Blood Wars

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  He’s getting rid of the priests and mages. Those loyal to Ares. Cleaning house, in short. A way to avoid traitors and turncoats in the future. And a lesson to the rest.

  Tyler didn’t even hear a death cry from any of those being executed by Deimos. But he was far enough from the Dorians to miss the sounds of dying priests and mages. Then Deimos again appeared in front of the army. He couldn’t tell if the armor was bloody because of its color. The dark gray crest on top of the battle-god’s helmet did sport some streaks of red.

  “DOES ANYBODY ELSE DARE?”

  At his words, the front rows knelt and bowed, followed by the rest. The creatures accompanying the army were all but gone, noticed Tyler. He didn’t know if they ran away upon the removal of the power from Ares, or upon the appearance of Deimos. He figured it was the former as the power that bound them was from Ares.

  “GO HOME. PREPARE MY TEMPLES. REMOVE ALL TRAPPINGS OF ARES. THE TEMPLES OF DEIMOS ARE NOT THE PLACE FOR THE EMBLEMS OF THE GOD OF COWARDICE!”

  Now that’s a show, he thought as Deimos disappeared. The enemy host had now turned and started to gather its supplies and sundry items for the long trek home.

  So! Ares has now lost his influence over the beasts and warlike creatures. Deimos would need to bring them to heel again. That’s good for Akrotiri and other cities. Especially for the Pelasgoi. A time to rebuild and prepare.

  Then he remembered something. His gaze involuntarily fell on the ring of Ares. The one which held some of his power over the Ismenian drakontes.

  The mage turned to his companions. Wryly smiling, he saw the mixed surprise and confusion on their faces. After recovering slightly from the spectacle they just witnessed, they turned to Tyler.

  “Well, that’s that. Long story. Let’s go back to the city,” he said. Tyler started walking back to the gate. The two hurriedly took up their guard positions, Habrok in front and Astrid at the rear. He knew they have questions. A lot of them, but he had more important concerns at hand. He let his mind dwell on them as he moved along the bloody and death-filled ground. He was careful to avoid stepping into the bodies and parts of men, giants, and fell creatures alike.

  “Astrid? Please tell the commander to make it a priority to get rid of the bodies on the field. Burn them. They will bring disease and other illnesses if left to rot. The sooner they’re gone, the better. Tell him to get rid of the bloody soil too.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  As they neared the entrance, Tyler saw workers already busy with the gate and walls. The damaged gate panel was supported by a large wooden frame as the masons built new hinges for it. The impromptu barricade was still in place though it had been improved by over-lapping shields along its front. As he looked at the walls, he saw hoplons and bits of armor covering damaged portions. The improvised buttresses of the bowmen and javelin men were still in place.

  That Pelasgian knows his job. Astrid chose an excellent warrior as commander. Unfortunately, he would just be a temporary leader. Akrotiri would never accept a foreigner being in charge of one of its gates.

  “Habrok,” he called out. “Tell the king that I recommend the Pelasgian commander of this gate as his adviser in fortifying the city. For a year, at least.”

  “Yes, sire,” Habrok replied.

  Anyway, their fear of Dionysus would keep the Pelasgoi from doing anything stupid, Tyler thought.

  The barricade was moved aside as they entered. Astrid had a quick conversation with the Pelasgian warrior as Tyler and Habrok waited. As Astrid came back, he noticed the weathered face of the Pelasgian wearing a huge smile.

  “I guess you told him about being adviser?” he asked Astrid.

  “Yes, sire. He’ll do the gate job better and faster. I do get the impression he’s a good leader. He treats the Akrotiri soldiers no different from Pelasgians. Strict but fair.”

  “Marks of a good commander then,” commented Tyler as he continued walking back to the inn. He intended to wash up and wear his armor first before going to Jorund’s body. They all got their respective equipment together back in Scarburg. It’s only fitting that he wears it when paying his last respects to the man. However, deep inside, Tyler knew Jorund’s spirit would probably chastise him for being unarmored if he shows up without it.

