Dark God

by T C Southwell

  "Yes."

  She hunted for something else to say, for Bane's cold silence did not make an atmosphere conducive to conversation. "Is there anything you would like?"

  He nodded, relaxing somewhat, his scowl easing. "Some wine, so I can get nice and drunk."

  "We do not have any wine."

  Bane let his head fall back against the wall with a bonk. "Wonderful."

  She laid a hand on his chest, longing to make amends for the hurtful meeting with Tallis and hoping her fearless touch would atone for Tallis's adverse reaction. "I could stay if you want to talk."

  He brushed her hand away, turning his face to the wall. "No, leave me alone."

  Mirra's heart bled for him, but his constant rejection frustrated her. "That is why you like being alone, is it not? They left you alone, down there, until you convinced yourself that you preferred to be alone, so they could not hurt you. You -"

  He sat up. "Get out! I do not need you poking into my mind. Go and play with your little friend." He sneered the word.

  "You are my friend too." She tried to grab him, to shake some sense into him, but Bane was off the bed and on the other side of the room.

  "Leave me alone!"

  Mirra stood up, intending to go after him and convince him that she wanted his company and longed for his friendship, but, at that moment, the door opened. Ellese stood in it, and Bane spun to glare at her.

  Ellese said, "Mirra, leave him alone. He does not want your friendship. He does not want anyone's."

  Bane sneered, "Been spying again, old woman?"

  "No, I heard the shouting outside. No one wants to torment you."

  "Damn you," he growled, his hands curling into fists.

  "Why, because I understand you? Because I want to help you?"

  Bane sat on the bed and bowed his head, wings of hair sliding forward to hide his face. Ellese pushed Mirra out of the door and closed it. Bane raised his head, then found that he was not alone, as he had thought. He turned away with an angry grunt.

  Ellese gazed at him with soft sincerity, knowing that the fate of the world relied on someone convincing this bitter, twisted young man that he belonged with his own kind, needed to help them reclaim their world, and that they would accept him. The last part was the hardest, for she could promise nothing from the public in general, only for herself and a few others. She had so little to give in return for his help, which would be a monumental feat. Ellese smiled wryly at the poor bargain she offered.

  Save the Overworld, Bane, go up against a powerful dark god, and perhaps lose your life in the process. In return, if you survive, you will have the gratitude and friendship of two healers, and perhaps the grudging respect of the rest of mankind, but possibly rejection and murderous hatred. Not much of a deal. She could not say that the Black Lord would destroy Bane if he did not fight, for she did not know that for certain. If he posed no threat, the Black Lord might very well leave him alone, rather than challenge him. She sighed, waiting until he raised icy eyes to her face and reading the hostility in them.

  "We are not demons," she told him. "We are humans, your own kind. That longing for company you had long ago is perfectly normal. We have it too. It is not a weakness. Mirra will not taunt you or deny it to you. She is a very kind girl."

  "I do not need her kindness." He spat the last word with loathing.

  "No, of course not. You do not need anyone." Ellese cringed inwardly. She was not saying it well. "But did you ever consider that we might need you?"

  "To destroy the Black Lord."

  "No." She sat on the chair, grateful he had not tacked a 'why should I' onto that statement. "At one time, Mirra needed your protection from the demons, which was one of the reasons you did it. No one had ever needed you before, but she was helpless, reliant on you, and you did not let her down, did you? You almost killed yourself to save her."

  "It was a challenge."

  Ellese ignored him. "Now she is safe. She does not appear to need you anymore, and you resent that. But you are wrong; she still needs you, and so do I."

  "What for?"

  "To talk to, to be with, to share our hopes and dreams, fears and disappointments."

  "You can do that with anyone."

  "Not really. You are special to us."

  Bane snorted in patent disbelief and lay down, clasping his hands behind his head.

  Ellese searched for the right words. "I know I am rushing this, but we have so little time."

