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lunes, 1 de julio de 2019

Heretics and Idiots

Für Cielo, an amused muse.

Heretics and Idiots:

            Coordinate your legs! Do not fall!
Run, run, run for your life! Don’t throw up that beer, you paid for it!
Run, faster! Run!
Her legs burnt, her lungs started failing and she couldn’t catch her breath, every movement felt like headache and, in the middle of her drunkenness, the world didn’t seem to know where it was.
Skin like parchment, muscle and sinew strings, clotted blood after her and her iron, stained and shiny, defying the moon. They growled, coming on her heels.
And she, determined, stared at that gate before her, as the ground under her feet looked to be following another way.
In a time like that, they were faster than her, and she knew it.
High grass passed her by like a dark blur. Her sword finished two of them standing in her way, the sister’s movements were perfect, although, she burped when exhaling as she thrusted her blade at one of them. Surprisingly, she also killed a third one when hauling her sword out from the second undead skull.
She kept on running, more tired. She hit the door with her body, unable to stop. She opened it. She closed it. She used herself to barricade it.
Where she was?
Chairs, tables, wall made of stone… ¿a lounge?
–Twelve chimes on the other side of reality… –a man was sitting over there, absent-mindedly looking to the infinite.
–The dead are going to break through! –she shouted–. We need to bar this gate!
–…souls gather before the primeval fear…
–Hey, asshole, help me out!
–…the horned lords shall bow their heads…
She needed to find an escape route, they would probably get distracted with that madman, giving her time enough to run away without being followed.
Moonlight, as it passed through their thick glass, coloured the floor in darkness.
The dead banged at the door and at the stained glass windows. She wasn’t sure she could hold on much longer.
She saw a postern.
And she plunged at it.
And that door opened.
A staff casted an intense pale blue glow, glimmering still as no fire could ever do. The dead instantly froze.
–I need your help –said a young man voice–. Are you drunk?

That madman didn’t stop blathering and the necromancer, visibly fascinated, started to take notes.
Zoe, in that unreal situation, decided to vomit.
Sombra, her crow, managed to get through and join her. It cawed as it flew from her shoulder to the nearby tables.
Long minutes after that Zoe addressed the necromancer:
–Aatami, what are you doing here? Why in hell did you kill these people?
–I did it in self-defence –he answered plainly.
–Against librarians? Do you really want to convince me you didn’t set up and scenario in which you didn’t foresee them assailing you?
–I guess the show is part of the job: black clothes, skulls… people like to know what to expect –he laughed–. If I am robbed, does that mean that I am asking for it?
She looked at him, annoyed.
–They attacked me when having sight of my staff –he said, now noticeably angry–. I asked them if I could commence certain readings and they attacked me –he insisted–. This is a library and I wanted to read and I wanted nobody to kill me because of it. I honestly thought this was the proper place for that –he defended himself, showing her a book out from his cloak.
She counted those corpses on the floor.
–Hey, and about the fifteenth librarian… –she mentioned–, was it also in self-defence?
–Perhaps you find it hard to believe but, I promise you, it wasn’t a turn-based combat.
–I’m sorry, I’m not used to take the necromancers’ side: I hunt you –she explained–. I hunt you all and your creations –her crow cawed–. Do you think there are no reasons to destroy you all?
–That answer requires from certain nuances and that is precisely why I am here. Do you fancy a tea?
–Of course.
–That man picked my interest. He can be either an oracle or just insane. We’ll bring him with us. Someone should feed him. As we get out, could you please kill those zombies?

She glared at the bruised and fractured face of that last zombie standing on the field, face to face, her choked breathing as a sign of her exhaustion. That dead body was shredded skin, traces of muscle and bone. The female undead stood completely still. A blood blister on her cheek. A wound in her shoulder, punctured.
Zoe looked in her eyes, for a moment they reflected a plea close to sadness, it was just an instant. It lasted just an instant.

