by Kyle Olson
The god-made glacier crumbled and toppled, despite efforts to shore it up.
Air rushed into her lungs and she found her path out, escaping the crush of ice by bounding high.
Life!
Below, those who had sought to imprison her.
Mewling, simpering creatures.
Sejit landed heavy and skid, never faltering in her poise or balance as she came to a stop. The jackal was one good swipe from death, but the wolf, however, looked as if he’d need a bit more work. She lunged at him, a bolt of lightning.
No tricks of ice or magic, he had to dodge.
Perhaps he was not as strong as she’d first thought if he had no more walls to attempt to imprison her.
Sejit could taste victory upon her sandpapery tongue.
She let loose a flurry of attacks, striking from this angle and that, from the left and right, fast as instinct allowed. His defense was sloppy, far too sloppy! The only time she didn’t land a blow was when that black jackal timed her flame just so, driving her back. Even still, the wolf was haggard.
He slipped on his own ice.
She could see the attack from the jackal coming, but no. The end had come.
A searing jet pierced her like a laser, but Sejit’s strike did not waver. The blade came down, biting into his neck, gnawing through fur and skin and muscle and bone. His head pinwheeled away from the body. Before the carcass could slump to the ground she skewered it through the still-beating heart, turning the organ into a pulpy mess.
Withdrawing her weapon, the body slumped, lifeless. She turned her attention towards the head.
Another jet ran her through, and a third and fourth, staggering her, pushing her away from the head.
Its tongue lolled out. The raw meat was already growing over with skin. Just one more blow and he’d be dead. She pressed forward, polearm held high, enduring the fusillade from the jackal, until she was more charred hole than lion. The eyes in the head pleaded with her.
She ignored them.
His head split in two. Then in four. Eight.
She dashed away, taking the time to mend her own wounds.
Those of the wolf did not. Head and body lay still.
A girl, a mortal, no, a sphinx, shouted something. No matter.
One down. Victory flushed her body, sustained and primed her for more—but wounds were slow to heal. Too slow. This needed to end.
In a mighty roar she charged, covering the gap between herself and the jackal in a flash. Even still, she took another lance straight through the chest and neck, robbing her of speed, buying the jackal a moment to avoid the decapitating swing.
Like the wolf, the jackal was slow. Without their tricks, they were nothing. Nothing compared to her! Soon, so soon these obstacles would be gone. Soon, she could continue on her path to leave nothing left.
Back and forth, forth and back, the jackal danced and weaved, but Mun’skit bit the bones of her legs several times— opportunity! The tiny, black-furred creature’s leg gave out when she tried to leap away. She fell. Godsmetal gleamed.
“Ma, stop!”
Mun’skit fell limp. All its power had gone and gravity alone was not enough to finish the deed. The jackal skittered back to her feet and got away on an awkward, three-legged gait.
Sejit couldn’t care less. The whole of her had snapped to attention.
No, no it can’t be. No, no no!
“What are you doing?” Said the voice, a perfect match for his. His face and body, his hair, but the scent, the scent was wrong. He was wrong. Was he? “You’re better than this!”
He ran towards her. There was someone else behind him, someone she couldn’t bother with, not now.
She should’ve cut the imposter down. Should’ve, but…
A trick! Kill him!
It… can’t be. Can it?
Hope was a dangerous thing, especially from the depths of the pit. Hope could make her forget the obvious. Make her want to forget, lest the hope fade away.
No! You fool!
The cage door slammed shut.
“Tarkit!”
Sejit was in command of herself once more. To hear his voice and hold him and be with him once more. She lowered his head for him, allowed his arms to wrap around her neck, nuzzled cheek to cheek. Streams of happy chuffs escaped her throat, even as the lioness yowled in frustration at being locked up once more.
“What have you done?” He repeated, this time in a whisper.
“This world is beyond redemption,” she said, voice rumbling like distant thunder, “What they did… What I thought they did…”
“Only because you’re destroying it!”
