The Merchant and the Menace

by Daniel F McHugh

  ‘Kill him,’ shouted Amird, ‘and discard his body outside the city for the buzzards to eat!’

  Awoi lowered his head and sobbed. Not for the pain and outrage he suffered, but for the lost soul of his brother. The leader of the troop hesitated until he saw the Seraph crying. His wicked, twisted heart found no fear from a prostrate, defenseless man in the throws of sorrow. The leader moved forward smiling and raised his club. As he struck down toward the exposed head of Awoi a green light pulsed forth from the body of the Seraph. The club struck the light and bounced back as if striking stone. The leader dropped his cudgel and his arm ached from the contact with the light. He spun and ordered his troop to cut Awoi to pieces. Awoi rose and calmly asked the men to leave him in peace.

  ‘I will not injure any here, but I cannot allow myself to be harmed,’ stated Awoi.

  The troops ran toward him and were struck by the green flame. They were knocked to the ground and many lost their weapons. Awoi looked to his brother on the balcony.

  ‘I wandered the wilderness for centuries while you dwelt in the safety of cities. I learned to control my spiritual force to protect myself from the violence of nature. Neither beast nor storm harms me.

  ‘Neither will your misguided servants. Please Amird, come away from here and talk to me. Something terrible takes control of you. I’m your brother. I love you.’

  Amird was expressionless. He moved toward the balcony stairway.

  ‘Perhaps, ... perhaps I am in need of good council, brother,’ said Amird as he moved down the stairs. ‘My duties consume and control me.’

  Amird reached the ground and approached Awoi.

  ‘Your first duty is the nurturing of man, not his subjugation,’ responded Awoi. ‘Come with me and we’ll rediscover our mission.’

  Amird’s head sagged and he sobbed into his hands.

  ‘You are right brother. I lose my way,’ bellowed Amird. ‘Please, help me regain control of myself.’

  Awoi approached Amird and wrapped his brother in his arms.

  ‘Amird, forces outside this world try to control you. Temptations wear you down. Remove yourself from this foul place and we will commune together in the pure splendor of Avra’s world.’

  Amird remained wrapped in his brother’s embrace and sobbed into Awoi’s chest.

  ‘While you wandered the wild, I immersed myself in the matters of men. They possessed me. You learned to protect yourself from tempest and wild creature, but I learned something more useful.’

  Amird lifted his head and his glowing red eyes stared into those of his brother.

  ‘I discovered the perfect tools to motivate and teach men. Fear and Pain!’

  Scarlet fire sprang from his body and engulfed Awoi. Unprepared for the assault, Awoi was badly burned. His body convulsed in pain, but he held the embrace of his brother.

  ‘Think of the great goodness of your Creator, my brother!’ cried Awoi.

  Awoi screamed in pain and the green flame he used earlier sprang from his body. It struck Amird and sent him flying through the air. Awoi slumped to the ground once more. Amird landed on his back several paces away.

  ‘Brother, what evil embraces you?’ whispered Awoi, his head lowered.

  Amird sprang to his feet.

  ‘You! You and your Master try to force me to serve these pathetic creatures,’ screamed Amird sweeping a hand toward the remaining soldiers. ‘Amird serves no one. All will serve me, and this world will bow to my will!’

  ‘You serve and do not realize it,’ said Awoi. ‘You are a slave to temptation and passions. Like a dog on a leash, you do the bidding of your master, Chaos. It corrupts your soul and seeks only selfish pleasures and empty promises.’

  ‘A DOG!’ shouted Amird. ‘For thousands of years, thou art the only being I let address me in such a manner. I killed thousands who refused to follow my will. Avra praises your feeble work and finds fault with mine. You accomplished nothing in the millennia we existed. It is I who dragged these ignorant humans from the caves of their ancestors into the light of my knowledge. You are an obstacle in my path. Now feel the pain of this dog’s bite!’

  Amird raised his hands above his shoulders and threw his head back. His eyes rolled and his hands sparked and crackled. Crimson flame sprang once more from his hands and spread across his body. Within seconds he was a living flame. He lowered his eyes and glared at Awoi.

