Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III

After Exousia’s initial jump over the crowd, she kept low and forced her way against the other shuffling bodies toward the demon that had beckoned her. Eventually, she got past them and to a little crevice that was formed behind a wall. The demon who had summoned her smiled with genuine delight, and then reached down to pull her up to a ledge that would have been impossible to climb alone. He was a small creature that bore a striking resemblance to a beetle. His head was round, adorned with oversized black eyes, mandibles beside his large mouth, and small horns that jutted from his head like little armored spikes. He was hunched over with a shell on his back, which no doubt shielded a pair of wings. He had four arms with barbed elbows and his similarly-spiked legs were strapped with a four-set of daggers. The surface of his body was a shiny black exoskeleton with a luminescent purple sheen.

Exousia didn’t know what to say to the demon at first. She realized that she’d never really interacted with a common demon … one who wasn’t some sort of high-ranking warrior, messenger, or assassin. And Dufaii had admittedly been away from Hell too long to speak about the people there with any degree of familiarity. Exousia tried looking the demon in the eye with a deadened expression of respect, as she’d done in the past.

In response, the demon cackled with delight. “The stories about you are true! I always believed them, mind you. Some people said that there was no way that a human could hide thoughts from a demon. I told them that they were wrong … and stupid. Wrong and stupid! Maybe most humans can’t, but most humans weren’t trained by the Godkiller!”

“I’m … not a human,” Exousia replied, feeling caught off-guard by the demon’s demeanor. Her words came out hoarse from thirst. “I’m Exousia.”

“Of course!” the demon said, shaking his head before giving it a sharp slap with one of his four hands. “I’m Weeja, but my friends call me Roach. Well, I say my friends but mostly acquaintances, superiors, inferiors, and anyone else I meet. Even people who haven’t met me …”

“Ouija like the human game?” Exousia asked. She had come across a few boards used by both spiritualist pilgrims and amateur cultists. They didn’t seem to have any power of their own, though he’d heard rumors that occasional trickster spirits would use them to toy with humans. And Dufaii … well, he tended to cringe when any demon relation to the game was brought into question.

“Different spelling … but I’m good with Roach,” Roach replied and shuddered a little bit at the mention. “Lots of us know about you, Exousia. There’s lots of talk about the Woodcutter, the rebel Champion of Heaven.”

“Have you spent much time in the mortal realm?” Exousia asked, noticing his oddly human-like way of speaking.

“I read a lot,” Roach replied excitedly. “The library had a lot of records on human behavior, events, and culture. Lot’s of it is just pages after pages of your human internet.”

“Ah,” Exousia said, finding it difficult to respond to this sort of casual conversation. She tried to think of a way to curb the conversation back to the moment–to why and how Roach had found her. More importantly, she needed information about the demons who had spotted her. If they came from Ammon, then she needed to find them and go with them. That was what she wanted to do, wasn’t it?

Like before, the voices of condemnation whispered doubts into Exousia’s mind. She tried to push them away but … the levels of exhaustion this place had left her in was too much. Exousia could not help but wonder if trying to involve herself in this war would be worth it. She’d failed the Challenge, she’d failed Dufaii, she’d failed … so much. A part of her felt she deserved to just wander into the darkness and for her mind become consumed by the memories and the emptiness inside. And … that same part of her now wished that death had been the end of her life-long struggle against the impossible.

“Hey … is the weather down here getting to you?” Roach asked, knocking her in the hip with an elbow which was as high as he could reach.

Exousia simply stared in reply, feeling lost and unsure of how to find her way back to the present.

Roach just shrugged. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. This place was set up to make us feel like that. My advice? Don’t fight it.”

“Don’t fight it?” Exousia asked, furrowing her brow in a doubtful expression.

Roach nodded. “It doesn’t stop. So putting up a fight just wears you down. I mean, some people will disagree with me, but I say that if a guest shows up uninvited, might as well crack open some drinks and have a good time. Oh! I’ve got a song that’ll help!”

