Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III
Chapter 13 - War Drums

Megan watched the angels with swords withdrawn, in apparent confusion at having been met in the tunnels. It made no sense to her that they had come by the same way that she, Dufaii, and Michael had. At least, it made no sense until she noticed Abha staring at her from among the rest of the angels. He looked her in the eyes and she heard his voice inside her head. “Find Hades and tell her everything. Hurry!” Then, his face changed as if he had never said a word. He followed the other angels, pretending to be as confused as the rest. It seemed he hadn’t betrayed them.

Even so, Megan didn’t know what to do and felt frozen in place with her companions. Should she try for the mercy of the angels ahead of them or that of the demons chasing from behind? Even though she now felt strong animosity toward the angels, a part of her still realized that the forces of light were far more interested in human wellbeing than the tortured monsters of Hell. However, the rage that had driven her to fight and act so many times up till now said something different. It told her that she could not trust her fear any more than the icons of safety and goodness of her childhood.

“Keep your weapons close and keep your calm no matter what happens,” Dufaii whispered. He then drew his sword and turned to face the demons behind them.

Michael, on the other hand, stepped between her and the other angels with his claymore ready. There was an uncertain expression on his face. He looked between the approaching angels with their weapons drawn, his fellow Archangels, and the Creator. He spread his wings wide so that he nearly blocked the tunnel entirely.

Raphael stepped forward, her face calm and stern. There was no emotion in what she did, only the coolness of a leader who knew that all eyes were upon her. She said, “Michael, we are here to challenge Ammon, as was agreed, and to retrieve our soldiers. We know that you have them.” She looked past his legs to where he had dropped the bag of severed heads belonging to the angels who had attacked them.

“You may have them, but you are breaking the truce by bringing your army here,” Michael said, aiming his sword at the closest angel so that they stopped before they were in reach of his blade.

“Actually, we have the Lightbringer’s full permission to be here,” Raphael replied, her tone still just as calm.

“You know the Lightbringer’s permission means nothing!” Michael thundered, looking at all the soldiers opposing him. “You would need the permission of Hades and Ammon to be justified in this act of aggression.”

“Not according to the words of the truce signed by the Lightbringer on behalf of his people,” Raphael said. “And if our army is attacked by any demon on our way to Ammon, they will be the ones breaking the terms of the truce.”

“Of course, they will attack you!” Michael said, pursing his face as if he’d just heard the most asinine statement he could have imagined possible. But then his sword lowered a bit and his face became pale. “But … you know that … you’re inciting them to break the truce so that you can go to war.”

“We will give you one opportunity to stand down, Michael,” Raphael said. “You may return to Heaven with an escort until we can make time for a fair trial on your behalf. Or you may return to the physical realm with the mortal that you helped drag into all this. Just don’t let us find you when this is all over.”

Megan felt her face burn red at those words and at the situation. She understood that this was all an act of manipulation, to further whatever obscure agenda was at hand. The most intimidating factor, however, was the presence of the Creator–who Megan had at least thought reasonable enough to not take a side in these affairs. Yet here they were during this show of force.

“Creator, please say something,” Michael said, his voice quieter than it had been. But his words fell upon seemingly deaf ears and a mute tongue. His sword fell lower, which Megan found somehow surprising despite how much strength it must have taken to hold the massive thing at all. Then, the pointed end of his weapon fell, spun back, and was lifted so that he held it in a defensive position. He said, “The demons can’t break the truce to attack you if you can’t get past me.”

Megan felt herself exhale for just a moment … until Gabriel and Raphael both drew their weapons, a small shield and a saber respectively, and stepped forward. Megan reached into her pockets to grab her weapons but felt a set of large hands close in on her arms. She thought they belonged to Dufaii until she turned and saw that he was standing several feet away, watching the other demons retreat back to the entrance of the tunnel. The demon who had grabbed her was the lion demon that she had stabbed with the sharpened stone–Buer. She opened her mouth to scream but stopped when she felt him release her.

