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Part XII
Morning of Primoris, Second Day of Autumnmoon
Bram emerged from the cave of fog into a valley filled with lush and verdant greenery. By some kind of natural miracle, the warm humid air from the underground heat source provided an environment for the flora to thrive, even at the higher mountain elevations. He stared in wonder at the tropical paradise filled with hanging vines, opulent flowers, and abundant vegetation. Looking down, he saw a soft and spongy moss blanket the ground, while above him he saw a thick imponderable fog hide the treetops.
He and Kane followed a path through the jungle with weapons drawn. Along the way, they noticed the twitching of branches and rustling of leaves as birds and fauna moved along their periphery. Snakes slithered across their path, and webs hung across trees with kitten-sized spiders waiting patiently in the center. Small and furry wildlife jumped between the foliage, only to be swallowed by unseen predators.
"Unbelievable," Bram remarked, feeling awe-struck. "I've heard the stories, but I never imagined it would be like this."
"You can see how secluded this place is," Kane explained. "It's clear that the tribesmen have isolated themselves from the rest of the continent. It's no wonder they've grown so hostile."
Bram stared at his friend in confusion. "I don't know why they would. This is a paradise. I can't imagine anyone here would want to be disturbed, much less provoke an attack."
"They've seen our expansion since the end of the War," Kane argued. "Ur is our nearest neighbor, and they're reacting to our success. Just be ready."
Bram failed to picture a village filled with envious onlookers as he took in the majestic landscape. He and Kane marched along the path until they came across a gently flowing stream. Bram tasted the water and found it clean and refreshing. Further downstream, the jungle opened to an outcropping overlooking a vast clearing. In its center was a primitive village, built from tents and wooden structures. The stream's water flowed in a cascading arc down to a pristine pool at the base.
With their bodies pressed against the ground, they peered over the edge of a precipice to get a view of the villagers. They were fair-skinned men and women, each with white flowing hair—traits that seemed to be the result of generations living in indirect sunlight. Bram brought his hand to his own argent colored strands, wondering if he might share a common ancestry. However, his hair had more volume and bulk, and his skin tone was not as pale.
He watched the tribesmen as they went about their daily lives. Some carried jugs filled with water collected from the stream. Others tanned hides of jungle animals to be used for clothes or housing. Bram saw children playing in the water, smiling and ignorant of the two warriors in hiding above them.
The sight burned in his mind as he thought about his mission, and what he had been sent to do. His stomach clenched, and bile rose in his throat. He backed away from the rock ledge, feeling nauseous.
"Bram, what's wrong?" Kane asked.
The knight clutched his pounding head. "I'm fine," he growled.
"No, you're not," the Templar insisted. "Tell me what's bothering you."
"Don't you see?" Bram snarled between clenched teeth. "There are children down there! We can't go through with this—"
"Pull yourself together, Bram!" Kane hissed back, scowling. "We have a job to do!"
Bram shook his head. "No, this mission is twisted and wrong!" Something toiled inside his gut—a feeling of guilt and anxiety that festered like an inflamed sore. "The villagers down there are innocent. They've done nothing to us!"
Kane stared him down. "You're forgetting your duty."
Anger and frustration bore at Bram's insides, burning and aching at the pit of his stomach. "This isn't a battlefield, damn it! And those aren't enemy soldiers down there! They're children, for Gaia's sake!"
Bram removed the box from his pack, the one with which he was tasked to assassinate the village chief. "Have you thought what might happen if this were to cause harm to others around it?" he challenged. "How could you live with yourself if innocents died because of us?"
Kane sat back, seemingly at a loss for words. He scoffed under his breath. "He said you'd be defiant—"
"What?" Bram demanded, hearing what Kane had meant to keep to himself. "Who said this? King Richard?"
"Never mind that—listen to me! You're being given a second chance. It's a simple task, and you won't even need to get your hands dirty! Just find the chief and open the box!"
Bram rose to his feet and, like a tiger, pounced on Kane. He caught the Templar off guard, and the two went rolling into the stream. Bram ended up on top, and with his gauntleted elbow, firmly pinned his friend to the mud. Kane opened his eyes wide in disbelief, as cold running water washed over his head.
