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14 Filth

14 Filth

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Jack Donovan - It’s not how you weather the storm. It’s how you laugh in the rain.

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I let go of the bars as the others stared. With a quick jab of my hand, I stabbed my arm into the brick at my side. The pungent scent of shit saturated every bit of air here, so falling into the pit of it beneath me would best be avoided.

The brick held my weight before I dug my other arm into the mortar. After Deluge acclimatized my eyes to the darkness, he said, “So now we hunt underground in feces for rabid golems? Even I feel for you this time.”

I frowned before thinking back, “If you’d rather do it, I’m more than willing to let you.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t want you to strip you of this experience. You only get to wallow in shit while fighting for your life once. Savor it.”

He snickered at his last few words before my frown deepened. I replied, “You never know. We may do this again.”

“You know, they use slaves for sewage work. If anything, you’re reliving the time you spent in bondage, though with worse circumstances. It’s almost sad.”

I shook my head before saying, “We need Jericho to be seen in the most positive light possible.”

“Explain.”

I rolled my eyes before saying, “Imagine finding the remnants while kingdoms devoted all their resources hiding them. That sounds difficult, if not downright impossible. If we gain their favor, we gain chances to find them without facing that challenge.”

Deluge replied, “Instead you face this challenge instead. You’ve chosen your battles well.”

I closed my eyes before saying, “Would you rather spend decades on our goals or years?”

Deluge’s silence answered for a few moments before I snapped, “Then don’t question my methods.”

I crawled down the circular wall, my feet and arms piercing the brick until I reached a flat set of tiles lining the river at the sewer’s center. Another flat path lined the other side, creating two walkways while the sludge gooped by at its center. All in all, the construction seemed efficient, though unpleasant.

After walking in the putrid tunnel for a few minutes, I found the scent fading as I got used to the smell. It bothered me deeply, but I crushed that childish disgust before running through the cavern, each of my steps echoing.

Before long, I found forks and intersections. I discovered the layout covered the houses of the city with a pristine accuracy, so using a mental map of the city, I sprinted through the dark tunnels.

Unlike what I imagined, life thrived here. Rats the size of watermelons ran from me as I neared them, and strange, red moss grew from cracks in the wall. Insects, crawling with hordes of legs, feasted on this moss before I saw a rat catch and devour a crawler. This place, despite being so near the spacious and open city overhead, contained a different world all its own.

There were moments my curiosity spiked. Several long legged insects rode across the putrid pool of water, walking on the thick water. They hunted for food in the waste while I leapt from side to side. Oddly enough, this life congregated near the gates of the city, exposing their need for light and fresh air. Like children annoying their mother, they vied for the sun’s affection, yet they lurched here, cast aside by the same light they lived for.

I use these descriptions as they expose a different aspect of the sewer than what you would expect. No love lived in me for the place, but morsels of pity had formed in my mind. Not for the insects mind you, but for the slaves above. They lived in a darkness much like this one, no hope nor future. They saw pieces of light as they served their masters, but only for scattered moments as they broke their backs with labor. These thoughts guided many of my actions.

I lingered in these thoughts as they distracted me from my own misery. The insects, the rats, the shit, it all repulsed me. Whenever I heard the first rumble coming from a noise that wasn’t my own, I grinned over the prospect of leaving this place.

As I pierced through the stagnant air, I neared the source of the sound before I found a group of golems surrounded by a crowd of dilapidated denizens. They lined the walkways at the edge of the sewers. Carrying torches, these robed wanderers lit the nearby tunnel. They crafted a bridge across the sewer’s center of stone pillars. Atop those pillars stood the golems.

Six in number, each taller than any man, and glowing a dark, bloody red, their brown and red stone bodies held rubies at their centers. Interlocked like a tightly wound puzzle, their gruff fingers clamped when they turned to me. One of the golems spoke like metal,

“Have you come to join us?”

I paced up, my form lightly lit by the torch’s light. They all stared at me as I rounded the curve of the tunnel towards them. After lighting my figure with a torch, claws had already formed at my fingertips, and my arms began elongating into whipping, scythe-like limbs. The low glow of their torches stretched my deformed body with nightmarish shadows. The talons I formed could cut through stone, yet they smiled. They grinned. A few even laughed.

