Читать книгу The Vlishgnath Chronicles - Daniel Mitchell - Страница 16

Episode 10

Jonathan had barely finished saying that it was a mistake to have followed him, when Maximus stepped between Vlishgnath and Thunderclese, gripping Judgment tightly in his right hand and advancing on the LeFay’s dangerously.

“That’s far enough,” Jonathan said pointedly.

Alexander swiftly raised his hand, gesturing and issuing a soft whisper in the arcane tongue.

Immediately, Maximus’s march was halted, as he walked full force into an unseen wall. Upon realizing what had happened, Maximus roared in anger, drawing back his left fist and slamming it forcefully into the invisible barrier. Upon witnessing this, Alexander closed his eyes in derision, shaking his head and laughing silently.

Jonathan, however, remained wholly unamused, turning his attention to Vlishgnath. “If you’ve any sense about you, you’ll take your bull by the harness and be gone from this place.”

In response, Maximus slammed his fist against the transparent divider.

Vlishgnath, however, still spoke with the same deathly chill of a harnessed rage. “You’ve murdered countless innocent people. Your house itself has become a perversion of nature. You drove your own children from your home with your sick self-indulgences, and slaughtered the ones that were too afraid to run but had the decency not to join you. I have seen many wicked men in my time, Baron LeFay, but you are by far the most vile, heartless human being I have ever encountered. Tell me, good Baron…did you carve up your wife the same way you did your son?”

Jonathan snarled, practically spitting his words. “DON’T preach to ME, BOY! You cannot possibly hope to grasp the gravity of the situation at hand!”

Bartholomew, the larger of the sons, remained statuesque, his rippling muscular arms folded across his broad chest, engaged in an intense stare-down with Maximus. The fear typically associated with looking upon the brutal, giant paladin was noticeably lacking in Bartholomew’s almost eager expression. Maximus responded in turn, lunging Judgment point first into the stone ground directly in front of him, both arms grasping the handle as he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his expressionless helmet visor directed ominously toward the blonde LeFay son.

It was Thunderclese who responded to the Baron in an outraged tone. “You willingly consorted with demons! For that alone, we would hunt you to the ends of the earth, if only to—”

“Demons?!” Jonathan interrupted, laughing in genuine albeit twisted amusement, then turning to look upon them with a sinister smile. “No mere demon could grant me what I am about to receive! I am the herald of the elder god Belphegor’s return! Soon the Devourer will consume this world, and I shall be at his side, the power of a god bestowed upon me for my service in delivering this world unto him. So do not mistake me for some simple-minded tinkerer in the dark arts, boy. You are pitting yourself against forces the likes of which even that feeble old man, Vogoth, could never imagine!”

At that, Thunderclese launched himself against the invisible wall as well, beating on it with the pommel of his sword. “Cowards! Keep the high priest’s name from your mouth, for a tongue as wicked as yours deserves not to speak his name! Quit hiding behind your sorcerous wall and face us!” That said, he slammed the pommel of his sword against it one last time, his visor pointed at Alexander as he did so.

In turn, Alexander merely smirked and shook his head again, his voice smooth and calm, the way one would expect a serpent’s to be. “Pathetic.”

Vlishgnath stepped forward. His voice was very plain, spoken in the way one does when speaking a universal truth. “You cannot escape us, Baron LeFay. I have come to cleanse this land of the vile taint you have brought upon it, and your false messiah will not stand between us when your final judgment is at hand.”

With a final condescending scoff, Jonathan turned his back on them. “Do not follow us. Your god has no presence in the Devourer’s realm.”

That being said, he stepped through the portal. Bartholomew turned his head, continuing to glare back at Maximus, until he too disappeared through the shimmering red surface, followed lastly by Alexander, who didn’t even deign to look at Thunderclese as he moved to join his brother and father.

As soon as Alexander disappeared, Thunderclese’s hand that had been resting on the invisible wall passed through where it had been stopped. Almost immediately, Maximus hefted Judgment up from the ground, and the three paladins descended upon the portal. Vlishgnath stepped through first—unafraid—followed by Maximus and Thunderclese. Paladins of Mithos did not fear encounters with demons nor the threat of unknown realms.

On the other side of the portal, they found themselves confronted by a vast, seemingly infinite space, all of creation stretching out around them with an infinite number of stars and spiraling galaxies dotting the blackness of infinity. Standing on a large, free-floating stone walkway, another portal stood directly to their right, the surface of it yellow in color and of a wispy, smoke-like quality. The walkway in front of them was roughly five feet wide, the sides hazardously unguarded by any sort of railing, simply dropping off into the expanse below.

A ways out, the walkway split off into a four-way intersection, making a large circle and eventually rejoining to form a continuous loop. Extending out into the center of the large circle, a small dais was erected to draw attention to an altar. Awestruck by the magnificence of what they saw, at first Vlishgnath and Thunderclese simply stood and gawked. Even Maximus took a moment to look around and nod at how impressive the scenery was. Then, spotting the altar, Thunderclese tapped Vlishgnath, and the two sheathed their weapons before making their way out along the treacherous path.

At the center, the erected altar stood roughly four feet high, and the area was wide enough for two people to stand before it and read the placard on the front. On either side, torch sconces held lit torches, as the dim quality of light would have made it difficult to read. At first, a mass of what the two presumed to be an unknown alphabet swirled around in a cluster, until gradually they shifted into recognizable characters and began arranging themselves to form words.

