Constellations, some fading and some fresh, traced his skin like scars, all of them ancient and archaic.
A crown of thinning comet-fire hair clung with stubbornness to his skull, and behind his gaunt, sagging cheeks, his eyes flamed with the light of collapsing stars.
Still, Sheba sensed that the being before them was ailing.
His dermis leaked starlight and motes of aurum, as if he were excoriating one molecule at a time.
The entity brought his hands together in a series of slow, mocking claps that echoed across the valley like gunshots, his eyes blazing.
‘Well done, good and faithful son. Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance again and to witness the extent of your power when motivated to save that which you treasure the most.’
His lips, dry and cracked, scarcely parted when he spoke, yet each word caused the earth around them to shake.
Sheba jolted. ‘What’s he talking about? He’syourdad?’
Idan took a deep inhale. ‘He speaks the truth,salkia, but let me get rid of him first before I offer my full explanation.’
A surge of indignation hit Sheba, and she gave her man a shake of her head and a pursing of her mouth. ‘You do that.’
Idan jerked his chin toward her, then, keeping her safe behind him, he turned to address the newcomer in a growl of raw disdain.
‘Behold Sulfiqar,’ he grated, his eyes burning with a cold, internal light. ‘Void-bringer, Unmaker, feckless monster, heartless parasite with a heart of terminal mass in a last burst of extinction.’
The entity smiled, his dried, scaly maw pulling back from rotting gums and stained teeth, in a state of decay and entropy.
‘Always so theatrical, my son. I’ve eons left before I get snuffed out,’ the being scoffed, his utterance a thunderous rumble that was a whisper at the same time. ‘I hold on to my immortality with a vengeance, even though some would like to rip it from me.’
The quiddity turned to a shocked Sheba and gave her a dramatic bow.
‘My dear, a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Sulfiqar, King of the Seven Heavens. The majestic storm god, sovereign ruler of the Divine Immortal. Also, the celestial being who once commanded the greatest Empyrean empire and dictated thetides of war and peace across Sacra. Moreover, the architect of your lover’s lineage.’
‘What thefokkdo you want?’ Idan growled.
‘To let you know that you passed the test, scion of mine,’ the Sacran Patriarch announced, his voice a tidal wave of resonance that echoed through the glade. ‘I designated Tiberius and Ty Si’Rhix as baits to assess your skill set. By defeating them, you proved that you possess the grit to serve me once again and the cold-bloodedness required for the sacred skirmish ahead.’
‘So you mean to say the slaughter at the clinic, the pursuit, the mountain sanctuary, all of it was a crucible? One designed to test my preparedness for a bloody crusade to reclaim the Highest Heaven on Sacra?’ Idan murmured, his spine braced, his sigils pulsing with rage.
‘Naam, and you surpassed my expectations. Your woman, however, was a gift. I wanted you to have someone you cared enough for to fight for. You will torch down the Seventh Elysium to keep her alive,nada?’
Idan snarled at his father, almost lunging at him.
‘My experiment worked,’ Sulfiqar chuckled with maniacal glee. ‘I cast her down, caused her to crash, all so you would save her and fall in love with her. She now gives your life purpose;you have her now to fight for. You WILL wage war for me if she is to live. Find your brother, Molan,’ Sulfiqar commanded, his gaze ignoring Sheba as if she were a mere speck of carbon. ‘The two of you will stand as the vanguard of my return to the highest heaven. Join the crusade, or witness your lovers and family, as well as the galaxy, burn in the wake of my aspiration.’
‘I’m not your weapon, nor your mercenary,’ Idan rasped in defiance. ‘I once bent the knee before you, carrying out venal missions for you and the Sacran guard. I sacrificed years of pain and agony to help you meet your ambition, but no more. I’m done.’
He stepped in front of Sheba, his body a shield of bristling power and flaming sigils against the overwhelming magnitude of his father’s ambition.
‘Now, get thefokkout of here.’
‘Nada, I will not, not until your acquiescence. Perhaps an injury to your woman will motivate you.’
Sulfiqar’s expression hardened into a mask of celestial cold rage.
He raised a hand, the air around him coiling into a necromantic storm of epic proportions.
The sky darkened as wind, clouds, and a storming energy whipped up, preparing to crush Tansinia with the savagery of a god’s tantrum.
As he raised his hand to fling his fury about, Sulfiqar paused, his head jerking to the side as a new, high-frequency noise pierced the atmosphere.