“I am not your enemy, human,” Buer whispered, regarding her with an oddly respectful tone. He beckoned her so that they could follow the other demons. “We must return and prepare for battle. Your … unusual allies will be able to fight more freely and hold the Creator off longer given the space to do so.”

Dufaii turned to her before she could reply and said, “Go with him. Find Exousia and tell her everything that has happened. I will buy you all as much time as I can.” His skin began to change and become dark, until he looked more like a shadow than a demon. Then he ducked nearly invisibly into one of the many passages–no doubt waiting in ambush.

Megan followed the lion demon into the tunnel, taking several steps before she remembered what Abha had said. “Actually … Abha told me to find Hades. She has to know what’s happened.”

“I’m supposed to report to Lieutenant Yana,” Buer replied, furling his nose. Megan wondered, was the person named Hades in charge of a different faction of demons than this lion? She suddenly feared that she had just revealed something that would hurt her allies. But Buer then shook his head and said. “But in light of an attack … and the betrayal of the Lightbringer … there is no room for division among us. We will send messengers to both parties that they meet us here under truce. Exousia too, if we can find her.”

-O-

Exousia looked around for anything she could use as a weapon and spotted a bone candle-stand that was taller than she was. She jumped to the side and grabbed it, holding the weighted end behind her. Along with an end of the pole, Exousia kept her pocket knife in the corner of her hand. She faced her enemies, each of which had an amused expression at what they clearly perceived as mere antics.

“Would you like me to subdue her, Mr. Green?” asked the demon in the form of a human secretary. She withdrew two long black knives strapped to the outsides of her thighs and held them in a backward grip. She fell into a low stance as she approached, indicating a subtle style like that of an assassin demon.

Mr. Green smiled and waved her off. “No, it seems we have a visitor who would like that privilege. And it’s a convenient thing too, because more stiff-necked guests are coming soon after.”

Exousia did not have time to think about what had been said.

Ammon darkened the doorway to the fortress—his beard and hair looking wild and unkempt. He looked like a rabid dog, covered in armor that hung haphazardly. In his arms was a crossbow, trained dead ahead. Behind him, his four most formidable soldiers lined up. They were the gorilla-shaped battle-sisters, Yana and Attel, along with the cyclops and mummy that Exousia didn’t recognize. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“We’ve wanted this for so long …” the Madness whispered through the demon’s lips. “We will kill you again, cut you into pieces, and torture each one for the rest of eternity.”

Exousia would have replied had she been able to think of anything that would give her an edge. But verbal warfare didn’t matter now. She was surrounded by demons against whom she did not stand a chance. Exousia looked at the doors around her, trying to figure out if any of the others were unlocked. If she could escape into one, maybe she could hide until she found a way out.

“Don’t you dare try to run,” the Madness growled as it held the weapon to its eye to aim at her. “We want this to be perfect …”

“And we will let you have this perfect moment,” Mr. Green said. “This mansion and all that is in it belong to you now, Ammon, or whatever you call yourselves now. We surrender it completely and wish you nothing but luck in the war to come. All I ask is that you lend me the girl when you are finished inflicting all the pain you would like. I’ll need her for some … personal projects.”

“I’m afraid not, Lightbringer,” Yana said and grabbed the crossbow forcefully from her general’s hands. She barely needed to aim before she fired a bone shot into Mr. Green’s stomach.

“You fucking bitch!” the Madness screamed, rage boiling in its black eyes. “Destroy her, now! Destroy this traitorous-”

With a straight punch, Yana put Ammon’s body to the floor, unconscious. She turned to her three companions and said, “Do not let Ammon, the Lightbringer, or any of their cohorts leave this room.” Immediately, Attel blocked the door with her hulking body while the other two demons took positions beside her, weapons all at the ready.

For a moment, all Exousia could do was blink in confusion. She had been … rescued by Ammon’s own soldiers. But then remembering that none of this was over, she glared at the wounded Mr. Green.

