“Fight on, my brothers, the final battle has just begun!” Morlekai roared, even as the raging berserker once known as Malek gave a mournful welcoming howl.
He too sensed his master’s return.
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Thrust, parry, spin, counter. She who had once been Jess, the queen who had worn so many names reeking of blood, horror, even redemption, lost herself in the mad fury of combat. With inhuman grace she neatly sidestepped an insectoid hellspawn snapping forth with massive mandibles spewing acid and bile, whipping her blade in a vicious arc that sent her foe's grotesque skull soaring into the mad melee, even as fiery wings sliced the beast's cohorts neatly in twain with diamond hard feathers.
Endless images of battles fought against overwhelming odds flooded her awareness, to be assimilated near instantly as she allowed her instincts to take over, her body knowing just how and when to dodge, parry, and lash out once more, the mad dance of frenzied battle somehow making perfect sense, her tormented mind synergizing multiple styles of combat mastered over lifetimes as she sensed with a fierce dark glee that she was about to create her masterwork of violence and death.
It was as if she had woken up into some awful nightmare of madness and battle, having remembered every iota of knowledge savored in endless dreams of terror and blood.
Her foes, suffering grievous wounds from razor wings and deadly mithril alike, collapsed in hideously maimed heaps even as Jess screamed with fiery delight, feeling their power pour into her, headier than any wine. And even as the writhing masses of demonic hellspawn roared challenge, she spun away, her blade of brilliant mithril tearing effortlessly through all that stood in her path.
Whether chitinous claws, infernal blades, or twisted skulls perched upon armored necks, it made no difference. Whether they struck with infernal spellwebs she could see clear as day or dark cursed weapons forged in fire and pain, her mithril blade cut through them all with equal ease.
Hisses of fury turned to howls of pain and fear, the hellish minions unable to ward the avatar of their own destruction. Death played no favorites, claiming them one and all, no matter how fierce their hate, savage their fury, of fearsome their skill. Lords great and terrible howled in challenge or hissed in fear, as endless rows of foot soldiers fell before the terrible avenger within their midst.
Even when Jess spied the most terrible of Hell's generals, crushing their own troops in their mad haste to challenge their might against the foe that dared intrude upon their domain, their hulking bodies towering above their lesser kin, wielding massive war clubs that crushed dozens of foot soldiers with each wild swing, Jess did not hesitate to charge forth. Her terrible laughter eerily ringing across the vast plain of ash, sulfur and shattered rock, Jess reveled in the mad rush of battle, feet darting forth with inhuman speed as she dodged under the titanic blows of a fearsome minotaur bellowing its wrath, striving desperately to pound the girl who dared to challenge them, gouging great craters of shattered stone, shrapnel blasting through scores of screaming minions, yet utterly unable to land a single blow upon the wildly laughing girl even at that moment darting in for the kill.
Massive limbs covered in thick, soul-forged mail proved worthless at blunting the terrible edge of Jess’s deadly blade, her mithril sword and Valkyrie wings cleaving through the giant minotaur's ankles to terrible effect.
She reveled in his horrified bovine squeals echoing through the battlefield as her foe crashed to earth, scalding hot ichor shooting forth in massive gouts from the stumps of his legs, the crimson spray washing over her upraised wings as she leaped upon his massive writhing form, her mithril blade cutting a vast bloody gouge from crotch to sternum as she raced up his torso, lopping off the hands and fingers of her now panicked foe as he desperately struggled to fling her away, all to no avail as Jess plunged her blade deep into his eye socket before leaping free of his corpse, howling with ecstasy as her foe erupted in flame, shriveling to ash, flooding her with the power, madness, and horror of all the tormented souls trapped within that hideous form.
Laughing in darkest exultation sufficient to drown out even the endless shrieking howls of the wind, headless of the horrific stench of sulfur, ash, shriven souls, and fallen hellions, she took advantage of the ensuing panic and awe, crashing into the stunned legions who had witnessed her so effortlessly dispatch one of their most fearsome champions.
