Darkness Rising: Blood Moon

Chapter One: The Cost of War

By Mystoflare and Naoko

Horitamo

The times of the Rialla festivals were always full of excitement and hopeful optimism. Yet, this time, Horitamo was worried. And it wasn’t just the words of the court’s weather-readers and astrologers that unsettled him.

“The last Blood Moon that was seen by mortal eyes,” said a man of the harem, “It was a time of great changes, good and bad. Many hands of folk of every race died, from terrible catastrophes both natural and magical, so many that some of our peoples were on the brink of extinction. The ones who survived these times, they were the ones to whom the gods gave long life and immortality. The ones who died became gods themselves, and watch over us even now. But this time…I feel the Blood Moon is an omen, of many, terrible things to come.”

Perhaps, Horitamo thought, those things would come from True Humans. He himself knew all too well how insensible and violent they were…it was either by chance or fate that he survived that horrible night, twelve years past…

That night, he was five and twelve years of age. As the youngest child of the Queen, even if he was adopted, he was understood to be the heir to all that was hers. Normally, such titles and offices were only bestowed to the youngest daughter, but as the Queen had no girl-children, it went instead to her youngest son, and that was himself.

The Queen, Dayana, was such a beautiful woman. Her blue-green hair was pulled back in pearl-clips, with curls that cascaded over her shoulders. Her red eyes were the color of sparkling rubies, looking out from the turquoise skin of her face. Such coloring recalled her aquatic heritage, as did the fins on her lower arms and legs, and her ears were sharply pointed with scalloped edges, peeking out through her hair. Like most people, she bore six fingers on each hand, and six toes on each foot.

It had been such a beautiful night, too. The Nightsun, the single white moon of the Earth Quadrant, was in the sky, the shadows of unseen stars and objects making all but a sliver of its face invisible to the naked eye. It was the last night of summer, and the cooling air was a wonderful thing to him.

With Dana-hime, as most called her, he was sequestered in a private room that was reserved for formal rites and ceremonies, most of them done by the ruling family. The Rite of Passing completed, she bade him to rise.

“You have come in as Horitamo-kun, the adopted son of the Queen,” she said solemnly, “Now, you leave as Horitamo-ouji, the Crown Prince and Heir of the Queen of Ardhann-Shyoko, and all that comes with it.”

The ceremonial crown she put on him was a relatively simple affair. An old diadem of silver, about a hand high, outlined and backed with beaten gold. A string of uneven pearls hung down in front, a large diamond suspended from the chain that hung directly in the center of his forehead.

“You have a great responsibility before you, Horitamo, and a great destiny,” she said, with a smile, “Pandala bless you, and may the Circle of the Six safeguard you on your life-journey.” With that, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

That had been the last time he saw her beautiful smile. He doubted if he would ever see it again.

“DANA-HIME!”

Both of them spun around at the shout from the guard at the door. It was one of the only two ways in or out of the room, both for privacy and safety.

“True Humans have breached the defensive walls, all three of them, from different areas! We have to escape, my Queen!”

“Hai! And call out the wardancers and other reinforcements, tell them to hold them off as long as possible!” Dana-hime ordered him.

The guard barely had time to let out of a blood-curdling scream, blood spilling from his slack jaw, before he fell into the room face-down, a spear sticking out of his back where it punched a hole through his chain-mail and armor.

Behind the guard, two large men with noticeable deformities stood, along with a woman Dayana and Horitamo recognized all too well.

“Aresanjura!” Dana-hime hissed through her teeth. The woman in question smiled as she dropped a large piece of rubble on the dead guard, crushing his head and upper body in.

“A rich reward awaits the one who can kill the boy,” Aresanjura said, “A bonus if you kill the Queen, and dispose of both bodies.”

“Aresanjura!” Dana-hime gasped in disbelief, “How could you? The Matron leader of the Matriarchy! I know you dislike us, but this is going too far! Why?” Horitamo was being held close to her, in a protective gesture.

Aresanjura laughed, a harsh croaking sound like the death rattle from a blood-choked throat. “You are foolish, ‘Queen’. I was never one of you heathens, and God help me, I never will be.”

