“A deity clad in mortal raiment,” came the deep, sepulchral voice of the newcomer. It was a cold voice, echoing from around the tent, and reminded one of long-used vaults of the dusty, bony dead.
Hatu merely gave a slight bow. There was no way he was going to reply. He would let the demon speak. Their loquacious nature always came out when faced with silence from one they couldn’t attack immediately.
“Not of this world, I sense. Nor of mine. We are at a quandary, great dark one. Your power is weakened, and yet I perceive that the Void would be my fate if I test your strength. But my geas bound me to punish and kill whoever and whatever tried to look in the box,” said the demon at length. The tone was resigned.
“There’s no box anymore, is there?” Hatu said in a casual tone. Nor of mine?
“Indeed. But the geas is still there. Not to those objects before you, that is obvious. Binding me to them would be my destruction,” replied the demon.
Hatu smiled inwardly. An opening for discussion, he noted. Demons loved to negotiate. He just needed to play to the being’s desires.
“So, it has come to these choices. Your attack me due to your geas, to your eternal regret. Or…” Hatu left the sentence intentionally hanging.
“Or what, Great One?” asked the demon immediately. Hatu could sense the eagerness of the beast and could almost see the emphasis on the honorific.
Like a drowning man grasping at straws, mused the dark deity with amusement.
“What do I get if I break the magical ties which bind you to that of garbage?” asked Hatu. “You know I could just leave, and you can have an eternity guarding that pile of broken wood and iron. At least you’ll have this tent.”
The exiled deity half-expected the demon to howl his dismay or manifest a destructive display to express its outrage. Surprisingly, the devil did neither.
“What do you want?” came the query. It was the question Hatu wanted.
3
A Demon to Command
“You know who I am, Hatu.
You do deny my existence, but here I am,”
came the reply.
“Follow me, obey my will, now and forever,” said Hatu casually. “Simple enough?”
The demon stared at him. Hatu knew what was happening behind those ethereal eyes – the demon was thinking about a way out in the future. But unfortunately for this particular creature of evil, he was dealing with Hatu. Mayhap a mortal in form, with vague memories about his origins, but still a formidable font of magical knowledge. For demons, the simpler the instruction, the better.
“Forever is a long time, Great One,” said the demon slowly. It knew what was being asked of it.
The exile inwardly smiled. Creatures like the one before him had their own personalities, even as the streak of wickedness ran through every one of their kind. Right now, he didn’t have an idea of how the demon thought and acted. The best solution for such dilemmas was to totally crush any illusion of free will and subjugate the mind of such entities. It had served him well before, and Hatu saw no reason to think that it wouldn’t work in this world.
“Indeed, it is, but so is an eternity in a tent guarding a few broken pieces of wood and iron,” emphasized the exile unconcernedly. He needed a strong minion. Hatu keenly was aware of that, but the key to keeping the formidable ones was to make them believe you really don’t need them. That you’re actually doing them a favor.
“Then I agree,” the malevolent being slowly whispered in a halting manner. It sounded like the words were being forcibly being pulled from its mind. In a sense, they were.
“Agree by what powers?” replied Hatu casually, intentionally looking around the camp, ignoring the physical presence of the creature.
“By all the Powers that maketh me and unmaketh me, I call and pray to this oath they bear witness, I agree to be this mortal’s slave now and forever,” declared the spirit somberly. It was clear that the creature had quickly seen it had no other option. A point in its favor, thought Hatu. But it also meant the demon wasn’t lacking in intelligence and common sense.
As it spoke, the demon’s voice took on a sepulchral and dark tone. The voice itself had a magic of its own and impressed upon Hatu’s mind scenes of vast fiery caverns, deep pits echoing with the suffering of souls, and a colossal, malignant cloud surrounding the pair. He didn’t care one bit. Hatu had been to worse places.
