Exousia - The Patron Saints of the Damned -Book II

It took Exousia a few days before the shakes and physical pain felt manageable enough for her to leave the tent she’d woken up in. Over the days of her rest, she’d heard various people milling about outside, and felt their auras. To her surprise, the energy they projected was not like the ones she was used to–the frantic energies of humans just barely making it from day to day. No … there was a calm among them … and something even familiar. So, on the fourth day of her stay, Exousia ventured out early in the morning, before Ammon usually arrived for discussions over food.

Outside the tent was a full camp, it seemed. Semi-permanent looking tents like the one she’d stayed in dotted the pine woodlands around. There were also a few log cabins, which seemed once-abandoned and now patched up with timber that didn’t fully match.

“So you’re the new girl,” said an unknown person.

Exousia jumped a little and readied herself to be attacked. However, the person who had been behind her tent, a girl, did not move to attack. She was a human … much taller than Exousia and maybe a year or two older. She had warm brown skin and wore her thick black hair tied behind her. She wore a green, flannel shirt, jeans, and a sturdy-looking pair of boots. Appropriate, given that she had splintered wood under both arms. The older girl laughed and said, “My bad, short stuff.”

Exousia furrowed her brown, unsure if she was being mocked. In response, she said, “I’m not one of you, if that is what you are implying. I’ll only be here briefly. And my name is Exousia.”

“Oh really, Short Stuff?” the older girl said, raising her eyebrows like it was a challenge and still not letting the infuriating smile fall. “Well, my name’s Camila. Tell me, what brings you out to Ammon’s little band of misfits then?”

So Ammon was using his real name among them … that tracked, even if it was a little surprising that he wasn’t using his “Father Ammon” shtick.

Exousia decided that it would be best to wait and get more information about him slowly. In the same spirit of honesty and … perhaps … to trying to be as unexpected as her opponent, Exousia replied, “I’m figuring out how to destroy him.”

Camila studied her for a moment, no doubt trying to sus out whether she was lying. Finally, she replied, “Why would you want to do that? Sure Ammon’s a demon, and had a screw or two loose, but he’s a really good guy.”

Exousia let her jaw drop.

Once again, Ammon had gone far beyond the expected. And it had put her off-guard too–meeting a human who had been allowed this level of insight into demon affairs. But then again … there was something more to Camila. It was the same familiar something that Exousia had sensed echoing from the auras of people all over the camp.

“Woah,” Camila said, seeming to look through her. Suddenly, she dropped the firewood, stepped close, and pressed her ear to Exousia’s chest.

Like in the game of checkers the day before, Exousia felt stunned as her senses overloaded. There was fear, sure, but not the same kind at all as from losing a competition against her nemesis. And anger wasn’t in the mix either. No, Exousia was feeling something she hadn’t before, an … uncertainty … as to whether she wanted to snap the girl’s neck or remain exactly as they were for an indeterminate amount of time.

“Your soul … it’s like … half demon,” Camila said, pulling away with her eyes bright and excited. “And it’s not Ammon’s!”

Exousia felt like flames were burning from her neck all the way to her cheeks. She turned around in toothless irritation, just trying to hide her face. Of course that was what the girl was doing … sensing the soul differences between them. Which meant … “You … have a piece of Ammon’s soul within yours?” Focusing fully on the revelation, Exousia managed to step away and face the other hybrid girl.

Camila nodded excitedly. “Everyone here does. But way less and … all the same demon. I’ve never met someone like us who had a piece of soul from a different demon, it’s so cool!”

Exousia shook her head, unable to really process what she was hearing. Everything she’d experienced here had been strange and entirely counter to what it should have been. But to hear somebody praise her mortal enemy like this was too far. She shook her head. “Ammon is a madman. He’s an apocalyptic fanatic who tormented me and made me kill. And he’s going to ruin any chance that demonkind has of escaping torment.”

Camila grimaced, but she didn’t fight back. Instead, she thought for a moment and then said, “Follow me.”

Exousia nearly protested, but Camila took her hand and the same confusing feelings from before caught whatever she’d been about to retort in its tracks. Was this … terrible? It had to have been. Why else would her thoughts be shut down and replaced with this … humid airiness in her chest. It left her helpless, just following along silently. Passively, she glanced down at the hand holding hers.