  "Why would you care? Why am I special to you?"

  "After so many years of caring about you, I feel I know you, and that makes you special to me. You are like the son I never had."

  "My mother is dead."

  Elder Mother nodded. "But your father is not."

  Bane raised his head to stare at her with an almost comically startled expression, then his guard slammed into place. "What of it?"

  "Would you like to meet him?"

  "He does not even know I exist."

  Ellese smiled. "No, but I am sure he would be overjoyed."

  "The lusty woodcutter."

  "The Black Lord told you that?" Ellese's heart sank. What lies had the Black Lord filled Bane's head with?

  "A lusty woodcutter and a love sick peasant girl."

  "Yes, your father is a woodsman, and your mother was a peasant girl. They loved each other very much."

  "So they conceived me. How sweet." His voice dripped scorn.

  Ellese glared at him, angered by his attitude. "Yes, they did. Why is that so repugnant to you?"

  "I am the product of some lusty roll in the hay, an afternoon's fornication under a hedgerow. That hardly fills me with respect for them."

  Ellese's voice softened with sadness, understanding. "Your parents were married for two years. You would have been their first-born son. You were planned. Very much wanted. They would have adored you. Your father has pined for your mother for twenty years."

  Bane stared at the ceiling, his brows knotted, breathing deeply through flared nostrils. She could sense his rage building from across the room. He seemed to radiate it in cold waves, and she wondered if he would control it, or explode. His moods were unpredictable in the extreme.

  Bane leapt up in a smooth bound and hurled himself against the wall, pounding it with his fist, his forehead pressed to the cold stone. "Damn him! Damn him!"

  The thudding of his fist reverberated around the room, the blows so hard that the rough stone cut into his skin. Startled and concerned, Ellese went to him and put a comforting hand on his back, although he flinched from her touch. She did not need to remind herself that this was a man who teetered on the brink of self-destruction, whose loathing for the world was only outstripped by his wish to quit it.

  The only reason he still lived was the tenuous, misunderstood hold that Mirra had on his heart. If he decided that that was not a good enough reason to continue living, they would lose him, and, with him, their only hope of survival. It was important that he should find other reasons to live, other people who might accept and love him, which was why she had told him about his father. This was not the reaction she had expected when he learnt that he had a real father, however. His lacerated fist left bloody marks on the wall, and she tried to stop his pounding arm.

  "Stop it, Bane."

  His fist opened, and he spread his hand against the stone. Blood ran down the wall in a crimson streak, dripping from his hand.

  "Would you like to meet him?" she asked.

  Bane pushed himself away from the wall. His face looked like it was carved from stone. "No."

  "Why?"

  "How will he like it, to find that his son is the Demon Lord?"

  "It will not matter. You are his son. He will love you, no matter what you are. You look like your mother. Perhaps he can tell you what your real name is."

  He glared at her. "My name is Bane. The curse. The blight."

  "The Black Lord named you that, not your father."

  "But that is what I am. That is h
ow people will think of me, including him."

  "No, that is only what the Black Lord intended you to be. It is not what you are."

  Bane sank down on the bed, holding his injured hand so the blood dripped onto the floor. His eyes had turned cold again, or had they ever warmed?

  "Why should I risk my life for a bunch of ungrateful, dirty humans? Tell me that, old woman. What do I get out of it?"

  Ellese took a deep breath. There it was, the question she dreaded, the gauntlet flung down. She mustered her scattering thoughts, which tried to flutter away and leave her with a blank, useless mind, and marshalled them. Only the truth would do. She sat down on the chair again.

  "Not much, I am afraid. You will free the Overworld from the rule of the monster who put you through so much. You will have your revenge on him, I suppose. But since the Overworld means little to you, that is not much of a reward. You will be saving countless people, including your father."

  Bane snorted, which told her that this held little weight with him. Ellese wished that he had already been purged, then small things like that would mean much more to him. She played her trump.