The former deity could feel the gathering power called by the demon. It was not an entity or a deity, but part of the magic of the world in which the pair had found themselves to be residents. It was dark, evil, and malevolent. Even if the monster came from another reality, this world’s energy would bind him to his oath. Hatu wasn’t concerned. There was always a balance to the light anywhere in the infinite dimensions. But he smiled at the wording of the magical vow.
“Change mortal to being; semantics won’t work with me,” he informed the creature sternly. It was in the demon’s nature to try to find an escape clause in its oath. Hatu expected it, but it didn’t mean he’d take the transgression lightly. Discipline does start at the beginning. Nor would it do if the master in the relationship appeared unwary or a mite stupid.
The demon repeated the oath, this time to Hatu’s liking. Though this time, it was like hearing the demon’s entire set of teeth, or fangs, being forcibly pulled out, one by one.
Excellent, thought Hatu. If this one thinks it’s easy being my slave, then a rude awakening in the future awaits.
“Now to business,” began Hatu.
“My chains, Master,” came the reminder.
Hatu grinned. He did forget about that part, thinking that the etheric bonds would fall off due to the adoption of a new loyalty. It appeared the mage or wizard who chained the demon knew more than a bit of the lore.
But as far as Hatu was concerned, whoever it was, he or she was a moron. A counter-spell against a new oath should have been included. He could already feel that the bonds around the demon had been significantly weakened by the shift in allegiance. Yet the one bound couldn’t break them, even if the chains were vulnerably fragile as the purest gold. It was an inherent trait of a geas, no matter how minor. The breaking of the magical chain must come from an outside force.
Since the entity bound was stupid or careless enough to be the subject of such a spell, reflected Hatu as another burst of energy sprang from him, tearing apart what remained of the binding enchantment. Though in the instance of the demon before him, given what the exile had seen, it must have been inexcusable recklessness. Still, he wasn’t interested in the details of the creature’s capture and enslavement.
“Free!” shouted the demon as it disappeared.
Free indeed. From one slavery to another, laughed the exile silently.
All around the deserted camp, a strong gust of wind rushed through the tents, blowing some down. Corpses were animated and then suddenly flopped to the ground like marionettes whose strings have been cut. Objects levitated and just as quickly fell into the ground. A whirlwind appeared above the campsite and then became a huge ball of gaseous flame.
The former deity ignored the show, his attention on the mouth of the waiting cave. His eyes also kept returning to the pieces of the arcane blade lying on the floor. Finally, he walked over and picked them up without hesitation. They vanished as soon as he held them, gone to a mystical vault he alone could access. Nothing dangerous would happen to him, that Hatu was sure of. He was ruin personified, not evil incarnate or an agent of malevolence.
His affinity was of chaos, and chaos didn’t give a shit about good or evil, light or darkness. At the end of all things, one was left with order and chaos. All other inclinations were but aspects of the two universal forces. Yet in the scheme of the ultimate reality, Hatu would like to believe he ranked higher on the pecking order set by the universe. Much higher than mere evil or good, though he had his own suspicions about those two so-called truths. Still, the toy he just acquired would serve him well, if he was able to bring the pieces all back tog
ether. He looked up to the sky.
“Finished playing?” he asked.
“Yes, Master. My thanks for the opportunity to explore. Ah, to be free to move in the open again. To be able to touch flesh and feel the cleansing fire. I’ve missed all that and more,” replied the creature with evident relief. It was now before Hatu, but the lower half of its body remained an amorphous, swirling dark mist. The upper portion had adopted the form of a middle-aged, bearded man, dressed in vibrant red velvet and a rimless cap to match, all embroidered in gold trim.
“I’d ask for your name, but that would be superfluous,” said Hatu. “I’ll give you one when I have something in mind.”
“You are… different, Master,” the demon replied. “My name is usually the first thing asked of me.”
“Why should I? I could change it anytime I wish, and consign your old name to oblivion,” answered Hatu.
“You could do that, Great One?” asked the shocked monster.
“I said I could, didn’t I? You’re in a different league now, demon. Be sure you know how to play. Otherwise, you’ll quickly be in the void,” chastised his Master.
