Born a Monster

Chapter 118: Servant of the Axe, 18 – Mrs. Rhishisikk

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 18

Mrs. Rhishisikk

Her name was Madonna. She had named herself, shortly after being weaned from her mother.

She spoke nearly every language of the “migrant peoples”, and readily picked up new languages when exposed to them.

Her pupils were red, surrounded by an iris of orange, in eyes that were an unhealthy shade of yellow.

“I can assure you, they turn black as her hair when she is casting.” The shaman said. “She also meets your physical and mental requirements.”

.....

“Requirements?” she said. “What is going on, you feeble-livered fraud?”

“Madonna, take your bath. We have found you a husband.”

“A husband?” she shrieked. Her voice broke, took on a deeper tone. “I do NOT CONSENT! Flames, children of the hellfire, hear me, fear, and obey! I am Blacksoul Madonna, and I command you to bathe my form! Immolation!”

Well, crap.

“Water of ocean and river and rain! Hear my request, grant my desire! I am Rhishisikk, child of the sea, and I command you defend me against these flames. Move Water! Water Wall!”

Water has an edge over fire, under both arcane mandalas. I fled the hut as my wall of water, pulled from her bathtub, boiled away, losing cohesion before it even fully formed.

Maybe I should have practiced that spell more.

Behind us, her family hut became a bonfire while she roared.

“She is clearly possessed!” I screamed.

“Lack of possession was not among your listed requirements!” he insisted.

Clothed only in flames, she emerged from the remains of the hut. “You think to make ME submit? ME? You don’t even have the faintest touch of real power!”

“Slumber!” I commanded, as the shaman fell far back.

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOUT YOUR POWER LEVEL? I.. No, this cannot...” she fell to her knees, coughed out black and red flames. “I refuse. I REFUSE! I REFUSE!”

I attempted to put together some Protection Mana, but it fell apart when I dodged a Fire Bolt.

I had no time to see where that landed; she was trying to force herself to her feet and stay there.

Letting her push me toward the shore, I attempted to weave Protection Mana again.

“Oh, you think I’ll give you that time? Whip of Fire!”

I caught the lash around my left forearm, burning away the sleeve instantly.

[You have taken twelve points of fire damage. After defensive ability, eight points of damage have been received. 22/30 health points remain.]

It hurt so much I almost forgot to tug. Almost.

She stumbled forward into the sand. I rushed in, attempting to loop the lash around her neck. Where it touched her hair, it briefly flashed orange before turning to ash.

With a flicker of will, she dispatched her spell.

“Hell’s Elbow!” she called out, jabbing backward toward me. I gripped her arm, and placed a knee in the small of her back, slamming her into the beach.

“Gnaaagh! I’m not done! Fires of hell, fear me and obey my Guraack!”

“Eat sand, bitch!” I screamed.

“I don’t need the incantation! Immolation!”

We both screamed as we burned.

#

Magic, it turns out, even wants to kill demons and devils. In the hells, they treat fire the same way we treat rain. It’s unpleasant, but it doesn’t really hurt them. In mortal form?

Mortal flesh, if the possessing spirit doesn’t take care of it, burns.

I tried to take hold of her hair, and found nothing but raw scalp. She screamed, even as I gripped her head and thrust it toward the ground, breaking her nose.

She started an incantation; I punched her in her kidney. At least, I hoped that was where her kidney was still located.

She pronounced a curse that would have been just awful – if she’d put any power behind it.

She managed to turn to her side and throw sand up at me.

“Do you yield?” I asked, blinking away colored blobs.

“NEVER! You will yield to me! Incinerating Grasp!”

Gods! She was strong, but I had leverage. Where her hands touched sand, it melted.

If I could get this to the shallows, I could drown her into submission. I tried raking a foot across her leg to distract her, and checked.

Over twenty feet away. This wasn’t getting off the sand.

There was a grinding of bones, as she reversed her kneecaps to kick me in the back. She screamed in rage and pain. I slid a leg down to her knees to put a stop to that.

I grabbed a handful of sand, held it near her face. “Pankratios have a saying. It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Submit.”