Exousia opened her mouth to stop him but it was far too late.

With incredible flexibility, Roach lifted one of his legs and ran in against a now-exposed insect-like wing. The result sounded like a cross between a cricket’s chirp and a violin. He cleared his throat and began a surprisingly upbeat melody.

“To the thoughts that tell me, I’d be better off dead.

To the fucked up visions, inside of my head.

You’ve clearly got issues, you need to work out.

So join me, my dear friends, in this epic hangout …”

Exousia looked around, not sure what she was expecting to see. Of all the things, she’d expected from a realm of torment, maybe it being a musical should have been expected?

Roach then tapped his chitinous feet against the rock, quickened the rhythm of the music, and belted out:

“Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party, all the stupid thoughts in my head.

“Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party, all the scary thoughts in my head.

Cheers to Shame, of all I wish I was not!

Drinks for Guilt, for the mistakes I never forgot!

Terror is a hottie, in a bikini at this party!

And Depression’s on a mission to get in my panties!

“Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party, all the stupid thoughts in my head.

“Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party! Welcome to the party, all the scary thoughts in my head.”

At the crescendo of his number, roach ran and slid along the dusty, rocky ground, snapped his fingers on all four of his hands, and pointed them all at Exousia, as if to beckon her to sing along.

“I don’t sing,” Exousia said.

Roach shrugged and replied, “Fair enough,” as he stood and dusted himself off.

“Though,” Exousia said, lifting a hand. “The topic of your song has given me a strategy to consider in dealing with the voices of condemnation. I will try.”

At this, Roach smiled. “What you need is a drink and maybe some more songs. You can never underestimate the power of having a silly good time, especially with … yeah … the voices.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Exousia said and then released a heavy sigh. “But there’s somewhere I have to go. I saw some of the followers of Ammon. When I … died … he told me to find him here. So that’s what I intend to do–to prepare for the coming war.”

“Oh …” Roach said, frowning and shifting his weight uncomfortably between his legs. “Kind of awkward, but … Ammon … kind of mentioned you as well. I mean, he’s talked about you so favorably in the past. But this time, he kind of, sort of, instructed his followers to bring him your head.”

“Excuse me?” Exousia replied, not sure she’d heard correctly.

“Well, I mean, you’re technically already dead,” Roach said and bobbed his head admittingly. “But his plan is now to cut you into tiny little pieces and scatter them to the deepest reaches of Hell, wherever they happen to be. There was talk about giving a handful of … you … to a hundred different humans to eat, and then throwing those humans into dark caves from which they can wander endlessly and never escape. I mean, I think it’s overdoing it.”

Had Ammon’s final words all been a trick? Or had something changed? Exousia tried to remember her last moment alive and in the mortal realm. Just before Ammon had killed her, he’d told her to will her way into Hell. And that … she should find him, because her part in this was not finished. But then … the Madness had taken over. Had it never relinquished control of him after? With all the many souls having worked together to destroy their enemy, maybe they had become united. Maybe their lingering loathing towards Exousia was driving them to finish the job. It was the only possibility that made sense.

Roach tapped a finger against his chin. “After he won the Challenge, he got a little blood-thirsty. A few of the more passive demons who used to support him have withdrawn their support. Rumor has it that he’s attacked them.”

Exousia shook her head and said, “I have to find him, then, and figure this thing out.”

“Oh!” Roach said and opened his eyes wide, as if remembering something. “She said that if you said that, I was supposed to tell you that she can help.”

“She?” Exousia asked.

Roach slapped his head again and said, “Right! Pronoun game, my bad! Uh, yeah, Hades sent me. She’d be so mad if she knew I forgot that part, so let’s not mention it okay? She almost sent someone else, someone she said was more ‘intelligent’ and ‘capable’ and ‘possessing a basic level of demon nobility.’ But I told her I knew a secret passage to smuggle you out of here! I know this place like the back of my claws. And so she said-” He continued to ramble on like this for a while.

