When Angels Fall (Demon Lord)

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When Angels Fall (Demon Lord) Page 18

by Southwell, T C


  “The mingling has allowed Channels to reach the border of this world, albeit weak ones, due to the juncture being in a dark realm, but they exist, nonetheless. You cannot use them, but he can.” Carthius indicated Majelin. “If he does so after the tra’mith awaken, however, he will lead them out.”

  “I must leave this place. If I do not, Kayos’ daughter will be enslaved and his granddaughter will continue to suffer.”

  Carthius’ smile faded. “I fear that fate cannot be avoided. When the tra’mith awake, they will kill you, dark god or not. To them, you are a source of life force.”

  Bane dismissed his cup and rose to his feet. “Show me the void gate.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “I wish to see it.”

  “It is yonder.” Carthius gestured to the right of the throne.

  Bane headed in that direction, and the light god walked beside him, Majelin following.

  “You have little time,” Carthius said. “Soon the tra’mith will become aware. Then you must be careful what you say, lest you reveal your true nature.”

  “They will find out when they try to suck the life out of me, anyway.”

  “No. Unlike their changeling ancestors, they do not need to touch you to do that.”

  A huge black rectangle came into view through the forest of pillars that upheld the vaulted roof, so dark that only the blue glow beyond it made it visible. It appeared to be made of obsidian, or perhaps black crystal, and tiny lights shimmered in it, like a night sky. It stood alone, a frame containing a door, apparently leading nowhere. Bane walked around it, discovering that its back was ink black. As he passed the frame, he touched it, and a molten glow spread from his fingertips, fading when he removed his hand. Facing the front of it again, he studied it. The smooth, seamless stone offered no clue as to how it could be opened.

  “Even an archangel’s soul will not open this gate,” Carthius commented.

  “What about yours?”

  Carthius chuckled. “If you could capture it, yes, but you cannot. My soul will return to the light the moment I die.”

  “If you returned to your body, and I freed you from the throne, could you open it?”

  “That is an intriguing idea, but I will die the instant you remove the sword from my heart.”

  “But I can draw it from the throne.”

  “You would cause me unimaginable pain.”

  “Who put the shackles on you, and impaled you with the sword?”

  “They did, of course.” Carthius motioned to the dark angels.

  “They control duron?”

  “No, they mined it and forged it, with help from earth demons, probably.”

  “So why did they not do as I have just suggested?” Bane asked.

  “Why would they? They do not know what this is.”

  “What do they think it is? It is a great gate. Why would they not think it offered them egress?”

  “You suspect me of trickery, tar’merin?” Carthius enquired.

  “There are a lot of mysteries in this world.”

  “For you, I suppose so. This is one of the oldest domains in existence, since it has been sealed for millennia, so no dark god could destroy it.”

  “Instead, dark angels did.”

  “More or less,” the light god allowed.

  “You did not answer my question.”

  Carthius glanced at the angels. “In truth, I do not know. Perhaps they suspected that it was a trap. They asked me about the gate many times, while they tortured me, but I told them nothing.”

  “How did you plan to lure them through this gate?”

  “I was going to flee through it. If you do that, however, and Move, you will be lost in the God Realm. Moving in the void is even worse than Moving in the God Realm. I did not care, of course. My domain was doomed and I wished only to escape, while killing the tra’mith at the same time. If you wish to return to Kayos, however, you cannot use this option.”

  “No.” Bane frowned at the gate, noting that the stars within it changed as the galaxies rotated with imperceptible sluggishness. “I could free you from the throne and bring you to the gate. You open it and go through, and I will order the tra’mith to follow. Then you can draw the sword from your heart and perish. The Forbidding will be undone and I will be able to Move back to Sherinias’ domain.”

  “A good plan, but how do you know they will obey you?”

  “They wish to leave this place. Do not concern yourself. I will convince them.”

  Carthius glanced at Majelin. “They will kill him.”

  “I will not allow it.”

