Janus and Oblivion

by Noam Oswin

  It was the first time I’d ever heard her get angry. Upset, yes, but not angry.

  “JANJE WANTS THAT STAFF! GET JANJE THAT STAFF!”

  Janje was screaming, screaming, and neither Druids seemed to notice. They can’t hear her. Somehow, only I could hear Janje’s voice. Was it because I was a masakh? A monster? Was it because I was reincarnated? Or was it something else – I didn’t know.

  Momentarily, I pondered why they were yet to attack me. Why they were merely watching me with intrigue. Why the Kadulja seemed content to stare at me with revulsion and bewilderment as if attempting to solve a jigsaw puzzle left by a butcher and a serial killer. A part of me wanted to believe that she was seeing something that convinced her that I was more than just the average monster. A part of me hoped she would open her lips and ask me questions. A part of me wanted to assume she would look past my terrifying physical form and see the intelligence lurking underneath.

  That part of me was called naiveté.

  “[Destruction Lotus!]”

  The air rapidly tinged with the smell of smoke and burning. A brutal heat existed that did not belong in the cave, and along with it, there was a thunderous crack of an object breaking the sound barrier.

  “KADULJA!”

  I knew the fight would be decided by whoever attacked first. I knew it and on some level, I believed the Kadulja did as well. However, I doubted she expected me to have something ranged in my arsenal. No one expected a skeleton creature with a scary sharp tail and claws to have long-ranged attacks, when it looked so clearly attuned to close-range combat.

  It was why [Diamond Bullet] was so effective.

  My aim was not perfect, and rather than piercing her chest as I intended, it aimed lower, piercing through the wood-like dress she wore, leaving a hole in her stomach in one end and neatly coming out the other. Jade-colored blood spat from the Kadulja’s mouth and spurt from her wound, and her fiery spinning blades sizzled into nonexistence.

  MP: 3251/3600

  [Diamond Bullet] cost 250MP per use. With my current available MP, I still had thirteen shots left. Hesitation was a problem that I thankfully lacked.

  [The title {Merciless} has come into effect.]

  [Diamond Bullet].

  A cry emerged from the woman’s lips as the second crack of an object breaking the sound barrier echoed, and the bullet shattered her right shoulder. The arm wielding the staff hung limply, and the wooden apparatus dropped to the ground.

  [Diamond Bullet]

  Her right kneecap shattered along with the sound barrier and I discovered that Druids possessed chocolate-colored bones. They also screamed in pain as humans did, and lost their ability to stand once they were down to only one working knee.

  Like humans, other Druids would come to the defense of their downed member. The apprentice reached for the Kadulja’s downed staff, rapidly slamming it against the ground.

  “[Hedgerow!]”

  [Diamond Bullet]

  A thick foliage of sharp vines and tree-barks burst into existence as a protective covering, just as another shot of my diamond bullet pierced through it. The apprentice gave out a sharp cry as the bullet tore across her face. The growing foliage obscured the Kadulja and her apprentice, preventing me from seeing them and wasting valuable MP on blind-fire.

  I rushed towards the foliage, sweeping my tail and my claws down and slicing them apart as quickly as they grew.

  “[Ensnare!]”

  The vines started entangling me in the manner that vines typically did. Slicing them aside only prompted more of them to keep growing, and I was forced to change tactics. [Weak Acid Secretion] and [Strong Venom Secretion] came together in my left and right hands, slamming down on the offending vines and melting them to oblivion. They broke down and thrashed like a serpent, dropping me harshly on the cave floor.

  “Getting away! THE STAFF IS GETTING AWAY!”

  The apprentice attempted to escape with the Kadulja down the cave’s arching passageway. Carrying the staff in one hand and trying to carry her master on her back, it was an impossible task. With a gentle shake of my head, I crouched on all fours and burst past her. Skidding to a stop, I stood before the Kadulja and apprentice as they tried to escape the cave, both of their skins began turning white.

