The Incarnates
In the beginning there was darkness. Then God created the Universe and the great bird Nyx, who in turn gave birth to Eros, the God of Love. God saw this and was pleased. Then God created the earth which was shapeless and dark, resembling the egg shell Eros had hatched from. God said, “Let there be Light.” And there was, and God saw that this was good.
Light was, in fact, a bright beauty, a demi-god. Light lit the skies and shone brightly over all. With Light came Shadow and Shadow lurked where Light could night reach. One could not exist without the other, yet neither of the two mingled.
On the second day of the earth's creation, God created the heavens. Eros came forth and named the heavens Uranus and the earth Gaia. Then he made them fall in love. As God continued to create, Uranus and Gaia had many children that grew quickly, much quicker than the forthcoming humans could ever imagine. God saw their love and gave to Uranus, Gaia, and their children, Fire as a gift.
One of their children, Kronus, was afraid of the power his children might wield and so ate them upon their birth. But his wife, Rhea, hid their youngest child, Zeus. When he was fully grown, Rhea taught him to trick his father into giving up his siblings in which he succeeded. Then Zeus led a war against his father with his siblings and came out the victor.
While the war raged between the gods and goddesses, God had created land and sea and plants. Now, on the sixth day, God saw that Zeus was victorious and named him the highest of the earth's gods. God then commanded Zeus to create animals and man in the image of the gods.
In turn, Zeus ordered his sons Prometheus and Epimetheus to create the animals and man, bestowing on each a gift. Prometheus labored hard on the creation of man in the image of the gods while Epimetheus swept through creating animals and bestowing on each a gift. When Prometheus finally finished man, he went to his brother to see what gifts he had left. Shamefacedly, Epimetheus admitted he had used them all.
Distressed, Prometheus decided to bestow upon man the gift of Fire, though it had been deemed the gift of the gods. When Zeus discovered what his sons had done, he became enraged and ordered Prometheus to be chained to a mountainside for eternity. For Epimetheus, he created the beautiful woman Pandora, to which all the gods bestowed a gift. Zeus' gift was the gift of curiosity and a beautifully carved wooden box, telling Pandora she mustn't open it.
For some time Pandora and Epimetheus lived peacefully, though she longed to open the wooden box from Zeus. Finally, on a day she knew Epimetheus would be gone, Pandora vowed to open the box. When her husband left, she crept to its side and lifted the lid.
Out flew all the horrors of the world, Sickness, Fear, Anger, Corruption, Apathy. They flew 'round Pandora who let loose a terrible scream. Epimetheus, hearing his wife's cries, flew to her side and closed the lid. By then all the horrors had fled.
That night while lying in bed, a voice was heard coming from the box. “Let me out,” it cried. “I am hope.” The pair lifted the lid and a beautiful woman, shimmering like a ray of brilliant sunshine, rose from the box. “I bring hope to mankind,” she said before flying away.
Pandora, despairing over what she'd done, watched Hope's departure with tears in her eyes. “I keep none for myself.”
When God gave his earthly gods and goddesses the gift of Fire, he gave them Cassandra. Of course, she was not known as Cassandra, nor was she even a 'she'. Indeed, Cassandra had no name and no set gender. The gods did not yet know that the essence of Fire existed, though it would readily be apparent by the time Pandora opened her box. When Fire ran rampant and unchecked over the land, it was then that Apollo the Sun God noticed the bubbling laughter that sprang from the flames.
He in turn, took the essence under his wing and brought it to life, letting it take shape. Fire came to love the form of a petite woman with fiery red hair and amber eyes. Her beauty wooed the men around her easily, and Fire soon learned of the pleasures they offered. Seeing such, Apollo deemed her Cassandra, or 'she who tempts men'. And so Cassandra had a name and a solid form. Apollo deemed her an Incarnate, giving her the status of demi-god. When Cassandra was announced as a demi-god, an Incarnate, the rest of the gods began to wonder what other essences there were and set out to discover them.
Cassandra, in her earthly wanderings, was the first to come upon Phobia. He had not been named, nor taken a shape yet. No, he stayed with Shadow and kept to the dark, infecting those already corrupted with fear and dread. Cassandra, for whatever reason, decided to take it upon herself to be a constant companion to this essence. Through her he learned to take shape, and she called him Phobia, teaching him what she knew. When she could teach him no more, she brought him to Apollo. Slowly it became apparent that everything on the planet had an essence. And so, everything on the planet had an Incarnate.
The early years of human life were filled with plenty of mischief and fun for Cassandra and the rest of the Incarnates. They gradually were accepted as demi-gods amongst their fellows and grew to enjoy their solid forms. They went here and there amongst humans, blending in quite well and learning their ways quickly.
As the ages passed and human life progressed, many of the Incarnates – much like the more well known gods and goddesses – grew bored of playing with humans. And as they grew bored, new religions swept through and soon all that was left was the memory of the mighty gods. Or so most humans thought. They lived on, delving into the lives of humans quite frequently, since it was their duty to do so. However, now they were not recognized. While some of the gods and goddesses were quite put out by this turn of events, the Incarnates for the most part could care less. They were never all that involved with humans unless by choice.
Eventually, Cassandra and her few companions – usually Phobia and Lysias, the b*****d son of Hades – came to realize that there were a handful of humans and other creatures who roamed the planet with abilities not unlike their own. Humans called them witches, warlocks, and vampires. There were Angels, Fallen Angels, Demons and more. For the most part they blended in just as well as the Incarnates. When war and famine began to plague the world, Cassandra began to grow weary of humans and these new creatures.
Soon enough, Cassandra began to keep to Olympus. Though during this time she was a lover to Lysias, who lived in the Underworld with his father. Indeed, she spent many a night there, wrapped in his heated embrace. Though she greatly respected Aphrodite, Cassandra was not plagued by the feeling of love. Her passionate feelings for Lysias were the closest she had ever come. Each day she watched him flirt with human girls and the goddesses around them and each night if it was not her in his arms, it was another. She resented them all because of it and grew bitter and withdrawn. Phobia, who had grown to be a sort of brother to her, noticed her change at once and confronted her with his observations. It is this night that Cassandra's story truly begins...
