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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Pars IV: Infernus
(o)
Saturday, May 12, 708 CR
They climbed back up to the base of the
escarpment where the ground was level and moved
swiftly along the path. The towering cliffs
diminished as the seconds turned to long minutes.
The chasm narrowed enough that he could make out
creatures moving on the other side, but the
depths remained impenetrable and there was no
sign of any way to cross short of sprouting
wings. And every way that he turned he saw that
vile shade of red covering everything.
Red. Red. Red! Even that poisonous green on the
spade of the beast that had ruined his ear had
been a delight to savor in comparison to the
never-ending panorama of baleful red. What words
could he use to bring it some vitality, some
inkling of interest to assuage his disquiet?
Scarlet brought to mine a fire which this place
kindled only in the heart. Crimson reminded him
of the spilling of blood which came all too
often. Rouge suggested the anger searing his
cheeks. Cardinal? For him that had always been
associated with the Ecclesia and this place
rejected such holiness. Roseate? That was an
outpouring of love and there was none to be found
here. Damask? A product of luxury and here all but brutality was spurned.
The chain he saw in his mind was not red. It
seemed to be a shimmering steel alloy, glistening
with chrome so that in the oddly tilting light a
veritable panoply of colors limned each link. He
pondered it as they walked, each step stretching
their legs as far as they could. The strength he
felt in each link was not one of flesh and blood,
nor did it depend on the sinews for its vitality.
It was the strength of a current, rising and
falling with the tide, impossible to resist, and
all of it offered into his hands.
Would he not need a strength beyond the ken of
men if he were to reclaim the son stolen from
him? Did he truly know what awaited them on the
levels beneath where things were even more
dangerous and vile than he witnessed here? Could
he possibly imagine the Beyond and what he must
fight through there? Strength awaited him in that
chain, a strength beyond even what the Sondeck was capable of.
But there was something unsettling about that
strength as well, something the clarity in his
mind noted now that he'd had a few minutes free
from combat to consider. Although the links in
the chain were clear and shone with a brilliant
luster, he could not see either end of it. It was
not that the end stretched out beyond his sight,
but that he could not bring either end into view.
It was as if the end nearer him came to some
place on his flesh that no matter how he twisted
would not reveal itself. And the other was lost
in a darkness that would not lift.
Charles pushed the chain from his thoughts and
focused on the barren landscape around him. The
escarpment had dwindled until it was no more than
a tall bluff. The chasm had also narrowed. There
were no more volcanoes on the other side, only a
line of ridges across which he could not see. A
group of men and deformed beasts claws and fought
each other there, their attention lost on each
other. Charles winced at the sound of bones
crushing, violent screams, and hideous laughter
all mingled together so tightly that he could not discern one from the others.
The path ahead was lost behind another turn to
the right about the escarpment. Charles peered
backward and turned his good ear. The baying
sounded from time to time, always closer but
never in sight. But now there was nothing behind
them to give their hunters away. Charles
grimaced, rubbed his snout with the back of his
hand to clear it of the blood dust, and resumed their relentless march.
Step back!
The alarm nearly came too late. Reflexes drove
the rat backward at the urgent command. A split
second later a huge boulder crushed into the spot
where he'd stood. He glanced upward and saw
arranged at the cusp of the bluff a quartet of
vaguely man-shaped creatures whose scaly skin was
dusky red and who had horns protruding from their
flesh at random. These lifted boulders as large
as themselves and hurled them down the side of bluff toward rat and Åelf.
Charles pressed himself against the bluff and
gasped for breath. The second boulder struck,
shattering into a thousand fragments that bit
into his flesh. Qan-af-årael also took refuge
against the bluff, but he stretched out one hand,
spreading a green nimbus around them. The third
boulder careened off the shield to scatter down the defile harmlessly.
Charles trembled, gritting his incisors as he
pulled a sliver of stone from the side of his
leg. Blood oozed between his fingers as he
pressed down on the wound. The pain lanced into
his mind and with it a fire that trapped his
thoughts. The chain lifted before him and he knew
he only had to stretch out his hand for it.
Instead he lifted his eyes to the top of the
bluff and hissed between his teeth. Saturated by
the blood of countless aeons, the stone before
him was still, at its heart, stone.
With a glint in his eye and fire in his veins,
Charles drove his right arm into the bluff,
merged it with the stone, and reached upward the
hundred feet or so that separated them. He could
feel the rage of a million murders pouring
through him. He swam through the strangulation
and gouging of throats. He waltzed with
disembowelment and performed a pirouette with
dismemberment. He gorged on a thousand severed
heads and slurped their entrails. He bathed in
the blood of his enemies, countless enemies for
whom he felt nothing but hate which burned as a fire that consumed even him.
