An angel’s road to hell

90. Of powers, pitfalls and a little bit of history

Cassandra Pendragon

My wings lit up like a solar flare when energy rushed from my core like a tidal wave. Harsh light, at first silvery blue and then a glaring white, vanquished the shadows that had encroached upon me. A spherical shockwave pulsed from my body, annihilating everything it came in touch with. The creatures that still clung to the ceiling were brushed away like mosquitos in a storm and the unfortunate ones that had already dropped down were reduced to sparks of stardust in an instant. Pillars toppled over and burned before they reached the ground, the throne weathered the bright onslaught for a heartbeat before it disappeared in a blaze of light. Black marble became white hot slag when the darkness gave way to brilliant brightness like the night to a beautiful sunrise. And still I pushed more energy from my core, the infinite reservoir eager to finally come to life.

The silvery marks on my skin were the first parts of me to change, erupting into a maze of glowing lines that was visible despite the glare while I disappeared behind a veil of power. The outlines of my wings became blurry and seemingly fused together to form a flickering halo behind my back. The glow from my eyes turned into a torrent of light that streamed forth like a wave of liquid fire, effortlessly cutting through stone, darkness and mutated flesh. My senses awoke for the first time, piercing the chaos around me with frightening ease. I saw the monsters turn into ash in minute detail, I smelled the evaporating spells and I heard the panic ridden thoughts of a soon forgotten memory. Whatever piece the emperor had left behind, for the first time in its existence it knew fear. Bottomless, overwhelming, cruel fear that reduced it to a cowering shadow, hidden in in the fabric of the very world around me. And still I pushed, my core could offer so much more.

I became a deadly incarnation of light, as if the sun had been compressed into a tiny kitsune, its power barely contained by the frail from, leaking out as streams of magic. Lightbringer, indeed. The world turned into an immortal furnace and I felt the realm around me unravel. The very laws that bound this place became undone, washed away in a storm of light. There was no resistance, no desperate shove for more energy to stabilise, an abundance of energy was the problem after all. Everything in me screamed to fill this place with cleansing fire but I didn’t know what that would do to Reia. Right now, I felt certain that she wouldn’t be drained but what would happen if I destroyed this place I couldn’t tell. For all I knew she could already be changed in one way or the other.

My awareness flickered through the different impressions my enhanced senses provided me with, the visualisations I had come up with before slowly dispersed into a world of energy and magic. The room vanished, replaced by threads of multicoloured light that formed abstract, minuscule formations which in turn were the building blocks of the realm I was in, its structure laid bare before my eyes. Interwoven with every single construct was a foreign purpose, something alien that had claimed the magic and subjugated it to its will, a faint shadow behind the veil of this reality. And shadows had to flee before the light.

I focused on one singular glyph and tentatively bathed it in the glow, emitted from my eyes. Surprisingly enough there was no violent reaction, instead the threads of energy seemed to absorb some of it and hummed with a newfound brightness, the lingering darkness was dispelled. Swaths of memories broke lose when their anchor vanished and they immediately started to deteriorate, their structure unable to withstand the light. Hazy figures appeared and enacted blurry scenes from the distant past. Somehow I knew that I was witnessing a fragment of the decisions and moments that had led the emperor to cast this spell, that had formed the web of fate which had made this moment unavoidable. It was a chance to get to know my enemy.

Carefully I concentrated on the collapsing images and allowed them to expand. With dazzling speed traces of a memory combined into a shadowy sequence. A young boy with honey coloured skin, black hair and intelligent brown eyes stared blankly at a closed door. His homespun, dirty robe hung around his narrow shoulders as if it had been made for someone much wider in the chest. He was alone in a small room, a bed and a low table were the only furniture found and I could practically smell the rotten straw that peaked out beneath a worn blanket. The door opened and a friendly looking man in his forties entered. He kneeled in front of the boy and put his hand on the small shoulders. The resemblance between them was obvious and his next words made their relationship clear.

“Son, I’m sorry. I have to go. Let that be a lesson to you: those without power always suffer. It may not be our war, nor were they our gods but if I don’t fight they’ll kill me anyways. I pray that one day I will see you again, there’s always hope. But in case I shouldn’t return, remember what I told you, if you have nothing left, she’ll help you. I love you, Amon, never forget that.” A suppress cry shook the boy in his arms and they vanished like an airy fog under the midday sun.

