The Creators Ch. 18

Chapter Eighteen: Chaos

Prelude: Queen's Gambit

CORRUPTION

I detested metaphors. Language itself was a horrific abstraction of communication, and metaphors were the vilest of linguistic concoctions, though perhaps similes were even worse. That being said, I was the god of the astral plane, which meant metaphors became quite literal for me, and so I was vexed to find myself sitting on Diamond's astral garden, and staring at a chessboard.

The board was not set up in the traditional sense. Some pieces were missing, others were more numerous than usual, and their placement at the beginning of the game was all wrong. My dark king stood in her correct position at the center-back. She was the focal point of which all other pieces moved and my greatest source of weakness. My beloved queen stood in the far right corner, huddled with her treacherous bishop and her loyal rook. I had only the one bishop on my side of the board; sneaky and elusive, capable of traversing between pieces like the snake she was. Similarly, I had only the one rook; stalwart and loyal, but also terribly predictable. This rook would stand in defense of her queen no matter the danger, and the queen would always stand in defense of the bishop, for the queen had become dependent on the bishop's lies. My two knights flanked my king, capable of flying over the gameboard and attacking the enemy unpredictably. My many pawns stood before the power-pieces, so numerous that they overflowed their designated front row, and occupied every space leading to the enemy's front.

I had an overwhelming advantage in numbers, but the pieces across from me were of much higher quality. The row that should've been occupied by white pawns was instead filled with knights, for the footmen of the enemy were much more powerful than my own, and their abilities made them very hard to predict. The white player also had two bishops to rival my own; one rested timidly upon the white squares, while the other licked her fangs hungrily upon the black. Similar to my side of the board, the enemy had only one rook, and that rook stood beside her queen no matter the danger. Also similarly to my board, the queen, rook, and dark-squared bishop moved in tandem, starting at the far corner and seeking to maneuver their way around the edges of the board. The timid white bishop positioned herself to maneuver between the rows of black pawns, and strike my own bishop from the board. She took her king with her on this perilous journey, right into the heart of my force.

There was a problem with this ridiculous metaphor, however. The only piece I could move at all was my king, and not reliably. My opponent could make a dozen moves at once before I could make a single one, and my only hope was to bait a trap and pray that the pieces could not see the obfuscation for what it was. I had a good delaying entrapment setup for my opponent's queen, dark-bishop, and rook, but my second entrapment was far more dangerous. The gambit would require me to put my king in jeopardy, but it also lent me the chance at a checkmate.

And who was my opponent? Death, I supposed. Whether they knew it or not, the pieces across from me were being moved by the uncaring and unthinking force of nothing. I didn't hate them for being ignorant; I pitied most of them for being fated to die on this board. Well, that wasn't entirely true; I hated the king, but I could not understand why he conjured such a deep and visceral odium within me.

I glanced across the board and studied the crowned piece, then I drew my eyes to the piece standing next to it. The white-squared bishop stood timidly to the king's left, but on his right, stood another king. This king was just as important as the first and much, much more vulnerable. The bishop would guide both kings through the forest of pawns, and into the very back row of my side of the board. Though the board was skewed and the formations were all wrong, the rules of the game were still the same; checkmate and the game is over. It didn't matter which king.

Part One: The Devil's Whore

ANGELA

I watched the first glimmer of daylight emerge from behind Ofan, and sighed. I hadn't closed my eyes all night, and I had just been ready for sleep. I rolled over in the bed and kissed my brother's lips. His morning breath filled my mouth, tasting of last night's passion.

"Is it already morning?" he groaned.

"Almost," I whispered. "Time to shit, shower, and shave. Oh, and brush your teeth. Your breath tastes like ass."

"I wonder why," he grumbled and cocooned himself in his blankets. "Fuck, it's already today. I wish it was yesterday."

"So do I."

"I had a speech all memorized last night," he looked up at me, his blue eyes filled with fear. "I don't think I can give it. I suck at public speaking."

"That's what you're scared of?"

"And the possessed gods of fire and water, but yeah, the speech is giving me some major performance anxiety." He gave me a small smile. "I could really use a pep-talk right now."

"Your speeches suck and you're going to forget everything you memorized."

"Thanks."

