We Shall be as Gods: 3rd Testament - Shadows of Me

We Shall be as Gods

3rd Testament - Shadows if Me

Copyright 2011 K.R.Columbus

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Antiquarian Age Books

By K.R.Columbus

(Release dates and titles can change at any time…)

………….

(G) - Contains Gay Characters

(S) - Contains Strong Sexual Content

(M) - Contains Medium Sexual Content

(L) - Contains Light Sexual Content

(D) - Contains Disturbing Situations

(Ω) - Contains Speculative Religious Themes

-We Shall be as Gods Series- (L) - (D) - (G) - (Ω)

1st Testament - Vestigial Dream

2nd Testament - The Weaver and the Herder

3rd Testament - Shadows of Me

4th Testament - Children of Exile

5th Testament - Beyond Destiny (2014)

-Hyper Speed Inertia Series- (D) - (G)

-Yamato Trilogy-

Battle-Submarine Yamato

The Fires of Kawaita (Coming Soon)

-NOVELS- (Not part of a Series)

-MAGNA MAQUINA- (G)

-YAKUZA RONDO- (M) - (D) - (G)

-Sodom’s X Duology- (M) - (D) - (Ω) - (G)

-Hall of the Mountain King- (S) - (G)

-The Last Southern Mountain- (G) (Coming Soon)

-Young Adult Fiction-

-The Treasures of Shamarkand Series- (G)

Wanderers to Shamarkand

Daughter of the Gods

Carnival of Shadows

The Mechanical Labyrinth

The Mirror Tower (2014)

-Totemic Haven Series- (G)

Totemic Haven

WildChild

Father Sun, Mother Moon (Coming Soon)

Ps – To avoid confusion, character thoughts, important words, songs and messages are in ITALICS.

3rd Testament – Shadows of Me

By K.R.Columbus

All usurpation expelled,

To her original darkness your sway

Erect the standard there of ancient Night.

Yours be th' advantage all, mine the revenge!

Paradise Lost by John Milton

Chapter 1

-Slave-

Time is a cage of golden shimmering bars, and our bodies, the decaying reality of our souls. All mortals are born to ultimately die, but our souls, our essence is eternal. Why would creation fashion our spirits eternal, when everything else is goaded into destruction? Can we remember what came before? Can we retain those genetic memories that still plague us? How can we tell the difference, when there are no memories to serve as foundation to these urges? How long shall we be slaves to them?

Time changes everything, because time is, and always will be master and commander to our limitations. Time and death are cruel. Oh yes, that they are. That they are.

Loomis DarkBringer lay reclined against a pillar of his palace. His dark armor was stained with old blood and he was breathing heavily. Whimpering, his hands held something that wasn’t there. His feelings were dark, empty, and devoid of any cheery feeling, all that was there to keep him company was his mind, intertwined with things that he knew couldn’t be.

Are you still there Endymion? Loomis DarkBringer asked softly as he imagined Endymion’s body trapped inside The Ilnosis.

It has been so long, almost forty years since Endymion became one with The Ilnosis, and yet, nothing has changed. Endymion is still trapped, and I can't find a way to get him out. I can feel that his essence and soul are somewhere within the Djugurba, but its position eludes me. How many books had he read in Caul, looking for an answer on how to free Endymion? How many worlds had he wandered looking for a way to get him out of from within The Soul of the World? There is no end to this. It's endless…

Loomis heard footsteps approaching.

It's advised that you retire to your chambers, DarkBringer. A dark skinned young man dressed in blood-red armor with dark-red wings stood beside Loomis’ discarded helmet; his form was defiant and gaunt.

There’s no difference… Loomis said as he tilted his head to the side and looked at the young man.

You’re our leader Loomis DarkBringer, the Host of the Seraphim. You saved us and gave us a purpose. Still, the others are fearful of you when they see blood drip from your wings. They know, and feel that you are restless. Loomis, you must rest. Spend some time with the others; guide us with your words. Believe it or not, we’re like you, and we need your cadence. Sirius’ eyes hide many secrets.

