The Grand Illusion
“The first thing you must understand,” Solar said, “is that we didn’t create the universe initially.” They were still on the hill under the tree, but the picnic had vanished, and Solar was now drawing complex three-dimensional diagrams in the air using light. Luna leaned against the trunk of the tree, apparently dozing, and Artemis sat in the grass, paying rapt attention. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of the diagrams, so she focused on the words. They weren’t making much sense, either. “Initially?” Artemis asked. “Right,” Solar answered, “Initially, the universe formed as most tend to,” he continued, “A great explosion of creation develops chance and probability, creating opportunity, which leads to potential and finally,” he drew out a sketch of a man inside a circle, his limbs making the shape of a five-pointed star, “evolution.” “But this universe had a power within itself, one humankind evolved to manipulate,” Luna spoke up from beneath the tree. She regarded Artemis evenly, meeting her daughter’s eyes. “Using that power,” she said, “humanity remade the universe.” “How?” Artemis was starting to feel lost, and this was with all her divine intelligence working. “By creating us,” Luna gestured between herself and Solar. “What?” Artemis gaped at them. “Human tribal wise men, or cunning women, crafted myths and legends to explain the unexplainable,” Solar told her, “because of the power some call the Spark, these humans were able to reshape reality itself, causing us to come in to being as the eternal Creators of the universe.” “But how could they-” “Faith,” Luna answered, “Enough humans came to believe the myths and legends, that eventually the myths and legends became real.” “So,” Artemis pointed from one to the other, “you exist...” “Because humans believe we do,” Solar finished her thought. “Then, you didn’t give birth to four godlike beings, who mated with prehistoric apemen to give rise to the people of Amorlia?” Artemis said to Luna, thinking she was starting to get a handle on all this. “Don’t be silly,” Luna said with a small smile, making it clear she wasn’t, “of course I did. Just not until the people of Amorlia believed I did.” “Okay,” Artemis felt the conversation slipping away from her. She turned back to Solar, “So, Kael’s people...” “Definitely existed,” he nodded, “though they, too, were a human creation. There actually was a great rock that hovered above the southern continent. It was a remnant of planetary formation, I suppose. Too close to be a proper satellite, too far out to have been pulled back down by the planet’s gravity. The people of the tribes in those days didn’t know any of that, of course. They just knew there was a great massive rock hanging in the sky above their heads, and they wanted to know that it wasn’t going to suddenly fall on them.” Solar shrugged, “So they went to their local wise people and were told the legend of the Sol Ky Taan.” He chuckled, “Within a generation, it was true, and always had been.” A thought struck Artemis then, “What about Umbra?” “Ah,” Solar smiled ruefully, “now we get to the heart of it. Umbra is dangerous,” he said, “and if she is involved in this war of yours, you will need all the power you can muster to face her.” “Why?” Artemis asked, “She was easy enough to defeat in the Underworld.” “Of course she was,” Luna said, “she was imprisoned there. You didn’t think we’d seal her in a prison that allowed her to retain her full power, did you?” “Well, I,” Artemis cleared her throat and looked around nervously, “um, no?” “If Umbra manifests in the mortal world,” Solar warned, “she will be at her most powerful. The mortal world is her true domain, for she is the sum of all human evil.” “I don’t understand,” Artemis said. “We were created,” Luna explained, sitting up, “to give reason to the inexplicable. We were convenient explanations when the shaman couldn’t think of anything else. But Umbra,” she shook her head, “Umbra was created with a specific purpose. She would personify all that was wrong with humanity. “At first,” Luna continued, “she simply took the blame for things. Bad harvest? Queen Umbra did it. Your father dies unexpectedly for no reason? Queen Umbra took him. Then,” Luna said, “her role began to change. Soon, she became responsible not just for the evils that befell humankind, but the evil they did. And that was when she became most powerful.” “Her