Into the Deep Wood

A fragment of the Shattered God.

He felt their eyes on him. The hour was late, and the curious glances of the tribesmen followed his every step. They’d been put up in the red tent where they met the Chieftan - an administrative location, really, and good enough to fit four.

Only four.

He had still not been able to speak to Val. After the ceremony, the High Priestess disappeared with her - leaving the Chieftan to guide them the rest of the way.

Still no answers. Still nothing from her. But, at this point, he was not sure it mattered so much anymore. Returning to Barzah was not an option any longer.

“We have to talk.” Yaro sat them all down as soon as the tent door fell closed. His tone was serious. A first, and it made all the men listen carefully. “Being a hunter, I can unders-tand. But, being a god? The Ember Sw-ord –Marat, whatever it i-s you want to call yours-elf. I walk by your s-ide day to day. I bring my mac-e to your battle-s. I cannot follow a man I do not know. That I do not trus-t.”

Marat looked to the ground. They were seated around a small fire that produced almost no heat.

“You’re right, Yaro.” He said. “I have asked you to follow me many times. And I think I will have to do so many more. You have my word that I will be truthful with you. With you all.”

Iros looked at the men present. Yaro’s disappointment was evident, and Ivan had not looked up once from studying his boots.

“I was not a born god.” Marat continued. “I was given a name. One that belonged to a god-child. It was not on purpose. I should not be alive now. And because of this, I am not like the other gods.”

“The name.” It was Ivan who spoke.

“What?”

“What was the name.”

Marat seemed to think on the answer for a moment.

“Many were listed off. All meant ‘life’.”

“Why would someone give you their child.”

“They didn’t. It was an act of desperation. A mistake.”

Ivan’s face darkened even more as he settled into thoughts of what those words meant. For a moment it seemed that realization crossed his face, but it could have been the shadows of the flames.

“Thank you,” Yaro said. “I thought I wa-s in the pres-en-se of royalty when I found out you were the Marat… for fucks-ake. Plu-s, I think Iro-s knew, and I take offen-se to that.”

Iros grinned lightly.

“You think he would have made it this far without a chaperone?” He said. “I am a glorified babysitter to a tempered supreme being.”

“Supreme being is a bit much,” Marat said.

“Oh?” Iros said, amused. “Did I miss a title you prefer then? Typhonos’ Right Hand, perhaps? Lord Commander, Savior of the South?”

“I prefer to go to bed.”

“S-peaking of,” Yaro looked at Ivan, “Perhap-s we sh-ould all leave our weapon-s outs-ide. For s-afety.”

Ivan turned to Marat, unsmiling, the first time he met the man’s eyes.

“I had no right.” He said. “Of everyone, I had no right to take her. And I am sorry. I truly did tell her to bring it to you. More than once. But it is not on her that I eventually said yes. It is on me.”

Marat considered him, looking for any sign of insincerity. But there was none.

“Then let us put it behind us.” He agreed. “But there is something else that has to be decided here.”

He turned to the others and looked at each of their faces in turn.

“I am going to take Valeria to the Wound. And it would be an honor to have any man here with me.”

“What do you mean ‘dec-ieded’?” Yaro snorted. “A-s if it was-n’t already implied that-s where we are going.”

“It is kind of unnecessary,” Iros said. “Ivan there was already going. You’ll blow a vein if I don’t go. Yaro wants to impress his lady priestess.”

“I don’t need to impre-ss her. Sh-e i-s already impress-ed.”

“I appreciate it.” Marat said. “But you must know, the Wound is highly corrupted. It is not only difficult to be near, but it is guarded by the three-headed serpent.”

“Two-headed,” Ivan said quietly.

“What?”

“Two-headed, one got cut off.”

“I don’t know how, but it came to Aziza,” Iros explained. “A ramboat took off one of its heads.”

“Ivan cut off the head of a Zmei?” Yaro looked on with admiration with his mouth hanging open.

“Yaro, how do you know so gods-damned much? I had no idea it was named.” Marat said. The large man just shrugged.