Thou standest at the mouth

of Belphegor the Devourer

Offer thine tribute

To the locust god

And if he findest thine tribute sufficient

Thou shalt receive his blessing

After reading the words, Vlishgnath and Thunderclese looked at each other for a moment, then peered over the edge into the middle of the circle. No dazzling points of light were to be seen; in fact, no light at all escaped the seemingly bottomless, gaping hole in the center of the circular walkway. Vlishgnath stared into the darkness for several seconds, then reached over and lifted one of the torches from its sconce, tossing it in an upward arc so it would drop into the hole. The moment it fell past the walkway, the light suddenly went out as the whole thing disappeared completely. The two men took a startled step away from the edge of the walkway, pausing for only a moment to beat a hasty retreat back to the portal landing where Maximus awaited them.

When Thunderclese spoke, he sounded somewhat shaken. “Let’s not go back out there.”

Vlishgnath shook his head. “I’m guessing they didn’t jump in there, so there’s only one other way they could have gone.”

“Then let’s get to it. We’ve already fallen behind.”

With a nod, Vlishgnath led them through the yellow portal.

When they emerged this time, their feet were met with the familiar yield of sand, and they found themselves staring at a crimson ocean, contrasted by a faintly orange and royal purple sky appearing to be in its twilight hour despite its lack of a sun. Bizarre crustacean creatures the size of house cats clattered along the shoreline and settled in a cross–legged fashion just out of reach of the flooding tides.

What appeared to be a man, wearing a plain traveler’s cloak with the hood drawn up, sat nearby, and out at his side was a simple monk’s staff stuck in the sand. As the three paladins took in their surroundings, the man stood, turning to face them, and pulled back his hood. His skin was a dark blue, his eyes a cardinal red set with wide black pupils. A crown of small horns adorned his bald scalp, a few of which looked as if they’d been snapped off painfully. His ears were pointed, and at the tip of his right ear something appeared to have taken a small bite out of the lobe, the wound having long healed over. His clothes were dark colored, simple, and loose fitting, his fists wrapped in tightly coiled thin rope to form gloves that extended up to his mid-forearm.

Looking upon the paladins, he tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What brings three paladins of Mithos so far from the watchful guidance of their god?” His voice had a surprisingly smooth, pleasant quality to it, his words almost as perfectly enunciated as Vlishgnath’s. As he spoke, he revealed fang-like teeth and a dark purple tongue to match the inside of his mouth.

Upon being recognized, Vlishgnath held his right hand up with his elbow bent at a ninety degree angle, his palm flat with his fingertips pointing upward in the church’s recognized sign of peaceful intent.

When the man returned the greeting, Vlishgnath reached up, took his helmet off, and tucked it in its usual spot under his shield-bearing left arm.

“To be honest, we know not where we are, presently,” said Vlishgnath. “We are in pursuit of three men whom we believe have come this way. Perhaps you’ve seen them? A man between middle-aged and elderly with his two sons, one a muscular blonde and the other a black haired young man dressed in mage’s robes.”

The blue man pondered this for a moment, then nodded. “I have seen them here from time to time. Belphegor worshipers, if I’m not mistaken.”

Vlishgnath nodded in return before speaking again. “My apologies friend, it seems I’ve forgotten my manners. I am Sir Vlishgnath the Cleansing Light, this is Sir Thunderclese the Divine Might of Mithos, and that is Sir Maximus the Bane of Necros.”

The blue-skinned man bowed reverently, to which all three of the paladins responded in turn, before the stranger spoke. “I am Asmodeus, though many know me as the son of the fallen one.”

Vlishgnath’s eyes widened.

Thunderclese glanced over at Maximus before shouting out, “He’s a half-demon!”

Asmodeus smiled gently at Thunderclese. “Is it not within the code of conduct you hold so dearly to judge a man not by his appearance, but by his actions?”

Thunderclese stammered, “Yeah, but—”

“Very good. I’d hate for any unpleasantness to arise. Besides, I long ago forsook my heritage and began to tread the path of enlightenment. Now, I believe I can answer a few of your questions that I’m sure you have.”

Vlishgnath turned and grinned at Thunderclese, shrugging his shoulders in mock helplessness before turning back to Asmodeus. “Can you tell us where we are?”

Asmodeus smiled back. “Indeed I can. You are on the Timeless Shore. To illustrate the implications of such, consider this: if time were a river, never ceasing in its constant flow, you are on the bank of that river as time passes you by.”

Vlishgnath quirked a brow. “You mean to tell me...”

Asmodeus nodded. “Right now, in this place, you, your companions, and I have ceased to age entirely. You’ll find the ‘daylight’ here never quite ends despite what you perceive to be the passage of time.”

Vlishgnath pondered this for several moments, then turned to Thunderclese. “This must be Belphegor’s reward that Jonathan was talking about. A timeless place where he could conceivably live for an eternity.” That said, Vlishgnath turned back to Asmodeus once again. “Tell me something, friend. How exactly did you come to be here?”

Asmodeus’s grin widened, and he drew a deep cleansing breath as if about to tell a rather long story. “Tell me, church knight...what do you know of the elder gods?”