legend began to insinuate itself into ours,” Solar told the young monarch, “Soon she became the embodiment of all evil, and was set loose on our past and future, tainting all our triumphs and exacerbating all our failures.” “Human belief in her is even stronger than in us,” Luna warned, “They need her in ways they will never need us. To deny the existence of Umbra would be to accept their own evil.” She looked knowingly at Artemis, “Very few are capable of such honesty.” “The cave,” Artemis gasped. Luna nodded, “The evil she is given empowers her, but also gives her access to a person’s soul. By embracing the Shadow, you took hold of your own evil. She could not possess it, and was therefore denied your soul. She will never have power over you in that way.” “But, couldn’t you help?” Artemis asked, “Couldn’t you come to the mortal world and fight her?” “No,” Solar shook his head, “As we said, we must leave.” “Leave for where?” Artemis was getting confused again. “We will rejoin the Spark,” Luna explained, “We will simply cease to exist, our energies returning to the universe.” “Why?” Luna sighed, “It is time for us to go,” she said, “We have, in fact, remained past our time. Humans have begun to learn more about the Spark itself. There are people who can touch the Spark directly, without working through us.” “It was the superhumans, really,” Solar said, “Once they began to appear, we should have known we were no longer needed. In fact, I believe we will do more damage if we stay.” “How so?” “When our followers first met,” Luna began, “so many thousands of years ago, they very nearly went to war. Only our direct intervention, through our priests and priestesses, managed to stave off a bloody conflict. There was much made of the unity between the faiths, but soon enough the two began to drift apart. The Solarian faith came to dominate the cities, while my followers hid themselves away from the world, clinging to ancient dogma to the detriment of their progress. And look at this nonsense among the Hunt,” she continued, growing frustrated, “all because of one jilted godling. Then Nazeas...” her frustration turned to sadness, “Poor Nazeas,” she said. “What happened to Nazeas?” Artemis looked around, expecting the dead philosopher king to appear. “Oh, he’s not here,” Solar said, “we’ve had to seal him in conceptual stasis, the poor bastard. He keeps developing new aspects as new sects devoted to his worship continue to spring up, often at direct odds with each other.” “We’re taking him into the Spark with us,” Luna explained, “it should do him no end of good.” “Wait,” Artemis stood, determined to bring this conversation back to solid footing, “This is all very interesting, but you said this information would aid me in my battle with Umbra. How?” Luna also stood, coming to join Solar. “You’ll need to figure that out when the time comes,” she said, “but now, come give me one last hug. Our time is finally over, and I want to say goodbye to you properly.” Artemis hugged her mother tight, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks, “Mother,” she whispered. “Shh,” Luna stroked her hair, her own radiant tears falling, “You’ll be okay. You don’t need us anymore than the humans do.” “But I’ll miss you,” Artemis said, sobbing. “And I you, sweetheart,” Luna replied quietly, “for as long as I’m able.” They parted, and Artemis turned to bow to Solar. The sun god bowed in return, then hugged Artemis quickly. “Take good care of them, Artemis,” he told her, “Though humanity are leaving their childhood behind and no longer need their omniscient parents taking care of them, they are still going to need someone to guide them through what will no doubt be,” he winked, “a very troubled adolescence.” He smiled, and he and Luna began to fade. Blue-white sparks danced along the edges of their luminous bodies as they became one with the Spark. Solar’s voice echoed out of the void one last time. “Tell Kael I’m counting on him too. We’re counting on both of you to look after them.” “We will,” Artemis whispered into a growing wind, “I promise.” The last wisps of
energy vanished, leaving Artemis alone on a windy hill. Dark clouds moved across a grey sky. Then the Summerland was rent asunder by the most violent storm ever seen in all the worlds. As the abandoned afterlife exploded around her, Artemis felt herself thrown backward through Infinity, screaming as she tumbled into chaos.