"What are you not telling me?" the Gnostic Knight demanded, shaking his friend with all his fury. The festering rage in his gut was ready to burst. "I swear … if you've been colluding behind my back—"
Kane's words gurgled in between gasps of air. "Let … me … go!"
Bram loosened his grip enough for Kane to roll out of his grasp. On all fours, The Templar coughed several times. "Bloody fool!" he spat, spraying tiny droplets in Bram's face. He looked angry and hurt. "What in Gaia's name has gotten into you?"
"I want the truth!" Bram pleaded, leaning back into the running water. The coldness cooled his anger, but only for a moment.
"Isn't it enough that I explain it all later, when we complete the mission?"
"No! You'll tell me now," Bram demanded. "This mission makes no sense, and you know it!"
Kane scowled and turned away from Bram's gaze, but Bram pressed on. He stared Kane down until his friend relented.
"Fine, I'll tell you …."
Bram braced for the truth, but before Kane uttered a word, the box twitched violently. Bram rolled around to grab it, but the metal was so hot it nearly burned his hand through his metal gauntlet. He pulled away, cursing. Smoke poured from its seams.
Kane's eyes went wide in alarm. He pushed Bram to the side with renewed might. "The box!" he exclaimed. "It's not supposed to activate, yet!"
"What in the Burning Pits is this thing, Kane?"
Without responding, the Templar grabbed the box with his bare hand, grinding his teeth in pain. His flesh sizzled and a pungent odor filled the air. With all his might, he threw the box over the precipice to the village below. Bram watched, dumbfounded. Even before the box hit the ground, Kane doused his injured hand in the stream's running water. Thin tendrils of red washed downstream. By the time he removed it, it was swollen and blistered.
Baffled by what he beheld, Bram scrambled to the ledge to see what had become of the box. He never made it very far, before Kane tackled him to the ground. "Stay down, you fool!" Bram barely heard the warning through the blood that pumped in his ears.
From his prone position, he had a clear view of the box as it lay on a bed of grass at the edge of the village. It wrenched and heaved, and the top opened wide. An unholy reddish glow emanated from it. Villagers stopped and stared, curious at the strange occurrence. The reddish light expanded, setting the nearby brush ablaze. The tribesmen grabbed their children and ran for help. Men in woolen robes arrived from a nearby tent, apparently trained wizards. Moving their arms in the intricate art of magic, they sent spells of ice to chill the spreading conflagration.
At first, they calmed the raging blaze, but their spell-casting was interrupted when the box emitted a supernatural shriek that echoed throughout the valley. The men and women held their ears as dark fluid oozed from the box's opening. It gathered along the ground, and coalesced into serpent-like creatures with rough black skin and flames coming from their eyes and nose. They were among the most repugnant spawn that Bram had ever seen. The Conjurions ran at the sight of them, but the box kept on forming more. The creatures slithered into the village, setting fire to anything they touched.
It was pandemonium, and Bram was the fool responsible. He had brought the spawn to Ur—not the other way around. Whatever powers the sunstones held, they were evil to the core, and the man he trusted most had lied to him the whole time! The mission was a farce, and though he should have known better, Kane had convinced him otherwise. The pustule of red hot anger lingering in his gut finally burst, spreading septic levels of rage and fury throughout his body. He was filled with such hurt and sadness that he wanted to scream it for all the world to hear.
An explosion caught his attention. He forced himself to his feet, wanting to join and help the villagers, but Kane grabbed him by the arm. He tried to break free, but the Templar held him tightly.
"No, Bram—look!" Kane pointed with his red and blistered hand.
Bram turned his head to the skyline, where a string of bluish lights appeared. They circled overhead in what appeared to be a magical portal in the sky. Bram shrank back from the ledge as a new breed of creature jumped out.
"Dear Goddess … the legends are true!" The words died on his lips as he saw with his own eyes. The creatures coming from the portal were not spawn. They were from the old tales that had been told as a child. He remembered being mesmerized by the fables of legendary creatures that traveled from their hidden dimension to fight on the side of man.
