Impure: Godslayers

There was a fire lit in the King’s huge house, so that it was quite smoky inside, but for some reason it was still cold. King Aldur paced around his throne, whilst his Jarls and two boys were sat silently around the fire. Afterwards Lee and Kilowulf strode in through the doorway.

“I have thawed all the victims. Three hundred and twenty-eight of them survived,” Lee said.

“And?” Aldur asked.

“And we lost ninety-three?” Kilowulf said.

“I do not understand this, I killed Ragnaghast,” Lee barked.

“It was not Ragnaghast…was it King Aldur?” Osy said.

“It was the one who caused him, his mother Precipia,” Aldur said regretfully.

“His mother is not mortal? How? Why were we not told?” Lee enquired in utter confusion.

“Because he was only the offspring of a demi-god and the dear old King… is a liar!”

All the Jarls were angered by Osy’s words and stood up with menacing expressions on their faces. Lee and George snorted at Kilowulf, who clenched his fist and took a step forward.

“Calm yourselves,”

Aldur’s words quelled the fighting spirits of his Jarls and with the discipline of trained dogs, they instantly sat down with no signs of aggression. Kilowulf on the other hand was really angry and he cursed and stormed out of the house.

“I am no liar. I answered all the questions that I was asked,” Aldur stated.

George folded his arms and sighed.

“My people are originally from the mainland to the west. You think it is cold here, you know nothing. You are yet to taste the bitterest chills, hailstorms that last for days, winds so cold that they freeze the very saliva in your mouth,” Aldur said as he placed his hands above the fire.

“Yes we get it, it is cold,” Lee interjected rudely.

“No…You do not get it. After happening on this island, my grandfather fled with his clan here, we settled and we thrived, for a time. However, unsatisfied with tormenting mortals on the mainland; Precipia bore a son and brought him here. She elevated him to god-hood and many of us died building that infernal temple. Now he is dead and she is merciless as ever! We have lost so many. We cannot survive another night; you must go up there and face her,”

“Up where,” Lee said enthusiastically.

“There is a blizzard on the mountain, the same one which tore through the town. We suspect she mourns in her son’s temple,”

Everyone turned to Kilowulf who had just stepped back in the house.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Lee said as he stood up.

“Calm down. We must devise a plan first, she is a goddess,” George said as he tediously flicked some strands of his hair out of his face.

“So, these mortals were fool enough to worship her son as a god… we slayed him. Now this old wench shall follow,” Lee growled as he punched his palm.

“You just do not get it do you? She is a demi-god...like us. If we were older, anyone of us could have defeated Ragnaghast bu-,”

“Yes? Then why did it seem like I was the only one up to the task?” Lee interposed.

He smiled nonchalantly as Osy scowled at him for a moment.

“Well. I am going to finish this, are you coming George?” Lee scoffed as he began to walk towards the door.

“I am afraid I cannot allow that,” Aldur said.

Subsequently, two soldiers walked into the house and obstructed the doorway. Lee snorted rudely at them and turned back to the King.

“Have you mortals lost your minds?”

“What is the meaning of this,” George chimed in.

“One of my men here saw something very interesting last night. Just before the attack they saw Lee kissing Helga,” Aldur said.

“So?” Lee asked as he folded his arms and smiled boastfully.

“Her husband died during Ragnaghast’s rampage. By the law of our land, she is now the possession of her late husband’s next of kin, which in this case is Jarl Runheim. It is his right is to marry or marry her off and there are penalties for interference with such rights; in this case, a year in prison,”

“So the fact that I slayed your evil god Ragnaghast counts for nought?” Lee laughed loudly.

“And where would our gratitude end? First you take our women, and then you begin to dictate when we can and cannot use fire…. Never again,”

“This mortal most have lost his mind. Your laws do not apply to me; you were worshipping me as one of your so called four god-slayers last night?”

