Jasper broke into a run, stumbling through the frozen sands. A blast of power knocked him off his feet, only for a tendril to swoop him up and set him down safely, and he continued his run without stopping, trusting in Kas̆dael to keep him safe.

She struck twice more, but each time Kas̆dael blocked the blow, and as the frozen sand gave way to the ruined pave stones of the other realm, he was able to pick up the pace and escape their conflict. Clouds of dust rose around him as he skidded to a halt before the small, broken basin and stared down into the dismal city once again.

The endless, dreary homes. The shuffling inhabitants. The watching spirits. Tis not my realm. Dim memories of studying the Epic of Gilgamesh in college survey classes struggled to the surface, and the pieces clicked into place. “Is this the netherworld?”

It was hard to believe. Sure, others had hinted from time to time that magic had existed in some nature back in his world, but he’d imagined it as little more than the occasional talented individual who was capable of, perhaps, hurling something like a fireball, not the bloody realm of the dead. But as he watched the inhabitants of the dreary city mill around the streets, their movements slow and jerky, the doubts ebbed away. “So it’s not a metaphor at all. I actually need to feed the dead.”

Retrieving the glaive from his side, Jasper held his arm above the font and sliced down. Blood gushed from his wrist, wetting the bottom of the basin. A small amount accumulated, but nearly as much spilled out of the ruined crack as remained. It’s not enough. He sliced the other wrist, wobbling with dizziness as the blood poured out far too fast. He was stronger than a mere mortal now but there was a limit to how much blood he could lose. Please let this work.

“Anaddin dāmī lerṣēti kī aklam. Līkulū mutū u lūli kī darrû ākilu bārbara,” he screamed into the void. Steam rose from the basin’s surface as the blood turned black and began to boil.

“Anaddin dāmī lerṣēti kī aklam. Līkulū mutū u lūli kī darrû ākilu bārbara.” He screamed again, and an overwhelming presence filled his mind.

FEED US.

His limbs moved under a power not his own as he cast the boiling blood into the depths below. The wounds on his wrist healed as the presence released him and he fell on his knees before the city. His heart beat so loud it echoed in his ears as he stared into the endless expanse.

There was only silence.

Silence.

And then, the sound of thunder.

A single cloud formed on the dark expanse above the city. It was small at first, barely more than a speck of fluff. But fog and mist spewed forth from it, rapidly growing until it covered all could see. The roar of thunder echoed once more, but no lightning arced down, and then the heavens opened. Rain poured down on the city, not of water, but of blood.

The hordes of residents shambling down the streets turned their faces to the heavens, drinking in the sustenance. More surged out of the crumbling abodes, fighting and clawing to reach the offered sacrifice, and the city exploded into a cacophony. Howls and screams drowned out the patter of the rain, shattering the silence of the void.

Jasper’s hands spasmed as a current of power flooded into him. Like a flood it overwhelmed him, driving him to the ground, where he writhed in agony. His lips grew parched, his limbs quailed, and his body burned with hot as an endless surge of something - not quite essence, but close in nature - poured into him. When darkness began to blur his vision, he frantically fumbled through his bag for a potion, only to find it empty.

Then a husky voice echoed in his mind. Sorry Jasper, but I’m going to have to steal this from you. A sudden feeling of relief washed over him as the power that had been destroying him began to rapidly ebb away. His vision cleared as the strange essence was siphoned out, and he struggled to his feet, watching in confusion as a spiraling chain of white erupted from his chest. It rose into into the dark sky above, soaring higher and higher until it disappeared from sight. What the hell was that? The voice - which he suspected belonged to Barbartu - had claimed that she had stolen from him, but as Jasper rose to his feet, free of the agony that had consumed him mere moments before, he found it hard to be too upset with her.

Instead of pain, he felt good. Amazing actually. Jasper bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as so much energy coursed through his body that he felt like he was the goddamned energizer bunny. He held his arms in front of him as he bounced, flexing taut new muscles he’d never seen before. But his brief moment of ecstasy was disturbed as a scream of pain tore through the heavens. Jerking his head upward, Jasper sobered up as the reality of the situation sunk back in.

The battle between Yas̆gah and Kas̆dael still raged. Both looked worse for the wear, with their clothes torn and blood flowing freely from multiple wounds. At first glance it even seemed as if Kas̆dael was winning; where Yas̆gah’s right arm should be was now occupied by nothing but empty space. Yet as Jasper watched their exchange of blows, he began to grow concerned.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Despite her missing limb, Yas̆gah struck like lightning. Again and again, she hammered at the goddess’ defenses, an endless hail of blows that Kas̆dael was increasingly slow to block. The black vines still surged around her, blocking, deflecting, grabbing at Yas̆gah, but they fell like wheat before the dagger’s wild thrusts.

He watched in horror, feeling helpless, as Yas̆gah sliced her blade deep into Kas̆dael’s thigh. The goddess fell; black vines swelled from the ground to break her fall, wrapping her tightly in a cocoon as Yas̆gah descended upon her. The demigoddess sliced through the veins like they were made of string, scattering their protection to the wind, but a few tendrils sneaked past her guard and grabbing hold of her ankles tossed her away from Kas̆dael. It gave her some space, but Jasper knew it wasn’t going to be enough. She’s killing her.

