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

are speaking. I am well aware that even the fates of gods are not always assured.” Aeleostrimine replied.
“Then what of Earth itself? Are you so concerned with the protection of your precious nature that you would so callously ignore that its stoutest protectors were unmercifully neglected by their creator?” The thief goddess knew she may be pressing the issue but her goal was more important to her than any hurt feelings that might result from her words. Unfortunately she’d forgotten also the lady of changes’ propensity to do just that, change.
With an animalistic growl Aeleostrimine took on the form of a Bengal tiger and stared threateningly into the shadows to which Stingara clung.
“Do not presume to tell me how I should feel, sister. Was it not I that convinced the elves and dwarves to aid Krosten in hiding the children that did survive? In doing so the worshipers of the fey pantheon served in planting the seeds for a rejuvenated people to grow.”
Stingara would not back down. “Without more direct interference do you foresee those seeds growing or are they doomed because they are so few?”
“Does that fact warrant the questioning of our mother? Do you not think she has a higher plan of which we are not yet privy? Has your greed blinded you to the glory that is Gaea?” Aeleostrimine roared then turned into the powerful form of a mountain gorilla. The fearie nearby scurried for cover as they sensed their mistress’ growing ire.
Disarmingly Stingara slowly walked out from under the massive willow tree’s shadow and approached Aeleostrimine, all the while smiling demurely.
“You can mask your true appearance, dear sister, but you cannot hide your discontent. There becomes less and less to concern any of us upon Earth. The other pantheons cling to their worshipers like the coveted golden fruit of Yggdrasil. Soon, even they will lose worshipers as the demons gain stronger foothold and deceive and mislead the mortals of Earth. They are too selfish to become directly involved thus their eventual downfall is as assured as our own. What nature will there be to protect when the misguided mortals despoil the lands under demonic influence?”
Aeleostrimine charged her petite sister and in midstride took the massive form of a long extinct tyrannosaurus. With hot breath that reeked of a recent kill the goddess roared in her sister’s face and replied. “There is no escaping change! That is the nature of all things. Before our mother came to awareness there were elder gods and even they with their alien magic and eldritch sorcery could not stave off the change brought on by Gaea! What do you propose we do, rebel against mother Earth herself?”
Stingara had never seen her sister so agitated before but she was undaunted. “What I propose is an agreed position against our mother, not a war. Too many times have I had good reason to do so in the past to only be pushed aside and treated like a miscreant among my own kind.” It was Stingara’s turn to raise her voice this time as ages of being practically ignored by her brethren came to the surface. “I will not be ignored again. If Astnalia does not wish to return the Demonslayers to us then we must stand together and show her she has no choice. Since our creation we have kowtowed to Gaea and served her without question. No longer, say I!”
Stingara instantly calmed though as Aeleostrimine changed her shape to that of a doe. “It is time for a change my sister.” Stingara said. “No one should know that more than you. Our time as servants to the All Mother must change or the end of everything will be the result.” Stingara used Aeleostrimine’s own edict against her. Change was inevitable in all things, even the supremacy of Astnalia.
Shape shifting again to that of a tiny monkey Aeleostrimine leaped suddenly onto Stingara’s shoulder. Quietly she whispered into her dark sister’s ear and gave her final reply.
With a wide grin Stingara unsheathed the obsidian dagger from her wrist and flipped it end over end with satisfaction. She turned her head slightly and gently kissed her sister upon her furry head and then wordlessly disappeared.
After Stingara’s shadow disappeared from the sunlit realm, Aeleostrimine once again changed forms to one she thought would be more appropriate. Where she had once been lounging she suddenly squirmed and wriggled in the unremarkable form of an earthworm.

