Chapter 27: An Old Enemy Returns

For some reason, the Lord Corrupter agreed to let me send you this journal from the land of the dead. The Shadow Wraiths used a similar method to send the Grave Tome to the material plane.

Ryan was swimming in a blue sky filled with white clouds. Fish made of water darted all around him. Butterbarts filled the air. Tiny creatures with butterfly wings, furry bodies, and birdlike beaks. They used to play with him as a child. The Butterbarts were catching the tiny fish made of water, sucking them up, and then spitting small streams of water at Ryan. He laughed merrily at their antics. He knew he was dreaming, and he knew that he shouldn’t be. There was something important he needed to be doing, but he couldn’t remember what that important thing was.

Though the dream was pretty awesome, it was still missing something essential something to make it perfect. Then it appeared. The thing the dream was missing. Éclair floated in front of him, tall and glorious in a thin, white toga that exposed her shoulders and accentuated her perfect figure like some kind of Greek Goddess. She was smiling and laughing as the Butterbarts and the water fish danced around her, buzzing like a swarm of insects, only not so annoying.

But there was something else that was missing. Something to make it all come together. And then that happened too. It was snowing. Ryan now floated in a dark blue sky filled with tufts of glowing white snowflakes that shined like stars. Éclair now wore a red and white fur coat. She laughed as she held up a Christmas present to him. It was a big square box bound in red wrapping paper and tied neatly with a green ribbon. Ryan was more excited about the prospect of getting a present from Éclair than whatever could be inside. It was everything he ever wanted. Éclair and Christmas. The only thing that was missing now was...

“Ryan,” called a familiar voice.

Ryan turned around to see the floating form of Kevla. Somehow, she was still in the daylight part of his dream with clouds and water fish and Butterbarts. Meanwhile, he floated in the nighttime part with Éclair giggling at him and shoving her Christmas present towards him. And all of sudden, Ryan remembered what he needed to be doing. Worse, he remembered the last part of his dream that had yet to appear ... the part that involved his parents. For a moment, he had forgotten that they had died a long time ago. He wished he could still forget that part.

Kevla stared at the Christmas Dream Éclair in puzzlement. “Is this what they call a boyish fantasy?”

Christmas Dream Éclair continued to giggle and shove the Christmas present into Ryan’s hand. He gently pushed her away, feeling his cheeks go purple with embarrassment. “Yeah. That’s exactly what this is. A boyish fantasy. Christmas presents is all I ever fantasize about.”

Good thing that it was just the Christmas Éclair this time, he thought to himself. Usually, Éclair’s wearing stuff that’s a bit more ... revealing.

Kevla cocked her head. “You do know that thinking to yourself is the same thing as speaking in this place, right? Your thoughts and your words happen simultaneously here.”

“Drat!” he said. “I mean, I totally knew that.” However, as he willed himself to say that, the truth of his thoughts echoed out, and said, I totally did not know that!

Kevla just raised her eyebrow at him and crossed her arms.

“Anyway,” he said as if nothing had happened, making himself float through a school of flying water fish to hover beside Kevla. “We have more important things to do. If I’m here, then I’ve been knocked for a loop upstairs. So I’m guessing that means it’s time for Plan B. Did you find the contact your dad mentioned?”

Kevla gave a brief shake of her head. “I can’t contact the souls in the ship anymore. I think my father somehow blocked them off from me in case I tried.”

Ryan frowned, but then an idea formed just as quickly. “Could you ... could we get to that soul using your dad’s memories? If he’s blocking that soul off, he must still be connected to it.”

Kevla put fists to her sides and nodded resolutely with an approving smile. “You catch on to the tricks of the Third Plane quickly. I’ve already begun to steal into my father’s mind. Normally, such a thing would be impossible for me, but he’s under duress fighting one of the Fallen. He’s been trying unsuccessfully to seep into the creature’s thoughts.”

Kevla’s face darkened as her lips trembled in horror. “I ... I also tried to tap into their thoughts. They are ... they are so alien. So unnatural. They are nothing like us, Ryan. They never were. I ... I don’t think my father has any chance of surviving against them for long. I want to take him away from this place. I want to...”