She danced past all resistance in perfect rhythm to the song of blood and death she embraced, seizing the Vor, tearing into her foes with an inhuman frenzy as she sunk ever deeper into battle madness. Underneath the terrible bloodlust guiding her to unspeakable heights of murder and mayhem, she was nonetheless guided by single-minded purpose; heading towards the howls of he whom she loved with all her heart, her direction straight and true. Yet those foes who thought themselves masters of the battlefield, thinking to outflank her unawares, soon realized to their utter folly how very well she was guarded, her dread familiar slipping in and out of the shadows to eviscerate foes from angles unseen, leaving gurgling monstrosities writhing in his wake before jumping once more into unfathomable darkness, ever ready to send yet more demons crumpling in mortal agony as unseen claws effortlessly tore through jugular and spine, a familiar of darkest shadow promising death to any who dared approach his mistress from behind.
"Malek, we come!" Jess roared in the split second she had before needs must spin and turn, shifting tactics the instant she felt her foes had massed to strike in tandem, the darkest wizards and vilest generals united in their aim to bring her down with one terrible assault. Her laughter was madness as she revealed the now uncovered mirror of truth, wielded as the buckler it truly was, glimmering so brilliantly in this hellish realm. Hideous screams and instant pandemonium ensued as scores of foot soldiers and ancient lords of Hell alike were caught flatfooted, eyes locking upon the terrible truths of that mirror, shrieking their last as they howled into oblivion, their very souls rupturing under the weight of their own corruption, even as Jess’s terrible mithril blade effortlessly cleaved through all opponents who dodged the power of her mirror, still too slow to counter her killing blade.
Time itself seemed to bleed as she lost herself in the glorious movements of that most ancient of dances, her blade the most terrible of instruments, and she the maestro playing the one tune she knew so well. The music of oblivion, the screeches of her dying foes, her blade painting broad strokes of crimson and bile, covering the canvas of the battlefield in blood and death.
There was not one thrust that she could not parry and counter with such blinding speed that her foe was dead even before his blade was sent flying, not one void or feint that outfoxed her as blade and buckler entangled their weapons, her hungry sword thrusting deep to taste the sweetness of their entrails before pulling out with a terrible inhuman grace, sending their bodies spinning free as their intestines ruptured in a great gory display of triumph, coating her and all her vile enemies, now gazing at the laughing, mad-eyed Valkyrie within their midst with a feeling as alien to them as love itself. Horror.
Horror they felt beneath their bellows and bluster even as the terrible avenging angel tore through their numbers with a frenzied abandon that was pure madness, an apparition of blood and death so terrible, so reminiscent of their own darkest fears, the promise of Oblivion itself, such that the army entire gave ground before her, a moment's pause.
But not, it turned out, for the sake of reverence or fear. Only to taunt. One final blow, Jess somehow sensed, before they would surge forth once more for her lifeblood.
Dread laughter sickening in its gleeful madness echoed across the unending battlefield Jess found herself upon. Not her own. She grimaced and snarled, feeling a sudden chill, recognizing at once the source of that terrible sound, even as her sword lashed out once more, consuming yet another furiously struggling demon's power, her foe crumbling to ash moments later. One of the countless scores who had suffered that very fate since the moment she had raised her blade in challenge against the ancient queen wh
o had dared to trap her friends deep in the bowels of the Abyss.
The being known as Midnight growled low in his throat, even as his true form began to ooze out of every crack and shadow. Living darkness, the terrible cold blackness between stars unseen in the bloodred skies above. His rumble echoed through endless dark valleys and chasms, any number of foul hellions shrieking in strange silence as they dissolved in that terrible blackness.
“Lilith.”
Jess hissed and nodded. They both recognized that mad, terrible laughter. Lilith. Reviled queen of Hell and seductress responsible for dooming an endless number of once virtuous souls. The ultimate temptress, perpetrator of vile deeds beyond count, her crowning act of shame the screams of the dying angel writhing in her arms at that very moment.