Dayana hissed very low while her ears folded back, giving her a resemblance to a particularly angered feline. Aresanjura just laughed, again.

The woman then reached up to her ears, tearing away the tips. Under the rubber pieces, her ears were round and slightly red. Then, she grabbed the sixth finger of each hand and pulled them off. Beneath the rubber and steel wires, her hands were disproportionately large and five-fingered. Her wrists were far too small for her hands, which would have made the casual observer wonder how she could use them at all.

The Queen gasped softly in shock as understanding dawned on her. Five fingers weren’t too unusual, for some crossbreeds possessed those, but no Gandahrahn possessed round ears.

“A True Human,” she hissed, “And no doubt, you murdered the real Aresanjura. Though how you took her place for so long…”

“You’re too smart for your own good, heathen,” said the false Aresanjura, “For that alone, you’ll get to see your heir broken and killed.”

“Alexandra Unmen,” one of the men said to the woman, “Keep in mind, we’ll do much worse to you if you kill the boy before we can give him God’s punishment.”

“Yes, yes, Grandfather Thomas,” the woman, Alexandra, said to him offhandedly, “You’ll have your fun with the boy.” She drew a sword at her side, a grotesque relic with the skull of a Gandahrahn in place of a pommel, and bone ornamentation on the hilt.

As Alexandra leapt toward Horitamo, Dayana shoved him behind her, extending her arms like a pair of wings as she attempted to shield her adopted son from the True Human woman. Just before Alexandra reached them, two pairs of hands grabbed Horitamo and pulled him away, just in time to see the Queen’s death.

“OKAASAN!”

Horitamo couldn’t help screaming as he was forced to watch Alexandra plunge her sword into Dayana’s heart, the point protruding from the Queen’s back before being withdrawn. Before the Queen’s body fell to the floor, Alexandra plunged the sword into the dying woman’s belly, and sliced her open.

“Now, do what you like with the boy. Grandfather Thomas, Father Hippocrates,” Alexandra smirked at the boy and his captors.

Horitamo screamed as his robes were torn from his shoulders, and grotesque hands started to reach for places they had no right to be. The pain of being forced to watch his mother die before his very eyes, together with knowing what brutal humiliations the True Humans were capable of doing to him, was all too much to bear.

Another scream tore itself from his throat, and the world went white. Whether it was for only a brief moment, or an eternity, he couldn’t tell.

When awareness returned to the young prince, he saw the room was in ruins, as if by an explosion from within. The woman, Alexandra, was nowhere to be seen, but his sharp ears could pick up the screams of the two men. As he peered through the ruins towards the sky, Horitamo could see the two fat, deformed bodies falling to the earth, apparently having been hurled out into the sky by some force he wasn’t yet aware of.

It was just as well, he thought bitterly.

Staggering to his feet with effort, he reached the butchered body of Dayana, gently lifting her slightly as he held her close to his chest, and tears began to flow down his cheeks. Though he was now the Crown Prince, he was also an orphan, forced to watch the murder of the only mother he’d ever known at the hands of strangers.

“Dana-hime…Okaasan…” he whispered, cradling the cold body of the Queen to him as he mourned her loss and lost himself to his grief.

Eventually, he was aware of gentle arms making him release the Queen’s body to court members who arrived to see what had happened. Among them were the Queen’s harem, her three husbands and two wives, several of whom screamed and burst into tears as they watched Dana-hime’s body being carried out of the room.

“Horitamo-kun…gomen, gomen nasai,” Yolantha, the record-keeper, said to him, “We all know how much Dana-hime meant to you…she meant so much to all of us.” She hugged the Prince close to her, letting him cry as he would as she wrapped him in her cloak of swine-thing skins. Eventually, he regained the strength to speak, and raised his bloodstained hands up, fingers curled like claws, as he looked at them.

“I’ll make them pay…I’ll make them all pay for what they’re done,” he choked out, “I promised her…I promised Dana-hime I would, and by the gods, I will. Why did they do it, Yolantha? Why?”