  As they got to the inn, its porch being a few steps away, two women rushed to him. They only stopped when Astrid’s xiphos blocked their way. Habrok came back, longsword drawn, and joined Astrid. Tyler watched the two young women. The mage noticed that the street was empty.

  “My lord, please help us! You look like a mage or a healer. Our sister and mother were bitten by those flying creatures. An ailment befalls both! We don’t know what to do or where to turn!”

  Astrid left the women and went to Tyler. Habrok’s longsword was still barring their path.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong, sire. But they smell different,” whispered Astrid. The Valkyrie took a guard position to his right.

  Tyler again examined the women. They looked beautifully human, but he noticed that at times, their features blurred for a second and then returned to normal. He leaned towards Astrid.

  “I think you’re right. Go assist Habrok and tell him what’s going on,” he whispered.

  Astrid strode forward. At the movement, Habrok looked at Astrid. Tyler saw Astrid give a hand signal. At the gesture, Habrok visibly changed his stance. When Astrid was close to Habrok, he addressed the two women.

  “Don’t worry. I will help you as much as I can. But you look famished. Come, have a quick lunch at the inn. Or get food for yourselves and your family. The cost to me. It’s the least I could do.”

  “Don’t mind us, lord. We can manage. Please follow us! Our sister and mother need you! It is urgent!”

  While the woman was talking, Tyler’s invisible and inquisitive tendrils had already reached the two. As the first touched the woman, he immediately recoiled in disgust. It was an incredibly revolting feeling. The touch gave him the impression of smelling and handling rotting flesh and decaying congealed blood. It was like poking your hand inside an unknown space in the dark and discovering by touch an abandoned but full charnel house. He suppressed the gag reflex, but his hand unwillingly covered his mouth. He cut the connection immediately.

  “Watch out! They’re dangerous!” shouted Tyler as the beginnings of two large blades shimmered above him. That was all he could say. He didn’t know what the beings were.

  But even before he could form the blades completely, one of the women had already lost her head to Astrid’s xiphos, blood spurting from the stump as it fell to the ground. The other woman launched itself at Habrok who immediately moved to greet the being with the point of his sword. As the woman impaled herself, she was already changing to her real form. A humanoid with extended claws for fingers, a dry husk of a body with emaciated breasts, and a horrid distorted face distinguished by the numerous and jagged fangs which lined her extremely wide disjointed mouth. Her over-all skin tone was that of the grave, a mottled gray of various shades. The long hair was stringy white and gray and reached down her back. Parts of it had swung forward when Habrok’s sword stopped her lunge.

  “The head! You need to cut off her head!” shouted Astrid as she ran to the ranger. Tyler let fly the formed blades at the woman’s head. As they hit, one sliced off half of the head while the other buried itself at the creature’s neck. Habrok kicked the body off his sword.

  Worse than empusas! Uglier too! And can also freaking disguise themselves!

  Tyler noticed movement from some houses at the back of the women. He could see five more quickly moving forward with inhuman speed. He immediately launched a small fireball in front of the incoming creatures. He was surprised to see that though they were thrown back, they rapidly recovered and continued to rush them.

  AW, SHIT.

  He launched a small blizzard of blades at the five creatures. Most of the small knives struck the bodies of the beings, but only one was stopped, its head sliced by several
of the projectiles. Habrok and Astrid ran to Tyler’s front, trying to block the approaching foes.

  “LAMIAS!” shouted Astrid.

  Tyler prepared another blade spell. Lamias? What the freak are those? And they’re not easy to kill!

  Then suddenly, each creature’s head sprouted either an arrow or a javelin, one after the other. All four were thrown back to the ground and stayed there, unmoving.

  Two figures rushed at the fallen lamias and proceeded to cut off their heads. The three companions were bewildered at the turn of events.

  “Hello, First Mage. Did I get your new title right?” a voice sounded on his right side. He turned and saw Eleos. The man was dressed in a strange manner, dappled gray and black fitting trousers bound at the ankles with a matching long-sleeved shirt tied at the wrists. The man wore a headscarf of the same design though it covered his entire head. The part covering his face was left open as he greeted Tyler. Eleos was smiling.

