The Dark Path

by James M. Bowers

  The weave was tight and complex. Its patterns shifted slightly every few seconds. He walked forward and placed the symbol on his palm against it. His eyes lit with green light as well and the weave stripped itself apart. He approached slowly and gently picked Meeka up. She didn't looked to have aged a day since he had last seen her. Her body was slightly warm but she wasn't breathing and had no pulse. Gen looked back up and chanted a few words softly.

  Instantaneously, he was standing before the gates of the Schola. He looked up and the gates flew open and smashed against the walls. He walked slowly to the main ritual circle and laid Meeka down gently in the center. He chanted a simple spell and his robes and possessions came to him. He got dressed quickly then chanted a few more words and a sphere of silver energy formed around the circle. Lightning arced off the surface of the sphere to the ground nearby. He walked to the side two steps and reached up into the air. Making a ripping motion with his hands, he tore through reality and opened a gate. He walked through the rift.

  On the other side of the rift, Gen stepped out onto the bottom of the hematite stairs of a throne room. Skulls of Hematite lined the edges of the stairs, their eyes glowing with green flame. Gen looked up and saw that the God of death was sitting upon his throne. The God stood and slowly clapped his hands.

  "You've done well." The voice was a whisper but echoed throughout the hall.

  "You know what I have come for." Gen's voice was shaking with barely contained anger.

  "Oh yes. The question is. Why should I give it to you?" The whisper was mocking and faint laughter rang out from the walls.

  Gen sighed and slowly walked up the steps.

  "Do you plan to take it from me?" The laughter was louder now.

  "You have left me with no other choice." Gen's tone was flat. The anger was gone. He slowly drew his blade.

  "You expect to wound me with that?" The skull of death frowned. "You forget your place."

  Gen ignored the God and jabbed the handle of the katana into his wounded shoulder. Blood began to flow easily from the wound once more. He stopped his ascent and let the blood flow over the blade. The sigils he had placed upon the blade long ago began to glow a dull red. He turned and looked back up and once more began the climb.

  "You are a stubborn one." Death sighed and shrugged his shoulders underneath his black robes. "I spent all those years molding you to this point. You have power because I led you to it. You have knowledge because I gave you a cause to gain it. You are my puppet and you will obey me!" Death raised his right hand and Gen felt the God start to pull at his soul. Gen smiled slightly.

  "That won't work on me." Gen's tone was quiet.

  "You cannot defy me!" Death clenched his fist and Gen felt the icy touch of death around him. His smile grew a bit more.

  "I have told you. That will not work on me." Gen's tone was a bit louder. His eyes started to shimmer.

  "Fool!" Death ripped his hand downward. Gen gritted his teeth and his vision shifted into the weave view. Everything here was the magic of a God. The patterns threatened to drive him mad. He focused upon the God. He saw the weave of the spell death was casting upon him. He saw it wrapped around his soul. Gen closed his eyes, and let go of the power he had been holding back since he had gotten the symbol on his hand. Blinding light of every color and void shot through his being like a thunderbolt. Fire covered his body. His ears heard nothing but roaring static. He opened his mouth to scream at the pain.

  "What have you..." Death drew back a step. "You'll undo us all!"

  The sound in Gen's ears stopped and the stabbing blindness lifted. He opened new eyes and looked at the God of death before him. He understood his pattern now. It was simple. He took the last three steps and stood face to face with Death.

  "Give me her soul or die here." Gen's voice sounded alien to his ears. It echoed off the walls.

  Death responded by drawing his scythe.

  "So be it."

  The two forces began combat. With every checked blow, sections of the various realms around them were destroyed.

