When Old Gods Rest: The Demonic Compendium, #3

By David Viergutz

Stonehaven, the once-prized seat of the kingdom of Duska is a pile of rubble and Queen Avana Ostra is to blame.

 

Nearly everyone she trusted is dead; some by her own hand. Weary and exhausted, her body resembles that of a monster. Without order and the loss of the crown, chaos is the new norm.

 

But Avana has a plan.

 

To the east of her beloved kingdom is the land of Kogresh, home to a mystical healer who may have the answers she needs.

 

Hunted, alone, and broken, Avana is once again thrust into an epic quest to rid herself of her demonic companion, clear her name, and bring her kingdom up from ruin.

 

When Old Gods Rest is the final installment and close to The Demonic Compendium Series. No stone will be left unturned. No question left unanswered. The Book must be sated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Viergutz
• Release date: Oct 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223174363

David Viergutz

Disabled Army Veteran, Law Enforcement Veteran, husband and super dad by nature. David Viergutz is the author of several novels and short stories from every flavor of horror. Take the plunge into David’s imagination as he delivers chill-bringing adventures where the good guy doesn’t always win. David remembers dragging a backpack full of books to class beginning in middle school and leaving his textbooks behind. David takes his inspiration from the greats and fell in love with complex universes from the desks of Nix, Tolkien, King, Stroud and Lovecraft to name a few. David's imagination, combined with his experience in uniform give his books an edge when it comes to the spooky and unnerving. One day, David’s wife sat him down and gave him the confidence to start putting his imagination on paper. From then on out David’s creativity has no longer been stifled by self-doubt and he continues to write with a smile on his face in a dark, candle-lit room.

Book preview

Lands of The Demonic Compendium

CHAPTER ONE

Avana leapt from the precipice, veiny bat-like wings snapping open and catching the wind. Air roaring by her ears, she glided down from the last remaining peak amongst the ruins. The castle was sundered in two, the crack traceable starting from the courtyard and running up the main walkway to the overlook. The large viewing mirrors that once adorned the landing lay strewn about like great puzzles of broken glass. Piles of rubble pockmarked the courtyard below, and the buzzards had begun to circle.

The fortress was in chaos. Fires raged and people ran about in a blind panic. Some yelled or cried. Others fell into a deep state of despair, their faces reflecting terror upon seeing the destruction. Plumes of smoke melded with the gathering storm and the shared tension thickened the air.

It had barely been six months since the civil war and Duska was once again assaulted by something otherworldly. A monster of legends, the Hish, rose from the ground with the help of the traitor Daemond and summoned an army of dark, faceless soldiers. Then it pulled on great chains buried beneath the city, attempting to awaken a God, imprisoned from before the advent of time.

Things were different now. Not better, just different. And If it wasn’t for Avana, the Old God would have escaped its prison and destroyed reality itself, aiming to recreate everything in its image. It was a violent battle, resulting in the death of Princess Beggen Ostra and many others who truly cared about the Kingdom. It was a battle hard-won, and with costs not visible to the eye. Costs that Avana was all too familiar with.

The spell to imprison the Old God had a cost that was more than blood and body. It had cost her very soul, and now, she resembled something she despised. Something others feared. She was forever marked by massive wings, rippling red fur and black pinpoint eyes and she was more demon than human. Inside, she felt it too. Pemazu and the ancient deity Mephuzelahstelion now inhabited her body, and there was no room for her to feel anything. She was empty, yet a vessel for two prime evils at the same time. They were the Firsts, and she had no way to rid herself of them.

Avana landed hard on the dirt, her boots having been shredded by large flat scaled feet with razor claws and three individual toes. The talons clicked on the flat stone.

How curious, he thought. Are you there, Mephuzelah?

Call me Meph. Of course I am. I am eternal.

Avana lifted her gemmed arm. In the middle ruby, the largest and brightest, a small monkey with red fur matching her own sat neatly amongst a cloud of dust. It stared blankly at her.

But what of Pemazu? She asked the monkey with her thoughts.

He is here too. Quiet. Subdued. But here. Consider yourself lucky. Your body should be mine, and this world conquered by now, the monkey said, its mouth slightly open, voice traveling directly into her mind.

