Issue 19: Just Ducky
Where does the time go? Into the Three Weaves of Fate!—Old
Markav Proverb
So much of history and mythology was
clouded. Towards a divine purpose yet part of me recoils at the various levels
of secrecy that went into it all. It wasn’t for a lack of trust but just how
devious the Red King was. To think? Unity was built up as the ultimate evil but
it was a catspaw in comparison to the subversive and corrosive nature of the Red
King.—Mary Herbert-Lanis
Evil desires everything. From
everyone. No quarter. It will consume itself in its quest for domination. We
magi of the Arcane were careful but the Red King’s reach is long. Patient.
Methodical. It was why the other side of the Arbiter was needed. Much was put
on their shoulders.—Arcane Order: The Vigil Endures
We
would have our era of calm. It allowed for all of us to train, take stock, and
move designs forward for our confrontation with Chronos. I would cherish the
relative quiet. The raging waterfall was just beyond my peripheral vision.
Waiting to swallow us whole.—Sleeping in Starlight: 1000 Year Pause
Northern Plains
Paradise Falls
J’anu
hit the release.
The
pod sidewalls rolled out. The baby was curled up under the two ducks. Their
beaks tested the air. Sniffing delicately in the morning breeze. J’anu winced
as the med pod syringe injected her with additional vitamins and healing
properties. She hated to admit that the extra boost was soothing to her aching
body.
She
pointedly stared off into the distance.
She
had no son.
Nothing
that those crimson digits could cling to.
Or
so she thought.
*****
Trouble formed a harness. Floated
the baby into the cocoon of energy. The infant yawned. His chubby fingers
pressed against Trouble’s black feathers. Any potential shell host for the Red
King had to be kept out of play. Except for the one that the Highest would
force the Red King into. The Path would lead to its required End. No matter
what Abbadon desired. He prayed that Eliza would survive the rest of her trials
beyond the final window into Death’s realm. The stage was set. The players
arranged across the board. The curtain had yet to cast its shadow. Gulliver nudged
his brother.
<<Easy
now. Balance worry with the mission. We do our part? The timeline unfurls
within proper deviations.>>
Trouble quacked as Eliza landed. Her
eyes scanned everything for miles around them.
“No mocking triple beat. That
doesn’t say enough.”
J’anu whirled, “Now to throw us to
the Red Wolves.”
Eliza frowned, “No. Now we get your
husband and put you under a protection program.”
J’anu smirked. Her face grew hard
under the rising sunlight.
“You would protect us. We are
murderers. Why even try? Your outdated honor? Compassion? Some leftover angelic
programming forcing you….”
*****
I replied sternly, “Do not mistake
compassion for acceptance of your crimes. If that thing that wears your
father’s face consumes you or Ta’rammon, it will be able to home in on the
child through a blood bond.”
J’anu’s face fell. I had hit a
nerve. One she did not want to admit to. My Thronebearer senses didn’t lie. The
faint outline of black scrawl proclaimed her as the daughter-scion to the
Crimson Eye of the Void. Unity had its three avatars. Abbadon had the stronger.
It would take the combined might of the future fleets to corral Chronos. To hem
in all those fallen servants. Even if they didn’t know who pulled the strings.
Trouble waddled over to sit on my
head.
<<Be
seeing you!>>
I replied, “Make sure I keep my
promise!”
*****
The greatest secret had yet to be
revealed.
For mortals? They could only perceive
time within a linear fashion. The Highest worked within that model. His agents
were spared the worse of the vision warps. The multitude of possibilities. Even
his Weave Speakers saw the barest glimpses. Just enough to pull everyone along
on the roads needed. Eliza and Dexter held a kernel. The slightest sliver of
the Highest within them. Anything further would have consumed their mortal
forms.
A deep voice purred, “Ready?”
The
duck brothers climbed onto the back of the mighty Icath King.
They
departed in a flash of silver and white light.
J’anu
slumped against the side of the medical pod.
United Terran Alliance Hub Endurance
Gilgamesh Sector
June 20th, 3160
I peered over the railing. Just as
promised. The duck brothers made a beeline for me.
I handed Gulliver the promised
package, “I remember. Special Order 357!”
The black box slipped into his bag
of holding. I patted them both on their feathered heads. “Take good care of
each other.” I had missed them terribly but we had to keep all potential Red
Hosts as far away as possible. Until the 3rd Phase. Then they could
bring the boy back into the regular world. The silver-white light rippled once
more.