“Story for another time.” Ivan finished.

The evening ended late, the echoes in the camp ceasing quickly. By the time morning came, Yaro was gone - presumably on his previously mentioned arrangement with the priestess.

After the ceremony, Val was taken to the priestess’ quarters. The woman warned her that the people needed time to process what had been revealed to them. It was best that such as she was not among the general population. Not yet.

“How had you known about Marat?” She asked as Anukk’a washed her face and took the set of bone-rings off her fingers.

“There are many things that our people have done for many generations that allow me such.” She answered. “The Nothing and the Shattered God are closely tied together. And as I have dedicated my life to both, I can see both even when they are hidden within living bodies.”

She looked at Val with her kind smile.

“Although, I can tell that his is on its second life.”

“When can I see him?”

“Tomorrow. It will be arranged, but your contact has to be limited for the time being. My tribe keeps no secrets among them. But they are only people and each is free to think and decide things for themselves. I will not risk either of you being put in danger until you leave.”

Val was silent for a moment, trying to gather the courage to bring something up from the day that they spent together.

“Priestess,” She started with a certain skip to her words. “What was spoken of today…”

“It is your choice if you want to disclose that. But remember that people hear what they want to hear. They will interpret it accordingly. Should they not understand you, you will create obstacles for yourself. Perhaps you should show that you can, before you do.”

“I do not want to hide anything from him.”

“He may be a god, but his heart is that of a man. And you did not arrive here through the decisions of his heart.”

It was not until midday when Marat was taken outside the camp to the cave opening, and into a grove of dead trees beyond. Val was waiting there nervously. But, before she could say anything, he pulled her against himself tightly, his fingers in her hair.

“I’m going to take you.” He said. “I am sorry that I didn’t listen before.”

He could feel her shaking slightly. When he let go, she was trying to contain a smile and would not meet his eyes.

“I do not deserve you.” She said. “I lied to you, and you…”

“I think me almost killing your friend makes us even.”

“Ivan…” She seemed like she just now remembered the confrontation the night before; she’d heard about it already. “It was not his fault.”

“I know.” He said. “And I understand why he gave in. But you shouldn’t do that to him, Val.”

“I will speak with him.”

“I think you should leave him be. For now.”

They spent the day together before Yaro was sent to get them. In the evening, the five were brought in front of the High Priestess and the Chieftan. Only four other women were present. Every one of them tattoed like the priestess.

“It is our intention to guide you through the mountains.” She started. “It will reduce your travel days to the Iron Wall. We will supply you with whatever you may need.”

“It was our hope that this could be done quickly. But a tempest has come from the North. Not half a league out, it surrounds the mountains and will engulf us within the hour. You are to remain here until it passes.” The Chieftan added. “There is a Thunder Bird guiding it. Even such as you will not survive were you to try and brave it.”

“A Thunder Bird?” Val asked.

“They live in the desert mountains. The tempest stretches far, and somewhere inside, it beats its wings.” The Chieftan said.

“It-s called an ‘Impundulu.’” Yaro turned to Val. “Impos-ible to catch. Too long of a dis-tans-e.”

“Yaro, how is it that you know of every creature, ones that even I do not?” Marat asked, unbothered by the formality of the existing company.

“Do you not know, hunter?” Anukk’a asked, visibly surprised. “It is Yaroslav who had written both the Encyclopedia of Beasts and Archive of the Nothing-Touched. Did they not teach you these at your schools?”

“Dictated,” Yaro said. “Hand-s get tired.”

Out of all of them, Marat seemed to be the only one who understood the significance of this. Both textbooks had been the basis of the schooling any aspiring hunter received. They had been used for more than thirty years, and this would have made the man… by gods, but how old was he after spending so long in the Deep Wood?

“How long?” Iros asked.

“It could be a day. It could be a month.” The Chieftan said. “The storm encircles us, hoping to feed. If we are to give it nothing, it will move on. Wardwrights are being put up as we speak to protect against its descent. No one is to leave the cave walls until it does.”