The thing she had once called mother.
Yet even as Jess's eyes blazed with inhuman hate for the vile monster that had caused such misery, her challenge was met with mocking laughter by the Fallen Queen even now gazing down at her daughter with such amusement, surveying the terrible battlefield upon an unreachable pedestal floating high above, protected by a silvery mist as if she spied upon the battlefield entire from an unthinkable distance, her presence but a projection, safe within another realm entirely.
"My dear, dear beloved Jezabelle!" Lilith mockingly crooned. "Come home to Mother at last." The words echoed perfectly through the vast and broken plain as Lilith shrieked with mad laughter even as Jess roared with a fury so terrible, her eyes blazing with a hate so fierce, that score of those pustulent demons chortling and hooting before Jess, savouring Lilith's taunts, froze rock still, toppling over to shatter like stone in truth.
That boy. A revelation and a terror to realize that she recognized that child, even as he lay in Lilith's clutches, writhing in unthinkable agony. His hauntingly beautiful features blessed with an innocence that resonated through her. It was a face she knew with every fiber of her soul.
David. Poor, gentle David. A friend and confidant suddenly remembered, a soothing presence whenever her childhoods were stricken with grief, despair, and hardship, as was the lot of all mortal souls, at one turning or another of the great wheel of fate. A gentle face that had somehow always been there for her, to soothe and comfort her, whenever the burdens of her lives became too much to bear as well. Counseling her away from vilest darkness, as if determined to guide her away from the terrible folly that was Lilith's own.
His tender gaze always filled her with such solace when she woke once more in the most sacred of all gardens, hearing the far off laughter and play of children awaiting their own rebirths, David always there to comfort her as she shook with the intensity of lives often violently lived, gently easing her through the most visceral of memories, both bitter and sweet.
They would sit together then, his gaze one of infinite tenderness as she regaled him with the humble tales of her last grand adventure, she sweetly smiling with the joy of a woman who had lived long and well; savored healthy, happy children, the laughter of grandbabies, a man who had always loved her with all his heart.
And sometimes she had actually felt a fierce jolt of shame as she told her tale, gazing upon those gentle eyes. Awakening once more as but an innocent girl within the garden, shaken by recollections of horror and madness. She, a warrior queen forging an empire of blood and steel, her sweet nature twisted into cruel shapes by hatred and hurt, betrayal and bitterness, all awakening within her the need for savage ruthlessness, for utter control. So nothing could hurt her ever again. And those empires she forged with the mightiest of armies, and with Midnight's help the most efficient of governments, often lasted many generations after their founder’s passing, shaping the fate of continents for centuries to come.
And always David's eyes were gentle. Forgiving. No matter how great the burden of her heart, no matter how bitterly she regretted the sins of lives cruelly lived, her beloved David was always there to console her, to bring peace to her tormented soul. A tender stroke of her cheek, sweet words of counsel, and all was well once more.
It was thanks to David that at the end of each journey, no matter a life lived bitterly or well, she knew she would find welcome, graced by a gentle angel always willing to sooth painful regrets, her closely held shames. And as the endless spring flowed within her garden, old friends awakening and rejoining her in games and adventures, telling the stories of their lives, bitter and sweet, before passing quietly on to their next existence upon the great wheel of life, it would be David, her ever present friend and ally, reminding her of the wonders of mortal existence once more, all its bittersweet joy and folly, who would gently encourage her to embrace the great dream once again.
David, whose soothing words always put her at ease, coaxing her to slip into slumber beneath the shade of the sacred tree at the heart of her garden, to curl up under its gently rustling branches, to peacefully fade away, so her world would be renewed once more. A little girl with golden locks and rosebud lips slumbering by the roots of the great tree of life, her beloved cat and loyal hound always resting by her side.