I stepped closer like a creature crawling from an abys, but several fell to their knees in response. Other’s cried tears while others clasped their hands together. The golems interlocked their thick, gruff fingers before they bowed in unison towards me. Each member stood and stared in rapture at me. I couldn’t fathom any reason why.

Before I reached them, their mania caused concern, so I said, “Why do you laugh?”

My deep voice pleased them, so they laughed all the more before a golem walked forward. With a metallic, ringing voice, he said, “We are the Cimmerian Shade. A group devoted to following your reverence, darkened one.”

After a short moment, the gears of my mind clicked into place. This was the cult that believed in the Darkened One as a religious figure. In an instant, these madmen realized what the nobility could not - that I am the enemy of the palisade and the dark demon set on Gaia’s destruction.

I lowered my hands before saying, “You all…you’re the cult I’ve heard of?”

The golem nodded as the others panicked with delight. Their incessant joy disturbed me, but I swallowed the emotion while saying, “Why did you steal from the Donovan’s?”

The golem tilted his head before saying, “We have an insider in both the church and the Donovan family. They reported what these golems were for, so we stole them and repurposed them using the souls of your most devoted followers. “

The sinking feeling in my stomach grew. With my best Deluge impression, I murmured, “Why do you all follow me? What have I done to deserve such allegiance?”

The runes tracing the golem’s arms and chest glowed red as he said, “You fight the tyranny of the palisade. You have killed a part of her and put fear in the minds of those retched priests.”

The sinking feeling wanes before I reply, curious and wary, “So you’ve all survived their purges, and now you follow the only force fighting against them?”

The red glow of the golem grows, lighting the entire tunnel in a burgundy light as he says,

“You…You’re the demonic god born out of our hatred and malice. You embody the malicious spite we harbor. You are our harbinger. As you spoke towards your apostles and Gaia’s priests,”

The golem spread its arms and said, “Those who have fallen from the grace of your god will find genesis, just as you shall find purgatory.”

Glancing downwards, I stared at my hands before turning up towards them and saying, “I am no god. I am a mere monster who aims at a god’s throat…”

After retracting my claws, I ball my hands into fists before I said, “Who are my apostles? Who has told you such lies?”

The golem lowered its arms before saying, “When you destroyed the monster we created, you left us alive. We, the bringers of hell on earth…the misguided and distraught worshippers of Gaia…We had crafted a true demon. A true monster, nothing like you.”

My eyes snapped open as he continued, “You wear the mask of a monster. Ours was nothing if not mindless and destructive.”

A seething wrath like bile filled my chest as the golem continued, “We worked tirelessly. Our religious fervor kept us awake and focused on our goal. We were blinded by the prospect of gaining Gaia’s favor, yet when we finished our efforts, we had killed a beautiful women with a bright future.”

He placed his stone face into his hands as he said, his voice shaking, “Despite our sins, you left without killing us. You gave mercy. Even more forgiving than an angel, you destroyed the abomination we created and offered us salvation.”

As he spoke, a deep, dark rage saturated my skin. Like liquid lava, anger pulsed in my blood, and bane in my bones. Fury, fierce as fire and crushing as calamity, radiated as I glared at him.

Even though his rock body held little ability for expressing fear, he found a way for it. The hard slabs he had for legs shook, and his shoulders shivered. The crushing oppression took over the entire tunnel before I closed my eyes.

With his words stabbing through the blinding rage, Deluge thought, “Calm yourself. Killing the golems here would give you nothing. We can use them.”

I snarled in my mind, “They killed her. They killed Petra. They killed Joan’s guardian and my teacher.”

“Listen. If we execute them here, we will gain revenge and satisfaction, but other outcomes offer us even more.”

I breathed deep breaths as I thought, “What do you mean?”

“I have a plan.”

Standing there with for several minutes, I listened closely as Deluge explained an elaborate and well thought out scheme. As he spoke, my anger soothed while a sickening satisfaction took its place. After having calmed myself completely, I said,

“What is your name, apostle?”

The golem’s frame ceased shuddering as the ruby eyes glanced up with a sudden, sharp move of its head. It replied, “I-I’m David Strom.”

“Then David Strom, I have a mission for you and the other golems here, but first, answer me three questions.”

“Anything your grace.”

I pointed at the other golems as I said, “Are these the other apostles?”

“Yes, your grace.”

I nodded before saying, “You used your knowledge from the other monster you created for this, correct?”

