Embrace the Fire

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Embrace the Fire Page 22

by Spring Stevens


  Snarling, Varick narrowed his eyes as Charon vanished into thin air. The hair on the back of his neck tingled as the sun began to rise. He had an achingly bad feeling things were going to go from bad to worse in the next couple of seconds. The teardrop under his ear began to burn, the mark smoking with warning.

  Facing the horizon, he held out his arms and closed his eyes as a single ray of light descended, streaking downward relentlessly. His back arched, his fangs cutting into his bottom lip. Blistering heat enveloped him, his flesh melting and dripping from his bones. And yet he refused to scream; he refused to fall.

  His wings unfurled from the muscles on his back, their black feathers flaming and ashes blowing into the winds. Bleached-white bones laced with streaks of titanium and steel stood embraced by light and held together by charred and useless tendons. Varick’s soul glittered and hummed in the skeleton’s chest.

  The clouds parted, the rocky mountainside swamped with harsh bright light. A lone figure, white robes flowing around his feet, appeared at the base of the mountain and began his trek upward. Slowly, he made his way to Varick, humming as he went. As he grew closer, his features softened and his shoulders relaxed.

  With a quick wave of his hand, Varick’s wing bones broke and fell to the ground. A black and silver robe appeared, draping over Varick’s shoulders, and shimmered as it flowed to his feet. The male stepped back and started to hum again.

  Varick’s soul hummed in rhythm, his bones swaying with the sound.

  Placing his hand on the skull before him, the figure sang out, loud and long. Electricity filled the sky, bounced around the rocks, and arched from one mountaintop to the next. Life flowed back into the skeleton, knowledge and power forming inside Varick’s soul. Blood veins raced anew as tendons and muscles rippled across bone. New flesh grew, merging and pulling his features together. His hair grew longer and whiter than before. A thick strand of red formed at his temple, running down to his waist, braiding itself as it grew.

  Placing his other hand over Varick’s chest, the figure leaned in close and blew new breath into his body as he sent an electrical surge into his heart. “I am Isten, and I welcome you to the Isle of the Blessed and the Condemned.”

  He stepped back and waited.

  Varick’s mind switched back on, the floodgates to his memories, his thoughts, and his feelings ripping open and rushing through his system, eradicating any hope of remaining calm. Grabbing his head, he screamed as he took his first ragged breath. His heart thundered as he staggered and fell to one knee.

  His back arched as electrical sparks popped and sparked, arching along his skin. His muscles jerked and twitched with each spark. Lighting flashed; the form of a great dragon appeared as dark clouds dampened the sky, its shadow creeping along the ground circling Isten.

  Looking up, Isten smiled. “Stand, Varick.”

  He groaned, the weight of his pain shaking his legs as he clutched his chest. Through his blurred vision, he focused on the barely contained, commanding voice.

  “The choice has been made. Hold out your hands, palms up, and accept your destiny. As ordained at the moment of your birth, you have chosen as it was meant to be.”

  Desperately trying to clear his head, Varick looked up and watched the dragon, Terror Sky, gracefully land at Isten’s side. Terror Sky arched his back and transformed into a man. Varick grunted; he still looked the same as he had all those years ago. He wore the same armor, the same sword hanging at his side, and the same red braid hanging from his temple.

  Terror Sky spoke. “Accept your destiny, boy!”

  “No,” Varick’s voice gritted out, the sound of gravel on metal. “To hell with your destiny! I must save her.”

  Stepping forward, Terror Sky grinned menacingly and willed Varick’s hands upward. “She can save herself. That one doesn’t need a hero.”

  Isten rolled his eyes and smirked. “What was I thinking when I granted all life the right to be stubborn?”

  “Free will was indeed one of your less than memorable decisions. Now, if I had been in your oversized shoes, I would have granted them the inability to argue with me.”

  Isten laughed. “Yes, well, most life would be most thankful you were not around at the time of Creation.”

  Varick wanted to scream. What the hell was going on?

