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Shattered Mythos: Red - Chapter 10
Horror
 Created on 8-28-07
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Chapter 10: Berard
Authors Note: A rough version of the chapter, as always. Wait! Berard was... Eeeeeee!!!
Gravel crunched under his boot as he walked down the tunnel. He hated the underground, but this was his only access point to the Citadel that he could use without raising suspicions.
He scoffed as his torch sputtered and threatened to extinguish. When the torch finally did go out he let loose a barrage of slurs that would have made a storm hardened sailor blush.
"Now, now. Not afraid of the dark are we?"
Berard squinted at the darkness, attempting to locate the familiar voice. He cleared his throat and waved the extinguished torch nonchalantly, "Of course not Lady Ishva. That would be craven of me."
There was some light chuckling sounds coming from directly behind him. He spun around to face the source of the jovial response and was glad to see that his eyes were adjusting nicely to the gloom. He could just make out Ishva’s supine form leaning against the tunnel wall. She was carrying something in one of her hands, probably an unlit torch.
"Ah, craven. That would be like fleeing your Citadel and leaving it’s workings to me wouldn’t it? Afraid of your Goddess’ scorn?"
He watched as Ishva pushed herself from the wall with as much grace and fluidity as a cat stretching it’s body after a good nap. His eyes traced the curve of her body as she glided toward him.
"I didn’t flee. Could you do something about the torches please?"
Ishva laughed again. "Oh you’re a simple one Berard. The torches are lit, always have been."
Berard realized that the tunnel was, in fact, filled with torchlight. "I wish you wouldn’t use your magic on me like that. It’s bothersome."
Ishva shrugged and contorted her face into the best pout she could manage, "You’re no fun."
In the torchlight Berard could appreciate Ishva’s body with much greater ease than in the illusory dark. She was clad in a black wolf’s skin, supple as sin and practically clinging to her body. Beneath the pelt was a revealing outfit of fine silver colored silk that accented her pale skin, black hair, and icy blue eyes. Bangles and rings of silver and gold adorned her neck, wrists and fingers.
Taking note of Berard’s inadequate ability to remain focused on the task at hand, Ishva slipped in closer and pressed her body against his.
"You’ve been away for far too long, Lord Regent. People were beginning to suspect things."
Berard regarded her as coolly as he could manage under the circumstances. Ishva knew precisely how to manipulate him, it was true. He was as pliable as wet clay in her hands.
Her hands began to unlace his breeches, sending tingles of anticipation throughout his body. He could feel her heavy, hot, breath on his neck. His mind was a maelstrom of mixed emotions, but in that moment he decided that he did not care, that the past was nothing and the present was all that mattered.
The torches, forgotten by their respective carriers, found themselves falling to the floor. One sputtered and went out, while the other blazed as if it were quickened by some alchemical fuel. Berard wondered for one fleeting moment if this was another of Ishva’s illusions, but when she grabbed him and pulled him into her, he couldn’t be troubled to care.
The act took only a few minutes and in the final moments of their lovemaking Ishva bit his neck, tasting a small amount of his life’s blood. His body was so overwhelmed with adrenaline and testosterone that he barely felt it, though he knew what she had done and didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
He lowered himself to the floor and allowed his breathing to return to normal while Ishva surveyed the tunnel as if she had more important things to do.
"You said that people were beginning to suspect things?" Berard muttered, slightly out of breath.
A flicker of a smile played across Ishva’s lips. "Many of your soldiers think you’ve gone mad, what with the genocidal orders against the tribes and persecution of all Society members."
Berard could feel the blood leave his face. "Genocide? The Society? What have you been up to in my absence?"
"The old man that leads the Inquisition was an obstacle, I simply removed it. And the tribes? They were only going to become a nuisance in the future, so I simply sped things up. Besides, the seal needs sacrifices, both Wulfen and human."
"And how exactly am I to blame for this? I’ve been gone for over a month, there’s no way I could have made these orders."