He nodded as he said, “Yes. We wanted to use the knowledge for something good. For something useful. We want to change.”

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I nodded as I said, “Of course. I understand. You have taken a weapon from the church and given it a new purpose. I thank you for your help.”

The golem nodded his head with elation as the group of people behind him smiled. I continued my words, “Excuse my anger from before. You see, your word reminded me of why I wish for Gaia’s end. Hearing how she corrupted you all, it disgusted me.”

They nodded as the group sighed with relief behind him. The golem at the front said, “We believed you had lingering anger from before. To us, there is no greater regret in our lives.”

I nodded before I strode up to him and said, “I understand. I own many regrets as well. We share that burden.” I turned towards the others and said, “I will stage an attack on the church within the next three days. I will need your help. My apostles, you shall serve as my vanguard.”

The golems nodded before I said with a grin, “We will destroy them, starting here in Nern.”

With that said, I organized the details of the plan with their leader. The introductions from each member lasted an hour. Before leaving, I let each of them all touch the palm of my hand, setting them into a near delusional glee. With the preparations finished here, I left them in the stinking sewers before returning towards the surface.

Deluge and I needed a few other pieces lined up before the attack, so we skulked through the city before entering the central church for Nern. Soaring doorways, large, open windows, and towers peaked with the circles of twelve, the church stood white and pure and perfect. The tallest inns and wealthiest nobles lived beside the building, prying for its power.

By the time I reached it, the scent of the sewage left me, with deluge’s assistance of course. I entered through its doorway, the light of the church giving my black hydra skin a glorious sheen. They would never have guessed I scrounged beneath their very feet only a few minutes prior.

I stood in the marble building with a throng of silenced worshippers staring. As I strode up between the rows of pews, the bishop of the church ceased his prayer before he glanced towards me, his face displaying an open surprise.

Deluge laughed in my mind as I strode past a few scattered people towards the head bishop. I lunged onto my knee, gazing up towards him as I said, “Head bishop, I am Jericho the Disciple. I ask for your presence in private.”

The bishop looked me over, his keen and scrutinizing eyes falling on the crystallized dragon’s blood hanging from my neck. After he paused for more time than necessary, he replied in a slow and steady tone,

“Alright then. I will allow it.” He glanced at the congregation before saying, “You all, pray as I leave. We will continue the prayer after Jericho and I have spoken with one another.”

Before moving, he continued, “I had better see marks on the knees of your robes when I come back.”

The commanding nature of his voice and the surety of his motions gave him an aura like royalty. The bishop paced away from the podium while pointing at a doorway. We reached into a side corridor, hallways hiding behind dozens of doorways. After we reached three doors down, we entered into an office lined with papers and bookshelves.

The smell of old, yellowed paper wafted in the small room. Indentations in the chairs, marks on the desk, even a rusty envelope opener sat still, overused and overwhelmed by time. A small glassed window let light in, and several chairs laid around the room, unused until now. Dozens of figures danced across the pages. He seemed more like an accountant than a priest.

We entered, and he grabbed a feather and inkwell before writing a few marks on a peice of parchment. The bishop said, his voice haughty and disdained,

“So what is it, Jericho the great dragon slayer?”

Ignoring the contempt in his voice, I said, “I have heeded the call for Gaia, and it has brought me here. I wish to warn you against a pressing threat.”

The man raised an eyebrow while frowning as he said, “How would you know anything about threats here?”

I stared at him, utter faith and resolve emitting from my straight forward eyes and honest tone, “Just as with the dragon, I have been told by Gaia.”

The bishop rolled his eyes before saying, “Now I may be a priest, but unlike most the others, I have brain as well. I believe in a man who tells me he wants something, not a man who comes offering his services for nothing.”

I grinned before I said, “It’s more of a question of what you want.” I pressed a finger onto the calculations on his desk as I said, “These numbers and the way they're organized, they remind me of numbers I’ve seen lining the desk of nobles.”

The bishop squinted his eyes as he hissed, “What’re you getting at?”

I opened a palm towards my side and said, “These are bribes.”

He blinked before saying, “How dare you accuse the church. What could the church even give besides faith?”

I pointed at a number on the table before saying, “The church owns quite a bit of leverage with the opinions of the people. They decide much of the morals and beliefs of a city, so having those beliefs sway towards the cause of a merchant or perhaps valuing a certain commodity, well, that would be more than just helpful. That’s worth paying for.”