  The apprentice was bleeding. A nasty scar lay across her right eye where she’d been grazed by my diamond bullet, and the eye was closed to prevent the jade-colored blood from pouring into it. With one eye, she stood shakily against me, her master on her back, and the staff in her right hand. I had no real quarrel with the apprentice. No reason to truly fight her.

  The Kadulja was a different case. It was ironic. I hadn’t started this fight. She did. Summoning her wolves and attacking me, destroying my domain, launching fireball upon fireball at me without justification or provocation, killing me and turning me into a shade, destroying Adolf –

  She started this fight. I just wanted to survive, and she wouldn’t let me.

  I was here, fighting for my survival, and she wouldn’t let me.

  The apprentice haphazardly rose her master’s staff. I rushed her, slapping it out of her hand with my tail, and grabbed the short woman into the air with my long hands. I tossed her away and she sailed through the air like a haphazardly swung toy, slamming against the walls of the cave with a cry and dropping to the ground.

  The Kadulja lay before me. Shattered knee. Shattered shoulder. Bleeding bullet wound in stomach. Breathing haphazardly, and staring up at me with a hatred in her eyes.

  There were many, many reasons to kill her. I had many ways to kill her. It would be easy – too easy – to do it. But could I? Could I end a life, a potential stream of information, sustenance, wealth of knowledge, abilities and justify it?

  This was not the same as killing wild animals or insects. This was killing a conscious person.

  Perhaps if – if I spared her –

  Wasn’t this how I died last time? Even in another world, even with all the reasons in the world, even despite having died from it – I was still attempting to spare – save – the life of someone who should be my enemy.

  If the roles were reversed, would she would show me the same mercy?

  I did not know.

  What would happen if I let her live? Forgive and forget?

  The odds of that were abysmal. Humans did not forget in general, and although she was not human, the odds were high that she lived with individuals who cared for the security of their continued lifestyle. You would not let your children wander about if you knew there was a monster outside your forest that had attacked and maimed one of your own, and you would not be at peace until you personally went and ensured the creature was gone.

  If I let her live, she would come back, more prepared, more dedicated, with more animals and more backup, and with a stronger reason to eliminate me. Again, and again, and again – without end.

  I could not allow that to happen.

  [Diamond Bullet]

  The final crack of displaced air was the signal that the battle was over. The bullet pierced a neat hole through the Kadulja’s skull. I could have done without knowing that Druid brains were a dark purple in color. I could have done without the wide-eyed expression, the fact that despite already knowing her fate, she was still surprised at the moment of her own death.

  No one ever expected to die until they did.

  [You have slayed the Kadulja of Final Sanctuary Dryadi Tribe]

  [You have attained the title: [Sage Slayer] from the defeating a named enemy.]

  [126200 Experience Points Gained]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

  [You have gained a level]

 
The title [Genocidal] has come into effect for the Species: [Druid].

  [25 Genocide Points Earned]

  You have completed all the requirements for the Quest: Felling Trees.

  Return to the Quest Giver to Complete the Quest.

  The Kadulja’s apprentice let out a choked sound that reminded me of her presence. Her gaze turned and settled on her dead master, before turning back to me. There was fear in her eyes, and there was something else. Her skin turned from green to a dry autumn brown. I did not want to, or see the need to kill her. At the same time, I did not want her to believe I would not do so if push came to shove. I picked up the staff of Mudar with my tail, hunched on all fours, and then forced myself to give out the most convincing visage I could.

  She scrambled away from the cave’s narrow passageway, tripping and slipping over her own two feet as she fled. I waited, ensuring that I could no longer hear her footsteps, before standing back on my own two feet.

  I dusted my palms and returned deep within the hollows of the cave, where I could hear Janje’s rapid muttering and whispering, with her voice sounding more frantic and agitated than I’d ever known.

  “The staff! The staff! Masakh has the staff! Masakh must give Janje the staff!”