Ryan put a hand, or at least the idea of a hand, to Kevla’s shoulder. Or at least, the idea of Kevla’s shoulder. “We will,” he said soothingly, calming her a bit. “We will take him away from this place. We’ll take them all away. But first, we need to give ourselves a fighting chance.”

Kevla composed herself, standing more erect than before. “I just need your help to break through the last of my father’s defenses. If we can combine our efforts, I know we’ll find the information we need, but he won’t give it up willingly.”

Echoes of the battle thrummed through the air, causing the Butterbarts and the flying water fish to scatter in terror. Ryan looked up as his dreamworld began to shake with roars and shouting. “You’re doing that time perception thingy so that we have more time here than in the real world.”
“Yes, but I’m not as good at it as my father, so we better hurry.” Kevla then took Ryan’s hand, and together, they soared through the skies at the speed of thought.

Leaping from his own mind to Kormal’s mind was a dizzying journey. The blue sky with white clouds vanished into a violet sky with gray clouds. Below, fields of blue grass and luminescent trees of pink and magenta dotted the landscape. The light was dim, but not unpleasant. Overall, the new environment conveyed a peaceful, relaxing environment. Kind of like the feeling of contentment that would wash over him as he watched the sunset at twilight.

“We’re in father’s mind. He uses this mental image to center himself, especially when he’s stressed. This is our homeworld,” Kevla explained.

Despite the calmness of the surrounding landscape, Ryan could feel Kormal’s anxiety. Though this place did make up the currents of the Sage’s thoughts, he could tell that it was a sham. This was not how Kormal felt. This was how he wanted to feel. It was his last grasp of sanity as he grappled with an opponent he had no way of defeating. Ryan began feeling tired and sore, as if he’d been battling for hours. He felt his heartbeat rising as fear threatened to overwhelm him.

And then he saw it. Up ahead in front of them, and steadily drawing closer as they flew over the blue landscape, the violet sky became bloodred. A black swirling cloud appeared on the horizon, almost like a tornado, with crackles of yellow lightning and bellowing fires swirling all around it.

Kevla didn’t have to tell Ryan what he already had figured out for himself. That vortex of destruction was most likely the core of Kormal’s present awareness as he struggled against the Fallen. The Sage was in a battle and probably felt as chaotic and turbulent as that brewing storm over the horizon.

Kevla gritted her teeth. “We have to hurry! He’s fading fast! He’s not going to last much longer!”

They dove straight into swirling clouds filled with fire and lightning. The clouds buffeted them, though they held true to their course. Lightning and fire swirled all around them, but they were somehow untouched. Kormal’s mental defenses were not focused on them. He had only one adversary in mind at the present.

At the center of the tornado, they saw Kormal. He was grappling with a shadow. Or at least, it was mostly made of shadows. The creature was a mass of swirling black shadows that partially connected it to the swirling black cloud. But at the center of the shadow thing, Ryan saw the outline of something made of white light. It was the outline of a man in white. The man looked like a shadow made of light at the center of the black cloud. The swirling energies of black and white contrasted with one another, but somehow remained firm as the creature battled the Sage.

Kormal, wielding his flying knives that swirled around him like a swarm of bees, cried out in defiance as he held the shadow of light and darkness at bay, but only barely. He didn’t even notice as Ryan and Kevla floated to the ground behind him. Kevla raised her hands, and the black clouds that swirled around them began to take shape into more concrete images. Ryan heard Kormal’s voice and the voices of other people. He heard and saw the black clouds take on images of himself and the other members of Squad 99. He even heard his own voice, things he said to Kormal perhaps only a few moments ago.

Kevla’s hands shook from the effort, but she did not relent as the images circled around them, their voices sounding both distant and close at the same time. “I’m accessing his short-term memories. I’m trying to focus on one specific memory from a few minutes ago. But it is ... difficult.”

Ryan took Kevla by the hand. He didn’t know what to do to help her, but he thought that perhaps if he conveyed his desire to help, then perhaps that would translate to actual help in this place.

Ryan’s hand glowed red and Kevla seemed to find renewed energy as she raised her hands up higher. “That line of reasoning actually does make sense, Ryan. Desire becomes action in this place. You’re beginning to understand the Third Plane faster than I thought you would.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess.”