Mr. Green hissed as he ripped the arrow out of him like it was nothing. Black blood poured from between the torn fabric of his pinstriped suit. He extended a hand and one of his soldiers placed a trident into his grasp. It was the same weapon that the Lightbringer had used to fight the Creator so many millennia before. Even as all other things had changed … that one thing hadn’t.

Exousia looked to the demons who had come to her aid and said, “I didn’t think you would believe me.”

Yana seemed unphased, even after Exousia’s earlier attack. Drawing her weapon, she replied simply, “We played along to keep his madness managed. But we know the real Ammon, and who he always wanted to fight at his side.”

Exousia felt confused that the demons would speak to her like this after all her failures. But she said, “I came here to fight with all of you, also.” Then she readied her weapons and turned back to back with Yana as their enemies began to surround them.

“You will all be sewn together to form the first new monstrosity this place has seen in centuries,” Mr. Green said as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He then pointed with his trident, leaped into the air with speed and power unexpected even from a demon and roared.

Exousia jumped back and used her makeshift staff to shield herself but felt no impact from the powerful lunge. Instead, she heard a thunderous clash as two powerful forces collided in the air—those of Yana and Mr. Green. Exousia narrowly evaded in time to avoid becoming part of the stone crater that they left when they hit the floor. Even then, she wasn’t out of danger by a long shot.

The demon shaped as a secretary lunged at Exousia next, with a flurry of swings from her two long knives. She moved fast and did not invest any unnecessary power into her motions. Every strike found either the air where Exousia would have been except for a dodge, or else the bone surface of the staff she used to block.

Exousia heard a gasp and glanced back. Yana’s allies had joined in on the fight against Mr. Green. Even outnumbered, the Lightbringer’s smaller size lent to agility, and his power was already without match. He impaled Attel with his trident and was using her body to batter the others.

Then Exousia felt a hot pain as a knife cut through her arm.

The demon fighting her smiled and said, “Better pay attention. Your teacher did well to take me out quickly; he should have taught you the same.”

Exousia dodged another stab and used her momentum to spin her staff around her head to smash the stand end into the demon’s shoulder. It was enough to stagger her but, more importantly, it broke off the heavy bottom of the stand and left a pointed end like a spear. Exousia followed it up with a series of jabs.

The demon avoided each of these subsequent strikes with the help of her knives. Then, unexpectedly, she twirled her body and threw one of her blades. It snapped Exousia’s staff into two, so it was useless as a spear. The demon then went on the offensive, with another flurry of strikes. Then she let loose a kick with one of her sharpened stiletto heels while she recovered the thrown knife from the ground.

Exousia used the two broken staff pieces to deflect her strikes as best she could. Still, it didn’t take long before a blade caught her shoulder. Another shallow cut, but this demon was clearly outmatching her in hand to hand combat. Finally, Exousia decided that fighting on even ground was not a viable option. She drew on the powers of the elder god and extended a hand toward the demon. A tendril of shadow emerged from the floor and slithered up her ankle. This caused the demon to trip backwards–toward the castle doors.

With bloodlust fresh in her spirit, Exousia lunged and bit into the demon’s neck. She could barely even feel the two blades cutting her back. Their combined weight and the force of the lunge snapped something in the door–already weakened by the Hydra still trying to break through from the other side. Immediately, the Hydra managed to reach a claw into the small gap in the door. It ripped the door inward and darted its head in. Immediately, its eyes fell on the demon slashing desperately at Exousia still biting her throat mercilessly. The Hydra screeched and lifted the demon between its twelve heads. It then began to pull her apart.

Exousia basked in that moment, smiling with pure glee as black blood showered upon her. Her magic was powerful in this place–where the whispers of condemnation seemed to only fuel the darkness inside her. It was only that something in the back of her mind that fought back. It seemed to call out through the fog with whispers of self-criticism–reminding her that this magic-drunk feeling was an evil one. Reluctantly, Exousia bit her own hand to elicit more pain. This helped her regain some control of herself as she walked back into the center of the room.