Ishva laughed and extended her hand to help Berard rise. She didn’t say another word, just kept hold of his hand and led him out of the torchlight and down the darkened tunnel. If Berard remembered correctly then they should be near the intersection leading to the Seal Chamber, the citadel proper or Havenport. He felt Ishva tug him in a different direction, somewhere to the right of the path they had previously been on. If he was correct in assuming, then they were heading towards the Seal.
"Why are we moving towards the Seal? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to return to the Citadel so I can attempt to fix what you have done?"
Their progress halted for a moment. Ishva had deemed that it was as good a time as any to break her silence.
"We’ve been busy preparing for this event. If you hadn’t fled then we could have accomplished much more with your direction. Instead, I had to resort to cheap parlor tricks to accomplish our goals. It has taken several centuries for this plan to reach fruition, and even though you threatened the success of our mission I shall allow you to witness one of the final steps for yourself."
Berard was growing ever more irritated with each comment that had escaped from her mouth. She had never questioned his motives before, why would she do so now? She was charged with her own tasks as was he. He hadn’t fled the island to escape the wrath of his God. He had no fear of the broken Goddess. It was another task that required his attention to the east that had forced him to leave without notice. But that charge was complete, the being that he felt compelled to release was now following in the wake of the Walker. He couldn’t tell her why he felt the need to release the cursed chap that was locked away under the church of a small hamlet. No one ever told him to do it, it just seemed... right.
"You’ve always been a coward Berard. From the day I first came to you. Seduced you. Turned you against your people," Ishva taunted as she made a subtle motion with her hand in the darkness of the tunnel. A moment later a series of torches that had been pegged into the walls along the passageway burst into flames. "All so that you could be rewarded when my liege lord returns."
He felt himself move before his mind had even made itself up. His hand lashed out and struck Ishva bodily across the cheek, forcing her backwards. "Craven? A coward? In my absence you’ve found some courage and bit of insolence. I am your Lord for the time being and I’ll show you fear you stupid bitch!" He advanced on her but was taken aback when he realized that she was giggling. "Laughter? You think this is funny? You are a strange woman, Lady Ishva."
Ishva ran a pair of fingers over her cheek and smiled, "And you continue to amuse me. It appears you’ve found some courage yourself during your succor. An attractive quality."
They began walking again, and this time Berard tried to remain as carefree as he could manage. For several minutes they descended into the rock and soil, passing the occasional piles of debris that tended to signify human presence every few meters. The passage itself began to shrink so that Berard had to follow Ishva closely from behind. He could practically feel his clothing absorbing the moisture from the walls around him. It got so cramped that he had to twist his body and walk sideways to keep up with his guide.
The passage opened up abruptly after what seemed like ages to the claustrophobic General, but once he had noticed, his mind was set at ease. At least for a moment. The chamber they entered was covered in tents and animal pens. People clad in animal skins and crude armor milled about, set to their own individual tasks. A few gave notice to Ishva and bowed in respect, while others fled for the shadows. At the far end of the chamber was a large set of three stone steps, which led up to a flat stone platform that was adorned with a rectangular frame of granite, about five meters tall by three meters wide. Directly before the frame was a large stone altar that was caked in a blackish red substance, which Berard recognized as they drew closer as being fresh blood.
"This is the seal I presume?"
Ishva stared at him out of the corner of her eyes while unsheathing her dagger. "It is."
Berard approached the seal and noticed that there was writing carved into the frame itself. It glowed faintly as he approached. "These runes should be brighter, no?"
"To be sure. They were much brighter before we started the process of breaking the seal. That was our ultimate goal after all." She motioned for one of her servants to ready a sacrifice. "The seal requires several human sacrifices and a Wulfen sacrifice."
Berard pried his eyes from the glowing runes for a moment to reflect on this. It took him some time to come to the conclusion that Ishva had obviously been waiting for him to discover, as her eyes beamed brightly when he began to ask, "A Wulfen sacrifice? How? They are all gone away or sealed, right?"
"Correct as always. That little campaign I mentioned back in the passage, involving the Tribes has a great deal to do with it. You see, I led their Elder to believe that the only way to save all of humanity was to bring back the Wulfen. We did this by releasing the Walker, which you, ahem, left before completion. What were you doing anyway?"
