Chapter 24: The Love of Worship
As the sun bore down on him once more, Kratos collapsed to the sands. Blood was pouring from the gaping hole in his stomach, his entire being alit with the broiling pain the cursed blade left behind. His eyes were not on the sun, or Khonsu standing over him, they were looking up, straining to remain on Freya.
She was crawling towards him, stifling back grunts of aching, struggling to make her way to his side. The sun's light now revealed the deep slash across her back and one of her wings. Tears were welling in the corner of her eyes, and she was calling out to him, saying some words his ears could not process.
Khonsu stood, holding an arm over his brow to gaze up at the changed, afternoon sky. Slowly, a single feather broke loose from his plumed forearms and gently wafted to and fro towards the ground before his face. "No…No, no..not like this. Not already.." he panickedly whispered as his wings spread wide and he took off headed towards the east. A few feathers softly tumbled through the wind in his wake.
Darkness was biting at the corners of Kratos' mind now, his body succumbing to the wounds that would not heal and blood that did not return. The last thing he saw as his mind went dark was Freya's outstretched hand reaching for his cheek..
The spartan remained there for a while, simply floating in the black recesses of whatever his mind was doing. He was not dead, but he was not fully alive either. Then, words began to echo out from the void that engulfed him. Phrases he remembered being spoken, and some that he did not. Violent, enraged words, that sent the familiar shudders of power and bloodthirst coursing through him.
Athena is dead because of the rage that consumes you, Kratos. What more will you destroy?
The hands of death could not defeat me. The sisters of fate could not hold me. And you will not see the end of this day. I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!
Put as much distance between you and the truth as you want, it changes nothing..there is one unavoidable truth you will never escape…You cannot change. You will always be a monster.
Your suffering will never end…Ghost of Sparta…
What do you even know of godhood? In your lifetime has anyone ever worshiped you? Ever prayed to you? Can you even imagine that kind of love?
Kratos felt his fist clenching, his eyes burning, his tattoos glowing… The rage of being unable to stop Khonsu, regret for not telling Freya how he felt, not getting to see his son become a man.
Even wounds of the past simmered back to the surface of his mind. What his father had done, Ares, Athena.. he had always been victim to the cruel games and deceptions of gods, as well as sewing his own torments as well. A heart in his chest was pounding like a hammer upon steel, and after a few beats Kratos realized it was his own.
Well, I must still be alive, for now.
Then, a softer, younger voice resonated out from the shadows.
Lord Kratos…
The spartan turned, unable to see anything in the pitch black that surrounded him. He closed his eyes, slowed his breath, practicing the techniques Tyr had shown him years before. The anger that had been consuming him only seconds before dissipated instantly. Focusing solely on the voice, he was able to find it. Suddenly, the darkness was gone, and he stood in a cramped room over a bed.
The room was very small, with a little cot in the corner and barely any room to move around in. It was nighttime, as the moon's light cascaded in through the small window showed. In the bed under the covers was a little girl. She couldn't be older than eight or so, and she had her hands clasped as she gently whispered.
"Lord Kratos, thank you for saving my mother and I from the troll. Thank you for keeping the people of my town safe. I hope that wherever you and Queen Freya are you are well and safe. Thank you for everything you have done for us. We had supper tonight, some kind of food I've never had before. Mother says it was sent from somewhere south of us because you're helping them. Thank you for the many blessings you have bestowed upon us."
Kratos blinked, and the room was gone from his sight. He now stood in everflowing, sunlit fields of grass stretched as far as the eye could see. From behind him, he heard a familiar voice.
"You seem to make a habit of getting your ass kicked, father."
Turning, the breathtaking sight of his grown daughter came into view. She was smirking, her arms folded across her chest.
"Where did you learn such language? Your mother never spoke in such a way," he uttered, confused as to how he had returned to this place.
Calliope giggled, "Hah, you're right, she didn't." Her smile fell as she looked upon her father staring down at his own hands. "You can't solely rely on rage, father. It's like you told Atreus, you have to be better. You aren't the angry god of war of Olympus anymore, it's time for you to be something more."