  "You would be saving Mirra, too."

  The Demon Lord shot her a look so icy that Ellese could have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. "Do not use the girl as a bargaining point, old woman. Your spell may fail yet."

  "What spell?" Ellese frowned, confused.

  "The spell you cast on me. If it was not her doing, then it was yours. Do not lie about it now."

  Elder Mother sat back as understanding dawned. Unbidden, her lips curled in a smile and laughter bubbled in her throat.

  Bane leapt to his feet, his expression murderous. "You smile? You dare to mock me? You think I am so thoroughly entranced that I am helpless to fight back? The only one I am constrained to save is that damned girl, the rest of you can rot in Hell!"

  Ellese shrank from his ire, her smile fading. "I do not mock you, I only... There is no spell, at least not one that any of us cast, for we do not use that kind of magic. That which you call a spell, for it is so alien to you, is a perfectly natural feeling you have developed for Mirra, commonly found between men and women, and, to a lesser extent, between friends. It is called love."

  "No!" His rejection was so fierce it startled her. "I cannot feel such things. I am not capable of it. I have no wish to... love... anyone."

  "It is not something you can control, I am afraid."

  "You lie! I do not believe you. The Black Lord made me immune to such things. He cut out my heart, I watched him do it."

  Ellese recoiled in shock. This was something she had not seen, for she had not been able to watch him constantly. She shook her head. "That was an illusion. If he had truly cut out your heart, you would be dead."

  He sat on the bed again, looking tired, his rage burnt out. "Even if what you say is true, and I do not see why I should believe you, that still does not convince me to save this foul world. I would rather live in the Underworld."

  Sadness washed through Ellese. There was simply no good way to persuade Bane to fight the Black Lord. There was nothing she could offer him. "It would redeem you in the eyes of your people. You would be a hero, even if they never accepted you. Your father would be proud of you."

  He ran a hand through his hair, and his face relaxed a little, as if the dark power momentarily loosened its grip on him. "My people, who hate me, my father, who has never met me. These reasons are not convincing. And do not tell me that I owe the girl my life. I had no wish to live when she saved me."

  "That is not true. If you truly had not wished to live, you would not have." She leant forward. "Was it because you wanted to stay with Mirra, or because you wanted vengeance on the Black Lord for what he did to you?"

  "It was because she kept feeding me that damned potion."

  Ellese smiled. "So, you wanted to stay with her."

  "I did not say that."

  "You did not have to. It is true, is it not?"

  He shrugged. "It may be."

  "There is no shame in it."

  "There is if it weakens me."

  "How can it weaken you?"

  "Because she is weak, vulnerable. If I go against the Black Lord, he will strike at her, not me."

  Ellese nodded. "That is true, but we will protect her."

  "From the Black Lord?" He snorted. "You do not stand a chance against him. He will send an army of dark creatures to wipe this place off the face of the earth."

  "But you can protect her."

  "Not without my power."

  "You will be able to use your power when you have been healed."

  He gazed at her. "And you trust me not to replace the Black Lord as ruler of the Overworld? I could, you know."

  "I know you could. And yes, I do."

  "Why?"

  "Because I know you do not want to."

  "What makes you think that?"

  She shrugged and sighed. "It is not your nature, and once you have been purged of the dark power you will see that."

  "Will I?" His brows rose, and his expression became sceptical. "That should be interesting."

  Ellese nodded, fascinated by his mood swings, which she had seen many times before. One moment he was coldly harsh, the next in a towering rage, and now, he seemed quite calm. She rose and picked up his jar of green paste, opened it and scooped out a dollop. Bane scowled when she sat next to him and rubbed it into the cut on his hand. The bleeding stopped, and she smiled at him as she put away the jar.

  "We will be able to cure you of this."

  "The bleeding?"

  "Yes. Once you have been purged."

  Bane regarded her with deep resentment, and she reached out to stroke his hair, failing when he leant away. "I know. You do not need our help."