And through all of that horror he felt the feet
of the quartet of monsters stomping about atop
the bluff. With a heave of his will and Sondeck,
he shattered the rock on which they stood. Their
laughter turned to screams as they upended and
hurtled through the air, limbs flailing but
catching nothing. One of them was cast into the
chasm and continued to scream as he fell. The
other three all smashed into the defile, crushing
their bodies before they too slipped into the abyss.
Charles withdrew his arm and fell to his knees,
gasping, with tears pouring from his eyes. A
heavy weight bound his neck and he felt something
tugging him to the ground. The chain. One hand
still pressing down on the wound at his neck, he
lifted his other hand to pull the chain away, but
it passed through as if the metal links were as insubstantial as fog.
He vomited, disgorging everything that he could.
Blood splattered from his jaws and seeped into
the stones beneath him. He trembled, gasping for
any breath he could take. Something was wrapped
about his neck and every gasp made him flinch
from it. Yet his searching paw found nothing.
With each second the memory of all the death
faded, though the enormity of it lingered with
him, and the burning sensation still filled him and licked at him.
A hand rested on his back and then beneath his
arm, lifting him to his feet. Charles grimaced at
the pain in his leg but still managed to stand.
The chain no longer dragged him down. He focused
his thoughts on the presence that lingered at his side. Can you heal my leg?
I can, but that is not your most pressing need. A
little more and you will belong to the master of this realm.
Help me!
I am.
Even as those two words ricocheted through the
rat's mind, the ancient one lowered his hand to
the wound at his side and touched it with a faint
blue glimmer of light. For a blissful moment
Charles could feel a renewal of energy and a
dimming of the flames that burned and made him
tremble with a rage that he could not put aside.
In that moment he cast his thoughts beyond the
misery of the damned to another soul. He saw her
face, with gentle tan fur, soft pink ears,
slender whiskers, and deep black eyes of such
elegant softness and warmth that they could only
belong to his beloved. He ached for her touch.
Her name hovered at the edge of his thoughts but
it was too blessed to be uttered in so
blasphemous a place. The chain before him and the
weight upon his neck faded as he pondered his
wife. His strength dimmed, but still he managed to stand.
It is too late! Run!
The hands upon him pulled him forward. Charles,
snapped from his reverie, felt his revulsion and
the weight of anger bear him down again. Turning,
he cast his glance backward and felt his body
stiffen in alarm. Coming around the last turn a
few hundred paces back was a pack of eight
blood-red hounds like the ones they slaughtered
on entering the realm. Cavorting above them in
the air were little winged gremlins bearing short
spears and wicked yellow eyes. Behind them, and
holding the chains of the hounds was a gargantuan
creature that filled him with immense terror.
The creature was vaguely man-shaped at first
glance, with a bristling golden countenance, a
head full of wavy auburn hair, and a chest
rippling with muscle and glimmering as if smeared
in oil. But the expression was filled with a
malice beyond mortal ken, and from its side
sprung six arms, five of which brandished
scimitars taller than the Åelf. It possessed no
legs. Where the torso ended a serpent's body
began, thick and wide with iridescent vermillion
and violet scales that glimmered with the
vibrancy of coral. Stones were crushed to dust
beneath the undulating scales as it traversed the
defile. The end of its tail was lost to sight.
Charles gasped and started to run. His thoughts
frantically turned to his protector. What is it?
The most dangerous thing you could face in this
realm apart from its masters. A marilith. They
command the armies of the daedra lords and are utterly without mercy or honor.
Both of them ran. Charles felt a small tremble in
his left leg where the stone had bit, but
whatever healing Qan-af-årael had provided kept
him moving. The hounds bayed, unleashed from
their chains, they closed fast. Charles felt
Qan-af-årael slow beside him but he kept moving.
Yet in his heart he felt the anger swell. Where could they possibly go?
The question answered itself as he rounded the
bend. The bluff came to an abrupt stop as the
chasm bent around at a sharp angle. The defile
came a single pointed outcropping overlooking the
abyss which had narrowed considerably. Across
that span stretched a stone bridge in the shape
of a single shallow arch. The width was not even
two paces wide, and its length was greater than
the distance that separated them from the hounds.
One wrong step would drop him into depths he could not fathom.