"You're going to freeze, panic, and piss yourself in front of everyone, and they'll all laugh at you. The valkyries will all abandon you for being such a loser, Willowbud will kill herself out of sheer hopelessness, and I'll break up with you and start fucking Julia instead because she can deliver the kind of fire-and-brimstone sermons that make a girl like me weak in the knees." I grinned down at Brandon. "So now facing the possessed gods of fire and water don't seem so bad anymore, do they?"

"No," he smiled back and kissed me. "Thanks, Angél."

Fifteen minutes later, we were standing in the amphitheater. Brandon and Willowbud stood side by side, and the rest of us stood out front before the rows of Ofanians and Ionans. All were silent. Brandon let the sounds of morning birds fill the air before he cleared his throat.

"I don't really have much to say," he began. "I'm not good with words. Thanks, I guess, for being here. It's stupid early in the morning, and you all showed up on time, which is pretty dope. Good... solid... commitment, that's what that shows. All of you—and me too—we're all super committed right now. We're gonna kick some ass, save the world, and then... you know, chill out afterward. You all know what you have to do; you've been training for a moment like this your whole life. I know what I have to do, and I'm gonna... I'm gonna fucking do it! Nona and Bianca are awesome, and they're gonna keep everything super professional. We'll be like straight-up commandos in there with those two at the helm; just fucking... just fucking kicking some fucking ass, that's what we're gonna do! And Willowbud—you all know her—she's, you know... she's here, so... everybody give it up for Willowbud!"

Brandon gestured violently to his deific partner, then began applauding fervently as he sidestepped away. The Ionans clapped politely, the Ofanians cheered and wept like they'd just heard the most inspiring oration ever spoken, and Willowbud stepped forward.

"Thank you, Brandon, for those rousing words," she said and composed herself. "I'm sorry if my speaking is rusty; the only times I ever gave speeches was to rally the boys back in Drastin when we were going to hit up Gloria's gang. In that regard, this isn't much different. At our doorstep, marches the largest exodus ever assembled. They're a bunch of self-righteous zealots who think God's on their side, and you're going to kill them all. The men, the women, and yes, the little bastards too. You're going to stack the bodies higher than Iona, you're going to turn the desert into an ocean of blood, you're going to feed the vultures until they're too fat to fly! In a hundred years, orc mothers will be telling ghost stories about you to make their children go to bed—that is, if you merciless cunts leave any alive to tell the tale. When this day is done, the names of Iona and Ofan will be on every street corner in every city across the world. They will respect you; they will revere you, and most of all, they will fear you!"

The Ionans rose to their feet and chanted a thunderous nordic war-cry, the Ofanians applauded politely, and Willowbud stepped back beside Brandon. Astrid and I promenaded to the center of the platform and linked our hands in a show of unity as Willowbud and Brandon did the same. The valkyries cheered louder than ever, and with the spiritual momentum on our side, we transformed into our avian forms and flew as one from the amphitheater. The sun rose behind us as the Gratoran Wall fell out from beneath us, and the vast desert was laid out. To the north, the Tentigo Tropics were obscured in a soft mist, and to the south, the sands were blackened from horizon to horizon with Julia's horde.

DIAMOND

Mom had decided to be a sore loser and pout by herself, which was fine by me. She'd come crawling back to me with her tail tucked between her legs, and I'd accept her with open arms, and all of this Holy Mother mumbo-jumbo would finally be over with. Oh, I had no delusions that she'd give it all up, and I could accept her annoying attempts to convert me, but she would never again try to tell me what to do. This was my world, and while destroying a few cities in a fireball was fun every once in a while, there was nothing—and I mean nothing—more boring than fricken church. Now religious crusading; I could do that. Heck, I'd even put on a silly nun hat. It was like a giant theme party.

"All praise to the Holy Mother!" I cackled from atop my palanquin.

"All praise!" the crowd roared jubilantly; their black eyes full of fun.

The she-orc screamed out her labor pains over her audience. She was seated on an extravagant throne made of polished mahogany. A crown was placed askew upon her head as she clutched the arms of the chair, and let out another scream.

"Praise be to the Holy Mother!" I shouted. "Come on everybody, help her out!"

"Praise be!" they called back.

The she-orc let out an agonized wail and thrashed in the chair. A small bald head crowned from between her legs.

