Chapter 14:Canaan's Theft
We had left Balian’s Tower by the early afternoon on the following day. Hu Li had completed his studies sufficiently to reach, as he put it, the Second Valence. Gabriel had found a soft patch of grass some paces away from the shadow of the Tower and had slept there. He was in understandably poor spirits when we rendezvoused with him. Lilian’s quiet resolve had returned. Her eyes were lit with emboldened determination to track down our enemies and rescue young Tanner and spare another innocent from suffering under the Cultists’ profanity.
Despite the nightmare that had disrupted my slumber, what sleep I managed to attain proved fruitful. I was awoken by Orolde, Balian’s weary faced Gnomish caretaker. He informed me that the Master wished to see me. I quickly washed myself at my chamber’s basin. A remarkable bit of engineering, indoor plumbing all the way up in the tower with little knobs with which to start and stop the water flow. I’m sure it was horribly expensive. But then, Balian is an Arch Mage after all. Perhaps it was magic.
The water was so cold it nearly burned and any lingering fatigue that clung to me was dashed away after the first splash against my face. I dressed in my traveling clothes and followed Orolde down the stairs to the main foyer and through the opened doorway to my left that led into the Dining Hall. Orolde led me to a corner on the far side of the massive chamber. He dully lifted a panel on the wall that revealed a latch. He pulled the latch to him and something heavy dropped in the wall and a narrow opening swung open to his right.
“This way.” He said, never turning around to see if I was still there. He held out a fleshy, fat finger toward the opening and I obediently went through.
It was a kitchen. A host of iron pots hung over brick ovens and metal basins filled with murky, plate and utensil infested water.
Orolde slumped over to the sink, took an already soaked oversized sponge from a hook and began the unpleasant task of washing the master’s dishes.
“I thought you told me Balian wished to see me.” I said after watching the little man plodding away at his chore for several minutes.
“The Master is on his way. Just wait.” It was the last thing I heard from the Gnome for the remainder of the day.
I stood by one of the brick ovens and forced myself to relax. This was an opportunity to practice patience and humility. The Master shall appear whenever and wherever he wishes. My thoughts drifted to Hu Li. Such an irascible, petulant, inpatient sot he was. Such arrogance. Such hubris. It was a wonder to me that Balian put up with him for so long. I supposed Hu Li’s talent with arcanism superseded his irritating personality shortfalls. “Potential for exaltedness resides in all things.” Canaan teaches us. “He who is swift to judge brings perdition to no other soul but his own.”
Mine was not the place to condemn. Canaan had brought me here to learn. Hu Li had chosen his path. I could do nothing more than choose mine, and leave others to their own.
A scratch broke me from my waking dream. Balian towered over me. One of his boney fingers, tipped with a sharply frayed nail, pushed into my shoulder.
“Wake up, Apprentice!” He commanded. “Your training begins!”
I stood immediately at attention and opened my mouth to utter an apology, but he did not give me the opportunity.
“I abhor laziness.” He snapped. “Above all else.”
Orolde had left. The dishes where completed. How long had I stood there, daydreaming like a common sloth?
Balian held up a small brush. Its handle was no wider than the blade of a stiletto, and only a half dozen hairs drooped at the tip. An empty bucket was at Balian’s feet.
“This is your first lesson.” He said. “Fill this bucket full of clean water and lye and wash the whole of my kitchen floor with this brush.” He thrust the brush into one of my hands.
“I shall return in an hour to see how you are doing.”
He left.
I started looking for a source of water and found a short downward staircase that twisted toward a narrow door. Upon opening it I discovered a pump. An opened burlap bag of lye squatted near it. Minutes later it was filled and sufficiently sudsy.
I returned to the kitchen and began my task. I got down on my hands and knees, dragged the filled bucket close to me and dipped the brush in the water. I focused in the first corner and scrubbed. I did not stop until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Helena’s soft, seductive face grinning down at me. She held a plate of breads and fruit in her other hand.
I looked down at my own hands. They were as shriveled and white as a discarded cicada skin. I had managed to clean the majority of the floor, having only one small corner of it remaining. The kitchen was awash with the stinging fragrance of lye.
“You’re doing very well, Evora.” Helena cooed. “Balian is most impressed.”
I looked around, hoping to see him, but he was nowhere in sight. Helena sensed my preoccupation and held out the plate of food in front of me.
“This is from him. You have been at this task for nearly three hours. When Balian came to check in on you, he told me you were so enrapt in your task, you paid his presence no notice. That shows focus. He likes focus.” She smiled encouragingly.
My head was blurred by the fumes. She was claiming I had focus, but in that moment, I only felt drunk.
“You should eat.” She said, taking up a slice of bread and shoving it in my mouth. I bit down. It was sweet and soft as a lamb’s wool. I had never tasted better.
I was soon on my feet, relishing the plate of succulent food. Helena explained that I had not heard the breakfast gong. When Orolde came to investigate, he saw me still engulfed in my work that he hadn’t the heart to interrupt me.
“I, on the other hand,” Helena told me, “thought it was bordering on the cruel.”
After my plate was cleared, Helena took it from me, placed it in the sink and left me. I returned to my work. The moment I had brushed the last square of floor, I heard footsteps behind me. I stood to find both Helena and Balian standing at the middle of the kitchen. Helena was smiling. Balian was giving the floor a slow once over. After a short silence he exhaled heavily and nodded.
“Looks good.” He finally said. “You must be off. Your friends are waiting for you and it is time to put this sacrifice business to an end. When you return, your studies will continue.”
He spun around and glided out. Helena remained. She tossed me a towel and I dried my hands on it.
“You are very kind, Lady Helena.” I told her.
“Not at all.” She scoffed. “And I am no lady.”
I finished drying my hands and placed the towel on a hook.
“What do you know of the Urgic Mystics?” I asked her.
