Ledged of the God Slayer

The history behind the story:

The Karmatic Law of Gods


The Karmatic Law of Gods

The world relies simply and purely on balance. For every dark there is a light, for every good there is an evil, and for every angel there is an equally powerful demon. When the world was created, humans were created. These creatures believed in superhuman beings that could protect and watch over them.

These people believed so fully in the omnipotent spirits that the peoples’ ideas manifested. Thus Gods were born. The humans, being as foolish as humans are, thought that Gods had created them, when in actuality they had created Gods. These Gods were made pure, but not without mistake as most humans had believed, but the balance was shifted to the right. The world was too good.

To balance out the good, the world created an emotion, arrogance. With arrogance came other negative traits, like anger, sorrow, envy, lust, and greed. Slowly the Gods turned. These turned Gods would combat the virtuous Gods for power, giving the evil Gods the title of God Slayers. But even the righteous Gods spilled blood, they were not without sin.

Then the humans began to discover that the God Slayers would support their wicked lives, so the people paid tribute to the malevolent forces. With human assistance the God Slayers’ power grew, allowing them to manipulate the world’s power into shifting once again.

The world was unable to control this great new power. So it ceased all life, human and God alike. Eventually the world was born anew, returning life to all creatures. But powers cannot simply be destroyed. The world was forced to hide the God’s power inside the human’s bodies. To keep the powers safe the world created a Law of Binding, to keep the God’s and their Slayers from abusing their abilities.

Hidden deep in the human soul is a God’s power; the key to that power is based on the human’s actions. A person whose soul possesses the power of a God can awaken that power based on his actions.

To keep just any human from becoming a God the world added another lock on the law; only a person whose human abilities caused total anguish or total bliss to another human could be reincarnated as a God.

The world was satisfied that these extremes were unachievable to any human. But the world was wrong…






So it begins…

Chapter One- A Shadowed God

Among the emerald blood of the Earth God a shadow stirred. That shadow was a man: not a human man, but a God. The Shadowed God lifted his blade, and struck the final blow, ending the grotesque battle.

He was drenched in the God’s green blood; his clothes, his hair, and especially his sword were stained a dark sheen.

The ground about the Shadow's feet greedily soaked up the Earth God’s blood, hungry for it’s life-giving power. The Shadow moved on as the gory scene behind him dissipated in a matter of seconds. All that was left of the once mighty Earth God was a small maple sapling, marking the land where he had been slain.

The Shadow walked from the area, entirely unfazed by what had just occurred. As he walked he barely flinched, despite the terrible wounds covering his bleeding body. He needed to find water quickly.

He walked toward the forest, following the parts that were thickest. Before long the brush underfoot became soft and damp. The mushy trail led him to a small pond filled with muddy water. It would have to suffice.

He waded in, feeling the sharp pains of the cold water entering his numerous cuts. The water soon turned murky. The pond wasn’t clean enough, and neither was he. He needed to find a stream to wash away the God’s blood as well as his own, before the two mixed and killed him. It had rained a few days before; there had to be a stream nearby.

The Shadow left the filthy pond and trudged back through the forest, heavy from water and exhaustion. After sometime the sounds of a waterfall could be heard in the distance. He followed the noise to a clearing where he found a spring. He nearly collapsed through the bushes. But before he had a chance to enter the water, he noticed the ripples were clashing, something had just disturbed the water. He fully intended to find out who or what it was.

The Shadow crawled through the grass, silent as a cat, following the direction of the ripples. He tried to listen for sounds other than those coming from the falls, but his head was beginning to spin from blood loss.

He was hiding in the grass a few feet away from the water. He was pressing his body to the ground, trying to keep his blood from drifting into the water. Which would give away his position. He was close enough to see the creature that had made the ripples, but the figure was too blurred to be seen clearly. His breathing was becoming harsh and causing the grass near his face to sway. His options were narrowing: either die in the grass from blood loss or potentially by the figure’s sword. Waiting was the safest option at this point in time…but there wasn’t much time he had to spare.

Any careful fighter would have smelled the blood on his body. Any careful fighter would have heard the rhythmic rustling in the grass. Lucky for the Shadow the figure was not a careful fighter, but a human girl.

The Girl continued with her intentions, undisturbed by any sounds that the Shadow had failed to conceal. She was wading into the water, letting her skirts swirl around her body. She traveled across the pool to the slick rocks under the cascades. She shakily lifted herself up and onto the rocks, letting the water pour over her. The Girl tilted her head back to allow the water to pour over her face and dark hair.

