The Undying God (22 page)

“There is a man who badly needs help,”
she said, catching up to him. She gestured toward the alley in the
distance. “He is severely injured. I attempted to mend his wounds
but it won’t sustain him.” Nishka almost feared the guard would
belligerently send her away.

“I will see what I can do,” he calmly
responded. Pleasant surprise washed over Nishka. This soldier
seemed less menacing than others. She smiled gratefully at the
faceless guard and left.

She felt relief knowing someone would
help the man in need. There was nothing more she could do for him;
someone with the necessary skills would restore him. Hopefully, the
man would survive.

As she walked, she saw a figure out of
the corner of her eye. Nishka realized someone was following her,
and she saw a familiar Nightwalker in the distance. She smoothed
out the creases in her clothes almost as an afterthought as Arxu
approached.

“The market hours have changed
temporarily in light of the temple slaughter,” Arxu said.
“Merchants are only permitted to sell their wares between the
seventh hour of morning and the sixth hour of evening. Furthermore,
for purposes of the ongoing investigation, civilians are forbidden
from walking the streets past the ninth hour of evening.”

“What?
” Nishka
sputtered.

“The guards have increased the number
of patrols around the perimeter of the temple. No one is speaking
of the crimes for fear of arousing suspicion. I would avoid the
guards if possible.”

As she listened to him speak, she found
herself studying his face. His eyes reflected her mysteriously, a
hue of blue amber. How natural they seemed against the paleness of
his skin, no longer a disconcerting sight to her but rather
familiar and comforting. Though no emotion conveyed behind his
eyes, they captivated her imagination. For a moment, her gaze fell
to his mouth, still moving.

“…
questioning nearly
everyone who…”

She could remember when he tried to
kiss her, leaning in toward her lips. She couldn’t deny the initial
excitement she felt, but it was also shrouded in fear. In that
instant in her room, she had been thinking about Arxu’s mouth
pressed hot against hers, seizing his blue hair in a burst of
excitement, the same dyed hair that indicated a horrifying criminal
past. Wondering what he would do to her.

It seemed silly now that she wondered
what a kiss felt like. Given a second chance, she wondered if she
would have let him do it, just to see what would happen.

Arxu’s lips became still. She hadn’t
heard a word he said. He seemed to be waiting for a response.
Nishka looked away, feeling embarrassed. She looked innocently at
the streets to hide the warm blush that came over her
cheeks.

“Arxu?”

“Yes?”

“Can you feel happiness?”

“No.” She paused before asking her next
question.

“Can you feel desire—?”

“Hatred!” A particular darkling
sauntered into view. Hrioshango was practically convulsing with
rage, shaking his fists and glaring. “Hrioshango hate humans! They
barter like fools! Want to kill guards! Hrioshango has not
destroyed in so long!” Nishka glared at Hrioshango for the rude
interruption. “What? Hrioshango is angry! Arxu, unleash your
newfound anger with Hrioshango and take this city by—”

“Guards!” she yelled. Nearly seven
hinged helmets turned in their direction. Nishka had never seen
Hrioshango run so fast.

* * *

The guard glided down the dejected
street toward the alley the woman had indicated. These rundown
slums were avoided for good reason. Gods knew he didn’t want to
walk in on another grisly murder.

He halted at the sight of the figure in
the alley, a man clad in ebony armor. He reached for his sword on
instinct, but after his initial shock subsided, he allowed himself
to lower his hand. He approached the unconscious human. He could
see the trail of blood spattered around the body and he
contemplated his dire condition. Slowly, he took his sword again.
His steps echoed softly as he neared the body.

He doubted anything could be done to
save him now. He towered above the pitiful casualty and raised his
blade to end his suffering.

Margzor’s eyes snapped open. His sword
burst through the guard’s neck, incapacitating him before he could
scream. The guard lay against the wall and reached toward his
throat, but he could only feel a cascade of pain where flesh once
resided. When he opened his eyes, the man was no longer there. He
would die alone.

Chapter 22

“Why would someone want to become the
demigod of virginity?” Nishka asked. A quick smile creased her
lips. “Especially a
man?
”

“I don’t know. It’s hardly the ideal
divinity anyone would aspire to. The demigoddess of virginity
doesn’t possess extraordinary powers. Most mortals wouldn’t gain
anything from killing her. However, I have been contemplating
possible reasons why someone would murder her followers and seek to
kill her.”

“What have you concluded?”

“The murderer wants to kill her for
ideological means, and that includes murdering her followers. He
may be attempting to make a statement about the religion itself. If
this is the case, we can assume he is so strongly intent on
annihilating her that he will stop at nothing. It will be extremely
dangerous to interfere.”

“Well, that’s a good start. I can’t
think of too many reasons why a man would want to eradicate an
entire religion.”

“On a related manner, we still don’t
know what we’re exactly dealing with. Astalla suggested that he
isn’t entirely human.”

“Or he is human and something is
abnormally wrong with him.”

“Should we question the cleric?” Arxu
asked.

“Yes, that would be helpful. We could
use whatever information is available to stop this man. Let’s head
to the guardhouse.”

“No need,” Arxu said. Nishka turned an
intrigued expression on him. “I already contacted the guards and
they indicated the cleric has returned to the temple.”

“Well, aren’t we active in
investigation?” Nishka said coyly.

“Information is essential to my
survival.”

“Or maybe you care about other
people.”

“I am incapable of caring for
others.”

“You’re depressing, you know that,
right?” Nishka smiled, and she walked away.