It was a warm night, one that made a soft breeze seem like a lover's kiss. The moon was out in all her glory, shining down from her bed of glittering stars upon the resting world below. In Olympus, most of the gods and goddesses had taken to their beds, or could be found tangled in the arms of a lover. This could mean they were either in a bed or... well, they weren't exactly picky about where they let their passion take over.
It was this that Cassandra had attempted to escape. The sight of lovers entwined together. Particularly her lover and another woman, the Incarnation of Joy. And thusly named 'Joy'. Such a bland name, Cassandra thought. These days any woman Lysias slept with had limitless flaws in Cassandra's eyes. Those very eyes began to fill with unshed tears at the thought of all Lysias' women.
To hide from the lot of them, including his lady of the night, Cassandra had hidden herself away in one of the many secluded gardens on Mount Olympus. Of course there were others around, but Cassandra had taken to the outskirts of the garden, where it met the edge of a cliff and descended down into sheer rock. From here she could see the vastness of the heavens and feel the cool breeze on her skin. It was a favorite spot of hers, out amongst the lilacs and gardenias, watching the stars fall from the sky or Apollo bring forth the sun in his chariot of fire. Cassandra loved the days he let her tag along. It had been years since he'd offered, but then they had both been busy. Busy in bed, but that was beside the point.
“You can't outrun it forever, you know.” Cassandra practically leaped into the air so startled was she by Phobia's voice. She turned to flash a burning glare at him that nearly singed off his dark eyebrows. “Whoa now, there's no need for that!” Phobia licked his fingers and tenderly smoothed them over his eyebrows, which had already grown back to their normal length. Having no true solid body had its perks when it became damaged.
“You nearly scared me half to death!” Cassandra exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. She tucked in her chin and looked up at Phobia through her lashes, though the look she gave him was a dark one. The movement caused a mass of fiery red curls to fall forward around her slender shoulders. The body she'd chosen was a petite one standing at only five foot four with very womanly curves. Draped over her figure was a robe of glimmering orange and red that allowed for just the right amount of leg to be seen.
In contrast, Phobia chose a tall, lean male figure that stood at nearly six foot two with long dark red hair, the sort that is never found naturally. Long braids decorated his hair at random, each adorned with a simple gold clasp. He wore a simple black and gold cloth wrapped around his hips, preferring to show off his musculature. His eyes were pitch black and his smile, while charming, held a hint of mischief.
It was this smile that he flashed to Cassandra. “Well now, I didn't rightly mean to. So why not forgive me and let's be done with it, hmm?” He waggled his recently scorched eyebrows at her in an attempt to bring a smile to her somber face. Her lips twitched slightly and after a long pause, she sighed and gave in. “There now, that wasn't so hard was it?”
Cassandra stuck her tongue out at him. “What is it you're bothering me about anyway? If it's anything to do with Lysias' woman, I swear I'll tie you to the back of Apollo's chariot before he sets out.” The smile that lingered on her face gave away the fact that she was really only half serious.
At the mention of Lysias, however, Phobia's own smile faded. “Indeed it is about Lysias' woman.” When Cassandra's features darkened, he held up a hand to quiet her. “I mean you, Cassie. You're not your self and you know it.”
Her red lips drew together in a little pout, making her look like a child that's been confronted with something it was trying to hide. And in a way she was. Still, she'd been somewhat successful so far, hadn't she? In her mind playing dumb might be the smartest course of action to avoid this conversation, however inescapable it really was. “I've no idea what you're talking about Phobia. I've been perfectly fine.”
“Yes, a right ray of sunshine,” he muttered, rubbing his brows again. Cassandra's amber eyes darkened again and he hastily stopped. “What I mean to say, Cassie, is that you've fallen for Lysias.”
Well now, Cassandra certainly wasn't expecting him to be so blunt! She spluttered in surprise, blinking at the man she'd come to think of as a brother. “I what?” Her astonishment at his words must have surprised even him because he simply sat there, staring at her in disbelief. “I'm sorry, I guess I didn't get the memo... When did you get that crazy idea?”
Phobia reached up and rubbed a large hand over the back of his head, looking out towards the cliff edge. “Well... Since you 'accidentally' set fire to Aphrodite...”
“That really was an accident, I didn't know she was right by the hearth!”
“... And the time you nearly took out that human girl's village.”
“The area hadn't seen a fire in twenty generations, it was about time something happened. It was simply my job!”
“... And I suppose Marie Antoinette was an accident too?” Phobia cocked a brow at Cassandra, watching as she fumbled with her words.
“I... That was just... Well...” She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Alright, you got me on that one.” Lifting her head, she met his eyes with a sheepish grin. “I guess I can be pretty jealous sometimes.”
“And vindictive, crazy, possessive...” Phobia offered. Cassandra shot him a pointed glare to which he responded with another charming smile. “I mean it in the most loving way, Cassie dear.” He nodded a few times, as if to reinforce his sincerity. When Cassandra was still not appeased, he sighed. “Face if Cassandra. You love him.”
For a moment, it looked as if Cassandra would deny it still. Her mouth worked furiously, anger flashing in her amber eyes. Her curls became tendrils of flame, sparking in the night air. After a moment it became readily apparent that she was more fighting with herself than anything else. A strangled whine escaped her throat and she settled down finally, sitting heavily on a nearby boulder. “I do,” she admitted.
Pobia stepped closer and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “How long has it been Cassandra? How long have you watched him do this and let it eat at you?” His words had softened, his voice soothing yet sad at the same time. Cassandra was astonished at how tender he could be... He was the incarnation of Fear, tenderness was not in his job description. Before she could answer him, he'd swept her up in his arms and sat down on the boulder in her place, cradling her small frame against his. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, stroking her hair. “You've been too unlike the Cassie I know for a long while now...”
She sighed, burying her face in his shoulder. She knew damn well he was right, but she didn't know what to do about it. “I just hope he hasn't noticed...”
“Oh, he's noticed and he doesn't like it.” Phobia gave her a sympathetic look. “You'd best tell him your feelings...” His hand stroked Cassandra's hair, playing with the soft curls. She found his close presence to be comforting, something she'd only ever found with him and Lysias. Anyone else was just a plaything. Of course, she and Phobia had never engaged in such activities together; they had always been brother and sister.
