Chapter 7
It was something of an anticlimax, actually.
Following the final test, in which Chirard had sacrificed the memory of his family to Khorne, the climb up the last part of the Brass Mountain had been easy. Chirard now found himself on a plateau at the very top of the holy mount. He could see for dozens of miles in every direction, yet for some reason his gaze was ddrawn to battles. He could see three raging from here. He tried to look away, yet despite his efforts, he always wound up looking at one of those three battles. It seems the Blood God wanted His pilgrims to focus on war.
Time passed, how much he couldn't say. He began to grow impatient. Why had he not Ascended? He had passed all three tests, after all.
AHH. BUT THERE ARE FOUR TESTS TO PASS.
The voice came from everywhere and from nowhere. Its power was such that Chirard was driven to his knees, yet because he heard no echo, he knew no sound had been made. Clearly, someone was speaking directly into his mind.
I AM NOT 'SOMEONE'! I AM KHORNE! GOD OF BATTLE, GOD OF RAGE, GOD OF HONOR, GOD OF ANGER, GOD OF BLOOD! YOU CAME HERE IN MY NAME, SEEKING MY BLESSING. YOU DID WELL.
THE FIRST TEST WAS TO ENSURE THAT YOU WERE STRONG OF BODY, FIRST BY CAUSING YOU PAIN AND THEN TEMPTING YOU WITH SOMETHING YOU KNEW TO BE AGAINST MY WILL. THE SECOND TESTED YOUR RESOLVE, BY INFLICTING DESPAIR AND DOUBT UPON YOU. THE THIRD TESTED YOUR COMMITMENT TO ME, OFFERING YOU A CHOICE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR PITIFUL FAMILY. YOU PASSED THEM ALL, BUT YOU HAVE ONE FINAL TEST TO PASS.
A final test! The old man said there were but three. He is Ascended, he should know!
Chirard's mind filled with horrible, thunderous, raucous laughter.
THE OLD MAN? ASHLAR! HE WAS A FAILED CANDIDATE FOR ASCENSION. HE REACHED THE FINAL TEST, BUT FAILED TO CHOOSE ME OVER HIS WOMAN! HE REMAINED DOWN THERE ONLY TO GUIDE THE NEXT CANDIDATE. HE IS GONE NOW, HIS SOUL USED TO FUEL MY FORGES.
PREPARE YOURSELF FOR YOUR FINAL CHALLENGE, MORTAL.
What is this challenge Lord? I cannot prepare unless you tell me.
ME.
Suddenly, Chirard felt something monstrous happening. It felt as though the entire frame of reality was being torn asunder. The sun itself seemed to shake, and the air shimmered in a dozen hues for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, a huge armored figure stood before him. The armor was blood red, and carved with runes of the Blood God. The creatures feet were clad in metal greaves with razor sharp talons where the toes should be. Its hadns were clad in gauntlets. The head bore a metal helm, with eye slits just large enough for Chirard to see the rage and blood lust that lurked within its red eyes. It bore an immense black sword.
PREPARE YOURSELF FOR COMBAT, MORTAL. YOU WILL NOT FIND ME AN EASY OPPONENT.
Chirard trembled for the first time since his entry into the Wastes centuries before. He was expected to fight a God, and not just any god. No, he had to defeat the God of War Himself.
Without warning Khorne struck, His sword flashing out in an arc designed to take Chirard's head off. He dodged right, but the Blood God's avatar was already moving, spinning its ody to turn its slash into an overhand strike. Again, Chirard rolled aside, but not before the sword hacked off his tail.
After that point, Chirard lost track of the fight. His mind became nothing more than a second-y-second flow of data. He couldn't plan, couldn't maneuver, he was completely reliant on his centuries of experience and his well-honed intincts. Normally, he would have said this gave him a distinct edge, but this was KHORNE! Of all the Chaos Gods, He was the strongest and most savage. He was war ITSELF, and now Chirard had to fight Him!
This is impossible. I can't win! No matter what I do, no matter what I try, He keeps on coming! No one could win here! There ARE no Ascended!
HE wasn't sure how long the entire thing went on. He remembered, later, periods of darkness, in which the only light came from his Opponent, a hellish red glow. He guessed at least two nights, but if he had discovered it to be two months, it would not have surprised him.
