Chapter 4: Storm

"Lightning caresses the sky."​

"Storm."

His name scarcely leaves your lips, and the entire passage trembles. Water flows around your form, as the passage completely floods. Water flows out from your lips. A presence is beside you, but the prayer is lost to any listener. Feeling slips from your body. Ray slips from your arms, and is swept away into the current. You become lost to it.

Water must be in your lungs. A single, deep, and wet breath is pulled in.

Everything goes black.

You're held in the embrace of an endless ocean. Clouds gather in incomprehensible shades of turmoil. Lightning caresses the sky. Time has no place here. An impossibly beautiful figure extends beyond night and the sun. There's nothing but your intent to see a God.

​

Water is in and all around you. You can't breathe. You can't move. Your body is nothing but heat arcing through a tortured, and endlessly fractured vessel.

As you gaze upwards and into the clouds, you are pieced back together. Desperation reaches out to Him. You can speak, and your word is your own.

"My weakness is your strength."

The rising tempest drowns out your speech. Wind stirs the sky into a frenzy. From darkened clouds, rain falls in sweeping sheets. The flood raises all the ocean. Thunder quakes the earth and sky. The earth is no more. A fell arc of lightning devastates the sea. Blindness consumes you.

He answers to your prayer.

Your eyes bolt open in shock. In the absence of Time and Flesh, you can see only see water all around. There's no telling how long you were granted a vision of a God. You come back to your body in intense shock— and convulse.

This is it.

Absolute loss of motor control takes hold of your breath. One, sharp inhalation floods your lungs with water. It's as if your body is on fire. Heat is behind your eyes. Coral and amber licks around your fingers. Lightning ripples through the current in all directions. Mercy's light was extinguished, but the new illumination casts from recurring sparks through your mind and all throughout your body.

He saved me.

Storm wants you to see. Hundreds of leeches have returned, and slowly inch towards you in a slow perimeter. As tendrils of electricity arc from your spine, through your arms, and out along trembling hands, they're driven back. Over. And over. And over again.

Gratitude would pour from you, were it not for the absolute inability to speak underwater.

A rising urge to scream elicits a few bubbles from your lips. Waterlogged limbs put terror into you deeper and with greater intensity than all of the sea. You've been down here for more than just a few minutes.

Ray.

It may have been hours.

Where is Ray?

Mortal fear for your boy's safety takes hold. The first attempt you make to swim forward is instantly pushed back. The leeches practically form a wall.

Where am I?!

Swimming and twisting in place does nothing to orient yourself. Above, below, and to either side are overwhelming masses of the faintly glowing parasites. Even the surrounding rock can barely be seen through their flickering forms.

You can't stop yourself, and scream in frustration. It takes the embrace of divinity to keep your skull from splitting.

What have they done?!

Tense, aching, and violently trembling from seizure, you barely manage to wrap your arms around your knees.

Was it really Him? A manifestation? A vision? A hallucination?

While waiting for the worst of the shaking to subside, it seems that the lightning arcing from your fingertips is the one thing on you that doesn't hurt.

There's someone counting on me.

Ray may have been given to you purely for protection, but he's become your best friend over the years. No matter what dangers you've faced, he's always come through.

Will I ever see Storm again? Why hasn't Mercy shown herself to me? What of any other God, for that matter?

Leeches passively float by.

Have I not been faithful enough?

Bolts of electricity angrily arc from your eyes and hands.

Am I not worthy?

The sparks push away the over-sized parasites each time they approach you. Their presence is claustrophobic, and you still can't see a damn thing past them.

Why NOW?

Trying to get your thoughts to stop racing is managed with extreme difficulty. After weighing your options— and praying that Ray isn't still in the passage— you straighten up. Swimming to a nearby outcropping of rock gives you enough leverage to wedge your feet into the silt and mud.

With a firm foothold, you clasp your hands together in prayer. Storm can't hear you down here— but he doesn't need to. You can feel Him.

Wind forms between your palms. Divinity courses through you. You dig in your heels, and splay your fingers. A gale manifests, and nearly propels you backwards. Dirt stirs up in clouds, along with the filthy runoff, the vermin, and the growing swirl of elements.