For the first time in many years, fear welled up inside him. His fingers were trembling, his heart thundering through his broad chest. "I…I do not know how."
He felt his daughter's warm hand slide along his shoulder. As he turned, he was met with her smiling face, tears lining the bottoms of her eyes. "Yes, you do."
More words breathed out from the shadowed corners of his mind now. Words that were spoken gentler, calmer, with love and care from across his past.
I was wrong Atreus, I was wrong. Open your heart. Open your heart to their suffering…Today, we will be better.
Hope is what makes us strong. It is why we are here. It is what we fight with when all else is lost.
The culmination of love is grief, and yet we love despite the inevitable. We open our hearts to it.
Don't be sorry, father, be better.
I am your partner. If you charge into the storm, I will always be there with you…Your presence, and Atreus', have been one of the greatest blessings of my life.
Rage is your dam, my friend. When you open your heart to their words, the dam bursts open, and you feel the true strength of the river flowing into you. Open yourself to their emotions, hopes, fears, love, let it flow through you.
"Open your heart to them, father. Feel their prayers, feel their love," Calliope whispered, letting her father continue his focus.
More and more voices echoed now. Addressing him as Lord Kratos, King Kratos, my lord, lord of the eight realms, even Allfather. An inaudible multitude of prayers burst forth, resonating in his ears and warming his body. Mortals' prayers asking him for good fortune, protection, thanking him for what he had done for them, for his love, giving him their love.
His fingers and bones trembled once more, only this time not in fear, but power. A power that he had never experienced before, even at the height of his godhood, even when he wielded the Blade of Olympus. Looking down at his palms, he noticed the faintest glowing hue. This was not the inflamed, fiery orange of his rage, this was wholly new. His body glowed with a golden aura that started as a dull shine and grew into a powerful light, coating his entire figure. Kratos felt electrified, his muscles surged with a new strength, his body stood with renewed vigor.
Calliope's loving hand pushed to his chest shook him from the new experience overwhelming him. She leaned in and kissed her father on the cheek, the point where her lips made contact feeling especially warm. "You're a good person, father. You are a god worthy of love. I love you, my mother, Atreus, his mother, and so many others. Now, go get that insufferable prick and show him who the washed up god truly is."
With a wry smirk his daughter vanished from his sight, as did the fields of grass waving about his waist. Blinking awake, he was back in the desert beneath the returned sun. Freya had been atop him trying to revive him, but now she fell back with her eyes open in awe.
"What…What happened? You're..glowing, and not the rage thing you told me about. You're actually glowing," she uttered with her jaw slacked in disbelief.
Kratos stood, glancing around his body to see its state. The wound in his chest was no longer a hole clear through, as flesh had reformed to fill it. Cuts and gashes across his limbs from the cursed scythe had also begun to heal, a feat his usual godly healing ability seemed unable to accomplish. His body felt strong, but still clung to twinges of pain as he moved. Overall though, he felt renewed and ready.
"Rage was not enough.. I, I accepted their love."
He looked down to his partner, and offered her a hand. Her tattooed fingers slid around his as she took the offering and he helped her to her feet. Gently turning her, his hand went to her back, and with a glowing, warm sensation, he sealed over the gaping gash along her skin and wing. Freya herself felt oddly rejuvenated, giving her enough vigor to continue their fight.
"Let's go," was all he stated.
With a nod, her wings spread and she took to the skies. She circled around twice before ducking back low to shout. "There's some type of temple jutted from the sands about two miles to the east, that must have been where he went!"
Kratos felt more strength in his legs than he had in years. As he sprinted across the sands following Freya above, he was moving faster than he had in a long time too. His body shivered with the abundance of power coursing through it. Thoth was not wrong, it did feel like a dam of energy had burst within him.