Its voice was snappy, sharp with an ethereal howl behind it, unlike Pemazu who was normally just rude. Avana lowered her arm and walked to a nearby puddle. In any other instance, she would have been taken aback by her appearance. She should be taken aback, but she felt nothing. She now looked like a monster, and the very thing she had been charged to destroy. Sheer indifference swallowed her, and for a second, she welcomed it.

How curious. It was a statement, empty and dry and didn’t feel quite right. She wasn’t curious… she was indifferent, but finding a way to express her own indifference towards her predicament was troublesome.

I am a monster. I resemble you, or Pemazu, or both. Why do I feel nothing?

She brushed her long thin fingers through her wispy hair. Strands pulled from her scalp as she did, and she let them go in the breeze where they drifted up and over the crumbling retaining wall. A wayward flame consumed it in the air.

Pemazu may have saved you from yourself, but there is always a price for escaping death. You have paid, both inside and out. Meph’s voice drifted through her head.

I suppose. She struggled to find the words to pry more into the demon’s answers. It was an odd feeling, to want to care, but feel nothing at all. Icy indifference. Absolute, and terrifying. Furthermore, she had to share her consciousness with two demons, but she still felt like an empty vessel, a shadow of who she once was. A shadow of a person.

Heavy footsteps and the jingle of armor from behind pulled her eyes from the puddle. A young soldier, blood leaking from under his helmet, parted by his nose, was poised to strike her with a silver tipped spear. He wore the armor of Stonehaven, his tabard torn, and his pauldrons dented. Avana tilted her head curiously.

Halt, demon! Where be the Queen and her guard?

Demon? Do you mean me? Her voice echoed oddly; a deeper tone resonated from within her chest. Like someone was speaking her exact words from over her shoulder.

Of course! Answer me so I might slay you and be on my way. The soldier, barely of age, held his spear unsteadily, though his eyes were full of courage. He looked like a boy who had been forced to grow up overnight, and Avana could tell he meant what he said, regardless of how foolish the idea was.

Answer me, demon! He commanded again, taking a half-step forward.

Avana pounced in a flash of fur, her wings opening with a crack, spurred into action by reflexes alone. Seconds passed by in slow motion, her palm opened up, wicked claws glinting in the light of a cart of goods on fire, her face a twisted snarl. The soldier muttered something before her claw wrapped over the top of his helmet and she crushed it in her palm.

She held the soldier’s limp body at arm’s length, head tilted still.

Wicked, even for me, Meph chimed in.

I did not mean for this to happen, she replied.

You saw a threat and handled it without forethought. You really are becoming one of us.

Avana wanted to rage inside. To hate herself for what she had done. This soldier, young, was one of her men, the people of her Kingdom, and she had slaughtered him. To make it worse, she felt nothing for what she had done.

As she was about to let the soldier’s body go, she noticed black spidery lines tracing their way from the gems on her arm up and under her armor. She remembered the lines distinctly, as they were similar to the ones Cereal had when he was marked by the Book. Avana let the soldier go, his corpse crumpled in a limp pile of armor near the puddle. With a clawed finger, she traced the lines from the upmost gem around the top of her forearm all the way to her fingertips. They were vine-like, creeping wherever she had veins.

A clock of sorts, Meph said. The fowl did not buy you as much time as you think. Soon, I will inhabit your body and expel Pemazu, or eat him.

She stopped tracing the lines. A sharp pain shot through her heart. Her knees grew weak, and she buckled, clutching her chest. Each breath was accompanied by another burst of pain.

What’s… happening… she managed to get out. Then, there was a vague moment of panic, as she feared her heart might explode. Normally she would have welcomed feeling anything, but now, all she could hope for was the pain to stop.

She willed her eyes to open, pain-wrought tears streaked down her cheek. The vines beneath her skin were moving. She looked on in horror as one of the gems was leaking the blackened essence into her veins. There was another flash of pain, and she clamped her eyes shut again, falling onto her back, the wings pressing awkwardly into her shoulder blades. She rolled onto her side, unable to even speak. Then, as a terrifying thought of everlasting pain entered her mind, there was a brief tickle on her cheek, and a painful pinprick melded with the burning in her arm.

