Espara part.08

   Seven years have passed since Migdra the Witch of the North Woods awoke Rhulan from her dreamlike deathly slumbering imprisonment beneath the sea. In this time Rhulan has seduced, negotiated, and otherwise brought forth an alliance of nations beneath her, an empire, the Hayzore, Garigland, Gorodos, and Marchiock, have all joined her willingly. More would rise on the side of the newly founded, or rather officiated Garudan Church Empire, despite or perhaps because of Rhulan’s initial assault upon Hell its self and the death of an angel the beings on high did not aid the Church Empire directly in the early days of the war the Church declared upon the empire ruled by two empresses. Migdra would find herself a queen, as she was with child, Rhulan’s child; the babe to be named Rhudra.

 

     ******

 

   The sky rains with the blood of angels, the heavenly host has joined the fray at the holy isle of Isadel. It was here centuries past that the holy covenant of man and Garudan was first enacted. If this were but a conflict between human worshippers of Garudan the heavenly host would not dare intervene. As things stand the wooden ships and gunpowder loaded cannon balls of the church do not stand a chance against the five great witches that surround the island with their monstrous forms and terrible magic.

 

   Shora the giant blue eel woman smashes ships beneath her bulk and summons prismatic fiends to assault the crews, their glittering one dimensional wings slicing apart the seamen. Her trident’s thunderbolts sinking the ships in a blaze on the south side of the island.

 

   Gala a monstrous red crab with a bare breasted four-armed giantess where the face should be makes landfall on the west side with an army of frog-fish and lobster shelled men and woman beasts from the deep and her brine swamp island, fire that burns water flies from her claws, acid bubbles from her lower hands, and lightning spheres from her upper hands. Her laugh brings madness to the church defenders, they become helpless or else turn on their own screaming that the truth has been revealed to their bleeding ears and eyes.

 

   Amarela a monster resembling how Rhulan had appeared upon awakening attacks the eastern side of the island, only made of red tentacles, numerous in number beneath the red skinned woman with a tentacle for a tongue. The titan of tentacle filled horrors stays off shore, reaching beneath the surface with her ever infinity branching tentacles attacking, violently raping the men while killing others beside them as her howling mad laugh drives some to strip bare their armor and weapons to join her at sea, met by her army of tentacle backed mermaids that take the men as their brides beneath the waves.

 

  Ehmorphin attacks the northern shore, the most guarded of the shores with high stone walls where the church sits upon the hill where the covenant was made. They are the least fortunate of those facing the five witches as Ehmorphin is a mass of blue slime, coming ashore as a tsunami of destruction engulfing the soldiers. Restful Death is not what awaits them, those who fall in the body of Ehmorphin rise as her army of the undead, meat eaten away by her digestive juices they are bones and tattered armor filled with slime that turns from blue to green as it holds the bones in place becoming entities unto themselves; the bone riders. They march up the hill, those who fall bitten, their flesh melts under green slime devouring their flesh, to rise as new soldiers of Ehmorphin.

 

   A fifth witch, Fantella soars through the waves around the island, a mermaid with the body of a dolphin, the skin of a dolphin over the humanoid aspect as well. With her an army of ethereal oceanic nightmares seek out the approaching ships come to reinforce those near the island, soaring through them like torpedoes if living yet ghostly terrors. She conjures up whirlpools to swallow ships hole, the land born humans that survive defenseless to the things of the deep.

 

   When all seemed lost, that the temple should fall to the heathen beasts the sky opens with a heavenly light, a legion of feathered glorious beings descends from the clouds, holding pikes, swords, tridents, scythes, and more weapons than the people below have names for. Surely now the witches shall fall, the island saved, as the light burns the fiends, turns back the nightmares to the sea, releases the minds of those who remain alive and above the waves.

 

  *A crack of red lightning* and the sky above reveals a massive red sigil. The light is gone, half the heavenly host that had arrived falls into the sea, dead, those who were high enough to be caught in the wake of her arrival. Not all sea her, she is but a single woman standing in the sky, Rhulan has joined the fray. Not all hear her cry of , “Eldritch Crystal Barrage!”, but its outcome is obvious for the blood of angels rains from the sky. Black shards that defy dimensions shred through space, the air is violated by their presence, light its self bleed in their passing, the angels that sliced to pieces, the shards seek them out, soaring through the air guided by a hate filled will. What would have been hope becomes despair.

 

    The Witches themselves and their minions cease their assault, as the soldiers that remain watch the sky in agonized faith. Not all the angels fall in this initial assault, three or four massive forms, white feathered multi- bird headed dragons of marble flesh survive the Eldritch Crystals. A black streak with a  red aura can be seen from the ground below, Rhulan encased in a violent fiery red aura, her arms covered and transformed by shadow claws as smooth as dark ink, glowing with ebony light shreds through their flesh. Explosions shake the sky as the ancient sorceress unleashes terrible spells that break off bloody chunks of her opponents, their golden beams of light accomplishing nothing as the air around them ripples, absorbing the lights preventing them from reach earth. Rhulan laughs as she soars free of the bubble, she had distracted and maimed the four flying behemoths, preventing them from knowing to escape as the bubble becomes cohesive, a blue sphere and contracts with such force as to crush the four angelic nightmares into a single bloody mass.

