Violent Storms
The poor, vile creature cried out in agony as the mother of demons gleefully stomped her heel into the back of its decomposing head. She chuckled at the situation's ironic nature as she shook off bits and pieces of the repulsive creature's decaying gray flesh and watched gleefully as the gangrenous chunks leeched their poison into the dark soil that surrounded the mausoleum. The symbolism wasn't lost on her. Just as YHWH had ordained that man would stomp on the heads of the "legless" tempter that was Satan, so too would she stomp on the heads of these perverse consumers of the dead.
Sure, it wasn't a 1:1 comparison, but Lilith couldn't bring herself to care. Ghouls were still 'God's creations' quote, unquote and if he truly loved all his creations, he would be harmed by this foul creature's pain.
An indignant mood overtook her as she processed the distasteful thought of God loving his creations. Viciously, she stomped her arched heel into the back of the ghoul's neck, effectively snapping its neck. Its soft, pained whimpers flooded the otherwise quiet night air, but despite its torment, the repulsive beast still clung desperately to life. Ghouls were resilient creatures. For all their perverse flaws, they had that going for them at the very least.
Spittle flew from her mouth as she growled in frustration at her flittering thoughts.
Unconditional love. What a joke. Who the fuck came up with such idiocy?
Oh, who was she kidding. Elohim didn't care for her. He didn't care for demons. He didn't care for his son, Lucifer. A true god, nay, a true father would have happily taken back the prodigal son and invited him into his loving embrace. Instead, Lucifer had been cast out. All because he had made a single mistake that would inevitably be inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. What was one mistake, no matter how big, in the face of eternity. In the face of the eons that separated the beginning of the virgin universe to its inevitable end, whether by heat or crunch.
All Lucifer had done was refuse to bow to one measly creature. His actions of rebelling against the heavens all stemmed from that one act of defiance. Why could humans show free will when angels couldn't? Why couldn't they have the ability to speak freely against policies that they disagreed with without fear of retribution?
YHWH was unfair and his penchant for double standards was abhorrent in her eyes. If Melek Taus could refuse to bow to Adam and get away with being made one of the Seven Angels, why couldn't Lucifer? What made the Peacock Angel so special?
Of course, logically, Lilith knew the answer from the rumors. The Peacock Angel refused to bow to Adam, believing it was a test from God to see if he would put man over the creator. Lucifer, on the other hand, refused to bow out of selfish reasons; not because of his love for God, but because he was filled with pride and refused to debase himself in front of creatures made from dust as God had commanded.
Perhaps the Lord was a fair judge… at least in this intention behind an action mattered more than the action itself or the consequences that resulted from the act.
But why wasn't there room for the beings of the divine to embrace such minor emotions as selfishness? Why were they placed upon such a high pedestal and then punished for even the most minor of transgressions. When the angels that would become some of the first demons coupled with humans and begotten the giants that terrorized the world prior to the flood, they were cursed to become the debased and decayed beings that they now were, unloved and rejected by a jealous god.
They were punished for the sin of lust. They were punished for the sin of love.
And yet, with humans, they were able to embark freely in committing these sins with the possibility of forgiveness sometime later. Such forgiveness was never afforded to the banished angels.
Adultery. Beastiality. Libel. Greed. Sloth. Murder. Humans committed all those "atrocities" and more, yet Elohim still sought to forgive them lest they be condemned to the fiery pits of hell. It didn't matter what sin they made. All that mattered was that they were human. God's "perfect" creation.
Lilith just scoffed at that. The implication of that statement was that every other creation was something "less than perfect." Did not God realize the blatant favoritism he afforded to humanity? Why did he not try to reach out to the beings who were truly poor and oppressed? Why did he not try and reach out to those who were truly afflicted with any number of maladies?
After all, why should a monster be condemned to hell if it was literally programmed to desire human flesh. Why should a creature like the Uridimmu be condemned if it was created for the sole purpose of destruction? It's not like they had a choice in the matter. It was the non-human sentients that were truly oppressed. The shedim. The demons. Herself. If God was truly righteous, their punishments would have ended eons ago. Her punishment would have ended eons ago. Instead, they were oppressed by a god who swore to love all of his creations equally. Even this ghoul was abandoned by God.
A human could curse out God and get away with it scott free as long as they repented with an earnest heart. Such a blessing was never afforded to the lesser beings of this world.
Punishment for humans was always delayed, always temporary. They'd always be given a chance to turn from their wicked ways, and yet, with Lucifer, with her, they were never afforded a second chance?
Was the rebellion worth banishment for millenia? Was refusing to sleep with her husband really worth being transformed into the hateful creature that she now was?
She'd be lying if she said she didn't hate herself. She'd be lying if she said she didn't pity herself. Those emotions were all there, hidden under the swarming ocean that was her rage, resentment, and desire for revenge against all of the creatures that Elohim had gifted the Earth to. She had once been beautiful, but now she was a monster. A being capable of bringing only death. Perhaps, over time, those feelings of self-loathing would erase themselves. Perhaps she would cease to think them or even entertain those thoughts.
Maybe one day she could be human again.
She doubted it though.
Her victim cried out, having been victimized further by the unintentional pressure that Lilith's foot had placed against its back while she had been facing her internal monologue. Its decaying flesh sloughed off its body as it struggled against the firm pressure inflicted by Lilith's foot. The demoness simply rolled her eyes at the pathetic struggles of the creature as she reached down and grabbed the creature from the back of the neck as if she were grabbing a snake.
The ghoul tried in vain to chomp at her with its plaque-ridden yellowed teeth as the mother of demons clenched her nose in an attempt to avoid its vomit-inducing stench.
A single cock of her head was all it took. The ghoul's cries suddenly faded as an invisible force slammed into its jaw, propelling the head up with enough power to decapitate it and end its miserable existence on the planet.
"I'm sorry, little one," she mourned solemnly as she suddenly regretted the harsh punishment she'd doled out on the beast in the name of harming God. Elohim didn't care about a simple ghoul. It was a monster. Just like her. It was a wasteful, prolonged death meant to bring her pleasure.
She was better than that. She needed to be better than that. Otherwise, it would render her crusade meaningless.
God's "perfect" creations were the only ones who truly needed to suffer. Who needed to be tortured. Harming anything else would be meaningless. Wasteful, even.
A small smile of regret graced her face as she embraced the revelation. The ghoul would've had to die anyway, but she should've made it a quick death.
With her quarry contained and defeated, Lilith reached in with her pale hand and clutched the base of the beast's tongue.
A single jerk sent blood spurting into the air. Silently, Lilith dropped the dead ghoul as she glanced at its pink tongue before flicking her hand, causing the tongue to vanish into thin air, stored away until the Night Owl would need to present it to Hecate.
Lilith gave one last glance at the necropolis she was in before apparating away. One down. Six to go.
X
"So, let me get this straight," Perseus said slowly as he greeted the two death gods with a hesitant gaze. Pazuzu's crooked, seemingly all-knowing smile bore itself into Perseus' slit eyes as the mercenary god carefully contemplated the situation before him.
Pazuzu was dangerous. Perseus remembered how easily the demon had incapacitated Enkidu and Shamhat by inducing severe hypoxia with his unrivaled control of the air. His own powers were not based in anything elemental and, thus, he was at an extreme disadvantage. After all, what could a bunch of snakes do against a twister?
Absolutely nothing.
As dangerous as Pazuzu was, Nergal was just as, if not more. The dark-haired god of plague and destruction rarely descended from the heavens, but when he did, he was infamous for the destruction he'd reap. Mortals who had disrespected him would garner his personal attention. Villages would be wiped out with outbreaks of plague. Soldiers could be incited to commit violent atrocities such as rape and genocide whenever he was in their midst. He brought out the worst in people when he was offended, but if treated right, he could prove to be a powerful patron god whose fearsome nature and violent tendencies could be wielded by his followers as a deterrent.
Like Pazuzu, he was known to have a benevolent side, providing his visage and power to those who sought to invoke him for the apotropaic effects that could scare off minor demons and the like. He protected those who sought refuge under him.
