26
The vision before Únik wavered and rippled, twisted and rolled. At once, the image of the most beautiful, radiant woman. The next, a man. Again the form changed to that of a great, bulbous and horrifying spider. Then to a shimmering, formless void, or was it a shining orb of light. Únik could not comprehend the many and varied, shifting forms, but, through all the changes, some things remained the same.
Whether the creature, this fallen Patron, held the form of a humanoid, or a spider, or a void, or light, eight arms, or legs, or tendrils of nothing, fingers of light, stretched out from their form pierced by eight, glowing, pulsating spears of energy that throbbed and crackled. Each time the figure moved, the energy spears would pulsate, vibrate and send energy into the creature, causing it to writhe and thrash.
For an immortal being beyond Únik's comprehension, the creature looked as though in terrible pain. Únik could only imagine what the creature suffered. For how long it had suffered so, down in the depths of the world. For centuries? For a thousand years, since the last Upheaval? For eternity?
"If you are, were, a Patron, how is it possible for you to be trapped here?" Hatyara also looked upon the creature with adulation and terror, tears streaming down her ice-blue cheeks, though she still spoke with a defiance that Únik lacked. "I ... I find it difficult to believe."
"The one you call Tismit Kha, Lord of the greatest and the smallest of the Heavenly bodies, laid me low for attempting to usurp his throne." The creature, Frianchenzer, appeared to slump, as though wracked with guilt, then rose up once more. "I thought myself powerful, many worshipped me, loved me and shared their strength with me. I thought myself great and mighty. But I found myself wanting and unworthy. Pinned to this world by pure Essence, never to rise again."
As though to emphasise the point, Frianchenzer flexed its limbs and the spears of energy flashed brighter than the Sun, though it did not damage the eyes of Únik, Shihiri or Hatyara. They could not turn away if they wished to, entranced by the majesty before them.
"'Pure Essence'? What is that? Some kind of magic?" Despite her bravado, Shihiri also wept. The image of Frianchenzer causing so many conflicting emotions within them all.
"Essence is magic! Magic is Essence! Do you know nothing, child?" The fallen Patron rose up above them, looking down without eyes or a face, imperious. God-like. "Essence is the remnants of the dead gods, Vaiah, the one that was many, felled in defence of this universe. What you mortals call 'magic' is the merest inkling of the power that we Patrons wield and that power but an infinitesimal fraction of the power of the gods! Magic? It is the power of creation! Of destruction! Essence is the universe and the universe is Essence!"
Once again, after those words, the creature appeared to slump. To fold itself inwards. To diminish. As though speaking so, in such a fashion about such immense things, had drawn all the energy from them. Únik felt a swell of pity for the creature. Why, she could not say, yet to see something of such power, of such magnitude, brought to this made Únik understand her own troubles, her mistakes, her failures, were nothing compared to this.
She stepped forward and realised she had regained control of her legs, the influence and control of Frianchenzer had gone. Reaching out a hand, Únik tried to touch the fallen Patron, but something stopped her. Her own fears, perhaps, or the thought of reverence? It was not a barrier, but her own hand that stopped.
To her side, she saw Shihiri and Hatyara realise they now controlled their own limbs. They both stepped back several feet until they came to the realisation that they still walked upon the bodies of the dead. Hatyara reached for Shihiri's arm, looking as though she were about to retch, her slippered feet skipping as she tried not to step on the upturned faces of the bodies beneath her feet.
"Tell me, Fallen One, how can we, mere mortals, kill a Patron?" Letting her hand fall, Únik reached to her belt, pulling out her knife and holding it up for the shapeless, endlessly shifting form of Frianchenzer to see. "I have only a knife. My friend only a sword. We are no mages and we have no weapons of power. You say you want us to kill you, end your suffering, but you are immortal, aren't you?"
"Perceptive." A something extended from the form of the Patron, the spears of Essence thrumming at the movement, stopping short of sending their energy coursing through the creature. All around, light began to flare beneath the bodies under their feet. "If it is weapons you require, then take them. A sword of gold, forged from the hair of a king. A spear that, when thrown, never misses its mark. A bow and a quiver of arrows that are ever replenished. Such are the toys of the past. Greater weapons have not been made for a thousand years."
At the mention of the bow, Shihiri's eyes began to search the glows that emanated from the bodies around them. None of them had seen the weapons, hidden beneath the carpet of the dead, now Shihiri searched, rummaging hands beneath corpses long since dead until she found the bow and its quiver.
Holding them in her hands, the Fae had a look of awe upon her face that bordered upon the hysterical. Gripping the shaft of the bow, she pulled back the string, bringing it to her cheek and then allowed the string to return to resting. She pulled out an arrow from the quiver, checking the fletchings and the head, nodding in appreciation. The bow looked like any other bow, to Únik. Not special, or intricate, but plain, if well made.
Shihiri attached the quiver to her belt, dropping her old quiver without a second thought. She attached the arrow to the bow string, drew it back and aimed high into the air, loosing and watching the arrow fly. The arrow travelled so high, Únik lost sight of it, unable to see it fall into the waters, far away. Shihiri whooped as she looked at her new quiver to find the arrow had returned to sit with the others.
