Creative Writing Wednesday: “The Epic Legend of Damien Fell”, Part 11

Posted: September 12, 2012 in The Epic Legend of Damien Fell
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I woke up this morning and felt suddenly, completely sane.

It was a refreshing feeling, let me tell you. I felt as if the massive weight that was holding me down for the last few months, the rambling insanity with only brief moments of lucid clarity, had suddenly lifted. The sky was gray and cloudy outside– which wasn’t surprising: this is Northern California, after all. But that’s the way I like it. I like dim, diffuse light. I’m naturally attracted to the darkness.

I went downstairs, had some toast, watched a couple episodes of Angel. School hasn’t started for me yet, and the rest of the family is off working or going to school, so I was alone.

Time passed. The sky began to clear, and cracks of blue began to show through the gray-white of the cloudy sky.

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” I said to myself.

I headed downtown, passing through residential neighborhoods with narrow one-way streets, the sidewalks shaded by spreading old trees. I passed my old high school, all a-bustle with teenagers. It was lunchtime, and since Santa Cruz High has an open-campus lunch policy, the streets were crowded with Damn Teens™ heading down to lunch. Thinking I might join them, I turned into Erik’s Deli Café, the traditional haunt of high schoolers out for lunch. I went there nearly every week, when I was in high school. The food wasn’t that good, frankly, but I still wanted to sit at the table, and eat a cheap sandwich and drink a root beer, and remember.

“Excuse me?” someone asked. “Are you Ian Johnson?”

I turned to see a teenage girl. Probably a freshman or sophomore: she had that coltish, awkward frame that’s common among young teenage girls, the kind that isn’t done growing into womanhood yet. Even so, she was pretty. Not glamour model, TV-series pretty, but pretty in an ordinary look-at-her-while-bored-in-algebra-class way. She had long, straight strawberry blonde hair, and teal green bands on her braces. (What is it about braces that makes it the mark of adolescence? You never see adults wearing braces, even when they could clearly need it. It’s as much of a signifier of teenagerhood as zits and angry childish tantrums.)

“Yeah,” I said, a little confused. “Why? Do I know you?”

“In a way,” she said, smiling. “My name’s Amber Marconi. I’m here to talk to you about David Felman.”

“David who?”

She sighed, in the kind of exasperated way that only a fifteen-year-old girl can pull off.

You know,” she said. “David Felman. Author of The Epic Legend of Damien Fell.

Suddenly I understood. This girl– Amber Marconi, whoever she was– was the girl that the boy in the gas mask was infatuated with. She was the inspiration for Amberella/Amberlae/Ambaryssa/whatever the princess in the Legend was called nowadays. Somehow I could tell that she was being driven just as crazy by the boy in the gas mask– David Felman, I guess his name was, in the real world. And she needed a way out.

“Let’s talk,” I said.

~ Ian

 

The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 11: The Womb of Shadow and Light

Crandling the still-warm unconcious body of Ambaryssa in his firm, muscular arms, Damien Fell entered the Womb of Shadow and Light with tears of blood running down from his soulless all-black eyes.

“COME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!” he shouted. “THE MAYDEN OF LYGHTE NEEDS HEALING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

As Damien Fells’ eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see farther into the Womb of Shadow and Light. It was a cavern with a cieling easily a thousand feet above the ground, with the far wall easily two thousand feet away. Stalactices like huge snaggly teeth dropped down from the roof of the cave, each one two hundred feet in length, the size of a mighty tree. And far off, on the far wall, eluminated by the light of glowing blue-white lanterns, were two huge statues, silent and beautiful, each one’s head nearly touching the ceiling of the cave. The one on the left was carved of soft golden porous stone, and depicted a beautiful woman with long flowing hair swirling around her face dressed in a beautiful dress, her arms outstretched, flowers in her hair, her feet bare. On the right was a statue carved out of black obsidian, showing a man, but no ordinary man: he was a huge and powerful warrior with a thick beard and armor, wearing a huge broadsword on his back, and with a glare in his eyes that smoldered and burned like a fiery brassiere. Damien Fell recongized them: his previous incarnation and that person’s lover, the former Warrior of Darkmess and Mayden of Lyghte.