Leave me Cimerhon…

Sirius Cimerhon is one of the many lost souls that The DarkBringer saved from a fate darker than death. For the last forty years, Loomis has been searching the vast expanses of The Sea of Vanity, The Getig, and the Djugurba, searching for a way to save Endymion from his fate, but he has been unsuccessful. Sirius became his second in command after they faced many tribulations together, but to this day, his past remains a mystery, because he is the only Hemihence that can't remember his true name or anything from his previous life. Since Loomis met him, he felt a great attraction towards him, almost as if they had shared a common past. When Loomis is away from Ivarrian, Sirius takes care of things in his name.

It pains me greatly to see you like this Loomis. Since I met you, I was drawn to your kindness, but it hurts me to see you broken and in unrest. I knew of your pain, but I had no idea of its magnitude.

As you will, Host of the Seraphim. Sirius turned and left the dark chamber, and with his parting, everything turned dark.

With each passing day, I see how I change, because things aren’t as they were before. Until now, we’ve saved thousands of Hemihence and lost souls that were destined to be in our numbers, and yet, in them I can’t find what I am looking for. But what can I do? All I can see is this endless wasteland, a line of events that must be followed to an end, which are as unsure as the air that I breathe. Despair becomes me, and I am ashamed of it.

Loomis moved his gloved hand in the darkness and touched his helmet with a single finger; it was cold and still stained with blood. Lucifer hasn’t returned since he left his exile, so it became my job to lead until he comes back, until there’s a way to fight off the incoming darkness. Loomis has so many unanswered questions. Endymion’s absence is a burden that’s killing him slowly, every time he descends into another world to look among the fallen, all that he can see is him. There are so many lost souls, so many that their cries linger as if in a terrible stupor.

I can hear them! Loomis clutched his head as he cried bitterly. There’s no way to stop them! He grunted as he saw and felt the dead and the dying.

Loomis’s pain was a lingering abyss in his heart, an endless abyss of despair from where darkness waits to swallow him whole. He was aware of the sleeping being inside his soul; he had seen it face to face dozens of times now, and each time he feels how parts of who he is get lost, becoming part of that sleeping beast; The DarkBringer.

As much as he looked for an answer to Endymion’s predicament, he looked for an answer to his own darkness as well, and the things that get a hold of him during the endless of the night.

The only hope for me is you.

Ivarrian, The Mirage Palace, it was built on a tall hill surrounded by ascending terraces crowned with jarring white towers. Thirteen towers surround Ivarrian, and a main stairway links the terraces and chambers to Valesty, the Garden of Ruin. Valesty is the crimson skied world that surrounds the palace in every direction, as if caught in a loop, a world of endless ruins and forgotten things. It's said that Valesty belonged to another world, a place that was destroyed long ago before the current universe was created. Ivarrian, the main palace, was constructed eons ago by Noah Napishtim, a lost dream which Lucifer took as his headquarters after being cast down from heaven. He was the very first Host of the Seraphim. Lucifer spent years alone, accompanied by crumbling pillars and shades of fading light, trying to find an answer to a very ancient riddle. Why was I created?

Being able to travel at will between The Getig and The Sea of Vanity, Loomis found out in no time, that if he didn’t help those pleading voices in his head, they would eventually drive him mad. At times, he could swear that Endy was calling for him… Find me! Every time Loomis would wake to face the dark alone.

Stop it! Enough! He yelled as he began to cry to the voices inside his head.

When was the last time I ate something? He wasn’t sure.

His armor of void keeps him alive somehow. With a trembling hand, he took his left glove-off, to reveal his pale delicate hand, which he knew was his only because he was moving it. He took a small vial full of a crimson liquid, a strong sleeping potion made by one of his friends. Trembling as if it was winter, he took the glass vial to his lips and drank its contents while tears fell from his eyes. When the vial was empty, he threw it against a pillar, where it shattered into a rain of shards, which like falling stars fell to the cold stone floor. Loomis collapsed on top of them. He didn’t care. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget, closing his weary eyes he knew that only the wind was witness to his ordeal.