After a moment's pause, she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “Phobia, apart from me you know him best,” she said, voice soft and filled with worry. “Tell me... What do you think he will say?”
Phobia gave her a sorrowful look, lifting his shoulders slightly in a shrug. “I can't tell you, Cassandra.” He pulled her close again, as if attempting to shield her from the worries of the world around them. “I haven't the slightest idea.”
It was not long after her discussion with Phobia in the gardens that Cassandra found herself in her own home. As far as walls went, there were very few. The grounds were filled with living green things and the decorations were Cassandra's favorite colors; shades of red, orange, and gold. Sheer drapes hung around, swirling in the light breeze and giving a very mysterious feel to the home. Cassandra herself paid no mind to her surroundings as she was lost in her own musings. She had stretched herself out languidly upon a red upholstered lounge chair with gold trimmings, herself practically nude. She preferred it that way. Clothing was just so… restricting.
Her musings were, of course, centered around what to do about Lysias. She had not the slightest idea how to approach him with her feelings. Love was not something she was accustomed to. Of course, Phobia’s words had not helped her much; she had hoped he would be able to give her some insight into what Lysias' reaction might be. Though she knew him well… Suffice it to say that Phobia had a better understanding of how his mind worked. Cassandra could only guess.
She was turning over in her head how she could possibly approach him. She knew he’d be busy with Joy tonight, but she didn’t think she could bear to wait. Now that she was aware others knew of her feelings, she had to get it out to Lysias and see his reaction. Her first plan of action centered around barging into his quarters in the middle of his coupling with Joy and declare her undying love for him whilst tossing Joy out on her bottom. She didn’t think that would go over too well though for a number of reasons. The main one being that Lysias hated to be interrupted in the throes of passion. She doubted he’d care about her feelings much if he didn’t get to finish.
The second plan was to wait outside for him to finish and then go in and declare her love and toss Joy out, then proceeding to give him another round. However, there were a few flaws in this plan as well; the main one being that Cassandra would have to sit there lurking outside his door listening while they bounced around like wild bunnies. It was not something she wanted to hear and thought that it might make her jump the gun and proceed with Plan One instead. Another bad idea.
Her third plan was to wait elsewhere, perhaps the kitchen area, in the hopes of catching him while he went in search of his favorite after sex snack. This was the best course of action she could think of for spilling her heart out to him as soon as she possibly could. With that in mind, she proceeded to make herself look her best. Which basically meant she wore as little as possible and mussed up her curls as much as possible. She knew Lysias loved it when she looked like that. In fact, it was how they first began their affair. He’d caught her finishing up with Apollo, half dressed with wild hair. He had immediately swept her off to his own bed, with little protestation from her. The memory brought a little smile to her lips; their first time together had opened new doors for Cassandra and she had found herself unable to resist him.
Perhaps that was why she’d fallen for him? She didn’t know, nor did she question where these feelings came from. She probably should have, but the fiery little demi-god did not even hesitate. It just was not in her nature to do so. Instead, she made off to the Underworld to carry out her foolish little plan. Indeed, deep down she knew how foolish this course of action was. If she had but a little more experience in these things she would have known what to expect from Lysias. But alas, she had no experience, only the hope that Lysias would welcome her heart openly. A fool’s hope.
Her journey to the Underworld did not take long, as she could simply materialize inside Lysias' quarters. She took care to do so in an area where she would not be seen by him or his current bed partner and also in a place where she would not be able to hear them. The best place for that would be the kitchen. And so she materialized there, waiting for Lysias to make his appearance. Judging by how early into the evening it was, he wouldn’t show for quite some time.
Boy was she right about that. Cassandra had practically dozed off waiting for him to finish and get his snack. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Cassandra’s eyes fluttered open and she sat up immediately from her position against the wall. She stretched, loosening her cramped muscles. Apparently she’d been there for a few good hours. As Lysias rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, she paused and hitched a breath. He was completely nude. It wasn’t like she’d never seen him nude before, but the sight always took her breath away. He was tall and lean with well defined arms and chest, but not overly defined. Just the way she liked her men. His hair was long and silver, usually tied back with a leather string, but tonight it fell freely around his pale shoulders. And his eyes; his eyes were blood red. It was one of her favorite things about Lysias, his blood red eyes.
Unfortunately, Lysias had heard her little gasp. Those red eyes she loved so much focused on her immediately, a frown creasing his strong brow. “What are you doing here, Cassie?” He turned to her fully, not even caring that he was fully nude. Cassandra knew he wasn’t, he always loved showing himself off. Such a playful creature, Lysias…
He was still waiting for an answer as her eyes traveled the length of him, enjoying the view. An amused smirk lifted a corner of his lips as he watched her, though she could tell he grew impatient waiting for an answer. “I… Well, I needed to speak with you, truthfully.” Taking a deep breath, Cassandra stepped towards him, quickly closing the distance between them. He was simply irresistible. She reached out to him, sliding a hand over his chest. “Lysias, I… I know I’ve been acting differently lately…”
His arms slid easily around her waist, drawing her closer as he breathed in the scent of her hair. “Have you been playing around, Cassie dear? Your hair is all mussed up…” He nuzzled against her temple, his fingers dancing over the small of her back.
“No, I haven’t… Leastwise, not without you…” She squirmed in his arms, blushing furiously. Usually she was just as playful as he was, but tonight she was resisting the urge to give back until she got her words out. “Lysias, I must tell you… The reason I’ve been so different is… It’s because…” She gasped as his lips met her neck, trailing little kisses farther down along her shoulder. “Lysias, I love you.”
“I know you do, Cassie,” he murmured, fingers trailing a searing path across her skin. There was sincerity in his tone, but not interest. Cassandra didn’t catch his disinterest though, his fingers and lips had done their job and driven her mad with want.
“You… You do?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve always known it.” He tilted her chin up, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Come to me, Cassie dear. My bed grows so cold…” Without thinking, Cassandra obeyed, lost in his eyes already. He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and resting his hands under her thighs. He kissed her again, carrying her back to his bed.
There was no sign of Joy.
