The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📕

is more hospitable to mortals or their spirits than any underworld denizen.
This realm was among the largest and more diverse of the Abyss. Covering enough area to be as large as a continent and with every terrain existing there. The spirits of dead Demonslayers and the few other peoples who also worshiped the children of Astnalia were the ruling denizens of the diverse countrysides. For the entertainment of the Demonslayers many demons have called this forgotten level of the Abyss home as well. Here though they were prey instead of predators.
In the sky a miniature sun rose and fell as on Earth and an ocean surrounded the great expanse. It was said that many Demonslayers never realized they had passed away and they continued on as if they had been brought to their god’s realm by accident. For each of the seven godchildren there was a separate kingdom within the realm. At the center of each kingdom stood an immense monolithic tower. So round its berth could cover a whole earthly countryside and so high no end could be discerned. Clay colored solid stone was their make and the towers were mostly featureless except for a distinguishable mark that represented the resident god. At the bottom of each tower was a thirty foot entranceway that stood doorless. A long cobblestone walkway led from several hundred feet away to the opening and was lined by waving pennants bearing the various sigils of Astnalia’s children.
On most days these walkways were lined with petitioners and newly arrived spirits. Today though was not an average day. No beings lined any of the walkways except one in particular. This one led to the silver highlighted tower of the Demonslayer god of law and vengeance, Halren. In truth this was no organized, calmly waiting line of souls. No, this was a clamoring, belligerent, hostile crowd. Cries rang out from those asking, “Where is the vengeance for a whole people destroyed?” These were the several thousand souls that fought the final battle in the city of Slayaria. They were angry and confused. Why hadn’t their gods protected them? Why had the gods allowed their whole race to be destroyed?
They had been there at the foot of the monolith of Halren for a decade and though they had each been given soothing words to calm them, no true explanation had come. Many of the souls called to Halren for his support since he was the god of law. They felt the one god who kept a steadying hand upon the others to prevent total chaos was the best hope of getting satisfaction. Others merely wanted the lord of vengeance to rain down pain and destruction upon the Demonslayer enemies. None had been given a single hint of an answer.
Within the endless tower, upon a demon bone throne, sat Halren. He was wearing polished, fully plated armor and was sharpening needlessly a huge two handed sword. Surrounded by his servant spirits and chosen souls, those that were special to him in life and were granted powers and responsibilities during death, Halren seemed unaware of the crowd outside. Regal in appearance with long golden hair and a full black beard Halren was the perfect judge. It was his duty to judge all spirit’s places in as much as to whether they would come here to this corner of the Abyss or if they deserved some horrible place to dwell for eternity. He had of course brought every soul from Slayaria here to their final home and after Kleana, the goddess of death and love, had guided them to their respective patrons they had still returned to him for answers. Sadly, he had none.
Even the god of law was subject to the commands of the All Mother and he would never think to question her omniscience. She had, on that fateful day, ordered all of her seven children not to interfere. Thus they could do nothing to save the race that had been their main concern for so long. Yet today was special, for Astnalia had sent her messengers to announce a meeting of the gods. She was supposedly going to explain her actions at that time twelve years ago and was also going to reveal new plans for the Demonslayers.
Halren's chosen started in surprise as their silent lord spoke, “Stop looking at me like that.”
None of them had been looking at him so they were at once about to apologize but another voice echoed from the shadows of the great rounded chamber.
“How can you just sit there and be so patient?” The voice was feminine, sensuous and sweet yet sharp and dry.
Stepping from the shadows was the goddess of thieves and mistress of the night, Stingara.
Short, coal black hair framed a demurely smiling face. Her pale skin was like bright moonlight and her eyes reflected the night sky. Skin tight leathers clung to a lean, athletic figure. Seductively she sauntered toward Halren's throne, which sat in the very center of the chamber. In her right hand she flipped a black obsidian dagger, catching it by its tip perfectly every time. Halren's chosen all bowed, not daring to look upon the queen of night. His servants scrambled about the chamber, avoiding her gaze while moving quickly to remove each of their lord’s most prized possessions from the hall. Stingara observed all this and took great satisfaction that the lord of law recognized even he was not immune to the lady of thieves.
Halren did not look away from his sword when he said, “Gods are supposed to be supremely patient.”
“Only stuffy and boring ones.” Stingara bitingly retorted.
She was always a trifle irritated when Halren acted so single-mindedly and seemed so divinely at ease. “As lord of law you know I cannot usually help but do everything I can to annoy you. Oh, but this day I must abort my instincts and concern myself over more important matters.” She pouted and looked deeply saddened.
Finally Halren looked her way, awaiting her explanation.
“You see Halren, I am angry, angry that all we have worked towards with the Demonslayers has been crushed. I am angry over the fact that at the most pivotal time when our aid was needed, when we were given a chance to show once and for all that we are sovereign and the evil of demons and their kind is but an insect to be swatted away, we were disallowed from fulfilling our entire purpose. That which has been our calling for so many ages.”
This brought fire to Halren's eyes as his thoughts echoed Stingara’s words.
“Halren, I only ask that when the time comes and I speak of my anger and disappointment that you do not so quickly disavow my words and bolster our mother’s position. You must realize Astnalia may have been wrong, nay she was wrong and I for one am not afraid to point that out.” Stingara stopped tossing her dagger and folded her arms over her petite bosom, awaiting Halren's decision.
Complete silence enwrapped the two gods and the chosen servants of Halren as the god of vengeance pondered his next words. Sheathing his massive blade the lord of law and vengeance stood before the lady of thievery and the night.
Quietly he said, “I feel as you do and though I could never doubt your unwavering bravery before a foe, I still must remain uncertain if you would choose to confront our mother.” Stopping her irritated retort with a raised hand he continued with resignation in his voice, “Yet, if you must confront Astnalia then know I will support your words for they echo my own thoughts.”
Stingara was satisfied and stood on her tiptoes then hovered another two feet above the floor and placed a gentle kiss upon Halren's cheek. Before he could complete his next thought she was gone. Gone, he knew, to the next god who might stand against her. Halren knew that by the time the meeting began all seven children of Astnalia would agree on one thing, Astnalia had been wrong in holding back her children.