Such a dichotomy between benevolence and annihilation wasn't unique amongst the gods. In fact, the vast majority of gods possessing such a dichotomy. Zeus could massacre an entire city in one instant and then grant a boon to an unsuspecting mortal in the next instant. Perseus, himself, had shown such a dichotomy when he'd ruthlessly desecrated the heritage of the mad king of Lagash.
The difference was that he regretted his severe actions. He didn't know if the same could be said for the other gods.
Offend a god and you would die. Please them and you would live. It was that simple.
"You want me to join you on your expedition into Kur to convince Ereshkigal to just hand over her throne," he scoffed as his eyes widened in slight panic as he recalled the terrors that lurked around every corner in Kur. Monsters emerging from the all-consuming shadow that permeated the darker parts of the underworld. Spirits howling out in despair. Red-eyed demons gleefully taking chunks of your precious flesh as they tried to tear you limb from limb.
He'd been on high alert every hour of each and every day that he had spent in that desolate realm. He'd spent months there, bargaining with the gatekeeper Neti to be allowed to pass safely through the desolate lands while avoiding the attention of any of the gods and goddesses that called Kur's more pleasant and habitable lands home.
"At the same time, you want to just convince her, the ruler of the underworld, the sister of Inanna, to just forswear her husband Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven!?"
Nergal snorted as Pazuzu let out a small, humored giggle that was pleasing to the ears.
"You misunderstand me," Nergal said amused. "I never said anything about taking Ereshkigal's throne. I simply desire to show her that there are…. better, more desirable options for a royal consort."
"A more desirable option than the Bull of Heaven," Perseus deadpanned as Nergal simply chuckled in response. "One of the strongest individual's in your entire pantheon. One who is said to have the power to wreak seven years of famine just from the sheer destruction he'd cause to the landscape."
"The Bull of Heaven is old news," Pazuzu interjected with a lazy grin. "His power is far from what it used to be. He has grown fat and complacent of the riches of the underworld while refusing to put any work into its administration or governance. He refuses to train. He refuses to work. He's content to just sit around and do absolutely nothing. My sources tell me that Ereshkigal is quite …. displeased at her husband's laziness. When she'd married the Bull, she'd expected a semi-equal partnership where she'd still be the sovereign, but the Bull would make sure to pull his own weight, so to speak. Needless to say, that hasn't occurred."
Pazuzu's eyes twinkled with mirth. "I suppose it also doesn't help that Gugalanna is planning to incite a rebellion."
Perseus' suspicious eyes narrowed a bit. "Is he now?" he questioned as the demon king of the winds met his gaze with a sheepish grin.
"No… well at least not yet. Perhaps not ever." Nergal's eyes gleamed in agreement as the shadows in the room seemed to grow thicker and choke the few remaining light sources around them. It seemed that the future ruler wasn't afraid to flaunt his power.
"All that matters is that the queen thinks he is. Paranoia is a powerful weapon. Just imagine it. In our wonderfully patriarchal society, there are few abodes that have their centers of power centered around a woman. The underworld is one of those places."
Nergal smirked as he continued Pazuzu's assertions. "It won't take much for Inanna to suspect that Gugalanna is plotting against her. A god as powerful as he being subject to the whims of a goddess? How horrifying," he exclaimed sarcastically. "She will strike back to secure her power and I will be the logical replacement just sitting there, ready to take my place by her side as an equal in all but name."
"And how will you ensure that the paranoia you unleash doesn't come back to bite you," Perseus accused. "Surely, a paranoid Ereshkigal would see you as a threat to her power being a powerful male god with way too much ambition and all that. Wouldn't she rather just be the sole ruler of the underworld after such a betrayal. It would be more paperwork for sure, but at least she won't be worried about her husband stabbing her in the back."
Nergal shrugged. "I haven't worked out all the minor kinks and details that are going to go into the plan, but I assure you that contingencies will be in place."
"Should you aid us in this…. minor endeavor," Nergal continued, "I will personally ensure that you will have a place within Kur that you can call home."
"A home," Perseus questioned, the intrigued glint from his green eyes betraying the otherwise emotionless facade on his face.
Nergal nodded. "A home. A place of refuge that you can use to store all your trinkets and objects of monetary value within. A place where they will stay safe, being guaranteed protection by the kings of the underworld."
"And, perhaps the most important asset of such a place," Nergal continued, "it is a place where the gods of your homeland would never be able to step in. You would be protected from the wrath of your father or your uncles should the need arise. They wouldn't dare enter the lands of Mesopotamia without permission. To do so would mean war with the entire pantheon, and rest assured, we would protect you. Not out of the goodness of our hearts, but because of our sheer hubris and desire to avenge ourselves against a perceived slight."
"You would be safe, Perseus. Safe from your homeland. Safe from Anu. Safe from the angels of Eden. Safe from your father. All you need to do is help me take control of Kur."
Perseus stayed silent, weighing out the pros and cons in his head. He'd be lying if he said that the offer didn't intrigue him. Safety was something everyone needed, whether they be god, monster, or mortal. A place to retreat when things got bad. A place that he could call home.
He'd made dozens of enemies over the years. So many monsters that desired the nutritious, quenching golden ichor that ran through his veins. So many gods that wouldn't hesitate to put a knife in his heart at the first sign of weakness.
The downside, though, was that he'd be putting himself in the hands of the underworld gods. Nergal and Ereshkigal weren't Hades. They were darker beings who didn't shy away from… unpleasant activities.
In many ways, mortals and minor gods were just playthings to them. Perseus didn't know if he wanted to join their ranks.
Then again, if he established himself as the godling who put the crown on Nergal's head, would he really be a minor god?
He could be elevated to the status of major-minor god, or whatever that particular gray area was called. He could be like Hecate. Like Pan. Like Morpheus. Like his brother.
No more slumming it with the likes of Kratos, Britomartis, and Notus. He'd at least be a god that the average mortal knew of by name.
Finally, he spoke.
"Not enough," he bargained. They needed him more than he needed them. He had been a semi-untested godling, but Pazuzu had still come to him for some reason prior to the battle with Lamashtu.
Nergal and Pazuzu glanced at each other before smiling. It was going to be a long night.
The plans for the inevitable invasion of the underworld would take time. Nergal and Pazuzu knew the merits of strict planning and accounting for any possible number of outcomes. They would share the plans with him at a later date, but in the mean-time they'd given him a talisman that resembled the head of a canine. By focusing a bit of divine energy into it, Perseus could get Pazuzu's attention and summon him to his location in an emergency situation. It wouldn't do for their weaker, third conspirator to suddenly dissolve into a million golden pieces because of an unlucky arrow to the groin.
Needless to say, Perseus hoped he'd never have to use it. He didn't want to owe the demon any favors.
Of course, Perseus knew that that just meant they would be giving him the bare minimum amount of info. If the worst came to pass, he was going to be their little scapegoat.
He didn't begrudge them for it. They knew that he knew about their plans. It was just basic common sense. At the end of the day, it was just business. High risk, high reward. He'd bargained as much with them. More gold was always appreciated.
Gilgamesh and Enkidu weren't going to accompany him. To put it simply, his employers didn't trust them enough. Instead, Pazuzu had advised him to head west to the Cedar Forests of the Levant to find Humbaba and kill him.
A distraction for the time being. Something to satiate Gilgamesh's desire for renown and Enkidu's desire for companionship and adventure.
They would leave in one month. That would hopefully give Gilgamesh enough time to prepare the kingdom for his absence. Uruk and Lagash were the first two cities he'd solidified under his rule. Arrata, Eridu, Kish, Umma - all would eventually fall to the might of Uruk. All of Sumer would be underneath his grasp.
An empire. The first empire.
But such invasions would have to wait. The trio had talked to each other regarding their next adventure and the king of Uruk was insistent in pressing for the death of Humbaba, Pazuzu's brother. Perseus was hesitant as doing so would provoke the ire of several gods. Enlil, who had appointed Humbaba as guardian, would be furious at what essentially amounted to pre-meditated murder.
Logically, he knew that should Humbaba die, he'd be the one that the gods targeted since Gilgamesh and Enkidu were corrected directly to the pantheon. He would be the scapegoat.
Gilgamesh wanted Humbaba to die so that he could have access to the magical cedar that the gods hoarded for themselves. That much was obvious in his brief conversations with the king of Uruk. Enkidu would simply follow Gilgamesh, for no reason other than their friendship.
