Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods

by John Michael Hileman

  Sajin gave a startled glance to the man at his left, a stately man with a gray mustache and beard wearing a regal blue suit.

  The man spoke. “Greetings, Lord Tardin. I am Daru, Prime Median of Vrin. What is the nature of this conflict and why would a god need the help of mortal men?”

  “I don’t know what Mr. Barrows has told you of the current situation between Gaza and the others but things have quickly gone from bad to worse. Gaza and Rath have enlisted the aid of Kric’ tu and as we speak Armadon and Corel are engaged in a deadly battle against them. Humphrey is dead and Kitaya is missing. Although we have many powers we need your support to balance the scales. We need your numbers to help even up the fight. And we fight more for your sake than our own. If Vrin melts away the gods will go on but your people will suffer the ultimate cost. Not only will your lives be lost but your world will cease to exist. I beg you, decide quickly; time is of the essence.”

  Daru stroked his beard in contemplation. “Your words have great meaning.” His wisdom was evident in his vivid speech. “I am in favor. Does anyone oppose?” He looked around the twelve-edged table applying his steady gaze to each individual. None made even the slightest hint of resistance. He looked back at me. “Your words ring clear and true, lord. We will support you.” As he rose he addressed the men. “You know what to do. Prepare our forces. We move against darkness!”

  The men pushed away from the table and speaking in one voice, cried, “For Vrin!”

  I released a breath.

  The men rushed past bowing as they went. Sajin brought up the rear. He also bowed.

  “I need a private room to prepare some things,” I said to him in a low voice

  “Yes, lord, this way.” He motioned with his hand.

  Once inside I brought up the web and designed a subprogram which would allow me to repeat processes in mass numbers. Whenever I made armor or weaponry for myself, with a thought, the web would make duplicates for each of the soldiers under my command. This would free me up so I could better concentrate on the battle.

  I made one more attempt to contact Kitaya. There was still no response.

  I headed back out to the wide granite steps. It didn’t take long for the four-hundred or so troops to amass. Sajin informed me that a good number of them were veterans. Many looked like experienced soldiers but most were townsmen and women with old weaponry or farm tools. They were a motley crew but they had a passion for the cause, and in my opinion that was better than experience.

  I stood on the marble steps with the multitude of pensive fighters below me. There was movement and discussion but as I raised my hands the crowd fell silent.

  I was unsure of what to say. I hoped they weren’t expecting some fantastic speech from their sacred tome, of which I knew nothing. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and take the chance of alienating them, so I decided on a brief yet potent prologue. “For Vrin!” I pushed my fist into the air. That got them going. “For justice!” Waves of enthusiasm. “For reason!” That brought them to a frenzy. Any more would have been too much so I motioned with my hands, and they quieted.

  I had chosen the words I knew were on their minds. I called upon their faith in their world, the promise of the gods, and then punctuated it with the hope of reason, for which I was after all, its god.

  Supplies were readied and the soldiers began to chant my name as I set about the task of transporting them to the site. I would move them to the battleground in the same way Corel had transported us to Armadon’s fortress. I ordered them to move in close and to take each other’s hands. Every person’s attention was focused upon my glowing form as I stepped down to the edge of the massive crowd. I pushed my power outward into the structure of the assembly. Once I was sure every thread was energized, I closed my eyes and visualized Pagnia.

  The ground began to pull away from our feet and we rose as one unit high into the sky, passing above the clouds, and moving away from the planet until it was nothing more than a globe far below. Fear was in the eyes of my troops but they stood their ground and held tight. Responding to my desire Vrin rotated until Pagnia was in view. As the ground rushed back up at us I chose the area I remembered from the event cell, the site on top of Mount Dastra. With the softness of a feather pillow we touched down on the cliff.

  I made my way to the edge and scouted the area to the right of the castle. The battle was raging and the sight was as beautiful as it was horrific. Lightning crashed and fires flared. Wind whipped and rain came down in torrents. Troops fought in the middle of a muddy field while the elements wreaked havoc around them. Hordes of evil looking beasts pushed in against a shield of a thousand human bodies.