Hours had passed and after a light rest, Cassandra felt wonderful. She was sure this meant Lysias returned her feelings and she couldn’t be happier. She stretched lazily, yawning slightly. She had not gotten much rest. The bed beside her was empty, leading Cassandra to assume Lysias had gone to the kitchen for his usual snack. After all, she had interrupted his snack time earlier. And so she lay there, humming peacefully to herself as she waited for his return.
And return he did, bringing a smile to her lips. “Welcome back, love,” she greeted, sitting up a little to better take him in. He was once again nude and popping the last grape into his mouth. He did not offer her any food, but she did not feel offended by this. After all, she did not want the same fate as befell Persephone.
He chewed slowly, regarding her with a masked looked. It was then that Cassandra realized something was very wrong with his demeanor. He cocked his head to the side, swallowing the grape finally. “Cassandra, we must talk.”
Her smile faded and she sat up fully, not caring that she was completely nude. “Talk about what?” she asked, her voice wary.
He eyed her in silence for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. “It cannot be, Cassandra,” he said finally. “We must stop this.”
Cassandra’s heart beat quickened, her brows furrowing together worriedly. “Stop what?” She stood from the bed, drawing closer to him. “Lysias, what do you mean?” She knew what he meant and though she dreaded the words, she had to hear them. It was necessity, else she’d never be completely free of the thought of him. She didn’t think she would be anyway, but still…
“Cassandra, do not come to my bed any longer. I will not search out your company, and you must not seek out mine. We are through.” His eyes hardened after he spoke, giving his words a finality that anything else could not. She drew back, hurt evident on her face. Her lip quivered, amber eyes filling with tears. She wouldn’t let herself be seen crying though, especially not in front of Lysias. She turned away from him quickly and immediately materialized away from his bed chamber and into her own.
She threw herself onto her bed, the tears coming fast with no signs of letting up. Cassandra was heartbroken. For the first time ever she knew what it was like to have your hopes crushed entirely. She’d done it many a time and thought nothing of it. The realization of this made her feel even worse. She buried her face in her pillow and let out a strangled cry, her heart aching like never before.
In the wee hours of the morning, Cassandra dragged herself out of bed with a determined face. She had to get away. She didn’t know exactly where she would go, but she knew she must leave Olympus. Perhaps not for good, but at least until her heart healed. It would hurt too much to run into Lysias and hear of all his encounters. She knew she had been in his bed more frequently than any other and she did not want to know who the next would be.
It was with a heavy heart that Cassandra made her way back out to her favorite garden spot, looking out past the sheer cliff that marked the edge of Mount Olympus. Without a backwards glance, she spread her arms and pitched herself forward off the cliff, tumbling down in a whirlwind of bright orange flames only to sputter out on the rocks far below.
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A terrified scream echoed off the mountains. Sprawled out on the grass, with blood pooling under him, a boy’s life flashed before his eyes. In his mind’s eye, he saw visions of pain and fear from his childhood. He remembered a terrible, recurring dream he had in his youth. The nightmare had become a reality, and he knew he was going to die. He was growing weak as the blood drained from his body. Reality was slipping away, and he was being sucked into a horrific vision in his own dying mind.
A thousand maggots squirmed at the bottom of a well. They twisted and writhed around, and slowly they became worms. The worms evolved into snakes before his eyes. With fury that only starvation could invoke, they began to devour each other. Blood and meat was pooling in the bottom of the well. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, and it pounded with terror.
The bloody cesspool began to stir. It bubbled and frothed like a witch’s brew in the blackest of ancient rites. Suddenly, it boiled over and overflowed. A black talon emerged from the massacred well. A shriek pierced through the night, and madness overwhelmed the dying boy’s mind. His vision continued to unfold. Following the talon, a menacing arm emerged. The monster crawled out of the well slowly, as if it was trying to build suspense.
After a few agonizing moments, it became clear that a dragon was being born. It screamed and roared in pain, submerged in the boiling blood. Its head reared majestically out of the pool. With an almighty roar, it showed off rows of sharp, black fangs. The flames of the underworld burned in its eyes. It sent a pillar of flame fit for the apocalypse towards the stars. With a grunt, it spit molten lava and stared straight into the boy’s mind.
Screaming, he snapped back to reality. He could see his surroundings again, and the vision had come to a dramatic end. Staring up at his attackers, he suddenly felt different than before. He gazed up at the boys who had massacred him. He looked straight into the eyes of the ones who broke his arm and tried to tear his throat out. They were laughing cruelly at him.
“I think our work here is done. He’s going to die, let’s steal his gold and get out of here.” A smug-looking bandit shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
His companion kicked at the boy, and knelt down next to him. He carelessly shifted him onto his side, and began to dig through one of his pockets. With a grin, he pulled out a strange looking coin. It looked very old, and was crafted from the finest silver. The word “Cythrath” was engraved on it. There were more carvings. The thief studied them for a minute, but they were in an archaic language that no one in the world could read anymore.
“Cythrath? What’s that supposed to mean? Is that a name or something?”
They both laughed heartily. The redheaded bandit just couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Sounds like one of those old Vithrathian Cult names. It’s weird. You don’t see people around here with names like that anymore.”
On the ground, the abused boy was beginning to feel strange. Only a few moments ago, he was convinced he was going to die. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He felt rejuvenated for some reason. In fact, he realized that if he wanted to, he could probably just stand up and walk away. A strange tingle ran down his spine when they mentioned the old cult. He had heard legends of the old magic, and of the dark rites performed in caves in the dead of night. Of course, even mentioning Vithrath or his followers was frowned upon, now. Those days were almost forgotten. The world had changed, and people were trying their best to forget the terrible memories.
“Cythrath. . . It’s almost kind of eerie. Just because we’re all the way out here in the mountains.” The taller bandit suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. “I haven’t heard a name like that in years. I don’t like it.”
His redheaded companion rolled his eyes. “After all these years, you’re still superstitious. Get over it, Lorn.”
The tall bandit gazed over his shoulder at the ancient mountains. They loomed eerily over the moor, standing alone in the wilderness. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near those mountains this late at night.” Lorn recalled nightmarish tales of blood sacrifice and voodoo that he heard as a child. He remembered sleepless nights spent hiding under the covers. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so levelheaded all the time, Krono. Strange things come alive in the weird, dark hours when the rest of the world sleeps. People have come out here for a walk and never gone home again.”
