----------------------------------------
Chapter XCV : Confrontation
Premorn of Quartus, Third Day of Duskmoon
----------------------------------------
Bram led his companions deeper into the Substratum by way of the central spire, a long spiral stairwell that wound along the edges of a large vertical shaft at the heart of the military compound. It was dark and eerily quiet. Bram was used to seeing it teeming with personnel on their way to various tasks, with well-lit sconces providing ambient light from top to bottom. Now, with only Matthias’ small ball of light guiding their way, the spire looked like a bottomless well, leading ever downward toward oblivion.
The sunstone beckoned. Somehow, anima made it shine like a beacon. Not in the literal sense; but to Bram, it felt like a powerful supernatural force propelled his body forward, deeper down the darkened path. So he made haste, while his companions kept pace. Dashing down the steps, tension building, mind racing. He thought back to his journey, especially to those he lost along the way. He missed Rosa dearly, yet he hoped she was far away from Angkor. After learning what happened to Quon, he didn’t want her anywhere near Abaddon’s hellscape.
He missed Yuri, just as much. The child was so dear to him, they could have been a son or daughter. He wondered where they could have gone the day he lost them at sea. If fate should someday put them back on the same path, he hoped that day would come soon. But, first, he had an Ahriman to defeat.
Though he didn’t know where Rosa or Yuri were, though they could have been on opposite sides of the world, somehow they felt closer than ever. Perhaps anima helped him to feel their connection, because it granted him courage and strength. He needed their power, because emanating from the bowels of the Substratum was a force so evil, he felt its stain through every fiber of his being.
As he descended, explosions continued on the surface, high above him. He once thought the Substratum to be impenetrable; but as he watched the walls rattle and particles of dust and silt rain down from above, he doubted it would hold. And should he or his allies be inside the structure when it collapsed, they would be crushed under a mountain of rock. The Substratum would become a tomb so vast that not even the power of anima could escape.
At the very bottom of the stairwell was a tunnel leading to the underground hangar. The path was a thousand spans long and led to the Substratum’s other exit: a second vertical shaft used by airships to reach the surface. Should the unthinkable happen, it was the only way out.
There should have been only one tunnel. Yet, standing beside the hangar’s path was the wide open maw of a second, newly formed passage. Except, this one had a mirror-smooth surface, which must have come from an incomprehensible force, stronger than the heart of a caldera. Someone had decided to tunnel deeper than the original builders ever dared to go.
Bram shivered, knowing that Richard awaited him inside.
He led his companions into the tunnel. The only sound came from the clomping of their boots against the passage’s smooth stone. After a few hundred spans, it opened into a colossal cavern, whose ceiling was shrouded by darkness. Along the walls were translucent, crystalline veins of calcite, gypsum, olivine, and fluorite, which created a vivid, multicolored backdrop, as beautiful as it was unexpected.
As Bram entered, the light of Matthias’ orb reflected off the crystals and brightened the cavern, further exposing details in the distance. At the cavern’s rear, huddled like a beggar in tattered rags, was the bearer of the sunstone. And as Bram approached, he was horrified by what Richard Cromwell had become.
Whatever the pitiful creature was, it was no longer human. Mica buried her face in the solace of Matthias’ robes, while the old scholar’s mouth twisted into a grimace. Even Quon averted his gaze, his expression showing nothing but disgust.
Richard’s face was practically featureless. It was a slimy, dull-pink, nearly translucent bulb, wrapped with thick purple veins, squirming with fluid. Nose and ears were gone, and a toothless, jawless mouth hung like a limp orifice. The creature stared at Bram through eyeless sockets, sunken deep inside its folds of flesh. It was vile and repugnant, the pith of nightmares. Had he not been holding the sunstone, Bram would have never associated it with the former king.
Even without a functional mouth, it spoke, or rather mumbled. “You dare to face me, Traitor? The disgraceful cur now faces its master?”
Bram shook his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of pity. “My eyes have been opened. How unfortunate that yours were not. That you could have gone this long without seeing what the Ahriman was doing to you. That you could have allowed it to twist you into something so horrid.”
For a moment, the creature shrank back, as if ashamed. “I … I can’t stop. It’s the only way I can still feel … like I’m not in constant pain. It hurts, Abraham. Every part of it hurts!”
Bram had to be careful. It was easy to pity the creature, but it was still incredibly dangerous. “Richard, listen carefully. The more you call upon Abaddon’s power, the more you give it control over your body. For the pain to stop, you must relinquish the sunstone.”
