by Y W Lumaris
“He’s a god.”
“And mortal.”
Fen stared at him. “Ophelia, keep him back here.”
“I dunno, Fen, you could use the help.”
“Ophelia!”
The door burst open, screeching off the hinges and flying across the hall, one side barely missing Fen, the other smashing into Ophelia. Fen’s gut twisted and limbs went cold as he saw her, legs curling, as her body fell. Darting for her, he pushed at the door.
“Ophelia!” he screamed, heart thumping in sheer panic. “Hawk – help me.” The moment he began heaving, the heavy door lifted up and Ophelia rose, kicking the door aside with effort. He couldn’t see the wounds, but noticed something wet along her thorax. Dread filled him, but she immediately hushed his worry with thoughts to calm him.
I’m fine.
Gunshots echoed in the hall, splitting his attention, and he turned, light flashing from the barrel of Hawk’s rifle, the shots burying into a looming figure standing in the doors’ wake. Sensing magic pooling into a pending attack, Fen hastily conjured a shield up just in time before a gust of wind slammed into them. He leaned, arm shaking as he tried to keep the shield up against the powerful force.
Cernuin was here.
Chapter Sixteen
“Drop the shield, I got this!” Hawk hollered. Fen didn’t believe him, but he tasted copper and knew his limit was near.
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Fen, listen to him! You need to spare your strength.
Turning his eyes back to the god just beyond the shield, he felt a lump in his throat, the copper taste mingling with a sour one.
Standing near ten feet tall, skin akin to bark, with angular joints and a long neck, Cernuin’s face looked like a wooden mask with the eyes and mouth carved out. There were no eyeballs, nothing but a sheen of teal light, light that matched the wispy hair spilling down his back. Huge antlers with branch-like segments spiraled out from the crown of his head. A thick earthy smell filled the air – reminding Fen of summer. A strange feeling twisted in his gut.
The god remained still, hands – with long pointed fingers – hanging at his sides, legs in a stance that looked more reserved than offensive. Hawk shouted at him again, and Fen’s strength wavered.
He dropped the shield.
Hawk unleashed shot after shot into the figure standing before them. The twisted figure cried out, a voice that ripped at their ears. Fen clenched his teeth as Hawk released the trigger and gasped, ears bleeding. Cernuin’s chest wheezed as sap oozed from a wide mouth and poured through the new holes in his body.
Cernuin’s let out a low howl, sweeping his arms slowly, and a gust of air struck them. Fen raised his arms to shield himself, and in that moment, a strong scent of dew and wilderness hit him. His mind briefly saw the sunlight – pouring through thick leaves and raining down on wildlife. A man stood in a glade, straightening and grabbing a spear, appearing alert. His eyes were silver. His hair dark brown, body dark and rippling with strength and stamina. He ran toward something, just before a wall of trees burst apart and men with glinting steel armor appearing as if they’d come from another time entirely emerged – shooting blasters whose projectiles left burn marks into anything they touched.
“You see my youth.”
Fen jumped, staggering back and taking quick halting breaths. When did he hold his breath? His surroundings returned to the ruined cathedral. Hawk was staggering back and shaking his head from a daze, too. Ophelia’s mental link wavered with confusion.
Cernuin stood closer, moving achingly slow – as if each motion cost him dear energy. Yet his presence exuded power Fen had never felt before. This was over his head. What was he thinking?
Refocusing, Fen gritted his teeth and charged at him, summoning his own magic. Speed was his advantage. Just as he loosed a spell that struck Cernuin’s middle – knocking him back – the god’s vacant eyes stared into his own.
And again, his mind was pulled into another time, observing.
He watched as the young man stood in a familiar palace. His eyes widened. The marble floor. The vaulted ceiling. Archways intersecting – it can’t be! He turned on his heel, the sound of his breath echoing in the vast space, and down the hall, he saw the human from the forest now kneeling at a small blue crystal on a pedestal.
The man paused and lifted his silver eyes to meet Fen’s. Fen froze, and despite no other recognizable trait there, he could feel it in his soul. This was Cernuin, in the beginning.
“I’m going to fix this world,” the human barely whispered.