  ‘Die, and pester me no further,’ snarled Amird.

  The fire sprang once more from his form and engulfed Awoi. Yet again the pulse of green power surrounded the kneeling Awoi and channeled the flames to either side of his body. Amird cursed his brother’s name and advanced.

  The red flame beat against the green wall and Awoi sweated from exertion. Amird bent low as he approached his brother and grasped the hilt of one of the soldier’s discarded swords. Instantly the blade grew red hot and burst into flame. As he marched into proximity with the pulsating green wall, Amird slashed at it with the fiery sword. Each time he slammed the blade into the wall, Awoi clenched his teeth and winced from the pressure. Amird laughed and taunted his brother.

  ‘You cannot hold forever, dear brother,’ snarled Amird. ‘You will gulp your last breath of Avra’s sweat air when you can hold no longer!’

  Amird doubled his efforts with the blade. He channeled most of the power of the flame into its razor edge. Each successive crash of the blade weakened the green sphere holding Awoi. Sweat covered the Guide and his breathing became labored.

  ‘Amird, think on what you do,’ gasped Awoi. ‘You will forever be separated from our Master. What you do here today cannot be undone.’

  ‘Avra is no Master of mine!’ raged Amird ‘He is weak and powerless, unwilling to force men to worship him. I, however, will force them. I have no intention of what I do here today ever being undone, even by Avra himself!’

  The blade sparked and hissed, glowing with the fury of its owner. It crashed down once more into Awoi’s protection, and rent a large gash in the wall. Amird howled in delight and his wild red eyes glared at his brother. Awoi begged him one last time.

  ‘Show me mercy, dear brother.’ cried Awoi.

  The fiery blade leapt into the air and arced down on the prostrate Seraph. Awoi lunged up and out from the path of the blade, the troop leader’s cudgel grasped firmly in his right hand. Amird’s stroke missed its center mark but found Awoi’s left shoulder and cut deeply into his arm. Awoi rose and the cudgel whipped into the back of Amird’s skull with a loud ‘thunk’. The scarlet flames vanished and Amird slumped to the ground unconscious. Awoi screamed in pain and staggered forward, falling to the ground. Blood sprang from his open wounds and spilled onto the dusty street. Awoi slipped into unconsciousness.

  When Awoi awoke he was uncertain how much time had passed. The city was deathly quiet. Amird lay in the same position on the street, a small trickle of blood drying around his nose. The troop was gone and none of the city’s inhabitants were visible. The Guide cried out for help, but none was forthcoming. He rose and walked to his brother’s body, clenching his teeth and holding his aching shoulder. Awoi felt unsteady on his feet and blood still seeped from the deep wound. He knelt over his brother. Amird’s body was warm. He lived.

  Suddenly, an arrow crashed off the pavement beside him. Awoi leapt to his feet and called upon his spirit to protect him. A feeble, ragged wall of green light sprang up around him. He was in no shape to defend himself. He could not stand a second assault by Amird’s mercenaries. He turned and looked at his brother one last time then fled from the city.

  Awoi wandered north, using his skill in the wilderness to cover his tracks. He was losing far too much blood and was incredibly weak. Fever set in and along with it delirium. He wandered for days eating when he could. Days turned into weeks and his fever grew. Awoi knew not where he was or where he was going. The days and nights grew colder and the Seraph feared for his life.

  One evening he climbed a steep ridgeline and the stress of the climb was too mu
ch for him. He fell to the ground unconscious. When he awoke, he started in fear. Silhouetted above him in the moonlight was a large bear. Awoi tried desperately to protect himself, but he was too disoriented and weak. He scrambled backward, shouting and flailing his arms. A kindly voice called out to him.

  ‘Awoi. Be not afraid.’

  Gretcha stepped forward and removed the animal skins she wore to fend off the coming winter.

  ‘It is I, Gretcha. Have no fear. I will take care of you.’

  Awoi felt relief flood his body. The savior became the saved. Gretcha’s voice was the most beautiful sound he ever heard, his beacon in a storm of confusion. After weeks of struggle he finally relaxed. Awoi drifted back into a restful unconsciousness.

