Demon Lord III: Grey God

Demon Lord III

Grey God

T C Southwell

Published by T C Southwell at Smashwords

Copyright © 2011 by T C Southwell

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One – The Wedding

Chapter Two – Power

Chapter Three – Grey God

Chapter Four – God Realm

Chapter Five – Dead Domain

Chapter Six – The Battle

Chapter Seven – Blue Mage

Chapter Eight – Light goddess

Chapter Nine – The Fetch

Chapter Ten – Angel

Chapter Eleven – Fire Dancer

Chapter Twelve – Shadow Storm

Chapter Thirteen – Blue Council

Chapter Fourteen – Black Mage

Chapter Fifteen – Saviour

Chapter One

The Wedding

Bane gazed across the sunny vale with a smile. The wedding preparations were at last complete. Days of planning and toil by many industrious people had culminated in a setting they perceived to befit his marriage, or at least, Mirra’s perception of it. She had chosen the location in this remote vale surrounded by wild forest. A swathe of emerald grass stretched away to a distant lake in the bosom of rolling hills.

A herd of deer grazed in the meadow, some with garlands around their necks or entwined in their antlers, decorations young healers had pressed upon them. Several aged horses grazed amongst them, which the healers took in when they grew too old for hard work, saving them from the butcher’s axe to pull light carts. On his right, an archway of intertwined red and white erros blooms awaited his presence beneath it, planted months ago when Mirra had chosen this place. A profusion of butterflies fluttered around, and birdsong wafted from the trees.

Young healers ran giggling across the flower-dotted grass, bedecked with garlands like the deer, and sweet scents wafted on gentle breezes. The balmy, magical day was a gift, he guessed, from the goddess. He turned at the sound of footfalls to find Grem and his father approaching, looking smart but a little uncomfortable in their new finery. They wore white silk shirts, dark brown tunics laced with gold, matching trousers, and black boots. When he reached Bane, Mithran inspected his son and tugged at Bane’s collar.

You look mighty fine, Son, like royalty.

Bane’s dark blue tunic was laced with gold like his father’s, and worn over a white satin shirt. Flame-like designs picked out in gold thread ornamented the collar and cuffs, and a pair of impeccably cut trousers and black boots completed his ensemble. Mithran looked around as a hush fell. The young healers ceased their play to run towards the white tent that had been set up at the edge of the meadow, where Jassid stood beckoning to them.

Looks like this is it, Grem said, shooting Bane a grin.

Bane sighed. Humans have such strange ceremonies. All this fuss and bother, when all I have to do is speak the words that bind us.

Well usually we need a priest for that, and they’re here as witnesses.

You and Grem would be witnesses enough, even if my word was not.

True. This is mostly for Mirra’s sake, I suppose.

I would prefer privacy.

Mithran chuckled and headed towards the floral archway. Bane followed with Grem at his side. The healers formed up into lines on either side of the route from the tent to the archway, each armed with a basket of petals. They glanced at him shyly as he passed, and some cast him timid smiles. Almost two years had passed since he had cast Arkonen back into the Underworld and recreated the wards he had broken to free the dark god, yet his bloody rampage across the Overworld remained fresh in the minds of many. Only a few people had been invited to his wedding, most of them Mirra’s friends from her old abbey. Grem and Mithran were Bane’s only guests. The healers expected a special guest to attend, however, and that had caused much unhappiness amongst uninvited elder mothers.

When they arrived at the archway, Mithran inspected Bane again, tugging and straightening his tunic. I wish your mother was here, he muttered. She’d be so proud.

Bane nodded, and Mithran stepped back as all heads turned toward the tent. The flaps opened and Mirra stepped out. Sunlight burnished the flaxen hair that framed her delicate face in a cascade of gleaming ringlets twined with wild blue flowers. A rosy flush coloured her cheeks, and her blue-green eyes shone with joy when she spied him waiting beneath the archway. A warm pang shot through Bane’s chest, a manifestation of the strange emotion he had come to know as love.

A simple, long-sleeved white satin dress clothed Mirra’s slender form, its hem, wide cuffs and V-neck edged with lace. A chain of wild flowers loosely encircled her waist, trailing long streamers of tiny blooms that swayed with the graceful motion of her strides. She had grown and matured in the last two years, although she still barely reached his shoulder. Tallis emerged from the pavilion behind her, her brown eyes sparkling. Bright yellow daisies decorated her mahogany hair, and she wore a healer’s plain white gown.