Bram couldn’t tell, but it almost looked like the Richard-thing was doubled over laughing.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Did you think you could fool me? So you could claim the power for yourself?”
Bram stepped forward. He had never been more serious. “This is not a ploy. If you could only see what this demon has done to you! The power it allowed you to wield was never yours to keep! It was only a means for Abaddon to take your humanity … your soul … piece by piece. There’s not much left. You can’t keep doing this.”
The creature raised the sunstone and sent an arc of electrical current so strong it blasted a gaping hole into the nearby cavern wall. Shards of crystalline splinters blew outward, until Richard raised his other hand and caused the tiny fragments to fall harmlessly to the ground.
“You must have already forgotten my demonstration in the courtyard. How many times must I show you the sunstone’s power before you believe what I can wield at my fingertips? Do you not realize that I could annihilate you with a mere thought?”
Bram chose his words carefully. There wasn’t much of Richard’s mind left. The same voice that called out for help now threatened to destroy him. Yet he had to get closer. If he could only get within arm’s reach, he could disarm Richard of the sunstone. He needed to get him back to a vulnerable mood. He needed to remind the once-mighty monarch of what he had given up, hoping that deep down, a part of him still regretted it.
“Don’t you remember, Richard? When you ruled over Angkor as a wise and just king. You had the power to conquer other nations, but instead, you used that power to enrich your kingdom. Angkor wasn’t perfect, but it was safe. And it made the world safe.”
He took a few steps forward, closing the distance. “But that wasn’t enough, was it? You traded your kingdom for the promise of power. You abandoned your people and allowed so many of them to die. All you’ve built has fallen to ruin. All that’s left … is despair.”
The creature appeared to cower, so he pressed harder. “Whatever you think you’ve gained, it has given you nothing but the power to destroy. You didn’t want that. Did you?”
The pitiful thing appeared to deflate. Its shoulders sagged, and it drew the sunstone close to its chest. Bram felt hopeful.
“Please, Richard. I’ve always been your friend and ally. You must trust me. Let me help you to end this nightmare.”
Bram slowly approached, holding out his hands to show he wasn’t a threat.
The creature appeared to sob. “I was so close. I almost had a moonstone in my possession. Then … I could have wielded the Ahriman’s power without consequence.”
Bram recalled what he had learned about the moonstones from Rosa. She believed Yuri’s pendant might be one such artifact. He wondered just how close Richard had come to finding one.
“A moonstone? Where?”
The Richard-thing gestured with his hands all around him. “Could be anywhere. Even down here. I thought, why not come and look for myself. Couldn’t hurt. I had time.”
Bram might not have known much about the moonstones, but the idea that one lurked beneath Angkor was nonsense. Richard’s rotted mind was playing tricks on him. Even so, if these artifacts were the source of Uriel’s and the other Great Sages’ power, they were the key to destroying the Ahrimen for good.
The Richard-thing gawked at him. “You know where to find a moonstone. Don’t you?”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Bram was sure he hadn’t said anything aloud. He wondered if the thing was somehow sensing his thoughts.
He held firm. “No, I have no idea.”
“You lie!”
Richard raised the sunstone and pointed it. Bram retreated several steps.
Over his shoulder, he saw Matthias preparing a spell. He hoped it would be strong enough to defend him, if Richard was truly mad enough to attack.
“Put it down, Richard. I’m not your enemy.”
“Neither are you my friend,” it snarled. “The moonstone is the answer. Not a lying thief who wants the power all for himself!”
Bram stood his ground. The creature’s wild mood swings and inability to reason made it difficult to get close. But Bram still believed he had a chance. If only he could influence the creature back to a depressive state.
“There are no moonstones down here, don’t you see? You’ve fled to the bottommost levels of your bunker, while your city is being bombarded up above. Can’t you hear the explosions?”
Bram went silent, hoping the creature could at least detect the constant rattling. Despite their distance underground, it was still easy to see the effects.
The Richard-thing looked all around, as if finally noticing the grains of dust descending from the ceiling, as well as the occasional vibration as the blasts shook the cavern.
Bram closed in on the creature. “Abaddon has robbed you of the most basic of senses, and the sunstone has given you nothing but misery. This is your last chance for salvation. Rid yourself of the curse, now, before it’s too—”
“Never!”
Bram realized his gambit had failed. The creature was now more agitated than ever.
“I will find a moonstone. It matters not if they are within arm’s reach, or on the other side of the world! I don’t care if this city is destroyed, for I will build another. All I need … is more … power!”
Bram shielded his eyes. Richard was suddenly surrounded by a bright blue light that sent blinding beams in all directions.