"Right, Patron, I'll do it." With a renewed confidence, Shihiri stepped forward, taking an arrow from the quiver and nocking it to the string. "Tell me where to fire and you'll have your wish. It'll be something to brag about for the rest of my life."
Únik could not understand how brazen, how unconcerned Shihiri appeared. Not only at the idea of killing an immortal, but of where they were, what they stood upon. Nothing seemed to ruffle the Fae. Nothing at all. Here they stood, before a creature that was old before the first Upheaval, so many ages before, a creature of power and might, a creature that Únik held in awe, yet Shihiri seemed as unconcerned as though she were anywhere else. A tavern, a city street, out in the wilds. There seemed no difference.
"You think it that easy, amused child?" The creature shifted, as though looking down at Shihiri, towering above the Fae. "Were it so, any of my followers could have sent me to my rest. Tismit Kha, curse him and praise him, was no fool. My imprisonment would last many centuries until one pure of heart came to release me. Are you pure of heart, little Fae?"
Cocking her head to the side, Shihiri considered that, her mouth drooping as she thought. Then, with no warning, Shihiri drew her bow and loosed the arrow towards the pinned creature. The arrow flew with great speed, and straight towards Frianchenzer. The fallen Patron did not try to avoid the arrow and it passed through without causing a ripple, sailing out towards the lake and disappearing below the waters. Shihiri looked down to her quiver, watching the arrow reappear with the others.
"Apparently not." The Fae laughed, moved her arm through the string of the bow and hooked it over her head, resting it across her shoulder and her back. "But thanks for the bow. I don't think you'll find anyone pure of heart between us. Hatyara is ... well, she's far too arrogant and full of herself. And Únik? It's not my place to say, but she has a past."
"I'm sorry." Uncertain where to look upon the ever-shifting form of the creature, Únik felt even more sad. Frianchenzer had guided them all here for nothing.
"I am pure of heart! Confidence does not mean arrogance!" Stepping forward, Hatyara stood with her hands upon her hips, chin thrust forward as she looked up at the fallen Patron. She wavered in her confidence. "Though I know nothing of using weapons."
"Then use what you have been given. A raise of the hand and you could release me." Once again, turning and looking with eyes that were not eyes, from a face that was not a face, Frianchenzer gazed towards Hatyara. "If you are pure of heart, of course."
Hatyara's mouth opened. Her jaw moved up and down as though she fought to say something, but no words emerged. She looked towards Shihiri and then Únik, her face filled with fear, but, as she saw their faces looking back at her, she regained her confidence. Dipping her head, she looked to the bodies, searching for the glowing weapons.
Her small hand slipped between two of the corpses and emerged holding the strangest of swords. Long and thin, far more thin than any sword Únik had ever seen, it had a short handle, with what looked like an upturned metal cup as a guard and a thin crosspiece laid above that. Checking the weight of it, Hatyara swished the strange sword twice before stepping toward the shifting figure of Frianchenzer. She thrust the thin sword into the closest thing to a chest.
"Such a pity. Perhaps you should reconsider your purity, child? Or speak of what you cannot to those who must never know?" The ever-changing form of Frianchenzer turned its attention to Únik. "And what of you, little one? Do you believe yourself pure of heart?"
-+-
Únik shook her head. This creature did not understand what it asked of her. She had killed before. Suffered for it. Regretted it more than she had regretted anything in her life. If she could return to that night, she would choose a different path. Her daughter would still remain dead, but Únik would not have the death of her husband on her hands. She would not have that stain upon her soul.
The thing that called itself a fallen Patron reared up, higher than ever, shimmering in its beauty, terrorising in its immortal darkness. The unseen eyes glared and tore into her, reaching into Únik's mind with ephemeral fingers, thoughts intermingling. Únik felt the creature's pain, its suffering. Its loneliness and its regrets. A creature of eternity that clutched to its regrets as much as any mortal. Únik knew Frianchenzer tried to show her that they were alike, if only in this small way.
"No. I'm not pure of heart." Raising her hand to her face, Únik felt fresh tears fall upon her cheeks. "I cannot help you."
"No? Tell me, mortal, why are you here?" The intermingling of their minds ended and the creature seemed to hover before them all, the spears of Essence pulsing as though the creature pulled against its restraints. The voice that spoke in their minds sounded even more strained. "No. Not here, in this place. Why are you here?"
"I don't understand." Looking towards Shihiri and Hatyara, they returned only questioning looks. "Why am I here, but not here? I am here. That is that."
If a near-god could sigh, the creature did so now. The form took on that of a diffuse Ice-Kin. Small and vulnerable, though made of a substance beyond flesh. Then it became a Fae. Then a dog. Returning to the form of a spider before beginning a fresh cycle. The creature never stayed in one form alone, as though it did not have a shape, a body of its own.