Ellese brought up the rear, wearing a serene smile and sprays of pink flowers in her iron-grey hair. Mirra clasped her hands, the long lace sleeves covering them. The healers who lined the way threw petals over her as she walked towards him on bare feet, and the woods rang with birdsong.

Grem nudged Bane, reminding him of the surprise he had planned for today. He spread his hands towards Mirra, and the air around her shimmered, making her glance up. Bright colours appeared over her in a shining rainbow. The attendant healers gaped at it, Tallis laughed and Ellese’s smile broadened.

Everyone stopped to admire the rainbow, and Bane clasped his hands. Mirra grinned and resumed her progress, the rainbow following her. The healers tore their eyes from it to scatter petals over her, and she approached with measured steps, although he was sure she fought the urge to run. When she reached his side, she faced him.

Mirra’s throat tightened as she gazed at his sculpted visage, with its narrow, high-bridged nose, slanted brows and plunging widow’s peak of jet hair that fell to his shoulders in blue-sheened wings. It seemed that she had waited an eternity for this day. His smile was gentle, and his fire-blue eyes shone with tenderness she would not have thought possible when she had met him, and at which she still marvelled. He held out his hands, and she slipped hers into them.

A hush fell as the birds stopped carolling, and the deer crept closer on dainty hooves. For a moment, everything seemed frozen in time, then Bane raised her hands and pressed his lips to the palm of each one in the strange gesture she had come to know. He often did it when they met after being apart, and sometimes when they parted. She had no idea what he was going to do, only that it would be a strange wedding ceremony indeed, with no priest to perform it. She had begged him to tell her what he planned, but he would not reveal it, and she waited with bated breath.

Bane leant closer and whispered, Do not move, and do not speak.

What are you going to do?

You will see.

Mirra searched his face for a clue as to his intentions, but his smile was inscrutable. He lowered his eyes to her hands and sank to one knee, making her breath catch. A murmur of amazement came from the healers, and Mithran and Grem swapped startled glances. Bane shook his head when she tried to tug him to his feet, and she desisted.

Mirra, he said, so softly that the healers leant closer. My heart belongs to you alone. No other has higher claim than you. The vows I make to you on this day shall bind me to you forever.

Mirra swallowed a lump, and her eyes overflowed. His odd, formal speech lent a strange and humbling gravity to his words. Something told her to remain standing, although she longed to throw herself into his arms.

He continued, You have gifted to me the precious oath of your betrothal, and I vow to protect and cherish you for all eternity. Never shall an untruthful word pass my lips in your presence. In you I shall trust, your sorrows I will share. Whatever brings you joy, I shall endeavour to provide. Any who dare to harm you will answer to me. All that is mine is yours. I give myself to you, in body and spirit, without reservation, for all the ages to come. Thus do I pledge my troth to you, and none shall gainsay me. Upon the speaking of these words I bind myself to you. Let the world bear witness.

Bane pressed the backs of her hands to his brow in a gesture that brought fresh gasps from the onlookers. Mirra tugged them free and knelt, unable to bear his humility. Sliding her arms around his neck, she whispered, I will love you forever too.

Bane stroked her hair. This is not exactly as it is supposed to be done.

Then you should have told me what to say, instead of making it a big secret.

Then it would not have been a surprise.

She sat back. This is like no wedding ceremony I have ever heard of.

Are you going to finish it before the natives grow restless?

Mirra wiped her cheeks. I do not know what to do.

Ellese leant closer, her eyes twinkling. I think you should make the same vows, my dear.

Bane inclined his head. Very astute of you, Elder Mother.

It would have helped if you had told her.

Mirra shook her head. No, I should have known. I am just... flabbergasted, that is all.

As are we all, Ellese murmured, straightening.

Bane’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. Flabbergasted?

Mirra said, Bane, I vow to stand by you, and share everything with you, be it good or bad. Nothing and no one shall part us. My love for you knows no bounds, and no other has greater claim to me than you. All that is mine is yours, and I give myself to you, body and soul, without reservation, forever.

