Of Men Made Gods Read online

Chapter Three

  A God

  BY THE TIME Avon reached Elizo's home, it was already late in the morning. Surprised that they were still meeting after yesterday's news when the summons reached him, he had had to hurry to even get to the place late. Though the news of the older man's still beating heart had reached him like it did most of the city, he was slightly disturbed that the man he was meeting today had not found it necessary to change his plans.

  The house was enormous and, like most of the city around it, it had been built in his absence. But, unlike the others, it was made of a more subdued gray stone, making the whole thing stand out rather than blend in with its imposing look. One-piece huge wooden pillars lined the front, their surface painted the red of their people's traditional homes. The whole place was slightly accented by marvelous carvings and statues that seemed to be placed so they would be hidden in plain sight. He absently admired the place and noted that even had the decorations that graced the stone and wood had not been so artfully crafted into things of breathtaking beauty, they would have drawn a viewer's eyes just by their scarcity.

  Amid his distracted marveling at the exterior of the building, Avon was interrupted as the front doors were opened by an old man. Passing by the bowing man with his unmistakably dim aura that defined him as a dru, a non-magician, and therefore a slave, he wondered why the man was still working at his age.

  Unexpectedly, he was suddenly reminded of one of his grandfather's old sayings as he followed the old one leading him into the house. He could almost see the now dead man leaning back on his chair, which Avon had known was extremely uncomfortable from secretly sitting on it once, as he had said, 'If they start making sounds when they move it means it's time for them to be replaced.'

  While his thoughts were partly lost in remembering the old man from his childhood, the one in front of him lead the way through room after room of the house. To his distracted mind the inside of the place was at least as impressive as the outside, if not more. The walls were covered with dazzlingly lifelike and yet incredibly whimsical murals while the marble floors shone in the light coming from the traditional overhead windows that kept out the heat of the sun. Odd looking objects and bizarre contraptions made of rare metals and jewels held the place between the exquisite furniture that hinted at a humbling wealth. Overindulged amazement occasionally interrupting his memories, he followed the slave.

  It was before a wooden door that the old man finally stopped. Visibly straining with the effort, the elderly servant opened the large thing and bowed in the guest he had led from outside before closing it on himself without following.

  Once the door was shut behind him, Avon was plunged into darkness and a sudden drop of temperature. But after a time, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and he noticed that he wasn't truly in complete darkness. There was one side of the room that seemed to be a bit lighter. Walking to that lit shade of blackness, he quickly found out that he was in a corridor that turned sharply to block the light coming from deeper in. When he turned that sharp corner he suddenly found himself at the entrance to a huge hall.

  The distant ceiling was built in an unusual way so that it rested on the four walls of the room, instead of on the usual columns, which gave the floor a vast look. No windows blemished the somber dark walls here. Instead, the hall's minimal sources of light were the tall braziers that burned at the edges of the floor in the unusually cold room. Their flames writhed silently, spitting out light that outlined the shadows that danced on the walls.

  Looking like wavering shadows themselves, a group of people occupied the space near the middle of the hall. All but three of them wore dark red cowled robes that hid everything about them. One of the three was another slave who looked even older than the earlier one while the other was Faeynar who fidgeted nervously as he stood a little way away from everyone else about him.

  The air in the hall had more of the coldness that a part of Avon finally associated with the workings of high magic. There was also a vague stench that colored the powers at play in the room, though he couldn't exactly place it even as a corner of his mind kept reminding him that he knew it from another time.

  Disoriented from the sudden shift of daylight into darkness, Avon had at first failed to notice what stood in the middle of the hall. But once his eyes fell on it, all thoughts left his mind as it was numbed in wonder. It was some sort of structure carved from a gray rock. It had three columns connected overhead, one some ways behind the two equally positioned ones in the front. Their placing formed a kind of cleft of open space in their midst which shimmered in the darkness as the light passing through it was distorted oddly.

  Every inch of the structure's stone was etched in runes and words that pulsed with immense power to Avon's heightened senses. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. It dragged his eyes to it, urging him to come closer and learn its close guarded secrets.

  "Avon!" called Faeynar, wincing as his loud voice echoed in the hall even as his lined face flooded with relief at the sight of him.

