CHAMPION OF DEAD TIME (part 4)

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Soon enough an abomination appeared in the poison sky. It drifted like a monumental jellyfish the colour of starlight. Fifty-foot long tentacles hung from the bloated bag of its body, radiating a purple hue as they protected a great sack filled with many eggs. Who knew where the creature was headed, or what manner of life would hatch from it. The Retrospective only cared about exterminating the anomaly before those eggs were laid, and it had once again charged its champion with the task.

    But the demon was distracted. 

    As the creature drifted by overhead, the demon was transfixed by a line of silver light that had split the air. The light began to widen, spilling its sterile glow onto the red and scorched ground. The demon flinched, raising its axe, as the ringing in its mind became clearer, melodious. When the light widened enough, the man revealed himself. And this time, he was not alone.

    Behind him, a strange treelike creature had wrapped its serpentine branches around the wrists and ankles of an unconscious human. As the captive was held aloft, the rest of the tree's branches coiled and writhed in the air like a host of snakes. A woman studied the captive. She was dressed similarly to the man, in a black cassock, and her hair fell down her back as long and straight as a fall of oil. She showed no interest in the demon; and although the demon couldn't see her face, it somehow knew that the woman bore scarring on her forehead. 

    The demon flinched a second time, as the man's extraordinary, undeniable magic reached out and stroked its mind, gentle as a sigh. The demon resisted the urge to flee, and allowed the magic to saturate it. The man's voice, so strong and enticing and alien, whispered with a question: Are you still loyal to the Genii?

    The demon knew its answer instinctively. Dropping to one knee, laying aside its axe, it bowed its head to the man in the silver light. As it did so, old memories surfaced, of things the demon hadn't realised it knew. Long ago, before the Retrospective had raged into existence, there had been a war. A mighty war that had shaken Houses, divided creatures of great magic . . . and the enemy had won.

    Look for me, the man said, and the rent in the air vanished, taking the silver light with it.

    The demon stayed down on its knee, hoping that the man would come back. The clean, vibrant ringing in its head receded to a distant song once again. The demon remained kneeling until the Retrospective decided to remind it of its duty.

    A screech came from above. The bloated jellyfish and its sack of eggs had drifted into the distance, but flying towards the demon was a wild monster, borne on leathery wings. It landed with a thud not far away, and a final beat of its wings stirred up a cloud of burnt dust. The monster's body was bulky, but its neck was sleek and long. It regarded the demon with soulless eyes, snapping a deep mouth filled with crooked, glass-like teeth. It was an impatient gesture, not threatening, and the demon noticed the saddle of bone growing from the ridges on the monster's back.

    Snatching the axe from the ground, the demon ran at the flying monster and jumped into the bone saddle. Encouraged by the demon's heels, the monster beat its great wings and vaulted into the air. With the axe raised high, the demon soared skyward, racing to where the giant jellyfish floated into the horizon. The thrill of the hunt would have to suffice for now. But wherever the Retrospective chose to send its champion next, the demon would always listen to the song in its mind, and search for the man in the silver light.


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