With as much force as you can muster, you spread your arms, and part the water before you. The gale expands, intertwining with the electricity crackling along your skin. You nearly collapse from the strain, but the water around you is keeping you afloat. The tempest is completely gathered with one, intricate motion. Arms and pain draws in on the raw energy that's poured from the recesses of your innermost being. The crackling swirl of impossibility would take your breath away, were your lungs not flooded.

Your eyes cloud over— and with a gasp, you release the gathering Storm. The sheer force you release creates a part in the water before and behind you. It will have to emerge somewhere. The entire corridor rapidly drains, as waves surge up against the surrounding walls. The leeches that have been plaguing you are surreally suspended in the filthy liquid. Not only do you stay on your feet, but you guide the rush of water. It's the blood that flows through your veins. An effortless exit. There's no need to dig yourself out from the corridor, now that you have a tide to move with.

A fluid motion coaxes the waves underfoot. Moving with it towards a blood-red light takes you along the passage, up a sharp rise in the corridor, and you emerge. Breathless. Drenched to the bone. Breathing water, and looking frantically around for Ray.

He had to have come this way. It was the only way out of that death trap.

No one else is in sight. Only your frantic, maddened reflection catches in the ruby light that reflects off of the water. It's ankle-deep and no longer rising, thanks to how vast this chamber is. It couldn't have flooded if you tried. Countless stone pillars extend in all directions. The grooved, stone structures reach up to a ceiling higher than your fall in the waterway. Searching in the oddly lit area here is proving difficult, but the fog of exhaustion on you makes way for vigilance. Smoke drifts along the floor, though you're certain that there are no further carvings or writings here.

Only pin-pricks of light are in the distance. For the first time since entering the ruins, you see torches on the furthest walls. They're likely entrances to deeper, well-lit areas. Someone has been down here. Thanks to their efforts, a black substance floats on the countless puddles littering the ground.

​

Oil. You open your mouth to shout out in terror. A flood of water comes out instead. Backing up and throwing your arms in front of your face only sparks further lightning. The many puddles in the room ignite. Flame rises high in patches along the length of the room.

Thundering footsteps sound in the distance. You lower your arms, and try to brace yourself.

What is this sorcery?

The greater demon you saw depicted upon the walls of the ruins emerges from the distant shadow. In a hideous spectacle, the source of the footsteps fully reveals itself. You have to raise your gaze to the ceiling to take in the full height of the behemoth. The heads of its many men are perched atop many armless torsos. Each torso rests atop a singular, bloodied, horse-like body. There are no hooves. There are no legs. It passes through the flames unscathed on all four of its muscular arms. The meaty appendages ripple with the weight of each step. The cracked and bleeding nails of its splayed and gargantuan fingers must be the size of your entire body.

The demon is heading your way. Its shadow will eclipse you in seconds. You frantically look around the room for any sign of Ray, but between the flames, heat, and poor lighting it's impossible to tell where he's at.

Your neck strains up to see the demon's absence of eyes. Its stitched together lips. Its squashed noses, bitten ears, bald heads, and protruding spines.

​

This monstrous form strikes no fear into your heart. You're a man of the Gods— and Storm has favored you this day.

Holding your ground, you pivot your feet. The rock underfoot cracks from blistering heat, as your connection to Storm intensifies. You bring your hands together. Electricity arcs in halos around you. Lightning courses through your veins. You lean into the tempest, and begin to kindle water with flame.

The demon charges, shaking the ground on which you stand as it screams with ten bleeding faces.

Storm's influence is more than the sacred motion with which you sweep your arms overhead. The fire of your adoration licks along the mesmerizing, decaying, blessed filth of the ruins. You will not succumb to exhilaration. You control this vortex of death. In one violent sweep, you pull a solid wall of water and flame from the nightmarish landscape before you.

The sorcerer rears back, though he is slowed only momentarily. Some elaborate, sudden motion is made with his foremost arm. Magic.

You grimace. Sweat clings to your back and neck, sticking with the oil and water you've immersed your very soul in. With an unbelievable effort, you bring forth the entire tide in a single step forward. It's swept into the colossal tempestuous force that you've gathered. A hold runs deeper in you than the lightning beneath your skin. You match his ferocity with every gallon of water. Every mote of flame.

