Four hundred fifty-nine feet. That is the height of what the locals call the Basilica di San Giovanni. I watch the masses come to and fro, adoration, laughter, awe, and a myriad of other feelings painted on their faces. It is a grotesque spectacle. If I could, I would have felt sick.
"I did not take you for a religious person," I say neutrally. I have no opinion on religions. I simply cannot rationalize it, therefore judging seems like a moot point.
"Amusing how you have such preconceptions. You're the last person I expected to harbor any expectations toward anybody," my interlocutor says, his dark gaze an almost palpable weight bearing down on me.
My lips twitch. "I do not. That was merely pleasantry."
A dry chuckle answers me while the boy's hand adjusts the hat perched upon his head. The glare of the sun does not seem to bother him, though. It must have been more out of habit than anything else.
"So, what brings you here?" His voice is neither hostile nor gentle. That is what I like about him. Straight up business, no feelings attached. Was it like having a - what's it called? - one night stand? I ponder silently.
"Can I not visit a friend?" I answer simply, an eyebrow arched.
"You need to introduce them to me, then. Last time I checked, you were woefully alienated." A smirk stretches his lips. My lips curl upward, as they were often wont to do in his presence. My eyes rove over the carved figures perched on top of the basilica before they are inevitably drawn back to the presence which commands all attention.
"In your opinion, what is the greatest sin?" I see him narrow his eyes before a scoff answers my query.
"Obviously hubris. I fail to see your point." His impatience leaks through and I gorge on that like a thirsty man discovering an oasis.
"Patience is more precious than rubies." I rebut softly, my words neither condemning nor really angry.
"Is it not wisdom? If I gather something from our past interactions, it is that you are in need of something I can provide. Adding to that the point you just made about pride..." his eyes widen a fraction, then a sardonic smile replaces the smirk.
"Someone is challenging the throne? Let me guess, I was chosen as a champion to defend it?"
The bells ring loud and clear. It is annoying.
"Precisely." And what more was there to add? I never once underestimated his brilliant mind.
He does not question why he was chosen, does not complain, nor does he say anything superfluous. Grim resolve and acceptance settle like they had always been there.
A rip in the fabric of reality. The sun is smothered and time stutters to a halt, as if the great cosmic clock has run out of energy.
Eldritch creatures pour down from the amorphous nether, sliding through the gaps in reality. Their feelers, haphazardly distributed across their bulbous heads, twitch with excitement for the coming bloodletting. Hooters are not the most aesthetical beings, though they are perfectly harmless.
The boy does not look surprised. He simply watches everything unfolding with the eerie focus he seems to display in most dire situations.
Then, one by one, other, much more dangerous beings are summoned to this realm. They sneer and jeer in an unordered cacophony of noises which are so far removed from humanity it is a wonder the boy has not yet lost his sanity listening to them.
A massive creature pushes through the crowd, its mean of transportation foreign to the human mind as it crosses the distance separating the mass of demons and us.
Its mouth, a thin, badly drawn line, opens. It is an aperture, going from the midsection to the upper body.
"It has come, and so should it end. The one who desires the throne comes forth. Who shall humble them?"
"Reborn." The boy grounds out, his voice dark and dangerous.
"It is so. Who shall observe?"
"Tsunayoshi," I answer, respecting common etiquette.
"It is so. Who shall destroy?"
"I will." A voice thunders from amongst the assorted creatures. It is a mix between an owl's hoot and a galaxy spinning.
A cruel-looking blend of talon and tentacles grabs a Hooter and throws it Reborn's way with tremendous strength. The Hooter sails through the air, faster than a bullet.
Reborn ducks under the creature, his hand pushing on his hat to keep it attached to his head. The announcer is not so lucky, and the thrown projectile carves a hole the size of a basketball in its huge body. The blasphemous being collapses in a pile of terrifyingly alien matter.
I step back, since it is not my fight, loathe as I am to admit it. The challenger steps toward reborn; its avian feet imprinting deeply on the ground, leaving footprints on the concrete.
A poke on my arm brings my eyes to Nal'zhar, the eldritch broker. His head, a shifting tetrahedron of quickly morphing dimensions emits light at odd intervals. I don't know the exact mechanism, but the odd blinks translate into speech.
"Will you bet on either of them?" It tilts its head.
I shrug. "Sure. What's the wager?"
"The right to rule a sector, or a set of keys."
I hum thoughtfully while I watch Reborn dance around his prey, for the frustrated creature cannot be labeled as anything but one, while cogs shift in my head.
"I'll bet the key of power. On the human." It was like dropping a bomb.
The beings around us fall deathly silent at the proclamation. Then, a true cacophony of noise echoes. Everyone wants to bet on the challenger. Shouts and hoots and universes expanding and contracting, a contrasting blend of harmonics too perfect and too disturbing to belong to a reasonable hearing range.
I smile lightly. The higher the risk, the sweeter the reward.