From the ledge overlooking the burning village, he recognized Charis the Graceful Mistress. She looked almost human, but was several times larger, with blue-colored skin. From her wand came spells that froze the demon spawn in solid blocks of ice. Akhana the Thoughtful Soul was of similar size, with a white beard that ran the length of his body. Stag antlers jutted from his forehead, and he held a mighty staff that called down lightning from the heavens. Finally, Sige the Silent Protector with his long eel-like body and rainbow-colored scales, flew through the air with a massive maw large enough to swallow the spawn whole. The creatures fought valiantly, but the spawn outnumbered them, and the box continued to produce more with each passing moment.
Bram had brought a plague that was quickly destroying everything in its path. Kane might have brought him to the valley, but he had let it happen. It was his fault! The houses of the village burned, along with the people inside. A horrible lump formed in his throat as he imagined the farmhouse where his foster parents lived in Providence, the moment when the Kitezhian raiders set it on fire. He heard their screams, and he reached his breaking point. He turned to the Templar with eyes that were filled with fiery vengeance. And yet, the man wore a sickeningly triumphant smile.
"You son of a bitch!" Bram spat, anger churning and boiling deep inside of him. "You knew all along, didn't you? This was never about killing a village chief, but of destroying the entire village—wasn't it!"
The Templar faced him defiantly. "It pained me to lie to you, but my orders were absolute. They wanted to gain your loyalty. Killing the chief was the easy part, but accepting the loss of the entire village was supposed to seal your commitment."
Bram no longer heard Kane's voice. The blood beat behind his ears, and filled his vision with a red haze. What happened to the humanity? Had the world gone mad! "This is what the King of Angkor does with his new-found power? Find villages filled with innocents to use in a trust exercise?" It made no sense. Nothing made sense!
"Of course there was more to it," Kane responded. "The Conjurions had the power to defy us. They had to be stopped either way. It was just luck that we had this problem, and at the same time, Richard was looking for a way to give you a second chance."
This explanation filled Bram with such profound disgust that he no longer recognized the man standing before him. He seemed no different from the spawn that burned the villagers alive in their homes. He put his hand on his sword, and deliberately unsheathed it.
"You would turn your sword on me?" Kane yelled with eyes filled with horror and shock. "I'm not your enemy!"
Bram said nothing. He was determined to put an end to it. Waves of darkness emanated from his sword, as his own enmity synergized with the blade's magical enchantments. It throbbed beneath his grip.
"Wait!" Kane told him, his arms raised defensively. "If not for me, you'd be dead already. I'm the reason you're still alive!"
Bram looked at Kane through bloodshot eyes. "Why I should listen to your lies any longer?"
His friend stepped forward confidently, despite the poisoned blade nearly grazing his throat. "Because you were meant to take the fall along with this village," he stated bluntly, gesturing to the mayhem below. "Those were my orders, if you chose to defy me. But, see? I've disobeyed so that you may live. I did it to protect you!"
"Who do you serve?" Bram demanded.
Kane's swallowed nervously, but then his face turned back to the stoic facade of a Templar. "King Richard, of course."
Bram's blood boiled. "Lies! Everything you've said so far is a lie! Who gave you the orders to torch this village? Was it Virgil?"
"It doesn't matter. What's done is done." Kane's scowl disappeared, and in its place was a sickly smile. "Put your sword away, and we'll return with more riches and power than you could possibly imagine. Our king will proclaim us heroes."
Bram was awestruck, unable to respond. The bowls of his gut burned with anger hotter than the fires of the burning village. The man he had known since childhood was unrecognizable.
"You're a murderer. To think you've made peace with the deaths of so many innocents is reprehensible enough—but don't you ever think of yourself as a hero!"
"You take that back, Bram! I've risked my life in service for our country just as much as you—and I'd risk my honor so that yours may be returned to you!"
"Are you blind? Look what you've done!" He pointed to the villagers, who ran around burning and screaming. "We've taken their lives in return for nothing! You look into your heart, and tell me you don't recognize this madness!"
"I'm not mad, I assure you," Kane replied, his words cold and calculating. "You've just lost perspective." He pointed towards the portals in the sky. "Look there, at the monsters of legend. Would you not feel differently, if these so-called peaceful villagers turned their creatures upon our homeland? What if Akhana's lightning charred the bones of our loved ones? What if the mighty jaws of Sige swallowed our children?"