Probably shouldn’t think too hard on seeing Éclair in a bikini right now. Since I really, really want to see that, then it might actually happen in a place like this. She’d never let me live that down if she ever found out.

Kevla clenched her eyes shut in annoyance and shook her head. “Oh, thoughts like that aren’t at all distracting!”

“Sorry,” he said and thought at the same time.

Finally, the image and words appeared in the black clouds. “Because I do not trust him,” said an echoey voice of Kormal as an image of Kevla appeared in the clouds above them. “And if you know whom I am referring to, you would feel the same.”

Kormal, the actual Kormal fighting against the shadow of light and darkness, finally seemed to notice their existence. He turned his head towards them while keeping up a barrage of flying blades to cut the shadow man of darkness and light as it shrieked angrily.

“Kevla?” he said.

“Ryan!” she said in a strained voice, her power seeming to weaken as the desired memory faded and reappeared in the sky. “I could use some more imagined help that turns into real help!”

Ryan put both hands on Kevla, imagining a furnace that needed fuel, and the wood bursting into flame. His hands glowed an even brighter shade of red, and that energy seemed to transfer directly into Kevla. He realized that it was a lot like the way Elementals could transfer psions to their friends when they were in need.

The image of Kevla grew larger, and Kormal’s echoey voice became louder. “Because I do not trust him! Because I do not trust him! Because I do not trust him!” Kormal’s haunting words repeated over and over.

The real Kormal reached towards Kevla. “Beloved! Don’t! You cannot know what it could cost you if you speak with him!”

Kevla opened her eyes to meet her father’s gaze. “I know what it will cost me if I don’t do this! You’re life! All our lives! You’ve protected me for so long! Please, let me protect you this time!”

Kormal took a step towards Kevla, but the shadow of light and darkness suddenly batted away his blades and wrapped him in tendrils of black and white smoke. Kormal struggled to break free, but to no avail.

Kormal shook his head in anguish, his black eyes going watery as continued to pull against the white and black smoke. “You don’t understand! It could be a fate worse than death for someone like you!”

Kevla gave Kormal a sad smile. “Then it’s a good thing that both of us have faced things worse than death before.”

Sighing in defeat, Kormal returned his attention to his battle with the shadow of light and darkness. “Just be careful!” He gave one last look to both Kevla and Ryan. “Both of you!”

Ryan and Kevla answered at the same time. “We will.”

The information they needed suddenly became clear as day in both Ryan’s and Kevla’s minds. The memory of Kormal speaking to one of the souls in the walls came into focus. Their wills uniting as one, Ryan and Kevla seized on the memory, allowing it to take them where they needed to go.

Ryan was in a city, but very unlike the city planet of Tarrus. The buildings were black and the sky was dark orange. The way the roofs of the buildings were shaped like black spikes, becoming more and more slender as they went up into the orange sky, made for a foreboding sight. And along each rooftop, overlooking the streets were the most grotesque statues that Ryan had ever seen.

The gray-stoned statues were sticking out of the rooftops, lined up in perfect formation along the spiked roofs. They had no lower halves, but their upper halves depicted winged creatures with batlike faces snarling viciously, tongues sticking out and fangs exposed. Their eyes were frenzied as they stared ahead hungrily as if ready to devour anything they encountered. The claws of the monsters were extended towards the ground as if they were reaching towards Ryan to strangle him. The shoulder wings flapped out as if the creatures might take flight at any moment to snare helpless victims in the night.

“Well, whoever this guy is, he sure knows how to make his guests feel welcomed. I mean, seriously. How gothic can you get? Right, Kevla?”

Ryan had been expecting a reply. He’d gotten used to her constant presence. When none came, he searched around for her. When he didn’t see her, he tried to sense her. He figured she was just hiding somewhere in his psyche. Since this was still the Third Plane, there was no telling what tricks she might pull. She was probably messing with him. She had developed a mischievous streak after all. Though, he couldn’t know where she was getting that from.

Ryan concentrated, but still he couldn’t sense her. It was the first time since she came into his mind that he could feel no trace of her. Even when he couldn’t directly see her, he could still sense her. He always knew that she was there right by his side. Given how terrifying his life had become recently, her constant presence was comforting. Now, that comfort had been stripped from him.