In that instant, the vision blurred, and Fen found himself back in the cathedral, right before a suction of air snapped and pain struck his limbs. He cried out, as his feet left the ground and his back smashed into a wall.
“Fucker!” Hawk’s voice rasped, and then his own voice cracked with a grunt of pain. Fen caught his feet and brought a shield just in time before Cernuin could send another blast of magic. The god was penetrating his mind with some spell – trying to confuse him.
Fen – we should stop fighting!
“Ophelia, now is clearly not the time!” Fen yelled through his teeth, staggering to his feet. The sheer amount of magic he had to funnel into the shield to protect against Cernuin’s energy was like trying to move a damned mountain. He wasn’t going to be able to hold it up much longer. His throat tightened, and that familiar copper taste stained his senses.
Hawk was barely to his feet when Fen dropped the shield and brought another spell to fight. This time when the god looked at him again, he could feel the ancient mind trying to break his.
“Fen! I think he’s good!” Ophelia yelled, suddenly appearing between them. Fen faltered, hastily dismissing the spell before he could release it and accidentally hit her. He stared at her, then at Cernuin – but the god raised his hand and he felt the pull of energy. The ground shook, and a large chunk fell from the ceiling and onto Ophelia.
“OPHELIA!” In a rage, Fen released his spell to attack the god, before rushing to push aside the rubble. Ophelia let out a moan, but didn’t move. She was dazed – her mental connection flickering. Fen turned and glared over his shoulder. Cernuin let out a low hum, a haunting sound in the chamber.
“Fen – he’s fuckin’ with my head,” Hawk groaned from where he was. Fen looked at him, then glanced up at the god, pulling his own magic to fight.
Then it snapped.
Cernuin lifted a long finger and pointed at the amulet, baring his sap covered teeth.
“Damned.”
The word was both a whisper and a hiss, and it chilled him to the bone. The god moved like mist, but each step sprouted a dozen roots. This would not be an easy win. How could it? Fen chided himself as he fought to put distance between himself and Cernuin.
He couldn’t spare enough thought for Hawk – he had to get the god to follow him somewhere he could corner him. It was risky. It was crazy. But it had to work.
“Only one of us leaves tonight alive!” he called out, just before the god lifted a hand. Roots sprang out from the wall and snatched him. He gasped as the wood wrapped around his neck and lifted him. Kicking his feet out, eyes bulging, he could see a blurry figure running in the distance. Steel glinted, and then a howl. The roots weakened, dropping Fen as Cernuin turned to face his other adversary: Hawk.
Hawk swung out his dagger. Why wasn’t he using the rifle?
Shit! He’s out of ammo! Fen swore, rubbing his neck and thinking quick. He threw a shield between Hawk and Cernuin, just before the god’s tendril-like roots could snatch him.
Just as he did, the god turned and threw his own hand up, and a wall of roots stabbed at him. Missing his core, but scraping through his side, his flesh ripped with bits of his robes. Howling in pain, he fell on his knees and clutched his bleeding side.
Fuck!
Pushing himself to his feet, knowing full and well he’d die under a moment of hesitation, Fen threw a wall between himself and the god, shielding against h
is advances. Just as Cernuin turned, the god summoned the tendrils and snatched Hawk. Fen yelled his name, but was stuck. He had to move quickly to avoid the roots twisting up toward his feet.
“Cernuin!” Fen called out, before the god could kill Hawk. Cernuin paused, but didn’t turn his eyes. “Cernuin of the Wildlands! Ancient of the gods!”
The god’s ear twitched, and he turned his head at last. Fen’s chest tightened, heart pounding so hard he could barely hear his thoughts. Even his fingers were going numb. The gaze of the god chilled him.
They were so empty.
“I am Fen, Court-Mage of Aklon!” he yelled. Suddenly, he realized how quiet it was outside the temple. His eyes remained focused. This was it. This was where he needed the god. He planted his feet, summoning the energy. His gut twisted.
“Fen....” the god narrowed his eyes. Then he pointed, and Fen could feel the weight of the medallion as if it grew three times. “...you...”
The tendrils suddenly weakened, and the aura of energy around the god waned. He’s realized I’m the one who did this to him. The mage could have laughed.
