The Sons of Animus Letum

by Andrew Whittle

  “Hell of a storm,” Usis said as his eyes shot around the room. His voice was quickly hushed by the crouching Galian.

  “What?” Usis joked. “Your girly ears are too sensitive in the morning?”

  “Not mine,” Galian explained in his sign language. With a roll of his eyes, he pointed to Odin asleep on his bed. “Our lazy brother is taking the morning off.”

  “Oh,” Usis whispered as he assumed a stealthy crouch. “So he probably won’t like this.”

  With silent steps, Usis crept over to Odin’s bed, and after gripping Odin’s covers tightly, he ripped them off and tossed them to the floor.

  Odin reacted with a deep exhalation. “You’re not going to ruin this,” he groaned. “I don’t care how, but I’m sleeping in.”

  “That’s going to be tough,” Usis said as he reached his hand towards Odin’s pillow, “without this!”

  With a quick grab, Usis ripped the pillow from under Odin’s head and tossed it across the room.

  Odin calmly rose to his feet, retrieved his cover and pillow, and walked out the door.

  “It’s cold out there!” Usis called after him.

  Odin made no reply as he walked to the Temple next door.

  Usis turned back to Galian. “I’ll give him credit,” he laughed. “That took dedication.”

  Galian nodded, but then returned his attention to the storm crashing outside his window. As Galian surveyed the storm, Usis walked to the window sill, and after taking another look at the gale, he patted Galian on the back.

  “I needed Odin out of the room,” he said.

  “Why?” Galian signed. “What’s going on?”

  Usis sat back against the window sill. “I received some news last night,” he said. “Haren and Raine are to return this afternoon.”

  Galian turned his attention to Usis.

  “Both are well?”

  “Apparently quite well,” Usis replied. “Their mission was a success.”

  “Good,” Galian judged.

  Usis’s eyes darted around the room, and after his hands fidgeted, he stared back out into the storm.

  “They have a prisoner,” he said. “Someone linked to my past.”

  “How early in your past?” Galian asked.

  “The earliest,” Usis answered.

  “How do you know?”

  Usis retrieved a piece of paper from his belt.

  “Because of this,” he replied.

  Galian’s eyes grew wide. He immediately recognized the paper. It was the page that Haren had lost when Tyrik had attacked her. Written on it was the Scour incantation.

  “Did you use it?” Galian asked. There was readable anxiety in his eyes.

  “You and Haren are safe,” Usis assured. “I am not going to tell Igallik.”

  “That is the least of my worries,” Galian said. “Did you use it or not?”

  “Of course I did,” Usis said, not quite understanding Galian’s anxiety. “I figured you would understand. You were going to use it anyway.”

  “Not me,” Galian signed. “Haren was going to use it.”

  Usis looked back into the storm. “For her brother,” he realized.

  Galian nodded. “And you,” he presumed, “you’ve used it for your parents?”

  Usis nodded and then looked back to the quiet monk. “The ritual worked,” he said. There was a flare of excitement in his eyes. “I found them, Galian. I’ve been speaking with them for two months.”

  Galian was washed of his worry.

  “What have they said?” he asked, his face was excited by Scour’s success.

  Usis grinned. “They’ve said a lot. Mostly, they ask about my arrangements here. But they’ve also told me things about the afterlife.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like who Malum Ludus is, and who his allies are.”

  “Hasn’t Igallik told you the same thing?” Galian signed.

  “Not quite,” Usis replied. “For starters, Ludus’s cult – the Metus Sane – have been using a ritual to resurrect fallen allies from the afterlife. They call them Caels.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “My parents say yes. In fact we should meet a Cael today.”

  “Today?”

  Usis nodded. “Haren and Raine’s prisoner,” he said.

  Galian suddenly understood Usis’s intent.

  “You’re going to kill the prisoner?”

  “I am,” Usis replied.

  “You must wait for permission,” Galian signed. “You must only kill him if Igallik says so.”

  “And if he says no?”