The Shadow watched and waited, until his vision had almost completely faded and his limbs had become numb. After sometime the Girl slipped off the rocks and into the pool. He could wait no longer; he knew the Girl was still present but in his fatigue he became brash. Despite the fact that she was only a human he felt threatened by her, in this state of weakness even a human could kill him. All the human would have to do was be patient.

The Shadow rose out of the grasses. Shakily he walked towards the water. All he heard was a beautiful scream. Then the world turned completely black.





Chapter 2-Disbelief

The Shadowed God awoke to silence. His memories faded back as he lay. Slowly he began to remember pieces. Some parts added up, most of them didn’t make any sense. He remembered a battle, urgency, blood, and then a figure. But that was all. The harder he tried to recapture the memories, the more they seemed to slip away. Finally once his head began pounding, he decided to give up.

He slipped in and out of consciousness for many hours. Occasionally he would wake in a rush of apprehension, and then forgetting why he roused, would slip back into sleep.

Meanwhile, the world around him continued to tick. In a nearby village, a girl was telling the tale about a dying man.
***
A crowd had gathered around her, some people were shouting questions. Others were shouting profanity. She tried her hardest to speak quickly because her news was rather urgent.

“ We need to help him!” She yelled. “ He might die if we wait any longer!”

“ Hogwash! Our sacred God Drien protects this forest - nothing wicked can enter. If you say he looks like he has been cut up, then it is you who must be lying.” An old woman said shaking a knobby finger at the Girl.

“No! Please, I’m telling the truth; he needs our help.  Or else he’ll bleed to death.”

“ We have heard enough of your lies. You’re the healer’s apprentice. Fix him yourself.” The old woman had heard enough, she took her basket of bread and walked off. With her the crowd dispersed, all of them leaving in different directions.

“ Please help me…” She begged falling to her knees, “I don’t think I can heal him myself.”

The rest of the crowd had gone, but before her stood a young woman. The woman took her hands and spoke sweetly “Eilyn, its not that we don’t want to help. It’s just that, you can tell tales so…” the woman seemed to be searching for words “ realistically. Sometimes people don’t know whether they are true or just stories.”

“ But this isn’t a story,” Eilyn defended, tears welling in her eyes.

“ I know my dear. But we just don’t have time to investigate, spring is just a few days away. We must continue our planting.” The woman looked at her sympathetically, then slowly walked away.

Eilyn knew she should have expected this. The Village never listened to her, but then again she hadn’t ever really been right. She went back to the healer’s shop and gathered some materials. She was going to find a way to save this man’s life. Then the Village would see that she was telling the truth. With a basket full of linen cloth and several herbal salves, she started back into the wood toward the dying man.

The waterfall was the first indication that Eilyn was nearing the clearing. Its cascades could be heard for nearly half a mile away. Her footsteps became softer as the ground under her feet slowly turned to damp earth. She quickened her pace once she could see the clearing. The bushes nearly exploded as she broke through them, but she stopped short, her breath welling in her chest.

“It’s just not possible.” Eilyn whispered, “ He was dying.”

The area near the bank of the river was stained with blood. All manner of creatures were buzzing around the black crust hoping to find fresher meat. But the dying man was gone. All that remained of him were the bloodstains, which the insects feasted on ravenously.

It simply wasn’t possible. He was near death; he was beyond near death. He just couldn’t have gotten up and walked away. The man could barely breathe. Eilyn tried to comprehend what had happened and tried to make sense of the empty clearing. An animal could not have drug his body away.

The mud was soft, Eilyn’s footprints could be easily made out in the earth, but so could any other animals and the only tracks near the blood-encrusted riverbank were hers.

Another idea struck her. Eilyn set her basket on a few rocks and waded into the water. Even though it was mid afternoon, the spring air had not completely taken the chill out of the water. The water was more than shocking; it took her breath away. Shivering she pushed herself into the middle of the stream. The waterfall made eddies around rocks and Eilyn’s body. Her skirts pulled taut down the meandering stream. She took a deep breath and lay on her back, the water pushing her floating body downstream.

The current was strong enough to carry her several feet rather quickly. But she was standing in the middle of the river, where the waterfall could add power and speed to the water. Eilyn doubted that the water could have had enough strength to lift and drag the man from shore downstream. But she tested it anyway.

Careful to avoid the insect infested bloodstains, Eilyn lay on the riverbank closest to the bugs that she dared to be. She left her feet and one arm in the water and the rest of her body on shore. Where she was the current wasn’t even strong enough to pull her legs. The man had not been drug downstream. 

