Howler and Prime

By J.M. Fickling

Three of humanity's most notorious felons are banished to a strange new world, where they are captured and tested by the gods. An endless horde of mutant wolves, a supersonic race to the death, and an impossible riddle will push the worst of mankind to their limits in the ultimate quest for immortality. In this world of violence and power, however, not everything is as it seems, and soon, the gods themselves will be tested by a power far greater than their own.

A tale of hope, courage, and salvation, Howler and Prime is a white-knuckled plunge into the soul of man, leading to the only being who can save it from itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889825555

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Sullus

Conversation on the Monolith

Conversation on the Pedestal

Audience with Quo

Sons of Thunder

Education for the Damned

See Me No More

Nightmare of the Courtyard

Men of Renown

The Ascent

The Riddle

The War

The Race

Solitude of the Shade

Alex the Cunning

The Secrets of Khul

The Game

Robert McClain

The Broken Man

History of Sorrow

Robert of Gedda

Nightmare of the Dome

Caleb Watkins

No Sane Society

Sullus and Ru

Return to Ferros

The Way of Khul

Total Corruption

Xenica Ferrosa

The Shadow and the Serpent

The State of Gedda

The Nameless

Robert the True

The Wilderness

The Shadow and the Servant

Echoes of Vexyl

The Damned of Ghobul

The Heart of Ru

The Ferox Foundry

The Feral Man

Goffa

The Friend

The Words

The Weapon

Goffa and Khul

The Siege of Ferros

The Bad Man

The Northern Front

Promises of Violence

Jungle Buster

Brecca

The Man Who Saw the Shade

The Queen Who Saw Not

The Price of Haxxi

The Missing Man

The Lesson of Nimh

The City of Quo

The Lion of Gedda

Rule of Seven

The Black Sky

Fear the Shade

The Black Cube

The Empire of Three

The Codex

Queen of the Shade

The Year Before the Storm

Mouth of the Pit

Death Fled

A Simple Thing

The Chosen of Khul

Come and See

Word of Khul

The Faithful Three

Emissaries of the Shade

Philosophy of Gedda

No Greater Honor

The Hesitation

The Deeper in

Over the Wall

Ask of Me

The Longing of a Thing

The Time Between

Return to the Courtyard

Thou

The Return of Alex Brinkley

The Serpent, the Lion, and the Beast

Long Live Robert McClain

Into the Black Tide

May the Circle Be Unbroken

The Ridgeline

Total Ferox

Endless Wolf

The Second Tribulation

We Stand

Goodbye, Old Friend

Peace in This World

The Gathering Storm

We Are Few

The Ghobul Massacre

Brecca's Revenge

The Great Deception

Legion

The Great Plague

I Am with You Always

Apocalypse

Howler

Juggernaut

The Forgotten

The Last of the Geddans

Prime

The Power of Khul

Vexyl the Mad

Revelation

The Will of Man

Not of Works

The Choice

Study the Blade

Howler and Prime

About the Author

cover.jpg

Howler and Prime

J.M. Fickling

Copyright © 2023 J.M. Fickling

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88982-554-8 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-555-5 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my dad. I miss you; here's your home run.

Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word,

and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life,

and shall not come into condemnation;

but is passed from death unto life.

—Jesus Christ (John 5:24)

Sullus

I am invisible even unto the gods, save for my shadow.

I am the dreaded shade, the frightful unknown. I am faster than the great racing machines of men and more nimble than the blink of a desperate eye. I have crushed entire cities and ground nations into blood and dust; I can rip a mountain from the horizon with my mind and ascend to the skies by my will. I have incinerated the forests and vaporized the seas.

I am Sullus and I still live.

Three others ruled alongside me: Quo, Ru, and Khul.

Oh, how I often pitied the realm of mortal men, subject to our cold indifference. Love and hate are one to another, but callousness is a horror unto itself.