“Horitamo-kun…”

“They never wanted to be here, and we never wanted them here. Not the True Humans, never them. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? We’ve never done anything to them, and they do nothing but rape and pillage and murder.”

It had been that fateful night that he discovered the brutality of the people who made themselves the enemy of all Gandahrah. And it was then that he realized he would have to be as ruthless as his enemies, but to what extent, he had yet to find out.

Lucifer

“I ask you again, ‘Father’ Johan Caliph Medici, how did your people manage to change that woman enough that she could pass among us undetected?”

“You may know my name, demon,” the man on the ground growled at his captors, “But you’ll get no answer from me, even if you kill me!”

“I know far more than that, ‘Father’,” the winged man said, “I know how you’ve turned your own sons into mindless slaves with no will of their own. I know how you’ve murdered the mothers of your children, forced yourself onto your sons to break them, and even sired children on your own offspring. I especially know how you’ve personally brutalized thousands of Humans who are not True Humans, especially when most of those people were from my kingdom.”

Johan just scowled at the figure, half-shrouded in shadows. Lucifer’s silver hair and light brown skin managed to confound the eyes and unsettle the mind, being both more and less visible in the darkness. A sound came from the back of Johan’s throat, and he raised his head, spitting into the face of the Prince of Hell.

Lucifer’s fuchsia-silver eyes sparked with a dangerous feral gleam as his winged folded and his fingers curled into claws, yet he made no move to strike the man at his feet, yet.

His companions, however, were less inclined to inaction.

Off to the side, several demons growled or chuckled, one lashing his feline tail and looking at the True Human as a hungry man looked at a succulent streak, the second, with long hair and red stripes on his face, gazed over Johan thoughtfully, and a third, who looked almost human-like, swayed sensuously, as if attempting to seduce the prisoner with the promise of forbidden delights. Sitting in a seat slightly behind Lucifer, a redheaded woman with regal, yet decidedly shameless clothes snorted and smirked, muttering something to herself. Behind the man on the floor, a brown-skinned hand lashed out and struck the chained man on the back of the head with considerable force, nearly sending him face-first into the ground.

“You’re fortunate Lucifer wants you in good enough condition to speak, True Human,” the female demon said, “Otherwise, I’d personally make you into the next meal, if you were even edible, that is.”

“Calm down, Fianna,” Lucifer waved her down. Flicking off the slime from his cheek, he reached down to grab Johan by the chin and forced the man to his feet. He chuckled softly as he looked him over.

Apparently, Johan had once been a high-ranking official or something similar to that, among his race. Now, the Church Father was a prisoner, his robes, loose pants and long-sleeved shirt of royal purple in tatters and smudged with dirt. One sleeve was missing, and his left arm was laced with self-inflicted scars, evidence of his many attempts to bleed himself to death.

His blond hair, several shades darker than ash-blond, was once cut short so that no lock of hair was longer than his thumb. Time in Hell and the attentions of Lucifer and his wife had resulted in his hair growing out messily, somewhat unevenly, but now, the shortest lock of hair either brushed his cheekbones or rested over his shoulder. His eyes, now slightly obscured by his hair, retained their light blue color, but now shone with a light that his people believed was a sign of demonic possession and madness, though it was the same light that Gandahrahn people had.

“I’ve been kind to you, Johan. Simply tell me what I want to know, and I will let you go back to your people, unmolested,” Lucifer said to him.

Johan seemed to consider something for a moment, before he nodded curtly. Lucifer smiled as he asked his questions.

“This child you say that Morrisdaughter Alexandra carries…it is not really a child of your God, is it? Then whose is it?”

“The Unman’s child,” Johan started, “is really Father Lazarus’s. But as far as the people know, it is the child of God. If she bears a son, she will be allowed to live even if she fails. If it’s an Unman, she and the thing will be slain. After all, God decreed that the only purpose of the Unmen is to bear sons.”

“Good boy,” Lucifer said patronizingly, ignoring the woman behind him who he could sense was about to flare up, “Now, tell me, how did you make this woman so much like us that she could blend in with no one the wiser?”