  There was something off about Janje’s voice. Something unsettling. Still, I gestured the staff forwards, and slammed it into the ground, directly into the tarry black remnants of Adolf’s bifurcated body.

  “STAFF OF MUDAR! BETRAYER! BETRAYER! JANJE WILL NOT BE OBSCURED! JANJE WILL NOT BE BANISHED! JANJE – JANJE WILL BE FREE!”

  I felt the world shake. The sound of glass shattering over a thousand times, endlessly –

  Chaos. That was the only word that could have been used to describe the scene before me. Chaos. Screaming noises, a cornucopia of clamors and screeches, as different colors of lights burst forth from the staff and along with it came a hundred wispy Druid souls, then a thousand souls, then more, and more, and –

  And the ground rumbled and wailed. The earth cracked and shuffled. The cave squeezed upon itself, and I found myself making a hasty retreat in lieu of the sound of Janje’s senseless laughter. I burst out of the cave just as the earth became the red sea in the midst of partition by Moses. The ground fractured and each fissure expanded further like the torn pockets of a tattered beggar. The further I ran, the further I knew that running was not going to save me from the chasm engulfing everything in a bottomless pit.

  Without preamble, everything stopped.

  “JANJE! IS! FREE!”

  Without preamble, everything exploded.

  Chapter 18

  Satisfaction

  I awoke to the smell of ash and smoke.

  The forest that was all that I had known of this world was gone. Entire lines of trees felled. Earth, barren and ablaze. Acrid black smoke reaching up into the clouds and surpassing them. Animals crushed underneath trees, burnt beyond any conceivable recognition, and others had guts and intestines pierced by contorted wooden stakes.

  I was covered with soot and smoke and ash. Standing and dusting myself brought me confusion. There was a significant amount carnage and destruction on a level that I did not believe I had, or could have created. As much as a small part of me wanted to argue that this was not my fault, I knew that I was the one responsible by providing the staff to Janje.

  But nothing I knew of Janje indicated this –

  Other than Meg, which was what I assumed was the evil creature protecting or guarding Janje, I had believed she was a simple spirit. A simple lost soul – she had not seemed malevolent in any way or form. So how – why did this happen?

  I pushed aside any speculation in lieu of discovering more about the truth. Standing on a broken tree in the middle of a dried up river, I searched out for any sources of heat or noise or vibrations that would give me any clues. It did not take me long to find it.

  Move!

  With [Cheetah Sprint] as a passive, I blurred forward. The feeling of the hot ground against my skeletal feet was slightly irritating, but I paid it no heed in lieu of finding out what was going on. I avoided the splinters of shattered wood, craters littering the earth and wide open chasms as I ran. In a matter of seconds, I’d reached what appeared to be a small village. The settlement was burning and littered with dozens of corpses.

  Lying face down against the earth was a barely clothed druid with green skin and white hair. Jade-blood poured from numerous holes littering his leg and his skin. His body was still and unmoving, nevertheless, I approached cautiously. For all I knew, he was playing possum and attempting to catch me unaware.

  He’s lying face down. That fact occurred to me. If Druid’s required air, then he could only play possum for so long before he stopped. He’s lying face down. When I thought about it a second time, I understood the implications.

  He was trying to run away. But run away from what?

  I wished I could converse with him. Unfortunately, it was not an option. Shapes and figures and caricatures would get me nowhere at all, so my only option was to ignore the downed Druid man and move on.

  The further I walked, the more corpses I encountered.

  I was grateful that I lacked a stomach and lacked the ability to be nauseated. Bodies, everywhere. Bodies on spikes, vertical, pierced from head to genitals, horizontal, skewered through ribs and dangling unevenly –

  Bodies of adults.

  Bodies of infants.

  Bodies of children.

  Bodies and blood and fire.

  I ran through the settlement, ran until I could hear the familiar sound of laughter. Ran until I stood before a tall naked figure laughing cheerfully as she repetitively stabbed a Druid in the face. Laughing, laughing and singing.

  ...Janje?