Storm outstretches your reach towards the greater demon. The current flashes in the dark, as you engulf the entire demon in your elements.

It bucks and screeches with the agony of one thousand men. They're all begging for Mercy.

Faith is your guide. You fall to one knee at the terrible sound, tightening your outstretched hands into fists. The water below you keeps you from collapsing completely. You focus all of your will, and the hold persists.

Moments draw out for an eternity. Through the wall of flame and sea— in the endless effort— you catch your bloodied reflection. Lightning licks around your eyes and trembling body, as you kneel before a demon. For once, you don't mind the image.

Strength and a peal of thunder devastates the chamber from floor to ceiling. The demon's flesh chars under your continued, flaming administrations. Your mutual hatred and anguish meets for the briefest of moments. His eyes pop under blistering oil, and melt from rotten sockets.

I will deliver you from your suffering.

The greater demon is truly not a creature of this earth. It shows no signs of drowning. Unrivaled strength bucks and lashes against the pressure of the building water.

It's everything you can do to keep your eyes locked on the beast, as you practically fall prostrate before it. Your skin feels like it's bubbling from the heat of Storm's presence. Lightning crackles and whips around you, as you strain to contain both the demon and a God.

You know what has to be done, with outstretched hands towards the demon. For only a second, water cascades down its body. Flame crashes through the tide. The waterfall of destruction is the only second of Mercy it will ever be granted.

You release Storm. Electricity courses from the deepest recesses of your being. It slips through the cracks of your very soul, in a wave so deafening that the greater demon stops its screaming. An explosion of lightning arcs along the water, and travels up each wave before it can come crashing down. Your eyes sear with orange light. Your ears ring with divine blessing. The demon burns alive.

You can speak, before completely collapsing to the floor. "The Gods are Merciful."

Storm and the last of the invocation completely leaves you. With His presence goes the water from your lips. It was staving off the scent of burning and decayed flesh. The odor hits you so hard and fast that it's a fight to not heave as the greater demon's gargantuan body collapses into the water. Its collision with the floor of his chamber is deafening. Waves swell on every side of the monster's inert carcass. Smoke rises in huge plumes— and you realize in horror that you can't rest yet.

You feel like a husk. Your limbs are too heavy to move, and it's excruciating even to roll on your side. Drowning from laying flat in the water is as great a concern now as the towering beast was seconds ago.

Flame licks along the water.

You struggle to keep your eyes open.

Through the crackling flame, drifting smoke, and lapping water, you hear faint voices. They're off and away, somewhere on the edge of the room— but you're so exhausted, it's hard to tell. There's no fight left in you.

Self-mutilation isn't the worst thing you've done to survive. Considering your hand as you lift it before your eyes, there's the same long digits. Scarred and bent from being broken and healed over many times.

Deep breath.

You tighten your right hand into a knife, and sharply dig a few fingers into the open wound in your side. The soft flesh is excruciatingly tender from how much you've pushed yourself. You scream, and immediately have to stop the motion to prevent causing extreme damage. Your cry rings out through the high ceiling and countless stone pillars. Any voices that may have been in the distance stop.

Pain sears through your body.

Your blood is pumping.

By the time the last of the echo fades, you can get back to your feet.

With your bloodied hands together, you pray to Vengeance. You're soaked to the bone, and shiver slightly despite the flames. "Take my pain..." You step carefully through the water, keeping a wide berth from the demon's corpse. Eyes wide. Heart racing. "Take my anger..." The greater demon's corpse reeks of burnt hair and skin. Black blood courses through the water you held dominion over just minutes ago. "Take my weakness...." Pain shoots through your arms as you tense. Your eyes wildly scan the entire area, searching for sight or sound of anyone. "Take Vengeance." The tension in you abates just long enough for you sigh in relief— but your sudden exhale is cut short by a cry out in pain.

The injury in your side must be worse than you thought. You nearly double over, and take a knee. Head down. Pleading. "Take me— and my pain— and that which I must inflict—"

Your desperate prayers are cut short.

There's a blade at your throat.