All of her testing had proved false. There was no explanation for the missing man. If she couldn’t see the bloodstains and the impressions so clearly in the mud she would have thought herself insane. But the blood was there and so the man had to have been there.

***
The Bloodstained God crouched to the ground hesitating. He was on the outskirts of a small village. He could smell the cooking fires just beyond the forest’s edge. As he watched carefully, he noticed the people. Everyone was hurrying about; trying to do their days work. Though hasty, they were kind to one another, greeting by name everyone who passed. Villages like this one did not take kindly to strangers. He would have to return by nightfall.

He turned to leave, but something moved to his left. A stick cracked close by on a path, as the outline of a girl came into view. She was holding a basket of cloth; her head was bowed, either in prayer, or shame. She did not notice him as she passed, but he took careful notice of her. She seemed familiar, like a character in a dream come to life, though he couldn’t place her. As she rounded the last few trees, she took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something difficult. He quickly found out why.

***

The Villagers were jeering at her. They took turns laughing, teasing, taunting, they called her names, like liar, storyteller, and mythmaker. Eilyn tried her hardest not to cry, or just run away. She sunk inside herself and slowly made her way back to the apothecary’s shop, ignoring the sneers and snickers of her townspeople as she passed them.

She returned the barrowed supplies to the apothecary and herbalist, but she kept the basket for herself, along with a small glowing sapling she had found in the woods near the bloodstains. She would need the basket later tonight. She planned to never again have to see the sun rise on this town.

Eilyn knew something they did not, and did not wish to be here when they discovered it. This thought helped her pack what little worldly items she possessed and prepare herself for nightfall, when she would leave this village and its dangerous forests forever. 

Biding her time until sundown, the Apothecary’s apprentice kept up a decent act. She pretended she knew nothing of the dying man’s true nature, or the glowing tree in her basket. She went to the market to sell or trade some things she didn’t have any need for.

Luckily, she managed to sell a gold bracelet, silk shawl, and looking glass. The traveling trader looked at her skeptically until she explained they belonged to her deceased mother. He paid her a decent sum, which she used to purchase a knife, leather satchel, and food supplies. She was able to haggle the prices low enough to still have two gold Pents, and three brass Lefs.

Satisfied in her purchases, she was about to leave the market when a peddler caught her eye. He was trying to coax some villagers to purchase a book.

“Listen to me, this book is worth at least four silver Grells. But I’ll sell it to you, for only eight Lefs. How’s that sound hmm?” The man was stooped over, and travel worn, one eye popped out in such a fashion that he reminded Eilyn of a little brown shrew. He even had a voice to match, high and squeaky, it broke off if he talked for a long period of time. Which he seemed to do quite often. “You won’t pay me that? Why not? Its quite a fair deal. Do you not know what this book is? Have you not seen what knowledge it possesses?”  He was shaking, and twitching his nose at the villagers that attempted to pass.

It was quite obvious that this man was not going to let the villagers leave. Eilyn decided to step in.

“They can’t read.” She said simply, “ They won’t pay that much for that worn out book, because they have no use for it. Hardly anyone in this village can read. If you’re looking to sell a book for that price may I suggest you try Moria. We don’t purchase things we cannot use here.”

The peddler seemed quite taken aback, though he recovered quickly and soon enough his shrill voice began cracking.
“Do you not know what this is? Miss, this is a book of legends.  It holds tales of the Gods. It tells the stories that we humans cannot remember, the gory battles between Gods and their slayers.”

Myths were something Eilyn had always had an interest for, and legends were myths in the making. She was curious.

“It is worn and old, the thing looks like it is going to disintegrate any moment. You’ll be lucky if you can get two Lefs for that, even in Moria.” She sounded haughty, and matter of fact. Eilyn had a knack for haggling, she knew her opponents weaknesses and knew when to attack them. She would leave with the price she desired, and the peddler, though fighting, knew it.  “Besides, its written in Braeish. Even you must know that particular language is forbidden. Holding such a book is punishable. I will not pay for what may sentence me to prison.”

“It is worn with use, my dear, it was inscribed by witnesses to these great events and if there is no better proof of its age it is in fact written in Braeish, a language dead for many generations. Its rarity is no better explained than by such laws, it is one of the few books still possessing the forbidden language. Four Lefs is my final offer for such a magnificent relic, anything lower and I could turn you in for thievery.” His voice rose and his eye popped more with every desperate word.