“Kevla! Kevla! Where are you? This isn’t funny! I mean, I know I act like it’s funny when I pull stuff like this, but in this particular situation when lives are literally on the line, it is most definitely not funny!”

As he searched for her, finding nothing but ugly statues, their horrible faces eternally frozen into gruesome snarls, he almost felt like they were alive and mocking him in his panicked state.

“Kevla!” he shouted futilely into the orange sky stuffed to the gills with horrendous statues.

“The child is not here,” said a whispering voice behind him, a voice Ryan had never expected to hear again. “I already told her father. I did not want to speak to anyone but you. But do not worry. She will return to you once we have finished our business.”

Ryan turned around slowly to face the newcomer, uncertain of what he should be feeling, Anger, regret, or fear. He honestly didn’t know how he should regard this man. Regardless, he now understood why Kormal was so hesitant to incorporate this man’s help.

Ryan kept his guard up as he turned to face his former enemy. “Gotta say, never thought I’d see you again. Can’t say it’s a reunion that I’m looking forward to.”

Galzar Slithe wasn’t looking at him. The Goblin looked exactly like Ryan remembered him. Long, bat-like ears. Greasy green skin with dark splotches. Tangled, black hair draped over his face. Average height and wearing tattered gray robes that made him look like a beggar. And a twisted, ugly nose. He was staring up at the statues.

“For the record, they’re called zankaserfs,” the Goblin said. “In our tongue, it means good spirits.”

Ryan gave the hideous carvings a sidelong glance. “Good spirits, huh? You think that might be a mis ... Oh, what’s the word. Missed number.”

Galzar turned his head lazily to regard Ryan with a single, yellow eye. Not too long ago, that eye would’ve made Ryan’s blood run cold. “A misnomer?”

Ryan snapped his fingers and pointed. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Galzar returned to his scrutiny of the statues. “Goblins have a different aesthetic than humans. To us, the title is a perfect representation of their purpose for us. They are ‘good spirits’ in that they contain the evil that each of us are capable of.”

Galzar then walked forward and put a hand on a statue that was ground-level, stroking its muzzle as if it were a lover. “In the past, we took part in the Mage rituals to create Cthulhu, willingly sacrificing our own people to the Dark Water in order to change them into killing machines. The Cthulhu themselves were based on much older creatures called Gargoyles.”

Ryan sucked in a sharp breath. How could he say something like that so casually?

Galzar stared at the statue sadly. “At the time, we were trying to be of use to the Dark Dragon Lords in their war against the Elementals. Before death took me, I began to regret just how much we sacrificed of our souls for the sake of revenge. How much I sacrificed of Silvia’s soul for the sake of my own personal vengeance.”

Ryan, trying not to react at hearing Silvia’s name, appraised the statues in a new light. “Then these statues...”

“They were inspired by the Gargoyles. In ancient times, before the process was perfected, many dabbling in Dark Water and Shadow Elemency created a few prototype Cthulhu from stone, and called them Gargoyles. Some traveled to the human’s home planet before you mastered interstellar travel, terrorizing the early peoples of your race. Since the process wasn’t yet complete, those Gargoyles quickly turned back to stone when they ran out of energy, inspiring many of your ancient artisans to replicate the process.”

For the first time, Galzar faced Ryan full-on. “But for us, they have a different meaning than just fear. They are a reminder of our dark deeds. We pray that whatever evil remains in our hearts will be transferred to these statues. In that sense, we can live pure lives as we use these statues to contain our wicked impulses.”

“Yeah,” said Ryan, taking a few steps to the side when he noticed more statues on the ground near him. “I’m guessing since you still tried to kill us off in the end, they don’t work that well, do they?”

Galzar didn’t respond. His hurt silence almost made Ryan feel bad enough to apologize. Almost.

Ryan sighed. “Look, I’m not here to wax nostalgic on our past beef with each other. You wanted me here to tell me something. Well, now I’m here. In the real world, we’re getting our asses handed to us by those creeps in the masks. Is there anything you can tell me that’ll help us not die?”

“Well, that is the general reason that I brought you here,” Galzar said slowly.

He came towards Ryan, taking deliberate, disciplined steps. Ryan remembered how he moved all too well. Silently and smoothly like a cat stalking a mouse. It made Ryan a little edgy as the Goblin drew closer and closer.