At the end, he was exhausted, covered in wounds ranging from nicks and cuts to his missing left eye. He could barely stand, much less fight. Khorne didn't have so much a scuff on His armor. The eyes glaring within the helm seemed as aware and strong as they had at the start of this nightmare. IT was over, he was done. Despair welled within him. All for nothing
Yet…
Wasn't this the inevitable destiny of all Khorne worshippers? To give their blood, their lives, their very souls to their God? So what if he was to be crushed by that same God, did that not make his offering the greater? Despair fled to be replaced by an odd sort of pride. Using the last of his strength he yelled out, as he had thousands of times before: "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" and, in a much weaker tone: "MY blood…my..SOUL…for You"
Khorne put up his Hellblade. The body he had been fighting vanished, as though it had never been.
GOOD. YOU UNDERSTAND.
…..
"What?"
I WILL BE HONEST WITH YOU CHIRARD, FOR TREACHERY AND LIES ARE THE DOMAIN OF MY BROTHER TZEENTCH. I HAVE ENJOYED THIS IMMENSELY, IT IS RARE THAT I CAN DO BATTLE PERSONALLY. AND YOU PUT UP A GOOD FIGHT. BUT THE FIGHT WAS NEVER YOUR REAL TEST. IN EVERY BATTLE YOU EVER FOUGHT, VICTORY WAS AT LEAST POSSIBLE. HERE, YOU FACED AN UNBEATABLE OPPONENT, YET YOUR DEVOTION TO ME REMAINED. NOT ONCE DID YOU SURRENDER TO FEAR, DESPAIR, LUST, OR FALSE HOPE. YOU ARE WORTHY OF ASCENCION. PREPARE YOURSELF.
What happened next cannot truly be described in words. The most noticeable thing to an outsider would be the sudden warping of Chirard's body. It grew much, much larger. The hircine horns remained, but his skull flattened, becoming more dog-like. Immense, black wings burst from his back, and his tail regrew. His feet returned once again to hooves, only now they were much larger, and even harder than before. His proud talons slowly, painfully changed into fingers, and his eyes became like those of some wild beast. His new body gave him a sense of immense power and violence.
Yet despite the immense pain wrought by these changes, Chirard barely noticed them. His mind was undergoing a phenomenal transformation, at becoming at once greater and narrower. Greater, as it transcended the world of men. Chirard now found himslef able to see into the Empyrean the realm of the Gods. He felt the great tides of energy, as the Gods battled one another for dominance. A pure, bright, yet somehow hideous light which he knew instinctively to be that of Sigmar, held valiantly alongside the lesser lights of the other Human gods. Khorne was a blood red haze, the third largest he could see. Tzeentch was a rainbow, ever shifting in color and brightness. Nurgle a vomit-coloured pool of vile power. Slaanesh was pinkish-purple, a fairly attractive colour, yet one which inspired only hatred in Chirard. Through his new mind, Chirard heard Nurgle fuming. He had been so SURE that the mortal would give in to despair, or hope, and join his following. Instead, the brain-dead berzerker God gets a new muscle-head AND my help in his next assault against Slaanesh. And the plague in Brettonia failed… sigh I suppose even Gods have our bad days… Overhearing this shoud have provoked amusement, but did not.
Largest of all were two green bodies, which a mental voice named Gork and Mork, the greenskin gods. There were others, yet they were no concern of his, being too weak, or too alien, to be worthy of notice. Yet.
At the same time, however, Chirard's mental focus narrowed. His thoughts became channelize, limited to violence and bloodshed. Before his Ascencion, he had pursued these things because they were the finest things he knew, the greatest experiences he'd ever found. Now, however, they were the ONLY things he knew. He felt himself fill with rage, a rage so strong and hot he knew it could never be quenched if he lived a milleniu. His bloodlust became a horrible thirst which could never be slaked, even if he were to kill all the world. All other emotions were burned away, consumed by the new fires of anger and bloodlust.
Chirard opened his mouth and howled:
"Blood for the blood God!"
And a new Kha'khaoz'khysh'kha'kami, Bloodthirster of Khorne, was afflicted upon the world of Men.
May the Gods have mercy on us all.
END
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