“Very little.” She admitted with a sly smile. “That’s Balian’s territory. Not mine.”
“But you cavort with devils.” I said. “And in so doing blend the divine with the arcane, do you not?”
“I suppose.” She said noncommittally. “I suppose one could see it that way.”
“How do you see it?” I asked her. She smiled and grew strangely quiet.
“You’re well versed in Canaan’s Scriptures, are you not?” She asked me.
“Of course.” I answered.
“How did Canaan create the world?”
“By His will. By His love.” I said.
“Spoken like a true servant.” She said, her voice a tinge rougher. “What if I were to tell you that the world was not created through love, but through theft?”
The word “blasphemy” flashed in my mind with a force and brightness of a thousands suns at their zenith. Had I been an Inquisitor or a Justicar, I would have had no choice by to imprison the witch for her heresy. But I had left such reflexive, reactionary judgments behind when the Curia forced me into exile. Though bile inched its way up my throat at her utterance, I remained silent and allowed her to continue with her story.
“Before Turgos, before Canaan, there was Law and Chaos. They were not like gods, they were something else entirely, something truly eternal. While no one is certain where Canaan came from, what they are certain of is what He did. He wished to create a world, so he went to Chaos, the power of creation, who dwelled in the eternal darkness of the Abyss, and, it is said, asked for the power’s aid in the creation of a world. When Chaos refused Canaan’s request, He simply took a pocket of The Abyss and used it to create Turgos.
By the time Chaos became aware of this theft, The Adversary had begun his rebellion in Heaven. The rebels were expelled from Heaven. And Canaan stole some more of The Abyss to create Hell at the bottom of which laid the Lake of Fire. It was there Canaan cast The Adversary and his rebellious host. Canaan’s justice twisted their beautiful bodies into hideous forms, their melodic voices into cries of fury and hatred. The light became dark and the sublime, wicked. The fallen angels became devils.
Chaos was enraged by this twice-theft; it took form and called its form Demogorgon, the progenitor of all demons. Demogorgon created a host of demons to make war on the upstart, Canaan.
It was at that time that The Adversary escaped through the gates of Hell and implored Demogorgon to show it the location of Turgos. The Adversary whispered to Demogorgon its plan to taint Canaan’s creation on Turgos and cause it to turn against Canaan. The Adversary was skeptical of such an intricately indirect attack on The Great Thief, but allowed The Adversary one chance to make his plan work. The Adversary failed.
And being the most impatient and furious of its kind, Demogorgon lashed out at The Adversary for this failure. But The Adversary was no stranger to betrayal. He was ready for Demogorgon’s attack. And wary of fighting that great being on its own turf, The Adversary immediately fled back to Hell.
A great war ensued between Hell and The Abyss. This great Bloodwar continues to this day. But neither power forgot Canaan and their hatred for Him. In fact, while The Adversary may have been unsuccessful in tainting Canaan’s creation, he was successful in bridging the divide between Hell and Turgos in such a way that Hell could access Turgos without going through The Abyss. Fearing the eventual betrayal by Demogorgon that it knew would come, this portal, this Jacob’s Ladder, would serve the forces of Hell to further their efforts to corrupt the humans and others of Turgos. But it had another purpose as well. For The Adversary did not stop building the ladder at Turgos. No, he continued building to Heaven.
Millennia later, The Adversary used Jacob’s Ladder to invade Heaven. But Canaan was ready. Canaan’s heavenly hosts, immortal and dazzling arcons, angels and devas, met the hordes of fiends and eventually triumphed over the fallen rebel army. The surviving devils retreated to Hell and Canaan smashed Jacob’s Ladder between Heaven and Turgos and posted the Angel Dariel at what had been the top of Jacob’s Ladder to watch for eternity should The Adversary try that trick again.
But the portion of Jacob’s Ladder between Hell and Turgos remained intact. It continues to exist to this day, a place of great evil, a hellmouth. It resides under a place at the center of The Wildlands, called Rappan’Athuk.
Over the centuries, devils came and went freely from Rappan’Athuk into Turgos, their efforts to taint mortals becoming ever more successful. Some of the more powerful of their kind became worshipped as gods.
Eventually, Demogorgon learned of Jacob’s Ladder, and it launched its own plan to wrest it from Hell. Demogorgon sent the first and most powerful of demons—formed from its own flesh—to Turgos to guard Jacob’s Ladder and assure that no devils came and went from that place, effectively choking off fiendish ingress and egress in Turgos. That demon is like no other of its kind. It is nearly as old as Demogorgon and contains the spark of eternity that is Chaos, as this demon was formed from Chaos made form. This Cthonic being is known as Orcus, and its might is terrible, indeed.
As time passed, the devils trapped on Turgos battled Orcus to no avail. They either failed or became diminished enough that Canaan was able to imprison the survivors in a deep slumber from which they would never awake. They became known as the Sleeping Gods of Shuuth, as they are in that land, still worshipped. And so, due to Demogorgon’s intervention, using the Cthonic being Orcus, only the most powerful of devils may translate to Turgos on their own, but even then it is only at great personal cost that they may do so. Others must be called or summoned or otherwise bound by willing mortals who take great personal risk at doing so.
Sages theorize that Orcus cannot leave Rappan’Athuk without leaving Jacob’s Ladder unguarded. And it is for this reason alone that he has not made war on Turgos. Others theorize that Orcus is in league with the forces of Hell and that The Abyss and Hell are working together to corrupt humanity. And yet others claim that Hell plots to topple Orcus’s reign over Rappan’Athuk to be allowed unfettered access to Turgos. Above all, however, one thing is certain; that is, with so much attention focused on this tiny world, something is going to give…eventually.”
*****
I told no one else of Helena’s story. It was so unbelievable, so utterly preposterous. There was nothing before Canaan. He created the world. He created mankind in His own image. Nothing existed before Him. These were lies. They had to be.
