Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (3 page)

BOOK: Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga)
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Time: Indeterminate

Ascended Realms

 

She-Who-Is

Pitiless black eyes stared across the chess board from
HIS
sharp, obsidian features.

“It’s your move,
uxor mea
…”

She-who-is fiddled with her small white king, a petty lesser-god she'd assigned the tedious task of micromanaging a galaxy. At play was a fat little solar system she'd been tinkering with, one which had aroused
HIS
interest after the deity had abused
HIS
power to carry out her will. If one was a
wise
old god, they avoided drawing
HIS
attention
.

Giving her most coquettish smile, She-who-is flicked her gossamer wings in a flirtatious hum, praying he'd be more interested in winning
HER
favor than in winning the game. He-who's-not did not buy into her stalling tactics…

"Make your move
,
"
HE
repeated.

The Dark Lord had no shape, but over the millennia, he
had learned to fashion a shell which, truth-be-told, was rather attractive in a tall, dark, and terrifying
'I'm about to dissipate you into primordial chaos'
kind of way. Brutally handsome, with high cheekbones, six horns, leathery bat-like wings and a long, scorpion's tail which dripped destruction instead of venom, every aspect of
HIS
being was shaped to protect
HER
from her accursed father; Moloch, the Devourer of Children…

Some called the Dark Lord her husband, others the devil, but the truth was the
Guardian of the Universe
was little more than her babysitter. At least that's how
SHE
thought of him most of the time.
HE
was an obstacle to be charmed into giving her what she wanted. She chewed her lip as she thought of ways to salvage her solar system.

The timekeeping device
HE
used to keep her stalling tactics at bay ran out of sand. His ebony features were devoid of emotion as he spoke the ominous words which meant the death-knell of any creation they played opposite each other to win.

“You are out of time.”

The Infernal Palace shuddered from the power in his voice, the
Song of Destruction
come to devour her
playthings. With a touch of
HIS
fingertip, the entire solar system went supernova and dissolved back into his
essence, primordial darkness, the power of the void.


Malum est!!!
" She-who-is slammed down the little white king who'd just been left without a seat of power. "I wasn’t ready!" She crossed her arms and turned away.

“You were out of time,
uxor mea,
” He-who's-not said. Beneath his voice swirled an undertone of pleading.
"Those are the rules you agreed to be bound by when we began this game."

"Then go find somebody
else
to play with!" She-who-is snapped. With a disgusted wave of her hand, she punished him by withdrawing her light. As she did, the walls of the palace he'd worked so hard to build for her began to buckle and lose shape, for without
HER,
the Dark Lord wasn't good at holding
any
shape … not even his own!

A chess piece from one of the adjacent galaxies fell over. It was a small, white queen, adorned with a golden crown, denoting it was one of
HER
favorite chess pieces.

"Hey!" She-who-is exclaimed. "That galaxy wasn't even at play! That's my Chosen One!"

"I did not move against it," the Dark Lord said. He pointed at the small, White Queen, careful not to touch it.
"
You must have knocked it over,
uxor mea,
when you arose in haste. Just put it back where it belongs and I will not penalize your error."

One of the shadows leaped out of the walls and chittered at the Dark Lord's ankles. He
picked up the tiny shadow and cradled it in his lap.

"Ugh!" She-who-is recoiled in disgust. "Shadow-cats!"

How she hated the
things
the Dark Lord shaped with his
own hand! The small, dark creature was not afraid of
HIM,
for
it
was comprised of the same primordial chaos as
HE
was, but it jumped up and down like a worried little dog. The shadow cat was too primitive to speak, but
something
had the formless shadow agitated.

"What is the matter, little one?" the Dark Lord's asked.  His sharp features creased with concern.

As the shadow-cat chittered,
HIS
chess piece, the dark knight he had tasked with watching over her favorite white queen, fell over as well, and then her
Chosen One
disappeared
.
Their eyes met across the chess board. Neither
deity had made that move.

The shadow-cat squeaked a single sound that, even with its primitive ability to vocalize, was understood by both of them.

"Moloch…"

A feeling of vertigo swirled around
HER
as cold, dread terror seeped into her incorporeal form.  The Dark Lord reached across the chess board and carefully took her hand.

"You know what I have to do?"
HE
said.

"But I
like
that queen!" She-who-is burst into tears. "She has always been my favorite daughter!"

He-who's-not
squeezed her hand.
HE
might be a god of primordial chaos; death, destruction, darkness and desolation, but if he
had one redeeming quality, it was that he loved
HER
more than his
own existence.
HE
could bear her fury.
HE
could withstand the full force of her light.
HE
could even endure her frequent temper tantrums and lengthy pouting, but when her tears were genuine, he could not bear to see
HER
cry.
HIS
obsidian eyes scanned the chess board, searching for an option.