  He stared at the floor, and she waited for him to speak, wondering how long this calm phase would last. At last he looked up. "What is my father like?"

  Ellese rose and returned to her chair, sensing his intense dislike for her proximity. His curiosity pleased her. She took it as a good sign. "A quiet man, moody, withdrawn, stays by himself in the woods, and does not like intruders. Tall, like you. You have his nose, his mouth, and his chin. Your eyes and hair come from your mother, the brows too, and, of course, the widow's peak."

  He looked puzzled. "What is a widow's peak?"

  She gestured at her brow, which did not possess one. "It is... you have one on your forehead."

  His hand rose to examine his forehead, fingering the smooth skin and the deeply plunging hairline. "I cannot feel it."

  "You have never seen a mirror?"

  "No."

  Ellese rose. "Wait here."

  Elder Mother hurried down the hall to her study and returned with a hand mirror. She gave it to him, and he looked at it curiously, turning it so it reflected the walls at odd angles.

  She smiled. "Hold it in front of your face, and you will see yourself."

  Bane lifted the mirror, and Ellese caught a glimpse of blurred black hair in it before he turned it towards himself. The mirror shattered with explosive force, shooting bright splinters. He recoiled in surprise and alarm, flinging away the broken handle.

  Ellese clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Goddess! You... It is your power. I am sorry, I should have realised."

  He glared at her. "It was not meant to do that?"

  "No! It... You should have seen your reflection. What happens if you look into water?"

  He shrugged. "It glitters."

  "The dark power will not allow you to see yourself."

  "Why?"

  "I am not sure."

  Bane brushed splinters from his clothes. "It is not important."

  He looked tired, and Ellese rose, not wishing to overstay her welcome, such as it was. She paused at the door.

  "I will send someone to clean up the mess."

  Ellese gazed at him. His air of solitude and weary depression saddened her. He had the
look of a defeated man, abandoned by the world that had raised him, thrust into another that did not want him, and which he did not like. His apparent willingness to fight the Black Lord did not comfort her, for he could easily change his mind, and, after the battle, if he won, then what?

  As she turned away, she said, "Try to be nice to Mirra, she only wants to be your friend."

  Chapter Four

  The Goddess

  Mirra and Tallis sat on the grass of the inner garden under black, scudding clouds. Flickers of lightning played on the horizon, and the cold wind plucked at their robes. Mirra had almost recovered from her ordeal after plenty of rest and good food, and Tallis had trimmed her hair into a pretty, gamin style, with short bangs that framed her face, heightening its elfin quality. Her fingers wound flowers into a chain while she listened to Tallis chatter, trying to concentrate on that instead of thinking about Bane, alone in his room.

  Mirra longed to talk to him, but Elder Mother had warned her to stay away from him. The wise seeress had told her to let him seek her out, if he wished, and not to intrude upon his self-imposed solitude. So, she had obeyed, all of yesterday afternoon and evening, now all of the morning too. Last night she had tossed restlessly in her bed, missing him.

  A cold presence intruded into her reverie, and she glanced up to find the Demon Lord standing over them, studying her with an inscrutable expression. Her heart leapt with surprise at his silent approach and joy at the sight of him. Tallis gasped and scrambled away. Bane's lip curled in contempt, his cold eyes following her.

  "I am not going to harm you, girl."

  Tallis hesitated, looking at Mirra for assurance, and the other girl nodded, patting the grass beside her. "Come and sit here, Tal."

  Tallis moved close to her friend, watching Bane with deep trepidation. He folded his legs and settled on the grass, apart from them, but close enough to talk.

  "How are you?" Mirra smiled shyly.

  He shrugged, gazing around the garden. "Well enough."

  His unnatural pallor reflected the illness that the dark power that still filled him caused, and she longed for the day when it was gone forever. His gaze wandered up to the angry sky.