Quo was thoroughly bitter and forever stoic, robbed of a glorious death on a mortal battlefield eons ago. He was chosen, you see, unlike the rest of us, sealed by an incredible device around his throat, a collar of alien appearance. It chose Quo in the heat of a great battle for achieving the impossible against a regenerate horde of wolves, and it made the warrior into a god. Or perhaps the collar was the god and Quo was its slave? There was a time I used to wonder about the immortal device; now I have learned to respect it. It was impossible to strike against Quo because the collar shielded every inch of his menacing frame with its abominable technology. It covered him with energy and shielded him from all harm; thus he was mighty among the gods. The device had a mind of its own, but so did Quo, and the two existed in mutual disdain. I am sure the collar would have left him had it discovered a finer warrior, but there was none to be found until Prime emerged in glory, and by then, it was too late.

Ru was violent and perceptive, fiercely beautiful with long obsidian hair, and burning, vengeful eyes. Only she and Khul knew her true story, how she achieved the state of a goddess; the war god and I were content to leave it a mystery. Ru was particularly sadistic with her considerable power, and the mortals were prone to suffering her unquenchable spite. She fashioned long, sweeping cloaks made from the skins of dead men and would glide above their dwellings, laughing hysterically for scorn, wreathed in flame and contempt. Fear preceded Ru, and wrath poured down from her as rain. Woe to those who endured her governance for they were not envied. She was the most vicious being in all of existence until Howler, the curse of the flesh, was deemed worthy of immortality.

Khul was eldest and secretive. He knew the great mysteries of the realm; his secrets shattered even the minds of the gods. He had won our right to exist long, long ago in a horrific struggle with the mad god known as Vexyl. Vexyl was insane as a man, you see, and when he became immortal, the voices in his head drove him to obliterate entire continents. Khul alone had stood against the juggernaut, and they fought bitterly for over a thousand years. The world burned in those days, and the skies were clothed in ash and molten stone.

Among Khul's mighty secrets is how he finally defeated Vexyl, and another is what became of the mad god afterward. He still wore the many scars from the struggle, crisscrossed over his fearsome visage like thread over a loom. There is friendship between myself and Khul as I am a shade and he is a keeper of secrets. Khul was the most cunning being in existence until the release of Legion, the abomination from the pit.

What follows is my account of what happened to this realm, the fateful arc that brought eons of order and discipline crashing down in wrath, and of three mortal men who stood mighty among the gods. Forgive us for our failures, for they were many; forgive me for murdering the world, for I did it to save myself.

Conversation on the Monolith

The monolith hung high over the realm, an enormous cube of black volcanic glass, a sight to behold as it was perfect in all its ways. Khul stood atop it, as he had fashioned it, and bid me to speak with him up high. He paced its perfect surface, mingling with the clouds in circles around my shadow.

Sullus. Tell me a secret, elder one, a small one.

Khul. Show me your face, shadow; only a small part.

Neither request was possible, of course, at least not then; this was a customary banter, a kind of cosmic joke. Shadows have no faces, and secrets don't exist if shared. Of course, I could easily paint my own face and reveal it, and Khul would tell me the secret of a matter, but that would be foolish. Khul had many wares to offer; I had but one. As long as my face was hidden from him, there was a secret he did not possess for even I had never seen my own face.

Sullus. Why have you bid me here?

Khul. There is a disturbance in the world, in the far east, outside of Ghobul.

Sullus. Ru will not take such a thing lightly, especially not in Ghobul. It is her favored city, and her sense of order is strict.

Khul. I've already spoken with her about it…

Sullus. Ah, I see. I should have asked the nature of the matter first. I imagine it's captured her fascination rather than her ferocity.

Khul grinned slightly, the scars on his face accenting the amusement. He stopped pacing and turned in my direction.

Khul. Right you are, shadow. You will be interested as well. The mortals outside of Ghobul have discovered an anomaly of thunder but only in a space twenty paces wide. Two were struck dead when they tried to approach it. The others built a wall around it, yet its power grows between the walls.

Sullus. Sounds like mortal technology gone astray, sounds like terrified men caught out hiding a crime but without the means to conceal it.