It was a bit larger, muscular and with slight callouses along the lines of her palms–no doubt from cutting wood. Of course, there was no mistaking this in her arms either which pressed tightly against the fabric of her flannel shirt.

Exousia forced her gaze away, trying to break her mind from whatever hybrid or human magic Camila was surely using to muddle her concentration.

Camila, however, seemed perfectly at ease to continue talking, like she wasn’t concentrating on the spell at all. “I know as well as the next person that Ammon has hurt people in his … episodes. But he also got a lot of us out of bad places. I mean, I was fucking freezing to death on the side of the road when he found me. In all the movies, you always see the devil or a demon helping in exchange for something. But not him, he’s just like ‘Here’s a place to stay Camila. Oh by the way, we’re on the hunt for one of the last active gods. Feel free to help if it interests you.’ The dude he is when he’s in his right mind, he’s a good one. Way better than most humans I’ve met.” That was right … she’d been talking about Ammon.

Exousia forced her thoughts to the topic at hand. The girl had been given a home outside human society. Exousia felt that she could relate to that sentiment–far preferring demons herself. And … Camila wasn’t the only one who seemed to like Ammon. Kueng spoke highly of him and she at least knew on a certain level that he was one of the heroes of the demon people for a good reason. She had to remind herself that it was her personal history … and a loathing that perhaps had come in sharing Dufaii’s soul … that put her at odds against Ammon.

Exousia let her anger simmer. However, she then realized that something else had stuck out to her about Camila’s story. After hesitating a moment, she asked, “You can … remember before you got a piece of Ammon’s soul?”

Without even a hesitation, Camila replied, “Yeah, everyone can. Well, except maybe some of the former junkies. Demon souls don’t affect your memory.” It was so … matter of fact. Like there was no question about the validity of the issue.

Exousia nearly pried more, but then felt a bit foolish. Maybe … her own memory loss had been because Dufaii’s soul exchange had been so much larger in scale? But then, in the stories, Dufaii and Ammon hadn’t lost their memories either. And this girl, she still seemed so human. Talking in human idioms, easily touching, walking around so care-free. It was like her own demonhood hadn’t affected her except for some minorly increased strengths, abilities, and sight into the supernatural realm.

“You … okay, Short Stuff?” Camila asked, glancing back at her with a slightly worried look.

Exousia realized that they had stopped. She shook her head firmly and replied, “I’m fine.” She pulled away from the girl to break away from the direct attention and her own painful introspection.

They had arrived at a field. It was somewhat dead looking, from the barely growing grass to the spindly excuses for trees. But what was more interesting were the series of boulders placed in a circle.

Exousia drew closer and saw that they all had writing on them. The characters were familiar, though not angelic, demon, or of any human language. It took Exousia a moment to realize where she had seen the writings. They’d been in a book about the elder gods–brethren of the Titans and all other second-generational deities that had come after the time of the primordials. According to Dufaii, the elder gods had ascended to the stars instead of waiting around to become vulnerable in their madness.

Exousia walked over so that she was in the shadow of the boulder with the largest beginning character. She was by no means fluent in the language of the elder gods, but she’d learned the basic alphabet and the words projected images in much the same way as the demon and angelic languages. She began to read aloud, “For … followers … call … time … of the godless,” she sounded out the inscriptions. As she did, a mental image appeared in her mind. A pink light, coming from the center of the boulders and shining up into the sky. Then dark tendrils …snaking down the clouds.

“Can we … not?” Camila asked.

Exousia was awakened from the vision … almost as if she’d fallen asleep entirely.

Camila was standing next to her, doubled over and clutching at her stomach. When she finally stood back up, her face looked … pained. Two streams of blood ran from her nose.

Exousia felt an uncharacteristic wave of concern. Without thinking, she discarded her hoodie and stuck her thumb into the belly of her own tee-shirt. In this way, she managed to rear a hole and then rip a string of fabric from it as she walked them both over to a large rock. Standing on it to make up for the differences in their heights, Exousia then took the fabric, used it to pinch Camila’s nostrils shut, and then gently tilted her head back.

