The God in the Shadows (The Story at the Heart of the Void Book 1)

by TorVald, Nikolas

  Hugging herself, she leaned against the broken wall of the building that made up the left side of her and Matt’s alley and took deep breaths of the semi-clean air. The stars were mostly obscured by smoke from the small fires people were burning day and night to keep out the damp, chilly air, but a few shone through. Staring up at them, she managed to lose herself and all her worries in the burning light. She had always felt connected to the stars in a strange way. They were so ethereal, so distant. None of the troubles that affected her in Redtower could do anything to those burning monoliths. After a while she sighed, turned, and slipped back into the alleyway. Lying down on the blanket, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  When Sara woke up the sun had not yet risen above the horizon line but it was still almost too late. She needed to be out and onto the main street before the sun rose if she wanted to make anything begging. Bolting upright in her ragged shift, she tore out of the alleyway and turned left down the street it linked to. She ran down the deserted path, broken houses and piles of wood showing what was street and what wasn’t. She kept her hand over her nose to keep out the repugnant smell of trash and human waste which was piled up all around her. This was the part of the city that no one who lived in Redtower like to talk about – the slums – where all the beggars and other undesirables went to hide through the night, everyone who couldn’t make an ‘honest’ living for themselves. Never mind that some people were born without the chance to make that living.

  Sara shot out of the slums and onto the street that everyone in the slums dubbed main street. It was the one street where the city guards allowed beggars to go, and every morning a few hundred men would have to travel down it to get from their homes to their jobs. Taking up her spot fifty feet to the left of the street she had just exited, Sara knelt down and looked around her. It was still too early for anyone respectable to be out, so she just stared at the buildings that were clustered on the other side. They were mansions, two stories high. Some of them were even made from the beautiful red brick that Redtower was famous for. Ivy had grown up the sides of them, giving a rich natural look and plants were placed in a beautiful fashion around the doors. The other houses were well built wood structures that Sara or anyone else in the slums would have killed for. In the street, there was no trash and the lane was wide enough to hold a horse and carriage. The street was made of cobblestones with neatly packed dirt filling in the seams between the bricks and there was absolutely no smell. That was Sara’s favorite part about going begging, the fact that nothing smelled. She sighed. She wished she could go to other places of the city to see what sort of buildings and people she could find. If this street was so beautiful, it stood to reason that there would be even better sights farther away from the slum.

  Sara shook herself back to reality as the first man started to make his way down the street. She settled back and held up her hands in a pleading gesture. All around her, beggars did the same. Trying to draw the man to her with her piercing, bright green eyes Sara looked on pleadingly. She almost thought he was going to stop and give her something but the man just moved on, staring with disgust at the beggars along the side of the road. All through the morning the same scene was repeated. Men would wander down the streets, the majority of them barely even looking over at where the beggars besmirched the beauty of their city. Every so often a man would walk over and toss a coin to one of the beggars. It was snatched up in an instant with cries of gratitude and desire from all around the lucky beggar. Then the man would hurry on, as though he hadn’t done it in the first place. There was a rule on Main Street that nobody could steal from the other beggars while begging. Inside the slums everybody became fair game and more than once Sara had been cornered and beaten for her coin. She’d gotten good at out running all the other beggars though, and that hadn’t happened in at least a year.

  As she was pondering, a man walked up to her, blue eyes gleaming strangely despite the clouds. A silver mane of hair fell down his back and he gave a wolfish smile as he tossed Sara a coin. She snatched it out of the air and gave a cry of gratitude for the man’s kindness. He nodded, tipped his cap at her and walked on. Looking down, Sara barely stifled a shout. He’d given her a silver! A whole silver mark! She’d never even seen one before; it was far larger and thicker than the few copper marks she and Matt had managed to save over the years. Sara carefully concealed the coin from the other beggars, who would never let her escape if they saw what she had, and turned back to the street. She composed her face as best she could to make it seem as though she had only been given the usual coinage and carried on begging.

