Amorlia

by Chris Wichtendahl

  The Fall of Hell

  The Redeemer threw the door to the Sixth Hell off its hinges and it flew across Nasphel’s bedchamber. This had the unfortunate consequence of crushing some of the large group of armed demons assembled around it. As the Redeemer stepped through the doorway, they all took a step back, muttering among themselves. When the doorway to the Underworld collapsed into nothingness behind the Redeemer, they became even more nervous. “Settle down!” Nasphel commanded. He had replaced the burned part of his face with metal plating, though the job had been rushed, and rather unskilled. “Hold your ground,” he growled. “That would be unwise,” the Redeemer said, “Rather than hold your ground, you will stand aside and allow us to pass.” “Oh, will we?” Nasphel managed a lopsided scowl, “And do you intend to make us, princess? Clearly, you have rescued the soul of your beloved, but I never put all that much stock in the legend of the Redeemer, so if you think I’m just going to roll over for you, you can- urnghk!” The Redeemer reached out a hand, casually snapped Nasphel’s neck, dropped his limp body to the floor then looked around the room and said, “You will all stand aside now, and allow us to pass.” The assembled demons parted, making a path for the Redeemer. The being that was Artemis and Kael moved swiftly through the Sixth Hell, and where they went, destruction followed. The castles and villas of the elite crumbled to dust, their inhabitants bursting into flames. The Birthing Pits bubbled over and boiled, destroying the latest generation of demon spawn. As the Redeemer exited the Sixth for the Fifth Hell, the door collapsed behind them, just as the previous door did. All the doors of the various Hells collapsed as the Redeemer passed through, and in every Hell, damage was done and demons were destroyed. As the Redeemer made their way through the Hells, they also made one other important change. Any souls they judged to be repentant were freed from their prisons and sent on to the Summerland, where they would await their next incarnation and another chance to get it right. Those found to be unrepentant were left to wander a ravaged infernal wasteland for all eternity, and enough demons were left alive to make the experience as unpleasant as possible. Finally, the Redeemer arrived in the First Hell. Most of those souls trapped there were repentant and found release through the grace of the Redeemer. The little boy who had helped Artemis approached. “Are... are you the woman who passed through here not so long ago?” he asked quietly. “We are indeed Artemis Vega,” the Redeemer said, smiling, “though we are also much more.” The Redeemer crouched down to the boy’s eye level, and plucked the small demon off his neck. It squealed its frustration, and was crushed to a slimy paste between thumb and forefinger. “We are here,” they told the boy, “to send you home.” The Redeemer leaned forward and kissed the young boy on the forehead. He smiled happily as he faded from view. “To the Summerland? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! I-” Then he was gone. “You are most welcome,” the Redeemer said, smiling at the empty Hell. When the Redeemer stepped out of the door into Faerie, a keening wail marked the collapse of the door. The spire of rock crumbled, leaving naught but a pile of dust and rubble. Sar approached reverently. “Redeemer,” she held out her arms, “the legend has proved true. You walk among us at last. Tell me, is your task complete?” “It is,” the Redeemer nodded, “The Lords of the Sixth Hell are vanquished, the infernal realms have been sealed and the Dark Queen weeps alone in her prison. The Time of Changes is upon us, the Age of Wonder draws nigh.” Sar knelt before the Redeemer, “Thank you, radiant one. What now shall be your business?” “We shall return to the mortal world,” came the answer, “Artemis Vega and Kael T’Ken have their destinies to fulfill, and a world to save. The Time of Changes is a time of great chaos. The future is not written, nor its path set. The coming Age may yet be one of Darkness, if these heroes falter.” The Redeemer bowed to Sar, “We bid you farewell, Fire Spirit. Our time is short, and we shall not be seen again. We offer our blessing, in thanks for all you have done.” Sar smiled, fiery tears of joy running down her cheeks, “Thank you, Redeemer,” she whispered. The Redeemer nodded and stepped through the shimmering doorway to the mortal world. Artemis Vega fell out of the shimmering doorway and hit the ground hard. She was herself again, the Redeemer was no more and Kael’s soul lay dormant within her. She lay, panting on the ground, unable to move and barely able to focus her eyes. She sensed people approaching. “I know that I am surrounded,” she mumbled, “but I care not if you are Nazean soldiers led by Julien Castille himself. I am too tired to fight you, so do as you will.” “How fortunate it is, then,” a familiar voice said, “that you are, in fact, surrounded by friends.” “Mmmm,” Artemis felt her eyes grow heavy as five pairs of hands lifted her gently from where she’d fallen, “That’s okay, then.” The Sisters of Luna carried her sleeping form back to their clearing, where she would enjoy a well-earned rest before resuming her journey.