………….

The Bloodoss Peaks, in Planet Elazul…

Elazul’s binary sun rises rebellious beyond the cold misty mountains of the Bloodoss Peaks, which are speckled with a soft eiderdown of snow that fell during the night, making the cold stony mountains look even wilder than they already were. Wilderness and savage nature reign in the heart of the wild. Just under the Bloodoss Peaks, an immense forest spreads out into the horizon, Bloodmoss Forest; it reaches so far, that in the distance the trees turn into a dark green haze.

Drums echoed in the distance, piercing the morning air with their tumultuous sound.

That day was a special day to all young Bhearous that have been waiting to come of age, and earn their place in their tribal society.

The Bhearous are a humanoid race that has many aesthetical similarities with boars and bears, yet their form is completely humanoid in every sense of the word. The only body part that a Bhearou has that a human doesn’t is the tail, yet their appearances and cultures are very different. The entire body of a Bhearou is covered with a thick layer of fur, their ears resemble the ones of a bear, and some of the specimens have them slightly pointy like a boar. Bhearous in general are very strong and bulky, and every one of them has protruding tusks that are four times the size of a human fang.

Since ancient times, the Bhearous have lived in the wild forests and mountains of The Bloodoss Peaks. They’re feared throughout Elazul because of their extremely violent disposition. The small villages near the forest suffer annual raids by Bhearou Blood-Packs. To humans, Bhearous are creatures of nightmare and blight.

In one of the many mountains, there is a grotto near a tall outcropping, from where one can see the forest below. Gerkyan Slaveborn was sitting alone at the edge of the outcropping, observing the forest with his hairy legs hanging over the chasm. Gerkyan knew very well what those drums meant; he knew that the other Bhearou Blood-Packs were drawing closer to the trial grounds. Every ten years, a bloody trial of power is held by the numerous Bhearous Blood-Packs to choose their new leaders, to allow the younglings to challenge the elders in a brutal fight for supremacy in the name of Rothekay the Vermillion Vulture, their God of pestilence and death.

My body feels numb with coldness and wet with the morning dew that fell on me during the night. Other parts of my body feel numb, but I’m used to it by now. As the drums approach, I know the carnage that will be ensued, and it makes me shudder. I have seen it before, and it’s not something I would like to be part of even if I was allowed to do so. I’m a half-breed; I’m the fruit of the union between a Bhearou raider and a human female. I mostly look human, except that my body is very hairy and I have tusks. I’ve never harmed anyone, even if the black blood of the Bhearous runs through my veins. I was born with many flaws and attributes of both sides, but mostly, they make me weak.

Even the scavenger doves seem to be aware of what is coming, because I can see them leave their nests, away from the canopies of the trees, and into the bright sky. To see the scavenger doves’ flight is a gift that I appreciate, even if secretly I envy their freedom.

Hearing steps coming from the grotto behind him, Gerkyan turned his head slightly to see as his only friend walked closer. Gourk Ironbond, Gerkyan’s only friend in the Blood-Pack. Gerkyan noticed that Gourk had a good portion of dried Skulker meat hanging from his jaws, and a Theramite dagger in his furry paws. In no time, he sliced it into two even pieces with the rusty dagger, and then sheathed the dagger in one of his leather boots. Gourk was dressed in light leather armor, and a type of soiled loincloth.

You’re still here. I saw you last night when I went to break water. You slept here didn’t you? Gourk’s voice was melancholic as he addressed his friend.

Gourk knew that something was troubling Gerkyan, because he wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, instead, he looked away to the horizon and closed his eyes as he allowed the cold wind to cares his feverish body. Then hugged him self as he smelled the cold.

Gerkyan are you alright?