“Richard, stop! Stop now, or there’s no turning back!”
But it was too late. Richard had given the last of his soul willingly. Bram felt the sacrifice the instant it was made.
The chamber shook, and a voice spoke that no mortal was ever meant to hear. A voice more terrifying than anything Bram had heard before. It sounded like rocks grinding together, except it slithered down his spine, pierced his heart, and invaded his very soul.
“FREE AT LAST. VEGENCE … IS MINE!”
Bram shielded his ears. It felt like bugs skittering along the inside of his skull. Meanwhile, the huddled mass of formless flesh that had once been Richard bubbled and warped, stretching and inflating until it grew by several orders, forming a featureless blob that towered over Bram and his companions.
“Get ready!”
Bram hoped his friends’ instincts would guide them in the upcoming battle. He drew his sword and watched for weak points. He dove, narrowly avoiding the pincers of a crab that sprouted from the blob and hurdled straight at him.
Quon vaulted out of the way, too, as something resembling the tail of a salamander swiped in his direction. At the same time, Matthias grabbed Mica and whisked her away in time to avoid the crushing jaws of a shark that spontaneously formed and then melded back into the flesh.
The amalgamation lengthened to the shape of a serpent, before coiling in the shape of a conch shell. Gills opened along its neck, then closed as the great horn of a narwhal sprouted. It was the very essence of chaos.
Unsure how to fight it—or even how to get close—Bram and his companions retreated to the rear of the cavern. Abaddon surely sensed their reluctance, as it grew a pair of pectoral fins and beat them against the floor of the cavern. The force caused large chunks of material to loosen from the ceiling and crash down.
Matthias raised his staff and diverted the debris, sending it toward the Ahriman.
While Abaddon swatted the stone with its fins, Quon circled around to the demon’s flank, dashing to avoid the crushing force of newly formed pincers. He twisted his wrist and exposed his knives.
Abaddon faced this new threat, giving Bram the opening he needed. He embraced his feeling of kinship with Quon, sharing a sense of courage and discipline. He channeled that feeling into his armor, which glowed bright white. He then dashed forward with triple the running speed, aiming his Grigori blade at the blob of flesh.
Just as he reached his target, the head of an eel formed and gnashed its razor-sharp teeth. Bram held out his hand, instinctively, creating a barrier that resisted the eel’s deadly bite.
Something about the attack startled the demon. It grew a series of crab legs beneath the blob and retreated further into the cavern. Midway up the blob, a face emerged, a nightmarish semblance of the former king made of the same veiny pink flesh. It took a deep breath and blew, sending blue smoke toward Bram and his companions.
“Don’t breathe it in!” Quon warned. “It’ll control your mind!”
Mica reached out with her hand, and the gas reversed direction. With some complex finger-work, she manipulated the blue substance out of the cavern.
Meanwhile, Matthias released his fiercest spells, targeting multiple parts of the demon’s body. He alternated between fire, lightning, and ice, as if testing for weak spots. Abaddon deflected many of the blasts with newly formed appendages, but some of them struck the soft formless blob underneath. When they hit, Bram noted the flesh shrivel and burn.
He figured that Abaddon’s body was incomplete, that it still needed time to form into something. And while the flesh was still soft, it was weak against attack. It explained why it so fiercely defended itself against Bram’s sword.
“Aim for the flesh!” he shouted to his companions. “It’s vulnerable!”
He rushed forward, only to find a horde of tentacles blocking his path.
“Over here, Ugly!” Mica taunted from the other side of the cavern.
The hulking creature turned its attention toward the priestess and howled with an ear-piercing screech. It raised a single gigantic claw, high in the air, as if intending to crush her.
“No!”
Bram couldn’t reach her in time. He reached out in vain, only to watch the claw slam down hard on her position. It struck the ground with such force that it left a crater several spans in deepth. Bram’s knees buckled, his breath taken right out of him. But when the dust cleared, he saw Mica’s image still standing, level with the cavern, hovering over the crater. It flickered a few times before disappearing.
He rejoiced, realizing she had merely used an illusion. He had only moments to act, while the creature was still distracted. Quon, Matthias, and Mica had done their parts. Now, it was his turn. He felt their strength and determination. They were his friends, his team, and he channeled his love for them into his sword as he ran. The moment it penetrated the soft blob of flesh, he felt the power of anima ignite.
His sword burned with radiant, divine energy. He plunged it fully into the flesh until it carved a path straight through. He pressed harder, drove it deeper, intent on avenging Abaddon’s victims—all the men and women who were tortured or killed to please the demon’s insatiable lust for cruelty. Everyone it forced into servitude. All those who committed acts of savagery or murder under its control.