Reborn's hand slips inside his jacket. He withdraws an item with alarming alacrity. There is a flash of white-cored, yellow-enveloped flames and with a resounding bang, the challenger topples over; a hole the size of a grapefruit perforating its nebulous head.
A crushing grip on my shoulder, followed by a harsh pull and I find myself face to face with Barkhan, the Usurper. They breathe harshly through the snake-like slits in their otherwise featureless face.
"You cheated. You did not mention the boy had flamessss."
The sibilant hiss, coming from a round, slightly off-axis orifice located on the front of its barrel-like torso, is positively furious.
"You did not ask?" I say, more of a question than a statement. What did they want from me?
Their face colors green and the slits dilate in their ire.
The hole lets out a series of barks, growls, hisses, hoots. I shake my head. What was it with Eldritch creatures and their uncanny speaking habits? Fixating a stern glare on him, my sky flames pour out, quickly smothering their storm ones and beating them into submission.
"You seem to be under the mistaken assumption you can do anything other than wail at your loss. Remove your hand, or I will remove it for you. I assure you, you won't like my method."
Like they had put their hand on a burning stove, Barkhan quickly retracts their appendage. They go away, whining pitifully. Serves them right. I do not like people accusing me unjustly.
My intuition tickles me, an itch under my skin I cannot scratch and alleviate.
The ground shakes and groans, the sky churns and drips like melting ice caps, revealing the amorphous nether beyond.
A single eye made of writhing tentacles and dead flesh and unearthly matter is staring down at us.
I smile wanly.
That would explain why I had such an itch.
If Reborn had to describe what he felt when everything went to shit, abject terror was not a word he would choose. His twelve years old mind knew, from the moment he had met Tsunayoshi, that he was treading on a fine line between certifiably insane and insanely brave. So, he had no choice but to accept the fact that his fraying mind would behold more and more feats of an alien, profoundly wrong nature.
However, the presence which manifested itself in a great somersault of decaying reality superseded what his wild imagination could conjure.
A primal, vicious feeling of dread seized his senses, ensnaring his tumultuous mind. Should he run? Hide? Fight?
Such chaotic thoughts battled before the impossibility of what his eyes conveyed to his brain. It's not your eyes that see, it's your brain, he told himself. Be as it may, how could his brain map out something which was beyond the realm of possible existence and more along the line of a badly designed horror novel?
His heart beat a furious tempo inside his chest, pumping him full of adrenaline. How could he fight something which even Tsunayoshi was deferring to, judging by his paling face and demure demeanor? Nonsensical, absurd and beyond idiotic, that was what it was.
His grip on his gun faltered for the briefest of instants and Reborn had the distant feeling that the unmentionable entity felt it.
"To what do I owe the visit of the Most Ancient and noble One?" Tsunayoshi said, his tone while not subservient, a great deal more tame than what Reborn was used to.
The giant, writhing mass of matter that made the eye of the entity seemed to swirl in a disordered manner, as if caught in an invisible maelstrom of conflicted origin. The planet tilted on its axis a few degrees, before righting itself. And suddenly, knowledge was infused into his head. More like forcefully drilled.
He nearly threw up the pain was so bad. Reborn grit his teeth to get a grip before he irrevocably lost it.
"King of the southern plane, you went above and beyond your duty. For that, a reward is in order."
Tsunayoshi bowed his head. "Words cannot express my gratitude."
More words poured inside his head and Reborn groaned at the unholy feeling.
"Indeed. I am particularly interested in the potential humans possess. Why don't you let me study the specimen who defended your honor? I will grant you any key you might wish for in exchange, even a personal one."
Reborn's heart skipped a beat. Then, the spike of fear gave way to a hurricane of rage. Him, a mere specimen? A lab rat under that cursed creature's disgusting eye? He tensed, his hand adjusting the hat on his head, casting shadows over his eyes.
"Absolutely not," Tsunayoshi said, simultaneously quelling his anger and worries.
The crowd, which had been mute and reverential until now gasped and muttered. Reborn watched silently; uncomprehendingly.
"You would defy my will?"
Tsunayoshi said nothing. He simply kept his head bowed.
"You are Old, true. But you are not Ancient. Very well. You seem to like humans enough to defy my direct command. Given the circumstances, you will be put on probation. A period of ten earthly years. As a human. Then, I shall meticulously inspect your human self."
There was wretched, perverse maliciousness in the tone. So much so, that Reborn did not know whether to fear for Tsunayoshi or be relieved that it chose to spare him ghastly torments.
He cursed his own cowardice.
Ten years, huh? His fists clenched to a painful point.
He would show it then.
This Eldritch, foolish Ancient One or whatever, would rue the day it had dared lay its putrid eye on Tsunayoshi and him.
That, he promised.
Hmmm. Where to begin? This began as a writing and stylistic exercise in order to flex my literary muscle, expand my writing palette, so to speak. Since my first story, I believe I have come far, but I still have a (very) long way to go. Now looking back at my old drafts, I am appalled at how bad what I have written up to now was.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this small piece, more should be coming soon.
Sincerely,
PurpleDraught