"Here it comes!" I clapped delightedly. "Come ye faithful subjects of God! Witness the miracle of life!"

"We witness!" they shouted.

The woman twisted and squirmed, her diaphragm heaving, her distended belly fluttering. With a climactic shriek, she pushed with all her might, and a placenta-covered blob of bloody jelly plopped out from between her legs. The crowd roared, the mom wailed, and I snatched the baby from the seat of the throne, cut the ambilocal cord, and hoisted my prize above my head before the masses. The newborn's first cry sang out above the raucous cheers, its little arms and legs flailing. I basked in the glory for a moment, then cradled the baby in my arms, and studied him.

"Give him to me!" the mother pleaded, extending her arms desperately.

I looked into her eyes, saw her desperate desires, and sneered. "Why, so that you can eat him?"

"What are you—"

"Babies aren't food, silly-goose!" I giggled at the corrupted cannibal, then looked to my samurai guardian. "Aiko, chop her head off."

Without even flinching, the black-eyed Breytan sliced her obsidian katana and returned the sword to her belt. The chair's headrest tumbled from its back, and the mother's head toppled after it. The crowd cheered, the baby wailed, and I silenced his cries with a kiss. His squinted eyes flung open and then blackened. My poison filled his little lungs until it was billowing from his nostrils, and then I pulled away to grin down at him. The lad blinked in a moment of stupor, then gave me the biggest chortle.

"D'aw, aren't you the cutest little bastard?" I snickered and tickled his fat little belly. "Coochie-coochie-coo! Your mommy was going to eat you!"

The baby wiggled in delight and pawed blindly at my chest. Out of curiosity, I brought him to my breast, and let him seek my nipple. For a moment, the experience was quite pleasant, but then of course the bastard bit me.

"Ow!" I exclaimed as he cackled in delight. "Fricken cannibals. Aiko, find a midwife for this little rat that won't eat him."

The valkyrie took the baby in her arms with surprising tenderness, flapped her mighty wings, and was off.

"Cool," I said, pushing the headless body out of my chair. "Now..." I scanned the crowd, "...you, you, and you; come up here and have sex with me!"

WILLOWBUD

The sun crept over the Gratoran Wall, casting an immense shadow over the horde. It churned like some terrible sea; a mass of entropy so discordant that my eyes could not comprehend the motion. Though it moved toward the pass, it left a great field of debris in its wake. The dunes and rocks were choked with bodies, the dried riverbeds ran with blood, the oases were naught but hangman's trees to dangle their ornaments.

"What happened to them?" Astrid gasped.

"Corruption," I muttered.

"Maybe they'll all just kill each other before they get to the pass," Brandon mused.

"They could litter the desert with a million bodies, and those who made it through would still destroy everything," Gloria said. "Gods above, how are there so many?"

"We only need to kill two," Angela said, and tightened her belt.

I looked over at her. "We're not going in there."

"Yeah, we are."

"The plan won't work!" I growled. "How can we sow chaos in Julia's army when Julia's army is chaos?!"

"We can't change the plan now," Brandon said, hoisting orc clothing up his skinny waist. "We've waited too long already."

I pointed at the multitude. "Diamond didn't do that by herself! There must be thousands of carriers in there! You can make us all invulnerable, Brandon, but there's nothing you can do to save us from her."

Bianca barked a laugh. "Did you think we would come out of this unscathed, Your Holiness?" she smiled dangerously at me. "I have laid my ancestor's ashes upon the threshold of my door, and have given my death oath to my soldiers. None of the Ofanians expect to return."

"Prepare for death, but live," Arya said, and Bianca patted her proudly on the shoulder.

"Iona stands equally prepared," Nona said, testing the weight of her sword.

"I do as well," Justina said, though her voice was shaking.

"Don't die just to show off," Brandon said to her. "Once the first attack hits, we'll go right to Tera and get her out. You'll take her as far away as you can, and stay with her."

"I'll come back."

"Don't," Angela said, grabbing Justina's shoulder. "Tera is a threat until we find a way to cure her. You have to stay with her, or you risk all of us."

Justina looked ready to protest, but she sealed her lips and nodded.

"You and Astrid stay on the outskirts of the horde," Brandon said to me. "Maintain line of sight at all times."

