Murder the Heroes

Chapter Two; Section Two

“Awaken.” So she did. She opened her eyes – dust slid down her face, cobwebs broke, an insect scuttled away. The darkness remained, but that didn’t bother her. She extended her Othersight. Somewhere, nearby, something was happening. Magic, by the feel of it, though what else could it really be? Nothing came down here without magic. And this wasn’t much; but a pin prick. It had got far, considering how weak it was. But that shouldn’t have woken her. It wouldn’t get much further. Her pretty would make sure of that. Besides, she’d sensed far greater happenings over the years. Those hadn’t raised her from her slumber. Not completely. This couldn’t be why she’d woken, that much was certain.

Was it time?

She tried to move, but found herself restrained, enchained, imprisoned. That didn’t bother her either. She flexed her mind. Her bonds exploded outwards. Stone shards the size of wizard’s tomes crashed smashed into walls. She rose. But not like any living thing, not by use of her muscles. They weren’t usable. They had atrophied. No, she rose by magical means alone, like a plank, being tipped on end without anything visible doing the tipping.

Her arms unfolded – chains burst and links bounced away, the metal links ringing like dropped coins as they skipped across the stone floor. Her senses unfolded further. She was underground, in a tiny room, at the end of a maze, guarded by dead ends, illusions, traps and monsters. Above her there were several thousand tons of stones. It was a burial chamber, nothing more, nothing less. Her burial chamber. And it had remained undisturbed all this time. As it had been intended. As it had been designed.

More than magic protected this place.

“Save him.” So she did. She turned, lifted and floated. Stone door after stone door exploded outwards as she came upon them. A trap fired. Bolts of Cold metal imbedded themselves in her flesh. She plucked them out. They clanged off the floor. She waved her hand. All the traps that had stopped untold generations of grave robbers triggered at once and fell silent for evermore.

Onwards she went, out and up, through chamber after chamber of now spent protective wards and devices. It didn’t bother her that she had been awakened. It didn’t bother her that she now destroyed the very place that had guarded her and kept her safe. All was as it should be. Of that much she was certain.

She came to a large chamber, held aloft by countless pillars that marched away in all directions. An army could have camped in here. She recognised it. It was the nesting place of her beauty. Her precious had been busy. Scattered about the room were the corpses of grave robbers, frozen in their final moments. Their face contorted by the pain of dying without souls.

Here was where the dot of magic was to be found. Where had it gone? Ah, there she sensed it. A shimmer of magic. A figure dashing sideways, pursued by a beast of shadow and death. She cooed. The beast stopped mid lunge and turned, hissed, screamed. She came towards it. “Come to me, my pretty,” She whispered to it. Her voice was dust, it was rocks, it was the grinding of the earth as it spun upon its axis. It hissed again, shook its head. Then it turned away from her and lunged after the fragile magical thing, the mortal intruder in her realm. It connected. Waves of darkness, gnashing teeth and razor-sharp claws struck at the figure’s feeble defences.

It was too much. Wards flickered and died and the figure was sent tumbling away. The beast roared triumphantly. For the first time since she’d awakened she felt something else than contentment. She felt shock. What was this? Her creation ignored her? How could that be?

Very well, if it would not listen to seduction, then it must listen to pain. She raised her hand, twisted open her gateway. Unformed power poured from his fingertips, smashing into the beast, sending it careening away. It rolled, but immediately leapt back to its feet, not even stunned by the blast of power. It screamed its rage – a cloud of deathly vapours capable of rotting the flesh of the living shot from its nostrils and roiled towards her.

But she was no living thing and thus only laughed when its breath washed over her. Maybe its imprisonment had made it stupid?

It had certainly made it ferocious. Upon seeing her still standing it hurled itself forward. It should have shaken the stones with its massive gait. Instead not even a speck of dust shifted as it came. Again she called to it, “Come my pretty, kneel at your mistress’ feet.” Again it screamed its defiance.

Did it not recognise her? It came on, its teeth longer than her limbs, it’s body shifthing and phasing between realities. It was a creature of shadow and suffering. It had been dead – like her – for an eon, but while she had slumbered, she now realised, it had hungered, and slavered, and gone insane. So much so that it no longer recognise the one it had been set to guard.

She felt a third emotion – disappointment. This was unfortunate. She had cared for this creature, in her way. Still, when nothing can be done, nothing can be done. She raised her hands, splayed her fingers and with another word pulled down the very roof. Pillars crumbled, stones cracked and the beast was buried under an avalanche of rocks the size of houses.

That should give it pause.

As it shrugged off the rocks, it was slower, more weary, but it wasn’t done for. Not this creature of death and agony. Contenders had died by its claws. Want-to-be Gods had succumbed to its fangs. It would not be felled by a few rocks. It exhaled again – death and dark fire.

Again she let it wash over her. That it did not know her anymore was one thing, but did it not even understand what she was? Apparently not. If that was the case then it truly was lost to her. So be it. She kneeled and sunk one hand into the stone. It parted like water. She wove her spell and as she rose she now held a blade, made of magic and marble. It gleamed in the absolute darkness – as if the moon shone along its length. And it did, of course. It just wasn’t a moon of this world – it was light cast through her gateway. She muttered another spell and blue glowing runes ran along the stone. Now she was ready.

“Come on, my sweet, I know you are tired, come and claim your reward, come claim your rest.” Maybe it understood her, maybe it remembered, or maybe it was just chance, but it screeched, it lunged, it came on.

She was ready. All it took was one blow of the blade – a blow that shattered stone and bone alike. The beast’s advance was arrested. Its attack stopped. Its watch ended. It seemed pathetically grateful as the force behind its eyes flickered out. She only felt sadness – a fourth emotion since she’d awakened. She had, she reflected, quite forgotten the emotional rollercoaster that consciousness was.

She stood over it, for a time. She would have had uses for it if she could have kept it alive. She wondered if she could have done anything different. But no, such thoughts were pointless. She was weak, she needed to regain her strength, she couldn’t have brought the beast to heel in the state she was in.

She turned towards the stink of desperate fear. “You are safe now, interloper.” She told it.

“By the Gods, what just happened?”

“Did you not see?”

“How can I see a thing?”

“Ah, yes.” Mortals and their shortcomings. She raised a hand and blue light spilled forth. There was a gasp of horror. She looked at the figure on the ground, even as it tried to crawl away. A scarred hand with three fingers was held up between them, as if it would offer some kind of protection!

“What are you?” The creature demanded.

“I am Death, I am Liberty. You?”

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