A/N
Yes, dear readers, you read right. Some Old Ones still exist ( or rather, I honestly believe they do ) and in my book, their involvement suits the story just fine. And now, we're at another important milestone. Angronius has no other way to go except back to Nuceria, to meet his fate on top of that high mountain where we know Big E fucked up big time.
Okay, let's get to it.
}!{
By the time Sonjita reached the foot of the mountain, the battle had already reached its end.
Angronius turned a slaughter of rebel slaves into a slaughter of Nucerian scum. When the Red Maiden descended, there wasn't much left of the 5th Legion vanguard. The lion, his pride threatened by his former captors, unleashed a frightening storm of teeth that grinded even the mightiest of warriors among them to red paste. His followers rallied to him, transforming into a powerful wave of defiance that put the Nucerian war machine to halt. And when the lion roared...
...all who stood before him trembled.
"Fall back!" A Nucerian officer, a battle-hardened centurion accustomed to fighting savages in the Stygian frontier, saw too late that facing the gladiator king in open battle was suicide. "Fall back! This battle is lost!"
He didn't have to give the order. The legion was in full retreat, back to the safety of their garrison in Vendhayana. They wouldn't get far, for the wrathful Angronius did not give them his leave to go. He hurtled through the fearful masses of legion footmen, their auxiliaries and battle-tanks, with the impossible speed of a god of war. Gorefather and Gorechild cleaved from left to right, sowing the green sea plenty with the blood of the slain. Their retreat was slow, as though the bones in their legs suddenly turned to lead.
It was as if the ghosts of the dead Stygians who were slaughtered long ago in that very valley claimed their final act of vengeance against their enemies.
The former gladiators of Nuceria, their appetites whetted by the sudden turn of the tide of battle, fell upon the leftovers scattered in their leader's wake. No man was to be left alive, all who were within reach of their blades and guns were to be killed. The Nucerians couldn't leave their former slaves alone, they crossed the Sodian Sea to ensure they would never enjoy a life of freedom.
Sonjita beheld the glorious carnage with wicked glee, she reveled in the chance to slaughter more of the invaders even if it was to ride down their fleeing stragglers. Her dune cat yipped, then charged into the ruined forest with its rider. Her sword painted a red masterpiece along the crude canvas of the battlefield around her, as did Angronius. Together, the two artists made short work of the routed legion and delivered swift victory for the freedmen.
"The day is ours!" Rissio cried, retrieving his spear after skewering one of the legion centurions. His joyful cry was echoed by a hundred grateful warriors. Many of their brothers and sisters fell in the first attack. But if it were not for Angronius' timely intervention, many more would've been killed.
Regardless, the gladiator king himself was not at all happy with how things turned out.
As his people cheered and celebrated their victory over the Nucerian vanguard, Angronius walked back into the ruins of his home and started digging through the rubble. Later, he found the remains of his faithful war hound. Brave Etrusca, slain by the hand of an enemy most foul, deserved more than to be left as refuse upon the earth. So Angronius prepared to bury his friend. He found the thing that was once known as Cannicus, and he too prepared a burial for his corpse.
There was no malice in Angronius' heart, for even after all he suffered he was still a man of honor. He did not forget that Cannicus was once part of the gladiator brotherhood. He was as much a victim as he, twisted by Nucerian cybernetics and reduced to something worse than a slave. Angronius struck the chains from him, only to be replaced by something else.
A small crowd of former gladiators gathered around their king as he dug two graves and respectfully buried the two corpses. Among them were his lieutenants Rissio and Lucretia. Angronius was aware of the reason for their gathering, but he chose to put off the discussion for as long as he could. They were going to ask what his decision concerning the Nucerian threat would be. If they were to prepare for war, or to simply dig in and wait for another attack. Either way, they were more than willing to stand by his decision.
Sonjita, as always, did not share in his patience. Ever the firebrand that she was, she didn't even wait for him to finish the final rites before addressing the gladiator king on the matter that she felt was long overdue.
