The test of loyalty

A Chapter by Honourfish

Chapter 3: The test of loyalty:

Slowly lowering, with knobbed fingers the sea of threads under a thin blanket of white powder, the robed figure exposed his head to the harsh cold and dilated his nostrils absorbing the scent, and then excreting from its mouth a wave of heated water vapour. “Still this bright sickness pursues us Lykrac, no matter let it find us and suffer the consequences.” sneered the robed figure boring into the darkness covering Lykrac’s face as he joined his pupil’s facial expression and continued to lead, scarring the white silhouette with every step.

Small stubborn outcroppings of rock cowered as the pair withered upwards until the horizon was bathed in a thick musky white darkness, leaving all but a disproportionate natural stairway, generally ascending to the summit. Muted were the steps that followed as rough skin touched frozen stone with an anticipated echoing thud from that of the substance purer than the steps.

Atop the completely level white peak where only the brave scarce clouds hover over emerged master and pupil silently; disrupting minimally the tranquillity as they crossed the span to the opposite edge where the master sat adopting a meditation stance with Lykrac standing behind his right shoulder.

An immeasurable amount of time elapsed as light snow replaced the sea of blue that once was, masking the trail left in the middle of the landscape. Removing any sign that the place had been changed, except for the solid figures still waiting gathering white dust.

Mimicking actions from the past came Petherus joining the congregation atop the mountain. Long brunette, curling hair fell down her back infested with flakes of heavenly motes as she stood tall and proud sinking her lilac eyes through the endless robes opposing her.

“Welcome Petherus” rasped the robed figure “so nice of you to join us atop Krythom today.”

“Ha” roared Petherus loudly, “that it is, and it would be even nicer if some of us were not here.”

“Agreed” grated the robed figure slowly.

At that moment whirling round on the spot throwing the camouflage off himself the robed figure plunged the surroundings into darkness with an outstretched hand. Allowing herself one blink before she shot back through the heart of the dark fire a beam of pure light to the outline of where there was once a demon, but invoked by cackling, Petherus screamed “enough!” before circling her hands round her own head and flooded the darkness with drowning light which dissolved itself into the solution restoring the scene to its former clarity. Exposing the robed figure to have moved to the far right of Krythom where he stood waiting. “And to think all this fighting just to avenge a rotten worthless human” whispered the robed figure which carried clearly across the whole peak.

Now fully enraged Petherus sunk deep into her feral soul and unleashed a torrent of whirling golden light scorching the air’s pitiful resistance. Wordlessly retaliating the robed figure pointed at her and let flow a stream of blackness from the rotting nail tip. Flying soundlessly through the bright onslaught endlessly being encircled, until it reached its limit and the blackness expanded spontaneously into puffs of dark powder mutilating the light.

Again the robed figure inquired “but why go to all this trouble for a pathetic human?” showing signs of confusment in its tone, before a look of comprehension dawned which induced corrupted cackling. Now truly wild Petherus screamed losing all sanity, unsheathing her long sacred sword comprised of divinium glowing furiously with her passion, she bulldozed forward forgetting all sense of precaution.

The two entities met in an explosion of opposites. Petherus unleashing wild blows only to gain an escalating amount of frustration at the figures constant hand movements, blocking every attack she produced. Hours of non stop combat persisted as the equally matched opponents tore wounds into each other. No longer calm, the robed figure had also resorted to savagery to match that of Petherus occasionally clipping her flesh with scolding darkness which made her skin rupture and boil.

A climax suddenly peaked as the robed figure built up all his remaining energy and released its devastating effect upon Petherus, only to meet her wall of light that was consuming all her energy to prevent the force of the attack. With a last conjured effect Petherus flung her wall rapidly moving across the span of the mountain top. Lykrac dissipated into vapour escaping the attack, but the master too exhausted received its brunt, flinging him off the edge only hanging on by a putrid hand. Unable to remain conscious Petherus crumpled to the floor.

Reappearing wistfully Lykrac crept over to the ledge holding his master. Looking down his master’s weak face; it could hardly support its look of terror. With as small smile Lykrac pounded his staff into the stone crushing the bones in his master’s hand letting him fall to his death. Moving silently over to the mangled body, barely breathing, lay across the mountain top, Lykrac stopped and stomped his staff into her head destroying the bone, staining the blood dark red, which slowly formed a river trickling down Krythom.

“Your mother was a fool Artherus” sneered Lykrac, “What?” retorted Artherus obviously confused but hurt. “Petherus, your mother” leered Lykrac soaking in the beauty of his knowledge. “She’s not my mother” Artherus replied rather less confidently. “Oh but she is” sang Lykrac in a rasping voice, “I found out after our encounter that she and your father were very good friends in the Quercus, but then she ran away for no reason at the same time your father did, not mearly a coincidence, and both returned at the same time, yet Petherus alone and your father with a new woman and a baby.” laughed Lykrac.

“Your father got Petherus pregnant, they kept it quiet as a god giving birth is a usually a cause for celebration. But she knew of the other woman. Being the loyal god she was, she ignored her love and let your father be happy; she even gave up her own baby. She followed us with mad rage after hearing that we had killed her love and her baby.”

“LIES!” cried Artherus but with no real conviction, the truth stung too much. “It makes perfect sense. For a human to give birth to a god is rare but for a god to give birth to a god is unusually common” grated Lykrac leaning forward, boring into Artherus, gaining great pleasure from his devastation. “At least my mother stood up to you, and brought down your master!” Artherus retaliated, surprising Lykrac with his new found resolve. “Fool, he was no real master of mine!” spat Lykrac leaning even further forward. “I suppose family meant nothing to you then.” Said Artherus with a slight look of pity on his face.

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