“You’re bleeding from your mouth. YOU submit... argh! Augh! You bastard! That isn’t even my eye! You’re unable to hurt the real me!”

“I haven’t even begun grinding the sand in. I don’t need to leave you able to see to use you as a translator!”

“To use... YOU LACK VISION! I WILL NEVER SUBMIT TO YOU, YOU IGNORANT CHILD! Fiery Footfalls!”

I didn’t have a whole lot of health left. I put the heel of my hand to her eye and began grinding.

“Auaugh! All right, all right! I yield for now! I’ll go through this farce of a marriage.”

“No, you submit for all time.”

“Forever is too long! Fires of hell... auwgh! Hey, have you ever considered becoming a devil? Skills like that are needed in hell.”

I raked a claw along the line of her jawbone. “For all time!” I repeated.

“For a year and a day!” she spat back.

“Until my fourteenth birthday! Twelve years!”

“Two!”

“Ten, and I’ll leave you your eyes.”

“Four, and I get to corrupt those around you.”

“Choke on sand. I’ll kill you and cast you back into hell!”

“Hahaha, how will you do that?”

“Lucid Dreaming – Black Souled Madonna!”

“You fool! You know the power that demons dream of?” She threw me off, growing to adult proportions.

#

“Behold my true power! All of hell serves me, fears me! I am the bearer of hellfire, and all bow before ME!”

“I shall bear the Blue Flame,” I said, assuming the form of Vashathan. Such as I could remember it. I’m sure I got many of the details wrong.

I looked down upon her, placed a foot around her neck, and hurled her to the sand hard enough to make a small crater. “Foolish demon...”

“Devil..” she choked. “I am a devil, you oaf!”

“Foolish devil.” I said. “I am the spawn of titans. I walk the realm of dreams, and I take the form I please. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness.”

She hurled me off because dream logic. Her form was instantly satyr-like and horned. “Foolish MORTAL! Even here, I have the power of a champion. I AM UNBEATABLE! Nothing you have even impresses me.”

I sent.

“I will break that part of you.” She crooned.

“Little devil. My divisor is over twenty. What’s yours?”

“N-no, that ... that can’t be! She promised.”

“Who promised? Were they also a speaker of truth?”

She broke out in tears. “No. No no nonono...”

“Submit now, and I’ll only make you suffer when you act out against me.”

.....

She fell backward as her legs buckled beneath her. “No. No, you can send me back to hell. You promised.”

“I never promised to send all of you.” I took her wrist in one of my tentacle-hands, lifted it gently above her head, and slowly began twisting.

“Wait! Wait! I agree! But only if you let me fulfil my task.”

Huh? The way the bards sang it, agreeing was just IT for demonic contracts.

“Name it.” I said.

“The hangwoman! The angel! I swore to corrupt her with taint!”

“Agreed. But you will be available to serve and service me as I see fit.”

“Agreed. But you will aid me in my purpose.”

“I will not hinder your purpose.”

“Nor delay it.”

I reached out, grabbed her horn, and forced her face into the sand. “I will delay your purpose when it suits me. But never just out of spite.”

“Name your purpose.”

“I am going to form a trade contract between the Red Tide Empire of Rakkal and such polities of the Isles as will negotiate with us.”

“You serve the Axe?” she raised her head.

“I am Servant of the Axe. You shall serve me.”

“Give me your true name, and I will word it into my oath.”

I backhanded her. “You mistake my youth for idiocy. I know what you can do with my true name. Give me yours.”

She panicked, tried to stand. “Never, never, never, never!”

“Then swear! Loyal service for twelve years, save only when acting on your own quest. I will not forbid or hinder your purpose. You will not attempt to corrupt me, nor any who join me in my quest.”

“Agreed. If I am free to corrupt those who will not.”

I drew a claw across my right palm, angling it beneath the scales. “You are free to corrupt those who oppose my quest, and do with their souls whatever you desire.”

She hesitated three heartbeats, then cut open her own palm. “Agreed. Master.”

We swore the oath over our mingled blood.

#

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