Feast for the Gods of the Night - in memory of REH
Jul 24, 2017 17:42:54 GMT -5
Post by BlackHeart on Jul 24, 2017 17:42:54 GMT -5
First of all, it begin as a short story that I wrote for EVENSTAR competition, back in my country. Rules are that it had to be short (not biger than 50 lines) and that has to be on S&S/Epic Fantasy/Horror theme. And so I came up with the idea that this one I shall dedicate to the memory of REH. It is set in Thurian age, during the last days of that epoch to be exact, following the unsucesfull efort of a "divine king" to master the power of forgothen Ancient Ones. Some of you will find it less good, some of you maybe even satisfying enough... Of cource, every critic, positive or negative, is welcome. And so it begins:
"FEAST FOR THE GODS OF THE NIGHT"
A flock of frightened birds flew from the settled sea of oak trees when the thunder, as if the destruction of the world was announced, broke out over the mountains and echoed like an angry roar acros the surrounding valeys and forests. Then there comes a flash of bright light, terrible and threatening, that turned night into a day, as if some star fell to the ground to dispels darkness over the ruins of an ancient temple that disappeared even from the earliest memories of people.
The shadows were dancing like a whaiths upon cracked white walls on wich were spread wrinkled lichen and lianas, driven by a crackling flame that rose high from the center of a broken altar. If ever the beauty and splendor were adorned this chamber, time has long since sent them into oblivion, because it was not known when and wich pre-human civilization built these timeless walls. Before the altar crawled one man, dressed in a scarlet robe, with dragon motifs engraved in his royal armor. His facial features was distorted by the spasm of torture, and his eyes wandered lost to the flame pillar, which was raging at the altar in front of him. The scattered figures of his iron-armed guards were lying around, as if life had been drained out of them. The flame pillar before him seemed to soften a bit, but from its flames suddenly he heard words like the symphonie of manny voices, unearthly and terrible, that echoed like the sound of hellish bells.
"Look at you now, o, divine king " it sounded pridefully, "now that you writhe like a torn worm before Us ... No more a god, as you consider yourself, then this reptiles that crawl upon these broken walls. Look at you", echoed trough space like silent thunder "and see that in all your vehemence a crumble of wisdom you do not have! Why do you calling Us, you renegaded child of man, one who stained thy soul with all sins and horrors? Why didnt you listen to the priests of the Sun instead of cutting their heads when they warn you not to invoke the look of the forgotten Ancient Ones? Where now are your careless words with wich you praised yourself like a god? Where's the crown, to shine on your forehead like a star, for which you drove your own father in the blood?!"
But, from the lips of the divine king didnt come even a cling or whisper in response. He seemed to be suffering from some unbearable pain, while he was listening to the terrible voices that were not intended for human ears. Unwitting, he gripped the hilt of the crushed sword with such force that his hand turned white as snow.
"Tremble, Kodrus of Grondar!" flame roared and browned like blood. "Tremble, o, divine king, lord of dust and decay! You, who calls yourself a lion, and you are nothing but the beast, 'cause your palate does not crave for meat, how much your fangs crave for blood! Tremble and know that day comes when heavens will dissolve and the blue waves shall swallow the barbaric Atlantis and the wondrous Valusia, and the mighty giants of the earth shall split their mother's bosom to bury the shining cities of the Comorians and the Verulians. And on that day the winds of death will blown away your land and the world that you wanted to overcome when you tame the power of the Ancient Ones! Wretched fool! You wanted to be equal to the gods, and behold, the dark among them spread their claw decorated hands so they could receive and feast on thy soul!"
Suddenly, a strange mist, transparent and unearthly, came from nowhere and cover the frightened king. He screamed and began to fight without avail when he was suddenly raised up from the floor. His armor and clothes were torn apart by some invisible force, and just moment later red drops began to fall on the stone floor and to merge into a pool of blood. Gruesome wounds started to spread on his naked flesh though there was nothing, at least not visible to the eye, that would carved them. Once again through the night has erupted a terrible cry of pain. It seemed that it continue to echoes even after white skeleton of the so called "divine king" falled on a scarlet covered floor. The flaming tongues shook like a thunder and then rushed like fiery spear into heaven. Only the silence left that morning, in the days before the great cataclysm; sinister, frightening, deep silence... As a quiet slumber before the storm.
By Mladen Markovic
(in memory of R. E. Howard)