 

  She moves the great sphere over the island and releases it. A mighty torrent of blood rains down upon the stone temple, nearly drowning its occupants, tables, tapestries, flooded and brushed about by the all too mortal blood of the supposed divine.

 

   In stunned silence the survivors hear the projected thunderous voice of Rhulan, “Baptized in the blood of angels, I claim this land for the Mystic Empire!”

 

  The clouds form her face, lighting her eyes and inside of her mouth, “To those who survive, surrender and you shall live, citizens of the Empire with all the rights and privileges, in the instant you surrender you shall be encased in a sphere of protection, protected from the violent retribution of those around you. Those who do not surrender, will die instantly in the next three minutes.

 

   On that day the high priest of the temple saw several horrible sights, the greatest of which is own elite paladins surrendering and becoming encased in blue spheres, these specks of light popped up all over the island, not just from soldiers, but the inhabitants of the island, many of whom fathers, brothers, and sons were conscripted by the church to fight laid down their arms. True to her word the spheres were protected from their overly zealot fellow soldiers who had fought beside them and seen the same nightmares unfold. The face in the cloud opens its mouth and a blue flash comes over the island, it does not burn. The women and children innocent even if not surrendering were spared, those encased were spared, even the high priest in the blood soaked tower of the temple praying to Garudan for protection was spared, all others were not, in this single flash they became wood, turned to trees and shrubs of human form, forests of stricken terror.

 

   The high priest would have belittled his unfaithful men if not for in that instant Rhulan herself standing before him, stepping not in but on the blood soaked floor; the walls, floor, and even parts of the ceiling stained by the blood of the flying behemoths. With a single gesture she forces the man to his knees, paralyzed in position. Her hand glowing blue she places on his head, he sees the entire battle, from every front, from the eyes of every man who fought and died, their final thoughts, their final fears, their hopes and dreams killed all in the name of protecting mere stone and mortar in the name of Garudan.

 

 

   It is written that the priest’s final words before pledging is allegence to Rhulan and begging forgiveness from the goddess was, “What sort of man could hope to fight against the sea and sky turned against him. What sort of man would then deny that these are the true masters of our world.”

 

    ******

 

   The laughter of a seven year old girl, her jet black hair tied up in buns by her nursemaids as she runs about her playroom. She is happy, giddy as only a child could be, as she has heard the good news, her father is home from the war.

 

  “Daddy!” yells out the girl running to the arms of the person walking into the playroom, she is held tight in her father’s hairless toned arms, against her father’s black shadow cloth clad ample bosom.

 

  “My little girl,” says Rhulan happily, “you been good?”

 

  “Yeppers!” says Rhudra all smiles, “hey mommy!”

 

  Migdra, wearing a white and black royal gown is standing behind Rhulan, smiling silently as the daughter she gave birth to prances about happily upon Rhulan setting her down after their big hug.

 

  “Daddy has a present for you,” says Rhulan presenting a strange object foreign to this world, “a teddy bear,”

 

  Rhudra gives it a big hug, “I love it!”

 

  “and,” says Rhulan surprising her, “as you are getting older I have this for you as well,”

 

  Migdra is shocked as Rhulan produces from her cape a book, a book of magic.

 

  “You are my daughter,” says Rhulan handing her the book, “there is great magic within you, waiting to come out, and I am going to teach you.”

 

  Rhudra holds the book and the teddy bear wide eyed, “does this mean…”

 

  Rhulan smiles, “yeppers baby, daddy is going to stay home for a good long while now.”

 

 

  She pats Rhudra on the head, “now go play little one, daddy needs to go take a bath and discuss some things with mommy.”

 

  Rhudra smiles and runs along with the nurse maid.

 

  Migdra stands there in the hall and whispers, “magic..*mmph!*”

 

 Rhulan grabs her up and plants a big long wet kiss in her mouth. When Rhulan releases her she would say something but that look, even as Rhulan holds Migdra against her bosom, she has that look Migdra has seen so many times, that mysterious sadness of a look of far away in thought as she looks at Rhudra’s door. A look she has hidden from Rhudra as best she could, yet appears upon her brow so often, when asked by Migdra all Rhulan will say is it’s a lamentation of long ago, I do not intend to make the same mistakes again.

 

  Even without prompting here she says it, “I do not intend to make the same mistakes again.”

 

 As she holds Migdra, arm around her waist more like a comfort pillow than a wife, some Migdra has come to expect in moments like this, “Seven years, yet again, in seven years I have been this distant figure in our daughter’s life, fighting idiotic men, and redicilous monsters to convert witches and kingdoms…it is strong enough, no…it is not…no…”

 

   She looks at Rhudra’s door and gets a serious expression as she lets go of Migdra, “I want guards with contact spells AND devices here at all times. The true enemy has made its move, I do not trust them to not move against our child to get at us. She will be strong, a power so great that the very notion of moving against her directly would be no more entertained than moving against me directly.”