  “What about my free will?” Looking down at his hands, he tried to move them and found he could not break free of Terror Sky’s hold.

  The two males before him continued their conversation as his anger grew. “Excuse me? Destroyer speaking! What the hell about my free will? Don’t I get a say in whatever the hell you’re doing to me?”

  Both gods cast him a disapproving look.

  Isten spoke. “You’re no longer a Destroyer. As a matter of fact, you never were meant to be a Destroyer. And before you accidentally stumble upon another small fact, I’ll inform you now. You’re a god.” Isten took a deep breath. “You are descended from me, the father of this world. Your DNA had been rewritten, but now you are as you were meant to be.”

  Placing his hands over Varick’ palms, he chuckled. “And by the way, it was free will that led you here.”

  When their palms made contact, Varick felt time and space rip through his very being, felt his blood boiling inside his veins and his bones bending under the onslaught of power. His body and soul warped and twisted in pain so excruciating he forgot how to use his vocal cords. He wanted to scream, and he wanted to cry.

  Death by degrees had been too vague a term, and he was forced to silently curse Charon.

  Casually, Terror Sky walked around Varick as Isten released his palms. Terror Sky turned to Isten. “Is all the pain necessary?”

  Isten shrugged nonchalantly. “Pain always comes with pleasure, and it is the balance of all things. Yin and yang. Tit for tat.” He sat on a nearby boulder and watched Varick writhe. “And in Varick’s own words, pain is an ally. It assists one in bringing the evidence of life into focus.”

  Terror Sky nodded, running his fingers down the red braid at his temple. “Makes one appreciate the simple pleasures.”

  Isten laughed. “Might want to stand clear — he is about to go postman on us.”

  “Postal,” Terror Sky corrected as he stepped back and leaned on the boulder beside Isten. “He is about to go postal on us.”

  “I can never get that one right.”

  Varick slung his arms outward, his muscles bulging as sparks arched over his back. His golden eyes glowed intensely as his voice returned, and a scream ripped from his throat and echoed around the mountain. Straining, he stepped back, refusing to go to his knees.

  “What. Have. You. Done. To me?” His voice was hard.

  Terror Sky answered slowly, “Today you have been reborn from your ashes. The Destroyer you once were no longer exists, and in his stead now stands a god.”

  “I thought I had already told him that.” He nudged Terror Sky’s shoulder. “You sure this one is as intelligent as you thought?”

  “I don’t feel like a god,” Varick roared as thunder bounced around inside his skull and needles scoured his flesh. “I don’t want to be a god!”

  Isten nodded. “It does take some getting used to.”

  Varick ripped the robe from his chest and cursed as the mark on his ankle appeared in the flesh just below his six pack. The circle was around his navel and the six dots appeared to the left of it. Colors seeped in, the moon glowing white as the crescent turned as red as blood. Clouds and lightning formed behind it, Varick feeling it as if an unseen tattoo gun were working at his flesh.

  “That is the mark of my legacy, my descendants. It only appears on those of my descendants who are worthy enough to be a god or goddess of Creation. You have been found worthy.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Varick staggered, uncontrolled p
ower racing through his body. “I am not worthy of this. I was an assassin. I killed without mercy, without pause. I wallowed in my own ignorance and called it bliss.”

  “And what regret lies in your heart? What sorrow has those actions caused?” Isten shook his head. “One cannot truly know justice or fairness unless they have experienced the exact opposite. One cannot find the path to retribution unless one meets their regret and accepts it for what it is.”

  “Like it or not, you are a god now. So stop sniveling and go to it.” Terror Sky grunted. “Don’t make me regret saving your sorry ass time after time.”

  “Screw you!”

  Terror Sky turned to Isten with a smug smile. “Told you he would be a handful.”

  Isten nodded in agreement. “True this.”

  “This is true,” Terror Sky corrected. “When are you ever going to figure out these sayings?”