The battlefield.
She took in the destruction and chaos. The body of the wolf, Ifon. She’d finally done it, killing him. Yet… she felt hollow. It wasn’t the way she wanted to defeat him. With his death, the last of the snows ended. With her mind intact, the blood rains did not resume.
She acknowledged Tess as the jackal limped towards her. They said nothing, but exchanged a look.
Then, there was the unimportant one.
Yf.
Yf had assumed his original form, a lean, yet muscular man with long, dark hair. Sophia, too, came out of her hiding spot.
All converged upon Sejit.
“Why are you here?” Sophia said, gawking at Yf, then Tarkit, “How are you here?!”
Tess and Yf locked eyes, Yf’s somber expression set like concrete.
“Yes, how?” Sejit said, poking at Tarkit with her nose, “You were dead. You should be dead! What is this miracle?”
“Well…”
“Wait a minute,” Sophia mumbled, eyes flying wide in revelation, but before she could continue, Yf’s hand clamped across her mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t. Not yet.”
“What? What is wrong?”
“Nothing,” Yf said, quickly.
Sophia tried to say something through the hand covering her face. Yf jabbed her in the ribs before letting her go and whispering, “You will doom us all. Stay silent. This is our only chance!”
The lioness within growled and bashed at the door. Set me free! Can you not see what they are doing to you! Can you not feel the intrusion within us!
“What do you mean? Yf, I am assuming you brought my son to me? How? Did the second time work? It must have!”
He sighed, rubbing at his temples, “I really didn’t want to get involved, but yes, before they left they asked I try again.”
Sophia bristled in silence. It shouldn’t bother her, what they were doing, but it did. Compared to everything the gods had done, to things she’d witnessed first-hand, this was small-time. It was even averting a catastrophe, a true apocalyptic catastrophe. It ought to be a good thing, averting the end of the world! Yet it was so… wrong.
Wio. That man was Wio. How could Sejit not tell the difference? Even if not as a goddess, then as his mother.
Gods above and below, it was vexing. Their whole purpose this day was to end her rampage, and they did. Or, no, that was it, wasn’t it? It hadn’t ended yet. It’d merely been put on pause. They were using him to end it. End Sejit while her guard was down.
She wanted to shout the truth, even though it’d damn them all. Was it loyalty? Did the thought of tampering with the gods and their children bother her that much? Or something else?
Was this the, or one of the, actions that’d bring about an end from her visions?
Her whole body tensed and worried.
What do I do?
Pacing in place, her foot brushed against a military rifle, its owner nowhere to be seen. She could pick it up and end the charade. Set the demon loose once more, revel in the truth.
Questions bounced around in her skull over and over in an attempt to divine an answer. None would come.
Sophia reached down to scoop up the weapon, caressing the cold metal.
This is it, isn’t it?
The right thing, or the right thing. Sejit seemed so happy the way she rubbed her ch
eeks and chin all over Tarkit.
Her fingers clenched into a fist and she straightened up. The rifle remained on the ground. She couldn’t bear to look at Sejit. A goddess deserved better.
“It’s a miracle, I suppose,” Tarkit said, stroking Sejit’s head and rubbing behind her ears, “It’s the only way to end this.”
“The only way,” Sejit repeated, softly, “I see.”
The imitation of Tarkit placed a hand across the bridge of her nose, “Isn’t it time to put an end to this?”
“Everything I have worked for is undone. What is there to return to? I can’t, not again. I am so… tired.”
“I believe Yosel would welcome a god, especially one that defeated Ifon,” he said, indicating towards the corpse.
Sejit mulled his words over. Something was wrong with what he said.
The lioness hurled itself bodily against the door. The pins holding it shut clattered and bent. Kill the imposter! Quickly, it has come for us. It is inside us!
And then, Sejit snarled, “Who are you?”
“What? Ma, what’s wrong?”