Yet, even then I recall back now as I write this, Helena's story evoked a visceral reaction in me. I remember perspiring at the memory.
Afterward, while I was cleaning up in an adjacent antechamber to one of Balian's vast libraries, I overheard Balian instructing Hu Li. Curiosity got the better of me and I silently padded around the corner to get a peek.
I saw Balian holding open an ornately carved ebony wooden box.
"This is a powerful weapon of magic that should not be used lightly." I could hear Balian instructing Hu Li in his characteristically shrill voice. "Your foes, if encountered together, will be too much for you and your firends." He continued.
Hu Li's lip curled in derision. "Oh master, please! We slew them like lambs to the slaughter. My powers are more than a match for those fools."
Balian straightened and inhaled as if to blast Hu Li with a series of scathing insults. But instead, his voice became deeper and stern. The wild look was gone from his face, replaced by a stoic mein. In a measured and grave tone, Balian spoke to his apprentice. "These foes are beyond you Apprentice. Do not let Hubris be the source of your destruction. You face a fanatic Priest of Orcus and a powerful knight, one known as a Black Guard in service to that fell being, and not least of all, you face an Aquan Sorceress of some skill. Together, they will destroy you."
Hu Li's jaw dropped.
So did mine.
I never heard Balian speak so lucidly and what he had to say was bone chilling. We were in way over our heads.
The wild look and shrill voice returned, "neutralize the Black Guard while you and your friends deal with the Priest and Sorceress. But do it at the beginning of the battle, before your friends are anywhere near them. If you meet these three together in a room it will already be too late."
"Yes, yes, master. I will do as you say." Hu Li rolled his eyes and casually reached for the box.
"This is VERY important! Do not PATRONIZE me!" Balian was frothing at the mouth as he screamed and backhanded Hu Li across the face.
"Yes Master! You are right Master! I am foolish Master! I deserve to be disciplined Master!" Hu Li sycophantically yelped as he cowered, covering his face.
Balian sighed. "I don't know why I put up with you. You are an arrogant fool!"
Balian closed the box with a snap and held it out to Hu Li. "Here. Take it. Do not disappoint me, Apprentice. Do not disappoint Turgos." At that, Balian turned to leave.
I ducked back around the corner and pretended not to have heard the exchange. Balian glowered as he passed by, seeming to not have noticed me. I sighed in relief.
******
We rode back to Goldfire Glen in silence. Gabriel and Hu Li’s debates had mercifully ended. Hu Li had acquired a pet that clung to his shoulder. A small, yellow ferret he named “Greater Daemon.”
“It is a gift from my Master.” he told us. “Greater Daemon shall serve as my familiar, yes…”
Before the sun had completely set, we had rode into the village streets and come to the door of the Feisty Fox, where we had planned on collecting Aesendal. We dismounted our horses and strode up to the door of the tavern.
It was locked.
When we knocked there was no answer.
“Did you hear that?” Asked Gabriel. None of us had heard anything untoward. “Inside. It’s Aesendal. Stand back.”
We obeyed. Gabriel stepped up to the door, took in a long, deep breath and brought two fists up over his head. With a shout, he pounded his fists downward onto the door’s bolted latch.
With a great crack the latch split in twain and fell to the landing. The door swung open.
We ran in to find the Shuuthian shopkeeper bound to a chair in the center of the tavern. Aesendal was standing over him, a hand raised as if to strike.
The sorcerer’s gloves had been removed, exposing his hands. We all halted at the sight. Aesendal’s hands had mutated. They are covered with brass scales to the wrist and each finger bore sharp talons the length of a robin’s wing feather. His reptilian eyes were ablaze with fury.
The Shuuthian saw us and cried out.
“Please!” He said. “This man is mad! He is accusing me of the most horrible things! He is going to torture me! Please stop him! I am innocent! I am innocent!”
Aesendal retracted his claws, but struck the man across his cheek with the back of his scaled hand. The shopkeeper’s head snapped to his side and he fell unconscious.
Gabriel and Lilian rushed up to the enraged sorcerer.
“His was the only structure in all of Goldfire Glen found untouched!” Aesendal was shouting. “He knew! He knew what was coming! He’s in league with them! I know it!”
I quickly checked on the shopkeeper and found, though bruised by the strike, he was otherwise unharmed.
“He is evil!” Aesendal continued in a mad rage. “You said so yourself, Lilian! He needs to be punished!”
“And he will be.” Lilian answered softly. “He needs to be turned over to the Baron for questioning.”
“No!” Spurted Hu Li, who now stood by Aesendal. “He needs to be dragged into the square and skinned alive. Then the shavings from his flesh should be boiled in his own blood and fed to the children who were left starving and parentless by this attack.”\
The outburst left the rest of us stunned into silence. I admit, though I appreciated his sentiment and desire for justice, the vision he inspired was no better than the depravity the Cultists had left behind.
“There has been enough blood.” I finally said.
“What do you know, priest?” Hu Li slithered. “This is not even your home. You’re an outcast. A transient. A pariah…”
“Enough!” Lilian commanded. “We will turn this man over the proper authorities and that is final! We do not torture people here. That is not our way!”
No one argued. Gabriel nudged Aesendal over to the bar and poured him a pint of beer. The sorcerer chugged the draught down and proceeded to cover his scaled hands with his gloves. Curiosity got the better of me and I moved closer to hear their conversation.
“What is happening to you?” Gabriel asked Aesendal.
“Our home has been ransacked. Friends murdered…”
“No, I mean with your hands. Your eyes. You’re changing.” Gabriel persisted. “What manner of creature are you, Aesendal?”
“I am human. Just like any other.” His answer was short and terse. He moved from the bar up over to the Shuuthian.
“Get this scum out of here.” He said.