  As the sun reached its peak, the beggars began to move away from Main Street. It was still gray and rainy out, making it miserable for anybody to be outside longer than they had to. The only targets today, and for the last month, had been those same businessmen who they had begged from already. Some of the beggars would be back out at night to try the same crowd, but in general the men became more snappish and might even lash out at the beggars after having to put in a full day’s work. Sara avoided that risk.

  Lost in her thoughts, she was almost the last person to leave the street. That was a mistake; there’d likely be several other slum dwellers waiting to jump her as soon as she stepped out of view of Main Street. Sara indulged in a small smile, they wouldn’t catch her there. Glancing around to make sure she was alone, she leapt up and grabbed the side of the high fence that marked off the slums from the rest of the city. It was the one costly ordinance the city had performed for its poor, separating them from everyone else so that the wealthy wouldn’t have to see the filth that infected their city. Pulling herself up using the cracks between the massive rocks of the wall Sara was quickly at the top and with a smooth twisting movement she levered herself to the other side. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself into the slums and dropped the ten feet to the dirty, shit filled alley that marked the start of her way back home. Looking around furtively, she took off running before forcing herself to slow to a trot. It wouldn’t do to act as though she had something valuable now. Taking deep breaths Sara calmed herself, she just had to act like she had gotten nothing from begging. As long as no one had seen the silver coin she’d be okay. But at every turn it felt like the groups of slum dwellers who were standing around watched her greedily, knowing eyes burning into the hand that tightly clutched the silver coin. Sara kept imagining the thud of footsteps behind her on the street whenever she turned a corner and by the time she got back to the alley she shared with Matt, she was a nervous wreck.

  Throwing the coin into the safe place where the rest of their meager savings were stored, a small hole in the ground underneath her stored food which was itself hidden under a wooden crate, Sara curled up on the ground and threw the sail cloth over her head, hiding from imagined stalkers. With shaky breaths, she finally calmed down enough to see reason and slowly withdrew the sail cloth. Looking out, there was nobody at the entrance to the alley, nobody trying to sneak up on her and beat her senseless. It was all fine. Scowling at herself for being so foolish Sara threw the sailcloth on the ground and leaned back against a wall to the alley. She stayed that way for a few moments, then she stood up and tried to think of how to pass the time. Struck with inspiration, she threw the sail cloth over the top of the wooden boards she’d wedged between the walls of the alley last night. Sara smiled at the structure, now made water proof thanks to her ingenuity. Pulling the blanket more under the boards and sail cloths, she tried to create a cozy nest like structure. It didn’t really work but at least less rain would fall on the blanket. She took a step back and stared happily at her work, then sagged back to the ground. That had taken all of two minutes, not exactly the time passing job she had wanted.

  Crawling back into her shelter Sara stared up at the ceiling of her structure in boredom. Things usually passed this way. She begged in the morning, and when she got back Matt had gone out to do odd jobs close to the slums. He came back after dark had fallen, they ate whateve
r he had found then went to sleep, curled up close for warmth. But that meant that Sara had close to eight hours before he got back. Most days she just sat in the alleyway but today she knew she couldn’t do that. It was too boring; some days something inside of her rebelled at the idea of being stuck in place for so long. Some days she just needed to move, to see something other than the broken walls of the slums all around her. Walking out of the alley, Sara moved down the street at a much more sedate pace than she had that same morning. She followed the same path she had taken to go begging and stepped out of the slums. Taking a left on main street she walked down the clean road towards an intersection where vendors were out selling their wares. Settling herself on a bench that overlooked the busy area she relaxed. She came here sometimes when the alleyway was feeling a little too cramped and she needed the fresh air. She always had a million different thoughts spinning through her head and when she just stayed in the alley, those thoughts could get overwhelming. Out here, it was possible to relax and find peace observing the way this small part of the city went about its business.