“This is your grave!” Fen yelled, ignoring the tear inside his side, and sent out the energy. The force slammed into Cernuin – creating a bright light. Hawk was ejected from him, crashing to the ground near Ophelia’s form. Fen screamed, both in pain and glory, as he watched the god writhe before him.
Something came over him as he watched the god buckle. Thrill filled him as the god arched in apparent pain. Blue flames engulfed him, the purple magic snapping between them. Soon, bone appeared, and Fen’s insatiable thirst for its death overtook him completely.
His shout turned into a maniacal laughter, eyes wide and unable to move as he watched the tormented soul bend under the force of his magic. The cathedral shook viciously, rubble fell, and the bell suspended far above in a tower somewhere moved.
It rang.
Just a single, profound note. The smell of burning flesh and wood filled the air, and Fen’s body could no longer take it. He could hear Ophelia’s groggy voice.
Fen? Fen! No!
The magic bounced back like a slingshot, and it struck him hard. His bones hurt, twisting, and his scream turned bestial. His hands turned into long claws, and long blue feathers crowded along his elongated limbs where they may have turned into wings, but scars stood in their place. He cried out in anguish as his body tripled in size. A tail smashed what remaining altars stood, and his neck elongated. What was left of his consciousness faded as Instinct took over.
His now-black eyes locked onto Hawk, a lust to kill taking over.
Hawk sat, clutching his shoulder where he’d hit the ground. His stunned face stared at Fen in sheer horror.
* * *
Ladon fired his last round into the gut of an ashinari. The weapon clicked, making a hollow sound as it alerted ammo depletion. He watched as the creature whined and fled, stumbling as it clutched its wound. He drew his dagger, eyes scanning the area. More than half of the enemy forces were fleeing now; the rest lay dying or dead in heaps around him. It smelled awful, and the air was stiff with an unnatural coldness. He limped, leg aching, armor glistening with blood of friend and foe alike. He found one of his captains. It was Rox, tending a wound of one of her men. The two looked at him at the sound of his approach.
Battle weary, but still strong.
“Find a bike,” he ordered, “and pass along the order to find and prepare to burn our dead. Leave the enemy bodies to rot.”
Rox nodded, but watched him in concern. “We haven’t heard anything from Hawk and Court-Mage Fen. Found the rover near the cathedral, but we have a bad feeling about that cathedral.”
Ladon’s mouth went dry, but he kept a firm look. “His radio went out. They’re likely inside.”
“Sir...do you think Cernuin really is in there?”
Of course he is. But the general didn’t answer right away. He looked at the soldiers gathering around. He waited until he was sure he had their attention, or enough of them and word would spread.
“Court-Mage Fen and Captain Hawk are in the temple. I am not going to ask all of you to join me, but I urge anyone willing to come along. We don’t know what goes on beyond those doors. I need a group of you to come with me to storm it, so if they fail we may at least extract their bodies...or take over and finish the job.”
His soldiers laughed and readied their weapons. Rox rolled her eyes, tossing him a magazine.
“Reload your damn gun. You know we’ll follow ya til the end.”
Ladon grinned. He couldn’t have asked for a better unit.
Reloading his weapon, Ladon led the group, charging up the steps toward the temple. His heart thumped, blood rushing. As concerned as he was, adrenaline continued to pulse through from the battle. Still alive, still fighting, and – he held up a hand, halting his men behind him.
A light flashed, alien screams – painful, agonizing screams – bellowing from within. It chilled him. It unnerved his soldiers. Clenching his jaw, Ladon fought to regain his confidence. Whatever it was, it was not normal or natural. His very bones could feel it.
Ophelia? He tested the mental connection. He’d never tried before, too miffed about it to bother. Now it seemed necessary. He could sense her, but she wasn’t responding. As he marched up the stairs, more cautiously than before, his soldiers close behind, he pried again. Ophelia? You can hear me, can’t you?
He heard a groggy response, muddled colors flashing in his mind’s eye.
She’d been knocked out.
Is Fen alive?
Fen...? He...
She disconnected from him, but not without leaving a dreadful feeling in her mind’s wake. Ladon started and ran up the stairs, calling his soldiers to follow. They stampeded up to the doors. Kicking the nearest open, he readied his gun and bolted indoors.