Something stabbed at her skin, dulling the aches in her heart. A few moments later, the pain was near bearable, and Avana could open her eyes. To her absolute surprise, a magpie with too many eyes hopped near her outstretched arm. It was tugging on the little worms that seemed to come from a hole in her skin, next to the gems. The magpie threw back the writhing worm, then dove its beak under her skin again, retrieving yet another worm. Each time, the pain in her head subsided just a little more.

By the time the magpie stopped, she could breathe normally, the tears had stopped, and her curiosity returned. With a final click of its beak, the magpie guzzled the final writhing worm, but a crack in one of the gems remained. The monkey rested its head in its palms, conveying a look of utter disappointment.

Pemazu? Avana asked, her voice no longer echoing.

The magpie opened its mouth revealing two glowing red eyes deep in its gut and said in an ethereal, ghastly voice, None other.

CHAPTER TWO

In what would have been an unprecedented moment, Avana only gazed intently at the demon bird. It hopped in her direction then preened its feathers. She had so many questions but thought it best to wait until they were a distance away from any more soldiers. Her reflexes were so attuned for combat, she feared for anyone who might raise a weapon to her more than enough to warrant such action. To her surprise, she felt something. She felt alone. Like an outcast.

Just like me, Meph said.

I am nothing like you. But perhaps you might tell me how Pemazu came to be? I thought your kind could not manifest on this plane without a deal being made, she thought.

There is much that has changed with the rising of the Old God, and there has never been an instance of an Arbiter fusing with two demons. We are in uncharted waters, Pemazu quipped, settling down on its feet like a goose warming an egg.

Avana stooped, and the bird got up then hopped along her arm. It settled on her right shoulder but not before pecking her ear once painfully. Avana shrugged. Tell me of the marks. What did you do?

The magpie gave a mighty sigh. Meph is right in some regard. We are on borrowed time. I have held the curse at bay, but soon, and I do mean soon, I will not be able to. I will be cast to the Thin Line for eternity, your soul will be shredded, and this reality will be lost.

Well said.

Then what do you suggest?

Maybe talk to him first, the magpie hissed in her ear.

Time slowed again and Avana ducked and whirled, a wing popping open. She caught sight of an older man in leather studded armor wielding a massive recurve bow, an arrow nocked. His face changed to surprise as Avana’s wing shot out and tripped him. She flapped once, lifted off the ground and landed heavily on his chest, her feet burning as runes in his armor ignited. They sizzled, giving off the scent of burnt flesh even as Avana pinned him to the ground. He reached for a dagger at his hip. Avana pinned his arm with a wing, her reflexes like a cat’s.

She leaned in close enough to smell his rancid breath. Hello, demon hunter.

The man turned his haggard blue eyes away. His jaw was locked in a grimace, scraggly beard hiding his lower lips. Avana twisted her foot into his chest even more. He groaned.

Kill me, then. Get on with it. His accent was heavily laden as those who came from the north across the sea.

To her surprise, her reflexes were not out of her control anymore and she found she could lift her foot up. She looked the man over and saw a dark mark on his skin, just above his armor on his neck. Avana used her other wing to slide his head over. He hissed and closed his eyes. The mark was one she recognized from the archives. It was a mark of Kogresh, the land to the east. The land of the slavers who wore skeletal armor and were near invisible without it. Why would this demon hunter bear their mark?

Why do you wear this brand? She asked, her voice returned to normal. An oddity, considering her appearance.

What do you care, demon?

Avana shifted. It would be wise to answer me, else my friend here takes out your eyes.

Pemazu hopped next to the demon hunter’s head, shrugged, then looked up at her.

The demon hunter said into the dirt, I have hunted demons across all the continents and seen many things. I am enemy to no-one other than demons. I bear the mark of someone who has gained the trust of the Korgreshi.

An interesting memory crossed her mind. She recalled a long time ago, when Cereal spoke of a healer who could mend demons. A mystical healer thought to be hidden away in the lands of Kogresh. At first, she had passed it off as the ramblings of a scared boy, now she wondered if he might have been on to something.

You know of killing demons, but what do you know of healing them?

The demon hunter twisted his head to face her. What do you care?

Pemazu jumped onto the demon hunter’s forehead and centered his beak on his eye.

Fine! Call off the bird. Pemazu hopped off proudly and fluttered back to Avana’s shoulder.