A message was sent to the village guard and within an hour Captain Tiberon arrived at the Feisty Fox with a small contingent of soldiers and arrested the shopkeeper, who had since regained consciousness and went with the soldiers without a struggle.
Gabriel apologized to Aesendal for breaking his lock. He told him we all thought he was in danger. Aesendal ignored the apology and quickly constructed a crude beam from a slab of wood and, with Gabriel’s help, nailed the plank over the door of his tavern.
The inn secured, we mounted our horses and rode into the forest outside the village, making our way to secluded abode of Talon’s master, where both the stoic monk and the afflicted druid, Shale, awaited our return.
When we arrived, we were greeted at the door by a most welcomed sight. Shale was up and about and smiling healthfully.
“Those mushrooms worked.” He said. “Talon’s master concocted a deeply tinctured paste from the gills of the fungus and fed it to me. Within hours the toxin had left me.”
“Where is Talon?” Lilian asked.
“Out gathering wood with his master. Please, come in and sit down.”
Shale had brewed some sweet, tan tea and poured each of us a small cup’s worth.
Talon and his Master soon returned. Over more tea and some stale, but flavorful biscuits, Lilian and Gabriel led the discussion filling in the others as to what had transpired at Balian’s Tower.
“You must make haste and rescue Tanner.” Talon’s master told us. “I may not subscribe to the dogma of Canaanism, but innocence is innocence, and has great power to those who wish to distort and abuse it, be they Green, Arcane, Infernal or otherwise. Whatever the Cultists are planning to do to that boy, it must not come to pass.”
Shale and Talon gathered their supplies and mounted their own horses. The sun had long since set by the time we were on our way. As we passed the outskirts of Goldfire Glen, we spotted two horsemen galloping urgently toward us. Lilian drew her sword and I grabbed hold of my mace as the other riders narrowed the gap between us. Shale had his hand on the pommel of his scimitar and both Gabriel and Talon had stiffened, ready to strike.
Hu Li and Aesendal could both be heard quietly chanting.
As the two riders closed in, the small amount of moonlight that illuminated them revealed their coat of arms to be those of Goldfire Glen and the Baron. Lilian sheathed her sword and held up a hand in greeting.
“Lady Lilian!” One of them called. “Is the priest amongst you named Evora Faro?”
All eyes turned to me.
“Yes.” She answered for me.
“I am Evoro Faro.” I said, inching my horse closer to the Baron’s men.
“The prisoner, the Shuuthian shopkeeper, he demands to see a Canaanite Priest. He refuses to speak of his crimes to any other until he has had an audience a Priest. You are the only Priest in Goldfire Glen qualified to take confession. We are glad you haven’t left yet.”
“More delays and trickery.” Aesendal hissed. “Ignore him. We cannot be delayed a moment longer!”
“No.” Lilian responded quietly. She locked eyes with one of the town guards. “Lead the way. We will meet with him. If his testimony, be it a confession or not, provides any insight into the plans of our adversaries, then I wish to know of it.”
“This is a mistake.” Said Gabriel, but he was ignored as we galloped behind the two guards.
In the flickering shadows of torchlight, we were all led down to the cell where the shopkeeper was being held. It was agreed, after much debate, that all of us were to attend this meeting, despite the prisoner’s demands.
He was sitting quietly in the center of his cell, his eyes closed, his breathing relaxed and almost content.
When he opened his eyes and beheld us all standing just beyond the bars of his cell, he sneered.
“I will speak only to the Priest.” He said.
“You will speak to all of us.” Lilian answered firmly. “We understand you wish to confess your sins. A priest is here to listen to your declaration of guilt.”
“Confession?” Said the Shuuthian, twisting his mouth into a wide grin. “Of my sins? Of MY sins?” His voice took on a commanding but feminine voice.
He suddenly stood, his eyes black as pitch. His clothes were ripped from him by some invisible force as he shed his polymorphed form, revealing a supple, milky white feminine body, fully exposed and free of any shame. Black bat wings spread out from behind the back of the creature. Long, silky hair, the color of the night sky, draped over a transmogrified face. Two tiny horns protruded from the fiend’s head. A forked tail slapped the ground behind it, sending up a cloud of dirt and dust.
Ruby lips smiled showing gleaming, white fanged teeth.
“I HAVE SINNED AGAINST CANAAN HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF TIMES. HIS LAWS MEAN NOTHING TO ME. CANAAN IS NO MORE THAN A COMMON THIEF. WHAT RIGHT DOES HE HAVE TO JUDGE ME? IT IS CANAAN WHO MUST ATONE FOR HIS SINS! THE TIME IS NIGH FOR THE TRUE GODS OF OLD TO TAKE BACK WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM THEM! CHAOS WILL REIGN ON TURGOS AND CANAAN’S FAVORED CREATION WILL BE SNUFFED OUT OF EXISTENCE, LIKE THE BOY’S SOUL! AND SO IT WAS AND SO IT SHALL BE! THAT WHICH WAS OURS WE SHALL ONCE AGAIN CLAIM! CANAAN’S THEFT SHALL BE AVENGED! YOU ARE ALREADY TOO LATE!”
She cackled cruelly as she faded from sight.
Lilian focused on the spot where the demon once stood.
“She is gone.” Lilian said.
“I should have killed that thing when I had the chance!” Aesendal spat.
“You never had that chance.” I told him. “That thing is a succubus, a very powerful fiend of the Abyss. We are no match for it. It is merely toying with us.”
I turned to Lilian.
“I fear your brother and Aesendal were right. This was nothing more than a ploy to delay us.”
Lilian nodded.
“Then we shall delay no longer. Shale…” she said turning to the druid. “I beg of you, lead us through the Wildlands. Tanner waits to be rescued. We will not be so easily distracted again.”
Replaying the succubus’s words in my mind and remembering Helena’s tale, I shuddered. Doubt had taken seed. I feared what it might become.