  The embodiment of nature stood silent in her realm. Winter had taken it and she stood as white and frozen as the rest of her surroundings. A human stood beside her. She spoke soft words to him but he shook his head in refusal and ran to the edge of the wounded realm. He looked up at the two dark forms at war. One was black the other silver-black. He screamed up in defiance at them. The black form turned and grabbed him. The human soul, forged instantly into a blade and he swung viciously at the silver-black form with it. The other dodged to the side and struck with its blade of black and red. The human-sword flew back toward nature herself. The blade cut through her right arm severing it cleanly, at the elbow. Blood flowed out of her wound and her realm returned to spring with the touch of her life blood. The human soul forged into a blade wept.

  The endless battlefield of the Gods of Norsehiem found both sides frozen as the two forms flew through. The Black form resolved itself back into the God of Death, his scythe held at the ready. The silver-black form resolved itself back into Gen, his katana in a defensive stance. Necros Rex dashed at the combatants but Gen interceded. Stopping him from destroying or using those around him. A one handed God stood and walked to the clearing. He saluted Gen, solemnly, then brandished his sword to the God of Death. Necros Rex melted back into the black form and jumped away to another realm, his opponent following close behind.

  In the realm of demons, three figures stood and looked up from the constant war between clans to see the two dark forms at war. The black form was thrown down and crashed through the combat of demons, taking away half the realm, killing an equal number of both warring clans. The black and silver form flew after him. Black landed back in the throne room and resumed the shape of Death. Black and Silver landed softly beside it, resuming the Arch-Mage. Necros Rex knelt in defeat. Gen struck quickly and beheaded the God. Black icor flowed from the wound and poured down the stairs. Gen cast patterns of magic as they came to him from the stone. The webs they formed covered the remains of the God. They twisted and grew in complexity till they appeared almost a writhing, solid mass to Gen. The patterns stopped coming and Gen ended the spell. The God's body and blood turned a silver hue and flowed back up the stairs. Before Gen could move, the liquid flowed up and on him. It quickly absorbed into his skin, and flowed into his mouth, nose, and ears. He felt it flow up over and into his eyes. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt. His mind threatened to break under the strain as it could not shut off to save him from it. He had no idea how long it took. It seemed he spent eternity in the pain. When he could again open his eyes, he looked around with wonder. He could see the patterns in everything around him, and knew, somehow, what each one did and how it functioned. For the first time in a very long time, he felt no pain. His mind returned to task, and as he thought of her, he saw her location clearly in his mind. He stepped simply off the throne steps and into the realm of shadow. She was there, her soul shining so brightly it almost hurt him to look upon. Gently, he picked her up and held her in his arms. He took a step back and was back inside the protective sphere at the Schola. He knelt beside Meeka and lay her soul gently upon her body. It sank slowly into her. She sat bolt upright and gasped then fell back down asleep. Gen picked her up and the spell he had cast around the circle ended. He walked slowly to the healer's. The door burst open as he approached and he walked over and placed her upon an empty bed. He looked to the healer standing there.

  "Tend to her as if your life depended on it," he managed to say before his vision went black.

  XXXIV

  Epilogue

  Gen woke to the sound of soft singing and fingers caressing his face. He pulled himself slowly awake and opened his eyes. When he could finally focus on the figure above him, his heart started to ache as butterflies fluttered in his stomach. She hadn't noticed he was awake yet. She had her eyes closed as she sang a soft song of soothing magic. It was a spell he hadn't heard in a very long time it seemed
. He didn't ever want this moment to end. He stared at her as long as he could, not daring to blink lest the moment end. Her hand crossed by his eyes and she looked down as she felt his lashes upon her fingers.

  “Oh! Thank the Gods! You've come back.” Meeka smiled down at him and his heart ached tenfold.

  “I love you.” His voice came out as a croaking whisper. His throat felt raw. He pushed the pain and annoyance away. None of that mattered now. She was back.

  “I love you.” Her smile shone in her tear filled eyes.

  “I missed you.” His voice was a little stronger now though it still came out with barely a whisper.

  “My dear Gen. I missed you too. Now rest. You can tell me what happened when you are healed.”

  He didn't want to close his eyes. He never wanted the image of her form before his eyes to end, but exhaustion won out and darkness returned to him.