But Exousia was no longer listening. She had been summoned by the leader of demonkind. Hades had led in the Rebellion, had overseen the creation of Hell into a serious force of power apart from the Lightbringer, and had maintained a diplomatic relation with the Lightbringer despite their insanity. If there was anyone who Exousia thought she could aid in preparation for what was ahead, it was General Hades.

“Moral of the story,” Roach said, seeming to conclude his long-winded story. “If you plan on seeking employment from General Hades after having accidentally enabled a human revolt to storm her palace, you’d better have something worthwhile to offer.”

Exousia just stared at him for a moment, completely unsure how to take this demon. A part of her was tempted to try her luck alone. But … Roach had managed to find her before Ammon’s followers had. So, perhaps patience was the best course of action for now, even if she felt a bit … disappointed by meeting this first of the people she’d always claimed as her own. Finally, Exousia said, “I will follow you there, then.”

Roach’s eyes brightened again. “Trust me, we are going to have a fun journey. I’ll take you on the sightseeing route. And when we get to the city, we can stop for drinks! By the by, I did bring you a few things for the trip.” He lifted one of the shells, which did in fact hide four thin black wings, and removed several articles of clothing.

Exousia took them and nodded in appreciation for the unexpected thoughtfulness. It didn’t take her long to discard the rags she’d been wearing in favor of a set of black robes, cape, and cowl, as well as a pair of leather shoes. She, of course, knew what these were made out of, but had determined not to let it bother her. Instead, she pulled the hood over her head to hide her face and nodded her appreaciation.

Roach looked quite pleased with himself after that and practically bounced as he began to crawl up the wall and towards a dark crevice that was almost invisible in the torch-light of the cave. Perhaps … he was more competent than he seemed.

-O-

Dufaii led the human … who he knew from her thoughts to be called Megan … to a small pool of water. He sensed her following behind as he trekked without rest; to her credit, she did not slow down. While his plan to find Exousia did require human aid, there was a secondary motivation to why he had brought her. Dufaii wanted to know what had happened during the Challenge. In part, he thought that hearing about the events that took place might give him some clue as to where he could find Exousia. He’d been to Heaven before, after all. Maybe he’d said something or purposefully left some sort of clue. But also, Dufaii felt like he just needed to know what she had faced during her final hours. When she’d fought imminent defeat … alone.

“I thought we were going to find Exousia,” Megan said, her tone suspicious. She still carried the gun in her hand, as if afraid he would turn around and attack her.

“We are,” Dufaii replied. “You’d be wise to hide that weapon of yours. Don’t use it unless you can get a clear shot to an unarmored head. Once they’re down, find a blunt object and bash their heads in further if you can.”

“You … want me to kill your people?” Megan asked.

“If you have to,” Dufaii replied. “More likely, you’ll be fighting angels. And neither us nor they truly die.”

Megan chewed on this for a while, like a piece of meat that was too tough to chew. After a while, however, her aura changed. Dufaii glanced back at her. There was a deep well of hate in those eyes. It wasn’t directed at him. But she hated something, and it seemed she wanted to find that something. Despite that, it still seemed as good a time as any to begin getting the information about what had happened.

Dufaii tried to begin with himself. He asked, “Did Exousia speak of me?”

Megan shook her head. This answer did not shock him. Then she said, “She mostly spoke about the Challenge. A little about a war, how it would destroy everyone. And … she talked about the monsters in the woods. She seemed to feel bad for them and didn’t want to fight them.”

Dufaii nodded; that all sounded right. When it came to Ammon, she was less impacted by rage than he was. Even after everything he’d put her through, Exousia still seemed to regard her nemesis highly. What was odd was that she had spoken to this human about any of it. Exousia did not reveal her inner world much around anyone, particularly human. Though she put up an air of indifference or aggression when it came to their kind, Dufaii had always suspected something more like fear. And how could she not fear them after all she’d gone through at the hands of her progenitors.

Megan spoke up again. “You’re the wolf she sent us with, aren’t you? I recognized the white markings in your eyes.”