We had left Balian’s Tower by the early afternoon on the following day. Hu Li had completed his studies sufficiently to reach, as he put it, the Second Valence. Gabriel had found a soft patch of grass some paces away from the shadow of the Tower and had slept there. He was in understandably poor spirits when we rendezvoused with him. Lilian’s quiet resolve had returned. Her eyes were lit with emboldened determination to track down our enemies and rescue young Tanner and spare another innocent from suffering under the Cultists’ profanity.
Despite the nightmare that had disrupted my slumber, what sleep I managed to attain proved fruitful. I was awoken by Orolde, Balian’s weary faced Gnomish caretaker. He informed me that the Master wished to see me. I quickly washed myself at my chamber’s basin. A remarkable bit of engineering, indoor plumbing all the way up in the tower with little knobs with which to start and stop the water flow. I’m sure it was horribly expensive. But then, Balian is an Arch Mage after all. Perhaps it was magic.
The water was so cold it nearly burned and any lingering fatigue that clung to me was dashed away after the first splash against my face. I dressed in my traveling clothes and followed Orolde down the stairs to the main foyer and through the opened doorway to my left that led into the Dining Hall. Orolde led me to a corner on the far side of the massive chamber. He dully lifted a panel on the wall that revealed a latch. He pulled the latch to him and something heavy dropped in the wall and a narrow opening swung open to his right.
“This way.” He said, never turning around to see if I was still there. He held out a fleshy, fat finger toward the opening and I obediently went through.
It was a kitchen. A host of iron pots hung over brick ovens and metal basins filled with murky, plate and utensil infested water.
Orolde slumped over to the sink, took an already soaked oversized sponge from a hook and began the unpleasant task of washing the master’s dishes.
“I thought you told me Balian wished to see me.” I said after watching the little man plodding away at his chore for several minutes.
“The Master is on his way. Just wait.” It was the last thing I heard from the Gnome for the remainder of the day.
I stood by one of the brick ovens and forced myself to relax. This was an opportunity to practice patience and humility. The Master shall appear whenever and wherever he wishes. My thoughts drifted to Hu Li. Such an irascible, petulant, inpatient sot he was. Such arrogance. Such hubris. It was a wonder to me that Balian put up with him for so long. I supposed Hu Li’s talent with arcanism superseded his irritating personality shortfalls. “Potential for exaltedness resides in all things.” Canaan teaches us. “He who is swift to judge brings perdition to no other soul but his own.”
Mine was not the place to condemn. Canaan had brought me here to learn. Hu Li had chosen his path. I could do nothing more than choose mine, and leave others to their own.
A scratch broke me from my waking dream. Balian towered over me. One of his boney fingers, tipped with a sharply frayed nail, pushed into my shoulder.
“Wake up, Apprentice!” He commanded. “Your training begins!”
I stood immediately at attention and opened my mouth to utter an apology, but he did not give me the opportunity.
“I abhor laziness.” He snapped. “Above all else.”
Orolde had left. The dishes where completed. How long had I stood there, daydreaming like a common sloth?
Balian held up a small brush. Its handle was no wider than the blade of a stiletto, and only a half dozen hairs drooped at the tip. An empty bucket was at Balian’s feet.
“This is your first lesson.” He said. “Fill this bucket full of clean water and lye and wash the whole of my kitchen floor with this brush.” He thrust the brush into one of my hands.
“I shall return in an hour to see how you are doing.”
He left.
I started looking for a source of water and found a short downward staircase that twisted toward a narrow door. Upon opening it I discovered a pump. An opened burlap bag of lye squatted near it. Minutes later it was filled and sufficiently sudsy.
I returned to the kitchen and began my task. I got down on my hands and knees, dragged the filled bucket close to me and dipped the brush in the water. I focused in the first corner and scrubbed. I did not stop until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Helena’s soft, seductive face grinning down at me. She held a plate of breads and fruit in her other hand.
I looked down at my own hands. They were as shriveled and white as a discarded cicada skin. I had managed to clean the majority of the floor, having only one small corner of it remaining. The kitchen was awash with the stinging fragrance of lye.
“You’re doing very well, Evora.” Helena cooed. “Balian is most impressed.”
I looked around, hoping to see him, but he was nowhere in sight. Helena sensed my preoccupation and held out the plate of food in front of me.
“This is from him. You have been at this task for nearly three hours. When Balian came to check in on you, he told me you were so enrapt in your task, you paid his presence no notice. That shows focus. He likes focus.” She smiled encouragingly.
My head was blurred by the fumes. She was claiming I had focus, but in that moment, I only felt drunk.
“You should eat.” She said, taking up a slice of bread and shoving it in my mouth. I bit down. It was sweet and soft as a lamb’s wool. I had never tasted better.
I was soon on my feet, relishing the plate of succulent food. Helena explained that I had not heard the breakfast gong. When Orolde came to investigate, he saw me still engulfed in my work that he hadn’t the heart to interrupt me.
“I, on the other hand,” Helena told me, “thought it was bordering on the cruel.”
After my plate was cleared, Helena took it from me, placed it in the sink and left me. I returned to my work. The moment I had brushed the last square of floor, I heard footsteps behind me. I stood to find both Helena and Balian standing at the middle of the kitchen. Helena was smiling. Balian was giving the floor a slow once over. After a short silence he exhaled heavily and nodded.
“Looks good.” He finally said. “You must be off. Your friends are waiting for you and it is time to put this sacrifice business to an end. When you return, your studies will continue.”
He spun around and glided out. Helena remained. She tossed me a towel and I dried my hands on it.
“You are very kind, Lady Helena.” I told her.
“Not at all.” She scoffed. “And I am no lady.”
I finished drying my hands and placed the towel on a hook.
“What do you know of the Urgic Mystics?” I asked her.