The quiet temple resembled a mausoleum
in its desolate state. Guards had vacated the premises and returned
to their routine patrols around Gaelithea. Only a few sentries
lingered outside the temple as a precaution. Inside, the bodies had
been cleared from the sanctum, but it still bore the signs of
attack.

Only one woman occupied the shattered
temple. She knelt on the floor, holding colored shards of glass in
her hand. She felt compelled to return to her place of worship. It
felt desecrated, as though everything she loved and adored had been
ripped away. The lives of her friends would never be replaced, and
the memories she shared with them would stab her heart with sorrow.
How anyone could take them away from her was
incomprehensible.

She wanted to beg Astalla why this had
happened. She would voice all of the doubts and despair in her
breast, but she feared she would receive no reply.

“Hello?” Nishka’s voice echoed in the
colossal chamber. The religious maiden looked up at the newcomer.
She was comforted by the sight of Nishka, but she looked uneasy
around the Nightwalker.

“You don’t look like guards,” she
said.

“We aren’t,” Nishka assured her with a
smile.

“That is good; I’ve seen enough guards
to last me a lifetime.” The woman rose from the floor. “May I ask
what has brought you here?”

“We heard about the attack on the
temple... I’m concerned about this pattern.”

“Pattern?” the cleric echoed, stunned
by this revelation. Nishka had a sinking feeling she didn’t know
what she was talking about.

“You didn’t know?” The priestess stared
blankly at Nishka, the harbinger of this tragic news. Slowly, she
lowered her gaze to the floor.

“No,” she replied. “I wasn’t aware that
similar attacks had occurred across Eyegad. Where...?”

“Azia-Nocti and Sepulzer.” The
priestess set her hand on the altar in search of support. She
breathed heavily and shut her eyes.

“This is tragic, and it is worse than I
feared. This must be a concentrated effort to eradicate our
religion. Someone seeks to destroy us.” Nishka gave her a moment to
recuperate from the blow. She didn’t want to overwhelm the woman
with grief.

“Astalla reached out to my friend,
Arxu, and told him there is something abnormal about this killer...
as if he isn’t human. Can you give us any insight?” The cleric
hesitated, the memory of the murderer flooding her mind.

“I... I don’t know what else I can tell
you. I escorted several followers from the chamber when he entered.
I could hear the guards fighting him as I ran. I knew they would
die.”

“How were you able to avoid him?” asked
Nishka.

“There is a secret chamber in the
temple where I hid with several others.” Arxu approached the cleric
and she looked up at the mysterious Nightwalker.

“Did this man employ magick to carry
out the attack?”

“No, I didn’t sense anything
supernatural about the man. But I felt something horrible emanating
from him. I was disgusted and afraid...” Nishka was
intrigued.

“What was it?” she asked. The cleric
picked up another piece of glass and she jerked as its sharp edges
bit her fingers. The shard dropped from her fingers and pealed
against the marble surface.

“He... he killed them like they weren’t
even human...”

“What was it you felt around him?”
Nishka insisted. She could tell the priestess was losing focus. She
was withdrawing from reality, dangerously close to approaching an
emotional breakdown. She tried not to picture the murderer; she
tried not to imagine the carnage she witnessed when the guards
escorted her from the temple.

“Oh my goddess...” she whispered. “I...
I could feel his hatred.” She closed her eyes. “I have heard of
instances when one’s soul is so polluted with hatred... that it
invites demonic elements.”

“Demonic possession?”

“That is my fear.” She observed the
blood on her fingers again. “Hatred is a very powerful emotion. It
makes the soul weak and vulnerable to external influences. It is my
belief that he is possessed. I could see his aura. It was so dark
and disturbing... and I could see red. It made me fear for the
lives of the disciples.”

“Did his aura reveal anything else?”
Arxu asked.

“Only that he has very strong physical
desires.”

“Sexual desires?” Nishka
asked.

“Perhaps. But he did not touch anyone
in a sexual manner. He only killed.”

Nishka believed they had concluded
their business in the temple. The information they had gained only
added to her concern.

“Thank you for your help,” Nishka said,
turning to leave.

“There is something else. Before the
guards released me, I overhead them talking.” Nishka halted and
looked at the cleric, waiting for her to continue. “They said a man
in armor was wandering the slums. If you wish to continue your
search for this killer, I would look there.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful.” Arxu remembered the
carnage he observed in the temple only a day ago. He had seen the
women lying dead across the bloodstained floor. Their wounds
indicated needless cruelty. He looked at Nishka and abruptly turned
away so she would not see the concern in his eyes.

Hrioshango had calmed down since
escaping the city guards. He encountered Nishka and Arxu just as
they came within passing of the slums.

Nishka wasn’t sure what they would find
in Gaelithea’s darkest infrastructure. She almost hoped they didn’t
encounter the killer. At a certain point, their whispered
conversation dwindled to silence. They could only observe the
surroundings with somberness.

Nishka journeyed at a slow pace through
the slums, afraid to disturb its inhabitants. The people around
them hid in the alcoves between buildings, heads bowed in defeat,
resigned to their misfortune.

“That child is staring at me,”
Hrioshango said. They followed his gaze across the cobbled street.
Nishka spotted a young boy standing by himself, ogling the
darkling. When his eyes met theirs, he shrank back in fear. On
impulse, Nishka approached.

“What is your name?” she asked softly.

The boy lowered his eyes to the ground
like an abused animal. Finally, he lifted his face to hers with an
expression of abandonment.

“Adrian,” he timidly replied. The rough
streets of Gaelithea were no place for a helpless child. Nishka
reasoned that he was lost or abandoned by family. His clothing was
worn and dirty, and she imagined he hadn’t eaten in days. She
feared he may not even have shelter.