“I will not tell you, Lord of the Damned!” Johan spat at him, “I would die before I disclose any such secrets of the Church! Especially when God has given me protection against your vile demon magic!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him.

“If your ‘God’ has given you protection and power as you’ve ranted for the last two hands of days, then prove it,” he challenged the man, “Call down fire and brimstone on me and mine, if you can. Or shall I torture you further to see when ‘He’ will come to your aid?”

“You would not dare, even if you are the Lord of Hell,” Johan said, “After all, you are a creation of God, and God will not let such a thing happen to me unless I have committed a grave sin against Him.”

“I am no one’s creation, save for those who gave me physical life!” Lucifer snarled at him, roughly pulling the man’s hair and snapping his head back. Looking into the eyes of the smaller man, Lucifer suddenly smirked, an expression that would have been considered wicked and disturbing even to native Gandahrahns who knew him, never mind True Humans.

“Fianna,” he said to the brown-skinned woman, “Perhaps I shall indeed torture him…I feel I need to work off some aggression, and that way, also, some answers might be forthcoming.” The unicorn-horned demon woman giggled, like a child getting into mischief.

“Of course, I’ll be helping,” the woman behind Lucifer declared, rising to her feet. She sent Johan a smirk.

“Naturally,” Lucifer agreed, nodding to his wife.

“And I take it we can watch, should we wish, Lucifer-dono, Natsuko-sama?” she asked, her six fingers at her mouth to try and conceal her chuckling.

“Of course.”

Noticing the glowing gold gaze of the oukami woman, the True Human shuffled his feet in a gesture of uneasiness, but didn’t break his defiant gaze with Lucifer. A moment later, he spoke up with a definite edge of stupid bravery in his voice.

“While I do not care about you and yours, Lord of the Damned, I’m driven by God to ask…what interest do you have in finding out about us? You know we will destroy you, and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”

“Perhaps there may indeed be no way to stop you, but I rather doubt that, Johan,” Lucifer said, turning to his prisoner, “But, while it is little concern or use to you, I will tell you.

“Recall, if you are indeed capable of doing so, a night of great chaos and clamor, barely eight and twelve nights and days ago. The night you and your brethren attacked us without cause, the night you were taken prisoner to live out the rest of your miserable existence here.

“That night, after the battle, I had learned that many dozens of your bloodthirsty folk were murdered or put out of their misery, and for every one of my people who were slaughtered, ten dozen of your folk when with them. After that terrible battle, I sought out my comrades and kin, only to find that my wife and my youngest son were missing. And I do not put it beyond you and yours to have taken them prisoner. Tell me, did you see any of your wretched kin and kind take with them a woman with the eyes of a cat, and a boy with the ears of a cat and the wings of a crow?”

Johan laughed loudly, hurling spittle into the faces of those nearest him before he again made a sound in his throat and spat into Lucifer’s face, several times, now. When he saw that had done nothing to get a reaction from the Lord of Hell, he then composed himself, despite a smirk marring his attempt at maintaining a stoic expression.

“Indeed, I have, Damned One,” Johan said, his smirk growing into a malicious smile, “The woman was stupid enough to fall asleep in an open field, with a little boy who resembled the offspring of an Unman and a beast next to her. Three legions were sent to take them prisoner, and the woman is perhaps even now suffering as you will suffer when the End of Days comes.”

A feral snarl tore itself from Lucifer’s throat, his eyes flashing with white fire while faint markings on his face darkened to midnight blackness. Faster than the human eye could see, he pulled back an arm and struck the True Human man with a loud cracking sound, sending him reeling. Standing up to his full height, Lucifer’s eyes flashed again as he turned to Fianna, the female demon who had earlier manhandled Johan, and Natsuko and spoke to them.

“Fianna, Natsuko!” Lucifer half-snarled, “Come with me, we will speak privately.” Turning to the other demons, the three of whom had been watching, he called them to his side.