“Well, I’m not paying a single Lef. I simply do not think these myths could be worth even that much.” She was leading him into a trap and he was wildly following her every word.

“Do not judge a book by it cover,” He sighed, though nearly defeated he was still fighting. “If you do not think this book is worth so much, then fine, think what you will. But spend an hour, read one legend, and you will see how much this book is worth indeed. Unless you yourself cannot read the sacred language.” He mused, twitching his nose and rubbing his hands together.

The peddler was not as dimwitted as he seemed he was attacking her pride; a move that was nearly sure to land him a checkmate. 

“I am not so unintelligent or so ignorant as to not read the writings of my kin! I accept. The terms are set; I will purchase the book for your asking price if I feel, after one hour, that the book is worth so much. Otherwise, I walk away with a full pouch and empty hands.” Eilyn huffed.

He handed her the book twitching and snickering, and gestured to the bench beside his peddler’s barrow. She then placed herself down and opened the cracked leather cover.
 
If this book were any other or if she had been reading at any other time, Eilyn would have started at the beginning. But this time she opened the book to somewhere in the middle. Large black letters spelled out across the top of the page, indicating which legend she was about to step into.





Chapter 3- The God Slaying Demon

Crimson enmity, golden rage, and dark malice all reflect themselves in their purest forms to those foolish enough to strike swords with the God Slayer. He is said to be a demon from hell blessed by the Dark Lord himself, then later cursed with bindings to the earth because he was uncontrollable.

His sword, fastened of onyx melded with steel, is able to cut clean dragon bone and goblin scale in one swift swing. Those that speak with silent tongue say that the sword emits a fluorescent void when doused in blood. The hilt of this deadly blade is stained black with the blood of those it was immersed in.

The cursed weapon as it glides through the air sings a demonic melody. If you are pitied, that shadows song will be brief. He who walks with demons at his feet sings to the aria of a poisoned soul. His sword conveys this song.

Golden embers envelope blackened ash, surrounded by scarlet, a fate reflected in these colors more pronounced than the fury of their possessor. His eyes hold the flame, the fury, and the fate of Gods. Their destiny is inescapable death.

Yet, as blood spills over his sword, quenching its thirsting cries, his eyes hold a different light. The miraculous twilight of a fading dusk, the lost brother of the dawn, a forgotten emotion more painful than any razor could be. A blink of his eyes, the color gone, holding only sparks of a roaring flame, to be rekindled in another battle soon to come. 

Only the wind dares to whisper his name, only the nocturnal beasts dare to glace upon his shadow, and only Gods dare to appose his blade. All of whom find the icy sting of a razors edge and the horrifying warmth of pierced flesh.

The book slammed shut.

“Time’s up dear.” Sneered the mousy peddler. “Its worth a couple of Lefs an hour I’m sure.  Pay up, and you can read every hour for the rest of your life.”

“I still can’t believe I’m paying you this much for a book, barely worth my time.” Eilyn snapped back as she unfastened her money pouch.
“Don’t lie to me. You were transfixed on the book. I called to you several times warning you that you had indeed read past your hour. You didn’t hear a word I said, no matter how loudly I called.” The peddler laughed a snickering squeaky laugh, before piping in  “The sun is about to set and I have places to go. Give me my four Lefs and take the book.”
***
The sun had long set and the shadows crept back into the land, covering and concealing every inch of the village. It was a new moon, and the unforgiving sky held no guiding light. This was the way the God enjoyed night. He could walk silently but openly, and never be seen nor heard. On nights like these, there was no need to creep about like a beast.

The cooking fires dwindled next to the sleeping villager’s huts, and even the smoke from the warming fires inside were lessening. The entire town was hushed, as if the small village itself was sleeping, innocent to the intruder lurking amongst its houses.

The God stalked invisibly between the tiny homes, weaving his way into the heart of the village. Uncertain where to begin his searching, he decided it would be best to work from the inside out. So that the most dangerous areas would be sifted through while he still had the cover of darkness.

***

The moon was nowhere to be seen. Eilyn had planned to leave when the moon rose, but the moon never showed.  Uncertain how much time had passed since twilight or how long until dawn, she decided it was late enough when all of the candles in the windows of the townspeople had been snuffed.

When the last visible light had gone out, she gathered her supplies and carefully closed the shop’s door. Eilyn had never been much of a sneak. She had never needed to quiet her breathing, or silence her footsteps. There was also the matter of the small glowing tree in her basket, which was lighting her way as she crossed through the town square. If anyone in the town had been up and about, there is no doubt she would have been caught.  But someone else was up and about, and he had the intentions of also not getting caught…no matter the costs.