  Before Galian could reply, Usis reminded the quiet monk of their pact.

  “Make the flames of evil doubt their burn,” he said. “We’ve talked about this before, Galian. And I was very clear that if fate were to offer me a chance like this, I would exact my revenge.” Usis began to pace from the window. “This is my chance,” he campaigned, “I can strike retribution for my parents’ murder this very day.”

  Galian shook his head.

  “What if we need the prisoner?” he said. “What if there is a reason Raine and Haren brought him back here?”

  Usis continued to pace, weighing Galian’s thoughts against his own. Then, almost as if an emotion had swept quickly upon him, Usis turned back to Galian.

  “You’re afraid,” he challenged.

  Galian looked to Usis in surprise.

  “How do you always know?”

  “I’m not sure,” Usis answered. “I can just feel it sometimes.” Usis shook his head as he studied Galian’s eyes. “I felt it first when I pulled out Scour, but now I feel it tenfold. What are you holding back?”

  Galian motioned his hand to the storm.

  “Something is off today,” he signed. “I’ve never felt energy in a storm like this. There’s chaos in clouds and it’s almost maddening.”

  “I’m sure it’ll pass,” Usis said.

  Galian found it hard to agree.

  “Promise me, no matter what happens today, you will choose control. You have your parents now, perhaps there is no need for vengeance.”

  Usis’s eyebrow rose, his foot tapping out a slow rhythm.

  “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t trust you,” he said finally. “And although I hate to admit it, your mind has consistently proven wiser than mine. If you are telling me to wait, I suppose I should.”

  Galian nodded. “Wait does not mean abandon.”

  After a conceding smile, Usis examined the Scour incantation.

  “Do you need this?” he asked. “I’ve got it memorized.”

  With a wave of his hand, Galian used his power to snatch the paper and float it towards one of the room’s candles. However, after giving the act a second thought, the page stopped and levitated just above the flame.

  “Do you think I should give it to Haren?” he asked.

  Usis shrugged. “It closed a wound for me,” he said. “I don’t know if it is the Order’s business to delegate who should heal.”

  Galian smiled at the logic, and then with a snap, the paper flew into his hand.

  Usis watched Galian tuck the paper away, and after a nod of approval, he turned towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Galian asked.

  “Next door,” Usis grinned. “I have some business in the chapel.”

  Galian shook his head with a smile.

  “Let him sleep.”

  “Can’t do it,” Usis called back as he walked out the door. “Young men need structure.”

  There were no breaks in the storm until midday, when a fleeting burst of sun fell over the monastery. It was in that break that two monks caught their first glimpse of Haren and Raine’s convoy. The returning convoy was nineteen monks strong – somewhat fewer than the thirty who had departed. Aside from Haren, who was a Sight, the convoy was populated wholly by Torch and Aeris monks. However, it was the convoy’s prisoner – the Blood Cael – who demanded the greatest attention. Raine was a huge m
an. He was at least six foot six and two-hundred and fifty pounds, but standing next to the Cael he was dwarfed. As news of Raine and Haren’s return – and the immense size of their prisoner – sounded back to the heart of the monastery, it took only minutes before a large congregation of monks had gathered at the front gate. Usis, Galian, and Odin were purposefully excluded. Igallik had decided that they would stay indoors until their safety was assured. As the convoy grew closer, the monks were awestruck by the fantastic size of the prisoner. As more distance was closed between them, the real shock proved to be the beast’s gruesome condition. The Blood Cael was nine feet tall and was draped in a giant black cloak that covered most of its skin. The skin that was visible was polar white with blood red symbols carved and gouged into it. The monster’s eyes – crimson red and lacking both pupil and iris – appeared like deep pools of blood, staring through reality like a soulless ghoul. However, the worst of the beast’s gore was its hands: each hand had been pierced clean through with massive chains that were being used to haul the giant forward.

  As a visibly distraught Raine ushered the convoy through the Throne’s Eye gates, the monks did not have to be told to keep back – the giant’s gruesome state was enough to keep the monks at a safe distance.