  The vendors had each pitched a tent around the outside corners of the intersection and every so often a person went into one of the tents to buy something. Half the time they came out with purchase in hand, half the time they left with nothing, shaking a fist at the tent they had exited. Suddenly, a small boy burst out of one of the tents with several pieces of fruit clutched tightly to his chest. The vendor ran out after him shouting loudly and pointing. Sara couldn’t hear the words, but she figured she knew what he was saying, ‘Thief! Stop! Thief!’

  As his shouts continued Sara looked over and saw a guardsman turning down the street at a run. She paled. She might not be a part of this theft but the guardsman wouldn’t care about that. Most of the men on the city guard were overgrown bullies who delighted in using their power to beat up anybody they saw ‘behaving contrary to proper city conduct.’ It didn’t matter that they were the ones who behaved the worst, they just kept beating up everybody else.

  As the man approached, Sara turned and started running. The guardsman looked up and saw her. Snatching up his stout wooden baton, painted black to look more like metal, he took off after her. His dirty leather boots thudded along the ground and his tunic and leggings made a rasping noise as they rubbed together. Just as he was catching up to her, Sara bolted through the entryway to the slums, for the second time that day terrified that someone was right on her heels. She ran as fast as she could for several streets, then looked back. The guardsman was nowhere in sight. Typical, they didn’t care about doing actual work, they just cared about catching a few helpless beggars or thieves who had nothing else to turn to. They would drag their catches back to the guardhouse and beat them to an inch of their lives, then let the hapless ‘criminals’ go free after deciding that they had told the truth under ‘questioning.’

  Sara returned to the alley, passing through the depressing landscape of broken buildings, and sat down. Bored, she waited the remaining several hours for Matt to show up. The time passed unbearably slowly, the adrenaline from her run and the panic that still threatened to overwhelm her made sure that everything seemed to take twice as long to happen as it really did. Finally, Matt showed up at the entrance to the alley. Sara had managed to calm herself down, so Matt didn’t notice anything when he sat down and handed her a piece of meat. “Found it behind The Stooge and Three,” he said by way of explanation to her surprised look, “Anything interesting happen here?”

  Sara nodded while trying to cram the piece of meat into her mouth. “I got a whole silver out on the street.” she said, keeping her voice down, which just made what she was saying more unintelligible.

  “What?” Matt asked, confused, “Eat before you talk, okay. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

  Sara finished the meat off and started again, “Some guy gave me a silver while I was begging.” she said again, still keeping her voice low.

  Matt’s face had surprise written all across it. Then he chuckled, “Must have been taken in by those witchy eyes of yours.” disbelief shone from his narrow face and his warm brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “I’m serious Matt, I got a silver while begging. Here, I’ll show you.” Sara said, annoyed by his amusement. She reached into the store for their coins and drew out the silver, showed it to him, then dropped it back in the hiding space.

  Matt’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the coin, “Lucky you.”

  “Should we spend it somewhere before you have to leave?” Sara asked him.

  “No, we have enough food here for you to subsist on without spending that. And we’ll need to be careful when we do because that much coinage is not something a vendor’s going to believe you got from begging. No, let’s wait on this one and spend it only when we have to.”

  Sara nodded, a little disappointed. The two of them sat in an amiable silence for a while, then she rolled onto her side and fell asleep. The day had been busy for her and without the adrenaline keeping her awake, she was tired.

  2

  The Dream

  Chaos created you, but you needn’t follow its ways. Join me, and rule in a creation made perfect!

  – Shattrenlix, Lord of Order to the First Five Entities.

  As Sara sank into sleep an image exploded into her mind. Suddenly she was running along a great promenade, a hundred times larger than anything she’d ever seen. Behind her a voice roared out, “Selthraxadinian!” Sara glanced over her shoulder in confusion and tried to scream in terror but instead a rich voice burst from her, laughing. She began running faster than ever, although it didn’t feel like a choice of her own. Sara closed her eyes, waiting for the dream to dissolve into nothingness. It didn’t and she didn’t want to think about the thing she had just seen behind her. The voice roared out again, “Selthraxadinian! Stop running! You have nowhere left to turn!” it was right, the promenade Sara was barreling along on was coming to an end, a massive wall blocking any way forward. Spinning so her back was to the obstacle, Sara watched the massive creature she had seen approach her.