“Arisai, Nurreal, Flauros! Have him brought to my chambers, and chained to that contraption from the ceiling. If it would please you, take him. If he’s still conscious when you’re done with him, decorate his skin, and surprise me. I have things to discuss with Fianna.”

The trio of youkai laughed and chortled as they pulled up the True Human man to his feet, yanking harshly on the chain linked to a collar around his neck as they led him off, herding him like a cow. Lucifer watched the four of them disappear down a dim, black hallway before he turned to the other two. Sympathetically, Natsuko placed her hand on his arm. He placed his own hand over hers, and began to walk. No spoken word passed between them before they silently left the main hall, stopping only when they reached a balcony that overlooked the nearby forests.

“Your Highnesses,” Fianna began, “I know how you must be feeling about this…your second mate and your youngest son are missing, and True Humans are the primary suspects in the matter. But might they have escaped, or been aided by gypsies or nomads?”

“I’m certain that is the case, Fianna,” Lucifer nodded in agreement, “I feel, in my heart, that they are still alive. But they are not the only ones who are missing, with risk to their lives, in this.”

“My Lord?” Fianna blinked gold cat-eyes in curiosity, “Of what do you speak?”

“Remember Minako, the woman born to a miko who was assaulted by a True Human?”

“Minako…ah, hai, the half-breed miko…she is Kenjo-sama’s mother and beloved of the dragon’s dream god Toku, isn’t she?”

Lucifer had to admit; she knew details about things that surprised even him, if he wondered how she came to possess such knowledge. Shaking his head to himself, he nodded.

“Hai, and my second mother,” he said, “If half of what I’ve heard is true, she too was captured by True Humans. What they would do with her, I shudder to even consider. That’s why we must find out if they have them, and if so, where they are. Time is literally of the essence.”

“Hai, Lucifer-dono!”

“Fianna, after you see to that True Human in my chambers, I want you to look for Shinurah. Tell her to watch out for any caravans of True Humans that pass through the desert. And if you should find out anything else, you’ll notify me immediately.”

“Of course, Lucifer-dono.” With that, Fianna turned to go.

As he stood outside lost in his own thoughts (Natsuko was silent, realizing what her husband needed at the moment), a part of his mind that was still watching his surroundings noticed that it began to darken. But the Meikarinai didn’t seem to be darkening with blackness; rather, it seemed to be taking on a red tint to the eyes. Lucifer looked up with a sense of dread, gripping Natsuko to him.

It was just as he had feared. The five suns were eclipsed by five of the moons; the resulting blend of colors turned the sky a deep, dark crimson, and the moons, all nine, were glowing orbs the color of blood.

So…it has begun. The Blood Moon is upon us.

“Lucifer-dono!”

Lucifer spun around to see his friend racing towards out, her rainbow-colored gossamer wings beating frantically, and a part of him thought they might well fall off her back. When she landed next to him, stumbling slightly, she was panting with the exertion, and Lucifer was again alarmed. Little got Fianna excited or made her frantic.

“Lucifer-dono…”

“Fianna, what is it?” Lucifer asked her with concern. While there was little that could, potentially, escape his attention, or that of any other Gandahrahn, for that matter, there were some things that Fianna was the first to get even an inkling of.

“The True Humans are acting strangely. They seem to be planning to attack the Earth Quadrant, the Four Nations, specifically,” Fianna said.

“What? They’re insane!” Natsuko put in quickly.

Fianna disregarded the comment, continuing. “They’re ranting that a ‘demon-spawned darkness’ is whittling down their numbers, and they’re convinced that the Four Nations are responsible. They’re planning an invasion, planning to start a war!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Lucifer answered her frantic nervousness with a calm face and clear defiance of the odds against them. “Get your traveling gear packed, Fianna. We’re going to the Earth Quadrant.”

Gods and Goddesses

“A very interesting time this will be, I think. For even Lucifer realizes that something is amiss during this time of the Blood Moon.”

“As well he should, for he is my son, after all,” Toku smiled, despite his half-transparent state, at the goddess sitting at the opposite side of the table. They and most of the other gods were gathered for no particular reason around the old ivory table, which was nothing unusual in itself.