After a minute or so, Camila reached up–her hand brushing against Exousia’s as she took over the task of pinching her own nose shut. After a moment, she smirked and looked out of the corner of her eye. “You know, you’re kind of cute getting all caring like this. Then again, the whole ‘I’m going to kill a demon’ thing was working for you too.”

Exousia looked away and scowled as her face again reddened. She decided that she needed to put up her mental barriers–yes, there was little doubt now that the older girl was using psychic abilities to sway her thoughts. As soon as these were in place, Exousia felt a tap on her shoulder; she turned around.

Camila was standing there, offering her green, flannel shirt. “There you go. Since yours is ripped and … bloody, now.”

Exousia wasn’t sure that she was going to take the shirt, at first. But then a thought occurred to her. What if by refusing, she revealed some of the same sorts of emotions that Kueng had warned her against? Well, she wasn’t going to let this other hybrid off-balance her further. Exousia took the shirt calmly and put it on over her ripped tee, noticing almost immediately that, while a bit oversized, it was warm … and carrying an oddly comforting scent.

“Now, let’s go meet everyone, Short Stuff,” Camila said and again took her hand.

Exousia’s mental barriers fell immediately.

-O-

For the next few weeks, Exousia spent her free time with the other hybrids, most of that with Camila. Of course, she still spent most meals with Ammon, and sparred at least once a day with him. As time went on, she became less and less afraid of the demon … until there was no longer any sense of dread when he was around. Really, there was no sense of dread at all. The other hybrids were as calm and nice as Camila. Everyone helped one another in this little home they had made for themselves. And, for the first time, Exousia did not feel like the only one of her kind.

Exousia almost caught herself smiling when she blurred her form, wove under a wooden sword, and then snuck her own wooden blade so that it was pressed against Ammon’s throat. Then, using the newest technique that he’d taught her, Exousia used an open palm to cut through the air. A silver light projected out just past her skin–nearly invisible. This was the light of her soul … by which she stood just inches away from cutting the demon’s heart out and ending him forever. However, she stopped just short.

“I’m impressed,” Ammon said and laughed as he rubbed his neck and then his sternum. “You may lack skill in checkers, but maybe I ought to avoid combat in our final confrontation, eh?”

At this, Exousia was instantly sobered from her brief instant of fun. This idyllic place in the woods, the kindness, the friendship. It all suddenly felt like a trap. Her smile fell, giving way to anger. She said, “I don’t know why I’m still here. Clearly, there’s something you want out of me that doesn’t involve checkers or swords.” She didn’t need to say directly the mystical boulders that had given her that vision.

Ammon gave a resigned sigh. “The beacon.”

Exousia nodded.

“It’s your … final test, actually,” Ammon said, seeming unusually reserved about the matter. “I’ll admit, I have been …. putting it off. It’s been nice–getting to really meet you away from the sordid matters that leave us at odds. But it’s past time we got to business.”

Exousia felt a strange … twinge of sadness at the demon’s words. But, like him, she knew what was at stake. So she bottled up the feelings and nodded resolutely.

“This test … it was originally a project I’d been working on,” Ammon said, his tone now factual. “I started on it after Dufaii and I finished off the deities of the lands that the humans currently call the Americas. I wanted to find those deities still hidden in the outskirts of existence.”

Exousia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean … you want me to …”

“Kill one,” Ammon said, and then raised his index finger. “The last active one. How better to demonstrate that we are on even ground than for you to destroy an enemy on the same level as those that I have? I’ve studied the stones for centuries … and the mystical link they have to the deity out there. Perhaps, if it had left without intention of ever returning, I would have left it to its eternal peace. However, it left with the intention of returning. I’ve seen into its thoughts. It has expended most its energy creating life on a planet of its own … having always planned to return here to replenish itself with the souls of mortals once all other divine threats were gone. It should be in perfect condition for our purposes.”

Exousia thought about this for a moment and finally said, “It seems … dangerous. Pulling a god into this world unnecessarily.”

Ammon nodded. Instead of countering, however, he reached into a pocket as he walked past and tossed one of his own red checkers to Exousia. Then he said, “It’s time for you to jump, dear nemesis of mine.” And then he began toward the stone pillars.

The various hybrids must have known that he was going–whether by secret communication or the conjoined wills of their matching souls. As one, they all exited their tents or stopped their daily tasks–donning black robes they’d kept nearby.