***

A soft hush came from a door that in anyone else’s hands would have slammed shut. But the Shadowed God was much too skilled to slam a door.  Walking out of the book keep’s hut he caught sight of the girl. Had she not turned then to look at him with a look of shock and horror he would have let her pass. But she took in her breath so sharply that he realized she was preparing to scream. In a fraction of a second he was beside her with his hands around her neck.

As the girl’s body became limp she dropped the items she was holding. The myth book fell open at her feet, the tree beside it. If the sapling hadn’t lit the exposed pages, the Shadowed God would certainly have killed her. But it was in the feeble tree light, that he realized he needed her.




Chapter 4- The Angle of Dying

There was a chill to the air, a certain coldness that Eilyn couldn’t describe. It was a numb cold, the type that forced her to shiver until it sunk into her skin. Though she tried to warm herself by rubbing her hands along her arms, nothing seemed to help. It was as if the chill had burrowed to her bones. The dampness of her surroundings didn’t help much either.

Wherever she was, it was dark, very dark. She couldn’t see much aside from her own body. Though occasionally she could hear dripping sounds that would echo around her. She turned to face where she though the noise was coming from but it seemed to be everywhere at once, like the cold.

Drip
Drip

“Hello?” She cried.
“Hello.” Echoed a voice that sounded much more frail and afraid than Eilyn had intended hers to sound.

Drip
Drip

“Hello, little girl.” Whispered a voice behind her. She whirled around to face the voice. But only found darkness. “If you are trying to find me, I would suggest you put aside your attempts and waste your time on much more possible actions.” The voice was a mans, smooth and deep but sickeningly sweet sounding and terrifying because it was too alluring to be entirely human.

“Who are you?” Eilyn asked, trying to keep the voice talking. She wasn’t entirely sure couldn’t find the voice’s owner.

The velvet voice chimed a puzzling answer, “I am not who you think I am. No matter what you thought. Because the man who I was. Is now who I am not. “ He said no more. Waiting for her to speak.

It took a long time for Eilyn to finally admit she didn’t know what the man was talking about. “I don’t think I understand”

“In time, little girl, you will figure it out. If you have not by the end of this adventure of yours, then I will advise you on the proper action to take to achieve the answer or explanation you seek.” He said simply, as if he had said it ten thousand times before.

“What adventure?” Curiosity can be dangerous, as Eilyn was about to find out.

“Ah, yes, well it seems you have forgotten. Perhaps a small reminder is necessary.”
Eilyn had never before seen sound solidify, but somehow that is just what the man’s voice did. The words she heard, as they reached her ears, formed into shadow. The shadow swirled and ebbed until she began to discern a pattern. The man’s voice was turning into a man.

“You are not very intelligent, are you?” Sneered the velvet voice, “most people spend their last waking moments trying to memorize the features of their murderer. But here you stand, just gawking at him like you have never seen this man before in your life.”

“What do you know of people’s last thoughts?” Eilyn snapped, she did not appreciate having a formless voice insulting her intelligence.

“I spend quite a bit of time with the dying and the man in front of you has spent more time forcing the living into that state than any other man before him” The voice sounded impressed, with either himself or the slowly forming man. Eilyn couldn’t tell which.

Then a realization hit her so hard it almost made her head hurt “Are you death? Am I dead?”

“Well, no and no. Not quite, to answer both questions. I do not particularly like the dead. I prefer a more intelligent and amusing audience to spend my eternity with.  Now stop getting distracted! You are ruing the whole objective of the slowly forming man. I do not care to waste special effects if you are not going to pay attention to them.” He snapped

Eilyn let out a long sigh. At least she wasn’t dead. She had too much to do to be dead yet. She had just escaped the village and all.

The next realization happened much more slowly. She was assuming she had gotten out of the village. But something about the coalescing shadow and the man forming in front of her made that particular thought absurd.

“That man…” was all she could whisper

As soon as the words escaped her lips the man’s eyes shot open. From them poured the most powerful light she had ever seen. His eyes blazed like fire, and the heat from them seared her skin.

The hell ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. When the man blinked his fire-eyes he disappeared, as did the pain of the burns. She was standing once again in the void. The dripping had ceased, and she almost missed its noise. This darkness was too silent.

A cold hand wrapped around her neck. Just before she screamed she heard the Angle of Dying say, “Not man. God”