Brewer King 54 (Patreon)

Hesna had arrived. San stared at the towering figure in the flames. It hurt his eyes, it shook his mind, and all he wanted to do was scream and gouge his eyes out. Yet he stood frozen before the bonfire and watched as flame spun and wove into a shape.

He could feel it, the ripping of the veil between the worlds. He could feel it in every fire that was burning across the city. The bonfires that the cultists had set up, each and every one of them was a gateway to horrors. Soon they would be coming through and death’s reign would begin.

He had to stop her. He had to stop the breech from forming. But the sacrifice had already been made, the sun was setting, and they were too late.

“Give me the ebony gem ,” Densa said. “I know how to resolve this!”

San hesitated for only a moment before he dug into his pockets to pull out the plastic bag holding the obsidian gem. It seemed to pulse malevolently in the firelight.

The roar of the fire was loud in his ears. Densa’s hands wrapped in his and he could see a smile on her lips.

“You are a good man, San,” she said. “I do this of my own freewill. I do this willingly.” With that she shoved the gem into her mouth and dropped to her knees, a keening scream escaping her mouth. Blood immediately began flow, but she remained staring at the flame. “Enter me, Hesna. A willing host awaits!”

“What are you doing!” San cried, reaching to stop her.

“You know what you must do,” Densa said, her voice gurlgling from the flowing blood. “It will take a moment for Hesna to reorientate herself. Slay her before she can fully form.”

“You mean kill you?” San cried.

“Yes, dear Sanjay. Kill me and you kill her. You prevent her from coming into this world and destroying it. I can… I can feel her-“

Densa’s head snapped back as light, deep and dark as blood, flowed from her eyes and mouth. San could feel the very air thicken and the smell of rot, death, and chaos was heavy in the air. Densa shuddered and her bones cracked as if readjusting for something far larger to inhabit the body.

With tears running down his face, San lifted his sword. The blood red eyes of Densa latched onto him.

“Stop,” she said.

****

“Stop, okay? Just stop,” Mary said in an annoyed tone. “Your dumb-ass excuses aren’t doing anything but making you look like the world’s biggest idiot.”

“You said it was cool if I went out,” San said. “You never said we had to meet your parents for breakfast.”

“Getting hammered and coming home late and drunk, not answering your phone, driving drunk? That’s where I draw the line of being ‘cool’ at,” she snapped at him.

“It worked out okay,” San said. He gripped his head. “Man, I don’t think I’ve been this hungover in years.”

“Congrats,” she said blandly. “You’ve achieved something there. Father of two and business owner, getting shitfaced with your loser college buddies.”

“Those college buddies are who got us together,” San said.

“Just get in the car and try to sober up, will you? You should just stay here,” she added.

“Nah, babe. I’m good,” San grinned. He waved at the two small figures in the backseat of the car. “It’s been a while since your pa and I talked shop.”

San blinked his eyes as he watched the two figures argue. It was a memory, but it was also in full display before him. He watched as she clenched her fists, the look of annoyance that crossed her face, the muttering of curses that he had never noticed before. Had she been that angry he wanted to come along?

“You know what happens next,” a voice said at his side.

San was scared or frightened to see Densa beside him. Nor was he shocked when she turned blood red eyes to him.

“Hesna,” San said.

“How does this family drive end, I wonder?” Hesna said.

San didn’t say anything as the family piled into the car. The ignition was turned and they pulled out of the driveway. He watched as his former self rolled down the window and stick his head out, enjoying the breeze.

“I can make you forget,” Hensa said. “I can make you forget all of this. Forget the pain, the misery, and the ache you feel in your heart.”

“Why?” San asked.

“Just submit to me and I’ll wash it all away. You will not suffer, you will not know pain if you submit to me.”

“And I’ll become some kind of zombie,” San replied.

“But your soul will be free of the chains of grief that pull it down. That is the true gift I bring, Sanjay King. I bring you freedom, from pain and suffering. I am no monster. All I wish is for mankind’s suffering to end.”

