The Undying God (6 page)

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Authors: Nathan Wilson

Tags: #adventure, #mystery, #god, #sexuality, #fantasy, #epic fantasy, #fantasy action

BOOK: The Undying God
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“Have you ever lost anyone?”

Arxu gazed through her silently. He
looked as though her story had made no impression on him
whatsoever.

“Have you ever lost anyone?” Nishka
repeated.

After she had shared something so
personal, he could only glare at her without empathy. Her hand
arced out in a slap before she even realized what she had
done.

“Say something!” she exclaimed. The
disconnected man didn’t even flinch at the blow. “Why don’t you say
anything?” The Nightwalker turned away.

“I died a long time ago.” Silence
gripped Nishka and she gawked at the being sitting across from her.
“I was murdered,” Arxu confessed.

Nishka lost her ability to breathe
suddenly. Her conversation with Arxu had taken a very surreal turn,
one she could not readily process. Arxu lowered his gaze to the
earth.

“Before I was murdered, part of my soul
was absorbed into a stone—” Nishka’s eyes darted toward the
smoothed stone dangling from the pendant around his neck. Its
luster was barely visible in the dark, as though it was a void into
the night. Arxu lifted his hand and touched the carved
jet.

“I did not thoroughly examine the
contingency spell I set in place. When I awoke, I was… changed. I
had lost the greater portion of my soul. My body was cold and weak.
I was forced to crawl to safety and remain there until I gathered
enough strength to escape.”

He faced Nishka and she looked away
uncomfortably. His empty, blue eyes still pierced hers.

“I created a contingency in the event
of my death—should I die, what little life force that remained in
the pendant would be transferred to my body so I might live again.
The remnant of my soul in the pendant restored me to life, but my
mind was radically altered. When I awoke, I was alone and my energy
was fading. My memories had been eradicated, including much of my
personality. I do not know if I possessed friends or family. I do
not know who I was before I died. Most of all, I am severed from
emotion.”

His hand slipped from the jet pendant
and rested on the leaf-strewn forest floor.

“All I retain of my former life is my
name, the knowledge of my death, and the vision of my murderer.” He
paused and allowed the silence to speak for him. “I had to relearn
my craft and reread my tomes. My emotions didn’t interfere with my
craft this time. I devoted many years to perfecting my skills and
surpassing my limitations. I am far more disciplined and in control
than I ever could have been in my past life.” He bowed his head.
“But it does not make up for the loss…” Nishka felt bound in place
listening to him.

“I cannot feel… anything,” he said,
searching for words. She could almost see the longing in his eyes,
as though spiritually lost. “I am detached from emotion. I cannot
feel like a human.” At last, Nishka found her voice
again.

“What can you feel?”

Arxu studied her, and with an
expression devoid of emotion, he answered, “Nothing.”

 

Chapter 6

 

Night descended across the city as
Margzor approached the Sepulzer temple. In the distance, the
silhouette of the horizon and its edifices lingered mysteriously.
Sepulzer was an opulent sanctuary for sin, a beautiful façade that
concealed a criminal netherworld that reveled in assassination,
prostitution, and slavery. It almost resembled a luxurious hell,
and for each vice there seemed an entire district dedicated to its
worship. The temple was perhaps the only pure thing in the wretched
city.

How strange, he thought, that no one
was present on the streets. He walked in solitude as the night
sheltered him from prying eyes.

Each step flowed in perfect unison with
the rest of his body, a tempered confidence marking every stride.
He was thankful that no one was there to witness what he would soon
do. This was the closest he had come to setting his plan in motion,
and he was determined not to let anyone intervene.

The temple was barely five steps
away.

He paused at the entrance and listened.
Margzor could hear voices inside, their tones suggesting worship.
He felt something squirming inside him, possibly disgust. He
reached toward the entrance and his fingers brushed against the
intricately smooth surface. Opening the doors, he entered a soaring
chamber with a tiled floor.

The space unfolded to a majestic
interior. He almost felt swallowed up by the great architecture, so
humbling and monstrous it seemed. It was difficult not to
appreciate the artistic effort that had been dedicated to the
temple’s construction. The vaulted ceiling loomed overhead,
supported by flying buttresses and immense pillars.

Flanked on both sides by columns, a
great aisle stretched out before beckoning him to the heart of the
sanctuary. Distant voices echoed around the temple with reverence.
Likely, the men and women were praying to their deity and asking
for blessings.

The concealing shadows washed across
the prayer hall like an eclipse.

The religious atmosphere was foreign to
him. He admired the fresco glistening with colors, milky whites and
azures that showed his reflection, but even these pure, illuminated
stones couldn’t distort the hideous nature of this
being.

He scanned the setting; the interior
truly was beautiful. He considered the male priest walking toward
him with a welcome expression. Margzor retrieved his sword, a keen
blade that looked as though fire pulsed inside the steel. Its edge
glistened voraciously in the dark, reflecting the dim light. It had
never tasted holy blood before.

The priest stopped as a look of horror
washed over his blanched face.

 

* * *

 

Nishka pondered what Arxu had revealed
to her last night. She didn’t understand magick very well; she only
knew it disrupted the balance of nature and resulted in horrible
consequences. The likelihood that it had been manipulated to create
life where there was none was believable.

“How are you feeling today?” Arxu
looked at her with an emotionless expression, and at once, she
realized how silly her question was. “What did you do when you woke
up?” she asked.

“I gathered my belongings
and—”

“No, I mean

after you died.”
Arxu hefted his staff and adjusted the weight on his back. “What
were you doing before my father found you?” All at once, Nishka’s
questions came rushing forth.

