Vaughn Heppner - Giants

Adah’s head swayed back as she viewed the enchanting scene.

Spread out before them was a wide descending plain of lush grass. Far down at the bottom, perhaps ten miles away, was a small lake that sparkled with the sun’s light. Beyond the lake, maybe twenty miles, it was impossible to truly judge the distance, stood a rocky lichen-colored range of hills. From the hills flowed a ribbon of river. The most awe-inspiring sight, however, was the host of animals filling the plains. A vast horde of steppe ponies roamed to their left. Dust clouds rose above the ponies, and the thunder of their hooves was loud. On the horse-horde’s flank worked a pack of dire wolves. To the ponies’ right milled a mindless horde of long-horned bison, a seething mass of brown shaggy bodies with huge horns. To the bison’s right, and this horde extended out of view, were yellow-skinned antelope. A pride of lions followed them, although that section of the plain was presently peaceful. Dotted here and there were lone trees, and sometimes a stand of them circled what seemed like coin-sized waterholes.

“How many animals are there?” Joash asked in wonder.

Herrek shook his head.

The effect of the animals, the lush grass, the pristine lake, and the rugged hills, all added to a marvelous beauty. A huge flock of birds, dots from here, flew above the lake, while long-winged eagles soared high above everything else.

“Where are the mammoths?” Joash asked. “Surely by now we should have seen mammoths.”

Gens shrugged, but Adah asked, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Herrek said for Joash. “He’s simply dying to see mammoths. Ever since we came to Giant Land he’s been unable to ask about anything else.”

“There should be mammoths,” Adah said slowly.

“Zillith told me the same thing,” Joash said.

Gens shielded his eyes from the sun and scanned the plains. “No mammoths,” he said.

Herrek plucked a long blade of grass and put it in his mouth. He asked, “What does it mean that we haven’t seen any mammoths?”

“I don’t know,” Adah said, puzzled. “But I’m beginning to believe the reason is important.”

“What do mammoths fear?” Joash asked.

“Mammoths fear sabertooths,” Gens said, who seemed to be watching Herrek’s reaction.

“We must go back and tell Lord Uriah what we’ve seen,” Adah said.

“And what is that?” Herrek asked.

“That we’ve found no mammoths, and no sign of Elidad, other than his endless tracks leading inland.”

Without a word, Herrek spat the stem of grass and patted Gens on the back. Gens flicked the reins and drove toward the hordes of teeming animals.

Adah followed shortly.

In another mile they would reach the horse-horde and reach the dire wolf pack fighting over a pulled-down colt. Already vultures wheeled overhead.

Adah turned to Joash. “You must learn about the bene elohim, and then learn about their firstborn.”

Why couldn’t she forget such dreadful subjects? It was as if she was trying to teach him hidden lore, but for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom why.

She gave him the reins. Joash concentrated on the horses. They plodded on, every once in awhile bending down to take a bite of grass.

“Prepare yourself to learn about one of the worst tragedies of the Earth. For this is the true story of the bene elohim . This is the secret story of the great rebel. This is the dreaded ‘Song of Azel the Bene Elohim .’”

Joash tried to tell her that he wasn’t ready to hear such tales.

Adah cleared her throat and said, “Listen as I chant.”

Once, along with a myriad of others, Azel was Elohim’s Cherub. Yet, to these plotters came the Day of Rebellion. The war in the Celestial Realm was savage. Mighty were the spear strokes, graver still the wounds. At last the evil rebels were cast from the City, thrust into outer darkness. From there, they plotted. Many wished to implement certain schemes, others different ones. In the end, two lords rose up, two schools of thought proposed, that of Azel, and that of Morningstar.

“Come with me to the Garden Paradise,” Azel told his brethren. “For if we cannot rule in the Celestial Realm, let us be gods and beget races below.”

Many were swayed, and in a host they descended upon the doomed world. Using the stolen Rod of Creation, which Elohim had once wielded, Azel gave bodily forms to his brother rebels. He made it so each could sire a race after his own image. However the Rod of Creation was not a sword that any warrior could pick up and swing with skill, nor was it a smith’s hammer to be wielded by any sinewy arm. Nay, the Rod of Creation was a divine instrument, and in Azel’s hand, it turned upon him. In the changing of himself and his brother rebels, he chained all of them to bodily forms. No longer were they the princes of the air , but now they were bound to that which they could see, smell, hear, touch, and taste. They still possessed great powers, and supernatural were many of their feats, but both by their enemies, and by themselves, they were called the Accursed.

In their rage, Azel and the Accursed conquered humanity. They drove the human cattle before them, and doomed many to a horror beyond their ken. First Born, abominations of spirit and flesh, were generated between the daughters of men and the bene elohim . The First Born, in turn, spawned the Nephilim: giants, fiends, Gibborim, necromancers, and champions of renown.

The Dark Kingdoms arose, and but for the Shining Ones all would have been lost. For high in the Celestial Realm, those who had remained faithful to Elohim watched with growing fury. At last Balad the Blessed led a mighty host of Shining Ones to the Garden World. There they raised great legions of men and led them in the Accursed War. After a thousand years, the Dark Kingdoms fell, the bene elohim were dragged to off-world pits, and there chained in adamant until the end of the ages.

There, it’s said, Azel the Accursed still waits for the Final Judgment. Even now, he ponders the wisdom of his rebellion.

Joash blinked when Adah stopped chanting. He was awed at such a tale. Many questions filled him, and he had a terrible fear as well. He’d always hated Shamgar and Balak, but he’d never know the true terror of the First Born Gog and his Temple. How could humanity hope to fight and defeat such… abominations , now that the Shining Ones were gone?

He tried to say something.

“No,” Adah said. “Don’t speak. Ponder Azel’s fate. You have more to learn before you should speak.”

Joash gave her a bewildered look.

“I know why the mammoths have fled,” she said. “If you wish to learn why, then you must hear more. Do you understand?”

He nodded, but he didn’t understand. She touched his arm, squeezing it. He understood that! He liked it.

Adah said, “You are brave, Joash. Here on the forsaken steppes, on the edge of Giant Land, such tales are difficult to hear. And much harder still because you’ve talked with a giant.”

Herrek shouted in anguish.

Adah urged the stallions to gallop where Herrek knelt. Joash drew his spear and expected the worst. He was beginning to long for the safety of camp, and even more for the safety of far off Elon. He steeled himself for what he was about to see.

Joash saw a body lying in the grass. The stiff corpse wore the leathers of a runner. Joash grew faint and felt vomit rise in his throat. The front of the corpse’s head had been smashed in. Joash saw details of familiar things: a bone-handled skinning knife, an armlet of brass smeared with dried blood, an old pouch lined with rabbit fur. Inside the pouch, Joash knew, would be Ard’s lucky stone, one specially polished and purchased from a merchant of Further Tarsh.