But there was nowhere else to go. Grinding his
teeth the rat ran, tail flashing behind him as he
pushed with his Sondeck to gain every mote of
speed he could. Even the spectral chain seemed to
draw him forward. His feet ached from the biting
stones beneath him but still he ran. Behind him
he heard the snarling of the hounds, vicious and
ravenous, growing ever closer. The slithering and
grinding of the marilith followed with inexorable doom.
Charles slowed as he reached the narrow bridge to
cast one last glance backward. Qan-af-årael had
stopped as well thirty paces behind him wielding
the brilliant tree blades in either arm. The
hounds were snapping at him in an attempt to find
a way around him. These knew not to come within
reach of the blades. Bearing ever closer was the
marilith, his expression one of malicious triumph
as of a giant ready to crush a fly. The coterie
of gremlins was nowhere to be seen.
Charles glanced down at the bridge, peered over
the edge once, and instantly regretted it.
Whereas the bridge between realms was impossible
to fall off because there was literally no
reality beyond into which one could fall, here
the nothing was quite real and from that abyss he
knew there was no hope of rescue.
He stepped onto the bridge, crouching as he did
so. Slinking in a posture more suited to his
feral form, the rat scurried across that narrow
strip of rock as fast as he dared. Where the air
next to the escarpment had been stagnant without
even a slight breeze to give them some relief,
the bridge was buffeted by sudden gusts of wind
that made him sink his hands and feet into the
stone to anchor himself. Every inch of immersion
bathed him in the screams of myriads caught upon
the bridge, crushed against its span, and then
cast into the darkness below. The rage,
insatiable in its fiery presence, devoured him.
The chain at his neck glimmered to life, both
frightening him but giving him strength to
counter the wind. The clasp about his neck bit
into his shoulders and forced his head upward.
Before him the links in the chain grew taut,
lifting off the surface of the bridge, pulling
him forward. Charles gasped and with one hand
tried to claw at the chain. Its substance was
immaterial, but there was a slight resistance as
his claws passed through the chrome, as if it
were gaining in strength with every hateful
thought and blasphemous emotion fed into him through the stone.
Charles pulled all of his limbs from the bridge
and collapsed against its surface. The wind
ripped at his back, tugging him toward the abyss
at his right. His tail lashed to the side, and he
felt himself sliding against the surface of the
rock. He dug his claws into any crevice he could
find. His right leg scratched at the stone,
slipped, and then spilled over the edge. He
gasped and pressed down harder with his left, and
felt the tear in his flesh break open again. A
lance of agony raced up his leg and made his arms
tremble as if palsied. The wind pounded, tugging
at the cowl of his cloak as the darkness, an
almost conscious thing, hungrily growled below.
A thought permeated that fear, clear and
brilliant in its simplicity. Take the chain and
you will cross the bridge alive.
He could feel it now, and not just something he
perceived. His snout rested atop the links, warm
to the touch and stronger than the stone beneath
him. It stretched across the bridge and in
between the cleft of rock at its end. In the
distance he could see a figure at the other end.
Clad in dark mail and burnished an infernal red
between each of the chinks in the plate, there
was an aura of dread and a celebration of anger
in his countenance. Strength unchallengeable was
in that chain, and an offer of safe passage
across the bridge was certain in it.
But the chain was not the only thing which he
could now feel against his flesh. About his neck
latched a collar of steel from which protruded
spikes that gouged the bridge where they touched.
Strength beyond measure was being offered to him
as was an assurance that he would not die on this
bridge. But whose will would guide that strength?
And whose will would direct that life?
Charles knew in that moment that if he took the
chain he would be a slave to the master of this
realm, to the lord of rage and hate. And he knew
that if he joined with the stone of spilled blood
again he would be so consumed by aeons of hate
that he would gladly enslave himself. What of
Kimberly then? What of Ladero? All would be lost to him.
Charles closed his eyes and scrabbled with his
right leg at the stone, focusing his Sondeck,
even as he mouthed the words to its Song. The
wind battered, but did not dislodge. Charles felt
it ebb and he scrambled back into place, gasping
for breath, claws digging deep into the stone in
case the wind returned. The chain remained as did
the collar but for the moment they were faded.
They were a promise; the lord of this realm had
not yet attempted his final gambit to claim him.
The rat chanced a glance behind him and saw that
Qan-af-årael had backed onto the bridge. Three of
the eight hounds lay in pieces on the defile. A
fourth was missing entirely. The other four
snapped at the Åelf, snarling in rage at their
inability to get around him. One of them leaped
across the span toward where the rat was pinned
only to scatter into chunks of flesh as his
protector stretched out the tree blade to meet him.
The marilith coiled where the bluff came to an
end and drove two of its swords into the rock.