“By killing everything?”

The car’s signal lights flashed. The old Sanjay waved at a woman walking her dog. “Nice dog!” he shouted and laughed hysterically. What an idiot.

“By bringing peace to the suffering.”

“Seems like an idiotic method. Why not just help them and ease their suffering? You’re a supposed god, aren’t you?”

“Foolish mortal,” Hesna in Densa’s face hissed. Her blood red eyes stared into his. “Give me your pain and suffering. Allow me to make you whole again. You shall never feel the pain of this moment ever again.”

The car rumbled down the street, heading toward an intersection. San felt himself bracing at what was to come.

“Submit or you’ll live this moment forever.”

“Fuck you,” San said.

Hesna laughed. “So be it.”

***

“San!” Mary screamed. Her voice was cracking.

“Babe!” San yelled back. Blood was trickling down his vision and his leg was a throbbing ball of pain. “Babe!”

He lay in the street, having been thrown from the open window while not wearing a seat belt. The crumpled mess of the car lay before him. The hiss of steam, smoke, and the smell of fuel filled his sense.

“Mary!” San cried, dragging himself forward.

He could see the top of another car. A crimson vehicle that had stuck them head on. She was trapped he could see. The steel shell wrapping around her and locking her in place.

San tried getting up, but the pain exploded in his leg and he fell to the ground. The road was eerily quiet and absent of vehicles.

“Help!” he screamed. “Help!”

There would be no help coming. Not for minutes more.

Then the fuel caught fire.

***

San felt the tears running down his face. He could feel his heart breaking and shattering once again. He cursed his stupid previous version of himself for surviving. All the pain and suffering came back in an instant.

“I can make it go away,” Hesna said. Her voice was soothing, like an icy balm.

San felt her hands on his shoulder, slowly moving down his back.

“You need not suffer,” she said.

“Fuck off,” San replied.

“So be it.”

***

San could feel the crushing pain in her ribs, the hot flow of blood as metal punched her stomach. She knew she was going to die; how many accidents had she seen during her job? This was a bad one.

“San!” Mary cried, blood already flecking her lips.

She could hear his voice somewhere, the world was going dark as pain worked its way up her side. She could barely breath. The smell of gasoline stuck her and she cried out once more.

“The babies! Save the-”

Then the world burst into flames.

***

San screamed. He gagged and cough as the pain and terror began to subside. He had felt her last moments on Earth. He had been there when she had died. He screamed again.

“I can do this forever,” Hesna said. “Just give up. Give me your pain and I shall set you free.”

“No,” San gasped. “No.”

“So be it.”

***

Was it days? Was it years? San didn’t know. All he felt were the endless waves of pain and burning. The endless watching as his family died over and over again. He could barely comprehend what was happening anymore. It all blurred and it all tore at him.

San lay upon an obsidian floor, naked. His hair was a tangled mess that hung to his shoulders and his body was a covered in a feverish sweat. Blood, vomit, and spit flecked his bread and his eyes stared dully at nothing.

A woman of pale skin and dark hair gracefully sat before him. He barely blinked as she smiled down at him, reveling sharpened teeth.

“Even in this dark place, your fire burns,” she said to him.

“No, I don’t want it anymore,” San whispered. “Just let me die, already.”

“Do not say such words, Sanjay. It is the fire within you that sustains you, that will see you through this trial.”

“Trial? It’s over. I’m guilty. Now let me die.”

“Shhh,” Winter’s Lament said, pulling him close. She wrapped her ice cold arms around him and rocked him as he began sobbing. “The fire burns brightest in the darkness. The fire burns hottest in the cold.”

“I am not a fire,” San whispered back.

“Do not hide from your grief, Sanjay. One cannot hide from grief, one cannot drown it, one cannot erase it. It is stitched into your soul, it makes you who you are.”

“I don’t want to see it anymore,” San whispered. “I can’t see them die again.”

“Then face it. Not even the gods can warp the will of mankind. They can only trick and fool.”

“Just let me die,” San whispered.