Dufaii felt a strange tight feeling in his chest, a sadness. He nodded, and it felt a little too much like acknowledging fault. The two of them reached a small, stagnated pond. The water was brown and dead reeds floated over the top of it. Dufaii unsheathed his sword and cut a silvery portal through the water. He pointed at it and said, “We’ll have to search for Exousia based on what little we know of her time there. Most of her time was spent at the barracks, a training camp by the lake. She may be there. Alternatively, she may have gone to the mountains. There’s a cave there … which once housed a great monster. It could take weeks for you to find her, but we don’t have a lot of other options.”

Megan starred with her lips slightly parted at the portal in the water, the light of it glimmering in her eyes. “I’ll find her,” she said, seeming oddly sure of herself.

Dufaii nodded but, in truth, his hope was that Exousia would sense her, find her, and escape with her. He handed the human a sealed envelope. Inside of it was a demon-encoded letter with a series of locations he knew from scouting to have poor coverage from the guard. He then said, “I cannot tell you the contents of this letter, only that it is encoded.”

“Do you think I’d tell them anything?” Megan asked, almost as if it were a challenge.

Dufaii shook his head and replied, “If an angel spots you, they will read your mind and know everything that I’ve told you. So, keep your eyes hidden and trust nobody. And don’t communicate with the spirits of departed humans you may meet. Even if you trusted them in life, their souls are connected to that of the Creator. Whatever they know, she knows. That includes Exousia; so give her the instructions and get out fast.”

“And … what if I see the Creator?” Megan asked, her voice a little shaky at this. But then she placed a hand in her pocket where her gun was. The human did have some fight in her. “What do they look like?”

“Their forms are countless,” Dufaii said and shook his head. “When I first met her, they looked just like any other angel. Other times, they have become a warrior, a dove, or countless other things. No two angels know them the same way. But there is no point in trying to kill them. And you will not find them unless they choose to reveal themselves to you. If they do, we have failed.”

Megan nodded, seemingly for her own benefit, and then bounced a bit in place a bit like how Dufaii had seen some of the guard do before sparring. Then, she stepped into the water. The silver light engulfed her and then began to close.

Dufaii kept it open with his sword and then stepped through.

-O-

Exousia was relieved to find that the small tunnel she was forced to squeeze through was the last one of its size. It wasn’t that she had a problem with tight spaces, it was the jagged rocks that had cut into her hands as she crawled and occasionally climbed. She couldn’t imagine the agony that the first corrupted human souls had faced walking on the rock in the central tunnel, cutting their feet to ribbons for millennia before it had finally been pressed smooth from countless years of use. It was also unpleasant for the urine and fecal matter scattered along the ground, no doubt left by the abominations.

“Disgusting,” Roach said, shaking off one of his boots and then scraping matter from the bottom with a nearby rock. “I bet it makes you almost wish you had taken those other demons up on their offer. Sure, death was in the cards, but you wouldn’t have to deal with this smell.”

“Have you ever smelled a pile of rotting corpses rotting in a swamp shed for a few days?” Exousia asked, her face and tone humorless.

“Uh…” Roach said, his nostril twitching.

“It’s much worse than this,” Exousia continued, the thought of swamp humidity making her ongoing thirst painful. She coughed, and it felt like sandpaper grinding her throat.

“Try not to think about water until we get to the city,” Roach said, patting her on the back through her coughing fit. “Humans and demons both have lost their minds doing that. If it helps, you might concentrate on not stepping in shit.”

Exousia nodded and resisted the urge to clear her throat. This, on top of … welcoming … the voices of condemnation took up all the mental power she could afford. However, it did seem to help in both regards. Then she wondered about Dufaii … what he was doing now that she had failed to prevent war. Doubtless, he was hard at work preparing an assault against the Archangels, now unnecessarily weakened for having given up a piece of his soul for nothing.

“That’s the other thing you don’t want to do,” Roach said, having turned around. “Don’t get lost in your own head.”

“I thought you said to welcome the thoughts,” Exousia said, a little confused.