Gourk have always protected me from the other Bhearous, he’s always treating me as if I was his younger brother. The fact that I’m the weakest in the Blood-Pack doesn’t help me, but Gourk helps me when he cans, and I’m very grateful for that. He always ends up finishing the fights that I never start. Most of the time, I stay on the ground looking as he beats the living hell out of my abusers. He’s the most handsome of all Bhearous, and the strongest, in more than one way.

While Gerkyan watches the doves fly in upward spiral to avoid a servant crow, Gourk ate his piece of dried meat. The meat had been seasoned with different spices found in the forest, and was rich with flavor. Gourk chewed its last remains with delight. Closing his eyes for second, Gerkyan faced the dual sun feeling its warmth, but yet, the suns couldn’t keep away the memories plaguing his thoughts.

You look pale Gerkyan. I’ve never seen you like this. Here, take this. I know it’ll make you feel better. Gourk offered the other slice of dried Skulker.

As my friend, Gourk is always showing me his scars with pride, and even if I’m happy for him, I know that all the scars that I have earned are scars of shame, scars that taint my body and spirit. They’re scars of shame branded on me by my master, because I didn’t serve him the way he wanted.

Come on, take it. I know you like it, its smoked Skulker fern rabbit. Gourk opened his mouth, and showed Gerkyan the chewed meat he was eating as a sign that it was good.

Life as a slave isn’t easy, and Gerkyan had been born into such a life. Gerkyan’s master, Denmch Blightorn, is the shaman of the Blood-Pack. He has control over the high elders in such a way, that when he was rumored to be worshiping Phenos the Armored Worm with violent blood-orgies no one dared to confront him, maybe because the elders themselves are part of these festivities. As far as anyone knows, he still does.

I’m grateful that Gourk is by my side, he always finds the time to be with me even when he can’t. I’ve learned many things from him, including how to catch fish in the river, how to identify the good herbs in the forest floor, or where to find the best Skulker fern rabbits that I like so much.

I’m wearing some animal hides, but I’m still cold, I don’t have as much fur as the rest of the pack members, and the Bloodoss Peaks are very cold even in the summer months. On his part, Gourk is dressed in leather armor, one of the many items taken from raids to the human villages at the edge of the Bloodmoss Forest. I’ve never been allowed to go on a raid because of my mixed nature, because I’d probably go berserk by seeing the atrocities.

Gourk is the youngest in his family and the only one left of his fourteen brothers and sisters. I look at Gourk and I know that he isn’t like the others; he can actually understand the way I feel.

Gourk has been looking forward to the day of the trial for some time now. I’ve seen him training very hard to be the victor, to gain some power as a leader of the pack to try and change the way I'm treated.

A gust of wind blew when Gerkyan opened his eyes, and tilted his head to look up at his friend. Gourk was still offering him the meat. Managing a faint smile, Gerkyan tried to reach for the meat, but he couldn’t. If anyone were to look at him from the distance, that person would have seen blood dripping to the forest from the outcropping of rock. Gerkyan was terribly wounded.

Last night, Denmch got mad at me; he came to me in rage and beat me with a tornwood club. I couldn’t do a thing….

Gerkyan!

Gourk saw as Gerkyan fell sideways, almost falling down to the forest below. At once, Gourk fell to his furry paws to see what was wrong with his friend. With a trembling paw, Gourk removed the hides from Gerkyan’s body, they felt sticky and stuck to his body. His torso and back were full of scars; black blood was dripping from Gerkyan’s arms as Gourk carried him inside the cave, where the other young Bhearous were preparing everything to go down to the trial grounds.

This grotto is one of thousands of caves and caverns that plague the mountains of this region. It's said by the elders, that there are hundreds of yet undiscovered caves, hidden behind vines or trees, dripping with moss and ferns. The main cavern is composed of many chambers united by a series of paths and branches, which long ago were divided to the different families of the Blood-Pack. Even if all of his family members were dead, Gourk still keeps his part of the cavern for himself.