”You can save her.” The husky voice spoke again into his mind. Do as I say, and Kas̆dael will live.

Jasper hesitated. “What’s the catch? Going to try to steal my soul? Take possession of my body?”

Barbartu snorted. “No. I already got what I wanted from you."

"Then why help me," he demanded.

"I want to see Yas̆gah die just as much as you do.” Irritation seeped into her voice. “We have a score to settle.”

Jasper still wasn't sure he trusted her, but her necklace had worked and, really, what other option did he have? “Alright, what do I do?” he agreed reluctantly.

“Draw on your essence and repeat this chant: as̆assi mūtī s̆a adammi, aqerri eṭemmī s̆a arallû. Elû. Elû u ḫepû bābī s̆a erṣeti. Elû u dâku ayyabtīya, elû u dâku Mes̆ūta.

His essence responded eagerly as he began to utter the chant, but as it surged through him it was quickly followed by waves of pain that cascaded through his body. Blood pooled in his mouth as sores opened on his cheeks and tongue and Jasper spat it on the ground, wincing.

“This isn't your way of trying to kill me, is it?”

“You’re only a half-blood, so the summoning will hurt, but you will survive. Continue,” she ordered.

Gritting his teeth, Jasper fought through the pain, repeating the words as she spoke them. Elû u dâku ayyabtīya, elû u dâku Mes̆ūta. His essence gushed out with every word he spoke, spent with wild abandon, but as he spoke the last word a faint glimmer appeared in front of him, an emerald spark of flame.

The dot of light flickered in and out of existence like a lost firefly, rising and falling in the air. Six times it emerged and was extinguished, but on the seventh, the emerald spark remained. The fire spiraled rapidly outwards, shooting sparks into the black night until a glowing green door manifested before him. Its handles were barred with thick chains that rattled as something struck the door from the other side.

“Open it, quickly,” the voice commanded. But Jasper hesitated once last time. “You’re sure not some eldritch being trying to break your way into reality?”

“You know damn well who I am,” Barbartu snapped irritably. “Now stop dragging your feet or your precious goddess is going to lose, and then we'll all be screwed.” Glancing at the battle still raging, Jasper saw it was true. A dozen new wounds decorated the pale goddess’ skin and her movements seemed almost sluggish in comparison to Yas̆gah's lightning-fast strikes.

Charging forward, he yanked at the chains. The door shook beneath the blows from the other side, but the chains refused to slip free. Dragging his glaive out, he hammered at the chains blindly. The links cracked and then gave way. The doors flung open, tossing him to the side, and a mob streamed out.

The shuffling dead of the city below moved with a speed and vigor they had not possessed before. They poured out of the door unceasingly, howling and screaming as they charged toward Yas̆gah.

Uncertainty crossed her eyes as she turned to see them, but it was quickly replaced by smugness. “Is this what you’re reduced to, my lady? Relying on the weak and witless?” With a final jab at the goddess, she turned her attention to the onrushing horde. “Wait there - I will quickly return them to their graves.”

The black vines rose around Kas̆dael again, sealing her off in a cocoon, as the demigoddess pivoted toward the new threat.

With one swipe of her dagger, she robbed the nearest of its head. It dropped to the ground harmlessly, only for another head to emerge. She slashed again, retreating a step, and another limb fell to the earth replaced just as quickly as it fell. She spun and twirled as they closed in around her, a maelstrom of power and might. Hundreds fell beneath the dagger’s bite, only to be restored immediately, while more poured out of the door with every passing instant.

For the first time, fear sparked in her eyes. Slashing a circle free around her, Yas̆gah turned to run. A dozen hands grabbed hold of her. They fell to the ground still twitching, but the dead were inexorable. They piled upon her, grabbing and pulling, pinning her in place. She lashed out with her magic, with great bursts of kinetic energy that sent them flying through the air, but she found no relief. As soon as one fell, another took its place. Still, she struggled fiercely, slowly dragging herself further from the emerald door. But then her essence guttered out.

Yas̆gah thrashed and fought as they dragged her back, reclaiming in seconds the progress she had made. Dozens fell to her blade, but no wound she could inflict did any real harm, for the dead could not die again. Slowly her strength failed, her arms weakened, her body trembled. And when she could fight longer, the dead, like ants carrying their spoiled plunders back to the colony, bore her toward the emerald doors.

As they streamed past Jasper, Yas̆gah's eyes were wide and frantic, her right hand flailing up entreatingly. “Help me, Yas̆peh. Help me, and I will give you all the power you could dream of. Anything you want would be yours, even me,” she begged.

“Sorry, but I’m not really into cougars." The dead swarmed past him in a second and he watched with grim satisfaction as they bore her over the threshold. As she passed through the doors, something fell from her hands, landing on the ruined pavement. A moment later, the last of the dead crossed through the portal, and the chains he’d shattered knit themselves back together, link by link. Rising from the ground like snakes, they wound their way through the handles, sealing the door once again. A click echoed through the void as they latched into place, and then the emerald door blinked out of existence.