Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 50 - A river breaking a dam
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 21:08:09 +0000 UTCThe void gave out into a well-appointed living room that might be found in any middle-class home on Earth: settees, a big TV on the wall, bookshelves, everything you might expect in a typical home. I stumbled forward as the resistance of the barrier finally gave way and spat me out into Death’s domain.
“Ah, Ray. I’ve been expecting you, but then again, I expect everyone sooner or later.” The man sat in an armchair at the end of a mahogany coffee table, sipping from a porcelain teacup.
“Hadesti?” I asked, moving very slowly towards him. I reached for my sword only to find it was missing, as well as my knife and impervious tunic. I wore jeans and a t-shirt like I used to when I wasn’t working.
“The very same. You can call me Death if you prefer.” He tipped his glass at me. He had short, neatly-cropped black hair and dark eyes. His eyes completely lacked sclera, appearing as midnight orbs.
I threw myself at him, right fist cocked back, and at the same time I reached for my magic. It wasn’t there. As I sailed through the air, he smiled and winked at me as a force took hold of my body and gently sat me down on the sofa, locking me in place.
“Tea?” He reached for the pot in front of him and poured another cup that he held out for me to take. I found I could move again and took the offered drink, sniffing it cautiously.
“Now, Raymond, if I wanted you dead, you already would be. I do like to play little games with mortals, though, but that would be too cliche, don’t you think?” His voice was deep and smooth.
“So not chess then? I would have argued for Yahtzee anyway if it was going to be games,” I replied. He laughed, the booming noise making the pictures on the walls shake.
“Hah! No. Not chess or games of chance. I am often portrayed as having other functions in human cultures. So I thought we might make this interesting.” Death reached out and picked up the remote for the TV. He clicked a button, and the device came to life. “I wonder what’s on the telly box?” he said with a sly chuckle. My head craned round, the teacup out of reach of my lips. I couldn’t look away from the screen.
An image of me appeared. I was arguing with the tribal and legion leadership. I couldn’t make out the words, but that there was a profound disagreement between me and the chiefs and kings of the nomads was clear. Eventually, I threw up my hands and stormed away, accompanied by Fay and the Fangs. It cut to Kril joining us later on, and an argument with the Fangs.
“Mond, we cannot retreat now! The other tribes won’t stop, and without you, without the Mondyn and the legions, they’ll be slaughtered!” Kril yelled at the simulacrum of me on the TV. I could see myself looking down at my son in Fay’s arms, and I noticed that she was pregnant again.
“Is this meant to be the future or something?” I asked Hadesti sharply. I could move again and took a careful sip of tea as I glanced at Death.
“A possible, perhaps even probable future.” Death replied as my head was forced back to face the screen. I got my way in the end. My tribe withdrew to Riverwheel. The nomads gradually became more civilised, and with the legions constantly on the march in the south to secure the steppe, we lived a long life of peace.
I saw the naming ceremony for my first son, whom we called Aresmond, and watched eight more children grow up to become powerful tribal leaders. Over the first few years, stragglers from the other tribes filtered in. Without us and the legion, the other nomads were reduced to raiding parties, a mere nuisance to Urkash, and gradually hunted down by the undead and Mortimer's regular forces.
The Sykareskyn became a tame people, no longer wild, full of vigour and danger. New trade routes were established to the west and east, and long caravans of wagons carried goods and magical trinkets where once they would have carried warriors on raids. I watched myself grow old, surrounded by my family and friends. We burned Kril when he died, and I performed the simple rites of the funeral the same way he had for Gedrik all those months before.
After many decades, I sickened and died as well. A mighty funeral pyre was built, nearly ten metres tall. My body was laid on it, and Aresmond used Summon Fire to set it alight. Fay wept, comforted by our children.
The scene panned back to reveal a vast and successful tribe of skilled traders and artisans, secure from enemies and at peace with those who meant them no harm. Riverwheel had grown to become one of the premier cities in the world, revered for its libraries and craftwork.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? You could truly be a force for good in this world,” Death said with a faux-sniff. “Imagine how much better life would be for so many people if you walked away from your war with the other five. They would be happy to leave you in peace. Poseidon did you no favours when she sacrificed you to the Game. They all fear you, but if you were to back off, live a peaceful life, and raise your people up to be civilized rather than the savage barbarians they are today, you would be remembered as one of the finest leaders this world had ever seen.”
“Why are you showing me this?” I ground out. Seeing Fay mourn me had been brutal. Despite, or perhaps because of, the many years the video had shown us living happily together, the sight of those tears had cut me to my core.
“I come for all things, so eventually I see all things. Sometimes things that don’t come to pass, sadly. Perhaps that wasn’t to your taste? Another one might be more to your liking.” My head was forced round to stare at the screen.