Hands with bronzed fingers stretched outward, a
darkness spinning between them as of a thousand
pieces of thread weaving together in a net.
Charles swallowed at the sight of it and risked
crawling across the surface of the bridge. He
managed no more than six paces before the wind
struck him again and his hindquarters slipped off
the side. He kicked and clawed at the stone, but
with the wind pressing into his face, he
continued to slide. One foot passed the bottom of
the bridge and kicked at the empty air. He
screamed in a panic, only to have his voice cut
short when the collar dug into the side of the
bridge as his chest was pressed over the side.
Choking for breath, his arms grasped for any purchase at all.
The chain glimmered solid and sure.
The black mailed monster holding the other end
seemed to smirk across the distance. Perhaps your
protector can break the chain? If he survives.
Wouldn't you like the strength to defeat your enemies?
Charles grunted, staring at the chain for only a
moment longer before casting his gaze back at
Qan-af-årael. The Åelf summoned a giant blue
shield that stood at the end of the bridge, and
then brilliant plumes of yellow light cascaded
from his body to circle the air. The wind fell
silent as they coursed around the bridge.
Charles, eyes blurring from lack of breath,
finally found purchase for his claws and pulled
himself back onto the bridge. The links rattled
against each other as he heaved his legs and tail to safety.
He turned back to thank the Åelf when he saw
something hurtling through the shield at them.
All three of the remaining hounds bayed as they
tumbled end over end through the air, thrown by
the marilith in its fury. Look out! Charles
shouted, voice so ragged that the sound was barely a whisper.
But the Åelf understood, spun, and with two
swipes sent the last remnants of the hounds to
the darkness below. And then the shield shattered
with a titanic roar that knocked the rat back
against the bridge, the spikes in his collar
digging into the stone so that for a moment he could not move at all.
The marilith slithered forward, wreathed in black
light, four scimitars waving about through the
air, his other two hands crafting another series
of obnubilating ribbons that snaked out to
strangle the yellow efflorescence. Qan-af-årael
half turned, brandishing his tree blade, while
the other lowered to kiss the bridge. Trails of
light coursed across the bridge, and then down beneath it.
Charles tugged at the collar until he loosed the
spike from the stone, and resumed crawling. A
volley of spells bounced back and forth between
the marilith and his protector, spells against
which Charles had no defense that would not damn
him as well. He glared at the chain and felt the
links grow heavier and the collar tighter against
his neck. He winced and narrowed his eyes,
whiskers drooping, and forced himself to look
away from it. Rage was only going to make a slave
of him. It had almost done so already.
Yes. I am your master now. Come, little rat. Come to me.
To his horror, he felt a compulsion to obey. He
could not stop on the bridge, there was nowhere
to go. But every step brought him closer to the
being at the other end of the chain. Charles
allowed himself no measure of defiance as he
stepped forward, but neither was it obedience to
that voice. It was his will that led him onward. His alone.
Charles! Above you!
The more familiar voice, that of his protector,
resounded in his mind. The rat glanced upward,
and then felt the chain yank him back down. From
out of red-smeared sky descended more than a
dozen little gremlins with their nasty spears.
Charles forced himself to spin onto his back,
swinging out the Sondeshike as he did. He struck
the first of the gremlins on the side of its
head. The skull caved in and the creature
spiraled out of sight beneath him. Three more he
dislodged with those first spins of his staff
before the others banked away out of reach.
He counted ten gremlins left but these were
banking and swirling so quickly that even with
his widely spaced eyes he had trouble watching
all of them. Two dove for his left, but only one
of them was able to avoid the crushing blow of
his staff. Another three came from his left and
none of them escaped, two with severed wings and
the third whose snarl-faced head bounced across
Charles' belly before falling off the other side of the bridge.
Two more flew toward his legs and he angled the
Sondeshike to intercept hem when he felt the
chain yank him forward again. He gagged and
nearly lost his grip on the spinning staff. As he
tightened his grip, he felt a lance of pain in
his tail. He kicked with his right leg, caught
the gremlin square in the back, and sent it
hurtling off the edge of the bridge. The second
drove its spear deep into the flesh of his tail,
severing the bone and flesh in twain. A horrified
squeak erupted from his throat as the bottom half
of his tail rolled off the bridge, blood pouring from the wound.
The laughing gremlin was silenced when his left
leg caved in its chest. But the chain continued
to draw him backward. The spikes dug into the
stone leaving a trio of gouges behind that the
blood from his tail filled as they passed. The
last four gremlins flew just out of range, laughing and mocking him.