“No, my love. This is not where your path ends.”

***

“San!” Mary cried, blood flecking her lips.

***

He could hear their flesh crackling, the stink of burning meat, as he wailed on the asphalt. He could hear it and he screamed.

***

“We managed to save the leg, Mr. King,” the doctor said. “You were lucky.”

“LUCKY?” San screamed. He tried to grab the doctor, but his limbs barely moved, his body wasn’t listening to him. Instead he lurched sideways and fell off his bed. There was a clatter of machinery and scrambling of nurses trying to help him.

“LUCKY!” San continued screaming.

***

He never saw them buried. It was a closed casket affair anyway. They were buried on Mary’s family’s plot. Dozens of generations were buried there. He never went to see them. Instead he sat in the empty house. The silent house. The dead house.

And he drank. Bottle after bottle. Can after can.

People came and offered condolences. He never saw Mary’s parents. Why had he survived when they didn’t? He didn’t blame them, he wished he had died too. He never wanted to see his face again too.

The days blurred and the people blurred too.

Yet, even the darkness lifts from time to time. A moment of clarity and a moment without pain.

San awoke in a foul smelling bed, the clattering of cans and bottles around him. The crinkle of fast food wrappers, junk food, and trash swirled around his feet.

He looked at himself in the mirror, thick beard, heavy gut, and slouched shoulders. How many months had passed, he wondered. How many months had he been absent from his life?

That morning he showered and wash. He cleaned up the filth of his empty home. He cooked himself something to eat. And he dug in his closet for a gift he had been given long ago.

***

On Earth he had died somewhere on that mountain. He was sure that was what everyone believed. His note to his brother told them so. The fact he left all his affairs in order would only strengthen it. They would never find his body, of course. But they too would be feeling the grief and suffering he had felt.

The thought had only surfaced a few times. What had he left behind, but more misery and pain? The fire was hottest when it was coldest. Brightest when it was darkest. The misery was greatest when the love was deepest.

San ached for his family. They were out there somewhere. In some other plane of existence, perhaps? Either that or he had been hallucinating. His children. His wife. They were out there, they had to be.

Yet he hadn’t joined them. He had the chance. He had the opportunities. He had nearly done so many times, but in the end. He had not joined them.

Was it cowardice? Was it fear?

No, San thought. It wasn’t either of those.

He could see the other faces that he had met in the weeks he had been in this world. Pavano, his first and true friend. Elgava, tough and faithful. Even Histoa, for all his haughtiness, he had stood fast in a fight. Endaha and her children. Azios, forced to become a man in a world at war.

He hadn’t given up because there was more to the world than his own grief. There were people who were counting on him. What would happen to Endaha and the children if Hesna was allowed into the world.

What would happen to Pavano? To Elgava? Or the thousands of residents who were now prey to the Afflicted and soon the Void Horrors.

Mary was screaming again, but this time is seemed to stretch on forever. San could only stare from his broken position. His leg a bloody mess, his body battered and bruised, and without the strength to move forward. Her screaming echoed down his ears and into his soul, reverberating until it seemed to about shatter it.

It was the past. It all had happened already. Nothing he could do now would absolve it. Nothing would change it. Did these pretend gods have access to time travel? That’s the only thing that would change it.

He had grieved. He had suffered. He had finally found some solace when he made his decision to go up the mountains.

This was the past and it was already done with. There was nothing else but to continue on. To live, for them and for the new friends he had made in this world. He could not save his family, but perhaps he could save other families.

He clung onto the grief. He would never let it go, because it was a part of him. It had been stitched into his soul. No one would take it from him. No one would snuff out the pain that would also ache in his soul. For his grief was as strong as his love for his family. Until the day they were reunited, he would continue holding onto it. He could never forget it.

***

The fire burned a rainbow of inverted colors that hurt the eye. It made the mind shuddered and caused that frightened beast in the corner of one’s mind to wail. San stared at it and looked down at his hands. He had dropped his stolen sword.