Ki-Mon vs the Gator Woman
Carola Delas held the head of the Mad Wizard in her hands. The corrupted lantern of the Signalman had made short work of the charm that held it in place, though even that mighty artifact could not break through the wards protecting the gate to the Wild Clan’s village. It didn’t matter. Now that all three items were in her possession, Carola and her undead crew had other places to be. Though, that didn’t mean they couldn’t leave whomever remained in the village a little present. She looked down at the wretched thing before her. “For aiding us in crossing through the wards about Wild Lands, I reward you with the spoils of this village. My crew and I have eaten the guards,” she said, “and it will be some time before they are missed. Though the much stronger wards around the village keep all fell creatures such as myself from entering, you should have no trouble.” Nan looked up at the walking corpse before her. She was not something one would want to look at for long, this undead airship captain, nor were her crew. But Nan didn’t have to look at them. All she cared about was that these things had cleared her a path to the inner sanctum of her most hated enemies. She growled and turned away from Carola’s rotting visage, walking over to the small group of former Nazean soldiers-turned-mercenaries she’d found wandering the backroads of the outer Lands. “You know your part in this, yes?” she hissed. The men nodded, some uneasily. They’d never seen anything like the Gator-Woman before, and they hoped they never would again. Their leader cleared his throat, “Uh, yes,” he said, “We’re to handle any fighters left behind and kill any villagers we come across, but the one in charge is yours.” “Good boy,” Nan said with what passed for a smile, “It will probably be the eldest daughter. The Monga is no doubt off with the rest of her wretched brood fighting your former countrymen.” She bared her sharp teeth and laughed. It was a horrible sound. “It’s too bad I won’t get to kill her right away, but imagine the look on her face when she returns home to find me on her throne, her daughter nailed up to the wall and her grandchildren on my dinner plate!” Carola approached then, and the mercenaries nearly fell over themselves trying to back away. They’d take the alligator woman over the abominations any day. The undead woman and the monster conferred a while, then Carola returned to her airship. As it flew off toward the southeast, Nan walked toward the unguarded gate. All that remained of the guards were their bones, and many of those had been cracked open to get at the marrow. The mercenaries shuddered. The commander forced himself to think of the treasure and followed his employer. The village seemed deserted. Though most of its denizens had left to join the battle in Drego, it was assumed there would still be children and old folks about. Equally disturbing was the lack of any warriors. At least some of them should have remained behind to guard the village. As it was, the commander could have sworn everyone had left. A cursory examination of the outer buildings revealed that they also must have taken their belongings with them. No plunder could be found anywhere in the village. A subcommander confronted Nan over this, greed making him brave. “You told us there would be treasure and spoils,” he growled at her, standing in front of her and pushing her backward, “All I see are empty homes and deserted streets!” Nan smiled, cracked leather lips curling back from long sharp teeth, “Yes,” she hissed, “I can see how that would bother you. Allow me to respond.” She lunged at him, faster than any human could manage, and tore out his throat with her teeth. The subcommander fell to the ground, gurgling. His feet twitched a few times and then he was still. Nan regarded the others, their comrade’s blood dripping from her mouth. “Does anyone else wish to voice a concern?” she asked. There was no answer. “Good,” she said, her long forked tongue licking her lips, “now keep quiet and follow me. They’re obviously all hiding, and I think I know where.” When Nan and her soldiers entered the main hall, they found the Ki- Mon sitting comfortably on the throne, going over some documents and casually finishing her midday meal. She looked up as the intruders entered, smiling. “Ah,” she said, “there you are.” Nan hissed excitedly as she began pacing back and forth across the room. The large table normally at the center of the hall had been pushed against the wall, leaving a wide open area before the throne. “Call out your warriors, Ki-Mon,” she taunted, “Call them out so my men may do battle with them, or we will