Khul. The mortals came to me, Sullus, terrified men confronted with the unknown, likewise terrified of approaching Ru.

Sullus. Bold of them, presumptuous and rude as well, to assume that you were unaware.

Khul. Hardly, they were groveling for me to lift it from their land. The only thing they assumed was that we were punishing them for some ambiguous offense. No, Sullus, this is truly fascinating.

He resumed his pacing across the glass, staring off into the horizon.

Khul. At night, you can see them—faintly.

Sullus. Them?

Khul. Figures, beings—there are three of them inside the disturbance. They are motionless, frozen in place and without substance like the false images the mortals create on their screens.

Sullus. You have my attention. What is their stature? Are they large as we are or mere men?

Khul. They are the size of mortals yet of different builds. As I said, they can be seen faintly. In time they will become less apparition and more tangible, and that will be soon.

Sullus. You know what this is, don't you?

Khul, ceasing his pacing and grinning. Show me your face, just a tiny part.

Conversation on the Pedestal

I, Sullus, decided to inspect the disturbance in person; Khul was a talented peddler of games, always testing my resolve. That aside, once you have lived as long as I have, novelty is the coin of the realm.

The disturbance was closer to Ghobul than Khul had implied, only a mile from the Pedestal of Ru. He had also understated the wall that had been built around it as it was three paces thick and well fortified (by the standards of mere men). Inside that square box was the mystery. Dark thunder clouds had gathered high above it, rumbling continuously; indeed, it seemed to bait them closer. There was a slight tingle to the air.

The impromptu courtyard formed by the walls looked unremarkable, yet it became obvious that a great force inhabited it. There was an omnipresent hum that increased in volume as I neared it, and tiny blue arcs of sharp light snapped along the walls. I could see no source for the current flowing through the space, yet it was there all the same. Interesting, indeed. I saw no specters of men, although the night had yet to arrive.

I traveled to the Pedestal of Ru, a truly massive work of stone, and saw her sitting on her throne at its peak. She was magnificently beautiful even considering the seat of skulls she reclined upon, a fitting throne for her attributes.

Ru. The clouds gather here, Sullus, as do gods. It is difficult to see a shadow beneath a storm.

Sullus. I am often thankful for the clouds, though they rob me of what little identity I possess. Fortunately, you retain your own in the shade.

Ru smirked, staring idly toward the disturbance so close to her capitol. Her voice was silken and captivating and her gaze as cold and remorseless as the northern seas.

Ru. I do enjoy your wit, Sullus. Spoke with Khul, did you? The gall of that one to think of informing me of what lay near my footstool. I imagine he is quite pleased with himself.

Sullus. I have never known him to be otherwise.

Ru. Ha! This is the truth, though thankfully he stops short of hubris—hubris still belongs to me. But pay that no mind. Do you see how the stormfront centers around my little discovery, how the clouds gather to it?

Sullus. I am more interested in what the darkness of night will reveal. Khul spoke of false images of men, ghosts within the walls.

Ru. Illusions of mortal men are intriguing, yes, but this disturbance is more than what Khul discloses. Besides, these apparitions chose poorly to trespass against a queen who sits upon the bones of men. Something is opening a doorway into our realm, and that fascinates me greatly. I wonder what lies on the other side and whether it bleeds or not.

Sullus. Everything bleeds at least for you.

Ru. As it should, as it will, as it must. Let us not pretend you are any less murderous than myself, Sullus.

Sullus. I wouldn't dare. However, hubris does not belong to me.

Ru smiled faintly and spoke no more as she pondered the possibilities of the future.

Audience with Quo

I left Ru to her impressive schemes and returned to the anomaly as the night was approaching and my curiosity was afoot. Could it be as Ru suspected? Was this a portal to another realm? How glorious that would be, to expand my power and reach upon two worlds instead of just the one; I, Sullus, would reign mightier than before. Mortal men may fear the violence of Ru and rightfully so, but their true horror lies in the unseen and the unknown.

