Chapter 307 - The Divided God part 1

I can move very quickly when I want to, faster than the human eye can follow, actually. Even when traversing a vertical surface.

I climbed down the face of Asharoth, moving as rapidly as I could. I did not want to be seen by anyone, not the mortals of Penthos, nor any of my fellow blood drinkers, for I felt that I was abandoning them. I felt that I was betraying them. I felt that I was being selfish and foolish, that I was endangering them all in order to save my vampire child Ilio and my own mortal descendants. I had started this war against the God King, and now I was abandoning it, but I did not have a choice. I could not let Ilio and the Tanti suffer. I could not let them die if there was a chance that I could save them.

I sprang from the face of the mountain when I neared the bottom, vanishing into the canopy of the wilderness below, and then I swam through the leaves and boughs of the pines and hardwood trees until I came to the river.

There, I dropped lightly to the earth and paused a moment.

I was not tired. My rapid descent from the mountain had not taxed my strength in the least. Not physically, anyway. I merely wished to stop for a moment and take in the sight of the Urals. I was fairly certain it would be the last time I ever saw them.

How silent and grand they were, their peaks capped in snow and hazed by low, misty rafters of cloud. It was so still by the shore of the meandering river. I had moved far enough away from the village of Penthos that I could no longer hear the activities of the mortals who resided there, and all my vampire brethren were still fast asleep in whatever cave or burrow or tent they had claimed for their abodes. I felt a profound peace listening to the chuckling currents of the river, and I wondered how anyone could want anything other than this feeling, this timeless peace. Madness—it was the only thing I could think of to explain man's acquisitiveness, his thirst for war, his need to dominate his brothers and sisters. Madness was the only reason a man would choose conflict over tranquility, pain over pleasure, domination over unity. Well not me! Give me a fine, powerful woman—or a handsome, passionate man—over bloodshed and hatred any day!

"You have no time for this," I said to myself, only I found I was reluctant now to continue.

I was going to Uroboros to surrender to the God King, to sacrifice myself for Ilio and the Tanti. It was a brave and noble thing to do-- yes, yes-- but I will not lie to you. I cannot say that I was not frightened. I had no idea what the God King planned to do to me, not really, but I knew it would hurt, and I knew it would be degrading and depraved, and I was understandably reluctant to hurry to that fate. In fact, I was shaking all over.

Then I called to my thoughts the image of Khronos shoving my son's face into his crotch, grabbing his arm and twisting it until the bones snapped like dry tree branches, and my resolve quickened.

I hardened my heart, put aside my fear, and continued.