemy was still out there and he would not stop till he saw it destroyed. So he placed the other half of the red fruit near his furry friend and began looking for a way downward. And as he did he heard a great rumbling from above and glancing up he felt water dripping over him and although he could not see the sky he knew that Dietas the Goddess of water was pouring rain from her jug and giving life to the earth. And even though he was the Supreme Being of small furry creatures he still got very wet.

  Far below the Caladon warrior the King of the Almadra would have traded a wagonload of Rimar horn for the cooling rain. The corridor now felt like the inside of an Ironworkers furnace, and all about were more Wormrow remains giving homes to crawling insects and small spiders. The walls of the narrow tunnel were too hot to touch and the souls of the Nomads thick boots began to burn as if he was treading on hot coals. And with the heat the Nomads mind began to wander and thoughts that would not have been there in the cool Outlands now danced in his head like embers from a campfire.

  Is this the pathway to the pit of Marloon? The King asked his mind, perhaps I have died and my soul has been sent to that burning land? It was something that he could except for he knew he had betrayed his mate and the Gods would punish him for that. But he did not want to leave his world without finding Andra so he offered a small prayer to Nor the powerful God who guards the entrance to the Underworld and the Pit of Marloon. If I am dead let my soul wander this place till I find her, then you may feast on my flesh. It was another vow that added to the many that he had already offered.

  Beside the King the Queen of the Norgonie also prayed, but her God was Arm-Ra and he did not look kindly on weakness, so she whispered that the heat become greater to prove her strength and have the great God take notice of her life. This is like a night in the Icetime, she boasted, I wished I had brought my thick robe! But deep down she wished that she were back at the pool of the Death Shadows and feeling the sacred water on her tortured skin.

  Ral did not pray but held his head high for he did not want to show weakness to his father and mother, they think I have been defeated, he thought, soon I will show them I have not!

  They continued on in silence not wanting to speak and waste their energy, soon there was very little light from the Starfall and they had to grope there way using their weapons to feel the edges of the tunnel walls. Now and then they tripped over a broken skeleton or slipped on the crushed body of some slithering creature. After a time the tunnel opened up into a large chamber and they found themselves standing before a great iron door forged with an image that Arn knew all to well.

  Nor, he told his mind, and there could be no mistake for it was plain to see that the iron face had three large eyes, two for the daylight and one for seeing at night. The head also possessed two great ears much like the Nightflyers of the Outlands, and having such ears Nor could hear the tinniest sound and know that a condemned souls might be trying to escape the burning Pit.

  Two huge Drog like animal statues stood crouching on either side of the entrance, they were twice the size of a Nomad and had great jaws filled with teeth the size of daggers. These were the Soul Chasers, the furious beasts who feasted on the flesh of the dead.

  And again Arn thought he had died and that he was being led to the Afterlife, but then why did he still hear Andra calling to him? Was she also dead and waiting for him beyond the door?

  If she has passed from this world, he thought then I would follow her to the next. And true to his word he began to pull on the huge iron portal.

  Seeing the image Ishea also thought that the Afterlife lay on the other side, she knew the guardian of the gate by another name but it still sent a chill up her spine in spite of the terrible heat. Now when she saw the King trying to open the entrance she went to his side and put her hand on his arm.

  “W
e cannot go further,” she said softly.

  But Arn simply looked into her green eyes, “you may go back and I will not think less of you, but I must go on”, and pulling with all the massive strength in his great arms and wide back the door made a creaking sound and slowly opened. When the gap was wide enough for a man to enter the King took one last look at the Queen.

  She once held my heart he thought May she fined her way to the Golden Hall. And then he went inside.

  For a moment Ishea listened to her body for it told her that she must rest now and find a way out of this place, you have done all you could, turn back now and return to your people. But then she began to listen to her mind and it told her something else, you made a promise and you must keep that vow. Then at last she listened to her heart and it told her to stand beside the man she loved.