Camila walked over, also wearing a black robe of her own. Her wood-ax was swung over her shoulder impressively. She seemed … positively excited. “It’s finally happening!” she said, barely able to contain herself.

Exousia wrinkled her nose. Something didn’t feel right about all this … and the red checker she held in her hand made that feeling all the worse. She said, “I think maybe you and your people shouldn’t come.” She couldn’t help but remember Camila doubled over just from hearing the words on those stones read aloud.

“Ammon needs us for the summoning,” Camila replied, her lack of fear seeming to Exousia like a cause for concern. “I know, my body didn’t handle the magic well before. But I got Ammon to record some translations for all of us to listen to. Hardly any of us are bleeding at all anymore!”

Exousia stared at her doubtfully. She had a bad feeling. Perhaps it was … arrogant and maybe even conceited. But these hybrids–they seemed out of their depth. Of course, she was at least familiar enough with the nature of sentient beings to know that saying as much would only make the situation worse.

“Oh, don’t be so fussy, Short Stuff, this is a big day! Especially for you,” Camila said as she made her way toward the stones with everyone else.

Exousia followed, though she had not inwardly conceded her doubt. No, the danger she felt at the task at hand was only growing. For one of the first times that she could remember, Exousia felt … a growing sense of terror within. Were in not her vice-like grip of her own emotions, she might have been trembling. However, this was the path forward. Ammon had placed a checker piece in her path, and her role was to take it–the rules of the game were absolutely clear on the matter.

It wasn’t long before they reached the clearing. The hybrids began to line up between the stones.

Ammon beckoned her.

Exousia sighed and took her place beside him.

Camila walked over briefly and whispered into her ear, “You’ve got this,” before unexpectedly planting a kiss on her cheek.

Overwhelmed by the sensation and by the overwhelming emotions within, Exousia turned with lightning reflexes and grabbed Camila’s hand. Not knowing what to say, she projected all her worry, all her care, and everything she could to the older girl–shedding all her mental barriers so her thoughts would be crystal clear.

However, Camila just smiled and repeated, “You’ve got this, Short Stuff,” before joining the other hybrids in the circle.

Exousia forced her eyes shut for a moment, rebuilding her psychic defenses along with an overwhelming feeling of having lost. When everyone became absolutely silent, she again opened her eyes.

“My friends,” Ammon said, his voice now projected out for all to hear. “We now summon the immortal one–a being who has suffered its madness for far too long. It will be dangerous. There is no telling what has become of the mind of a deity so long after all of its kind has gone extinct. But in destroying it, we will take another step toward freedom for demonkind, as well as for those mortal souls still bound to the Creator in eternity.”

All the hybrids just stared eagerly with grins on their faces and eyes that revealed hearts full of duty, unity, and importance.

“If you will … repeat after me,” Ammon said.

Exousia heard the words that came next, yet they seemed to come from another place. Had this been what it had been like when she had spoken them–her lips not matching the sounds they made? What was more, the syllables were almost immediately drowned out by their meaning–burning like a pyre in her mind.

“Ancient one, we call you. The lesser gods are no more. Take us for your nourishment and reign forever.” These were the meanings that the alien words placed in Exousia’s mind. It was what Ammon was speaking, and what the hybrids were repeating.

Exousia said nothing as the rhythm tried to burrow its way deep into her thoughts. Instead, she used every ounce of her mental fortitude to push the sounds from her mind. On a primal level, all she could think was … she didn’t want the words there in her mind, they didn’t belong there. At first, this did nothing to help. Her own mind began to repeat the words of the chant–begging her to join in.

But in her resistance, almost as if by chance, a memory impaled her thoughts like a knife through skin. It was of Kueng … only a few weeks ago. He’d taken that which had meant most to Exousia … destroyed it … and stolen the pieces. That knife had meant … so much. It was the promise her true father had made to her. It was the physical assurance that she would never go back to the hollow shell of the life she could not even remember. Without that promise, she now felt … so entirely alone.

The pain of loss filled Exousia–breaking through like a fog-light. Suddenly, she was able to see.

The hybrids were all still chanting … but something was wrong.