^ ^ ^

Within another monolith, far from Halren’s own, Aeleostrimine awaited her sister’s arrival. The goddess of nature and change understood her brethren better than they understood themselves and had known long ago that it would come to outright blasphemy on Stingara’s part when Astnalia finally chose to discuss the Demonslayers.
The lady of nature and change was an embodiment of her own station within the ranks of the godchildren. Her form was always shaped in a perfect natural state of whatever creature of nature she desired to be at any given moment. As her mood shifted so did her appearance. One moment she was a human woman, another she was a spotted lioness. Like her title and position among Earth’s deities suggested her shape was ever shifting and always reflected a creature born of Earth.
Surrounding the goddess, a number of fearie and human spirits tended to her every whim. Each virtually glowed with energy and had been the mighty amongst her followers during their life and equally so in death. Whether or not Aeleostrimine was currently within her monolith or not would have been an unanswerable question to any casual onlooker. The sun shined bright in an endless blue sky and a pleasant zephyr weaved its way throughout the endless varieties of trees that surrounded her. A pond full of crystal clear water that teemed with all sorts of multicolored fishes lay at the goddess’ feet and the low grass all around it was lush and softer than any mortal made material ever could be. Aeleostrimine would not abide spending her time inside her monolith away from the creatures she so loved. So, within her tower she created another world entire, one that would be for her own enjoyment alone and occasionally that of a favored worshiper.
Shadows were a scant commodity upon that world and Stingara had been hard pressed to find one through which she could enter the nature goddess’ monolith. When she did so, just as when she entered any of the other monoliths, she was noticed immediately.
“Come my sister,” Aeleostrimine beckoned, she had taken the welcoming form of an aged human druid. “Bathe in the reflected light of the earthly sun. It has been too long since you have visited here.”
It was true Stingara did not visit there often, though it was not due to any dislike she had for her often times fickle sister. As the goddess of darkness, she found it quite uncomfortable to be so exposed under the unforgiving rays of the sun.
“Thank you, but I feel better under this willow.”
Aeleostrimine smiled and asked, “Have you come to convince me to join your campaign against our mother?”
Stingara knew before she came that she would be hard pressed to gain the acceptance or at the very least the allowance of the lady of change.
“I have come to ask you not to interfere at the very least, Aeleostrimine. Astnalia allowed our favored to be destroyed and without a single word of explanation.” Stingara said.
“Indeed, but change was an eventuality even we as gods could not avoid.” Aeleostrimine had her argument well planned out long before the angry thief goddess had arrived.
“To one who has many worshipers beyond the Demonslayers I can see how you can be less troubled, but are you so inconsiderate of your fellows?” Stingara asked accusingly. “Do you not see that through the fall of Slayaria our own fate must now come to question?”
“You forget to whom you