Mom nudged me, “This has something
to do with that 3rd death business.”
I nodded, “The Highest needs me to
draw the Red King out.”
It wasn’t going to be pretty.
Our time of relative peace was
coming to a close. I flicked the Covenant network online.
Endless streams of information
flowed across my Ur-enhanced membranes.
“Chronos won’t know what hit him.
Jacob and Samantha should be in position by now.”
100 odd years to go before the
reemergence of the Chronos Fleets.
Doc pressed a monitor slip across my
forehead, “The Highest is up to his old….”
I pressed my lips together. Winked
at them both.
“Just remember! I know nothing!
Absolutely nothing.”
Dad walked across the grav plating
segments. The construction was hurtling past. A regular beehive of activity. He
clapped me on the shoulder. “Ever wonder what a simple timeline would be like?”
I leaned back on my heels. Hooked my hands behind my head, “I’d love to see
that. Just watch stars being born. Talk about the weather.”
Nothing was simple when it came to
the Highest. Or his fallen brother.
Sunset Showdown hollered across the
coms, “We found it! HA! Marvin owes me a cold one!” Proctor Gansys shimmered to
life in the palm of my hand. Q-T communication was bonkers. Near-instant data
relay no matter where you were. Or even when you were. Explained why I had been
able to dead drop a few hints or misdirection for friend and foe alike. Even
though my Golden City days were behind me. I shrugged out of my House Murphy
overcoat. Rolled up my sleeves and linked the Order to my HUD feed. “Alright.
Let’s get down to business.” I flew over to the outer green shell of the ship.
Jupiter cut in, <<I was
wondering when we’d get to the X-Tier models!>>
Jacob noted, “How long until the
balloon goes up?”
I replied, “Another 105 or so
years.”
Eliza Odessen, her hair shock white,
face lined with age materialized behind my eyelids, “Even with the new prolog
procedures? I cannot live out the rest of the time awake. I will go into the
Deep Sleep. I request…”
I replied quickly, “Granted. I
already set aside a sarcophagus within the Golden Hall.”
Since Project Overhead began we had
gathered 1000s of universes under our growing umbrella. I prayed it would be
enough. The multiverse was vast but only so many had the individuals needed to
combat Chronos. Others would remain behind the shields we had erected. Those
vulnerable to the Red King’s call. Places without magic. Without demis. Without
space travel.
We had to hold the line. I linked to
my past self through the Ur-Flow.
>>Argos and Cerberus will need
you. Do not let Ta’rammon perform the blood ritual.<<
The Red King would use him as a
conduit otherwise.
Their fates were for another path.
One that would be vital.
*****
Cerberus hurled himself against his
foe.
His
outer form crackled with divine energy. Argos ran interference. Multiple wounds
pulsed on the outer form of their enemy. Ta’rammon shocked them all as he
hurled the Light Shaman daggers towards the multi-armed backside. The metal
sank into flesh. It bellowed as the divine energy sizzled against its outer
fleshly membrane. Nargus Samata howled. Crimson wings sprouted from its sides.
The concussion of dark energy struck Argos, Cerberus, and Ta’rammon. The two
wolves were hurled back. The solid thump against the rocky surface dazed both.
Tattoos glowed a dark purple across Ta’rammon’s exposed chest and arms.
He
could use this fallen avatar. He pulled out his khopesh.
The
metal gleamed vermillion as he approached the dark-winged demon.
He
spoke in ancient Egyptian, “I shall consume you.”
*****
Nargus Samata noted the human’s
stance. The way the muscles bunched under the shoulder blades. Dark Scrawl curled about their feet. Approach. Perfect. Another mortal puppet for
the Red King. A thunder burst of sound echoed.
It
hissed, “Thronebearer!”
*****
Dexter hid within his sister’s
shadow.
Mimicking every movement she made. He had to
cut Ta’rammon’s strings. The threads that bound his dark magics to the Void.
The Eternal Empire ruler had other means. He just never accessed them. His body
was too corrupted for Light Shamman's to use but they would have another
purpose for him and his Urraden wife. A Samata was at the center of the massive
cavern. His sister’s power flowed over Cerberus. The wolf’s head turned. His
tail thumped as he rose shakily to his feet, “I had forgotten the touch of the
Red Hand.”
Eliza
said, “Give this to Argos. I’ll trip up the shattered mirror!”
Dexter's
eyes darted to the sigils on the walls. He warned his sister through their
link.
She
thought he was with their father.
He
couldn’t let this thing warn Abbadon.