  “You have much confidence. Beware the arrogance of the dark power; it may lead you into disaster. Do not imagine dark angels are easily duped. They are a lot older than you.”

  “But not necessarily wiser. They are desperate to escape. My life force will not sustain them for long, and it will cost them dearly.”

  “Even so…” Carthius shook his head. “But you are also desperate to escape. I suppose, one way or another, you either will, or you will become a spirit god. I hope it is the former.”

  “It will be. If all else fails, I shall destroy this world.” Bane gazed at the dark angels, still immobile on their plinths. “How much longer do we have?”

  “Not much.”

  “Then I shall take the initiative and let fate decide the rest.”

  “Kayos will move heaven and earth to save you,” Carthius remarked. “He will not wish you to lose your mortality, which makes you such a powerful warrior for the light.”

  “I know. He plans to summon me, and imperil his daughter and her domain to do it. That is why I must free myself. I will not have them sacrificed for my sake.”

  Carthius raised his brows. “You would rather sacrifice yourself?”

  “I would rather no one was sacrificed.”

  “That will be a mean feat. I hope I live to see it.”

  Bane headed back towards the throne, Carthius at his side. Majelin trailed them, and Bane wondered at his lengthy silence.

  “The tra’mith cannot see or hear me,” the spirit god said.

  Bane nodded. “When the time is right, you must return to your body.”

  “I shall, even though it will cost me dearly. I wish your plan to work, Lord Bane. I have suffered long enough.”

  “I regret that I cannot save you.”

  “Perhaps it is an important lesson for one such as you: that you cannot always save everyone. I am resigned to my fate, and my end will be a release, so, in a way, you will save me.”

  Kayos cursed and rose to pace the gazebo, where he had Moved to after the confrontation with Mirra, for privacy, Drevarin guessed. He had followed, and Sherinias had joined them a short while later, her duties in the White City put on hold, for the moment. The Grey God ran a hand through his hair. “I fear Bane is about to blunder. That is a void gate. If he intends to cast Carthius into it… It is too dangerous. Carthius may draw the sword the moment he is freed from the manacles.”

  “Surely he must know what Bane is?” Drevarin asked.

  “That does not mean he will not kill him to end his suffering. He has been trapped there for so long, he may well have lost his reason, and besides, he is an ancient god. They are warlike. That can only be how his domain was destroyed, although its destroyer seems to have left.”

  “What about the Forbidding?”

  Kayos shook his head. “I do not know. Carthius must have spoken it before he was imprisoned, so the dark god must still be there. Perhaps he is waiting for Bane to find a way out.”

  “Perhaps it was not a dark god who imprisoned Carthius?”

  “What else could it be?”

  “What about the changelings? Maybe they are the reason for the Forbidding. Perhaps they became something even worse?”

  Kayos halted. “Something capable of imprisoning a light god? That is unlikely.”

  “But not impossible, if there were many of them. Clearly a great war was fough
t there, and if it was not a dark god…”

  “It must have been. I wish I could have heard Carthius’ tale, but whatever it was, I do not believe opening the void gate is the answer, and that, I think, is what Bane intends to do, but first he must free Carthius. If he draws that sword…” Kayos turned to his daughter. “Sherinias. I require your Oracle. Prepare to relinquish it.”

  The child goddess paled and gulped. “Why, Father?”

  “I must summon Bane. It is the only way to save him.”

  She bowed her head and clasped her hands. “I will obey, Father.”

  “You are a good daughter. I regret the pain this will cause you.”

  “I will give my life to save my brother, just as he saved me. Nothing is more important.”

  Sherinias lay down on her couch and stretched out, folding her hands over her breast. Drevarin’s heart ached, and he chewed his lip. Sherinias’ eyes drifted closed, and she sighed.

  Kayos swung away, frowning. “Droth carmar jahar, montath endril.”

  Drevarin sensed the power in the light realm increasing as the Grey God took charge of the Oracle, adding his ancient knowledge and power to it. The sky brightened to intense rainbow hues, the garden became dazzling, and a soft wind stirred the fleecy streamers on the cloud trees.

