Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 13

Chapter 13



Rays of red light poured through the ceiling of dead branches high above them. The setting sun offered enough illumination to navigate, but it was fading fast. Abbadin knew that a trek through the darkened wilderness would not be a simple one.

Branches and leaves rustled in the gentle breeze as they walked. It was particularly warmer than the previous day, and he welcomed it. He’d grown quite resentful of the chilling lands of the North, and he puzzled the question of why anyone would live there. It was an unpleasant place to say the least. Its rolling green hills held terrors of their own, as every bit as equal of the twisted nightmares that haunt the dreaming world. It’s wilderness had proven to be its own mix of beauty and danger.

Stealth was never one of his specialties, and he struggled to keep step with Ravenna at his side. Her footsteps were silent and cautious. He was captivated by her persistent stride. His were anything but that. He tried, but he just could not grasp the art. Wilderness was not something of the southern deserts. Sand offered little noise when one stepped upon it. The lands of the North however, were remarkably loud. Grass rustled, leaves crackled, branches snapped, and rocks grinded. It seemed that no matter where he stepped, he made noise. He was thankful that he was not a hunter, for he would have starved long ago.

If there Daemons in the area, he was certain they’d have come upon them. It was reassuring to hear no other sounds within the dark shadows of the woods. However, he couldn’t help but scan the brush below the canopy of trees. Shadows danced in the corners of his eyes and often startled him as they walked. He’d turn to see but nothing was there. There never was anything there. Paranoia. That’s all it was. When one looked for danger, they found it, regardless if it were there or not.

Visions of the beast flowed through his thoughts. It was something that would have drove his darkest nightmares away in fear. He’d never seen anything like it; a man-horse, with no skin. Fangs. Claws. It was a dreadful creature – deadly. He couldn’t imagine what their fate would be if there were not as many of them as there were. It nearly ignored all the arrows they shot at it, and he wondered if it even felt pain. He recalled the man thrown against the tree as if he weighed nothing. The echoes of his bones cracking lingered in the back of his mind. They were now only two strong. What chance would they stand against another one?

The murmuring trickles of the stream grew louder as they walked. Ravenna would often pause and sniff the air or scan the dirt below their feet. He wondered what it was she was doing. The smell of that thing was something he would not soon forget. Surely, if there were another out there in the wilds, he’d know. What could she possibly be smelling, the air? Madness. The air had no smell.

The flowing waters gained pace as it cracked against boulders and dead logs. He assumed that they were nearing the mouth of a river, but he was no woodsmen, or particularly keen with the stuff of nature. His guess was as good as the next man. Still, shadows danced in the corners of his eyes, and each movement of the things not there, sent chills down his spine. Even the Barghests that attacked him the previous night were quite the terror. They were easy enough to kill, but with only two of them, he couldn’t help but think they were at a distinct disadvantage. He wondered if they had found the deceased men of his crew lying helpless upon the cold earth. He’d hoped that they were long dead before having to face such a beast. A death at the jaws of such things, would be terrible. If it were to come to that, he could blame no one other than himself. It was his orders that sent the men to their deaths. What was he thinking when he gave the order to board the ship? Surely they could have outrun it, and returned safely to Lokken with valuable information of the Army he’d seen. That however, did not enter his mind that night. His rage controlled his thoughts and actions. The skies were his, as they always had been. They were no longer. His ship was gone. His crew was gone. He was nothing more than a wayward traveler with not but an old sword and pistol. He was little more than dead.

“If you do not tell me what’s on your mind, I’m going to strangle you.” Ravenna’s soft voice startled him back to his self.

Her eyes stared into him as they walked. Her vision never broke from him and yet, she still stepped silent through the fading twilight.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Tell me what is troubling you.” The tune of her melodic voice reverberated through his bones. It was soft, and gentle. Such a thing was ironic, for he’d seen her abilities, and she was anything but gentle.

“I be thinking of my crew and my ship.” He stumbled over a root that gnarled its way to the stream. “They be dead because of me.”

Ravenna rolled her eyes. “You’re just like my brother. You blame yourself for everything.”

“There be no one else to blame. I be the one that ordered them to their deaths. I be the one that failed as a leader.”

“Perhaps what you did saved people.”