*****
I winced as the
smell hit my nostrils. Brimstone.
I burrowed under the earth. Stone
was no barrier. Above me I could hear the rising heartbeats of Argos and Ta’rammon.
Cerberus was cloaked! His wet nose tickled the lower part of my ear and he
melded with the shadows. No, within my shadow. I filed that away for later. The
air changed. Human blood. Within seconds I burst through the thin layer of dirt
remaining. Leathery black wings slapped my face. I smiled, “Nice of you to drop
in!”
I
poured Thronebearer energy into my fist. Just like Dexter showed me.
Bone face howled as I hit its
stomach. It spat white blood from its jaws. I skipped back.
Its beady eyes narrowed. Into twin
green slits.
I could almost hear my brother say, “Now
it can’t phone home. Good work.”
I flexed my fingers. Tension ran
through my body. It was not my own.
*****
Thomas Murphy finished the last symbol.
The blue ink tried upon Dexter’s forehead.
Hephaestus and his men stood guard. This
was no longer the world of the All-Father. Tarkanan was dead. High above the
outer layers of the machine world pulsed. It was the first of its kind. The
reason why the All-Father had taken an interest. One of the fingers of Abbadon.
The outer golden rings locked. Followed by the silver. White. Black. Until they
formed into a sphere floating above their heads. The black marble slab rose
another 3 feet. Dexter’s face relaxed. The soul projection was complete.
Soul Shard pairs. They could
communicate beyond the Veil.
Thomas knelt.
Rested his bracers against his son’s
chest.
Arcana flowed.
*****
I launched a series of jabs.
The
outer bone cracked. Hairline fractures crisscrossed against its chest as I
knocked it back through the hardened rock. Away from the cavern system. Fresh
air hit my face as we emerged through the cliffside. No blood connection. Ta’rammon
would not get his meal.
Obsidian
wings lashed out. My fingertips grew cold.
These
were not my powers.
Dexter’s
voice flowed.
>>I have to cut off its soul shard
points. Stolen from the Night Realm.<<
I
had no clue what the Night Realm was but I trusted my brother. I allowed him
control of my hands. My arms followed. The creature’s face transformed. Three
long black tounges shot out. Quick. Scaled. Serpentine. Here I thought Unity
was the mastery of mockery. Its voice snapped.
Velvet
soft, “Thronebearer. It matters not. Abbadon will devour all. You only slow the
inevitable!”
My
left hand brushed against the primary artery that ran from its neck to curl
around its spine. Its arms collapsed. This was Dexter’s role. I knew it without
asking. There were energies beyond the realm of Life.
*****
Ta’rammon jumped. Using the edges of
the hole to propel himself forward. As the clean air hit his chest he dodged to
the side as Black tendrils rained down from the sky. Bits of milky white blood
followed. He grimaced. This was one of the Lord of Bone. It didn’t work for
Unity. His father had mentioned this. It served a darker master. One spoken of
in whispers. A master of Flesh. He had not wanted to believe. Unity was
horrific enough. Ta’rammon had his limits. This was madness. He whirled as the
two wolves bit down on his arms. Cocooning him in energy. His face went slack
as magic paralyzed him. Each muscle was frozen. His head bowed. The sounds of
battle receded.
*****
J’anu glared. The Wolves of Elysium’s
Gate landed before her. Cerberus and Argos bit down hard. Leaving faint blue
scars on Ta’rammon’s biceps. Argos padded forward. His lupine face mere inches
from her own, <<When the Voice cracks? Run.>>
She snapped, “I decide my fate.”
Cerberus agreed, <<Shall you
serve or shall you fall?>>
J’anu pulled Ta’rammon into the
medpod.
It sealed shut with a hiss.
“I care not for your judgment.”
Only the wind answered her.
*****
Nargus Samata shuddered. The Thronebearer
of Life shouldn’t be able to access the Necrotic Lines! Its voice burned yet
his signals hit a wall. The energy was akin to Abaddon's but foreign. True
Death! No.
The One Hidden. Who would walk the
Path of Serpents?
It had never been about Eliza
Murphy.
Abbadon’s replacement had arrived.
Nargus Samata shouted, “Ark’ah’kul!”
Hands moved through his chest. His
connection to the Entropic Plane shattered. With the last bit of its hideous
strength, it managed two words past the barrier between living and dead.
*****
Mordred clenched his fists upon the
crimson throne, “Death Walks.”
Issue 18: Here
Issue 20: Here
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