From beneath the pedestals of the two statues, two doors opened, and two people came out and came up to Damien Fell. The first one was a dark aelf, who wore swirling black robes and carried a staff of black obsidian, set with a huge ruby the size of Damien Fell’s massive fist. The other one was a matronly human woman with a crown of leaves, wearing robes as soft and white as snow. The dark aelf wore an expression of surpassing grimness, as if he had the world’s largest kidney stone trying to work its way out of his anus. The human woman had a gentle, kind expression, like she was about to take you and bake you into a cookie.

They both bowed when they reached Damien Fell.

“Hail, Warrior of Darkness,” said the Dark Aelf.

“Hail, Mayden of Lygthe,” said the Human Woman.

“Who are you?” cried Damien Fell. “What are you doing in the Womb of Shadow and Light?”

“We are known as the Keepers of Darkness and Lyghte”, said the Dark Aelf. He had a deep booming voice as resonant as the mountains. “We guard the Womb of Shadow and Light from outsiders. As you can see, we do a good job of it. This place as not been disturbed for a hundred thousand years.”

“You’re a hundred thousand years old?” shouted Damien Fell.

“We have always been here,” said the Keeper of Lyghte, the human woman. “We change and configure differently depending on how the Age of the World, but we have always existed.”

“I don’t care about that!!!!!!!!!” Damien Fell said. “Ambaryssa is weakened! She needs healing!”

The Keeper of Darkness nodded gravely. “Of course. If things are to go as planned tonight, we must heal her. Unfortunately the power to heal is not part of the aegis of Darkness. Keeper of Lyghte————— could you manage to do this? I must speak with the Warrior of Darkness.”

“Of course,” said the Keeper of Lyghte. She took Ambaryssa as gently and lightly as a feather, then went throught the door on the other side of the room, which closed behind her as she left.

“This place is very strange to me” Damien Fell said. “And yet it naturally feels like home, somehow.”

“It is home, for you,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “You must understand that the Womb of Shadow and Light is the center of the universe. If Heaven and Hell are the two pieces of bread that make up the sandwich that is the universe, and Evershyria is the meat, then the Womb of Shadow and Light is the mustard. It is what gives the flavor to the whole thing. It permeates the rest of the parts, soaking into the bread and meat. It is the mustard at the middle of everything.

“You use strange metapohrs, Keeper,” Damien Fell said.

“That is true. Yet they are not metaphors. They are the truth.”

“Are you saying to me that Evershyria is a sandwich?” Laughed Damien.

“Can you prove to me that it isn’t?” said the Keeper. Damien Fell looked at his face. It was perfectly serious, with not a hint of mirth. Damien didn’t even know that the Keeper of Shadow was even capable of mirth.

“You seem to be very wise,” said Damien Fell.

“People have said that to me,” the keeper respodned.

“Then tell me, Keeper——– do you know how the universe will end, one day?”

“Manythings are shrouded in mystery, to those who cannot see the future,” said the dark aelf, his stern face stern and faceless. “However, I can see the future. And so nothing is shrouded to me.”

“So tell me,” said Da,ien Fell. What does the future hold?”

“Many things, many things………..” said the Keeper of Darkness. “But it is almost over. The universe is coming to an end, and soon everything will perish……………………………………”

“Tell me. What is my future? What will happen to me and Ambaryssa????”

The dark aelf close dhis eyes, looking into the uncertain future, far away into the darkness. “I can see you and Ambaryssa being happy,” said the Keeper of Darkness and Light. “I see much joy for the both of you………… a little house, by the side of a lake………………… a daughter, who will have hair as red as blood and eyes as blue as the sky, who will equal her mother in beauty, if not surpassing her. She will grow to the age of sixteen at home with you, and you will be happy. At peace.”