"Perhaps Ki already has a chess piece in position to play against the Evil One?" the Dark Lord said gently. "One we cannot see because it is part of their higher game?"

She-who-is's lip trembled. Oh! How she hated it when her mother's game against her accursed father interfered with running her universe. Moloch attacked
HER
favorite chess pieces because he liked to remind her that someday he would devour
HER
the same way he had devoured her brothers and sisters. She chided herself for her earlier selfishness. Oh! How easily she had forgotten
why
her mother had paired her with a creature of the void; to co-rule the universe they had shaped together from
HIS
primordial darkness and
HER
primordial light. Together … they were stronger.

"Ask my mother to send in her Agent," She-who-is grasped her husband's hand. "A Watchman. An Agent of Ki. If they fail, then you will have no choice but to step in and destroy their entire galaxy to prevent Moloch's spread. But first, please give my Chosen One a chance?"

The Dark Lord kissed
HER
hand. With a shudder of power, he unfurled his enormous, leathery black wings and cast himself to the highest edge of the universe to plead with Ki to send in her Agents. As
HE
did, he inadvertently destroyed his chair, his throne, and half the wall of the Infernal Palace. There was a
reason
the Dark Lord was forced to work through a mortal vessel to enact
HIS
will … his power was too vast to touch the lives of mortals.

She-who-is glanced down at the shadow-cat which purred at her ankles seeking gratitude, no doubt, for its too-belated warning. With a disdainful flicker of her gossamer wings, she
shoved the disgusting creature away with her foot.

"Shoo!"

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

 

Chapter 1

 

November 3,390 BC

Earth:  Mesopotamian Plain

 

Pareesa

Pareesa's heart pumped as she ran at a speed she would have never thought possible. A conversation she'd once had with Mikhail during training after landing a successful blow replayed within her mind:

“If you get distracted like that during battle," she had said after Mikhail had glanced over at his wife instead of watching her, "it could turn out very badly for you.”

Mikhail had effortlessly disarmed her and handed her back her staff without even ruffling a feather.

“If I didn't trust you,” the big Angelic had said, “you would never get close enough in the first place to -see- me get distracted.”

Her arrow was strung before she broke over the rise. She knew. She knew their plan. She shot as soon as she saw the glimmer of metal in the light of the campfire, but she was too late. The woman who was not his wife plunged the blade into Mikhail’s heart.

"No!"

The first arrow cut down the imposter, dead even though she still stood, quickly followed by a second. Grabbing two arrows out of her quiver at once, she drew the bow again and cut down two hideous lizard demons who rushed at him with firesticks.

Mikhail's wings drooped towards the ground. The red-caped imposter slid out of his arms, dead.

Pareesa gave an anguished cry.

Mikhail staggered. Even from here she could see his look of disbelief as he tried to protect the woman who had just betrayed him. Around him, the lizard demons lunged, eager to finish him off.

Pareesa screamed her mentor's name. Stringing her bow again, she took aim and shot down a third lizard demon.

Mikhail's wings trembled like a dying bird, proud appendages brought low by this act of betrayal. She watched in horror as he wordlessly slid to the ground.

Oh gods! Oh gods! The other warriors were a good six minutes behind her. She had to keep the enemy off of him until the others could get here! But how? Six minutes in battle was an eternity and she was outnumbered seventy to one!

“Bishamonten,” Pareesa prayed to the Cherubim god. “
Watashi wa shi no gakki o hozon suru tame ni tsuyo-sa o ataeru
[please give me the strength to save your instrument of death].”

She threw herself through the enemy warriors as if they did not exist, shooting arrow after arrow until her quiver was empty. She was so close it didn't occur to them to shoot back. They had not been taught to use empty hands and feet as weapons as she had; the last thing the enemy expected was a thirteen summer girl to hurl herself to her fallen comrade's side with single-minded fury.

Diving into a defensive maneuver Mikhail had taught her to escape spear-thrusts, she rolled towards his body and rose. Somehow his sword found its way into her hands, the sword he’d refused to teach her out of fear it would someday be used against her. It was heavy. She didn't even know how to wield it.

“Bishamonten!” Pareesa cried out to the Cherubim god. “Help me! Please! Use my body and do whatever you must to save him!””

Something tickled the crown of her head. She gasped as a sensation akin to the air during a thunderstorm slipped gently into her body and vibrated outwards from her heart into her extremities. It was not painful as she'd always assumed possession must feel, but a pleasant sense of tingling as the Cherubim god took control. That part of her which was still human watched from the left-hand side of her brain as her body worked of its own volition to defend her teacher without conscious thought.

She felt like … power. Was this what it was like for Mikhail when he entered into the killing dance?

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