Deep inside Abaddon’s body, he felt the souls of countless victims. And as he delved deeper, their despair changed to encouragement. They guided him forward, until his sword opened a path straight into the demon’s heart.
He emerged to find himself inside some kind of bubble, devoid of anything but a faint red hue. In the bubble’s center, suspended in midair, was the sunstone. Bram didn’t hesitate. He reached out and took it. The moment his fingers grazed its surface, he felt the demon’s wrath and knew he needed to escape.
He pleaded to the fallen. “To all the victims of Abaddon’s malice, send me your aid!”
The sunstone glowed, and he looked inside and saw more spirits than the population of an entire city. Each one of them urged him to follow their path.
The bubble opened, and a passage formed. Bram knew it wouldn’t last long, so he made his way through. Even as he ran, he felt the flesh close in, putting pressure against the passage. The demon flexed with all its power, desperate to crush him inside. He reached for the power of anima and put every drop into his armor to give him speed. The demon’s crushing force was enormous. Enough to flatten a beam of steel and turn it into ribbons. Bram saw the end of the passage, and he dove.
He made it out just in time. Abaddon shrieked, shaking the entire cavern. A series of tentacles sprouted and swiped at him. He had no time to dodge. He lost his grip on the sunstone, and it went flying.
Quon dove after it, gliding through the air like a bird of prey. In a single motion, he grasped the sunstone and threw it.
“Bram, catch!”
Bram landed and vaulted back into the air. One of the tentacles hit Quon before he landed, sending him speeding against the wall of the cavern. Mica acted quickly, turning the wall into liquid to absorb Quon’s impact.
Bram knew he needed to act. He remembered Baraqiel’s advice. Holding the sunstone in front of him, he searched for anima. He knew he needed something stronger than before. A connection with the entire planet. So he thought of every human being who had ever lived.
A thousand years ago, it was said that everyone on Gaia united against the Ahrimen, risking their lives and even their souls to defeat the demon menace. They banded together, so that mothers and fathers would have a future for their children. So that husbands and wives could be reunited. So that every man and woman had a chance for a world of peace.
He was nearly blown backward by the force, as his entirely body full of colorless manna was beamed directly into the sunstone. A shockwave blew out, knocking everyone else off their feet. Bram sank to his knees and steadied himself, keeping the sunstone pointed at his target. Dazzling lights flickered. High-pitched sounds screeched. The cavern became a cacophony of sensory chaos. The walls buckled, and boulders tumbled.
Abaddon backed against the far wall and drove its claws into the rock. Yet even as it struggled, an unseen force pulled it toward the sunstone. It planted its crab-like legs into the ground, using all its strength to fight the increasingly powerful force. A strobe of lights danced, and sounds pulsed like a beating heart. Bram was unable to see or hear over the force of nature he had unleashed. He screamed as the magic tore through his body.
The Ahriman gave one final effort, shrieking in fury, until its grip failed. The force of the sunstone exceeded even its immortal powers. The hideous blob of flesh flew through the air, its appendages flailing in a vain attempt to escape its fate. The hulking creature hurdled straight toward the Knight, bellowing words of fury and frustration so formidable they bent the very walls of the cavern.
Bram thought he’d be crushed by the Ahriman’s might, but instead it shrank as it approached. Once the size of a building, it became the size of a horse; in a split second, the size of a fly, until it disappeared into the sunstone, leaving not a trace behind. As soon as it entered, the ancient artifact gave a final pulse of magical energy before dimming.
Bram caught his breath. The cavern was quiet, but his heart thumped against his armor. The sunstone, now in its dormant state, could have been nothing more than a piece of quartz.
He blinked, hoping his companions had survived the magical onslaught. He was delighted to find them huddled inside a protective barrier, jointly summoned by Mica and Matthias. They looked around, cautiously, as if skeptical that they were safe.
Bram approached, smiling. “We did it. Abaddon is back inside the sunstone. It’s finally over.”
Though he hardly had a chance to celebrate. The room shook, and a part of the ceiling crashed onto the base of the cavern, narrowly missing Bram and his companions. Mica and Matthias once again sprang to action, diverting the shards of minerals before they could do any damage.
There wasn’t any time. “The Substratum is collapsing. Run!”
“Ya don’t need t’ tell me twice,” Matthias screamed as he bolted for the exit.
The four heroes dashed out of the cavern. Bram hoped they could reach the hangar in time.