“And then……………………………………………….” The Keeper of Darkness paused. “Things will grow dark. There will be chaos flung upon you. I see a day where your blood and Ambaryssa’s will fall onto fresh-fallen snow, and you will die. But with your dying words, your daughter will leave home, seeking her destiny. And thus your daugther will set out on a Quest to find out who she truly is, and when she finds it, she will discover how she will end the world. And then……………………………..” the keeper paused, “……………………………………………………she will bring Evershyria to its end.”

“What happens after that?”

“I cannot say,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “It is as if the future is obscured by crabs. There is nothing but a swirling vortex of nothing. Since the world will end, though, there will be nothing left from the old world————— excpet your daughter, of course, and us. The Keepers of Darkness and Light.”

“This is most troubling”, Damien Fell said.

“This is true,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “But you knew that one day you will die, did you knot?”

“I knew I was one day to die,” said Damien Fell ponderously. “But I HAVE died. Several times, actually. And I always came back.”

“There will come a time when you cannot come back,” said the Keeper of Darkn ess. “But do not fear it. Death comes to all, whether we like it or not.”

“I guess your right………………..” Damien fell murmured.

The Keeper of Light came out of the door at the bottom of her stature. She walked over to Damien Fell and the Keeper of Darness.

“The Mayden of Lyghte is in the healing chamber,” said the Keeper of Lyghte. “She will make a full recovery. That must have been quite some strenouous that you put her through, to make her tired out like that.”

“She’s had a rough past couple of days,” said Damien Fell regretfully. “She was kidnapped by Lord Hateshadowe, taken to the Fiendfang, where he tired to sacrifice her to whatever dark gods he serves. Then I rescued her and took her to Shadouwegaard, where she was nearly raped by an incubus and we fell in love. Finally, last night we fled from a mysterious dark person on the backs of the King of the Griffons, and now we are here, where we must make love for the first time. It’s trying for anyone.”

“You say that this woman only recently had any indication that she is the Mayden of Lyghte?”

“Very recently. Only a few days ago.”

“Hmmmmm………..” the kEeper of Lyghte said. “She must be very powerful. I remember, five universes ago, a Mayden of Lyghte that was kept in a monastery for her whole life, and trained for the exact porpuse of becoming the Mayden of Lyghte. And yet judging from what I read of her mind, Pricness Ambaryssa has surpassed that by an astonishing amount. She is more powerful than nearly anything Ive ever seen.”

“Not true,” said the Keeper of Darkness. “Do you remember that Mayden of Lyghte three thousand, two hundred and seventy-two universes ago? The barbarian girl with the necklace of teeth? She was incredible.”

“Ah, yes<“ the Keeper of Lyghte said. “And the girl five billion, seven hundred and seventeen million, six hundred thousand and twenty-eight universes ago? The green-skinned space captain, who had the fastest spaceship in the galazy?”

“You speak of strange things that I know not what you’re tolking about,” said Damien Fell.

The woman smiled. “For give me, Warrior of Darkness. I forget that you have only the experience of one lifetime, and one universe. I apologize. I understand this must be very confusing for you.”

“That is true,” said Damien Fell. “Buy the way, I’m quite hungry and tired from my jounrey.”

“We have forgotten our hospitailty!!!!!!!” exclaimed the Keeper of Lyghte. “Warrior of Darkness, come. You must eat. You need your stamina for the night to come.”

*****************************************************************************************

Darkness fell over the land of Evershyria once more, cloaking the world in its inky-black darkness.

Everyone in the whole world at the moment the sun set over Evershyria paused, slowly and quietly, for there was a sudden moment of great silence. Something that was both holy, and unholy at the same time, sacred to both Good and Evil. Something that would bring an eternal change to Evershyria, that would somehow altar the fabric of the world permanently, something that would make the land tremble and shake to its very goundations.

