​​​​18 A Stay at Volg

‘WOVEN FROM DARKNESS and stone, formed with fire and bone,’ Mania read with a downturned mouth. ‘Of the blood of mortal man, in his true form he writhes in blackness and hate; he watches . . . he waits.’ The shraed slammed the overlarge tome shut. ‘Ugh, well now, this does not help one bit. I despise poetic incompetence.’

‘Written by an angel,’ suggested Manic.

‘Evidently. They are always so melodramatic with no appreciation for nuance.’

Her brother took the book from her, scrutinizing the hide cover. It looked too much like human skin for Lorn’s comfort. She thought it might be a copy of the White Daemoni or the zorast Book of Chains. ‘Perhaps there is a way to thwart him within these pages,’ said Manic. ‘You haven’t read it entire, dearest. Browsing is not reading.’

‘Oh, enough,’ she snapped. ‘I’ve been searching this library and every other for centuries as it is.’ She went quiet. Her hand reached out to his face. ‘I am sorry, my sweet. We search day after day while his strength grows. We had to sneak home under his nose. The indignity! It is vexing and you know I hate being vexed, more than being upset.’

‘What is it you two are looking for?’ Lorn sat in a corner of the ravaged main hall. Volg was a crumbling ruin with much of it, apart from this tower, open to the elements. ‘Is it some sort of magical spell to destroy the Grim? I thought you shraeds were supposed to be deadly or something. I have to say, I’m unimpressed.’ A stench of sulphur filled the tower, carried by the wind from a lava field. The waves of the Melt Ocean pounded what remained of the fortress on one side. At least Mania was talkative. If not for her, Lorn would’ve learned nothing. The brother was as grumpy as the sister was cheerful.

‘She asks in such a tone,’ said Mania with a frown, ‘but does she deserve an answer?’

‘It is your pet, my dear. You decide.’

‘Hey, wait a minute. I am no one’s pet, okay? Prisoner, fine, if it’s what you want. Ally ... well, I’d accept it with certain conditions, but I am not a pet.’

‘Such a wonderful specimen, isn’t she?’

‘I’m not one of those either.’ Whatever that was.

‘A wonder she does not wilt beneath my gaze. Look at the sorrow and oh such pain, so delicious, and yet there at the core, do you see it, brother? Resolve, determination, strength, and fire, all shot through with a hint of darkness. Remarkable. How tremendously complex, but is she aware, dearest? Does she know the truth of her own self?’

‘Obstinacy is all I see,’ the brother muttered, clearly bored.

‘Yes, dear, but I believe I should answer her nonetheless. We do have our responsibilities.’

‘Ugh, such a horrid concept. However, as you will. Please, do not touch it again. There are limits to my tolerance in these matters. You go too far, sometimes.’

Mania tutted in an irritated manner, and said to Lorn, ‘Please, forgive us for our recent treatment of you. It was a necessity. May we put it behind us?’ Lorn had undergone a further extensive and invasive examination upon arrival at Volg. Mania had brooked no argument. The shraed had used her dark powers to subdue her belligerent guest, as Lorn had decided to argue a lot.

Since then, Lorn had attempted to wait patiently, wondering how to escape and if escaping was worth the effort. She shifted on her stone seat. Rows of skin-bound books filled the walls on all sides, reaching some forty feet high. The shraeds had kept her from harm overall, and she knew irritating them wasn’t a good idea. Still, they did go on a bit. It was what they were after, which bothered her. They had not once mentioned the Stone, or asked about it.

Non-human, despite the illusion of their appearance, they displayed elements of humanity. The idea was disturbing, and Lorn had to admit, not dissimilar to how she had felt about Threadfin Todder. She’d waited so long to meet a viral, and had felt disappointment at first. He’d been too human, too like everyone else. It was, however, his humanity that had won her over. In some ways, his humanity was more honest. She wanted to hate Manic and Mania because of what they were but she couldn’t.

Power surged through Mania. A double set of wings erupted into existence and unfurled, their ethereal feathers a shade of black and dark amethyst. She rose in a spiral of darkness to replace the tome. Lorn knew this duo were dangerous. Her association with them might prove fatal. They also represented everything Threadfin Todder existed to destroy, although, these two did seem different. Death wasn’t the issue, anyway. Its timing was. Oh, why does everything have to be so complicated?

Along with many other memories, Lorn possessed an innate knowledge of shraeds. Individual shraeds sought power and fought one another. It was self-destruction that defined Tartaros. Unfortunately, they were limitless in number, destroying everything in their path as they consumed themselves. These two had united, which was itself unique, never mind calling each other brother and sister.

A billowing cloud formed on the floor at Manic’s feet. ‘Well now,’ he said, studying the manifestation, ‘look at this, and without an invitation no less.’ Lorn rose and moved to his side to look down at the image. She knew he hadn’t meant her, but didn’t care. Irritating him was fun.

‘It appears,’ said Manic in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘we have company.’ Of course, he was addressing Mania. He rarely spoke to Lorn, but she thought she could win him over.