Kanzeon Bosatsu returned the expression of the dragon god with her own smirk.

“And he is my grandson, as well,” she added. The pair shared a brief smile before another voice broke the peaceful mood.

“What should be of greater concern is that the current, and, I might add, rightful, ruler of Ardhann-Shyoko has yet to suspect the challenges that await him,” Inari spoke up, “ After all, it will ultimately be on him that, for the time being, our very survival, and Gandahrah’s, will rest.”

“Horitamo will succeed where many of us can not intervene,” Fate interjected, “Or he will prove that, even on the mortal plane, we can do nothing, regardless.”

“Is it fate for him to succeed, then, or to fail, and ensure that everything of our world will fall into oblivion?” Fate could only shrug at the nine-tailed youko god.

“I know only the patterns of fate and destiny, not their every thread. After all…there is that thing which is called ‘free will’. And free will can change everything.”

“And by that same token, if he decides out of ‘free will’ to do nothing, we, and everything we have made, will disappear forever!”

The assembled gods and goddesses turned in surprise to the pair of glowing red eyes in the shadows. Gradually, the shadow to which the eyes belonged detached himself from the black mass at the edge of the room, and remained near the fringes of the group. Sauoh crossed his arms and scowled up at the taller form of the silver-eared Inari, who smirked back.

“How adorable, you actually care about the rest of the world, Sauoh-kun.”

“Urusei.”

A feminine voice cleared her throat before speaking.

“Since you two are both so concerned about the goings-on of the Earth Quadrant, and possess the power to stay in corporeal form for extended periods of time, I suggest that you go, to watch over Horitamo. Besides, unlike the rest of us, you two would have an excuse, as the joint rulers of one of the Four Nations.”

Everyone knew not to question Pandala. As the patron goddess of Ardhann-Shyoko, she seemed to know what was best for the people of that particular country. However, she also seemed to have a bit of Kanzeon Bosatsu’s bizarre sense of humor, at times. Some of the gods were never sure if she was acting in the interest of the country, or out of some unusual sense of boredom.

“I may well take you up on that challenge, Pandala,” Inari smirked. Turning to the rest of his fellow deities, he raised his voice to speak.

“These events will best be played out when few of us directly involve ourselves in them. Therefore…I suggest that myself, Sauoh and Pandala go to intervene, if necessary, in the affairs of the Earth Quadrant.”

“I’d only go to make certain that you don’t get yourself killed, Inari,” Sauoh growled at his friend, “After all, that is something you’ve proven to be all too capable of!”

The silver youko god simply laughed at his friend, while Pandala shook her head, and Kanzeon Bosatsu chuckled. Another of the dragon gods, Kenjo, spoke up.

“This might be little more than a game to you, Inari, Sauoh,” he said, his voice deep in a manner that left no doubt as to his gender, “But some of us have something at stake in all this. Don’t forget that.”

“Hai, hai, Kenjo-san!” Inari smiled good-naturedly, “After all, it is hard to forget something like that when you’re part of something like the Circle of Six.”

“We shall see about that.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kenjo-san,” Pandala said, a faint hint of a smile in her voice, “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything too bad.”

Before any of them could answer, Pandala, Inari and Sauoh were surrounded by a ring of blue flame, and disappeared from the Crown of the World to enter the mortal plane.

Kanzeon blinked at the space they had occupied, before turning to her fellow deities. “Well,” she said, “While we are waiting for news of their activities, perhaps we shall take our minds off of things with a simple board game? Kenjo-san, I’m sure you can think of something.”

Kenjo nodded silently, and with a wave of his hand, a board and all its pieces materialized on the table between them. “I believe this time, it is your turn to start, Kanzeon.”

The goddess in question smiled and picked up her first game piece. After a moment of thought, with the tile piece tapping her lower lip, she chose her first move and placed the tile down on the board. The other deities who were watching leaned forward slightly to see what she chose as her first move.

“Journey to the West. Journey to the extreme.”