“After all, I owe it to my daughter to see that you live. She would have wanted me to do this for you.”

The Goblin now stood within striking distance as he halted his advance. It took all of Ryan’s willpower to keep from lashing out at his old adversary. “Alright then, spill,” Ryan said.

Galzar rubbed his green hands together, his long, black fingernails almost akin to claws. “Before that, I need you to promise me something. Promise me that you will grant me one favor when you leave this place. When you leave the Fallen’s ship.”

“What’s the favor?”

Galzar interrupted, his face becoming intense as he leaned forward aggressively. “I will only tell you after you have agreed to grant the favor. No matter what it is, you will do it. Your Saurian honor demands no less.”

Ryan frowned. “That’s too much wiggle room, pal. How am I supposed to know you won’t request something I can’t grant? Like something that’ll hurt me or my friends?”

“I can promise you that my request will cause no harm to anyone, that includes you and your friends. It is simply a personal matter.”

Ryan sighed. “I can’t know how much time I got here, so I don’t have the luxury to argue with you. Besides. I’m pretty sure you’re not the type to pull petty tricks like that. I agree to your terms. Now, tell me what I need to know, starting with what the hell these Fallen guys are.”

Something occurred to Ryan that gave him pause. “And on that note, what are you doing here anyway? How can you be one of the souls the Fallen collected? Don’t they have to ... I don’t know ... suck your soul out or something? From what I heard, you killed yourself to keep from giving up information during your interrogation.”

For the first time since this bizarre conversation began, Galzar smiled. “They did not have to ‘suck my soul out’, as you put it, because I had already given up my soul when I made a contract with them and the Mages.” Galzar held out a hand. Black smoke materialized from his fingertips, solidified, and took the shape of one of his curvy black daggers that he used in their fight.

Ryan jumped back, expecting an attack. He knew what it felt like to be stabbed by one of those things, and it was an experience he wanted to avoid in the future.

“Do not be alarmed,” reassured Galzar as the black dagger hovered in his hand. “It is not real. None of this is real, in case you have forgotten. I am just trying to demonstrate my point with a visual aid.”

Galzar waved his other hand over the floating knife, and it vanished in a puff of black smoke. “If you recall, I used low-tier Shadow Elemency in our battle. I also used it to take control of the corpse of Christopher Palms in order to put the blame for Senator Randals’ assassination on him. I gained that power when I made a deal with the Fallen. They said it would help me in my mission, and it did.”

Galzar looked down at his hand, as if analyzing an abnormality within his green palm. “Through our bond of blood, I could transfer some of my abilities to Silvia, but I was the one who made a contract with the Fallen. Not her. My soul is the one bound to this place. Her soul...”

He then looked up at Ryan. A sad smile spread across his lips as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Her soul is bound for a place much better than anything I ever gave her. At least, I hope it is.”

Before Ryan could process Galzar’s new tenderness, the Goblin gestured all around them. “Each one of us is given a place like this – all the souls that have made contracts with the Fallen. Our prison is one made to be familiar and comfortable so that we perform our duties without complaint and contribute energy to the ship whenever the Fallen need it. We can even occasionally visit one another if we wish, but most of us prefer our solitude. I certainly do.”

Ryan looked around in astonishment, his mind reeling at the possibilities. It’s like the Matrix, but you know it’s the Matrix, and you stay anyway.

As he thought on everything he just learned, he couldn’t help but ask, “But why would anyone want to make a deal with the Fallen?”

Galzar shrugged. “For various reasons. The Fallen have a great deal of power. Those that make deals with them can share in that power, at least for a time. But mostly, I would say it is to stave off judgement.”

Galzar put his hands behind his back and paced in front of Ryan as he continued his explanation. “This vessel is aptly named the Purgatory. The souls trapped here go to neither heaven nor hell, though most who end up here deserve the latter. The Fallen tend to attract killers from the worse walks of life. Many of those killers are superstitious. Despite all the advancements made in the modern era, death is an inescapable fact of life. Even many of those who do not believe in the Light Realm or the Shadow Realm fear the insurmountable unknown that is death, and would do anything to avoid it.”