"Have your senses finally returned?" She said to Angronius, "Are you going to stand by and let the Empire gather its strength and overwhelm your people? Will you wait until they are either dead or back in chains before you act?"
"Still your fucking tongue-" Lucretia began, only to be interrupted by Angronius.
"No, the Red Maiden speaks the truth." The gladiator king replied, his disposition coming as a welcome surprise to Sonjita. "It has become clear to me that Nuceria will not stop until we are either for the afterlife or back in bondage. It was foolish of me to think that they will leave us in peace. No, such a time cannot be ours until the Empire is all but dust- only then will we be truly free."
He turned to the ruined house, fetched his old armor from the half-buried chest he always kept in the living room. Then, he tore his garments and put on his armor, shedding the guise of a simple farmer for the thing he was born to be. A warrior without peers, a slayer of leviathans, and soon to be the conqueror of an empire.
But even a conqueror needs an army to get things done.
Ionos approached him and said, "I and my brethren are more than willing to join you in this endeavor, brother. But I must advise caution. That which has made Stygians strong is lost to us. Ours is the might of steel and of magic, but the latter we now sorely lack. One cannot endure long without the other."
Angronius turned his gaze to the mixed multitude. There were no warlocks among them, no masters of magic. Acraesius made sure of that before he left the Freelands. Now, only men and women with nothing but the steel in their hands and their own flesh to see them through battle remained. Whatever edge they once had over the Nucerians had long dulled.
"The only one who knows the secrets of the Empyrean is my mother. She is broken, I know, but there might yet be hope for her." Ionos paused to think, then offered a solution. "You have climbed the holy mountain, sought the aid of the Red Goddess..."
"It is a noble quest, Ionos, but Minerva's wounds lie beyond flesh alone..."
"I know, but it is only because her world is shrouded in darkness. Let her see the light once more, let her see that redemption is at hand."
It was a difficult task that Ionos was asking him to undertake. It would be far easier for Angronius to ignore the disgraced warmother's plight, to march on without her. Such a thought crossed his mind, although another made him hesitate. He pitied her, and as much as Angronius fancied himself to be a natural-born beast of war, there was room for pity in his heart. Also, he would do right by Ionos if he helped Minerva rise out of the maddening cesspit she had mired herself in.
"I can only try, brother. This is the only promise I can give you." The gladiator king said.
Mt. Khyaltuwa
Polgara opened her eyes for the first time in days, then rose up halfway as her swollen belly prevented her from sitting upright. Instinctively, her hand touched the spot where she remembered the horrid gash that dreadful thing put on her. The pain was long gone, there was no wound. Her baby was safe, just like her.
Angronius was gone, he left her in the strange lizard-woman's care.
"Oh, you're finally awake!" The Red Goddess exclaimed from across the room. Scáthach was busying herself with preparing some stew on the pot she conjured out of a pile of burnt incense. There was no fire burning under the pot, yet it boiled the stew as though there was one. The whole temple smelled of salted bread and leeks, causing Polgara's belly to stir with hunger.
"Here, I'm certain you're famished." She offered her a steaming bowl of the soup and a piece of the salted bread.
Polgara wolfed down on the food, throwing aside all highborn etiquette she'd been raised to uphold as she devoured the bread and stew. When she had finished her meal, she asked after her husband, who had gone for quite some time. "Where has Angronius gone?"
"He left to help your people fend for themselves." Scáthach replied, "And judging from the lull of the noise below, I believe he succeeded."
Later, the man himself appeared from the edge of the mountain peak. This time, he was clad in armor and was ready to go to war. His impressive form never ceased to amaze all who gazed upon him. Polgara felt that same awe the first time she saw him fight in the coliseum, but she also felt afraid of what was to come. Even as her husband went and embraced her, she was worried now that the slaughter would never end.