“Very little.” She admitted with a sly smile. “That’s Balian’s territory. Not mine.”
“But you cavort with devils.” I said. “And in so doing blend the divine with the arcane, do you not?”
“I suppose.” She said noncommittally. “I suppose one could see it that way.”
“How do you see it?” I asked her. She smiled and grew strangely quiet.
“You’re well versed in Canaan’s Scriptures, are you not?” She asked me.
“Of course.” I answered.
“How did Canaan create the world?”
“By His will. By His love.” I said.
“Spoken like a true servant.” She said, her voice a tinge rougher. “What if I were to tell you that the world was not created through love, but through theft?”
The word “blasphemy” flashed in my mind with a force and brightness of a thousands suns at their zenith. Had I been an Inquisitor or a Justicar, I would have had no choice by to imprison the witch for her heresy. But I had left such reflexive, reactionary judgments behind when the Curia forced me into exile. Though bile inched its way up my throat at her utterance, I remained silent and allowed her to continue with her story.
“Before Turgos, before Canaan, there was Law and Chaos. They were not like gods, they were something else entirely, something truly eternal. While no one is certain where Canaan came from, what they are certain of is what He did. He wished to create a world, so he went to Chaos, the power of creation, who dwelled in the eternal darkness of the Abyss, and, it is said, asked for the power’s aid in the creation of a world. When Chaos refused Canaan’s request, He simply took a pocket of The Abyss and used it to create Turgos.
By the time Chaos became aware of this theft, The Adversary had begun his rebellion in Heaven. The rebels were expelled from Heaven. And Canaan stole some more of The Abyss to create Hell at the bottom of which laid the Lake of Fire. It was there Canaan cast The Adversary and his rebellious host. Canaan’s justice twisted their beautiful bodies into hideous forms, their melodic voices into cries of fury and hatred. The light became dark and the sublime, wicked. The fallen angels became devils.
Chaos was enraged by this twice-theft; it took form and called its form Demogorgon, the progenitor of all demons. Demogorgon created a host of demons to make war on the upstart, Canaan.
It was at that time that The Adversary escaped through the gates of Hell and implored Demogorgon to show it the location of Turgos. The Adversary whispered to Demogorgon its plan to taint Canaan’s creation on Turgos and cause it to turn against Canaan. The Adversary was skeptical of such an intricately indirect attack on The Great Thief, but allowed The Adversary one chance to make his plan work. The Adversary failed.
And being the most impatient and furious of its kind, Demogorgon lashed out at The Adversary for this failure. But The Adversary was no stranger to betrayal. He was ready for Demogorgon’s attack. And wary of fighting that great being on its own turf, The Adversary immediately fled back to Hell.
A great war ensued between Hell and The Abyss. This great Bloodwar continues to this day. But neither power forgot Canaan and their hatred for Him. In fact, while The Adversary may have been unsuccessful in tainting Canaan’s creation, he was successful in bridging the divide between Hell and Turgos in such a way that Hell could access Turgos without going through The Abyss. Fearing the eventual betrayal by Demogorgon that it knew would come, this portal, this Jacob’s Ladder, would serve the forces of Hell to further their efforts to corrupt the humans and others of Turgos. But it had another purpose as well. For The Adversary did not stop building the ladder at Turgos. No, he continued building to Heaven.
Millennia later, The Adversary used Jacob’s Ladder to invade Heaven. But Canaan was ready. Canaan’s heavenly hosts, immortal and dazzling arcons, angels and devas, met the hordes of fiends and eventually triumphed over the fallen rebel army. The surviving devils retreated to Hell and Canaan smashed Jacob’s Ladder between Heaven and Turgos and posted the Angel Dariel at what had been the top of Jacob’s Ladder to watch for eternity should The Adversary try that trick again.
But the portion of Jacob’s Ladder between Hell and Turgos remained intact. It continues to exist to this day, a place of great evil, a hellmouth. It resides under a place at the center of The Wildlands, called Rappan’Athuk.
Over the centuries, devils came and went freely from Rappan’Athuk into Turgos, their efforts to taint mortals becoming ever more successful. Some of the more powerful of their kind became worshipped as gods.
Eventually, Demogorgon learned of Jacob’s Ladder, and it launched its own plan to wrest it from Hell. Demogorgon sent the first and most powerful of demons—formed from its own flesh—to Turgos to guard Jacob’s Ladder and assure that no devils came and went from that place, effectively choking off fiendish ingress and egress in Turgos. That demon is like no other of its kind. It is nearly as old as Demogorgon and contains the spark of eternity that is Chaos, as this demon was formed from Chaos made form. This Cthonic being is known as Orcus, and its might is terrible, indeed.
As time passed, the devils trapped on Turgos battled Orcus to no avail. They either failed or became diminished enough that Canaan was able to imprison the survivors in a deep slumber from which they would never awake. They became known as the Sleeping Gods of Shuuth, as they are in that land, still worshipped. And so, due to Demogorgon’s intervention, using the Cthonic being Orcus, only the most powerful of devils may translate to Turgos on their own, but even then it is only at great personal cost that they may do so. Others must be called or summoned or otherwise bound by willing mortals who take great personal risk at doing so.
Sages theorize that Orcus cannot leave Rappan’Athuk without leaving Jacob’s Ladder unguarded. And it is for this reason alone that he has not made war on Turgos. Others theorize that Orcus is in league with the forces of Hell and that The Abyss and Hell are working together to corrupt humanity. And yet others claim that Hell plots to topple Orcus’s reign over Rappan’Athuk to be allowed unfettered access to Turgos. Above all, however, one thing is certain; that is, with so much attention focused on this tiny world, something is going to give…eventually.”
*****
I told no one else of Helena’s story. It was so unbelievable, so utterly preposterous. There was nothing before Canaan. He created the world. He created mankind in His own image. Nothing existed before Him. These were lies. They had to be.