  “When pork chops fly.” Isten chuckled as Terror Sky slapped himself in the forehead. “Or maybe when toads stop bumping their backsides on the ground when they hop.”

  Grumbling, Terror Sky replied, “It’s when pigs fly and frogs bumping their asses on the ground when they jump.”

  Varick stepped back. They were cracked. Both the gods were nut jobs! And he thought he had problems.

  “Terror Sky and I have been waiting for your arrival for many, many centuries. And since I cannot leave this Isle, I had Terror Sky watch over you since your birth.”

  “You’re out of your mind.” Varick took another step back. “Both of you.”

  “Maybe.” Isten eyed Varick. “There are many things you must do. Many lives hang on the edge, lives you must save.”

  “How do I get to the Underworld?”

  “You’re a god now — figure it out.” Isten growled low. “I did not waste my time creating the perfect bloodline for you to be ignorant.”

  Terror Sky laughed. “You contain the power in your blood, Varick. All you have to do is find a way to manifest it.”

  Shaking his head, Varick slowly sat down on a small boulder. “None of this makes sense. How can I have anything to do with the powers that be?”

  “Fate. Destiny. Whatever you want to call it.” Isten grinned. “I planned your birth. You are blood of my blood.”

  “Who is my father?” The question hung in the silence that followed.

  “Is that not obvious? Who has constantly been a thorn in your backside since he turned you into a Destroyer?” Terror Sky asked. “Who has taken great pains so you would and could deny Zena’s call?”

  “No.” Varick stood and willed every ounce of power he had to dematerialize. “That miserable leech can’t be my father!”

  Chapter 34

  Varick Ta Farg roared to the Heavens as he materialized inside the hall at Tortured Souls. Sparks of energy jumped from his back and sizzled through the air as he turned to the empty table and splintered it with his mind. He heard the Destroyers coming, heard their heartbeats getting closer as he unleashed his power and the entire building rumbled. The sound grew louder, and the ceiling groaned, threatening to come down on his head as he morphed into dragon.

  Varick raged down the hall as his dragon breathed flames and crashed its head through the walls. Several of the Destroyers were thrown into walls and through doors as he rampaged through the corridor.

  Gyth appeared to his left, and the words fell from his lips like a signature on a death warrant. “No! What have they done to you?”

  Forcing the dragon back, Varick transformed into man. He flung himself at Gyth’s throat as rage filled his soul. Noticing that Gyth allowed him to attack only added to his anger. Gyth’s head snapped backwards as Varick’s fist slammed into his chin.

  The hall filled with Destroyers. Apoc pounced and grabbed Varick’ arms trying to pull him away from Gyth. Eli flung himself across Varick’s chest. Varick screamed and flung his brothers to the floor as he grabbed Gyth’s neck. Eli cursed as he slid into a chair and it splintered under his weight.

  “I will kill you! Let me save her!”

  Gyth raised his hand to the approaching Destroyers, stopping them in their tracks, and stared deep into his son’s eyes. Varick fell forward as tears ran down his cheeks. Unable to control his own limbs, he melted into Gyth’s arms.

  “I love her … I love her … ” Varick’s words echoed around his mind. His beast roared. He had never loved anyone except his mother. Every fiber of his being knew she had become his entire world. Without her, he didn’t want to continue, didn’t want to walk the path before him.

  “I know, my son. I know.”

  From out of the corner of his eye, Varick saw Charon appear. Black robes swirled around his feet as he grabbed his arms and pulled him to a standing position a few feet away from Gyth. Varick winced at the strength pouring from his fingertips and had the uncanny feeling the devil was latching onto his soul.

  “There’s another way,” Charon stated. “There is another way to get to the Underworld if you don’t want to use my portals.”

  “Varick, you must not use that power,” Gyth whispered intensely. “Damon will know you are coming, and I cannot protect you from him in his domain.”

  “What power? You’ve been to the Underworld so why can’t you go now?” Varick turned and faced Charon. “What power do I have?”