The man took a deep breath and said, The Kogreshi talked of such a healer. But it was only legends, talks around the fire. If the healer were real, they would be the ultimate hunter prize. How foul to be a demon, how forsaken to consort with them.

Did they mention a place? Where might we find this healer if he existed? Avana pressed further into his chest, her talons piercing his armor, the magical runes barely phasing her plated scales.

No. Just that it was in the lands to the east.

Avana removed her foot. She had all she needed from him. Pemazu, you may eat him.

The bird hopped off her shoulder and the demon hunter scooted back until he collided with an overturned statue. Pemazu opened his beak, tentacles crawling outward, slithering, sliding, and hunting for the man’s feet.

No! No! I know someone who might know of the healer’s location!

Pemazu? Avana called.

The tentacles retreated into the bird’s mouth, and it stood by. The demon hunter’s chest was heaving up and down, his eyes wide, refusing to look away from the magpie which stalked side to side, menacingly.

Talk, she said.

I said I do not know where the healer is, but that does not mean I do not know how to find him if the legends are true, The man stammered. It is a thing of legends, the ultimate catch, the prime kill. To kill the only thing capable of healing demons would put you down in our clan for all of history. I met a demon hunter who grew obsessed with the idea. He was getting closer to finding its location.

His name?

Griss, the demon hunter said.

Griss is dead, Avana snarled.

Pemazu opened his beak.

Griss had a son! The terrified man spat out, face wedged against the stone as the small bird took a step forward, ghostly tentacles writhing in the air. Griss had a son, and he told him where to go.

I did not know Griss had a son, Avana said.

He had a son, hidden, because Griss had many enemies. Many evil things he had slain and their ilk that wished him dead. I can take you to his son.

Avana tilted a wing towards him. You’d turn him over to me? How cowardly are you?

The man shook his head. I would make you promise. Promise not to hurt him. Get the information you need and leave him be.

A promise from a demon? How odd.

The man whimpered. You are not like them, I can tell. You think things through. You consider your choices. That means you can consider leaving him be after he has helped you.

Avana picked her teeth with a claw. A fine assessment. Fool hearted, but fair. I can see reason and I see no reason to hurt the boy if he helps me. And for what it matters, my name is Queen Avana Ostra.

She tucked her wings away and propped a hand on her hip, then rolled her eyes as the demon hunter had not moved. She slid her sword from its scabbard, revealing a wire-wrapped pommel with ornate inset gems and the mark of the kingdom, a large D with a flourish around it.

The demon hunter gasped. Queen Avana? But how? What happened to you?

More than I care to explain right now. My appearance is enough to warrant more interactions with those such as yourself or worse. I would suggest we leave here, promptly, and regroup. Avana’s eyes drifted up and over the remains of the retaining wall. In the distance, where there was once a great green pasture in front of the castle was now a scarred field disrupted by two massive lines of upturned rock and soil where the Hish pulled on the chains buried there.

Black dots moved along the earth as soldiers and civilians alike appeared to vacate the city and meet on the lawn together. A standard waved from the front of a small detachment of soldiers.

They will gather who survived and seek haven in Muramesh, she said to the wind, once again wishing she could feel pity or remorse, but only a blank spot remained.

Avana shook her head to clear it. Where to? What supplies might we need?

The demon hunter hurried to his feet and stepped a wide berth around the bird who eyed him intently. He came to her side.

We will need more. More of my clan. It is a long journey across the sea, and I cannot sail, he said, looking into the distance with her, south towards the Fringe, then the Ruins of Third City. There were many people throughout the land, clans who did not associate with the Kingdom of Duska; the demon hunters were one such clan.

Where are they and what will they do for us? She asked.

The demon hunter ran his fingers through his beard. "They will need to help man the boat we are going to steal. We aim for Riphollow. I am Dolamed. Follow me, your Majesty.

CHAPTER THREE

The demon hunter Dolamed turned out to be quick on his feet and more than the sum of his rough exterior. From the shadow of the terrace, he weaved, ducked, and slithered through the corridors made up of the buildings surrounding the keep. He mostly kept to himself, but when he did speak, it seemed meaningful.