burn this village to the ground.” “Will you now?” the Ki-Mon’s smile grew crooked and mocking, “My, but we are awfully confident, Nan.” She shrugged, “It matters little, however. There are no warriors here save myself.” “No warriors at all?” Nan laughed, and the mercenaries joined in. One or two had begun to leer at the Ki-Mon. Nan stepped closer to the throne, “So, you are defenseless.” “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?” the Ki-Mon said absently. With a casual wave, she called out, “Children? Why don’t you show our guests how defenseless we aren’t.” Suddenly, a hail of arrows flew out of the shadows. When Nan looked around, each of her mercenaries had an arrow embedded in his left eye. When the last of them fell to the floor, dead, the Ki-Mon rose from her seat and walked slowly toward the reptilian invader. “There,” she said, her smile turning wicked as she drew a long knife from its sheath, “now it’s just us girls.” The doors to the hall slammed shut, and the Ki-Mon assumed a fighting stance. She gestured for Nan to approach. “Well?” she asked, “aren’t you going to attack me? I’d appreciate you being quick about it. Killing you is only one of the things I have to do today.” Nan looked frantically around, searching for a way out of this trap. She saw a row of children on either side of the room, all glaring at her. Some held spears and began to pound the floor with them. The children all began to chant in time with the pounding, “Ki-Mon! Ki- Mon! Ki-Mon! Ki-Mon!” As the chanting continued, Nan grew more frantic, while the Ki- Mon’s smile grew wider. Nan, resenting the Ki-Mon’s apparent serenity, sought to rattle her opponent. “Do you miss your father, little whore?” she hissed, “He was delicious, incidentally.” “So were your sisters,” the Ki-Mon replied, her smile never so much as slipping. “Do you miss them, you ugly bitch?” With an angry roar, Nan launched herself at the Ki-Mon, and the fight began. The chanting became cheering, as the gathered children became excited at the prospect of watching a fight to the death. Nan slashed with her claws and the Ki-Mon dodged before lunging in with her knife. Nan leaped back out of the way, then back in to attack again. Her claws drew blood as she raked them across her opponent’s face, though the Ki-Mon responded by carving a deep gash in Nan’s chest with her knife. And so the fight went, back and forth, attack and defend, each drawing blood from the other, but neither doing much significant damage. The children had quieted down now, intently watching the fight, fresh concern crossing their young faces each time the Ki-Mon took a hit. Finally, Nan seized an opening, clamping down on the Ki-Mon’s shoulder with her powerful jaws. The Ki-Mon howled in pain as the Gator-Woman’s teeth went deep enough to scrape bone. Snarling, she drove her knife again and again into Nan’s stomach and chest, at last driving the blade deep into her neck. The Ki-Mon felt the pressure of Nan’s jaws lessen slightly and took the opportunity to pry them open and push her attacker back. She slammed the massive jaws shut and, with every ounce of strength she could muster, twisted the reptilian woman’s head around until she heard the neck snap. She dropped the limp dead form of her adversary to the floor, stumbling back to fall against the throne. The bite on her shoulder throbbed and had begun to burn. The venom of the Gator Women was highly poisonous, and she would need to do something about it soon. “Col,” she called out to her young son, who rushed over, dropping the spear he was holding, “Summon your Aunt Trae. The bait...” she felt woozy, and the room spun, “the bait has been taken, but Trae needs to hurry if she wishes to... to reach the battle and spring her
trap.” The burning in her shoulder was getting worse, and she slid further toward the floor, unable to hold herself up. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she managed to finish her instructions, “But... before you... do that, s-summon... Anya.” Her blurred vision settled on Nan’s dead body and she smiled again, albeit weakly, “And have the tanner... visit when he is... able,” she murmured, “I have a... job... for...” Her surroundings began to fade in her sight, but she was confident Anya would reach her in time. This was hardly the first Gator Woman bite she’d suffered. As consciousness left her, she saw her son leading her youngest sister into the throne room. She smiled again, taking pleasure in the thought that, though it may not be her first bite, it would definitely be the last. That wretched species was finally extinct.
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