  From the window of Galian and Odin’s quarters, Usis and the sons of Animus Letum were intently watching the procession. The three became shocked by the sight of the prisoner.

  “Holy God!” Odin cried. “That thing’s monstrous!”

  “Indeed, it is,” Usis solemnly agreed.

  Galian managed to catch Usis’s eye, and after seeing the disbelief on Usis’s face, Galian shot him a wry smile.

  “If you’re still set on revenge,” he joked, “you can start by getting a ladder.”

  Usis broke a smile against his frustration, and after shaking his head again in disbelief, he returned to the window.

  Outside, Igallik had just descended from the High Temple and was walking calmly to the front of the convoy.

  “First,” Igallik said as he reached Haren and Raine, “I wish to commend you on a successful mission.”

  Raine and Haren both bowed.

  “I have been informed that there were losses,” the head monk continued. “I trust their deaths belong to courage, not cowardice. Take heart that at this eve’s close we will pay tribute to those lost.”

  Raine and Haren offered another bow to their head monk.

  “But as for the issue at hand,” Igallik said as he pointed to the prisoner. “What do we know of this monster?”

  Haren was first to speak.

  “It is of the Metus Sane cult,” she explained. “From what we witnessed in the cult’s lair, it seems to be worshipped as some sort of deity. Almost like Malum Ludus.”

  “Is it hostile?” Igallik asked.

  “As much as you can believe,” Raine snapped.

  The old warrior was instantly regretful of his tone, and offered an apologetic bow to Igallik.

  “This bastard,” Raine explained as he calmed his voice, “is the reason we lost our men.” As flashes of dying monks filled his eyes, Raine slapped his own cheeks to break his daze. “You better tell him, Haren,” he said. “I don’t want to relive this one.”

  Haren patted the old warrior’s back, and then looked to Igallik in regret.

  “The cult wasn’t a problem. We picked them off quickly and precisely. But when we descended into the basement of their stronghold, we met this thing. It was in the center of some sort of spiritual rite, and the remaining cult members were chanting verse.”

  Haren inhaled deeply and shook her head. “Within thirty seconds of our guys engaging this monster, eleven of them were dead. And Igallik,” Haren said, “I don’t mean just dead – they were ripped to god-damned pieces.”

  As Raine was again reminded of his lost men, a great pain took to his eyes. The old warrior began to curse madly, and as words and spit flew from his mouth, he walked deliberately to the beast. After snatching a spear from one of the monks in the convoy, Raine hacked the back of the monster’s legs, bringing the giant to his knees.

  “I hope you feel pain!” Raine screamed, “’cause you’re in for a world of it!”

  Haren and a few of the convoy monks quickly latched onto Raine’s shoulders and ripped him back. As they restrained him, Raine spit again at the monster, his eyes bulging as he kicked his legs at the monster’s head. Finally, Raine fell to a defeated knee, whispering the names of his fallen brothers. As the old warrior mourned, Igallik approached him and placed his hand on Raine’s shoulder.

  “There will be retribution for this beast,” the head monk promised. “But we will not lose time to anger. Raine, I trust you can pull yourself together.”

  Raine wiped his eyes again and slowly rose to his feet, forcing a strange grunt as an affirmation.

  The head monk turned back to Haren.

  “How were you able to subdue this monster?” he asked.

  “After we lost our first wave of men, Raine arrived in the basement. He gave us the edge we needed. Raine and the remaining nineteen of our brothers managed to subdue the beast, and it was Raine who drove those chains through his palms.”

  “The prick didn’t even flinch,” Raine muttered.

  Igallik swept his hand through his beard as he surveyed the Blood Cael.

  “As you might have guessed,” he said, “this monster is not from our realm. I have read about such beasts, and what we have is a very dangerous prisoner.”

  As Haren studied the head monk, she knew what Igallik’s next question would be.

