Dagger - The Light at the End of the World

by Walt Popester

  Moak sat in front of the light in the company of a girl, no more than thirteen. “I heard you scream this night,” the Guardian said, watching him approach while pouring some yellowish and fat liquid in a cup, to which Dagger preferred three large slices of bacon.

  “Veally?” he asked with full mouth. “I gueff you were guavding the door.”

  “Of course I was. What were you dreaming about? It would be interesting for my studies.”

  Dagger shrugged, continuing to eat. “I don’t remember.”

  Moak stared at him, before winking at the girl. “She is Kugar. Kugar, this is Dagger, the boy I told you about some time ago.”

  But the girl continued to stare at the ground, quietly sipping the liquid in the cup as if she were far away from there.

  “Kugar?”

  “I’m not here,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I’m not even supposed to be here.”

  “Girl, the pact was different.”

  Kugar lowered the cup. “I do not make pacts, with anyone.” Her voice was rather deep for a girl her age, in stark contrast to the fine appearance, the long raven-black hair, the fair skin adorned with small scars. In addition to two eyes so blue that no sea had ever seen.

  “Uhm, you’re wrong here,” Moak replied, calmly. “Maybe I just have to leave you alone. He is not one of them, he deserves a chance, but it will be hard for him to decide which side to take if he doesn’t even know where he comes from. Do just like I told you and explain to him what he should know.”

  “I’ll try, lizard Guardian. I’ll try.”

  Moak got up.

  Olem, from a distance, saw him. “Come with us, lizard!” he yelled through the hold. “We were talking about the mothers of you Guardians of the Poison, about how they give birth on the fly between a murder and the other.”

  Everybody laughed at his wild burst of laughter but, when he stopped laughing, everyone stopped laughing with him.

  “He’ll never grow up,” Moak snorted before going to him.

  Dagger turned to Kugar, but she continued to ignore him even now that the Guardian had left them alone. For his part, he did not have much to say to that girl who pretended to have a lived-in appearance, but who probably had never risked ending crucified to please the gods. He looked down at the big tray, filled with bacon, and only after he had filled every usable space in his mouth he looked up.

  Kugar was now peering through the purple light, with her cold stare. “It’s impossible to hide anything from Moak. I wouldn’t keep secrets from him, if I were you. He smells bullshit even from miles away.”

  “Really, this is nothing new to me.”

  “He’s a Guardian of the Poison, he’s my master. He has read and studied too much to be teased by a piece of shit like you.”

  Dagger swallowed the bacon in one gulp. “He will never be as good as Sannah,” he replied, starting back to eat. “The old man could understand what you were hiding, why were you hiding it and what you were afraid he would do you once he discovered you.”

  Kugar grinned. “Sannah was not a Guardian whatsoever. He was Dracon of the Delta, at least before he lost his mind and fled from our world. The Deltas are the elected body of the Guardians, the only people Hammoth would ever give the task to bring you back to the Fortress. Many Guardians have died fighting Gorgors in Melekesh, while you were dead and quiet on Marduk’s shoulders. Don’t you feel honored, and a little guilty, you who are alone?”

  Dagger grinned. “I’m afraid you’ll have to commit yourself a little more if you think you can hurt me with so little.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “Why do I piss you off? You don’t even know me!”

  “Oh, me and Moak know about you more than what you think you know,” she resumed. “On Candehel-mas you are a sort of—”

  “Legend?”

  “Oh, no. A sort of story, the kind that are told to children to scare them, ‘if you’re not a good boy the black man will come and rape your mother.’ Stuff like that.”

  Dagger clenched his fists, absorbing the shock. “You’re really nice. If we were at the guild, I’d have already killed you.”

  “You’ve never killed anyone. The look in the eyes of someone who has killed someone is different. It’s a look without light. It must be the little trick you used to retain a glimmer of humanity in spite of what you did to survive. At least you thought, since there’s nothing human in you. In fact, you’re not even human.”

  “You’re quick to understand people, huh?”

  “I do my best.”

  “So what am I supposed to be?”

  “An abomination,” she continued, naturally. “Just talking to you makes me shudder. You are the summary of what there is most vile and obscene in our world. The son of Skyrgal for many. Just the living container of his blood for others. The negation of everything we believe in and the result of a betrayal; the betrayal of a woman against her god and her blood brothers, against their values, even against herself and her being a mother. Even she has disowned you, kicking you out of her life.” She sipped from the cup. “Uhm, delightful, this Mokai.”

  “If you don’t stop trying to hurt me with that bitch talking, I’ll go and tell Moak that you’re nasty,” Dagger replied.

  Kugar grimaced, annoyed by his constant irony. She did not know that Dagger had always hidden all his pain behind that.

  “Sure I’m not your enemy,” he resumed. “And you don’t need to be Moak to understand that even you carry your enemy inside yourself. Yes. You’re not the only one quick to understand people. You could say I used to do it for work. You have been abandoned, more than once, and most of those words were about yourself. Poor, poor blacks curls.”