“There are three of you,”

“But-”

However Lee was interrupted by Osy.

“Shut up Lee,”

Osy stood up and turned to King Aldur.

“You never believed we were these so called god-slayers. You had us questioning everything we were told since birth. You used us,”

“Please boy, I did what I had to do for my people. First there are three of you, and not four, as the prophecy foretold. Of course I would be sceptical you are children, and how do I know your real names are Osy, Lee and George. You could be imposters sent by Precipia to test our faith,”

“You swine!” George yelled as he stood up.

He raised his fist and walked towards the King. However, Osy held George back as the Jarls all raised their weapons in readiness to defend their King.

“Prove us wrong one last time and me and my people shall worship you till the end of time, we shall sacrifice cattle and-”

“King Aldur, get these swords out of my face,” Lee snapped.

“One year in prison,”

“No mortal jail can hold me,” Lee growled arrogantly.

“If we defeat Precipia he is to be freed” Osy bartered loudly.

“What-” Lee retorted.

“If you survive Precipia, it is we who would be at your mercy,” Aldur said reassuringly.

Lee gaped at George and Osy, who both stared back at him with steely eyes.

Once again Diantha’s bellows echoed around the temple grounds. However this time they were not bellows of rage but screams of pain. Diantha fell to the cold floor of Drazo’s Temple of Night and Blood. She tearfully clutched at her sore cheeks. Diantha screamed even more as Drazo picked her up by a tuft of her hair and threw her several feet from where he stood.

“Do you know what you have done? Your ineptitude is staggering,”

“It is no fault of mine. If the Ellenian King had shut his docks like I asked she would not have escaped,” Diantha spat miserably when her body stopped rolling.

“If you had not let her escape in the fir-”

“It was daytime, what was I supposed to do?” Diantha screamed tearfully.

Suddenly Drazo sprinted towards Diantha, who screamed and raised her hands up defensively. Instead of ripping her throat out as she had feared, Drazo embraced Diantha dotingly.

“Shush now my child, forgive me,” Drazo said.

Diantha may have looked relieved, but she was overwhelmed with a feeling of terrifying caution. Meanwhile Drazo bit into his wrist with his long jagged teeth and brought the gushing gash to Diantha’s face.

“Feed child, you need it to heal,” Drazo implored as he stroked Diantha’s head.

Similar to a thirsty deer at a conveniently quiet watering hole, Diantha hesitantly leaned in closer; that was until she caught the scent. The intoxicating aroma of Drazo’s godly blood was more than she could withstand as her pupils rolled back in pleasure and she plunged her fangs into Drazo bleeding wrist.

“Where is the priest that I left to watch over Diantha?” Drazo asked.

“Right here,” Macius said as he snatched a man from the huddle of cowering priests.

The priest groaned pathetically as Macius threw him in front of Drazo.

“What is your name?” Drazo spat.

“Long, oh great one,” the priest whimpered.

“What was that?”

“Lo..Long,”

“Long? These mortals and their strange names,” Drazo laughed.

Macius guffawed in laughter at his progenitor’s joke.

“Short man, short arms, short neck….Why there is nothing – long about you,” Drazo chortled.

Macius laughed even louder. Compelled by fear, the priests also began to laugh with over exaggerated volume and hesitant tones. Even Diantha smiled as she fed. In an instant the mood in the temple had changed and even Long beamed reluctantly.

“What are you laughing at?” Drazo bayed.

Long wiped the smile off his face and stammered inaudibly.

“Kill him,” Drazo commanded.

“My pleasure,” Macius said emotionlessly.

“No mercy. Forgive m-”

Long was interrupted by the distinct sound of his own neck snapping. He dropped dead to the ground with his tongue hanging out and his head adjacent to his shoulders.

“Macius go to the Ellenian docks and find out where their trade ships set off to in the day,” Drazo commanded.

“What about the … King?” Macius asked.

“Oh leave him to me. He will pay,”