The glint of the basket hilted broadsword caught his eye. He reached for it, the movement seemingly stretched for an eternity. His hands wrapped around the familiar hilt.

The fire began swirling faster and faster. The figure that had once dominated the sky was gone, instead wisps of smoke lead to Densa. Or what was left of Densa. Her skin had begun to darken, to crisp and flake. Her blood red eyes still stared forward and that horrid light still shone from it.

“I’m sorry,” San said. He could feel the tears tickling at the edge of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

San lifted the sword up and the world seem to return back to motion. The roar of the fire was thunderous. Densa/Hesna turned to look at him in horror. Scream of the Afflicted and people filled the air. And San brought the sword down.

A soul rending scream filled the air. San staggered back and dropped to his knees. Densa’s body shredded apart, bone, blood, and sinew, but without a drop of blood. It was torn apart in a vortex of fire and smoke, of deep crimson and something else, a sickening color that made San gag.

The bonfire roared even higher. He stared as the flames seemed to tower toward the heavens. He could feel something happening. Something was wrong.

The veil between the Void and the world was still breaking. Soon the breech would be opened and the world would die. San watched as Densa’s body slumped to the ground, how? He had seen it burst, shred, and vanish. But now her bloodied body fell to the ground, the broadsword still jutting from her chest.

San crawled to her, his hands shaking.

“The sun sets,” a voice croaked.

San looked to see Histoa on his hands and knees. His eyes were bleeding and his face was stitched with small cuts. Yet he stared at the pillar of flame before them. Horror, terror, and awe creased his face.

“The Breech,” he said.

His hands didn’t burn as he reached into the fire. He could feel the heat, he could feel his clothing smoking, but it did not touch him. He willed the fire to change, but there was only a deep pain that threatened to turn his world black. San sagged back, feeling the emptiness inside of him. What was wrong?

Then he felt the small bulge against his robes. A glass container that he had been given. San looked at the mana potion and gulped it down. It burned down his throat and he could feel the mana running through his body.

He shoved his hands back into the fire.

“Fire in the Night!” he screamed and poured every ounce of mana into the incantation.

He gasped and the world went dark.

***

The cold grey light of morning caused San to blink as he came back to consciousness. He was cold, everything was cold. Yet he was not dead. He groaned as he moved, the shuffling and weeping of people told him that there were others alive too.

Where had the Afflicted gone?

Had he been outside all night?

San shivered as he rolled onto his knees. The battered leg armor screeched against the stone and his charred gauntlets clattered to the ground, their leather burned and the clasps nothing more than melted nubs. Yet his arms were free of burns.

The fire smoldered before him, still casting warmth and heat. He shivered again at what that flame once held. But now the thick beams that had burned the night before were ash and charcoal. There was no flames, only redden embers among the gray ash.

His eyes fell upon a figure. Dressed simply and covered in crimson. A sword still embedded into her flesh.

San crawled to Densa’s body. He ached with what he had done. He let out a soft sob and he clung to her cold corpse. She had saved this world. She had trapped Hesna. She had given her life for the life of everyone in this world.

“The Head Healer is dead,” a gruff voice said.

San looked up to see Havatair standing before him. Bandages covered his limbs, making him more mummy than man.

“Woe be unto us, then,” he continued. “Esomir is dead, by his own hand.”

San couldn’t care less. What was one Baron to Densa? What was one power hungry asshole compared to this woman?

“Good,” San said, stroking Densa’s hair.

“The city burns,” Havatair said.

San looked up to the horizon, to south where the bulk of the city lay. Thick white smoke billowed into the sky, covering everything. It rose high, melding into the gray clouds that were thickening in the sky.

“Endaha,” San said. Pavano and Azios too.

A strong wind picked up, billowing San’s tattered robes and wisking away the smoke coming from the smoldering fire. He felt something cold and thick land upon his exposed face, his hand came away wet as he touched it. A flurry of white began to descend upon him and Havatair, enveloping them in snow.

“Midwinter’s Reprieve is over,” Havatair said “Now begins the toughest part of the year.”