Beneath the Hand of God
[From the writings of Marcus Good]
I slept that night at the Whistling Kettle, an old inn that served the most delicious teas I have ever encountered. I had been low on coin, but the innkeeper and his wife traded me a room and evening meal for news from my travels. It had, of course, been only a year since I had parted ways with my heroic companions, and still those memories were hard to tell. So, I gave them word of towns and cities, near and far, that were even now in the process of rebuilding their societies. Information of our reviving world is currency in itself, these days.
The following morning I used what coin I could spare to replenish my supplies, as well as to purchase a small pouch of their tea leaves. It was unlikely I would ever pass that way again to enjoy the brew. I was pointed in the direction I needed to go and so continued on my journey. The road of this pilgrimage had been long, but I would soon reach my destination. The ancient ruins of the Nach'tora, one of the first people to recognize the existence of the One-God.
Of course, the records of the Nach'toran's religious beliefs are old and much is yet unknown. We of the Accouran Faith do not directly acknowledge the Nach'toran god as an early sign of Accouras, but there are certainly similarities. A singular deity, supposedly all-powerful and all-knowing. A great entity known for its wisdom. Yet, we do not know much more, but as is our belief, while all people's faith differs, Accouras is God, in whatever form He shows himself to His people.
When I came upon the ruined city my breath was taken away. Pillars of marble, great statues, and elaborate archways that stretched across broad streets. The structures were ornate, carved beautifully into images of the people who once lived here. Hieroglyphs etched out the telling of daily life in the Nach'toran city, from the mundane ritual of farming and crafting, to the eventful days of celebration. The city stretched throughout the snow laden land for at least three miles, as near I could tell, and there at its furthest edge rose the temple I had journeyed to see. I descended the hill that was my approach and set my first step into this ancient history.
The curiosity in me, built only further by my previous adventures, would not allow me to head directly for the holy site. I could not help myself as I ventured into the ruined buildings, eyeing the magnificent stonework and what remained of long deteriorated possessions. I ran my fingers through course dust, leaving trails along walls. banisters, and the rotted wood of tables. There were the obvious signs of more recent use, travelers like myself who had stolen for themselves shelter for the night. Most curious of all was a single emblem, engraved over the main door of every household, every shop, every single building in the city. This was a triangle, pointing skyward, within which were three concentric circles. My first notice of it, I had taken it to be a sign of what the establishment had been, but when I realized this emblem marked every building, I began to feel a shadow creeping over me. I could not then say why.
Darkness had come quickly, and my slight unease gave me further excuse to bed down for the night before examining the temple on the morrow. I slept that night in what may once have been a chandlery. My sleep was restless and plagued with nightmares. I awoke, the dimmed light of the moon still high in the ashen sky, drenched in a feverish sweat. Trepidation had taken hold. I gathered my belongings and prepared to turn back when I saw the dancing light of a fire. It was further down the road in the direction of the temple, like a beacon beckoning me closer. I was a slave to its pull as my feet carried me onward. Dread washed over me, thickening with every step forward.
My fear was unfounded, I thought, when I arrived. It was but a campfire, surrounded by what I took to be three weary travelers. They warmed themselves from the endless winter beneath the alcove of a stable, weapons and gear stowed against a wall out of the snow. It took them several minutes to notice my approach, despite the crunch of my footsteps and the flicker of firelight that lit across my face. When they did, it was with an unbidden aggression that turned quickly to apologies at the recognition of my dress. While the Accouran faith is still not widely accepted, there are few who do not recognize the cloth. They accepted me to their fire and shared with me their food.
They said they were mercenaries, killers by trade. I assured them I would not preach against their profession. It was not the time nor the place for such things. They were hunting down a man, good money sat on his head, great money, and they had tracked him here, to the Nach'toran ruins. Even now, this man hid within the temple that was my own destination.
"While I will not speak my mind on your trade and the sin that it promotes, I must express that you cannot kill this man. He guards himself within holy walls. You cannot break that bond of sanctuary." I had hoped, perhaps, that I could save a life in this fashion, at least.
"No god would spare this one's life. He has done much to deserve the fate we grant. A dead city will give him no sanctuary."
"Who is this man for you to speak so? Surely there is no man so wicked as to have angered God Himself."
"We hunt the World Breaker."
"You hunt the dyn Kha'radas?"
"He is no king of ours. Atlantis has fallen, and with it its king. Gazzard delivered us this hell we live in, and it's time we make him pay. When we've rested, when we've eaten, we'll go into that temple and find him and kill him for what he has done."
With that the three men looked at the spit that held the final remains of snow rabbit, lifted their weapons, and prepared to complete their hunt. They marched away together in silence, leaving me to tend to the fire as they disappeared into the dark mouth of the temple. Quickly, I doused the dying embers and took up my staff. I stepped into the temple and found myself wrapped in shadows. Even through the broad, open doorway, light seemed not to dare to penetrate this place. Chills coursed down my spine. There was no house of God, in any form people may see Him. This place was evil. With every step, my boots sounded a hollow thud. I carried onward, my pace hurried, seeking to reach the bounty hunters before they could reach our fallen king.
I entered the central chamber only to find I was too late. I looked across the massive room at the figure on its far side. His back was turned toward me, but I recognized him. My eyes shifted from Ganatal to the three charred bodies, smoke still rising from their blackened forms. I opened my mouth to speak, but words did not come. He had killed them so quickly, so… In even the short few times I had met with him in the past, I knew such an act was unlike him. Senseless murder, and from one with such enormous power. Yes, they had come to kill him, but…
“Have you see what has become of my kingdom? It is gone. All gone… The sea has swallowed it all.”