  The sudden sound bringing him out of his daze, Avon realized he had unknowingly taken a few steps towards the stone structure. Cursing himself silently while he nodded to Faeynar, he brought up the barriers in his mind that he had perfected in his countless experiments over the past three years. Immediately he felt the change, instead of the burning need to get close to the thing that he had sensed at first, he now felt only a more natural distant curiosity. Taking more conscious steps this time, he moved towards his caller.

  At the same moment, the last of the three with the uncovered heads finally stood up from where he had been kneeling. "At last," he said, his voice touched with amusement as he spoke without turning, "you have arrived."

  Even before he spoke, Avon had known who the man was. Though many years had passed since he last saw him, he could still recognize his childhood friend with just a glance. "Elizo," he said, speaking the name as a greeting. "I had thought we would not continue as planned after yesterday's news reached me."

  "Well," began Elizo, turning with a swirl of his magnificent robes to face the last of his guests, "it appears you had thought wrong." In a seemingly calculated move, he whipped one of his arms away from himself, drawing all the eyes on him to the knife he held in his hand and from which he was flicking blood off of with his sudden action. Handing the jeweled blade to the slave who cleaned and sheathed it with a deft hand, he spoke again, "Progress, as you should know more than anyone, waits for nothing."

  Looking at the floor where the man had just been kneeling, Avon found the source of that precious red fluid. The dead calf's skin was still twitching as its blood flowed down the grooves on the floor before the stone structure and unnaturally up its surface to fill the markings on it.

  Watching the pool of blood that surrounded the three pillars without entering the space between them, he was almost certain that that amount of blood could not possibly have come from one calf alone. And sure enough, he found a stack of the dead animals leaning on one of the walls to the side, with the little life fluid left in their drained bodies making a congealed red circle around them. 'Blood magic,' he thought silently, remembering the not-quite-tabooed type of magic he had once been fascinated with in his younger years, before he had learned more about it and quickly decided to shy away from the subject like most others who had come before him.

  'At least one of the mysteries is uncovered.'

  But even as the thought passed through his mind, he knew he was just telling himself a soothing half-truth, he knew there was more to the stench in the power he sensed than a simple animal sacrifice cold explain away with.

  Another calf lay beside the dead one, with its eyes closed but apparently unhurt as its sides moved with its slow breathing. And looking at this animal which seemed to slumber in peace as the life blood of its own kind pooled around it, his wits returned to him and he remembered the unusual words of the man with the bloody knife. 'I can't believe he's still not forgott
en that,' a part of him whispered in his mind, while another part clearly recalled the day he had chosen to leave his friend as his powers developed more quickly than him. 'Apparently you haven't either,' the thought came to him unbidden, his conscious reprimanding him with its usual swiftness.

  They had been just boys then, but his friend's hatred of his choice could have matched any grown man's. At first he had been so sure of his decision, but over time uncertainty had crept up on him on some unusual days. Now, watching the man whom he could barely remember as the boy he had once been friends with, his mind tried to cope with the fact that it was one of those days where he knew he had made the wrong decision.

  Ignoring the temptation to reply to the man's words, Avon took his place beside Faeynar and started to study the runes and other parts of the powerful magic set to be performed. Within minutes, he had located the escape spells that any magic works of this size always held so that the practitioners could easily get out if something went wrong. The next thing he noticed were a couple of runes that he was sure signified some sort of summoning and form-binding spells, though he had no specific idea what their purposes were in the whole magical structure.

  He was seeing what he was sure was the portal's main spell when his mind suddenly paused to think of what he was actually doing. If not for the times of the last few years, he was sure he would never have seen so clearly the spells in front of him now. Before he could fully indulge himself in self-congratulation though, the architect of the day's endeavor spoke.

  "It's open," said Elizo in a loud whisper, a hint of awe staining his voice.

  A slight pull of air that accompanied the magician's words was the only change Avon first noticed. But once he started to search for it, he clearly saw the man spoke truth. What had seemed unchanged to his normal eyes at first was completely different once he spoke a simple spell that let him see magic in non-living forms and his eyes began to see the aura of the power between the stone pillars.