The Mayden of Lyghte and the Warrior of Darkness were about to make love for the first time.

In the cavern of the Womb of Shadow and Light, Damien Fell wacthed as Ambaryssa came out of the door underneath the statue. She was clad in a soft, sheer white robe that clung to her skin in all the right places, emphasizing her curves and nooks. She was absolutely beautiful, more beautiful that he’d ever seen her before. She’d been bathed and washed, so her skin was perfectly clean to the point of glowing, soft and golden-pink and perfectly unblemished. She smelled faintly of roses, and fresh fruit, and fine wine, and soap: an intoxicating armoa that made Damien Fell wild with desire. And strangely, it was a natural smell, not like the heavy perfume that women would wear in Karass Mor and the rest of the soft human Kingdoms. Was this her natural smell? Was this what Ambaryssa smelled like all the time? If so, Damien Fell found himself even more attracted to her. Her hair shone golden-red, falling arftully over her delicately pointed half-aelfynn ears. She was utterly gorgeous. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of.

She was his.

As Ambaryssa approached Damien Fell, she smiled shyly. Damien Fell smiled back.

“I have loved many women,” said Damien Fell in awe, “but I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

Ambaryssa smiled, yet there was a kind of nervousness in her smile.

“What’s wrong??” asked Damien Fell.

“I’m frightnend,” whispred Princess Ambaryssa. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never made love before. I remain a virgin.”

“You don;t need to be scared,” said Damien Fell. “I’ll guide you through it.”

Ambaryssa looked up at Damien Fell, and her huge blue eyes were filled with tears. “What if I don’t compare?” she asked. “You have lived for five centuries, my love, and yo’ve loved so many women. Beautiful women, talented women. What if…………. what if when we make love, you will no longer love me? Because of my inexperience? What if I don’t stack up?”

Oh, Ambaryssa,” whispered Fell. “You will always stack up. I could never not love you.”

“Damien………………………….”

And they came together for a kiss.

Their lips touched, and Damien Fell could feel a thrill running through him like nothing he’d ever felt before. He realized that in all his years of existance, from his childhood in the deeps of Hell to his long experience wandering the earth for centyries, that this was all he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever longed for. All he’d ever desired was here in this girl. All he’d ever wanted was to have someone to love him as much as he’d hated himself. All he’d wanted was the perfect woman. And now, he’d found her…………………………………………………………………………………….

There was a sound of slow, dramatic clapping. Damien Fell broke away from the kiss, and turned to face a man who’d entered the Womb of Shadow and Light. A man with short-cut blonde hair, a man who was handsome in a clean-cut kind of way.

A man who had holes where his eyes should be.

I applaud you, Damien Fell, said the man as he applauded Damien Fell. You lead me a merry chase. But now I have returned………………. to claim what is MINE.

“Travyss?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?” ejaculated Ambaryssa. “What are you DOING hear?”

“You know this man????” asked Damioen Fell.

“Of course I know him” cried Ambaryssa. “H’es my fiancee!!!!!!”

“Your fiancee?” cexclaimed Damien Fell.

:He’s the Son of the Kingdom of Rayvenhawke,” said Ambaryssa. “He and I have been betrothed for three years. Travyss……………… what are you doing here? ANd what’s wrong with your voice?

Your father sent me to reclaim what is mine, said Travyss Hawke. He promised me his kingdom.

“That can’t be!” shouted Ambaryssa. “Karass Mor and Rayvenhawke have been rivals for centuries!!”

And yet I will unite them, said Travyss. With our marriage, the kindgoms will be united. I believe I shall call our united country…………… Karassrayvenhawkemor. Does that have a good ring to it? Travyss, king of Karassrayvenhawkemor?

He stretched out his hand, and beckoned Ambaryssa. Now come, my love. I have come to rescue you from your kidnapper. 