Mr. Green’s chest was expanding and deflating dramatically with each labored breath. His black suit was in tatters around him, and blood poured from several wounds. But he was the only fighter left standing. Yana, Attel, and the others were in crumpled heaps around the room. “The power feels good doesn’t it? To not have to feel all that pain inside of you.”

Exousia lifted her knife in front of her and said, “I don’t use my power to numb my pain. I use it to destroy sadistic monsters like you.”

Mr. Green let out a laugh and replied, “Yes … I guess that’s true. You were taught to use other ‘acceptable’ little tricks to numb the pain weren’t you? What’s your current madness of choice? Kueng’s stoicism? Dufaii’s self-discipline? Ooh! I know, how about some of your good old fashioned martyrdom? You know that one well, don’t you, Exousia? Set against impossible odds—only a distraction while your betters come up with a plan. Oh yes, that convenient little drug is familiar to you isn’t it?”

Exousia seethed between breaths, wanting more than anything to again let loose with her magic. The only problem was that a part of her worried she might not come back from it if she did. Still, with every word that came from the Lightbringer’s lips, she wanted all the more to give in.

Mr. Green placed a hand on his chest theatrically. “Kind reminds you of the Challenge doesn’t it? An enemy with a core of good—interspersed with insanity? A self-hostage taking that will inevitably make you compromise in what you claim to be your ultimate goal?

Exousia shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re babbling on about.”

But Mr. Green’s eyes were like those of sharks. He’d gotten the smell of blood in the water and now hungered for the kill. “Are you certain about that? You keep tight control on your use of your magics because your true Madness is one of a different sort. It’s this drive inside you to fight that which you know will be your doom. Because you search for the ultimate relief of pain–your own death.”

Exousia paused, remembering Roach speaking of the same thing. Had the Mr. Green persona been weaseling his way back in control even back then? More importantly … had they been right?

Though she tried to fight it, Exousia knew deep down how much she feared …. especially when it came to people and being hurt by them. There was already so much pain inside from all she’d lived and all she’d lost. So much so that, sometimes, she felt like a living wound in the fabric of reality–keeping itself together through force of will alone. For a while, she’d kept this knowledge repressed—telling herself that she’d been reborn as a new creature with no ties to all the pain which had formed her.

However, Exousia’s dreams in the forest had revealed to her the truth. She hadn’t been reborn when her soul had been mixed with that of Dufaii. No, some subconscious part of her took that event as a chance to kill the part of her own heart that felt too much pain to survive. All in a desperate attempt to escape. But had she really? Had she once, even upon being told that she was meant as a sacrificial lamb, tried to change that fact? No … the truth was that she hadn’t even told Dufaii. Why? In part because, in an act of egotism, she had blocked the impossibility from her mind and stubbornly decided that it wouldn’t be impossible for her. But there was also a part of her, deep down, that had seen her loss as acceptable. Because in her heart of hearts, Exousia did not feel that she could expect more. She did not feel that she … deserved … any more than to be a checker piece to be traded in the games of others. This was the reason she had not told him about what she’d learned in Heaven. It was why she’d always secretly felt more comfortable with the training of those trying to turn her into a weapon over the demon who treated her as his own child.

Exousia realized that her loss in the Challenge still felt like it should have been an end to all the pain. That Ammon’s insistence for her to join him still felt like he had robbed her of that peace. Was that why she was here now—to face off against that one being that might be able to destroy her once and for all? Exousia shut her eyes and reached into her pocket for a checker piece that was no longer there. Could this finally be the end? Could she at long last hand the checker piece back to her opponent and accept the loss of the game?

The Hydra roared.

The Seer shuddered in fear.

The Lightbringer sneered as they gloated their dominance and victory over the good and kind being trapped helplessly within. A being that had told her not to view purposeful martyrdom as anything more than an excuse to rest.

And her own heart ached with grief at the life of happiness and love that had been snatched away from her from the human in the next room.

All for the sake of the Balance.

No … this cycle of injustice had to end, and it had to end at its source.