  The pillars themselves showed little difference except where the markings on them shone for a time before returning to their normal dark states, but the small open space between the three stone structures shined in a brilliant light that would have blinded his unaided eyes had it been a normal light.

  The first to step into that light were the hooded figures who were completely silent but for the sounds their robes made as they walked. One by one, they moved in single line and seemed to disappear from view as they entered the gateway. To Avon's enchanted eyes, it looked like the light in the middle of the pillars seemed to depress slightly, as if it had some substantial weight itself, before engulfing each figure and losing its brightness with each passage; the sudden dimness being so imperceptible that he only noticed it after a couple of the people had moved on and disappeared.

  The next to go was the old slave who picked up and carried the still unconscious calf with him as he disappeared between the pillars, uncaring as the blood of the animal ruined his clothes and marked his passage with constant red drops. Even though his arms looked as frail as sticks and his back was awkwardly bowed, he performed the task with what Avon found to be unusual ease. Once he had passed through, Elizo gestured to his two guests and said, "Since the power ahead is beyond what our mortal minds can handle, I suggest you move with your normal eyes alone from here onwards."

  Feeling a little annoyed that the man had so easily known that he was using magic, Avon swiftly dismissed his simple spell. Without the magic to aid him, the gateway was back to looking like a beautifully carved stone structure alone. Trying to act like he wasn't nervous, he moved forward and stepped through the empty looking cleft.

  Though he was sure it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, he did feel a slight shiver crawl down his back as he passed into the gateway. The air seemed different to his nose though he could not say what the change was at first. But after a second he realized it was the absence of smell that seemed so alien to his senses. Relaxing his eyes which he had unknowingly half-closed when taking that crucial step, he looked at the sight before him while moving on to join those who had gone before him.

  All around them was darkness, a solid looking darkness that stretched from above down to where it met the brown stone where the floor suddenly ended. They were standing between two exact replicas of the gateway he had seen at the hall he had just come from. There were torches at the edges of the floor, though Avon somehow felt the light would not be absent even if they were suddenly extinguished. Looking at the light that reached the stone edges before simply disappearing, it took him a moment before he realized where that knowing came from.

  'It's all an illusion,' the words rang true in his mind as he consciously felt the shielding spell all around that he could not see with his normal sight. Although a small part of him wanted to see what the magic was protecting him from, another, larger, part looked at the ingenious spell in wonder. The shield's power thrummed under his skin, making him realize the strength of the thing. But, what amazed him even more than that was the delicateness of the spell. Mesmerized while watching what any magician would find a masterpiece, he knew he wouldn't even have noticed the faint magic had it not been in such an otherworldly place.

  Still fascinated by his surroundings, he turned at the sound of a loud sigh to find Faeynar moving away from the gateway he had just stepped through. A second later, Avon was delighted as he got to witness a person making the remarkable journey from the other side. Cast by nothing he could see, an almost insubstantial shadow seemed to stand on its own between the pillars before it suddenly became Elizo. The transformation took so little time that he would have questioned his own eyes if he hadn't been expecting something out of the ordinary to happen.

  Not pausing once he was through, Elizo strode away from the gateway he had come from and headed for the other one in front of which all the others were waiting. He stopped before the sleeping calf which the old slave had placed before the grooves on the floor that led towards the pillars. Taking the unsheathed knife from the old man, he kneeled before the animal and spoke a single word of power.

  Even without trying, Avon could feel the force of the magic spoken though he knew it to be an almost insignificant spell calling for awakening. A part of him noted that the unusual place they were in seemed to make it somehow easier to sense and practice magic.

  After making sure the animal had woken up, the kneeling man expertly slit its throat open; moving the head towards the drainage grooves as he did so. The calf's blood flowed quickly out of its body which strained in its death throes against unseen restraints, the red liquid gushing out in a higher speed than its dying heart could have possibly provided. In moments, all the markings on the gateway were flooded with blood while the air in the empty space between the pillars began to shiver slightly.

  "Huh," gasped Faeynar, sounding out what Avon was also feeling as they all watched the shadow that had materialized inside the gateway.

  The thing was unnaturally tall, its nine foot shape close to the arches of the gateway above it. Other than its immense height, Avon couldn't tell anything about it. 'If I let my imagination ran amok just a little bit,' he thought to himself, unconsciously gathering his power in case something went wrong, 'I can almost believe that I can see its head and shoulders.'