“Tarkit would… would…”
Sejit’s eyes went glassy, unfocused. She whirled to face Tess, but the jackal was in her own world.
No! No, kill her!
Or rather, in her world.
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
Tess had found a gap in the fence, widened by the lion’s inner turmoil, her two halves. The gamut of Sejit was hers for the pillaging. She’d won. She ought to be thrilled, she ought to be excited! When she’d rampaged through Phytos’ mind and soul, she tore him apart with glee, eagerly condemning him to oblivion.
Instead, she clamped her eyes shut and grit her teeth as she tore at yellows and blues, greens and purples, throwing great handfuls of each into the abyss.
It must be done! It must!
Sejit twitched. She stumbled. She tried to speak, but no words would come.
The lion spilled to the ground, splayed out on a side.
Tess dragged herself up to Sejit as she twitched and gasped.
This is the right thing, she told herself over and over.
This is the only way I can defeat her. Soon as she discovers Tarkit is not Tarkit, we’re fucked harder than before. It must be this way. It must.
The vibrance of Sejit had been reduced to a choice few remaining aspects that shone brilliant and unspoiled. But even those would have to go for the deed to be done. Tess hesitated.
With a respite from the assault upon her soul, Sejit fell still, save for the heaving of her chest.
“You,” Sejit gasped, tapping the last reserve of strength within her, “How’d you, how’d you get in…”
“A moment of weakness was all it took.”
Sejit let out a laugh, an actual laugh, though it had been short and coarse. “Tarkit. How like you to use him against me. …How like me to fall for it, when I knew…”
“…I’d rather not have.”
“Who are you, really?” Sejit asked, to no one in particular.
“Wio,” said the person who had formerly assumed the shape of Tarkit. Now they were as they were, an unremarkable woman of red hair.
“…I see.”
Unbidden, Wio continued: “After your first attack, Daontys sent me away. We were to encourage other lesser gods to join our pantheon, but then…” Her fists balled up, “We lost our purpose, thanks to you. Most of us were overjoyed to have another pantheon, another place. So much for that.”
“So much for that,” Sejit sighed out.
Wio glowered at the fallen god, “He had sent me to Yf to learn why he supported Sejit, but…”
“I found Wio instead,” Yf added, approaching the group, “Seeing as how she is who she is, she sort of counts as everything at once. I regret it took as long as it did to get here. So much death…”
Sejit’s eyes closed like slow-drawn shades, “So much for not wanting to be involved…”
“Couldn’t see you destroy the world,” Yf said, a difficult voice alongside a difficult expression, “But… I suppose it’s finished now. We can all go home.”
Sophia, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. She was staring at Tess like she had committed some unspeakable evil. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, is it?”
Yf furrowed his brow, “What do you mean? Tess?”
“She’s right,” Tess said, nuzzling her nose against Sejit’s neck, “It has to be this way.”
Sejit did not struggle. “I… know. I am tired. I want to rest. Please.”
To sweep away the rest of the spectrum into the abyss was one way, but, Tess knew, that was no way for Sejit to go. At her feet, a solution, a thousands-year-old promise.
In silent acknowledgment, Tess shifted her form and picked up Mun’skit.
“What? No! Tess, no!”
“Rest well, my friend,” said Tess, lifting the poleaxe with the slow solemnity of an executioner.
“Friend. Ha ha… Yes, you were. Thank… You.”
“Stop her!”
By all measures, it was a feeble, slow swing. But it was enough. The weight of that which was lost was enough.
The mighty lioness, The Indomitable, had found her peace.
“What have you done?” Yf gasped, “It wasn’t supposed to be—”
Two spears of fire impaled him, dropping him to his knees. The ground bubbled.
A long burst of hot lead tore through Tess, sparing Yf as the half-jackal staggered.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Sophia shrieked.
Tess wanted to laugh but couldn’t find the will or power. Her batteries had been run down, her tank was nearly empty. “As long as we live, people will never be free.”