Even if he refused to go, Gilgamesh would simply leave without him and if he should perish in the battle… well, the gods would still blame him for not protecting their chosen one.
He was doomed if he did and doomed if he didn't. At least there would be fewer gods angry at Humbaba's death than with Gilgamesh's.
There was always the possibility that Gilgamesh would emerge victorious without him… but no, that was too much of a risk. He'd be free of responsibility, but the odds that the king of Uruk would succeed were miniscule at best.
Perseus sighed as he made up his mind.
At least he'd have a home in Kur to flee to in the future.
The cedar forest was located near the city of Ugarit in the Levant. The gods of Mesopotamia and the gods of the proto-Canaanites were allied with each other and shared in the bounty that was the forest. It's precious wood being used to craft all matter of weapons, buildings, and magical artifacts.
While traveling there, they would need to keep an eye out for signs of Tiamat's return. Now informed of the escaped beasts that were her children, Marduk and the other gods were on the lookout for the Tablet of Destinies and any of Tiamat's spawn that was hiding in the world.
The Uridimmu had been slain. Several more were still loose. That was the problem of Shamash and the rest of the gods. For now, he'd be able to relax. Maybe eat some dates.
Perseus froze for a bit, his mind racing as he recalled the word.
'Dates,' Perseus thought to himself as he suddenly remembered the events of the past few weeks. Dates grow on palm trees.
Why the fuck didn't the Palm Tree King shoot dates at them? How the hell did he get his hands on coconuts of all things. I mean, it would have likely been more geographically accurate considering the fact that coconuts weren't a fruit he was familiar with. They weren't found in the peaks of the Zagros Mountains or the coastal plains of Greece.
Clearly, the Palm Tree King came from a land far to the east, or perhaps the south, or perhaps the west. Maybe coconuts grew in the far north in the lands of Hyperborea and Thule.
Perseus shook his head trying to dispel such thoughts from his mind. Now was not the time to question the origins of coconuts. It was time for relaxation. Sometimes, he hated his spontaneous realizations.
It would take around two weeks for him to get Gilgamesh and Enkidu to be on the same page as him and then get ready. Plenty of time to rest. Plenty of time to talk to Shamash about their next steps.
He needed a nap.
X
Umma
What can a human do against a primordial force of nature? Humans are destined to be the victims of circumstance whether it be the wrath of an angry god or an unlucky shift of the Earth's tectonic plates.
What can a mortal do against the powerful waters of a flash flood that sweeps away homes and livestock as if they were nothing more than a speck of dirt in the wind? What good can a human do to fight against the sheer destructive power of a hurricane as trees and bridges are torn asunder in its wake? What can they do against the overwhelming force of a tsunami's bubbling torrent or the earth-shattering might of an earthquake?
Humans are fragile creatures. They cannot survive against the asphyxiating power of a limnic eruption or the torrential cascade of scorching ash from a pyroclastic flow. What use is there for a human hand once its charred by a forest fire? What good are muscles when the adrenaline rush fails to push you out of an avalanche?
What are buildings against the might of a twister? What defense have humans devised against the ferocity that is the tornado? A beast of unimaginable power. A column of wind that tears through the innocent and guilty alike with no sense of mercy.
It cannot think. It cannot comprehend the lives that it destroys. It simply does what it is told, whether by a god or by mother nature. It cares naught for the lives it destroys. It cares naught for the pain it brings in its wake.
It is destruction incarnate, tossing humans, animals, and trees indiscriminately as it carves its legacy into the Earth below. It has no sentience. It simply does and the world quakes around it.
But what if it did have sentience? Imagine that.
It's a scary thought.
A tornado with just the bare minimum of sentience. Able to choose its targets and hunt them down as if it were a hunter chasing down a wounded deer.
After all, that is what we are to the Umu Dabrutu. Deer. Sheep. Unassuming prey that will be feasted upon by the most abstract of Tiamat's children.
Unlike the rest of Tiamat's beastly spawn, the Umu Dabrutu was not born with a physical form nor was it intangible. It was nothing but sentient wind, a column of ferocious power that centered itself around some unknown anomaly.
It couldn't be restrained physically. After all, how could you lasso a tornado? It would be akin to fishing up the Leviathan with a hook. An impossibility. An endeavor for the mad.
Luckily, the king of Umma didn't have to worry about such limitations. Material means may have been off the table, but mystical techniques were another story.
Magic. A concept of the abstract that had few hard written rules yet could accomplish nearly anything as long as the wielder had the strength to pay the price.
Few magicians, if any, had the strength to control such a beast which was why the king of Umma had paid a hefty sum to all the available sorcerers and witches that would heed his summons. The king had hoped that the combined might of the magicians would be able to control such a ravenous beast. As a result of his efforts, the wider region of Mesopotamia was practically devoid of magic users outside of the occasional woods witch or healer.
Only Umma held their loyalty and only an idiot would cross the envoys of the greatest of Sumeria's cities.
Apparently, that new governor of Lagash was one such idiot.
Uruk had overstepped its bounds. They had overplayed their hand. They would need to be taught a lesson.
He wouldn't destroy Lagash. To do so would be a complete waste of resources and would invite reprisal.
But Uruk.
Uruk and its great, prideful monarch. Gilgamesh clearly had imperial ambitions. It was obvious to everyone who cared about such matters of state.
He claimed to be divine, a declaration that the king could only scoff at. No matter how powerful he was, Gilgamesh was still human. He wasn't immortal. He could be killed.
After all, humans needed air to survive. What good would his strength be if he was asphyxiated by the latent power of the Umu Dabrutu?
What good was Gilgamesh's strength when faced with the powerful onslaught of winds that would render his city to rubble?
Gilgamesh would be dead and Lagash would be his. The tornado was firmly in his grasp and Uruk's army would quake underneath its gale force winds.
"Prepare the magicians and soldiers," he ordered his royal advisor. "We will march on Uruk within the week."
X
He felt weak. Drained.
He never should've accepted the seductress' offer of a good time. Fun was had, but he'd come away drained of energy (and not in a good way).
It had been just over a month and a half since the sexy, demonic fiend had stolen his blood. He'd come to that particular realization after he located a small, but particularly deep hole on his left buttock. That particular part of the body was somewhat resilient to pain and any pain that he did feel he simply dismissed as being from the scars that Lilith's claws had left on his back.
Sleeping with a demon. Why the fuck did he think that was a good idea?
What had she done to his blood that made him so weak? So feeble? It had taken days for him to have enough energy to leave his bed in the morning. Weeks to have the energy to leave his palace.
His wife wouldn't talk to him considering he'd confessed the entire tryst with a demon when she demanded to know why he couldn't get out of bed.
His son, the god of wisdom, saw him as a fool and he couldn't exactly defend himself against such a notion.
After all, what on earth had possessed him to sleep with a demon of all things. They all had ulterior motives. He'd dealt with Pazuzu. He'd dealt with Lamashtu in passing.
Yet, he still wasn't prepared when he came face to face with the ex-wife of Adam.
And now Shamash had provided him with reports of Tiamat's return. As if his life couldn't get any shittier, Anu had commanded him to seek out his former trophies that he'd released into the wild centuries ago. They had done their time, he'd thought back then. They had grown-up and now had the right to make their own choices rather than blindly following their base-instincts of murder and vengeance.
What a waste of mercy.
They were to be killed on the spot by his hand in most cases. Only one exception would be made and that was because Shamash had assured the lord of the sky of their loyalty.
The girtablilu. The scorpion-men. The guardians of Mount Mashu's gates. The guardians of the gate of the sun.
Shamash had requested them after Marduk had freed their monstrous brethren from their chains. He claimed that he saw potential in them as guardians. As servants. And he was right.
For centuries, they had dutifully guarded the gates of the sun in times of extreme rain and during times of extreme heat. Nothing could dissuade them from their duty of making sure that Shamash was safe from any threats that would ambush him on his way out of Kur.
The Sun had to be kept safe. After all, a world without its life-giving warmth was one full of darkness and death.
Whoever controlled the Sun controlled the fate of millions and so Shamash endeavored to place his own loyal soldiers at the gates.