  A mighty stone wall arose around the forces of man. Creatures attempted to scale it but powerful gusts of wind and rain forced them down. A hole appeared in the side of the stone barrier but disappeared as quickly as it had formed. Parts of the ground began to move as if floating on water but the troops continued their battle. As one god made a change another corrected or transformed it. I spotted what looked like the lead outpost of Gaza’s forces. That was where we needed to strike.

  It was time to suit up for battle.

  I examined my hand as the transformation took place. Flesh turned to metal as scales protruded from skin. Soon my entire body was covered in strips of steel alloy. I squeezed my hand into a tight fist and the armor flexed in its creases. Every joint moved as a well-oiled machine. It was an unnatural thing of beauty. It pleased me to look upon my handiwork. This time I would be ready for Gaza. I checked my back. The feathery wings had grown nicely and were magnificent to behold. I stretched their graceful lines to their fullest expanse and turned to survey my troops.

  My visage was greeted with complete and utter shock.

  “Do not fear! We need to armor ourselves for battle! The demons will not be able to tear at this flesh.” I tapped my steel chest. “In a moment each one of you will experience the same transformation.”

  Cries of amazement were heard as their bodies took shape. Soon each soldier sported a sleek outfit of armored skin as well as a beautiful set of magnificent wings. Their startled expressions spoke volumes.

  “You are now protected!” I called out. “This battle will be won by the strength of your wills! Now join me in victory!”

  As my words sunk in the oddness of their new forms dissipated and the excitement of the event took hold. Weapons were raised as the war cry of four-hundred soldiers thundered across the valley.

  Adrenaline pumped rapidly through the veins beneath my steel skin as I was caught up in the moment. A knight approached and handed me a hefty sword. “This is from the Prime Median,” he screamed over the cries of the troops. Deep, beautiful runes were etched into its tempered steel blade. The brazen black hilt bore an arc of precious rubies. He let go, its weight pulled my hand toward the ground. The tip dug into the dirt.

  I smiled at the soldier. “I can fix that.” I lightened the materials and the blade lifted. “There, much better.”

  Everything was set. Now was the time. With a flick of my wrist I closed my visor and with a vigorous thrust pushed my sword skyward. “Let us end the age of madness now and forever!”

  The crowd cheered as my mighty white wings caught a strong updraft and I was lifted from the safety of the ground. My muscles flexed as the wings beat with thunderous force. I marveled at how easily they moved. But my fascination needed to be set aside, the war below was turning bad. As I’d expected my troops were confused at first but it wasn’t long before the strongest took position directly behind me and the rest followed suit.

  We swarmed down through the humid air, descending on the main camp of darkness with the justice of the cause fueling our courage. A thousand glints of metal and eight-hundred mighty wings must have made quite a sight for those on the ground. We were truly a vision worthy of the sacred tome.

  I imagined the text:

  The sky filled with a multitude of armored angels as the mighty army of Sam’ Dejal de
scended from the heavens. The forces of darkness cowered and trembled in the shadow created by their blessed forms, for the god of reason brought justice in his wake.

  I chuckled at how pleased I was with myself-- and the feeling produced a memory. I had always been pleased with myself. In life I was very smart, bordering on genius. I excelled in everything and accomplishment was a familiar feeling. I knew it well. But as soon as it had come the memory vanished. What was I just thinking?

  --Whatever it was, it was gone.

  I shook the encounter from my mind and refocused on the battle below. I was eager to meet Gaza, questions concerning Humphrey and Kitaya burned in my mind, questions only he could answer. We hit the ground a short distance from the five tents but as soon as my feet dug into the ground a stone wall pushed up in front of us.

  With a thrust from my new appendages I rose to the top of the wall and surveyed the zombie-like creatures forming on the other side. Arrows glanced off my armor as motioned for the others to join me. With graceful ease we propelled over the demons and landed beyond them. Immediately they surrounded us.