Did I just witness a scene form the emperor’s youth? The moment that had set him on a path of violence and domination? Wearily I glanced at the hidden strands of memory. My enthusiasm at unravelling his past had evaporated. In a way, this whole thing was a trap. Knowledge led to understanding and understanding engendered pity. I didn’t want to feel for him, it was much easier to simply hate him, to picture him as the incarnation of something evil and not a living being with a past full of suffering that had shoved him down a path he hadn’t wanted to tread on in the first place. I knew enough about myself to realise that I wouldn’t be able to hate or condemn someone whom I understood, there was a reason after all why I had never bothered to talk to anyone I had had to kill. The question was, could I still fight him until the end if I came to know him or would I risk everything on the abysmal chance that I could maybe change his fate, give him back the opportunity to make his own way, free of the shackles thrust upon a young boy by cruel circumstances. Damned be it all, like I had told Viyara, sometimes you just had to suck it up, not everyone could be saved. I wouldn’t forget, nor would I forgive, burdens you had to carry were no excuse to make the world suffer.

My wings flared even more brightly and the light wrapped around every fibre of magic in this place, cleansing the emperor’s…Amon’s presence in a surge of luminosity. Clouds of memories rose around me like a maelstrom of dark waters, churning and changing and fleeting. I let it take me in, allowed it to catapult me through space and time to a distant past that still held sway over the present. The light and magical structures of the realm vanished, instead of hazy silhouettes that replayed pieces of Amon’s life before my eyes I became a part of them, similar to how I relived my own memories…

It was cold, the sun had set hours ago but I couldn’t bring myself to move my feet. As if tied down by iron chains I stood before the mound of fresh earth that contained my mother and brother and now also my father. My whole family had been taken from me and for what? To wage a war against forces we had been told to worship before, paltry gods invented to justify the rule of depraved men over a declining society. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all but all I managed was a strangled croak, more sob than anything else.

What was there to do? I was alone, my village gone, my family murdered and despite their guilt the ones responsibility still sat on their golden thrones in the capital, ready to subjugate the next generation to rebuild what they had lost. I curled my tiny hands into trembling fists. No more, no more would I be powerless and the plaything of others. The next war I’d have to suffer through would be of my own design. And even if I had to sacrifice my life and soul, I’d make sure the world would remember my name and that even a god king could bleed. Today, when the last shovel of earth had covered my father’s face, Amon had died. The frightened, useless child was gone, in its stead stood a man with a purpose. First, I’d end the travesties of existences that had brought the fires of war into my life. Seth, Sobek, Horus and Isis, they would all pay. I was going to purge this world of their taint and then I’d wreak my revenge on everyone who had a hand in their creation.

My shaking body slowly stilled as a newfound purpose streamed through me. I was no longer Amon, the scholar, but a child of despair and that was what I would bring to a world that had taken everything from me. I exhaled deeply and looked down on my family for the last time. A cloud obscured the moon and in utter darkness I shed my last tears before I turned away, ready to walk a new path, one that would allow me to rise above my grief and change the world as I saw fit. And I knew exactly where I had to start…

The cave was damp and cold, the filthy rags that were all I had left provided no protection form the creeping cold that seeped through my body. My bloodied feet, my sandals had fallen apart days ago, made barely a sound as I carefully tottered deeper into the darkness. The place reeked of dark magic but I wouldn’t turn around, the old me might have been scared but I had nothing left to lose and the thing that lived down here would either kill me outright or allow me to become more powerful than I could possibly imagine. Either way my suffering was going to come to an end soon…

White hot agony flooded through me as my soul was warped and twisted, my mind trying to flee from the consuming onslaught but I couldn’t. Kneeling in place I had to endure everything the witch was doing to me while I was wide awake. Her spidery legs caressed my cheeks while her eight eyes, ablaze with energy, bore down on me like I was the most succulent treat imaginable. I didn’t know why she had even listened to me or what kind of perverted amusement she got from keeping me conscious but I wouldn’t back down. Her offer had been to good to be true: surrender yourself and I’ll make you strong enough to achieve your goals. Sooner or later I’d make her pay for what she was doing to me but right now I needed her, I needed her to face my enemies…

My hands were covered in gore but I didn’t mind. It amused me that I had never killed anyone until a month ago and now I was liberally digging through a still breathing body, the screams that should have appalled me were nothing but a faint distraction while I closed my fist around a still beating heart. I yanked it free and a shudder ran through its previous owner. I didn’t particularly enjoy torture but it was necessary from time to time. The rag tag band of lowlifes I had gathered over the last weeks stared at me, fear, admiration and nausea reflected in their eyes while I raised the heart from the bloody hole the chest of the mage had turned into.

