Treason by the Styx

Marcus Mason stole my sword from scabbard,
And shattered the spear that was hurled towards me
Eight neko princes, eight times are bastards
For plotting against us in treachery!

Eight names etched upon the throne of Hades
For they had claimed infernal rank themselves
And not a mountain of oaths and treaties
Could satiate these Eight Princes of Hell

Deftly did Marcus arc the Blood Wing Sword
Sank grey steel into red fur and white bone
With magics reserved for the King alone
I invoked flames that lit the Underworld

Incinerated, the Traitorous Eight
Their ashes float beyond the River Styx
And their Darkness throbs in infinite hate
One sibling left the powerful Void picks

Now my son and I must prepare for war
for Sekhmet shall see her children avenged
And Koen? From far below I hear his roar
As the Darkness to him the full Void sends.

On the far shore

The Emperor waited with his retinue at the far bank of the Styx. His eight armored assistants held torches to stave off the endless night. Outside their radiance only black glowferns defied the darkness, their intoxicating and deadly flowers illuminated the riverbank. The silhouette of the Boatman emerged from the shadowy mists shrouding the opaque currents, drifting so slowly none could say with certainty when he came into their presence.

There was a wet hiss as the prow of the skiff slid into the muddy bank. The shivering soul curled inside the boat opened his eyes and sat up, craning his neck around the shadow pulling in his oar. The Emperor approached, pulling back his crimson cloak to pull the pouch off his swordbelt as the Boatman drew a skeletal hand from the folds of his ancient cowl.

After the muted clinking of coins in cloth, a bony hand picked up the haggard passenger by the scruff of the neck and tossed him like a waterlogged towel onto the muddy shore.

"If that's how you treat Ereba'i royalty..." growled the Emperor.

"He was difficult," whispered the shadow. "But for his lineage I would have cast him over."

"I apologize," continued the Emperor as two of his guards raised the newcomer to his feet. "But as always, the payment is generous."

"As always..." A push of an oar, and the Boatman again merged into the mists.

The Emperor pulled back his hood. But for the the gray in his temples, he looked exactly like the soul who had just regained his footing.

"Back so soon, Marcus?"

"I hadn't expected..."

"You were floating right at the edge of the Sea of Oblivion when the Boatman found you."

Jeremiah embraced his son. "Nothing can excuse what I did to you, Marcus. But we've got an eternity to rebuild..."

"That remains to be seen..." Marcus wrapped his hand around the hilt of his father's sword, and drew back...

forsaken

Xavael's wings drew in to dive towards the falling Marcus. I held the angel back.

"No! It is too dangerous! He is a thief of souls! He will draw the angel from your host and enslave it!"

The angel stared back at me in disbelief. A twinge of mortal fear passed through his eyes like a storm cloud.

Like I designed him to do...

There was no time to mourn. We bolted in opposite directions an instant before the Queen had us in her grasp.

separation

"Do you remember the bull-dancers of Minos?"

I explained my plan to Xavael, and the angel released me. We circled the monstrous wasp, wary of her six massive spiked legs and jagged mandibles as we threw the intermittent ball of fire or ray of holy light at her nigh-invulnerable carapace to distract her when there was a near-miss.

A tactical error! In weaving through the increasingly aggressive twitches of the colossal beast, we found ourselves both far too close her stinger! And sensing the blunder, her abdomen rose towards us at a blurring speed!

"NOW!"

Half a wing's breath for each of us to sidestep her poison-drenched harpoon, flanking it on each side. I grabbed Vortex by his shoulder and his knee, and Xavael did the same.

"PULL!"

Yes. We ripped my son in half...and seven red neko spread their red demon-wings and scattered in all directions.

I pointed them out for Xavael as we broke away from the range of the Queen's venom.

"They were a one-birth litter. Sekhmet insisted I pay support for nine kittens, but Hades decreed payment only for the one birth.
There's Runihwa...Akil...Bomani...Gahiji..."

"They are daughters too?"

"Yes! Mosi, Aziza, Layla and Pila."

"And the one plummeting downwards without wings?"

I peered down. "Why isn't Koen..?"

I slapped my horns out of shock at my own stupidity.

"MARCUS!"

the Founder returns

I sat up and watched quietly as the crimson light erupting from my unconscious son's eyes and mouth coalesced into the translucent spirit of might floating above him. I knew the form all too well. The burning eyes and chalk-white skin striated with ancient black battle-scars. The distinctive facial markings of an Ereb'ai prince, copied by Japanese actors centuries ago in their plays. The arc of defiant horns. And of course the majestic red expanses of skin that stretched from his broad shoulders across batlike wings. The very being that wrapped his hand around my throat and, through those burning eyes, held up a mirror to my corrupted soul.

I swallowed, trying to gether the strength to address him. "Darien...he lives?"

"Yes," rumbled the demon, "he shall recover...and I am freed from his toxic prison."