All he could hear was the clamor of footsteps pounding after him, his men sticking close. They readied their weapons. Rounding the corner and reaching the main hall, he skidded to a halt, those behind halting too. They gawked at the creature raising to its hinds, a long wispy blue and brown tail flicking. The feathers were a robin-egg blue, with hazel brown tips faded into a pattern. The arms may have supposed to have been wings, but scars replaced wings, with claws stretching out, and a flat-faced head snarled at something toward the windows.
Ladon’s eyes flickered to the creature standing near a sizzling heap – then he registered the woodsmoke scent clinging to the place and saw Hawk’s form, sitting with his mouth agape in a silent scream. His eyes were locked, unseeing – something magic and invisible held him still and helpless before the beast.
“HAWK! MOVE!” Ladon bellowed, aiming his rifle.
The creature paused, head snapping in his direction. Ink-black eyes gazed at him.
“FEN!” Ophelia’s voice sounded right after, the large spider flinging between Hawk and Fen. Ladon barely moved his gun to redirect the shot.
“ARMS DOWN!” he shouted before any of his soldiers could shoot. Someone shot, though.
The beast’s back arched as the bullet hit. Yet it seemed unfazed – twisting round and letting loose a terrifying screech. Ladon paled at the sight. This...was Fen?
The spider launched at Fen, knocking him off balance and flailing.
Ladon, get everyone out of here! Now!
Ophelia—
NOW.
Ladon turned. “Fall back!” he bellowed, making the motion. Confused, his soldiers obeyed. He turned and ran for Hawk. The spider fought the feathered beast, trying to use webs to tie it down, but wasn’t fast enough for at least one of Fen’s arms. Ladon slung Hawk’s arm across his shoulder, ducking as the two giants fought behind them. He helped Hawk stand hastily and, as fast as they could, they made their way for the exit.
Hawk fumbled, lips numb. “F-Fen’s a fuckin’ monster!”
Flashes of Fen in his memory, sneering at talk of being a harpy, hit the general. The lean, beautiful young man, was exactly what
he’d warned in the beginning. Cursed. Ladon didn’t respond, pausing to keep hidden behind a column when Fen had thrown Ophelia off him. The harpy screeched. Daring a look at the scene, Ladon’s gut flipped. The harpy wasn’t in peak health – one of his arms was held close like a wounded animal, leaving movement awkward and clumsy. But the eyes were livid and mindless, sharp teeth snapping at any part of the spider it could reach.
Hawk seemed just as entranced by the fight, when the two watched Ophelia fighting tirelessly against the beast, until finally crawling atop his back and spinning webs around him. She ran around, faster and more agile than the harpy. Soon, he was tied too tightly, and fell over.
Ladon broke his gaze away to help Hawk the rest of the way out. Once in the bright, smelly outdoors, he handed Hawk’s blabbering, stunned form to a medic.
“What happened in there?” Rox asked earnestly. “Are we done here?”
Ladon, panting, gazed back at the temple.
I have him bound. He’s slipping into unconsciousness. My venom won’t kill him, but he will be out for several days. Long enough to get him back to the Tower in Haven.
“We’re done here.”
Chapter Seventeen
Fen woke, a soft, silk-covered pillow beneath his head. No, not just one – several. Silken blankets were piled atop him. The smell of blossoms and cocoa greeted him. Was he back in Aklon? Had it been a dream?
We don’t have cocoa in Aklon.
He stretched, relishing the smooth fabric against his cool, smooth skin – save for the claws, the scars on his arms. The comfort ended as pain seared in wounds in his side and arm. His muddled brain still didn’t understand why he was smelling cocoa or in pain, until lying there for a few full minutes.
Memories rushed back. Eyes snapping open, he sat bolt-up, gasping.
“Whoa there – Fen!”
Ladon’s startled voice sounded just as his hands met his shoulders to ease him back into the pillows. Fen panted, wincing in pain, and stared wide-eyed at the face. He was barely recognizable. The beard was shaved off, leaving a strong jaw in its wake, and that green, glowing vein on his left cheek starkly apparent.