On the ground, Cythrath was listening intently. He pretended to be unconscious, so the bandits would let their guard down. Their conversation was sparking his interest. He never knew why, but he had always been fascinated by tales of the old days.
Krono scoffed. “They were probably murdered or something. That, or they ran into a hungry dragon. We don’t have to worry about anything, Lorn. We can fight off anything that comes our way.”
Lorn seemed to be getting more and more nervous. “You don’t understand… It all seems like too much of a coincidence. I didn’t say anything before, but when we were coming out here, I was nervous the entire time.” He kept glancing over his shoulder at those dreadful mountains. “I tried to ignore the fear, but this is just too weird. This kid… Why would a kid with a Vithrathian name be hanging out alone on the moors? He has no reason to be out here. He isn’t from the city, Krono! He’s one of them!” Madness was creeping into his voice, now.
With a laugh, Krono brushed back his fiery red hair. “One of who? What are you rambling about now?”
“You know as well as I do, Krono! They never really left… They aren’t really gone. They’re only waiting for their time to come again. Vithrath and his heathen followers are resting and biding their time!”
A crash resounded throughout the woods, followed by a shrill howl. Both of the bandits jumped. Lorn let out a small scream, and Krono looked like he was ready to run. Cythrath remained calm. He knew he must pretend to be fatally injured, to keep them from harming him any more.
Krono looked annoyed. He had almost lost it for a minute. “All this nonsense must be getting to me… It was only a baby dragon or something.” He scowled.
The shock had only fueled Lorn’s fear. “Let’s just put his coin back and get out of here. I knew we should have gone someplace else. Why did you want to come out here?” His eyes spun around wildly, searching for danger. “There’s hardly any travelers out here anyway. This was an awful idea.”
“Why the hell would we put it back? This thing’s probably two centuries old. It’s from before the dawn of the new age! We could buy a new house with the money we’ll get from selling this thing!” Krono’s greed was his defining trait. His desire for wealth and worldly pleasures overshadowed everything, even his common sense. “We’re keeping it.”
Lorn shivered and looked towards the stars. He had always been an introvert. He was interested in mythology and theology, and fascinated with human nature. He always listened to his heart before anyone else. He trusted his instincts more than he trusted his greedy partner. Lorn and Krono had been best friends for nearly thirteen years. They grew up together, and they were like brothers. Therefore, he knew better than to trust Krono when it came to this sort of thing. He had bad judgment.
“My grandmother told me stories about these moors when I was a little boy, Krono. She’d roll over in her grave if she knew I was wandering around out here, especially this late at night. I’m not being superstitious. All the old people say it, and they truly do believe it. They say that Vithrath never really died, Krono. They say he’s still alive, and he lives in the darkest cave in the heart of the tallest, oldest mountain in the land.” With a forlorn expression, he pointed at the rocky, behemoth hills in the distance. “And everyone knows the Eovroth Hills are the tallest mountains on this side of Ryuuxalar.” Mortal fear was welling up in the young demon’s heart. His blood was running cold, and he felt small and insignificant.
“They thought they killed him. They thought that he was gone forever. But every so often, something strange happens out here. It’s really true, Krono.” By looking into his partner’s eyes, Krono could tell that he really did believe what he was saying. “I knew a boy who came out here by himself one night. It was years ago, when I was still a kid. He was about fifteen at the time, I think. He came out here with his dog, and nobody ever saw him again.” There was a deadly pause. “Until his body was found at the bottom of a well a few miles from this very spot.”
Cythrath immediately jumped. The words stung his mind like the coldest ice. “At the bottom of a well…” He whispered it to himself, and remembered his strange vision from before. He remembered how the maggots became a dragon.
Krono shrugged. “Why the hell would there be a well out here, anyway?”
“Not a normal well, you moron! They dug huge holes in the ground and used them in their rites! They summoned things out of them! Dark things that should never have been born, out of the center of the Earth…” His voice trailed off. “I can’t believe you don’t know any of this… Don’t you know anything about the past? Haven’t you ever wondered about the history of our world at all?”
“I’m not afraid of those things, Lorn. Everybody knows that Vithrath has been dead for almost two centuries now.”
“Then what about what happened a few years back? Remember when they found all the missing people, Krono? Remember when they found them all cut up, rotting in dried blood in a hole out by the mountains? Who put them there? If it wasn’t Vithrath, then it was the devil himself!”
Krono chuckled. “There’s no proof that those people were the ones who disappeared from our city. King Marduk told us all that they were just prisoners. Prisoners from other planets that we experimented on. They had to dump the bodies somewhere, and that was the perfect place.”
“Those people weren’t prisoners! They were obviously the same race as you and me. Marduk is a liar, and he has been for the past thousand years. He just knows what will happen if word gets out that Vithrath is rising again.” Lorn was getting tired of arguing. He just wanted to get out of this terrible place. He was growing more terrified by the minute. More and more dark tales kept popping into his head. He kept remembering blood-chilling legends that made him want to run for his life.
“You know as well as I do that you’re just letting your imagination go wild.” Krono looked as confident as ever, now. However, on the inside, he was feeling a bit anxious. “If Vithrath rose again from the shadows, the entire hemisphere would be in chaos. The generals would call us all to arms, and a plan would be unleashed immediately. The main focus of all the government’s efforts would be directed at bringing him down! If Marduk or any of the others had any suspicions, we would have heard about it by now.”
Lorn muttered something to himself.
“You’re just getting antsy because we’re out in the middle of nowhere.” Trying to reassure his friend, Krono frowned. “Anyone would be nervous, if they thought about all the old stories about this place. But the truth is, there’s nothing out here anymore but weary travelers. Maybe something awful happened on these moors, but that was long before we were born.”
By saying these strong words, he was trying to reassure himself as well as Lorn. But it wasn’t working. He suddenly got an odd feeling, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He could have sworn he saw something dart through the trees in the distance, out of the corner of his eye. But when he tried to focus on it, it was gone.
“Listen, Krono. I have a really bad feeling in the pit of my gut.” When Lorn said this, his voice was trembling. “Let’s just leave the past alone, and forget we ever came out here, okay? I say we just head back to the city and ditch this kid. When someone finds him, they’ll just think the wolves got him or something. Let’s just wash our hands of it.”