  Six enormous arms branched out on all sides, spindly in their appearance, but as long as the creature they were attached to was tall. It had a broad emaciated chest and clawed hands the size of boulders rested at the end of each arm, the six fingers on each of them moving lightly as the creature approached. The whole of it was covered in some sort of slime that oozed down as it came towards her and when that slime hit the promenade beneath the creature’s feet stone bubbled and steamed. The feet were attached to long legs which seemed more bone than anything else and they left massive imprints in the ground wherever the creature stepped. Reality seemed to bend towards the beast’s face. As it came closer Sara got a look at its head and nearly puked. Glowing yellow eyes burned from a face that had been destroyed and remade more times than Sara would have thought possible. Spiky protrusions and pustules broke through the disgusting, veiny skin all across its body and a massive fanged jaw moved as the creature bent down towards her. Rank breath blew across her face, so bad she thought the smell alone would kill her and perhaps anyone else within a hundred miles. Massive horns framed the hideous face and as the creature bent down to her, Sara realized she was looking into the face of death and pain and suffering all rolled into one. She closed her eyes, praying she would wake up. It was just a dream, just a dream. Nothing could hurt her in a dream. But it didn’t feel like a dream.

  Just before the creature lunged at her, that same voice called out, “Stop! Don’t kill him.” Sara looked down in surprise. What did that voice mean, him? To her shock, she was clothed as a man. She had the body of a man, short and thin as a whip but still incredibly strong. She had a broad chest and powerful shoulders, and her muscled arms ended in delicate hands with long, dexterous fingers. It was a far cry from the frail body she possessed back in Redtower.

  Suddenly, her mouth opened as though with a will of its own, “Hello Atlatraigan! I see you’re still chasing fu
gitives across the universe. Still pretending to work for the council?” she chuckled, “I guess your real boss thinks you’re only good for grunt work.” Sara tried to shrink away from herself. Why was she goading on somebody who could get her killed at any moment? But a different part of her felt as confident as a lion, closing in for the kill.

  A man walked out from behind the great beast, his rich blue suit covered a silver shirt and pale white hands peaked out at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. Short silver hair covered the top of his head and deep blue eyes looked out from a perfect face. “Selthraxadinian, still as impudent as ever I see. You really must learn some manners when dealing with me.” he shook his head and gestured to the massive beast at his side, “As you can see, I have a traiganidorian with me, and I am not against using it to rend you limb from limb if you don’t start showing the proper respect.”

  Sara’s body snorted while Sara herself tried to close her eyes and wake up. It didn’t work, instead she gave a laugh and said, “Please Atlatraigan, you and I both know you’re not going to kill me. You need a live prisoner, not some corpse to drag around like a morbid trophy.”

  “Yes, well. I don’t need a whole prisoner, do I? Just one that’s breathing.” Atlatraigan’s face tightened, his hands clenching and un-clenching at his sides.

  Sara felt herself grin, “Well well well. I never thought of it that way before. Oh wait! Yes I have!” she cringed inwardly as the creature that Atlatraigan had called a traiganidorian advanced towards her. Then she flicked her wrists and two swords appeared in her hands. One glowed with a beautiful white light, cords of darkness snaking around it. The other was its mirror image – a sword blacker than the blackest night with swirling bands of light snaking their way up and down the blade. Sara felt the part of herself that understood this as a dream draw towards the blades, enraptured with their beauty. But the part of her which was controlling what she did kept staring at Atlatraigan and the traiganidorian, ready for anything. Atlatraigan had taken a step back at the appearance of the sword, staring at the blades with something like a fascinated horror.