Quo had arrived from the north, a towering and impeccable being with a face that appeared to be cut from hard stone, always practical and ever seething with smoldering rage. I did pity him somewhat for his only pleasure was war, and as the god of war, there were none fit to fight him. For centuries, he governed the quarrels of men (who are easily deceived into murder) and lived his battles vicariously through their conflicts. He hovered over the walled courtyard, staring down at it with his perpetual scowl, his collar gleaming with the last rays of a setting sun.

Sullus. Hail, Quo, what do you see?

Quo's head snapped toward the sound of my voice, the collar coming to life around his unbreakable neck.

Quo. I see everything but you, Sullus, though I am not surprised to find you here. What do I see? I see an abomination, something out of order and bereft of discipline. This strange thing, it simply will not do.

Sullus. Ru believes it to be a doorway, a path to unclaimed realms.

Quo. I see a stain upon the world, Ru sees a pathway to another, but what about you, Sullus? What does the shade see that others do not?

Sullus. I see a rip in the fabric of things as water funneling through a sinkhole in the floor of the sea. But the spectral ones are what I truly wish to examine, as Khul has. He claims they are as ordinary men, yet no ordinary man appears by extraordinary means.

Quo nodded and returned his icy gaze back to the courtyard. The light had faded, and the area produced a faint blue glow, pent-up electricity revealing its presence to the eyes. It was then that I saw them as Khul had described: three illuminated beings, suspended in space within the center of the anomaly, motionless and eerie to behold. Ghosts of men, riddles within a riddle.

Khul. They are more visible than before.

I had not noticed Khul's arrival, and neither had Quo; this was not uncommon with the keeper of secrets for even his coming and going were as mysteries to the cosmos.

Quo. Slippery as always with you, Khul. The shade here is unknown by his nature as are you.

Khul. I think you would be surprised by what is known and what is not, war master.

And then without warning, it happened.

Sons of Thunder

The world erupted in violent light and a roar of rolling thunder. Lightning surged from the skies, from the courtyard, from the walls; all was encompassed by electricity and light. Ru appeared alongside us almost as fast as the lightning, curious to witness this explosive development, this novel outburst of natural insanity.

The lightning bolts joined into a single concentrated column, unyielding and fierce, a pillar of purple-tinged light brighter than the sun. The roar it produced was as nothing before, a sound like that of a world groaning in dread of things to come. And then just as suddenly as it began, there was darkness and silence, the last gasp of thunder echoing off into the horizon. The stench of burnt ozone filled the air, and a thick smoke curled out of the courtyard as we descended.

The smoke rolled thick and foul, and the ground smoldered in torment. Then as the vapor cleared, we saw them. These were no longer spectral images but mortal men; the light from our eyes illuminated their bodies lying motionless on the charred soil. I raised my finger and lifted them up lest they should roast against the blackened dirt. They hung suspended as before, unconscious and oblivious to the absurdity of their situation. We gathered around the three, consumed by an overwhelming curiosity, all of us save for Khul, who probably already knew that which we did not. It was apparent that even while unconscious, the three were in considerable pain as their hands were clenched into fists and the veins bulged on their foreheads.

They were clad in strange clothing; it fit loosely on them to their wrists and ankles, and the entirety of it was a single garment. The fabric was likewise of one color, a sickening red hue that offended my sight. Also, strange black symbols were stenciled over the chest and between the shoulder blades. Alien, not of our realm.

Ru. What is this, Khul?

There came no answer, and we looked to see that Khul was gone. This was not unusual; Khul did it often, and I imagine he enjoyed it thoroughly.

Quo. Sullus, you are clever as the old one is. What is the truth of this?

Sullus. The only truth I see is in their clothing.

Ru. Not of our own stock, not of our world.

Quo. Then that is something. Foreign so they will not understand our language. I want to hear the meaning of this from them, where they hail from.

Ru. They are trespassers on my doorstep.

Quo. They are trespassers on our world as a whole.