The creatures still circled the skyline, trying in vain to halt the impending destruction. Slowly, the spawn from the box overwhelmed them.
The Templar continued, his voice like ice, "Who's to say how these savages will react to our growing power, if left unchecked? Would you be absolved of guilt, if they made the first move? Would it pacify your conscience, if we were motivated by vengeance rather than precaution?"
Bram looked back on Kane with revulsion. It was senseless to argue. Every moment he spent with the lunatic made it less likely he would find survivors. He spat in the Templar's direction, and headed toward the village to either help or die trying.
"Don't you turn your back on me, Bram!" he heard Kane scream as he ran in the opposite direction. He ignored the words, as well as the threats that followed. Crossing the side of the embankment, he jumped to a nearby ledge and used a tree branch to slow his descent. On his way down, he noticed that many of the spawn from the box had already fallen to the might of the summoned creatures. Even so, as many as were defeated, the box simply produced more.
As he entered the ruined village, he drew his sword cautiously. Along the ground lay charred remains of women and children whose lives had been tragically cut short. It made him sick, but he tried to force his body to block the nausea long enough to search for survivors.
He saw the dead through blurred vision. He ran, dodging flames and corpses, until he could go no further. Burdened by the weight of his actions and no longer able to control his body, he collapsed. Turning to the side, he disgorged all that had boiled inside him.
The vomiting sapped his strength, but he forced himself alert. As his vision cleared, he caught sight of a spawn coming from the side of a flaming hut. Replacing his sickness with rage, he rose from the ground and plunged his sword into the creature's backside before it had time to react. The magical blade rent cleanly through and out its chest, spilling greasy ichor onto the ground. The moss and grass below wilted the moment the substance touched down. Before Bram had a chance to yank his sword free, the corpse turned to ash and scattered in the wind. He was pleased to see it. This way he would know for sure they were dead!
Four more spawn came at him, but he directed his anger at cutting them down. He thrust his weapon against their scaly hides, dismembering heads and limbs with his fury. It left him reinvigorated, and he pushed onward, hoping to find even a single man or woman to save.
Near the center of the village, he heard a small whimpering over the many roars of flames. Following the sound to its source, he came upon a large and ornate pavilion with totems on the sides and fur skins along the front. It must have been the chief's hut. Flames slowly consumed the structure, but lying on the ground only several spans away was the body of a middle-aged woman. On top of the body, weeping, was a child no older than a toddler.
Bram sheathed his sword and removed his skull-shaped helm to appear less intimidating. "Young one," he coaxed, "is this your mother?"
The child looked up, her face red with grief, and cheeks streaming with tears. "My mommy lost contact with her aeon and stopped breathing." She choked out, in between sobs.
Bram bent down to check for a pulse, but found nothing. The body was unmarked by wounds or burns, but the child's words caught his attention. "What do you mean by aeon, child?"
She did not seem to understand, so he tried what he hoped was a more appropriate question.
"What did your mother's 'aeon' look like?"
"Mommy's aeon was the Ouroborus—the snake made of dew-fog." Her words flowed in between the tears. "But there was fire … and everyone left me alone." She started crying uncontrollably. "I … want my … mommy."
The story broke Bram's heart, but it helped him to recall more about the old legends. The aeons were the creatures that came from the portals in the sky. The serpent of mist that he and Kane had fought in the cave must have also been an aeon. He remembered what the Ouroborus had said. It had given him an opportunity to turn back, and only attacked when he challenged it.
When Kane killed the aeon, it apparently severed the link between it and the Conjurion who summoned it. It must have been the child's mother, which was how she had died. Realizing this, Bram bent down and placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "Don't be afraid, young one. Your mother needs you to leave the village with me right away."
He took her by the hand, but was halted when a voice came from behind him.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Bram."
Bram spun around to the man who had betrayed him. He instinctively placed himself before the girl.
"Move aside!" the Templar snarled.
"You wouldn't dare, Kane!" he growled through clenched teeth. "She's just a child, and you'd be murdering her in cold blood! Is that what our country's citizens need protection from—a little girl?"