“My father said he found you wandering
on the road. Where were you going? What were you going to do? Have
you been wandering aimlessly ever since your death?” Arxu opened
his mouth to reply but Nishka blurted out one final question. “Why
did you agree to escort me?”

“Your father approached me. I was doing
nothing, I suppose.” He looked around the placid forest as he
mulled her unanswered questions.

“I have been wandering the wilderness
for many days now, meditating and gathering herbs. I don’t have a
home to return to. I am drawn to places of power, which are often
found in forests. I was searching for a strong source of magic when
I encountered your father.”

“Did you find what you were looking
for?” Nishka asked.

“No...”

Nishka scanned the forest and imagined
what a place of power must look like. It would be far removed from
society and the intervention of humans. It would almost certainly
overwhelm even the most stoic bystander.

“Can you show me a place of
power?”

“If I sense one nearby. They are rare.”
Another question occurred to Nishka that almost didn’t make it past
her lips.

“Can you tell me, Arxu, have you always
looked that way?”

“What way?”

“Your skin is so pale and your hair
is...”

“I don’t know. I believe I have always
had pale skin, perhaps since my birth. Unfortunately, my death
robbed me of all memory. My unnatural hair color may be a result of
my vocation as a Nightwalker.”

“It may be?”

“I cannot remember.”

“Have you encountered other
Nightwalkers?”

“No, they are rare. My knowledge
regarding them has faded over time. According to what little I
could learn from my books, each potential Nightwalker undergoes
rituals during their inauguration into the secret sect.” The
mention of a clandestine order hooked Nishka’s
attention.

“Are Nightwalkers
religious?”

“No, but we have a great respect for
the moon and night, including nature and all of its
creations.”

Intrigued by his description, Nishka
asked, “What are these rituals?”

“There is an obscure sanctuary within
the forests of Eyegad where a man or woman performs ancient
rituals; one is to bathe in a nearby pool beneath the moon. There,
he or she meditates in harmony with the natural surroundings. The
leader of the Nightwalkers, who is always female, judges the
initiates as worthy or unworthy of joining their reclusive order.
Most Nightwalkers don’t stray far from the sanctuary. They aren’t
easily understood, and they are often subjected to harsh treatment
by society and its authorities.

“One could argue Nightwalkers are not
treated as humans. Many people are hostile or frightened of men and
women endowed with paranormal abilities. Nightwalkers aren’t easily
distinguished from a normal person in appearance, but it is
possible some are quite open about their vocation. Most
Nightwalkers who endure discrimination are exiles, and one who is
exiled from the order is marked.”

“...How are they marked?”

“To ensure an outcast is never allowed
to return and that society knows what they are, an exile may
receive markings on his body with dyes extracted from wild indigo
herbs. These runes bind to his skin and prevent him from returning
to the sanctuary. Should he try, he will be unable to pass beyond a
certain point in the forest. It would be as though the exile was
trying to walk through an invisible gate. If his offense is
considered too great, his hair may be dyed with indigo.”

Nishka stifled her laughter when she
realized he was not capable of humor. At once, she felt slightly
uncomfortable around Arxu.

“Were you exiled?”

“I cannot remember.”

“I would like to think I’m not
traveling with someone dangerous.”

“By that same logic, I should hesitate
to journey alongside you.” Nishka looked insulted. “You swung an
axe at a man in Sepulzer and maimed him.”

“I did so out of self-defense! Didn’t
you see what he was going to do to me?” They winded further down
the road. “So... you aren’t a danger to me?” Nishka
asked.

“I am sworn to protect you. I am a
danger to anyone who would bring you harm.”

“You have a charming way of saying
you’ll kill for me.”

“I didn’t say that.” Nishka couldn’t
help but laugh at the amusing exchange.

“What can you tell me about
Azia-Nocti?” Arxu asked.

“Azia-Nocti is an oligarchy ruled by
two kings and a council of elders. Oligarch Nizaz and Ichari
oversee the city affairs. They are constantly opposed to each
other. Azia-Nocti is plagued with political rivalry largely because
of their egos. They are preoccupied with gaining influence in the
council. I imagine they bribe the elders for their
allegiance.

“Fortunately, their efforts to
undermine each other haven’t harmed the city...
yet
. Anyway,
Azia-Nocti is often regarded as a city of opportunity. It is very
friendly compared to other city-states, and there is much business
to be explored.”

“Considering our reception in Sepulzer,
to say it is friendly in comparison does not say much at
all.”

“That’s true,” she laughed.

Arxu and Nishka set up camp along the
road as the evening unfurled. They gathered around the small
bonfire Arxu provided. Its flames gently coaxed light across
Nishka’s face from her pink lips to her blue eyes. She looked
somberly at the sky, a vacuum of color with no beginning or ending.
The night stretched on for eternity, and like a jewel in its
depths, the moon hovered high above. A rich halo encircled the
moon, an icy corona that glazed her vision. It entranced Nishka as
she quietly nodded off.

She predicted the Nightwalker would
spirit away in a few hours. Arxu set down his staff by the fire,
also lost in thought. He had no intention of leaving her alone
after the incident with the bandits.

He could only think about the task
appointed to him by Nishka’s father. Arxu would escort her to the
remaining city-states and part ways with her. He would likely never
see Nishka again.

They had spent the afternoon discussing
the city-states they would soon encounter. Nishka described her
childhood in the village of Riverwell. She shared her happy
memories with Arxu, painfully aware that he could not appreciate
them. Despite the emotional barriers, she enjoyed recalling her
childhood experiences. How strange it seemed that she confessed her
dreams and hopes to a man she barely knew. Perhaps she confided in
Arxu because he would never judge her.

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