“Damien is not my kidnapper!!!!!!!!!!!” cried Ambaryssa. “He’s my lover, and I’m going to have his baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Travyss Hawke laughed. Oh, Ambaryssa……………… how could you be so deluded?????? You must come back now, to those who truly love you. Back to your father. Back to me. And he reached out a hand to grab the princess.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Ambaryssa, and with her magic, she created a bright white tendril of Lyghte that shone silver in the darkness of the Womb of Shadow and Light. The tendril lashed out, like a whip, and stung Travyss on the cheak. A bright red streak of blood appeared on his face.

Travyss glowered gloweringly. I don’t want to have to use force, Ambaryssa……………. he said, and then smiled. Oh, who am I kidding? I LOVE to use force!

He drew his long ancestral sword Rayventallon from its holster on his back. Damien Fell responsed by drawing his pistol and firing six shots straight at Travyss. He moved his sword ina strange arcing whirlwing of steel, and blocked every shot as it flew at him. Shards of lead flew everywhere, the shrapnel from Damien Fell’s attack.

“Looks like I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way” quipped Damien Fell. And he pulled Stormshadow from its sheath, and swung it in a figure eight.

“Ambaryssa!” shouted Damien Fell. “You stay behind me! You’re unarmed. Attack with your magic if i’m in trouble!A”

“Okay!!!!!” replied Ambaryssa.

So the bitch has magic??????????? Travyss Hawke said. Well then………………………………………………….. And he lifted his free arm, and shouted REKCUFEKRAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Immedietly a bolt of Shadouwe burst out of the hand of Travyss and struck Ambaryssa in the heart. She collapsed, not dead, but simply unconcious.

“You!!!!!! You’re the magic user that attacked us two chapters ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” damien Fell said.

I know, said Travyss. Looks like the bitch isn’t the only dog who’s learned a new trick!!!!!!!!!

“That doesn’t matter,” said Damien Fell. “I’ll still kill you just as dead as anyone whose ever died!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

They fell to fighting. Damien Fell didn’t know if Travyss Hawke was a magically enhanced swordfighter, or whether he was simply an expert swordfighter on his own. But he was incredible. EVery move that Damien Fell made, he blocked. Every time Damien Fell tried to press the advantage, his pressure was avoided. Every time Damien Fell sidestepped Travyss Hawke’s defenses and lashed out with a cut that would have decapitated an ordinary man, he seemed to disappear, like smoke, dodging and ducking so that Damien Fell went just inches wide of him, bearly missing.

He was incredible. But Damieb Fell was better.

In fact Damien Fell was the best that ever was.

The legends spoke of Damien Fell. About how he had faced off against an army of a million angels with his companion Jaskarenya the Raven-Haired, and slew the Archangel Ravany’eron with a single blow of his sword. About how he’d been attacked by a hundred thugs in an alleyway while he was drunk, having lost a woman he’d thought he’d loved to an adulterer, and he’d killed them with his bare hands and then pissed on their corpses when he’d finished. About how he’d fought a duel with Altarillo of Maltesa, Evershyria’s best duelist when he’d been a teenager, young and fresh out of hell, and killed the man with his own sword. About how he’d killed giants and ogres and dragons and demons and creatures made out of evershifting mist and giant magically-animated robots and pookas and kitsune and mermaids and orcs and horses and golems and huge mutated rabbits and men, armies of men, more men than could be counted on the fingers of a million men.

For there are a thousand and one stories about Damien Fell, the most unspeakably radical and badass warrior to ever walk the earth in the Age of Blood in Evershyria.

And all of them are true.

With a sudden warcry, Damien Fell launched into a spin attack, throwing Travyss Haewk of his guard, startling him enough to open up a hole in his defenses. Damien Fell took advantage of that whole, and pulled out of his spin attack, feinted left, struck right……………………………………………..