  When next he woke, the room was dark. He knew there was no light but he could somehow see everything clearly. He lay upon a bed in what appeared to be his old room at the Schola. What all had changed in him? He started to think back upon what had happened but his eyes fell upon Meeka, sleeping quietly beside him. He reached out and caressed her face as gently as he could. He shifted his vision and looked closely at Meeka's patterns. Her core weave was still the deep green it had always been, though all around the edges of it was now a strong layer of hematite colored pattern holding her core to the rest of her. The hematite felt somehow right. He studied it and found that he understood it completely. That was new. He knew he had never seen one like it before. He looked down upon his own patterns and suppressed a gasp. His entire patterns were rewoven with the same hematite colored thread. The power that coursed there was unlike any he had ever seen. He knew they were still his patterns, though strengthened somehow. He ended the spell with a thought and slowly got up from beside Meeka, trying not to wake her. He walked to the wash basin and washed off his face in the cold water inside it. When he looked up to the mirror, he gasped at his face. His hair was stark white. His eyes no longer held color, they appeared to be solid orbs of hematite. He heard movement and saw Meeka staring at him in the mirror.

  “I didn't mean to wake you.” His voice came out in that dry whisper from before but his throat felt fine now. He frowned a bit.

  “I was so worried about you.” Meeka's whisper was gentle and she rolled over and stood up out of bed. She walked to the basin and washed her face as well.

  “Hungry?” He asked though he somehow knew from seeing her patterns before that she was.

  “Famished. Do you think there is any food left?” She smiled as her eyes met his.

  “Let's go find out.” He held out his arm for her to take. When she gasped. “What's wrong?”

  “Gen. How am I able to see? There is no light in here.” Her voice seemed more curious than frightened. He started to answer that he didn't know but as he opened his mouth he understood.

  “Whatever has happened to me, it seems to have affected you as well. When we have the time we should find out what all has changed. Do you feel okay?”

  “I'm just hungry. It doesn't matter what happened. We are together. That's all that is important.” She smiled at him though he could still feel a bit of concern in her.

  “Well let's fix the hunger problem first as it seems the simplest.” They walked over and he opened the door for her. Light flooded the room from the hall but his eyes adjusted instantly and without pain.

  They walked down the hall toward the mess hall. The corridors were empty, and all was quiet, though not the quiet of danger or death. They could hear snores from a few doors they passed. When they arrived at the hall, he opened the door and held it for her. The mess was empty but he could hear movement in the kitchen. They walked across the room and he once more held the door for her. When they entered, Gen heard a crash of a breaking dish. Mina stood by the sink and stared at the both of them. Gen smiled and shook his head.

  “Why is it you always break the dishes when I'm around?” He tried to put out a joking tone but it didn't come out well through the dry whisper. She somehow still heard him though. He started to chant the simple spell to repair the dish and before he could say the words the dish sprang back whole. That was new. Did he no longer need to say the words?

  “I'm sorry, Master.” Mina bent and picked up the dish, placing it back in the sink. She tried to steady her shaking hands.

  “I don't believe we've met,” Meeka said sweetly as she released Gen's arm and walked over to Mina, her hand held out in greeting. Though her steps faltered as she neared the woman. There was something familiar about her.

  “I'm sorry M'lady. My name is Mina.” Her eyes were down at the floor so she didn't see Meeka's faltering steps.

  “Mina, you say?” As Meeka said her name, Mina looked up. Could this young woman really be her sister? She looked too young.

  “Mina, My name is Meeka. Gen and I were wondering if we could find a bite to eat. We're both terribly hungry.”

  “I think we have some bread and some soup left over.”

  “That would be lovely!”