  Anger and hatred burned in their lifeless eyes. I swung my hefty sword and body parts fell away from my attackers. I pushed forward and slammed one directly in the chest. His ribs crackled and popped like dry logs on a fire. The air was filled with arrows moving in all directions. I quickly tucked my wings in for safety. The others followed my lead but for some it was too late. The arrows, and the demons hacking mercilessly with rusty axes had already clipped a few. I designed a shield to protect my wings in their tucked position. The program reacted and instantly all of my soldiers had a similar shield.

  My sword cut back and forth as I took on four creatures at once. Blue threads began to glow as my energy filtered into the web and I did the easiest thing I could think of. The four dropped from view as I removed the ground from below their feet. That was easy. Now what to do with the rest?

  I rose up into the air and began creating a thousand giant shards of glass above the struggling mass. Upon my command the pieces crashed down in a rain of devastation. Demons screamed as their bodies were diced. The armor and visors of my soldiers protected all but a few outstretched wings. A cheer rose up.

  I dropped to the bottom of the hill and spun toward the tents. Something hit me hard in the chest throwing me to the ground. I struggled to breathe and was dazed for a second. Someone had created a large log and let it roll down the incline. My limbs trembled as I got to my feet. My chest had suffered considerable damage but it was surface damage and easily fixed.

  Through the smoky air I saw a figure standing by the tents at the top of the hill. I advanced cautiously and five men took up positions beside me. The figure produced a fireball, which shot down at us, but I applied a counter force of wind. The fireball hovered then dissipated. The ground became slippery but before I could lose my balance I lifted myself into the air. The others took my lead.

  Two can play at that game, I thought and focused on the grass below my adversary. I attempted to turn it into wet cement, but he was apparently preserving the shape and form of the ground beneath him. I created a thick beam from the web behind him. It began to fall with deadly force-- but before it made contact a figure intercepted it and the log slammed to the earth. My opponent was startled but unharmed. Through the smoke I tried to make out the figure that had saved him. Whatever it was, it was large, and it didn’t look human.

  I caught a current and cautiously ascended. My angel guards took formation at my sides. With the web still up I saw the threads in front of me begin to fluctuate. My opponent was up to something. I quickly turned to warn my troops but it was too late. One of them hit the wall hard and dropped from the sky in a daze. I watched as he crashed into the slippery goo below.

  Pulling back I examined the situation. I could attempt to punch through the wall but I had no idea what it was made of. I could try to go around it but he could easily create new walls as I went. I was at a loss. There was no way to negate it as long as he was concentrating on it.

  One of my men let out a shriek and clutched at his chest. Quickly I stripped away the textures of his body and saw that one of his ribs had been bent inward to puncture his heart. I pulled at the threads but they were immovable. Blood trickled from the man’s mouth as he fell into a twisted dive. My temper flared. I pushed my energy into the three remaining men. At least they would not perish because of my inexperience.

  I glanced over to check the progress of my troops on the ground. Through the thick dust and smog I saw they were fighting with Armadon’s men, which made it an even match. Hate festered in my chest as I looked back at the dark figure on the mound. He looked so smug. I could almost make out a smile under his hood.

  I pushed my energy into one of the threads that went over the wall and soon I had control of a network of threads surrounding him. A hollow metal ball materialized and trapped him inside. Let’s see you get out of this one. But no sooner had the thought formed than a crackle of energy flickered next to the ball and his body materialized. It baffled me for a moment but then I realized he was maintaining the threads below him, which afforded him an escape route. The ball had remained unchanged as he simply slipped out the bottom. Crap!

  Expecting a counter attack I held onto a thread rising up into the sky. I was finding that the more threads I controlled the more difficult it was to concentrate. And I began to realize if I continued on like this I would most certainly lose. He was far more experienced and for all I knew he was merely playing with me, like a cat with a mouse. It was time for a retreat.