  Apoc stepped forward to glare at Gyth. “What difference does it make? Damon will know the second any of us set foot in the Underworld, anyway.”

  Charon laid his hand on Varick’s shoulder, his voice flowing through his mind. “The power of Isten flows through your veins. The universe is his domain and now it’s yours as well.”

  Gyth spoke, calmly. “I order you to stand down, Varick. Going to the Underworld is too much of a risk. Damon is more powerful than you.”

  Varick looked at Gyth over his shoulder. “Regardless of your orders or this two thousand year old war you have with Damon, I will save her.”

  Charon stepped back and bowled slightly to Gyth. “This war wasn’t part of the greater plan.”

  Gyth closed his eyes as he spoke. “Damon broke the laws of the Heavens. I did what I had to do.” His eyes opened, a soft white glow illuminating Gyth’s face. “If you fail to return to this realm, all will be lost. The future of this world depends on all of you.”

  Alexander and Apoc stepped beside Varick. “Let’s do this. If she means enough to you that you’ll defy Gyth and face Damon, we’re going to help.”

  Charon stepped in front of Varick and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Manifest the power in your veins; urge it to your thoughts. Create a path from this realm to the Underworld.”

  Concentrating on Charon’s words, Varick let the power in him collect together, and centered his every thought on the Underworld. Once the Underworld was a clear image in his mind, he imagined a road.

  “When you see the path, focus the power and let it wrap around you.” Charon’s voice was a whisper in his ear. “Let it take you where you want to go.”

  Varick’s body tingled. Looking at his hands, he saw the same shimmer as he had seen on Gyth a thousand times before. He felt the power; saw his destination and the path clearly in his mind. Charon nodded and vanished in a wisp of smoke.

  The Destroyers gathered around him. He held his hands out. Apoc, Alexander, and Kreach grabbed his hands. In the second before the group disappeared, Eli stepped forward and latched his mighty hand onto Varick’s arm.

  Deep within the bowels of hell, the warp opened and the five warriors stepped through. Each looked to the other without uttering a word and drew out their weapons as the sound of pounding feet — or was it paws — echoed in the halls. Battle ready, hearts pounding, and fangs flashing, they stepped forward to face the legions of hell that came barreling down the black maze with red eyes blazing.

  Never before ha
d such an undeniable strength set foot in hell. The walls shuddered in their presence as they formed a single line of defense. Eager smiles and deadly intentions filled the hall as the enemy screeched their arrival.

  “Prepare yourselves, my brothers, for hell is coming to devour us!” Apoc scoffed.

  “Only if we don’t devour it first!” Varick screamed as he leapt forward with blades dancing through the foul-smelling air.

  • • •

  Damon snapped his fingers, and Angelica’s unconscious body appeared spread out on his massive bed. As he slithered closer, she slowly opened her eyes, somewhat conscious of her predicament. Her eyes widened in fear as the serpent at her shoulder latched onto her wrist and entwined itself up her arm. Her body jerked as the serpent sucked hard on her wrist.

  Damon’s head fell backwards as a moan escaped his lips. “Such sweet blood.”

  Frightened, devastated that her whole life had been reduced to crumbling ashes, Angelica leapt from the bed like a lioness defending her cubs. It had happened — it was not a dream or some vivid daytime nightmare her subconscious had conjured up.

  She was in hell. And she was going to die, right here, right now.

  There was no frigging way she was about to let that happen. At least she hoped not. She had so much going for her, truly she did. She was the descendent of a goddess and she had finally met a guy that made her heart go pitter-pat.

  Oh, for the love of God, she had just found the guy she had fallen hopelessly in love with, and there was not a chance in hell she was going to let him slip through her fingers. She wanted her life with him, and she’d fight the devil himself to keep him.

  Prying the snake from her wrist, she turned to the demon god before her and tried not to vomit. Saying a quick prayer to whatever god might be listening, she braced her feet and flung the serpent across the dimly lit room.

 

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