I blinked. So many years had passed since our world was broken. So many years, and yet here he stood, questioning the cataclysm that had brought us to this point. Questioning it as if he did not even know it had happened… Or that he had caused it. I stepped forward, a small, slow step. “Dyn Kha’radas…”
He turned and I looked into the depths of his eyes. They were dark, though not in appearance. The sensation they gave off, the deep pounding of fear they thrust into my heart, it was like looking into the eyes of the Fallen One, himself. I retracted my step and swallowed back any words I would have had.
“Everything has been destroyed. All of it!” The walls themselves vibrated as he shouted the words. “And now these pathetic humans come at me with their swords and their arrows. What happened? What has done this to me?”
I could not control my tongue. “Who are you, beast? You are not the Ganatal I know.”
“No?” He held a hand to his head, as if in pain. “I don’t remember. If I am not Ganatal Gazzard, then who am I?” With a shake of his head he stepped toward me, arms stretched to his sides. “Tell me, priest! I have little memory of who or what I am! I awoke but mere days ago in this cold, dark place, a place marked with symbols that call to me in a way I do not understand.” He stood, I saw, atop a large stone panel, engraved with the same circles-in-triangle emblem that marked the entire city. “My last memory is of my kingdom at war, the skies lit with flames and my people dying in the streets, and power… Overwhelming power coursing through my veins and soul. Then… Then I am here… Alone, and all that I ever knew has been stripped away from me.”
What could I say? What could I do? I could feel in my heart that this man before me was not Ganatal, yet I could not simply turn away. There was a darkness within him, pulsating with such strength it was making it hard to focus on the words he spoke. The evil that spread from him was more powerful than any I had ever felt, or ever would again. “You are an abomination… A twisted doppelganger of a great man. What you are is a blackness on this earth that must be removed. You…” I faltered and stopped. What was I saying? The words came unheeded and without thought. Such things said to this thing would only result in my death.
The monster stared at me in silence. Those dark and menacing eyes only darkened, and yet with that darkening there was a knowing and understanding that came with it. He stooped, brushing a hand across the rough gouges that made up the emblem on the floor. The voice that came to me had become hushed, a bare whisper. “They worshipped one god, one singular being. It was not a god of creation and life and benevolence as your Accouras is, no… They worshipped the Great Destroyer of the Skies, the Devourer of Souls. This was the emblem they gave to it, the mark that symbolized their faith in the coming darkness. A darkness they did not survive to experience.” Those eyes turned back to me. “And now I am here but… I am not whole.”
Despite the attempted courage I put into my words, my voice still shook. “What are you?”
“I am… I was… That very Coming Darkness. Something went wrong and now… Now I am only GAN.”
I knew that name. How could I not? It was known by many others, but all amounted to the same thing… An evil even greater than the Fallen One that opposed Accouras. A being who lived off of absolute destruction. And it stood before me… The most evil thing to ever exist.
“I am GAN! Do you hear me? Do you understand? Everything I have is lost! My power has been so greatly diminished, my strength completely drained. Where are they? Where are my brothers, my other selves? Tell me, priest, or I will send you to meet your God.”
“I am prepared to stand before Accouras and meet my fate. I know not of who or what you speak and can tell you nothing. If I must die, then I will die… But I will not fall without doing all in my power to erase you from this earth.”
I didn’t even have time to breathe. The rushing force of energy that struck me drove me into the stone wall. Pain screamed through my body as I felt the impact shatter bones. I collapsed in a heap, gasping for air and struggling to move, to do something, anything, to end this monster, despite knowing there was little I could do. His shadow joined the others that fell across my broken body. A sickly green glow lit around his outstretched hand. The light flared, and in an instant everything went black.
I felt nothing, heard and smelled nothing. Ahead of me a light erupted, blinding white and rushing toward me. I went to scream and found I had no voice. I was enveloped in endless white, floating through this nothing. I looked at myself and saw nothing, no body. Then the voice boomed around me.
“THIS IS NOT YOUR TIME.”
Still, I could not speak, could not respond.
“YOU CANNOT END THE DARKNESS, BUT WITH YOUR FAITH YOU CAN DROWN IT WITH LIGHT AND DELAY ITS RISE TO POWER.”
Pain suddenly struck me with tremendous force, but not the stab of broken bones. An agonizing burning sensation against my chest. I screamed and screamed. My eyes thrust open and I saw GAN standing over me, eyes wide with wonder and (could it be?) fear. The evil one staggered back, a scream of his own rising with mine. I looked down at myself, saw smoke rising from my chest. I pulled open my robe and stared at the medallion I wore. The Hand of Accouras, His emblem, had branded itself into the flesh over my heart as the silver sigil burned white hot. My hands clutched it and, fighting the heat, I raised it toward GAN. His scream became piercing. The ground beneath his feet began to change, the gray stone bleeding into a milky white. As the floor changed, GAN seemed to melt into it. He struggled as his body sank into the stone, his scream rising and rising, never stopping for air. The moment he had completely disappeared into the ground I was blinded by light and, as it faded, I saw that the vile triangular emblem had become the Hand of Accouras, a perfect engraving of an open palm, fingers splayed… The same mark that was forever branded into my skin. I rose to my feet, my body aching yet not broken, the bones mended. I dared not step upon the stone slab. Though its face was that of God’s mark, the evil it contained still emanated from within… This one piece of the greatest of all evils sealed beneath the holy icon. I stood, alive, and hopefully so would all others upon Accouras’ earth for many, many years to come.