  As soon as the thought passed through Avon's mind, the shadow shrank. It seemed to collapse into itself, stopping only when it reached a less impressive human size. Once it had completed its change, the thing passed through the gateway and came into their view.

  Only Elizo, who still knelt on the floor, and the hooded figures did not step back from the thing that had suddenly appeared before them. It looked like a normal man, though its body was hidden behind the brilliant white robe it was wearing. Its face was beyond beautiful; it shined with a holy perfection in their gaze. Its skin, wherever it was visible, was a dark golden brown while the hair that flowed down its back was a glossy dark mass. Both characters being the prided marks of his people, a sm
all part of Avon's mind that was not occupied with being stunned marked them for a later thought.

  His mind starting to function, Avon realized another odd thing about the being before him. It had no aura. Not even a slight haze that would exist in the basest of creatures, but a complete absence. While he was still wondering about the thing's peculiar lack, all the figures wearing the dark cowled robes fell on to their knees and began to chant in a tongue that he had never heard before.

  Turning his brown eyes to the sound, the being spoke for the first time since his appearance.

  'Enough.'

  The hooded figures obeyed instantly while Faeynar made a sound that Avon was sure he would have made if somebody had hit his gut with a sledge hammer. Turning to see the man who was shamelessly leaking fluids from every opening on his face as he struggled to keep his mind intact, he could only feel a momentary pity before his own thoughts returned to strengthening his mind barriers which had been shaken by the being's lashing sending.

  Unaware, or uncaring, that the power of the thought it had sent out to all could have maimed any of the magicians before him had they not been on their guard, the being turned its gaze to Elizo and seemed to communicate something to the man alone.

  After first prostrating before the thing, Elizo stood up and seemed to continue the conversation the rest were being shielded from. He spread his arms before him, the knife in his grip sparkling in the sudden movement, seeming to be indicating the corpse of the animal he had just killed.

  Even before the being sent its frighteningly powerful thought to them, Avon had felt uneasy. And looking at the dead calf his old friend had killed earlier, the feeling that something was terribly wrong with all the things he had seen simply grew. A distant memory dogged his conscious mind, making his thoughts more troubled while never coming close enough to become clear.

  But just as he was starting to let go of his worry, and just as the thing turned its gaze on the old slave, the elusive memory popped into his head. Suddenly, he knew what had made him uneasy. Suddenly, the odd stench in the powers he had sensed at the hall was not so odd any more.

  And yet, even as the truth crept into his thoughts and tried to settle in his mind, he quickly shied away from it. 'No,' he thought, not wanting to believe what he knew was the reality as he tried to take solace from thinking the simple, strong word, 'he wouldn't do that.'

  But before he could finish taking comfort from his denial, the being stepped up to the calf's corpse and exuded another powerful thought, though this time it didn't come into their minds as words but as a deep, almost animalistic, need. The beast which had been struggling weakly suddenly seized moving when the suffocating thought left Avon's head.

  Acting oblivious to what had just happened, Elizo bowed again to the human looking thing before turning towards to the only man around who was actually oblivious to all the magical happenings.

  When, obedient to his master, the elderly slave began to step towards his old friend, Avon finally accepted the truth. Even after all the years, he still remembered the way Elizo held himself before doing something he hated.

  His reaction was almost like instinct. Trying to save everyone who had come with him into this other world, he spat out the emergency escape spells. But even as he finished saying the words, he realized another person was trying to stop him.

  It was easy for him to find who was trying to impede his spells. For a time, he let himself feel relief that the one whom he had to face was Elizo and not the being that his one-time friend seemed to think of as a god. Then he began to pull all his strength, taping even into his inner source of magic, knowing he would destroy the man if he tried to stand in his way.

  Preparing to battle his old friend, Avon started to force his interrupted spell into completion. And just when he was sure Elizo was going to attack, the man suddenly released his power on the spell and turned to the inhuman being as if obeying some sort of command from the thing.

  Avon didn't waste any time pondering the reasons of the creature in releasing them; instead, he only felt an overwhelming relief as he sensed a part of his force leave him and he knew the spell had worked at last.

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