Hatu meant what he said and had not the time nor the patience to shepherd anybody, especially a demon, even a Greater One, through the tumultuous future he wanted and expected. He knew he was being impatient, but there was a huge serving of revenge to serve.
“Now, what about that cave?” asked Hatu.
The malevolent being glanced at the cave and then at him, fear etched in its human face.
“Alas, I can’t answer, Master. Even a gentle touch of my energy against the unseen barrier which guards the entrance brings untold agony to my entire being.”
***
“Really? Fascinating,” was the only reply the demon got from Hatu. The former deity started walking toward the cave.
“How about me, Master?” asked the demon, its sycophantic voice echoing through the deserted camp.
“Oh, that. Make sure those bandits or whatever they were don’t survive. The undead I created won’t be able to maintain their existence on this plane any longer. Once that happens, that dark warrior would only be one hunter chasing after a number of survivors,” instructed Hatu unconcernedly. “Come back after an hour and guard this encampment.”
The demon bowed and then vanished. Hatu had no doubt the creature would tremendously enjoy the task. It would probably be very imaginative in how it accomplished its mission, seeing it had been deprived of such perverse and malevolent pleasures for a very long time. But the former deity wasn’t interested in such games. The cave now drew his interest.
Reaching the mouth of the fissure, he stood silently before the thin barrier which had hurt the demon. It wasn’t visible to an ordinary mortal. But Hatu was no ordinary human. The eldritch wall blocking the way was visible to him. A minuscule amount of magical energy had seen to that necessity. He examined the arcane enchantment and found no reaction to his presence. It was of a positive alignment, that was evident, and formidable energy powered its existence.
He smiled to himself. Evil and good had nothing to do with the primordial alignments of order and chaos. Indeed, some of the wickedest mortals he had the displeasure to meet and then send to whatever hell awaited them were agents of order. For some reason, a lot of malevolent mages and other depraved humans preferred to view or want the world to be structured in a systematic fashion. According to their twisted vision, of course.
Hatu touched the barrier and found it didn’t hurt him. His thrust finger passed through the thin, magical film without incident. He walked forward without hesitation and found himself in a lit passageway leading down into the depths.
The illumination meant he was expected. The last time he had seen the cave with mortals in it was when the two unlamented mages emerged. From what he could recall, the mouth of the cavern and what he could see of its interior were as dark as an imp’s backside. And at that time, there wasn’t any indication that a magical barrier was present.
Something or someone had awakened. Or took note of his presence. Either way, Hatu would find the arcane core of the cavern’s mystery. Then he stopped to consider his actions. It was a reflex borne out of the remnants of the thinking of a powerful, magical consciousness. Once upon a time, he was one such entity, but that was a distant memory ago. Now he was but mortal. Hatu grinned when he realized he didn’t care either way. He followed the narrow path downward.
It took some time before he found himself at the bottom of the path. Before him was a massive mass of rock, yet it appeared transparent. He could see a small stone shrine of some sort past the basalt cave wall. Hatu examined what he could see. A vast hollow lit by a blue radiance awaited him. Yet the light didn’t come from the shrine. It originated from a point high above it. But a different energy was also present. It was similar to what he sensed from the blade shards and emanated from the small temple.
A deity, the observation came to his mind. The first I have seen on this world, and it has a piece or pieces of the blade I seek.
Hatu glanced at the magical illusion before him, a solid wall of cave rock and yet made transparent to reveal to him what was hidden behind. It was obviously an invitation, and he wasn’t about to say no. He moved forward through the solid rock face, and after several steps, emerged in the hollow.
Hatu stood where he was. Something in him told him to wait. Whether it was a long-forgotten memory from his past, or a mortal’s sense of survival, he really couldn’t tell. But wait, he did. He was invited, after all.