  “Imprisoning the monster was our decision,” she explained to Igallik. “We had to bring it here. Believe me, if this monster could die, Raine would have killed it. We decided that our monastery was the best place to learn how to kill the giant, or at the very least detain it.”

  “This is wise,” Igallik praised. “You two have done well.”

  “There is something else,” Haren said.

  “What is it?” Igallik asked.

  “The monster had this.”

  Haren handed Igallik a small painted portrait.

  “We believe the beast is connected to one of our brothers.”

  Igallik looked over the painting, and a deep chill ran up his spine. The portrait was of Usis’s parents. Igallik’s eyes glanced to the window where Usis, Galian, and Odin were watching. He quickly returned his attention to Haren and handed the portrait back to her.

  “Burn it,” he instructed.

  “Do we tell Usis?”

  “No,” Igallik sternly answered. “Just burn it.”

  “As you wish,” Haren said.

  As she began to tuck the small painting back into her satchel, the giant’s eyes locked onto her. At first, the crimson stare startled her, but after studying the beast, Haren regained her poise and held the portrait up to the monster.

  “Whatever ambition was bound to this painting,” she promised, “will die with you.”

  With authority, the violet-eyed Deathrider drew a match from her belt and lit the small painting, scolding the giant as the portrait burned. As the canvas smouldered, a slow wind picked up in the monastery, blowing the flames back onto Haren’s hand. With a flinch, Haren dropped the painting. As she knelt to retrieve it, she could hear the sound of light rain falling onto the courtyard floor. Haren dismissed the change in weather, but as she reclaimed the wet portrait, her eyes zeroed in on the colour of the precipitation.

  “What in the hell?” she whispered as the rain beaded on the black and white picture. Haren drew the portrait to her nose to smell the red precipitation, and after inhaling its scent, she was taken with shock.

  “The rain…” she realized. “It’s blood…”

  Haren turned back to Igallik who had also recognized the nature of the rainfall. As Igallik met Haren’s eyes, his expression of confusion suddenly gave way to alarm.

  “Haren!” he cried. “Get back!”

  With her body rigid with panic,
Haren spun back to see that the hulking Blood Cael was rising from its knees. As the beast rose to the height of his nine-foot frame, its dark cloak fell from its shoulders and the falling blood soaked its ghostly skin with a layer of crimson red. In what seemed like slow motion, Haren fell back and began a desperate crawl to safety. As she scraped herself out of range, Raine marched to the monster’s front. The monks holding the monster’s chains fought desperately to rein the prisoner, but as the monster thrashed its powerful arms, it ripped the chains free from their grips. Raine stood five feet in front of the monster, his fierce eyes staring up at the beast that had slaughtered eleven of his men.

  “Let’s have at it then,” Raine growled.

  As the blood cascaded down Raine’s face, the old warrior ripped his sword from its sheath.

  “It’s you or me!” he snapped.

  With a snarl, the monster flexed its massive hands back, and as the sound of slicing metal hummed through the monastery, the beast began to swing its chains as weapons. As the massive chains slashed towards Raine, he dodged the first attacks, but ultimately the whirlwind of chains overcame him and he was whipped across the upper torso. Raine dropped hard to the ground, but used what strength he had left to roll out of range of the monster’s attacks.

  As more monks drew their weapons and rushed in, Igallik turned fearfully from the fray and began to sprint to the monastery’s High Temple.

  As the first wave of monks converged on the beast, the tornado of chains quickly destroyed them. Some of the fallen monks managed to roll back to safety, but most were left immobile, and amid the bloody rainfall, the merciless monster stomped them to death.

  From Odin and Galian’s window, Usis watched one monk after another die, and after his rage had forced his action, he turned from the window and addressed the young twins.

  “Alright boys,” he said as he rushed to Odin’s closet. “The time has come.” Usis retrieved two staffs and a sword from the closet. “Don’t argue with it, don’t fight it,” he said as he handed each brother a weapon. “We fight today for the losses of yesterday.” Usis grabbed the door handle and threw it open. “Let’s go!” he cried.