Mark of the Fool

Chapter 768: The Death of Purpose

Gabrian kept screaming.

Screaming until his lungs hurt. He screamed until it felt like his throat was bleeding. He screamed until the echoes of his voice felt as though they would drive him to madness.

Over and over, his mind tried to reason, trying to understand what was before him. Trying to deny the body at his feet, trying to pretend he was dreaming, or that there was some mistake.

He could not.

He had dedicated most of his life in the service of Uldar.

A life that spanned many average lifetimes.

One that had endured in unwavering faith.

A life where hed always known that one day, he would bow at the feet of his god.

A lifetime of waiting, only to learn that Uldar was dead.

Stop screaming, you idiot! the Stalker shouted.

His moose pawed the stone, his hoof scraping the ground.

This cannot be! the First Apostle shouted. How can our god be dead? What happened? Did these interlopers murder him?

You're not making any sense! Get a hold of yourself! The fae rushed over and slapped the man across the face.

The First Apostle barely flinched. This must be some lieit must beit must be a lie

Focus! the Stalker snapped. Listen, it won't be long before our quarry finds us! I don't need a wreck, I need a warrior! I need a hound! I picked you to hunt with me because I knew you had skill and a strong will, was I wrong?

The holy man could only sob in reply, looking at the Stalker helplessly, gesturing to the body.

Get a hold of yourself or I'm leaving you here! the fae shouted. If you're going to act like this, I'd be better off on my own! Youve seen a dead bodyan important dead body, but your whingeing and moaning wont bring it back to life! Its just a corpse and an empty chair is all the Stalker paused. His eyes flew wide as though a memory had struck him. when there is an empty chair! So that was the answer to his riddle! By the fae lords!

I the First Apostle sobbed.

A voice spoke in his mind; a familiar presence, renewing contact with him.

Servant of the god of this land, the voice spoke, and Gabrian knew it to be the servant of Uldar that had contacted him before. Have you met with our master? Things have changed, and we must know how to proceed.

The First Apostle trembled.

When he answered, it was both out loud and in his mind.

Hes dead, he whispered, barely breathing.

There was silence.

Who are you talking to? the Stalker demanded, but Gabrian wasnt answering him.

Did you know? he demanded from the one whod spoken in his mind. Did you know he was dead? Was this some trick? Some game to destroy me? Are you even a servant of Uldar? He rose to his feet, shaking in grief and rage. Are you some devil or trickster fae trying to make a fool of me? Is this some demonic game?

The silence continued in his mind.

Then the voice spoke.

The creatoris dead? the servant asked.

Yes, he is dead! Gabrian screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. How long? You must've known: I worked with Ravener-spawn under your orders because I thought you were in communication with our god! Were they really servants of his? Where are they in these halls? Where are you? Who are you?

More silence, and then.

The creator is dead, the voice said the words flatly. Is this a lie?

No, it isnt a lie! Gabrian screamed. I would never lie about something like this! I led my people to their deaths, to their deaths, so they might be embraced by our god! But he is cold, and unmoving. He cannot embrace us. And his planswe were to continue the cycle until such time as he gave leave for it to end. Insteadhe cannot give leave for anything! Are we then trapped in this cycle forever? He is gone! Gone!

He could feel his mind breaking further. How can this be? he howled. All for nothingfor nothing Faces of old friends rose in his mind. ...all of this was for nothing!

The voice spoke in his mind again. You speak the truth. The silence is explained. Protocolsnone exist for this eventnone

Gabrian felt another wave of grief pass over him, quickly realising it was not his own. It was coming from the presence speaking in his mind; it was the grief of a child, mourning the death of its father.

Contact will cease. Consideration must be given, the presence stated.

Wait, what am I to do? Gabrian asked, forgetting his accusations. Tell me what to do!

The creator must be immortalised. Yet the creator is dead. It is unknown. All is unknown.

Contact abruptly stopped.

The First Apostle was just about to shout after the presence.

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Watch out behind you! the Stalker cried, pushing him to the side.

An arrow slammed into Gabrians side, driving a scream of pain from his throat. Had the fae not shoved him, the arrow would have found his heart.

Turning, he looked across the roomtoward a passageway in the walland his eyebrows rose.

A young womana companion of the Foolstood there beside a sharkman he recognised from the battle at Uldars Rise. Between them was the cerberus that had also been there, tensed, sheathed in bone armour, with its three heads lowered, fangs bared, and low growls rumbling from its throats.

Wake up! That's the second time Ive had to save you by pushing you aside, the squat fae screamed, his moose stepping up behind him, growling at the cerberus. Will youShit!

Before he could finish, the huntress loosed arrows at them like rain.

Gabrian was staring at her as though he was a man just waking from a sleep that had lasted months. He lifted his sword mechanically, blocking an arrow coming for his face, yet he did not move though more pierced his gut and chest.

In seconds, five shafts protruded from his torso.

You he whispered. Youyouyou

Get a grip! The Stalker shouted as the sharkman and cerberus stalked forward.

Gabrian gestured to Uldars body, his hand shaking. Another arrow struck. Did you do this? his voice was pleading.

Theresa responded with an arrow to his chest, missing his heart by inches as he turned by reflex, barely flinching. Did you do this? he gasped out again.

Hold on now, everyone stop! the Stalker shouted, holding up his hands. Why don't we all calm down and talk about this a bit! We just came across the body of a dead god, and thats something most dont see everyday, my companions not doing so well! Remember, last time we met, you didn't fare too well in that exchange! Let's figure this all out!

He was a far cry from his usual, confident self; there was a wildness to his eyes and a tightness to his jaw. He kept glancing between Gabrian and the doorway to the stairs.