Shamash treated the scorpion-men with kindness. The god of the sun had a use for them, as such, he refused to take any action that would make them feel angry and disrespected. Shamash could get away with it in regards to his behavior towards his hated ward, the beast Humbaba. He couldn't afford to do the same to those who would be guarding him.
At the very least, Shamash had been the one choosing to foster the young monsters. Enlil wasn't forcing them on him like he did with Humbaba and that was probably why the god of the sun was noticeably kinder to them.
Shamash didn't like being told what to do. He was the divinity of the sun. Not some minor god.
Shamash had full faith in the loyalty of the scorpion-men, but the other gods had their doubts so Marduk had found himself on Mount Mashu's slopes for the sole purpose of interrogation. With any luck, they would provide him with information on the location's of their siblings.
He'd have to be careful. He was still weak, weak enough that the two scorpion-men had a chance to actually kill him. Once again, he cursed the damned witch that had sapped his strength for her own benefit. No doubt Lilith was using his strength to do something malicious in nature.
As he approached the two beasts, he couldn't help but shiver at their gaze. There was something alien about their six eyes that dotted their otherwise regal human faces. The eyes were droplets of blackness that shimmered in the sunlight, nearly useless when compared to the eyes of humans, but they contained within them a shine that reeked of danger and malevolence to those who crossed them.
Their eyesight was poor like that of a scorpion's, but they were able to sense minute vibrations in the ground and air, allowing them to know the location of their prey at all times.
Golden jewelry studded with lapis lazuli and turquoise adorned their muscular upper torso, but from the waist down, they had the bodies of scorpions. A large carapace of exoskeleton shell acted as their abdomen and connected their long, dangling six legs that allowed them to easily move up and down and side to side, but greatly inhibited their ability to turn.
A glaring weakness to say the least. A sufficiently powerful opponent could easily run literal circles around the girtablilu, but the scorpion-men had defenses of their own that allowed them to counter the attack.
The most obvious of course was their extremely versatile tail. Several feet in length and tipped with an extremely long stinger, the scorpion-men could whip the tail like a powerful club to bludgeon its foes to death or end the life of its ill-prepared victim with a single, lightning-fast jab to the heart using its powerful stinger. Such a jab was powerful enough to break through rock. The human body had no chance.
And should the prey find themselves surviving the initial attack, the girtablilu would simply stalk its prey and wait for it to die from the potent venom that it had injected.
This didn't even take into account the sharp pincers that acted as their hands. Connected to their human-like arms, the pincers were as dark as obsidian and just as sharp, able to slice through flesh and bone with surgical precision.
If that wasn't enough, they were able to transform their pincers into wings allowing them to assault enemies from the air.
Few could survive being attacked by the beasts. Marduk had only managed to do so by relying upon the magic of the now-lost Tablet of Destinies.
"That had been an epic battle," he reminisced as he stalked towards the beasts. Sensing the vibrations on the ground, the two scorpion-men stood at attention as they pointed their poor eyes at the blurry visage of Marduk.
Marduk pushed his hands up in a gesture of peace as he moved slowly towards the monsters, taking care to not evoke immediate aggression. He winced internally as he recalled how their pincered claws had once eviscerated the war god Zababa during the great battle against Tiamat, allowing the god's intestines to spill out onto the cold, hard soil before the god's body vanished into a golden cloud.
It had been the day that saw him emerge as a hero, a pedestal of virtue and bravery. The day that saw the rivers enriched and Mesopotamia become the cradle of civilization. The day that saved humanity.
"Peace, my friends," he called out as the pincered beasts took several steps toward him. "It is I, Marduk. I have come to speak with you on behalf of the g-"
"We know why you are here," chittered the lefternmost scorpion-man. "Shamash informed us of your arrival and what you hoped to accomplish."
"Needless to say," continued the rightmost scorpion-man, his gleaming, obsidian stinger swaying from side to side in a threatening manner. "We are most displeased. We gave our oaths to Shamash and instead of treating us with the respect we deserve, you instead attack us with baseless accusations about our supposed treason."
Well… this was going to go well.
"My friends," cautioned Marduk, aiming to take this discussion in a more diplomatic manner. He couldn't afford to needlessly insult the half-scorpion men. "Let us not jump to assumptions. Yes, it is true that my fellow gods have doubts about your loyalty, but I swear to you, such baseless notions can be dispelled by answering a few questions. Our entire pantheon has faith in the various dealings of Shamash and he trusts you implicitly. You have the benefit of the doubt, my friends."
"Friends," spat out the lefternmost scorpion men venomously. "False platitudes are all we hear from you queenslayer. Tell me, where was this…. so-called "friendship" when you bound us and our brethren to your feet for a thousand years."
Marduk let out a low growl as the two girtablilu stalked towards him, their six pitch-black eyes gazing hungrily at the slayer of Tiamat.
"We know what you want to ask us and we refuse," hissed one of the scorpion men as the two spread out in different directions to surround the slayer of Tiamat. Venom dripped from the tip of their stingers onto the rocks below as they angrily approached Marduk. Their gaze was predatory in nature, chilling Marduk to the bone as he slunk backwards in a desperate attempt to keep his distance.
He was their prey now. They found his presence… delectable. A chance at revenge for taking away their mother from them.
"We will not betray our brothers." The creatures hissed in unison. The god could feel his fingers tremble in anticipation, ready to summon his weapons in order to buy time for a hasty get away.
"Our loyalty may be to Shamash, but we will not lead our brothers to their needless deaths at the hands of you gods. We will not be kinslayers."
"We offer you this single warning," they continued. "Do not seek us out again or we will be forced to use lethal force."
"You dare challenge a god?" Marduk growled as he summoned two blades to his side, finally fed up with the rebellious scorpion men. "You both were bound to my feet for days as I took vicious pleasure in stomping your necks into the Earth. Your stinging weapons didn't pierce my skin. Your venom didn't melt my flesh. What makes you think that you have any chance at surviving my wrath!"
His boasts fell on deaf ears as the scorpion men snapped their pincers together as if they were an ant's hungry jaws. Clear, viscous saliva drooled from their mouths as they restrained their instinctual urge to hnt.
The scorpion-man to Marduk's right spat the emerging drool in Marduk's face, sending tinglings of pain racing throughout his cheek. The slayer of Tiamat hissed in pain as he promptly rubbed the remaining saliva off his cheek and onto the back of his hand.
An idiotic decision of course. Now his left hand was on fire. He could barely keep his sword straight.
"I sense your weakness, brave Marduk," he mocked menacingly. "We sense the lack of power that flows through your veins. Your godly blood has abandoned you and you have no more power over us. You wasted the sheer power of creation that you stole from our mother's body when you enriched these lands. Such borrowed power is now beyond your reach.
"You are weak," declared the scorpion man on his left. "Now leave us."
The slayer of Tiamat glared pitifully at the guardians of the sun. "You will live to regret this," he threatened pitifully at the scoffing arthropods. He couldn't help but cringe at the usage of such a ubiquitous phrase, but it was all he had. He was never good at flowery insults.
"All you god's say that, but few ever make good on their promises." the left scorpion man replied. "So much hubris. So much foolishness."
A pincer slashed at his left side without warning, cutting into the weakened god's side. The obsidian-like blades, now tainted with his blood, had sundered a severe wound to the god causing him to fall over in pain. Marduk lashed out with one of his swords only for the other scorpion-man to lunge and knock it out of his hand, staining it a dark red. The color of his blood.
"You have overstayed your welcome," they hissed. "We have been gracious so far by neglecting to use our stingers. We shall not be so kind again if you do not leave now."
This time Marduk obeyed. A flash of golden light seared the air as Marduk banished himself to the heavens, having refused to swing his swords.
His threats were but empty promises and the scorpion-men knew it. Satisfied, they moved back to their position at the gates ready to continue their roles for the rest of eternity.
They would not support their mother when she inevitably rose up from the saltwater sea, reformed and ready to wreak vengeance on the world.
But neither would they aid in her defeat. They had a new purpose now. A sacred duty that bound them to protect the world. To protect humanity. To protect their prey.
They were the dutiful gatekeepers of the Sun, forced to stand watch for all of eternity.
The world counted on it.
X
One Week Later
Well shit.