When they walked back, the crosses positioned suspended on the tall cave walls were being prepared. Ugly dog-like creatures’ bodies were being tied to them. Their heads more so resembled rats, and their slick tails ended in hairy bushes. As they were being tied, their torsos were cut and stuffed with rocks of salt.

“Are we safe?” Val asked Marat.

“They seem to know what they are doing.” He answered. “They have been out here for a long time.”

The dark blood of the beasts began dripping down the walls and splashing on the rocks below.

Ivan slowed his step and leveled with the Chieftan.

“How long can the camp sustain itself without hunting?” He asked.

“We have the livestock. Streams run deeper in the cave. And, if it comes down to it, there are plants here. They themselves are not edible, but their seeds are.” He answered.

“Do you never send parties out?”

“It is too dangerous. If the storm shifts, we can send a few of the more skilled men to the canyons. The animals get cornered just like we are. But it is a great risk as the winds move in fast.”

“If this were to happen, I want to go with them,” Ivan said, looking out across the people. The Chieftan considered him with interest.

“And if you die?”

“Then I will die having earned my place.”

The man stopped and faced Ivan straight on.

“It is commendable what you offer. And I accept. Should we send a party, you will go with them.”

They could hear the storm outside. The small opening at the very top of the cave whistled harshly, the sound casting an air of worry among all the inhabitants. At times, Val and Marat would stand near the mouth of the cave and watch the winds that whipped the sand around. It was so thick that they could not see a single rock formation beyond.

The wardwrights held. Each day, people would climb up to them and take care to move the ropes and shift the bodies so that no part of them would rot away faster than another. These would last two weeks at best, and it had already been one. The smell they let off was more horrid than anything they had ever smelled before.

“Corps-e-eaters.” Yaro scoffed. “Twic-e the death, twic-e the s-mell.”

“They will have to be replaced soon.” Marat stood by him as they both examined the drooping creatures. “If we wait until they start dropping from the walls, we may not be able to get them fast enough to replace.

Yaro side-eyed him.

“What’re you s-aying?”

Marat smiled.

“What do you say?”

“S-on of a bitch.” Yaro laughed, his belly shaking. “Let-s go. Anush-ka can ward u-s, to a point. Give u-s at leas-t a few hour-s.”

Within the next day, the three were allowed to leave. Ivan had insisted on joining, and Marat had not objected to this. Using red paint made from carminic acid of crushed insects, Anukk’a drew patterns, similar to those tattooed around her head, on the men's faces.

“These will last six hours before your skin becomes too oily for it to hold. Do not remain in the storm longer than that.” She instructed them, and they went off.

Val watched the three leave. She wandered along the cave, anxiously looking for any new path to follow. She had been uneasy for days, feeling the energy of the tempest all around her. It was different than the anger of the other Nothing-touched. It was not angry at all. It was… oppressive. And, it called to her.

She waited until Iros had gone off to help with the animals, then slipped past the tents and to the back of the cave. From there, she waited until no one was in sight to duck through a set of stalagmites and toward the cave mouth opposite of the one facing the canyon.

She stood at the very edge, but even from there, the winds carrying bits of sand and dirt whipped at her face and hair.

A shadow of a person stood out just at the edge of visibility. It was unmoving, arms at its sides and facing her. Val looked back silently. It had been louder here. The call. This was the origin.

She looked out to where the sky should have been - but instead was only crimson darkness. The figure turned and walked away from her into the gale. Without the time to reconsider, Val stepped forward and outside the protection of the cave wall.

For a moment, her skin burned where the debris assaulted her. But then, it was as if it calmed. All around her, it raged as she walked, but all had missed her as if she were in the eye of the storm. The shadow of the figure ahead kept walking forward, and she followed. She did not know how long it was or how far, but soon, the wind settled around a small clearing. It was barren aside from a large dead tree.

The shadowed figure waited there.

Uncertainly, but knowing it was far too late to turn back as the winds had trapped her there, Val walked to it. As she got closer, the shadows turned into a man.

And gods, but he was beautiful.