Tales of Cobardon

Chapter X

Taperend

He trudged through the jagged slope of Mount Qombar, his legs aching from the strain, a smile on his face. After a long, onerous trek he reached the top of the volcano. His shoe soles burned from the magma underneath the slope, wrapped in soot after frequent, unpredictable eruptions. The slopes of Qombar were ripe with rivulets of lava, with air bubbles forming, growing and bursting in them, flowing from its mouth's occasional outbursts. Coming here had been a risk, what he was about to do was riskier.

He stood straight on the edge of the volcano mouth and stared into the churning lava filled with searing froth. He knew no other way of calling its attention except infuriating it.

He pulled down his pants and ... peed into the volcano!

It had been the only way of calling a god, by committing such a sacrilegious act on the god's sacred outlet of fury. He thought to himself, I would pay for my profanity, wouldn't I?

A voice bellowed shaking the ground, and making the level of magma in the pool within the volcano rise, "BLASPHEMOUS MORTAL!" The rivers of lava on Qoumabr's surface widened and flowed more rapidly.

A moment later a horrendous sound echoed for miles, which Taperend assumed was a chuckle of gods, upon understanding his trick. Ringhal's voice boomed from Quombar's mouth, "Speak, puny mortal, what is it that you desire?" Taperend gulped and muttered with difficulty, "Nothing more than your blessing, mighty immortal."

"You frame well, human, and you shall have my blessing and I shall have your leash."

The same horrendous sound echoed again. Taperend felt a void of power reappear, as the god left.

Taperend sighed and began his journey back, muttering to himself in a voice mixed with relief and fear, "This is as good as meetings with gods can go ... and anyway I will need it, as a god has already entered the arena, against my motives."

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Demzan

In a fluid motion he spun round; talons turning to feet, wings to hands, beak to mouth, eagle to human. Trevan strode beside him and they both halted in front of an ivy curtain. Demzan shrugged aside some ivy and entered into an seemingly different realm - above was a dense, lush canopy with occasional tiny gaps which swayed with shifting leaves, causing dim spots of light to dance peacefully around. The canopy's center held no leaves but a clear path for a gleaming shaft of sunlight, which fell on a lone, marble pillar, upon which was a shining slab, traced with ivy which looked like veins. Upon the slab lay etched in stone, the holy vow of their ancestors -

Through fire and flame,

Sorrow and shame,

Blossoming your blessing came.

And we shall give heart and soul,

When you want,

For purposes fair or foul.

May ever shine upon us the blessing of light,

And we vow to aid you in any plight.

-Cupen, Worshiper of Raguela.

Demzan smirked. Never would they have thought the immortals would need mortal meddling, he thought to himself, now she comes knocking on our door and I cannot even fathom what she desires. Trevan whispered to him, "How do we call her?" "She called us. She will know we have come."

The ground was encrusted with mottled moss and brittle leaves. They both heard a soft rustling and turned around to meet her.

"You are late", Raguels declared disappointingly. Demzan burst out, "It was late or never." Anger flashed in her eyes for a moment and then she finally, mockingly said, "Tainted blood of a skin changer." Demzan wanted to debate that before him the skin changers were hunted but now they were the hunters. Yet, he knew it would yield no fruit and so gulped down the rebuttal.

She began reciting, "It is time I hold you for your vows. A convergence of power is portended. Three other gods are already in this game. You shall be my ticket to the game." Raguels pointed towards Trevan.

Trevan gulped but asked, "Is Oskcopa playing too?" She gave a curt nod. All three knew what it meant: If Light and Darkness came face to face, an immortal would die!

She stretched out a hand, in direction of Trevan's ancestral sword, and asked, "If I may." Trevan nodded. The sword flew out of the scabbard and into her hands. She muttered a chant in a long lost language, "Dhuftgy Jytedku Td Rtedasrtuoi!" The sword let out a blinding, circular pulse into the air. His head rung with a shrill, scratching sound.

The goddess of light offered Trevan the great sword hilt-first. It would be a lie if Demzan didn't say he felt a little relief and a lot guilty for feeling relief. This meant death, well at least three of the four god tools would die.