they are not tall. Its gates have more wood than iron. Do you see its castle? There are many windows, and through each one will fly a demon of Thulos. There are thousands sheltered before you, huddled together in their homes and sleeping close to dwindling fires. Do you know what will happen to them? To every… single… one?”
Jerico fought to look away, but he could not. Velixar latched onto his face with his frozen hands. His stomach lurched at his touch. Jerico looked upon the city as Velixar hovered within his vision, his eyes burning, his mouth scowling.
“They will die,” Velixar said. “And they will serve me. It is inevitable. This whole world will soon share its fate. I will be a god, for what else would I be when every living thing obeys my command? I will build a tower of flesh and bone, whose very walls will shift and wail. My throne will be the twisted spines of a thousand children. To your god, I am the greatest abomination, a creation so vile and sinful your soul aches in my presence.”
“Why am I here?” Jerico asked, his voice shaking. The cold was returning, and Velixar seemed to have no intention to rekindle the warmth that had awoken in his breast.
“Answer me this question,” Velixar said. “Tell me truthfully and I will let you go free. You may warn the people of the city, or perhaps flee like a coward and leave them to their fate. I don’t care. All I want is my answer. Do you disagree with all I have said? Do you disagree with what I know I am?”
Jerico looked to the city, seeing hundreds of torches and fires, just tiny dots in the distance. So many lives within. So many to die.
“You are what you say,” Jerico said. “A most hideous abomination.”
Velixar laughed, as if he took pride in the label.
“Then why? ” he asked. “Why does Ashhur let me live? Protector of the weak, slayer of the darkness, beacon to the lost… why do I still walk this earth to mock your god? Why will that city die, even though you say Ashhur will weep for its destruction?”
He lifted his arms, his palms open in worship toward the heavens.
“Strike me with lightning,” he cried. “Burn me with fire! Send down your wrath, Ashhur! In the open I am, and I call your power false. Will you endure such blasphemy? Kill me! Give me peace in death, and an eternity in my god’s bosom.”
The snow fell, and other than a soft gust of wind, the night remained silent.
“You have heard me,” Velixar said, turning toward the paladin, who had fallen to his knees, clutching his arms to his chest and rubbing them for warmth. “What is your answer?”
“I have none,” Jerico said. “For my heart wishes for lightning and fire from the heavens. I would give anything to see you burn.”
“You don’t know,” Velixar said, shaking his head. “You have no answer for me, yet you still cling to him in faith. Why? I don’t understand.”
“Because your words are empty,” Jerico said. He closed his eyes, summoning the memories of a hundred people in prayer he had knelt beside. “No matter the death you spread, I have seen souls give of themselves for an eternity of joy. I have seen grace strike down the evilest of men and turn them into something pure. Burn this world to ash. We’re here for only a little while. This is not our home.”
Velixar laughed.
“You say that?” he asked, grabbing Jerico by the neck and lifting him so they could stare eye to eye. “Such confidence. Such lying. You think what I do will have no effect on your faith, my actions no bearing on your meager justifications of your religion? You are in for a fall, paladin. Your faith is glass, and I am the hammer. When you break, I will be there. When you finally surrender, when you are ready to accept a faith that has meaning in this wretched world, I will be waiting.”
“I hope you’re prepared for a very long wait,” said Jerico.
Velixar’s grip tightened around his neck. Spots swirled before his eyes as his heart pounded in his chest.
“I have lived for centuries,” Velixar said. “To see a paladin such as you broken would be one of my greatest triumphs. I will wait as long as it takes.”
Tighter and tighter. Jerico felt his legs go limp. His body hung lifeless from that single strong hand. Darkness overtook him. Just before it did, just as his vision was a swirling chaos of red and yellow, he heard Velixar’s mocking laughter. It continued on and on into the foggy state his mind succumbed to, laughing. Laughing and condemning.
When he awoke, he was beside a healthy fire. Tessanna sat nearby, her legs crossed and her dagger slowly tracing runes into her skin. He grunted as pain sprang to life in a hundred places throughout his body. Every breath seemed to cause him terrible pain.
“You’re awake,” Tessanna said, her voice quiet but happy. No doubt the carving of runes was a large reason for that.
“Seems like it,” Jerico said, putting a hand over his eyes and praying to Ashhur for strength. The words felt hollow, but he forced through them anyway. At last he pulled his hand away to see Tessanna standing over him, a curious look on her face.
“What did he speak to you of?” she asked.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Jerico sighed.
“The usual. I’m dirt. He’s a god. Karak’s the only truth. I’ve heard it all before.” He chuckled. “Must admit, he’s found damn good ways to retell it.”
Tessanna handed him a small piece of the demons’ meat rations. He accepted it, thanked her, and then took a bite. The girl watched him eat, her arm out and dripping blood onto the fire.
“He wants you brought to him when we start the siege,” she said. “I don’t know why. I think he’s to make you watch. Many will die today.”
“Innocent life,” Jerico said as he winced through a swallow of the dry, salty meat. “You know that as well as I.”
“Does it matter?” Tessanna asked. “Beauty is fading from this world. I want away, to escape from all this. Let them die and go to Ashhur, if his eternity is so bright and pure.”
“You don’t believe that,” Jerico insisted.
Tessanna smiled sadly.
“What I believe doesn’t matter. Qurrah is all that matters. And my child. My daughter. I’ve decided a name for her, Teralyn. A pretty name, don’t you think?”
“It is beautiful,” Jerico said. “Though I weep for the world you will birth her into.”
Tessanna’s shy happiness faded at that. With cold eyes, she yanked him to his feet and shoved him westward.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Velixar is waiting.”
She led the way, glancing back occasionally to make sure he followed. The camp was surprisingly vacant. Jerico rubbed his arms and wished for something warmer for his feet than his broken boots. The army’s tents remained pitched, little banners at their tip waving gently in the soft breeze. The great city was much easier to see with the snowfall ended. War demons flew about, forming their own cloud above the city. The undead had already marched as well, forming a dead black line beyond the walls. Scattered among them were the tested, shouting songs to Karak in their fervent joy.
Standing alone, watching the coming battle from atop a hill overlooking the city, was Velixar.
“Where is Qurrah?” asked Tessanna as they approached.
“He has joined the priests in sundering the walls below,” Velixar said, his gaze lingering on the city. He glanced over at the paladin. “He carries my most important orders. Jerico has proven stubborn, but today, I believe he will finally see reason.”
“Good luck with that,” Jerico said, hopping up and down to increase his circulation. He thought of asking for a fire, but given who stood with him, he decided the risk too great they would set him afire instead of a nearby pile of wood. Tessanna stood beside Velixar and pointed to where the priests gathered.
“Is that where Qurrah is?” she asked. Velixar nodded.
“They will frighten the city, then break its walls so my undead may enter.” He pointed to a distant hill, long and sloped and covered with snow, “There is where Krieger hides with his paladin brethren. When the undead have softened the defenses, they will storm through.”