Their enemies had come for her lion, threatened his woman and his pride. Blood will be spilled. But there was something he had to do first, a final gift for the people of Stygia. "Scáthach, I am bound for war."
The Red Goddess looked at him with sad but understanding eyes, as a weary mother would acquiesce to her son's stubborn ways. It was no fault of his that war followed him like his own shadow, it was simply the way things were. If there was one way to stop the Nucerians, it was to take the fight to them- to end their reign and their lust for conquest.
"But before I go, there is something I would ask of you." The gladiator king said, "There is a woman among the Stygians, a warmother who has once led her people to fight against the Nucerians."
"This woman is known to me, as is her plight." Scáthach replied, "Her people wanted to bring her here, some time ago, but she would not go with them."
"There... there may be hope for her yet."
"No."
Scáthach raised her hands and gestured to the temple around her, "This place, my home, is a place for broken things. I mend what has been damaged, speak words of wisdom to those who need it, and bring life back to what is dead. And yet, some things are beyond my reach."
Angronius frowned, not quite understanding what she meant. "Like what?"
Scáthach drew close and touched his chest, "The soul. This is Minerva's affliction, and she does not want to be saved from it. One cannot cure the diseased if it does not want to be cured."
"Will you at least let me try?" The gladiator king asked, "If not to save a grieving widow from her sorrow, then to fulfill a promise to a man I now hold as my brother?"
Scáthach fell silent, her eyes turned away as she thought long and hard on what Angronius said. She reached for something hidden behind her robes, then pulled out a spool of shimmering gold cosmic thread, the same otherworldly strands she used to bind Polgara's wounds. "Take this, weave a length of cloth from it and cover her eyes. She was forced to witness all she had built crumble before she was sentenced to languish in eternal darkness. Free her from her prison, see if hope will take root."
Angronius received the gift and bowed his head respectfully, "Thank you."
As they turned to leave, Scáthach waved them goodbye. "Come again, if you're able. My doors are always open to you."
Like the first time they climbed the mountain, Angronius came prepared with a rope bound with soft rags to keep them from cutting into Polgara's flesh as he secured her to his back. Then, he descended slowly back the way he came. Down and down, to the congregating masses awaiting him at the foot of the holy mountain.
"You are quiet, my love." He said as he shifted his footing from one overhang to the next. "Are you not happy to see all is well?"
"Well? Things will never be well, Angron." Polgara said sadly, clinging tight to his neck as the high winds battered against them from all sides. "Not while the threat of war looms overhead. Now, we all teeter at the edge of the blade."
"Is it any different from when we were fleeing across the sea? Why should your heart be troubled now?"
"Because then, we didn't have a child to worry about. And let me tell you this in case you have forgotten, the child is coming soon."
"I am well aware." Angronius rumbled, "And yet, our enemies will not care if it comes are not. They will not stand idle, for our very existence is an affront to the Empire."
"But to have our child born in the midst of this war, what kind of life is that?" Polgara argued.
"The right kind of life. The only kind of life." Her husband declared, stopping to glance back at the sorceress. "This world is one of blood and pain. Our child must know this from the day it is born. You and I must never hide this, for to do so is unjust. Do you understand, my love?"
Polgara closed her eyes, letting a single tear trickle down her face. "Yes."
Satified, the gladiator king and his wife continued their journey downward. They made quickly for the foot of the mountain, for there was much they needed to do before they moved to strike back at their oppressors. They needed to heal the warmother, in exchange for her help- her secrets of the Warp. For but one brief moment, Angronius considered asking Scáthach for her own secrets, to use the Red Goddess for his own ends. Such a thought was quickly struck from his mind, for the gladiator king knew better than to force a giver of life to use her powers to take it.
No, he was no Nucerian dog to stoop so low. He would do things right, the way he knew how.
Two Days Later
Sonjita put her sword to the stone and ruthlessly scraped the blade until all of the bluntness turned sharp. Her eyes were dark, betraying her sour mood.