Exousia opened her eyes again; the world around her grew dark as she set her sights on her target. No doubt sensing her intention, The Hydra hissed and drew its twelve heads back to strike at Mr. Green with her. But Exousia put a hand on it, shook her head, and said with an otherworldly tone that seemed to reverberate lowly off the walls, “I’ll deal with him. I need you to keep the others off me.”

The Hydra bared its teeth when it saw them and took off down the hall. It wasn’t long before it was thrashing and tearing at the other demon, trying to catch her while she rolled and flew across the room.

Mr. Green smiled and clapped his hands together. “So you have decided on a physical battle you cannot win–excellent!” He snapped his fingers so that a tether appeared, bound to both ends of his trident. He slung his weapon over his back and casually walked forward. He was using the non-aggressive stance to inevitably force her to strike first.

Exousia circled and then used her foot to launch a stone vase. Even before it had hit, she was charging.

Mr. Green caught the vase in both hands, turned to put it on the ground, and performed a backward kick with the flat of his leather shoe that successfully connected with her chest.

Exousia felt the wind knocked out of her lungs, and then felt the stone ground as she landed on her back. She rolled and jumped to her feet, ready for another attack.

But Mr. Green casually placed the vase on the floor alongside the wall and said to the Warden, “Kindly make sure that the Hydra does not get its claws on the Seer, would you?”

The Warden nodded, still holding the Seer by the neck as she fought the Hydra along with her guards. She seemed too busy to respond, continuing to bash at the heads with a club..

Mr. Green returned his attention to his own fight. “I hope you didn’t think that giving your life to fight me would be a suitable distraction to get to the Seer,” he said with a shake of his head and a mildly disapproving tone. Once again, he began to slowly walk forward again.

Exousia didn’t want to attack again, but the alternative was to allow herself to be within reach of an opponent with greater physical strength. If he caught her, the fight would be over. So, Exousia let out a heel strike at his knees.

Mr. Green twisted his leg so that the blow harmlessly hit the back of his knee. Then, he used the power generated by turning his body to straighten out with a backhanded strike.

Fire in her face was all Exousia could sense until her body again crashed to the ground. The blow had hit the side of her face with the scar. And though the injury itself was no longer a source of pain, the memories and fear it brought with it staggered her. Her stomach tightened, and she momentarily felt like maybe she was that child again. The stone floor busting her eyebrow and waking her from the waking nightmare was almost a mercy; the blinding pain forced her back into the present.

Suddenly, the Hydra let out a roar that betrayed exhaustion. It had been backed into a corner by the three demons, most of its heads dragging limply along the ground.

The Warden was now able to step away and calmly return to her master. She said, “The monster has been dealt with. Shall I gather the pieces of your assistant so that we can make our way out of here?”

Mr. Green looked mildly inconvenienced that his fun was over. “Yes, we’ll incapacitate the girl and then wait outside for the Archangels to escort us out. They want me long gone before the Creator fights Ammon.”

Exousia panted, not sure what to do. The Hydra looked at her with its two heads that remained conscious. Both looked fearful as they had on the day they’d met in the mines. On that day the two of them had defeated an entire battalion of angelic guards–even though Exousia herself had been far less powerful. They’d formed a bond because she had made herself vulnerable—allowing another creature as desperate for freedom as she was to become close to her.

Doing what scared her … that was always what had given her strength. Trusting in Dufaii to be her father when all of her experiences had told her that fathers only brought pain. Even opening up to Megan had made Exousia confront her own terror at losing yet another person she cared about. Ammon had praised all of this, saying that Exousia was as much a demon as a human. Had this been consolation from a merciful enemy or had it been continued instruction from the demon who was perhaps her greatest teacher?

Exousia’s eyes welled with tears as she remembered the lesson the Michael had tried to teach her all those years ago. Connection was her strength … not as a demon … or as a human … but as herself. It was time to do what Mr. Green said she wouldn’t—to walk forward into the pain and the fear she’d so long told herself was weakness.

Exousia looked up and met the Seer’s milky eyes; she opened her soul entirely to the storm within.

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