Without a word, Grimloch sauntered ahead, putting himself between the fae and the stairwell.

The Stalker made a sour face. Well, that's just not very mature.

My sister would agree with you, Grimloch said. Don't care either way.

You should, the fae snarled. We just had a bit of a rough time, but were more than enough to deal with the three of you.

Don't like it when lunch talks so much Grimloch walked toward the stalker, his eyes pits of darkness.

Oh, for the love of He turned back to Gabrian. By the fae lords!

Arrows lay on the floor at the First Apostles feet, deflected from his heart and head by his sword. The rest of the womans arrows were firmly embedded in his flesh.

The huntress barrage had stopped when her quiver was empty.

Do something! the fae snapped. Or say something!

There's no need for words, Theresa growled, dropping her bow. She drew the Twinblade. You hurt people close to meand you tried to kill my dog. She nodded at Uldars body. You'll soon be joining that corpse, I promise.

Her words made Gabrian react more than any of her arrows had. His face had turned red, his mind was a storm, and his grief was quickly giving way to rage.

Corpse? his words squeaked from a strangled throat. You would call our god that?

Our god? Theresa paused, looking at him closely. Our god is dead. Can't you understand that?

No, no, no, no! He will greet me in the after-world! Tears sprang to his eyes, trickling down his face. He is waiting in the after-world, with Izas, Eldinthe othersif he is not He paused. All would have been for nothing. All would've been futile. That cannot be. It is not true. It cannot be true!

At this, the huntress shook her head, watching him, her face grimacing with disgust and pity. It was for nothing, she said grimly. I don't have time to coddle you: how does a person do so much evil for a dead body that didn't even care about you? The decent thing for you to do right now, would be to drop to one knee and let me take your head.

She pointed with one of her swords. You've done too much for me to let you live, but you could at least die with honour. Merzhin saw this body, he despaired, but you know what he did? He did better. He chose to be better, are you going to do the same?

Some deal that is: death or death, the Stalker grumbled, but his eyes were still darting around, looking for a way out. He was tense, as was his moose.

Don't concern you. Grimloch kept his focus on them.

Wheres Alex? the huntress asked. What happened to him? The fact that you're talking about all your dead means he probably devastated you. She smiled. Where is he? Her smile faded. Did you harm him? How did you get here?

Yesthe Fool Gabrian suddenly stiffened. With a single sweep of his sword, he sheared the shafts of every arrow sticking out of his body. Blood ran down his torso, but he hardly noticed; his lifeforce was deep, old and powerful.

A strange light entered his eyes. The Fool lives. His voice dropped to a whisper. He does. He looked at the huntress intently, tears and blood staining his face. His mind roiled with emotion. You speak of death and honour. You speak of letting you take my head. There is one thing that we both agree upon. I do deserve death.

What? the Stalker demanded. What madness is

Silence! Gabrian shouted. The scales of the Chosen burned on his brow. I will speak! He looked at the huntress. I committed a great sin today. I was faced with a choice: a choice to return here to Uldars side, or to pursue the Fool. I chose to pursue the Fool, which was a poor choice. Had I come here, my people would still be alive. We would have seenwhat our god had come to. Together, we would have learned what had befallen him, and decided on our vengeance.

He shook his head. Then we would have taken it, and chosen what to do with ourselves afterward, but no longer can we make those decisions. It was all for nothing: I led my people to their deaths for nothing, and had I chosen differently, they would be alive now. I do not deserve to live for this transgression: I made my decision out of arrogance, and narrowed vision. I deserve to pay for that sin. But

The First Apostle spit on the ground. I will not allow my head to be taken by the enemies of Uldar. I will punish them. He looked at the Stalker. My companion helped us, and I will not allow you to kill him either, nor will I allow the Fool to win. I will dump your lifeless bodies at his feet and watch his despair. Then I will melt into the shadows, and hunt down every last one of your loved ones. Your family, his family, the treacherous Heroesall of them. If Uldar lies dead, I will not allow you to live and smirk at his corpse. After youre dead, and only after youre dead, will I seek death to atone and to join my brethren in the after-world to apologise. But, have no illusions that you will not precede me!

You've lost your mind. Theresa fell into a fighting stance. You're not even half the man Merzhin is.

Perhaps. The First Apostle sobbed. But I am too broken to care. Come, I will rip you to shreds. Stalker, flee from this place when you can!

He muttered a quick word, and his wounds suddenly healed, pushing out the arrow heads. With the cry of an enraged beast, he charged Theresa.

She snarled, going for him with Brutus at her side.

The twin blade swept up, his holy sword swept down.

Metal clashed on metal.

Feeding frenzy! Grimloch shouted, going for the Stalker.

Shit! the fae snapped. Help our hound! After words like that, I'd be no real fae if I just let him get butchered!

The Stalker dove out of the way of Grimlochs swinging maul, as it cracked against stone. His mount charged the cerberus, Brutus turned, going to flank Gabrian.

The creatures antlers attacked his bone armour as three heads whirled in response, jaws snapping. One maw opened, blasting out a cone of deadly sonic energy. The bull moose shrieked.

Theresa and Gabrian were a blur of steel and death.

The First Apostle snarled at her. Now it is my turn! Give up, and I will make your death painless. You and I have clashed before, and you were no match for me

His words were cut off by a gasp.

The huntress left sword slashed his side, leaving twin cuts in his flesh.

He gaped at the wound in surprise. You were able to strike me?

She gave him something that was half-snarl and half-smile. You're missing an arm: no more shitty shield for you to fend me off with. Besides, I've been training for you: I'm not the same fighter you ambushed a few months ago.

With those words, she went for his throat.

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