  A woman with smooth black hair contrasting against her dark emerald skin turned to face me. Naked, covered in jade-colored blood, her red pupils widened and her lips contorted into a smile upon seeing me.

  “Masakh! You’re still alive!” she smiled. “Janje is happy! But – I can’t keep going around calling myself Janje anymore and talking in the third person. Ugh – it must have been maddening to listen to me speak like that.”

  I was not sure what to say. Seeing the blood on her lips, the smile on her face, and the cheer she possessed. I found myself remembering my own words: “there’s nothing that I could know about you that would be enough to make me hate you.”

  Do you know who you are?

  Janje’s lips curled into a smile. “Of course I do. And I never would have remembered if it weren’t for you.”

  Special Quest: Rooting Out Evil Completed.

  She extended her hands forward. “Come, give me a large hug!”

  I stood, stiffly, as Janje hugged me. She was naked, pressed against me, but there was no sexual reaction for I had no sexual organs to react. Instead, a deep sense of unease landed upon me as I allowed myself to read her name and titles.

  “Oh, yes, Janje was my root name. My full name is –”

  Zlosta. I managed to say. Zlosta Janje.

  Zlosta Janje

  [The Mad Kadulja]

  [Sage of Perpetual Insanity]

  [Avatar of the Anathema: Omega]

  Druid Night-Witch

  Level ?

  Jan – Zlosta, gave me an odd look. “Yes. How did you know?”

  I did not answer her. I turned my attention to the massacre instead. I did not know these Druids, or why she went through the trouble of killing them. I did not know her reasons for doing so, or if there was anything to gain from such a pointless massacre. All I knew was that Zlosta felt it was necessary. Felt it was necessary to burn down the forest and kill children and infants.

  Why did you kill them?

  “Ah, masakh – masakh.” The witch shook her head. “That’s a long and triflingly boring story I will not go into right now. In short, I was betrayed and placed in an eternal border between this world and Nocturnal. Trapped in-between worlds for thousands of years where no on
e could see me or talk to me, well, until I met you of course. You special little thing.”

  She patted my cheekbones. A frown came unto her face as she did so. “You’re too special to go on without a name.” she clapped her hands. “A present! I’ll give you the name of one of Meg’s old war partners. He’ll find it amusing.”

  She cleared her throat, spun around and thrust her hand out towards me. Sputters of darkness spread from her fingertips like lightning bolts and rooted me to the spot before I could as much as voice out a complaint.

  “I, Zlosta Janje, Sorceress of the Night and eternal servant of the Mother, hereby beseech the night to aid my request, and grant this masakh with a name.”

  Purple fire engulfed me, and yet it did not burn. Wind howled and swallowed silence, and one of my knees dropped on their own accord.

  “In nightmares of men and beast, let it be known that this masakh has a name! Thy name is Janus!”

  Thunder crackled through the cloudless sky and a bolt of lightning fell from nothing. It surged through me not unpleasantly; a sensation of euphoria that made me stagger backwards and open my mouth to gasp.

  I could hear the sound of myself gasping.

  [NOTICE!]

  You have encountered a Night-Witch and have been named!

  Your name is now: Janus!

  Note: Names have power, and can only be given once in a monster’s lifetime. The power of a name is dependent on the power of the person granting the name multiplied by the inherent meaning and associations the name possesses.

  You have received bonuses and hidden skills as the wielder of the name: Janus.

  It is up to you to discover them.

  “What just –” I flinched. I could hear sounds. I could hear sounds originating from my mouth. Despite lacking tongue, lips or throat, I could hear my voice. A voice that emerged was soft and whispery, different from anything I remembered having before. It reminded me of the voice possessed by a soft-spoken don of a certain Mafia cartel.

  “Why do I sound like the Godfather?” was officially the first complete sentence I spoke in my second life.

  Janje tilted her head in confusion. “Who is this Godfather? I did not know you were acquainted with any gods, and I have certainly not known them to have fathers.”