The bishop pursed his lips as he said, “So what?”

I said, “So I’m aiming for that same type of benefit, though with a different kind of payment then gold.”

The bishop snapped, “They told me about you. You’re a nobody, a no one from nowhere. You aren’t swimming in gold. You’ aren’t nobility. What could you possibly offer me?”

A malicious grin spread on my face as I said, “Protection. I’ve killed a dragon with my bare hands, and I’ve defeated your knight of Nern as well. If anything happens here, I shall come and guard you.”

The man snickered before replying, “No one would attack the church.”

I nod with a hand on my chin as I said, “Ah, you’re right. You’re right.” After a short pause, I raised my hand while saying, “Ahh, but didn’t the Donovan family lose a set of golems here recently?”

His face paled as the memory splashed his face like cold water. The golems presented a threat the city had no hope of containing. Security as powerful as a dragon slayer was an irresistible offer. With that in mind, he said, “Hmmmm. You may be right, just maybe…Let’s say you were right and I wanted your protection. What do you want in return?”

I grinned before saying, “I want fame and recognition.”

The bishop blinked for a moment before saying, “Fame? That’s all?”

I nodded before spreading my arms and saying, “That’s all. I want you to spread my name through these halls as the next hero. If you do so, I shall help you in your time of need. Otherwise, you may face the golems with the city’s security as assistance. I doubt they’d handle a group of golems with any efficiency.”

He stared, both dumbfounded and unresponsive before he busted into laughter. After a set of seconds passed, he replied, “So in other words, you’ll protect the church for free, but you want my trust. Now you’re acting like I’m paying some price.”

His eyes turned to daggers as he said, “You may be a saint after all.”

I shrugged before saying, “You’re messages will assist my goals. It would help me tremendously.”

With a glint of glee in his eye, the bishop replied, “You have my word on it, Jericho the disciple. Is that your true name?”

I nodded before he said, “May your parents rest in peace then. They would no doubt be proud of you.”

His response may seem strange, but in Bastion, there’s a custom for relinquishing your last name if you become an orphan. The custom is a burden for the parentless, however. Anyone who hears your name knows your status at an instant. Whenever I spoke of Sophia and Joan’s names without saying their last names, those listening had assumed they were orphans as well.

That knowledge encouraged the many disrespectful attitudes towards us at times, but the custom served as a useful tool for preventing any questions about our past. I used that fact as an advantage. Why ask the lineage of an orphan after all?

The Bishop’s words struck closer to home than I expected, so I placed a palm on my chest and barely bowed before saying, “Then may you be safe until this looming threat passes…”

The bishop replied, “My name is Favre Montaine.”

I lifted myself as I said, “Then until we meet again Favre.”

“”You as well, Jericho.”

He and I stepped out from his study before re-entering the nave with many eyes upon us. As I stepped towards the exit, Favre said, “Jericho has assured this chapel of his protection. He shall vanquish anything vile enough to attack this place of worship. Praise be Jericho the Disciple.”

The crowd roars with applause before I smiled towards Favre and he winked towards me. As I turned, I cringed at his utter lack of subtlety, but he kept his promise. He did so while trapping me into keeping my own, but I couldn’t hate him for his methods. The simple trick had been effective, and I would have done the same.

After pacing from the church, I regrouped with the others outside the town. Razor dug out a cavern five miles from the city using her giant claws, so they relaxed in relative comfort when I arrived.

The thick, primal scent of earth and soft straw underfoot reminded me of my days as a slave. I worked for a man named Rahuul for several months after my parents died to thunder. It gave me time to think and sort things out after the tragedy. I discovered a fire in my hands and iron in my soul.

Nostalgia flowed through me as I reached the bottom of the crevice. Aether etched a mural on a slab of stone on the back wall while Joan and Sophia studied a few diagrams detailing Drake’s gemchains. Razor swam through the air, her body maneuvering as though it were underwater. Aether and Razor’s glow offered more than enough lighting for the tasks at hand, so when I arrived, Aether turned towards me and said,

“Hello Jack. It it good to see you again. Did you find the golems?”

I nodded before saying, “I did. They are a part of the cult that worships the Darkened One. They stole the golems from the Donovans then put their souls inside them.”

Sophia turned and said, “Are you serious? They’re that capable?”