Immediately, she fixed her sights on Camila. The older girl’s lower eyelid began to bulge, and then something touched her eyeball. It looked like … a parasite–black, slimy, and long like something between a leech and a tapeworm. It poked out from directly under her eye. Soon, another poked out from underneath her upper eyelid … and then from her opposite eye.

Exousia nearly vomited. She wanted to run and save the older girl. But she could sense these life-forms snaking throughout Camila’s body. There was … no telling how many of them were in her … or what all they had tangled themselves around as anchors. Ripping one out would just as likely bring an eye-socket, organ, or piece of brain matter with it. Only for another worm to take its place.

The other hybrids had the worms wriggling from their nostrils, their ears, their mouths … even ones breaking the skin to make their own ways out. As they rose from their hosts, the parasites rose into the air … in a way that resembled antennas. What was more, they genuinely did seem to be putting out a signal … a low hum. Barely audible to the ears but nearly visible as an aura, like a blinding beacon of pink light.

Exousia turned to Ammon–the demon had to stop this! It didn’t matter if she had to beg or fail his test. She would to make sure that Camila was out safely.

However, Ammon was in no position to listen. He too had the worms making their way out of his face. He did seem to resist at first, taking out his sword and chopping one in half. But the others adapted to his attacks, darting back into their burrows under his skin whenever he swung or reached at them. There were far more sticking out of him than for any of the hybrids, making him look almost as if long black hair were growing out of his entire face. And soon, his body became stiff and responseless as all the others.

Exousia moved to take a step, but felt her foot brush up against something. She looked down and spotted another of the parasites. This one, however, was dried and shriveled. So this was what had been trying to control her thoughts … and it had died in her resistance to it.

As in the vision weeks before, the sky fell dark.

Exousia looked up to see a figure gently gliding down from the heavens. As it grew closer, the worms seemed to reach out further to meet them. Then Exousia noticed nearly invisible tendrils of darkness between the figure and the worms. The worms were not growing … they had always been attached to the figure by the invisible tethers. The tethers were simply becoming more solid and thick as the figure descended to the ground.

Now the figure was fully visible … for, at least, what little there was to see. Whatever physical attributes it could have had were only smoke–making the general outline of a person. “My followers … my body,” they said, speaking the same hypnotic language in whispers.

Then, all the hybrids were lifted into the air–suspended just over the ground. Their motionless forms were brought closer to the figure as the worms became more substantial.

The closest two hybrids were brought under the hovering figure, dangling like marionettes.Then, Camila and Ammon were dragged to the figure’s sides. More worms from within them shifted visibly … burrowing out of their sides and shoulders. These worms seemed sleeker and more solid–not connecting to anything but instead curving in rows of four. They looked like … claws … with the bodies of Camila and Ammon serving as the palms of enormous hands. The rest of the hybrids were arranged in a line behind it … like an enormous tail of flesh and tendrils.

For several moments, Exousia could only look on with horror. No! She couldn’t afford to let her fear control her now, not after all she’d gone through. She tore her gaze away and steeled her heart. Looking around, she spotted something. Camila’s ax … still resting against the carved boulder where she’d been standing in the circle. Exousia made a mad dash for it, reaching the weapon in the chaos.

However, the figure spoke again. “You are no follower.”

Exousia looked up just in time to see the tail rushing at her. But it wasn’t just a tail … it was a line of people she knew, the only beings in the world like her, sprinting forward with vacant looks on their faces. She swung her borrowed weapon at the worms, but the ax just glanced off them uselessly like the hardest of wood. Both the bodies of the connecting worms and the fists of the hybrids on either side then hit Exousia–striking her midsection, shoulder and jaw. The conjoined blows sent her flying backwards, barely managing to hold onto her weapon.

“Food … trying to devour its devourer,” the figure whispered, seemingly for their own benefit.

Exousia stood up, blood dripping from a cut on her cheek, and snarled. However, her rage was mostly a mental trick to motivate herself at this point. She had no idea what to do. She was meant to have defeated this ancient deity with Ammon at her side. Now she was all alone while her enemy had connected itself to all of them.

Oddly, Exousia found her mind latched onto this last thought. Solitude … it had always been her strength. The strength by which she had defeated an entire squad of angels. Whereas their so-called strength had led to their fall! Exousia looked up at the hybrids and, with her eyes, followed the tendrils to their source. Each of them, without fail, ended up connected at the figure’s chest. They were connected to its soul … no doubt by their own souls. It was why the worms had burrowed under their skin.

