David Dalglish - Blood Of Gods

Light poured from Karak’s mouth, creating a second, earthbound sun. The countless animals that had gathered-possibly close to one hundred thousand, both in the ring and hidden behind the trees-cowered from the god’s radiance. The energy that exited Karak’s body hung in the air, a brilliant golden cloud, and then slammed back down to the earth, coating the landscape with living fire. Velixar flinched and Aerland Shen screamed, but neither was touched by the descending light.

It was the animals that were engulfed. They screeched as one, the clamor so great that Shen dropped to his knees and covered his ears. Velixar looked on in wonder as creatures great and small began to writhe, their bodies warping and contracting, the bones beneath their flesh snapping and elongating. Fingers tipped with claws formed at the ends of furry appendages, snouts shortened, knee joints cracked as creatures that once walked on four legs rose up on two.

All the while, the transforming creatures bawled in pain. Every last one of them.

The blinding light that had engulfed the entire vicinity then disappeared with an audible pop . Karak’s mouth snapped shut, his arms fell to his sides, and he collapsed to one knee, panting.

“It. . is. . done. . ” the god gasped.

No longer did the beasts cry out in anguish. In fact, the only sounds to be heard were the rasping breaths of untold thousands. Chief Shen had both his swords drawn and stood hunkered down as if he expected a battle. Velixar touched the large elf on the shoulder. When Shen turned to him, Velixar saw his eyes were wide and shimmering.

For the second time that day, the chief of the Ekreissar was afraid.

“Put your swords away,” Velixar told him. “You have nothing to fear.”

He stepped in front of the elf without another word, gazing out at what his god had created. Animals that had once been creatures of the forest now stood with the posture of hunched men. Each beast’s body had nearly doubled in size: the elks were eight feet tall and slender; the wolves as large and broad as any soldier; the squirrels like malevolent, two-foot-tall imps; the birds varying from three feet to six in height, with talons sprouting from the ends of their wings. All of their eyes glowed yellow, much like those of Karak’s lions, the Final Judges Kayne and Lilah. Those eyes stared back at him, brimming with recognition. Then, in an act that surprised Velixar to no end, the beasts dropped to their knees, one after the other.

As one, their snouts opened, revealing fanged and stumped teeth alike, and their tongues undulated in their mouths as they tried to speak.

“Ka-rak,” they said in the voices of primitive children.

Velixar stepped up to what had been a goat a moment before. He placed his hand beneath its maw, lifting the creature’s head. Its eyes met his, and he could see fear, confusion, and anger in its stare. The thing growled. Velixar released it and stepped away, looking over the sea of fur and teeth. It was then he noticed the grass beneath his feet. Its color was a dull yellow, no different from before. He spun around and looked to the forest, where an audience of befuddled soldiers had gathered on its edge. Velixar saw that although the trees had no leaves, they still appeared hearty and healthy; their bark was still crisp, their sap still flowing from broken branches. He thought back to when they’d first arrived at Mordeina, to the dead valley they had entered, where the trees of the bordering forest were crumbling, brittle things.

“How?” he asked, gazing across at his god.

Karak raised his head. The deity’s flesh had lost its luster; his stately brown hair was matted; the glow of his eyes, dim; and his lips, like gray slugs in the middle of his face. Yet still he smiled.

“A piece of me lies within each of the creatures that stand before you now,” Karak said, his voice weak and rasping. “The same essence that created you, Velixar, the same essence that forged humankind on this land, now pulses in their veins. With the beasts Ashhur made, he gave not of himself, but took from the land. Mine, due to my essence, will be wiser. Stronger. Better.”

Velixar looked away, examining one of the wolf-men up close. Saliva dripped from its fangs, and it snorted when he drew near. So many of them. I cannot begin to imagine how much power this required. Velixar faced his god once more. Karak wavered on his knee and had to place one of his giant hands on the ground to keep from falling. There was also something odd about the expression on his face, a slight upturn to one side of his lips and his right eye twitching. It made Velixar recall Cotter Mildwood, the old man who had been driven mad when he read the scribblings in Velixar’s old journal. That was how Karak appeared now-a whisper away from madness.

“But at what cost, my Lord?” he asked.

“A necessary one,” Karak answered, a feverish grin crossing his features. “A willing sacrifice in the name of maintaining order. Now come to me, High Prophet, swallower of demons, and the greatest of all humanity. I lent you my power when you required it; it is time for you to return the favor.”

The pendant resting on Velixar’s chest leapt and pulsed. He felt his lips stretch into a grin. With determined strides, he stepped past a gawking Aerland Shen and marched up to the deity, holding out his hand. Karak’s fist engulfed his. Velixar closed his eyes, picturing the land in all its magical glory, siphoning the godly energy from the very air itself, filling the cosmic well. Power infused him, raced up his legs and into his heart, then down his arms and into Karak, filling the deity with renewed vigor.

The creak of steel sounded, as well as a low grunt. Velixar opened his eyes and craned his neck to see Karak standing at his full twelve feet, wavering slightly but radiating strength. The deity released his hand and stepped away from him. The thousands on thousands of beast-men dropped lower to the ground. Karak slowly turned in a circle.

“Beasts of Dezrel!” he shouted, and though he wasn’t nearly as thunderous as he’d been in the past, his voice was still imposing and incredibly loud. “You are my children now! I have given you strength beyond measure. I have given you knowledge. I have given you a second life! Who is it that you worship? Who is it that you adore?”

“Karak,” the beasts growled.

“Now heed my words, my children. A pair of enemies approach, enemies that wish harm to your creator. You will defend me with your claws and teeth. You will defend me with your very lives if need be!”

“KARAK,” came the vociferous howl of the beasts once more.

“Ia mapa ammen,” muttered Chief Shen.

“Now go, children of the forest! Bring pain to any that do not worship my name!”

Once more, it was a stampede. Thousands of newly altered creatures began to run, adeptly veering around the three in the center. Never once were they touched. The entire procession took nearly a half-hour to complete, until the last stragglers passed them by, barreling down the steep hill toward the Gods’ Road. On reaching the road, two-thirds of the beast-men veered to the west while the remaining third ran directly south. Velixar tore his eyes away from them, noticing the awed expressions on the audience of soldiers watching from the tree line. He then looked on as Shen stumbled up the hill, heading for the throng of elves that awaited him on the edge of the forest. They will not abandon us now. They would not dare. A chuckle escaped his throat, and he looked back at Karak.

“Will they be able to bring Ashhur to his knees?” he asked.

“If my brother is weak,” said Karak, eyes distant. “It is the delay that matters, and the indecision that their mere existence will cause my brother to feel. But they are strong, and my essence is with them. Even if they do not find victory, thousands of our enemy will die. Let us see just how committed to the chase Ashhur’s people are after the animals of the wild descend upon them.”