Thousands of dark figures clambered the rocky hillside beyond the fortress. Most appeared human in form. Among them however, were many of odd shapes and origins. Some moved on numerous legs, other slithering over the ground on their bellies, while some had wings and flew above the horde.

Manic’s form shimmered like disturbed ink. The illusion of his humanity vanished. In their true form, shraeds were a bilious ethereal presence, with vast wings twenty feet in length. The figure between those wings was a writhing mass of shadow, like ethereal black snakes ever consuming one another.

Pale ovoid eyes regarded Lorn, before Manic rose effortlessly, and passed through the stone wall.

Mania had since returned to the floor, but she remained in human form, which she at least appeared to enjoy.

‘It’s the Grim out there, isn’t it,’ said Lorn, ‘or at least his army.’

Mania smiled. ‘Anyone arriving uninvited always irritates him. I hope you forgive my rudeness, but I must join Manic and greet our guests. It is, after all, the duty of a hostess is it not?’ Her form shimmered and darkened as her brother’s had done. A sticky black residue remained on the stone from her passage. Staring at it, Lorn shivered in revulsion. So much she knew about Tartaros, and much she did not.

She looked down at the black cloud, which Manic had left open. Within it, she saw what was happening outside with a bird’s eye view. Manic and Mania stood at the top of the fortress. Mania placed both hands on the fortress battlements. Writhing tendrils of power issued from her, head to toe. From the stone of Volg emerged hundreds of dark figures.

Within the enemy forces, Lorn recognised other shraeds. Their dark forms loomed over their beast or human-like companions. It appeared at least one fortress in the Styx had joined with the Grim. There were four fortresses on four continents, the other three being Balax, Torrent and Malar. Powerful shraeds ruled two of those, and enslaved thousands if not tens of thousands of their kind.

Arrayed in a defensive line before the fortress was Mania’s army. Thousands of shadow creatures, and as one, they charged the Grim’s forces.

The armies clashed in a black storm of wings, talons, and brutal carnage. Lorn knew the Grim’s forces had assailed three of the four fortresses, as he sought to break the hold Tartaros had on this world. The fortresses also warred with one another. If one would align itself with the Grim, they were in trouble.

Volg’s tower shuddered from the impact of sorcery. Dust drifted down, cracks erupting in the walls and ceiling as another impact shook the ruins. The Grim’s forces were gaining. It seemed inevitable they would overwhelm Volg. Their numbers had grown by tens of thousands, the plain a broiling mass.

About brother and sister rose an architect’s nightmare of fallen stone and shattered rock. Manic held out his hands, palms up. A surge of raw power sent those pieces of Volg hurtling into the enemy. Millions of fragments augmented with his power scythed through their ranks. He spread the blows across the enemy’s face, but it was obvious to Lorn it wouldn’t be enough. There were too many. It appeared Mania agreed as she vanished from sight.

Manic let darkness enfold him. Power lashed the battlements trying to destroy him. Lorn watched the Grim’s forces obliterate Mania’s manifestations, and encircle the walls. Enemy shraeds rose on dark wings. Each time, Manic slapped them down, and they thundered into the rocky hillside below, annihilating companions. Lorn couldn’t deny it. He was powerful.

Mania gripped her arm breaking her view. She seemed to have a disturbing interest in physical contact. Right then, the shraed looked worried. Not an emotion Lorn had seen in her before, which scared her.

‘We must depart, dear,’ said Mania in a nonchalant tone. ‘Our uninvited guests are proving unreasonable and are outstaying their welcome. In this day, this age, such deplorable manners ... well, it doesn’t matter. We must leave.’

‘And go where?’

‘Across the Ever Ocean. Yes, yes, it will do. Most of those cretins outside consist of those irascible revenants the Grim does insist upon. They will not follow. The others, my dear brother is taking care of as we speak. All will be well.’

‘The Grim has sent them for me, hasn’t he?’

‘Oh, no, he doesn’t know you are our guest. Not at all. My brother and I do not find him agreeable. Nor he us. It’s an old argument, which erupts from time to time. Our arrival did not go as unnoticed as we’d hoped. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘Just you and me?’

Mania sighed. ‘Manic will ... negotiate a little longer, while you and I nip out the back door in a manner of mortal speak.’

Lorn cast one final look at the scene within a black cloud floating inches above the floor. The brother was weakening. Creatures crawled, slithered, and climbed, hurling themselves at wards he had encased himself in. The human-like combatants, the revenants, filled the plain and surrounded the fortress base, unable to do anything.

It was obvious the Grim was counting on numbers to overwhelm. Several ghostly emanations oozed about the fortress base. Volg shook. They were attempting to bring it down.

Mania opened her arms, and when Lorn hesitated, gestured with impatience. She was in part-human, part-shraed form, the mix giving the human a headache. Having no other option, she stepped into the embrace, and felt warmth. She imagined it was her mother’s arms, and the song came back to her. Cocooned within those wings, she barely felt the blast as the fortress imploded. She peered out through the shadows at the devastation, but swirling darkness obliterated it from sight.

All the while, her mother sang to her, and Lorn Larthuz fell asleep.