Despite the fact that he was growing scared, Krono’s greed still prevailed. “Fine, we’ll leave. But we’re taking the coin with us.” He looked down at Cythrath, who was lying as still as a rock on the ground. His breathing appeared to be shallow, and he was very pale. “If he ever does wake up, he won’t even know what hit him. He’ll crawl back to town and think he dropped it along the way or something.” However, Krono couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling of unease he felt when he looked at the injured boy. “Is this guilt?” He spoke very quietly, as if to himself. “Or is it fear?”
Both emotions were somewhat foreign to him, up until now. He had lived a lawless, deceitful life for as long as he could remember. He always stuck to the shadows. Krono was an outcast of society, and everything he ever owned was stolen or won from a gamble. Years of living as a bandit had made him calloused. Very rarely did he experience any empathetic emotions, especially guilt. The only person he ever thought about was himself. He spent the entirety of his short, pitiful life pursuing his own desires.
Fear was also unknown to this shadow of a man. Up until now, his attitude about life was very indifferent. If anyone asked, he would boldly state that he didn’t care if he lived or died. But alone on the moors under a wicked full moon, he suddenly didn’t feel so brave. When he was staring terror straight in the eye, he discovered that he, too, was afraid. Facing the horrors of forgotten centuries had brought out his true nature. He began to regret ever leaving the city on that cold, lonely night. As the reality of the situation settled into his racing mind, his blood turned to ice.
Krono stared off into the distance for a moment. He was suddenly amazed by the sheer height of the surrounding trees. They reached towards the sky in a way that made him feel like a little bug. Their majestic bows were illuminated by the moonlight, like something out of a dream. Faint, damaged spider webs weaved through some of the higher branches. He shuddered as he imagined the size of the spider that crafted such a web.
He took a deep breath and inhaled the cool air. It was much more refreshing than the polluted air from the city. Strangely, it felt like it was the first time he breathed in a very long time. By accepting his fear, he felt like he was relinquishing a heavy burden. All these years he had lied to himself, and tried to act like he didn’t care. But now he realized that he truly did appreciate this strange, fragile thing known as life.
Looking down at Cythrath, he noticed that his breathing was growing a bit more regular.
Cythrath was lost in thought. He was trying to stay very still, but this act was growing tiresome. He longed for the bandits to take their leave, so he could stand up and move freely again.
Krono reached into his pocket and dug out the weird coin. It displayed countless signs of antiquity. It looked like something a grave robber would dig up, or like a piece of old space pirate treasure. “Something tells me we should hold on to this. It seems special. I know you don’t like the idea of bringing it back, Lorn. But some things are worth risking your life for.”
Lorn appeared to be mesmerized by the tarnished coin. He stared at it for a moment, almost longingly. “Let me see…” His hand trembled a bit as he reached out for it. When Krono placed it in his hand, he jerked back a bit, as if he had stuck his hand into a fire.
Studying it for a moment, he had the oddest feeling. It was almost as if he had seen this word somewhere before. “Cythrath…” He read it to himself in a hushed tone. “Cythrath…”
Suddenly, a scream from the depths of Lorn’s terrified heart resounded throughout the land. Pure, unrestrained madness came to life in his eyes. He fell to his knees. “It’s … the old alphabet.” His words were barely audible, as his voice shook with fear. “In the old days… They didn’t speak the way they do now.”
Krono swore he saw a tear run down Lorn’s cheek. He could sense his friend’s panic, and he too became horrified by the revelation.
“It’s the old northern dialect… Cyth… Vith…” His words shifted to an inaudible muttering.
Both of them were too afraid to notice that Cythrath had finally staggered to his feet. A cruel chuckle uncharacteristic of a child rang through their ears.
The two bandits backed up, clinging to each other, now. Lorn threw the coin on the ground before they tried to run. In a fraction of a second, they both turned their backs and began to bolt through the trees.
They didn’t get very far before they were intercepted by a tall, robed figure. Like something out of a nightmare, he gripped Lorn in a fearsome chokehold. Another creature revealed itself, stepping out of the shadows to headlock Krono. They had a strange, musty odor that only added to the terror of the whole situation. As the minions forced the bandits to turn back around, their hearts nearly stopped at what they saw.
“I descended from the stars three centuries ago to reign over your majestic world. I ruled your people with an iron fist for a hundred years! Everyone in the world thinks I died, along with my glorious empire. But you can’t kill that which was never alive to begin with!” Laughing maniacally, Vithrath’s body began to emit a blazing purple glow. His flesh morphed and boiled. The childlike face peeled off to reveal the monster underneath. His bones grew instantly, and within seconds he was standing at his true height. The skin pulled off to expose muscle and bloody tissue. But just as it had shed, new skin grew out of thin air. There were a few clumps of hair lying at his feet.
Deception and disguise was one of the first tricks Vithrath had ever perfected. Most people were so shallow and weak-minded that they would never even question any of his shapeshifting disguises. By doing a simple black magic trick, he could change his body into the shape of any person he could possibly imagine.
His hair was long and white, reaching farther than his waist. It flowed elegantly down his back. He wore a robe similar to the ones his minions were wearing. Menacing red eyes pierced the heart of anyone who dared to gaze into them. Vithrath’s skin was nearly white, and so thin that many of his veins were faintly visible.
Krono’s eyes spun around wildly. He looked over at Lorn, and found that he was unconscious. Either the cloaked demon had choked him out, or he had fainted. He felt very faint as well. Nothing he was seeing made sense at all. Countless questions raced through his frantic mind. He had the strange sensation that everything he had ever been told about the nature of the world was a lie. He had no idea what to say, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “So I suppose you’re going to kill me…”
When he looked over at Lorn, he felt sorrow rise up in the pit of his stomach. His face had turned purple, and it looked like the demon was still applying force to his neck. Intuition told him that he was already dead. To Krono, it seemed obvious that the same fate was in store for him.
Vithrath laughed again, as if he was mocking him. There was something haunting about his presence. Krono had never felt like this before. There are no words to describe what took place in his mind at that time. His entire life had been spent living without feeling, without experiencing any emotions but greed and lust. But there he was, face to face with one of the most legendary people in the history of his world. The man who had sent all of Ryuuxalar into a state of madness for a hundred years. The man who overcame death itself. The man that he saw in his nightmares as a child.