  The girl lowered her face. “You little son of a bitch,” she whispered after a while.

  “Tell me about that bitch. Who was my mother?”

  Kugar chuckled. In response Dagger snapped and threw her to the ground, with one hand on the throat and the shining blade against her white, beautiful face, treating her not differently from any client out of the tavern of the gypsy.

  “What you say? Now that I know I’m a monster, I may begin to kill someone,” he told her face-to-face. Everybody were looking at them now, even Olem, yet no one wanted to intervene. “Why did my mother betray you? Why did she accept the son of Skyrgal in her womb?”

  “How should I know? Perhaps she wanted to experience the thrill of getting fucked by a god?” The fist arrived on time and Kugar took it in plain face, but when she turned again she was still grinning. “Your mother was not in love with the god, you stupid!”

  “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  “…but with the man in whom Skyrgal had reincarnated. Happy little family, right? He, she… and the god that penetrated both, although in different ways.”

  Dagger shivered. “That man. Is he the Divine?”

  Kugar just nodded and Dagger let her go.

  “Once, his name was Crowley Nightfall” she said, sitting down again. “Once he was our Pendracon and won a war that everyone thought lost. He was captured by Gorgors and led to Adramelech, their ancient metropolis, where they stacked the soul of Skyrgal inside his body,” she paused. “Well, excuse me for the brutality. When Skyrgal came back to your mother hidden in that body, you can easily imagine what happened.”

  “She thought that Crowley was still alive,” Dagger deduced in a whisper. “And she has followed him, only to find herself prisoner of Skyrgal!”

  Kugar nodded. “Karkenos used her to pursue his sole purpose,” she continued. “The only goal he had set for the short time he was allowed to spend as a mortal: to find a way to regenerate his blood, the one he needs to return in his true body. You.”

  That said, she looked at him, but Dagger was no longer listening. “Mom,” he whispered.

  “Yeah. Bitch must have had a bad quarter of an hour when the illusion fell, as she watched the body of the man she loved falling ap
art day after day.”

  Dagger closed his eyes. “Continue.”

  “After realizing she had only been exploited, Aniah managed to escape from the desert where she was held prisoner, bringing you with her to steal you from Gorgors hands, and hand you over to the Guardians.”

  “To hide me?”

  “Oh, no. To kill you,” she specified. “That was her initial intention. She hoped that Araya, the Dracon of the Poison, knew a way to do it, so to rectify her mistake. She must have really loved you. Too bad you can’t die, as Marduk effectively showed you. And bringing you to the Fortress she has only doomed us to hide you forever.”

  They kept silent for a while.

  “I’ve known her,” Kugar resumed. “I was there when, reduced to little more than a human larva, she revealed the place where you were hidden. Only after that, she abandoned herself to the last relief. Hers is a sad story, a story of loneliness. I cried when she left, cursing her at the same time.”

  Dagger tried not to show any emotion.

  “You already know the rest of the story: you’ve been missing for all this time and, for us, it’s been like having a poisonous spider hidden under the bedsheets, ready to bite any time, anywhere. We’ve searched for you far and wide and like us, it seems, even the damn shadows.”

  “But how did the Gorgor know I was in Melekesh, in this world? And how did they set foot here?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think in your goddamn Fortress there’s a hole in the fence where a lot of big fishes come through. That’s why my mother did not tell you where she hid me until it was unavoidable. She did not trust anyone, not even you.”

  “What a fine intellect. Well. Now you understand.”

  “Yes, now I understand what the ‘situation at the Fortress’ is. To get me back there will just be crazy, Olem is right.”

  Kugar shrugged. “Olem is always right. When he is wrong, he does not speak, but sooner or later he will understand too there’s no other choice. My teacher just wanted you to know who you are once and for all. Now you know you can only trust yourself. No one really cares about you, your company is just a necessary evil. We don’t even know how you really work.”

  “I am a person, not a thing!”

  Kugar grinned. “Oh. Do you really believe that?”

  The flow of words stopped there.

  They sat in front of the light, speaking no longer. Dagger stealthily looked at Olem, intent to charge his ivory pipe with tobacco as he sat next to Moak. They had been watching them all that time, he was sure. They seemed somehow curious about what would happen between the two of them.

  Then a door was thrown open and woke everyone from his thoughts. One of the sailors got down from the deck, a big man, tall and mighty. He approached Moak and whispered something in his ear. After that, the Guardian raised his face to look at him in amazement. There was concern in his eyes. He immediately followed him on the deck, closing the door behind.

  Kugar kept on staring at the purple balls of light, while Olem stopped loading the tobacco into his pipe. Their eyes met for a moment, then Dagger moved his attention back to the door and Olem began to reload his pipe, dark in face.

  The door was opened once again. This time it was Moak who hurried down the stairs, trying not to look nervous. He approached Olem and spoke into his ear. Dagger saw the expression on the Dracon’s face become more and more serious, as the ever-present grin disappeared from his face. He lit his pipe between his lips and followed Moak above.