  A Brief Rest for the Weary

  Artemis opened her eyes, and could not immediately tell where she was. She was naked, though the bright afternoon sun kept her comfortably warm. Looking around, she saw that she lay in the central pool of the Yoni Luna, but for some reason, it was only half-full. Closer examination revealed that the pool was refilling itself from an underground spring. On either side of the pool, near her head, a Sister of Luna sat slumbering. Sister Kaatene raised her head, blinked her eyes and stared blearily at Artemis for a few seconds. Then the sleep cleared from her mind and she smiled. “Good morning,” she said, then, glancing at the sky, “or, afternoon, I should say.” Across from her, Sister Karma woke as well. “She is awake?” she asked Sister Kaatene. “And lucid, apparently,” Sister Kaatene answered, “Her fever has finally broken.” Sister Karma stood slowly, rubbing the small of her back, “I will inform the others.” She smiled at Artemis, “Welcome back, my dear.” Artemis glanced at Sister Kaatene, “Fever?” she croaked. Her throat was cracked and dry. Sister Kaatene nodded, looking up to take a tray from Sister Raya, who had just arrived with Sister Karma. “You’ve been feverish and delusional for three days,” she explained, “You burned so hot, we could barely touch you and were finally forced to submerge you here to cool you down.” “As it was,” Sister Raya said, handing Artemis a goblet of cool water, “you boiled the pool dry in moments. It is only now able to refill itself.” Artemis took several large gulps from the goblet before speaking again. “But, why would I become so ill?” Sister Karma chuckled, shaking her head. “Artemis,” she said, “you crossed over to the Summerland and back, in the process coming to an awareness of your true heritage.” She began ticking items off on her fingers. “You traveled to Faerie, traversed the Six Hells and defeated a goddess in single combat. You absorbed the soul of your lover into your own body, transcended to a higher state of being, laid waste to all of Hell and returned to the mortal realm, still bearing an entire other soul inside you.” “Frankly,” Sister Raya said, offering Artemis a platter of sliced fruit, “we’re amazed you’re still alive.” Artemis took the food, gratefully. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until just then. In between bites, she asked, “How did you know all that happened to me in Hell?” The Sisters blushed, turning away. “Ummm,” Sister Kaatene said, “there’s very little we don’t know about you now, Artemis.” Artemis swallowed a bite of peach and raised an eyebrow. “While you were feverish,” Sister Karma began, “your telepathy... well, it, umm...” “You broadcast the contents of your mind for all of us to know,” Sister Raya finished. “Oh,” Now it was Artemis’ turn to blush. The women were silent for a while, and Artemis finished her food and drink. Sister Karma reached out, taking a few strands of Artemis’ hair in her fingers, “It would appear your ordeal has left its mark upon you,” she said. Indeed, the Princess’ hair, which had been as spun gold, was now so white as to be nearly translucent. “It suits you,” Sister Raya said with a smile, “I find it very distinguished.” The remaining Sisters arrived, bearing her clothes and weapons. Artemis rose from the pool with some assistance from the Sisters. She expected to be weaker than she was, but then remembered