"You could have abandoned the Ūtharan. But you did not." The fallen Patron pulled all eight limbs against the pinning of the spears of Essence, setting the energy to a pulse, brighten to an all-encompassing light and then release a thunderous explosion of energy that coruscated across the creature's body, causing it to howl in pain. "You could have left the hound to drown with its brothers and sisters. But you did not. You could have stayed in the temple above, safe. But you did not. Why? Why are you here?"
Únik fell to her knees. Seeing Frianchenzer cause itself more suffering in this interrogation tore at her. She couldn't stand to see the creature in pain, despite the fact the thing was an immortal. Despite her own fears and her wish to return home. She wanted to reach for Barsa, but her hound cowered on the other side of the corpse wall. He had not become compelled as she, Hatyara and Shihiri had.
"What do you want from me?" Holding up her hands, pleading with Frianchenzer, she wished it would kill them or let them go. "She reminds me of my daughter! A daughter I failed in my duty as a mother to protect. I helped Hatyara because of that. There's no purity in this heart! I tried to save Barsa because he didn't deserve to die because of me. I came down here because I took on the responsibility of caring for Hatyara and I will until she is safe."
"What is your reward for helping this little Ūtharan?" The creature appeared to relax, no longer straining upon its magical restraints. The voice in their heads, too, calmed.
"She says she will pay me enough to rebuild my home." Once again, Únik looked towards Hatyara and saw the look upon the Ice-Kin's pretty, child-like face. Shihiri held Hatyara, stopping her from running to Únik. The Fae understood. This was Únik's trial to face. "But I don't care about the money. I only care about her safety, no matter how she treats me."
"And you find no purity in that?" The light from the spears of Essence reduced even more.
Únik looked up towards Frianchenzer and saw a golden figure. Eight arms spread out wide from the body that appeared both male and female. Human and Fae, Ice-Kin and Driadin and Dragon-Kin and a host of Other-Kin that Únik did not recognise. Frianchenzer was all these things and none, but it appeared as beautiful, whichever form it took, as this golden figure. Still towering above Únik, the figure crouched to one knee, offering one of its hands to Únik, helping her to rise.
"What happened in your past matters not, Únik of Uriok, mother of a murdered daughter. It is gone." A large, golden hand caressed Únik's cheek as Frianchenzer stood over her. "The future is not yet written, though I see the multiple possibilities and see difficult times ahead for you. There is only the here and the now and, in this moment, your heart is as pure as it can be. Release me."
The golden hand of Frianchenzer swept downwards, towards the carpet of the dead. The glows of all the other weapons, hidden beneath the bodies, dissipated leaving only one bright glow remaining. Únik didn't have to desecrate the dead to find the weapon. Her hand wrapped around the shaft of something and she lifted a spear from the ground.
Almost seven feet long, the shaft a deep black that seemed to drink in all the light around it, the tip a shining silver colour that glittered in the light that the shaft did not swallow. Únik held the spear in both hands as though even touching it would cause great pain to someone or something. Únik did not want it.
"I cannot. I cannot take another life." She wanted to drop the spear. She wanted to curse and damn this fallen Patron for even asking her to perform such a wicked duty. "If I kill you, I damn myself forever. What will the other Patrons think of me? What will people think of me? Not only a killer, but a killer of a Patron. I will be despised."
"That you hesitate, even though it is what I wish, shows it can only be you." Frianchenzer settled into one form. No longer shifting and transforming. It stood, as a human figure, arms outstretched. Waiting. "Strike true. You will see no repercussion from my siblings. They will not care. People will not believe you. You will not be damned, you will be blessed for freeing me from eternal torture. Follow the light once the deed is done."
"I'm sorry." Únik glared at that deep, black shaft in her hands. With jittering, slow movements, her fingers closed around the shaft.
Turning, planting her feet wide, Únik raised the spear, pointing it towards the chest of the golden figure. Both man and woman, the spear aimed towards the centre, between the breasts. Flexing her fingers, Únik drew back the spear. Then hesitated once again.
The killing of her husband had haunted her for so long. In the night, as she slept, she saw her hands about the man's neck over and over again. She saw those bulging eyes, the fingers scrabbling to break her grip as she only thought of Thesik while she choked the life from the man who had killed her. The child's own father.
Would the future now hold dreams, nightmares of this moment? Once done, she could not undo this act. She would forever have the stain of taking yet another life and she did not know if she could bear that burden. Not even the life of an immortal, if such a word could describe a Patron's existence.
Then her mind returned to the feelings that Frianchenzer had shared with her for that brief moment. The pain that the fallen Patron suffered and had suffered for a thousand years. The isolation, the rejection of its siblings, the loss of its worshippers, its people, that now lay beneath their feet and up above in the field of bones.
She remembered the fallen Patron's loneliness and its regrets, so many regrets that it made Únik's regrets seem pitiful in comparison. Frianchenzer had tried to usurp Tismit Kha from atop the pantheon of the Patrons and had paid the price. Had it not suffered enough after a thousand years?
With a scream, Únik drew back the spear and thrust it towards the chest of Frianchenzer and, in that moment, Únik knew she would never regret anything more.