  “It’s something serious,” Kugar deduced. “If Olem stood up while he was smoking, it’s something terribly serious.”

  Minutes followed minutes and nothing happened when Kugar, tired of waiting, decided to climb the stairs and get out on the bridge. Dagger followed her. Outside, the two Guardians and the sailors were staring at at a black point on the horizon, like of a distant ship. It was still difficult to distinguish its shape and size but, judging from the expression on the face of Moak, he realized that something wicked was on the way.

  A shadow passed over them. Dagger took a look to the sky and saw a few tiny black dots, such as birds flying at high altitudes. Kugar looked up too. The birds came nearer, so that now it was possible to make out their shape: they had webbed wings and long and hooked beak.

  “And what the Ktisis are those?”

  “Troubles,” she said after a little.

  His bewilderment increased when he realized those beasts were ridden. Some shadowy silhouettes that he knew all too well sat on their back, holding long reins in their hands. Gorgors had followed them all along and were now hunting them from above. Dagger found himself shaken by memories too vivid to be easily erased.

  “Do you have armor?” Kugar asked.

  “What’s the use of an armor when you’re immortal?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Professional deformation.”

  She turned to the Guardians, who were still looking at the ship on the horizon. “Cruachan!” she cried.

  Just hearing that name, Olem and Moak suddenly looked up. Even the Guardians who were still in the hold got up to show outside, some of them already with a sword in hand.

  Olem approached them with great strides. “Get down!” he ordered. “Everybody, get down! Arm yourself to the teeth and wait for my orders! If we have to fight in this world too, we’ll do it, Ktisis bastard!”

  The Guardians did as ordered and descended into the belly of the ship.

  Olem turned to Kugar and looked as if he wanted to kill her just with his glance. “Try to spread panic among my men again and I’ll cut your tongue!”

  The girl bowed. “Forgive me, Dracon.”

  Moak came to them. “They don’t want to attack us for the moment. Otherwise, they would have already done so. It seems they are just following us. What do we do, Dracon?”

  “Dammit!” Olem growled, turning to the sky again. “If they have brought their fucking Cruachans on this world—”

  “Gorgors have created a stable base on these islands,” Moak finished. “That’s no secret. But where did they get out from?”

  “And that ship?” Kugar added.

  Dagger looked at the spot on the horizon: it had taken the shape of a war vessel of the navy of Melekesh, sailing for them.

  Olem nodded imperceptibly. “They’re following us since we left the harbor,” he said. “They waited for us to take into deep water and find ourselves trapped among these rocks. With those sails and this wind, it’s no surprise they’re traveling faster than us.”

  “I think the situation is clear,” Moak said. “This whole world has been turned against us.”

  “How did they do?”

  “It no longer matters, now. Now we have to be sharp.”

  “Our blades must be!” Olem replied. “They want to hunt us down? Fine with me. They’ll find themselves in the belly of the sea before they have a chance to plead to their obscene god!” That said he disappeared through the door.

  Moak shook his head. “It’s all happening too fast. Olem is not Marduk. Not having much time at his disposal prevents him from thinking. And when he can’t think, he thinks to kill which is what he does best. How I wish Marduk was here!”

  “The Divine,” Kugar muttered. “Even Mawson and the Melekesh authorities work for him! There must be another link between the two worlds!”

  “Stop talking nonsense,” Olem opposed.

  “If Gorgors are attacking us they are doing it only for one reason— they know they have victory in hand!”

  Moak turned Kugar to face her. “Knowing that you’re going to lose is not a sufficient reason to stop fighting! It’s the fifth commandment, dammit! The most important! Don’t you ever forget it!”

  Kugar glanced back at him. “Then I’ll fight too!”

  “Don’t be stupid, you’d just get in the way. The two of you will remain hidden. When the ship is boarded, we’ll fight to the death to beat them back.”

  “And if you don’t make it?”


  Moak grew dark. “If we do not make it. Well… I hope that someone at least discovers how do Gorgors get on this world!” He left them alone.

  “I hope that someone discover how Gorgors get on this world,” Dagger repeated, looking around. The sails were spread to the wind and sailors, with the sun-baked skin and dark hair, idly managed the ropes under the orders of the bosun, a fat bald man who had more fingers than teeth. At the helm, there was another old man with both eyes and both legs, which was a rare quality for someone aged on the sea in that corner of the world.

  “These people have no fear,” Dagger noticed.

  “So what?”

  “You don’t understand. They are the ones who sold you out,” Dagger deduced. “They’re too calm. They’re waiting for a reward. I’ll be damned another time if there’s not the shadow of betrayal in their attitudes.”

  Kugar looked at them in turn, and answered nothing.

  The ship plowed the waves among the high cliffs of the archipelago. He knew those islands were virtually unpopulated, except for a few villages along the coast, inhabited by fishermen so used to the adversities of life to fear nothing, neither isolation nor storms, nor the violence of pirates. Just as well, he thought to himself. He had many things to ask Skyrgal. He would run against the first sharp sword that someone would be so stupid as to put it before his nose.