what her mother had told her. She should expect to recover more quickly from such things now. She dried herself with a towel, then set about getting dressed. As she finished dressing, she felt an itch on her forehead. She scratched, and was surprised to discover the Passage Crystal still embedded in her flesh. “Yes,” Sister Tan told her, “it appears to be a part of you now. When you first fell ill, we thought it might have been at fault, but when we tried to remove it, you got worse. I don’t think it is possible to remove it.” “But, what is it doing there?” Artemis couldn’t help touching it. It didn’t hurt, and if not for the slight itch every so often, she wouldn’t have known it was there at all. Sister Terine shrugged, “We cannot be certain. At the very least, you should be able to travel between the realms of mortals and those of the Otherworld with ease. None of the doors to Faery will ever be closed to you again.” “As to what other properties it may possess, we have no idea,” Sister Tan said, “Such things will, no doubt reveal themselves in time.” She lay a hand on Artemis’ shoulder and looked the young princess in the eye. “You have been through much that would have destroyed lesser mortals. You are still becoming all that you are. It is clear your time as part of the Redeemer has contributed to this evolution. Where the process will stop, and what you will be when it does,” she spread her arms wide, “no one can say.” Artemis nodded. “But now I am afraid it is time for you to leave us once more,” Sister Karma said, helping Artemis with her sword and belt, “and this time it is the Lands of mortals that you travel through, yet you may find them even more treacherous than where you have been.” “Ajax waits for you at the edge of the clearing,” Sister Raya said, “He will guide you to where the Great Wood meets the Wild Lands. There he will summon a guide to lead you through that wilderness to a place from which you can reach the Solarian monastery in safety. The Nazeans have spread their hold over the Land Vega in your absence, and it is not safe for you to travel in the open.” Before she left them, the Sisters gathered around to embrace Artemis. She hugged them each in turn, her cheeks wet. “Thank you all so much,” she said, “for everything you have done.” “Nonsense, dear,” Sister Kaatene said, “it is we who should thank you. We are honored to have been part of your journey.” “The Time of Changes is at hand,” Sister Karma said, “and you will be among the architects of those changes. Remember all you have learned here, and it will serve you well.” Then their goodbyes were finished, and Artemis left the clearing. She and Ajax walked together in silence. He seemed lost in his surroundings, and Artemis found herself going over all that had happened in her mind. She felt nothing at all like the young woman who had been thrown from the tall tower of the castle back in Vega, but she was a little bit frightened of what she was becoming. “We are here,” Ajax said, breaking their silence. He pointed down a winding game trail, “Follow this trail,” he told her, “I have already summoned your guide. She will find you soon enough.” Artemis bid farewell to the Huntsman, and continued on her own. It was easy to tell where the Great Wood ended and the Wild Lands began. The forest lost its otherworldly quality, seeming more solid and real, while at the same time, the trees took on strange shapes. Odd scents and sounds came to her, and bizarre creatures moved in the shadows. She sensed its mind before it attacked, but she still had no time to defend herself before she was flat on her back, a hideous woman covered in scales crouched on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground. Artemis thought her attacker resembled the unfortunate offspring of a human and an alligator, and made the assumption that this was not the guide Ajax had spoken of. Great jaws filled with sharp teeth opened and a low rasping hiss echoed from deep in the alligator woman’s throat. “So considerate,” she growled, “for my dinner to walk so eagerly into my mouth.”