A dark skinned man appeared at the base of the platform with an Inquisitor in tow. Berard watched the man drag the bewildered fellow up to the altar and shackle him in fetters to the base so that his underside was supported atop the altar’s bowl. He never made eye contact, but he could feel the man’s gaze burning away at his soul. "I was furthering our cause in my own way."
"Oh really?" Ishva cooed as she began to whet the sacrificial blade in her hand. She bent over to whisper something into the ear of the dark skinned man, whom quickly hurried to the base of the platform and awaited further orders. "And what exactly was that?"
Berard watched Ishva’s blade quickly disappear into the Inquisitors neck then reappear, sticky and red. He suppressed an urge to vomit as the sacrifice began to scream and quake.
"Well?" She asked as she began the quick process of cleaning her blade.
"I released the Walker’s guardian from the Abbey in Eldinvale."
The blade that Ishva had once handled with such masterful attention fell from her grasp and landed on the stone floor. The sound of it’s impact reverberating throughout the cavern. He realized that a large crowd had begun to gather at the base of the platform and everyone was deathly silent.
"He whom is cursed to forever follow in the footsteps of his tainted daughter. He who shall not suffer a life, innocent or otherwise, to live. You released him?" Ishva practically screamed as Berard twitched in horror.
"Y... Yes." He gulped and eyed the audience. "I felt like I had to. I had no choice."
Ishva knelt to recover her blade, her eyes never leaving his frightened face. "Had no choice. You’re a human being Berard. Sentient beings always have a choice."
He took a step toward Ishva, wanting to apologize with all of his heart. He had apparently done something horribly wrong, but it had felt like the right thing to do. It was unexplainable.
With blade in her hands, Ishva raised to her full height and turned a hellish gaze upon Berard. "You dare approach me in attempt at repentance?!? All of this work could be for not now that you have released Her guardian. Foolish craven! The plans we had for you! The rewards you could have reaped!" She approached him, relishing the effect her words were having on his terrified body. She watched beads of sweat form and roll down his face with every step she took. "I’m sorry to do this Berard."
Berard felt his sanity slipping. How could he have allowed himself to join the ranks of these miserable creatures. He retreated a few steps and stared from Ishva to her loyal subjects below. Each and every face seemed to be swallowed in shadows. "Not even human," he whispered, unknowingly. He collapsed to his knees and began to sob. His entire body heaved as the tears poured down his face, falling from his chin and nose and pooling on the stone below him. "I’m sorry. So very sorry. So, so sorry."
As he rocked back and forth on his knees and palms he sensed Ishva crouching before him. He looked up into her eyes and saw not wrath, nor malice as he had in the past, but only a deep and knowing sadness. She reached out with one arm and embraced him, and as the sobs became fewer and farther between she slid her mouth over his ear and whispered, "I have no doubt that you are sorry Berard. Know that I am even sorrier. I never should have brought you into our fold. It was never in you to betray your people, though you did so well to begin. I can release you if that is your wish..."
She pushed him away, holding him at arms length. He nodded and began sobbing again, whispering for her forgiveness whenever his breath would allow. She drew him in close again, allowing him to take her scent in, to calm his heart. She allowed him to dream of freedom, and the life he had before she tainted him. "Then I release you," she whispered before placing her lips upon his neck.
Berard felt the kiss and wanted nothing more than to forget everything that had happened. To go back to living the virtuous life he had once led. He remembered the statue of the Goddess that he had prayed to every day of his life with his family as a child. How he had taken the vow to protect Wulfenguard from all evils, from within and without. When he whispered for forgiveness it was not from Ishva that he sought it, but from the Goddess he had betrayed and fooled, and the people he had been sworn to protect.
Ishva released her lips from his neck and whispered again in his ear, "But forgiveness I can never give you."
He felt the dagger’s teeth bite into his belly at the same moment as Ishva’s teeth penetrated his neck, piercing the artery. He could feel the blood of his veins pouring from his body, yet still he cried for forgiveness and allowed the tears to fall freely from his eyes.
I’m sorry... So very sorry.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On September 9th 2007 suicidalangel7 Said : | |
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Oh wow. Such intensity, and then it ends. I so can't wait to read the next chapter^_^ |