This time, the camera was watching from over Urkash, set at the present time as far as I could work out. My forces were massed in a ring around the coastal city, and the legion's trebuchets were raining down enchanted blocks of stone on the amalgam guarding the walls, and occasionally inside the city. For some reason, the camera's POV was particularly interested in the rocks that missed the wall. Tiny figures ran around pulling at people buried in the collapsed houses; women wept as they cradled their partially crushed children. I fought down my rising gorge as it showed gruesome injuries inflicted on civilians, both young and old.
Then the amalgam, large enough to make Ashrot seem like a baby, dissolved into grey goop and dripped down the walls. A cry rose, a barrage of spells flew at the suddenly vulnerable defenders, and my horde rushed forward. The legion beat the nomads to it, half a dozen of the mage-Huskar got to the gates first and simply kicked them out of the way. A river of horseman and Huskars flooded in, killing their way across the city. Very few were spared, mostly the women and children. Fighting age men were slaughtered out of hand, they usually had some trinkets to throw spells, or were Soulbound themselves.
Fire and death washed over Urkash, leaving ruin behind. I flinched as my troops stormed the palace, cutting through the terrified nobles hiding within its walls. They found Mortimer’s harem, and what I presume were his children, all younger than five. Half a dozen of Calpakters tribe, recognisable by their Mohawks, murdered the babies by dashing their brains out against the floor and walls.
I did vomit this time. Death didn’t let me move my head, so I launched a stream of bile and semi-digested food across his lovely coffee table. Hah!
The puke vanished as soon as it touched the wood.
“Not so easy to watch what happens in your name, is it, Ray?” Hadesti said in a solemn voice.
“This isn’t certain either,” I forced out, even though he was still refusing to let my jaw move. The words pushed more spittle and stomach juices out to dribble down my chin.
“Oh, but this is much closer to happening than the first story. It’s a lot easier to predict this version of events. Are you sure you want to walk the second path?” My head was freed, and I turned to look at Hadesti. His black orbs were fixed on me, a faint smile lifting one corner of his mouth.
“How about you show me what Mortimer has done to make those monsters with shards of your source?” I snarled. “You think what I’ve done is bad? That what I might do is terrible? What happens if he gets to continue feeding people into his monsters?”
Hadesti shrugged and set his teacup on the table before speaking.
“Darjeeling. So much better than ched, no? To answer your question: I don’t care, Raymond. Mortals are always being foolish and cruel, but they all step into my parlour, whether noble or vile. I am inevitable. You, however, are not. After what you’ve seen, do you still wish to walk your chosen path, or will you reconsider?”
The sight of a long and happy life with Fay ran through my mind at the same time as the slaughter of Mortimer’s children. My heart felt torn in two. Should I, could I just walk away and live a long life as a normal man?
“I choose the second path. I won’t leave Mortimer alive after what he’s done to the people of Urth.” Death smiled, and his human form flowed away.
I was no longer seated on a finely upholstered settee; I was perched on a pulsating mushroom, and the living room descended into a fungal amalgamation of rot and decay.
The skin on his face melted and ran as dark robes replaced his neat suit. A learning skull glared down at me as the god floated into the air and swept towards me. He stopped a few feet away, and a cold, bony hand raised my chin and forced me to look into his black eyes.
“You have passed my trial, little mortal.” His voice was tombstones slamming together now, and I flinched at the sound of it. His other hand lifted a black orb, a mirror of his eyes, and extended the Source of Death for me to claim.
I reached out and brushed a hand against it.
It fell to the ground as Hadesti and his world disappeared. I found myself back in a rough-hewn dungeon, cold stone replacing the cloying mycelium and stench of death. I snatched up the orb and tried to store it away in a ring, but it could not be hidden away, so I clutched it in my left hand as I headed back to my friends.
“Took your time,” muttered Jandak. The rest of our party had come back together, although Mune and his golem were currently fighting a rearguard action against a pair of Soublbound who were not happy about our intrusion below the palace.
“You brought friends?” I asked Kos.
“They just keep coming, Mond. Tell me we don’t need to hold this place?” Kos snapped at me.
“No, let’s get the fuck out of here.” I waved the Source at him. “I’ve got what I came for.”
Raymond! You must see this! Glimpse sent to me, panic and delight colouring his telepathic message.
I switched to looking down from his eyes and saw the amalgam that had guarded the walls melting away into grey slime. A roar of victory went up from my troops, even reaching the bird's ears, high in the sky. The nomad horde charged forward, but the legion beat them to the gates, covered by a hail of spellfire. Mage-Huskar kicked the thick wooden planks into splinters, and my army burst into the city like a river breaking a dam.
Glimpse! Meet me where you dropped us off! I need to stop them!