He was strangely calm for such a cataclysmic, life-changing moment. It was almost as if he was at peace with his fate. The shadowy figure restraining him was beginning to hurt his neck badly. But he knew he couldn’t pass out yet. This was his last chance in all of time and space to be alive. He was going to die. He thought he was plundering an innocent little boy, but his victim turned out to be the legendary Devil himself. Karma was cruel.
Krono realized he should have had more sense. Why would a little boy be out in the mountains by himself at this ungodly hour? It was obviously bad judgment on his part. But it was too late now. He dug his own grave, and the time had come to lay in it. All those years of murdering innocent people, robbing unsuspecting victims, and disregarding everyone else’s feelings had finally caught up to him. But somehow he felt relieved to know that there was some justice in the world.
Muttering to himself, Krono stared at the devil god with empty eyes. This was it. He had laughed at death for all these years, but it wasn’t so funny when it finally caught up to him. Now he knew how all his past victims felt. He remembered the little girl he had raped and killed one lonely midsummer’s night, many years ago. Sometimes in his nightmares, he still heard her screaming. He recalled the day he slaughtered the Mistress of Vrothwrath for her emerald dragonite diamond, and how her children had cried when they found their mother lying there on the floor. The past flashed before his eyes in slow-motion.
“Your regrets burn so furiously that I can taste them, young one.” Vithrath looked delighted, and licked his thin red lips. He savored the imperceptible taste, and laughed to himself. “Doesn’t everything look a bit different when your life is flashing before your eyes? But no tears cloud your vision… Only dreams of what would have been and could have been.”
Krono nodded. He watched in dismay as the dead body of his lifelong friend fell to the ground.
“Why?” In all his disbelief and weakness, he could only manage to choke out a solitary word.
“Because what goes around comes around, young one.” The thought seemed to amuse Vithrath. He ran a bony hand through his hair, and clasped the beautiful jewel that hung from his neck by a grotesque chain. “Of all the people in the world… Of everyone else I could have revealed myself to, I chose you.”
Krono couldn’t stop himself from feeling honored. The legendary devil god from ages past had chosen him, of all the people in the world. Knowing this made him feel incredible. It gave him the strength to speak again. His words were stifled by the hooded figure’s rough grip, but he managed to choke them out. “For what? What did I do to deserve this? Why haven’t you killed me yet? Why—“ Suddenly, he stopped. He swore under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment.
“This is like something out of a nightmare. Kill me now and set me free, before I go mad.” Sweat ran down his forehead.
Smirking deviously, Vithrath continued to stare at Krono. “Don’t you see? You already are free! You’ve been free since the day you were born, to roam the Earth and do as you wish. You chose to abuse your power… To impose your wrath on weaker beings. I can see it in your eyes.”
The hooded figure jerked Krono’s head upward, and forced him to stare at the demon before him. His cold grey eyes grew wide as they met Vithrath’s. Their gazes locked together, and for a moment, everything in Krono’s world went black. His memories, his dreams, his desires, his fears… All returned to nothing and merged into one. Everything was dark, and his heart was one with the monster’s. He was exposed and weak, ready and willing to die. He forgot who he was and everything he ever stood for.
Vithrath enjoyed disgusting vistas of carnage and pain. He saw Krono and Lorn take turns bashing a woman’s skull in to steal a few gold coins. He saw Krono degrade a little girl to tears. In one glorious display of violence, he stole her virginity and her life. The visions of the past overwhelmed Krono’s mind, as Vithrath dug through the blackest corners of his soul. The devil god saw everyone he had ever hurt.
Krono suddenly saw something grotesque and riveting. A giant hole in the ground… It was full of something that looked disturbingly similar to blood. Worms writhed in the vile goo, and a scaly, ebony arm began to stretch out… The rest was blurry, but he could have sworn he saw a dragon emerge from the pit.
When Krono’s vision returned, he was laying on the ground. The robed figure had stopped restraining him, and his head felt like someone had injected liquid nitrogen into it. There was a relentless ringing in his ears.
Vithrath stood before him in all his glory. Krono could practically taste the sheer power radiating from his being. Vithrath grinned and savored the gruesome memories. “Now you understand. They’re still with you to this day, you know.”
There was a pile of vomit next to Krono’s shaking frame. He still felt violently ill, and had the strange feeling that he would never be the same again.
“But never forget, young one... Whenever you’re alone in the dark… Whenever the full moon shines down on you from the black night sky… Whenever you’re alone, and no one’s there to hear you scream… They’re there. And I’m there, too. I’ll be in your heart forever, watching… Waiting for you to spill more blood. Waiting for you to tear more lives apart.”
Krono thought he was going to faint. The hooded figures had backed away, now. He rested his back up against a tree, and looked over at his partner’s dead, glassy eyes.
“All the pain you’ve ever felt… Every dark desire you’ve ever had. Every heart you’ve ever broken, every life you ever shattered. Every soul you ever touched in any way, be it good or bad… I’ve seen it all.” The glorious stone around Vithrath’s neck pulsed and glowed. It shone through the dark with an unearthly beauty. It was like nothing Krono had ever seen before. Every bandit in the galaxy would lust after a gem like that.
“And remember, Krono. As the worm became a dragon, I will become a king. I will reign over all of Ryuuxalar with an iron fist, and even Marduk will bow down to me. Everything you’ve ever seen will be mine someday! I will rise out of the darkness and take back my rightful throne, and I will drag the entire world to hell along with me!”
Krono’s world was spinning. He focused on the stars, across the universe and a million miles away.
“You know what will happen if you tell anyone what you saw here tonight… I don’t need to say any more.” Vithrath’s deranged grin was enough to make anyone stay silent for all eternity. Rows of fangs gleamed behind his wine-red lips.
“Keep up the good work, little one. I’m pleased with what you’ve done so far. Go forth and spread misery and pain throughout the land. You’re only bringing the world one step closer to where I want it to be.”
Vithrath beckoned to his loyal followers, and they trudged over to him. They didn’t say a word, but one looked back over his shoulder at Krono.