………………………………………………………….and impaled Travyss Hawke through the heart.

Gurk, said Travyss, and died.

Damien Fell unsheathed his sword from Travyss Hawke’s heart and ran to Ambaryssa. “Princess!” he cried. “My love!!!! Can you hear me!!!!!!!”

“She won’t awaken,” said a familiar voice from behind damien Fell.

He turned, startled. “Lord Hateshadowe!!!!!!!!!!!!” he exclaimed.

The blacknailed albino death aelf smiled evilly. “Who else were you expecting?” said Lord Hateshadowe.

“Anyone else!!!!!!” Damien Fell cried. “I killed you!!!!!!”

“And you did a very good job,” said Lord Hateshadowe condesendingly. “But unfortunately, I have to go. I’m taking the Mayden of Lyghte.” He flew straight towards Damien Fell, and passed right through him. “That Travyss Hawke was a useful tool, but he was ultimately just that. A tool.” He picked up Ambaryssa, and waved his arms. A portal appeared out of nothing, swirling and dark. “Do you dare face me in………………………………………………….. THE REALMS OF CHAOS???????????????????????

AND HE STEPPED INTO THE PORTAL, VANISHING.

Damien Fell followed.

*********************************************************************************

The realm of Chaos– the realm that existed outside reality, the realm beyond Evershyria, beyond Heaven and Hell, beyond everything in the universe that made any sense whatsoever, was a strange place even to Damien Fell’s experienced eyes.

It shifted and changed as he watched. It was a realm of roiling color, wild bursts of rainbow insanity, with its colors bursting and mutating and popping as Damien Fell struggled to stay upright. Huge bubbles of bubbling solidity floated everywhere, shining in dark and strange colors: burnt orange and rust and azure and gold, pine green and indigo and teal. The place hurt Damien Fell’s eyes to look at. And far away, in the wall of rippling color that marked the edge of Damien Fell’s vision, were tiny pinholes that he knew to somehow be the size of continents, through which crawled tentacled worms millions of miles long……………………………

It was a realm of madness.

It was chaos.

Damien Fell cast his eyes around, looking for Hateshadowe. Finally he saw him, and realized that Hateshadowe’s dark spirit had been mutated by this insane place, becoming strange and twisted, a weird and uncanny beast that had been changed irevocabbly. Hateshadowe’s spirit had ten eyes, from his albino forehead down to his upper lip, and three mouths. The eyes constantly streamed tears of burning acid that burnt into Hateshadowe’s face, leaving streaks of burning red. One of Hateshadowe’s mouths, the left one was muttering and mumbling the ramblings of a lunatic; the right one was constantly screaming. The middle mouth was silent. Hateshadowe’s arms had been transformed too: he held Ambaryssa’s quivering form in arms like segmented crabclaws, and he had twelve more pairs of arms, which were like tentacles. In contrast to his twenty-six arms, Hateshadowe had no legs. Instead he had a snake’s tail that constantly lashed and rithed. Hateshaowe’s long white hair flowed, as if it was in a wind, but there was no wind. He was also a hundred feet tall, and held Ambaryssa as if she were nothing more than a tiny beautiful doll.

“cOmE fIgHt Me, DaMiEn FeLl!!!!!!!!” exclaimed Lord Hateshadowe. “ClAiM yOuR lOvEr, Or I wIlL uSe HeR tO eNd ThE cYcLe Of DeAtH aNd ReBiRtH tHaT dEfInEs ThE wOrLd!!!!!!!”

“I’d love nothing more, Hateshadowe,” spat Damien Fell. And with those words, he sprouted wings.

They were strange wings, halfway between a bird’s and a bat’s. They were feathered and leathery. They were long and barbed, bueatiful and ugly at the same time. They were the wings of a man who was half-angel, half-demon. They were like no other wings ever.

They were Damien Fell’s wings.

“Let’s do this,” said Damien Fell.

END CHAPTER 11

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