  I pulled away and the men followed as I flew over the battlefield to the outpost of our patriots. Hovering above I saw the camp was surrounded by a huge stone wall with a narrow doorway facing the battle. Troops traveled in and out. Some were carrying wounded. Others carried equipment. All looked filthy and tired. A muddy road stretched out to meet the battleground where demons and men fought viciously. Only a few humans were on the side of darkness, Rath’s children most likely. I reached my mind out into the web and felt for Armadon’s presence. “We must pull back.”

  “I agree. But will the enemy allow it?”

  “We won’t know until we try.” I amplified my voice down into the carnage. “PULL BACK! PULL BACK!”

  Shuffling backwards on shaky legs the soldiers began a slow retreat. Gradually the enemy desisted and the two sides moved away from each other, licking their wounds as they went.

  I flew down inside the stone wall. Corel was standing at the entrance keeping an eye out for changes. Armadon was already healing broken soldiers as quickly as he could. The flood of wounded was tremendous so I moved in beside him. “May I assist?” I asked the hulking man.

  “Please.” His deep voice resonated.

  I was not happy to note, that I was still intimidated by him.

  We worked for over an hour, mending and saving as many as we could. The method was more like sculpture than surgery. First I exerted my will to relieve their pain then I went to work. If there was a cut I pulled the pieces together. If there was a break I fused the bone. Burn victims were easily relieved of their hideously burnt flesh. And excess blood was turned to air. There was no mess, no terror. When we were done many had died, but a far greater number had been saved.

  Armadon and I went to meet with Corel at the mouth of the outpost.

  “Nice armor,” said Corel, looking me up and down.

  I looked down at the steel bands and circular patterns. It was kind of fashionable. “Thank you.” I smiled. “I made it myself.”

  It was nice to see her grin, but her eyes were worried. “We’re thankful you arrived when you did. I’m glad you didn’t do what I suggested.”

  “What happened anyway?” I asked.

  She looked away. “We infiltrated the castle and retrieved the information but it was not what we expected. --Rath is in league with Kric’ tu.”

  “So I’ve heard. Who is he?”

  “If evil walked, it
would be Kric’ tu.”

  “That sounds bad.”

  “That’s not the half of it,” she said with grave concern. Her eyes met mine and burned into my soul. “He is using Gaza to destroy Vrin.”

  CHAPTER 11

  A TWISTED KNOT

  001001011001110

  “Alganah stepped forward and spoke the words written in the ancient text of the Marathil. The sky grew dark as coal and the stones of The Circle of Ghosts began to glow. A screech emanated from within The Circle, so loud it brought the gathered people to their knees. With desperate fingers they dug at their ears. Their eyes began to bleed. The haunted stones hummed an awful accompaniment in time with the screeching wail.

  “Alganah continued to speak the words of the Drahdoos. ‘Te nerith oon, Tus danor bal!’ His words were swallowed into the chaos forming in the center of The Circle. He spread his arms wide and his body began to shake. ‘I trade my life for yours!’ he screamed. Two ghostly hands pushed forth from the violent maelstrom and clutched him in their delicate grasp. With devastating force they pulled him in. The ground shook as chaos sucked up into the sky and clouds pushed away in all directions.

  “When the dust cleared a man lay in the center of The Circle, naked in the rays of the sun. He had come. The prophecy had been fulfilled.”

  Corel reached out and turned to the next page in the thick musty book. I continued to read.

  “For days we sat outside the sacred place. The dark one did not move. Men and women prayed and cried. Others went mad and leaped into The Circle in desperation. Their bodies blew apart in pieces so tiny they seemed to vanish in the air. Holy men preached and the people fasted. On the fifth day he began to stir. Rising from the ashes of his birthplace he walked in his nakedness to the edge of The Circle and stared out at the multitude. He spoke. 'I am the maker of chaos, the keeper of darkness. Why have I been summoned?'

  “A holy man stepped forward. ‘Thornis must be king. Only the god of power can grant his request.’