She took his hands and pressed them to her brow, and when she lowered them, he kissed her softly on the lips and said, The speaking of these sacred words has bound us, and the world is witness to our sacrament. He stood up and pulled her to her feet. Therefore, I proclaim that we are life-bonded, and from this day forth, husband and wife.

Bane embraced her, and Mithran thumped him on the back. Tallis hugged her while the healers threw petals over them in a dancing rain. Grem shook Bane’s hand and Ellese hugged Mirra.

A soft, musical voice spoke behind them. Nicely done, My Lord.

Bane turned to face Lyriasharin. Sunlight gilded her patrician features and set gleams of red and gold in her chestnut hair. Her shimmering mother-of-pearl gown brushed the grass that sprouted lushly at her feet, and her green eyes sparkled with gold. Shining star flowers were twined into her hair and around her slender waist. Mithran, Grem, Tallis, Ellese and Mirra sank to their knees.

Bane said, I am glad you liked it.

Lyriasharin smiled and gestured for the little group to rise. It is not that it was a fine ceremony, I just wonder where you found those words.

He shrugged. They came to me, when I thought about it.

Of course they did. You have just performed a large portion of the life bond vows of my kind.

They seemed appropriate.

Certainly they are. I congratulate you both upon your nuptials, and wish you long life and happiness.

Mirra came to his side and slipped her hand into his, and Bane said to the goddess, I am glad you chose to attend, My Lady.

How could I not? Mirra is my special child, and you are kindred. It pleases me that you have found happiness together.

Especially since you arranged it.

Indeed.

Mirra remarked, I, too, thought it wonderful.

Now you may tell me why you were all so... flabbergasted, Bane said.

A tinge of pink crept into her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. Well... you knelt.

He raised his brows. Is that a social blunder?

No... It was just surprising for you to do it.

Lyriasharin said, Our kind does kneel when we enter into the life bond, child, which is why Bane did it. He has knowledge locked within him that he does not understand, but he follows it, which is good.

Bane shrugged. It seemed right to me, although I would have preferred not to have had an audience.

You followed your inner knowledge, and there was nothing wrong with what you did. Your wish for privacy is likewise inborn, for our kind makes our vows without witness.

And I will do it again, if I wish. Bane raised his free hand, and a golden cup appeared in it.

Lyriasharin’s smile broadened, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. So, your powers come upon you, My Lord.

I mastered this only a few days ago.

What is it? Mirra asked.

Ambrosia. It is what Lyriasharin’s kind live on.

Actually it is merely refreshment to us, she corrected him. We do not require it.

But I do?

You can survive just as well on mundane food.

Bane offered the cup to Mirra. Try some. It is good.

That is forbidden, My Lord, Lyriasharin stated.

Who will stop me?

Not I.

Good.

Mirra shook her head. I cannot. It is forbidden.

You can, if I say so.

My Lady will be displeased with me.

Bane snorted. No, she will be displeased with me, but I shall brave it. I want you to try it, just once; a wedding gift.

Mirra looked at the goddess, clearly torn, and Lyriasharin shrugged. Bane pressed the cup into her hand, but the moment he released it, the pearly liquid within it vanished. He frowned, and Lyriasharin cocked her head, her eyes sparkling.

You knew that would happen, he accused.

Of course.

Bane took the cup back, and the ambrosia reappeared. After pondering the problem for a moment, he held the goblet to Mirra’s lips.

She sipped it, and her eyes widened. It tastes like sunshine.

Bane chuckled. How do you know what sunshine tastes like?

I do not know how else to describe it. It is wonderful.

Mithran made a strangled sound, and looked as if he had just swallowed a live frog.

What is it, Father? Bane enquired.

You... you disobeyed the goddess, Son. You shouldn’t do that.

Bane cast Lyriasharin an amused look. I am sure I will displease her many times with my upstart ways.

You shouldn’t.

Bane’s smiled faded, and the cup vanished. As you wish, Father.

Mithran pulled a face and rubbed his brow. Hark at me, telling you what to do.

That is your right, is it not?

Mithran shook his head. On the one hand, yes, on the other, definitely not.

Treat him as your son, Mithran, Lyriasharin advised. It is, after all, who he is. Feel free to command him. You are one of only two, I suspect, who can claim that privilege.