That was the first thought that came to Perseus' mind as he witnessed the slow-moving funnel of murderous wind marching towards them on the heels of an army. He stood on the walls of the great city of Uruk, gauging the situation from beyond the front-lines as he slowly inhaled deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
Great, now he had the sudden urge to expel feces. Such was the fate of those men anxiously waiting their turn on the front lines. Such was the fate of those dreading the eve of battle and the knowledge that they would either be returning home with their round shields strapped to their arms or being carried back home on those shields as a rotting corpse.
Gilgamesh and Enkidu were elsewhere, raising up their immediate levies to prepare for the incoming invasion. Their scouts, those that had survived the initial ambush, had reported an invasion force at the border that seemingly came from nowhere. Bolts of lightning and spells of flame had roasted many of their number as they tried to escape, but the most fearful adversary they were facing was the living column of wind that was heading straight for their great city.
Umma had played its hand. The seizure of Lagash was treated as provocation by their greedy king who now came to Uruk with his entire army, determined to raze the great city to the ground.
Perseus cringed at the thought that his treatment of Umma's diplomat might have led to this provocation, but at the end of the day, this invasion force only presented an opportunity. The death of the king of Umma would allow Gilgamesh to seize control of the city with little to no resistance. Sure, such an action would inevitably draw up resentment from the other Sumerian cities, but he doubted that any major armed resistance would spring up.
This would be a defensive conquest at the end of the day provided that Gilgamesh emerged from this battle victorious and unscathed.
Of course, that assumed that the Umu Dabrutu would go down easily. Ever since the Uridimmu, the trio had researched the monstrous children of Tiamat from ancient accounts scribbled in clay tablets and through the consultation of elders who spread the tales through oral tradition. Perseus had even communed once again with Shamash in his dreams to try and siphon off some information about her wretched spawn.
Their powers. Their weaknesses. Their names. Stories from eons past now resided in their brains as they now faced the tornado that was headed their way.
Magic. Of course. The one weakness of the Umu Dabrutu that they knew of outside of the unknown way that Marduk had subdued the beast. There was no natural way to confine it, so the wizards gathered by Umma's king were the only thing standing in the way of the beast.
Kill one of the magicians and the loss of concentration was liable to let the beast loose. In doing so though, the hungry beast would devastate the army of Umma like an injured elephant. The downside, though, was that it was just as likely to rampage into Uruk and destroy everything in its wake.
Uruk had few magicians left. Lagash had none. The king of Umma had wasted centuries worth of accumulated gold and silver in hiring the spellcasters while the remaining Sumerian city states watched on in displeasure without doing a single thing to stop them. They were much more concerned with having amiable relations with the king of Umma while dealing with their own petty squabbles. They couldn't see the threat that was right in front of their eyes.
In fairness, neither did he, otherwise he might have treated the diplomat with a little more tact. Once again, his hubris had potentially cost them.
Then again, the alternative was giving up Lagash. This would've happened regardless.
"Perseus," Gilgamesh had called to him when they had first heard of the approaching swarm. "Enkidu and I will lead the army against the land forces. "We need you to distract the Umu Dabrutu."
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Perseus had mumbled before simply nodding his assent at the king. Logically, he had the best chance at surviving the beast and the various magicians that guided its every movement. He couldn't die as a god. He could only be temporarily dissolved for the next few centuries as the golden dust that made up his form slowly coalesced into a blob at the bottom of Tartarus. It wasn't the best way to go, but he'd live to see a new day.
As much as he hated to admit it, in the grand scheme of things, Gilgamesh and Enkidu were more valuable than he was. They were once in a generation heroes. He was a dime a dozen.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't have some affinity for magic, but any magic that could be used to control the living twister was far beyond his reach.
Perhaps if he could summon… no, not yet. He'd have to at least do some work to see if it was possible to beat the creature before he begged a demon for aid. He didn't want to owe the son of Hanbi a favor that the king of the southwest wind could lord over him for years to come.
There was still a chance the creature had some physical, corporeal body at its eye. No one had ever seen the inside of the tornado.
As he eyed Gilgamesh and Enkidu charging forward with their hastily constructed army, he knew it was time to act. Gilgamesh and Enkidu were not relying on tactics at this point. They were going to rely on their own brute strength to carve through the army of Umma as if it were soft butter. They were certainly powerful enough, able to resist severe wounds that could take out normal men, plus their intimidation factor would do wonders to the enemy's morale. They were lucky that the Umma king had charged into battle so haphazardly as well. Clearly, he was relying on the Umu Dabrutu to win the battle for him.
As they stalled the army of Uruk, the tornado would hit them from behind (not sneak up on them, it was way too big for that), causing the army to flee in terror if they didn't want to be thrown around by the suffocating winds. Perseus was the only thing in the way between certain victory and certain death.
Sighing, Perseus teleported himself onto the battlefield, approximately a half a mile in front of the deranged twister.
"Please don't blow me away, please don't blow me away," he murmured as he stalked towards the fearsome beast. The magicians were situated behind and on the flanks of the monstrous twister, far enough away that their magical protections shielded them from the powerful wind, but close enough that they were able to control what little sentience the thing possessed.
His stamina was tested as he felt the winds slowly pick up speed around him, battering his upper body with pebbles and dust particles. He couldn't see clearly through the thick haze of dust that had been lifted up by the torrential winds, but he didn't need to.
All he needed was one good teleport. Right above the eye, into the center of the mass of swirling winds. With any luck, the Umu Dabrutu would turn out to have an actual physical form, the kind that could be killed.
If that failed…. Welp. Hopefully, he wouldn't die. Normally, he'd have tried to come up with a better plan that didn't rely on haphazard luck, but the invasion had been thrust upon them so suddenly. They thought they'd have a few months before they faced another of Tiamat's spawn or, in the best case scenario, Marduk would've dealt with them by then. He didn't expect to have to fight a living whirlwind.
Shards of ice scraped against his body, drawing golden blood, as Perseus bit back curses. The magicians had clearly taken sight of him as he staggered ever closer to his target. They wouldn't be able to use their full power on him, not without losing control over the Umu Dabrutu and effectively dooming themselves in the process, but they could still cause him harm by trying to destabilize him.
Perseus spat out curses as a minor earth tremble knocked him off his feet sending him flying back several precious feet. His quickly summoned knifes dug themselves deep into the ground, allowing him to regain precious footing as he renewed his staggered quest to the center of the tornado.
The tornado swelled in size, seemingly emboldened by the sudden lack of control from the earth-trembling wizard who struggled to regain his footing. The magician was distracted.
It was time to strike. The Umu Dabrutu was a tornado connected to an enormous supercell cloud that was everlasting and would refuse to dissipate as long as the Umu Dabrutu still existed in some form. Perhaps, the Umu Dabrutu was the supercell itself and the tornado was just a byproduct of its machination? Honestly, he didn't know, but the legends always referred to the tornado itself and never the clouds that birthed it.
Perseus sucked in one last breath before exploding into a golden shower of dust. In seconds, he reappeared thousands of meters above the air. His clothes became wet with the condensed water present in the clouds as he willed himself to enter free fall as he began his descent into the center of the tornado.
With a yell that vanished amongst the deafening roar of the whirlwind's winds, he plummeted towards the calm eye of the tornado with the intent on slaying the creature that laid within if such a thing existed.
Well, he would've if such a thing existed.
Contrary to his preconceived notions, tornadoes didn't have an "eye" per say. Instead, there are several small sub-vortices within that wouldn't hesitate to drag any poor, unfortunate, and foolish soul that decided to just teleport into the center of the tornado.
"I'm going to f****** murder Aeolus," he yelled out in a breathelss scream as he felt his body get pierced with dozens of pieces of shrapnel made from rock, wood, and metal. The bastard wind god had lied to him about the internal structure of a twister.
In pain, Perseus managed to sneak a glance downwards into the center of the funnel. Nothing was present. No material, physical form of the monster existed. He had been a fool to rush into things. He was just too damn impulsive.
By now, any mortal would've been dead, but luckily, Perseus was a god and, as such, he had the physiology that would allow him to survive the wounds that the twister afforded him.
Perseus let out an undignified "oomph" as he felt his bones break against the ground, only to start healing again at an accelerated rate, the last vestiges of his inner divine energy being used to rectify the damage wrought on his body because of his mistakes.