 

  Rhulan *sighs* and shakes her head, “I need to relax.”

 

 Migdra smiles she knows where this part of her Empress’s return home routine goes, come back, be dramatic, be forlorn, and then sexy bath time. However just as they turn to head to the bathing hall they hear a nurse maid scream. Faster than a flash Rhulan and Migdra are in the room, the book, a beginner’s guide to magic is open and Rhudra is floating in the room, spinning a little bit.

 

 Rhulan laughs at the sight, Migdra can’t help herself either, for it was not too long ago when she abandoned the traditional witchcraft of her world and began to learn elementalism that she was in the same spot, although their daughter has already gotten this far right after just reading a few sentences on the concept of levitation.

 

  “M…mommmy….d….daaadddyyyy,” says Rhudra spinning, “I…I’m….diiizzzzy,”

 

 Rhulan breaks out laughing completely, “Okay,” she says calming down, she gives the nurse maid a deadly knife look for her alarming scream, nurse knows not what will come of this but she has a few ideas, like being made to service one of the five witches at the worst or just cleaning up the toilets at the lightest depending on the queen’s mood. In the same instant she is all smiles with her daughter, “guess I can relax later, my little girl comes first.”

 

   Rhulan leans down and holds her arms steadying her, “okay first…”

 

  ******

 

  -A few months later-

 

    “I have had enough of this!” yells the Merigland general slamming his fist on the wooden table, next to him the general of Fafnir Island, and the ex-king of Fanatis Island.

 

  “Where are the reports from the battlefield?!” demands the general to the group of high priests with them.

 

  “General,” starts one high priest.

 

  “Right here!” yells the general throwing some scrolls on the table.

 

  “How did you get those?” demands the highest of the high priests there.

 

 “How did I get these?” says the general pissed, “How did I…the general of Merigland’s military forces, and chief in charge of the allied nations’ strategic battle planning commission get the reports from the battle fields?”

 

  “They are blasphemy,” starts the priest.

 

  “Oh that’s right,” says the general, “We had to STEAL our reports, because you fucking idiots! My apologies, you blind dafffed fools, sticking your heads in the sand and mud are sticking to that ludicrous law of yours that apparently prohibits us…the very military in charge of keeping you alive, from knowing what is happening on the battlefield just because you don’t like it…because it contradicts what you believe.”

 

  “You don’t believe?” asks the priest.

 

  “What I believe,” says the general, “is that I…no…we thought we were sending men to back up the local navies to defend Isadel and Fanatis from Hayzore pirates trying to take them over…had we known we were sending men to fight…oh say…giant sea monster witches…we might have sent some different armaments with them, not to mention…”

 

  “You will not say it!” commands the high priest standing.

 

  “Say what?” growls the general standing and staring him the eye, “say what? Tell me priest…say what?”

 

  The general clutches a scroll, a scout report back from Isadel after no one reported back on the battle, “say what?” growls the general, “say something that will deface the church, or say something that will actually tell us what we are up against?”

 

   “Tell us,” growls the general, “that Garigland had an army of tree people, flying squid people, and magic, or that Fanatis was attacked by oceanic monsters with angel killing weapons…or best yet, that Isadel fell when this Empress the enemy would speak of showed up and slaughtered angels…”

 

  The high priest is red in the face and about to speak when,

 

  “Allies,” comes a voice from a blinding light.

 

  “Oh holiness,” says the high priest seeing the eagle headed white feathered man creature.

 

  “Our forgiveness,” says the high priest, “these men…”

 

  “Are correct,” says the angel, “We are the guardians of the balance, keepers of peace,” says the angel, “and it is true, in our arrogance, as before now we have only faced the damned from below, we sent a host of our warriors to turn back the evil from Isadel. What happened there has shaken heaven, shaken us from our idle position above you.”

 

   The ex-king of Fanatis is dumbfounded, even though not a week prior he had seen these angels killed by black weapons held by monsters.

 

  “This is a desperate situation,” says the angel, “Garudan feels your fears, do not lose faith in Garudan children, for even the evil from another world is no match for the true power of heaven.”

 

  The angel vanishes in the light.

 

  The high priest smugly sits, “See, this is why we hid those blasphemous accounts, in the end we the righteous will prevail for Garudan is on OUR side. This new…devil…will fall. We are living my friends in a new age, to be written in gospels to come, just as the book speaks of Eckraick falling so too will our descendents read of this Rhulan falling before the grace of Garudan.”

 

  The general grabs up the scrolls, even as the priests stare daggers in his back for taking them, the general thinks, “I know propaganda and placations when I hear them, fools, we need something else, something new or else we will all be under the witch’s boot.”