  Now there is a saying among the wise men and women of the Outlands.

  When your body speaks you forget your mind.

  When your mind speaks you forget your heart.

  When your heart speaks you forget everything.

  But Ishea had never listen to closely to the wisdom of the ages for she was a woman of action and she let her heart guide her in matters of right and wrong, so the Queen of the Norgonie followed the King into the unknown.

  Ral stood and watched as his father and mother moved into the entrance and for a brief time he was content to let them go, but then he realized that for all the bragging in his mind he did not want to remain behind. So making up an excuse that he wished to see the Pit of Marloon for himself he gripped his dagger and passed through the great door.

  Once through the iron gateway the trio found themselves at the entrance to a massive enclosure, it was cut from solid rock by a means they did not understand for it looked like the walls had been melted and not dug by pick or shovel. The air was thick with smoke and fumes and it smelled heavily of death and decay. There were great columns supporting the vaulted roof and they like the walls rippled with molten layers that looked like wax dripping down a candle. And along with the fumes a reddish glow emanated from the openings and having traveled to the Land of Smokes the King knew that it was molten rock.

  The eternal fires of the Pit, the King thought.

  Looking beside him he saw a great iron plate supported by two massive steel chains, the surface of the plate was covered in more strange writings and symbols that had no meaning to the Outlander, but as he looked at it he suddenly realized exactly what it was.

  The Voice of Doom!

  The huge gong was the height of three tall warriors and pitted with age, and in the dim light of the Starfall it held a great fear for the Norgonie Queen, when the voice speaks the dead shall rise. It was the story from her childhood and try as she might to dismiss it as a foolish tale to frighten children a chill still rose up her back.

  Ral also felt fear, for although he was a strong a brave warrior of the Norgonie he still carried the primitive dread of the unknown, and this iron symbol held his deepest superstitions and dark beliefs. But still he did not show his fear on his expression.

  But as Arn looked at the instrument of the Gods his face showed what he was thinking.

  It IS the Pit of Marloon, the King thought, now I know that I am truly dead, for there lying on the cracked and broken floor were the remains of ancient warriors.

  They lay row upon row; their mummified bodies still wearing heavy armor and each one had a strange looking weapon in their huge hands. They surely numbered in the thousands perhaps more for the light was dim and only a small section of the undead could be seen, they were covered in webbing and scurrying over them were millions of colorless spiders. These bore a strong resemblance to the Lurkers in the Darkness, the crystal spiders that gave rebirth to the Nomads, healed their wounds and increased their strength. The huge warriors lay as if to sleep and never too waken. But there was one more thing that the Outlanders could see clearly.

  They were all giants.

  Arn was tall for his kind, but even the least of the dead warriors was two heads taller then the King, and others were far more than that, and looking at them the Nomad knew that the ancient legends were true.

  The giants of the earth! He thought this is where they rest.

  But if Arn had looked closer he would have seen that not all of them had sunken faces or skin the color of tanned Rimar hide, some appeared as if they still might awake if the Gods so deemed. And gazing at the vast underground graveyard the King thought hard on the stories of his past then uttered a word that was forbidden by his ancestors long ago.

  “Honnagar”, he whispered.

  And as soon as that name passed his lips the King knew that he should have never spoken that terrible word, but believing himself dead and facing the Pit of Marloon he forgot the laws of his tribe.

  I am dead now, he thought, I will never see Moonbud again, the feeling that his mate lay ahead of him was just a trick of the Gods, a further punishment for his betrayal to the one he loved. And knowing that he would never hold Andra in his arms again made the rage burn in his mind and being a great warrior of the Almadra he raised his war-ax high above his head and called out in a voice loud enough that the Gods could hear.

  “HONNAGAR!” he screamed.

  And then a madness rose up in him, it was not the killing rage of battle but something far more violent, it was the madness that comes over a man when he has lost his mate. The vengeful mind-shroud that fills the soul with a pain far beyond that of the senses and knowing that he would never again see the Outer Rim girl again made him lose all fear and strike out in hate.