The men of the ruined citadel avoided her, having seen her wrath in days past when they stood against the 5th Legion. The women, however, looked upon her with pride. For here was a woman, scarred by the Nucerians as they were but refused to remain a broken thing. She took her pain, bound it tight and made it her armor.
Now, nothing and no one could touch her.
She was chafing, the wait gnawed at her like a starving dog on a dry bone. The gladiator king was slow in his preparations, and the Red Maiden wondered if he was getting cold feet about the matter. When she finally felt that she could no longer sit around idle, Sonjita rose up and sought out Angronius herself. She found him among his allies, heading towards the old temple where the disgraced warmother sat lamenting her fate.
As they stood around talking, Sonjita boldly strode forward and addressed the gladiator king, demanding to know why he lingered still. "Angronius, why do you delay? It has been two days now, and you have made no move against our enemies? What is the meaning of this?"
Polgara stood beside him, bearing a shimmering veil of bright golden cloth. She spoke on behalf of her husband, for his annoyance was robbing him of his voice. "The Red Goddess Scáthach has seen fit to give Warmother Minerva back her sight. Her aid in the coming war will benefit us all. Have patience, Sonjita, I beg of you. We will ride out soon enough."
Angronius turned to Ionos, "Come, brother. Your mother has dwelled too long in the shadows. Let us see her to the light once more."
Ionos nodded, leading the way to the temple. There, they found Minerva where she always was- grieving over the stone sarcophagus of her long dead husband. The poor broken thing did not resist her son's hands as he removed her from the altar, nor did she recoil when Polgara gently placed the golden cloth over her ruined eyes.
"W-What are you doing?" Minerva murmured softly, whatever remained of her sanity slowly stirring awake as she felt the firm hands of her kinsmen upon her.
"Steady, mother." Ionos reassured her, taking her hand in his as he guided her outside.
The cloth did its work, returning life to long dead tissues and coaxing the scarred flesh to reform into what once was. Slowly, light pierced the dark world of Minerva. The maddening miasma of despair lifted like a curtain as for the first time in years- she could see again. At first, the world of light was a mix of blurred faces and shadows. Then, a clearer picture formed before her.
An all too familiar scene of destruction and carnage. She was in the middle of a city built by a god, whose bloody work in the battlefield around them remained as testament to his power. Here, Minerva's heart seized with mad joy. It wasn't just the miracle of her sight returning that roused her from her stupor, it was the glorious sight of seeing so many Nucerians dead before her.
And to see her son again, the only family she had left, it was more than enough to break her heart. The old warrior queen embraced Ionos tightly as though it was the first time they met after that horrid day. The crowd of onlookers grew as they beheld the spectacle.
As Minerva squeezed her son tightly to her body, she glanced up at the giant standing close to the threshold of the old temple. The war god who restored her people's dignity, as well as hers.
"Who are you that stands among the damned?" She asked.
"I am Angronius, and I have need of your knowledge of the arcane arts, noble warmother." The war god replied, "I am bound for war, to forever lift the iron hand of Nuceria from the Freelands- and the world entire."
Minerva knew those words. She said them herself a lifetime ago, back when the kingdoms and tribes of Stygia remained as ever divided. Her words united the fires of their hatred into one, her words brought great promise but was come undone. "Surely you have heard the tale- my tale? Nuceria is much more than a single legion. It is the Maw incarnate, and its wrath cannot be stayed."
"Surely you have heard my tale, good woman. I am the Slayer of the Maw. I offer you blood and fire, the destruction of your enemies and the freedom your kin so desire. I will not force you to come, I can only ask."
Angronius turned to the Stygians, those who had doubted him or had never before witnessed his power. "What say you all? Will you follow me to war? Will you follow me to hell?"
The Stygians were quick to give their reply, and they answered. "TO WAR!"
Somewhere among the crowd, a redheaded firebrand grinned maliciously as she imagined the vast battlefields they would soon sow with Nucerian dead. "Now that's more like it."
}!{