Suddenly, the world felt much colder.

Exousia knew what she had to to. It was her turn to whisper in the language of the elder gods, “If I am food, it is only that which has been poisoned by those that would have you dead, highness.”

In response, the figure again let loose its tail of sprinting, mind-controlled beings.

Exousia grit her teeth … raised her ax … and carved through a hybrid man with all her superhuman might. Only at the last moment did the horror of what had happened register on the face of the man who had once been the baker. Blood rained and pooled on the ground, and black worms writhed helpless within the gore.

But Exousia was not finished. One by one, she cleaved through each of her kind. Removing the head of the woman who had kept the records of her found-family’s adventures. Cutting through the midsection of the individual who had helped nurse Exousia back to health. Splitting down the middle the skull of the man who always gave a friendly wave while working on the vehicles. It didn’t take long to kill all the hybrids that had been the tail–leaving the worms to dry up without their hosts. Even so, it felt like hours–colors and sounds of gore turning almost into a mesmerizing mix of sensations like thickly poured molasses. First, destroying the tail … and then the marionette-like “feet”.

Finally, the smokey figure glided to the ground. Oddly, it emitted no emotional response. No anger, no fear. If anything … only a curiosity. It said, “They see. Your teacher, your friend, those who saw you as one of their own. They see and they feel all that you do.”

Exousia grit her jaw and let out a rage-filled scream that further darkened the sky almost as much as the elder god had. Her eyes black, she marched forward.

Ammon was before her. His sword in his grasp, he swung at her. The attack was slow compared to what the demon would have been capable of at full strength.

Exousia merely pulled her head to the side–hearing the sound of the soul-weapon cutting through the air just past her ear. She turned on a foot, creating the fullest arc possible for the path of the ax. It embedded in the back of Ammon’s neck and stuck there. She released the weapon instead of taking the time to pull it free.

All that was left between herself and the smoke figure was Camila. In an act of utmost cruelty, the trance had been broken. However, Camila seemed to have only control of her head. Her body rushed forward, razorlike tendrils poking out from her ribs. “Please! Please help me, please!” she said, tears streaming from her eyes.

Exousia was thrown off … just enough for the claws to catch her arm and tear deep into her flesh. But she then used their pulling momentum to step in close Silvery light glowing just past her hand, Exousia reached out just as she found herself face to face with the older girl whose face was a contorted mix of confusion, pain, and betrayal.

Exousia had a hold of her still-beating heart, literally. But she had cut into something deeper, the soul itself. She felt it, as well as the worms wriggling from their anchor within. What was more, she felt she … understood this magic just as she had the spell of the old woman with the gold. Perhaps one day, she could even reproduce it, but not now.

With a nauseous and hollow numbness overtaking her, Exousia tightened her grip and pulled. Crushing the little organ and taking hold of the largest tendril to have wormed its way within. She continued to pull, hand over hand, letting the girl fall to a crumpled heap at her feet.

At this, the figure began to fight back sincerely–writhing and trying to pull away and back into the sky. Of course. It had used its power for whatever atrocities it had created beyond the stars. It was why it had used its “followers” as a body.

Exousia pulled it like a kite or a fish on a line … until it was directly before her. Then, with a silver glimmer past her hand, she cut open its breast. To first release the souls it had bound itself to … and then to release it to return to the Creator.

All was quiet. The supernatural darkness, like clouds, parted–revealing the sunlight.

Exousia looked around. All that was left around her were bodies … the remains of worms already turning to dust … and a field that had once been dead now green and full of life. Ammon was stirring, though it would be days before his body mended itself fully. As for the hybrids, they were gone.

Exousia began to walk, numbly and quietly.

-O-

Seconds turned to minutes,

turned to hours,

turned to a couple days.

Trees,

roads,

a bus,

frightened stares,

a familiar forest,

a familiar cave in the distance.

Dufaii seemed to sense Exousia before she could make her presence known. Taking flight, he glided swiftly to her and wrapped his arms around her. “Exousia? Exousia!”

Exousia wanted to respond. No, more than anything, she wanted to sob into Dufaii’s shoulder. But she felt … only an overbearing and all-consuming numbness.