As he stood up, groggily from the ground against the howling winds that had tossed him aside. Even now, his eardrums and hair cells were regrowing within the ear, allowing him to regain his senses of proprioception and balance.
A sudden flash of electricity shot out from one of the sides of the tornado. A heated bolt of blue lightning struck him on the chest, sending him flying backwards as he dealt with the agonizing heat that the bolt left in its wake.
Charred flesh and golden ichor were omnipresent on his chest as he once again stood up, his eyes blinking furiously in an attempt to rid itself of the shaky, dizzying worldview it was observing. The tornado surged forward, aimed at the clashing armies of Umma and Uruk, while Perseus was left behind in the dust.
His heart panged against his chest as he felt desperation waft over him. Gilgamesh and Enkidu would be annihilated when it reached them and he couldn't do anything about it.
Perseus would've cursed if he could've done so without inviting more agony. He'd bitten off way more than he could chew.
Fuck it. He'd have to summon Pazuzu and ask, no, beg for assistance. A favor for a favor. The ruler of the southwest wind.
Gods, he was a fool to think that there was going to be some epic, short battle that had the potential to be drawn out for an obscenely long amount of time. Perhaps, though, it was for the best.
Sighing, he clutched the amulet and prepared to send a quick prayer to Pazuzu asking for his intercession. It burned his pride. A god praying to another god for aid. That was a pathetic sign of weakness. Only mortals prayed.
Unfortunately for him, the universe just hated him.
Another blast of electricity struck him in the chest, sending pinpricks of raging electricity surging through his fleshy boody. He screamed as his burns became even more severe as he collapsed once more onto the ground. His hands went to his chest, delicately touching the feathering, fractal patterns that were indicative of a lightning strike.
"Where are you going," a maliciously, melodious voice called out as he struggled to his feet. His whole body ached even as his healing powers went into overdrive, attempting to repair his blood vessels, his skin, and any other body part that was damaged in the surge. More godly energy was going to waste. Soon, he'd be running on fumes.
Blood trickled out of his mouth as he spat viciously on the ground before turning to face his addressor. A dark-skinned man with pale white robes the color of the full moon stood floating in the air. The garbs of one of Umma's sorcerers.
He was human, it seemed, except for the pale white orbs that were his eyes. No pupils. No iris. Just pure whiteness.
"So, you're the fool who thought it wise to jump directly into my tornado," mocked the figure as it floated over to him until it stood only ten feet away.
The figure appeared to glance over him, his smile turning into a disappointed frown as he finished his astute observations. "I really shouldn't be surprised. You don't look like the intelligent type."
Rage began to build up in Perseus at the affront. Sure, he wasn't Metis, but he felt that he had, at least, some brainpower.
He knew his ABC's. The vast majority of the population didn't. That had to count for something.
"Low blow," he bit back as he attempted to make it seem that the insult lacked any effect. It was a fool's errand unfortunately.
The sorcerer simply cocked an eyebrow as he twitched his hand. Instantly, a strong puff of wind struck Perseus' feet, causing him to head plant face first into Mother Gaia.
"Hmm," the sorcerer mused as he suddenly teleported onto Perseus' back. "I wonder if this is how your half-brother Antaeus was conceived? Did he spontaneously emerge from your grandmother's womb during her makeout session with your father or was it a normal birth? I can never tell with you pathetic balls of golden dust and your egregiously disgusting mating habits."
"What are you," he choked out as he felt his head get dizzy. He was being asphyxiated. A mortal sorcerer shouldn't have this much power. The ability to help control the tornado while at the same time sending bolts of lightning at him. It was inconceivable.
"Isn't it obvious," the sorcerer scolded as he knelt down on one knee onto Perseus' back.
"I'm the Umu Dabrutu."
X
The fog was really getting to them. Not the fog of war, per say, but rather the haze that Gilgamesh found himself experiencing. The haze that was to kill or be killed. Chop or be chopped. Flay or be flayed.
A sweaty hand wiped away the dark-red blood that stained his perfect eyelids. It had been a gift from the last soldier that had tried to earn notoriety by killing the great king of Uruk. The bastard had earned an axe to the head for his trouble.
A sharp movement was caught on the periphery of his right eye.
Gilgamesh whipped around and blocked an incoming blow with his round shield before he reached out and grabbed the sorry son of a bitch that had tried to kill him by the head. A single flex of his hand had sent brain matter flying all over the place even as he winced in pain from the skull fragments that had pierced his hand.
He'd live to regret that decision though. As soldiers ran around him, he carefully picked out the larger pieces of bloodied white bone from his tanned skin before retrieving the axe that was still lodged into an attacker's skull.
He may be heavily resistant to blunted objects and powerful blows, but piercing weapons would be his downfall. Unfortunately for him, his dark brown, luscious, magnificent skin wasn't invulnerable.
With a roar, he rallied his men forward, charging once again through the chaotic ranks of battle. His axe and shield swung with abandon, slicing through flesh and bone with the strength of a god behind their strikes. A speartip managed to break through his shield, forcing him to abandon it, but not before he jabbed the front tip of his large axe into the offending soldier's chest. With a yell, he unlinked his broken shield from his arm and launched it at a helmetless spearman, watching with dark satisfaction as it severed the spearman's head from his body before lodging itself into the chest of an unarmored farmer who'd unfortunately been drafted into the army with nothing but a pitchfork to defend himself.
"Savages", the king of Uruk growled to himself. To force farmers and peasants into the fray of battle without giving them the means to protect themselves was wasting lives for no reason. He'd made sure to spend every expense in outfitting his levies with the best leather armor that money could buy. Perhaps that might be enough for them to turn the tide of battle in their favor.
"Incoming," he heard Enkidu yell as he spun around to see a large uprooted tree heading his way. With yet another yell, he dropped the axe and lunged to the side of the tree, ignoring the splinters that pierced his hand as he dug his fingers into the tornado's gift and launched it at the enemy. Three men fell to the poplar tree, but more kept on coming. It was maddening.
"The men are wavering", Enkidu yelled as he pointed to the twister that was fast approaching. Gilgamesh could only nod in resigned agreement. Men would rather run away then take chances with being flanked by both a tornado and an enemy army. It was near certain death.
All he could do, though, was hold the line. Shove some inspiration into his men by performing feats of great heroism.
He needed to do something that only a true hero could do.
Which is why he tore the head off an enemy officer using only his hands. His muscles rippled as he tore through flesh, bone, and sinew and hefted the disembodied head into the warm air that surrounded them.
Enkidu soon followed him. This time disgracing an enemy officer by shoving his hands underneath the enemy's hips to the place where the sun doesn't shine. The officer screamed in pain as Enkidu castrated him in the most "manly" way possible, holding up the bloodied genitalia for all to see.
The surrounding enemies quivered in fear at the sight. Better to be dead than castrated like a dog.
Insanity. That was the sole emotion present in the wicked faces of Mesopotamia's strongest strongmen. They bellowed out war cries as they held their trophies high into the air even as they stood taller than any other man on the battlefield.
They were giants among men and to the uninformed, uneducated eye of the average peasant soldier, they might be just as cannibalistic as their supposed brethren.
It was the only logical conclusion of course. Human flesh contained within itself a lot of magical energy. How do you think Umma's sorcerors got the power to control a twister?
It wasn't through decades of hard work and study, one could tell you that much.
To the average peasant soldier who'd seen the vile thyestean acts performed on the dead bodies of their relatives, it was only logical that Gilgamesh and Enkidu obtained their powers because they had a similar proclivity towards long pig. What other, possible explanation could there be?
Definitely not the idea that they were just blessed by the gods, the soldiers would've thought. The gods clearly favored Umma above all other city-states. Why would they bless Uruk's king and not Umma's?
The sorcerors who could've fought the duo were railing in the twister. Thus, it was the average peasant against two supposedly cannibalistic monsters with the strength of gods.
Needless to say, just as the citizens of Uruk were beginning to waver at the sight of the whirlwind, so too were the citizens of Umma who were facing an eternity of consuming dry dust in Kur while Gilgamesh and Enkidu feasted on their decaying flesh with forks and knives.
Oh, and don't forget a spoon. How could you scoop out the delectable eyeballs and enjoy a rich, fatty brain matter soup without a spoon? Such a thing was unthinkable.