  “Eleos!” exclaimed Tyler and he went and hugged the man. “I haven’t seen you for some time!”

  “I have been busy, First Mage. Training and then, a task, and after that, yet another task.”

  “I heard about that,” said the mage with a grin. “That was impressive. But what are you doing here? It’s a welcome surprise by the way. Thanks!”

  “My current task. Those lamias and others like them. Something must have stirred them up. They’ve been infiltrating Akrotiri and probably other cities. That group was the last for Akrotiri. I have been trying to track them and didn’t expect their nest to be near the inn.”

  “First time I saw this kind of creature.”

  “That’s what’s strange. They usually don’t enter cities. They keep to isolated places and hunt paths, villages, and places in the countryside. They rely on their magical disguises to waylaid victims or their numbers and ferocity to raid small caravans. After Akrotiri, we have to help clean out other cities.”

  “We?”

  “I have recruited acolytes. I can’t do the tasks required of me by myself. Though I have to admit they still have a long way to go,” replied Eleos, indicating the two similarly garbed individuals gathering the lamia bodies.

  “You know, I have to say you do look like ninjas. Fabled assassins back where I came from.”

  “I haven’t heard of them here. But this garb does help with concealment. Practical. Also helps eliminate any noise our armor makes.”

  “You wear armor inside that?”

  “Of course, though leather for the most part. If those fellows make it, then they’ll be given enchanted leather armor and weapons.”

  Tyler looked at the acolytes of Eleos. They were piling the heads.

  “Why only the heads?”

  “We have to burn them immediately. No telling how long before the body awakes and tries to look for its head.”

  That’s a freaking sight for a nightmare!

  Astrid and Habrok were already positioned near Tyler. They were busy looking around. The lamia ambush was another close one.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Aside from lamias, a few vrykolakas got in the city. We already dealt with them. But one can never tell if there’s a few more outside the city. Be careful.”

  And what the hell is a vrykolakas?

  Chapter Lore:

  Lamia – Greek. The word “lamia” was the name of a queen who became a child-eating demon. Myth mentions Lamia as a mistress of Zeus who became the target of Hera’s anger. Differing versions of her creation exist. One being she was transformed by Hera and another mention that her children were stolen by Hera, maddening her into eating children. Eventually, she did turn into one. There are several, and widely different, descriptions of lamias. Some credit lamias with serpent’s tails, like empusas. Others make lamias out to be similar to vampires. The version in this story adopts features from the various depictions of the creature.

  Vrykolakas – Greek. An undead creature in Greek mythology. Surprisingly, the myth exists not only in Greece but also in neighboring countries. It does drink blood like vampires of legend. There are many accounts of burials in Greece in which the dead were buried with spikes through their bodies, supposedly to prevent them from being vrykolakas.

  Chapter VIII

  Departures

  “I guess you weren’t around when Akrotiri got more interesting,” Tyler commented.

  “Unfortunately, no. I was in Kriti. When I came back, the goddess forbade me from being involved in the fighting. Instead, she told me about the influx of lamias and other fell creatures. They’re a more dangerous threat. If they start to multiply and increase in number, Hellas would be their country. Not of men.”

  “Do you have time to join us at the inn?”

  “I’ll meet you at the Palace square. A good man needs to be sent off to the afterlife properly. Meanwhile, I have to make sure the lamias and their ilk are truly gone,” replied Eleos. The god of assassins and fear whistled sharply. A small wagon came out from the side of the inn.

  “Goodbye for now, First Mage. I have also to make sure the bodies are disposed of properly.”

  Tyler saw one of the acolytes pour a liquid on the stacked heads. The pile burst into flames. He turned and walked into the inn, followed by his two companions.

  Lamias! Vrykolakas! And other creatures. Vampires, he said. As if the giants, trolls, ogres, and the rest I have encountered were not enough. And that freaking Yahui!

