Part 2: Prelude to Siege
"They're coming!" Michael yelled, running recklessly
into the temple. "They're coming!"
A few of the clerics tried to stop him, but he had
passed them before they could so much as turn around. He burst into
the sanctuary, too winded to repeat his announcment. The clerics
caught up with him then, trying to keep him from passing out right there.
"Someone get Father Dabiri!" one of the clerics yelled. Another detatched
himself from the group and ran back into the hallway from which Michael
had entered. The remaining clerics tried to keep him stabilized and
conscious until Father Dabiri managed to get there. That was not
a very long time. A somewhat aged man, dressed in a slightly brighter
white robe than the rest of the clerics, appeared from the hallway.
Immediately, he gestured for the rest of the clerics to move back and went
to the man's aid.
"Who are you, sir? And who is coming?" The
priest asked, carefully.
"I am.... Michael Morhaime... and-" Michael winced
as some internal pain overcame him.
"You are injured..." Dabiri said, touching Michael
on the shoulder. There was a brief flash of light, and Michael's
pain vanished. "Now, continue. What has happened?"
"The garrison at Ethantac." Michael said,
somewhat suprised at his sudden reprieve from pain. "We were attacked
but hours ago. Thavirat's men- dogs, all of them- took us by suprise.
It was horrible... I was one of the few to escape. There were so
many of them! I came here to warn you. Thavirat's people know
about the treasure you have here. This is why they dare attack her
worship's garrison... they will come to you next. You must leave
here!"
"But we cannot... the shrine is immovable."
"Abandon the shrine! It is not the shrine
that matters! It is what is within the shrine that we must save from those
bastards!"
Father Dabiri shook his head. "Our goddess
has been here for generations. This temple was build around her...
we dared not move her from her resting place. We do not wish her
anger. She sleeps, within the shrine. We are safe here, in
the presence of our goddess. You too are safe. There is no
need to run from anything. We will not move her, nor ourselves."
Michael looked at the priest incredulously.
"Listen to me. Tavirat's men don't believe in your goddess.
They will not stop their attack merely because this is holy ground.
We must leave here and bring the goddess with us! If she falls into
the hands of those heretics, then all hope is lost."
"And you must listen to me. The goddess will
not allow herself to be profaned by nonbelievers. We can stay here
for as long as we wish, and be undisturbed. How much time until they
reach us?" Father Dabiri seemed calm, almost aloof from the situation.
Michael struggled to keep his anger from getting
the best of him. This stubborn old man was going to get them all
killed, but he sure was a firm believer in his goddess.... Whether
that was going to help or hurt them was yet to be seen. Michael sighed,
and then answered. "You have less than an hour. After that,
it will be too late."
"I am the pain."
"I am the anguish."
"I am the doombringer."
"I am these things and more."
"I am the Cataclysm."
These things he says to himself over and over, as
though to reassure himself of their truthfulness. He needs no such
reassurance, however. He knows these to be facts. He is Relln-Torm,
he is Kraith, he isÆallon'annon, he is a thousand other names forgotten
throughout the ages, a thousand forms lost in the mist of time, in the
debris of shattered universes.
This time, he is simply Stinnett. This time
he is human.
It occurs to him that he has not been human for
a long time, and as soon as he assumes the shape, he remembers why.
Humans disgust him.
Humans do more than that. Through their mere
existance, they infuriate him. On every universe that he has destroyed,
humans have ran rampant. Every time that the Goddess recreates the
universe, she populates it with them...
The Goddess.
Now there is an unpleasant thought, he thinks to
himself.
Perhaps more so than that of humanity.
The Goddess.
She had created the universe in the first place,
that he knows. There was only the Interim before. Perhaps she
had even created him. The thought is repugnant, but it does make
sense.
He has destroyed universes, seeing their human inhabitants
as weak and foolish... and she recreates them. She does nothing else
to interfere with him. She does not banish him to Hell, if such a
place should exist. She does not smite him from above. She
has not even made her presense known to him, excepting through the recreation
of the universe.
Perhaps there is no goddess, and the rebuilding
of the universe is merely a natural phenomenon.
That thought brings a brief smile to Stinnett's
face. But no, that cannot be the case, he reasons. She has
done something this time, something is out of place with the universe.
Like Dabiri, for instance. That man plagues
him. There have been powerful wizards in the past, but the Goddess
had never granted her priests powers. The fact that Dabiri, and his
whole order for that matter, wield power disturbs him. Stinnett is
unsure that their goddess and the Goddess he has come to hate with such
fervor were one in the same. Dabiri's clan claims to have thier goddess
inhabiting a body in their temple. That action seems a bit unrealistic
for the Goddess he knows and despises. It disturbs him though.
Whatever the case, this universe would be destroyed, just like all before
it. Neither the Goddess nor Dabiri's goddess would hinder him.
His armies- under the banner of that feeble drone Tavirat- were marching
on the temple and will capture Dabiri and everyone else there, goddess
included. If he can tap into her power, he reasons, true or not,
then he can bring about the Cataclysm that much sooner.
A messenger bursts into the room, panting and carrying
a scroll. "Sir Stinnett- news from Tavirat..."
Stinnett resists the urge to disintegrate the boy.
It is an urgent message, so he will not be destroyed. Merely punished
for disobeying his instruction: Do not disturb. Stinnett swiftly
takes the scroll and reads it.
"He has done it!" He laughs to himself.
"Ethantac has fallen, and Tavirat's riders will arrive at the temple within
the hour!"
The messenger leaves swiftly, afraid of the man's
reaction, afraid of the man's reputation, and afraid of the man in general.
A wise boy.
Stinnett allows himself a moment to enjoy what had
happened. His army will be within range of the temple in virtually
no time, but they will do nothing until he has arrived to personally order
them. Tavirat himself is merely a puppet, and an annoying one at
that. Stinnett smiles and closes his eyes. Where only a moment
before a man stood, now there is only a shade, a wispy black form filling
out empty clothing. The shade slipps out of the clothes, which fall
to the floor, and seeps through the cracks in the wall to the outside.
With no sound at all, Stinnet takes to the air,
barely visible against the black night sky.
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