I turned my gaze to the grassy soil of the marsh, which I expected would soon be a barren circle from my instant cremation.

"At least I did something right."

"Jeremiah," he said calmly. "Gaze upon me." Either he was getting larger or he was drifting towards me. "Yes, in your chemical madness you tried to conquer the world. As a vengeful ghost, you and the other Fallen of your kin tried again and failed. Twice resulting in the death of your own grandson."

"WE REMEMBER THAT!", shouted Vortex from the portal above the altar.

I nodded slowly. "That is true, Founder."

"However, you did save this world from the Fires of Apollo." He was referring the nuclear weapon I tried to disarm with Professor Antfarm. "In addition, you repaired this son after your other son stole his body."

"I remember that, too!", laughed the Vortex. I caught a telltale maniacal giggle in his voice.

"Marcus?" I turned to stare at the composite being leering at me from the depths of Hell. "What have you done?"

"Koen abandoned the Vortex collective, and Marcus took his place," Bloodwing explained with a note of disgust, "and in so doing defeated the Hydra. He...they...have earned the throne."

"Indeed we have, Father! And since you're not challenging our will to power I'm willing to invite you to..." Vortex paused as a buzzing drone grew in intensity from from his side of the portal. "Wait Poppa Legba what do you mean 'look behind me'? GYAAAAH!!" The portal instantly snapped shut in a flash of light and a lingering sound that pierced the eardrums as it slid beyond human range.

Bloodwing grimaced as he held his ears, continuing to suffer lightly from the broken portal. "What was that, Poppa Legba? A giant wasp, you say?"

I was startled again by the screech and squawk of the portable radio-wave receiver that lit up from where it lay on Darien's knapsack, placed just outside the summoning circle. Through the interference I could easily discern Qlippothic's slightly metallic voice, clear and measured even in her obvious distress.

"Mayday-mayday, invasion fleet intercepted at following coordinates..."

regeneration

As best as I can remember...

One minute I am disarming a nuclear device. Then Mr. Antfarm's magic rucksack bites off my hand. Death came so fast I wondered how I survived the atomic fire. That is when I realized I did not. The sack, however, did. And part of my soul was still in there. This is what has survived. This is why I am here.

Where am I?

Nowhere. Where do you want to go now?"

Home. Just home...

I was swatted across time and space like shuttlecock in a game of cosmic badminton. A felt a moment of comfort on the carpet of my room in Miss Burton's barn. How long was I going to live like this? Another second or two? She burst in.

She thought Antfarm was me. She was the landlady. She declared it his home, not mine. The spell backfired.

Your previous home was New Erebus.

But it's gone!

Old Erebus, then!

The very damn center of what used to be the Empire. The Throne of Hades, shredded as it was. I grabbed the tail to keep from getting sat on. Marcus and the Vortex shoved me into a lead box. When it reopened I leaped and grabbed the first thing I could...

I couldn't let go. The rush of reanimation serum, a thousand times worse than when it warped my mind. Pain screaming through every nerve as stretched and knit around bone and organ and muscle and skin.

My body was complete...almost. My hair was a bit shorter. My nails as well. That means I didn't overdose at least. I look down at the body...a splitting image of myself.

"Darien? DARIEN! You had enough reanimation fluid in you to regrow me from just a hand? Damn Founder, boy! I was never crazy enough to...Darien?"

I heard the Vortex's voice from a glowing portal behind me.

"Ha! You killed him after all!"

I knelt over him, compressing his chest. My shouts of DAMMIT BOY LIVE drowning out that cat-demon's taunts. All my work seemed to do was drive him deeper into the swamp mud. Without warning he let out a sharp gasp, drawing in the stifling damp air.

"That's it, boy. Breathe. Just breathe."

His eyes opened, glowing so angry of crimson in the darkness I had to look away. I knew that glow. It was the last thing I saw in New Erebus. I fell back, too weak to fight. I collapsed in the mud, waiting for Bloodwing to smear blood over the last line of the tragedy of my life.

Esau: Shallow Victory

I was willing to believe that Marcus was defeated, but for the fact that Sword of the Blood Wing Knight vanished along with his remains during the distraction is cause for alarm. What is most disturbing is that the exact nature of the sword's enchantments have been lost to history. Ash tells me that all records of the Blood Wing Knight (obviously a previous recipient of the Curse)were destroyed by the Founder himself. We do still possess the armor. Straight off we can tell it was not forged from metals native to this plane.

With most of the Mason family at hand to assist, we have transferred Darien's brain into what was left of his body, with some additional surplus. Regretfully, his mind has failed to adapt. He is convinced his delusions are real, and any who disbelieve them are in fact delusions themselves.

I am not surprised that he refuses to believe I am his father. By the time I decanted him and his brother, most of the man I was had drowned in that insidious compound. That realization does not lessen the anguish in any manner.

