Deirdre Chen: Saviour of the Multiverse

Chapter 4

Mengo

Lenga’s wrinkled fingers caressed the length of a thin black reed, as she sat in the gaping mouth of the serpent’s skull that was Mengo’s throne. Above the throne was a halo of portraits. This was the Termut Clan hall of fame: Tengo the Shatterer, Uzengo the Furious and Ihengo the Spreadsheet Maker. Mengo and his brother stood at the steps leading to it, stripped to their underwear like two peasants come to court. They were fixated on that reed, which many times had cut their skin.
  Mengo steeled himself for what was about to come. Lenga glanced at the reed, glanced at Mengo, glanced at the reed, glanced at Bengo. She carried out this ritual, knowing the anticipation was the worst part.
  “Who wants to go first?”
  “Me.” the sound of Bengo’s quivering voice broke Mengo’s hearts. Mengo had told him to do this, his mother never struck the first to volunteer. Bengo could never take it, not as a child, not now. She summoned Mengo forward with a slight gesture of her hand, and when he was close enough, she leapt forward and slashed away at her eldest son. Mengo hated the lashes, not for the physical pain but for the flashbacks they triggered. It was always his first memory that came up; being tipped out of his cot onto a bed of nettles.
  The second lash hit Mengo’s collar bone, and his nose was filled with the smell of burning.
  “Pick your favourite toy, Mengo.” Lenga’s words awoke him as he lay comfortably on his nettle bed. He opened his eyes and saw a set of toys lined up on the foot. Lenga stood behind them, silhouetted by the roaring fire she had made for him, an innocent smile across her face. Lenga had her arms behind her back and was gently rocking on the balls of her feet.
  “Mummy, these toys belong to Bengo.”
  “Oh he won’t complain, will you Bengo.” Lenga kicked at something and Mengo heard the all too familiar whimper of his little brother.
  “Pick your favourite toy.”
  “I won’t.”
  “Then they ALL go in the fire.”
  “Bengo hasn’t done anything!”
  “Correction, Bengo DOESN’T do anything. That’s what makes him an inferior. Remember how we treat our inferiors?”
  “It’s about this isn’t it?” Mengo held out his hand; he was wearing the finger gauntlet.
It had fallen from the sky six months before and attached itself to him.
  “You will decide what’s best for your brother, just as one day you’ll be deciding what’s best for the multiverse.” Mengo locked eyes with his brother, felt their shared fear, their shared rage. Bengo’s head dropped, tears splashed on the stone floor. “Stop this, please,” he pleaded.
Mengo let Bengo keep a stuffed sandworm, and teleported the rest into the fire, all at once to make it quick.
  A third lash wrapped around his bare stomach, reminding him of the time he dared to challenge his mother.
  Lenga had declared war on Ivasha, a clan three times their size and strength. She had hired a mercenary army to raid the villages and towns under their protection, then ordered them to leave, making Clan Termut defenceless against the inevitable retaliation.
  Mengo awoke to a marching army that shook the foundations of their small, rundown castle. He ran to the balcony, and saw that the soldiers were so numerous they appeared as a field of iron. Their castle had a dome of pure energy over it, but this could only hold for a few days.
  “Happy 218th Mengo!” Lenga cheered as she entered the room.
  “What is the meaning of this?” Mengo grabbed onto the balcony, trying to stay on his feet.
  “Well, you’ve been getting better with The Gauntlet, moving objects of immense size. But you’ve been awfully shy about it. Beyond those gates is an opportunity to showcase your skills.”
  “I don’t want to,” Mengo said, turning to face her.
  “You don’t want to!?” she darted towards him, poking his forehead. “Do you think you have a choice!? Why not just teleport our shield away and let them run riot!? It won’t end here you know. You defeat this army, they’ll send another. We have to destroy the entire clan! But then Ivasha has allies, and their allies have allies.”
  Mengo held his head in his hands, “You’ve done this to me, thrown me into an endless war.”
  “I’ve done this FOR you. It’s time you built the Termut name, instead of running from it, like your sister.”
  “SHUT UP!” Mengo barked, like a kicked dog that finally bit back.
  For a few sweet seconds, Lenga had gone from his vision. Mengo looked around the room to find her lying on the nettle bed. He enjoyed the sound of her wincing as the nettles stung her. Mengo raised his hand to his mother, trying to channel all the hatred and anger down his arm. He wanted to teleport her head from her shoulders, but he knew she’d already won. The army wouldn’t be satisfied with one head, they would need his too, especially once they knew what he possessed.
  The thinking had been done for him.
  He looked over to the mighty horde and teleported the land from under their feet. They fell into the mass grave before being crushed by the very same land, which was now above them. Mengo made sure that not a single crack was left in the field; it remained as immaculate as before. The screams only lasted a split second, but it’s a split second he still heard sometimes when he woke up.
  Needless to say, he had to conquer the rest of Lormia as a precaution. You cannot imagine his relief when the final clan surrendered without a fight. All of Lormia swore loyalty to ‘Mengo the Conqueror’. What a pity it couldn’t stop there.
  A unified Lormia made her planetary neighbours a little uneasy, and they had allies, and their allies had allies. It was now his mother’s turn to retrieve The Gauntlet. He pitied the Chen girl.