And so the peasant soldiers of Umma fled from Gilgamesh and Enkidu whenever they drew near. They didn't want their corpses desecrated by individuals with such a vile affliction
That didn't necessarily mean they stopped their onslaught. The wrath of the king of Umma was vicious indeed towards deserters, though, it was no less than what Gilgamesh would do to the cowards in his army. They just endeavored to fight the soldiers around the king rather than the king himself.
Still, that didn't stop Gilgamesh and Enkidu from seeking them out regardless. Blood lust wasn't something that you could just quench on a whim after all.
Heads flew off necks. Limbs were severed from bodies. Another poor soldier got impaled through the anus on a particularly sharp speartip.
It was a bloody massacre. Still, Gilgamesh's eyes swerved around the battlefield looking for his target. Was the King of Umma so cowardly as to not lead his men from the front lines?
Gilgamesh's sword slammed into the lungs of an unfortunate nobleman, the resulting cries of anguish ignored as he proceeded to rip the sword out and slam it into the head of a child soldier.
He was no more than 16 years of age.
There.
Hidden in the sea of men stood his adversary. The king of Umma fought furiously with his bronze sickle sword, slicing through men as if they were slices of bread. The enemy king wasn't a coward. He could give him that much.
Their eyes locked. The king of Umma's eyes shone with fear as he took in the monstrosity that was the king of Uruk.
Gilgamesh smiled.
X
"Let go of me you piece of shit," Perseus wheezed out as he struggled to dig his sharp fingernails into the Umu Dabrutu's eyes.
"Go ahead," the creature chuckled as he summoned a powerful gust of wind to push against Perseus' grabby hands. "It won't do anything."
"You see, I don't have a physical form. I don't even have a spirit form. I simply am. This poor magician tried to open up to me to control me."
The possessed sorcerer grinned a wicked smile, his eyes flashing with pure glee and elation. "Instead, I controlled him. I control all of them."
"If you're in control," Perseus coughed, "why do you follow the King of Umma. Why not turn on him for the sin of trying to control a beast as… noble as you."
The creature let out an amused huff as he contemplated the god before him. "Flattery? Seriously? That's the best you can come up with." A malicious gleam sprouted in his red eyes as he the possessed sorcerer pushed his face onto Perseus' until their noses touched. The cold breath left droplets of moisture that poisoned his face with an unpleasant sogginess as the Umu Dabrutu took perverse pleasure in creeping the god of snakes out.
"Did you know that some individuals take pleasure in the high that comes after surviving asphyxiation. The sense of euphoria that comes with the experiences makes them carve it."
"Let's see if you're one of them."
Instantly, Perseus' free hands gasped his throat as he gasped desperately for the life-giving oxygen that had suddenly vanished from the area around him. The Umu Dabrutu laughed gleefully as its victim suffocated to death.
Gods were not invincible. A severe enough wound, being thrown into a volcano, or, in Perseus' case, being deprived of oxygen was all that was needed to send a god's essence back to their respective underworlds.
Perseus did not want to venture around Tartarus for a few centuries. It wouldn't be pleasant to say the least.
Sneakily, Perseus' left hand snaked down towards his amulet as the possessed sorcerer continue to spit spittle out of his mouth as he met him face to face. The dark red eyes shown poisonously as the demonic entity inside tormented him with the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to survive this.
Perseus' hand clutched the cold amulet. Instantly, spasms of electricity shook his fingernails, causing eruptions of sensation as his neurons cried out in agony. "Please, Pazuzu," he reluctantly prayed. "Please, come to my aid."
Darkness soon met him as his vision went from blurred to darkness. He was at peace now, he thought as he entered the harmonious state that was unconsciousness. He would be freed from his burden.
At least, he had tried.
And, then, all of a sudden, he had regained his vision. He gasped for air as he saw the four-winged monstrosity that was Pazuzu in all of his glory. His human head had been exchanged with that of a ravenous beast with bright red eyes and snarling facial features. Poisonous spittle ran down the bottom half of his ragged, furry cheek as it fell to the ground with an audible hiss.
The possessed sorcerer laid at the taloned feet of the wind demon, his neck snapped at a 45 degree angle.
"What was that," said Perseus groggily as he hastened to a more appropriate bipedal stance as his body struggled to reorient itself in the physical world.
"That, my friend, was your deus ex machina," deadpanned Pazuzu as he coyly looked off in the distance. "It's probably going to happen again in the future, but let's not get too carried away with ourselves, hmm? You aren't that lucky."
Perseus scowled.
"Thanks for answering my call," he said as he grudgingly offered his thanks to Pazuzu while glancing at the roaring tornado. Was it… moving away? From the battlefield?
Hesitantly, he glanced at Pazuzu as he pointed silently to the fleeing column of wind. The demon king just smirked. "In a way, the Umu Dabrutu is just a…. how should I put this… a wannabe me."
The demon king smirked menacingly.
"Surely, you noticed the demon-like rant full of mockery that he spat in your face while he held his life in your hands. The "I'm better than you and you know it" type attitude that is intrinsic in most demons because, well, let's face it, we are better than you?"
"And that translates to it fleeing from you, because?"
Pazuzu just scoffed in amusement as he took a gander at the fighting armies that were annihilating each other in the distance. "Long ago, during the first war against Tiamat, the creature challenged me to a one on one duel for the title of "demon king of the winds" despite it not even being a demon in the first place. The pretender lost. Badly. Needless to say, it isn't eager for a rematch."
"Marduk doesn't like to talk about how he beat the Umu Dabrutu," continued Pazuzu as he proceeded to scratch at his taloned fingernails. Shavings of nail fragments fell to the grass where they disappeared from view, never to be seen again. In all likelihood, they dissipated to join that random ship that those northern gods in Scandza believed would sail at the end of days.
Or perhaps they would just be used as fertilizer. Who knows. It's not like sentient creatures ever deemed it necessary to note down the resting places of their dearly departed keratin matrixes.
"As you can imagine, its because he didn't. I simply let him take the credit in exchange for him doing me a small favor. After all, what god really wants to admit that a demon did all the dirty work?"
Pazuzu looked sharply at Perseus as he opened his mouth. "No." Perseus proceeded to close his mouth, slightly annoyed that the demon wouldn't divulge the information of what that particular favor was.
"In any case, I'm just going to leave," Pazuzu dismissed as a dark mist started to cover his body. "Remember. You owe me for all this."
"We'll be in touch."
Perseus scowled in response as the demon disappeared from view before he turned his attention towards the battlefield. With the threat of the tornado gone because Pazuzu's presence had simply scared the shit out of the cowardly beast, he could deal with the army. Umma would be destroyed today.
At the cost of another favor though. He hated being in the debt of others.
X
As it turned out, Umma's army wasn't utterly destroyed that day. Only its king was. Upon seeing the defenseless king of Umma, Gilgamesh had bounded towards the bastard and fought him in a messy, one-sided duel. The king's incompetence at gauging the poltiical landscape of surrounding kingdoms was grossly overshadowed by his own competence in hand-to-hand combat. His personal guard had been wiped out with several blows from Gilgamesh's axe and short sword.
The king of Uruk wasn't even gifted a death befitting of a king at the hands of such noble and prestigious weapons. Instead, Gilgamesh simply thrust his hand through the king's rib cage, bone pulverizing in the wake of the punch even as small bits of bone breached the skin of his hand.
As the king collapsed on the floor and Gilgamesh howled in victory, the remaining soldiers simply dropped their arms and yelled for surrender.
All in all, the entire battle scenario was a bit anticlimactic, but Perseus supposed he'd have to get used to such things. Epic, drawn-out conflicts only happened in fiction. Besides, he was sure that the propaganda machine that was oral storytellers would gladly spin their own boisterous accounts of this grand victory over Umma. Perhaps they'd talk about how a flying boar raced across the battlefield as a steed for the wildman Enkidu. Perhaps they'd talk about how Gilgamesh had caused an actual 7.0 magnitude earthquake when he stomped on the ground.
Exaggerations like these always hid the truth behind fanciful illustrations of glory. Never did they account for the sheer brutality that such battles would inevitably leave in their wake upon both the physical body and the mental psyche of the battle's participants.