Yf managed to drag himself back to his feet, but only just, “You, you were planning on killing us all along, weren’t you?”
“…Not all along.”
“Crazy bitch!”
A great pillar of flame surged underfoot, but Yf was quick in disappearing through a portal.
“Great,” Tess sighed, “Now I’ll have to track Yf down…”
A shame, since we were all so close, once.
“I won’t resist,” said Wio, standing idly, a distant, pleading smile on her lips.
Sophia’s mouth hung open, “What? Why!”
“As you wish.”
Without any resistance, the flame of her life had been extinguished. A pile of ash marked where a god, even a small one, once stood.
Thus, only Tess and Sophia remained on the hellscape.
“What the fuck is wrong with everyone!” Sophia screamed in impotent rage, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”
“What will you do now?” Tess asked, pausing to stroke Sejit’s head one last time, “Try to kill me?”
She was answered by another burst from the rifle, “I’ll do more than try!”
The air shimmered. Sophia fired again and again until the magazine ran dry, but Tess still stood, fur covered in molten lead.
The shimmering faded.
Tess shook her head, like she’d reached some conclusion and said, in the voice of someone who’d not slept in thousands of years, “You got me, I’m dead.”
Sophia hurled the rifle to the ground, “Fuck you! I hate you!”
A kind of laughter spilled from Tess. She padded towards Sophia, morphing back to her human form. Sophia, in turn, tried to back away, but even injured as Tess was, she was able to close the gap without running or jogging—and then Sophia tripped and fell backwards. Tess caught her by the hand, and to the girl’s surprise, pulled her in for a hug.
“You’re the closest thing to family I have now. How about that?”
Sophia, left in shock, could only mutter a “Huh.”
“And you despise me. How about that.”
At first, Sophia squirmed, but as Tess kept her in her embrace, she found herself not hating it. More than not hating it. She even returned the gesture in kind. A well of everything had been uncapped and was
on the verge overflowing. Sophia cried into her chest. Tess pat her head.
“Yeah, ain’t it sad?” Tess said with cheer, but without laughter. She tussled Sophia’s hair and let her go, shifted back to a small jackal, and wandered away.
“Wait, where are you going?” Sophia sniffled, wiping at her cheeks.
The jackal paused to look over her shoulder, “Where all gods without purpose or meaning go,” she said, and kept on walking.
Sophia watched, in silence. She wanted to shout that no, she didn’t hate Tess, didn’t despise her—she’d just been upset, didn’t know how much… But she couldn’t. Instead, all she could do was stand there until Tess vanished from sight.
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE
No matter how many days, months, and years passed, Sophia could never get over the feeling of being behind Sejit’s desk. It would never be her desk, for it would always be Sejit’s. She felt so small and unimportant behind it, a child playing at an adult.
The museum had been left to Wophin, per the terms of the charter and other documents, much to Wophin’s surprise. It wasn’t that Sejit had left him something, but rather that she envisioned a time wherein she would be no longer. Wophin, however, had no desire or want to run a temple to a departed goddess, and so, turned it over to Sophia. There had been some protest from within, of course, but as there were no investors to please or shareholders to get in the way, none could challenge his one decision as president.
Sophia accepted with some reluctance. Her parents had been pleasantly surprised to discover their daughter was now the president and owner. They’d asked what happened to Sejit, given all that had happened.
She’d told them Sejit had gone to spend time with her son.
They understood.
The fourth anniversary of that day arrived.
She couldn’t focus on work, no matter how much it piled up. She’d just have to hire more assistants to take care of it. Maybe she’d do like Tess had done so often, run things from afar, hire capable people while she did other things. That wouldn’t be so bad. After all, all the corporations she’d owned were still plodding along just fine. Most were, anyways. A few returned to their short-sighted roots and, without her moderating guidance, fell victim to greed and the lure of immediate profits.