They arrived at the underground structure's entrance within a few minutes. It was not nearly as grand or beautifully designed as Thoth's palace had been. It was just a square, stone entrance with steps sloping down into the earth. Had Freya not spied it from the air, it was likely they would have never even discovered it.
As they quickly descended the steps and entered the dimly lit halls, Kratos could feel the dark magic permeating the underground structure they were diving deeper into. It filled his lungs, and felt it nipping at the warmth of energy residing within him. The stone corridors just continued in a labyrinth of left and right turns. Each hall looked just like the last. The walls were all dotted with the occasional torch to give a slight amount of light amongst the stifling darkness.
After several minutes of aimlessly running about the maze, they stopped to regroup. Kratos had healed Freya some, but she was still nowhere near full strength. Even with the newly discovered power energizing Kratos for the moment, he knew his body was also severely lacking in endurance, not to mention the various wounds across his figure. They were to find Khonsu quickly, and settle this even faster. The spartan would use this new strength to finish the moon god as quickly as possible going all out with his power. His stamina, and very likely body as well, wouldn't be able to go for another battle of attrition.
"Fuck, these halls all look the same. Who knows how deep into this place he is. If we start bashing walls in to find him we'll just bring the whole thing down on us," Freya groaned as she rested, slumped against the wall.
Kratos kneeled, resting his palm against the cold stones of the floor beneath them. He closed his eyes, and returned to his concentrated breathing. His glowing hand spread its fingers as he strained his senses for some indication of the fleeing moon god. Tyr's words sounded in his head from one of their first meditative training sessions.
"Many believe the trick to this is to try and calm your mind from any thought. Have your mind blank. That is good in most instances, especially for the experienced, but I like to look at it a bit differently. I think rather than letting your mind center on nothing, try centering it on something. Let all of your thoughts shed like rain on a leaf, and keep yourself honed to that one thing. Focus on keeping that one drop central and unmoving. That's what helped me get started."
Breathing slowly, Kratos extended his fingers and stilled his mind. He let go of the electrified energy within him, the suffocating, malicious aura surrounding them, his breathing as well as Freya's, he simply strained to listen and feel. After a few beats of his heart, he heard it. Somewhere out there in the darkness he heard the ruffling of wings. His hand felt the shadowy aura's trail of the fleeing Egyptian. Kratos slowly stood, keeping his hand extended as he continued to focus on that sensation.
"I've got him."
Freya blinked a few times in confusion. "You touched the ground and you know where he is?"
Kratos' eyes opened as he looked over to her, "Essentially."
"Let's go," she replied in stern affirmation.
They were running again, but this time with direction and purpose. Freya was but two steps behind Kratos, following each left and right he made. Before long, they found their way to a very large underground chamber. It was a surprisingly vast room compared to the tight hallways they had been navigating. At its center was an octagonal pedestal with rings upon rings of lit candles atop it. To its side, they found Khonsu.
His form was a bit smaller than it had been before, and his plumage a bit more lackluster. Between him and them a few stray feathered littered the stone floor. The moon god had an arm braced on the candle laden pedestal as he was roaring, "NERGAL! WHERE ARE YOU? BRING ME THE BOOK!"
Kratos stepped forward now, his steady golden glow illuminating the dark corner of the room they were in. "You will find no aid here, Khonsu. Only your end."
Khonsu turned to face them now, seemingly unaware of their presence until Kratos had spoken.
"How..I felt your life ebbing. The blade should have killed you. How have you escaped death twice?" His wings spread wide, his scythe summoned back to his fist with a wisp of black flame.
The blades of chaos were in Kratos' hands now, burning a golden fire rather than their typical reddish orange. He was glaring at the pitiful god before him as he growled, "It hasn't earned me yet."
Kratos and Freya charged forward, her wings springing forth as she wielded the kris blade in one fist and Thrungva in the other. Khonsu screeched and slammed the end of his scythe against the ground. A ball of darkly colored energy blinked into existence in the center of the scythe's crescent moon blade, suspended in air. The dark energy grew until the ball took up nearly the entirety of the empty space between the scythe's edges and the moon god thrust it forward pointed directly for his attackers with a roar. A purplish-black beam erupted from the ball of dark magic and flew towards Kratos and Freya. The goddess spun around it with deft agility as Kratos leapt to the side.