At the end of the day, if this battle wasn't forgotten, it would be seen as a gross exaggeration which was a pity, considering the literal living tornado that plagued the battlefield.
X
Byblos
"It didn't have to be this way, brother," he proclaimed mournfully as he glanced down at the dead tree that had once housed his brother's body. Plain, brown branches spotted with dark smudges were all that was left of the tree that now possessed a coffin-shaped gouge within its decayed trunk.
He remembered that day well. When his sister had found the remains of her husband hidden in the last place he'd ever thought she'd look. The Levant was supposed to be a place filled with foreign gods, hostile to the divinities residing in the Black Lands. The fact that his sister had managed to find the skeleton in his closet was nearly unthinkable, but then again, she always did have a penchant for getting her way through her abuses of magic.
"Such things should've been beneath us," he reminisced as he clenched his right hand. Pain coursed through his arm as dribbles of golden blood spurred forth from his palm, but such pain was welcome in the face of the emotional pain that was violating his soul at this very moment.
He'd been his brother. He remembered the days that they were born, when their mother struggled against the Sun's decrees in order to give birth to the next generation of gods on the five epanongeal days. Their mother's suffering was only alleviated by the closeness of her children. The five of them had been inseparable back then. They loved each other dearly. No pain. No plots. No betrayals. They were just…. family.
"I loved you brother. I adored you, I trusted you" he cried out as flecks of salty tears emerged from his slanted eyes. Gods, he should've been stronger than this.
He'd done what needed to be done. He shouldn't feel guilty about this. He'd done what his honor had demanded of him. His brother should've known better. The two of them should've known better. They shouldn't have betrayed him like this. He'd been there for them through thick and thin and this, this, was how they had repaid him.
No, his brother deserved his fate. He deserved to be dismembered. He deserved to get his fucking penis eaten by a random fish. It was justice. It was necessary.
Still.. he felt so much pain. So much anger. So much grief. Tears streamed from his eyes as he crouched down on the ground, letting himself grieve for once. Just once before the slates would have to be wiped clean once again. It didn't have to be this way, but his brother had forced his hand.
Was his anger too much? No, he thought. No. It was justified. His brother had committed to the irredeemable. He had trusted him and his brother had spat in his face.
"I would've done anything for you, brother. We could've stopped this cycle. Stopped the unending cycle of betrayal. Of father against son. Of son against father. Of brother against brother."
"You could've ruled in peace with me, me, as your right hand man," he whispered. "We could've formed Kemet into the greatest civilization known to man. Ruling side by side as our parents once did."
The unknown-animal headed god took in a deep breath as he finished his cathartic goodbye speech. The salted tears of regret and heartbreak flowed past down his black cheek as he moved to turn away from the great tree.
"But, then you just had to sleep with my wife. You just had to make love to her and leave your flower in her bed, in our bed. You just had to make me question whether my son was actually my son!" Previously suppressed rage overtook grief as he bellowed out in rage. Betrayal of the worst kind. This must have been what his grandmother had felt when his father had forced himself upon her. Such rage. Such pain. Such despair.
"You dishonored my wife," he spat, allowing little saliva to leave his mouth. His lips were already cracked and his mouth was bone dry from the dehydration that he had succumbed to in his mourning state.
"You bespoiled my bed! You betrayed me - after all that I have done for you! And now I will take everything from you dear brother. Mark my words, your name will be stricken from history and forgotten for all time. Never again, will your progeny inherit the throne of Egypt, brother. I will be there to stop them. I will be there to end them."
The fluttering of wings broke him out of his rageful stupor as he turned his plague mask-esque face towards the sky. A hardened gaze hid the hatred that boiled within him as he growled at the sight of his adversary.
"Set!" called out his rival as the god of falcons flew through the air with his black-feathered wings. "I'll kill you for what you've done to our family!" Set's animalistic mouth transformed into that of a human's before it took on a sly, despicable grin as he let himself forget. All grief forgotten. All regret vanquished. Only a fierce desire for vengeance remained.
Our family. What a joke.
Gone was the betrayed husband. Now stood the vanquisher of Apophis. Woe to those who would attempt to stand in his way. He was the desert hand. The nourisher of life and the bringer of drought.
"Come and get me, nephew," he mocked vitriolically as he transformed himself into the shape of a massive, blood-red Nile Crocodile that dove into the nearby, raging waters. Horus screeched furiously as he dove after the murderous god of chaos by plunging into the water's head-first, transforming himself into a raging hippo that galloped after his uncle with a ferocious intent. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to end him. For his father. For his mother.
They say vengeance is a sucker's game. So much pain, so much suffering, so much never-ending collateral damage, and it was all for what?
Horus and Set. Two sides of the same coin. Intertwined in a chaotic war that had lasted for decades.
Thousands dead. All because Osiris and Nephthys had succumbed to their carnal passions on that one, fateful day.
Ghouls: Foul creatures from Arabian folklore that enjoy feeding on the dead.
Peacock Angel: Also known as Melek-Taus, the Peacock Angel the leader of the seven divine angels that are loyal to God in the Yazidi faith. In Yazidi lore, the Peacock Angel refused to bow to Adam believing that he could only bow before God and not to some being made of dust. This is interpreted as a test of loyalty. This mirrors Judeo-Christian legends about "Iblis" aka "Satan" who refused to bow before Adam and was thus cast out of heaven. This has led to the unfortunate persecution of the Yazidi by both Christians and Muslims under accusations of "devil" worship.
Contrary to what one might think, despite having mentions of "God" and "Angels", the Yazidi faith is not considered an Abrahamic Religion, but are an Indo-Iranian religion more closely related to Zoroastrianism, though, there probably is some syncretism going on with Islam as well. Despite the fact that it isn't an "Abrahamic Religion," the prominent mention of Adam in Yazidi lore is the reason I've tied some Yaizidi lore into the Judeo-Christian mythos in this work.
As another little tidbit, according to some sources I've read, the Yazidi believe that they are descended from Adam like all of us are, but unlike us, they are not descended from Eve. They believe that their forefather was birthed from Adam's seed via parthenogenesis and not through intercourse with Eve.
Girtabillu: Half-scorpion, half-men spawn of Tiamat who will encounter Gilgamesh later on during the king of Uruk's quest for immortality (don't worry, we'll get there eventually.)
Umu Dabrutu: Another one of Tiamat's spawn. Inspiration for this creature's form was "borrowed" from Smite because the idea was so cool.
Scandza: Essentially Scandinavia. Scandza is the term used by Jordanes who lived in 500 AD and Scatinavia was used by Pliny the Elder a few hundred years prior. Considering this is a good 3000 years after the time-period this story supposedly takes place in, I decided to take a few liberties. Also, that ship of fingernails and toenails mentioned briefly is Naglfar.
The Osiris and Nephthys incident: Set is often portrayed as a villain (can you believe it) who overthrows his brother because he's jealous and wants to rule. Needless to say, that perspective is kinda overdone imo. I much prefer the account of Nephthys seducing Osiris while in the guise of Osiris. Set discovers this affair when he recognizes a flower that Osiris would often wear on the floor. Needless to say, such a betrayal causes him to murder his brother and seize the throne.
Sure, it wasn't the right thing to do, but at least you feel a bit more sympathetic to Set's reasonings right?
There's also the fact that Anubis is sometimes listed as Osiris' son with Nephthys rather than Set's. Kinda adds another dimension to the whole issue.
Another interesting tidbit is that this story is taking place around the time of the first or second dynasty of Egypt. This is before the Great Pyramid's are built (that's the fourth dynasty). One of the reason's I chose to include the Osiris/Set conflict is because of an interesting tidbit I learned about a Third Dynasty pharaoh named Khasekhemwy. In his serekh, essentially a drawn rectangular box with some additional images that acted as his royal name, the pharoah made the unusual decision to include both the symbols of Horus and Set in his name (unusual since most pharaohs only included the Horus falcon hieroglyph), which Wikipedia relates may have occurred due to a civil war between the followers of Horus and Set, hence, my decision to have the civil war between the two gods start a dynasty or two earlier.
Gugulanna: Apparently some accounts link this first husband of Ereshkigal with the Bull of Heaven whose reasonably important in the Epic of Gilgamesh for… reasons that I will not disclose at this moment.