“Goodbye, Krono. I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
As soon as he had come, Vithrath was gone. He led his minions through the trees, and they swiftly disappeared into the forest. Krono heard one last maddening laugh. He covered his ears to refrain from going mad.
He laid there for a long time, trying to muster up the strength to walk. Eventually, sleep crept up on him and he passed out for a long time. Krono wasn’t sure how long he was out in the woods. All he knew was that when he awoke, the sun was high in the sky. His back ached from lying in a strange position all night. With a loud groan, he managed to climb to his feet.
His heart ached instantly when he saw Lorn, dead on the floor of the forest. A little bird was pecking at his eye. Krono screamed and kicked at the pest, and heaved his friend’s body up over his shoulder. He began the long, slow walk back to the city.
The next day, Krono left Ryuuxalar and made a promise to himself that he would never return. As the ship was leaving the space port, he was lost in his own thoughts. He remembered the monolithic mountains, which were said to be the tallest in the galaxy. He dreamed of the imperial halls in the capital city, known throughout the universe as the paragon of all architecture. His thoughts drifted to the days of his youth. Nostalgia overwhelmed him as he recalled how he chased Lorn around through peaceful thickets of trees that seemed to stretch for miles into the sky.
Then, those dreadful, demonic red eyes pierced through his soul once more. He remembered the nightmare that sleeps in darkness at the heart of his beloved homeworld. He remembered the warning, straight from the mouth of the only creature that he had ever feared.
Krono never looked back.
Flick, Click, Light Switch
I looked around me. Blackness. Blackness surrounded me. Blackness and nothing else. I shuddered as I saw it and looked straight ahead. Blinding. Blinding white. Blackness, blinding white, blackness blinding white. I had to choose one of them. And soon.
I knew I wasn’t a part of the blackness or the blinding whiteness. I didn’t know how but I knew. Cogito ergo sum. I think therefore I am. I think… Well, I think, for one. But I think because I can’t think of what the blackness or the whiteness is doing as what I am doing that I am of neither.
Well, I definitely certainly hoped I wasn’t of the blackness. I couldn’t see anything but the blackness or the whiteness, so I knew not what I was. Perhaps grey. But no. Grey would be in the middle, would it not? I am in the middle of the blackness. In the midst of the blackness. The blinding white is too far away for me to be grey. But, but… How do I know it’s too far away? The blackness and the whiteness show no distance. No distance can I perceive.
Hmmm… I thought. Well, perhaps… No, that doesn’t seem right.
Red. Red and white. Not black and white. Red and white. And I was white, pure white. Amidst red. The pure white was further away far, far away, far away from the pink. The pink where there were some red, some white, and more pink.
I saw wings behind me, and thought, angel. Was I an angel? Looking around me, in the red, I saw distinct figures now. There were demons. Yes, they were demons. Their wings were either covered in scales, or skin, rather than the feathers that adorned my own white ones. What was I doing here? Would I know? Could I know?
Perhaps. But for now I was here. And I could tell something else, as well. Danger. There was danger here. Not for the demons, they seemed proud, arrogant, happy. Danger to me? Was I hidden here? Unable to be seen? Perhaps. None of the demons seemed to pay any attention to me, at least.
But that still didn’t mean I was invisible to them. Not by far. They could just be ignoring me. Why? Why would I know. Wait… The danger… I remember now. The danger is to heaven. My home. Home. My heart drummed in my chest and I felt for sure that I would be noticed, paid attention to. No. No, not them. Perhaps I was invisible.
Heaven. Heaven was in danger. By these demons? Perhaps. It would seem so, and explain their mood, after all. I still couldn’t remember that much. Oh… Oh… Was… Could I be the reason? Could I be the cause for the endangerment brought upon heaven? Or could I be bait, or held for ransom? Could I be the cause of heaven’s downfall, if not the cause of the war that seemed to be about to take place?
Perhaps. But what would drive me to that? Hmmm… I couldn’t think. No, no, I mustn’t think of that. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Think, think. No, no. I don’t think I was. No, thank God. Thank my father, my creator. Thank God.
We were moving. We, me too. How could I be moving? I don’t remember ordering my limbs to move. No, no, they weren’t moving. Nor was I tied anywhere. I was just moving with them, perfectly still, and still at peace with myself as I remember now I had always been in heaven.
Hmmm… Perhaps the war is to begin now, I thought. Perhaps. Most likely, highly probable.
I rached out when we grew closer to the white. I was too deep in the red, much too deep in the red. I couldn’t reach… Couldn’t reach… Angels! Friends! Family! Do not weep for me, for I am here!
White amidst the red. Light amidst the dark. Pure amidst the wicked. Life. I remember life. Looking up at the sun. The sun, shining above, seeming so close, yet so far, heaven seeming further away than that, and yet the sun much more unreachable.
I remember reaching out to try and touch it. No, not the sun. Light. Light socket. The light was in my hand, not the sky. Ceiling had been above me, not the blue of the sky. What? What happened. Reaching out, further, further. Don’t turn it on! No! Death. Heaven. Purity. Hell. What? Hell. Why? Why? Hell. Heaven home. Hell…home? What? No. Why here? Why now?
Vanity. Vanity. Flick, click. Vanity switched on the light switch. Just before I put the light in. I did as I always did, put my fingers between them, and… Flick, click, Vanity switched on the light switch. Vanity. My love. Hell. Vanity. My murderer. Vanity, the woman whom I had shared my life, my love, my everything.
Vanity, her laughter soft in my ears, pealing, seeming innocent. NO! No! Vanity! Not hell! Not my Vanity! You’re too innocent! You couldn’t kill a bug! Flick, click, Vanity switched on the light switch. No, no Vanity! My darling Vanity! How did I get here? Jealousy? Love? Purity? Heavenly father help me help me! I love Vanity no more. She was… Cruel. She was… Heartless. I loved her. Loved. Not love. Please, please, rescue me.
Rescue me… Rescue me… Heavenly father above, God, God, help me, save me, from my past. Flick, click, Vanity switched on the lightswitch. Above me I saw a bright light. Brighter than the blinding whiteness of before. Was that possible? It seemed it was. Bright, bright light blinding me. ‘Safe.’ I whispered, and finally left the hell I was in. Flick, click, Vanity switched on the light switch.