–How can a cabin in the woods be so cosy? –she asked right after Aatami gave her a small glass of tea. They were illuminated by the candlelight.
–Do you know what this man is talking about? –the necromancer queried, observing that strange fellow in a corner.
–I don’t think he does either…
–He’s relating an old prophecy –that madman went on reciting those unfathomable verses.
–The kind that mentions those Highly Unfriendly Gods?
–We called them the Ancient Ones back in the Academy. What do you know about the Church?
–It’s divided in four branches: the Sisterhood of the Death, which I belong to; the War Maidens, who ironically don’t tend to take part in any war; the… Wait a moment, why the hell are you asking about this?
–I incorrectly formulated my question, my apologies. Do you know anything about the Church origins? Why it was created?
–To erase necromancy. Well, the Church of War doesn’t seem to have any purpose other than the practice, and… the Church of Disease works on healing it, and the Famine one is up to alleviate it. But the Sisterhood is the first branch. My sisters and I work making sure dead things stay dead. Judging by your looks, I don’t get a single one right.
–How long have you been a sister?
–I was a little child when I arrived to the monastery, given that I started fighting when I was around fourteen or fifteen years old… I guess I’m a sister since you were born.
–And you never wondered why necromancers are, why they can’t extinguish their own creations, only bring them to a halt?
–Yeah, but when I’m killing them, they can’t give the best answers –Sombra cawed and flapped its black feathers.
–Let’s come back to your Highly Unfriendly Gods. They devastated the world more than a thousand years ago.
–That’s true –she agreed.
–Do you know where they extracted their energy from, which allowed them to access our reality?
–Mmm…
–Have you ever asked yourself how do we necromancers reanimate the dead?
–I hope this isn’t a tricky question. Errr… with magic? –Zoe ventured.
–The dead still have a spark of life we use, to utterly destroy it the Death sisters must finish them.
–Are you telling me that those Highly Unfriendly Gods obtain their energy from the undead?
–No, I’m telling you they obtain that energy from the dead, from all of them. I know it breaks your official tale, but the Church of Death was born along with the Academy of Necromancers to ensure that any remaining energy in every corpse was properly extinguished and, thus, the Old Ones couldn’t make any use of it.
–Are you making such affirmation on any basis?
–Yes, indeed I spent the last two years of my life on gathering documental support for this theory.
Aatami reached a shelf and placed some ominously bulky codices on the table.
Are you making such affirmation on any summarized basis? –she enquired in an alarmed tone of voice–. I won’t read that, no way. Besides, where did you get those books?
–Some of them from the forbidden city of Untersagt. Regarding this one –he said about the book he just borrowed– from the Svalbard Library. I believe they have a shortage of librarians now.
–But what could have happened? Necromancers don’t go around now summoning undead so that my sisters can kill them, I’ve never heard of something like that. In fact, they muster small armies of undead people to achieve their own goals. And reasonably, to defeat those zombies in the long run, we need to face every necromancer we find as well.
–Certainly, what remains today is nothing but a residual tale about ancient rituals, already forgotten. In case my theory is correct, consequences are going to be… lingering, nonetheless. And I love being right, but the only way to be always right is to admit when you’re wrong, so let’s tread carefully.
–Who the fuck would’ve covered something like that?
–Probably nobody, probably everybody.
–Not a very specific answer.
–Honestly, Zoe, I don’t believe there’s a conspiracy to set the Old Ones free, I don’t think there’s anybody to blame for devising an evil plan which will lead us to our extinction. In my opinion men and women forgot their History through centuries of infighting for power, I’ve read about small groups attempting to keep the essence of our struggle or to transform it, I’ve read about frontiers colliding and countries at war which had other priorities to handle provided the Sisterhood of the Death was relatively present. Taking the writings into account, at some point during the fourth century the alliance between the Church and the Academy was so deteriorated that all communication got cut. It is easy to imagine how a black legend around the Academy could have been spread and it’s a reasonable consequence that, after years of vicious prosecution and hunt and constant endeavour to regroup, the necromancers themselves adapted little by little to that narrative. There are copies of these books in Untersagt, meaning that at least a few people kept these records and possibly had some knowledge about how the world looked like after the Old Ones coming.
–I guess the Highly Unfriendly Gods must perceive a lot of energy after the Warming and the Wars Age… why they didn’t come sooner? Our ancestors were famous due to their discoveries and technology, but also for killing and slaving millions of people throughout the centuries.
–I’m afraid I can only offer speculations to you –he answered.
–And what’s the relation between all that and this guy? –interrogated Zoe while looking at that ever muttering man.
–I don’t know, perhaps he lost his sanity, but in case he is an oracle as he looks like… He would be warning us about our close end. It makes sense considering that energy accumulation by the Old Ones is a constant and slow process.
–And what do I have to do with this? –she probed.
–You’re going to help me –Aatami answered–, you’re a legend, aren’t you?.
–Are you crazy?! –she roared–. I am a necromancer’s friend, I’m not the most orthodox Death’s sister, precisely. I might be a legend but they look at me as if I were a weirdo, man! –after some cursing time she managed to calm herself–. You say I must help you. Help you with what? –of course, she was already afraid of the words he was going to pronounce.
–Help me restore the alliance between Church and Academy and find any mean to destroy the Old Ones or reinforce dimensional boundaries –the wizard stated.
–You’re freaking out. And I’m freaking out, you’re telling me the world…
–…is not what it looks like. But it makes sense, am not I right?
They drank their tea, pensively.
At first they didn’t notice, but it was already there.
A deep silence broke through the cabin, so intense that they were capable of hearing their own hearts pumping blood, their breath too loud, their eyelids when blinking, their hair standing on end, their ears clicking while reacting to that absence of any external sound.
Perhaps instinctively, they gazed at the oracle: his body bloated and rippled, his skin darkened, every part of him seemed to get torn off and reassembled. The echo of those abhorrent sounds among the emptiness reverberated inside the heads like a nightmare.
A beast beyond definition had managed to cross in order to devour all sanity.
And the flow of time had ended.


3 comentarios:

  1. Mi inglés es básico y no me permite apreciar demasiadas cosas. En la primera parte capté que Zoe, borracha, corre porque es perseguida ¿por la muerte? y no entendí si ella, o alguien más, corta cabezas con su espada. Se refugia en una casa y allí se encuentra con tipo medio raro.
    Después me perdí y mucho más no pude rescatar con un tercer personaje que aparece. Supongo que es la continuación de un relato largo o de una novela.
    Te mando un gran abrazo, Marta.

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    Respuestas
    1. Hola, Mirella, muchas gracias por tu visita. Éste es el primer capítulo de una novela de que mezcla elementos de la ciencia-ficción, fantasía y terror con un poco de filosofía, ecología, feminismo y asperger. Pero no tienes por qué leerla en inglés: tienes este mismo texto en español justo en la entrada anterior.

      ¡Un abrazo! ^_^

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    2. Gracias, Marta, no me di cuenta, se me habrá pasado.
      Besos.

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