***
“Comes the Lord of Ruin of another world,” a voice echoed through the cave. It was female, and though its tone was casual, a dangerous undercurrent accompanied it. Hatu looked up to the blazing sphere he could observe floating above the shrine. Now near the source of the power he sought, he could sense its incredibly formidable might even as the wielder clearly tried to dampen the aura she exuded.
Behind the enchantment holding back the full force of her strength, Hatu could catch glimpses of a gigantic magical storm just waiting to be unleashed. Deep inside him, with all those repressed memories, he instinctively knew he had never seen the likes of such magical power. A sliver of fear started inching its way up his spine.
“You have me at a disadvantage, gracious host. But I am now but a mortal. You must be mistaken,” replied Hatu, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could. But the dread had reached his tongue, and his words quivered as they were spoken.
“You wish to be the Lord of Ruin of this world, Hatu?” came a question. The speaker decidedly disregarded what he had asked and knew who he was.
“I am but a mortal now. If I am going to be Ruin again, it would only be to repay treachery and deceit,” Hatu answered, throwing away all pretense. He realized the entity before him was too powerful and knew more than he would have liked.
“Your world doesn’t need you right now, Hatu. Order and chaos are in equilibrium in your reality. You were the unwanted weight on the scale which would have tipped that balance,” came the unexpected remark.
It shocked Hatu. He was not needed? Baggage? Chaos was not served by his presence? Then ominous fear grabbed his spirit and held it in a cruelly tight embrace when he realized what kind of entity would say those words to him. Suddenly, all his memory came back, and he staggered from the impact of the onrushing images flooding his brain. Hatu found himself struggling to breathe.
“Who are you?” he managed to ask sluggishly, as his vision swam and the exile desperately tried to pump air into his mortal lungs.
A faint laugh rang through the chamber.
“You know who I am, Hatu. You do deny my presence, but here I am,” came the mocking reply.
The one-time dark deity finally recovered some of his composure. Yet the ancient knowledge in his mind broke down the walls of incredulity. Only one being in the entire universe could speak of the primordial entities of Order and Chaos in such a manner.
“I beg your forgiveness for my
ignorance and impertinence, Lady Fate,” said Hatu meekly as he immediately kneeled on the rocky floor of the cave and just as quickly bowed his head.
“You do remember your manners, godling,” replied the entity. “But your presence on this world again threatens the balance. And gnats as minions? How far have the mighty fallen.”
Hatu kept his silence and suffered the insult. The being before him wielded incomprehensible power and he suspected that his own deity, Chaos, bowed its head to it. Fate did trump everything. Everything in his mind now told him the next few minutes would determine his lot. All the ancient knowledge he now had at his fingertips had one common thread about the being before him – powerful beyond comprehension and infinitely capricious. To be called before her was a dangerous moment, that he knew. Lady Fate only appeared to pass judgment on powerful deities and spirits capable of influencing their own worlds and realities. In a sense, he was flattered, but now knew what real fear was like.
“Now what to do with you? This world does totter on the brink of darkness, but the balance still exists. A quandary, one would say.”
The kneeling mortal didn’t respond or even raise his head. His mind raced through everything which had happened to him. It now dawned on Hatu that everything was orchestrated, down to the betrayals of erstwhile friends. And there was nothing he could do about it, now or even in the future. What Hatu dreamed of and desired didn’t matter anymore. He was but an insignificant speck in a gigantic canvas being painted by Fate.
“But I have matters to attend to, and this world is but one of many. Still, it needs watching, and I require someone to do that for me,” said Lady Fate in a calmer manner.
Hatu still didn’t say anything. He was afraid that he’d say the wrong thing. The consequences of such an error would be beyond what he could imagine. The now mortal being doubted if he’d merely be sent to the Void where the energies of dead deities waited.
“Darkness rears its ugly head in this reality, and you know I can’t tolerate the dominance of that side of the Veil. Everything must be in balance for Fate to judge fairly, and a just punishment would come even if millennia had passed. Deities and mortals would never understand the workings of the tapestry where they form part of the design,” mused the entity.
My Name is Ruin Page 3