Without hesitation I brought my hands close to my mouth and bit down, the last thing the servant of the empire would see was a thin, ragged boy who stood tall over him and consumed his heart while his spirit fled to the next world. An image that would hopefully haunt the bastard in his next life. A surge of energy pulsed through me, the stolen essence coming over me in a rush. I felt my soul expand and grow, nourished by the life I had taken. The blood left a metallic taste in my throat but the warmth that flowed through me made up for the minor inconveniences I had had to go through. A thousand sacrifices, the spider had said, a thousand sacrifices and I’d be ready to end this war. If I was going to have my way, the eight legged monster would be one of them. Blood spurted from the corners of my mouth as I chomped through the tender meat and a cruel smile formed on my face…

Ah, destruction, chaos, mayhem. How I had come to love the scenes of despair that always followed when two armies clashed, steel against steel, magic against magic and flesh against flesh. Screams of pain and fear hung over the battlefield like a thick blanket punctuated only by the staggering staccato of colliding weapons. I breathed in deeply and felt the power of a thousand souls strain against the confines of my body, their anger and hatred palpable, especially from my former teacher. Good, I’d need that. With a twist of my mind I sent forth a hungry stream of death that ate through the opposing army and brought back the sweet nectar of their life force, my reservoirs swelling even more. At this rate I’d be able to face one of the so called gods on my own very soon. The thousands of corpses that were left in my wake would be put to good use. My father had been right, those without power always suffered for those who wielded it, but fortunately I wasn’t on the wrong side of the equation anymore…

The royal family, bound and gagged on the floor, was shaking in fearful anticipation. They were right to be scared for today would see the end of their dynasty. I needed their armies and their resources to face the gods they themselves had brought down on us and as long as one of them still drew breath, my rule would always be in jeopardy. Children, concubines, wives heirs and the pharaoh himself, they would all find their end at the tip of my sword. Let the butchery begin! A part of me was shaking in anticipation when I descended from the throne I had forcefully taken. There was something soothing in the crimson tide that flowed from cut throats and opened chests, it filled a hole inside of me I hadn’t even realised I was carrying around until the drops of blood from my first victim had finally started to close it with a blissful rush of fiery energy. This would be so much better…

Four tiny statuettes stood before me, the magic they contained a constant hum behind the veil of reality. I had waded through rivers of blood, I had erased a dynasty and led an empire into ruin and everything had been done for this. Everything had been done to finally send those abominations back to the hell they had crawled out of but somewhere along the way I had become just like them. It didn’t bother me, I was who I was and I didn’t care if I was called evil or good, god or devil, all I had ever cared for were my goals and to repay just a little of the debt I had owed the world since I was but an innocent boy.

The tower I was in was the last remainder of what had once been the prosperous capital of an empire that had reached from sunup to sundown and from the icy fields of the north to the flaring heat of the southern jungles. Now, when I gazed through the window, all I saw was rubble, ash and the corpses of the ones I had had to sacrifice to make this possible. Their cooling bodies littered the abandoned streets, at least those that had survived the final blast. There was nothing left, no foe to vanquish, no height of power I could still strive for. I was the last survivor of a ruined world. The thought made me laugh hysterically. “You are avenged,” I murmured. “I’ve finally done it.” Surprisingly tears came to my eyes when I thought of my family for the first time in ages. What would they say if they could see me now? No matter, they weren’t here anymore, nor was anyone else who could judge me.

My gaze travelled east, across the despoiled lands and towards the coast. Somewhere across the waves another continent supposedly existed. Another place where I could start again, relive the highs and lows of battle, butchery and conquest. Another place where I could leave my mark…