Sullus. Nothing must happen now regardless of their offense. We can isolate them here between these four walls, leaving them in the custody of Ru until they have learned our tongue. Then we will discover their secrets for they are many. If this is truly a doorway and these brazen fools came through it, I want to know what's on the other side.

I studied the men once more, their shape and build—the one tall and slender, the one short and muscular, and the one of average stature. The average one, I noticed, clutched a small black object in his hand. I brought it to myself and examined it in the palm of my hand; a leather binding held razor thin leaves of parchment (fine parchment) edged with a metallic shine. The leaves were stenciled with strange symbols much like the men's clothing was. I offered it to Quo.

Sullus. This may be of use as you wish them to know our language. Perhaps your mortal subjects can decipher theirs.

Quo. A worthy pursuit.

Ru. We should kill them all immediately. We slaughter our own for far lesser infractions than this. What does it say of us to show preference among unproven mortals? It speaks of compassion and weakness where there is none.

Sullus. No, every mortal within the horizon just witnessed their arrival. They are Sons of Thunder, or at least that is how they will be spoken of among men. Better to make the most of them—use them to distract the realm and increase our own power. We can test them with the impossible, three Great Trials to be witnessed by the world of mortals. We will divide the world as men fawn for a hero and loathe his companions.

Quo. You would be better off killing them. We three and Khul are the only to have achieved the impossible after all these eons of strife. Still, legends can be made.

Ru. I am intrigued by testing them for it is cruelty superior to mere death, and likewise, it reminds the filth of our cities that they cannot achieve our state of glory. Let them be weighed in the balance, each to his own trial, each to his death.

Sullus. Agreed.

Quo. Agreed.

Education for the Damned

It was a horrifying scene when the tall one finally awoke. Three weeks had passed since the sons of thunder had arrived, and I was excited to witness this latest development. He sat upright, suddenly and violently, his eyes wide with horror and inhaling with a gritty rasp, as does a man who would barely escape drowning in the sea. Once his lungs were full, he screamed with a dry, choking wail. He thrashed involuntarily against his restraints, convulsing in shock and trauma. The mortal guards and healers descended upon him as birds to a carcass.

I had often meditated on what this existence is like for mortal beings, to greet every day knowing that it eventually ends in tragedy and loss. What pitiful suffering, and worse yet, the resolve to move forward regardless of its folly. Having to spend such precious time on trinkets like food and sleep and toil, it is a curse. However, I could never shake the creeping suspicion that their lives had more quality than my own. How much more potent is love between the mortals, who know the end is inevitable? How much sweeter the water from the stream knowing it will one day fade away? I have caused them all great pain, often by my own hands and savagery, yet they carried on with purpose and resolve.

It was almost admirable.

The awakened man before me was damned, and his companions were also damned; a Great Trial is no laughing matter. The goal for those bound under trial was to beat the impossible, simply that. Only five have succeeded, and three of those would test the men, each trial unique and unyieldingly brutal. But oh, the glory that mere mortal man can achieve in such moments! There are those who came close, and their deaths are sealed in stone within the cities of men, miles upon miles of heroism and awe preserved for millennia. These men were respected by the immortals for only the immortals knew the quality of their final moments. Others who perished early or cowered in fear were thrown into the incinerators with contempt, their names erased from memory.

But which would this tall, slender man be?

A coward?

A hero?

A god?

I was curious to know the answer and also curious to know the man himself. The mortal trainers had arrived, and his writhing body was held down long enough to fasten the visor to his face. It was a piece of mortal technology, an admittedly impressive one that used images and pulses of light to educate an individual forcefully. It could simulate sound within the skull, rendering an inescapable voice to accompany the optics. A miserable experience, of course, but a necessary one. The devices had been commissioned by Khul for educating feral men retrieved from the wilderness, and the process took roughly one year.

In this case, special attention would be given to advanced language skills and vocabulary. I resolved to return to the mountains of the west and plan a trial in case I was one of the three assigned to the sons of thunder. Khul, however,