Alexandra Morrisdaughter

Alexandra hated this day, everything about it, even if she never showed it.

The strange green sun of the world was high in the sky, making the sky outside a blue-green color that she believed was evil. Even if the other Church Family members said it was beautiful, she found it repulsive, compared to the yellowish sun and blue sky of the world she was born in. That world, they had left thousands of years ago, but thanks to their technology, they survived the passage of time in suspended animation.

Alexandra shifted as she made her way out of her room and down the hall. Her attire, typical for one of the Unmen, left little to the imagination. There was a belt to hold her sword and tools, and certainly something to support her bosom, but otherwise, it really offered no protection from blades, bullets or more natural threats from the men.

Still, she didn’t complain. It did no good to complain way back when, so no one complained now. After all, why bother, if it wouldn’t change a thing? If anything, complaining would only get her killed, too. And she had something aside from herself to think about, for once.

“Daughter Alexandra?”

Alexandra turned to find herself face to face with Father Lazarus. The man who had…initiated her, and given her God’s child through his own body. While she hated him with a passion for what he did to her, there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she could do something to Father Lazarus, she wanted to rid herself of the parasite within her, and God would destroy her very soul if she murdered His unborn child.

“Yes, Father Lazarus?”

“It’s time for you to be going. You’ve been chosen to lead the expedition to the coastal towns of the heathens’ country, the one they refer to as ‘Ard-han-sho-ko’,” he said, “Also, I have to fit you with protection, as we don’t want to risk losing God’s child to black heathen magics. No doubt, they can use magic to take the child’s soul and kill you, regardless of whether or not it comes from their gods.”

Alexandra nodded as Father Lazarus circled her, fitting her attire and body with crucifixes, silver, iron and wrappings of scripture. Some of them would be inaccessible even to her, and extremely uncomfortable, but necessary, she told herself. At least, she thought she believed it. She had to.

The ships were well built, as far as she could tell. They were large, the size of giant elephants used in labor camps, which were the same size as twenty-story buildings. They had been built with hard wood and metals, and armed with thousands of weapons that were capable of firing burning materials that would cook a heathen from the inside out from miles away.

Alexandra stood at the helm of the ship, by herself. Even if she was appointed the leader of the war party by the Church, she was still one of the Unmen, and no Human kept company with them if they could help it. She would protest, but what use was it?

“Daughter Alexandra, we should reach the coastal towns of the heathens by midnight tonight. We’re fully armed, and protected against heathen magics. If all goes well, and God does not test us, we will have one-fourth of this entire world under our control within a year.”

“Thank you, Grandfather Kenneth.”

Grandfather Kenneth nodded from his makeshift desk. It was made from the broken bodies of the ship’s late heathen crew, a grotesque construct of flesh and bones. Maps were draped over faces frozen in death screams and limbs bent at odd angels. No doubt, Alexandra thought, it was the purpose for which God created the heathens. After all, if they didn’t follow God, they were nothing.

She looked out toward the horizon, where she could see a faint outline of the coasts. At the speed they were going, using natural muscle power, they would get there that night. They didn’t use the magic the heathens used, the black magic that moved the ship without any visible means. That was Devil’s work, not God’s, and good people didn’t use that.

A scream from the crew made Alexandra turn. Father Lazarus had struck one of the Unmen from her seat and paddle; she had paused out of exhaustion.

The Unman was on the floor, now. Before she could rise, Father Lazarus kicked her with his steel-toed boot, breaking several ribs, before he kicked her again, this time, sending her over the side of the ship.

There was a bump that jostled everyone on board, and a grinding sound from under the boat. Alexandra looked back to see the water being stained red, with pieces of limbs and bones floating to the surface.

She deserved it. Food for the devil-world sharks.

Still, her hand came up to her stomach protectively. If she failed, she would die. If she bore a daughter, she would die. Only her state of pregnancy kept her alive now, and only by bearing a son, would she survive.

“My son,” she said, “You will inherit this world, when we make it a world of God, and make it the Eden it can be.”

At least, she believed it. She had to. There was nothing else to do. Or so she thought.