"You have no idea what that savage is capable of, do you?"
"The Goddess curse you!"
"If you're having an attack of conscience, Bram, then leave it to me to finish this. I'll spare your life if you leave now and never show your face in Angkor again. But I swear—if you stand in my way, I'll cut you down myself!"
"Damn you, Kane—I won't let you harm her! You and Richard can rot in the ground. I'll never follow his orders again!"
"Those are the words of a traitor, punishable by death. Do you intend to stand by them?"
"I won't back down!"
Kane looked down at his spear, his face contorted with indecision. After a short pause, his visage returned to the disciplined calm of a warrior about to enter battle. "So be it," he uttered, his spear raised.
Bram donned his helm and drew his sword. He faced the man he had known since childhood, knowing he would not be able to leave the valley with Kane still alive. Shouting a war cry that filled him with as much pain as it did bloodlust, he ran forward with his blade poised to strike. Kane pivoted and swung his polearm, and the two weapons met with a torrent of magical energy. The sound was deafening, like a thunderclap. Earth and rock flew upwards from the backlash, and both warriors were flung to opposite sides.
Nearby, the little girl screamed in fear, and a golden aura of magic surrounded her. Her voice echoed above the treetops, beyond the roar of the fires or clash of magical weapons. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as an eerie silence descended upon the village. Magic permeated the air, and Bram felt his flesh break out in goose-bumps.
Above him, a magical gateway appeared, filling the entire skyline above the burning village. Out of the portal came an aeon of such magnitude that it dwarfed all others before it. A single red hand appeared, large enough to pick up a tree as if it were a toothpick. Bram inched backward, paralyzed in shock and disbelief. He watched as the creature's colossal arms extended out from the portal, each capable of moving mountains. Finally, the gargantuan head and torso emerged, filling the mountain valley with its prodigious girth. Bram recognized this creature of legend, but nothing prepared him for the extraordinary might of a titan.
As it stepped out of the gateway, its incomprehensible weight landed into the valley below. As soon as it touched down, a fearsome tremor shook the ground, and a gaping chasm split the basin in two. Bram and Kane dove out of the way of a widening trench that appeared right beside them, each ending up on opposite sides.
"This is not over!" the Templar threatened, but as the chasm widened, he lost any chance of jumping to the same side.
Bram ignored the threat and searched for the little girl. He saw her unconscious body lying on the ground. She appeared to have lost her footing and hit her head against a rock. He hoped she would not have a concussion.
Grabbing her in his arms, he raced away before the fissure grew any larger. Though the child weighed little, he was already exhausted, and even his enchanted armor did little to make it easier. He strained every muscle and tendon to save himself and his lone survivor.
Looking up, he watched the titan grab hold of the spawn and crush them in its massive hands. They left trails of ashes that drifted away in the wind. At the same time, bubbling magma spilled forth from the chasm the giant had created. The tremors ruptured through the mountain's geothermal core, causing molten rock to rise to the surface. In minutes, the valley's delicate ecosystem would be completely destroyed.
Focusing all his energy, Bram ran toward higher ground. As he did so, the valley shook, boulders fell from the hillocks, and lava oozed from every opening. His only chance was to head toward the Zeugma Pass, a league or two to the east. He looked to the young girl in his arms, vowing to get her to safety.
After twenty minutes of running, he reached the base of the trail. Behind him, huge veins of smoke curled upwards toward the sky. He looked to the former jungle paradise, now utterly obliterated.
It was a pitiful loss, a thing of great beauty that could never again be replaced—and all because of a man obsessed with greed and power. But one thing King Richard had not calculated was that his most loyal Gnostic would have the sense to question the madness, and not even a trained Templar would have the power to stop him.
He looked once more at the titan, who had climbed the adjacent peaks to avoid the flames below. Meanwhile, the young child slept soundly in his arms, the only survivor from an entire race of Conjurions. The aeon returned to the starry portal, but before it left, it gazed once more in Bram's direction. His heart stood still for a moment, but relaxed as soon as the titan entered the portal and disappeared.
Unabated, he continued his march along the mountain path until the sight of the ruined valley was far behind him.