I balanced my hands before saying, “Somewhat. Based on my talk with them, it seems like they were lucky, not skilled. Besides, they are not fighters. They are scientists.”

I turned and said, “Oddly enough, the golem’s runes were red, unlike other thralls. Deluge studied the diagrams as I spoke. I’ll draw them for you. They may help with your studies.”

Sophia lifted a fist into the air before pulling it down as she said, “Hell yeah. Ever since coming to Mareovosa, Alistair and I tried getting our hands on one. We could never find one. They’re almost always used for illegal stuff. He was always too much of a goody two shoes to dabble with them.”

Razor pushed me towards a pen and piece of paper from the stack of supplies at Joan’s side. I sighed before taking the paper and leaning it onto one of Aether’s flat faces. Trying to change the subject, I said, “You know, Sophia, it’s surprised me how focused you stay on your research despite our travels. It’s like you’ve done this before.”

She turned back towards her diagrams as she said, “Well, I actually have. Whenever my parents sent me off towards a boarding school, Alistair took me in after a few months of being there. He wasn’t the richest man himself, but he tried his best to keep us comfortable.”

She sighed before saying, “Those were happy times. He had a habit of cutting himself anytime he cooked, so he gave me the job of head slicer. He put his sweat blood and tears into those meals, and I mean literally. He would cut himself and tear up like a total baby. He was a real wimp.”

Her voice caught in her throat as her breathing grew ragged. Joan hugged her before I stopped my sketching and stared down. After a pause, I said, “I’m sorry. It was my mistake to ask.”

Sophia replied, “No, no. I just got caught up in the past. I need to move on, but it just…it hurts.”

A clumsy silence took over the room, and after a few minutes, I said, “It’s like something’s missing. Like a hollowed out hole in your chest. That emptiness is pain.”

I turned towards Sophia as I said, “I don’t know if it will hurt any less over time Sophia, but know this. That void will fill up. You may not end up the same, but you won’t always be empty. You won’t always be sad, but while it’s still there, it’s ok to cry. It’s ok to hurt.”

Joan pet Sophia’s hair as she quietly cried. Razor stared, wondering what we were doing. After Sophia calmed down, Razor asked, “Excuse my rudeness, but what was that?”

Joan turned up towards her and said, “Well, uh...Think of it like this. When you have sadness, it’s like, err, carrying something really heavy. When you tell others, it makes it lighter. It uh, I don't know... Makes it easier to move on?”

Razor taps the side of her faceless cheek before saying, “Whenever Kara died, I felt a myriad of emotions. Regret and guilt and self-loathing grated my surface, but your emotions are deeper and darker, like those of Kara before he left our colony.”

I frowned as I said, “It’s a difference in culture’s I believe.”

Razor floated towards me and said, “Our culture involves working for the queen. I am expected to lead the colony into greatness, and to spread our species during my long life. That is not always so, however.”

Razor landed between the colossal, jutting crags that create Aether’s shoulders. She continued, “It’s a strange feeling when I serve someone else’s cause. I like the lack of responsibility.”

She turned her head towards me, the long locks of smooth blue swaying behind her head like hair. She said, “You seem like a better leader anyway. I hated decisions. You embrace them.”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “What do you mean?”

She glanced back towards the ceiling before she said, “You told us about how you now have cult following you, right?”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “Yes, I did.”

She turned back towards me while letting an arm hang down Aether’s back as she said, “You didn’t seem nervous when you told us about it. If anything, you sounded excited, almost hungry.”

I frowned before I growled, “The golems are the priests who experimented on Petra. The only hunger I have is for their agony.”

Joan turned towards me, her eyes alert as she said, “They are the same?”

I shrugged before replying, “It makes sense. They would be the only people with the knowledge for putting their souls into golems.”

After a short pause, Joan replied, “So, how are we going to deal with them?”

“We are going to kill them all.”

Joan blinked at my response before she said, “D-don’t you think that’s too much?”

I sighed before saying, “You didn’t see what they did to Petra. There was nothing left of her, not even her soul came out unscathed. She was horror incarnate.”

Joan bit her lip before she gazed at the floor, gloomy and distraught. After tapping her legs with her hands, she glanced back towards me with a sharp glance. She said, “Well, why didn’t you kill them then?”

I smiled, showing the whites of my sharpened teeth. I said, “Because there are things worse than death.”