That was a thought. Perhaps she was right. The skies belonged to Lokken, it was their home. Ecclesia had taken much from them, and he defended the one last thing that was truly theirs. Dirigibles were one of their only advantages against the crusade, destroying one of theirs could have very well ensured the safety of other Avians.

He nodded. “You be right.”

She offered him a gentle smile. It was strange seeing her the way she was. He hardly knew her, but from what he’d seen in the short time, she was inward and resolved. He imagined that Ecclesia was responsible for the way she was. He couldn’t imagine the thoughts of seeing his homeland fall to such vile devices. Still, she was quite different this evening. The mud-stained camouflage had been wiped clean from her skin, and the leaves and twigs were removed from her hair. It flowed like golden threads past her shoulders down to the small of her back. He was amazed by what was revealed beneath the thick lair of dirt.

He felt the air warming as they continued. They slowed their pace almost entirely to a stop. She knelt down to the earth and motioned for him to do the same. His eyes scanned the dark expanse of the forest. The light was all but gone, and the shadows grew ever darker. The trickle of the flowing waters echoed off trees and rocks and his eyes darted about at the sounds. Beads of sweat rolled down his brow as he watched her scan the woods in front of her. The heat was not his imagination. She turned her head to the side. What was she listening to?

Ravenna nodded and stood. She offered her hand, and he held it. Her skin was smooth and soft like the feel of velvet. He stood at her side and stared out into the darkness. The forest came alive at night. Creatures rustled in the thickets and crickets chirped their melodies. Wind and water joined into the symphony of the wilderness and it rang in his ears. The quiet of the night often amplified the sounds of the world and it hummed in high pitch as he stood silent.

Ravenna pulled her bow and nocked an arrow as she stepped forward slowly. Her foot touched the ground beneath her and came to rest in silence. He pulled his pistol and cocked the hammer. The clicks of its mechanisms drowned in the music of the earth and a quiet sigh escaped his lips as thankful he’d not alarmed anything.

She crept through the dark, and he followed behind, slightly less quiet. He did his best, but it was pointless to try. He was no good at stealth. She shot him looks as he snapped twigs beneath his feet, but her frustrations receded once he saw the mouth of the sewers in front of him.

Water rushed down the stream that met with the great river before the tunnel. Froth bubbled in the eddy that twisted and turned at the opening of the sewers. A distinct smell emanated from the tunnel, not a filthy smell that he would expect from such a place, but certainly not pleasant. It was familiar to him. It held a metallic aroma in his senses as he drew in the dark, warm air.

She knelt down to inspect the waters, and Abbadin followed, not sure what it was he was supposed to see. The shallow pool streaked with twisting bands of crimson, and he knew what it was he smelled. Blood trickled from the opening of the sewers into the water below. The smell mixed with the dank air of the dark passage and steam spewed out into the night. So hot it was, that sweat poured from his brow.

Abbadin’s hairs stood on end as he stared into the black abyss that led to the bowels of the city. It was hot, but cold shivers ran down the length of his limbs. He now understood why the Tarkans feared this place. He could see nothing down the tunnel, but he felt something. What it was, he did not know. It was as if the very air were forcing him back.

Voices of the dark whispered in his ears. He could not make it out, but they were ever there. Whatever was within the walls of the darkness, was not something he wished to see, but it spoke to him. The voices grew louder as he looked on. They echoed through the tunnel into the dark voids of his mind and ravaged his senses. It was not at all his imagination. Ravenna stared down into the black, equally aware of the whispers. Something, or someone dwelled within.

He felt himself push forward through the intangible force that held him back. His fingertips were numb as he walked, and Ravenna pushed herself alongside him.

“I’m going with you,” she said. Her eyes blinked through the dark. Her face showed no emotion.

Her fearlessness was inspiring. He could only imagine the thoughts that worked in the back of her mind. Abbadin did not like the idea of putting her in danger, but another sword would be most welcome.

“You be helping me enough.”

“I’m going with you whether you like it or not.” Her voice heated his flesh.

“Why?”

She stared into the void. “My husband is somewhere in there.”

It became clear to him. Her fearlessness and zeal was for her husband. It pained him to think of losing a loved one to something like this. He couldn’t imagine what she must feel.

He nodded, and slow as snow falling from the sky, they stepped into the abyss.