Yet, even then I recall back now as I write this, Helena's story evoked a visceral reaction in me. I remember perspiring at the memory.
Afterward, while I was cleaning up in an adjacent antechamber to one of Balian's vast libraries, I overheard Balian instructing Hu Li. Curiosity got the better of me and I silently padded around the corner to get a peek.
I saw Balian holding open an ornately carved ebony wooden box.
"This is a powerful weapon of magic that should not be used lightly." I could hear Balian instructing Hu Li in his characteristically shrill voice. "Your foes, if encountered together, will be too much for you and your firends." He continued.
Hu Li's lip curled in derision. "Oh master, please! We slew them like lambs to the slaughter. My powers are more than a match for those fools."
Balian straightened and inhaled as if to blast Hu Li with a series of scathing insults. But instead, his voice became deeper and stern. The wild look was gone from his face, replaced by a stoic mein. In a measured and grave tone, Balian spoke to his apprentice. "These foes are beyond you Apprentice. Do not let Hubris be the source of your destruction. You face a fanatic Priest of Orcus and a powerful knight, one known as a Black Guard in service to that fell being, and not least of all, you face an Aquan Sorceress of some skill. Together, they will destroy you."
Hu Li's jaw dropped.
So did mine.
I never heard Balian speak so lucidly and what he had to say was bone chilling. We were in way over our heads.
The wild look and shrill voice returned, "neutralize the Black Guard while you and your friends deal with the Priest and Sorceress. But do it at the beginning of the battle, before your friends are anywhere near them. If you meet these three together in a room it will already be too late."
"Yes, yes, master. I will do as you say." Hu Li rolled his eyes and casually reached for the box.
"This is VERY important! Do not PATRONIZE me!" Balian was frothing at the mouth as he screamed and backhanded Hu Li across the face.
"Yes Master! You are right Master! I am foolish Master! I deserve to be disciplined Master!" Hu Li sycophantically yelped as he cowered, covering his face.
Balian sighed. "I don't know why I put up with you. You are an arrogant fool!"
Balian closed the box with a snap and held it out to Hu Li. "Here. Take it. Do not disappoint me, Apprentice. Do not disappoint Turgos." At that, Balian turned to leave.
I ducked back around the corner and pretended not to have heard the exchange. Balian glowered as he passed by, seeming to not have noticed me. I sighed in relief.
******
We rode back to Goldfire Glen in silence. Gabriel and Hu Li’s debates had mercifully ended. Hu Li had acquired a pet that clung to his shoulder. A small, yellow ferret he named “Greater Daemon.”
“It is a gift from my Master.” he told us. “Greater Daemon shall serve as my familiar, yes…”
Before the sun had completely set, we had rode into the village streets and come to the door of the Feisty Fox, where we had planned on collecting Aesendal. We dismounted our horses and strode up to the door of the tavern.
It was locked.
When we knocked there was no answer.
“Did you hear that?” Asked Gabriel. None of us had heard anything untoward. “Inside. It’s Aesendal. Stand back.”
We obeyed. Gabriel stepped up to the door, took in a long, deep breath and brought two fists up over his head. With a shout, he pounded his fists downward onto the door’s bolted latch.
With a great crack the latch split in twain and fell to the landing. The door swung open.
We ran in to find the Shuuthian shopkeeper bound to a chair in the center of the tavern. Aesendal was standing over him, a hand raised as if to strike.
The sorcerer’s gloves had been removed, exposing his hands. We all halted at the sight. Aesendal’s hands had mutated. They are covered with brass scales to the wrist and each finger bore sharp talons the length of a robin’s wing feather. His reptilian eyes were ablaze with fury.
The Shuuthian saw us and cried out.
“Please!” He said. “This man is mad! He is accusing me of the most horrible things! He is going to torture me! Please stop him! I am innocent! I am innocent!”
Aesendal retracted his claws, but struck the man across his cheek with the back of his scaled hand. The shopkeeper’s head snapped to his side and he fell unconscious.
Gabriel and Lilian rushed up to the enraged sorcerer.
“His was the only structure in all of Goldfire Glen found untouched!” Aesendal was shouting. “He knew! He knew what was coming! He’s in league with them! I know it!”
I quickly checked on the shopkeeper and found, though bruised by the strike, he was otherwise unharmed.
“He is evil!” Aesendal continued in a mad rage. “You said so yourself, Lilian! He needs to be punished!”
“And he will be.” Lilian answered softly. “He needs to be turned over to the Baron for questioning.”
“No!” Spurted Hu Li, who now stood by Aesendal. “He needs to be dragged into the square and skinned alive. Then the shavings from his flesh should be boiled in his own blood and fed to the children who were left starving and parentless by this attack.”\
The outburst left the rest of us stunned into silence. I admit, though I appreciated his sentiment and desire for justice, the vision he inspired was no better than the depravity the Cultists had left behind.
“There has been enough blood.” I finally said.
“What do you know, priest?” Hu Li slithered. “This is not even your home. You’re an outcast. A transient. A pariah…”
“Enough!” Lilian commanded. “We will turn this man over the proper authorities and that is final! We do not torture people here. That is not our way!”
No one argued. Gabriel nudged Aesendal over to the bar and poured him a pint of beer. The sorcerer chugged the draught down and proceeded to cover his scaled hands with his gloves. Curiosity got the better of me and I moved closer to hear their conversation.
“What is happening to you?” Gabriel asked Aesendal.
“Our home has been ransacked. Friends murdered…”
“No, I mean with your hands. Your eyes. You’re changing.” Gabriel persisted. “What manner of creature are you, Aesendal?”
“I am human. Just like any other.” His answer was short and terse. He moved from the bar up over to the Shuuthian.
“Get this scum out of here.” He said.