  He took his war-ax and struck the great gong by his side and once more screamed out the name, “Honnagar!”

  Again and again he beat his weapon on the pitted face of the Voice of Doom and with each strike the air filled with a mighty sound that made the Norgonie Queen cover her ears and bend her knees.

  He has left this world and entered the land of madness, she thought.

  The King continued to beat his ax against the Iron Voice and all the while he called out “Honnagar!” over and over again, then at last he had spent all his fury and strength and let the ax fall from his hand. He stood there like an Outland God and stared into the dim light of the Chamber. She is gone, he thought, I am alone. Then in a voice barely above a whisper he spoke. “Let it end” he said.

  We cannot be sure if the eternal Gods did indeed hear the Almadra King sacrilege but some lessor God of the Pit must have for there came a sound that made the blood run cold in Arns heart. At first it seemed like a soft wind had entered the burning crypt but there were no openings for air to enter or exit. It was more like the whistling of the night breeze over the grain fields on the Sirolian Plains. But then the Nomad realized just what he was hearing.

  Deep breathing.

  At first he thought it was a trick of a demon hiding in the darkness or an echo of their presents and multiplied by the walls surrounding them. But he quickly realized that this was not some jest of nature for his breath was hard and fast while the chamber sound was slow and labored.

  Ishea also heard the breath-wind and unconsciously she stood close to Arn. The Queen had faced many enemies both human and devil, she had killed many Sagar cats and other great creatures that dwelled in the Caltarine Forrest. But those were dangers that she knew and could fight with spear and claw, now she was faced with something that she could not understand and it made her heart turn cold.

  Arn has summoned the demons of the dark, she thought, and she began to utter a saving prayer to Arm-Ra.

  Ral was also afraid but his face never showed it, he simply stood with his feet braced and holding his dagger hard in his strong hand, ready to fight and die like any warrior of the Norgonie.

  Let them come, he told his heart, let them come and fight.

  The breathing grew louder and soon it was joined by a rustling sound like a venom-viper moving in the undergrowth. A creaking of metal on metal, rusted and aged joined that sound, and in the
dim light of the forgotten crypt the King saw something begin to rise up from the dusty floor. At first Arn thought it was a trick of the light or perhaps a phantom born from the heat and thirst. But after shaking his head and rubbing the back of his hand over his tired eyes he saw that he was not dreaming and he cursed himself for speaking the forbidden name for he watched as the dead began to rise.

  The dust of countless ages started to fall from their ancient armor and the small creatures of the darkness that had once made their homes in the webbing of the sleeping giants began to scurry away. The dead men rose up one by one, great warriors of the past now living in the present, huge all-powerful and supreme, the long sleep now over. They numbered in the hundreds and more, each one the worth of a dozen warriors of the Outlands, their rusty armor was thickly fashioned with spikes protruding from elbows and legs. It covered them from head to foot and would easily turn the blades of war-axes and projectiles from Chamber rifles. Their faces could hardly be seen for large helmets covered most of their features but what flesh could be noticed had scarring from fires and steel. They also possessed strange looking eyes, for they seemed to have no pupil or coloring, they were pale and lifeless like the eyes of a serpent. There were deep marks on their body plating and this told the King that they had seen many battles and fought many enemies.

  Honnagar, he thought, the Giants of the Earth.

  He watched in awe as the warriors began to move towards him, their feet pounded on the dusty ground and it shook the chamber like a passing herd of Rimar. They did not speak or show any emotion as they lumbered to where the King stood unmoving, they seemed like men in a trance, marching without knowing, unaware or uncaring of their surroundings, following a silent command that only they could hear.

  Ishea stood close to Arn, and seeing the oncoming warriors and knowing that they could never overcome such an enemy her mind whispered a prayer to Arm-Ra, if now is the time of my death, let me die beside him.