  ‘I believed I lost you. When you didn’t return within the year I knew something was wrong. You are a man of honor, and your word is your bond. Sleep now, Awoi the True. I will make you whole again.’

  Gretcha stripped the bearskin from her torso and wrapped Awoi in its warmth. She scooped the Seraph up in her powerful arms and marched north toward their cabin.

  For four weeks the giant maiden cared for the Guide. His fever rose in the first week but eventually broke and his faculties were returned to him. His shoulder was badly wounded. Gretcha bathed the wound daily and the gash closed and healed. However, the Guide was not able to raise his arm and it was all but useless to him.

  Gretcha left everyday to pick mountain berries and occasionally hunt for game. Awoi grew to realize his deep love for the Zodrian princess. Her spirit was pure and her love immeasurable. She harbored no hatred or desire for vengeance even though she was so mistreated. Gretcha truly was a beautiful heart.

  Awoi’s health slowly returned, but his spirit remained weak. He was sure another encounter with his brother would result in death. Gretcha convinced him to stay hidden in the mountains and return to full strength before he left to try council once more. Two years passed. This time however, it was Gretcha who provided protection and sustenance.

  One day in the early spring a hunched back old beggar struggled up the slopes toward their cabin.

  ‘Hello, in the cabin,’ called the beggar. ‘Please spare a bite for an old man.’

  Gretcha turned to Awoi.

  ‘I will offer him some assistance, dear one,’ stated the woman.

  ‘Hold a moment,’ said Awoi, ‘I will go.’

  Awoi exited the cabin as the old man entered the clearing.

  ‘I saw smoke from your fireplace, friend,’ said the beggar. ‘I hoped to find someone of a giving nature and a kindly disposition.’

  ‘You have, my friend,’ began Awoi, ‘We cannot offer much, but be welcome and we will share all that we possess. So as it should be with all Avra’s creations.’

  ‘So as it should be,’ returned the old man.

  Gretcha stepped from the cabin. Her powerful stride and large size startled the man.

  ‘Be not afraid, good man,’ said Awoi. ‘Gretcha is of the kindliest nature and sweetest disposition of any being. Her size may intimidate you, but her heart is full of goodness.’

  The old man recovered quickly and turned to the maiden.

  ‘I was taken aback for I judged only a hermit or outcast like myself lived so far from all other mortal beings. I startled to see another step from such a small dwelling.’

  ‘Ha,’ laughed Gretcha smiling to Awoi. ‘You are correct on both counts. A hermit and his devoted outcast live here together. That we found each other is a miracle.’

  ‘We cheerfully offer you food and a warm place on the floor to sleep, but possess little more. Perhaps you desire someone to talk to as well? We are experts at listening to what troubles others,’ said Awoi staring hard into the old man’s eyes.

  ‘A bite of food and a friend for conversation would be wonderful in these trying times,’ stated the old man.

  ‘I’m afraid we only have berries and some tubers to eat,’ said Gretcha. ‘I intended to hunt today.’

  ‘Gretcha, my dear, we must offer our guest better than tubers and berries. If you intended to hunt, please go. I will hear our friend’s story and perhaps render some comfort.’

  Gretcha smiled and nodded. She entered the cabin and retrieved a short bow and small quiver filled with stone tipped arrows. Awoi smiled at her approvingly.

  ‘Good hunting, my princess.’

  Gretcha smiled and sprang down the path into the wilds of the Northern Mountains. After she was gone for a long moment, Awoi turned back to the old man.

  ‘It’s pure joy to spend time with someone so open and honest about her emotions,’ reflected Awoi.

  ‘She appears to be a remarkable woman,’ said the old man.

  ‘Honesty is a rare commodity these days. The world moves in a direction I do not favor,’ stated Awoi.

  ‘The world is what it is and we must shape ourselves around it, or it around ourselves,’ replied the old man.

  Awoi smiled and sighed. He placed himself across from the old man in the clearing.

  ‘My world would be joyous once more if I truly believed you came here for council and assistance, my brother. But alas, I feel in my heart it is not the case.’

  ‘Your heart leads you truly. I seek neither advice nor council from you,’ growled Amird.