Freya's advance wasn't stopped as she continued to swirl around the beam until she was upon Khonsu. Her wings clipped in against her figure and as she tucked and rolled over Khonsu's feathered body, each of her blades leaving deep cuts on either shoulder. Khonsu moved to retaliate with the scythe but before he could, one of the chaos blade's chains wrapped around its snath lurching it back towards Kratos. With the remaining blade in hand, Kratos dove and plunged it into the moon god's chest with an angry bellow. Not falling so easily, Khonsu lashed out with a clawed hand, leaving several lines of blood slashed across the spartan's chest as he fell back.
With a jerk of his arms, the chaos blades flew loose, freeing the moon scythe and a fountain of blood from the raven's chest. Kratos' back hit the ground and he rolled, sliding to his knees with the blades raised. Freya was darting around Khonsu once more, parrying and trading blows with the Egyptian as Kratos charged again. His body was glowing golden still, as were the blades, as he let them loose and gripped the chains. Spinning and holding tight to the spiraling chains, he whirled them about him in a perfect circle. His body and arms continued to rotate as the blades reached out ten paces in all directions of him, with the spartan perfectly at the center of the cyclone of metal. Freya had just successfully parried the scythe out of the way as her wings tucked in and she dove between Khonsu's braced legs to safety. A heartbeat later, the swirling slashes of Kratos' attack tore into his feathered body. They ripped across his chest and arms as Kratos pressed his advance and continued his methodical, twirling dance at the tempest's center.
With one final roar Kratos brought both blades down diagonally, leaving two deep, gushing wounds across Khonsu's bloodied chest. Not missing a step, Freya returned from behind and dipped low, using both her swords to slash Khonsu at the ankles as she dove between his widened stance once more to return to Kratos' side. The moon god collapsed to his knees, his head hanging in fatigue. Open wounds slowly began to seal across Khonsu's body. There must have been nearly three dozen slashes alone from Kratos' cyclone attack. The moon god stood once more, and glared at his attackers. His feeling capabilities clearly having declined with the sun's return.
"I will not..be bested by washed out, foreign gods. My plan was perfect. You..you should not have interfered. Imagine it, how great this world would have been without gods! How many times have you suffered at the cruel hands of gods, Kratos? Imagine if there were no Zeus', no Odin's, no Ra's. No gods dictating how mortals' lives should be controlled. Using them like cattle and slaves!" He exhaled as he drew his scythe up to steady him. He was still very powerful, but his power had certainly waned with the sun returning to the sky. Kratos still didn't understand how such an event occurred, but it mattered little until Khonsu was dead.
He grunted, "Hnnph. It would not have been a world without gods, only a world ruled by you."
Khonsu's body began to glow with the same pale purple aura the moon had been shrouded in. "It matters not. The book still powers me. Come, Ghost, come and let us settle this. The god of the moon versus a goddess of love and a god of nothing. Truly a tale for Thoth's scrolls."
"I told you. I am a god of death, but not for mortals. I bring death to arrogant gods that think the world would best function as they see fit. I've killed Zeus, Ares, Odin, now I claim you as well," the spartan growled through gritted teeth.
Kratos sprinted forward again with Freya flying just behind. It had been somewhat difficult to fight in the darkened underground chamber, but with Kratos' glowing aura and the light coming off the spinning blades, it gave them just enough visibility to fight the powerful moon god.
The trio continued their battle for another ten or so minutes. The sound of metal clanging against metal echoed out through the dim, stone halls of the underground temple. Whereas above ground, Khonsu had held the clear advantage, now he was quickly losing. His body was healing with far less speed, and he was sustaining more injuries than before. The raven god still remained a serious threat, as he was able to land several more shallow wounds on the pair of northerners, but he was an island fighting back against a raging typhoon.