  “I'll go get it. You two sit and get acquainted.” Gen said as he shifted his vision once more. Mina's patterns looked stable with no hint of damage or the control spell that had plagued her before. He was just about to turn to the task of finding some food when he saw the connections. Meeka and Mina had similar patterns. He nodded to himself and ended the spell. He busied himself with fixing a couple bowls of the soup, a vegetable soup almost thick enough to be stew he discovered, when he heard an exclamation of joy come from the front of the room. He smiled as he finished and carried the bowls back.

  “Gen! Gen! You won't believe it! Mina's my older sister!” Meeka was almost bouncing up and down in excitement.

  “Oh really?” He tried to act surprised but he knew he couldn't hide anything from her. He smiled.

  “You knew?” Meeka put a hand on her hip and frowned at him. “Why didn't you tell me!”

  “I just found out a short time ago. I've been distracted since then.” He looked down, and nearly dropped the bowls of soup as he caught a glimpse of his hand. Absently, he summoned a table to form from the stone of the floor between him and Meeka and set the bowls on it. He stared at his palm. The symbol that had glowed there before was now branded deep into his palm. He ran his fingers over it and could feel power there still.

  “Let me see it.” Meeka grabbed his hand before he could stop her and stared at his palm. She ran her fingers over the deep symbol there. “What does it mean?” She asked him quietly.

  “Power.” Gen whispered back to her. He found that at least his whisper sounded normal. “It's a symbol for power. Raw power, in it's purest form.”

  “Oh.” She was quiet a time, tracing the pattern in his palm. “At least it is in good hands then.” She smiled up to him and he lost himself, again, in her eyes. The moment was broken by Mina clearing her throat. Gen looked at her and blushed.

  “Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt.” He motioned and chairs slid to the table for them to sit at.

  They sat and before long the food was gone to be replaced with conversation. Mina was telling Meeka about how well Alisha was doing in her classes when Gen felt a presence on the other side of the kitchen door. He knew the patterns instantly and waved the door open. A startled Thomas, Marcus, and Beth stood on the other side of the door.

  “Come in and join us.” Gen added to the table and placed a few chairs as well, forming them instantly from the stone of the floor.

  “You made it back.” Thomas couldn't seem to decide who to look at, Gen or Meeka. His eyes kept flitting from one to the other.

  “Sit,” Gen said and pointed to the chair. Thomas quickly sat down, Marcus joining him. Beth came over and sat beside Gen. She was still in demon form and had her wings folded behind her back.

  “Beth. The combat is over.” He motioned and her robes appeared upon the table before her. “Please get dressed.” Sh
e bowed, took the robes and walked back out of the kitchen. She returned a short time later, back in human form. She sat calmly back beside Gen. “Better, thank you.”

  It didn't take long for the questions to start coming and they spoke through the night and into the morning. Eventually the friends went to their separate beds, one by one, until only Gen and Meeka were left at the table. He was enjoying just sitting with her, holding her hand when a large black crow flew into the kitchen to land on the edge of the table. It looked at the two of them, then melted and grew into the shape of a man. He had dark bronze skin and black hair cut short. He wore robes of silver. His eyes still darted birdlike around the room till finally resting on Gen.

  “My Lord, you must come. There is much to be done.”

  “Who are you?” Gen asked. He shifted vision and studied the man's weave. It was complex and powerful but not quite that of a God. The understanding flooded into him as he questioned it. This was a lesser God. Apparently he was also a God of Death. He couldn't remember reading about this one in particular though.

  “There is no time for pleasantries. Trust me or do not. You must see to your realm and soon.” His message delivered, he again changed form and flew from the room.

  “Do we trust him?” Meeka asked quietly.

  “I sensed no ill will in him. I will go and check it out.”

  “I will go with you.” Meeka's tone held no room for questioning.

  “Of course, my love.” He gestured to the air beside them and opened a portal. “Shall we?”

  “Together.” Meeka looked deep into Gen's strange eyes.

  “Together.” He took her hand and they stepped through the portal. Behind them, the table melded back into the floor and the chairs went back into place. The morning sun shown hot into the kitchen as fat flakes of snow drifted slowly out of the sky.