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Jess heard the crack of another rib. A child's horse cry, Lilith's cruel laughter, and the plain entire seemed to vibrate with the fury Jess felt roaring inside her, even as she screamed her defiance and charged forward, her blade a whip of light moving at hideous speeds nothing could hope to counter. A scythe of death mowing the fields of the Fallen as she madly rushed forward, feeling a moment’s fierce exultation when she heard the howl of her beloved Hound, deep and mournful as his voice had become.
She howled in turn as she raced toward her beloved Malek's side, only to stagger against the writhing hordes of shrieking demons once more falling upon her in endless waves. But she would not be deterred, no matter that she faced all the legions of Hell. Their blades and claws crashed futilely against a glowing buckler that seared them with darkest secrets revealed, claws and infernal weapons shattering against wings hard as steel, feathers sharp as death. Wings of war tearing through her enemies in perfect concert to her mithril sword shimmering with all the mad powers of the Void as she danced and spun, a living weapon cleaving a trail of utter destruction as she ruthlessly dispatched scores of the nightmare monstrosities that dared stand before her.
Fruitless had been their attempts to best her with magic, the dark abyssal spellwebs she cleaved through with the ease of a bull charging through morning webs of dew; with force of arms as well she was their master, a blazing Valkyrie without peer.
Jess tore through the currents of that vast sea of the Fallen, comprised of such horrors as to send entire armies of mundus fleeing the field of battle in terror, all of them now struggling to escape the furious onslaught of the creature within their midst who glowed with a terrible light so similar to the blazing corona that had damned the Fallen to Hell eons ago, even as Midnight effortlessly leaped across shadowy dimensions, there and not there at once, appearing but darkest shadow himself as his vicious silver claws struck out from inky pools of blackness, cruelly disemboweling foes to either side of his avenging angel , no demon able to flank Jess without collapsing into a screaming pile of lacerated flesh, consumed by the ancient terror that fought so ruthlessly by his savior's side.
The flow of time was almost without meaning as Valkyrie and Midnight faced and fought the very armies of Hell. They lived only in the moment, mind and body working in perfect unison as they used their terrible instruments of mithril and shadow to paint a masterwork of crimson death and blackest destruction upon the canvas of Hell's legions. And then at last, their immediate foes routed, they broke through to behold a plain littered with shattered and broken bodies, most desiccated, as if drained of every last drop of blood and bile.
And soaring above the battlefield was Lilith, gazing down at Jess's terrible struggle, laughing with darkest delight at the spectacle of death and fury below as she held David's mangled body before her, crooning viciously as she made the poor boys scream yet again, tearing into the open wound upon his c
hest.
Jess howled with frustration even as she felt the ground begin to crack and buckle, by some ancient instinct forcing her will upon the plain, preventing the stones beneath their own feet from shaking even as smoke and brimstone shot up from massive rents in the very ground in all directions, rents in the pitted stone quickly becoming massive canyons plunging deep into the dying heart of that world. Within moments, the corpse-strewn field of battle was cut off and isolated, the vast howling armies of Hell shrieking, gibbering, and roaring across the canyons on all sides.
Lilith's mad, knowing gaze made it clear that this had all been deliberate. A brilliantly constructed ploy to pull Jess and her most powerful allies out of the comfortable bosom of mundus and deep into the heart of Lilith's own seat of power.
All conceived by a commander who cared not how many of her troops fell to her cause.
The vile temptress merely laughed and waved a mocking farewell, the shimmering portal through which Lilith had so indulged herself gazing at their terrible struggle disappearing as if it had never been. She had never really been there in the first place, of course, and so was content to snap shut her trap and to let them stew, Jess's final glimpse being a decadent smile as the horrid succubus slowly drew the life essence from the angel trapped within her clutches.
Jess howled in furious outrage, even as her gaze caught sight of something that lifted the burden of despair. And for one terrible, beautiful moment Jess was able to forget about the madly laughing queen of Hell gloating in her own pocket realm above them all.
Gods of Shadow and Flame Page 62