Galzar pointed all around him for emphasis. “This ship ... for many, it is an acceptable compromise, especially for those who do not know if they will be granted a stay in paradise after they die. Though this place is far from paradise, it is not abject suffering. It is confined servitude, plain and simple. But not torturous, at least not by my standards of the word.”

“So, the people trapped here are just ... okay with this?” asked Ryan in disbelief.

“For the most part, yes. Occasionally, the Fallen will ask a great deal of energy from us, but it is not overly painful. Just tiring. Most of the souls right now are working overtime with all that the Fallen are requiring of them, hence their lethargic state. Besides, as I said, it is preferable compared to where most of us would have ended up. I, for one, have no delusions on where my crimes in life would have taken me in death.”

Ryan eyed Galzar suspiciously. “If it’s really that great, then why are you betraying the Fallen? Aren’t you scared of what they might do to you? Maybe they’ll revoke your contract and send you to the Shadow Realm.”

Anger seemed to resonate on Galzar’s face for the first time, but Ryan didn’t think that the anger was directed at him. Galzar held out two green fingers. “For two reasons. One, you arrived. As soon as I sensed your presence in the vessel, I knew that my daughter would have wanted me to help you. And two, because I found out something when I came here. Something the Fallen never told me when I was alive. So now, the risk of hell itself is worth the payback I intend to inflict on them while I have the chance through you.”

Not entirely convinced, Ryan crossed his arms and said, “What did you find out?”

Galzar just continued to glare angrily ahead at nothing in particular with yellow eyes filled with rage.

When it became clear that Galzar would not answer, Ryan raised his hands in defeat. “Fine! Don’t tell me! Just answer me this. How ... how can the Fallen do what they do? Create portals into alternate dimensions, but only on this ship? How is something like that even possible?”

Galzar then stroked his chin in thought as if considering the best way to explain himself. “I would say it would have to do with their nature. What they are, the Fallen ... they are not from this world.”

Ryan slapped his head in exasperation. “Doy! Why didn’t I think of that? Of course they’re not from this world, dofus! In case you didn’t know, Galsin is a moon populated by Monks! I’m pretty sure they would’ve noticed genocidal masked maniacs by now! So it’s kind of a given that the Fallen aren’t from this world!”

If Galzar was at all annoyed, he didn’t show it as he answered in that eerily quiet whispering voice of his. “I mean they are not from this universe, or any universe of the Physical Realm. They were banished from their own reality. As such, they are privy to secrets of interdimensional travel that we are not. From what I have been able to gather when I arrived here, the Fallen created the Pathways to other dimensions in an attempt to return to their home. However, they failed to find their universe.”

“Furthermore,” Galzar continued. “As you have experienced, the Pathways are imperfect. They cannot truly transport someone to an alternate universe, only partially impose them to give a small taste of what lies on the other side. You have already seen what happens to denizens from those other realities who are brought from the Pathways into our universe. That, too, would eventually happen even to the Fallen if they stayed in the Pathways for too long. The barriers between dimensions were sealed long ago by the Prime Minister himself. Anything that is not from our universe cannot exist here for long.”

Ryan remembered in chilling detail how that giant orange man disintegrated only seconds after Grafael forced him through the Pathway. He now understood what had happened to it. “Alright then. How do we stop them?”

Before Galzar could answer, a scream echoed down the streets. A woman’s scream.

Ryan leaned into a crouch, ready for anything. “I thought you said we were alone here!”

Instead of answering, Galzar ran off in the direction of the scream. Cursing under his breath, Ryan followed. He didn’t have to follow long. As Ryan rounded the corner, the buildings all vanished. He now stood in a bedroom. Family pictures and holograms lined the walls. Potted plants on shelves and on the floors darted all around the room and on the floor. Ryan’s throat constricted when he saw that the plants were filled with blue flowers, the same kind of flower that Silvia had given to him before she died.

On the bed in the center of the room sat a middle-aged woman with long, brown hair. She wore a plain dress with a blue skirt and a white top with long sleeves. The woman looked very pale and held her head in clear distress as she sobbed uncontrollably. Galzar lovingly stroked the woman’s other hand as he attempted to calm her. Only, it wasn’t Galzar. It was a man. A human the same height and build as Galzar, but with blond hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. Still, there was no mistaking Galzar’s voice as he whispered comforting words to the woman.