  ‘You anger because I see through your ruse,’ laughed Awoi. ‘The guise of an old beggar does not suit you. You manipulate your appearance, but cannot change your true nature in the spirit world. I see your churning maelstrom there.’

  ‘You are too proud, Awoi! You mock me and act above temptation. But we are not so unlike you and I,’ barked Amird. ‘I see that you too fall for the temptations of this world.’

  Awoi stared at his brother with a puzzled expression on his face. Amird’s anger turned to amusement.

  ‘You mean to say the beast has not told you?’ smirked Amird. ‘She is with child you fool. You who are so observant. You missed that which is right in front of your nose. I saw it clearly as she stepped from the cabin. Its lifeforce is strong, like that of no other human. Half Seraph and half human. Perhaps when you are gone I will raise it as my own and make it one of my generals. It is the least an uncle can do.’

  ‘You can raise nothing, for nothing grows under the whip of your oppression,’ yelled Awoi. ‘You know nothing of beauty or love, compassion or truth. Gretcha has lived on this world only a short time, yet she knows more of these things than you in your millennia of existence.

  ‘Avra created us apart from men. It is true our spirits are different from those of men, but the Creator put us on this world in the bodies of men. Gretcha is no temptation because our bond is true. You live in lies, subjugating all into forced existence with you. Step into the light of truth and the world will show you what a beautiful place it is.’

  ‘I care not for beauty you fool. I crave power. Beauty is a nuisance to production.’

  ‘The butterfly is beautiful yet helps produce the sweet apple.’ said Awoi.

  ‘The hornet cares not for its looks and performs the same task. Yet, the hornet rules through pain.’ came Amird’s reply.

  Awoi lowered his head and sighed.

  ‘I grow tired, brother. I must rest. I’ll not allow you to harm me. We were created with the same stroke of the painter’s brush. Our powers are matched. To undo one is to undo both. Please leave me in peace.’

  ‘It is true we were created together and our powers were matched. However, you live begging your existence off Avra and I surpass him, deriving my power from an ancient, darker source.’

  Amird pulled a scimitar from the folds of his cloak. Flame leapt from it and the blade smoldered and sputtered. He cackled as he moved toward his brother.

  ‘The last time I only crippled you. Now I will finish you!’

  Amird slowly circled Awoi, sensing his power. Awoi raised his right hand and the green glowing light appeared around it. As Amird lunged toward him, Awoi spun away. The light spread from his palm and formed a wall between the men.
Amird’s sword met the wall and sprang back.

  ‘I see you recovered a good deal of strength since our last meeting. No matter. I not only recovered, but have grown.’

  Amird’s eyes rolled into his head and he mumbled an incantation. His body burst into flames and the flaming sword he carried increased its intensity. Amird reached into the folds of his cloak and produced a second fiery blade identical to the first. He crouched low then sprang toward Awoi. The dual blades churned the air as the evil Seraph slashed again and again at his brother’s shield. Awoi stood in his green shell, hand raised. He softly whispered prayers to his Lord, begging for the redemption of his brother. Sweat trickled down Awoi’s forehead and each slash weakened the intensity of the glowing orb.

  Gretcha was not too distant from the cabin when she heard voices rise. She returned and heard all. The woman crept to a spot behind a large woodpile. The revelation of her pregnancy angered her. Gretcha wished to tell Awoi under the right circumstances, and the opportunity had not shown itself. For him to find out in this manner was wrong. She watched the battle progress, stunned by the power of these two beings.

  Amird pressed on with his assault. His supply of energy appeared limitless. As Awoi weakened, Amird sensed that weakness and doubled his efforts. The green wall thinned into tatters. Amird attacked the openings and each slash widened the gaps. Gretcha concluded two things. Awoi became vulnerable and would accept defeat rather than harm his brother.

  The massive woman stood and grasped the handle of her ax, lodged deeply in a nearby tree stump. Amird eyed the green orb for a place to penetrate. Gretcha confidently stepped up behind him. Awoi stood covered in sweat, shoulders hunched, eyes closed, muttering prayers of protection. As Gretcha raised the ax the father of her unborn child looked up and their eyes met. He smiled softly to her.