“Yes,” Roach said with a very full nod. “But … don’t dwell on them. Invite them in for a party, but remember that you’ve still got to be the designated driver. Rumination, stagnation, fuming, pouting, and memories are all the enemy here.”

“What’s wrong with remembering?” Exousia asked, noting how her own had dulled the agonizing passage of time when she’d first arrived. It had been like a draining sleep, and it beckoned her back still into the cold chill of its embrace.

“You’ll turn into a walking corpse,” Roach said. He stuck his arms out to mimic a corpse brought back by a novice necromancer, as amusingly portrayed in some human cinema. “It’s like a drug. The more you use it, the more you need it. Soon you’re sleeping and just shuffling around like an idiot until the thirst drives your brain into overload.”

“Understood,” Exousia said, focusing entirely on her hand placement for a bit. Then she asked, “Are there a lot of those? People who have lost themselves to their memories?”

“Demons, sure. But the corrupted souls get resourced pretty quickly,” Roach said and then winced apologetically. “You do know about that don’t you?”

Exousia nodded as she remembered the books of human skin.

“You just have to keep talking, like I do!” Roach chirped. “I mean, just look at me. Just in the last few months, I’ve fallen from a hundred-foot drop, busted my head like a melon, had my soul bitten to pieces by a yellow-eyed tumor, worked as a cleaner for this one place, was fired, worked as a cleaner for the Lightbringer’s bathrooms, was fired again, worked as a cleaner for the bathrooms at Hades’ palace, and was almost fired from that too! But I keep talking, and I keep my chin up. And, most importantly, I embrace the silly. Because of that, my mental health is the peak of what you will find around here. Never underestimate the power of silly.”

“Those yellow-eyed creatures,” Exousia said, no longer able to abide her curiosity. “What are they?”

“The tumors? Oh, well they’re the reason that demons specifically don’t want to go thirst-crazy or undead,” Roach said and gave a shiver. “You might have heard of the plague that’s been hitting us pretty hard down here. When this place becomes too much to handle, a demon’s soul just crumbles into pieces. And those disgusting yellow-eyes are what come next. That’s why they’re called tumors, they’re literally walking breathing growths from demons in bad states. Drinking blood helps and keeping focused on work helps. But … it doesn’t seem like it can go on forever.”

As if on cue, a yellow-eyed tumor that looked like a feathered rat appeared from the darkness. It glared at the intruders in its tunnel, as if deciding whether to be scared or hungry.

“Shoo!” Roach said, pulling back his leg as if he were going to punt it across the cave. The tumor squealed in terror and scurried back into the darkness. Roach then turned and said, “Just don’t let a pack of them catch you by yourself, unarmed. If they’re hungry or thirsty, they won’t even bother to take apart your soul before they get to chomping you down.”

Exousia nodded and remembered her knife. She still felt the full power of her demon soul within her, meaning that her weapon had dissipated and returned to her when she’d died. Exousia felt a moment of brief relief, followed by a sharp reminder of her failure. She thought about making a pocket knife like she’d had before. However, Exousia knew that the weapon wasn’t adequate. More than that, it was a memory that she knew she couldn’t afford. Just like she couldn’t afford to spend her energy wondering if she deserved the reminder of the gift Dufaii had given her. So, instead, she began to recreate her dagger in one of the pockets of her robe.

“We made it!” Roach said and began dashing towards an orange light at the end of the tunnel. Losing balance for a moment, he slid in filth and barely managed to keep his balance. After that, he slowed down until he was out of the tunnel.

Exousia promptly followed and stepped out of the cavern. Her eyes widened in wonder at the scene before her. It was the vast expanse of Hell, from the perspective of a mountain range Exousia found herself atop. The scene was cast in orange light, illuminating shadows over what looked like a few hundred square miles. The cave ceiling, thousands of feet above them, was covered in torches distantly flickering like stars. They were constellations that mimicked those in the old days of the Earth. Alone, these were enough to create a soft glow over the expansive land below, but there were torches and bonfires there too. Magnificent stalagmites rose from the ground in the far distance, opposite of intake, forming mountains. She knew from study that in those far mountains was the hidden entrance to the Lightbringer’s prison, as well as the only exit from the realm of the damned.