  The Demon Lord lengthened his strides as he neared the throne, raised a hand and summoned a sword. A shining blade appeared in his fist, and he headed for the closest statue, drew back the weapon and swung it. The blade struck the stone angel’s waist with a resounding clang, and the statue shattered. As the fragments fell, he spun towards the next angel, lashing out with the sword. The stone broke at the waist and the torso toppled. Bane reached a third angel in two strides and smashed it as the shards of the first hit the floor with sharp reports and dull thuds, shattering again. As Bane headed for the next statue, it raised its head and opened pitch-black eyes. Grey dust shivered from its surface and streamed off it as it turned, raised its sword and wings and stepped off its plinth.

  Bane swung his weapon again, clipping the angel’s arm as he spun away and leapt, moving with a demon’s speed and aided by a sweep of his wings. He halted several yards away, turned and shrugged off his raiment, which fell in a silvery pool at his feet. His blue-sheened black armour moulded a powerful chest, scale mail sheathed his upper arms and a short kilt of silvery-grey cloth hung to mid-thigh. Black sandals shod his feet, and his long, ink-black hair fell to his waist, framing a face with dead white skin and slanted, narrow eyes. His wings, too, were dark grey, each feather tipped with black.

  Majelin looked like something foul and slimy had died in his mouth. He glared at the dark angel, his hands clenched. Bane hoped he would not do anything foolish. He turned to another statue, but it, too, came to life and sprang out of reach. The others moved slowly at first, shedding the dust that filmed them and their robes. Some stepped down from their plinths to face Bane; others remained upon them, gazing down at him. The one he had cut inspected the wound in his arm, which oozed black blood. Seven of the tra’mith were females, Bane noted, but that did not make them any less formidable.

  The injured angel raised frigid eyes to meet Bane’s glare. “Who are you, who dare to strike us?” He spoke in a grating hiss that reminded Bane of a fire demon’s voice.

  Bane lowered his sword. “I am the Demon Lord.”

  “Why do you attack us?”

  “You are abominations. Creatures of the light, fallen to the darkness.” Bane turned his head and spat. “You are filth!”

  “Strange for you to speak so, who are a mere mortal.”

  “You will all bow to me, or die.”

  “We bow to no one, and it is you who will die.”

  Bane eyed the throng, knowing that he would have to follow the dark power’s teachings if he was to prevail against these creatures. He had all but forgotten what it was to be a true dark god, to let the darkness rule him and follow its urgings, so against his own wishes. It still urged him to torture Carthius and Majelin, so he had to make the dark angels his enemies in order to rouse the power within him against them. Already, the dark angel’s words goaded it, and he allowed its malevolence to infuse and guide him.

  “You do not know to whom you speak, underling. You are as mere chaff in the wind to me, dirt beneath my boots. I will smear you to ash. Bow down now, or die! Do not imagine your puny powers are any match for mine. I am the darkness!”

  The angel glanced at his cohorts, but his icy demeanour remained. “You may be a lord of demons, but we are not them. You cannot banish or summon us to do your will.”

  “Then I will destroy you, as I have destroyed demons and dark gods aplenty. Think you that you rival a dark god in power?”

  “No, but we are many, and you are but one.” The angel’s lip curled. “And a mortal.”

  Bane lunged at him and thrust his sword into his chest, sending him staggering back. Bane yanked the weapon free and swung it as the others rushed at him, slicing the angel’s throat, then jerked up his chin and flung his foes away with the power of his mind. Majelin reeled into the throne, clutched it and dropped into a crouch beside it. The tra’mith scrambled to their feet, and the one Bane had wounded rubbed the vanishing hole in his chest as the gash in his neck healed. Their immortality did indeed make them formidable foes, and he wondered if they were also immune to the dark power. Probably. Yet he would have to find a way to kill some more of them if he was to force the others to obey him. Slaying three of them as statues had not impressed them; they would consider it a cheap shot. He glared at the nearest, a tall woman with patrician features, and stretched a hand out towards her.