Kratos felt his newfound strength beginning to wane, this needed to be ended soon. His body had never utilized this kind of power before, and in its inexperience it seemed to only last so long. After another successful forward push, the Greek god gripped the chaos blades crossed against his chest. His arms tensed, drawing the steel across steel with a loud screech and charged their golden, fiery fury. He shouted and sparked the blades against each other, sending a concussive blast forward and knocking the moon god back. Gripping the chains he flew them up high into the air, scraping against the roof of the room, and brought them down with meteoric force. They pounded into Khonsu's body as he was being buffeted backwards and slammed him into the ground with a tall plume of sputtered magma erupting from the point of contact on the stone floor.
Freya flew over her partner's shoulders and threw her two swords into Khonsu's shoulders, further pinning him to the ground along with the chaos blades in his chest. The spartan jumped into the air now, the leviathan axe in his hand spinning and charging. He brought its razor steel edge down directly in the center of Khonsu's trapped chest, splitting his torso open as icicles stabbed into the air through his upper body. Bloodied and broken, Khonsu still would not go willingly into death's embrace. With a loud, shrieked cry his wings pushed him free from the ground, the various weapons littering his body clattering to the stone floor. The scythe reformed in his hand and he thrust it forward, slashing Kratos deeply across the thigh.
The valkyrie queen was back on him within a moment, her remaining sword, the cursed blade from Set, brandished in her fists. She swung it down with all of her remaining strength, cleaving one of his four wings from his back. As he wheeled around to face her, the chaos blade's chain wrapped around his foot and yanked him down. The axe flew through the air back to Kratos' outstretched hand as he slid, jumped, and brought it down on his back, clearing yet another wing from the failing moon god. With glowing, golden fists he gripped another and a guttural roar sounded as he tore it free from Khonsu's feathered flesh and threw it aside.
Khonsu felt blood in his throat, and panic took over all of his senses. He seeked to flee now, even with only one remaining wing. He made it two steps before the axe found its way into his back, knocking him to the floor. Feathers littered the ground all around him as he felt his power receding. Bringing himself back to his knees in an attempt to leap and sprint for safety, Freya got to him first. With every ounce of power still residing in the Vanir goddess' arms she brought the blackened kris blade down on Khonsu's neck just above the shoulder. On the Egyptian's opposite side, Kratos too was swinging his blades of chaos aimed directly for the moon god's neck. Blades met flesh, and a moment later steel clanged against steel as their blades met in the middle, at Khonsu's spine.
The moon god's head fell to the stoned floor where his kneeling corpse sat. It bounced and rolled a bit, feathers coating its path. Every other foot or so the hollow beak would knock against the stone echoing around the room. Kratos and Freya stepped back, as feathers shed from the body like autumn leaves from a tree in a fierce wind. Within a few moments, the body was nothing but a skeleton, as it had appeared when Khonsu first showed himself earlier in the night, back in Memphis. The husk of the deceased god no longer glowed, no longer empowered by the moon and death. Just another skeleton to add to the pile from the night's battle.
Kratos paced over to where Khonsu's skull sat, its empty eye sockets no longer bearing any resemblance of awareness or life. The axe returned to Kratos' hand and he swiftly brought it down, splitting the skull in two just above its beak. As he turned to gaze back at Freya, the bones began to disintegrate. A strung out pile of fine, white powdered dust remaining where the corpse once laid.
"It's over," Freya sighed with a mountain of relief. She gazed at the man she so endearingly adored as he walked back to her side. The glowing that had radiated out from his body was subdued now, and he was once more just the pale god he had been before.
Both of their bodies froze, and their fingers tensed to their weapons when they heard a dark snicker from the far side of the vast chamber.
A being emerged into the candlelight from the shadowed recesses of the room. He had the powerful, muscular upper body of a human man, and from the waist down bore the body of a massive lion. His lips cracked a wide smile through a dense, gray beard as he slowly approached them.
"I'm afraid, valkyrie queen, that would be incorrect."