  Daughter of the Wild Clan

  Artemis forced the alligator woman off of her and leaped to her feet, sword drawn. Her opponent hissed and lunged for the princess, long sharp claws at the ready. Artemis dodged aside and swung her sword around to crack her reptilian foe in the back of the head. The scaly hide was too thick - and the alligator woman merely stumbled forward a few steps. Artemis sensed another mind approaching and a large jungle cat crashed out of the underbrush, tackling the humanoid lizard to the ground. The two fought fiercely, but in the end it was the cat who was the stronger. With deep gashes in her hide, the alligator woman fled into the forest, screaming curses as she ran. Artemis approached the giant cat, which was black with a long purple streak running down its back, only to have it transform into a young woman dressed in leather and furs, with two long knives hanging from the belt at her waist. Her thick hair was long and black, and had a similar purple streak in it. “A werecat,” Artemis gasped. “A princess,” the woman mocked. “I’m sorry,” Artemis said, “I have heard only-” “You have heard only legends of my kind,” the younger woman said, “You would do well to become accustomed to seeing your legends brought to life. There is much in the Wild Lands that would defy the imagination.” She held out her hand, “I am Sa’raa, Warrior-Daughter of the Great Monga, and if you are Artemis Vega, I am also your guide.” Artemis gripped Sa’raa’s forearm, “I am Artemis Vega,” she said, “and I appreciate your guidance as well as your grant of passage through these lands.” Sa’raa laughed, “Passage is not mine to grant, outlander. It is the Monga who allows your trespass.” “The ‘Monga’?” Artemis raised an eyebrow, “I know that word.” The young warrior indicated they should continue. As they walked, Sa’raa explained. “It is an ancient word, used to designate clan chiefs since the days before the Solarians came,” she led Artemis off the trail, on to a different hidden path, “It means ‘Anointed Woman of Divine Leadership’ and is the root of your word ‘Monarch’.” Artemis nodded, “So, you keep the ancient ways, then?” Sa’raa shrugged, “Those still of value to us.” “What was that thing that attacked me?” Artemis asked. Sa’raa growled, then spit on the ground, “That was Nan, last of the vile Gator Women, who were themselves the final remnant of an ancient evil, one my people have been proud to exterminate.” Hatred burned in the young woman’s eyes, “She has managed to escape us time and again, but I have sworn that she will die. By tooth, claw or blade, she will die.” For a while neither spoke. It was clear an old yet still fresh wound had been opened by the question, and Artemis sought to change the subject. “And how did your people come to live in the-” Artemis stopped, becoming aware of a strange mind just as Sa’raa paused to sniff the air. “Down!” she hissed, pulling Artemis behind some bushes. A great crashing of trees could be heard, as well as the thudding footfalls of an enormous creature. After some waiting, a golem lumbered into view. On its back, it bore several tiny duplicates of itself, all of them locked in fierce battle with one another. “Only one will emerge from that fight victorious,” Sa’raa whispered, “and that one will use pieces of its siblings to grow to full size. Once mature, the child golem will leave its parent forever, and strike off on its own.” The odd family stomped off into the distance, the sound of its steps eventually fading. The two women left their hiding place and continued their journey. “You were about to ask how we came to live here,” Sa’raa said after some moments of silence, “We have always been here. My family has ruled our village since time long forgotten. When the Mad Wizard was finally defeated centuries ago, and all his fell creations imprisoned in what would become the Wild Lands, my ancestors refused to leave. They remained, and the Wild Lands grew up around their village.” She drew herself up proudly, “We have acted as guardians of these Lands for generations, becoming as one with the magic of this place and keeping the Mad Wizard’s creatures from running amok throughout your cities.” Artemis shook her head in disbelief, “I had always been told the Wild Lands were uninhabited.” Sa’raa laughed again, “Hardly,” she said, “Many remained while others fled. There are other villages scattered throughout these Lands, as well as the mighty nomadic warrior tribes to the north. Our War Chief and consort to the Monga is originally from there. Some ten years ago, he and my mother slew the Mad Wizard
himself amid the ruins of a great lost city deep in the western jungles.” “Wait,” Artemis said, eyes wide, “the Mad Wizard has been alive all these centuries?” Sa’raa nodded, “Alive, though less than well. He was aged beyond reckoning, yet still mucking about with the natural order of things. The Monga and her War Chief stopped his vile attempts to create a race of predatory birdmen, finally dispatching him as the ruins collapsed around them.” She grinned wickedly, “His head adorns a pike before the gates to our village.” Artemis was amazed. She had thought the Wild Lands a great wilderness. To know there were people and cultures thriving here... “Sa’raa,” she said at last, “My time is short, and my urgent quest not yet completed. When the soul of my beloved rests within his own body, and the Land Vega is mine once more, I should very much like to visit here again, and seek audience with your mother, the Great Monga.” The young warrior-woman grinned, “You are skilled in statecraft, that much is certain,” she said, “and I am sure my mother would welcome you into our hall.” She looked troubled then, and frowned, “There have been strangers in the Wild Lands of late. Armed men who march under the banner of a bloody sword. It is believed they have even found a way to break the spell of binding and released one of the golem!” Artemis nodded, “They are the Nazeans, occupiers these past twenty years of the Land Zill. It was they who took my Land from me and murdered my father. I am also convinced they had a hand in the theft of Kael’s soul.” An angry fire blazed in her eyes, and Sa’raa looked upon her with sympathy. They came then to the edge of the forest, and the foothills of a great mountain range. “I know these hills,” Artemis exclaimed, “the Solarian monastery is but a day’s journey to the south!” “Then make haste, Artemis Vega,” Sa’raa said, “and when you have taken back what is yours, return to these woods and call for me. I will lead you to the hall of the Great Monga, where I know she will greatly value your counsel.” “Thank you,” Artemis bowed slightly, “I will return as soon as I am able. How will I call for you?” Sa’raa touched the side of her head, “Though I am no telepath, I am sensitive to the thoughts of those who are. Your thoughts are strong,” she said, “and you should have no trouble reaching me no matter where I may travel.” They made their final farewells, and Sa’raa vanished into the forest. Artemis started walking into the foothills toward the south. Soon she would be among her people and Kael would be whole once again. “And then, dear Archbishop,” she whispered into the wind, “you will be taught the supreme folly of stealing from Artemis Vega.”