The trial is made in order to maintain a balance of power between the Bhearou, and their hundreds of intertwined families. What many don’t know is, that it is a way to keep their numbers down, after all, a Bhearou female can have four cubs in each heat season. Anyone can challenge a leader to take his place, but there’s a price to be paid. The loser becomes a personal slave to the victor or in some cases; he is sacrificed in a bloody ritual to Rothekay and The Anunna-Ki Purge Gods.

Hold on Gerkyan! Gourk grunted as he blew some air into his friend’s face.

No one in the Blood-Pack knows the whereabouts of Gerkyan’s parents, except for Denmch and the grand elder himself, but since Gerkyan is a slave; his past is kept a secret from him. Denmch took Gerkyan as a slave when he was a few years old and Gerkyan learned to walk with that harsh goad since he was a cub. No one in the Blood-Pack seemed to care about what Denmch did with the cub; they despised his human looking face and sensibilities. The fact that Gerkyan was born mute made him even more vulnerable, since he can’t speak about what happens during the night when the torches and the fires allow the darkness to reign supreme. Gerkyan only watches in silence as things happen to him, because he’s a mute.

Gourk seems to understand Gerkyan a bit; sometimes Gourk wonders where Gerkyan goes to when he has that far away look in his eyes, and what he’s thinking of while he’s listening to his words. On the nights the Blood-Pack is making some sort of celebration, Gerkyan stays outside looking at the stars, almost as if he were waiting for something to happen.

Once something had woken me from a deep slumber. I didn’t know what it was at first, but it was the sound of crying. Since I couldn’t sleep I went outside to see what it was, and there I saw Gerkyan for the first time, he was barely ten winters and crying without tears. He was looking at his bloodied hands, and even if it was fall, all he was wearing was a piece of bloodied leather covering his private parts. I can remember him hiding behind a rock formation once he saw my approach; he was so afraid that he was quivering.

I couldn’t forget the look he gave me that night. Without realizing it I sobbed with him, I did the forbidden, the worst taboo a Bhearou can commit, and I cried as the females do when they are in birthing pains. I just couldn’t hold it. For some reason, young Gerkyan calmed down once he saw my tears, and then looked at me silently with a vague, confused smile.

I disappeared into the forest for a few days, and when I came back, I had a gift for him. It was something I had crafted with my own paws, a hide loincloth, and a leather vest. Gerkyan took them with happiness, and that night he paid the price for them to his master, but forgetting the pain after, he was glad for the gift I gave him.

Gourk had always known what Denmch was doing to Gerkyan, but he couldn’t do anything about it, he didn’t have the power to do anything. When Gourk was getting close to the main chamber of the Blood-Tribe, he saw that everybody was already gone except for Dench, Denmch’s son, a horse tailed Bhearou about the same age as Gourk, even if stronger and much taller. Dench stood from the ground to meet Gourk.

You still unready Gourk? What you got there? He saw Gerkyan and spat. Cub sitting! Dench grunted looking at Gerkyan with rage in his dark eyes.

Stop it Dench! Can’t you see that he’s dying, help me take care of his wounds while we can, summon the healer! Gourk glanced fiercely at the other Bhearou.

Dench stood still for a few seconds looking at Gerkyan, as if accessing the situation. He’s not worth ten years of training Gourk, not even a single minute of it. Hells he is not even worth my damn seed. Dench grunted as he squeezed his genitals, spraying the ground with his pheromones.

Gourk snapped. He haven’t done anything to you Dench, he’s just your father’s toy! Gourk cried.

Stay alive is what he has done Gourk, let him die outside where he belongs, and come with me! Just forget about him, and let my father deal with his life! Dench spat on Gerkyan’s face.

At least summon the healer Dench. I’ll stay with him while you go. Can you do that for me? Gourk asked, feeling Gerkyan getting colder.

You are weak Gourk! But I’ll send somebody to help you with your problem. Dench walked away.

I'll be at my lair! Gourk cried back.

Gourk ran with Gerkyan in his arms, walking down many passageways, and caverns intercalated with streams and moss, until he reached his lair. His home and lair was a natural cathedral with a natural opening on the ceiling, which closely resembled a crooked crescent dripping with