Yes, but he’s also -

Do not argue with the goddess, Father, Bane chided.

Mithran looked anguished. Lyriasharin laughed and said, This is indeed confusing, good Mithran, which is why I recommend you forget what else Bane is.

Yes, My Lady. It’s just so strange that he... Usually I can forget what he is, but when he treats you with such disrespect...

Lyriasharin’s amusement faded. He is my peer, and you have more power over him than me.

Bane muttered, I wish you would all stop talking about me as if I was not here.

Mirra looked up at the glowing stripes. Thank you for the rainbow. It is beautiful.

I am glad it pleases you.

Of course it does.

The industrious healers bustled around, setting up a table and covering it with a vegetarian feast. None of them paid any attention to the goddess, and Bane realised that only he and those in his party could see her.

Very clever, My Lady, he remarked. Perhaps we should eat. I hope there is wine.

You know we do not drink wine, Mirra said.

That’s why we brought some. Grem grinned, then cast a sheepish look at Lyriasharin.

Good thinking. Bane headed for the feast table.

Mirra fell into step beside him. I hope you are not going to drink too much.

He chuckled. Would I do that on our wedding day?

I would not put it past you.

The goddess went to the edge of the forest and settled on the grass under a shady tree. Grem hurried off and returned with a flagon of wine, and the celebrants piled their plates, then found comfortable spots to sit and eat. Bane sat beside Lyriasharin, with Mirra on his left. Ellese joined their group, and for a while they ate in silence, the goddess sipping ambrosia. When it became clear that the group’s other members were not about to start a conversation with Lyriasharin, Bane did so.

Mirra listened to them, taking the opportunity to let her eyes linger on her husband. Over the past two years, she had come to know Bane far better, and her love had grown stronger than she would have thought possible. The effects of his upbringing, and wielding the darkness, had left him distrustful of everyone save her, his father and Grem, and they all strived to be worthy of it. It had taken many months for him to understand what a real joke was, unlike the cruel tricks that served as such in the Underworld, and to laugh at one. In this, Grem had proven to be the most effective teacher.

The grey-eyed warrior had gradually eroded Bane’s innate dislike for being teased, and had even, on occasion, played pranks on him, which had provoked angry reactions at first. Grem’s good-natured, back-slapping frankness and total disregard for Bane’s anger had taught Bane that such things were not intended as insults or meant to be degrading. The turning point had come when Grem had enlisted Bane’s aid to play a prank on Mithran. The resulting levity, along with his father’s jovial reaction, had finally convinced Bane that such things were intended to be enjoyed.

Mirra was grateful to Grem, who had proven to be more courageous than Mithran. He had been far too serious in his treatment of his son at first, and Bane’s demeanour towards his father had been too formal. Bane seldom used his powers, and then only for serious pursuits, or to please her. It had taken almost a year for Grem to persuade Bane to play a prank on Mirra. Grem had informed her that Bane had refused on the grounds that she would be upset, frightened or hurt by it. With her help, Grem had convinced Bane to go along with a minor prank that had been the source of much hilarity for several months, the very mention of it bringing gales of giggles from her. Since then, he had played a few rather lame tricks on her, and had been delighted by her amusement. What most amazed her was that he had not once used his powers to trick her, which would have made him the ultimate prankster. Bane had joined Grem in several other amusing pranks, and discovered the joy of such simple pleasures.

Grem had become part of the family without invitation or protest, but Mirra knew that, had he attempted to leave, Bane would have asked him to stay. Grem was somewhat older than Bane, and just the kind of mature male friend he needed, and he had profited from the friendship. Grem appeared to possess a great font of affection for Bane, and had taught him much about the Overworld and its people, as well as their customs, quirks and weaknesses.

Mirra’s thoughts strayed to the coming night, and her heart quickened. For almost two years, Bane had refused to bring the wedding date forward, confining her to no more than an occasional chaste kiss or hug. It had bothered her so much that she had spoken to Ellese about it on one of her visits to her old abbey. Elder Mother had assured her that it was just Bane’s way of showing his respect for the Overworld’s traditions, since Mirra was too young.

Mirra became aware that Bane had shifted away, removing the warmth of his leg