Charles felt the flare of rage return, pricking
and pounding on the door of his heart for
admittance. He stared past his severed tail
instead at the Åelf. His thoughts hurtled
outward, a plea simple and immediate. Help me!
Qan-af-årael appeared to be bending under the
onslaught of the marilith's dark ribbons. He had
fallen to one knee, the tree blade between them
the only thing keeping him from being consumed by the obsidian plasma.
Another voice replied to his cry. He cannot help
you. I can. Take the chain or the gremlins will!
And they did. The four gremlins, as if hearing
the same command, flew further along the bridge
and grasped the links of the chain. Charles no
longer felt drawn along and was able to stand.
The gremlins, weak though they were individually,
were pushing the chain toward the edge of the
bridge. In horror Charles raised his arms and
then flung them downward. The Longfugos rush of
air knocked all of them from their feet. They
scattered into the air, flapped their wings, and
then settled further along the bridge to try again.
And then all of them were knocked to their feet
as a titanic bloom of green light engulfed the
other end of the bridge. The marilith screamed in
an agony so piercing that Charles felt his ribs
turn brittle in his chest. He collapsed to his
knees, wincing as he brushed the severed tip of
his tail, and gasped in awe at the sight of the
six-limbed monstrosity wreathed in verdant light
so encompassing that all other light faded. For
the first time since they arrived, Charles did not see any red at all.
The marilith launched into the air as if flung
from a catapult. The fire consuming him dwindled
his flesh, shrinking him inward. Yet his momentum
carried him forward, fury incalculable writ
unending in his face. By the time he reached the
rat, he was no larger than his gremlins. Arms
lashed out, and he felt a spasm in his flesh. A
moment more and the being of terror was swallowed
by the green light and winked out.
Behind him the gremlins dropped the chain and
fled as fast as their wings could carry them.
Before him Qan-af-årael walked across the bridge,
hands empty but for a fading green light.
Something slick began to slide into his hands.
Charles glanced down and stared uncomprehending
as his entrails slipped from his belly into his
arms and down across his Sondeshike.
He collapsed on the bridge a moment later, the
fiery red all around him fading into a nightmare.
The collar on his neck tightened and he could
feel himself being dragged away. All of his limbs
went cold and numb. He tried to think of his wife
and son, but there was only the darkness come to
envelop him. Charles saw nothing but smears of red dwindling away.
Into the void appeared a figure bathed in a
divine white light. Around him all things seemed
to brighten, and Charles felt himself immersed in
that vivifying warmth. A soft voice echoed around
him, speaking beautiful words he could not
comprehend. All stilled in that moment of
renewal. Pain did not return, but a sense of
wholeness and purpose resumed in his flesh.
Charles felt motion imbued in his limbs, and with
it a tingling sensation as if he were waking from a deep sleep.
In his vision, he glimpsed a world of beauty
surrounding the figure of white light. His
protector and guardian, the ageless power, did
not seem to be a figure of antiquity but one of
endless youth and vitality. Radiant blue eyes
regarded him from the folds of white cascading
one over another. Thin lips bore a smile of
supreme pleasure and unparalleled magnanimity.
The words of power uttered were sweeter in his
ears than the song of the most delicate violin.
All was rightly ordered in his presence.
Charles blinked and the vision faded. His hands
stretched to touch his stomach and found it
whole. He blinked, reached to his neck and found
it free. His hand climbed higher but his left ear
was still torn. Shifting his tail he still felt
where it had been shorn in two. But he was alive, and the chain was gone.
He turned about, and saw that they stood
uncontested in the center span of the bridge. His
protector knelt before him, smiling, the power
fading from his countenance. As the red returned
to his field of view, his thoughts scattered, but
the question reached its goal. What happened to me?
You received a mortal wound. The marilith was
powerful in its death. But that wound opened the
doorway to break the chain you wove for yourself.
You are now free to leave this place with me.
My ear and tail?
They will be restored when you leave. Healing
magic in this place must be used with care. Only
to save your life would I extend it as I have. In
this place, healing can poison you. Only the
nature of your wound allowed me to work.
Charles lifted the severed stump that remained of
his tail, reduced to half its length. But my tail!
Qan-af-årael's smile broadened in bemusement. It
will return. No Rat should be without his tail.
But it is best to leave it as is for now.
Charles was certain he did not understand and
knew no matter how many questions he asked he
would never understand. Instead he choose
gratitude. Thank you, Master Qan-af-årael. Are we
ready to leave this place yet?
Not yet. There is but a little further to go
first. Come. We must enter the spectacle of rage.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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