  “Burn.”

  The angel stepped back and looked down at herself, rubbing her arm where a red glow ate at her skin from within. Smoke rose from her hair, and she breathed steam. She shrieked and tore at her burning arm, ripping the skin to reveal the fiery flesh under it. The others stared at her, retreating as she dropped her sword and fell to her knees, her wings catching fire with a whoosh. Flames licked at her hair and consumed it, yet still she gasped, shrieked and writhed. Immortality could be a curse under such circumstances, Bane mused. He smiled and advanced on the angel, who twisted and groaned.

  “I have the power of life and death,” he stated. “Serve me, and I will let you live.”

  “Never,” the first angel said. “You cannot kill us thus. She will not die.”

  “Then she will burn forever. That should be fun.”

  Bane sensed a draining of his strength, and knew the tra’mith were drawing off his life force. That was dangerous, as Carthius had warned. They would grow stronger while he weakened.

  Black shields shot up all around him, slicing two angels in half, and the drain ceased. The bifurcated angels lay unmoving, and their skin turned grey. So, they could be killed. He let the shields drop. The others stared at the corpses, glanced at each other, and vanished. Bane cursed. This could turn into a long and messy battle that he might lose, against ten invisible foes. The burning angel groaned and writhed, tearing at her smouldering skin, shredding it to fiery tatters that littered the floor around her. Bane strode over to her and chopped off her head, then turned, his sword ready.

  “Show yourselves, cowards. Are you afraid to face me now? I will slay you all, but bow to me, and I will free you from this place.”

  The first angel appeared several paces away. “How?”

  “The god you have imprisoned. I can force his spirit to return, and he will open the gate.”

  “The black gate?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is not a realm gate, or a world gate.”

  “No, it is better.”

  The angel eyed him. “What is it?”

  Bane racked his brains for a suitably impressive name. “It is a god gate.”

  The angel glanced around, as if seeking his fellows. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

  “You have been imprisoned in this realm all your life. You know nothing.”
>
  “Where does it go?”

  “It will take you to a distant domain. He was going to use it to escape, but you imprisoned him before he could.” Bane motioned to the slumped light god.

  “Why would you wish to free us?”

  “I despise you, but I will spare you and free you if you serve me.”

  “You cannot bind us.”

  Bane strolled towards the angel, who appeared ill at ease. “You have little notion of what awaits you outside, do you? Mortals beyond counting, in numberless domains. Sustenance enough for all of you, and your offspring. But also demon beasts, most importantly, hellhounds. Betray me, and I will summon some and send them to hunt you down. You can have freedom, and boundless life force to feed on, or you can have death, like them.” Bane indicated the dead angels. “You choose. I care not. I do not need you to serve me, but I have not encountered your kind outside. It strikes me that you will be useful servants, more pleasing than demons. I will enjoy watching you feed. I will breed an army of you, and lay waste to many domains. I shall imprison the puny light gods who rule them and torture them for my pleasure, while you decimate the humans. How does that sound?”

  “It is doubtless intended to tempt me, and it does. You offer this because you fear us?”

  Bane snorted. “Why would I fear you? I have slain six of you and none of you has so much as touched me. Nor will you. I intend to use the light god to free myself anyway, but you lot trying to attack me will be annoying. So, you could be useful servants, and pleasing, if you suffer as easily as that female did.” He voiced the darkness’ wishes, as a true dark god would.

  “I can see how we can help you, but what will you do for us, apart from freeing us, if you can?”

  “You doubt me?” Bane chuckled and shook his head. “Out there, you will require my protection. You have triumphed against humans and their machines, but a light god slew thousands of you. There are plenty of light gods outside, and they will hunt you.”

  The angel glanced around again, clearly unsure, and two more became visible, drew close to him and muttered. The first nodded, then looked at Bane. “Prove that you can free us.”

 

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