I nodded back at him.

Angela kissed her brother, then transformed into a hairy male orc with her lips still on his. Brandon just smiled as he deepened the kiss, and donned his own orcish disguise. Justina and Deja shared an embrace, Bianca and Arya exchanged their lips, and Astrid put her arms around me and pulled me into her loving mouth. One by one, the Ionans and Ofanians transformed around us until only the two of us were left unchanged. We parted from the exchange and looked into each other's eyes as they slowly changed color and shape. When I turned back to the desert, a lone orc female was standing before the pack, flexing her hand. Gloria didn't say anything as she stared at the shape of Droktin's pass, but when she knotted her fingers into a fist, I saw that it was shaking. She took the first step, and we followed after.

JULIA

I was in isolation. Diamond had not put me in this cage, but I had crawled in it all the same. Jade was the lone guard of this dungeon, standing a good distance away so that I didn't have to see her. I didn't deserve to see anyone. Far away from the horde, far away from my daughter, I sought the dark confines of the wagon I had sinned in so many times, and I searched for answers. I tried to keep my hands from shaking as I paged through the Maternal Path. Though my eyes saw the words, they did not read them. All I saw was Tera's expression when her eyes turned white; that horror. Her regrets were written across the bloodshot lines of her sclera and painted in the tears that slid down her cheeks. Unchosen. Left behind. That was what she was now. Through my daughter's will, God had decided that Tera Autumnsong was a false prophet, and would never see the gates of heaven. All it took was a kiss.

I clenched my fist, but it shook still. I had no power over Diamond. My fire could not burn her, and my body was that of a nun; soft and tender. I could not reason with her, for she was beyond reason. I could not speak to her soul, for she cared nothing for her own salvation. And yet, she was God's chosen one, not I. Even if the seraph loved me, I was but the sword to be wielded, and the hand was Diamond. I was just the Heat Bringer. Like Arbitrus, Hektin, Breyta, and all those before, I was just part of a natural cycle, but Diamond had come like a messiah. I could not understand it. As I paged numbly through the texts I so adored, I searched for some inkling of Diamond's apathy, just a simple phrase that signified that anarchistic indifference was a hidden tenant of God's will, but there was nothing. The Bible foretold the end times when God's soldiers would clash with Satan's on the blistered fields of the apocalypse, but these were stories of bravery, loss, and love. Where were the lines dictating the madness of God's horde? Where were the hymnals describing their blasphemy? For those sheep I had so carefully flocked toward the light of divinity had turned their backs on it the moment they tasted God's gift.

"Where is my angel?" I whimpered. "Where are my harbingers in their white robes now? Where are the great banners billowing in the breeze before the marching of her resplendent soldiers?" I closed the book and huddled in the corner. "It's all wrong. I would have brought it to fruition, but it is not to be. After a lifetime of devotion, God has chosen someone else. Perhaps Diamond is a heretic, but at least she is not a fool. I am. I was led astray by a whore once more, and God lost her patience with me."

Tera just hugged her knees tighter and stared into the floorboards.

"Look at me," I hissed at her.

Her violet eyes slowly tracked from the boards and met my gaze.

"There is no place in heaven for you," I growled. "The deepest pit of hell is reserved for false prophets. All those confessions you made me perform! All of those lies I believed! If it weren't for you, none of this would've happened! YOU LED ME ASTRAY, AND NOW GOD HAS FORSAKEN ME!"

Though she quailed at my rage, she did not move from her spot. "Corruption isn't an angel," she said. "She's using you."

"I will not listen to one more lie from the devil's whore!"

Her lip twitched slightly. "Is that what I am? How do you know?" She inclined her head toward the book in my hand. "Where does it speak of me in that story, and exactly how big is this satanic cock?"

I sneered back at her. "Are you so eager to return to your master? Worry not; you will see him soon, but I'll make sure your journey is very, very long."

"I'll wait for you down there."

"YOU WILL NOT!" I shrieked with such force that she scrambled into the corner. "I will serve without question! I will grovel like a pig in the mud if I have to, but I will serve, and I will sacrifice!" I leveled my finger at her. "I am still one of the chosen few. I am still bound to the seraph! I will do as commanded until my breath leaves me, and when I face God's judgement, she will reward me for my humility!"