In between intake and the exit, there was a city that expanded from the center of the cavern to where it met a cave wall in the far west. It was illuminated with countless flames, sort of like a modern city. Massive towers were carved from the stalagmites, the stalactites, and the columns that met in between. It occurred to Exousia, who was familiar with caves, that without any water these wonders had to have been a result of whatever process had carved this rock prison from the ether. Adjacent to the city was a superhighway, where massive beasts and human slaves alike walked in organized lines. On the other side of the highway, there were scattered buildings and what looked like tiny villages.

“We’ll have to stay away from that area without an armed guard,” Roach said, looking out at the villages as well. “With corrupted humans in most of them and abominations scattered in-between, it ain’t a friendly neighborhood.”

Exousia nodded, unsure about how she felt about this. She knew what kinds of people the corrupted were. Given the opportunity, they would throw all of Hell into even greater chaos, and inflict greater suffering on their own kind than what they already endured. Still, it wasn’t easy to digest. Exousia distracted herself, going down a different line of inquiry. “Will we be going to Hades’ palace?”

Roach nodded and pointed one of his claws at a stone building that stood on the opposite side of the highway from the city, further north from the shanty towns. He said, “If we keep our heads low, we can make our way through the city, hit up a bar, maybe chat with some nice ladies, and then make our way there via the public road. Much safer than risking the direct route.”

“Won’t a demon recognize me?” Exousia asked.

“That the thing,” Roach said, grinning widely. “Nobody knows you’re here except the people who want to kill you and the people wanting you to work for them. I mean, yeah that sounds bad. But on the bright side, it makes travel easier. Most demons will be flying overhead anyways. And for those who don’t, your mental block means that you can easily convince them that you’re a demon.”

“What about my eyes?” Exousia asked. “Won’t they … think I’m a human?”

Roach lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

Exousia didn’t reply for a moment, she didn’t know how. She had an idea of why the demon seemed confused but was afraid of entertaining the hope. Exousia had to force herself to look into her own reflection through the demon’s thoughts. For the first time, she saw herself for who really was … eyes black with tiny white specks like scars. This stunned her for another moment, and she touched the skin under her eyes. From the time she was a child, she’d always dreamed of this. Now, the behavior of the demons and the humans in the tunnel all made sense. They’d seen her eyes too, her black eyes.

“You might want to stop batting you baby blacks for a moment,” Roach whispered frantically, bumping her with an elbow. He pointed upward, where four shadows were flying towards them.

Two of these shadows were burly creatures with massive wings needed to carry them. They were shaped like gorillas. With them was a wispy demon on thin wings, whose wrappings were like that of a mummy. And largest of all was a cyclops that looked like a giant man with an eye in the center of his forehead.

Exousia didn’t know the latter two, but she knew the battle sisters, Yana and Attel from the stories she’d heard and read when younger. They were two of the greatest fighters Hell had ever produced. Dufaii had said that one of them could stand blow to blow with Michael if they had wanted. Together, they were told to be an unstoppable force of raw power. Exousia’s initial instinct was to stand tall and be ready to greet these demons as a fellow soldier should.

“Look, I have total faith in you fighting pretty much any other demon,” Roach said, obviously misreading the situation. His face registered panic, though he was trying hard to stay calm and diplomatic. “But when you choose to fight the biggest of Ammon’s goons, I have to suggest that maybe cowardice is not as low a virtue as it might seem. Look, you can blame it on me, tell them I just really had to go to the bathroom. I mean, I’m practically dragging you away already.”

Exousia felt immediately deflated, realizing that these demons she’d grown up admiring were trying to kill her. She let herself be dragged in the opposite direction, down a treacherous path between a rock face and a several-hundred-foot cliff. Then she began to run, hearing the rustling of wings behind her.