^ ^ ^

Far across the abyssal layer upon a great glacial tundra beset by drifting snow and frosty winds, stood another tower. This one was covered in the glistening frost of Anghar, god of battle and cold. Within its halls the matters at hand were being carefully considered. In this tower its lord sat in his favored room but Anghar wasn’t merely brooding. He had long dark hair that ended in braids below his waist and a short white beard of pure snow. Battered armor dressed with shaggy pelts adorned his hugely muscled frame and weapons of all types hung from his wide belt. An icy dual bladed axe was frozen to the back plate of his ice blue armor. Grim and stoic were his demeanor and focused was his gaze.
Anghar stared at a polished shield and upon its reflective surface was his main concern still remaining on Earth. Perhaps one of the last true worshipers he could count among the living. He looked on and though he regretted the painful times Darkon had been through he could not help but be satisfied with the results. Every heartbreak, every loss, brought the mortal closer to the pinnacle of Anghar's teachings. The young warrior had much to learn about fighting and leading for he would one day rule what remained of the Demonslayer people but he had gone far in the ways of hardening his heart.
To Anghar this was good. To revive a lost race Darkon would have to be prepared mentally and emotionally. He must learn never to base his reactions on his feelings and rule only by fact and logical reasoning. It was in this way that Anghar was different from all the other gods of war.
Anghar's way was that of the completely calculating warrior, the soldier who never falls to emotions such as fear or pride. The hero who would never mindlessly hurl himself into a hopeless fight. Darkon was becoming one with Anghar's way. Anghar found it fittingly ironic that at Darkon's side stood a proud disciple of Ares. Galen was Darkon's opposite in all manners of fighting though the two were as brothers in every other way. The god of battle was also proud of Graton for he was also a study of Anghar's way. Though it was preached to the elven people through their own fey pantheon it was Anghar who first taught them its usefulness. Indeed it was the seven gods of the Demonslayers who tutored most of the other earthly pantheons. Having been created first by Gaea they were mature in their godhood when the others were just awakening. Thus no few of those once tutored gods often went against the seven, much like when a spoiled child rebelled against their parents. Anghar never became angry for he understood their actions.
Anghar was angry though at his and his fellow’s inaction during the attack on Slayaria but he, better than the others, understood Astnalia’s command. The Demonslayers had been growing too comfortable within the protective bubble of their own reputations. They moved through the countries of Europa feeling that they were beyond the concerns of other men. Often they would enter an isolated village or community and find the inhabitants seeking help but would give none because there was no demonic involvement. They’d forgotten that not only were demons their enemy but so were the many evil races and monsters that harassed all mortals. They did not keep in mind that evil deities often used demonic servants and worked beside demon worshipers and their powerful lords.
All evil should be the focus of a true Demonslayer’s wrath. Still, over time the people had forgotten these important truths. So the All Mother decided to allow this truth to crush what was left of a misguided but well meaning folk. Yes, Anghar was sad but he was still quite optimistic because he knew that with a new beginning his followers would work hard to reestablish their place on Earth and rejoin the battle against evil.
This was the reasoning he used when the goddess of night came to him. He had not turned her down but neither would he support any movement against Gaea. He knew as well that much of Stingara’s anger was due to the fact she had not even one follower left among the surviving Demonslayers. Though he pitied her that, he would not accept her seeming resignation. Where she had seemed to take the loss of her people as if she could never again gain worshippers he was already planning where his next worshippers were going to come from. All the gods knew that more slayers could be brought to them by the drinking from the Flask of Kings. Though the relic had not yet been recovered he was confident it soon would be.
Anghar had also solemnly watched as the elves and dwarves of Earth had declined century after century. He knew there would someday be a time when only humans dwelled upon the world. Already many of those magical folk’s deities had left their people to they’re seeming fates, going to other worlds where their kind were still strong. He’d known these remnants would soon seek other guidance as they sought to leave for another more hospitable place. Just as the goddess Aeleostrimine, lady of change and protector of nature, had foreseen, the elves and other magical folk would one day need a way to leave this world.
Anghar realized that his charges, the Demonslayers, would have to leave as well. Glad he was that the lady of nature had foreseen this time now soon coming. For now he decided he would bring up the need to move his people and also the elves, dwarves and the like at the meeting that was to take place this very day. He would convince his confused and saddened brethren that hope still remained and they should combine their efforts to find a new world for these people and create a way for them to reach it.
Also, beyond any doubt wise Anghar held he knew that any human with an adventurous spirit would flock to Slayaria at the chance to join its fabled ranks as an initiated Demonslayer. As long as full bloods still lived a chance for rebirth lived as well. All these things and more he would convey to his fellows and surely they would rejoice at his words. Gathering the shield he’d attuned to Darkon and his newfound allies he left his frozen halls for a meeting he longed for. To a meeting that would surely decide the fate of the Demonslayer race.


CHAPTER 15
MOTHER MAY I


Running across a large grassy field upon the abyssal plane of Astnalia’s seven, Kabion was on the hunt. As master huntsman and god of luck this was indeed an every day occasion. He hunted