In this state he is still a danger to himself and others. We have no choice but to isolate him until he recovers. We have telegraphed Mr. Fourway. Tamrannoch Sanitorium will have a new Resident.

Your voice is like Jacob, but your hands are like Esau!

These are the words I shouted from the outside the property line of Mason Labs after the stroke of midnight. A few minutes later the violet lattice of death rays around the aperture of the entrance blinked out, and a small black robot with glowing yellow discs for eyes rolled slowly on treads down the stairs as the field rewove behind it. It clumsily levelled itself after descending the last stair, and stopped just short of the curb. It greeted me with the sharp squeal of feedback from a voice amplifier.

"Ah, I see," Crackled Darien's voice from a transmitter within the robot. "You're Miss Burton's farmhand. I thought Steelhead eliminated the position of Town Drunk. I'm rather busy at the moment. Go away before I summon the Sheriff."

"I know who you are and what you are! Come out and face me!"

"Yes, I'm a Spark and a Mage who commits multiple crimes against nature before tea break. Come back when you have the mob with torches and pitchforks."

"I'd prefer to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. Son."

"Oh! He's read the Chronicles! So you're not rabble after all! I heard you were a Spark, yes? So you're a blacksmith with a minor talent. You got lucky and survived an attack by a vat-grown ninja and now you have the delusion you're Jeremiah Mason? Perhaps you have shell shock from your battle. Since I am a doctor I'll take pity on you. I'll even pay for your airship ride to Tam-San."

The robot shot a ball of white fibers at me that expanded into sphere of gossamer threads, large enough to engulf me. But I drew my sabre and sliced through it with a flash of energy, and the fibers unraveled and dispersed in the wind blowing off the bay. I charged at the robot, and again my sword radiated with power as I cleaved the automaton down the middle in a shower of sparks.

"MARCUS! What have you done with Darien?" I shouted, my voice echoing across Port Harbor. The dogs in the property across the street ran terrified back to their kennels. I screamed in Ereb'ai, "FACE ME!" and stepped onto the dying grass of the property. It was a challenge that by tradition could not be ignored. I could make out the shadow of his wings from behind the violet light before it faded.

"You may be who you say you are, in a sense", I heard succinctly. "Jeremiah may very well have left a clone behind to carry out his revenge. But I would not mistake you for him. Mulling around as a laborer, then issuing a direct challenge with an energy sword? You must be a defective copy like the Chiss you fought. Perhaps you forgot who you were meant to be until the battle. No matter. I'll return you to your maker, shortly."

I levelled the glowing blade towards him as he descended. His face was Darien's but the scowl, like his wings, belonged to Marcus. He carried one of the family's relics with him. The sword of the Blood Wing Knight. He readied his weapon.

"You will not claim my brother! You will not claim me!" His sword erupted in a spiral of flames.
"I will send you back to Oblivion where you belong!"

He spread his wings and lunged at me from the top of the aperture like a bird of prey. I deflected his ancient blade with my sabre. The burst of energy from my blade countered his demonic strength, hurling him backwards to slam against the stark metal wall of the Labs itself.

I approached on guard, reluctant to destroy what at least partially was still Darien. "Marcus...I am no longer the monster I was. This body is free of that cursed concoction that makes a mockery of Life and Death. Were I a sane man I never would have ordered my servant to..."

"KILL ME?!?" He roared as he stretched out his hand. Energies coalesced into a glowing knot of hissing snakes that darted towards me. I folded space around me and vanished as the missiles passed through where I had stood and faded into nothing. "You raised me to be your perfect heir, then disposed of me when I became too much for you to handle!" His eyes projected rays of sickly green light that bled into otherspace, illuminating me as a translucent ghost as I charged towards him out of phase.

He shot upwards just as I phased back into view with my weapon slicing an arc through where he should have been. I looked up towards the cloudless night sky, following the flaming trail of his sword. He was preparing to cast wide effect spell, but before he uttered the last syllable his left wing snapped like a twig. It rolled back and forth like an Autumn leaf as it slowly descended, unlike Marcus, who tumbled helplessly downwards. His sword fell out of its curtain of flames as it spun earthward.

I winced when I heard his bones break the moment he hit the ground. I edged closer to see him trembling as his other wing fell off. He stared up at me through the pain in silent confusion.

"I brought marion back from the underworld with me," I told him as I sheathed my sword. "She convinced your new doll to help us get the real Darien back. She followed my instructions perfectly."

He raised his arm to conjure. He groaned as his flesh pulsed with the green glow of the reanimation serum and crumbled off his frame. "She recalibrated your disintegration field to project a deanimation field as you crossed the portal. All that serum coursing through your veins is now inert. "You've destroyed your lifecode! That patchwork of human and demon DNA is falling apart! Now we'll see what's left of you that's..."

I stopped when I realized his form had dissolved into ashes and bleached bone.

...real?"

TO BE CONTINUED