A message was sent to the village guard and within an hour Captain Tiberon arrived at the Feisty Fox with a small contingent of soldiers and arrested the shopkeeper, who had since regained consciousness and went with the soldiers without a struggle.
Gabriel apologized to Aesendal for breaking his lock. He told him we all thought he was in danger. Aesendal ignored the apology and quickly constructed a crude beam from a slab of wood and, with Gabriel’s help, nailed the plank over the door of his tavern.
The inn secured, we mounted our horses and rode into the forest outside the village, making our way to secluded abode of Talon’s master, where both the stoic monk and the afflicted druid, Shale, awaited our return.
When we arrived, we were greeted at the door by a most welcomed sight. Shale was up and about and smiling healthfully.
“Those mushrooms worked.” He said. “Talon’s master concocted a deeply tinctured paste from the gills of the fungus and fed it to me. Within hours the toxin had left me.”
“Where is Talon?” Lilian asked.
“Out gathering wood with his master. Please, come in and sit down.”
Shale had brewed some sweet, tan tea and poured each of us a small cup’s worth.
Talon and his Master soon returned. Over more tea and some stale, but flavorful biscuits, Lilian and Gabriel led the discussion filling in the others as to what had transpired at Balian’s Tower.
“You must make haste and rescue Tanner.” Talon’s master told us. “I may not subscribe to the dogma of Canaanism, but innocence is innocence, and has great power to those who wish to distort and abuse it, be they Green, Arcane, Infernal or otherwise. Whatever the Cultists are planning to do to that boy, it must not come to pass.”
Shale and Talon gathered their supplies and mounted their own horses. The sun had long since set by the time we were on our way. As we passed the outskirts of Goldfire Glen, we spotted two horsemen galloping urgently toward us. Lilian drew her sword and I grabbed hold of my mace as the other riders narrowed the gap between us. Shale had his hand on the pommel of his scimitar and both Gabriel and Talon had stiffened, ready to strike.
Hu Li and Aesendal could both be heard quietly chanting.
As the two riders closed in, the small amount of moonlight that illuminated them revealed their coat of arms to be those of Goldfire Glen and the Baron. Lilian sheathed her sword and held up a hand in greeting.
“Lady Lilian!” One of them called. “Is the priest amongst you named Evora Faro?”
All eyes turned to me.
“Yes.” She answered for me.
“I am Evoro Faro.” I said, inching my horse closer to the Baron’s men.
“The prisoner, the Shuuthian shopkeeper, he demands to see a Canaanite Priest. He refuses to speak of his crimes to any other until he has had an audience a Priest. You are the only Priest in Goldfire Glen qualified to take confession. We are glad you haven’t left yet.”
“More delays and trickery.” Aesendal hissed. “Ignore him. We cannot be delayed a moment longer!”
“No.” Lilian responded quietly. She locked eyes with one of the town guards. “Lead the way. We will meet with him. If his testimony, be it a confession or not, provides any insight into the plans of our adversaries, then I wish to know of it.”
“This is a mistake.” Said Gabriel, but he was ignored as we galloped behind the two guards.
In the flickering shadows of torchlight, we were all led down to the cell where the shopkeeper was being held. It was agreed, after much debate, that all of us were to attend this meeting, despite the prisoner’s demands.
He was sitting quietly in the center of his cell, his eyes closed, his breathing relaxed and almost content.
When he opened his eyes and beheld us all standing just beyond the bars of his cell, he sneered.
“I will speak only to the Priest.” He said.
“You will speak to all of us.” Lilian answered firmly. “We understand you wish to confess your sins. A priest is here to listen to your declaration of guilt.”
“Confession?” Said the Shuuthian, twisting his mouth into a wide grin. “Of my sins? Of MY sins?” His voice took on a commanding but feminine voice.
He suddenly stood, his eyes black as pitch. His clothes were ripped from him by some invisible force as he shed his polymorphed form, revealing a supple, milky white feminine body, fully exposed and free of any shame. Black bat wings spread out from behind the back of the creature. Long, silky hair, the color of the night sky, draped over a transmogrified face. Two tiny horns protruded from the fiend’s head. A forked tail slapped the ground behind it, sending up a cloud of dirt and dust.
Ruby lips smiled showing gleaming, white fanged teeth.
“I HAVE SINNED AGAINST CANAAN HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF TIMES. HIS LAWS MEAN NOTHING TO ME. CANAAN IS NO MORE THAN A COMMON THIEF. WHAT RIGHT DOES HE HAVE TO JUDGE ME? IT IS CANAAN WHO MUST ATONE FOR HIS SINS! THE TIME IS NIGH FOR THE TRUE GODS OF OLD TO TAKE BACK WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM THEM! CHAOS WILL REIGN ON TURGOS AND CANAAN’S FAVORED CREATION WILL BE SNUFFED OUT OF EXISTENCE, LIKE THE BOY’S SOUL! AND SO IT WAS AND SO IT SHALL BE! THAT WHICH WAS OURS WE SHALL ONCE AGAIN CLAIM! CANAAN’S THEFT SHALL BE AVENGED! YOU ARE ALREADY TOO LATE!”
She cackled cruelly as she faded from sight.
Lilian focused on the spot where the demon once stood.
“She is gone.” Lilian said.
“I should have killed that thing when I had the chance!” Aesendal spat.
“You never had that chance.” I told him. “That thing is a succubus, a very powerful fiend of the Abyss. We are no match for it. It is merely toying with us.”
I turned to Lilian.
“I fear your brother and Aesendal were right. This was nothing more than a ploy to delay us.”
Lilian nodded.
“Then we shall delay no longer. Shale…” she said turning to the druid. “I beg of you, lead us through the Wildlands. Tanner waits to be rescued. We will not be so easily distracted again.”
Replaying the succubus’s words in my mind and remembering Helena’s tale, I shuddered. Doubt had taken seed. I feared what it might become.