  “Guys! Is it this world full of such creatures?”

  “Yes, Elder. Though you have met only a few. There are more out there, not counting Adar’s own. But our congratulations on the First Mage title.”

  “How do people continue to survive here?” asked Tyler in an exasperated tone.

  “Humans are very resilient and resourceful. With humans having magic and the willingness to fight, such fell creatures will never dominate Adar.”

  “That’s good to know. And thanks for the congratulations.”

  “If we may, Elder. The truth is that the title is meaningless in your path to gain Elder knowledge. An Adar mage could continue on such a common and known venture. But the abilities of an Elder Archmage is beyond what even deities are capable of in the magical realm. An Elder Archmage, at the apex of his power, can bend and even remake this world’s reality. Even the outcasts have not reached such a level,” said Hal.

  “Remake reality?

  “Yes. And more. It is up to you to discover your abilities and the path to them. Binding yourself to this world’s definitions of magic will lead to a dead end.”

  “Thanks, X.”

  The revelations of his guides were astounding. But any glimmer of excitement was doused by the reminder of Jorund’s death and what he had gone through so far. The fact that Adar contained many creatures the like of which he couldn’t even imagine increased his despondency. He felt like Sisyphus, the mythological figure who had the never-ending task of rolling a boulder up a hill, only to find it moving down as he neared the top.

  First, Jorund. Who’s going to die next? Another burden on my conscience? I am not even at the apprentice level of Elder magic. How can I protect myself and my companions? How can I compete with many of the deities here. And stupid crisis areas keep popping up all over the place. And this freaking planet is huge!

  These thoughts and more accompanied him as he entered the inn. Only Danay was there, again minding the bar. He was so downcast that he merely waved at the man’s greeting. Tyler went straight to his room. His actions were mechanical at that point. The disturbing thoughts which earlier ran through his mind numbed him. He washed up and donned his armor then went down to the main hall.

  As he got there, Dionysus was waiting with Habrok and Astrid.

  “I see the face of a man about to be overwhelmed by the world,” quietly said the god of wine as he got near. Habrok and Astrid had already gone out to guard their way.

  “I am overwhelmed, Dionysus. The death of Jorund weighs heavily on me. The task given to me appears to in
dicate another death among those who accompany me. Not to mention my possible death. The Aztecah Empire appears to be a dangerously difficult quest. This succession of seemingly never-ending tasks has worn me down.”

  “Ah, I think I understand, First Mage,” said Dionysus as the two walked out the inn.

  “Look at it this way. Without you, Jorund and Habrok, among uncountable victims, would have been dead by now at the hands of Ymir’s hordes. Here in Hellas, without the sacrifice of Jorund, you would have arrived at an Akrotiri flying the Dorian flag with your other companions dead or captured. He gained time for you. Even your arrival would have been a fatal experience, appearing in the midst of a conquered city. The eradication of the Pelasgoi would have shortly followed. And thereafter, the beginning of the end for the rest of Hellas.”

  Tyler was silent.

  “The other gods have accepted your presence as a chance occurrence. A part of a great saga or an epic, if you ask the Greeks or the Norse. Me, I unfortunately mistrust Fortuna. Or Tyche, as she is known in Hellas. The mortal side of my mind argues that your presence is more than fate. Beyond that, I do not know. There have been too many occurrences lately which give me the feeling that many weavers have started on their last spool of thread.”

  “I feel like a leaf, blown here and there, depending on the wind,” said Tyler.

  “I really don’t know, my friend. But remember sometimes a wind is but a directed blast of air. The question should be – who’s doing the blowing? These gods don’t even see what’s happening right under their noses. But I do trust you. Regrettably, events seem to center around you. Threatening your life and soul as well as those close to you. I have seen it happen before. Heracles, Odysseus, and a lot of other characters. But this time it’s on a much bigger scale. So my only advice to you is to be stronger. That’s the only way to survive the coming storms and protect your friends. And that includes me,” replied Dionysus.