Conducting a preliminary check around a blind curve, he pressed himself against the white stone wall, breathing from his chest with his eyes closed. Avana did the same but found it difficult as the wings protruding from her shoulder blades stuck out and nearly dragged on the ground. Together, they hid in the shadows along the building as a small squad of guards ran by, their red and gold tabards glinting in the sun, their armor heavy on their shoulders. They passed out of sight, cutting right onto the main road toward the field where the other troops were amassing. They were abandoning the city.

Avana could feel Dolamed’s eyes digging into her.

What happened? He asked.

She didn’t need to ask for clarity; she knew what he was talking about. Her appearance was enough for him to wager something had happened with the Hish and that she was involved. Plenty had been whispered about her; some truths, and many falsities.

Daemond of Second City, a traitor, raised a creature, the gatekeeper for the last Old God. Princess Beggen Ostra and I fought it and defeated it, but not before it took her life, destroyed the city, and forced me to use magic with dire consequences.

She opened her eyes to find a blank look on his face. Is that all?

Her eyes narrowed on him. I now resemble a demon, I cannot feel any emotion, and there is a spell in my blood that will inevitably kill me and release the bastard son of the Old God who will enslave the world.

I heard that, Meph quipped. The gems warmed.

Overhead, the magpie screeched, circling above, then tucked in its wings in the shadow of the sun, diving head-first for Dolamed. He ducked and swatted at the bird which landed near Avana’s feet. It dribbled wispy essence from its mouth.

This is Pemazu, another ancient deity and apparently my only friend, Avana said as the bird painfully climbed her pant leg and onto her shoulder. Its skin was cold against her cheek and there was a hum reverberating in its chest.

If I am your only friend, we are indeed in trouble, the bird said. Its voice was a blend of many pitches, some high, some low.

Dolamed cocked his head. If that is all we have to deal with, I would say our path is clear. We cannot let the creature inside you be released.

Avana straightened her sword belt and the straps of steel gauntlets and greaves. You are a demon hunter, isn’t it your instinct to kill me? Is it not in your ethos? She questioned.

He shook his head. Demons are evil. We hunt evil. We are not partial to killing all demons. I suppose if we met a friendly demon we’d have a different conversation, but most of the time, someone dies or worse when encountering one. You are not a demon, though you look like one. And this bird appears to be contained to its form. Therefore, I have nothing to hunt. In the end, I must target the greatest evil and hunt that until nothing remains.

Hardly contained, Pemazu chimed in, releasing a torrent of writhing black tentacles from its mouth then swallowing them again.

Enough of that, Avana swatted at the magpie. You say we need a boat, and I am through with this history lesson. We need to get out of the city, and the closest dock is east of here. We can hire a small transport vessel to take us south to your people at Riphollow.

Dolamed nodded. The largest ships that can travel beyond the Valor are docked at Riphollow. He looked around the corner. Wait here, he said, rolling around the edge and reappearing a minute later holding a large green cloak. He held it out.

It’s not ideal, but we can’t have you walking around looking like that, his eyes drifted toward the wings on her back which were flexing themselves. She didn’t have much control over them, but they seemed to know what she needed. They promptly snapped back in place.

Avana took the cloak and draped it over her shoulders then lifted the hood. Her wings pressed hard against her back as tight as they could. If only her feet were so clever as to take her exactly where she needed to be. She sighed, pulled the hood in closer, casting her pale face in shadows.

Dolamed looked her over once and turned the corner. She followed closely behind him, not wanting to appear as if they were traveling together. The magpie resumed its overhead circling and the monkey in her gemmed arm remained quiet. It almost seemed patient. They traveled the cobblestone road, turning east, away from the city. There were plenty of locations by which to escape the once-protective walls. The battle had left many gaping holes in the battlements, and it didn’t take them long to find one that could be easily scaled.

Dolamed climbed atop a set of massive square stones then reached for Avana. She extended a clawed hand, thought twice about it, then scrambled up the face of the stone like a bug. Her appearance had functionality it seemed. Once at the top, they were able to survey the extent of the damage.

Fires raged across most of the city as torches were left unattended and wayward flame-bathed arrows caught on thatched roofs. Then there was the utter destruction of the earth itself. Two deep ruts ran through the field south of the keep, carving paths through houses and up to the castle grounds. It looked like